Freight

Late dusk. Time of departure was undisclosed.
The train's hiss declined as the fog came closer down.
As I looked at the few passengers, I bowed.
My luggage was as diffident as their looks.

And heavy.

The letters.
The post-its.
The paper bags.
The movie tickets.
The receipts.
The bus coupons.
The books.
The pictures.
The small boxes.
Even the torn papers.

Dismal, static and unresponsive.

...And the memory.
And the nostalgia.
And the word.

Heavy. Heavy. Heavy...

Retreating, yielding and courting...
The battle. The love. The daughter of demise.

The train's hiss halted.

The burden.
The heft.
The monster.
The monster.
The monster.

Heavy.

Hours passed. As I handed over my luggage, I stared at it.
Its threads were loose and the wrinkles of its bygone bulk were dreary.
The fogs had finally settled over the station. Dawn was coming.
The once unerring void was now too full for any, for any more.
It was time to go. Time of departure.

The train hissed loudly.

It was morning.
Light, finally.

Light.

Fall

Like a leaf on an autumn day, I drop helplessly.
The branch is sturdy but, its hold is weak.
Pale yellow, thirsty and withered, the leaf floats with no sound.
Only the wind -- so gentle yet so determined -- carries it downwards... whispering, whispering muteness that deafens me.
Summer is over.

As I watch the sky -- once so light -- grow farther, I remember the warmth. The warmth that was summer. The warmth that was.
Pale brown, steady and stoic, the branch remains with no restraint.
Only the cold -- imminent and austere -- counters its apathy... bursting, bursting muteness that deafens me.
Summer is over.

To the heap of the heartless and the dead I come closer.
Silently, I join them. Still, silence knows not only assent.
Pale, pale and pale, I lay with neither sound nor restraint.
Only the crease of my skin -- sore and unrelenting -- looks up... crying, crying muteness that deafens him.
Summer is over.

The Weatherman

Tonight, I have shed rain -- inadvertently, incessantly and indifferently. It has flowed like torrents that my breathing has alternately cracked and faltered. I have never had an outpouring since that time too olden to be remembered.

Yet, with the shade that has sustained its hold and has then altered my perceived frailty, my ducts have slowly cleared.

Your presence -- undeniable and never really gone -- has tamed the nimbus.

The rain has stopped.

Finally, clear skies are upon us.
Once again....
Once again.

Stuck

I miss the apathy.
The chaos.
The speed.
The insomnia.

I miss you, Manila.

I miss your pain.

But, I need to miss you more.

Hemorrhage

My heart is great.
It beats drums.
It pumps crimson.
And it breathes elixir.

My heart is mighty.
It is skinned with metal.
It is nailed with steel.
And it is grounded with gold.

It is beauty.

It is mine and I have given it to you.
Wholeheartedly.

Yet, yet, this thing...
Its beat deafens.
Its pump overflows.
Its breathing halts.
Its skin rusts.
Its nails loosen.
Its ground mutilates.
Its beauty fades.

And it pains like crazy.

Secret Garden

Haze.
Smoke.
Dimness.
Darkness.
Pitch black.

Then, a beat.
A thump.
A whisper.
A spoken word.
A glimmer.

With every sound, the littlest of the light grows and glows.
The music illuminating stalls my withering.
My roots dig the ground farther and my leaves possess the air wider.
Keep me moist, keep me breathing, keep me alive.
Keep me loved. Keep me loving.

ONE.

It takes:
a second to look;
a minute to risk a second glance;
an hour to assess further;
a day to decide;
a week to say the three words;
a month to make sure you aren't joking; and
a YEAR to finally affirm that from the very first moment until indefiniteness, you're right -- and yes, I am right.

I'll say these words once again for there has never been time when I was ashamed to do so -- and there never will be: I love YOU, still and always.

Human

I am completely aware that some people don't like me.

And I am completely aware that some people don't like the other, either.

Almost a year ago, a bond I forged (and still dearly hold today) with the other resembled that of an opened Pandora's Box. Many from both sides elicited varied reactions that we were petrified for alternate moments, seemingly clueless of the gravity of our once "harmless" relationship.

