2 a.m, today. I woke up just to find out that my phone’s number 5 key stopped working. Of all keys, it really has to be number 5. And the mystical thing about it is that before I accidentally fell asleep, all of my keys were perfectly working.
What happened? I. Don’t. Know. How do you feel? Pretty. Fucked. Up. How can I help? Give. Me. Money.
When my mom woke up, I told her the bad news. I said, “Ma, press 5.” And she said, “Ano? Meron naman ah.” Then I said, “’Wag mo kasi diinan!” And she went, “Eh syempre kailangan yun!” Then she pressed every key as hard as she can, and said, “Okay na yan. At least, meron.” Obviously, she missed the point.
Yes, number 5 will work if you, like, pound it with your finger. But if this incident happened to her, I bet she’ll nag everybody to swap phones with her. Or bring it to some repair shop as soon as she can. But for me, well, “at least, meron.”
I need money. I want to buy a new one. It doesn’t have to be packed with all of the fancy features. I just need a phone that can create and send SMS and MMS, a phone that rings, and a phone that has a decent camera (for you know, camwhoring). Or, I can just bring it to the nearest repair shop and get it fixed. But either way, I need money.
My phone is about four years old. And it was begging to be replaced months ago. Case in point: When I receive messages, my phone will never make a sound. Activate vibrate, and it won’t. But it rings for phone calls. Choosy? It needs to retire. I want it to retire.
Imagine, without the number 5 key, I won’t be able to send the almost classic reply to all messages: the infamous “k”. When a contact says, “I’ll meet you in McDo.” You reply, “K.” When your mom says, “I left my phone charging. Unplug it before you leave.” You reply, “K.” And when your lover says, “It’s not you, it’s me.” You say, “K.”
Be a Good Samaritan. Let’s make this world a better place. Donate, contribute to Give Marc a New Phone Program. K? K, thanks.
Friday, March 6, 2009
the number 5 key.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
friend.
It was late. A friend asked where I was, I replied “In a coffee shop with a friend.” Friend asked again, “Is your friend a guy? What’s his name?” I replied, “My friend is a friend. The friend doesn’t have a name.” Friend asked for a follow-up, “Is your friend your significant other?” I replied, “Significant other? The friend is a friend.”
The friend is a friend. The friend doesn’t have a name. The friend is not the significant other, but equally significant. The friend can be anybody. How many times do I go to a coffee shop in a week? Exactly. Who would know except me.
The problem with all of you is that when I drop a name, you start teasing, the friend feels awkward, and digresses from me because the friend isn’t comfortable with the setup anymore. When things turned hazy, and y’all know it’s your fault, everybody eventually steps back and leaves the problem for me to solve. Right? Right. Another friend should know. Another friend was your victim, though you’ll never know friend blamed and hated all of you for a while.
So when I say I was with a friend, even though how late it was, you don’t ask if my friend is guy or a girl. It’s a not issue who I went out with. The friend doesn’t have a name. The friend is equally significant like all friends. And the friend is a friend. Besides, can you remember what I called you? I called you “friend”.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
NASA and the mind.
During nighttime I also look at the sky, watch the stars, drool at their beauty, think of Government’s proposition, imagine NASA operating in a small room because they want to slash off their budget, and yet they expect NASA to function efficiently. That was my opening line from my latest debate. Part of it is true. Of course, “think of Government’s proposition, imagine NASA blah blah blah” isn’t.
It’s not that the emo have developed a liking for star gazing (I’m not even emo), but because I’ve been coming home late enough for the sky to be clear and the stars to be defined. I might as well enjoy the moment. But more than that, as Jacques would put it, I’ve been connecting dots. I’ve been creating form from scattered points to forcefully see something I wanted to see for all this time. I’ve been intellectualizing the senseless, rationalizing the irrational, imposing logic to a complex idea beyond human comprehension. And I wanted a new answer to the old question of why.
I am getting tired of it too, believe me. But the mind is made to make sense out of this world. So, let the mind do its job and hope the sense it creates is sensible enough to approximate truth.
That’s all I have to share. Good night.
Friday, February 27, 2009
three males on a jeepney ride.
I twisted my wrist and checked the time. 10:03 p.m. says the watch. I secretly looked at everybody. I don’t know why. Every passenger exuded an aura of desire to lie in their beds to rest. I sat still with the intrusive light shining just above my face. The only thing keeping me awake is that song whispering from my earphones. I also desire rest. The kid in front of me demanded attention without doing anything. So I tried to watch him move or should I say sit still for a while.
