November 30 2007 9:48 am
I wrote as my eyes were closed, awake:
Dark Times has hours, from midnight to five o’clock in the morning. I feel my heart break once more--- I feel myself become colder in this cold. I stop myself from shaking, my hands from shaking, from trembling. I stop myself from breaking. I had felt it the moment I woke up, those day hours and night hours before midnight, this anxiety.
I felt that shift.
“Dark times,” I said.
You are all preying on each other, I said, that’s why parasitism and predation seems to be the same thing. The vibes from that and this is literally making me physically ill; vomit.
“Bad vibes,” I said.
I felt that shift.
“Dark times,” I said.
You are all preying on each other, I said, that’s why parasitism and predation seems to be the same thing. The vibes from that and this is literally making me physically ill; vomit.
“Bad vibes,” I said.
I wrote as my eyes were closed, a wake:
You call me ‘love mine’? she laughed. You have the malady of death, she laughed harder, And you are killing me. Quietly, she said, Go.
She felt that shift: a road calls.
She said, “I felt that you and I took a road that called us, same road, and this is where it leads us--- two roads: you will choose yours and I will choose mine. And I’ve been feeling it, the whole day, this sad creeping feeling that you and I might not take the same road this time.”
He sighed again.
She laughed, “Yes, a thing of sighs. You know why you sighed? Because you already know that you chose yours and it is not the same as mine. The tricky thing about choosing a road to see where it leads is that there is no going back.”
She laughed again, “You sigh; I laugh.”
Ah, the Romas are wise. And I am no one’s “mandis”. In this road, I will be no one’s “monisha”. How come I feel the name “Merripen” call me?
He said, “No, not that reason. I sighed because at this moment, I just want to hug you and tell you that I will journey with you on the same road, love mine.”
She stopped laughing, “Now that… that is a beautiful thing to say…perfect…and it makes me cry.”
He said, “Beautiful because it’s for you.”
She said, “Beautiful because it is painful for me.”
And she wished she would just break, just break into shards once more and never think again, never feel again.
“No. Beautiful. Just beautiful,” he said.
I am beautiful in grief…Beautiful, just beautiful.
She felt that shift: a road calls.
She said, “I felt that you and I took a road that called us, same road, and this is where it leads us--- two roads: you will choose yours and I will choose mine. And I’ve been feeling it, the whole day, this sad creeping feeling that you and I might not take the same road this time.”
He sighed again.
She laughed, “Yes, a thing of sighs. You know why you sighed? Because you already know that you chose yours and it is not the same as mine. The tricky thing about choosing a road to see where it leads is that there is no going back.”
She laughed again, “You sigh; I laugh.”
Ah, the Romas are wise. And I am no one’s “mandis”. In this road, I will be no one’s “monisha”. How come I feel the name “Merripen” call me?
He said, “No, not that reason. I sighed because at this moment, I just want to hug you and tell you that I will journey with you on the same road, love mine.”
She stopped laughing, “Now that… that is a beautiful thing to say…perfect…and it makes me cry.”
He said, “Beautiful because it’s for you.”
She said, “Beautiful because it is painful for me.”
And she wished she would just break, just break into shards once more and never think again, never feel again.
“No. Beautiful. Just beautiful,” he said.
I am beautiful in grief…Beautiful, just beautiful.
I had called out hours before midnight, awake:
“Beh?”
“Yeah?” you said, came into my room and found me kneeling on the middle of the bed.
I was shaking my head, “I don’t feel good,” I said.
“Bad vibes,” you said.
“Dark times,” I said.
“You’re exhausted,” you said.
“It’s always like that--- to transform negative energy.”
You nodded, “And make it creative.”
“Did it sound angry?”
You almost shrugged, “Pissed.”
I laughed, “I wanted it to sound like snap. Each word, each sentence, each paragraph, the whole thing: a snap.”
Then you snapped your fingers, listened to the sound resonate, and nodded.
“Was the snap valid?” I asked.
“Yep,” you said, “And funny.”
I laughed then said, “Bad vibes.”
“Yeah, outside.”
“And it’s getting to me. Jesus, I feel so open. I don’t feel good. I need to let it out,” I said.
You came onto my bed and you hugged me.
I found myself crying.
“Breathe, beh, breathe, let it out,” you said as you rocked me.
“I want to smoke,” I sniffed.
As we smoked and as I would blow my nose now and then, “This is why I stopped myself from writing before. It makes me crazy, tapping into that, to put to words what can’t be put to words, to make it beautiful, and this.”
Oso said that it’s eating me.
“And I don’t feel good about Oso’s trip. Bad vibes.”
“It’s a new toy for him, these new people,” you shrugged.
