a short story

[reposted and re-edited]
[from here]


December 15, 2008

I sat on a dark aisle waiting for the medical results. The streets hummed with buzzing bees, the color of the nights exploded, and in every moment I regret the sudden passage of the wind. I whispered quietly in still air: "I should have stopped myself."

Fifteenth of December

I stood still on MINISTOP KATIPUNAN waiting for L. I was filled with hope yet fixated with terrible apprehension for I haven't met someone like this for almost three years. I recalled the last time I had an 'eyeball' with a text mate, Jocelyn. It was monumental that time because I did it after I gave the valedictory address. I send a text message to Jocelyn that Blainnard Daemiaz (the anagram of my name) stood in front of the graduating class of 2006 and gave the unfaltering speech about pursuing one's ultimate dream. Surprised, she approached me to shake my hand and congratulated me for being the class valedictorian of 2006. Her faced was bruised with sentimentalism and was flattered with an ardent smile, that of a dove, but simply curved on the left of her cheeks.

I smiled back, and I heard her talked but the sounds deafen my ears. The spotlight illuminated my skin like a lamb, and everything ended there. After that, we never talked. We never heard of each others words. We never sent text messages.

My cell phone went dead for three years. I heard that she's in Singapore studying on a local university, I’m not sure if NUS.

I have lost faith in forming relationships via technological tools such as cell phone and chat rooms. I bade goodbye to my teenage years and welcomed adulthood with a blast.

On my eighteenth birthday, I had a big party of about thirty people frolicking in and out of the Molave shed, drinking wine not beer(for I absolutely believe that wine is most proper in my-coming-of-age party), eating chocolate cake and munching white spaghetti. After that, I busied myself with almost everything related to my whole new world: the University. I went to plays, indie film showings, parades, cross-dressing pageants, company talks, lectures of renowned scientists, economist and writers; joined the welcoming of a Nobel prize laureate; drank a bottle of vodka with my best friend which my dad found out; argued with most of my colleagues about the effects of pornography; glorified philosophy and met a philosopher; made a sarimanok costume; joined three organizations but failed one; organized a corridor display; and failed a major subject. I have set limitations but learned that no such limitations exist. I learned to value failure, independence and the meaning of forming true friendships and bonds.

I believed that I have grown somewhat better, more controlled, and more mature. My sensibility and sense of being responsible for myself and my fellow friends is most evident. Everything seemed to be okay until that day of December.

I grasped my cell phone tight and hoped it would malfunction when L arrived. L walked past the entrance of the shop. I knew it was L, pale, thin and peaceful looking. I plunged into the Katipunan sidewalk. Dirt and a whipped of mechanical smoke dashed my brown skin. L smiled at me, and I introduced myself. L carried a violin and offered it to me and asked if I could carry it. L was a bit nervous; I could see it in the dark set eyes, the whimsical and mysterious circular halo filled with stories unknown to man.

We met and did not stop there. On that cold night before the sun could fleet, L left me the violin and asked for a jacket. I gave L a sweater instead of a jacket for it was the only available one. I seemed to be left with hope, moved by L's offer of keeping the violin. L's taxi reverently strides away from me, and I recalled feeling a deep fainting feeling. But maybe it was just because of the alcohol that we drank earlier.

Tipsy, i went back to Ipil to finished my video. I did not slept after that.

DECEMBER 17, 2008

1:30 PM

I just got back from Antipolo, it was a hazy day and i heard forecast of rains from northwest. The skies were troubling my conscience. i followed a straight path from the junction of Kapinunan avenue and Marcos Highway and walked straight towards the stairs crossing the busy highway, and fled towards the Katipunan jeepney. i felt considerably warm and dislodged, with two heavy plastic in both hands and a jostling messenger bag hanging on my shoulders. I sighed as soon as i sat beside a middle-aged fat woman, and she was murmuring something about the traffic and politics. I did not want to listen. Sounds of truckloads banged through the dusty causeway; switching gears of motorcycles and shrieks of barkers saturated my ears. It was then and there, i knew that it was KATIPUNAN on an ordinary Wednesday. What could happen?

