Ang Takbo ng Mundo

Medyo may tama na siguro ako. Mga 20%.

Tumayo ako mula sa aming mesa at kinausap ang isang babaeng waitress.

"Hi, okay lang ba padagdag pa ng table. May darating pa kami na mga friends."

"So mag-oorder pa kayo ng isang pitcher ng margarita? O ano, isa pa..." tanong sa akin ng isa pang waiter. Yung bading na waiter na friend na namin.

Inisip ko ang perang laman pa ng aking ATM. Inisip ko na paparating ka na. Hindi naman masyadong matagal bago ako nakapag-decide.

"Okay, isa pa. Sige," sagot ko sa waiter sabay ngiti. May tama na nga siguro ako. Mga 21%.

Nag-dagdag na ng isa pang mesa yung babaeng waiter. Inayos ko ang mga upuan.

"Okay, dito siya uupo ha," sabi ko habang inaayos ang katabi kong upuan. Tinabi ko sa upuan ko nang todo hanggang magkadikit na yung dalawang upuan. Natawa na lang ako sa sarili ko.

Maya-maya dumating ka na. Una kitang nakita dahil sa puwesto ng upuan ko. Matagal-tagal na din pala simula nung huli tayong nagkita. Kinabahan ako.

So hayun umupo ka na nga. Doon sa tabi ko dahil wala na naman ibang available na puwesto. Saktong masaya lang naman ako. Kontrolado pa naman kahit na hindi pa din kita masyadong matingnan. Parang high school lang ang drama. Tinawaga ko ulit ang waiter at nagpakuha ng mga extra na baso. Serbisyong totoo lang. Dinahilan ko na since ako naman ang nag-invite, responsibilidad ko na i-entertain ka.

Tuloy ang inuman. Saktong inuman lang at hindi naman talaga masyadong nakakalasing yung mga iniinom natin. May isang beses na binara mo yung joke ko. In fairness, effective naman. Na-impress ako actually.

Maya-maya nag-aya na sila na lumipat ng ibang bar. And for the first time (in so very long) pumayag ka din na sumama pa din. Naalala ko yung mga araw dati na ilang beses kitang ininvite pero may conflict palagi. Hehehe. Ayos lang iyon. Ganun talaga.

Sumakay na tayo sa kotse at doon ako umupo sa harap. Kunyari spontaneous lang pero by sheer force of will ko kung bakit nangyari yun. Hahaha.

Umandar ang sasakyan at nagtatanong ka sa akin ng directions. Masaya ako nun. Saktong saya lang naman. Yung tipong masaya na tinatandaan ko ang bawat detalye ng mga nangyayari noon. Siguro gusto ko lang may balikan akong masayang eksena sa utak ko. Alam ko kasi na matagal-tagal na naman siguro bago kita makita ulit. Minsan natutupad din naman pala ang mga simpleng pangarap natin sa buhay.

Kumain muna sila sa Ministop. Tinanong kita at sinabi mong hindi ka naman nagugutom. Natatawa ako sa sarili ko dahil parang sugar daddy ako sa concern. Hahaha. Ganun talaga. Alam kong corny ang lahat at nakakatakot slightly. Pero ganun eh, wala na akong magagawa kung ganito ako. May something pa din talaga eh. Hindi ko yun kayang ikaila.

Maya-maya andun na tayo sa loob ng bar. Hindi tayo magkatabi. Okay lang kasi kinakabahan ako. Baka kung anong maisip kong gawin. Na-realize ko kasing ngayon lang kita na-"solo" in a way. Masaya ako. Pero kinakabahan din.

At go, todo sayawan na. At doon talaga ako na-impress sa iyo. Na ang saya mo sobra kasama kapag sayawan. Hindi ko talaga inexpect yun kasi alam ko namang hindi ka lasing. Napahanga mo ako doon. Bukod sa game kang kasama ay magaling ka din pala talagang sumayaw. Masaya ako noon dahil alam kong nag-eenjoy ka.

Minsan nga halos tumigil ako sa pagsasayaw dahil parang suryal ang mga nangyayari. Ang saya ko lang na andun ka. Ang saya ko lang na andun ang mga kaibigan natin. Na sa sobrang boring ng sembreak ko so far alam kong yung gabing iyon ang magiging highlight. At para sa akin, ikaw ang highlight ng gabing iyon.

Dumating yung time na nagsayaw tayo at tayong dalawa lang. Hindi ko alam kung ano ang iniisip mo nun. Hanga ako sa iyo dahil alam mong may something pero chill ka lang. Enjoy lang. Hindi mo ako iniiwasan or anything. May gusto sana akong sabihin. May gusto sana akong gawin. Pero isa lang akong malaking torpe pagdating sa iyo. Hindi ko talaga kaya. Hindi ako makagalaw.

