tada

o tadhana ako'y wag paglaruan

sa iyong mga kuko'y wala akong kalaban laban

kaiisip mapapraning, wala namang magagawa

kapag ikaw ay nakipagkasundo na kay bathala.

mga pagkakataon sa aki'y wag naman ipagkait

lubosin ang unos, ang pait ay masapit

hayaan mong akitin naman ako ng liwanag

biyayaan ng saya, wakasan ang siglo ng sakuna.

galle.

Awaken me from supposed sweet slumber

Let my passion once more arise

To You I'll cling and run and stay and die

Fill me with You -

Save me from this supposed life.

about last night,

We were having dinner. It was a nice one. A nice dinner with him.

Nice should be relative. It's supposed to be relative. How come I know (or I knew) that the dinner was nice when it was the first time I've had dinner with him? I mean dinner with them.

Supposedly there were 7 of them, minus him. How come I only saw a couple or three of them? But I'm certain there were seven of them there. I know I had dinner with eight.

I can't recall what we were talking about, though.

Sad.

But I know I had dinner with them. Funny that he actually fit in that tree house. He did actually fit well in that table intended for 7. And the chair. Ooh. That tiny chair. With all that jolly-ness and beard? Not to mention the belly and the red felt-like, uhm, clothes? Hah. Yeah. He did fit well.

How come Grumpy wasn't so grumpy when he was there? Was Grumpy there? He should've been there. I know the seven of them were complete. Yeah. Grumpy was there. And Sneezy. And Doc. Can't remember the other names, though. Maybe I would remember all seven names if we'd have dinner again later.

And yeah, maybe Santa would be there again.

lebumfacil

He had a dream of twisted fates and cynical laughs. Staring at space with utmost sincerity in endless time, he responds to whispers that drag people around him to ideas away from the mundane. He wills to craft things too beautiful for the hands to see. He dares to. He chooses to. He continues to drift from day to day indifferent to the idea that he's actually capable of taking away some lady's dying dream.

Or so he thought.

5418868000003378

Ring. Ring.

The oh-so-familiar voice is there again.

Hunting.

Trying to trick you.

Trying to grab your wits.

A bunch of codes then..

She's in.

There you are, hating her. But then again you can't do anything but obey every single command of hers. Every second you get shaky, as if she'll consume you if you haven't provided her with all her needs.

More than consume, actually.

You can't help but be manipulated by the sort of unseen speaker. Even extra careful with the words you're about to say.

You want the conversation to be over, and the least thing that you want to happen is for her to be mad.

No.

You wouldn't want that.

Alas.

"Would there be anything else, Ms. Clinton?"

"Nahh. That's it."

Click.

Several minutes past four in the morning. Last Saturday of May.

Then she's gone.

And damn.

Would you miss her so.

Monday, October 9, 2006

Me: Uhmm, Death? Can you please stop
embracing me? Thanks.

Death: Oh.. Sorry. Am I choking you?

Me: I guess you're supposed to do that. You're
Death, remember?

Death: Oh yeah. Sorry.

Me: No prob. I hope you won't mind moving away
too.

Death: Sorry. Ok. Am I too close? Sorry.

Me: You're always saying sorry. You're starting to
annoy me.

Death: Am I? Err.. Sorry. Oh shucks. Sorry again.
Argh. Sorry.

Me: And why do you keep on apologizing?

Death: Sor.. Err..

Me: You aren't supposed to be polite, right?

Death: . . .

Death: How should someone like me if I'm not?

Me: Are we supposed to like you?

Death: Don't you?

Me: . . .

Death: Darn it. I knew it wasn't working.

Me: You're tricking me again.

Death: Nahh.. That's just how I am. If I won't lure
you to my empty space.. Is there a filled space?
Well, anyway, if I won't tempt you to like me, then I
wouldn't be Death at all.

Me: You've got a point.

Death: Coffee?

Me: Sure. Wait..

Death: I prefer coco. Caffeine's bad for my neurons
and axons and dendrites. And add peanut butter.
Thanks.

Me: You add peanut butter on coco?

Death: Don't you? That's weird.

Me: Wait, I'm not supposed to like you.

Death: Why?

Me: Should I?

Me: You killed my Savior.

Death: Correction. Technically, I attempted to kill
Him.

Death: He's too strong. I just couldn't. He makes
me tremble. He's so filled with love.

Me: It's so odd for you to remind me that. More of
bizarre that I have to be reminded of that by you.

Death: Think so?

Me: Yeah.

Death: I wish He died for me too.

Me: Didn't He?

Death: He wouldn't be nailed on the cross if it
weren't for me. And if it weren't for you. More of,
bacause of us but not for us. Just for you, because
of me. Something like that.

Death: I wish He saved me too..

Me: You wouldn't be Death then.

Death: It's frustrating. Believe me. And sad.

Me: If He saved you, would you be called Life?

Death: You haven't met him yet?

Me: So there's this.. Err.. Entity called Life, too?

Death: So you haven't met him.

Death: I'm much kind than him. Life is too harsh.
He's ruthless.

Me: That I can comprehend.

Death: I still wish He saved me,too. I'm still hoping
that He'll save me..

Me: When I talk to Him, I'll mention that.

