Salamat dun sa apat na taong nagbabasa pa nito. Sorry at ngayon ko lang nakita ang mga comments ninyo dahil medyo tinotopak yung pagnotify sa akin na may nagcomment na.

Pero ayon, nagreply ako sa inyo, pakisagot nalang yung tanong ko.

Salamat :)

Hi.

May mga nagbabasa pa ba nito? Sana meron pa, ayaw ko talaga yung feeling na nagsusulat ako ng blog, tapos wala namang nakakakita.

Uh, so nasa process ako ng pagsubok bumalik sa pagsusulat. May kailangan kasi akong isulat, pero hindi ko siya masimulan dahil natatanga ako recently. Hindi naman ito uncommon, ganito lang talaga pag matagal akong natitigil sa ginagawa ko.

Medyo importante sa akin yung gusto kong isulat, pero nahihirapan talaga ako.

Nagsubok akong magsulat ulit kagabi, at by some miracle, nakatapos ako ng storya. Yung storyang iyon ang ibabahagi ko sa inyo (o iyo, hopefully may kahit isa pang natitira diyan, haha).

Uh, yeah.

Wala, ayaw ko nang magsalita tungkol dito sa ginawa ko. Haha.

-o-

Untitled Story #1

Jack awoke to the soft tone of his instant messenger. He moved his mouse to get rid of his animated screen saver and squinted as his eyes tried to adjust to the bright light from the monitor. He looked out his window and saw faint hints of sunrise. It was 4:53 in the morning. He fought hard to read the name as messages streamed on in a very familiar font and color: Arial 10, bold, purple.

It was her, of course. It was always her. He didn’t need to check the name. He just wanted to see it.

Jack smiled as he typed back his replies. He always thought he looked like an idiot when he chatted with her because there was always a wide smile on his face. It didn’t even matter what time she came, Jack was always prepared, Jack was always waiting, and Jack was always ready to smile.

They had a little back and forth going. She was telling him about her night out with her friends, how irritating it was to get hit on by tons of guys, how annoying it was to get her ass grinded on to by some random perverts in the club, and how much she hated clubs.

Jack contemplated telling her that if she hated clubs so much, she should stop going. But he knew she wouldn’t expect that reply from her. If he told her that, she’d stop replying, and their conversation will end. Jack knew how much she liked his responses. Jack knew he could only reply that way, or else it was over.

Jack told her how his day went. He told her how he forgot to take the new dog out for a walk to poop. He told her how the dog found his way to the living room and shat on the six month old suede sofa. He told her how his dad almost beat him inches to death when he came home from having sex with his secretary at their usual motel.

He waited patiently for her reply. Seconds passed. Jack looked at his watch; it was 5:23am. He tapped his fingers on the glass desk. A minute passed. Jack’s right leg started to shake. He tried his best to stop it. Five minutes passed. Jack was pulling on his hair and stopped only when he got a handful of greasy locks. Ten minutes passed. He began scratching his arm and legs. Thirty minutes passed. There was blood all over the computer table and the monitor, keyboard and mouse were covered in it. Jack was still sitting up straight in front of the computer. His round bloodshot eyes were glued on the screen. He was still smiling.

She still hasn’t replied and he can’t figure out why. He said all the right things. He didn’t miss the first message. He didn’t fail to give a proper response. He did everything right, she was supposed to reply. She was supposed to! It was the rule!

Then he realized his mistake. He scrolled up, read his mistake in despair and started typing again. His fingers were sore, and some fingernails are about to fall off because of all the scratches he did, but he kept them moving as fast as he could. His keyboard gave a weak slushy sound every time he hit a key because it was flooded by his own dark blood. His smile started to hurt as he frantically typed in the words.

He went through his story again, about the dog shitting on the expensive couch and his dad beating him to death, but stopped there. He didn’t know at the time that his dad was fucking the secretary. It was a mistake. He can’t believe how he made that stupid mistake.

He waited a few seconds for her reply, none came. He typed it again and again and again.
He kept on repeating the same words, the same story every night. Every time he did, his smile got bigger and he bit down harder. He typed and typed and typed the story over and over again, until his teeth cracked. Still, no reply came.

