siLenT PoeTrY

"SILENT POETRY"

First Solo Painting Exhibition
of

PRECY ANN CUA

"Awaiting" Oil on Canvass (65cm x 35 cm)

THE MIND AND SPIRIT OF

P R E C Y A N N

The saying that the youth is wasted in the young in not true of Precy Ann Cua. Watching her paint, you know she has not wasted the vigour of her youth. She becomes one with the brush that she weilds.

In "Silent Poetry," her first solo painting exhibition, Precy Ann celebrates her youthful experiences, experimentations in beautiful and striking colours. Her talent is quick to discern from the ease and confidence with which she combines colours and makes use of unconventional materials to serve her art.

"Looking at Me" Oil on Canvass (25cm x 30cm)

"Fake a Smile" Oil on Canvas (110cm x 140cm)

Precy Ann’s paintings show an adventurousness in expressing herself through eclectic means. Her use of symbols, images and pictures, whether or not to make a point, make powerful statements. Her kind of art demands character and understanding of the essence forms.

"Deeply Within" (Series of 3) Oil on Canvas (40cm x 60cm)

"Three Sides of Blue" (Series of 3) Mixed Media (40cm x 60cm)

"Green Window" Oil on Canvass (60cm x 80cm)

"Blue Tears" Oil on Canvass (60cm x 80cm)

"Silent Poetry" is a summation of her first attempts at expressing herself, following her discovery of what it means to be liberated through the medium of painting. And it was last 2005 when she began art studies under the accomplished Filipino painter, Fernendo Modesto.

"Kikay" Mixed Media (30cm x 30cm)

"View from the 17th Floor" Mixed Media (50cm x 40cm)

"Rain Outside My Window" Oil on Canvas (50cm x 60cm)

"Frangipanies" Oil on Canvas (50cm x 60cm)

Precy Ann compels you think and smile, for her works, which bear intense and expressive quality, are happy paintings, even her rendition of tears. They connect to the mind and the spirit. They are indeed poetry without words.

Precy and I in Boracay

LonG TimE

It has been a long time when I last made a post in my blog. I have been extremely busy this semester. And that I am busy working on with my Junior Solo Voice Recital. Preparing fifteen (15) songs is a tough job. I missed you guys! Thanks for always checking me out. I may not able to respond to you most of the time but be assured that yu are being thought of. I will be back soon. That is joke. That's an assurance. Just let me finish with this thing. I have until February 26 before deadline.

I missed you all!

I will be back soon.

I promise.

ocTobEr 29

na ako.

Tumatanda na.

Dagdag na naman sa edad.

Di na ako bata.

Hindi ko na mababago yaon.

Ganun pa man, MALIGAYANG BATI na lang sa'kin.

sYmPTomS

SIGNS OF DEPRESSION

Persistent sadness, anxiety or empty mood.

I know happiness lies within my soul but I can't deny the fact that i feel anxious most of the time. Sad in the sense that things aren't going exactly the way I want them to be.


Sleeping too much or too little.

My class schedule is from 8am down to 9pm. No joke. I don't go home for lunch so I don't have enough time to have siesta. I sleep at around 1am and unfortunately, I always find myself waking up at 3am having a hard time to go back to bed again. It irritates me. I feel hopeless.


Waking up in the middle of the night unable to sleep again.

Like what I said earlier, I wake up around 3am. I have a hard time going back to sleep. If ever I feel the need to go back to sleep again, it would be useless - it's 7am (and my class starts at 8am).


Marked reduction of weight or weight-gain like eating too little or too much.

My weight hasn't been stable for 2 years now. I lost 40lbs. last summer though and it was really abrupt. Now I am starting to gain everything back again. When I'm sad, I tend to eat a lot. Often times, I eat nothing. (Or is it the effects of quiting smoke?!)


Loss of pleasure and interest in activities once enjoyed.

I love multi-tasking so much. But things have changed since what happened to me since June. I don't know. I love playing the piano but my interest slowly faded away. I have been trying to tell myself that it's just one bad day. But as the day comes to a close, things didn't fall into place. My piano recital even sucked. God!


Restlessness and irritability.

I am one patient person. That was years ago. Or am I having early andropoause?


Persistent physical symptoms that do not respond to treatment.

Coughing is a sudden and often repetitively occurring defence reflex which helps to clear the large breathing passages from excess secretions, irritants, foreign particles and microbes. Or say, sneezing. Rhinorrhea (runny nose)? It last for a month. Been drinking all sorts of medicines but to no avail. *sigh*


Difficulty concentrating, remembering or making decisions.

I can concentrate. I lot. But I have one serious problem, I begin to forget things easily. I even forgot that I'm having my birthday this October not until my bestfriend told me. Pathetic! Decision-making? I can't even decide what and where to eat. Inutil!


Fatigue and loss of energy like no energy to get out of bed.

See?! I can't even answer this stupid thing.


Feeling guilty, hopeless or worthless.

Remember number two?! I always find myself waking up at 3am having a hard time to go back to bed again. It irritates me. I feel hopeless. What do you think?


Thoughts of suicide or death.

Death has always been my fascination. I am a suicidal kid at 8. Nah. I don't want to talk about it nor think about it.

siRa

*sigh*

Kung kelan ko pang naisipang bumalik sa blogosperyo, dun din nag-inarte ang p*ste kong laptop. Nawala lahat ng files ko. Pero eto ang mas masaklap, hindi na umandar.

*sigh*

Guys, i'll be back soon.

Sana naman maayos na 'tong p*ste kong friend.

Internet cafe na lang muna ako.

mAnGiLan - iLaN

Mangilan-ilan lang ang mga taong totoo sa mapangahas at malamig nating mundo. Alam nila kung papaano kiliti-in ang puso ng iba. Ang kaligayahan nila’y walang-halong pagbabalat-kayo, ang kanilang mga ngiti’y totoo at ang kanilang pag-kalinga’y hindi naghahanap ng ano mang kapalit. Makikita mo sa bawat kilos nila.

Mangilan-ilan lang ang mga taong nakakaguhit ng isang malaking ngiti sa aking mga labi. Mga taong tinutuyo ang bawat luhang dumadaloy sa ating mga mata. Ang puso nila’y bukas para kanino man – laging may nakalaang puwang sa bawat nilalang.

Sa unang tining, animo’y ordinaryong tao lang din sila. Titigan mo’t kilalanin at ang mga mata nila’y isinisiwalat ang tunay nilang anyo – na sila’y mga nilalang na hindi nagkukunwari’t bukas sa bawat pagbabago ng buhay. Kaibigan.

Ang pagkakaibiga’y ating kalinga – parang kumot na binabalot mo sa iyong katawan kung ika’y giniginaw; parang unan na hinihigaan mo kung ika’y pagod at inaantok; parang mga kamay na hinahawakan ka kapag ika’y nalulungko’t nangangamba; parang panyo, pinupunasan ang bawat luha mo.

Paminsan-minsan, dito natin hinugot ang ating lakas – parang init ng haring-araw sa tuwing ika’y nababasa sa ulan; parang musika na pinapawi ang iyong kalungkutan, pinapakalma ang magulo mong isipan; parang kaning binubusog ang kumakalam mong sikmura; parang balikat na iyong nasasandala’t na-iiyakan sa tuwing ika’y sinusubok ng panahon.

O hindi kaya’y bunga ng pagmamahal – parang isang inang hindi nagsasawa sa pag-aruga sa’yo; parang isang ama, haligi ng tahanan; parang ate na itinatago ang bawat sikreto’t kabulastugan mo; parang kuya na palaging handing umakay sa’yo’t palaging nandyan para sa’yo; parang si bunso na minamahal ka kung ano at sino ka pa.

Ang lahat ng ito’y nagpapaalala sa atin na may mga taong palaging nasa ating likuran – handang tumulong at magmamahal sa’yo. Sila ang mga taong nagbibigay sa’tin ng pag-asa, nagbibigay lakas at tiwala sa ating mga sarili, mga taong naniniwala sa ating mga kakayahan, mga taong hinding-hindi sumuko sa’yo. Mga taong nandyan sa bawat ngiti at unos ng iyong buhay.

Pamilya.

Kaibigan.

Tayo.

Ikaw.

Ako.

dEaR soLdiER

I have been too troubled the past weeks. Nothing comes into my head. My depression ate all the literary thoughts I have been having. I tried fighting back but everything was in vain. It was painful, devastating.

It started when my grandfather died. Then everything came rushing in - like a domino. Twas unstoppable. I didn't see it coming. It has almost been a month now. I am trying to regain strength - emotionally.

It was only this past day when I read something so sweet, so assuring.



"Dear soldier, I see that you're tired. I tell you, drop your sword and put down your shield."

Yes, I was tired. Too tired of fighting another battle in my life.

"Why worry about the fight?"

I wanted to save myself. I needed to be strong. I should. I must. So I thought.

"After all, it's not your battle. It's mine"

Yours? Then why am I in all these bullcrap then?

"All you have to do is to be in the battle field."

And then what? Get myself killed? Lose everything again? Pathetic!

"Then, against the thousand who tried to destroy you, there I will stand and rescue you."