I am not good with guessing age. He looks young enough to be in elementary. And yet, he was like a miniature man. He wore a seemingly oversized pair of pants, a white shirt, and a pair of dirty slippers. A small towel was adorning his shoulder. He didn’t allow his back to relax. He sat with his arms leaning on his legs, with both arms clasping each other. His glance was fixed on the jeepney’s floor, but I caught it inspecting the kid beside me a couple of times. He was serious and detached from his mother. The features of his face tried hard to look innocent, but his eyes were trying to tell a different story. He was tired. I don’t know why.
Beside the kid was a man who brags a huge frame. He is larger than my father, or any average sized father I know. But he wasn’t fat. He looked like as if he just finished jogging or finished a session in the gym. He is brawny. He wore a black shirt, a pair of shorts, and a pair of running shoes. He carries three bags: a big black backpack, a white bag from a grocery, and a red and white striped bag with a variety of things in it. He looks strong. But he didn’t sit still. His head kept on swinging as he slept. I don’t know why.
At the far end of the jeepney was a guy. He was still wearing a uniform. It looks familiar. He looked like he’s from Marist. He carries with him a beige back pack. His hair was the typical two by three slash high school haircut. He was wearing glasses and never kept his cellphone even for a moment. He kept on texting. I saw myself in him. A version of me not too long ago. It felt weird. Should I know why?
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
the boy abunda technique.
Sa totoo lang, ang entry na ‘to ay isinulat gamit ang English. Pero na-feel ko na hindi parehas ang dating at bigat ng salita kaya eto, Taglish mode muna tayo. Here it goes:
Ganito lang naman ang point ko: Naisip ko lang na kahit gaano katindi ang pagpipigil ng isang tao na hindi maging mayabang, na hindi maging hambog, darating ang panahon na ang konsepto ng lehitimong kapangyarihan at impluwensya ay aabot sa rurok ng pagkasidhi na hindi mo na maiiwasan maging mayabang at hambog kinalaunan.
Kung dati lahat pinapansin mo at ‘di kinakalimutan, ngayon ikaw na ang “leader”, not for the day, but forever. Pwede ka na magdikta kung sino ang pwedeng iwanan, sino ang pwedeng ‘wag kibuin, sino ang pwedeng pagdamutan, sino ang pa-plastikin dahil kailangan mo ngayon, sino ang functional, sino ang hindi. And take note, ang basis and standard of everything that needs to be assessed ay ikaw at ikaw lamang – wala ng iba, period, no erase.
And to make things worse, merong mga tao na nakapaligid sayo na walang humpay ang pag-ihip sa ulo mo para lumaki at lumobo. Napapaligiran ka ng mga taong akala mo kung sinong garapata na nakiki-angkas sa balahibo at balat mo, pero malaman-laman mo nalang, sinisip-sip na pala ang dugo mo – leading you to your fatal death. Pero eto ang catch, ang moment of epiphany ay halos parating nasa huli.
Kaya nga dapat lahat ng tao kilala ang sarili nila kung kaya ba nila magpigil. Kung sa pagkain lang, ‘di mo na kaya, anong assurance mo na sa abstract concepts of power and influence kaya mo magtimpi? Alam ko na pwede kang makipagtalo na since abstract s’ya, then dapat mas acceptable ang pagiging uncontrollable nito, but then again, wish ko lang gets mo yung point ko.
Lahat dapat merong self-assessment period everyday. Kahit gasgas na ang konsepto ng reflection and meditation, eh kung yun lang ang paraan kung paano mo maiiwasan ang pagiging hambog at mayabang, then why not? Friend, eto ang salamin, sino ang nakikita mo? Ikaw pa ba yan?
Monday, February 23, 2009
the birthday post: late edition.
This is really, as in really, really late. But still, I’d like to thank everybody who remembered – from my high school friends, to some of my orgmates in Debsoc, to Epistaxis, to my college friends, down to my friends who just happened to be my friends. Your greetings were the only things that made my birthday feel like a birthday. And for that, thank you, thank you very much.
I’d also like to say sorry if I thanked you hours after, and even days after you greeted me, especially to those who greeted me online. That was because I wasn’t able to check your messages for the past few days. My sister and my mom celebrate their birthday days before and after mine, so I wasn’t able to find time. Plus, all of the academic stuff that I had to fulfill in between.
I’d also like to say sorry to those who were supposed to party in my house. I had to fulfill other responsibilities. And inasmuch as I wanted to get wasted, I can’t. I already explained why, and even if you still barrage me with all of the bad things y’all say to make me feel guilty, I know you love me enough to understand. Right? I don’t know how to make it up to you guys except for receiving my prayers that you will all be well and blessed forever and ever.
Again to all, thank you very much and sorry. You are all loved!
