ONE SUNDAY

One Sunday. It felt worst than any other day.
Saturday was fine. Sickening, but fine.
But that Sunday just wasn't like any.
Perhaps I ought to let you know why.

I woke up to the sound of big tears from the sky.
Them, racing to leaves 'til they gently touched the ground.
I, struggling with what should first be done.
No rush, Monday's not until tomorrow.

I stared at my collection of melancholy stories.
Enveloped in paperbacks, they called me home.
I heard then, but never did listen.
I shed my share of the sad, sad sound.

Summer. It has been four months.
Fall. I never believed it was true.
Winter. You're cold and delicate as snowflake.
Rain. Your steadiness kills.

Walk slowly past them all,
Them who I thought I knew.
Don't look at them, for I'll see you.
It's the last thing today I would want to do.

There never was a choice, never a chance ---
And I'm sorry I waited for Sunday.
Because sometimes, what feels good is all wrong,
but what kills you inside is what's right.

Monday. Thought I didn't care.
Wednesday. I was caught unaware.
Saturday. Sick, but I'd be fine.
Sunday. I just knew it was goodbye. #

photo credit: shoulderdiary

FROM THE BACKYARD, A PRESENT FROM GOD

Beautiful things are discovered in its right time.

Just this morning, I put to my to-do list making a serious research on the art of preservation of dried leaves and flowers. The front and backyard has an abundant share of fallen leaves every now and then so might as well make good use of them. For the past years, I tried a couple of times to do it the natural way, pressing summer flowers and autumn leaves on the last part of the yellow pages and opening it only after a while. They dry up, but didn’t look like how I wanted them to. That’s why when my sister brought up this topic this morning, I was pretty eager to learn the art seriously this time. But little did I know a pleasant surprise was waiting.

The historic monsoon this week was indeed disastrous; and even though the house wasn’t flooded, I knew a cleaning job at the backyard was up for me again. So there I was, sweeping the soggy fallen leaves with a walis ting-ting, when I chanced upon this weird dried leaf from the jackfruit tree. Unlike most fallen leaves, this guy was most unique. It was pure veins, with only about 2% of its brown skin hanging on it. But still, the veins were perfectly held together, no punctures, no perforations, like a  wing of a transparent butterfly. Holy smokes, I said to myself. I immediately got the small basin from the sink, poured in some tap water, and helped the rest of the skin get off the veins. I knew I was being forceful but the veins were miraculously strong. 

Needless to say I wasn’t in pretty much a good state this week. Because I have slight seasonal affective disorder, I had to suffer some bad episodes brought about by the lack of sunlight again. It was so bad I nearly snapped yesterday, if not for a few understanding people around me who let me just walk alone the parking lots of buildings E to J to help me gain some sanity. I was thinking so many thoughts, worrying about my future plans and where I was standing in my own timeline once more. Looking down silently at the strong current from the makeshift pond at the middle of the hub, I prayed and told God I wanted answers. And finding this beautifully preserved dried leaf was not only an answer--- it was a message inserted in a tiny present.

A lot of us, or should I say most of us live our lives like it were purely ours, that when plans go awry, we go awry and crumble like landslides as well. The past year wasn’t exactly as good for me, but it wasn’t so bad either--- and that’s what I failed to see. I was heavily focused on an unsuccessful scholarship application, an ambiguous career ahead, and some other personal challenges that I did not notice that I had over a thousand other blessings. I don’t even want to start naming one because it will never end.

This leaf is God’s reminder, of His promise to me and perhaps to you as well. This leaf, amid the strong winds and heavy rainfall, stood the test and came out really beautiful after an uncertain period, its veins strongly held together like it was some masterpiece, probably even more amazing than any other leaf-art method I could research on. It was beauty made in time. This is God’s art. And if He was able to do it with an innocent leaf, what more to you and me? #

A capture of the leaf after a violent wash. :)

STRAIGHT TALK: HOW DO I GET TO THE MIDDLE?

I'm not really good with goodbyes. If I say mine, I'll definitely think of our little times together once I look at you, and just start to cry. Maybe things even you could not remember. And when you're the one leaving me for good, it's either I'll end up giving you most that I can, or I'll just silently watch you take that plane ride, on the side, without a single word. I don't know which hurts more, but how do I get to the middle? I'd like to know.

I'm not good with hellos either. It's either I ask too much questions the first time we meet, or I'll just give you a shy hand wave and just wait till you greet me first along the hallway. I don't know if you can recall how it was with you but either ways, we will always end up being quite okay, because my hellos are preparations for my goodbyes, which I fail to perfect. So how do I get to the middle? Please tell me how.