It did not happen only once. If my mind would serve me right, yes I was there. They tried to destroy me. They won. My failure prevailed. Where were you?

"Winning this war requires neither me nor you but rather ME AND YOU."

All hope is gone. I am weak - too weak to fight, to weak to lose, to weak to win.

"Just do your best."

I always do. But it never seemed to fall into place.

"I'll take care of the rest."

Yes, yes I'll rest.


"Your commander, Jesus"



It won't be easy - to let things be. To let it go. To silently face each day hoping and believing that everything will be okay. I know it won't. I know it'll never be. Things aren't the same anymore. Not anymore. It'll never be. Never.

I am just a soldier.

His soldier.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

TuLaY

Gulong-gulo ang isip ko sa mga nakaraang araw. Sunod-sunod yata ang mga dagok sa aking buhay. Nagsimula ito noong nawala ang aking pinakamamahal na lolo.

Ang kanyang biglaang pagkawala ay isa sa mga pangyayaring hinding-hindi ko makakalimutan sa buong buhay ko. Isa kasi siya sa mga taong humubog sa akin. Sa kanya ako humuhugot ng lakas sa mga panahong magulo ang aking buhay. Siya ang isa sa mga taong naniniwala na kayang-kaya kong lagpasan ang mag unos sa aking buhay.

Ika-21 ng Agosto, recital ko noon. Hindi naging maganda ang gising ko. Parang may mali. Parang may hindi tama. Ni hindi ko nga naitugtog ng maayos ang piano ko sa sobrang alala. Kinabahan ako. Yung kabang hindi mo mawari kung para saan. Malakas ang kabog ng aking dibdib.

Hindi ko natugtog ng tama ang piano ko noong umagang iyon. Mag-tatatlong minuto na ang nakalipas pero ganoon pa din ang aking naramdaman. Halong pangamba at takot. Hindi ko maintindihan. Kaya naisipan ko na lang na kunan ng video ang iba pang mga recitalists sa pag-aakalang mawawala din iyon.

"May tag nay mamatay, aron mu-okey na ang tanan sa COPA (Sana nama'y merong mamatay para maging okey na ang lahat sa COPA)," pabiro kong sinabi sa aking kaibigan.

"Bitaw sa?! (Oo nga ano?!)," sagot ng aking kaibigan.

"Lage. Kay ngano mang kinahanglan pa nga nay mamatay aron mawala ning kaplastikan diri na (Oo nga. Ba't pa naman kasing kelangan me mamatay para mawala ang kaplastikan dito)."

"Ana jud na (Ganyan talaga 'yan)."

Tawanan kaming lahat.

May konting katahimikan. Balik na naman kami sa mga recitalists.

"Kabalo ba mo, katong elementary pa ko, sige mig kuyog sa akong lolo (Alam niyo ba, yung lolo ko noong nasa elementarya pa ako, palagi kaming magkasama)."

"Mao ba?! Gaunsa man diay mo? (Talaga?! Ano naman ang ginagawa ninyo?)"

"Iya kong kuyugon sa mercado na (Isasama niya ako sa mercado)."

"Nya? (Tapos?)"

"Wa ra. Nakahinumdum ra ko nga kuyog mig palit ug pantat. Uli na tana mi, nya natagbu-an man namu iyang amigo sa taytay. Wa siya kabalo nga hadlok kaayo ko anang taytay kay sige baya nag uyog kung mu-agi nang mga sakyanan (Wala lang. Naalala ko na magkasama kaming bumili ng pantat. Uuwi na sana kami noong nakasalubong namin yung kaibigan niya. Hindi niya alam na takot ako sa tulay. Umaalog kasi kapag dumadaan ang mga sasakyan)."


itutuloy...


P.S. Naisipan ko pong hindi ituloy ang nailathala ko noong nakaraang linggo. May mga bagay na kailangan kong taguin sa mga panahong ito. Nawa'y maunawaan ninyo. Maraming salamat po!

PamiNsaN - miNsaN

Paminsan-minsan, nabablanko ang utak ko - nawawalan ako ng ganang magsulat, kumilos o kahit mag-isip man lang. At dahil dito ay nangangamba ako. Hindi kase normal para sa akin ang maging ganoon. Naaapektuhan din po kase ako sa mga bagay-bagay na nangyayari sa paligid ko.

Mag-dadalwang buwan na ang nakalipas noong pinatawag ako sa opisina ng dean namin.

Ika-25 ng Hunyo. Katatapos ko lang magpraktis ng piano. Mag-aalas dos na ng hapon noong pinuntahan ako ng sekretarya namin. Hinahanap daw ako ni sir sa opisina niya. Nagtaka ako.

"Ba't naman ako pinapupunta sa opisina? Hindi na 'ata 'to maganda." Halong kaba at pag-aalinlangan ang naramdaman ko noong panahong iyon. Dali-dali akong pumunta sa opisina.

"Ate, gandang hapon po. Pinapatawag po ako?" tanong ko sa sekretarya.

"O, dong. Gipangita kang Sir. Nara daw siyay pangutana nimu (Oo, iho. Hinahanap ka ni Sir. Meron daw siyang itatanong sa'yo.)."

Kapag pinatawag ka sa opisina, sa pagkaka-alam ko, ibig sabihin noon eh may nagawa kang hindi kaaya-aya o hindi kaya'y may nagawa kang maganda na kanilang napuna. Kaso, ang nangyari sa akin ay yung nauna.

"Ayong hapon, sir. Imo daw kong gipatawag ('Gandang hapon, sir. Pinatawag niyo daw po ako?)?"

"O. Nara koy ipangutana nimu. Lingkod sa, dong (Oo. May itatanong lang sana ako sa'yo. Upo ka muna, iho)."

"Aw, unsa man diay na kabahin sir (Aw, tungkol ho ba sa'n yan sir?)?”

itutuloy...

in mEmORiaM

Benigno Aquino (1932-1983), Philippine political figure, leading member of the opposition Liberal Party who was assassinated during the dictatorship of Ferdinand Marcos (1972-1986)

"Aquino, popularly known as Ninoy, married Corazon Cojuangco in 1954. He entered politics at the age of 22 and subsequently became the youngest mayor, governor, and senator to serve in the Philippines. Imprisoned in 1972 when President Marcos declared martial law, Aquino was allowed to move his family to the United States so he could undergo heart surgery. He later served as a research fellow at Harvard University and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. In 1983 he returned to Manila to work in the legislative election. Despite high security, he was assassinated as he deplaned on August 21. Although an investigation commission declared that several military allies of Marcos were responsible for the assassination, all defendants were acquitted in a 1985 trial. In 1986 a popular uprising in Manila, called the People Power Movement, forced Marcos to flee the Philippines, and Benigno’s widow Corazon Aquino took office as the elected president. The Supreme Court subsequently declared his murder trial a mistrial. In a new trial that ended in 1990, 16 military officials were convicted of his murder." Microsoft ® Encarta ® 2006. © 1993-2005 Microsoft Corporation.

August 21, 2008, the very same day, 25 years ago, sent the nation into mourning. Their voice for democracy was mercilessly shot as he got off the plane that brought him home. When he landed to the ground, Ninoy became immortal.

That scene has never faded since. To those who had seen it, they became the audience of history and went on to narrate it. To the rest of the Filipinos, that scene urged them to create and become a part of history.

Ninoy's death sparked a revolution. Reminiscent to what happened after Rizal's execution. But this time, it wasn't the Spaniards or the foreign colonizers that we were against, but the dictatorship and the cruelty of a government which was tormenting its race instead of working for its benefit.

If we look at it, Ninoy's death wasn't totally a tragedy. It was our weapon in destroying the trap which held us to being puppets of an unwanted way of ruling. His life served its purpose.

Now, 25 years after, the new generation is struggling to grasp the ideals of Ninoy. Beyond the history books and the articles, his legacy must live within the lives of the young. Ninoy gave himself to make sure that we are able to live freely, with nothing to hold us back, making us Filipinos with dignity and with pride.

P.S. Ika-21 ng Agosto, 2008 alas-otso ng gabi, namaalam ang aking lolo. Mawawala muna ako sa blogosperyo pansamantala. Nagluluksa ako sa pagkawala niya. Nawa'y ipagdasal po ninyo ang kanyang kaluluwa.

Photos courtesy of http://www.photobucket.com/. And special thanks to Pinky Jalandoni (http://pinkygj.multiply.com/journal/item/22)

anToinE

Upon noticing the door of what used to be my room flying open, I saw a boy with a very familiar face. A vision of my childhood days gushed before me. “Oh well, a new boy in town,” I said to myself. So I scampered off to work ignoring what I saw minutes ago.

As I departed my residence, things I habitually do seem to change that very moment. Instead of taking the jeepney and say that monotonous “Manong, bayad oh…” and the usual “…sa lugar lang ‘nong.” I realized that I was walking towards work. Because of that, I arrived later than expected.

At the office, I can’t take my eyes off from the clock hanging on the wall behind me. My manager noticed it and squinted. Raising her eyebrow, I squirmed inwardly. There was silence. My officemate grew scared of the silence that surrounded us.

“Mr. Reeds, please stay after work,” she announced breaking the stillness. I groaned while my manager’s almond eyes flickered on me. She picked her book and got on with the meeting. When she finished a line, the bell rang and everybody went out the room. The manager looked at me and sighed.