***
February 19: This was a hectic day. I was sleepless because we had to cram a report on the Language of Advertising at Joy’s place. Then, I had a workshop for my Nonfiction class, which by the way, most of the comments confused me. Then, there was the interclass Sociology debate that I voluntarily adjudicated with some Debsoc members (one of the few things that made me feel good that day, don’t know why). Then, there was the class where I had to be alert and well read because the professor has the habit of surprising students with questions and quizzes. And there was the class where I had to be alert because the professor doesn’t know anything but to say and ask, “You, Mr. Siapno. What can you say about [insert topic]?”
All of these, happened from the night before (which is not even February 19) to 4 pm straight, hardcore, nonstop. So I had people saying, “Happy Birthday, Marc! Ba’t ang haggard mo?” And people texting me their greetings, who I felt, felt ignored in a way. Again, sorry.
After class, I went out with some friends. Two of them went shopping for scrapbook materials – Ara and Annel. And I was with Ronn who had some pictures printed. I didn’t treat any of them. I just went out for the sake of going out. God knows how sleepy I was the whole time. I even had my huge, heavy bag with me, plus the books for the report all the time, until I realized that I can leave everything at the baggage counter. I didn’t do anything else but to be with them and at times, window shop. So good thing I had people greeting me the whole day because that constantly reminded me that it was my birthday, and I had to appear happy for the people around.
Of course, some just deserves a paragraph to be thanked for their effort that day. For remembering like nobody, for being unexpected, for making me realize that even at the littlest fraction, you still care, for that simple gesture that was extraordinary even how ordinary it appears, thank you very much. I really appreciated it.
***
It’ll be school for me again tomorrow. Hope the week ahead will be fine. Much love everyone!
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
flirting or not?
A classmate from another college, who seems to be always around wherever you are, always greets you and asks if you’re done with a requirement and even asks if you’re coming to class, is flirting or not?
A guy in a nursing uniform sits beside you in a jeepney, even if a more comfortable space is available on the other side, and keeps on leaning even if the driver didn’t hit the brakes abrupt enough to lose balance, is flirting or not?
A girl/guy across the CAL atrium, who is also part of larger group, keeps on looking even if s/he is doing something and/or talking to a friend; also gives you a final glance when s/he decides to leave for class or I don’t know what, is flirting or not?
The group in a coffee shop who traces your path, and follows you wherever you go through sight, then shares whispers, is flirting or not?
A guy in bar who throws a quick glance once and gets lost in the crowd, is again seen in a different spot and then throws another glance, but then again gets lost in the crowd, is flirting or not?
A girl who studies in another university allows her hair to be blown to your face, is flirting or not?
A person who always texts you with your name in the message, proving that it's personal, not a GM, in the morning, in the afternoon, and before sleeping, is flirting or not?
The person, who asks if you’re still a virgin, is flirting or not?
The mysterious cellphone number who texts once in a while, sometimes asking if you’re still up, is flirting or not?
The friend, who always insists on paying your fare whenever you chance upon each other, is flirting or not?
The person who takes time to stare whenever you cross against each other in AS, in FC, or in CAL, is flirting or not?
Me, noticing all of this, is flirting back or not?
Sunday, February 15, 2009
why valentine's is synonymous to death.
Case in point number 1: Loverage 3 which was like the event you should have attended if you expected anarchy caused by the black, filthy fellows in tight pants, patched vests, and costume-like clothes, we call the JJs, at its best. You should have attended it if you had plans on being spilt with beer compliments of a flying can from the group of drunken guys in front of the line. You should have attended it if you find the parade of victims –with head bleeding, wrapped in bandages and all – taken out from the fair grounds one by one, amusing. You should have attended it if you had plans of standing for roughly 4 hours just to hear 3 songs from Bamboo and then call it a night. You should have attended it if you were expecting a romantic fireworks display, while the Enchanted Kingdom theme song was playing on the background. And finally, you should have attended it just to share this moment of epiphany that I’m having now. Looking back, it seemed unworthy of all the shit. Condemn the chaotic nature of the JJs.
Case in point number 2: If you have a debate tournament the next day, with a call time of 8 am, and a venue located at the other end of your world, never go home by 4 am. If you still choose to sleep, be sure not to overdo it. If you choose to force yourself into trains, be sure that the alighting passengers are not strong enough to endanger your life. Read: body between the train’s closing doors. Remember that the LRT line with the Doroteo Jose and Pedro Gil station is the deadliest of all because of the creaky, overused trains and some barbaric people who can’t even show the slightest concern for the guy who was running late. Mental note: LRT = trains of death.
