Fucker Bet

Friday, July 4, 2008 8:04 am

In my head: …one symphony played in a loop by an orchestra autonomous of a conductor:

Thursday at 4:20 pm, blood is mud in Postcard from Persephone.

In my head, snap: What’s the matter in your blood?

“Count from 1-5…

1: Late until legs

2: Pulling until Pidisilan

3: Seaweed until washi

4: Do until eyes

5: Till until mouth

Now, read aloud.”

1= mud:

2= mud:

3= mud:

4= mud:

5= mud:

In my head: Where’s your blood?

“Again.”

1… 2… 3… 4… 5…

In my head: mud trickling pus.

“I say number and you say the line. I’ll say stop and number to continue.

“1…stop

“3…stop

“2…stop

“4…stop

“5…stop”

In my head, a snap: still mud.

Snap, “2”

Snap, “5”

Snap, “1”

And they all trickle lost.

Focus: The matter in your blood: response-time is too slow = no focus = laziness = neurons dying = indifference = will likely balk or break under pressure = your life going to shit without your noticing it or knowing what to do about it = country goes to deeper shit = the world ends in 2012 in fire and ice and shit.

Sigh, “Sit down. It’s okay. Go back to your seats please.”

In my head: This will have to take more…Sara’s short story: that re-writing of the

Persephone myth and what taking that pomegranate seed really meant and her “;” problem… Make time to conduct 15-minute writing exercises with her, her student, Kev and Sir Pao.

Thursday at 6 pm, I laugh thinking of Nick Joaquin’s “6 p.m.” and then I growl at the Angelus.

I say to Joey, “I want to scream.”

Joey says, “Hold on, almost there.”

In my head: Magpie says, “…frustrated. That’s why she…”I have the pit bull’s virtue.

Thursday at 6:10 pm, I tak-tak-tak to the car, “Yosi, pare? Where’s my hip-hop?”

In my head: I can’t play death metal otherwise I’ll do a shooting-spree. Damn I’ve been thinking of rifles again: …stance, inhale and the forward sight goes up, exhale as sight lowers to three sights locking the target, hold breath, steady, slack, s…l…o…w…l…y, follow through, release breath, lower down the Badass, reload, stance…Primy Joy Cane all made-up shooting M-16s in Mindanao. I hope that dear girl has stopped wearing heavy make-up and covering that beautiful face.

I chuckle and play hip-hop to 48. Joey asks, “What happened?”

I laugh, “Frustration has become a mantra…OhmygodIwannascreambeh.”

In my head: I’m Kash Avena pretending to be a bear and pitching toilet paper.

Joey says, “It’s okay…It’s okay…You want to stop teaching now? It’s okay, you know.”

I shake my head, smiling, “You’re sweet.”

Joey says, “Let’s go get something light to eat and watch a movie, yes?”

I say, “Yes. Detox.”

I smoke one, two, three--- thinking of Dad, TJ, Scoobs, Champoy, Poy, Eve and…

Joey says, “The consonants on crack text is still in your head?”

I laugh, “Yeah. Divorce is a bitch.”

Thursday at 2:00 pm Eve says, “Hey, bitch. Got work today? I want to get drunk as early as I can. Got meetings ‘til 4 pm…”

I reply, “No can do. Work and a date with Joey after.”

In my head, a laugh: Yeah, work is a lot of shit going down outside work to work out.

Thursday at 11:00 am I ask, “What’s this all about? You haven’t done anything to offend me. Ano ka ba. Are the threats directly to you or to…Maybe it’s not involving you. Maybe it’s him.”

“It’s just a bummer. Fucking death threats... It’s been hard…”

I sigh, “Damn it… Call you after work. I’m swamped today. Okay?”

In my head: Memo: Who and what the heck…

Thursday at 4:29 am A message, “There anything wrong I said or did? Please forgive me if so…been receiving death threats…”

Wednesday at 9:16 pm A message, “He accepted it just like that. Ni hindi man lang cya nag-object. I was right. He was just waiting 4 it 2 come from me…”

In my head: That CHICKEN SHIT! tangnang gentleman-kuno-hugas-kamay-tactic ng mga lalaki nga naman oh!

I reply, “Hay, bata pa nga. ang babaw. gagong kupal duwag tactics. walang bayag. punyeta good riddance. papugutan ko siya ng ulo eh. o kung masyadong violent for you, sunugin ko na lang. sabi ka lang ng go. di ka niya deserve.”

In my head: Yeah, that’s Sir Pao’s influence right there.

In my head, Nanay: “No violence, please.”

In my head: The world should really be fucking grateful to my mothers.

Wednesday at 9:16 pm, my reply to a reply:

Ok lah. Understood. (Smiley)

In my head: Yeah, I miss you, too.

