The Buzzing Flowerpecker Show

LOA

2009-10-28T09:35:00.004+08:00

I don't need to bare my soul for the whole wide world to see since all the world is blind. It's time once again to crawl into my invisible cocoon; it was too cold and harsh outside. I'm taking a leave from so much thinking in five....four...three...two....

Taym machine

2009-10-26T18:10:00.005+08:00

Nakita mo na ba ang padala kong taym machine?
Humayo ka na at balikan mga nakaraan.
Itama, ang lahat nang sabi mo'y mali.
Kung sakali mang magtagumpay ka,
balitaan mo naman ako.
Sumulat ka,
Dahil hindi mo na ako aabutan dun.

Bakit hindi na lang kasi ngayon?
o kaya'y kahit bukas.
Isang sakay lang ng jeep ang pagitan.
Hindi pa magawan ng paraan.

Nakita mo na ba ang padala kong taym machine?
Balikan mo na sya.
Matagal na akong umalis sa panahong yan.
Wala na siguro akong mararamdaman.

Bakit hindi na lang kasi ngayon?
o kaya'y kahit bukas.
Isang salita lang marahil ang pagitan.
Hindi pa magawan ng paraan.

Haunting

2009-10-15T21:21:00.007+08:00

This idea of you,

That idea of me

rose like firewalls piercing

the sky and we become

pelagic phantoms of each other,

presence neither confirmed nor denied.

Surely I'll catch you someday,

Only then can I truly let you go.

You were there

I am here.

Feelings set against differing timelines.

I may have missed you out then,

But that was when I have you the most.

And we become each other's pelagic phantoms--

presence neither confirmed nor denied.

Legends of us were written

in stars, in dust

But were never told

and never will be.

Peculiar events

2009-10-11T16:53:00.004+08:00

Missed call

Yesterday, October 10, around 7:30 in the morning, my office mate, room mate and friend Jo woke up showing me her phone and asking why on earth would I try to call her when we even slept in the same bed. True enough, my number appeared on her "missed calls" but i really never tried calling her. Maybe, I dialed her number during my sleep so I double checked with my phone. She was listed in my dialed numbers but the time of call was several days ago.

I haven't been myself lately. For some unexplainable reason, I felt sad (not depressed). Something heavy seemed to hang from my shoulders. I tried meditating and all those soul-searching stuff...but i really can't pinpoint a single reason for the strange heaviness. Certainly it wasn't about work, school or money...although those three were kind of bugging me, I never flagged them as "problems."

Black swallow tail moth

Tired of a whole day's class, I still dropped by the office to check mails and to submit academic requirements via email. In between attachments, I was facebooking ang chatting online with some friends. Then, a black swallow tail moth flew in through the window...circled over the place and lodged unmoving under my chair. I don't believe in superstitions as that would be unchristian and all. But, I have my own dose of the unexplainable...particularly in death-related stuffs. The creeps I felt at that moment was strong enough but my faith in God who had conquered death was stronger. Since I was a child, I had been taught that prayers dispel all fears and it definitely did.

Doppelganger in Facebook

Intrigued by my friend's report about how fun Zynga's Cafe World is...I decided to try the application. With a quich tutorial and coaches from friends, I managed to start with my cyber restaurant. The application operates like most of FB's previous games like farmtown, yoville, barn buddy, farmville, pet society and etc. In these apps, people assume a cyber character. In the case of Cafe world, one assumes the character of a chef, waiter or a customer. In the game, I was cooking something when some customer walked in and with a name same as mine. Pointing the cursor to that character, my profile picture appeared...which means that I was a chef and a customer at the same time. The two cyber characters never looked alike. My chef character had a lighter skin and brown bobbed hair. The customer character had dark brown skin and long, black hair. Consulting my friend, she never experienced that phenomenon. She's on level 9 already and was using the app for quite a while now. Doppelgangers are associated with death...I don't know if this too applies to cyber doppelgangers.

But that doesn't matter. Not at all. Because I know, I will have a long and fruitfull life.

2009-10-10T19:50:00.004+08:00

Lord, there's so much in this world I can't grasp. But I know you've got me in your loving hands and the thought of it is more than enough to let me know that though I feel like I'm falling...I know I'm not falling apart.

I confess that my heart is troubled because I failed to look to you as you have always instructed. But I know your grace abounds and I can't be thankful enough each time you find me after I have lost my way.

I pray Lord, that you'll humble me and make me stay under your wings forever. Allow my heart to listen, allow my eyes to see , and allow my mind to understand your awesome plan. Do not let my pain and the pain of others blind me of your great beauty. Instead, draw all these pain and let me cry for I know I will be comforted. And regrets are not what you hold for me; in your time, I know that all you have promised will be done.

Strengthen me Lord for the long wait; your kingdom is near. In the end of these all, I always know where I want to be.

Minus

2009-10-07T18:36:00.003+08:00

And we often find ourselves

in the sensible things we do.

But if I'd stay here just eyeing stars

and consuming air and being me,

will I matter to this earth?
And all them good people would surely
say yes...
But if that is the case,
why am I feeling otherwise?

Header Erase

2009-10-05T17:37:00.004+08:00

Sa dagat ang tuloy ng tulay na ito. Huwag tumalon, nakakamatay.

Mulat ang mata. Hindi. Dilat ang mata. Wala rin namang muta pero kahit na. May ilang linggo nang hindi makatulog mula nang ibasura ng mga bosing ang pinakamagandang kanta sa balat ng lupa. Tama. Hindi nila tinanggap ang kanta kong pinamagatang "Tindahan ni Aling Gloria" kahit pa alam nating ito ang pinaka-original na kanta sa buong mundo. Mantakin mo, true to layp pa naman ang pagkagawa ko dun sa kanta...pero di pa rin umubra. Tama nga ako. Walang hustisya sa mundo para sa mga katulad kong artist. Parang gusto kong tawagin mula sa hukay si Van Gogh at makipag-apir sa kanya nang wanhundred tayms.