And yes, I'm also not good with keeping my distance. It's either I'll make you feel like we've known each other for quite some time to make you loosen things up with me a notch, or I'll just pretend that I did not see you, so as not to oblige me to greet or talk to you for that day. Does that sound stupid? I tend to get moody at times; but all those good days, trust that I'm being honest and genuine. Because I want to make up for our missed 'hello,' or what might be a painful goodbye from either you or me.

Now how do I get to the middle? How do I say hello and go about every day without thinking of our goodbye? This is straight talk. I would really, really like to know. #

photo credit: shutterstock

DRAG QUEEN

He's not who you think he is. Or she? Or he.
Entertainment, yes, the root of all reasons.
Goes up the stage, walks around town strutting
good ol' signature dress and severe make up.

Make up. 'Twas all but a little make up,
at first, but eventually turned into something hefty,
something even he did not notice and cannot identify,
if you could find a shoddier term for 'identity crisis'.

Not a matter of chance, I suppose,
because chances do not really make up good stories.
Not something acute or sudden, too,
because humans are creatures of habit, over time.

Over time, an enclave strumming of mental nerves.
It prompted him to choose to, or not to listen to the voice
that mumbles a very, very low undertone
twice, every 4 in the afternoon, when he is but alone.

So there goes the drag. King. Queen. Whatever.
Like a KitKat bar, confused if it's choco or wafer.
Who is to say, anyway, but he himself?
Catch-22: He's a liar, so much so he could lie to himself.

He drags himself. Half-figurative, half-literal.
He goes up the stage, judged by the way he looks and acts.
Give him a carrot and it does no good.
It actually does him worse. He thinks a lot, and now asks me

What is he? Everything becomes awry, but he forgets,
That there's only one reality to ponder, so I told him:
"Beautiful as it may seem, ye have to accept
the fact that it forever will be just part of your memory.

Of a distant past, or an unreachable future,
I would never, never get to know either."
Because in my fickle mind, he is not my own fiction,
but a reality. "I am you," I said, "and you are me." #

photo credit: deviantart

HOW TO SAY SORRY IN 400 WORDS

So maybe you've just grown tired, of my apologies, of me telling you I'll always do better next time. But you pretty know there are things that just could not fit right in your hands, right? Like lines that you force to go straight when they never could. They were born curves, I told you. But still, you believed in the possibility. Which in turn made me believe, too. And that's the exact point why I can't get over hating myself for disappointing you.


I can't say that freaking word because I know you might not believe me anymore. That word, that five-letter word you say when you unintentionally step on someone else's new white shoes, or accidentally break someone else's young, fragile heart for the first time. As much as I'd like to deny, I could feel something has changed between us, with the things that are usually just there and the you who was just usually yourself. But I'm giving this thought a benefit of the doubt by assuming two things: one, I'm just paranoid, and two, you're just busy. Busy enough to push me aside for the moment.


Oh yes, I'm big enough, to know what's right from wrong, and to know why and how things could have probably been right or wrong. "Probably." Because they are measured. You love numbers. I hate them. I hate measurements. I hate standards. I'm a scofflaw. And maybe that's why this line you envisioned could never really go straight. I am not them. If you could please stop thinking like everybody does.


I begged you to just quit, but still you go. And you remind me of that guy Eddie Vedder's singing about in "Off He Goes". I could offend you a thousand times over, you get tired, but you still believe. That's why I can't quit, too. Not just yet. Yes, maybe things have changed. But don't worry, I can go on like this. A simple "hello" will do, or perhaps a one-question one-answer type of numbered conversation. Enough to show people nothing happened. It hurts, but I know I caused this state in the first place. And it's actually better this way. I told you not to expect anything from me. I will just do it. But still, if the lines won't go straight, at least I once had this beautiful memory.


It's raining. I gotta go. #

ISA NGA PONG 2-PC CHICKEN AT DOUBLE CHEESEBURGER

Kapag binubuksan ko na ang baunan ko 'pag tanghalian, madalas kong makuha yung tanong na, "kumakain ka ba ng karne?" Bakit nga ba naman hindi ako matatanong, e kung hindi pechay o tokwa o puso ng saging ang laman ng baunan ko, ay isdang pinakuluan na may dahun-dahon pero mukha pa rin namang walang lasa. "Health conscious?" Di rin. "Muslim?" Lalong hindi. Eto na sasabihin ko na nga kasi.