“What seems to be the problem, Mr. Reeds? Is there anything wrong? I have noticed that you’ve been so conscious about the time. Hurrying to go back home?” she asked me as her throaty voice penetrated the deafening silence. I gave no answer.

She kept on seeking me out until I finally said, “I need to go back home as early as possible. My goldfish died.” A morbid reply. But that was not the reason, really. I needed to go home because I was mystified by that boy who was staying in my old room. I feel that he needs me.

That event came to pass unnoticed. Months after, I realized that I was following that boy wherever he went. One can even be misguided by that actuation. There I discovered the life he lived.

When the clock struck six, the boy left without a word. I tip-toed down to his room and was surprised to see his diary open on top of his study table. In it said, “I am walking on the long road of life. I can clearly see the beautiful sun pasted on the heavens.” Curiosity enveloped my being as I started reading every word written on it. “As I would continue walking on that road that was leading me to nowhere, there was this feeling of emptiness. Something seems to be missing. And so my mind ordered me to look back and not continue this endless journey. But it was hopeless. The road started to cover itself with thick mist. The clouds turned coal-black, the sun vanished, it started to rain. I started to run hoping that I would escape this horrible sight. At that very moment, the road went crooked until I saw myself and realized that I was standing on a crossroad. With so much confusion on what road to take, my heart began to beat faster. I can do nothing but helplessly cry in vain.”

“Is there no one cares? God help me!” These were the very words I uttered. Then, at a snail’s pace, the rain stopped, lighting vanished in the great beyond, the thunder’s roar disappeared.”

“Sitting on the road, I stood up and wiped away the tears that welled in my eyes. Then, I saw somebody walking towards me. He held my hand, helped me stand, and comforted me. Knowing I’ll be safe, I did not dare look at him, not even a glance. With His presence, the road became clear again despite the trauma I had with what had happened continued to eat me."

“Do you know how much I care for you?” He asked as we sat on the grass underneath a tree. Then, He continued, “When you woke up this morning, I exploded a brilliant sunrise through your widow hoping to get your attention. You were unperturbed. Later, you were walking with friends, I bathe you through thunderstorms and painted a beautiful rainbow. But you didn’t even take your time to stop and gaze at the heavens. I hope you’ll talk to me soon. I’m just near. I love you!

Reading these lines, I was deeply moved. I decided not to finish what was written. My body shook. I was guilty. I was slapped with so much humiliation that I did not know what to do or what to say. I was left hanging in the air and was tongue-tied. As I slowly went out of his room, shame enshrouded my body. Shaken, I went back to my room, called some long lost friends, and thanked them for their unconditional support.

The following morning, I woke up early. I was surprised to see myself so excited of hearing mass after fifteen years. I went next door to say my apologies for sneaking my way to his room. Again, the door flew opened.

No one was there.

He wasn’t home.

It was empty.

This is the same old story my grandfather used to tell me when I was young. For the past twenty years, the only father I have come to know was my grandfather. It left a void in my heart when he died. “Now, I’ll never know what a father’s love is,” I said to myself. For the past twenty years, I haven’t seen my father – not even knowing who, what and where he was. I grew recognizing no man as my real father. Maybe it was part of God’s plan for me. Reminiscing the story, I slowly felt a yearning – a yearning for a father’s love. Time after time, memoirs of the story still haunt me. Tears form in my eyes as I recall the very lines my grandfather said – it was the very soul of my being before I breathe my last.

dOmiNiQuE

I can never understand my silence. Nothing seemed so possible especially when all I’ve gone through are quite different from everyone else. I found myself very contrasted from my own surrounding. I can’t help but ask “Why am I so different?” There may be times I find it so unique and made me, somehow, proud of my self. In the contrary, from time to time, I feel left out.

I am an ordinary boy everyone would come to think - a naïve being who is nobody’s concern. And I kind of like it even better. My story began when my parents divorced.

Mom and dad separated when I was at the tender age of sixteen. Being a surrogate parent to my younger brother was a tough duty. I had to stop schooling and had to find a job. I cried so many nights wondering where and how I could find one. Twas a great blessing that I landed one. Working in a mall – mopping every tile, sweeping every corner, and wiping every window – was, somehow, a decent and clean job. I stayed in that company for quite a long time and the management was happy to have me there.

During my stay in that place, I had lots of questions lingering inside me. Of the entire “why” and all the “what ifs” that made me think of doing so much revenge yet my conscience tells me not to. It would be so pathetic of me to do such malicious act. I keep on contemplating and hiding myself from the world I used to and learned to love. I shaped a barrier out of the disasters and of the hatred I feel deep in me. It made me despise the world and the life it gives.

Months passed and soon my fellow schoolmates, my teachers, and my friends knew what I was up to. “I don’t give a damn!” said I. No one cared, I thought, until the rumour buzzed around the whole campus. Upon hearing it, the school’s guidance counsellor called me. She told me that I have to see her one of these days. And without any hesitations, I decided to visit her office the succeeding day.

At the crack of dawn, I prepared myself to everything that might happen. I dressed my self to cloak the infamy my name was carrying - I annihilated my own reputation. On my way to the hall, I noticed that everyone was staring at me. I felt like a candle - bit by bit melting because of shame. I felt so insecured and that I had to get out of this loathsome sight. Every step I took seemed to be a very hard one. Every stride has its own feeling - a feeling of disgrace and of humiliation. Slowly, I sneaked my way into the counsellor’s office. Fear then started to envelop me – as if mortification was going to eat me whole. Her secretary approached me minutes later and told me to wait until I was called. To my surprise, I found the principal and the counsellor looking for me, too. With feelings of dread contained by me, I started to walk towards the conference room. There, everyone else was waiting.

Upon entering, the panel told me to stand at the middle of the room. I found myself cold-footed. Sweat, at that point, was dripping like water from an opened faucet. My body began to shake and feel numb. The interrogation began. There, they asked me to tell them the whole story – the story I always wanted to erase from my young and corrupted mind.

At the occurrence of remembering what had happened, I didn’t help myself but cry while telling them my story – of how dad beat mom up, of how he maltreated us, of how he placed me inside a sack and hang it upside down. Telling them of how he punched me and how blood flowed from my mouth and of how I suffered the pain it caused, of how he planned of shooting me at the head. And of how I began to look for a job to support and sustain my younger brother’s needs. I cried and cried remembering all these things until I could cry no more.

“No wonder it was a necessary thing for mom to divorce dad,” I said to myself.

I told them the information they wanted to hear. Even though my family’s reputation and dignity are at stake, I have no choice but to tell them. Soon, after hearing from me the story that was going around the campus, the panel talked with the counsellor and the principal. They let me out of the room for it was a very confidential conversation. So I walked out of the room with a great sigh of relief. The secretary sat beside me and told me that she knew everything. I just gave her a smile and nodded my head. After the long wait, they let me in again. Now the secretary has to accompany me. She led me towards the room. And with a wonderful smile, she opened the door. I wonder what that smile meant.

The principal, the counsellor, and the panel told me about their proposals. How happy was I upon knowing that the scholarship committee is very much willing to help me pay my brother’s and my school fees and that I have to worry no more.

Years passed and I graduated from college. Yes, growing without parents was a difficult for me. But it didn’t stop me from graduating Magna cum Laude. My brother is now a highly respected lawyer and I, a respected doctor. How thankful was I to the committee, the principal, the counsellor, my friends, and to everyone who helped out. And I began to realize what that smile meant.

Before, I was so embarrassed if everyone knew about my life’s story. Now, I can’t find any reason not to tell everyone else of how lucky I am. Every now and then, those bad memories still haunt me. Now, I fully understand what I feel and what to do with my own silence.

aLbiNo

ALBINO (the lone father of five, a widower)

When I was eighteen, my parents and I used to live in a small house situated opposite an old oak tree. The place was so picturesque, a Nirvana to one’s sight. It was as if the place was not altered by any human activity. It was heaven on the face of the earth.

As a young boy, I grew contented of what the Omniscient Being has given me. It made me realize that despite life’s enigmatic nature, one can still move on live life to the fullest. I started my pilgrimage in search for my fate.

Walking on through life’s path seemed to be exhausting. But seeing the beautiful sun perfectly pasted in the vast skies, smelling the flower-perfumed air and hearing the robin singing songs of praise slowly turned my exhaustion to excitement and my frustrations to longing. Yet, I grew skeptic and realized that the road I was trudging on was leading me to nowhere. Discontentment and forlorn enveloped my being that I began to perceive that I needed someone to share my life’s glories and turmoils with.

It was when I met Sandra.

Sandra, a girl born with a golden spoon in her mouth, was the only child of a rich couple working in one of Brunei’s sultan’s private-owned companies. School was fast approaching. Knowing that she owned a portion of where our humble home was located, I decided to befriend this spell-binding goddess. Somehow, I was hesitant of talking to her and seeking her out. Our friendship grew intimate as seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours and hours turned to day. And months turned to years. Because of all the gutsy actions I made, it changed my life when Sandra and I became one at heart.