Natatandaan ko ang araw na yun. The sun was shining so bright at parang kahit maging aircon na ang buong mundo...mainit pa rin. Parang gusto kong maglupasay sa kalye at magpasagasa ng truck. Baon na baon na ako sa utang na pera at utang na loob...at dahil na-reject na naman ang obra ko...hindi ko na alam kung paano bayaran ang lahat ng problema ko sa buhay. Nang aktong sasagasaan na ako ng pison, dumating si spiderman...ang best friend ng lahat.

Nagtanong sya kung ano ang drama ko sa buhay. At nagkwento naman ako kahit alam ko namang wala sa kanya ang kasagutan. Nasa tuktok na kami ng isang punong niyog at medyo mahangin. Hindi ko alam kung paano nakapag-produce ng gitara si Spiderman basta bigla na lang nangyari yun. Muntik na akong mahulog nang sya'y kumanta. Dahil kinanta nya'y "Tindahan ni Aling Nena."

Tinanong nya kung bakit ganun na lang ako kung matulala. Hindi nga naman ganun kasi kaganda ang boses niya. Tinanong ko sya kung sinong magagaling ang sumulat ng kantang inawit nya. Sabi niya...eraserheads. Naisip ko sino na naman ang boyband na iyan?! Lahat na lang inaagaw ng mga boyband...sila ang laman ng TV. Sila ang laman ng radyo. Sila ang nasa magazine. Si Spiderman na naman ang natulala. Bigla na lang syang naglabas ng sapot at iniwan ako sa tuktok ng niyog.

kaya simula nun...ayoko nang marinig ang eraserheads kahit kelan sa buhay ko. Pakiramdam ko...ipinagpalit na ako ng lahat sa eraserheads. Bukas, magtatatag ako ng girlband...Header Erase ang pangalan. hmpf!

Tindahan ni Aling Gloria

2009-09-26T13:09:00.007+08:00

Pinilit kong igawa ng kanta ang sarili. Naisip ko na yata lahat nang posibleng tema, istorya, at takbo para dun pero parang nawalan ng kuryente ang electric guitar ko sa utak kaya't di ako makalikha ng tono. At kapag ganitong parang kinukulang na sa asukal ang brain cells ko, kelangan ko nang magpa-rescue sa kapangyarihan ng Coke...as in coca-cola...open happiness.

Saan pa nga ba ako makakabili ng inuming sagana sa mga bonggang-bonggang essential nutrients and minerals kundi sa nag-iisang tindahan sa neighborhood...ang tindahan ni aling Gloria. Lahat nang bibilhin mo dito ay may free...free chismis. Kaya gustung-gusto kong nabili sa tindahan niya kahit kelangang kumatok sa loob ng isang milenyo dahil nanonood pa siya ng wowowee kung tanghali at tayong dalawa kung gabi. Alam kong hindi ko na mababago ang katauhan niya. Kaya ako na lang nag-isip ng solusyon para naman hindi ko sya maabala at nakakahiya nga naman sa isang napaka-busyng tao tulad niya.

Swerte at alas tres na nang hapon. Malamang tapos na ang wowowee kaya medyo limang dekada na lang ang gugugulin ko sa kakakatok. Isang dekadang tao po. Walang nasagot. Dalawang dekadang tao po at one level-up ang volume. Wala pa ring nasagot. Tatlong dekadang tao po, dalawang level-up sa volume at sanlibong pokpok ng bato sa kahoy na tindahan. Lumabas si Aling Gloria na matulis ang nguso. Naalala ko na. Paborito rin pala niya ang Kambal sa Uma, Maria de Hesus, TV Patrol Southern Mindanao at UAAP. In fairness kay Aling Gloria, hindi naman sya masyadong jologs.

"Sanlitrong Coke po," sabi ko sabay abot kay aling Gloria ng bote at bayad. Tumalikod ang ale at maya-maya'y bumalik na dala ang aking peborit.

"Ay di ba ikaw yung kaklase ni Mikey," paninigurado ni aling Gloria. Alam kong bibigyan na naman nya ako ng fresh na fresh na chismis.

Tumango ako at ngumiti saka ko idinagdag na X ko ang bakulaw na binanggit niya. Parang nagulat naman dun sa Aling Gloria. Parang hindi niya mawari kung bakit may nakalusot sa radar niya. Pero humirit pa rin sya at parang mas lalong na-excite sa pagbabalita.

"Aba'y nakabuntis daw pala ang batang yun..." pa-thrilling na kwento ng ale. "Kawawa naman yung mommy nya. Pinag-aral pa yung anak sa mahal na skwelahan tapos eto lang ang nangyari. Mabait, matalino at mayaman nga naman sila. Sino ba namang hindi magpapabuntis dun sa hirap ng buhay ngayon...pero kawawa naman yung mga magulang...maraming pangarap para sa kanya."

Kung titingnan mo ang mukha ni Aling Gloria, iisipin mo nga naman talaga na awang-awa sya sa mga magulang ni Mikey. Parang maiiyak ka nga kapag nakita mong pasinghut-singhot pa sya na parang may running nose. Akala ko nga may namatay dahil labis ang pagdra-drama niya.

"Ako po ang nabuntis niya," mahinang bulong ko. Pero dahil nga well-adapted itong si aling Gloria sa pangangalap ng chismis, nagpanting ang tenga niya sa bulong ko at parang daig pa niya ang naghilamos ng maxipeel, nawala lahat nang dugo niya sa mukha. May hiya din naman si aling Gloria.

Hinablot ko ang sanlitrong coke mula sa mga kamay nya. Mahirap na baka maibagsak pa niya...no return no exchange pa naman sa tindahan nya. Parang di pa rin maalis ni Aling Gloria sa hangin ang dalawang kamay habang nakatingin sa akin.

