Tirik na tirik ang araw no’n, at narinig ko ang galabog ng pinto. No’n pa lang alam ko na. Pinihit ko ang gripo nang lumakas ang tulo ng tubig, pagkatapos ay mabilis na binuhos ang tabo sa aking katawan. Mabilis na mabilis, kasama ang ingay ng tubig sa timba, malamon lang ang ingay ng paghuhubad ng sapatos at medyas, ang pagpapalit ng karsunsilyo, ang biglaang bagsak ng mga pinto ng aparador at kusina at ng bodega. Pinapagod ko ang sarili sa kakabuhos at kakasalok ng tubig, akyat baba, akyat baba, hanggang sa hingalin ako’t naghahalo na ang pawis sa malamig na tubig nawasa, at ang pawis ng takot at kaba sa batok. Nakakanginig ang lamig, nakakalunod ang pagbulaga ng tubig sa mukha, minamanhid na ang katawan ko sa tubig, na kung iisipin ay unti-unting kinukulubot ang lahat–ang paningin at ang balat, ang hilagyo, ang malay-tao.
Sumambulat s’ya sa banyo mula sa pinto, at ang galabog ang tumabon sa halos huni ng mga mabibigat at matatalas na patak ng tubig.
Putangina, mura n’ya.
Kung sa bagay, naibibili ko naman s’ya ng mga kasuotang may kuwelyo, nasabi ko sa sarili. Ninais ko n’ong magrason, magpaliwanag na hindi ito ang intensyon ng mundo. Sasagipin ta’yo ng kung ano mang diyos, dahil balang araw at malulunod din tayo tulad ng iba, tulad ni Rosing at Tonio, tulad ng mga kapitbahay hanggang sa kabilang nayon.
Hindi ko alam, hindi ko alam! at sinundan ko ng mabibilis na iling, ang pinagpawisang tubig sa anit tumatalamsik sa kanyang galit, huminahon ka, maaga pa, siguro nga’y wala nang palaman ang tinapay.
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September 1, 2010, 7:12 pm, filed under Tagalog, Vignettes. Comments.
All the blue books and pens doing the necessary scratches. Friction. Enumerate twelve signs why Kevin has been doing roughly nothing lately. Oh yes, I’ve been in this war in Zimbabwe or someplace and I had to befriend a general. If not, we’re stewed. There is this slight buzz in my head in my ten-minute walk en route the apartment. The bliss of guilt. The comparisons. Two years ago I would have made quite a little effort for an exam. I rarely learn from exams (in the strictest sense of the word). My French professor must have been wondering what the hell have I been up to? That happens when it’s the only subject you have in a day. In my case I tend to slack and watch porn. Read some article about this and that. The boring life. I just want to keep myself busy with my lips, peeling off the skin. Now it’s like seeing craters off some distant red planet.
For a 10AM class I smoke a cigarette. I find comfort in the dust of the leaves. Whenever I say ephemeral–well, I don’t say such word. Some words are just really manly, like cavort or raucous. Ephemeral is much like gossamer hung with a wooden clothespin.
Saturday always gets it.
Wait, I have this hangnail and it hurts. You’ll know when it hurts. Tried fishing my wallet in my pocket, I ended up yelping.
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, 3:10 am, filed under IRLs, Life at UPLB. Comments.
In a debut the mother was crying. She was trying to compose her message as the fountain behind her spews water like a geyser in the middle of Bryant Park. You could fit in a hundred debuts in the price tag, so her relatives couldn’t figure out if she was crying over the bills. She said she’s proud to have a grown-up girl. She said she would really love to go home. The debutante sits on her throne, watching the projected Skype conversation, webcam and all. At first, the people who attended didn’t fret in their seats, but they scavenged over an entire neighborhood of grilled chicken. They ignored the waiter’s warning that the buffet’s not yet ready, the chickens not yet carved.
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, 2:40 am, filed under Slang and random, Stress ball narratives, Vignettes. Comments.