LOVE VERSUS POLITICS Wendy S. Verdadero

The stabbing heat of the sun was painfully scorching through my flesh. The dusty air had been blurring everything so nothing could be seen clearly. The crowd’s bellows ware penetrating through my ears. And now, my crocodiles have been complaining with my fully-emptied stomach. For the nth time, I gazed at the placard which I blamed responsible for this whole thing. It reads: PABAGSAKIN!!

I was unfortunately born in a place where people think more stupid than a fool; on times when people trust tinhorn politicians; elites has the authority, poor people enjoys ppoverty. Too nonsense, aren’t we?

In the place where I grew, wrong deeds are made up with much wrong doings. Good deeds are kept in secrecy, while those which are made neither with heart nor acuity are being bragged about. Most of the people don’t have a heart for those who are being abused. Money is loved while people are being foolishly used. Filthy politicians are washing their hands while those who are really genuine are being blamed with their leader’s faults.

I grew up in a place where it is normal to walk barefoot. It is normal to see nude children scattered on the roads. It is normal not to eat three times a day; to not study when we badly needed to. Even broken future has become a norm. What used to be abnormal to a lot of people seemed to be normal with us.

Are you still wondering why I am here now? Holding this numb placard while deliberately enjoying the stabbing heat of the sun? I also wonder why—in my half emptied brain—I still can’t see myself complaining with the martyrdom I am willingly suffering. Idiot, I told myself.

Regretting why I have involved myself with such a dumb society must be of no help for me. Hating the Philippines is much more like hating myself.

“Are we not going home yet?” Carlo whispered. His voice brought me back to my senses. I looked around: same place, same old nagging faces. I found myself sharing bellows again with the crowd; holding placards and roaming around town, ignoring the heat of the sun. The dusty air have grown an inch over our heads, our bodies exhausted, our minds poisoned of hunger, our pockets emptied with none.

Have we been out for too long now?” I asked back.

“It’s already past six.”

“Well, let’s go then. Let’s just get back early tomorrow.”

“What did you just say?” I heard sarcasm rather than a question in his voice. He must be too tired, I told myself. I shut my mouth up. I know Carlo heard me and I won ‘t be too generous to repeat for him what I have just said.

“Tell me now Miguel. Have you been fooled like these people?!” There he goes again with his traditional ‘litany.’ I heard him alright, but I’m too exhausted to listen so I did not pay too much attention with him.

Since birth, I have been taught that Philippines have already had its own freedom. You are free to express yourself—in writing, public speaking, among others. It is with the way you would not degrade your fellowmen. Freedom? Oh c’mon! There are people who are afraid to speak. Those who remain valiant have been hacked to death. Why would you not be afraid? Should the letters you’ll write will cause you death, would you not be aghast? Should the voice you express will trigger threats, would you be still brave enough to speak? Should the wage of your still undefined democracy will be your safety, you better forget all about it. Nevertheless, I still won’t buy practicality—the sense of letting the government work idiotly with your future, and steal your freedom.

“We must go now,” I told Carlo. He just disapprovingly walked behind me.

“We don’t actually have to do this, Miguel,” he said.

“Do what?” I asked, vexed.

“These—you know, the rally stuff. We don’t have to fight for our rights this way. Why, we should not put our people’s lives at stake, you know. We would still have other plans than rallying here and gambling our lives.”

“And so we’ll shut up? We’ll be tamed and just ignore these political dumbness around? What about us now, Carlo? We’ll let these braggart leaders manipulate us?! They would implement laws so they would earn more. While we have scarcities in employment, laborers are rapidly doubled—making a lot of families at stake. There would be a lot of VAT increases—among other taxes—and a lot of price hikes, while we can’t even have a pint of salary increase!! And then what are we? They have been cheating us but we are subsequently behind them all the way!”

“It this whole process of fighting for that so-called freedom will require innocent lives as sacrificial lambs, we better think not just twice. After all, it’s not just the leaders that should be blamed here. It’s our faults as well. We put them in the position to manipulate us.”

“That’s exactly the reason why we’re here, isn’t it Carlo? We have been vexed with reality! We have learned to fight for our rights!”

“Do you think that would solve the problem?”