"Joke lang yun Aling Gloria, kayo naman. Umiinit na kasi yung coke sa kakakwento nyo," sabi ko habang pinipigil ang tawa. Hindi ko na nilingon ulit ang ale. Baka may hawak na syang tsinelas at ibato niya sa akin...tamaan pa ako sa mukha. Sira pa ang beauty ko.

Mahirap nga naman kasi ang chismis...halong totoo at kasinungalingan. Pakiramdam ko parang nanalo ako sa lotto. Naisahan ko si Aling Gloria...ang pinakamakapangyarihang bunganga sa neighborhood. Ang totoo kasi niyan, hindi ko kilala yung mikey.

Binalikan ko ang notebook at lapis. Matapos lumagok ng dalawang basong Coke...open happiness...may naisip na akong kanta. Sa wakas, may isu-submit na ako sa mga boss. Susuweldo na ulit ako.

Hindi ko na mahintay ang Days off!!!!

2009-09-16T18:33:00.003+08:00

Pagod at masakit ang ulo ko. Sino bang hindi sasakit ang ulo sa pakiramdam na parati akong busy pero wala naman akong natatapos? Parati akong kulang sa oras pero marami naman akong oras na hindi nagagamit? haist.

Kelangan ko na talagang mag-day off at kumain at matulog nang walang iniisip na trabaho. Pati sa panaginip ko ay hinahabol na ako ng mga monster reports sa skwela at sa trabaho. Napapanaginipan ko na ang matamis na singkong maliwanang sa unang semestre ko sa masters. Napapanaginipan ko na ang lahat nang galit at inis ko sa buhay. Masakit na ang balikat ko kahut uisang maliit lang na bag ang nakasabit dito. Masakit ang likod ko at madalas ay nagigising ako sa madaling araw at nahihirapan na uli matulog. OO. Pagod ako...at hindi ito emotional na pagod na parang nabasted ka lang ng sanlibong beses, o kaya nama'y na brokenhearted. Ito ay pisikal na kapaguran na kelangan na talagang ipahinga. Parang awa na nilang dapat maawa.

ANg totoo, masyado akong concerned sa lahat ng bagay. Indifferent ako sa mga tao pero sa sitwasyon hindi. Kaya kung kinakailangan ng isang sitwasyon na magtrabaho ako na parang magugunaw na ang mundo bukas...in fairness...masyado akong OA at nakakapagtrabaho nga naman ako. dinadaan ko na lang sa caffeine rush. Painum-inom lang ng coke at ng kung ano mang me-asukal.

Ngayong araw kinulang na nga ata ako sa asukal. Ang pait ng tingin ko sa mundo. I'm so tired na para bang habambuhay na akong hindi nakapagpahinga. In fairness naman sa akin, hindi ko kinakailangan ng isang dekadang pahinga. Hindi isang buwan. Hindi rin isang linggo. Kahit tatlong araw lang na hindi ko na mapapanaginipan ang lahat nang kelangan kong tapusin...ok na ako.

Sabi ko nga sa tatay ko isang araw : 'Tay, pagud na pagod ako. Kelan ka ba yayaman para di ko na kailangang kumayod.'

Hindi ako masipag, nagsisipag-sipagan, o nagpapaka-bayani. OA lang talaga ako at hindi natatahimik pagka may mga hindi natapos. Di bale nang wala akong masimulan...wag lang may hindi ako matapos. Mas masakit sa likod ko iyon.

Tic-tac...

2009-09-05T22:18:00.004+08:00

I only have this night to finish my concept paper in advanced microbial eco. Yet, I have more words for this blog than for that bugging requirement. Surely, I enjoyed the first few weeks of being a first year student again. But at this very moment with eyes aching for more hours of sleep, ears waiting for more time of shun-reminding music, and soul longing for comforts of home...I regret getting myself all these academic headache. I could have sipped milk and dream for the rest of the night instead of drinking 1.5 liters of coke and intentionally get caffeine overdose...and destroy my kidneys, of course.

The stars weren't enough to remind me that my life is more than broken schedules, back pains and could-have-beens. I need some push right now...just a little encouragement...and some help...a facebook shoutout from shun who'd probably keep me hooked on the net...and on this computer can do the magic. But I know, somewhere, he's asleep and dreaming of his sunshine.

So much for this. Ideas for the paper are rushing into my head now. Wish I'd be over this by midnight....I want to sleep!!!

Shun

2009-08-28T20:54:00.004+08:00

Nagsimula ang lahat sa isang pangalan. Binanggit ng hangin ang pangalan at ito'y naging alaala. Sinira ng panahon ang alaala at ito'y naging isang salita...ngunit ang salitang iyon ay isang pangalan.

Umayos ka na Shun. Hinihintay ko ang araw na bumalik ka na sa dati...yung Shun na parating nagtataas ng watawat ng Pilipinas...

Isang Araw

2009-08-24T21:37:00.003+08:00

Gaano karaming sekreto ang pwede mong malaman sa isang araw? At gaano karaming katotohanan ang hindi mo kayang tanggapin?

Haaaay. sanga-sangang lablayp. Maya-maya ay iisipin ko kung papano nagagawa ng ibang tao ang saktan ang mga sarili nila at ang mga taong...sabi nila'y mahal nila. Hindi ako maka-get over sa dami nang mga naudlot na love stories sa aming small circle...at kung papano...ako na si great spectator ay na-shock, nainis, at naiyak para sa mga taong itinuri kong kaibigan.

***
nakakapagod ngunit nakakatuwa naman ang isang araw sa paligid ng mga elementary students...sa kabila ng mga nangagkahalong amoy...sa kabila ng natulong mga pawis...iba pa rin yung feeling ng kabataan...yung tipong cute ka pa rin kahit saksakan ka ng pasaway.