Soon, we graduated with flying colours. Her parents were against the relationship. They tried to separate us but love always prevail. They slowly understood that nothing could equal with the love she has for me. It went on for years and we reached the verdict of settling down and get married. Sandra was one of the top international investors during those times while I was a highly regarded lawyer. On the day of our wedding, oh of how I wished that day would never end.

She bore me five little angels who made me so proud of being a full-pledged father. I was blinded by it all. I never took in the meagre fact that existence was like a wheel – which we cannot hold on to something forever neither can we stay permanently at the pedestal. One has to step down.

One has to change. One has to move on.

On the tenth year of our life, Sandra was diagnosed to have brain cancer. Fear started to cloud my mind as if it was the end of the world. I began to foresee that one day she’d never be on my side again. I was stunned. As we hurriedly rushed her towards the hospital, I began to question the Divine with all the “whys.”

On the way to the hospital, seeing Sandra gasp made me feel pity towards the enchanting beauty of the girl I love most. Tears welled in my eyes seeing her struggle with the hopeful wishing that everything’s going to turn out right.

One night, when the world outside was sleeping, while the soft breeze swept each leaf of the tree, while the stars endlessly twinkled above the cosmic skies, she slowly opened her eyes and called my name. It was like that of an angel’s voice kissing my ears. Hearing her, I hastily went beside her. She smiled at me. Right then and there, tears began to fall from our eyes. She panted and tried to say something.

“I’m so tired.” she said.

“No. Everything’s going to be fine,” I replied in total disagreement.

She was weak.

She was pale.

She was powerless.

“Please do take care of our cherubims. I love you!” slowly closing her eyes and went back to sleep.

I did not understand what she meant at first. Maybe someday I would.

And on that night wandering at the twilight zone, after saying those lines, Sandra breathed her last and never woke up again.

Life is a constant struggle with ourselves and with the world. One has to face the fact that change is the only thing permanent. Though Sandra left our children and me, I know she is always with us. She’d always be in my heart and mind. I know one day we’d be together again for love views each day with eager eyes, with wonder and surprise, with fresh delight in simple pleasures.

Love dreams its dreams and dries its tears and though the busy years gather bright, enduring treasures.

siPa-aN

Sa tanang buhay ko, ni hindi pa ako nakatanggap ng gantimpala sa aking mga naisulat. Palanca Award kaya, pwede?! JOKLAng po. Bise-bisehan ang drama ko noong nakaraang linggo kaya hindi ko gaanong nabigyan ng pansin 'tong kawawang blog ko. Pahinga muna tayo sa mga EMO posts ko.

Lingid sa aking kaalaman, may nangyari na pala sa kabilang bahagi ng blogosperyo. May "KISS-ASS BLOG Awards" na naganap. Naku po! Award award ang drama ni Miss Elle. Akalain mo ba namang binigyan ako ng award? Kaya eto, hala sige, mag-award award drama na din ako.


Ano ba ang basis? Eto daw:

Incredible, original content. Chak! Malay ko ba. Baka galing lang isang lumang diyaryo ang mga ipinagsusulat ko. Chak! JOKLAng po! Ewan. Hahaha!

Overflowing creativity. Sobra. As in. Kaya kahit ako dumudugo din ilong ko. Hahaha! Meron ba ako nun? Malay ko ba. Hahaha! Ika nga daw ni Miss Elle, "Pain brings out the best in you." Chak! Parang David Salon yata yun ah! Hahaha! Kaya tara, magsapakan tayo.


Helps you become a better blogger. Hala! Paano kaya pag lahat ng tao maapektuhan sa mga isinulat ko? Emo daw kse lahat. Naks! Baka maging baliw ang lahat. Naku po! Hwag naman sana.


A bloggy friend you can count on. Ang alam ko lang eh marunong akong magbilang. Tara, turuan kita. Hahaha!


Simply inspires you to be a better person. Ha?! Talaga?! Inspires? Ano yun? Masarap kaya yun? Hahahaha!

Kagaya nga ni Miss Elle, qualified din naman siguro ako. Marunong din naman kase akong sumipa ng puwet ng tao. Hahaha!

"Do you know any bloggers that kick ass? Maybe they've got original, incredible content. Or they're overwhelming with creativity. Is is someone that helps you become a better blogger? Or a bloggy friend you can count on? Or maybe it's someone who simply inspires you to be a better person... or someone else who sends you to the floor, laughing your ass off. Whatever the reason may be, I'm sure you know at least a couple of bloggers that kick ass. Well... why not tell 'em so? "


Hmm... Meron din naman. Kaya eto, sinisipa ko sina:

LEVIUSQE. (http://www.leviuqse.blogspot.com/) Retarded ang isang 'to kaya mahal ko. Hahaha! Loko lang. Mahilig siyang magtago ng notebook. "I am the light that wants to shine like the stars in heaven," ayan, lumuwang ang turnilyo sa utak. Peace!

FLINCH. (http://www.sweptunderrug.blogspot.com/) Nakikita ko ang sarili ko sa kanya. Yun nga lang, mas magaling siyang magsulat kung ikukumpara sa akin. Kagaya ng ibang bloggers na kilala ko, he writes from the heart. Kaya kung babasahin mo ang blog niya parang nasa harapan mo lang siya't nakikipag-usap sa'yo. Penge naman ng kinakain mo.

JAKE. (http://www.twistedkamatis.blogspot.com/) Idol ko ang abogadong 'to. Napapa-twist ika nga ang utak mo pagbinisa mo ang blog niya. Bakit?! Sabi niya, "This is the story of a lawyer living in a third-world paradise; who made a life-long commitment to a partner from the medical profession; who chose to be an observer rather than a participant; who acts rather than whines; who speaks about the mundane and the profound; who appreciates the ordinary and the bizarre; and who questions the conventional.This is the story of Jake Tornado's twisted life."

Miss Elle, maraming salamat po!

Sipa-an na!

twaS i aLL aLonG

“Sure thing…” Then he started to act diversely in such a way that it’s hypnotizing him already. He doesn’t even seem to care about the things that are happening around him. I saw the shadow of the devil cloaked him and slowly poisoned his young mind until he was totally blinded by it. He knew not that I was watching from a distance. No one, neither a single soul, perceived what I was up to.

Then one day, I was horrified knowing that he hooked up with a guy. I heard all the gossips that were running around. It slowly pierced my heart and depicted a tear in my eye. To think that he’s got everything – with all the talents, coupled with the exceptional intelligence everybody gets to envy with – I pity him of being so inane and of not using all these justly. Or maybe because he was just so overwhelmed by the love he found and that was given to him.

All these lasted quite long. I tried to forget what had happened and go on with my life but it never ceased of haunting me. I felt so much guilt especially that I knew all along what was happening but I made him go on his way.

Until one day, after sleeping on a bed full of roses, his life changed into complete hell. Depression and darkness ate him up. I cry seeing him so down. It totally ate him up until I unearthed him situated in a solitary confinement – he went to see a psychiatrist. The tragedy of his love almost made him lose his sanity and it was so pathetic of me just contented of gazing at him and doing nothing. He suffered from total misery and I didn’t know if he’d be able to cope up with it all.

“I think my son needs a psychiatrist. I’m so concerned!” his mom anxiously told me.

It was Christmas time and yet I see tears cascading down from his eyes. He seemed to ask himself why those things had to happen. He was not able to embrace such reality that they’ll never be together again. I felt so sorry for I wasn’t able to help him. I didn’t even know how.

New Year’s eve came and I was seeing no hope. It’s still the same old scenario I always behold since that day I saw him with his psychiatrist. I prayed that, sooner, he’d be able to get out of it and look into the brighter side of life.

It all started when his parents departed. His mom left to work abroad; his father was busy for a job promotion; his older brother was studying. All the duties and responsibilities were left to him. Somehow, I understood why he suffered all these. It’s just like a glass – so delicate and breakable, so vulnerable – once filled with water, there’s no way out but to give up and overflow. Like him, he gave up for he wanted to see the world and behold the wonders that stand tall against him. He wanted to be free. He wanted to behold everything there is and believe that he has everything in his grasp. Unfortunately, he never became one.

All these happened when he was invited to join his friends at a bazaar. There, he met this someone. They met in a very unique way – both started as enemies coupled with all the nonsense insults. Soon afterward, I found them busy communicating with each other.

“Will you be here tonight? I need some company, I guess. Would you mind giving me your landline?”

Then he asked, “Should I give it to him?”

“No, don’t give it out. I bet you know who this person is,” answered a friend.

But everything was too late. The number was already given.

Both communicated and ended up as lovers. Neither did his friends know. So, after it all, the two was the talk of the town. It was like fire spreading quickly through dried and rotten leaves.

On that occasion, they both left the group and never returned. Since that time I saw them both walking somewhere in the city, I heard the news that they finalized their relationship. Right then and there, his world turned upside down. They said that he doesn’t talk to anybody anymore. Not even to God. Sometimes, his parents would find him crying alone in his room. He began to be paranoid - he did not eat nor sleep.

Because of too many lapses made by me, I plotted out that I should go away and leave everything to somebody who has the capability of making this boy accept the things he ought to accept and change the things he can change. Early next morning, I left saying with a though in myself that I did the right decision. There, both of us went our own separate lives.