Case in point number 3: You are only human, sleep is necessary. Sir Maximo already warned the class about the death of your brain cells when you skip sleep, you should have listened. If you choose to be stupid, don’t ask questions about the things that seems “trivial” to the one whose level of intelligence (and did I mention ego?) is way above the Earth’s atmosphere. You were instantly judged when you asked. You should have chosen death instead.
Case in point number 4: Don’t go to places or even attend events, fooling yourself that there is a negative one percent that that person will come. Don’t act as if you don’t realize that that person is not there. Don’t act as if it was just cosmic coincidence. Control, do not text. It will be too obvious. Avoid self-judgment of being a cheapo. You should have died in the train.
Case in point number 5: To eat is to live. More money, more food. More food, more life. More life, more love. Chos.
***
Valentine’s Day was tiring. It was one of the busiest days I ever had. I had fun. I spent it with good friends. After, I needed all the sleep I could get – making the next day very, very unproductive.
Friday, February 13, 2009
sa isang munting harana para sa akin?
Sa lahat ng nakakita sa akin sa corridor ng AS, hindi kayo nililinlang ng mga mata n'yo. Hinarana ako ng mga tao mula sa UP Circle of Entrepreneurs dahil sa request ni Anonymous. Thanks Anonymous, you're the best! I was able to record it, pero yung last 30 seconds nalang. I feel loved.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Sunday, February 8, 2009
tumutula ng wala.
uusbong mula sa mga
titik na naglalaro dito ay 'di
akma sa batayan mo
ng kung ano ang matino at kung ano ang
garapal na panitikan.
Isipin mo nalang bahagi ka
ng isang proseso na nawa
ay maintindihan pagdating mo sa puntong ito.
Madali bang malaman ang mensaheng nakaukit?
o kailangan pang basahin ang unang letra ng bawat linya?
Saturday, February 7, 2009
sa totoo lang.
Sa totoo lang, hirap na hirap na ako. Hindi ko na alam ang susunod na titik na ilalapat sa bakanteng espasyo sa harap ng mga mata ko, sa kung anong saliw ng mga tiklado ng titik iimbay ang mga daliri upang ang diwa ay magkaroon ng buhay. Pagkatapos nito, ano na? Isang imbentong diwa na lilikha ng kasinungalingan upang masaid ang pagnanais mong humugot ng saysay sa panitikang ito?
Sa totoo lang, hirap na hirap na ako. Hindi ko na alam kung saan huhugot ng emosyon upang iakma ang panitikan na nabuo mula sa ibang estado ng diwa, ibang estado ng emosyon, ibang-ibang iba.
Sa totoo lang, hirap na hirap na ako. Hindi ko na alam kung paano makakamit ang pinakaaasam na ligaya mula sa panitikan na pilit kong hinuhubog gamit ang alaala mong pilit kong linilimot at pilit kong tinatandaan.
Sa totoo lang, hirap na hirap na ako. Hindi dahil sa’yo. Aba, putang ina mo kung hanggang ngayon yun ang iniisip mo. Pero, putang ina mo pa rin kasi ikaw ang sanhi ng lahat na ‘to.
Putang ina. Sa totoo lang, hirap na hirap na ako. Bow.
Friday, February 6, 2009
ku mowt.
Masaya ako dahil meron akong bagong kumot. Hindi man siya ganun kaganda, pero nandun siya nung nilalamig ako ng sobra-sobra. Hindi man siya ganun kakapal tulad nung luma, inialay pa rin niya ang sarili niya kahit alam n’yang hindi niya ako kayang panatiliing kumportable buong gabi.
Ang importante sa akin, nandun siya nung nangailangan ako. ‘Di tulad nung luma kong kumot, minahal ko ngunit nawala nalang ng bigla. Nakalimutan yata niya na kumot siya at hindi bula.
Kung meron man akong ikinalulungkot, eh yun yung katotohanan na hindi pa sa akin nang tuluyan yung kumot ko ngayon. Bago dahil bago ko itong ginagamit. Pero hanggang hindi ito ipinagkakaloob sa akin ng tuluyan, darating ang panahon na kukunin din ‘to, aalis at lilisan – isa sa mga dahilan kung bakit hindi ko ito kayang mahalin ng tuluyan. Pero masaya ako dahil meron akong kumot sa ngayon. Basta, iyon ang mahalaga.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
today is friday.
I just want to say that today was the push, or more of like the kick, that I needed to pump my happiness level up. Good food at Bigoli, fun moments at Timezone, laugh trips in TriNoma, good coffee at Starbucks, talks inside cars, and so much more. I don’t need to name names because you know how things work in this society. I just want to say that I’m happy, and that’s the bulk of the things that you need to know. And oh, thanks.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
naisip ko lang.
