Higit tatlumpung minuto din akong nakatingin lang sa monitor ng laptop na ito. Nagmamasid, naghihintay. Kung may kometa bang babagsak sa kwartong ito ngayon, o titigil ng sandali ang naririnig kong ingay sa kwarto na galing sa makina ng air-con at ng kung anu-anong sasakyan na umaabot ang tunog hanggang sa kwartong ito.

Walang kasiguraduhan.Walang pangakong ibinibigay ang oras at panahon.

Lagi’t lagi, dumarating ako sa puntong napapatahimik at saka pagmamasdan ang mga imahe at letra sa laptop na kaharap ko ngayon. Titimplahin kung kaya pa ba ng mata ko ang makakita o ito’y titigalgal na lamang. Kukusutin kung tama ba ang nakikitang pagdurugo ng mga imahe, letra at salita sa nakikipagtitigang laptop.Tuso ang mga daliri, pumipindot-pindot at saka hinahayaang magsayaw ang kaakuhan sa kunday ng taglagas ng alaala at kawalang-kahulugan.

Isa na naman ito sa mga gabing malamlam ang bati ng dalawa kong mata. Pighati, kasawian, kalungkutan.

Tulad ng dati ko nang sinasabi, gusto kong pumasok sa isang madilim na madilim na kwartong nababalutan ng kung anong mahika kung saan walang naririnig at hindi ka maririnig sa labas. Sa isang lugar na wala kang nakikita kundi ang paghahabulan ng iba’t ibang kulay ng itim, papasok ako at saka uupo. “Bakit nga ba napakaraming kalungkutan sa daigdig na ito?” Ilang segundo. Sisigaw, “Putanginamo, WORLD! Putang-putanginamo! Putanginamo! As in putanginamo! Nakakapagod na! Putanginamo talaga!”Cut to: aagos na ang iba’t ibang hugis ng mga luha mo. At saka ang paikpik na katahimikan.

Matapos ang palabas, lalabas ka ng kwarto. Wala na ang mga luha, nabawasan na ang kinikimkim mong galit at sama ng loob. Kahit saglit, kahit koonti, nakaranas ka ng “relief” sa isang lipunan at mundong hindi mo ma-get kung anong klase ba ng rock genre ang gusto.

I started staring at the stars when I was five years old. Clouds then were always smiling and engaging me to join their dance rituals in blue-sky. I saw a woman holding an ube ice cream whilst the birds are busy chirping at the busy universe. One thing I’ve realized while typing this entry is the fact that I might lose my sanity in the following days. Ahh, I remember the day I saw a crow, I was holding my Manual SLR camera.. one, two, three… click. That was the first time I ever saw a crow. In fact, it is one of my wildest dreams to see a crow. Alas, I shook my hands at the luxurious neon lights. Sorrows, lost dreams, insanity… this is what we call life. One morning when I was seven years old, I asked the question that a seven year old kid can’t ask… “why is it so difficult to live and be happy?” That night, my mom from a very busy day bought a gallon of ube ice cream. Oh, how I love ube ice cream! Three years later I would examine my penis in front of the mirror, touch my lips and close my eyes. Oh, oh, oh… my orgasm is dripping on the carpet. Our maid might punish me for untidying the carpet. Looking back at the tapestry of long-lost memories is a breeze. I was chastised one night at that place. I didn’t know what to do, I thought I came to the point of everlasting fulfillment.. the bliss, the utopia. Shits are all over the place. I lick each one of the shits. That was the sweetest dinner ever. Two minutes before the clock alarms to 12. Still a struggling writer and artist. Watching all the passions dying, digging the grave for the burial of guns and roses and dreams. Apropos, do I really need to know the essence. Soul is aching, mouth is saying words without words. Words with letters but letters without letters. This is really a very mad world. Busy streets, sleep talks. I’m tired.

Gap year, according to Wikipedia,  is a term that refers to a prolonged period between a life stage. The most popular gap years are taken between school and university or college.

Save wikipedia’s unreliability, a broken clock can also be correct twice a day. K?

