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Left to themselves,
—words turn to prayer

Wishes now blessings,
—hope in the air

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
I- Insight without intuition
N-Never to understand
T-Trapping what can’t be caught
E-Endgame to confound
R-Riddle we play with ourselves
E-Earnestly said nothingness
S-Spoken in bewilderment
T-Time and again
I-In our ongoing confusion
N-Never capturing why
G-Gravitas without Veritas

— Interesting!

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)
“Naaalala mo pa ba ako?”
Iyan ang pangungusap na maaaring itanong sa’yo ng mga laruan mo noong iyong kabataan.
Mga laruang naitabi’t nakalimutan na at maaaring nasa talampas na ng mga bagay na malapit nang mailagay sa tapunan.
Mga nagsilbing matalik **** kaibigan noong ika’y talagang nangangailangan.
“Naaalala mo pa ba ako?”
Tanong na hindi mahirap sagutin ngunit sakit lamang ang maibibigay.
Naalala mo man ngunit hindi na nabigyan ng pansin at tuluyan nang nawalan ng taglay
Tanong ng mga laruan mo na tuluyan nang nakalimutan at hindi na nabigyan ng hanay


Kung ang mga laruan mo ay makakapagsalita, ano kaya ang sasabihin nila sa’yo?

“Kaibigan, naalala mo pa ba noong tayo’y magkasamaa? Noong ako at ikaw lang ang natatanging tao sa mundong ating tinatayuan. Noong araw araw pag uwi mo galing sa paaralan ay hahanapin mo agad ako at kakausapin. Hindi napapansin na ako ay pinaglalaruan mo lamang. At iyon ang natatanging silbi ko. Isang laruang posibleng mapalitan pag nakahanap ng katapat na mas karapat dapat… Masakit maging laruan.”

Siguro nga hindi nakapagsasalita ang mga laruan. At iyon ang tanging rason kung bakit sila naimbento; para magsilbing panlibang sa mga naiinip. Pagdating ng panahon ay itinakda silang ipamigay o kaya nama’y kalimutan na at itabi sa isang madilim na kahon ng walang hanggan.

Ang mga laruang minsann nang itinakda na maging panangga sa kainipan. Masakit maging laruan.

Pero bakit ako na hindi laruan ay napapatanong na rin? “Naaalala mo pa ba ako?” Kasi minsan nagtataka na ako kung pumapasok pa ba ako sa isip mo. Tuluyan na ba akong nawalan ng taglay na hindi mo na ako maihanay sa oras **** mamahalin? Alam ko na hindi ako itinakda na maging panangga sa kainipan pero bakit ganoon na ang aking nararamdaman? Tuluyan na nga bang nakalimutan? Ako na natatanging andyan tuwing ika’y nangangailangan, ngayon naging laruan na di man lang masulyapan.

Masakit maging laruan

Masakit mapaglaruan

Masakit na gumawa ng sakripisyo kung hindi mo rin naman ito bibigyan ng pakinabang. Kung magsisilbi lang ako na libangan tuwing iyong kailangan. Mahirap umasa sa mga bagay na matagal nang hindi nagpapakita. Pero kahit na minsa’y napapatanong narin ako… Nagbubulag-bulagan ako dahil… Mahal kita

Mahal kita kahit na matagal mo na akong itinambak sa kahon kasama ang mga papeles na mayroong mga walang saysay na salitang nakalimbag.
Mahal kita kahit na ginawa mo akong laruan sa panahon na ika’y nangangaliangan.
Mahal kita kahit na ni isang sulyap ay hindi mo ko mabigyan.
Mahal kita kahit masakit na.

Pero minsan, napapatanong na rin ako;

Naaalala mo pa ba ako?
This is a filipino poem.
“Fading into oblivion is inevitable. In the end, even the most permanent marks are soon to be in obscurity.”
They raised me to be who I am,
And I could never have been any different.
They spent countless hours nurturing me and cherishing
Every achievement throughout my life.
I loved them so much, and I'd have done anything for them,
Will still do anything for them, because I knew they loved me back.
Until they pushed me away from them,
Sent me falling through the sky and got the hell away from me
As though I was nothing to them anymore,
Never had been their little boy.

And I fall through clouds like they don't want to be near me,
And I fall until the details below me come into focus.
I cry when I see the city, the buildings, the people.
I cry because I know now why I was created.
They come closer to me as I move closer to them,
And I can feel my insides start to churn,
And then it burns before I've even reached the ground.
I'm blinded by the brightness of my own incineration,
And with my last thoughts I beg everyone below me,
Though they can't hear me under the roar of death,
"Please don't look at the light."
Hiroshima.
It was said that anything could change in a blink of an eye
That life could evolve, why not give it a try?
An average human being blinks twenty-three thousand and forty times a day.
That could result to twenty-three thousand and forty revolutions by the way.

So I started to stare at the mirror, to wonder and think.
Why not observe and see what’d happen if I blinked.
Would my life revolve to the way I wanted it to be?
Would I become like the celebrities and the people I conceived?

I tried blinking once. Not a single thing has changed.
I’m still looking at the person that I’ve always despised.
Whose life can never, and I mean ever be arranged.
The kid who always ends up crying and mortified.

I tried blinking again. For the second time.
I realise how ugly I am. How cringeworthy my face is.
If there’s a scale, I would be zero for attractive basis.
No offense(If I’d offend myself), I look like I’d commit a crime.

For the third time, I blinked again.
Veins started to grow, giving in to the pain of my complains.
Fogs started to cover my ugly reflection.
The thorns injected me with doses that affected my complexion.

I started to feel weak. I started to hold on to the wall.
I wished that this could stop in a blink.
The mirror started to be covered with ink.
I’ve always learned to hold back for the fear that I’d fall.

For the fourth time, I blinked.
The mirror started to have cracks. I tried to stop it.
My blood dripped from it like an ink.
It made a shape that looks like a target.

I blinked again. Fifth, sixth, seventh to the twenty-three thousand and thirty-fifth time.
I blinked again. It’s all the same, each time it happens it just gets worse.
I blinked again. Losing all the words in my head. Losing the letters to build a rhyme.
I blinked again. I started to feel numb, realising that nothing really mattered.

I stared at the broken mirror. Realising each edges.
I’ve never really looked “human" in a broken mirror.
I remembered Him who payed for my wages.
At that moment, despite of the broken mirror, I started to see clearer.

I closed my eyes. Longer than what a blink should be.
I felt His touch. His healing, running through my veins.
I felt him. And his name is Love, who broke all my chains.
For the first time, with closed eyes, I could see.

For the last time, for the twenty-three thousand and fortieth time.
I blinked, staring at the mirror. The cracks started to disappear.
I smirked and felt the change. The change that I’m now whole with the Great I Am.
Nothing more, nothing less. It’s the love of Love I’d only fear.
This piece is meant to be spoken.
Hug
Oh dear, to see thee makes I leap in joy
Lively domicile, this, pulls me to thee
Moment is this, want I not to destroy
So could I cling to thy shoulders and squeeze?

— The End —