Birthday Blues 2016

Four months on hiatus and now I find myself facing two weeks before my birthday. The ultra hectic schedule and an endless list of tasks, add to that the worsening holiday traffic, everything seems to be onthe wrong side.

And yesterday, news of the dictator Marcos' burial in Heroes' Cemetery made me anxious about the future of this country. People are not happy and rallies were organized in different places on short notice. I worry that this might cause a civil war. The AFP, represented by the acting chief of staff Lt. Gen. Glorioso Miranda, was shown to hand over the Philippine flag to Imelda during the funeral rites. It is not hard to see that AFP will be at the receiving end of the people's criticisms and discontent yet again. The Marcoses, desiring to keep the whole thing solemn and private, were described as "thieves of the night" this time just as they were "thieves in broad daylight" during the height of the Marcos era.

As a social scientist, I find it amazing how today's technology is able to mobilize a huge number of people into action in a moment's notice. Anyone is bound to remember the role social media played in bringing down Middle Eastern regimes perceived to be corrupt. Since last night, people have gathered at the People Power Monument, aming other places, to voice out their discontent. In social media, activists have been flooding the newsfeeds with posts on human rights, corruption, and revisionist history. The trending hashtag: #Marcosnotahero or variations of such.

On the other side, there are people who espouse moving on and forgiveness using religion as a tool to "promote peace", but it backfires. They are quick to be ridiculed as ignoramuses who are told to read more about the Marcos years. This is where our heavily flawed education system is manifested. Supposedly well-educated people, the likes who graduated from UST (thank God I haven't come across a UP graduate who is in favor of the honors bestowed on Marcos) even, are surprisingly lacking in critical thinking. Move on and forget? Yes, there are many more issues that demand our attention, but to bury a dictator in a place reserved for those who contributed positively to the general public? Or has the concept of "hero" changed for these people? The reason why this is a big deal is because it adds insult to injury. Our being Manila-centric is again showing. We know very little about the peripheries. Our understanding of the Muslim South is so pitifully small and full of misconceptions. How many people have heard of the massacres of innocent civilians? How many people have heard of the Jabidah massacre, the Malisbong massacre? Does the average person know that cultural genocide has been taking place here in our very own country?

I do not blame these people. I remember reading only the positive things Marcos did for PH when I was in elementary. I remember being awed that wow, he stayed in power for 20 years! Back then, I did not understand Martial Law. My parents both praise Marcos for it because they said it brought back discipline. It was only in college when I heard about stories of crimes against humanity. I began reading more, listening to more stories, asking more questions. At the end of the day, when these stories surface, the good and the bad, you can't help but be stuck. There were stories that Marcos was being defamed by the Americans because he suddenly shifted foreign policy to include communist/socialist states. And there are the arguments that the post-Marcos years were also rife with human rights injustices but why are we venerating the Aquinos?

Again, we see how people think in black and white. Criticize one and you're surely an ally of the other camp. Can't we be just mature citizens who are just being vigilant, who are just exercising democracy to ensure that the government is not oppressing the people???

And there are many more issues to this. My mind is tired. My heart is tired. Just as I was starting to trust D, this happens. Why are we so good at betraying trust? Why is credibility no longer important?

I go back to asking these same questions, how we have drifted far away from morality, how this world is consumed by materialism we no longer give importance to spirituality. I cannot help but think of the tragedies that occured in my personal life, how I wished so hard to just disappear from this world because I found it inhabitable, too cold, too dark, too cruel. The inner longing to go back to the point of origin is more intense than ever. I just want to dissociate myself from this world.

This year I lost my innocence. This year I lost my optimism. This year I lost the will to effectuate change. I lost it all, I lost my self, I lost my dreams. Last year was the beginning and this year things worsened. I wonder what's in store for me next year? But maybe it's not a bad thing altogether being exposed to the cruel sides of the world. I never knew how strong I was, or maybe it is just innate in me to perform well despite the misfortunes of life? That despite my shattered self, my brain still functions well, though admittedly not as well as before. Sad.