Kahit gaano mo pa pagnasaan 'yang sapatos sa harap mo, eh kung size 6 lang yan at size 10 ka, hindi tugma.
Kahit pa pagnasaan din ng sapatos 'yang paa mo, wala ka nang magagawa, hindi kasi tugma.
Dahil kung mapilit mo mang suotin yan, dadating ang panahon na isa sa inyo ang susuko - kung hindi yung sapatos ang bibigay at masisira, ikaw na mismo ang aalis dahil sobrang liit, sobrang sikip, sobrang 'di tugma.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
jumping realities.
Writing was never a way to ease your mind. The act itself is disturbance of the things that wants to be left alone. Remembering things, people, emotions, and all of the things that come with all of these shakes settled memories. It won’t ease the mind.
I woke up today. Thinking about. You, again. I hated it. Because I can’t. Answer why, again. God, this is torture. When will this stop?
Hit the pause button. Let’s stop first and continue when I can.
There was a time that my phone never stopped receiving messages. I loved how it trivializes the effort of those who remembers you. Now, I hate how every message received bears a silent wish for it to be you, again.
Everyday I pray to gain whatever was lost. Not for us, but for my own sake. Amen.
Emphasis on the urge to be processed. Be refined. Control.
These are the people who are in my mind today: Nicole, Kris, Tyron, Lean, Kath and Jeremy, Nicole, Jacques, Fred, Bea, Mae and her ex-boyfriend, Carmina, Joseph, Albert, Nicole, Bea, Ronn, Somebody, Nicole, Kris, Somebody, Rois, Albert, Nicole, Somebody, Nicole, Somebody, Nicole, Somebody, the other Ronn, Nicole, Somebody, the other Ronn, Bea, Nicole, Somebody and Marc, Nicole with Marc, and Marc who is alone.
I’ve been asking questions. I’ve been getting more questions every answer. I’ve been getting nothing but disturbance. Should I stop asking instead?
I think I need a new pair of slippers to walk and move somewhere else.
People should be sensitive enough to understand that everything that they do will affect other people beyond what is expected every stare that slips like a cut every bite on one’s lips every word of admiration every finger that brushes through one’s arm every cheek to cheek connection every hug every arm clutched on one’s back every air shared every people should be sensitive enough to understand.
I need an entity to guide me through this labyrinth. The labyrinth is somebody’s mind.
If one day you’ll hear that I died prematurely and people are disturbed why. Tell them this: all he was asking is for you to understand. But unless it’s suicide, remember to hush.
In an effort for zaniness that turned out to be zilch.
February starts today. That means, January ended tomorrow and I'll be forced to be happy, again.
Conversations are made to ease the mind. The act itself is also a disturbance of the things that wants to be left alone. But it requires trust that the hearer is the entity that you need.
Gaps, holes, bowls, pores, hollow, space, empty, marc. All of these words denote something unoccupied, which can either be filled or left alone.People think I’m sad. But in reality, I’m just not happy.
Are you also in search for your own entity?
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
this.
The main point of this entry is to inform you that I’m still alive. It’s just that I’ve been doing a lot of things lately and my social networking site accounts can’t keep up with everything that I’ve been doing.
School is very hectic. Courses are starting to be extra demanding. Exams are piling up. Deadlines never die.
Is it my fault that I’m sensitive?
Sleep is a luxury. I was convinced that I can live with it at the barest minimum, not until I almost fainted amid a sea of people. But still, I’m in constant struggle between rest and shortened time to finish things that needs to be done.
I’ve been meeting new friends.
I hate stupid classmates. People should know what “homogenous” means so that when I use it, they won’t distort their faces while using context clues to understand what I meant. I hate a freeloader classmate, who does nothing but to ask what to do next. I hate fake British accents.
I’m falling in love with UST. I’m not sure what to feel with San Beda yet. I’m trying not to hate MIT.
The small pink laptop is not mine.
Old friends can be irritating. But you can’t be irritated. Wish you can stab and slash their napes. But then again, remember the idea behind “old friends”.
I’d rather buy a Lenovo over a Dinovo.
I tend to over read. So please don’t look at me that way. Fix your smile. I see regret. And you are afraid.
I think large Chai Tea Lattes are ordered so you’ll have company in the absence of anything living; to have something warm to combat cold stares; to have something processed when everything is senseless.
Issues, issues, and more issues. For as long as I’m not directly affected, you can make all the issues you want. Cross my border and let’s see what can happen. Dare?
First phase is denial. Second phase is acceptance. Third phase is chasing after the things that will make you happy.
I really don’t like running.