“Are we going to be silent forever? They would surely do everything they want. They would be superb. Then we, baffling Filipinos will remain stagnant. We cannot do anything inasmuch as we can’t dispute our holy leaders! The point here is that, to tell you, Juan Carlo Concepcion, we are here to make them let go of their position. What we need is an unselfish and strong leader.”

“And then what? After the president resigned, the VP will take charge of his position. And if the new president made a decision that doesn’t meet your expectations, what? You’ll want him impeached again? It’s a never ending cycle, Miguel Tuazon. There’s never going to be a good leader in the eyes of the critics.”

We never cared about anything. We just want justice. We just want to have what used to be ours. Who can blame us? Especially me? People on my place used to curse each other for food. Children are forced to labor; parents’ common hobby is to multiply the population. People at early twenties sell themselves to worldly businessperson, politicians, or whoever that can buy them at high price. It’s been a filthy town I grew with. As other’s would say, ‘basura’.

The point is, I just prayed for changes. I just prayed that maybe, somehow, we can still live the life we all wanted—the life that the government had been spitting with their holy tongues.

I tried to speak up to depend myself but words seemed to be difficult to control. They all run out of me.

“Bravery hasn’t always done us good, Miguel. Think about it. Sometimes, it is better to contemplate where the stream will lead you before you entrust yourself to be carried away by the current.”

I remained silent. I was contemplating everything he said, and I realized—yes. Perhaps, Carlo’s right. Maybe I’m just pretending to be strong. I must be too weak—too afraid for another loss.

It took us almost an hour to reach Carlo’s house. It’s almost past seven.

“Would you not stop by first?” he asked me.

“I would’ve want to, but—”

“C’mon! Paula has just arrived yesterday. She would be glad to see a childhood best friend, you know,” he insisted.

Paula? Ah, yes. As what Carlo says, Paula and I were best of friends. We think almost the same way. We understand each other. We share almost the same points of view about almost every issue that has been raised. We have always been mistaken to be having some love affair. I just laugh at it since we have been treating each other as brothers and sisters.

We haven’t seen each other for quite long years now. She pursued her studies in Manila. She said it’s better to study there. You will have a better view of the Philippines. I don’t actually believe with her reasons, but I neither have myself in contrast with her. Why not? Who would ever choose a place filthy enough for you to curse it? Who would ever be stupid enough to imprison himself in a place where you will be hoping for a vague future? Who would ever be too heroic to rather choose this place of nonsensical folks?

“Wel, let’s go then,” I said.

In their threshold Paula saw me and meet me by their front gate. I was stunned with her beauty. She’s still as beautiful as she was four years ago. She remained gleeful. Manila really can’t change her, I told myself.

“Miguel!” I was shocked when she suddenly hugged me. I just laughed and hugged her straight away. “Come in, come in!” she said excitedly.

I went inside timidly. I looked around as if it was my first time to enter their house—which had almost been my house. I tried to speak to her but it’s weird—I can’t open a conversation with her.

“How’s Manila? How’re your studies?” I asked absent-mindedly.

“Great as it is. Its still pregnant with rotting systems. I had been expelled out of the university twice by our university president. I was also tried to be dismissed thrice. But look, I am still here!” she answered with sarcasm.

“Why? What have you done to make your president too resentful with you?”

“I was the one who discovered that the administration was corrupt. They impetuously resort student funds and make the students pay for more.”

“It’s a good thing you’re stil alive!” I jested.

“They impended of killing me if I’ll speak up. I just poke fun at them. I was not afraid to die, I told them. I would be much afraid should my conscience bother me if I’ll just put what I know under my feet.”

“Bow to that.” I have nothing more to say.

“As yet they even say no one would listen to me. My fellow students would be afraid to listen; the professors would not believe me; media would surely just mock me. They say no one would believe me for I have not the authority to lead them around.” In her voice, I could feel bitterness in Paula’s laments. Well, who could blame her? I can’t blame her anyways.

“Then, what have you done?”

“Why, I have slammed every door in every department and colleges in the university. I perturbed all the student activists. The opposition came out of their caves! My professor then gave me a failing grade. And so they gave me a good reason to inveigh them. Bribe of course, that it did not came out to the media.”

Manila cannot be strong enough to tame soemone like Paula Conception. I guess I don’t need any other proof for that.