Years later, looking back with what he went through, he was way too different. I saw him reap the fruits of his labour and reach even the peak of success. I believe that he is happy now and contented of what he has.

Years passed, a lot of people grew weary and kept on asking me who that boy was. I just told them that they’d know in time.

And as I turn my back away from them, I simply smile and reminisce – 'twas I all along.


to be continued...

thE cRadLe

Prologue

There are moments of grief when I see this house, moments of joy and longing for the times when these memories were made day by day so many years have passed in this small house in the woods.

They fondly call this house in the woods “The Cradle.”

Since they were a group of five guys, they used to gather here every summer. For three months, they would wake up early in the morning to pitch for firewood in the nearby woods while one would cook them their sumptuous breakfast of eggs and ham. Just then, by the strike of eight o’clock, they would start to pack their hunting bags and tarry along each other’s back to look for their prized trophy.

Down till afternoon, they would walk and walk and searching for a besetting supper of fowls or deer, or anything that would show up for a good shot. Sometimes, they would go fishing down the surging creek a mile away from their “Cradle.” At night, after their supper, they would gather around the light as they tell stories of what had happened to everyone, of the love and tragedy of years gone past. Sometimes, they would tell each other of how they dealt with life and telling them of their own story, the day they met, how they longed for each other’s company until a friend died one night on his way home from work. Then, when the owls start to hoot and wolves moan, they would take their lighted candles to their own rooms and sleep for another of memories.

Day in and day out at the “Cradle” – a place where everything begun.

PART 1 MITCH (The Psychotic and a Love Fool)

There was once a boy who lived in a world he thought was full of fantasy. He secluded himself and shaped a barrier from the undeniable world. He thought that happiness was found in all the material things that the realm has to give. It blinded him so much until he found himself longing for the love he never came to know before.

“Teet…teet…” the cell phone went.

“Where are you? Everybody’s looking for you in here!”

As I watched him from afar, he seemed to be so excited. His eyes were filled with glamour and agitation. But he never knew it’d change his life forever.

I found him standing at the door looking for his friends not knowing where to sit and to mingle. He seemed so confused as if every detail of it was painted on his face.

“Who’s he?” one asked.

“Oh, he’s the newest member of the group.”

I pity him in the sense that he never knew he was the one being talked about.

“He’s way too young to know what the world and existence is,” I said to myself. Perhaps it made me realize that I was just way too protective. Then, I heard him say, “So you’re the one who keeps on going and coming back from the group? Good thing you showed up!” He came into view as someone tactless and uneducated. As if it were he never had the sense of respect.

As I sat in one corner of that room, I observed every move, every gesture he made. Fear started to envelop my being for I know what’ll happen next.

“Can I have your number?”

to be continued...

iT wOn'T dO YoU HaRm

This is a letter I wrote years ago. I was scheming through the pages of my old rotten diary when this struck me so much. It has been quite some time now, you see. But I am still clinging to it. I live. I love. I am me.


"Species do not change overnight, or even in the course of one lifetime. Rather, evolutionary change usually occurs in tiny, almost imperceptible increments over the course of thousands of generations—periods that range from decades to millions of years.

To study the evolutionary relationships among organisms, scientists must perform complex detective work, deriving indirect clues from the fossil record, patterns of animal distribution, comparative anatomy, molecular biology, and finally, direct observation in laboratories and the natural environment.

Like me, it might take a lifetime for me to totally change all the things I want changed. It may cost a lot for me to do as such but in the end, I know, eventually, it will be worth it.

Life is a constant world that has its never-ending changes - we have to face each circumstance with no BUTS, no WHAT IFS, no HOWS nor WHYS. We have to live life each day to the fullest and accept things as they come. Rushing things would just make all those confusions worse.

Our lives are entirely different . We came from different worlds. There may be things that I may not understand but that's sheer reality. We have nothing to do but live by it.

I am having all those wishful thinkings that fate would be good to me years from now. After all that had happened, I really don't know what and where and who to hang on to.

After all, my life doesn't have its sense of value to others anymore.

People would come and go then destroy your naiveness.

But i just cant blame them.

I wanted it all somehow."

My mom used to tell me that one has a miserable life because he chose to trudge on that path. It ends up to one's stubborness and one begins to hide and would prefer the things that are wrong.

It came to my realization that I too am a very miserable and frustrated person - because I chose to be one. Everybody has his own free will, you see. With whatever decisions you made, making or are about to make, listen from within, from the people around you.

It won't do you any harm. Just let your heart and ears be open to all the changes life and fate to has offer.

diSiLLuSioNmEnTs

"MALIGNANT SEPARATION OF 1999"

It is, so they thought, the solution to this marriage-from-hell, the answer to a battered woman’s prayer, the remedy for the hopeless case of polygamy, the super-hero who saves the innocent victims from those bad villains.

With all these, we all did get hurt. And with all those, we have cut our hearts deeply leaving scars – scars that would, for all eternity, remind us of that painful recollection we have had. It is embodied in those scars that our existence has shaken the core of the earth and was blown by the winds of time. Yes, my parents separated.

All went by so fast as if it never happened. I and my brothers had endured all the pains and strive of what my father has become. Everyday seemed like an endless torment – a scenario you never wished to have seen.

We have been bounded to the stereotypes of our old-aged tradition – that family and God work hand in hand resulting to quarrels and injury – my father left home not to work but to find another haven, we, becoming juvenile delinquents, who were so rebellious and unstoppable ignoring the real epitome of the home as a means of escape.

It did set us free from the grasp of the monstrous monster. It gave us space – some air to breathe – and another shot to a might-be-so-good-a-relationship. It became our fall-back who were led astray by his selfish thirst for lust, money, power and justification for all the transgressions that have had arisen. It is letting lose from strangulation of all the complexities of married life towards a road leading to nowhere. Empathy does not justify the recurring commotions nor does pity rationalize the sorrows one has suffered – a nadir to all your grievances – an unfathomable pit of the disfigurement of one’s heart and mind.

"THE AWAKENING"

I have known many and different kinds of people in my life. I’ve met men who are caring and sensitive and men who are cruel and calculating. I’ve known women who are sincere and honest and women who are jealous and hateful. I’ve seen smiles filled with lies and tears wet with truths. I’ve shared time with those who have needed me and I’ve been by myself when I was in need. I’ve been associated with people who are dreamers but not doers and with people who make promises but never keep them. I’ve found myself learning how to understand all these personalities and to avoid those that cause my life’s sadness.

With all these, one gets to go through and discover what fate has in stored for us – a submission of one’s self, of one’s being, of one’s soul, for any living and existing soul there is no matter what, regardless of faith and upbringing.

Every time I talk about fate's reasons of all I am going through right now, I can't help but be nostalgic - a question of why all the pain after all the strives and sufferings, of difficulty to understand and grasp all that there is right now, of why certain things needed to happen. It made and continuously makes me breed butterflies in my stomach every time thoughts such as these go 'round my mind. My paranoia's slowly eating me. I hope someday, sooner or later, I will have that strength and courage to face the world again with head held high and heart willing to embrace such enormous change no one dares to.

These are the derailments in me – a transition of all my emotions and being; a pilgrimage in search of truth, justice, peace, friendship and love.

With all these in you, we may be able to find that happiness our hearts have long been longing for. We turn away from making a barrier out of the fantasies we always deem real. We get to accept the world and its imperfections and ignore all our disillusionments, anxieties, infirmity and bewilderments. We unleash our capacities to think harmoniously with the world and everything there is and have that creativity in looking towards life in a very optimistic way. Sooner or later, we begin to see clearly the mode in which we can affect the world, its people and by the manner that we too are affected by it. We begin to see that our wreckness changes into clearness, our entrapments to liberty, dissatisfaction and forlorn to exhilaration, and our anxieties to tranquillity. “For he who pursues righteousness and kindness will find life and honor (Proverbs 21:21).”

i aM sTiLL ThaT JoSepH

"SEVERE MILITARY TORTURE OF 1997

After my father’s “Benign Mutation”, another wave came. This wave was the “Severe Military Torture” – an upgrade to the low-level oral aversion of 1996.

This time, I experienced yet another agonizing moment that would depict the Passion of Christ.

I can still remember the perfect display of my acts; kneeling on mongo seeds and rock salt, belt-buckle whipping, and getting locked on the comfort room are a few examples of my arduous punishments.

Would it be reasonable to hurt somebody due to plain emotional instability and pure fascist rule?

The former would be highly revocable to contend with the justification of prudent parental moral obligation but the latter was an intense freedom from the thought that I would never be able to experience a caring father forever.

But even after all that has happened, I still dreamt that one day, I would find a logical, reasonable, and acceptable explanation behind his inane hurting. I was the hopeful one among my kith and kin.

That even when everything went topsy-turvy, I would still be a Joseph who would be highly optimistic and dream that someday, everything would be fine.

It hurts.

It hurts a lot.

"ACUTE PHYSICAL ABUSE OF 1997 – 1998"

The pangs and the wounds didn’t seem to heal. I wouldn’t dream that after a few weeks, months, or a year, I would still suffer the same, if not more, than what I had received from the iron clad, rock hard grip of my father’s hands.