A friend once approached me, stared for a while, and drew circles in the air near my eyes. I said, “uhmmm…eye bags?”
You can walk fast to chase something.
Chillz is bliss. Find me in the nearest Mini Stop.
Trying to avoid sting.
But everything is.
Death can’t be felt by the dead or the living. We can all be dead and not know it.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
pidc 2009.
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It's the Philippine Inter-Collegiate Debating Championship 2009!
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
ang bagong version ng kwento ng pagong at ng kuneho.
Isang araw, may isang pagong na nakatira sa malayong lugar. Buti nalang medyo mataas yung lupa sa tirahan nila kaya ang tawag dun ng karamihan ay burol, hill sa English. Ngayon, yung pagong na yun kabilang sa isang malaking komunidad ng mga pagong. Kumbaga sa mga langgam, colony ang drama ng mga pagong na ito. Dahil langgam-langgaman silang lahat, bawat isa sa mga pagong dun sa burol ay may natatanging tungkulin. Ang bida nating pagong ay kabilang sa mga naghahanda ng pagkain para sa buong komunidad. Ang paniniwala ng mga pagong na ito, lahat ng bagay ay dapat pinag-iigihan. Kaya naman bilang isang pagong na nakatoka sa pagkain, pumapasok sa isang ekwelahan itong bida nating pagong. Ang tawag sa kanya ng buong komunidad ay Frog. Dati kasi sinubukan niyang tumalon mula sa tuktok ng burol. Kapos yung initial force, so hulaan mo nalang yung naging trajectory niya. Parang re-enactment lang ng Jack and Jill. So yun. Pero bawal ma-confuse kasi pagong pa rin s'ya, ah.
Sa kabilang lupalop naman, merong isang kuneho. Mas mababa yung lupa na tinitirahan nila kaysa dun sa mga pagong. Kaya naman ang tawag dun ng karamihan ay hill foot, walang direct translation sa Filipino. Ang kuneho na ito ay kabilang rin sa isang komunidad ng mga kuneho. Langgam-langgaman din ang moda nila, kaya naman ang lahat ay may tungkulin din. Sa ngayon, wala pang tiyak na trabaho itong bida nating kuneho. Ngunit pumapasok din s'ya sa isang eskwelahan upang linangin ang kanyang interes sa pagsusulat. Araw-araw nagsusulat itong bida nating kuneho ng samochi. As in for today magsusulat s'ya, S-A-M-O-C-H-I. Then kinabukasan magsusulat ulit s'ya ng S-A-M-O-C-H-I. Paulit-ulit lang yun, S-A-M-O-C-H-I. Pagkatapos n'ya magsulat, inilalagda n'ya ang pangalang Manoling.
Parehas na pala-kaibigan ang pagong at ang kuneho. Si pagong, halos puro guy pagongs yung friends n'ya. So pag nakikita niya yung mga kaibigan n'ya, ang bati ni Frog ay "Hey guys!" Meron din naman s'yang girl pagong friends. Mangilan-ngilan doon, tawag niya ay best friend. Si kuneho naman, halos equal ang dami ng guy kuneho at girl kuneho friends. Pero ang parating kasama ni kuneho ay yung girl kuneho friends n'ya. Wala kasing inatupag yung mga guy kunehos kundi maghanap ng girlfriends. Did I mention na may pagka-studious kasi itong si Manoling? Well, if I haven't, now you know. Minsan ng nagkaroon ng isang Grand Circumferential Area Get-Together Party sa buong kalupaan. Ibig sabihin lang nun, minsan ng nagkakilala itong si Frog at Manoling. Pero matagal na yun. Hindi sila close.
Isang gabi, may dinaramdam itong si Frog. Naisipan niyang umakyat sa tuktok ng burol upang magpahangin, tahimik rin kasi doon. 'Wag na natin pag-usapan kung bakit emo si Frog. Mahirap mag-expound, pero related ang puso. Hindi ako sure, pero barado ata yung isang ugat. Akala mo love life nanaman?! Anyways, nung gabi ring iyon nasa kalagitnaan ng pagsusulat itong si Manoling. S-A-M-O palang yung tapos. Hindi tiyak ang dahilan, ngunit namangha itong si Frog sa mga letra. Kung ikaw ba naman puro saluyot, kangkong, at kung anu-ano pang dahon kaharap mo halos araw-araw, hindi mo rin siguro maiiwasang mamangha. Oras na nun ng pagtulog, maaga pa kasi muling papasok itong si Frog. Kaya naman kahit hindi pa tapos magsulat si Manoling, iniwan na niya ito.