“But are they good people? (Tsk.) I don’t want these people messing up his growth, and it’s messing up something in his vibe already. (Tsk.) And when he comes back? God knows what taint is in him.”
You said, “This is what I do when you’re not with me: I draw a circle around you in my mind. It’s like a prayer to keep you safe. I do that too when we’re traveling, around the car or whatever. That’s why I like Quentin in “Chaos”.”
I brightened, “Really? Wow, beh, you are a wizard!” Then I said, “I’m hungry. Do we have time to eat before the curfew?”
You nodded, “We have time.”
“Yeah?” you said, came into my room and found me kneeling on the middle of the bed.
I was shaking my head, “I don’t feel good,” I said.
“Bad vibes,” you said.
“Dark times,” I said.
“You’re exhausted,” you said.
“It’s always like that--- to transform negative energy.”
You nodded, “And make it creative.”
“Did it sound angry?”
You almost shrugged, “Pissed.”
I laughed, “I wanted it to sound like snap. Each word, each sentence, each paragraph, the whole thing: a snap.”
Then you snapped your fingers, listened to the sound resonate, and nodded.
“Was the snap valid?” I asked.
“Yep,” you said, “And funny.”
I laughed then said, “Bad vibes.”
“Yeah, outside.”
“And it’s getting to me. Jesus, I feel so open. I don’t feel good. I need to let it out,” I said.
You came onto my bed and you hugged me.
I found myself crying.
“Breathe, beh, breathe, let it out,” you said as you rocked me.
“I want to smoke,” I sniffed.
As we smoked and as I would blow my nose now and then, “This is why I stopped myself from writing before. It makes me crazy, tapping into that, to put to words what can’t be put to words, to make it beautiful, and this.”
Oso said that it’s eating me.
“And I don’t feel good about Oso’s trip. Bad vibes.”
“It’s a new toy for him, these new people,” you shrugged.
“But are they good people? (Tsk.) I don’t want these people messing up his growth, and it’s messing up something in his vibe already. (Tsk.) And when he comes back? God knows what taint is in him.”
You said, “This is what I do when you’re not with me: I draw a circle around you in my mind. It’s like a prayer to keep you safe. I do that too when we’re traveling, around the car or whatever. That’s why I like Quentin in “Chaos”.”
I brightened, “Really? Wow, beh, you are a wizard!” Then I said, “I’m hungry. Do we have time to eat before the curfew?”
You nodded, “We have time.”
Text: 11:30 pm
Oo nga po. Anyway, am home na. Rest na bebe ko. Bad vibes are like having a headache or sakit—itulog na lang. Breathe beh. It will dissipate din po.
Reply: 11:42 pm
I hope it’s gone when we wake up. Relieved your home. Rest baby ko. Keep warm. I love you.
Text: 12:00 Midnight
Happy 33rd Mr. Lovecat! I’m so proud of who you are and who you will be. I love you and thank you for sharing your dreams with me. ü I hope for more real dreams for you.ü
Reply:
I love you beh. Like the seas that sweep the sand, my love whispers our names---
My eyes were closed and I opened them:
to see books, notebooks, pens, my glasses scattered on my bed. I was waiting for Egg to come inside my room--- the smell of her lotion, perfume and shampoo coming before her--- take what’s scattered on my bed and put them on the floor. I was waiting for her to take two of the stuffed toys at the foot of my bed, place them beside me, and tuck my blanket around me. I was waiting for her to rub my back once, then stroke my hair from my forehead, and kiss my head.
I closed my eyes, waiting for sleep but she was not there.
I opened my eyes:
I closed my eyes, waiting for sleep but she was not there.
I opened my eyes:
Text: 2:03 am
I know we’re not friends anymore. I just wanna pretend that I’m able to open to someone that my cousins are scaring me.
Ah, has she read “Being Friends”? I smiled, proud of her: Of course, nothing escapes that omniscience. I closed my eyes and thought of her and I opened them:
Ah, has she read “Being Friends”? I smiled, proud of her: Of course, nothing escapes that omniscience. I closed my eyes and thought of her and I opened them:
Reply: 5:13 am
Why are they scaring you? [And you and I can still be friends, silly.]
I thought of what my heart was telling me: no anger, no pain, not that love, nothing but this--- a cord exclusively hers and mine and that would never be shared with those with her or with me.
Ah, she and I can begin again.
The Dark Times slowly pass.
I thought of what my heart was telling me: no anger, no pain, not that love, nothing but this--- a cord exclusively hers and mine and that would never be shared with those with her or with me.
Ah, she and I can begin again.
The Dark Times slowly pass.
