Rizal 101

The beacon to my learning curve hopefully

I admit it was a bit extravagant given my idle circumstances, however from past experience I knew it was the right thing to do if I didn't want to be reminded of my mediocre choices.  I didn't want to play host to a parasite; I was just a cell in need of mitosis.

You reminded me of how it was to be in college again, worrying only about my allowance and attending church the next day.  You were someone I never was when I was your age, shy yet daring, soft yet hard, young yet experienced.  I can't remember the last time I had an encounter with anyone that intimate and casual at the same time.  You knew what you were doing, yet you've kept your sweetness and naivete.  We took our time and I really appreciated that.

I'll try not to hurt you nor give you false hopes because I know for a fact this won't go anywhere.  But before that day comes, let me bask in the attention you give me.  Let me dwell with the ease with which you put in me, the hurt I willingly submit to as I exhale deeper and deeper, the way you look at me when you know I'm not looking.  

The window blinds are closed, but I do not hear the cars rushing through the skyway on the way to the airport.  I am not reminded of my yet unconfirmed trip in Novemeber and all the tantrums that surround it.  I do not see the stoplights at midnight while the buses thrust their way toward the south.  For now I am not worried about losing the apartment soon and losing my false independence.  I do not think of future appointments trying to communicate with me while I'm offline, nor do I care so much about friends who can't say sorry for the sake of old friendship.  No.  I only feel our individual pulses in that area that tells me we are bonded.  I only focus on you.  I let myself arrive earlier, my first time in that manner, and for once I do not feel like I faked it.  

If I were studying Rizal today, things would've been different.  But for now, you have to stay in school and I have to stop pretending things are okay.    

Dog chases after its own tale

Because you better numb that pain
That blunt bout of cramping that gets to you
Alone or in the arms of strangers, 
it tugs at you like the tingly sensation of a sleepy arm.
The pain wraps around your loins with insatiable hunger,
Like a strong craving for deep-fried bacon.
You better numb that hunger before it envelops you
and all that you stand for, or lack in life.
There is no time for loneliness, no more dreaming
because dreams are for folks who live in white towns.
No, these are not for those who stay at home and pray
for the slow miracles to a broken promise.
Everyone is busy, nobody lives in their houses.
So how come you feel for thievery?
You pretend to steal bits and pieces from the living.
You run and you run, you trip and scrape your knee.
You check yourself in the mirror and wash your wounds.
You see the soils eat up your palms, bury seeds and stones,
create craters on the bright side of your face.
It is all illusion, a creative excuse to keep going.
There is no direction.  There is no harvest.
There is no time to do laundry, no time to cook.
No time to eat because you better numb that feeling.
There is only time to numb the pain like everyone else.  
Eyes closed, you imagine that salty-sweet bacon 
enveloping you in its warm, oily, caloric hug.
A tingly feeling that wraps around you like rubber  
the thin kind that's wrapped around a soft sausage.
You take a bite, you swallow without interest.
You imagine it sliding deep inside your throat.
All there is is the rough, grainy texture,
the kind that's so difficult to take in without chewing.