“What about you Miguel, how are you? I had been away too long. I haven’t heard anything about you for almost four years now.”

“Well, we still share some things in common—I am still an activist and I suffer the same problem as you do. I was dismissed and given a failing grade twice. I kicked our president out of the administration. It so happened that my holy professor was under our president’s shadow. There he is, steamed with the systems!”

“Systems! This system of self interests really breeds corrupt leaders. Whosoever has contacts with the sovereignty was being prioritized; being warded. If you know no one in the jurisdiction, you’re loss. How pitiful it is to live in such a wanton society!”

“Perhaps, we should also blame the leaders in that sense, Paula. Why, leaders work with their own system. If a leader is sensible, systems would inevitably be sensible too. Only those leaders are always venal; more often than not, leaders think of self interests, that’s why systems are more often putrid.”

“I think we must also blame ourselves. It’s our fault. We can easily be compensated with money. We bow for them as they come across us—without even knowing that the small change they price for us don’t even reach the bottom of their purse.”

“You can’t blame the people, Paula. It’s hard to make a living nowadays. This small amount means a lot for those people who don’t even have a coin.”

“You say so.”

“Well, it’s now normal with us, people. Bribery. Systems. Corrupt leaders. Is there any politician who’s yet no to use power during the polls? Is there anyone who still does not accept vote buying in their systems? If there could only be a leader—even just one—who thinks not of self interests, who is not filthy, who is not pervert and not corrupt… he must surely be not a Filipino!”

We both laughed.

They invited me for dinner that night. That’s not new. My parents migrated to Canada six years ago while I decided to live here alone. Carlo and Paula’s parents died of car accident a couple of years ago so we’ve been treating each others as family.

“Miguel, Kuya told me you don’t have a girlfriend yet?” she asked seriously. I nearly choked and I found no words to say. I knew enough Paula’s serious—I just don’t know how to answer her seriously.

“Ha? Ah… s-sort of…” I answered uncertainly. She seemed more shocked than I was. “I haven’t thought of that yet. I’m still too young, see?” I said—and I opt to say, I am pleading secretly for them to believe me.

Unfortunately with me, they were not inveigled with what I have said. Paula raised an eyebrow while Carlo was grinning widely.

I was busy thinking of a way out of that conversation when Paula spoke.

“Love is just like politics, you know. It disregards time, it does not care of the season, it wasn’t aware of the era. Love is love. It has been talked anytime three times a day—just like politics,” I heard her mouthed.

“But then just like in politics, people won’t talk about a certain issue especially when they don’t know anything about it,” I interrupted.

“Waiting for someone to teach you about the issues you don’t know is such a big waste of time—nothings’ going to happen to you, for sure. You should seek for things yourself and learn from them. Try to explore.”

“Not everybody is quite bold enough to talk ‘bout issues they aren’t prepared enough to talk with. Just like in politics—timeliness still counts sometimes, you know.”

Paula had shut her mouth up just when I have nothing more to say. Maybe she felt I was obviously keeping out of the way.

No one talked until we finished eating. Carlo and I walked to the veranda. I noticed he was serious, but I didn.t try asking him about that.

Carlo opened up the topic Paula had started. “Realy, you have grown up as a man now, my little brother Miguel,” he smiled to me calmly. “I remembered when you were just a child—a rascal you are, you remember?” he remained smiling.

“What are you trying to say?” I asked.

“I knew enough what you’re going through, Miguel. You see, I have been through all that before.”

I laughed huskily. This man really knew too much of me.

“Honest, Carlo… I still don’t know. I feel like things won’t be the same if I let people know what I have been going through.”

“You always take risks for your principles. Don’t you think it’s about time that you risk things for yoiurself?”

“I don’t think so.” I sighed.

I know Carlo was staring at eme but I did not try loking at him. I’m afraid that he might find out I have just been a liar.

“I thought you’re brave,” Carlo intervened with my thoughts. There was sarcasm in his voice. He was almost scorning me. I thought you’re brave. It was echoing in my mind. It was penetrating through my whole system.

