shet. tae. wala na. last na ‘to.
pagkatapos mong ihampas, ilampaso, apak-apakan, sipa-sipain, pisil-pisilin, kurot-kurutin, durugin, basagin, at wasakin ang puso ko, alam kong hindi na ‘to maayos pa. kahit na ilang mighty bond ang ipandikit dito, hindi na ‘to mabubuo ulit. kawawa naman ako. ‘langya.
shet ang korni, pero pramis, wala na ang puso ko. sira na. wala na. haha, sori na lang sa iba.
err… i forgot what i was going to write about. damn my radiation-induced brain cells, always malfunctioning. (i promise to never watch tv again - ouch, my brain cells just kicked me. okay, okay, forget it.) anyways, i’m going to write about what i was not going to write about instead - the unknown.
i wouldn’t have possibly known the unknown until once upon a timeless dream, i stepped into a black hole. the whole un-experience aroused me to the max. i saw everything going so fast yet i felt it in slow-mo. the matrix was nothing compared to the unknown. now how?
how could i have known the unknown without knowing it? is there sucha thing as the known unknown? it couldn’t be the unknown if i know about it. knowing the unknown is as confusing as a confused Confucius.
here is my huge little secret: everyone knows the unknown, yet do not know what is known. but not everyone has been to the unknown. knowing the unknown and experiencing the unknown is totally not the same. and knowing all the known is impossible. hence, we know the unknown. y’know?
usually, people fear the unknown. but what is there to fear? not knowing is scary. really scary. scarier than needles in your pupil. but everyone knows the unknown. everyone knows. there’s nothing to fear then, as long as we know the unknown.
well, i let the unknown fuck me in ways i couldn’t have possibly known without knowing the unknown because fucking is all you could ever think of. the unknown fucked my brain cells (lazy bastards!), fucked my heart, and even finger-fucked my fingers. i mutated into a wicker, weaker being.
a-ha! typing all these fuck words made me remember what i was supposed to write in this post. the etymology of the word fuck, which is unknown to you yet fucking is all you could ever think of. what the FUCK?
we are divided by lights, separated by the unknown.
"Everything should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler." - Albert Einstein
Let X equal the quantity of all quantities of Y.
Let X equal the heat.
It is hot during summer.
The months of super-heat equal March through May.
There are three months of super-heat, and three months of super-cold, leaving six months of indeterminate weather.
In March. The lake is a lake of fire.
In April. Procrastination rules.
In May. Labor Day.
The number of workers approaches infinity as the number of jobs approaches zero.
In June. The students come back and the bookstores are full.
The number of books approaches infinity as the number of months of cold approaches nine.
Let Y equal happiness.
The number of happiness approaches infinity as the number of sadness approaches infinity.
I will never be as happy in the future as I were in the past.
The future of sadness is infinite.
The future of happiness is the future of sadness.
The bookstores are infinite and so are never full except in June.
LUCY: Daddy?!
RANDY: What are you doing here?
SAM: I live here. This is where I live.
LUCY: This is where you live? So close to me?
SAM: I wanted to be close to you. I wanted to be closer. Look at my apartment number.(it’s number 9) John was born on October 9th. His son was born on October 9th.
LUCY: John met Yoko on November 9th.
SAM: His mother lived at 9 Newcastle, Liverpool.
LUCY: Newcastle. 9 letters. Liverpool - 9 letters…
[i am sam]
Dodong Gwapo’s Valentine Poem
itabi muna ang gold na isang kaha
ngayong araw, ang yosi ko’y pula
‘wag muna grande espresso ang kape
ngayong araw, ang starbucks ko’y strawberry
pagsapit ng gabi, ‘wag uminom ng cerveza
ang pampainit ng katawan ay vinong pula
ang babasahin ko’y hindi aklat ng batas
kundi kwento ng pag-ibig na wagas
pakikingan ko’y hindi musikang metal
kundi harmoniya ng awiting sentimental
ang ulam ko ay hindi inihaw o prito
kundi lutuing may sarsang kulay dugo
happy valentine’s day sa sarili ko
susugurin ko ang iyong hardin
luluhod sa lupa’t rosas mo’y amuyin
ang bango nito’y aking lalanghapin
hanggang sa tumuyo ang hamog na iniwan ng gabing
madilim
sa mga agujetas nito’y ang aking labi dadampi
kampupot man o hindi, sa halik ko, rosas mo’y ngingiti
bubuka sa haplos ng malambot kong labi
ang mapulang rosas mo, pipitasin ko sa saliw ng
iyong matatamis na hikbi
happy valentine’s day, sa ‘yo, beybi!
