Wednesday, October 24, 2007

looking through a bus window

it took me years to let things saturate its meaning until i could write them.. as a lame yet a sensible excuse one say: "live life then write about it later"

recently i've been through aimless soul searching. going from one place to another. keeping my feet on the go--all the time. i'm quite amused how many bus and ship tickets i got stuck on my pocket. while on my earphones (volta,medulla, and vespertine) series of images rushing through my window: landscapes, old houses, a mother doing her laundry by the river with her child, glaring sun by the beach, road signs...

these images keep on rushing through my window as they blur away from the speeding bus. as if a wisp of smoke fade out as strong wind struck it existence. my eyes, void of recognition, looking yet my mind were off somewhere, a complete blank stare. random thoughts keep on swimming. lurking thoughts from the past, lurking within one of the vast chamber in my mind.


February 29, 2004. on the last leap year. thinking it will be another 4 years to have 29th on the month of February, i went to Mactan Old bridge. it was a moonless night. i brought with me a bank book that contains all the transactions that my Father (working overseas months ago by then) transmit each time he send money from working abroad. it caused alot of house fights between my Mama and Papa, since my father always question where goes all the money that he send every month. If Mama could speak back and not just cried, she could explain that most of his earnings went to the newly constructed house that we had had, to my older brother's tuition fees and vanities, to our meager meal from day to day, and all the usual family expenses. Mama don't smoke, drink nor gamble. Most specially, she don't have any younger boyfriend. so there is no wasted centavo on that red bank book.

walking towards the middle of the bridge, i clutch it with me, then i torn it into pieces and scatter them from the top of the bridge into the sea. i could still remember how the pieces flutter into the air then fall down into the pitch black sea. they look like white butterflies flapping gently, only to be washed by murky waters. i smile as i see the bank book vanish on the night of that leap year..


i'm bound towards manila for a "christian fellowship" and i need a plane ticket. i don't know if im still spiritually crazy by that time---but i was convinced, and did attend the gathering of Christian delegates around the world in ULTRA. i was in my late teens by then: ambitious, a great optimist and a constant believer that the whole world will conspire for the fulfillment of my purpose. i look for sponsors for my trip---excited, and i am confident that my acquaintance will support me since this is "the will of god". rummaging through the pages of my "prospective" list of sponsors, i did my first knock to my close friend's father (who happen to be the manager of our local airport) and elated that he provided a plane ticket the very next day, not just one way but a round trip ticket. and that was my very first plane ticket and my first time to be on top of the cloud. that was really cool.

and now, im no longer among the throngs of followers who keeps on attending sunday service. i'm still a believer and have my own way to give praise and worship God. so please don't dare ask me to "repent" if i don't live according to the scriptures. i've been riding airplane across the nation but planning and hoping the next landing would be in a foreign land. my ambitions are no longer of sheer destiny but of hard work and opportunity. one thing that never changed though is that i still keep on dreaming.


just done with my umpteenth lap in the pool, i went directly to the shower room after an hour of swimming. its 7pm, two hours before the pool closes. noticing my figure on the big mirror tells me that im in good shape. i remember a line in oscar wilde's "the picture of Dorian Gray" that the peak of human beauty is in his/her 20. hmn, i'm exactly in that age by that time. youthful glow running through my veins. as i came out from the shower room, i saw this guy keep on looking at me. finding myself wearing only a swimming trunk, i hurriedly took my clothes and change. i don't know why, but our paths keep on crossing each other that night. until in some weird way, he say "hi" to me. i asked him why he keeps on sitting on the bleacher and did not swim, for some weird reason, he told me that he wait for his girl friend whose working in the pool as a swimming instructor. "ah ok.." i said in an indifferent tone. one moment leads to another. we change numbers and we meet again. that time he took me to a park on top of the mountain: mountain view. we sort of date. getting to know you moment. as we climb uphill, we went through a narrow pathway that leads to the cliff of the mountain wherein cottages are set far away from each other. it's totally dim, the only light source that the place have came from the canopy of stars above and the glittering city lights below us. it was sinfully romantic. i feel like sixteen again.

running out of stories to tell, we kept silent. we gaze at the city from afar, muted from chaotic sounds, yet palpitating with cosmic life. wordless emotion swirl within me so somehow i express it through massage. stroke by stroke it communicate with unspoken desire and fear. i like him but he is "sort of" committed to his "girlfriend". an iota of anticipation yet submerged in the sea of confusion. he is sort of "undecided" type of person. physically, he's quite tall, around half foot taller than me. im rubbing his back as he kept on looking at the cityscape. all of the sudden he grasp my hand and pull me into a hungry kiss. we make love by the cliff. my world literally went upside down as he lay me down on the picnic table, entered me lightly to the core, and had a synchronized trance.

that was two years ago, and he remain irretrievable on my deleted files in my phonebook

awaken from daydreaming, all these sepia colored memories turn off in a sudden halt. snap! the bus driver step on the break pedal and the door slide open. i clutch on my porter shoulder bag and make my way towards the harbor, where a ship anchored waiting for us to leave Hagnaya and take us to northern island, my hometown: Bantayan.

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