riding in bus with storms.

On my way North I kept trying to remember the lyrics for a certain The Jerks song, and knew that I was riding my way into the storm. Looking outside, it felt warm inside the bus and I was wearing my jacket. This is when rain suddenly forgets to be gentle and becomes something else entirely. I never went down the bus during the stopovers. I wanted to be comfortable, I guess and wanted to sleep and hug the real Rain instead and it was a few hours and a short dream away.

The storm wouldnt let me have that dream, much less the sleep I wanted and instead made me brood like the weather. So, I caught up with myself and had a few words with a raving mad version of Solitude. Watching the hundred ravines as the bus wound itself up Baguio didnt help either. In between those visions of death by crumpled seat and flying glass shards, I wondered if the only things I knew were the things I didnt want, that the things I did want and want to be were indistinct, covered by haze. Like personalities in a dream, or lyrics to a song I havent heard in a long time, or the movie dialogue that would have been perfect for the moment or just that certain definition for a word that you know in your head but cant explain properly. Frustration.

And the storm outside expressed more angst. Raged, that it was more punk than grunge.

I sat inside the bus and stewed in my mind, unraveling a few years and some neglected dreams, looking at them, like dry analog negatives of some past vividness; faint dim outlines of dreams I once thought were going to change the world. Yes, youth, and the accompanying sense of immortality at times. The description of those dreams are still sandwiched in between words in my old journals.

Then I was at the bus station. A woman slipped coming down from the bus, scattering water and I rushed to help but I guess she could take care of herself. Or I was just too far away. Or I just wasnt fast enough. Then the storm hit me, cold and unwavering. So, I pulled my collar up, and smiled grimly.

If it was just rain, I would have walked to take some edge off the things that were still running in my mind.

I got off the taxi and was met with a kiss and looking up there was Rain at the top of the stairs wearing socks on her hands. "'mig, Papa, 'mig". Smiling.

The haze was gone, it was distinct and clear again. There are things in life I know I want and have.

junk mail.

I was going through my routine deletion of spam, looking for any e-mail that might have had the misfortune of being dumped along with the refuse, when reading along the subject lines:

I caught you naked davidemmanuel.alano
You need to improve your little friend
Big or small, it's your choice
Get a bigger sausage today
Increases your energy and decreases appetite!
Become a super-hung giant
Let yourself look spiny
Awaken her bedroom senses
It's driller time!
She comes like Hoover dam
Legendary tales of your sausage
The Most Powerful Man in Sex

and this one gem:

Beautiful samples of grandeur

I guess, they put in more than a little thought to those spam after all. hehe.

I need a < br > again.

Day time. Another futile attempt to tryst with sleep. The only consolation being today is a Monday = dayoff, but the ominous truth that Tuesday=start of work week, is just a few hours away doesnt really offer any additional consolation. Though by Wednesday I would get to embrace Rain, hopefully even if for just a few moments and that will get me through for at least ten days. Thinking about those two days brings me back to my daily routine of wishes.
I wish it would rain. I wish I could be there with the two. I wish I would have the time to think limited only by sleep and my daughter wanting me to play. I wish we would be in Naga. I wish I'd have that SLR, and all the lenses I could want. I wish we have a house now. I wish I could have all the Magic cards that I want, but I'd settle for the Power 9 and the original duals, then again I could just wish to win in the lottery and the last four wishes will come true. Other wishes being sub rosa, I just have to

As I said daily routine...

But somehow it helps me get along. and besides it also forms part of my impetus to write.

-o0o-

I wonder if I can do portraits again. those written portraits...

favorable weather conditions.

Hoping for rain, I can only look at the few scattered clouds in the horizon. And I am looking out the office window again, like looking out the window of a very tall unmoving bus. There are feelings of despondency mixed in with the frustration this time, nothing that a good straight 8-hour sleep can cure. I mean, really. I guess having an average of barely four hours of sleep will show its effect over time. But I am thinking clearly for the first time in months, and being able to write without really forcing it. When the rains come, I think things will rock.

I havent seen a good movie in days and I also haven't read a book in days, but no withdrawal symptoms there yet. I think being alone in the house for two days now has a sort of a calming effect on the nerves and if I could stop moving around once I get home I think Solitude will come and maybe we can talk a little or just stare at each other's eyes. Like lovers who have reached an impasse in their relationship, just too much thinking about tomorrows, when the time could be better spent touching, holding hands and moving that stray hair somewhere back into place. Or running a light kiss on the nape. Relax and melt. Sleep together.

may nabuyong uran.