At 9:15 pm, a reply to my message:

Di miss call yun. I tried to call him. Naputol line

In my head: Hayayay.

At 9:14 pm, I send a message:

And next time please don’t make a missed call. Text Joey if you want to ask him something OR ask him to call you. The missed-call-thing is like calling a dog. He’s not. It offends my sensibilities. Understand? Thank you. (Smiley)

In my head: Tsk-Tsk

At 9: 04 pm Joey says to me while talking on the phone, “Nagtatanong kung sino ba raw yun nagtattoo sa ‘yo. Magpapatattoo raw siya…”

I laugh, “Ano raw?! Magpapatattoo siya?! Naku, pag-isipan niya yan. Mag-isip-isip muna siya. Naku.”

In my head: “Man-To-Man-Talk”= “Mom-Me” is the enemy because can spot bull: you‘re still a knee-jerk-junky, kiddo.

At 9:00 pm In my head: who the hell…ah.

I say to Joey as I hand him his ringing phone, “May tumatawag sa ‘ yo” and the phone stops ringing.

Wednesday 1:39 pm Selena sends a message, “Hope teaching isn’t so draining on you but more rewarding :)”

In my head: Frustration.

Wednesday at 12:36 pm Poy asks, “Did you enjoy our music last night? Honest truth pls.”

In my head: Memo: I love your new technique: harmonica on guitar. As for Tao, in addition to looking like Garce Nono, tangnang boses yan oh. Hayop. Can’t trace yet whose voice it is: I think hers is not a synthesis of female solos; she’s water and mercury slipping in between them all. Ah, but mix the set a little. Something quirky and perky in between otherwise it becomes static: same chords, same note, same tone.

Wednesday at a smiling “Ma’am Mia, last two minutes na, okay?”

I laugh to my favorite waiter(s), “Okay, ubusin ko lang ‘to. Salamat Dong.”

Champoy laughs to the waiter(s), “Last two minutes? Ano yan? Basketball?”

We all laugh.

Tuesday at happy-hours

Scoobs: Pero kawawa yun inupakan mo man. Pogi eh.

I shake my head, smiling.

Champoy: Which one was this?

Scoobs: Lasing na ko nun eh. Eto naman dumerecho sa... Natatawa ko nun eh. He-he-he…Ayun, may pinanonood kaming may inuupakan tapos biglang Putang ina may inuupakan! Eh di takbo kami para hablutin ito. Shit man, your temper!

I smile, shaking my head, in my head: Shit man, 1999 is fractured in your head.

I: Dude, drunk is my safest driving.

Scoobs: Putang ina! Hindi kaya!

I: Kelan naman di ako safe?!

Scoobs: Yun putang inang galing tayong resort sa Antipolo. Sabi mo magbabayad lang tayo sa Meralco tapos dun na inabot natin. Tangna di mo nakikita yun hawak ko sa handle! Sa may junction muntik ka nang bumangga.

In my head: let’s do a memory check on you.

I: Bumangga ba?

Scoobs: Hindi.

I: Sabi ko nga. What did we drink?

Scoobs: Tequila.

I: Which car?

Scoobs: Altis.

I: Where did we go after?

Scoobs: Kay Ahmedalla kasi di mo na kayang magdrive!

I: Oh? Nakarating ka sa bahay mong buhay di ba?

Scoobs: Oo nga.

I laugh, nodding my head, in my head: Wow, man, 2003 is still solid in your head.

Scoobs: Friends na kayo uli ni Ayn?!

I: Always naman eh. Di niyo kasi naiintindihan takbo ng dynamics naming dalawa since 1999 eh. Essential dyan is walang gigitna kasi yun gumitna o sumaway mayayari.

Scoobs: Mga buwang kasi kayo.

I: Di naman yan dinedeny eh.

Scoobs: Tangna pag nagkaanak ka na talagang babalik ka sa pagdadasal at mapapasabi ka ng Diyos ko, Diyos ko…

I: Sabi nga rin ni Yan-Yan.

Champoy: Oh? Pucha maniniwala ako diyan pag nagkaanak na si Mi!

I: Ganun! Nga naman oh! Si Pooh and Lala magpapakasal lang raw pag magpakasal na ko. Tapos ikaw gusto rin magpaksal at magkaanak?!

Champoy: Anak okay. Dugo ko yan eh. Eh yun asawa?

I: Sabi ko nga eh.

Then Scoobs and Champoy exchange perceptions on men-are-from-this-planet and women-are-from-that-planet.

While Kev and Sir Pao are in outer space whispering evil-somethings to each other’s ears.

Scoobs: Since when do you use record notebooks?

I: Mga 2 years na. Turo.

(Kev nods)

Scoobs: Bakit di tickler?