“You might try to close your eyes Miguel, or even your mind to not understand and look at things without prejudice. But things really happen this way, you know? You see, things really go beyond your control.” He again started with his laments. “It’s a social norm. It flows with your blood, with the polluted air you breathe, with all the noise you make. It is as normal as the people cursing the administration, as the administration corrupting with impunity, as the impunity that has been an exemption to the corrupt men in the society. You have already wakened up Miguel. Would you go back to your bed and turn your back to the rising sun?”I let go of another sigh. Why is it that I always find no words to say when talking about this aspect of life?

I found no words to utter in the moment. He’s right—he had always been right. I laughed again hoarsely. Why would I speak up anyway? I knew enough I could not win with Carlo.

“I’l go ahead,” I said. I know that staying away friom Carlo is my last resort. He laughed coarsely. Repeatedly. It’s rhythm was perfectly echoing in my ears. As if it was saying something. Enticing my being. Aluring my soul.

As soon as I get home, I went straight to the bathroom. I took a long bath. The water from the shower was cold—it was biting deeply against my body—but not cold enough to wash away all the stress I have encountered the whole day; the sting of the scorching sun which still pierce my whole body; my grudge with the government; the fear… and all the principles I have been idiotly deceiving myself with.

After my long bath, I slumped myself in my bed. I contemplated over the reasons of my disgust with life.

I have slept over my thoughts. The sun was already up when I wake up the next morning. I went to my bathroom and again drowned myself with my century long bath. The water was still cold as ever. It still stings against my body—as if trying to give me comfort because he knows I badly needed to be comforted. But not again… it wasn’t cold enough for me to forget everything—and to ignore the call of my conscience. Taking this long bath for me is a ritual. It makes me feel the euphoria of being temporarily comforted—just to be neglected forever.

I was half-surprised to see Carlo lying on my bed as I went out of my bathroom.

“I think I know what made you went here this early,” I said.

“I have always been telling you this Miguel—I know you. I know you’d be going back.” He was, again, full of sarcasm.

Silence again solaced between us. There was an earsplitting silence slumbering in our midst. For a moment, neither of us wanted to talk. We seemed out of our consciousness—totally unaware of each other. I just stared blankly at him. I don’t have plans of being suppressed after all.

“Please don’t go back.” Now he was pleading—as if he was a friend stopping a soldier to continue a battle. The sarcasm in his voice just a while ago was replaced by humility, into submission.

“I am not asking you to go with me Carlo!” I said with much disgust.

He remained silent and it suddenly made me feel uneasy. For the first time since we started joining the rally, I felt the need of hearing him speak.

“C-carlo… I-I’m… so—” I hesitated. He just smiled at me and then he started talking.

“When you know someone you care for is in trouble, would you just sit there and watch him until he call you for help? When someone close to your heart needs rescuing, would you not try to do something to rescue him because he hadn’t asked you yet?”

He paused for a moment and stared directly at me. He was like searching something from inside of me. When he felt I have no words to say, he continued speaking.

“No, Miguel. It’s not like that. Even when he has not asked for your help, you would help him because you care for him. Even if he has not called you yet for rescuing, you would still be there because you love him. And even when he said he does not need you, you would stay with him because deep inside, you know that he needs too much of you, and your presence is enough to make him feel better; because you know there are things that he is incapable of doing alone.” He smiled again. I was speechless. “That’s love. Miguel,” he added.

He must be right. Everything has its limitations. Sometimes, I wonder why things have to meet their consequence of being bound. Maybe, I thought, because we have to realize that we are just human beings—we are still tied to making mistakes and looking for someone who would help us be corrected. It is in our nature as human beings to commit mistakes, and to admit it’s our fault. After all, people are still bound of seeking help from other people, or even from within himself. Maybe, Carlo’s right. It’s really better to be lost anywhere in this world where you can ask for directions back, than to be lost inside your soul where redemption lies in you hands alone.

There was a total blankness surrounding the room, and we are in total darkness—so does my mind.

“I was just concerned with the people; with our country that has been subjugated for so long; I am just too concerned of—”

“Why don’t you try to be concerned of yourself?”

“Shall I think of myself first? Will I pass off our country’s cargo’s if I’ll think of my own?!” I asked him sarcastically.

Again we are encompassed with severe silence. It’s shrilling—as if it is upbraiding my whole personality. The silence which makes me listen more to the euphony of the news of my early death. The silence whose eyes were biting my flesh—as if I were a criminal sentenced to die.