Tears rolled down his distorted face as he felt frantic desperation and overwhelming helplessness rush all over his body. He can’t see the screen because his blood completely covered the monitor. He couldn’t feel his fingers hit the keys. His teeth were mostly shattered. The movement of his fingers slowed, but never stopped typing.

He wanted to get it right, this time.

As Jack was about to pass out from exhaustion and blood loss, he tried to clear the monitor to see if she replied. Jack saw that she was typing a message. He tried to sit up to see what she was about to say. His tried to open his eyes wide. He tried to flash his smile. But he failed at all of it.

Jack didn’t have to find out what she was about to say, because there was nothing after that. He knew this, but still, he wanted to check for himself and make sure of it for the thousandth time. He wanted to see if it made a difference, even a bit this one last time.

It didn’t.

Paradiso

I knew this was eventually going to happen. I envisioned this day over and over in my head. I already thought of how I was going to feel when I get my chance at it. I always thought it would hurt, but right now, I realized that I had no idea.

I stood beside her as the dark three o’clock skies poured a sea of rain. There were people behind me, holding on to their umbrellas, tying not to get their hair wet. I stood alone in front, feeing every drop hit me. This was exactly how I fantasized it.

I was supposed to say something.

“I’m sorry.”

The rain was good for hiding my tears, but the cold water wasn’t enough to take the fall for my trembling voice.

“I never thought this day would come,” I lied to the people behind me. “I’m not naïve, I just didn’t want to accept it. I’m no fool, but I wish I was. Maybe, that would help me not feel this much pain.”

Some of the people behind me sobbed; a few of them broke down in tears. I can’t see any of them. I was doing it wrong. I walked around her, and stood at the other side so I faced my audience.

There was a crowd of faceless people dressed in black. I knew I should recognize them, but I couldn’t. I was supposed to focus on all of them as I spoke, but the situation was proving to be more unmanageable than I originally thought. I didn’t let stage fright claim me, I powered on.

“I remember a time when she and I found a field one sunny day. The grass was thick and green like you’ve never seen it. Butterflies flew aimlessly around and the leaves of the mango tree danced with the cool breeze. I remember her standing at the edge of that field, frozen in time, with a confused look on her face.

‘What’s wrong?’ I asked her.

She didn’t answer. She didn’t say anything for a while, so I asked again.

‘What’s wrong?’

She looked at me, tears welling in her eyes and she whispered: ‘it’s perfect.’

Then she ran. She ran across that green field and laughed and laughed and laughed.

It was perfect.

She was perfect.”

I can see each of them hanging on to my every word. My speech was perfect. It was going according to plan. Half of them were crying now. They remembered their personal memory of her perfection; and now they mourn that loss.

“That happened two months ago, when the doctor said that she only had a few weeks to live.”

I took a deep breath as I bowed my head down to stare at her coffin, trying to see through that brass cover. Trying to imagine her smile as I went on with what we’ve planned. But I couldn’t see a smile. My grief did not permit me to imagine one.

“As many of you already know, I was the only one with her during the last week of her life. I know that more than half of you have no idea who I am, and you’re all probably asking yourselves: ‘why him?’”

I paused to give my words time to sink in. The sobbing died down slowly as they all raised their heads to look at me. Ever her mom stifled her cries to hear me out.

“I told you she was perfect. My words may have been misconstrued, so I will explain. She was perfect, because of her imperfections. She had that mix of being a nice little baby girl and a fucked up druggie.”

They gasped once when I said fucked up, and again immediately after druggie. They weren’t angry, not yet at least, just shocked.

“This is going to be hard to hear, I promise you. I find no pleasure in bringing all of you the things I’m about to say, but trust that this was her last will. She wanted to write it herself, but she just couldn’t. She wanted to meet each and every one of you, but she didn’t have enough life left. Allow me to fulfill what she asked. Allow me to destroy your notion of her.”

I saw them all shift uncomfortably.

“For starters, let me introduce myself. My name is Paul. Janine and I fucked for almost a year before she got diagnosed.”

There were a few angry, but hushed voices at one side of my audience. I assumed that’s where her boyfriend of six years stood.

“I use the word fucked, because there was no love. It was all animalistic, all carnal fucking. She didn’t love me and I didn’t love her then, we just fucked. She keeps on telling me she loves her boyfriend, Justin, and how she wanted to marry him and have a happy life with him.”