***
Siguro nga'y nagbago na ako. Medyo naging palakaibigan, naging sociable, at pala-kwento na rin. Pero sa kabila nito'y mas gugustuhin ko pa ring manahimik na lang sa gilid. Walang obligasyong kausapin ang mga tao. Walang kinakailangang ngitian. Gusto ko lang tumambay sa isang tabi...manood ng ulap...walang kelangan sabihin...walang kelangan sabihin...manonood lang ako ng ulap...ng ulap...ng langit...ng dagat kung merong dagat...ng gubat kung may gubat...ng bulaklak kung may bulaklak.

***
kelangan kong umayos.

Inspirasyon

2009-08-17T19:26:00.005+08:00

Sa pagod ko ngayong buwan na ito, ngayon lang ulit nabuhay ang dugo ko...na parang may kakaibang rush na naman. Kahit busy sa buong araw, napawi lahat nang himutok ko sa buhay nang malaman kong....YES! PUPUNTA AKO NG PAGBILAO, QUEZON! Woohooo! Isang lugar na naman sa mapa ng Pilipinas ang mamarkahan ko.

Ang totoo, una kaming nagkakilala ni Pagbilao nung ginagawa ko ang powerpoint presentation ng magaling kong kapatid na HRM. Pinag-research ba naman ako ng tourist destinations...at yun nga...isa sa mga nai-cut and paste ko ay ang beach resorts sa Pagbilao, Quezon.

At gaya ng mga unang pakiramdam, tungkol sa mga bagay na parang imposible mong makuha, inisnob ko ang beauty ni Pagbilao at never ko syang pinagpantasyahan. Parang nawala na nga sya sa isip ko... Pero dahil nga destined na kaming magkita, aba, gumawa si fate ng kakaibang paraan....

Oo na. Ano ngayon kung trabaho ang ipinunta ko sa Pagbilao? Basta ba pwede akong mag-side trip why not? At dahil minsan lang ako makalabas ng lungga...syempre hindi ko alam paano pumunta dun (kaya nga mas exciting). Pero salamat sa google at laging may solusyon ang ating mga problema.=)

Isa na namang umaatikabong hanapan ng mga kalye at mga lugar. Sana, tuluyan nang mag-improve ang aking sense of direction. Kelangan ko ang training na to. Ako kasi yung tipong nakaplano ang lahat...pero ngayon handang-handa na ako sa mga hindi nakaplanong biyahe at hindi siguradong mga destinasyon. At handa ko itong gawing...MAG-ISA!=)

Kaya, see you Pagbilao! You really made my day!

*Sana may magandang beach na 30 minutes away lang...hehe..at hindi expensive.

Stress at alcohol

2009-08-15T18:11:00.002+08:00

Alcohol Guide:

Tanduay: para sa panaginip na action-packed (basagan ng mukha at away hanggang umaga)
Beer: para sa sweet dreams at labstory
Tuba: para sa horror at mala-okatokat na mga bungang-tulog (aswang at manananggal)

Pero kahit anong alcohol pa yan...never akong naging solbs sa anti-stress kuno na property nito. Hmpf!

Pagud na pagod ako at tuyo na ang utak. Bukas, linggong maliwanag...pero may kelangan pa rin akong tapusin. Hmpf!

Di maka-text sa pamilya...di maka-text sa friends....walang ibang laman ang inbox kundi mga to DOs ang to DOs...wala man lang ni isang inspiring na quote....di makauwi...di makapaglaba....walang mapanaginipan liban sa trabaho...

Pagkatapos ng lahat nang bundok at ilog...anong buhay kaya ang ikukuwento ko sa ibang tao?

Gusto ko naman ang ginagawa ko...pero hindi ang paraan kung paano ko ito ginagawa. May oras ang lahat nang bagay...kaya sa susunod...para hindi makuha ang oras para sa kasiyahan at para sa ibang pangangailangan...at para sa pahinga....matutong magplano ng maayos...at magtrabaho ayun sa time frame...hmpf! Still, dapat maging handa para sa mga unexpected.

See you soon Sierra Madre! Magcecelebrate ako ng sariling kadayawan festival!

Gloom

2009-08-05T13:30:00.003+08:00

07:02 am. Perhaps, I have to examine leaves today and see whether their intricate venation left me some message. Yesterday, the afternoon sun looked like a giant piece of gold and though it was beautiful, I never found the inspiration I was looking for.

Today, something in the morning was quite upsetting. While recalling dreams in the night, my memory held only few scenes incoherent enough to disqualify as a story. Trees were honest fellows, so maybe I should go see what they are telling me.

09:35 am. The trees were silent. I have waited long enough for them to speak of mysteries that hold this earth together but there wasn't a sound. The birds refused to make a comment, too. They just gave me a quick nod and fluttered away. Not a soul would speak to me and the morning felt ten times colder.

13:01 pm. Everything is quick to fade. Glass windows continued to separate me from things. I thought I could see a better view of the world from a higher point...

Wrong way

2009-07-22T20:42:00.004+08:00

Moon please fall,
and fall right on my face.
Guitar's away and Keyboard's not here.
Little Songbird's missing me,
but I can't be there.

What should a busy flowerpecker do?
In the hopes of getting somewhere,
she's got to fly away.

There's a mountain out there,
one she sees frequently in her dreams.
She desires to go there somewhere,
only the paths don't seem to take her there.

What should a busy flowerpecker do?
Her throat had dried and not a song would come out.
Guitar's away and Keyboard's not here.
Little song bird's missing me...
but I can't be there.

Oh moon please fall.
Fall straight on my face.

Remembering

2009-07-18T10:38:00.006+08:00

It was a good day, still. To Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag, it was still a good day. She was fired from her job for the nth time. And as she made her famous last look at the building she considered a mind jail, the sun was setting on her back. Thinking it was highly dramatic, she smiled to herself and secretly hoped that some Prince Charming would see her so beautifully backlighted and fall in love with her. That way, she would live happily ever after.