Maybe I am just reaping what I sowed. I wasn't able to fully show my love to the Light of my life. That guilt made me go the extra mile in loving a new person in my life, afraid that I might make the same mistake of losing a person without showing the depth and breadth of my love. Yet it was still a mistake. So I am back to slowly building my own shell, which shattered to a million pieces those times I chose to love fiercely without hesitation, without limits. Maybe I loved the wrong person. Or maybe the time is not right. Who are we to know? I only know that if I believe in something, I will really do everything, that I will take great pains to protect something I hold sacred and dear. Except it might just be grasping for the wind, leaving me frozen in the same exact spot where I was left hanging.

I'm just too old-fashioned. I am not meant to live in today's world marked by a hyperconsumerist culture. I cannot compare. I cannot compete. I cannot thrive. Authenticity is too strong that everyone else is overwhelmed. I must relearn the art of solitude. 

Christmas 12252015

Christmas Day this year was spent in the office, one hour shy of completing my normal shift but I had to go because I wanted to spend sometime in a church as I did last year. Except I didn't go to my peaceful sanctuary because I left later than planned so I opted for the nearer church.

We had free lunch meals ordered from Cafe Nenzo as in last year. I love the fish fillet with garlic and butter. The cheesecake was exciting at first but the heaviness of cream cheese made me just gulp down the whole thing with water. The chocolate cake was one of the best ones I've had, to think I don't even like chocolate cake. But this one had just the right sweetness and the cake itself was moist. Yummy!

While to many working on holidays suck, I welcome the opportunity because I am more productive when I am alone. I get a lot of work done and I think better when alone.

Before heading home I dropped by Booksale to claim my reserved books: Pillars of the Republic and The Journals of Lewis and Clark. The latter is something I have been wishing for but it was always priced in the P150-P250 range so now that it dropped to P50 I saw my chance of having a copy. The other book is not much of interest to me but the blurb says something about common-school development before the American Civil War. Lately I have become interested in developments of systems and institutions as opposed to my earlier obsessions on origins (that's why I took up archaeology in the first place).

Walking on major roads, one can see the ugly side of Christmas. No wonder I am always gloomy and in a bad mood at this time of the year. Metro Manila is turned into one big stinking garbage city thanks to the undisciplined people and also to the MMDA's little effort in apprehending the violators of the Anti-Littering Law.

As I was looking for my last jeepney ride, I chanced upon one empty but on the inner lane so I hopped inside. The driver asked me where I was headed to because he was about to go home already. Just so happened that he would pass by near where I live so he told me there was no need to pay even though I insisted many times. So I just wished him a Merry Christmas.

Metro Problems and More

It's November and it's hot. Yesterday it drizzled a bit which lasted for just a few minutes and it was back to being hot again.

There have been news of another El Niño which is expected to last until mid-2016. It's scary how symptoms of climate change are making their presence felt more and more. With water shortage, we can expect fewer harvest which means less food and higher prices of commodities. I wonder how future generations will cope given the ignorance and indifference of the people toward these challenges.

It's the third Ber month already. And Metro Manila is experiencing worse traffic problems. DPWH really has to start construction of the expressway from the south to the north at this time of the year. I am tired of labeling the government as incompetent. Methinks this is its way to maintain the status quo, to ensure that people are too tired to think critically and to dumb down the masses.

And they are doing a pretty good job with the help of the media.

I may be wrong but this is not a far possibility. Majority of "educated" people stop learning and reading after getting their diplomas. Who can blame them when they have other roles to fulfill. It is, however, unpardonable to not even engage in discourses that tackle important issues. It seems that people are already contented with whatever junk the media is feeding them.

For instance, there should be more topics on how to improve the quality of life of each Filipino. We can start off by observing about the current situations and understanding the circumstances we are in. We can narrow this further by looking into different sectors. For instance, we regularly experience the perennial traffic jams in urban areas like Metro Manila. We understand that there are several things which contribute to this: lack of discipline on the part of drivers, too many private vehicles, road conditions, irresponsible commuters, etc. What I would like to see is people drilling down deeper into the problem, not propose interim solutions like road expansion or expressway construction. Let's be realistic. If the number of private vehicles increase, there will come a time that building more roads would only bring more chaos.