Someone shouted from the crowd. I couldn’t hear it over the raindrops and over the pounding of my heart. I set my right hand down to her coffin, as if asking for some guidance. None came, of course. A few people held down a kicking and screaming man which I assumed to be Justin.

“Every time she said she was playing tennis, she was fucking me. I knew she had a boyfriend even before she told me about Justin. I just didn’t care. For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”

“Janine told me about her friends she used to like, to love. She said she stopped caring about all of you years after she graduated. She loved you when you guys had use to her, but beyond that, there was nothing. She was using all of you for the business she was starting. She kept the bond, because she wanted to use you. She would always bitch about how every single one of you demands for time she didn’t want to give. She didn’t want any of you here today.”

Some shouted profanities now. Others again started to cry.

“Janine was a crack whore,” I continued through the shouts. “She would do just about anything to score some drugs. That’s how we met, and that’s also why I felt no love for her. She wasn’t just a piece of meat to me; she was a piece of meat to anyone who had a dick and drugs. She spent the money she kept on stealing from her mother on drugs. She pinned the loss of money to failed business endeavors, but nothing else failed but her. I believe that this caused her mom and dad to separate, she knew it was the cause, she just didn’t care and was too much on crack.”

I saw Janine’s mom break down to tears. She fell on her knees and cried her eyes out. At that point, the people holding down Justin let go. He ran directly towards me with a raised fist. Poor Justin, I already saw this coming.

The loud bang from my gun somehow clicked off time. I stood there with a smoking barrel raised while my audience looked on with wide eyes and open mouths as Justin seemed to fall down slowly because of one shot to the head. His brain matter splashed Janine’s coffin. He fell down the muddy ground with a small thud.

“Please,” I said as I faced them again. “Hear me out. She wanted this to happen, and I promised her I’ll do whatever I can to carry out what she asked.”

“I don’t want to kill anyone else,” I said weakly. “Please, understand.”

Nobody said anything. I think they all understood.

“I promised her I’ll kill Justin. This was her gun. She loved Justin, way too much. I couldn’t even begin to explain her love for him. But she was also incredibly selfish. If you mix extreme selfishness and love, you get this.”

I used the gun in my hand to point at Justin’s corpse. Some people braced for another shot, but that didn’t come.

“She didn’t want anyone else to have Justin.”

There was silence. They were all scared. I can hear their collective heartbeat drum along with the thick raindrops on Janine’s coffin.

“I went back to that field I was telling you about the day Janine died. That’s the place where I fell in love with her, after all.”

I heard police sirens from a distance.

This was also expected.

“I had to circle back a few times. I thought I had forgotten where the field was. Five times I circled back, five times I landed on the same area,” I said as I wiped the remaining blood off of Janine’s coffin with my shaking hands. “The grass was no longer green, but dirty brown. The butterflies were gone, flies swarmed the place instead. The mango tree no longer towered in the middle of the field, it was reduced to a stump. The place reeked of death.”

The sirens were getting closer. My speech was coming to an end.

“The place did not transform over the months, you see. It was all Janine. You’re all here today because of her loss; but you’re not just losing Janine, you’re losing a perspective. When Janine was telling me what to say to you people, I had a feeling that she wanted to be hated; she wanted to be exposed because she wanted to hurt all of you. Right before she died, she handed me a piece of paper and it read ‘I’m just using you.’ I wanted to get offended, I wanted to destroy her plan, but don’t you see? It’s not really about her, is it? Everything was about us, every single one of us was selfish.”

This wasn’t planned. This was unexpected.

“We loved her because of what she was able to show us, despite her imperfections. She was a loving girlfriend, she was a caring friend, she was the perfect daughter. We didn’t care for what she was really doing underneath all the actions she did. We saw her the way we wanted to see her. If we just looked hard enough or cared a wee bit more, we could’ve read through all her actions, but we didn’t.”

The cops were there now. A few people shouted from behind me, telling me to drop the gun and to give up.

Not how I promised her.