She packed her modest belongings into three bags, careful not to leave anything but dust in the humble, little room she rented for two months. She piled her books neatly in one big box, but after putting in the last one, she would feel that a book was missing and so she emptied the box again to double check. It took her two hours to secure the box again.

The taxi would be the last luxury she would give herself for the day. Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag knew that for the next few months or weeks, if she’s lucky, she would definitely live on a tight budget. But with all the things she was to carry home, she could imagine herself being ridiculed if she would ride a jeepney.

The weather bureau, PAGASA, announced that summer already ended. But the night was beautiful and warm; the silver new moon with its blank face was so bright that Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag thought it was right inside the taxi. The night sky was full of stars too, and though not a single one was falling, she made her wishes.

Earlier that day, their company announced that because of the Global economic crisis, it could not keep all of their employees. Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag shrugged at that because ever since the world began, or at least from the first day she joined the working force, there was never a year without crisis. She loved to think that her boss was just so dim-witted to blame the Global crisis instead of the gross mismanagement which made the company’s bankruptcy inevitable.

“We are here, miss. We are here,” the driver’s voice brought her back from her thoughts to the back seat of the taxi. Indeed, they had arrived at the Davao Overland Transport Terminal. Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag pulled a crisp 100-peso bill form her wallet and handed it to the driver.

“But Miss, you’ve paid already.”

Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag would have laughed if only she never saw the driver’s face. “What? When?”

“Earlier,” the man said. The old man’s voice was so certain but his face was actually confused. Ms. Gretchen would have loved to save a hundred pesos, but she knew she never paid yet, and that the amount would cost the old man 3 kilos of rice. She insisted on giving him the bill but the old man refused to take it.

“Just get off,” the old man sounded annoyed and yet something in his face bothered Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag. She thought the old man must be ill with some sort of a memory disorder. It took her time to unload her things, but she never felt muscle strain until the taxi went off.

At the same time, porters were rushing to pick her things and before they crowd her she found herself walking towards the entrance of the terminal, leaving four people arguing about her baggage.

The air conditioned bus to Tagum City was already starting to leave by the time Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag entered the terminal. It was already 8:45 in the evening and the next air conditioned bus would only leave thirty minutes after. It would only take two hours to travel home and 12 pm was never that late. However, Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag wanted to watch her favorite late night weekend soap opera around 11 pm. She was watching that program for a month now, and tonight was the last episode.

“Wait!” she was running after the bus and it did stop. Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag saw the porters rushing to her side with all her things. But it doesn’t look like those guys were so concerned about her leaving the things behind. They would not want boxes of God-knows-what. She thought, they were probably afraid she won’t be able to pay them.

Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag scrambled towards the bus but when the bus door opened, the bus attendant shook her head. “I’m sorry ma’am, we can’t take you in.” There was some sort of frown in the woman’s face.

“What? Is that a joke? The bus isn’t even full,” screeched Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag. Although she wasn’t sure that something weird was happening, she sensed the bad vibes. “Let me in.”

There was something so weird in the way the bus attendant turned her back. Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag didn’t have the wits to understand it at all but she definitely felt the creeps. Before she could even protest, the bus was off.

Even until the time that Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag was already seated in the next bus, she wasn’t able to think what exactly was wrong with everyone; the taxi driver won’t accept the fare, the bus attendant won’t let her in, and the porters, who were initially so concerned with money, helped her out with her things for free as they were so sorry about the first bus.

Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag actually asked herself when things suddenly seemed to be both working and not working for her at a time. It was always one or the other. It wasn’t both.

“Where to, miss?” the bus attendant asked her. Again, there was something creepy in the woman’s voice. She punched some holes on the ticket and handed it to Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag who was becoming more confused than ever. Why would the bus attendant know where exactly she’s headed? How come the woman cared to ask if she already knew?

“There is something in the night wind, don’t you think,” an old woman seated herself beside Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag.

The old woman smiled and there’s that creeps again in Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag’s spine. She was reminded of many fairytales and the many witches in those tales. Still, she tried to return the smile and finally for the first time in the entire evening, she felt the courage to oppose.

“There isn’t something. The night wind’s not even here,” she said wryly without looking at the old stranger beside her. There was only silence after that and Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag couldn’t think of anything but sleep. And so she slept but not for a very long time.

“We are here, miss. We are here,” the bus attendant was shaking her lightly and she can’t help but get irritated by it. “Get off, now.”

Although she did not realize it, Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag seemed to be under a spell. She stood without really waking, grabbed her bag and ordered the bus attendant to help her with her things. But when she finally stepped out of the bus, the bus attendant had the door closed immediately.

“Hey! My things!” Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag panicked. But the bus was already a long way off. She was now fully awake and aware that she was nowhere. She closed her eyes and started to knock her own head. “This is all stupid.”
She waited for anything, for anyone to come. From time to time, she grumbled to herself. What kind of highway this is? Why did they drop me here? Shouldn’t there be a ghost here to talk to?

“We are here, miss. We are here,” said a couple of voices from behind her. She jumped a bit. She heard that line three times now and she somehow expected that something weird was with it.

“Were you ghosts?” Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag snapped. She was surprised to see four men in tuxedos in a Philippine highway. If they were goons, they should’ve poked her side with something sharp right away. She really thought they were supernatural but she was way too irritated to be scared.

“Please come with us,” one of the tuxedo guys, the tallest of them, inched towards her. Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag backed off a bit although the guy seemed to be courteous in a very odd way. “We have orders.”

She couldn’t help her mouth from opening wide. All this time, she was really punked. Whoever was behind this prank, she swore to never forgive. “On whose orders? Were you guys some kind of intelligence or underground something?”

But the guys only looked at her as if she was some helpless victim willing to be dragged. Two of them pulled her by the arm to some distance and pushed her inside a black car. Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag realized that she never even noticed that there was a car somewhere near. Why do things and people came popping out of nowhere?

