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October 16, 2004

and things went half-crazy

morning.
wrote about libel, faking, plagiarism, theft, robbery,
anti-fencing law (for a minute there, i almost wrote anti-law fencing.
fix my focus-power please, anyone), stephen glass, guiren.
forgot about blair and cooke. wrote about press cards.
and the list goes on...
then i danced "walang sabit" or whatever the title of that song is
in front of my classmates (whatever purpose i had for it, i wouldn't know)

noon.
went home with yen. ate eggs, bread, rice, lettuce, mayonnaise.
received texts from wilson. "hey ver, 'read my blog? i'm tired"
- well that text looks like most of the original text.
anyway, i miss him. i wish he was here.
saw russ sitting glumly outside school while yen and i were riding the jeepney.
having a hard time concentrating on afternoon rummaging.
the guy looked like rey. rey! there goes my mind shouting.
all four of us (chai liyo yen and me) went down the jeepney. i was panicking.
is it rey? i haven't seen him for what feels like ages already,
and now he is materializing by the side of the road; and then we look at each other
eye to eye. his face was blank. no tinge of recognition or surprise.
is it not him? probably. he looks older, with more flabs than rey
(later, i would find out that his name is henry, rey's older half-brother.
my aunt would tell me during the later part of the day).
four little people rummaging old clothes, sweaters, skirts. 50, 120, 35.
the prices were unexpectedly high! isn't this a rummage sale?
we're here to conquer the world of cheap prices and yet these people
stuck old clothes in our faces and giving these prices!
God help us all.
anyway, i got myself a coinbox; yen, a dress for her sister
and a long-sleeved blouse for herself; liyo, an apple;
chai, maroon blouse for her mom, blue long-sleeved-something
for herself and her sister, and otap.
feet sore, faces getting a thick layer of dust,
frustrated minds, paranoid ideas of death -
all such things accompanied us to the jeepney.
but the conversations on songs lightened the mood.
chai hugged us saying, "i-hug ko ni russ," chai went down the jeepney.

AND THE HIGHLIGHT
LIYO YEN AND I LOOKING FOR ANY FREE AREA WHERE WE CAN PRACTICALLY LIE DOWN,
WONDERING ABOUT WHERE RUSS WENT AND WHERE HE IS, PROBABLY SULKING.
RUSS ARRIVES. WONDERFUL.
SO WE TALK.
THIS owen-GUY SITTING WITH US IN THE IMPROVISED SHED SAID, "CONGRATULATIONS RUSS."
WORKSHOP-THING FOR ME SHATTERED TO PIECES.
THIS joan-PERSON WHO KEPT SAYING "AYG HILAK VER" MADE ME WANT TO KILL SOMEBODY.
joan, COME OVER HERE AND LET'S FIND WAYS TO SETTLE THINGS WITH.. A KNIFE, PERHAPS?
THIS IS WHAT YOU CALL ANGER-TRANSFERRING.

I AM NOT ANGRY WITH RUSS
(LATER ON, AFTER joan KEPT SINGING HER DIABOLIC CHANT,
I WOULD REALIZE THAT I'M HAPPY FOR RUSS, HE'D GO TO ECOTECH,
HE'D LEASH OUT HIS EMOTIONS WITH WORDS, HE'D MEET NEW PEOPLE,
HE'D SEE ALUNAN IN PERSON, HE'D MAYBE MOMENTARILY FORGET ABOUT james)

I AM NOT ANGRY WITH miss pinzon. SHE HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF THIS,
SAVE FOR HER PARANOID QUESTIONS AND STUPID WAY OF PROLONGING OUR AGONIES.
MAYBE SHE WANTED US ALL IN.

I AM NOT ANGRY WITH MYSELF.

I AM ANGRY WITH YELLOW PALMS.
I AM ANGRY WITH NEALA. I AM ANGRY WITH BLIND GIRL.
I AM ANGRY WITH 'LEAVES'. I AM ANGRY WITH 'COLOR'.
THEY KEPT SINGING THEMSELVES INSIDE MY HEAD
AS I RODE THE JEEPNEY WITH MY TITA MARICAR TOWARDS BASILICA DEL SANTO NIƱO.
THEY KEPT SINGING THEMSELVES INSIDE MY HEAD
AS I WATCHED PEOPLE'S HEADS FLASHING BY THE JEEPNEY WINDOW.
THEY KEPT SINGING THEMSELVES INSIDE MY HEAD
AS I LISTENED TO SONGS OF PRAISE IN CHURCH.
THEY KEPT SINGING THEMSELVES INSIDE MY HEAD
AS I PLAYED WITH MY COINBOX.
THEY KEPT SINGING THEMSELVES INSIDE MY HEAD
AS I WATCHED DEVOTEES OF THE CHILD JESUS RAISE THEIR ARMS
TO THE HEAVENS AND WHISPERING PRAYERS.
THEY KEPT SINGING THEMSELVES INSIDE MY HEAD
AS I LIGHTED FOUR CANDLES AFTER THE MASS,
TELLING GOD, 'SORRY, I'VE NOTHING TO PRAY.
I'VE NOTHING TO SAY.'
THEY KEPT SINGING THEMSELVES INSIDE MY HEAD
AS I TOUCHED THE CHURCH'S HISTORIC CRACKED STONES.
THEY KEPT SINGING THEMSELVES INSIDE MY HEAD
AS I SMILED, FROWNED, TALKED ABOUT THE REY-LOOK-ALIKE-GUY TO MY SISTER.
THEY KEPT SINGING THEMSELVES INSIDE MY HEAD
AS I KISSED BABY KING BACK HOME, THINKING,
'WHAT WOULD YOU WANT TO BECOME WHEN YOU GROW UP,HUH?
LITTLE BABY, WHEN YOU GROW UP, SAVE YOURSELF FROM THE ANGER OF THE WORLD,
SAVE YOURSELF FROM THE PREJUDICE, SAVE YOURSELF FROM EVERYTHING ELSE
THAT DOES NOT COMPENSATE FOR YOUR HAPPINESS AND PEACE. I LOVE YOU LITTLE BABY.'
THEY KEPT SINGING THEMSELVES INSIDE MY HEAD
AS I ALMOST CRIED WHILE EATING DINNER.
THEY KEPT SINGING THEMSELVES INSIDE MY HEAD
AS I FLIPPED PAGES OF A BOOK ON LOVE AND ROMANCE.
WHERE WAS THAT BOOK ABOUT JASON BOURNE?
THEY KEPT SINGING THEMSELVES INSIDE MY HEAD
AS I TRIED TO SLEEP; LOUDER THIS TIME.

TEARS?
YES; THIS TIME I LET THEM ROLL.
WARM LIQUID DOING NOTHING TO EASE MY.. NOT ANGER.. MY FEARS MAYBE..
I COULDN'T TELL. I COULDN'T FIGURE THINGS OUT THIS TIME.
I'M JUST HEARING AND SEEING SCENES OF LEAVES SWIRLING DOWN.

I AM ALIVE.
SO LET IT BE.
AND SO LET IT BE.

1 comment:

Hiraya said...

you're not mad at anyone, but you want to be, because you can't handle it and you're so full of God-knows-what you want to spill but you don't know where. i hate that kind of feeling. alam mo anong ginawa ko? kung hindi nakatanga, umiiyak sa inis. buwiset. but it's ok, tomorrow will come and we'll be ok. ok?