How about something like influencing people to walk or to bike or to commute? There will be strong opposition to these since we all know that Metro Manila is one dangerous place where criminals prey on unsuspecting victims. Or how about a propaganda targeted at women that men who own cars are not cool because it shows how insensitive they are to the plight of others. Driving a car contributes to pollution and traffic. Instead of glamorizing car owners, they should be shamed for their vanity.

Because, just why are young men eager to get their own cars? To impress women, that's why. And women, oh women, please do not choose a lover based on what he owns. Stop being materialistic and look at a person for what he is rather than what he has.

And so I guess this is one of the many reasons why boys despise me. Because I would reprimand them when they try to impress me with their flashy cars. I even knew of one "environmentalist" who drives his car even with no other passenger and I often hint at his hypocrisy, telling him to commute instead but he wouldn't. The same goes for his friend who dated me and who retorted that he didn't want me to be drenched in the rain so he'd rather drive for me. @.@ The horrors! I despise such low view of women. I certainly don't need those "comforts". Methinks they are being sissies and making excuses to make it seem like they care for the girls. Ugh!

And yeah I can be a nagger. Because I believe it is the duty of one to speak her mind when she sees something is wrong. But woe to her who lives amongst those who choose to live in lies, imprisoned and chained to worldly desires! Must I lose hope. Don't want to though honestly I am getting all the more disappointed [and cynical].

Warrior

Back in highschool, when I started to attend a Born Again Christian Bible study group despite being a Catholic (an erstwhile devout Catholic whose faith was beginning to crumble), the Pastor told us what type of person we were. He labelled me as a warrior, seeing that I defend my ideas to the end. Back then I couldn't accept that label because I saw myself more as a healer than as a warrior. Reason for this is my dislike for conflict and because I have always assumed a neutral post, never taking sides and being thoroughly objective (as I could) with people.

But now I am beginning to think that he might be right. It wold be doing a great disservice to warriors when we think of them only as bloodthirsty warfreaks. Later on in my life, I learned what being a true warrior is, like a samurai or a knight, defender of the oppressed, voice of the voiceless, a helping hand to the needy, defender of the noble principles of truth and justice. Bit by bit, I saw my life going toward that direction, shedding the ego that once imprisoned me and which almost sent me down the abyss had not the light of my life saved me from that darkness inside of me.

Not that the darkness was completely purged, but I can say that I have come to control it better nowadays, resulting in relatively happier days. Except now that the light of my life is slowly fading down the horizon, the child warrior is at risk to be lost once again. I hope not. Memories will live on and will be the main guide to the shining path. Beautiful memories of warmth, love, affection...

Yesterday I finally did visit her, bringing with her a juicer/ blender because I heard she refused to eat. I was happy when she called me by my name, the name which I so despised since childhood. Still hearing her call my name made me glad. She must be surprised to find my at the doorstep, knowing that I am too busy with many things. That much is true but I know that if I do not savor the remaining time that we have, I will regret it for the rest of my life. I've lived in guilt for almost every single day of my life and it was sheer torture. The best I can do now is to prevent the same thing from happening again.

Yes, I am not afraid to say that I think her time on earth is already running out. Cancer has quickly spread all throughout her body. She will be undergoing her chemotherapy but before that happens, I would want to make sure that her body is ready for it. Yet the way I see it now, it cannot stand chemotherapy. 

But I want to hope for a miracle. I've changed my name hoping to be a miracle unto others. I want to at least be a miracle to the light of my life. I still pray for courage and strength. God knows how hard I pray these days.

Now I understood another aspect of being a warrior. The warrior fights for a loved one, she fights even knowing that there is little chance in winning. She fights because she knows the value of what she's fighting for.

