nevermind.

I can’t understand myself. I want to kill the next person who will mess with me. The next person who’ll dare to try will die. Because I’m sure, that person will live long enough when hell freezes over.

***

I usually ride the tricycle out of the subdivision. Walking would mean sweat and that sunny odor that everyone wants to avoid. Most of the drivers here are either naïve when you try to hail a ride or pa-importante (as in they pass by you first and tells you wait, goes around the subdivision to check for other potential passengers, and comes back at you with someone riding in the “most comfortable” seat, that forces you to ride where the wind is more violent – the seat behind the driver – or they come back at you without a passenger that would mean that your time was just wasted). So whatever the situation may be, I just look for another tricycle that will be more willing to give me a ride. When drivers coming from the left side miss me, those from the right are always available and vice versa.

Last Sunday, this tricycle crisis happened once again. And because I was running late again, I was more aggressive. What surprised me is that a driver was more aggressive than ever. I hailed Tricycle A, but he just waved back at me to fetch another passenger. Who knows how long it’ll take him? So when I saw Tricycle B, I tried to hail him instead. And it was a success. Apparently, Tricycle B was “concerned” with Tricycle A, so that when they met at an intersection Tricycle B told me to transfer to A. I was then forced to ride behind him. And this is what he told me: Di ba sabi ko sayo sandali lang?!

Pota. Gusto ko s’ya gawing Koko Crunch at that moment. Isang pukpok lang sa ulo, patay s’ya. But, NO. I realized that would also mean my potential death.

***

Sometimes I think that the Mass is an event when hypocrites come together. And in the forefront of hypocrite-Mass goers are the Mother Butlers, followed by old usherettes, then old women in general, and ranking last are the “critics” who judge other Mass goers. Spare me. I’m just stating an observation.

The reason behind the ascendancy is ascendancy. The fact that that they signed up to be Mother Butlers should mean that ideally they would be the least judgmental of all, they should serve as “models”, and should learn how to be humble. Being in uniform, being able to roam around and police Mass goers, and the feeling of absolute authority should not be abused. They need not to say what they think. The way they look at particular Catholics says it all. It’s the same with usherettes, with old women, and with “critics”. Some old women even share whispers during the Mass. As if the event is an ordinary occasion where being judgmental is normal.

Last Sunday an usherette was holding the signature campaign sheet against the Reproductive Health Bill. And by the aura that she shares, you’ll know she’s bragging it. With chin high and condescending stares, she roams to solicit signatures. That’s why I told myself that the moment she tries to get mine, I won’t sign it. Not only because I wanted to harm her in my little way, but also because I don’t believe in blocking the Reproductive Heath Bill. Sometimes I just wished that Logic should prevail when making decisions. People should follow because they know it is right and not because Faith blinded them altogether. During the final announcements in the church where I usually go, this is the logic they follow: the Reproductive Health Bill is once again pursued (check); it will desecrate the value of life (eeengk); it will give way to abortion (eeengk); it will promote same sex marriages (EEENGK. Wtf!); therefore, let’s not support the Bill (wow).

***

Mama didn’t go to work today. I guess it’s her free day for going to Naga back and forth last weekend. Whenever she’s here, she always polices the one who sits in front of the PC, especially when she wakes up with that somebody already seated surfing the net. Most the time, that somebody is me. So for today, I got multiple sermons on how I was wasting my day just sitting and staring in front of the computer. She doesn’t even know why I was spending most of my time facing this machine than facing them. Which, by the way, pisses me more. Sermons are okay, I can let it pass. But to tell me to clean the house again after I cleaned it last night, that’s too much.

Instead of brainstorming for the essay that I’m supposed to do, I now have extra responsibilities to fulfill. Never mind that I also have an Italian exam. Never mind that they forgot to feed me lunch (they always think I can manage). Therefore, I need to cook for myself. Never mind that I’m going to do all the chores since I'm home alone. Never mind me, never mind.

By the way, I still love her. Nevermind. Sabaw.

***

One of my professors heard me sing Ako ang Nagwagi while walking in FC. Of course, it didn't sound brilliant. Ang taas kaya. I wish she'll forget about it. Why was I singing it? I DO NOT KNOW.