puke ng ina mong saksakan ng pangit
ngayong katorse, ‘wag kang makulit
‘wag kang umangal na puso mo’y masakit
baka saksakan ko ang bunganga mo ng tsokolateng mapait
ayokong makarinig ng angal na wala kang natanggap na rosas
bwiset ka katorse pa lang ngayon at bukas pa ang kinsenas
at lahat ng bilihin ngayon ang presyo ay tumaas
sa isang bigkis ng rosas, pwede na ako maka-full tank ng gas
kaya yang puso mong umaalingasngas
dapat ay sa bako-bakong aspaltadong lansangan ay i-gasgas
at di sa isang bigkis ng rosas magpahimas
at iiwan akong ang bulsa’y butas
happy valentine’s day, my asss!
sige, magpa-uto kayong lahat
sa mga kapitalistang sa pera nyo’y nakadilat
sa mga operator ng motel na walang tubig na hot
na may mga ipis na pakalat-kalat
na ang aircon ay kasing-init ng lagnat
pero dinadayo n’yo pa rin, mga barat
sige, magpa-uto kayong lahat
sa mga operator ng mga restoran
na ang ilaw ay isang kandila sa kadiliman
na sinadyang maging ganyan
para hindi n’yo masilayan
ang taghiyawat ng iyong kasintahan
ang basong di masyadong nahugasan
at ang mantel na namantsahan
sige, magpa-uto kayong lahat
sa tindera ng mga bulaklak
na sa pagpapakaloko nyo’y nagagalak
na ang tubo sa paninda’y halos sampung tupi ang patak
na sa simpleng ribbon ang tubo ay tumpak-tumpak
na sa isang maliit na card na sa mga rosas ay sinalpak
prinesyuhan ka nang sa wari mo ito’y pilak
sige, magpa-uto kayong lahat
sa mga producer ng pelikula tungkol sa pag-ibig
na ginawa para kayong mga uto ay makabig
sa mga sinehang kinukulang na sa lamig
dahil nagsiksikan na kayong mga baliw sa pag-ibig
na ang mga puso’t labi’y nag-aapoy na madilig
sige, magpa-uto kayong lahat
sa mga mang-aawit na nagsisipag-konsyerto
ng mga awitin ng mga puso n’yong loko-loko
sa mga tanghalang iba-iba ang presyo ng bawat bangko
na ang naka-upo sa harapa’y mga burgis at mga elitistang tao
habang kayong mga hampaslupa, sa tugatog ay nakatayo
pilit na tinatanaw ang mang-aawit na sinlaki na lang ng palito
sige, magpakatanga kayong lahat
happy valentine’s day, burat!
bakit ko pinag-aaksayahan ng oras
ang mga usapin tungkol sa mga puso’t rosas
gayong di pa ako nakakalampas
sa bahaging dulo ng balangkas
ng aklat na ng aking mga mata’y binabagtas
na kailangan kong basahin hanggang wakas
dahil meron akong exam bukas
happy valentine’s day na lang sa inyo, fellas!
Why, why do you worry?
We are not born nor do we die
What is happening happens for the best
What will happen happens for the best
We have come emptyhanded
We will go emptyhanded
What have you lost that you are weeping?
What have you found that you have lost?
What have you built that has been destroyed?