But sadly, he still was the never tiring abusive head of the nearly crumbling home that we used to know.

Now, he treats us like toys – enjoying the pointless battering and unexplainable blabbering. It was the complete transformation of a once humane father to a monster I wish I never had known before.

At the occurrence of remembering what had happened, I can’t help myself but cry– of how dad beat mom up, of how he maltreated us, of how he placed me inside a sack, hang me upside down and of how he planned of shooting me at the head, of how he punched me and of how I suffered the pain it caused.

to be continued...

ePiToMe oF a mAn's DaRknEsS

"There are 6 billion people in this world - some are running scared, some are coming home, some tell lies to make it through the day, some are evil men struggling with good, some are good struggling with evil."

Family had always been the strongest foundation to a man's life. It is where he begins; it is where he draws back.

As the Microsoft Encarta Encyclopedia states, a family is the basic social group united through bonds of kinship or marriage, present in all societies. Ideally, the family provides its members with protection, companionship, security, and socialization. The structure of the family and the needs that the family fulfils vary from society to society. The nuclear family—two adults and their children—is the main unit in some societies.

It may be funny to some people, but having a dad who would shout at you every 4:00AM of your weekday just to go to school, shout at you to get up using words of extreme descriptive and emotional sensation that you don’t need to hear just to tell he’s mad, and physically hurt you just to have you eat your breakfast without even having the slightest feeling of holding back, is not really an anecdote to those who are suffering or had suffered the extreme showcase of father-son love. It was like cancer – an agonizing experience that will slowly and painfully devour you.

The traumatizing experience that I had with my dad started in a very early stage until it slowly consumed the rest of my humane perception of him.

Let me put it in four stages:

“BENIGN MUTATION OF 1996"

In my family with 5 siblings, I can be considered as the blacksheep among the rest. I wouldn’t always go with him anywhere he goes.

The year was 1993. It was one of the most amazing years that I can remember with him, aside from the darkest decades that I endured, being my father. He was cool. A law enforcer for a dad was a child’s, during my time, dream dad. He would always bring me to school wearing his overly cool police uniform and would, again fetch me after his work. It was great calling him my father.

But not all stories go too well. It was not a fairy tale. Years went on and here I saw that my father was suffering from "Benign Mutation."
It was the year 1996 when everything changed. Setting aside the complex strata of Philippine political destabilization and politically incurred rallies, my dad underwent a sudden phenomenal and abrupt change.

He turned into a monster.

He started to act weird towards us, towards me. He was hostile, unreceptive, harsh, and tough. He treated us with utmost distaste. He started shouting at us for no valid reason at all. Whip us with his belt for petty mischief.

Would your father whip you for playing with the fixtures on the clothesline? Well, my father did.

It was sad to say that from that point on, I started to feel something was different. Things would never be the same - that I will have this kind of person in front of me for a decade of sadness and hate.


to be continued...

nGiti

Nasa Dumaguete ako sa kasalukuyan - nakikipag-sapalaran pa din sa libo-libong mag-aaral sa pamantasan ng Silliman. Magbe-bente kwatro na ako. Kung iisipin eh dapat nagtatrabaho na ako. Nasa eskwela pa din ako hindi dahil bobo ako kundi dahil sa palipat-lipat ako ng pamantasan.

Iba ang diyalekto dito - Bisaya kung tawagin. Mahirap sa umpisa lalo na't hindi ako nasanay sa ganung klaseng pananalita. Pero kailangang matuto. Mahirap na kaseng mabenta! (Joke lang po!)

Matagal-tagal na din akong hindi nananagalog dito kaya naisipan kong mag-trip gamit ang aking celfon. Hindi kasi sanay ang mga tao dito sa Tagalog. Nakakaintindi sila, oo, pero inaamin din nilang nahihirapan sila sa pagsasalita nito. Dahil sa wala akong magawa, may na-isip akong gawin. Bago ako matulog eh naisipan kong magpadala ng mensahe sa mga kaibigan ko. At heto ang naging laman nun:

"Matagal-tagal na din akong hindi nananagalog. Bisaya na lang kase araw-araw. Kaya eto. Hmm.

Kainis isipin na nalulungkot pa din ako lalo na kapag naaalala ko ang mga napagdaanan ko. Pilit ko mang iwasan ay nagpupumilit itong bumalik sa aking isipan. Nalulungkot ako at may mga tao akong nasaktan. Pasensya na po. At salamat sa patuloy na pag-unawa. Alam ko pong hindi sapat ang lahat ng mga salitang ito para maibsan ang sakit at sama ng loob na naidulot ko. Tinatanaw ko pong malaking utang na loob ang makilala kayo at maging parte ng aking masalimuot na buhay. Sa konting panahong nagkakilala tayo, ang dami ko pong natutunan. Salamat po.

-Mico"

Apat na bahagi ang mensahe. Salamat at uso ang unlimited texting. Mahirap na kaseng magpaload lalo na't napakamahal na ng mga bilihin. Sabay hang ng celfon ko. Kainis!

"Hala Mico, mura man intawon kag magpakamatay ani mesidja! Mura naman kag namiya-miya! Naunsa man intawon ka oi?! (Hala Mico, para ka namang magpapatiwakal sa mensahe mo! Namama-alam ka na ba? Ano ba'ng nangyayari sa'yo?)"

Naalimpungatan ako. Napatawa. May nag-aalala pa din naman pala sa akin kahit papaano.

Ang weird nga lang ng ibang tao. Akala nila eh magpapakamatay daw ako. Nag-eemote na sana ako pero hindi ko napiligilang mapatawa. Napa-isip tuloy ako. "Mukha bang namama-alam na ako?! Hindi naman ah!" Paulit-ulit kong binasa ang mensahe ko. Wala naman akong nakitang rason para makapag-isip sila ng ganoon.

Ang dami kong replies na natanggap. Naging epektibo ang akin mensahe. Natatawa nga ako sa ibang nagrereply kase dumudugo na daw ilong nila sa kakabasa. Ang iba nama'y nagpasalamat.

"Mico, lalum kaayo! (Mico, ang lalim naman n'un!) Love you!" text ni Joyce.

"Smile! Thank you! Makahilak kog popcorn aron. (Baka umiyak ako ng popcorn neto!)" naging sagot ni Abby.

Hindi ko na nabasa lahat ng mga replies nila. Umaga na noong nakita kong puno ng mga mensahe ang inbox ko. Nakatulog na kase ako. Ganoon pa man, naging masaya ang gising ko. Bumalik ang ngiti sa mukha ko. Salamat po sa inyo!

kaPiGhaTiaN

Ano ba ang meron sa buhay at ba’t parang lahat ng tao ay nag-aasam ng mga bagay na hindi naman nasasalat? Kailan pa kaya nila maiintindihan na tanging pag-ibig at pagkakaibigan lamang ang mga bagay na makabuluhan? Dahil doon, tayo ay nagiging malungkot, nagiging marupok. Hinuhusgahan natin ang ibang tao. Nakakasakit tayo. Lingid sa ating kaalaman na sa bawat mapangahas nating ginagawa ay unti-unti natin sinasaktan ang ating mga sarili. Oo, nahihilom din ang sugat nito. Kasabay ng paghilom nito ay ang panghabang-buhay na pilat na hindi mabubura ng panahon.

Lahat ng ito ay mga kapighatian ko – ang pagbabago ng aking mga nararamdaman, aking mga pananaw, at ng aking pagkatao.

Madalas, maingay ako sa silid-aralan. Sabi nga ng mga kaklase ko, kulang daw ako sa pansin. Sabi naman ng iba eh nahihibang na daw ako. Ginagawa ko lang naman iyon sa pag-aakalang makakalimutan ko din ang lahat. Ayoko lang naman kaseng maging malungkot pagna-aalala ko ang mga bagay.

Paminsan-minsan nama’y nagtataka sila kung ba’t tatahimik na lang akong bigla. “Wala ito,” tanging naisasagot ko. Naghahanap ng katahimikan ang magulo kong isipan. Dinadamdam ang bawat pintig ng aking puso. Masayang malamang buhay pa ako at nabigyang muli ng pagkakataong magawa ang mga bagay na dapat kong gawin – na magmahal ng walang kapalit.

Ang bilis ng oras. Parang kelan lang noong siya’y umalis.

“Nalulungkot ako ngayon kase wala ka. Nalulungkot ako kase nangungulila ako sa’yo. Nalulungkot ako. Hindi ko alam kung bakit. Ewan. Basta.”

Ang dami ko nang pinagdaanang kabiguan sa aking buhay. Ganoon pa man, lahat ng iyong ay naging panandali-an lamang. Binuksan ng pagkakataon ang aking mga mata sa mga katotohanang nakapalibot sa akin. Kung minsan, nabibigo akong kilalanin na ang dami pala ng mga bagay na dapat kong pasalamatan. Naging bulag ako – nabulag sa kadahilanang nakikita ko lang ang gusto kong makita. Bingi ako dahil naririnig ako lamang ang mga gusto kong marinig. Ang mga Unti-unting nananalaytay sa aking ugat at unti-unti intong nilalason ang aking isipan. Alam ko na ang dami ng hindi sumasang-ayon dito.