Death: Isn't it that I have to die first for me to
receive His grace? That's what I have read in the
Bible. You have to die to your self, your desires.

Me: You read the Bible?

Death: I thought I've made it clear that I have an
affinity for Thy Savior. It's in Romans.

Me: Where did you get your Bible? Which reminds
me.. I guess I forgot where I placed mine.

Death: . . .

Death: Sorry.

Me: I've been looking for that for so long!

Death: You have?

Death: You didn't even notice it's gone.

Me: Stalker.

Death: Anyway, I said it's on Romans.

Me: That's true.

Death: New creation. New life, but not Life. He's
horrid, I think I've mentioned that earlier.

Death: Uhm, hey.. Can you please help me die?

lester tan

Labing-siyam na segundo. Higit pa kaya ‘yon do’n? Hindi ko alam. Alam ko lang gusto kong manatlili do’n. Labing-siyam na segundo.. Ni hindi ko akalain na mangyayari ang gano’n. Ni hindi sumagi sa isip ko kahit minsan. Oo, puwede nga na paminsan-minsan (O parati?) eh naiisip ko na makakasalubong kita. Sa LRT, sa kalye, sa bilihan ng kape, sa overpass, sa sinehan, sa pila, sa karinderya, sa bilihan ng waffle, sa bilihan ng C2, sa bilihan ng kendi, sa bilihan ng tiket sa tren, sa jeep, sa fx, sa simbahan..

Sa simbahan.

Tapos kaninang pasado alas-sais ay ayun ka. Naka berdeng t-shirt at tsaleko at khakis at tsinelas. Naka-sukbit pa rin ang unggoy na key chain sa bitbit mong bag na green na Adidas. Tumatawid sa harapan ko. Mas mahaba na nga ang buhok mo sa akin. Ang kulit na ang lumanay ng bagsak ng ulan. Ang kulit na parang bumagal ang takbo ng lahat. Totoo pala ‘yon. Akala ko eh ine-editlang nila un sa mga pelikula. Ginagawa lang na drama. Pero hindi pala. Kusa pala talagang bumabagal ang mga pangyayari. Kusa ka palang mapapa-tulala. Hindi pala kunwari yung ulan na pumapatak pag merong nangyayari na gano’n ka-drama. Kusa pala ‘tong nakikipag-laro. Ang kulit na nasa loob ako ng fx at ikaw, naglalakad ng mabagal sa harapan ng sasakyan na para bang binigyan ako ng ilang segundo para matitigan ka ulit. Ang kulit na matapos ang kulang kulang dalawang buwan eh nandiyan ka bigla sa harapan ko nang hindi natin sinadya. Na para bang napagbigyan at napagkatuwaan ng pagkakataon. Na parang gusto kong bumaba at yakapin ka at kamustahin ka at ewan ko kung anu-ano pa. Pero andun ako, nanatili sa kinauupuan ko. Walang magawa. Walang nagawa. Hindi pa rin makapaniwala sa pangyayari.

Hanggang ngayon ay hindi ako makapaniwala sa nangyari.

At parang ang gusto ko lang ngayon eh ang ibalik ang sarili ko sa pagkalunod sa ilang segundo na un.

city hall time, 18:20

Often do we find ourselves looking for things to amaze us
For things so rarely beautiful that it haunts our deepest passions
Lusting for joy and craving for it most evidently
Searching for things that would caress your deepest senses
As if introducing pain and love, and depriving it, too, at the same time
Even instantly.
We soak ourselves in calmness and ecstasy
Trying to bring back days immemorial
Trying to live with both suicide and immortality
And to find the art of beautiful comfort in sadness?
I doubt anyone can try any more harder.

snapped ginger

once again you spend your day dreaming about fairies from a not-so-distant land
of rainy thursday afternoons and warm cacao
of where things would take you,
or where they'd bring you back
of purple inks and black parchment
of sling bags and shooting stars
of brown paper bag memories and yellow brick road destinations
uncertain whether you would want again or not to wake up with the same nostalgic sigh.

mandap

nasaktan ba kita?
patawad na.
di ko sinasadyang asarin ka
o bigyan ka ng pasakit.
o gawing makulay ang mundo ni hades para sa'yo.

intindihin mo naman ako.

pakiramdam - alam ko rin naman kung ano un.
at puro poot ang nakabalot na regalo mo.
hindi na ba talaga ako makakaramdam ng pagmamahal mo?
hindi mo man lang ba kakamustahin kung ayos lang ba ang araw ko?
kahit man lang kung gumagana pa ang washing machine ko?

minsan kasi masyado na ngang magulo.
malabo.
pinagsasalita ka, ayaw mo.
pag ako naman ang magpapaliwanag
sinasabayan mo ako.

minsan
o madalas
nababastos kita.
naisasantabi ko kung sino ka.
ang dignidad mo, napapaanod ko nlng bigla.
nang walang pasin-tabi,
walang pakundangan.

napapahiya kita.
nasasaktan.

pasensiya na talaga.
maayos rin natin ito.
ano bang magagawa ko para maibsan man lang
ang dusa na naidulot ko sa'yo?
sapat na ba ang
uno?

***

epilogue
wishful (o delusional) thinking, ito ay tula para sa'kin gawa ng mga butihin kong propesor at propesora