Seven months of bumming around, can you imagine that? SEVEN FOCKING MONTHS of bumming around. Poems and coffee make me alive. But where the feck is my old poems? I lost all the poems, I lost the passion. Metaphors, moon, stars.. and tonight, I will search for the lost poems whilst drinking a very hot black coffee.

Staring at this computer at exactly 12:44 PM. Doing nothing but staring.. staring nonchalantly. My fingers are freeze, my eyes are looking at the direction where the sun rises. I am living a very lonely and melancholy life. Asking questions about nihilism, hedonism and existentialism, embracing all these sacks of manure rejections. What the fock am I doing with this freakin’ life!

I’m tired of existing everyday and chasing all the wrong routines and gigs of this crazy peregrine. Oh, oh, oh, Vienna Teng is on my head. Sunset, sadness.. happyness! I wander through the river of hopelessness and I see a shadow.. shadow of euphoria.

I am now in dire need of a psychiatric consultation.

Mabigat ang tulog ko kagabi. Nagising na lang akong pugtung-pugto ang mga mata at basang-basa ang unan. Hindi ko alam kung dahil ba sa tulo ng laway ko na hindi yata napanis o mga luha na hindi ko alam kung saan nanggaling.

Ang natatandaan. Bago matulog ay nagbilang ako ng tupa. Isa, dalawa, tatlo… pagkatapos niyon ay hindi ko na alam ang mga nangyari. Kabiguan, kapighatian, kalungkutan. Bakit nga ba napakaraming kalungkutan sa mundong ito?

Pagkagising kanina’y tinignan ko ang bintana na nahaharangan ng venetian blinds, madilim ang bati ng bintana, nagbabadya ng kahihinatnan. Umupo ako ng saglit sa kwartong hindi ko makilala, pagkatapos ng ilang taon ng pagtulog ng katawang lupa sa kama, hindi ko mawari kung kilala ko ba ang kwartong ito. Nakikita ko ang repleksyon ko sa salamin. Tunay ngang masakit ang mga alaala.

Walang ibang dapat sisihin. Nagbabadya ang mga alon sa dagat ng institusyon, ang mito’y matagal nang iwinaksi, ang haraya at ang daan tungo sa minimithing pagbabago ay unti-unti nang naglalaho.

Walang ibang dapat sisihin. Ikaw na kumanlong sa mga inakay ng kasaysayan. Ikaw na lumihis ng tahak para sa inaasam na kalayaan. Ikaw na ngayo’y nagpapasuso sa batis ng neoliberalismo. Walang ibang dapat sisihin.

Tuklasin kung panis na ba ang gatas mula sa suso. Tiyakin kung tama ang timpla ng pagtutol at pag-anib sa naghaharing nosyon. Bilangin kung ilang saranggola ang lumilipad ng buto’t balat lamang at walang taong nagpapalipad. Amuyin kung masama na ba ang amoy ng teorya. Walang ibang dapat sisihin.

Bakit mo nga ba kinakanlong ang mga inakay na ito sa bisig ng pagsang-ayon? Bakit pinapayagan mong kalimutan ng mga inakay ang dinadapuan nilang mga pugad? Bakit hindi mo ipaalala sa mga inakay na ito kung sino ang nagbibigay ng mga bulati sa kanila para sa ikapagiging malulusog na ibon?

May tali ang mga inakay. Hindi makalipad. Naiwan sa teorya, naging buto’t balat ang mga saronggola. Nasaan ang nagpapalipad?

ANG UNIBERSIDAD NG PILIPINAS.

Endless shadows of metaphors. Moon, moon, and I saw the revolution happening last night in my dreams. Stuck here typing musings and thinking of how to satisfy this primordial lack. Instant Gratification, as they put it.

Six months of unemployment, doing nothing but memorizing the positions of the stars every night. Whilst the wind blows melancholy, petals of flowers from that eden are busy staring. No, no, no, my fingers are stressed.

Feathers, penis, berserk, serkses, all of you. And this is the first time I ever hear your bittersweet voice. Ideas, eidos. Making out. making out, promises and torniquet.

And tonight, I am writing this surreal entry to transcend this existence, my existence.

