May iniisip ka?
Oo.
Ano?
Ayaw kong sabihin. Baka magkatotoo.
Dahil makulit ka
Kilala kita. Oo, ikaw 'yun: Nagkasalubong na tayo minsan, sa LRT, sa Gotohan, sa kanto ng Aurora at Katipunan. Nagkatinginan tayo. Hindi mo ako kinausap, pero alam ko, nakilala mo rin ako. Kaya ka narito, di ba? Para sabihing, Oo, oo, ikaw nga 'yun. Naaalala kita.
na, mula noong 24 Enero, 2006, ang nakitambay dito
dear diary ulit
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
1.
Bayaw. Oo, ikaw, mehn, ikaw na bumabasa nito. Nakita ko 'yung pangalan mo, dito sa may amin, may poster. Maraming mga poster, sa poste ng Meralco, sa pader ni Aling Anding, mga flyer, ipinamimigay ng mga batang nangangaroling.
Nandu'n ang pangalan mo, may litrato pa. May hawak kang bote ng beer.
Ang sabi, magpapainom ka raw.
Nga pala, kumusta naman ang pasko mo?
2.
Sige na nga:
3.
Okey naman dito. Nakakatuwa pa rin naman ang mga bata-- mga pamangkin ko. Bigayan ng regalo, kina ermats, erpats, sa ate ko, ayun.
Nang dumaan nga ako grocery para bumili ng tupperware na paglalagyan ng ipamimigay na putahe sa kapitbahay, napansin kong may extra pang kaunti sa wallet. Alak o ice cream? Alak o ice cream? Sabi ko sa sarili ko, minsan lang naman, e. Ngayon lang sa buong taon. Ice cream.
4.
Siguro langgam ako sa isang nakaraang buhay. Sa isang tasa ng kape: limang sachet ng asukal. Tapos muntik ko nang maubos 'yung isang liyanera ng leche flan, kung di lang ako pinigilan ng ate ko. Ngayon masakit ang kanang bagang ko. Pakdatsiyet, naubos na ang breds ko. Mahal pa namang magpadentista.
5.
O, isa pa, galing sa isa sa mga paborito kong makata:
Permanence Lawrence Raab
I can't remember how old I was, but I used to stand in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to imagine what it would be like to be dead. I thought I'd have some sense of it if I looked far enough into my own eyes, as if my gaze, meeting itself, would make an absence, and exclude me.
It was an experiment, like the time Michael Smith and I set a fire in his basement to prove something about chemistry. It was an idea: who I would or wouldn't be at the end of everything, what kind of permanence I could imagine.
In seventh grade, Michael and I were just horsing around when I pushed him up against that window and we both fell through— astonished, then afraid. Years later
his father's heart attack could have hit at any time, but the day it did they'd quarreled, and before Michael walked out to keep his fury alive, or feel sorry for himself, he turned and yelled, I wish you were dead!
We weren't in touch. They'd moved away. And I've forgotten who told me the story, how ironic it was meant to sound, or how terrible.
We could have burned down the house. We could have been killed going through that window. But each of us deserves, in a reasonable life, at least a dozen times when death doesn't take us. At the last minute
the driver of the car coming toward us fights off sleep and stays in his lane. He makes it home, we make it home. Most days are like this. You yell at your father and later you say you didn't mean it. And he says, I know.
You look into your own eyes in a mirror and that's all you can see. Until you notice the window behind you, sunlight on the leaves of the oak, and then the sky, and then the clouds passing through it.
6.
Sablay ba para sa okasyon? 'Yang tula ni Raab, sablay ba? Okey lang yan. Ganda, e.
7.
Tangina, p're, naiyak ako sa Cars. Wasaaak. Mas malala pa sa iyak ko sa Magnifico. Wasaaak talaga.
8.
Ubos na ang budget. Ngayon, mag-aabang na naman ako ng a-kinse para sa suweldo. Kaya kung naka-boundary ka sa pamamamasko, huy, painom ka namehn.
kael, maraming salamat sa pag-post ng tula ni raab. meron din ako niyan dito, pero masarap yung feeling na mabasa siya ulit :)
-twinkle