Minsan siguro iniisip natin na 'pag kumakain tayo ng corned beef kunwari, yung baka na yun ay lumaki sa isang cute little red barn na puno ng dayami, tapos ginagatasan sila dun kung kailan sila nasa mood. Kasama nila ang mga manok sa isang parte ng farmhouse, kung saan tahimik nilang nililimliman ang mga itlog na gagawin nating sunny side-up at leche flan. But no. Sa dami ng Bon Chon at KFC at McDonald's sa Pilipinas at sa mundo, tingin mo ba ganun pa rin ka-relaks ang pagpapadami ng baka, manok, at kahit na anong hayop na pinagkukuhaan ng karne ngayon? Para mas masaya, panuorin mo 'to: Meet Your Meat.

Sa madaling salita, masyado nang mataas ang demand ng food supply dahil sa dami ng tao sa mundo. Kung hindi sila mamadaliing palakihin at patayin nang ganito, malamang kalahati na sa mundo ang nagutom.

Pero malamang marami naman sa inyo madidiri lang ngayon tapos bukas kakain na ulit ng litson. Ang sarap e, diba? Pero bukod sa usaping pangkalusugan at tamang pagtrato ng mga nilalang na may buhay, may isa pang matinding dahilan.

Siguro hindi mo namamalayan na sa bawat pagkain mo ng karne, isa ka sa mga taong nakikiisa sa paglaganap ng kahirapan hindi lang sa Pilipinas kundi sa buong mundo. Ano daw? Labo naman nun. OK. Babalikan natin ang mataas na demand para sa food supply. Meron tayong dalawang uri ng food supply: yung deretsong napupunta sa hapag, at yun namang ginagamit sa industriya. At dahil nga mataas ang demand ng industriya o yung para sa produksyon ng karne (kasama na mga fast food chains), ang food supply na dapat napupunta deretso sa hapag ng tao ay pinapakain sa mga hayop. At yung lupang dapat pinagtataniman ng gulay, nilalaan pa sa mas malaking produksyon ng karne. Kaya imbes na yung cassava na kinain sana ng isang pamilya ng magsasaka, pinakakain sa baka. In short,

1.) Busog yung baka. Yung parehong bakang gagawing cheeseburger maya-maya.

2.) Gutom yung magsasaka. O masyado nang mahal yung presyo ng cassava na nabili niya.

3.) Ikaw busog ka. Kasi may pambili ka ng cheesburger at quarter pounder.

Marami, napakarami pang dahilan para unti-unti na nating pwedeng itigil o bawasan ang pagkonsumo ng hayop sa hapag-kainan --- global warming, epekto sa kalusugan, atbp. Pero yan na siguro ang dalawa sa pinakasimpleng dahilan. Wala namang pumipilit sa 'yo, pero sa susunod na pipila ka sa McDo, isipin mo. Isipin mo lang naman. #

Para sa karagdagang detalye, maaaring bumisita sa: peta2.com 

NUNG MINSAN AKONG NAUPO

'Pag ba napagdesisyunan mo munang umupo at magpahinga, nag-aaksaya ka na agad ng oras?
Minsan kasi 'di ba parang napapagod ka rin? Yung gusto mo lang tumigil muna. Pwede rin namang may nag-udyok sa 'yo. Pero 'wag na natin palalimin. Basta minsan napapagod ka lang.

Basta? Hindi rin. Hindi naman basta tinatanggap ang dahilang 'basta.' Lahat daw ng nararamdaman, may tamang pinanggagalingan. Ang sa 'kin naman, bakit mo kailangang malaman? Kahit gusto mo, hindi ko ipapaliwanag. Hindi lahat ng bagay pinapaliwanag. Kaya kung ako sa 'yo, intindihin mo na  lang ako.

Intindihin? Hindi naman kasi lahat ng bagay nauunawaan eh. May mga bagay na mahalaga sa 'yo pero hindi naman sa 'kin. At may mga bagay na mahalaga sa 'kin na hindi naman sa 'yo. Ganun talaga ang mundo. Natural lang sigurong maghulaan ang mga tao.

Nahulaan mo na ba ang nararamdaman ko? 'Wag na. Pinapagod mo lang ang sarili mo. Siguro diyan ka na lang, tapos hayaan mo na lang din ako dito. Tatawagin na lang kita 'pag kakailanganin ko na talaga ng tulong mo. O sabihin na nating hindi ko lang talaga sigurado kung matutulungan mo 'ko.