Everything in Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag’s life had been real. She was the sort of girl whose fantasies only revolved around TV soap operas. But, not a while ago, events seemed to have some twisted touch. As Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag sat sandwiched in between two thugs in tuxedos, she somehow felt that maybe, it was the start of some excitement in her life.

There was a ring. The tallest of the tuxedo guys picked up his phone. “Everything’s clear. We’re almost there.” Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag watched the guy slid his phone to his pocket and begin to realize something and laughed.

“What is that phone? Aren’t you guys supposed to use all those techy stuffs that CSIs use?”

The tallest of the guys sighed. He had a very serious face and immediately, Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag knew that he didn’t like the joke. “You watch too much TV, miss” said the guy.

No one seemed to talk for hours until they came to a house which was sort of grand in everyway except for the Christmas lights which hung on almost the entire structure. It was too Disneyland-ish. “What did they do to the house?”

Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag was so disappointed to see a beautiful house wrapped up in cheap yellow Christmas lights. Everything looked so bright against a very dark landscape. It was almost midnight.

“He’s waiting,” the tallest of the tuxedo thugs ushered Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag inside the house. She stepped into a circular hall, looked up and saw that the sky was the hall’s very own ceiling. For the first time that night, she liked something.

There was somebody somewhere. The tallest tuxedo thug immediately left when that presence was felt and Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag felt that creeps again.

“It’s been a long time.”
Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag turned her head and scanned the hall. At first she saw no one but, as the clouds moved and moonlight entered the hall, she saw at once a figure standing as if he’d conquered the world.

“Welcome back,” the figure said. At that, Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag’s brows arched. What did he say? What’s welcome back? Haven’t been here.

“You left, a very long time ago and there wasn’t a day I never waited for you,” the figure said it as if it explained any of the weird events that night.

Anyway, that was corny and Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag thought she’d die laughing. She dropped her bag on the floor and inched forward the stranger.

“Are you crazy or something?” She inched even closer. She never liked the idea of being wherever she is, and being with seemingly imaginary people and missing the last episode of her favorite soap. “This must make you come to your senses…you got the wrong girl,” she said and immediately after that prepared to launch a right hook on the figure.

The wind blew hard and clouds went away and moonlight streamed on the figure’s face. Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag’s right hook stopped in midair. She saw the face she couldn’t hurt. The figure was her first love.

Ten years ago, they’ve met in some college soccer field. They were classmates in some PE class. He introduced himself after kicking some ball and hitting Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag in the face. Months later, they were inseparable or at least, Ms. Gretchen thought so. But when Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag’s best bud Clarisse became interested in him, they’ve been worlds apart.

“This isn’t funny, Red.” Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag withdrew her hand and stood closely against him. The figure, which she called Red, seemed to have come from a distant world. He was staring at Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag without a hint of any emotion.

“Who is Red? Everyone was gone, duck-face. Your Red was gone.”

Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag looked up and saw that the figure who was once Red had now become somebody else. There seemed to be smoke coming into the hall which only blurs everything more. She tried to recall who first called her duck-face. When she figured it out, she looked at the figure once again and saw that it was he whom she remembered.

“What the…who are you? Why are you wearing faces? Is this your idea of a horror movie, huh?” Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag whimpered when she felt that the figure that was once Red and was now somebody else held her shoulders tightly. “Let go!”

“This is what you want in your heart. That somebody would come and sweep you off your feet.”

Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag brushed off the figure’s hand on her shoulders. She swore that if what was happening was some you-got-punked-show, then she wanted it all to be over now. She wanted the cameras revealed all at once.

“How could they run a show like this,” Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag’s nose was flaring. She wasn’t a pretty girl and she only got worse if she was angered. “You are trying so hard to be some Prince Charming.”

The figure walked across the room in dream-like manner. If only, its face doesn’t contort, then he would have made a nice Prince Charming. Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag wondered where some show got its concept and its pathetic actor. And why would it involve a jobless girl from some little city? Sometimes, she couldn’t help but think that maybe this was some prank in the internet that she took so seriously which eventually got her signed up to some dating stuff.

“You are right. I’m Prince Charming. Every girl’s romantic hope,” the figure said and now he was kneeling in front of Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag. From watching too much soap operas, she knew that the next thing would be this guy presenting her some ring from a box. She grew sick just thinking of it. Her tears were welling up on her eyes and the last thing she knew was that she tried to kick the figure but it was quick in evading.

“Stop being that kind of girl. Why would you do that to Prince Charming?” the figure smiled mischievously and every inch of his face hinted some sort of sarcasm. “You wished for me in every star. You called my name in the wind. Stop acting like you never want me. Years and years of your tears brought me here.”

Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag thought she’d die hearing those cheesy stuffs. The figure was circling, and circling around her; every minute the closer. “What do you want? White horse? Grand castle? Truth? Lies? I’ll show you everything. Just marry me,” said the figure. He said it as if all the skies would suddenly open. It was so creepy to hear.

“Why don’t you just show your fangs, Prince Charming? So that I won’t have to kick your face in its beautiful state.” Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag found it really awkward saying those words. She really thought that the whole event was televised and that viewers were now laughing at her corny statements.

The figure who was once Red, who was also somebody else and was now Prince Charming, laughed the kind of laugh you won’t like to hear in the dark. “Ah, people change!”

There was blue smoke in the hall again. It was so blue that it seemed like Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag was floating in some sky.

“Still, I don’t believe you have forgotten me,” remarked Prince Charming. At that moment, things happened. More blue smoke rose in the air and MS. Gretchen Q. Salag was coughing and suffocating. Her vision blurred and she felt dizzy and/or floating. “Say you do remember me…”

Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag knew that her eyes were closed. Yet, at the same moment she was wide awake in another time. Everything was so yellow and brown and old. She saw two kids on a wooden bridge; hand in hand and laughing gaily while watching sparrows dart across the yellow afternoon sky. The smell of rivers and Narra blooms hang in the air. Ms. Gretchen Q. Salag remembered now; in the beginning, there was only her and him and no one else.