“You know, Miguel, you can’t hide with your pretending to be brave the truth of what you are going through right now.”

“What are you saying?”

“Why, I’m saying that you were afraid of facing the truth—of facing the reality you have been looking for your entire life; that you were just pretending to be strong when in fact, you have been too weak to conquer your problems alone. You were afraid that the society you have damned will soon hate you too!” My system can’t practically accept what he says not because it’s not true but because it’s true enough that it disgusts me too much. I haven’t spoken for quite long time. I know any moment then that my tears will fall freely from me.

“You don’t actually have to suppress whatever it is that’s bugging you right now, you know,” he said.

“Haven’t you told me things have their limitations?” I said softly.

“Are we still talking about politics here, Miguel?” he sounds still calm but firm.

“Is it only in politics that we talk about limitations, Carlo? Well, I guess not! Life has limitations. Love has limitations. And I have my own limitations!”

“So you’re going to keep that with yourself?”

“I see no reason not to.”

“Is that what you cal democracy? Is that your definition of freedom?”

I tried so hard to laugh with what he said, but the bite of reality stings harder. Its fangs pricks deeper than I thought it would—the reality which slaps on my face—as if it was waking me up from my century long sleep; as if it was forcing me to face what has to be faced and to talk what has to be talked about.

I really do not want to be selfish, but then… selflessness is beyond me.

I haven’t realized my tears were flowing freely from me. I tried to wipe my tears before Carlo could see it, but he did saw me crying.

“So that’s what you cal bravery? Hiding behind your mask?” His voice was full of mockery. He was again scourging me.

For the nth time, Carlo has managed to shut my stubborn mouth up. My tears continued to flow emancipated. There was no vain in me to refuse my tears to feel the freedom I long wanted to taste. I did no even try hiding it from Carlo. I can’t really go too far from what I know just to playact strong. I can’t anymore pretend to fill up the cracks of reality—the reality which now burn my soul; the reality whose voice was even louder than the call of my conscience; the reality who breaks the principles I long have believed. I can’t defer the dismay reigning within me. I am weak, and so what? And yes, I can’t really face the bite of reality… and of life… and of love—alone.

“I don’t ever want to be selfish Carlo.” I was now fighting myself with my silenced hysteria.

“Living with the way you want to live your life has never been called selfishness Miguel—selfishness is when you let people manipulate you and when you let them teach you how to live against your convictions,” he said sympathetically. “Live your life and think of not what people would say, but of what your heart tells you to. Life is life, as I tell you, and it really goes beyond our control.”

In an instant my tears were racing down my cheeks. It was cascading through my eyes freely. I can’t really explain what I felt at that moment. It’s like I was talking to someone I never know, but knew me well enough. It was like I finally went out of the box I long have stayed on. I can’t wear the mask that has been bared to the crowd I long have deceived. It seemed hard for me to hide the feelings I long have suppressed.

“I don’t understand,” I said as my tears flow continuously.

“Maybe not now.” I felt grasp of understanding in his voice. Again, we were enveloped into silence. I don’t know how to escape from being imprisoned in that dungeon of quietness murdering my whole being. I felt hopeless.

“Give yourself freedom, Miguel. You were fighting for freedom yourself for the crowd, for the retinue, for the country that has been damned. I think, you should as well think of giving yourself the freedom you have been fighting for.”

Carlo was gone but I was still crying hysterically. My tears flow continuously, savoring their newly found democracy. My emotions were brimming over the freedom from the scenery of mendacity. I never thought pretending to be strong could be this tiring. It is even more tiring to pretend than to be part of the rallying crowd.

I felt as if my problems were even larger than what the country faces right now. How I wish it has been a political issue—that I could rally if I can’t accept the principles and systems they implement. I wish I could refuse love just the way how I refuse the ideology that politics had been teaching its people. Oh… and how I wish love to be like politics—you can talk about it wherever you want because you just love talking about it. How I wish admitting how and what you feel is as easy as talking about the hottest political issue ever raised—and whatever you will say will be heard and respected, because we have our different points of view… I really wish everything could be done politicaly.

I heard three loud knocks downstairs. I knew its Paula. Maybe she and Carlo have talked already. But… now I’m ready.