Naging tila adiksyon kay Frog ang mga letra. Naging habit na ang pag-akyat niya sa tuktok ng burol. Sinwerte siya dahil nung isang gabi na muli s'yang napadpad roon, nakita na niyang tapos ang sinulat ni Manoling. S-A-M-O-C-H-I. Pautal-utal niya iyong binasa. S-A-M-O-C-H-I. "Wow, that kuneho is great," wika niya sa sarili. Nabaling ang leeg ni Frog sa mga bagay na nakapaligid kay Manoling. Napansin n'yang matagal na nagsusulat ang kuneho, ang dami kasing samochi sa paligid. Nung oras ding iyon, may naganap sa puso ni Frog - bumilog iyon at tila naging bola.
Ilang araw nagmanman itong si Frog. Hanggang napag-desisyunan niyang kaibiganin na talaga si Manoling.
Malalim na ang gabi. Mula sa tuktok ng burol, kitang-kita ni Frog na nagsusulat pa rin itong si Manoling. "Perfect," wika ng pagong. Kaya bumaba siya sa tuktok ng burol at lumapit sa kuneho. "Hi!" ang unang salita na namutawi sa bibig ng pagong. Na-distract si Manoling, pero dahil friendly siya, nag-hi din s'ya. Hindi siya nag-e-expect ng follow-up, pero tumuloy pa rin sa pagsasalita itong si Frog. "Ang galing mo namang magsulat," sabi niya, "S-A-M-O-C-H-I." Nagitla ang kuneho. Hindi niya inaasahan na bukod sa mga kaibigan niya, may iba pang nagbabasa ng kanyang mga lathala. "Thanks," sagot ni Manoling. Nahiya ata muli itong si pagong, dahil pagkatapos niya marinig ang sagot ng kuneho, iniwan na niya ito at umuwi.
Hindi yun ang huling paguusap ng pagong at ng kuneho. Gabi-gabi bumibisita itong si Frog kay Manoling. Nung puntong iyon, matatawag mo na silang friends. Namutawi ang tuwa sa kuneho. Kasi naman may friend na siyang pagong. Would you believe it? Pero hindi pa rin sila close. Ngunit ang masama diyan, nakakahawa pala itong si Frog. Bumilog kasi bigla ang ulo ni kuneho. Sad, no?
Nauntog ata si Manoling sa tambak ng mga samochi sa paligid niya. Hindi siya makapaniwala na nung isang gabi lamang bumilog ang ulo niya. Ngayon, niyayaya na siya ng pagong na maging sila. Would you believe it? Even I can't. Pero since postmodern ang kwentong ito, we shall continue.
Ilang araw lang nanuyo si Frog. Ilang araw lang nakuha na niya ang gusto niya - ang kunehong si Manoling.
Masaya ang unang linggo ng pagsasama ng dalawa. Minsan lang sila magkita, dun pa parati sa hill foot. Medyo liberal kasi mga nilalang doon. Napakabihira rin kasi ng relasyong kuneho at pagong. Kahit pa sabihin mong sa past life ni Frog, siya ay isang kuneho, at sa past life ni Manoling, siya ay isang pagong, hindi pa rin swak ang pagsasama na iyon. Nabubuhay tayo sa present, remember?
Lumipas ang ikalawang linggo, steady lang sila. Pagdating ng ikatlong linggo, naging medyo marupok ang kanilang pagsasama. Paano ba naman, may nakita kasi itong si Manoling na "I love you" message para sa pagong mula sa isang kapwa kuneho. Amazing, right? Nagtanong ang kuneho sa pagong kung sino iyon. "Ex ko yun," sabi ni Frog. Ewan ko. Dahil na rin siguro, bilog na ang ulo ng kuneho, naniwala siya. Hindi na niya iyon pinansin, paano ba naman, "ex" na daw eh. Sabi nga sa eskwelahan ni Manoling, pag "ex" na ang tawag, ibig sabihin nun, parte na siya ng nakalipas. Nagtiwala ang kawawang kuneho. Nagtiwala si Manoling. Kaya tuloy pa rin ang kuneho-frog relationship.
Ikaapat na linggo na ng pagsasama ng dalawang nilalang nang magpaalam si Frog na 'di muna makikipag-usap. Paano ba naman kasi, busy daw sila sa eskwelahan nila sa paghahanda ng pagkain. Dumating na ang tone-toneladang suppy nila ng sayote, kangkong, at kung anu-ano pang dahon, at kailangan iyong ayusin. In short, sila ang naatasan maging in-charge sa lahat ng supply. Dahil naunawaan ng kuneho ang pangangailangan ng sitwasyon, pumayag siya. Nagtiis.