I: Yun steno pad? Tangna nung una oo. Pero yun steno rin kasi para sa brainstorming yun ng R&D sa opisina and then some notes dati sa MA. Tapos may bad memories eh.

Scoobs: What?

I: Eh nung high school ginagamit namin yan for shorthand sa accounting. Kaloka! Tapos putragis na T-accounts, journal, balance sheet yun. Tangna nasisigawan pa ko ni Dad kasi iba naman yun formula niya sa balance sheet eh di ko makuha.

In my head: What if I write something using shorthand lingo?

I: I’m sorry, it’s just like this. We can talk more next time.

Kev: It’s okay, Teach.

I: Take care muna of Sir Pao while I deal with this. This is why you have to specify alone or with company with me. You should see the parties before.

In my head: Yeah, let me throw a party and everyone’s invited.

In my head: That’s throwing a Molotov cocktail to straws doused on gasoline.

In my head: That’s so evil.

Champoy: Hey Scoobs! Musta!

Scoobs: Eto, dead.

Champoy: That’s not the Scoobs I know.

I: See? Champoy, you remember Kev?

Champoy: Yeah…Is he usually so tahimik?

I look at quiet Kev: Nah, ang daldal kaya niyan.

Champoy and I talk.

I: Champoy, remember who you want to be.

Scoobs: You’re too thin. What the fuck is it?

I: Drugs! Biro lang po! It’s nothing.

Scoobs: Pull your hair back from your face.

I: You like my hair?

Scoobs: Nothing? Too fucking thin!

I: Oo na, kumakain naman eh!

Scoobs: Hey man.

I: Yo (and introduce Kev).

Scoobs: How are your students? Dumb?

In my head: Does Kev look dumb? I don’t think so.

I: Tangnang yabang talaga ng mga taga-UP eh. Nope. Far from it. Misperception. By the way there are a lot of UP students who are idiots you know, would even claim guns from Andromeda are magical objects and can’t even spell nowadays. And don’t even get me started on the Arneans.

In my head: Pag may humirit pa talaga ng superiority ek-ek uupakan ko.

Scoobs (to Kev): Pasensya na, man, sandali lang, ganito talaga kami pag nagkikita. Seryoso pag nag-uusap.

Scoobs and I talk.

I: Noy, remember who you are.

Tuesday at almost 8 pm, I listen to Tao(Aves)Poy(Diokno) and take down notes.

Tuesday at almost 7 pm, Champoy asks, “Hey Mi, you free tonight?”

I laugh, “Just come to mag:net in katipunan.”

Champoy replies, “Okay! See ya!”

In my head: So, who else wants to party dodo?

Tuesday at past 6 pm I say, “…So the vocalist sucked. It’s the Concept of 3 & 10. You know that, right?”

Kev says, “Yeah, I remember reading something you wrote about that. I wonder how you’d look at 40, Teach.”

I say, “Probably then I’d look like 29 or 30. Vanity yan tsong.”

Kev laughs.

I say, “Alam mo naman na malakas akong mag-asar ‘di ba?”

Kev says, “Ay oo.”

I say, “So, musta yun nursing student mo? How old is she?”

Kev says, “17 or 18…”

I laugh, “Nagpapalaki ka rin? Nagpapaaral? Nursing student pa talaga eh…”

Kev laughs.

I say, “I asked this student how old he was…”

“And?”

“17. Good God, I said and the student said, Is that so bad? I said, Coming from my age 17 seems like a long time ago.”

Kev laughs and texts Sir Pao, “Punta ka na…Miss you, pare. Tsup!”

I laugh.

Tuesday at unhappy-hour

Memo to all THIS:

1. It’s better to have awful syntax or semantics: at least it’s yours, original, and you can always get better.

2. There’s this wonderful toy called articlecheck.com

3. There’s also this wonderful tactic called diagnostic essay.

4. Then there’s this wonderful disorder called O.C.

5. And I have a boyfriend wired eight-hours-a-day.

Tuesday at past 3 pm I snarl, “Found a…motherfuck…”

Kev says, “Aww, Teach… motherfuck indeed.”

I say, “Whoa, not used to reading you curse.”

Kev says, “Me too.”

I laugh, “By the way, Scoobs will be there tonight, okay? He and I need to talk. Man, seeing something like this just makes me really unhappy.”

Tuesday at past 2 pm Scoobs asks, “Where are you? You’re free now?”

In my head: Uh-oh.

I reply, “Have work ‘til 6 pm. What’s up? If you want let’s meet at Poy’s gig tonight. I’ll be there by 7sh.”

Scoobs answers, “See ya.”

Tuesday at past 1 pm Kev says, “…Sorry. Should have asked first.”