I rise and went downstairs. I know I needed only one at the moment: someone who could understand what I am idiotly going through, someone who’ll accept me… and the reality reigning in me. Carlo’s right. It’s harder to transcend the boundaries of truth than to go beyond the boundaries of gender. (Mas mahirap lampas an ang hangganan ng katotohanan kaysa lampas an ang hangganan ng kasarian.)

I let go of a sigh before I opened the door. An image of someone has formed in my mind. Nakatingin sakin… nakangiti—si Carlo. ©

guide me:)

we've got an activity in one of our subjects, Guidance and Counseling.
when a classmate of mine was asked about a favorite flower, he immediate answered 'rose', and then a follow up question was again asked: why? he said he had given the flower to a special someone. curiosity arouse with our classmates then asked him again: who? he laughed and stared directly to me and said,"ask her." blushing, they all looked at me and asked, "had he given you a flower before?" i said i don't know. he said, yes, i did.

lang ya.
di ko maalala na binigyan nia ko ng flowers!!
haha:))
yun lang",)

AN OPEN LETTER FOR YOU, WITH LOVE

dear YOU,
i am too tired of calling you kuya. i feel so awkward each time
i have to call you kuya just to end our topics about ourselves.
it seems too awkward everytime i say, "tumigil na ka kuya rex!"
just to stop you from saying you love me.

i have been too tired of pretending i don't care. i am too tired of acting as if i am not bothered with your existence when in fact, i am too affected when you're not around. i am too tired of forcing myself that what we have is not for real. that you don't really love me. i am too tired of making myself believe that there is nothing going on between us.

I knew enough how much you have loved me.. and i know as well that you're still loving me in silence... that we are still in love with each other, silently. i have been too afraid that if we came to love each other, what we have wont work that way it is before..

i am too tired of trying to not to admit that i love you.. of just trying not to love you. when in fact... i am actually here... drowned with you. too in loved.

i hope we can still work it out.

i hope i am still not too late...

love,

wendi

BUKAS PA

May mga pagkakataon sa buhay ng tao na hindi na nya alam kung ano nga ba taaga ang makapagpapasaya sa kanya. Pamilya? Kaibigan? Minamahal??
Marami akong tanong sa mundo. Ang ilan sa mga yun, hanggang ngayon hindi ko pa nahahanapan ng kasagutan. Minsan naiinis ako sa sarili ko. Madalas kasing mahanapan ko ang sagot sa mga tanong ko pero hindi ko yun pinpansin—dahil iba ang sagot na hinihintay ko.
Tulad ngayon. Ilang ulit ko na bang tinanong kung totoo nga bang mahal nya ko?? Oo. At ilang beses ko na ring nasagot ang tanong na yun. Mahal nya nga ako.
Gusto kong maging masaya. Gusto kong ipagdiwang yung araw na nalaman kong mahal nya nga ako talaga. Ano pa nga ba ang mas sasaya pa—nalaman mong mahal ka rin ng taong mahal mo… nalaman mo na higit pa sa pag-aalala mo sa kanya ang pag-aalala nya sayo.. na ipinangako nya na sayo lang sya… may mas sasaya pa nga ba dun? Sa tingin ko kasi wala na. Mahal ko sya. Sobrang mahal nya ‘ko… masaya diba?
Oo. Masaya nga sana. Pero… iba nga yata talaga yung takbo ng utak ko. antagal kong hinitay yung pagkakataong to—na malamang mahal nya rin ako. Tapos nung nandito na, bigla ko naman syang tinalikuran. Ewan. Natatakot kasi ako na baka kapag binigyang pansin ko yung namumuong pagtitinginan saming dalawa, baka magkailangan lang kami. Yung tipong—pag nagsawa na kami sa isa’t isa eh bigla nalang kaming magkakalimutan? Natatakot ako. Ayokong mawala sya sakin… kaya ko tinalikuran nalang ang pagkakataong mas mapalapit pa sa kanya.
Siguro, kung ibang tao lang ako, I will be pleased to grab the opportunity of having him as mine… pero hindi eh. Hindi ko gawain yun. Ewan ko nga ba—ayokong magkakaroon ng kahit konting feelings para sakin yung taong mahal ko. Wala lang. Ayoko kasing I take for granted lang ako. Haay.
Aaminin ko, nung una masaya talaga ako. Sobrang masaya. Panong hindi? Nung hindi pa kami seryoso sa mga nararamdaman namin, (nagbibiruan lang kasi kami nung una) halos buong maghapon na magkasama kami. Magkahawak ng kamay. Sobrang sweet. Sabi nga nila, relasyon nalang daw ang kulang saming dalawa. I guess that would be it. Ayoko kasi nang commitment. Umabot pa kami sa puntong nagsasabihan kami ng MAHAL KITA kahit wala naman kaning relasyon. Para kaming mga bata noon. Walang pakialam sa mga taong nakapaligid samin—ang alam lang namin, masaya kami pag magkasama. Masaya sana… kung hindi lang ako natauhan. Kung hindi ko lang sana naisip na kahit sobrang mahal na namin ang isa’t isa, may limitasyon parin kami—after all, wala naman kaming relasyon. Hindi parin maganda na kahit mahal namin ang isa’t isa eh daig pa namin ang magkasintahan.
Tama. Ako nga ang unang tumapos sa kwentong akala ko eh wala nang katapusan. Inisip ko noon, habang buhay na akong magiging masaya. Hindi pala. Lahat talaga may hangganan.
Sa ngayon… mahal ko parin sya. Siguro… mahal nya parin ako. Pero hindi na kami tulad ng dati. Hindi na ako masyadong lumalapit sa kanya. Umiwas ako. Hindi lang sya ang nakapansin na iniiwasan ko na sya—lahat. Napansin ng mga classmate namin na hindi na nga kami tulad ng dati. Lagi nila akong tinatanong. Hindi ko naman alam kung anong isasagot ko. Hindi ko naman pwedeng sabihin na—ayoko na sa kanya. Hindi parin naman ako sinungaling kahit papano.
Ayokong pangunahan ang sitwasyon—lalo ngayon na magulo para sakin ang lahat. Pilit ko parin kasing itinatali ang sarili ko sa aninong ginawa ko noong high school pa ako. Tinapos ko na yun. Pinutol ko na ang kung anumang mag-uugnay saming dalawa—na dapat eh noon ko pa ginawa.. Kailangan pa ng isang RR para lang magawa ko yun.. well… salamat narin… magiging masaya naman siguro ako… bukas…