“The field was barren and dead because she’s not here anymore to make us see it differently. That’s how she affected each and every one of us. She made us see the perfection that was not there. For that, and for that alone, I want you all to forgive Janine and remember her for being an ideal friend and daughter. Remember the way she made everything seem perfect.”

Gunshots, six maybe seven. There was a different sensation from being shot in the back. It’s like knowing that it will suck and it’s out to kill you, but since you didn’t see it coming, it as if it was doing something more, as if it burned far more, like it sucked even harder.

I fell forward to her coffin, forward to Janine, just like I promised.

I was imagining the warmest hug I ever gave her that one sunny day in the field.

Hoping she’ll take me back to paradise.

Back in 2007, I regularly went to Fitness First in Eastwood to work out. I usually go there in the afternoon, because of my schedule. I usually finish around 7ish, the time when families show up in restaurants or movie theaters.

When I’m alone in a mall or any place similar, I observe people. I have fun watching them, observing how they behave, taking unnecessary interest in whatever it is that they’re doing. I see people do really weird shit most of the time. In fact, it happens way too often, and it makes you wonder if you act weird when you don’t think anybody’s watching.

There’s this stage in the middle of Eastwood where they usually hold their concerts. When the decorations are down, it’s reduced to a flat, elevated space. People, mainly families hang out here a lot during that 7ish time slot. I decided to drink my tea there one lonely Wednesday night.

So there I was, tea in hand, staring at random people in the area. A couple was fighting—what looked like fighting to me, the girl crossed her arms and turned her back to the guy, who looked flustered—just a few feet away from me. I thought of listening in their conversation and observe, unfortunately, the girl stormed out even before I could move in.

A little tennis ball rolled towards me and stopped when it hit my foot. When I picked it up, a kid wobbled towards me. He was a very little, yet very round kid. He was probably no more than 3 years old and wore a red and white Pokemon sando in which his round arms seemed to have difficulty squeezing into. He had his eyes on the ball the whole time, he was going to reach for it (I was holding it out for him) when he looked up and saw me. His little outstretched hand rolled into a ball and he kept on staring.

“Get your ball,” a gentle voice said.

It was his father. The little boy looked at his father, then at the ball, then at me, back to the ball, then back to me. I smiled at him and I offered the ball in my hand. The little boy took it and ran back to his father.

“Oh, say thank you!” His father told him.

“Tankeew,” the boy sounded out.

“You’re welcome,” I said.

The boy continued to run around, bouncing his ball as he did so. The father smiled and nodded at me then he went chasing after his round kid. I thought of observing them, but decided against it. I have observed so many father-son combos in the past and I pretty much know how theirs will go, so I looked for a more entertaining subject.

A middle-aged woman with one too many shopping bags in her hands walked by. She stopped a few feet from where the platform was--where I was seated--and started to rummage through her bag. She was holding on to a Nike bag with what could only be shoes and a basketball in one of those basketball nets in her right hand and another bag from Adidas while trying to balance a drink in her left. The straps of her big red bag were secured in her arms.

I was tempted to help her out, but I thought I’d rather observe.

There was a faint ringing coming from her bag. The call must have been important, because she almost immediately searched for her phone when it rang. She could’ve set her things down on the platform three feet away, but she chose to stand there and make life harder for her.

The ringing stopped, but her rummaging didn't. She was absentmindedly grumbling as she did so, but it was so faint I couldn’t make out any of it. The ringing started again and she had a chance to look towards my direction. She eyed the platform and worked her way towards it while still trying to dig through her bag. Then I saw a little tennis ball zip past her. I followed it for a while, and then I realized what was coming after it. Sure enough, when I looked back after a hard thud, the bags were scattered all over the floor, and the kid was face down on the ground.

The woman was horrified, and the father came running towards the fallen kid.

“Ben?” The father asked out loud. “Are you okay, Ben?”

The round kid looked at his father; he had a nasty scratch on his forehead, but no blood. The woman was in the verge of tears and the father was still calmly talking to his son. The sight was not particularly funny, but it was amusing.

“Are you hurt?”

The kid looked like he wanted to cry, but hasn’t decided yet. The middle-aged woman was now hysterical because she saw the scratches on the boy’s forehead. The boy looked up to her; that’s when he decided to let out the waterworks.

“Please calm down,” the father said to the sobbing woman. “He’s fine, see?”

