She's back at it again. The amount of her friends' impatience towards her psychotic thoughts can never be equated to her very own exhaustion of her entire being. She, for the nth time, wants to leave the world.
She slams the door real hard as she walks out the room, which she shares with her three roommates. She's out of the room as she's out of her mind. She seeks for a space where she can fit herself. The innocent fire exit has no choice but to accept again, the traitor tears, the unending complaints, and even the stomping on the floor and the punching on the wall. From her view on the 12th floor, the busy streets of G. Tolentino and Laong Laan distract her.
"I can't even understand myself, how am I supposed to comprehend this blur?" she's now even fighting with her alter-ego. Everything is a mess. Everything is blurred. She hates herself for being four-eyed. She has no choice but to go back to the room just to get her glasses with 200-175 grade. Now, everything is clear. Not as clear as her life is going, though, but, at least, she can now clearly see the chaos that is the city of Manila.
Her eyes walk through G. Tolentino and the bittersweet memories of the off-campus practicum come rushing through her mind. She would ride the jeepney from G. Tolentino-Laong Laan all the way to Casañas-Dapitan. From there, she would walk three blocks before she could reach the public school where she would teach ninth and tenth graders. She was glad because of the warm welcome of the students, and at the same time, mad, because of the horror of the reality in the public school — the politics among the faculty. She shrugged it off and just continued with what she was supposed to do.
After each shift, she would walk four blocks to reach the one-way street where she could ride the jeepney back to her area. She would alight at Delos Reyes Street so she could rest for a while in her unit. In-campus practicum's at 12:30 P.M. anyway, she thought.
And now she's back at the fire exit at the 12th floor. The rays of the sun almost blind her. She blames herself for abusing her eyes way back in her childhood years. Now, she can't enjoy the wonders of life without her nerdy glasses. She unconsciously moves her left foot away from the shade of the sun because of the trauma from last year. Two painful experiences race through her mind, as if it's a contest on which should be recalled first. Of course, the more painful wins — getting kicked out of an all-ladies dormitory, together with her girlfriend, because of their, obviously, ****** preferences. It still haunts her until now. The 2nd runner-up, on the other hand, is the less painful, and therefore, the consequence of the first painful experience — having to find another dormitory during broad daylight, because of course, nighttime in Manila is utterly dangerous.
Starting from Dos Castillas, they seemed like two meerkats digging a tunnel, finding for a place to live. Apparently, posting on Dorm Hunters in Facebook was not as good as literally going through the fires of all big streets combined — España, Lacson, Dapitan, and P. Noval. She was supposed to prepare for practicum, while her girlfriend was supposed to prepare for thesis, yet there they were, harrowing Manila because it seemed like a big head with strands of hair full of lice. After almost a week of searching for a place, they had finally settled to a totally different one from their previous dormitory.
And now she's back at the fire exit at the 12th floor. She hopes her roommates aren't there, but they are, so she has no choice but to calm down. Boy, was it difficult to calm down! She stares at the sun as it sets, until it is finally out of sight. A tiny object catches her attention —it is an airplane. An airplane which brings her yet again to another memory, and at the same time, encourages her on her dream to travel the world.
It was once again a competition on which should be set forth. Again, the more powerful wins — the memory of someone leaving. Way back in her childhood years, whenever she would see an airplane, she would envision them riding that airplane, and finally going back home. She grew up tired waiting. They eventually came home, but she didn't care anymore whether she would stay or she would leave again. News flash! She left again. And again. And again. Now it doesn't matter to her anymore whether they come home or not. She still loved them either way. She just stopped wondering, asking, questioning, and all the other synonyms of asking why.
The pain of that memory is so strong, she is excited to overcome it immediately with her dream of traveling the world. An imaginary globe appears right in front of her face. Several people of different races talk to her. Oh boy, was she excited! Oh yes, she is! She can't stop giggling from the thought of her travelling and speaking different languages.
With all these memories, she calms down and finally goes back to the room, where her roommates already fell asleep. The sultry from outside of the room gets forgotten because of the air conditioner, which calms her more. She goes up to her bed on the double deck and listens to worship songs to calm herself even more. She falls asleep so easily but her sleep gets interrupted right away. It's 7 'o clock in the evening and her roommates invite her to dinner. They decide to eat at McDonald's in P. Noval. She's still lost from the 'traveling' she did that afternoon. She's still not on her mind the entire dinner, until they return to their room.
She goes out of the room again, but not to stay at the fire exit, but to actually get some fresh air. Unfortunately, there is no fresh air in Manila. She notices how dangerous the streets in Manila are during nighttime. Although it is dangerous as well in daytime, the only difference is there is a sun. Different kinds of poor people are all over the streets of Manila and it haunts the hell out of her. It brings back the horrors and traumas from her past—being prone to accidents and misfortunes. She goes back to the fire exit and indulges herself to another reflection.
She went out to get some fresh air, but she only got her wounds fresh yet again.
She looks again at the view from the 12th floor and realizes how the streets around the campus of her university have been haunting her. She tries to overcome her fears with the good memories. This time, she wins. She, then, releases her emotions by writing everything. In this way, she thinks, she will be able to let go of everything. As soon as she finishes the last part, she runs out of words and decides to end everything —just like that.
written back in May 2016 for a school requirement. i know this is not a poem, but i have nowhere else to share this to.