Teka, iniisip ko kung anong tulong ba ang kailangan ko. Nasabi ko naman na eh. Kung hindi mo nakuha 'yun hindi ko na kawalan. May mga bagay na kailangan inuulit-ulit pero may mga bagay na kailangan mong tignan sa sarili mong mga mata para magkaro'n ng katuturan.

Ang hirap maghanap ng katuturan 'no? Minsan gawa ka nang gawa tapos mapapaatras ka bigla kasi wala naman pala siyang katuturan. Matitigilan ka tuloy. Bakit? Dahil kahit walang nagsabi, alam mong nasa katuturan ng mga ginagawa mo ang mismong katuturan mo bilang tao. Andun nga kaya?

Nung umupo ako, ikaw naman ang pinagod ko. Pasensya na ah. Ganun talaga. 'Pag ayokong mag-isip, uudyukin kong ikaw naman ang mag-isip. Siguro hindi kita mapipilit, o kung posible man, medyo matatagalan. Ano, kuha ba? Halika, hanap pa tayo ng mapapaupo. #


photo credit: ayladeeyosah

THE FIRE TREE

It must have slipped my mind
On the last edge of summer.
Pure awe for a vision foreseen
But now clutches from behind.

Your leaves are your flowers,
Trifling flames that race up
The little soggy green stalks
That hold your desires.

When did you turn crimson?
It must have been when,
Because no one could disprove,
Not a being was rational.

Who gave your guise of scarlet?
I muster it was them who,
As no logic can abjure,
Were consumed by the orthodox.

Make haste, fine fire tree!
Your diaphanous fragments of ruby
Race down in a soundless dance
Halfway a cold, windy June.

Though now burgundy, they still glow.
Wet greens will feed themselves,
Rubber wheels that tread on dry grays
Will perhaps be most perturbed.

It was a mess, yet for me it was beauty.
And I dare not impart a word ---
I will let your self stay beneath yourself
Until the next edge of summer pulls over. #

photo credit: LDLanham

VALID ID # 1

Mahigit 40 years nang nagmamaneho si Daddy, at sa dinami-rami ng taon na pasahero niya 'ko, lahat na yata ng aral sa kalsada at pagmamaneho naituro na niya. Hindi naman ako sobrang matanda na pero sa dami ng taon na yun, ang dami ko na ring napansing pagbabago sa daan. At minsan, nakakatawang ikumpara yung gawi ng kalsada noon sa gawi ng kalsada ngayon. Eto lang ang ilan:

Sa kalsada ngayon, may tatlong uri ka ng taong makakasalubong. Una, yung naglalakad nang normal. Pangalawa, yung nagte-text habang naglalakad. Pangatlo, yung kaninang nagte-text habang naglalakad, ngayon, nasagasaan na. Hindi ba kasi makapag-intay yung ka-text mo?! Siya pa yung galit 'pag binusinahan mo. Sorry naman.

Sa kalsada ngayon, may tatlong uri ng sasakyan. Una, private. Pangalawa, public. Pangatlo, motorsiklo. Oo, hiwalay sila. Kaya nga may sarili silang lane sa EDSA at Commonwealth eh. At dahil special sila, pwede rin silang mamili kung pedestrian ba sila o sasakyan kahit kailan nila gustuhin.

Sa kalsada ngayon, wala nang may right of way at joining traffic lang. Basta may maiaabot kang pang-meryenda, ikaw ang nasa tama. Epektibo rin 'yan kung DUI ka o kaya napagdesisyunan mong mag-beating the red light dahil masasaraduhan ka na ng drive thru sa McDonald's.

Sa kalsada ngayon, lahat kailangan minamarkahan at binabarikadahan. Green fences para lang di magbuwis-buhay ang nagmamadaling tumawid, "Nakamamatay" signs dahil hindi na yata naiintindihan yung salitang "bawal", mga pink na guhit sa bangketa, urinals, at kung anu-ano pang pampadumi ng daan. Bakit parang nabuhay naman tayo dati sa simpleng pedestrian lane at traffic lights lang?

Sa kalsada kasi ngayon, lahat may kalayaan--- walang gustong magbigayan. Lahat tayo ginagawa lang kung anong gusto natin gawin. Lahat, gusto mauna. 'Pag libre ang daan, kahit pula ang ilaw, gora lang. 'Pag nalalayuan sa footbridge, tawid lang sa kung saang butas kakasya. Paparahin ang sasakyan sa eksaktong dapat babaan, kahit 5 metro lang ang layo ng tamang babaan.