“I’m so sorry! My bags were in the way, my phone was ringing, I wasn’t looking, I’m sorry!” The lady cried.

“That’s alright, please calm down so you can apologize to my son yourself,” the father said.

There was a weird calmness to this boy’s father. Considering that his baby Ben just crashed into a middle-aged woman and was still lying on the floor crying, he seemed a little too docile. When the woman realized that the boy was still crying and was still sprawled on the ground like a Playgirl centerfold model, she bent over to pick the boy up. The father stopped her.

“Let him take care of himself,” the father said.

The woman, puzzled by this father’s actions, quickly pulled back. The father gave her a nod, and then knelt in front of his son.

“Ben, stop crying,” the father said. His voice was firm and just in the verge of being commanding, but still father-like.

The boy raised his round little head to look at his father; tears constantly rolled down his chubby cheeks. He tried stopping his sobs, which caused his cheeks to be even puffier and his lips to pout. It was almost cute. The woman thought so too, as she smiled and frowned at the same time (if you have no idea what this looks like, go in front of the mirror now and try it. You’ll see what I’m talking about).

“Okay, good,” the father said once the sobbing subsided. “Now get up.”

The boy picked himself up using his stubby little arms. His father patted his head and gave his forehead a kiss.

“You’re okay, Ben. It’s just a scratch, nothing to cry about,” the father said.

Ben gave his father a hug.

The woman looked as if her heart melted like a McDonald’s Sundae Cone in Boracay. She was practically gushing up now and was once again ready to cry. When the kid said “I love you, Papa,” and gave his father a kiss, the middle-aged woman broke down in tears. It’s her turn to spend some time on the cold, dirty pavement of Eastwood City.

The father was shocked by the woman’s tears. The boy was unsure of what to do. Heck, I didn’t know what the hell was happening. The father approached the woman and crouched down beside her, his little kid in tow.

“Ma’am,” he said in a very gentle voice. “My boy, he’s alright. He’s not hurt. It’s okay, really. Look. It’s not your fault.”

“No, it’s just that, your son, he loves you,” she said through sobs.

That’s when I realized that this wasn’t just about banging into that boy. This stemmed from something deeper, this was coming from something kicking and screaming inside her. The father seemed to get to the same conclusion as well; he looked around and gathered the crying woman’s scattered stuff, save from the spilled cup of Coke.

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” he said.

Wow, this guy was good. I speculated, but he really jumped the gun on that one. It seemed to be a fairly good reason, but the chances of that being right were slim.

“It’s his birthday today,” she said. “He was supposed to turn 8.”

The woman looked around and hugged the shopping bags she was just carrying.

It was sad.

I wasn’t the only one watching at this point. People around the area were looking at the scene of the sad middle-aged woman, on the floor as she cried and hug her son’s presents.

What happened next was a bit, well no, it was REALLY unexpected.

“Ma’am, I want you to stop crying.”

I stared at the father as if he was losing his mind. He looked like he’s not a day older than this woman who just told him that it was her dead son’s birthday. There was no chance of this ever working.

But it did. The woman stopped her tears.

In the same commanding, yet gentle voice he used on his son, the father said: “Now I want you to get up.”

The woman did.

It was like watching one of those cults in TV where the pastor tells a crippled man to get off his wheelchair and start doing cartwheels. It was quite a sight, seeing this was the closest I’d get to street magic.

The woman’s head was bowed down, probably of shame, when she gathered her stuff up. When she picked the last of her bags, she looked up to the father and mumbled a word of thanks. She knelt down in front of the kid she crashed into and apologized. The woman shot the father a glance, and the father just knowingly nodded. She slowly pulled the little boy to her and hugged him.

It was as if she was saying goodbye.

She wiped the last of her tears away as she walked out of the area. Most of the people stopped looking now, but I continued to stare. The father just watched the woman walk away until she was no longer in sight. The boy wobbled away a bit to get his ball, then wobbled his way back.

The father held his boy’s head. For the third time tonight, he knelt.

“That woman lost someone she loved,” the boy’s father said. “Someone like you, to me. I don’t know if you’ll remember this day, son, but when you grow up and you do, remember this part too, okay? I love you, very much. You are the most important person in my life and I’m happy to be your father. I cherished the moments we had and the moments we’ll spend together, how ever long that may be.”

