Nakita kita kanina. Nadaanan ka lang
ng dyip na sinasakyan ko. Ewan
baka nakita mo rin ako.
Kung napansin mo ko, yun ang hindi ko alam.
Malamang hindi.

Ganun ka pa rin, ganun ka palagi.
Magkasalubong na mga kilay,
nakakunot na noo. Siguro
dahil sa init. Ayun, kahit
mag-isa lang sa dyip, di
ko napiglan, napangiti na lang ako.

Nainis naman ako nung
isang beses, biglang
sinabi ng kaibigan ko, hindi raw
maganda yung ginawa **** artikulo. Ipagtatanggol
sana kita pero anong masasabi ko, eh
wala naman akong alam tungkol sa'yo.

Kaya eto pagdating ng bahay, binuksan
ko agad at binasa. Baka sakali
sa paraang ito maging close tayo.

At sa bawat salita, sinusubukang
intindihan ang ginawa mo. Pero ang totoo,
pinipilit intindihin ka. Baka
kasi dito, makilala kita.

Isang araw dati, lumabas ako
kasama ang isang kaibigan. 'Ah ok' na lang ang
nasabi ko, nang malaman kong
ang ex niya,
ay siya ring ex mo. Anliit
talaga ng mundo, noh?

Naalala ko tuloy nung hindi
mo kami tinulungan, kasi
busy ka, busy ka para sa bayan. Ayan,
lalo tuloy kitang nagustuhan.

Naisip ko nun, kahit
kelan hindi ako magiging bida
sa hawak **** kamera, kasi,
ang bayan mo, ang bayan ko, ang lagi **** inuuna.

Oo kahit ako natatawa, kasi
sobrang layo talaga ng
distansya nating dalawa. Mula
sa paniniwala hanggang sa mga ginagawa, hindi
kayang sukatin kahit ilang
ruler pa gamitin.

Hindi naman ako naghahangad
ng kahit ano. Ang makita ka nang di inaasahan,
sapat na yun. Ang mabasa
ka, okay na para isiping
kilala nga kita.

Makita lang ulit ang mga mata mo, maisip
o maalala lahat ng ito, okay na.
Pero sana alam mo,
may isang tao dito, napapangiti
dahil sa'yo.

Alam n'yo ang love, pag-ibig
o ano bang tawag n'yo d'yan,
kusang 'yang dumarating
di nga lang nagsasabi kasi wala 'tong bibig
(hayyy naku! naman oh!)

Pero ano ba kasi ang true love?
O baka kaya'y throw love na naman?
(tawa muna bago maging seryoso ang usapan)

Ito kasi yun, tama na sana! S'ya na sana!
Eh shunga-shunga ka eh!
Boy Gago! Lady Gaga! Pinakawalan mo pa.
(kaya ayun! iyak iyak na naman ang drama)

At napatanga sabay sabing
"Sayang!"
At wala ka ng magagawa
upang maibalik pa ang naudlot na love story n'yo.
(wag mo nang ipagkaila, tama ako noh?)

Nakakasawa rin naman pakinggan
ang mga hinaing n'yo!

Wala kaming hearing aid,
bespren n'yo lang kami!
(ano ba, tama na kasi! kasalanan mo rin yan!)

Puro pait at pighati na lamang ba?
Kaya ang isa sa inyo
naging PEANUT BITTER na!
(nakakasawa talaga, talagang talagang talaga!)

Kaya eto na nga'ng advice ko sa inyo...

Sabi kasi nila...

Ang love ay parang daw isang itlog...

'Pag hinigpitan mo ang hawak,
mababasag...

Pero 'pag maluwag naman,
mahuhulog lang at mababasag din...
kaya dapat tama lang...

Yung alam n'yong akma lang
sa eksena...

Kaya eto ako ngayon,
malungkot at nanggiginaw ang puso...
(hahahaist...)

Kaya bago matapos 'tong tula ko,
magtatanong muna ako...

Sino bang may gustong humawak ng itlog ko?

A bright light annoys my eyes.    I can’t get away from it- I don’t like it.  
Tired and overwhelmed with obligations and requirements,
I’d rather not complete or even think of-
I’d rather they did not exist.  

What do they prove?  

I am comfortable and lazy.  
I would like to sleep, but the smallest agitations are an unbearable annoyance.  
Obnoxious voices speaking a tongue I don’t know, laughing at my condition-
I’d rather be asleep-
quiet and asleep.  