Dumating sa punto na di na nakapag-timpi pa si Manoling. Siya na mismo ang pumunta sa burol. Doon niya nakuha ang pangako ng pagong na sa susunod na linggo, maari na sila ulit makapag-usap. Nabuhayan muli ang kawawang kuneho.
Sumapit ang linggo na ipinangako ni Frog. Mamatay-matay na kahihintay si Manoling ng buong araw, pero wala. Ngunit dahil may tiwala pa rin siya sa pagong, naghintay siya muli. Umusad ang mga araw at ang bida nating kuneho ay naiwan pa ring nagaabang sa pagdating ng pagong, ngunit wala talaga. In other words, butata.
'Wag ka na magtaka kung ang susunod na mababasa mo ay tungkol sa hapis ng kuneho. Pero dahil medyo korni ang parte na iyon, at hindi naman ito Maalaala Mo Kaya, Aesop Fable Version. Lulundag na tayo sa yugto kung saan naranasan ng kuneho ang ultra sensible na Epiph - ang Epilogue.
Pagkatapos ng ilang linggo, napagtanto ni Manoling na ang gusto lang pala ng pagong ay makuha ang kanyang puso. Nakuha niya iyon. Alam na natin yan. Yun ay nangyari pagkatapos mabilog ang ulo ng kuneho. Mahina kasi yung kuneho. Hindi siya sanay sa ganyang bagay. Marahil kasalanan rin niya yan. Kung pinantay niya lang ang kanyang panahon para sa pag-aaral, pagsama sa mga girl kuneho friends niya, at pagsama sa mga guy kuneho friends niya na, as mentioned, halos walang alam gawin kundi maghanap ng girlfriends, hindi sana ito nangyari. Hindi rin pala ganun katalino ang kuneho. Tignan mo ngayon, emo ang moda ni Manoling. Nagmukha siyang tanga sa maraming pagkakataon. Alam niya 'yun. 'Wag mo na ulitin sa harap niya, baka the next thing you know, naglalaslas na sa isang sulok ang kuneho. Tulad ng kanyang mga kauri, kapag naiwan ng minamahal, nagpapakamatay. Pero naniniwala ako na hindi ganun ang bida nating si Manoling. Sabi ng mga matatabil ang dila, malakas siyang nilalang. Kahit durog na durog na siya sa loob, smile pa rin ng smile. Paano ba naman, may pagka-great pretender din ang drama niya. Tulad rin ng mga nawalan, magiging mabuti rin siya sa takdang panahon.
Habang nasasaktan itong kuneho, ang bida nating pagong ay hindi pa rin nagpaparamdam. Para sa kanya, ganun nalang kasi yun: Bumilog ang puso niya, kinailangan niya ng bagong puso, bumilog ang ulo ni kuneho, at nakuha ng pagong ang bago niyang puso. Yun ang hudyat ng pagkawala niya. Tila usok ng sigarilyo mong pinagkatuwaan; usok na biglang nawala; and the next thing you know, may lung cancer ka na, friend. Akala mo harmless, no? Akala rin nung kuneho.
Iwasan naman natin husgahan si Frog. 'Wag naman natin siyang tawaging user, manggagamit sa Filipino. Baka naman kasi natakot lang siya na matuklasan ng ibang pagong friends niya na may ka-relasyon siyang kuneho. Baka naman na-realize niya na iba pala magmahal ang kuneho, at 'di niya kayang tanggapin na hindi niya yun naranasan sa isang kapwa pagong. Baka naman confused si Frog, at hindi niya matanggap ang confusion. Baka naman kasi na-"fall out of love" lang ang pagong nung makakita siya ng starfish. O baka naman kahit mag-imbento tayo dito ng ilang milyong dahilan na pwedeng ng i-relate sa Global Financial Crisis, hindi natin malalaman ang tunay na motibo nung pagong, maliban sa gusto niya ng bagong puso at maliban rin kung magsasalita siya.
Nasa proseso pa rin ng paghihilom si kuneho. Si pagong naman, kasalukuyang nasa proseso ng pagdidiwang ng buhay. Whatever that means. Ipapaalala ko lang na postmodern ang kwentong ito, so dito na ito magtatapos. Iiwanan ko nalang kayo ng final words: Huwag ninyong gantihan ng masama ang masama. Sikapin ninyong mamuhay nang marangal sa lahat ng panahon. Hanggang maaari, makisama kayong mabuti sa lahat ng tao. Mga minamahal, huwag kayong maghihiganti. Ipaubaya ninyo iyon sa Diyos. Sapagkat nasusulat, "Akin ang paghihiganti, ako ang gaganti." Galing yan sa First Letter ni St. Paul to the Romans. Halata bang Catholic-school bred?
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