To the edge and back

It’s Saturday. I slouched on the green couch facing the window. A gentle breeze stirred the tree branches and a soft hustle reverberated in my mind. Somehow, I had the feeling the trees were breathing slowly, quite relaxed at this time of day. It’s half past one o’clock and really, I felt so sleepy. I breathed in and out, out and in and then out trying to imitate how the trees did it.

I pulled out the Field Guide to the Philippine birds that sat on the nearby desk for a long time. I flipped through the pages, inhaling and exhaling, and wondering about the choices I didn’t take. I flipped some more, trying to ID some bird I encountered eons ago. After a while, I gave up, half-throwing the guide back on the desk.

I saw the black ants persisted in building their nest on a stack of untouched scratch papers. I sprayed on them yesterday. But they’re back with the strongest ant will ever and soon, I won’t be surprised if they’d conquered the earth. Such unrelenting folks. They seemed to know what they always wanted and they were always closer to it despite the insecticide rains.

I stood up and walked slowly out the department, down the short descent of stairs. Suddenly, it felt so strenuous taking the steps down. I breathed in and out. A stinging emptiness hung in the air like some disease-causing virus waiting for the smallest chance to attack. I played a happy song in my mind, a mash-up of happy birthday and we wish you a merry Christmas, and hummed through the next steps.

Heartbeats slowed down to normal. I walked out the building into the open light half hopping and then ran through the bridge; the lotus and fish pond slid past me like a decorated glass window. For a second, I doubted that I was even moving. Sometimes I feel so stranded, watching time and space slip by. It’s like sitting on a bus that broke down the road but the scenes out the window continued to change giving you the illusion that you’re going somewhere and that someday, you’ll get there. By midnight, you’d probably realize all the time wasted sitting there. You’d feel so terrible that even the only comfort you can ever have, like stargazing, breaks your heart.

But I guess I covered some distance; I found myself in front of the Café counter. I pulled a fifty-peso bill out my pocket, dropping some coins on the floor, and bought a big pack of CheeseRings and a small carton of Pretzels ten percent off the price (or overprice). I picked my coins on the floor and somewhat scanned the environs just to be sure I never missed a penny. I thought of sitting around the deck for a while to appreciate the sunlight. But I missed the green couch already.

There seemed to be some drama in small steps and slow pace. I pretended that I have all the time in the world and decided to indulge in the thought. The lotus plants were getting prettier everyday but the fish were gnawing on their leaves. Switchfoot’s Love and Life and Why played from beyond this world and I was compelled to look up the clouds. I partially expected to see some place or face in the cloud formation but I didn’t. So, I laughed at myself.

The climb upstairs was easy and fast, taking two steps a time. By the time I was myself again, I was already slouched on the green couch stuffing my mouth with the junk. The trees hushed like they’re dead. Three yellow-wattled bulbuls flew into some tree from a direction and started pecking on its pea-sized fruits. The birds were chirpy and happy and fluttery but in a blink, they were gone like they never, ever existed.

I thought of writing something like you or me and stuffs that would change the world. I picked my new favorite black spring notebook named Computer and scribbled “It’s Saturday…”