RANDOM

-- minsan,may mga bagay sa buhay na kahit hindi mo makuha, makita mo lang masaya ka na.

-- hindi naman kailangan ng maraming tao para bumuo ka ng mundo. minsan, isang tao lang ang kailangan mo, buo na ang mundong pinapangarap mo habangbuhay.

-- hindi lahat ng iniisip mong tama ay tama nga. at hindi lahat ng hindi mali eh tama na. minsan, kailangan mong manahimik para hindi magmukhang tanga.

-- walang taong perpekto. pero hindi dahilan yun para gawin mo lahat ng pagkakamaling pwede mo namang gawing tama.

-- hindi dahil natututo tayo sa mga pagkakamali natin, ibig sabihin ay hindi na tayo dapat gumawa ng tama.

-- i wonder how people ask for changes in our country, yet they can't even put tiny candy wrappers in the trashcan.

-- we must know our limits. we are all something, but none of us are everything.

-- don't blame life for being worse. admit to yourself that you must have done something to let it be like that.

HENRY

You have embedded yourself in silence
Just like the growling wind of December crest
In a cold, blue winter eve.
You have drowned yourself in the sea of secrets
Of untold stories and unsaid promises
Then suddenly, you leave….

You are now in the pinnacle of knowing yourself
Of introducing the art of waiting to eternity
As you introduce eternity to me…
Now…you have lost the courage to believe
In the process of embedding yourself in silence
As you managed to know yourself

I knew you
You have lost yourself in the process of wanting to know me
You see? Life can’t be easy, as we learn about its irony
Silenced had broke itself, letting you go.
But, guess it’s too late.
Silence has you…
Down there.

VAGUE

You have been silenced by the clamors of your thoughts
You have enveloped your ideas and powerful words
You once showed me democracy
All that’s left now is this stabbing reality

You are once an explorer of minds
You once taught me to walk through miles
Now, everything turned out to be just fantasy
Changes stays, and so I condemn the promise of eternity

Time continues to run out
As you continued running out of time
Now—you leave me with no doubt
I could never call you mine…