Oso’s Text: 6:03 am
Paalis na kame papuntang Baguio.
Text to her: 7:10 am
I’ve been awake since I texted you. Y’know, I don’t have to be your friend but I can be someone you can open to about things, tell things to.
Reply to Oso: 7:18 am
Ingat
Text from Adam: 7:32 am
My Mom just described B*a*B*a as panget na haliparot.
I started laughing, sleepless and awake and got out of bed.
I started laughing, sleepless and awake and got out of bed.
Reply:
Hahahahaha. And do you agree with your Mom?
Adam replied:
Very much so. Pero not from experience. Tell **** di ko nakuha email niya.
Reply:
Hahahaha. It’s true that your Mom IS cool ergo knows cool. haha. I’ll ask **** to resend his email ok later, ok? Birthday nun today.ü
Adam Replied:
I’ll greet him, then!
Reply:
Ok. Thankee.ü
Adam texts again:
Jun Cruz Reyes and I are compiling an antho of PoMo Pasaway fiction, and he had an interesting theory kung kelan nagumpisa and PoMo Pasaway dito: nung nagkahiwalayan daw ang Rejectionists at Reaffirmists. Ako naman, nung unang pinalabas ang Iskul Bukul! Ayun.
I replied:
Hahahahaha! Mas pasaway yun theory mo. BUT that’s something to think about…hmm…
Adam replied:
Yeah. Kawalan ng Idealism. Yun naman ang foundation ng PoMo, di ba? Kawalan ng halaga ng Macronarratives?
I replied:
Yes&also the idea of a ‘mega-text’. In my head PoMo is this: geniuses who took apart a toy to make another toy&they can’t put it back together to make anything. So, they say ‘this-is-what-i-say-it-is-coz-I’m-a-genius-&-i-say-so’. Hahahaha.
I send him another message:
I trace it back to ‘Thus Spake Zarathustra’. Pinatay kasi yun Ultimate Sign eh. Ayun, nagkagulo. Lahat naging pasaway. Hahahaha.
Adam replied:
Totoo. Personally, and direksyon ko sa pagsusulat ay Hysterical Realism, o PostIronic Reaffirmist.
Adam texts again:
And argument ko diyan ay take-off yung deconstruction tendencies ng PoMo, pero ang emphasis ay asa reconstruction. Yun ang lecture ko sa Baguio!
I replied:
Hayop sa labels ah. Hahahaha.tangna, think-piece yan&you. That’s why I call you ‘wonderboy’.
Adam replied [I accidentally deleted it] but something like: yeah, but girls call him that for other reasons, but yeah.
Adam replied [I accidentally deleted it] but something like: yeah, but girls call him that for other reasons, but yeah.
I replied:
Hahahaha. You’re a boob-boy kasi eh. Hahahaha. Yun na nga eh, deconstruct to reconstruct but according to what? “um, anything na lang.” So now yun standard of ‘anything’ ang pinagpyepyestahan. Hahahaha.
He replied:
Yung Hysterical Realism ay term ni James Wood, used disparagingly to describe Eggers’ (et al) almost naïve optimism on the urgency and value of life and beauty. Yun PostIronic Raffirmist, take ko yun on the same thing.
I replied:
Pag-iisipan ko talaga labels mo.
Then the conversation was on to writing projects, submissions, sharing good writing vibes, laughing light.
Then the conversation was on to writing projects, submissions, sharing good writing vibes, laughing light.
She finally replies and tells me what scared her:
…I figured that out too. Pero siempre masakit. Saka ang weirdo talaga ung kagabi. Ang alam ko wimps mga pinsan kong lalake. And then I saw them na ganun. Na twilight zone talaga ko.
May nilabas pa si Jaja na stick na humahaba pag ni wave mong parang wand ni Harry Potter. Di ko alam tawag dun.
Si Kevin parang black ghetto goon. Sabay habang nakadungaw sa window nila ni Pope, “Wha the fuck you niggah. I’m gonna bash yo fez. Niggah! Foo!” sabay tanggal ng shirt.
May nilabas pa si Jaja na stick na humahaba pag ni wave mong parang wand ni Harry Potter. Di ko alam tawag dun.
Si Kevin parang black ghetto goon. Sabay habang nakadungaw sa window nila ni Pope, “Wha the fuck you niggah. I’m gonna bash yo fez. Niggah! Foo!” sabay tanggal ng shirt.
Awake, I laughed so hard ---
imagine these words from the mouth of Hannibal Lecter’s Pet Student in all her gothic splendor--- who refuses to be a cliché therefore has a sense of humor and can make me laugh--- and I thought Dark Times pass---
--- into laughter.
--- into laughter.
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