Magandang Umaga Nga

Ayun, umakyat kami ni Mae hanggang sa barbed wire na "No Entry" daw. Oks na, solb na rin naman kami dun. Nakahinga naman ako ng malalim kasi kahit na maputik dahil sa weirdo weather ng LB, hindi nadulas o nadisgrasya ang baby sister na damulag. Gusto naming mag-pictorial duon kaso walang kamera. May millipede pa naman na cute.

Tinanong ni Mae kumbakit may tumutulak sa tao na tapakan yun. Sabi ko, "so that we will know our height." 'Know' ba o 'enjoy'? Ewan ko basta paprofound effect eklat na naman yun. E isa lang naman ang alam ko, at yun ay wala akong alam. Hello, Socrates? Is that you? Sanay na naman si utol. Kaya nagkwentuhan na lang kami habang dumadaluyong ng batis at nagmamagandang umaga ang mga di namin makitang ibon.

Dahil sobrang tomguts na ang drama ng hija, sumakay na kami ng dyip pagkaahon sa putik at batis. Sementadong sibilisasyon na naman tayo bosing! Wow, exclammation point. Kunwari na naman masaya. Ayun, nag-almusal kami.

Good Morning

I went in early morning to subvert my own augury of doom and make a damned false prophet out of myself.

The room needed a scrubbing so it got that. Good old rag, water, and soap. Spic and span. The good morning sun was still up at seven, so I plunged into Baker field to try out my knee. There's still a bite there somewhere. It just made me pump in some more. I stretched myself all fine and dandy and when I ran, I minded my form. It's different when you run mornings. The sun doesn't care for your cares. I don't think I can go very far with a mad pace. The orb just smiles so luridly serene and you think you're such a fool running like hell on the wonderful earth.

So I ran the way I'm supposed to. At about the fourth round, I breathed to the tune of John Williams' Carmina Burana. Somewhere in the middle, I put in a loop. I made a two minute score last for eleven or so minutes.

The knee did great, bite and all. The test was over. I can climb the mountain again. My sister is coming over on Wednesday, and she insisted I take her. I will. No screw-ups this time. That's my sister with me! Move, mountain, move!

This will happen, I said to myself as I wolfed down seven pan de sal on the dilapidated bench I've come to call lotus-leaf. I drank it all in with the chocolate drink. This will happen.

It will. We will go up early morning. All fun. No doom.

Tingnan Natin sa Lunes!

Ayoko na!

Miss ko na masyado mga estudyante! Napakawirdo ko talaga! Waaah! Isang linggo ko na silang hindi nakikita at sa Linggo pa ako makakabalik sa LB. Mga hinayupak na yan! Porke ba tambak sila ng mga papeles at groupwork at iba pang eklat para sa huling module ay may karapatan na silang magpa-miss?

Tingnan natin sa Lunes! Sopresahin ko kaya ng eksam? Kung hindi pa naman ako murahin sa student eval e! Wehehe. Kahit pa murahin nila ako sa student eval! Basta ba may isang magsabing gwapo titser, okay na e. Hehehe. Ambobo ko talaga. "All is vanity," pagmamalaki nga ni Shakespeare. Kelan ba ako na-exempt sa 'all'?

Mga sira ulo talaga! Pasalamat sila hindi ako naniniwala sa mga eksam pamparusa! Kung hindi, naku! Kung pwede lang mantiris ng utak e. Hindi corporal punishment yun di ba? Lambing lang. Kung alam ko lang, gusto na ring magklase at magkonsulta ng mga yan. Wehehe! E alangan namang hindi sila magtrabaho no? Ano sila, hayskul? Ano ko, hilo? Magkaklase kami kahit mas maraming gagawin sa labas ng apat na poste ng klasrum? Ano to selda? Paghusayan sana lahat ng yan! Laluna ang paggawa ng sariling lapida, wehehe. Sana may tumula. O kaya, mag-iwan ng payo. Desiderata ba?

Ano namang gagawin? Wow, gimik. Tingnan lang natin kung makapagpasa ng maaayos na papel ang nagpuyat lang sa mga kalokohan! E teka, kasalanan ba nila? Para namang tinuturo ko ang kahulugan ng buhay no!

Marami rin akong gagawin. Malaliman at seryosohan ang pagbanat ko sa mga epiko. Wow, kunwari iskolar. Wagi. Pusang hilaw! E bakit ko pa iniisip ang mga yan! Istorbo! Mga matang yan! Anghirap harapin. Kahit hindi nila alam, napakarami nilang hinihiling. Mas lalong magtahimik ang mapupungay na mata, mas lalong nakakatakot ang lalim ng hinahanap nila. O ng mga bagay na hindi pa nila natutunang hanapin.

Ano namang maibibigay ko sa mga yan? Puro that's entertainment? Puro kamorbidan ko sa klase? Paano nga kaya kung magkatotoo yung sinabi ko sa kanila na baka madale yung HM transport ko sa daan pabalik sa Linggo? Mahulog sa bangin! O maaksidente o kung anupaman.