Iniisip ko na wala naman sanang masama talaga pero pinapangunahan ko ang lahat. Ayoko kasing... mapasama ka. Ayoko din sigurong mapahiya. Ayoko din sigurong lumayo ka or anything. Na-trauma na ako sa ganun eh. Kaya siguro okay na 'to. Masaya na ako sa ganito.

Lumalim ang gabi (actually, ang umaga) at medyo napagod na din tayong lahat sa walang humpay na pagsasayaw. Lumalarga na ang ibang tao sa bar. Naglilibot. Kinabahan ako. Pero hiniling ko na sana hindi na maulit yung nangyari last year. Saktong isang taon na ang lumipas simula noon.

Dapat talaga nag-aya na akong umuwi dahil maya-maya nangyari na nga ang kinakatakot kong mangyari. Kinakantyawan ako ng mga kaibigan natin. Tumitingin sila sa akin habang nangyayari ang lahat at naulit na naman ang naramdaman ko noong isang taon. Ang sakit. Parang literal na kinukurot ang puso ko. Dinidikdik. Pinapaso. Bakit ba kasi kailangang mangyari ang lahat sa harapan ko di ba? Bakit?!

Hindi ko na kinaya ang lahat at lumabas ako para mag-CR. Lasing na ako. Mga 80%. Nahihilo ako at nasusuka na. Gusto ko na lang dumausdos sana sa sahig pero naka-autopilot kasi ako. Ilang minuto akong nakatulala sa CR at nakatingin lang sa inodoro. Nahihilo ako. Torpe. Tanga. Talo. Naisip kong nasa toilet bowl ang puso ko. Tapos... flush.

Bumababa na tayo at napansin kong masaya ka. Parang kinikilig ka pa nga. Pinipilit kong maging masaya din dahil masaya ka. Pero ang hirap pala, lalo na't yun ang dahilan. Bumigat bigla ang ulo ko. Buti na lang kaya ko pa ring umarte kahit konti. I'm fine. I'm fine!

Sana kasi, ano, may karapatan din akong pasayahin ka kagaya nung nagpapasaya sa iyo noong mga oras na iyon. Sana kaya ko din. Sana ang basehan na lang ay yung kung ano yung nasa loob ng puso. Sana yun na lang ang nakikita at hindi yung panlabas. Pero wala eh, hindi kasi ganun ang takbo ng mundo. Ganun talaga at hindi ko kayang labanan iyon.

Alas-sais na nang makarating ako sa kama ko. Pagkatapos ko magbihis ay derecho lugmok ako sa mga unan ko. Naiiyak ako na ewan. Pero hindi para sa iyo kundi para sa sarili ko. Kinuha ko ang fone ko at nag-text ako. Lasing pa din kasi ako kaya pasensya na kung may nasabi akong hindi dapat nasabi. Medyo wala ako sa sarili. Lasing pa ako. Mga 10%.

Nanaginip ako. Hindi ko alam kung ano nangyari exactly sa panaginip pero ang naaalala ko nandun ka. Pero paggising ko, magaan na ang pkairamdam ko. Okay na ako. Parang may na-realize ako sa panaginip ko tungkol sa atin, kahit na hindi ko na maalala kung ano yun exactly ngayon. Ang weird pero basta ganun.

Nag-reply ka. At natuwa ako dahil sa tingin ko naiintindihan mo ang nangyari. Tama lang ang sinabi mo. Tama lang talaga. Salamat sa pag-unawa.

Binaba ko ang celfone at napangiti. For the first time, may happy ending din na nangyari sa araw ko.

Letters

It was around 2 in the morning and I was sitting on my bed, unable to sleep. My lamp was on and it illuminated this box under my study table. My mother hasn't unpacked all of my things yet since I moved back to their house. I wondered if she thought I'll be moving out again any time soon.

I pulled this paper bag from the box and found in it all the sentimental stuff I've gathered over the years. There were tickets from the events I've attended (a couple from my own semender parties). There were all sorts of receipts and motel discount cards (hahaha). Bits of ribbon and an occasional oddity. And of course there were letters from my past students. And from my ex-flames.

To my surprise, I discovered that among the jumble of letters, there was one still left unopened. I carefully inspected the envelope, unbelieving,  but it really bore no trace of being opened before. I felt a surge of shame. I had a mental image of the sender, spitting fire and elbows on hips, with me wringing my hands trying to explain away why the letter was unread. How can I have ignored this letter?

So I went on with tearing the envelope carefully since it looked rather old. It was a card. A Christmas card. And it was from her.