Anong nangyari? Bakit parang sumobra na ang gulo? Babalik na naman ba tayo sa usapin ng tamang pagpapatupad ng batas? O simpleng arogante lang talaga karamihan ngayon ng tao? Siguro pareho.

Kung naalala niyo si Alex Lacson at ang aklat niyang "12 Little Things Every Filipino Can Do To Help Our Country", ang pagsunod sa batas trapiko ang unang-una sa labindalawa:

"1st  : Follow traffic rules. Follow the law

Traffic rules are the most basic of our country’s laws. If we learn to follow them, it could be the lowest form of national discipline we can develop as a people. A culture of discipline is crucial to our destiny as a nation.

Whenever we follow traffic rules, we show our love for our neighbor, our love for the Filipino."

Respeto lang naman eh. "Lang" pero napakalalim niyan kung tutuusin, bilang sobrang gulo na nga sa kalsada ng ka-Maynila-an. At hanggang hindi ako nakakasigurong ligtas na ngang mag-full time ako sa pagmamaneho, Valid ID#1 na lang muna ang Driver's License ko. #

photo credit: House of Wards

PUNONGBAYAN

Some twenty-one years ago in 1991, I woke up to a breath-taking scenery of white outside our apartment window. It covered trees, cars, house roofs, and almost every surface where my youthful sight could reach. But it wasn't snow --- I was right in the middle of a small town in Mandaluyong. It was lahar ---thick, powdery, white traces of heavy ash fall.

White ash fall spread across the nation on June 16, 1991

For Filipinos, volcanoes and quakes were never common subjects over dinner until the eruption of Mount Pinatubo that historic June 15th of 1991 where white ash fall reached even our neighboring countries. Instead, these were mysterious matters of nature waiting to be unearthed in their own scientific cycles --- 100, 300, 600 years doesn't matter; we just know it will come.

And for Mount Pinatubo, it just so happened that its 600th year cycle came at the start of the twentieth century, threatening a good start to launching urban and suburban developments across Luzon. But there was one man, a Filipino so dedicated to his visions of making these forces of nature be understood by us, ordinary people. As he accurately predicted Pinatubo's eruption since an earthquake hit in July 1990, he never stopped leading Phivolcs in education, evacuation, and disaster preparedness projects. And though the eruption still left 847 people dead, tens of thousands of people below the tripoint of Zambales were saved, and 18,000 members of the US Air Force and their families left the Clark Air Base in Pampanga just days before the explosion because of the timely warnings. His name was Raymundo Punongbayan --- former Phivolcs director, and a late grandfather.

Dir. Punongbayan inside the old Philvolcs office in 1990

Hands-on was Punongbayan that he literally lived at the Phivolcs office to monitor the Pinatubo crisis. The Aetas of Pampanga were so used to his visits and teachings that they called him "Tatay." And on the aftermath of the world's second largest volcanic eruption of the 20th century, lahar, fault lines, earthquakes, and volcanoes became layman's terms. Why not? After all, we are sitting on the Pacific Ring of Fire and should be much aware of disaster mitigation more than anyone else in Southeast Asia.  

His son Stauro would define him as "selfless and indefatigable," and would usually see him "lying on the sofa thinking of what else he could do for the country, for the people." Punongbayan never stopped --- until a helicopter crash killed him with 8 other members of the Red Cross. They were in the middle of a search for a resettlement area for the landslide victims in Quezon on that 28th of April, 2006. His ashes were scattered over Taal Volcano, a thing he always wished and told his children when he was still alive.

Though the government did not give much financial support to a very important department, he proved that this should not stop him from finding means to help his countrymen. I dare not call him 'lolo' as I can't even remember how many times I met him. But the country owned him, and that's what I most admired about Punongbayan. He led a simple life, but with much of a scientist and a Filipino's integrity.

We don't need to bleed ourselves researching on scientific subject matters to save thousands of lives. Perhaps we just need to put a little of our being a Filipino in whatever we decide to pursue, beyond support for a Fil-Am AI contestant or a famed boxing champion. So here's to three occasions this week: Mount Pinatubo's 21st Anniversary, Punongbayan's 75th birthday anniversary, and to the Philippines' 114th Day of Independence. Mabuhay. #

photo of the actual eruption in 1991

* much thanks to PDI for a headline feature that came out on June 15, 2012.