Haloy naman kang huring akong nakamating mauranan, pero mas lalong haloy na kang si nagpauran ako; na naglakaw-lakaw asin minati ang lipot kang uran. Suudma, mala baga ta narupit akong kang uran, ta kung nahaloy pa ngani tigtatakig na garo ako sa lipot. Agua de Mayo palan idto kung siring. Maray daa sa lawas, nakakabulong sabi ngani kang mga gurang. Nagiromdoman ko logod si lola, ta sa hiling ko may puede pa siyang idagdag, o background story kumbaga tungkol sa inot na uran kang Mayo.

Kang nagpapa alang ako kang bado sa restroom mi sa opisina, sa may hot air dryer, napungaw ako bigla. Nahihiling ko pa man dikit si uran na padagos lang sa luwas, nalilipudan kaya si bintana ning raot na pintuan kang si cubicle. Pigdalan ko na muna logod si uran sa luwas, ta iba man ang vantage point pag nasa taas ka kang onseng eskalon. Nag aragi sa isip ko si mga lugar na pirmi kong naagihan, ang Ateneo de Naga kang bako pang university, si mga harong na nagkairistaran mi, mga inuman, sagkod kung sain sain pa sa inerokan kong lugar. Sa pagdungaw ko sa bintana, sabi ko iyo talaga harayoon na kaming maray kang mga bistado ko, mga kasupsupan ngaragngag, saka mga padaba kong hali man sa Naga. Harayoon bako lang sa lugar, o isip sagkod pati pag agi kang oras. Iyo, kapungawaan lang ni sagkod dikit naman na pagmawot na makabalik giraray.

Nagbalik na lang ako sa pagpaalang ta piglilipot na ako.

at dahil kailangan ko to.

Ninais ko na namang iwan ang double deck ko na minsan ko lang matulugan, tanging mga bag at kumot ko lang ang palaging nakahiga. Iiwan ko lang naman ng pansamantala, siguro mga ilang araw at ilang gabi rin. Bago ako pumunta ng trabaho kanina dumaan ako ng double deck ulit at medyo inayos naman at tinignan si Angel Locsin na para bang mangungulila ako sa mukha o katawan niya, si Angel na 5 feet by 3 feet na poster sa dingding na pinacking tape lamang upang dumikit. Regalo ito ng isang roommate ko isa pa naming roommate, pero parang destiny na makakatabi ko talaga. Hindi ako nag bye bye kay Angel, ini off ko lang yung ilaw. Sa salas, nag bye bye ako sa isa ko pang kasama sa bahay, na nandun lang sa sofa at dinaramdam ang sirang tiyan na daw, sa tingin ko may hinihintay lamang siya.

Ilang araw din namang walang Internet, o computer, pero sa tingin ko di ako makakatakas sa tadhana, dahil kahit saan may computer shop. Kanina habang papasakay ako ng bus, hindi mabaho at malamig ang simoy ng hangin sa EDSA. Weird, kasi kung hindi mainit, may ibang amoy naman ang hangin sa EDSA. At di masyadong trapik, walang pila sa bus papasok ng The Fort kanina. Swerte.

Sasakay na naman ako ng bus mamaya at makakalimutan ko na muna lahat; double deck, EDSA, trabaho, turnaround time at ang poster ni Angel, lahat...lahat na may taktak Manila. Pansamantalang mas maraming puno ang makikita ko kesa sa mga building. Bukas ng gabi makakatulog ako na hindi kailangan ng electric fan, at kung maswerte wala akong maririnig na trapik, sasakyan, busina o trak, siwit ng mapresko at malamig na hangin lang. Di ko muna makikita ang pink saka blue ng MMDA, relax muna ang nearsighted ko na mga mata sa dami ng green dito. Puno at dahon.

At pag nakita ko na naman yung dalawa, at malamang habang tumitili yung maliit, masasabi ko na naman na talagang kailangan ko to.

reunions.

The gray outlines of the city are becoming more defined as morning slowly breaks and the dreams of the sleeping are slowly retreating like the shadows, reality breaking in slowly, intruding without reluctance. Inevitable and slow. My stomach is sour and burning, reminding me to take care of it, and my mind comes back to what I have been thinking about, that I will be going home to be welcomed by the silence of the apartment, I surmise only Christian is sleeping and we will not be seeing each other awake for some days again. Che might have left work, or perhaps still sleeping. I will be the only one trying to sleep in the other room. Don and Budoy having left for Naga both. It will not only be the heat bothering me this time, something else clawing in my mind like a trapped feline. Don, besides wanting to recharge his emotional batteries (his words to that effect) has to go see about Budoy, discharging his emotional batteries in an impromptu family reunion. Budoy's father passed away just yesterday, reality breaking in suddenly. Inevitable and harsh. And this is the silence I will be sleeping in. This would be the silence I would be going home to before I even try to sleep. It will be a few weeks before the apartment have a reunion of sorts again, before then it will mostly be a few weeks of queer, sometimes uncomfortable silence.

Perhaps I should go home also and recharge my emotional batteries. I am counting four days.