Sabi nga ni Ina dati, miserable daw ang buhay ng tao kase pinili niyang tahakin ang ganoong landas. Kaya nagiging matigas hindi lang ang ulo ng tao pati na rin ang puso neto. Hindi natin namamalayan na ang mga bagay na ating ginagawa ay hindi na tama. Na tayo ay nakakasakit na. Ako ay miserable kase ginusto ko iyon. Siguro kailangan ko pang buksan ang aking puso, makinig sa mga dapat kong pakinggan.

Ang daming pagkakataong tinatago natin ang totoo nating nararamdaman. Natatakot tayong husgahan. Nalilito ako. Hindi naman kase lahat ng tao ay ganoong landas ang tinahak. Siguro nagbunga ito dahil sa mga bagay na ipinapakita ng lipunan. Nabubuhay tayo sa mapanlinlang na mundo. Nagbabalat-kayo.

PaGhaHanGaD

May mga bagay-bagay na mahirap palita’t alisin kung ikukumpara sa iba lalo na’t nakasanayan na natin ito. Ang mga bagay na parati nating iniisip ay hindi na umiiba’t sinusunod lamang ang mga nakasanayan na. Nalilimutan nating tayo ay kailangang maliwanagan at dapat gabayan. Nalulugmok tayo sa isang malaking kawalang hindi natin alam kung ano. Alam ko ‘yan sa akin sarili. Kinokontrola ko ang aking buhay at binubuhos ang aking lakas sa mga maliliit at walang-kabuluhang limitasyong iniisip kong kaaya-ay’t katangap-tangap. Nakakalimutan ko ang ibang alternatibo ng buhay.

Mahirap harapin ang pagbabago. Nakakatakot kase kung iisipin. Tinatanggap ko ito ng walang halong pangamba at kung kinakailangan. Pero may isang bagay akong napuna, hindi ako ganoon ka bukas sa iba’t-ibang pagbabago ng buhay – naging kumportable ako sa aking araw-araw na ginagawa’t mga obligasyon. Subalit ang aking kaluluwa’y pinapaalalahanan ako na ang pagtuklas ay libangan ng buhay, na ang pag-eeksperimento’y partisipasyon natin at ang mga bawat pinagdada-anan natin ay pamamaraan ng buhay upang maipabatid sa atin na ito ay walang hangganan at tayo ay hindi. Na ang lahat ng ito’y lilipas din. Na ang buhay natin ang hiram lamang.

Iba’t-ibang klase na din ng tao ang nakilala ko sa aking buhay – may mga lalaking sensitibo at mapag-aruga at meron ding mapangahas at mapanlinlang. May mga babaeng sinsero at totoo sa kanilang sarili at meron din namang inggitera’t mapagmataas. Nakakita na din ako ng mga ngiting puno ng kasinungalingan at mga luhang basang-basa at punong-puno sa katotohanan. Naging bahagi na din ng buhay ko ang mga taong malalaki ang mithiin sa buhay pero wala naman ginawa para makamtan ito – mga taong mahilig gumagawa ng pangako pero hindi naman ito tinutupad. Nakita ko ang aking sarili na pilit kong iniintindi ang lahat ng klase ng personalidad na ito at iwasan ang mga bagay-bagay na nagbibigay kalungkutan sa aking buhay.

Kaninang umaga, pagkagising ko, humarap ako sa salamin. Nagtataka ako. Napa-isip. Mas matanda na ako, ang buhok ko’y pagod na din at ang kinang na dati’y nasa mata ko pa noong bata ay nawala na. Unti-unting nawawala ang kabataan ko kasabay ang sigla nito. Napalitan ito ng pag-aalinlanga’t pag-aalala, ng kalungkutang hindi ko mawari kung ano ang sanhi.

Sa isang saglit, natauhan ako. Ang mukha sa salamin ay nagbabago sa harap ko. “Nah! Baka hindi ka lang nakapag-ayos ng sarili mo,” nasabi ko. Pero sa kailaliman ng aking pagkatao, alam ko na ang lahat ng ito’y mga pagbabagong kinakailangan kong harapin. Kagaya ng parati kong ginagawa, ngumiti uli ako sabay sabing “Hindi ka naman ganoon ka panget, hindi pa matanda.” Pero hindi din ito umubra. Linakihan ko pa ang pag-ngiti na para bang nakabungis-ngis na sa pag-aakalang makakahanap ako ng konswelo sa aking ginagawa. Ni hindi nga din iyon nakatulong. Siguro, ito’y paalala na kinakailangan ko nang gawin ang mga bagay na gusto kong gawin, harapin ang pagbabago ng walang takot at bumangon sa aking pagkakalugmok. Kinakailangan kong ipagpatuloy ang aking buhay. Ang dami pang dapat tuklasin, dapat makita.

Nangungulila ang puso ko sa mga taong naniniwala pa din sa mga bagay na ipinapamulat ng buhay, sa mga katotohanan nagbibigay lakas, sa pagiging sinsero sa lahat ng oras, sa pag-kalinga, sa pagkakaibigan. Higit sa lahat, ngangungulila ang puso ko sa mga taong alam kung ano talaga ang pag-ibig at kung paano maging kaibig-ibig. Naghahanap ang puso ko ng paraiso kung saan ang lahat ng tao’y magkani-ig – na tanging iniisip lang ay ang mga bagay na makakapagbigay kasiyahan sa ating mga puso – pagkakaibiga’t mga mithiing inaasam nating lahat. Nangungulila ang puso ko sa panahong tanging pag-ibig at pagkakaibigan ang pinaka-importante at pinakamasayang parte ng ating buhay.

Paminsan-minsan, nalulungkot tayo sa landas na ating tinatahak at ang mga taong naging parte nito. Unti-unting binabalot ng kalungkutan ang ating pagkatao. Hindi natin naiiwasang tanungin ang ating mga sarili kung ano talaga ang kahulugan ng lahat ng ito sa ating mga buhay.

Sa bawat araw na dumadaan, nakikita ko na may mga taong mas malaki pa ang dinadala’t pinapasang kalungkuta’t pag-aalinlangan kung ikukumpara sa akin. Iyon nga lang, mas alam nila kung papaano harapin ang lahat ng iyon na may tapang at determinsayon. Napa-isip uli ako. Kung iisipin kase hindi naman siguro ganoon kalaki at kabigat ang mga pinapasan ng puso ko – na kinakailangan kong maging masaya, maunawai’t mapag-mahal. Kailangan ko pang magsikap at magpunyagi para makamit ito. Ito’y nagbibigay sa akin ng lakas upang magtiwala sa aking sarili at sa aking mga munting kakayanan. At higit sa lahat, magpasalamat sa mga bagay na meron ako sa bawat araw ng aking buhay.

maLinG aKaLa

Magkasabay kaming umuwi noong gabing iyon. Ang dami naming napag-usapan. Yung parang wala nang bukas. Yung parang amin ang mundo. Pagdating ko ng bahay, humiga ako sa aking kama na yakap-yakap ang unan. Halong lungkot at saya ang naramdaman ko. Pero inaamin ko, nag-aalala pa din ako.

“Kailangan ba talaga niyang umalis? Ba’t ganun? Ang dami pang kailangang makita, ang dami pang dapat malaman pero ang iksi ng panahon. Ganun ba talaga dapat?” Napatulo ang luha ko.

Bukas kinaumagahan, araw ng kanyang pag-alis, nakatanggap ako ng isang mensahe sa aking celfon.

“Libre ka ba mamayang gabi? Dinner tayo.”

“Salamat at hindi natuloy ang pag-alis niya.” Masayang-masaya ako. Napatalon sa saya ang puso ko.

“O sige. ‘San ba tayo magkikita? Ano bang meron at may pa-dinner dinner ka pang nalalaman?”

“Dun pa din. Sa pinupuntahan natin. Alas-siete ha? H’wag na h’wag kang makakalimot. Okey? Basta. Punta ka ha? Aantayin kita.”

Buong araw kong inihinanda ang sarili ko. Laking pasasalamat ko’t hindi natuloy ang pag-alis niya.

Pasado alas-siete na ako dumating. Imbes pagkagalak, kaba ang aking nadarama. Hindi ko mawari kung bakit. Nabalot ang isip ko ng pag-aalinlangan. Parang may mali. Parang hindi tama. Despedida party pala. Isang maling akala.

Andun ang lahat – ang kanyang pamilya, mga kaklase noon kolehiyo, barkada at ilang kaibigan. Sa isang saglit, umiba ang anyo ng lahat. Para akong nasa isang malawak na karagatan na puno ng mga nilalang na hindi ako pamilyar. Mga bagong mukha. Pakiramdam ko’y nag-iisa ako. Ang daming panauhin. Halos lahat propesyonal na – may trabaho, may pamilya, may anak. Samantalang ako, isang hamak na musikerong nagmumukmok sa isang sulok. Nanliliit ako.