The boy looked wide-eyed at his father. I don’t think he understood what was happening or what his father meant, but I want to believe that he did. I want to believe that he’ll remember.

The father kissed his son’s forehead and hugged him tight.

It looked as if he was saying goodbye.

Uh, okay. Nakita ko to while digging through the archives ng YM kanina.

I found it interesting and a bit timely, well for personal reasons. Basta, mga March 2009 to eh, tapos yung friend ko, nalaman niyang nagccheat yung girlfriend niya sa kanya.


Jed: oh, eh di anong sabi mo?
F: eh ano pa bang sasabihin ko diba?
F: sasabihin ko ba na puta siya?
F: na skwating siya
F: na ginago niya ako?
F: ewan ko. wala akong nasabi sa kanya
Jed: hm
Jed: anong sabi niya?
F: ayon, nagsosorry
F: na hindi naman daw niya sinadyang mangyari yon
F: na nangyari lang daw talaga
F: haha tangina
F: nakakagago pag sinasabi ng mga tao yon, na nangyari lang, na hindi sinasadya
F: eh putcha, pag nandun ka na sa sitwasyon na yon, ikaw na yung magaact eh
F: sige, pwede siguro na yung unang beses nilang magkakilala, magusap at magtext, di sinasadya na nangyari na naging close sila
F: pero taena naman, habang sinasabihan niya ako na mahal niya ako, may nilalaplap o sinisibak siyang iba?
F: tangina diba, hindi ba sinasadya yon? kagaguhan
Jed: alam mo, wala ka nang magagawa don eh
Jed: kasi ang nangyayari pag ganyan yung ginagawa niya
Jed: iniisip niya na yan yung mas hindi nakakagago pakinggan
Jed: na yan yung mas soft yung dating
Jed: kasi naman, pag sinabi niya na “oo nga, talagang naghanap ako ng iba kasi hindi na ako masaya sa iyo at kelangan ko na talaga ng ibang tao” eh di parang mas nakakagago yon
F: mas gusto mo ba na isusugarcoat pa yung sitwasyon sa iyo
F: kasi medyo may right naman ako to hear the truth diba
F: hindi ba she owes me that much, at least?
Jed: oo nga, ako rin ayaw ko na ginagawa sa akin yan
Jed: pero shempre, snasabi mo yan ngayon, pero pag sinabi niya yung totoo sayo, yung talagang nararamdaman nya, sobrang mas masasaktan ka lang.
Jed: seryoso man, mas masakit yon. you deserve the right to know the truth, yeah sige
Jed: pero at the same time, you kinda don’t need to hear the brutal truth na
Jed: that’s just too much for you at this state
F: ewan na, taena
F: ang hindi ko magets
F: isa’t kalahating taon yon
F: hindi ba nakakagago na isa’t kalahating taon tapos nauwi kami sa parang gaguhan lang?
F: kasi kung titignan mo, it’s just a breakup
F: normal to, ive been through tons
F: pero habang tumatanda ka kasi at taena, 25 na ako
F: mas madali kasi dati to meet people, ang dali mag date date lang
F: pag may ayaw ka sa kanya, eh di tapusin na move on to the next, kasi ang dali eh
F: pero ngayon
F: pag mayroon akong kahit na maliit na connection lang with someone
F: I tend to hold on to that
F: kasi alam kong hindi yon kadali to come around these days
F: lalo na at this juncture in our lives
F: alam mo yon?
Jed: hahaha
Jed: yeah, alam ko EXACTLY kung anong sinasabi mo
Jed: hm
Jed: sobrang dami ko nang nakausap about this exact same thing
Jed: going through a breakup
Jed: questioning what was real
Jed: sobrang dami na and parepareho lang yung sinasabi ko sa kanila
F: chicks ba?
F: haha ano?
Jed: well oo kadalasan
Jed: hindi, pero
Jed: nangyari na kasi yon eh. at that moment, alam mong minemean niya yung sinasabi niya. at that moment, genuine yung buong thing. so sa moment na to, obviously, hindi na. hindi mo pwedeng kuhanin yung moment na iyon at tignan at icompare sa moment ngayon, kasi hindi na tama yon. iba na yung nararamdaman ngayon eh.
Jed: naramdaman mo yung nangyari dati diba? para sa iyo, totoo naman yon.