Indeed, humans will be humans. There is no feasible way of pleasing anyone with any single or collective move -- no matter how we painstakingly try. There will always be pride and prejudice (Jane Austen, anyone?).

But, what could we do? We have stronger hearts. So, we moved on -- surrounded by whispers too loud to mock the disguised silence, and by stares that shame even the lingering smell of unwanted air in an enclosed room.

Now -- though the whispers have allied in part with the walls, and the stares have adapted with the sight they once were incredibly amazed with -- humanity and its imperfections remain open for exhibition and lashing.

I believe that no man is completely the same with another precisely because conflict is one inevitable earthly activity. Conflict brings life to life itself. Conflicts make us think, make us greater and make us better -- even if these conflicts be of silent wars and of unintentionally cold ones.

If I be allowed to, may I ask: must love -- that "simple four-letter word" be always made complicated and restrained when the only premise for social ranting is the fact that the parties composing it aren't the ones "we" are used to seeing -- and believing?

Borderline

No matter how blurry one's sight is and no matter how persistent his legs are rooted in someone's ground... either rain, storm or sanity may take down the smog and soften the soil. Another, another... another -- more illuminated and deserved -- may be its unintentional offspring.

Bent

There was a time when I loathed the fact that my hands were not as stiff as my father's and the actuality that I could not woo without limping a deceivingly harmless ball. But, as reality had it, loathing -- and concealing -- those seemingly bit-sized personal details only made my disillusions blurrier. The awkwardness of every moment hidden behind a crumbling put-on always felt like eons in front of a rowdy circus crowd. I had them amazed; but, most of the time, I felt like they were just snorting, secretly and loudly.

So, I decidedly left the carnival -- my self-made roller coaster. The crowd had enough one-sided, perverted entertainment and I had, too. I could not forever keep "pet peeve-ing" my arse.

Now, I think I am breathing more air -- light and overt air. Though I have never seen my shadows as unswerving as any man's ruler, my passageways can finally clearly breathe in -- and out. I don't mind anymore the mouths that babble and the eyes that gawk. After all, their cages are rusty and what they have are mere piths too trifling for substance.

Everyone has their own credo. Mine says I have never been incorrigible, only once deluded.

Thank You

For a quarter of a century, I had a dream.
For more than 4 years, I tried to pursue it.
For 6 months, I alternately persevered and retreated.
For more than a month, I attempted to be in my strongest and most persistent form.
On the last day of the exams -- that final second when I finally wrote the last punctuation mark on my booklet -- I succumbed at last. I whispered a prayer and surrendered everything to Him.

For another 6 months, I waited.

They say, the waiting part was the hardest. It really was. There were days when I thought that my dream was just etched in sleep -- in unconsciousness -- and could never be realized elsewhere. I was in limbo; I didn't know where to go or who I was supposed to be. I felt worthless, as if I was there just shiftlessly waiting for that dreaded word that had long been said.

But, now, the smog beneath my roads has finally settled and I can now see and breathe with no hesitation.

The word has finally been said; and it is "YES."

For a second, my dream has finally become real. I am no longer a dreamer. :)

A BIG THANK YOU...

to Mommy, Daddy, Lola & Lolo who have always believed in the beauty of my dream despite my countless downfalls, incurable childishness and juvenile behavior;

to my brothers & sisters who have always tolerated -- and understood -- my jungle-like ways;

to my friends/relatives who have given me a bed to sleep on when I was too drunk to face the sober world; who have shared with me gazillions glassful of alcohol when almost everything seemed too cruel for my taste; who have been my counselors, shrinks, ghost busters, companions-for-keeps; who have been there through thick and (overly) thin; who have been there and always will be -- no matter what;

to that special someone whom I have been with through some of the stormiest weathers and who has still managed to stay;

to everyone who has taken their time to be part of this triumph; and,

to GOD, I can never thank You enough -- You're the greatest. :D

Happiness -- though as evasive as the wind and as sulky as the clouds on a summer day -- does sometimes exist... and I am thankful I am happy.

FFD: Friends for Discharge

Just last night, I discovered that one of my Facebook 'friends' finally decided to 'un-friend' me. Only he (I'll call him *****) knew the exact fateful second when he clicked the x button beside my trembling profile picture in the 'edit friends' option that finally gave me the stranger boot. Ouch.