Sa mga oras na iyon, ibang-iba siya. Hindi ko na siya kilala. Hindi na siya ang dating isdang nakilala ko, isdang napamahal na sa akin. Yung parang walang pagmamalasakit. O baka sakim lang talaga ako – iniisip lang ang aking nararamdaman? Lumapit siya sa akin. “Okey ka lang ba diyan? Kuha ka lang ng gusto mo ha? Doon muna ako sa kabilang mesa.” Sabay ngiti. Kakaiba ang aura niya noong gabing iyon – yung klase ng aura na pakiramdam mo wala kang halaga. Nanliliit ako – maliit na kahit isang hamak ng butil ng bigas ay mas malaki pa sa akin. Hindi ko kinaya kaya naisipan kong bumaba. Mabuti na lang at nandoon ang isa sa mga kaibigan namin. Kumuha ako ng isang bote ng beer sabay sindi sa sigarilyong hawak-hawak ko.

“Ba’t siya ganoon? Hindi naman siya dating ganyan, hindi ba?” naitanong ko sa aking kaibigan.

“Ha?! Ano?! Sino?!” napataas ang kilay ng kaibigan ko.

“Wala. Baka ganoon lang talaga.” Isang malaking buntong-hininga kasabay ang pagbuga ng usok mula sa hinihithit kong sigarilyo.

Hindi na ako bumalik sa taas. Nagsasaya kase silang lahat. Ayoko ng ganun. Weird ano? Aalis na din lang ang tao, naisipan pang mag-party. Tsk. Tsk. Ewan ko ba. Hanggang ngayon ay hindi ko pa din lubos maintindihan ang mga bagay na kagaya neto.

Mag-iisang oras na yata ako sa baba noong namalayan niyang wala na ako dun. Nagpapakalunod ako sa lungkot at galit na nararamdaman ko. Nagmukha ng tambutso ang bunganga ko sa kakahithit ng sigarilyo. Ilang bote na din ang naubos ko. Medyo lasing na. Tahimik akong nakaupo sa isang sulok. Makitid na ang utak. Nakatunga-nga. Nang biglang, “My feelings are for you. And that is for sure. I hope you’d understand that my family doesn’t know.”
Naka-ukit yan sa utak ko magpahanggang sa ngayon. Hindi ko nga din alam kung naaalala pa niya ang lahat ng sinabi niya sa akin. Lahat ng nangyari. Lahat.

“Naiintindihan ko. Wala naman ako sa posesyon para magramdam nang ganito, hindi ba?”
Hit-hit pa din ako ng sigarilyo sabay lunok sa usok nitong nilason ng lalo ang makitid kong utak. Damang-dama ko ang pagkakadiin ng mapurol na kutsilo sa puso ko. Masakit. Nakamamatay.

“Sino ba naman ako para bigyan niya ng halaga?” buntong-hininga. Ewan. Puno na siguro ng usok ang utak ko. Nakalutang ang lahat sa ere – ang isip ko, ang puso ko, ang pagkatao ko.
Umuwi akong mag-isa. Hindi ko na hinintay na matapos ang party. Ika-28 ng Mayo, huling pagkakataong nasilayan ko ang maamo niyang mukha. Huling araw na nakita ko siyang ngumiti’t masaya. Huling araw na nahawakan ko ang kanyang kamay – kamay na alam kong hindi magiging akin. Iyon na ang huli naming pagkikita.

“Para saan pa? Para ano? Walang dahilan para mag-saya.”

Hindi ko napigilang mapa-iyak. Para akong isang sanggol na naghahanap ng kalinga ng aking ina. Bawat patak ng luha ko’y kasabay ang mga naglahong mithiin. Kasabay sa ihip ng hangin, inagos ng malalaking alon ang kastilyong gawa sa buhangin. Hindi naging madali para sa akin ang lahat. Sabay bunot sa kutsilyo sa malalim na pagkakabaon nito sa puso ko. Kinailangan kong magsimulang muli.

“Kararating ko lang ng Hong Kong. Pakabait ka ha? Ingat ka palagi!” huling mensaheng natanggap ko mula sa kanya sa aking celfon.

Hindi ko na napigilan ang pag-alis niya.

Wala na akong magagawa.

Wala na akong nagawa.

Wala na.

Wala.

P.S. Lahat ng ito’y hango sa kwento ng aking buhay. Sa lahat ng nagtanong, nagtatanong at magtatanong pa, opo, nangyari ang lahat ng ito. Ito’y hindi likha ng aking imahinasyon o kathang-isip lamang. Ang isda ay nasa Amerika pa din sa kasalukuyan. Magtatatlong taon na din po kaming hindi personal na nagkita.
Masaya ako at inyong sinubaybayan ang makulay at marupok na kwento ng isang katulad ko. Ikinagagalak ko po na kahit sa pamamagitan ng aking mga inilathala sa blog na ito, ay nagkani-ig tayo.

At sa’yo, Isda, kagaya ng sinabi ko noong isang araw, inaamin kong binawasan ko ang ibang bahagi ng kwento sa kadahilangan may mga bagay na kinakailangan itago sa mundo. Isang bagay lang din ang ipinapangako ko, at buong-puso kong ipinapangako, hinding-hindi ko dinagdagan ang kwento sa kapakanan ng aking blog at sa mga taga-subaybay nito.

Naka-ukit na sa aking puso’t isipang ang lahat ng nangyari apat na taon na ang nakalipas. Mas maliwanag pa ito sa sikat ng haring araw. Mas malinaw pa sa mala-krystal na tubig ng malawak na batis. Sapat na ang malaman mo ang lahat ng aking naramdaman noong panahong iyon at mga nararamdaman ko sa kasalukuyan. Maraming salamat at pinuno mo ng kulay ang buhay ng isang malungkot na nilalangang na kagaya ko. Mahal pa din kita’t nangungulila ako sa iyo.

-Mikee

hOmE-mAdE caRd

Mahilig akong magsulat. Kahit nga home-made cards eh pinagdidiskitahan pa. Emosyonal ako. ‘Yon ang isang malaking kahinaan ko. Buong-puso kong inaamin yaon. Nasisiyahan kase ako sa mga konting bagay na ginagawa ng tao para sa akin. Pinahahalagahan ko yaon. Paminsan-minsan, dahil sa kahinaang ‘yon, parati akong nasasaktan.

Ika-25 ng Mayo, naisipan kong gawan siya ng card. Kahit sa ganoong paraan eh maalala niya ako. Ibinuhos ko ang lahat ng aking nararamdaman – saya, galit, puot, pagkabigo, lungkot at kung paano niya napasaya ang puso ko kahit saglit lang. Kung paano niya pinuno ng kulay ang buhay ng isang isdang katulad ko na nasa isang malaking kawalan sa malawak na karagatan. Hindi ganoon kadali magsulat ng mga bagay na iyon lalo pa’t konting panahon lang naman ang pinag-samahan naming. Kung tutuusin nga eh hindi dapat dinidibdib ang mga bagay na nangyari sa isang lingo. Ganoon pa man, naging parte na din siya ng aking malungkot at puno ng pagkabagabag na pagkatao. Sa oras na ‘yon, pakiramdam ko pasan ko ang bigat ng mundo. “Kakayanin ko ‘to.”

Ang bawat araw na lumilipas ay siyang katumbas ng kahilingan kong hindi matuloy ang pag-alis niya. Nasa isang mall ako noon. Naka-upo sa foodcourt habang nag-aantay ng oras. Papunta kase ako sa tagpuan namin. Datapwa’t, nabago ang lahat - nabago ang pagkatao ko. Kahit ilang baldeng luha pa ang ibuhos ko, hindi na mababago ang lahat. Ang aking nadarama para sa kanya ay ang tanging bagay na nagbibigay sa akin ng lakas para harapin ang lahat. “Hopeless romantic,” ika nga nila.

Mag-aalas siete na ng gabi noong kami’y nagkita. Andoon ang lahat – ang mga kaibigan naming todo suporta. Masaya silang nakikita kaming magkasama. Kasabay noon ang pangambang isa sa amin ang masasaktan. Ganoon pa man, kahit sa aking kalungkutan, ay napapangiti pa din niya ako. Hindi ko iniisip ang lahat. Walang oras na sinayang. Dapat masaya palagi. Sa aking pag-ngiti, kasabay ang kirot na nadarama ng aking puso.

Masaya akong nakikita siyang nakangiti. Yong ngiti na wari’y walang dinaramdam. Na walang inaalala. Masaya ako kapag nakikita siyang ganoon. Napa-ibig akong lalo.

“May ibibigay ako sa iyo,” sabay bigay ng card.

“Wow! Salamat! Matagal-tagal na din akong hindi nakatanggap ng card.” Kinurot niya ang aking pisngi.

Hiyawan silang lahat. Hiyang-hiya ako. Abot-tenga ang ngiti ko. Lumakas lalo ang kabog ng aking dibdib.

“Salamat sa pagiging maaalahanin,” dugtong niya. Binuksan niya ito sa harap ng aming mga kaibigan at binasa. Napangiti uli siya.

“Pasensya ka na kung ‘yan lang ang maipapabaon ko sa’yo,” nakayuko kong sinabi sa kanya.

Hindi na siya umimik. Tiningnan niya ako sa mata – parang may ipinapahiwatig. Isang bagay na hindi na kailangan pang sabihin. Naintindihan ko iyon. Hinawakan niya ng mahigpit ang aking kamay. Natahimik ang puso ko.


itutuloy…