I laugh, “…You’re taking me to this gig tonight. I’m required to go…”

Tuesday 12:16 pm Chinggoy sends a message, “Gud pm my friend. How r u? Hows d midterms ng mga kids mo? Hehe. Nagpaparamdam lng po bka isipin nyo nakalimutan ko na kayo. Hindi naman po sa ganon ha. Family business is keeping me busy…”

Thursday at 6:50 pm I send a message to Chinggoy asking him to call me when he has the time because I’ve been calling and no answer.

In my head:

I: I sent you the msg as soon as I woke up.

O: I didn’t get any.

(Check)

I: Nyak. I thought I sent you the message. Di pala. Sorry.

O: Sabi na nga ba eh! Nakakalimot ka na eh!

In my head:

A: You didn’t know?

I: My omniscience has been faulty lately.

A: You’re slipping.

I: I can’t be in control all the time.

A: Fix it.

I: Check.

I check the call register again to make sure that I did call him.

He immediately calls, “My friend! Katabi ko telepono the whole day! Wala naman calls ah!”

I laugh, “Alangan naman mag-imbento ako na tinatawagan kita di ba?”

He laughs, “Oo nga naman.”

Conclusion: smart-to-globe-vice-versa-calls-suck.

We talk about approaches to his birthday.

Thursday until 8:00 pm Joey asks, “Want a beer?”

I laugh, “Hell no. You know, I think I’ll give them a break.”

In my head: too much mind-fucking = brain-sprain = nasty migraine.

Joey and I talk shop as we ate dinner.

Walking after, I laugh, “I bet that I’d go back to consonants on crack after the movie.”

Joey laughs, “No bets. That’s a sucker bet.”

I laugh, “Fucker bet.”

In my head:

2006

Joey said, “You’re being too hard on him.”

I shook my head, in my head:

He has to learn how to deal with pressure. And I can’t have him limited to the visual or binary. Yeah, he’s brilliant but not challenged enough therefore no product and easily gets bored. Does things just out of spite, too. Pile stuff on him and then there’s pressure. And if he cannot sit through spotting every error or variation in syntax and semantics in what he’s been checking without feeling drained or wanting to go to sleep or saying fuck-it or giving in to whatever just to get out of it, then what will happen to him? Who will teach him that? His world? Life?! Life will break him at the rate he’s going! I can’t let him be broken and lose him!

Joey said, “But beh, he’s young. Let him have fun.”

I shook my head, in my head:

He had fun already. I ease up and that obstinate knee-jerk-junky-habit of his won’t be broken.

Joey said, “Really, ease up on him.”

In my head: Good god I’m a nag.

I sighed, “Fine.”

In my head: fucker bet.

Thursday at past 10 pm Joey says through the “Wanted” credits, “Hay, those Russian directors.”

In my head: The presence of the actor from Daywatch/Nightwatch gives that away.

In my head: Wow, frustration’s gone!

I laugh and I hug him, “Thank you! Wow, all better!”

Then I laugh as I smoke in the car, “Beh, that tat? That’s knee-jerk. The same with the gun. And the phones. And those girls. But he still has time to think about it. That’s going to be his mark for his birthday…And really, I’m turning gay for Angelina Jolie.”

In my head:

God help those in his way when he harnesses those impulses.

In my head:

SNAP

In my head:

An orgasmic exercise for line cutting.

In my head:

It’s this goddamn mathematical equation for anti-matter.

In my head:

My, my, going back to your math now?

In my head:

Whoever said that mathematical equations cannot be translated into words?

In my head:

Joey says, “It’s a puzzle box from Hellraiser”

In my head:

Stop fucking “consonants on crack”

In my head:

Done.

In my head:

C’mon Martin, can’t you feel time coming to play with your form?

In my head:

Huy, yun short stories.

In my head:

Form of story for Dean

In my head:

There it is…almost…

In my head:

Heh, check essays muna.

In my head:

…lost it.

In my head:

Why are these dinosaurs blind?

In my head:

Egg’s message,“Its ok maus. Not to wori. U are nt any les brilliant.”

In my head:

Pumba, “Hakuna matata…”

In my head:

Shriek, “Get it all out! All of it! Please!”

In my head:

Sigh, “Can’t do that when you’re fighting treatment.”

In my head:

Can’t keep on hiding what’s in here, you know.

In my head:

Have to because you’re scary fuckers.

In my head:

Scary little fuckers.

In my head:

Was that “Pinky and the Big Brain”?

In my head:

Funny

In my head:

SNAP

In my head:

Fine...To play…

In my head:

…that which is Einstein…

In my head:

…having the same hairdo as Jacques Derrida…

In my head:

(he-he-he)

In my head:

…is Ludwig Van Beethoven therefore define…

In my head:

…a weave of memories that is…

In my head:

(the heart’s courtesy is a sucker but not a fucker bet)

In my head:

FOCUS!

In my head:

Fucker Bet