It has been so long ago and I have almost forgotten how intense everything was at the time. Reading her letter brought me back to those times when each day felt like it could have been videotaped and aired on television. A daily dose of sweetness and drama, sprinkled with a spicy serving of recklessness but with a touch of bitterness underneath it all. I think the show would have had good ratings. If MTRCB allowed it to be aired in the first place.

Reading her letter, I can almost picture her bed beside the window providing a not-so-elegant view of KNL. That time when I was just lying on my bed, amusing myself with my "countdown", and she sits, ever so gingerly beside me. I can almost feel that unbearable tension... Of restraining myself not to... Not to... Aww never mind.

The other letters, those not in envelopes and written in random pieces of paper were from my first boyfriend. His writing was rather small and I had difficulty reading some of the words. He calls me "B". One addressed me as "B-Boi". Oh, I have almost forgotten those days. How... How it all felt...

This one, written on red paper, was from the time we got back together. "Today is Day 2" it said. "Although I really do not want to count the days anymore..."

And there was this other letter, written three days before my birthday. He was saying how sorry he was that he had no money and he couldn't treat me to dinner in a decent place. He was saying how proud he was of me, going through all the hardships which were on my shoulders at the time. He was saying how I did not need to do everything on my own. That I shouldn't forget that I have him. "I'll hold your hand when it rains," it said. "I love you," it said.

I placed the letters back where I found them and I sat on my bed for a while, just feeling the emptiness of my bed beside me. I can hear the ticking of my small alarm clock on my table. I can hear the clucking sound of a lizard on the ceiling. But my phone was uncharacteristically silent. It has been that way for weeks now.

I lay down on my bed and realized that, with the way things are in my love life right now, I wouldn't have remembered how colorful it all used to be if those letters were not addressed to me. That that guy they were talking to... That used to be me.

Strange, I thought. And shrugged the notion off my mind by immersing myself in a book.

The sun was well up before sleep finally deigned to end my painless misery.

Where Dead Flowers Go

The sun was extra bright that morning, I remember. There was a comfortable pre-Christmas breeze and I had a smile on. People were greeting me left and right as I walked briskly towards the Chem building. I was running late but I did not care. It was my birthday.

The security guard on duty that morning had a ready smile for me as well, to my mild surprise. I was about to greet her back when she handed me this package. It was a long and thin white box with "Flowers Express" on the outside. "Happy B-day" the card with it said. I smiled. It came from D.

***

The sun was extra bright that morning, I remember. We were walking along the oval and sunlight was streaming through the gaps of the branches of the trees overhead. The university was already bustling, but it was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil going on between us at the time.

We found a spot under one of the trees and we sat facing the wide expanse of Sunken Garden. There was an uncomfortable silence. It wasn't easy to start a conversation about breaking up. I brought out my Walkman fone and had him listen to Avril Lavigne's "Tomorrow".

"Do you love him?" he asked.

"No," I replied. "How can I love him? I barely know him."

"But..." I added. "I like him. Better than I like you."

After a while, we stood and prepared to leave. I had never seen him so... violent. He kept banging his bag on the lamp posts along the sidewalk and I was actually afraid the policemen walking by will take notice.

We hailed an Ikot jeepney and we sat in front beside the driver. He got off at NCPAG without saying goodbye. I looked back and saw him running. Running away from me even as the jeepney was already taking me away.

***

It has been years since D and I broke up, and I honestly have no news about him whatsoever. I tried to meet him, during the brief period when I was dating no one. But he kept on cancelling and delaying. Days stretched into months and I just had to drop it. I may have been rash. I may have been overly emotional. But I had to save what was left of my pride. If he wanted to see me, he would have made an effort. I was only asking for an hour or two and he couldn't even find that for me. What more if I asked to be with him for the rest of my life?

I had this dream about him yesterday. We were talking. He said he was with someone new and that he was hoping his new guy will be the one he will be with for the rest of his life.

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was nothing but a dream. I should have been comforted by that. But the pain the dream caused... That pain is real nonetheless.

***

Dreams. They're like virtual reality machines. They show us, creatively, the things we've been hiding to everyone and to ourselves. Dreams are traitors. Once you thought you've already effectively erased someone's memories, dreams will dredge them up back to hound you.

The Path to Wisdom

DISCLAIMER:
Forgive me for (once again) being self-indulgent and egocentric, but what I want my reader to understand is that I've been spending the last seven years of my life in filling up the gaps and holes in my life. I cannot move forward without looking back at my past. I suppose many of you are lucky to have survived through your adolescent years with your ego intact, or you may have the talent of multi-tasking, getting to know who you are while achieving something longer-lasting. But I am not as fortunate as you are when it comes to these things. One-track heart. One-track mind.