230 L arrived from the Katipunan station with a gray bag. I brought L a bottle of mineral water for substantial consumption. I want L to indulge in the healthiness of the soul, yet there seemed to be sadness around. The tinge of the sky convulsed as gray as the bag, and sultry wind wept in ensemble with the dust and smoke. It is as if that moment created a deepened feeling, of disgust and aberration, a darkened humming noise gauged the stillness between L and me as we sat on a jeepney.

It seemed that i have lost my loneliness sitting with L. It hindered my senses, my clutter brain defiled, and as soon as L spoke with L's hair waxed like a shoe, my loneliness was over.

I broke into an exhortation, a windy disposition, with a smiling face and exuberant spirit, i made L taste my tipsy words coming from mouth. My admiration to this talented entity grew like a stalk, building and branching out, but the closeness of my adamant eyes to L's despised me. I retreat by mentioning cold words like "how are you?" It felt defined that at this moment everything is possible, everything is true, brimming with joyfulness and callousness. It felt that as of this day, when the lanterns lit the darkness, when the white butterfly exposed its wings, the utterly conjugated feeling of longing would be quenched forever. Persistent, we jumped from the jeepney and headed to the dormitory to get L's treasure violin.

Rich, when lanterns fled towards the streets of Diliman, everything is virtually hanged with pleasure, to see how L's eyes were opened. How L greeted them! Fine Arts! Fine Arts! i saw L's eyes mysteriously lit the space that he pursued. Beside L were hungry by-standers, meticulously seeking for pleasure. The construction of Ls perceptions brought me into a temptation: to make most it.

And when the night came we sat, alone in the wilderness. People walked with pace, but they did not mind, for their eyes were blind, blinded with splendid pursuits, fulfilled by the majestic brilliance of the lanterns. Whenever i could, i would look at them from a far. I saw most of them, smiling. Others, they frowned in mystery.

As soon as our eyes were fixed i cannot possibly tell you what happened.

DECEMBER 18, 2008

The expanse of night unfolded. The kiln burned with toasted frivolities of the inmates of Ipil. Darkness succumbed our skins, piece by piece, inch by inch, as if we were bathe with the subtleties of the vexed light from nothingness. I must felt it: warm, intoxicating, and frisky whenever i sway my hands to wary the floating beasts that touches it, the air. The air grew thinner, we sat on a cold bench, after everything had passed, the hours of togetherness, of meeting the eyes, of soldering our brains to one another. It seemed a becoming, a mingling of sun and moon, however my heart doesn't felt right.

Whether the night should be an illuminating halo that wrapped our souls and feet with arduous intent or a despicable perversion of two unlike entities seeking for belonging, the stillness of the surroundings was lamenting, of the street lamp burning by the other side of the avenue, of the damp windowpanes on the house walls, of the seclusion of a butterfly by the cobwebs, of the sheets of soils with fiery ants in dark ebony. It seemed as though the night bestowed us the stillness that we want, the calmness and anonymity, the peacefulness whenever i heard of silence. And we sat there with our eyes fixed, and mine, clearly alluded to L's, i heard the beating of my heart, but on this night, it did not foretold the tales of romanticized love but more pure that.

What is this new found nothingness holding the strings back, back into the reveries on my own damnation? Will this exquisite agony, the space between our seats and faces, be the end of all? If there should be a resolution, the moment when we laid our eyes, wouldn't it be my extinction? Where does this leads?

And when L jumped into the bus by 6:00 AM, i saw L's face, frozen in my own time frame, haunting me, disturbing my very sensible nerves, and i continued to ask irrelevant questions about my adequacy as a companion, a new found friend, an 'admirer'. Whenever i can, i would recall that frames of my life, when the bus left and me, standing in the middle of empty north avenue, on a 6 o'clock, looking at L's face passed from the shadows of my empty thoughts. I couldn't stop it, to cry, to weep whenever i can, to ground my own sensibilities... to question my own fate.

--- BD.

NOTE: Fictional!