You have not anything
What you have, you got from here
What was given you, was given here
What you took, you took from here
What you gave, you gave unto here
We have come emptyhanded
We will go emptyhanded
Emptyhanded
So why, why toil for sorrow
And what have we to fear
What is happening happens for the best
What will happen happens for the best
We have come emptyhanded
We will go emptyhanded
Emptyhanded
–Cynthia Ayala-Alexander
Derived from the Bhagavad-Gita, August 2002
What are we?
"Mind can modify itself but love cannot. Mind can make itself invulnerable, but love cannot; mind can always withdraw, be exclusive, become personal or impersonal. Love is not to be compared and hedged about. Our difficulty lies in that which we call love, which is really of the mind. We fill our hearts with the things of the mind and so keep our hearts ever empty and expectant. It is the mind that clings, that is envious, that holds and destroys. Our life is dominated by the physical centers and by the mind. We do not love and let it alone, but crave to be loved; we give in order to receive, which is the generosity of the mind and not of the heart. The mind is ever seeking certainty, security and can love be made certain by the mind? Can the mind whose very essence is of time, catch love, which is its own eternity? There is no means to love as a desirable end to the mind."
–J. Krishnamurti
Where are we going?
We are dreaming of tomorrow and tomorrow isn’t coming,
We are dreaming of a glory that we don’t really want.
We are dreaming of a new day when the new day’s here already.
We are running from the battle when it’s one that must be fought.
And still we sleep.
We are listening for the calling but never really heeding,
Hoping for the future when the future’s only plans.
Dreaming of the wisdom that we are dodging daily,
Praying for a savior when salvation’s in our hands.
And still we sleep.
And still we dream.
And still we pray.
And still we fear.
And still we sleep.
–Todd Anderson of the Dead Poets Society
Hey, I’ve been thinking…
So it follows that contrary to what everyone thinks…
Whatever.
Anyway, I’ve been thinking about my wedding day. I’ve decided that I’d have to die first before I wed. I want to become a corpse bride. Imagine how pretty I would become with my blue skin! Then I would turn into hundreds of butterflies under the full moon. *sigh*
My anonymous friend and I were bored out of our wits one boring afternoon while hanging out at our hang-out. We were silent for about 10 minutes when my friend suddenly asked, "Weez, have you ever loved before? I mean, it seems like you never had a romantic type of relationship with anyone since that unfortunate day I met you 8 years ago…"
“Well, I actually fell in love with someone years ago,” I absent-mindedly blurted out.
My friend raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Far-out!”
“Yeah!” I yelled.
Nostalgia struck like lightning from the corners of my dark gray matter. It’s amazing how I could still vividly recall those
memories… memories of my very-first-relationship-with-a-guy-slash-first-love.
I was young, and sad.
I often cried since I found it hard controlling my sadness. Well, I was crying when I first saw him. He was staring at
me, worried perhaps, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was my misery. I was
surprised when I found out he was still looking at me as my sobs subsided. I
gazed back at him. I noticed he had long wavy hair, and he was a little thin.
‘Twas strange because when I met his eyes, all I saw was love. He gave me a reassuring
smile. Unexpectedly, I smiled back. I knew that at that instant, I fell in love with him.
Pretty weird huh? How could I have known it was love? I was
young, naïve, and lonely. You can say that I didn’t even know what love was
then. But that’s exactly how I knew it was love - because love needs no
explanation, logic, or whatsoever. How could you explain an emotion as strong as love in the first place?
Anyhow, we became lovers. He was the only guy
who could ease my sorrow. He’d simply sit with me, and I’d feel a lot better. On
really sad days he would caress my hair or hold my hand and that would be
enough to comfort me. When crying was inevitable, he’d get his guitar and sing for
me. And yeah, I remember he even composed me a song - and I can still sing the
first two lines:
Riza Krishna, please don’t cry
Everything’s gonna be alright.
Indeed, that song made me feel alright. His music was my
valium. He was my valium.