Harhar, kahit pa! Magkaklase pa rin ako sa Lunes ng umaga! Malalaman na lang nila ang balita pagkatapos. Pero pgkatapos pa yun! Sa klase, masaya kami, magtatawanan pa at magbibidahan sa mga tsuging balentayms!

Tapos malalaman nila siguro sa TV o sa radyo o sa roommate. Malamang sa cellphone. Linggo pa lang pala ng gabi, namatay na ako kasi, habang natutulog sa biyahe at iniisip ang pakikipagsapalaran ni Labaw Donggon, naumpog ang ulo ko sa tumabi sa aking lasing. Sa isang saglit, naging kamukha ko ang sumulot sa asawa niya. At sa isa pang saglit, naging magaan ang bente-nwebe nya.

Ouch.

Tapos, pagdating sa Olivarez, bababa ako, maghahapunan tapos lesson plan eklat. Sa totoo lang, mag-iipon lang ako ng patawa. Syempre, excited. Klase na naman. Sabi nga ni Michael Jordan, play each game as if it were your last. O di ba sineryoso ko naman sya? Kelan ba naging laro ang klase? Ang buhay? Wow, rhetorical question ba drama natin ngayon? Basta papasok ako kinabukasan. Magmamadali pa ako kasi baka mahuli. Buhos-buhos na lang! Hilod na nga rin, kahit isang minuto lang.

Hindi ko sasabihin sa kanila na namiss ko sila, mga hinayupak na kinabukasan ng bayan. Hello Rizal? Cliche ka pa rin ba hanggang ngayon? Bakit kakaiba ang kinang ng mga mata nila? Sagutin mo nga aber?

Basta pagkatapos na nila malalaman, pagkapasa nila ng mga takdang papeles at lapida nila. Pagkatapos ng tawanan at mga makahiyang mukha na ayaw mag-recite pero todo pa rin ngumiti.

Ako rin, pagkatapos ko na lang malalaman. Sa pagtanggal ko ng kwelyo ko, magtataka na lang ako sa hitsura ko sa salamin. Ano ba yang suot ko sa leeg? Kahit naman kelan, hindi ako nagsuot ng pulang kwintas e.

These Things Come

For example, the green mango shake, perfectly sugared and salted, crashing down the carpet that is not yours, breaking a glass that is not yours. Carpet and glass are too expensive for the luxury of accidents. You're not a close friend. You've not had a sip. You are a shard in the fur.

For example, a lavender and yellow morning with a sun of courtesies and niceties and your intent to become, this day, a man. "Finally," they all say. "Finally," you say. And so finally You bring your heart to pen, your blood to ink, your heat to motion. You think grammar; you think paragraph sequence; you think metaphor. You write life; you seethe life; you promise life. The sun never comes down, already all happy in its height. Your letters come back.

For example, a blood-curdling cry. The justification for everything comes. The instant is now. You brace your arms, curl the fingers of the left into fist and bring the fingers of the right up front, forward as the white palm of challenge. Your enemy smiles. You see his ally reflected in his eye too late. The ally comes from behind with his blow.

Or maybe, for example, you drink blood, ink, and raw mango shake. And you also consume the vomit that issues thereafter. Then you vomit again, this time into paper. Then sign, as if a contract. It says that you promise to forget.

For example, you sign in perfect agreement.

Nothing really came, you say. You say and say again until the sun goes down spewing reds and oranges in its yellow wake.

Skinhenge

My arm served as a feast for mosquitoes. They came with the laundry. I can't sleep anymore. That's okay, I've been sleeping light these days anyway. I feel flushed everytime. This is how it feels to be naked. I feel so vulnerable. As if the whole world knows my secret. But what really happened was that I told my secret to my secret. I don't know who else she told. The moon has been dogging my progress since Monday.

I would like to wonder and wish as I've been doing since my great Makiling misadventure. But I still have some itches to scratch. There is a circle of bites on my left arm. I imagine tribes of mosquitoes conducting Walpurgis-nacht on the mountain of my arm. But, before the feast, a select group of mosquito-priests congregated earlier to clandestinely erect these skinhenges. Amusing really.

They took my mind off some things. I wonder if the point of their miniscule, infernal rites was to amuse and distract their earth. Well done then, children of my night.

My left knee's better now. I did not go to a doctor. Such pride eh? Maybe the pain will fully disappear by next week. I can walk fine now but stairs still bother me. I think this pain will disappear then gradually return when I am old along. It will bring with it all the fun memories surrounding its acquisition.

That's something to look forward to, I guess. Memories for an old, secretless age.

You're here so I hope you don't mind if I ask you something. What's keeping you online?

The left knee is busted. Stupid ROTC taught me to always lead with my left foot so now I have to reorient myself to lead with my right. Now I walk so funny that I have to tell my class what happened. I told the long story of the knee six times today. Twice for students and the rest for all the colleagues who wouldn't gather for a single telling. Six times is enough for the day. I only have one busted knee to go around with anyway.