Jed: so naglokohan lang ba kayo dati nung sinabi niya na mahal ka niya at gagawin niya nag lahat para sa iyo at kahit kailan hindi ka niya iiwan kahit ano pang mangyari?
Jed: of course not.
Jed: so hindi naman siya conniving little bitch since day one. ganon lang talaga eh. nangyari yung mga nangyari. lumipas na yung mga lumipas. lahat ng tao nagbabago. gusto ka nila ngayon, and I guess they have every right para hindi ka na gustuhin after a while. minsan wala ka namang ginagawang mali, pero ganon lang talaga eh.
Jed: it happens.
Jed: and ang magagawa lang natin is well, to get over it.
F: alam ko naman lahat yan
F: pero ang sinasabi ko lang
F: ang hirap na talaga
F: parang magsesever nanaman ako ng tao na nagsayang ako ng 1 ½ years with
F: alam mo yon? nakakapagod na eh
F: and yun nga ang hirap na maghanap ng ganong klaseng chemistry with another person
Jed: haha yeah.
Jed: ewan, isa ako sa gustong maniwala na hindi tayo powerless when it comes to this stuff
Jed: but we so are.
F: napanood mo na ba yung before sunrise at before sunset?
Jed: di pa, pero alam ko yung premise.
Jed: dalawang taong naguusap diba?
F: haha
F: well yeah if you want to simplify it
F: pero it’s much more than that
Jed: ano ba yung storya non
F: okay lang ispoil ko? arte mo sa movies eh. haha
Jed: ayos lang, wala naman akong balak panoorin yon
F: okay fine
F: so may guy tapos may nameet siyang girl sa train sa europe. nagusap lang sila ng konti about some really mundane crap. tapos basta after a while, umabot na sila sa stop nung guy. but then he asked the girl muna to go with him for a day dun sa kung saan man yon.
Jed: so total strangers na nagdecide na magsama lang for a bit sa isang strange place?
F: yeah, ganon
F: tapos sa buong film, wala lang, nagusap lang sila ng nagusap about stuff. tapos shempre, mas naging touchy na sila, romantic romantic, etc.
Jed: obviously. yung moment palang na bumaba ng train yung babae tapos sumama sa isang stranger, medyo sealed na yung deal eh.
F: haha. oo nga, mamemention yan somewhere sa film.
F: oh basta yon, they connected in so many levels and ang genuine lang nung buong thing nila
F: they were there for nothing else but be together, to walk around, see the sights of that place and just be with each other.
Jed: hm
Jed: okay so let me guess
Jed: they end the thing
Jed: without telling each other details about themselves, like email, numbers, etc. to “preserve the purity of the moment”
Jed: parang they ended it right then and there, kasi pag inextend pa nila yon, masisira na yung perfect day nila together.
Jed: tama? tama? hahaha.
F: haha
F: taena ka talaga
F: well, parang ganon, but not quite.
F: at first, ganon yung balak nila, no numbers, no addys, no nothing
F: pero the moment na umabot sila sa train station while sharing their last kiss, naisip nila na that’s crazy, and they want to see each other again.
Jed: okay, so ano, facebook?
F: gago, di pa laganap internet all that much at the time
F: sabi nila, they’ll meet back there sa station in a year, sakto.
Jed: man, so di sila nagkita no? may nagflake?
F: well, the first movie ended there. dun sa pagplan
F: the second movie, parang 9 years later na
F: tapos yon, basta ang galing nung story
Jed: ugh, may relevance ba to sa breakup mo?
F: kind of, yeah
F: kasi
F: nung nagkita ulit sila, may kanya kanyang buhay na sila. yung guy may asawa na, yung babae may boyfriend. so alam mo yon, they moved on na. 9 years ba naman eh, I mean diba? you can only hold on to a memory for so much
F: pero when they met nga, sobrang parang sinasabi nila sa isa’t isa kung gano nila iniisip yung bawat isa constantly. tapos yun nga, the guy wrote a book about that day eh, tapos sumikat siya, kaya ganon, nahanap siya nung babae.