Our love grew exponentially with time. And so I got to know more
about him. I discovered that he was a smoker. He smoked a lot - yet he
discouraged me from smoking. So I promised him that I’d never smoke. In return
he promised me he’d stop smoking. Years later he did keep his promise, but I broke
mine. Well, that’s another story.
Terms of endearment - silly but when you’re in a relationship, it’s automatic
right? I called him “Dope Roupe”. I made it up after I learned that he was
a dope addict in the past. He called me “Baby” – so freakin’ cliché. But that was what he
wanted to call me so I didn’t mind.
I remember how he loved to make me laugh, how we’d joke
around, how he’d carry me on his back, or how he’d tell me strange and funny stories. I
remember how I enjoyed hugging and kissing him. He was sweet – that was what he was.
Those days seemed to be the happiest in
my life.
I loved his company so much that I always looked forward to
our time together. There was even a time when I’d visit his school just to hang
out with him, despite my being introvert. He introduced me to some of the
students there, and that was how I sort-of “came out of my shell” and learned
to commune with other people.
He was also my very first philosophy guru. His wisdom influenced much of what I believe in today. He seemed
to know and understand a lot of things, that’s why I thought he was the
greatest guy on earth.
However, the only constant thing in life hit me dramatically - change. I started to discover new things; new people and they fascinated
me more than his company. ‘Twas like he was gradually mutating into something really
boring. Maybe I just grew tired of him. And then I realized that he
wasn’t actually that great after all. Soon I kinda ignored him, yet he
continued treating me the same way as before, and I wasn’t comfortable with that
anymore.
Parallel to the phases of microbial growth, the exponential
growth of our love had reached its stationary phase, the phase when love
stopped growing – a sudden dead, horizontal line in the graph of love vs time. I felt that he was becoming very overprotective of me and I hated it. A hurdle
to my freedom and happiness, I thought he was. He said I’ve changed a lot, and that
he simply couldn’t dig what was happening with me. Thus, I became awfully stubborn
while he kept on trying to change me. I thought he had the narrowest mind on
earth. And so our constant misunderstandings ended our sweet and romantic relationship.
My sudden recollection of the past sent a twinge in my heart. Our
love story. How could our love vanish just like that?
Nah-ah. I still love him - very much. First love never dies, right? First love NEVER dies. No
matter what happened or what will happen, I will always love him. Honestly, I
miss our sweet, romantic relationship. I actually pray that someday we’d be that close again.
“Ouch!” I snapped. Wincing,
I rubbed my arm. “Hey, what’s that pinch for?”
“Oh great, you’re back. You’ve drifted to your own little
alien world again,” my friend complained. "I was aking you about that guy you’re claiming to have fallen in love with."
"What about him?" I asked.
My friend looked at me in the eye and demanded, "Who was he?”
His face blurred in my mind. I was crying when we first met.
“My DAD,” I replied.
—————————————
posted June 2005, Father’s Day.
"Don’t ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody."
– Chapter 26, The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, 1945
Umupo si X sa gutter habang inaantay ang dilim. May dumaang jeep at muntik na siyang tamaan ng dura ng isang pasahero. Buti na lang mabilis ang reflex nya. Tangna wala talagang disiplina ang mga Pinoy, sabi nya sa sarili. Dudura kung saan nila gusto. Bad trip.
Eh kasi naman, ba’t ba siya naka-upo sa gutter? May mga waiting shed naman sa tabi, may upuan pa, ba’t sa gutter pa sa lahat ng lugar? Kaya naman maraming naaksidente. Kung banggain kaya siya ng isang gagong driver ng jeep? Maraming gagong drivers, lalo na ang mga taxi dirvers. Parang mga hari ng kalsada.
Pinoy si X eh. Wala ring disiplina. Eh sa masarap umupo sa gutter, ewan nya kung bakit. Pag nasa gutter siya, mas komportable siya. At kung anong nais nyang gawin, gagawin nya. Wala siyang paki-alam. Gaya nung pasaherong ginawa siyang target sa pag-dura. Buti nga naka-iwas siya.
Antagal ng dilim. Tumayo si X. Naiinip na siya.