Waves and experiments

2009-07-09T13:53:00.003+08:00

They wanted to define me; to know every cell, nerve and thought which makes me. They attached electrodes, wires and hoses, any imaginable machine all over my frail body. Once, they’ve shown a picture of me tangled in wires and things and I thought how nice it would be without all those mess. They made me draw things, force me say something about anything— about life, sea and stars. They took notes and marked the chart named “Progress” while I watched drawn lines grew steeper. Everyday has always been like that.

But, one day, they took me to the sea to watch the waves; they’d like to see if I could count them all. The sun had just squeezed out of the horizon and a little gold spattered across the sky. I remembered father, now gone, telling me about God and I realized I did like God as child and I miss liking him so much. The salt spray got into my eyes and soon tears streamed down my face. The youngest of the scientist was beside me that time and I saw him scribble the word tears in his yellow notebook. He watched the waves too, until he can’t bear the sight of them. He stood up and wheeled my chair away from the shore. He said it was getting hot. I never saw the sea or the young scientist since then. If I had learned to love, I could have earned a heartache.

They attached more and more electrodes until I technically became some part of an external machine. They kept track of my “Progress” and everyone seemed to smile as I solve more mysteries for them. Satisfaction marked their faces and for a moment they looked like vampires who had just preyed on the best of blood. I hear them whisper to each other words that seemed to hang in the air. I hear those words over and over again. I was perfect.

Until some peculiar noise from the machine startled my once peaceful world. People were suddenly rushing to me and it took them a short time to swarm over me. Some pulled the electrodes, while others add another types of those. More and more machines were brought. I was injected with orange, green and red fluids. Everything blurred and every part of me ached like hell. There were frantic looks on all their proud faces but none of them seemed to really figure out what was happening to me or how painful everything was.

I held the soul-containing crystal box in my hand while the youngest of the scientists wheeled my chair along the shore. It felt good seeing him again after what seemed to be a very long time. The sun squeezed itself down the horizon and gold splattered across the sky. I remembered God and I know I liked him now and salt sprays got into my eyes. Someone said it was getting cold; I was not sure who.

Exchanges

2009-07-02T17:36:00.014+08:00

Love is X; either you substitute anything with it or substitute it with anything. I dropped a sunflower on your grave stone to undo the gloom the gray sky had cast us from above.

I was single, turning thirty when I made my way to the famous "Love and Hate Stop Shop." If you haven't heard of it in Davao City, then I guess it's somewhere else I was not allowed to tell. It's one of those stores where you can buy crispy mix, hate-inducing hormones, bathsoap, LPG tanks, koi, and love spells. The store had a coffee shop too, right outside it, for those who have all the time in the world to wait for everything.

I decided to go to that store after five years and ten months since my best friend told me that it existed. She was all nervous and jumpy when she gave me a number to call just in case I would need some weird stuff for weird purposes. I saved the number and I know why.

There are a lot of things you would want at thirty--good life, career, happiness (whatever that is) money and love (whatever this is). Those days, things already have price. But at that time, I was already able to pay for any of those things. Still, I wanted something else.

The night before, I dialed the number. There was only silence but after ages, a smart voice answered.

"Love and Hate stop shop. Thank you for patronizing us. How can we help you?"

There was quite a rush of blood in me. If that was excitement, I don't know. But it was only at that time I was sure my best friend was not lying.

"I'm not looking for a product. I'm actually thinking of...of a kind of service," I mumbled the words. I was alone at my house and yet there was this kind of secrecy in my tone.

"We are a very large network ma'am. Just tell me what you want, and we can get you anything or anyone..."

I wasn't sure how I explained the details. When I finished talking there was a sound of pages flipping and after a little while, she referred me a product.

"Are you sure that's what I want? The thing is well...complex. I want it hundred percent sure. I can pay for extra service," I said.

There was a laugh and I would have slammed the phone if only I never wanted the thing so badly.

"We have money-back guarantee if you will not be satisfied."

At first I was really surprised that the Love and Hate Stop Shop was a gasoline store too. And the coffee shop was nearly filled with people I never expected to need weird stuffs. Even the city mayor was there drinking a gasoline-colored liquid.

I entered the shop which looked like a clinic inside. There's a registration counter where some lady would make you sign forms and check your bag for weapons. I was instructed to wait on the couch. For some reason, nobody was there except me. I think they wouldn't want other customers see what one bought.

The lady presented me a nicely wrapped package. I felt it was almost like birthday to me except for the weird feeling in my stomach. I was nervous.

"That's the nightmare exchange cream," the lady smiled. "You could open it, if you don't want anything else."

I gingerly ripped the colorful wrap. The box was not sealed with anything so I flipped the top cover open and a purple plastic jar was revealed. I opened the lid and I almost expected to see some living thing inside. But there was only white cream. There's a piece of note with the jar and "Directions for Use" was written on it.

I returned the jar inside the box and handed it again to the lady.

"Please wrap it again and make it pretty." The lady smiled at my instructions and took the jar away. When she came back I paid and asked for a receipt but well they don't issue receipts. "Deliver it as soon as possible."

They say you were on drugs the night before you died. Everybody believed that except for your family and me. You had a nightmare and you died because of it. Still, I would have liked it if you suffered a little bit.

My sister is well right now. Tomorrow, she'll be marrying the new love she has found. Old friends would gasp in disbelief to see my once demented sister blooming with life and happiness. She doesn't remember you nor the nightmare she had about you.

Sun behind things

2009-06-19T16:27:00.002+08:00

I, I’m the sun—the bright one and the hero of life. Like all stars, I burn inside and I burn alive and I burn to death. Yet, everyone seemed to want my warmth, my light, my way of life without realizing the pain and torture that has to come with all that. Some people claim my life is beautiful only because it isn’t theirs; they don’t even know a single thing about it.

