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.

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.

yellow chucks, sepia mode

if you just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, you've got no idea. if you just want to sleep the rest of your story, uncertain still. how can it be a nightmare when it's one of the best dreams you've ever escaped in to? one of your best dreams, you think. yet to wake up without him.. to wake up without him...

then you stare at the moon that tried to cover your tears the night ago. and you look for the star that's supposed to be shining for you, but find the sky half empty.

and twice its feeling do you stand in your drunken past romance.

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