***

These past few nights, I've spent idle hours lying on my bed, tossing and turning. My sembreak has technically begun, and it has left me with some free time I've been sorely lacking since I began teaching in my new school. My laptop has been deemed beyond repair (I'm now back to renting), and it significantly cut off the many possible ways I could have whittled away this dead time in my hands. But beyond that inactivity, there was this even more massive force which drove me away from my bed and my books, my smokes, and my mp3 player - the need to blog.

My life wasn't exactly at a standstill all these weeks I've kept quiet here in my blog. On the contrary, too many things have happened, and I am actually overwhelmed, choosing which event to write about. My mind has been racing all this time away from the keyboard, trying to sift through all the experiences I've managed to mangle myself into, and selecting which ones to cast perpetually in the amber of cyberspace. I actually have a headache right now. Whether it was caused by too much thinking or something less psychological is still debatable.

As might be expected (if there's anyone at all who is interested in what I have to say), I've been spending most of my free time thinking about... life. I don't really understand why I am so obsessed with this, and I don't understand why not everyone is into it either. See, I am doing it again. I am trying to understand why I want to understand.

Anyway, the loss of my laptop has made me realize something important about myself. Deprivation has always been one of the effective means for me to learn the value of things and this time, I realized that what I miss the most among the many capabilities my laptop gave me is my virtual voice. In Facebook, yes, but this blog above all.

I suppose mediocrity and insignificance are two of the major fears which have shaped my life recently. The former, I can deal with without exerting too much effort (I'm not being cocky, it's a plain statement of fact), but to maintain the latter, I need a platform. I need a voice. One can hardly consider someone significant when one stands for nothing and says nothing, right?

It makes me afraid sometimes, realizing this need and learning about why I want to teach in the first place. Is it really because I enjoy teaching per se or maybe because it gives me an opportunity to air my views? Am I really that noble or am I just enjoying the chance to influence others to my way of thinking?

I think all these musings give me enough clues as to where I want my life to be heading in the coming years. I  need a platform. I need an audience. And above all, I need to make a change. I need to make people aware of the things they may have forgotten.

Only a few days left before I turn 27 (it's so scary to approach 30) and as is often the case, one's birthday is the perfect opportunity to reassess what one has accomplished. I have no significant financial investments. My career is at a roadblock. My health (with my smoking) may have gone worse and I do not even want to dwell on my sorry physical attributes. I am almost 27 and what have I to show? Where are the groundbreaking achievements I used to expect from myself?

I really don't know if I'm only making excuses for my failures but if I were to answer that last question, I'd say that my biggest achievement is that I've set my path to wisdom. Not the mere acquisition of material things. Not the directionless accumulation of knowledge. Not the manipulative thirst for control, power, and domination. But understanding.

Seven years of working and I have nothing to show.

But at least, I have something to say.

And with laptop or no laptop, I know that I will continue on this self-imposed advocacy. For once, I've identified something which drives me. And I am going to use this to point me to where the world really wants me to be.

***

P. S.
You know reader, I have fancies of being remembered for a very long time. One of my wildest fantasies is this blog and my other written works being dissected and discussed inside a classroom. Right now, of course, I am not worthy of that. But maybe in the future. Who knows? I just love challenges.

What the Snowflake Tattoo Means

It was past 10 in the evening as I walked on the pedestrian pathway on top of the still bustling EDSA. I hardly noticed the sounds of the street and I paid only half a mind to where I was going. I felt like I was floating as my mind settled on the numbness which has occupied my heart lately. I wasn't happy but I wasn't sad. I simply felt... nothing.

People passed me by and I passed by them. All kinds of people they were. All kinds of strangers and I felt nothing for them. No kinship. No interest and no sympathy. Not even desire for the better looking ones.

The night was black and so were the clouds in my head. Thoughts were swirling (they always were) but I left them unformed. All I knew is that I have to keep moving forward. For once, I have a direction. I have a target. And nothing must stand in my way. Not even love.

"What is that?" I asked myself. I am on the point of forgetting. Vague memories of intense emotions but I couldn't recall them any longer. People used to scold me for letting love take the reins of my life so I learned to live without it. And I learned very well. I excelled in the task I've set for myself. Now I don't need love any longer. I don't have room for it in my life anymore.

I'm a drifter now. I don't let myself linger in any one state. I must keep moving forward. Always to the next lesson. Always to the next higher level. I have a target and I need to focus.

The sky was black and beyond the clouds there must have been stars but I got myself blinded by the city lights. I can't see them any longer and I do not even bother. Like a bubble rising through the bog, a memory of innocence floated to my mind. A memory of chasing dreams and of wonderful fantasies. Memories of who I used to be. So much has changed, I thought. I lost who I was yet there was not a shred of regret I can dig from the remnants of my so-called soul.

The buses honked and the neon signs flashed. My mind floated and my heart succumbed to the coldness. This, then, is what death must feel like.