Tuesday, June 30, 2009


You feel so old, you tell her once.

She laughs and says that you’re silly. Your age is still spelled with ‘teen’, she points out, and any age with ‘teen’ on it is not old yet.

You chuckle, but you insist that you really feel old. Sometimes you even feel like you're old enough to be someone's dad.

She doesn’t answer, but she sits up on the bed. It would have been her pleasure to tell you that you're too moody to be a dad, but she sees that you seem too tired from battling your mathematical monsters for a playful banter. She refuses to admit it, but you’re that important now – important enough to make her adjust to your moods. So she keeps quiet and keeps her thoughts to herself.

She watches you continue your mad computations and tells herself that maybe all that acad stuff is just stressing you out, that’s why you feel old. Or maybe it’s not really the acads – maybe it’s the reality that these acads bring. You’re graduating soon, you need to find a job, you need to rake in big bucks like your brother, you need to be the good and grateful son that your parents need.

She remembers having asked you once what you wanted to do after college – you said you’re not sure, you might take Law or get an MA. But it doesn’t matter, you added. What’s important is that you know what you want in the end. You’ll just find a way to get there. She took one look at your grinning face and knew that you meant it.

You continue working on your computations. She yawns and tells you that it’s two in the morning and she’s sleepy. Go ahead, you tell her. You’ll only be up for another hour and then you’ll hit lights out too. She closes her eyes to welcome sleep, but not before looking at you one last time and deciding that this must be part of your finding a way to get to where you want to be, wherever that is.

She wakes up a couple of hours later, at around four thirty. She finds you asleep on a pulled-out bed on the floor, your peaceful teenage face bearing no trace of the feeling of old age that you were talking about. She lays her head back on the pillow, but she doesn’t close her eyes.

For most of her life, she’s been a cross-the-bridge-when-you-get-there kind of person, just like you are. But now, because of her earlier thoughts, she finds herself thinking about her ‘where I want to be in the end’ and how she would get there. Her ideas about the earlier are vague – becoming a financial analyst would be okay, raking in a hundred grand monthly would be fine, having a kid or two sounds so-so. The only thing she’s sure is that somehow she wants you to be a part of her future.

But the latter is a different story – she is absolutely clueless about how she would become an FA, where she would get the hundred grand is a mystery and the idea of having kids suddenly sounds bad. Most of all, how will you be a part of her future if she keeps pushing the ‘me and you’ away?

She guesses that she fell asleep while thinking about all of these because the next thing she knew, she was opening her eyes to the cheerful sunlight. She rubs her eyes clear just as you return to the room from the shower.

You grin at her and say good morning.

She smiles back, and suddenly she knows that she doesn’t really need to worry about the future.

Because everything will be alright.

Monday, June 29, 2009

Monsod, clap clap clap!

“There are some things in life that simply cannot be explained. Like how some people pass UPCAT but fail Ateneo. I mean, anong nangyari? That cannot be!”

-Prof. Toby Monsod, Econ 131.

Clap clap clap! No other words needed. ^_^

Wednesday, June 24, 2009


Kanina sa Natsci 1.

Binuksan nya ang pinto, pumasok sa room at agad umupo sa unang bakanteng upuan na nakita nya. (Dapat lang, almost twenty minutes na syang late, e.) Yon din yung upuan na inupuan nya last meeting, yung dulong chair sa harap. Katabi ng akin.

Oo, sya yung kinekwento ko na seatmate kong kamukha ni Chris Richardson ko. (AI Season 6)

“Excuse me…” sabi nya. “Ano na’ng ginawa?”

“Sinulat lang nya yung schedule ng exams tas nag monologue na si Sir.” Sagot ko. (Totoo naman e.)

Tumawa sya at nilabas ang notebook nya. “Pwede pa-kopya?” At dahil madali akong kausap, binigay ko naman ang notebook ko. “Thanks.” Sabi nya. “I’m Francis. Pol Sci.”

“Nic. Econ.” Sagot ko.

“O? Hindi halata.” Sabi nya habang sinisimulang kopyahin ang notes ko.

Hindi ako sumagot. Tinignan ko lang sya habang nagsusulat sya. ‘Hindi halata’? Is that supposed to be a compliment? In the first place, ano ba ang ibig nyang sabihin sa ‘hindi halata’? Baket, ano ba ang itsura ng halatang econ?

Napansin siguro nya na hindi ako sumagot dahil tumigil syang kumopya ng notes at tinignan nya ako ulit.

“I mean, hindi ka kasi conyo.” Tuloy nya.

Napataas nalang ang kilay ko. Fuck, Francis, pasalamat ka kamukha mo yung crush ko.

Binalik ko nalang ang mga mata ko kay Sir Abastillas na nagmomonologue pa rin, humahagikgik sa sarili nyang jokes. Pero sa tenga ko, parang naririnig ko pa rin yung sinabi ni Francis. ‘Hindi ka kasi conyo.’

At sa di malamang kadahilanan, unti-unting nabuo ang mukha ni Jerome Venzon Caylao sa isip ko.

Monday, June 22, 2009


I saw you yesterday.

I was about to move closer to the car in front of me in the usual SM exit traffic when you passed by. At first I wasn’t really sure if it was you, so against my better judgment and my father’s constant reminders I kept my eyes off the road and looked at you instead. And yeah, it was you.

For a moment I considered rolling down the windows and calling out your name (Boy, was I that glad to see you again?) But as you walked by my car I realized that it would have been useless. Well, suppose I did call you out and you did look back; what was I supposed to say or do next?

I didn’t know. So I kept still and followed you with my eyes until you became a small brown dot that gradually disappeared behind the row of cars behind me.

But Jay, I know now. I know what I should have said.

It’s been a while since we last saw each other, ne? God, for seventeen you look too old for your age. Is that what one week of med school has done to you? Yeah, speaking of med school, how’s UPM? I’ve been there just once, it’s not the nicest place, but I know how much you want to be a doctor so I guess you’ll deal. By the way, I had dinner with your friends the other night. They’re so innocently GC!

And oh, do you remember that piece of paper I gave you the last time we saw each other? The one with my smiley on it? Did you keep it? Because I kept the one you gave me.

Well, I’ve got to get going now. Good luck with your acads, although I seriously think that you don’t need that much luck. You’re just about the most intelligent person I’ve known – well, except for Marco Lansangan and Buduy Mallari.

And Jay… I… never mind. See you around.

Ekvilibriumm | Creative Commons Attribution- Noncommercial License | Dandy Dandilion Designed by Simply Fabulous Blogger Templates