Laman ng balita ang sakunang dala ni BAGYONG ONDOY. Ilang oras mula ngayon, mapapawi ito ng balita tungkol sa mas malala daw na sakuna na hatid naman ng BAGYONG PEPENG.

Maswerte pa ako ngayon at nakukuha ko pang makapag-internet habang ang iba’y wala nang bahay, nasalanta na ng bagyo. Nakakapanlumo ang ganitong mga pangyayari, at sa ganitong mga oras mapapaisip ka na lang, tuluyan na nga bang mawawasak ang emosyonal na pakikiugnay ng tao sa mundong kinapapalooban nito?

Tunay nga bang “precious ang life” tulad ng subheto ng ilan sa mga pelikulang dinadakila ng mga film theorist na pumapaloob sa ideya ng “Humanismo”? Ngunit ano pa nga bang “precious” sa mga sakunang tulad nito? Magkakaroon pa nga ba ng puwang ang bawat tao para mahalin ang sinasabing “wonderful world”? Unti-unti nang nasisira ang ugnayan ng tao sa tao, nagagalit na ang kalikasan sa tao at marahil, susunod na rito ang pagkasira ng emosyonal at pisikal na kontak ng tao sa mundong hindi natin mawari ang iniisip.

Nagbabadya ang mga politiko sa aming baryo, marahil mamaya o bukas daw ay babahain na ang lugar namin. Unang beses ito sa dalawang dekada kong paglagi sa bahay namin sa Laguna sapagkat kahit malapit ang bahay namin sa lawa, hindi kami kailanman nakaranas na bahain.

Pagkatapos ng entry na ‘to ay malabo na siguro akong makapag-internet ulit, nag-charge na ako ng telepono para sa darating na sakuna, inihahanda ko na ang aking mga gamit na kakailanganin.

Bukas, mamaya o sa mga darating na araw, babahain na daw kami, aapaw na ang lawa. Hanggang talampakan, bewang, dibdib o hanggang anit, hindi ko masabi.

Why is there so much sadness
in this world?
Or why do birds desert
their nests once in a while?
As I walk at the paradise
of lost memories-
where flowers have no petals
and the sun rise at the West,
crows are busy wailing,
for the burial
of dreams and happiness.
I saw you standing,
painting sorrows in the canvass,
it is in black and white,
like ashes of loneliness.
And now, you’re wearing
the stars and
the moon,
as brightly as it is,
we dance.
Why do we need to feel desolated?
Why do mountains want to touch
the powerful clouds?
Why there is so much sadness in this world?

Happiness. Many people say that happiness is relative. One of my friends said that happiness is a choice, maybe or just maybe, that idea is the product of her elitist upbringing. I won’t argue.

For the hedonists, ‘eat, drink and be merry; for tomorrow you will die.’ Indeed, this consumerist society offers nothing but mundane artifacts that could give pleasure and satisfy our physical bodies. We devote more attention on how to provide pleasure for our physical needs and tend to forget that we also need to satisfy the sole essence of our being.

When I entered the picture,
lullabies and sounds loved me-
but instead of acceptance or
acquiesce,
my ears received the noisy cries of turtles and demigods
in the sea and the rhythm
of the forlorn ray of sunlight.
I walked solitarily
amidst the disparaging and windless road.
And where did the wind go?
Abandonment,
as I touch the sand and
feel it with passion.
I continued-
walking alone while blowing
the crest of the jagged waves.
“Wherefore art thou humanity that promises unconditional love?”
As the clock tickles,
finger points, busy eyes.
I am here in solitude.
My demigods punished me
with throbbing words,
cursed me like how dear Zeus,
expurgated the eternal essence of being.
Now, feeling unwanted,
destroyed, and hitherto, uninvited.
The party has started,
colours and shades as it bounce
life and desire,
oh, oh, oh,
meaningless and desolation.
Standing in the cliff-
alone
and belittled, infectious sickness and
contagious persona
like how the moon abandons day.
Allow me, my dear demigod
to get naked and feel the portrait
as I unchain my hands
from the hundreds of years of imprisonment
in the cage of the uninvited.

- Sining Li, alas tres kwarenta’y dos ng madaling araw.