F: pero basta, unhappy yung guy sa marriage niya, kasi kahit nung wedding day niya, iniisip niya ng sobra yung stranger na nameet niya sa train.
Jed: eh ganon naman talaga diba?
Jed: lahat tayo may pinaghahawakan na ideal
Jed: tapos pag hindi nakakamit yung ideal na yon, hindi na tayo masaya.
Jed: so we keep on searching for the ideal. tapos dalawa lang naman yung pwedeng mangyari jan eh, either yung idea makamit mo, or masira yung buhay mo kakahanap sa isang concept, na kahit kailan hindi makakamit.
F: oo, so dito sa case nila, pano? sabihin na natin na yung ideal nila yung isat isa
Jed: alam mo
Jed: sobrang mali na agad eh
Jed: kasi isipin mo, hindi naman talaga sila magkakilala eh. kahit na they spent all that day, that’s still a day.
Jed: taena, kahit sino bigyan mo ng isa pang tao na may kahit na kaunting chemistry, tatagal sila ng isang buong araw talking about everything and nothing and end up having the best day of their lives. kasi yun nga, isang araw lang iyon. hindi naman nila makikilala yung isa’t isa eh, kaya nagwowork. best foot lang yung nakikita, kasi wala nang time to discover the bad side.
Jed: look at it this way
Jed: sabihin na natin na yung guy, talagang tumira kasama nung girl
Jed: sa tingin mo ba tatagal yon ng lagpas isang taon? hindi no!
Jed: pag nagkakilala na yung mga yon, yari na. unang sign ng problema, makikita nila na ang flawed nung ginawa nila, na nagsama na sila after one magical night.
Jed: oras na magisip sila sa kung anong nangyayari, masisira na yon
Jed: shempre shock and awe pa to sa start eh, no time to think about anything, lahat ng ginagawa nila, reactions lang sa mga pinapakita ng isa’t isa.
Jed: that shit won’t last otherwise. the ideal, is not really the ideal, kasi di man lang nila kilala yung isa’t isa. pano mo malalaman yung ideal just by the initial reaction?
F: wow, you just really fucked up the whole romantic vibe of the movie
F: destiny yon man, fate!
Jed: hahaha
Jed: pakinggan mo nga sarili mo
Jed: kung destiny, fate at kung ano man yung at work dito, eh di fate rin yung dapat mong sisihin sa pagbreak niyo ng chicks mo.
Jed: so ba’t ka pa nagagalit? ba’t ka pa nagmumukmok? wala ka naman palang magagawa diba? fate naman pala lahat to eh.
Jed: or selective ba yan?
Jed: pag maganda, it’s fate, pag panget, it’s just wrong.
Jed: parang, you thank god for the good things, but you curse the devil for the bad.
Jed: kawawa naman yung demonyo, puro negative feedback lang nakukuha
F: yeah, fine. kahit na it’s fate, tao parin ako eh, and kaya ko masaktan
Jed: haha, taena, don’t get me started with that shit


Hm, part lang to ng conversation namin. Napahaba, pero talagang pinili ko nalang yung part na pinaka-relevant.

Kakapanood ko lang kasi nung Before Sunrise and Before Sunset.

Okay naman, maganda naman yung movies. Pero I still don’t agree with the whole thing. Kasi, di naman magkakilala yung mga yon talaga eh. Naromanticize na nila yung isa’t isa dahil sa situation at dahil sa mga nangyayari sa kanila, pero really, there’s nothing there.

Take a guy, any guy na kayang magisip kahit kaunti lang. Tapos take a girl, any girl. Yung kayang sumakay sa kanya ng kahit konti lang.

Bigyan mo sila ng 20 hours together.

They can make magic happen as long as they’re both willing. Ganon naman yon eh. Simple lang.

If you give someone a chance, anyone, talagang makukuha mo rin yung ideal. Magbabago kasi yon as you go on with your life eh.

Kung tumira sa Paris yung lalake ng agad agad without going home to the US, seryoso, sira agad yung relasyon ng dalawang iyon. pag nagkakilala yon ng mas matino, wala na, I’m 95% sure na it’s going to be over real fast.

Happy New Year , eh?