This is how it happened: it was past 11 and I was still restless. FB had to be the pacifier for the night. As I was typing a friend's name in the search box, ***** also appeared in the choices (since his name has chronological letters resembling the former's). Luckily(?), FB recently enhanced its search feature; thus, paving way for my not-so-landmark-discovery. I didn't know what came over me, but I clicked the thumbnail that led to his account -- and, viola, there appeared on top of his profile the 'add as friend' button. My jaw dropped. (Well, not really. Hehe.) How could I add him as a friend when he's a friend already -- or was?

Then, it all made sense. Okay, he had decided that our so-called friendship now belongs to the bygones bin. Too bad.

However, he wasn't really a 'friend' (of course, if we're after the ordinary definition of the term, not the social network-ish type); he just added me once upon a time for the sake of surveillance, for the lack of a better word. (We haven't met even once. It just happens that I am, say, deeply connected to one of his, uh, quests; hence, his curiosity. Go figure.) I was completely aware of such agenda, but I didn't care. I opted to feed his hunger for information. Apathy is empathy. Now, it is apparent that his espionage is over; thus, my place in his friends' list serves no other purpose, except maybe to remind him that in every list, there's one odd out. Or maybe the mere publication of my posts in his home wall or my humongous pa-cute profile pictures finally got the best of him. No sour grapes there -- or are there?

Social networks really are funny sometimes. They say, such networks are founded to bring people closer -- physically, romantically, or what-have-you. Nowadays though it seems the purpose clause of the social networks has expanded to include alienation or further estrangement of so-called friends, like what happened to ***** and yours truly.

In fact, it is already a bore if a social network denizen compares the number of his [social network] friends to one of his perceived more popular friend's own. (If he wins, the triumph only lasts for a good lonesome minute and only in that social sphere, if it may be appropriately called so, since in the real world, the latter really has more friends -- the moving ones, with no duplicates or pseudonyms -- and the former is just too conceited to admit such bummer fact.) Hence, to give one social network habitue's networking life and self-esteem a boost, spying on or lambasting co-Facebookers, for example, somewhat gives his morale its tap on the shoulder. It really is funny. Well, I, too, am guilty of these guilty pleasures.

Then, there's the segregation. Facebook ought to have notifications or wall posts which say, "***** removed you as a friend," or "You are no longer friends with *****. [Comment] [Like] [Share]" Hahaha.

Indeed, it is unfortunate that I and my former FB buddy have to end our FB experience on a sour note. But, hey, life -- and social networking -- go on. So, for you, reader (if there is!), if you haven't invited me to FB yet, find my profile (that's Martin General, thank you very much), click the 'add as friend' button and wait. Don't worry, I won't be clicking that x button beside your overly pa-cute profile picture. :)

"A feeling I never outgrew..."

I am reading between the lines...
and they are crooked.

Turbulence

Funny how the obvious becomes such only when it's already too late to make it so.
Funny how things seem when persistence paves way for reason.
And funny how the truth makes all a lie, all of a sudden.

Yoyo

you looked at the pillar.
then, the others.
i didn't move.
but my eyes did.

you gave me a wave.
then, another.
still, i didn't move.
still, my eyes did.

then... i did.
i did move.
one step. two. three.
i was running.

then you made a whisper.
i didn't hear you; you weren't shouting.
i needed you to tremble me.
to stop me... from running.

you whispered again.
my feet listened, but nothing else did.
i stopped running.
quickly. randomly. undecidedly.

why can't you raise your voice any higher?
now, my feet are moving again.
walking.
walking?

Reshuffling

I want to hug you so tight and tell you I hate you so.

I want to hit you and tell you how much -- how much -- I love you.

3rd Strike

It's over. But, my road still has its crosses and sunrises. I'm leaving that place I have dwelt in not so comfortably -- though happily -- for almost a year. My journey is still long. Even though I have dreamed, or vainly thought, of trekking my pathways with no void beside me, I guess now I have to bear the solitude. This has a reason... and I know someday, somehow it will make sense.

MWHD

I have got no time for thinking for I only have a few words.

Three words.

And you know I always do. :)