As I move behind things, landscapes, trees, structures…anything…these things lose their color. My own light reduces them into dull back lighted silhouettes and they’ve always hated me for that. And I’ve always resented the fact that when I’m nearest to the things I love most, I could only make them see the worst in them. Now what’s so cool in that? Who wants my life, I’d give it away.

No one knows that I have to be far from things so that they could have their colors. While all of them create together picture-perfect scenes, I am halfway across the sky, burning alone just so their colors would be vivid.

Things are most beautiful when I am away while I can only look beautiful when I’m behind things making them look dark. That’s the fact of my life. Who wants that? I’d give that away.

I'm tired.

my pair of red checkered high cuts is retiring

2009-06-14T20:40:00.005+08:00

I wish to include a recent, close-up photo of my noblest pair of shoes ever but I don't have a copy of that pic now. The pair isn't converse. It isn't of expensive brand. Being the kuripot that I am, I bought it three years ago for 320 pesos. From that day on, I became a fan of robertson's rubber shoes (rmb group series)! Whee!

After three years, after all the days we spent together in the rough mountains and streams to the concrete roads of the city, my pair of red checkered high cuts is retiring. The soles were intact but the "cloth part" was now torn. The pair was still functional but for the love of it, I don't intend to wear out the special shoes.

Last night, I spotted a brown checkered canvas shoes in the night market (ukay-ukay gallore). Because it was checkered, I fell in love with it right away and bade goodbye to a hundred and fifty pesos. :) The pair wasn't really that good for a hundred fifty, I realized it after close inspection. But, there's still room for reinventing the shoes. And as soon as I get back from Far Far Away, I'll summon my creative side to bring the best out of that pair. :) And hopefully, with the second-hand shoes, I could set my best foot forward. :)

Life is always better with second chances. I think I believe that now.

all ends well

2009-06-09T16:08:00.005+08:00

Earlier this day, my brain received some signal that the trip we planned had to be put off. It wasn’t a vacation of some sort as the trip was work-related. So when the cancellation was confirmed, I was relieved.

For a week now, I’ve been hopping from city to city—sleeping only when inside the bus or any public transport. I was almost on the road for days, doing work stuffs in internet cafes whenever the need arises. I know that I looked like most dorks carrying expanded folders and a bag pack bulging with everything and clothes. It was really degrading when mall guards check my bag pack and everything inside it wanted to say hello.

The Philippine Eagle Week will end today (closing program 6-9 PM at SM DAvao). I was barely “there” for the event. I only had last Sunday’s afternoon to feel the “fun-spirit.” Although tired after hours and hours of editing some stuffs…which actually more of rewriting those stuffs…I had fun watching kids posing for pictures during the “animal encounter” at SM Davao. It really was a tiring week but thanks to some friends, I was able to do all my targets with their generous help.

Next Saturday will be my first day as a graduate student. Wheee! It took me 2 years to wait for this. Just how happy I am that I was able to pay for my fees and my brother’s tuition, no one probably had the slightest idea. I am only earning a meager pay of 4500 (benefits and taxes not yet subtracted) a fifteenth. I probably have the most low-paying among the very demanding jobs…and there are times that I resent things in this line of work. But, as long as I am not too fed up and tired, I will keep going.

I don’t know how hard life is for others so every time I hear good news from friends, I feel most happy for them. If life is difficult for me, I don’t want to make it difficult for others. That’s not being nice, kind or altruistic…that’s being fair when everything seemed to be not.

What's with dreams that made me blog?

2009-05-31T18:25:00.004+08:00

I was reading my Pink, rubberized NIV Bible in a dream. Although, I don't exactly remember the Book and the Chapter I was reading, I understand that it was about "True Love." At the same time, I saw my copy of Neil Gaiman's Smoke and Mirrors burning on my bed. I picked the black book up (without burning my fingers) and tried to put off the fire by throwing it on the floor. Luckily, except for the page edges and the cover, the book was not really destroyed. I felt so relieved because I really can't watch my 300-peso worth of savings consumed by flames.

Dry Spell

2009-05-14T14:58:00.003+08:00

Bought watercolors last December; thinking it was a good gift to myself. All night long I dream of orange suns and pink sunsets…of brushes and fingers and fingers that brushed. Yet in the morning, there’s nothing to find but a wide empty canvass.

So we find love at a young age but struggle everyday to keep it to the old years. I tried to understand why things, except our dark side, never last.

Thus, cry my soul and cry hard. If such salty tears alone could wet the brush. Tomorrow, there might be some color or some gray. Just know, sometimes, pain can end the dry spell and that the next day you shall start to feel again.

On silver chair

2009-05-01T17:58:00.006+08:00

Yesterday's a super busy thursday; I really had a hard time finishing things. Today's labor day. Still no wage increase for most of us (poooooof!). But more reasons are there to be happy. I believe summer will be over soon...so just before all the sunny summer feeling melt in the rain...it's time to unburden the soul through a classic song.

here's a beautiful song... Silverchair's "all these years".

Breathe in the night
That crusted tired sunrise
Born again the day
Brings young naivety

A laptop souvenir is worth the weight
In silver and golden son
You'll be home again
And I'll be home again

Mend in my sleep
I'm boxing under water
Waddle on the wake
Waking on the summer day (a summer day)

After all these years
Forget about all the troubled times
And after all these years
Forget about all the troubled times

And every father's pain
Casts a shadow over a broken son
You'll be whole again
And I'll be whole again

Munificent, artless and ascetic
Playing like a scared
Enthusiastic pawn

After all these years
Forget about all the troubled times
And after all these years
Forget about all the troubled times ( the troubled times )

All those years
I was hurting to feel
Something more than life

All those years
After all these years
Forget about all the troubled times
And after all these years
Forget about all the troubled times ( the troubled times )

All those years
I was hurting to feel
Something more than life