I want a cigarette.  I hate cigarettes.  
I don’t hate cigarettes; I rather like them, especially with coffee,
but I hate how they manipulate me.  
I want one, but I’d rather sleep.  
I wish I could smoke in bed.  
I should have showered before bed.

Self-confidence comes and goes.  
Sometimes I don’t care what people think; other times it’s all I think about.  
It’s judgmental; it’s worry of acceptance, worry of not belonging, worry of standing out.  
People- including me- want to be individuals, but are not brave enough.  
Society does not accept true individuals, it kills them.  
How can I be unique or allow true self to be and true identity to exist when there is fear?

When I see her, I wonder what might have been.  
There was a connection, or maybe just an attraction.  
We lead different lives.  
She is pure and good in the church sense; I am pure and good in my own way.  
But, these two lifestyles could never intertwine.  
I must admire what she is from a far.  
I should not dwell on it too much because it is unfair to the present.  
We always want to know.  
We want to know the future, but I will get there at my own pace.

Lying in bed, I don’t remember most days.  
I only remember lying in bed the prior night, trying to remember the previous day.  
Sometimes I hate my body- not enough muscle, skinny legs, blah hair.  
Against society's standards I am mediocre.  
They know what a man should look like; I am not him.  
We are all not the portrayed he or she.  
Those people only exist on screens.  

This is the last place I want to be.  
Stuck in a class I couldn’t give a **** about,
listening to a Professor I can’t understand drone on and on in his sing-song,
marbled-mouth accent.  
Occasionally trying my patience with a drawn out, “You noh wah I main?”  
No.
I don’t know what you mean.  
I can’t understand what’s coming out of your mouth.

Apparently, the only way to be a good teacher is to jump through hoops and
dance for the cloudy heads of a department.  
If I play their games, I will have blisters on my lips from having to kiss too much ***.  
I do not need to be validated, approved, passed, accepted, or liked by them to be a good teacher.  
I know I will be a good teacher- they have no influence on that.  
They only have the ability to stall me and help steal my money.

The worst is when the pain sinks into your eyes, dull and deep.  
The pressure tunnels around your temples and tries to bore a whole through your forehead.  
Six Advil cover up the pain- only for an hour.  
Everything within your skull pushes out like a balloon on the brink of bursting.

The worst is the restless anxiety experienced lying in bed right before sleep.  
It is the empty churning of stomach, half shots of adrenaline that tickle your veins,
while the mind races like prey trying to evade predatory jaws.  
Your heart flits, skips, and stops,
as your mind obsesses about the seemingly infinite list of things you have to get done.  
That only adds to the stress- since you’re not sleeping, something could be accomplished.  
The worry heightens, the obsession increases until- sleep.

An instant of eye contact can be rare and intriguing.  
Instants too small to have time, can convey so much.  
Eye line meets eyes, eyes lock- message of vast information conveyed.  
A minute moment, an insignificant second, so monumental.  
This blip exchange ignites an internal fire of emotion or ruins your day.  
The messages that can be exchanged in the smallest,
feasible time frame are vastly unique to each experience.  
Polar and extreme: Love me - I nothing you.  
Eye contact conveys an incredible amount of information, but perhaps to be keen to it-
is to be vulnerable.  

What if it were acceptable to give into every desire or want?  
What would the world be?  
Would it be that much different or would the internal, human morale still enforce invisible boundaries?  
What would we do?  
Would the private become public?  
Would others see our lowest animal drive?  
Humans are the only being capable of acting above or below their nature.  
Rough.
Raw.  
Human animals.

It is ironic when something is built up to high expectations, but turns out anticlimactic.  
Was that it?  
That is what we waited for?  
When something does not meet expectations, it creates hollowness, an emptiness, or unfilled hole.
  
What do you do?  
What can you do?  
You can learn from it or you can let it bring you down.  
It is better to look for the positives
than dwell on and become disheartened by the negatives.  
Learn and Grow.

I am a poor student.  
I have been loaned money I will never be able to pay back.  
I am paying for a degree, to get a job that will never return the favor.  
I am strangling myself financially for a “higher education”, but am I getting it?  
Perhaps it is not the institution’s fault; perhaps, it’s my own?  

so much depends
upon

a green dollar
bill

glazed with American
greed

beside the fabricated
dream

I am poor and will be poor, but I will be happy.  
Everything costs.  Everything has a price.  Life is expensive.  
How can I save?  What can I afford to put away?  
When forty dollars in your bank account is a pleasant surprise-
surprises are cheap.