______________________

I have pledged to seriously save money and stop traveling for now, just to ensure that I will have the necessary resources to keep the chemotherapy sessions going. I have been on the lookout for sidelines, too, for additional income. I have my own dreams but those can wait. 

An Open Letter to the Light of My Life

It's been a long time since we last had a long chat. These days we seem to try to catch up on each other early in the morning before I leave for work. I would always ask how you are doing even though I know the answer. You would always look at me, your eyes forlorn, your current fragile state breaking my heart to pieces. It's not easy for me to watch you go weak with each passing day; I have been used to seeing you wake up each morning earlier than anybody else, with that load of energy despite your age. I often wondered where you got that strength that allowed you to do numerous tasks without complaint.

Consecutive trips enriched my life, but it also made me poorer in understanding you. One day I was shocked to come back seeing you emaciated, your eyes no longer alert and shining. Words cannot describe how I feel. You seem lifeless, purposeless, friendless. You wouldn't eat, you refuse to listen when we repeatedly tell you to go to the doctor. You, who used to be strong as a bull, cannot even walk properly now.

I fear for what the future holds in store for us. Throughout my life, you were there. You saw me through my darkest, most bitter periods in my life. When blood and kin sought to hurt me, you were my sole comfort. You were the one who taught me early in my life, even with waves of rejection, coldness, cruelty, and all the challenges that come my way, are nothing if I put my faith in God. You sought to understand me, even in my most pitiful egocentric bitter state. Many would claim to know me but it is only you who always defended me from backstabbers, you the only one who testified to my goodness. It was grace. Perhaps we were meant to meet in this lifetime, because your faith in me changed me. I had a taste of grace because of your goodness and to this time it inspires me to be a better, not bitter, person.

This last weekend, I could have continued to do my volunteer work while in Pangasinan. We passed by Manaoag and I changed my mind and decided to stay inside the church to hear mass and to say a little prayer for you. I knownthat you'd be happy to learn that your little girl is back to going down on her knees with pleas to the Heavens, this time not for me but for you. Today after work, I found myself walking towards that church where I got a rosary last year on my birthday, as if my legs had life of their own. So I brought out my rosary and prayed the sorrowful mystery. How apt, when the two of us are in agony, you physically and me emotionally.

I am not prepared for this. But I guess your little girl will have to grow up now. Coming back home, finding you not there to welcome me has given me of a glimpse of a possibility I do not want to consider. Home feels cold, dark, awful without you.

Tears cannot stop flowing now as I write. Please do not leave me alone.

Botero Abu Ghraib

112 pages with 86 color illustrations, published by Prestel (date published not indicated)
essay by David Ebony

Colombian artist Fernando Botero's works first caught my eye when, as a college student, I frequented forums on literature and history. What made his works appealing is his portrayal of men and women as curvaceous, a signature style that is now known as Boterismo. His style reminds me a lot of the Venus figurines, works of art showing round breasts and round bellies. Sure renaissance and baroque art were also replete with plump subjects whose nakedness display curves, but Botero's is much exaggerated because the subjects are rounder in shape and well, just voluminous, in vibrant colors. Definitely eye-catching!

So one day in 2012 while inside Booksale, I happened to see a book about Botero's works portraying the torture of Iraqi prisoners in Abu Ghraib prison when the US invaded Iraq under the pretext of liberating the country from Saddam Hussein's hands. I was hesitant to buy the book because one, the book is expensive at P320 (by a cheapskate's standards), two, I am already having storage problems, and three, anytime I need artistic inspiration I can just search the net anyway. In the end, Ebony's essay won me over since it gives a clear understanding of what Botero's works are all about, as a whole and more so, about the horrors of Abu Ghraib.

In his Abu Ghraib art series, Botero's sketches and paintings depict naked men in cells, blindfolded, in sexual acts with other men, in female underwear, and combinations of these. An insight into this portrayal, Ebony writes:

"Exploiting Islam's ban on homosexual acts, and the perception that for Iraqi men it is humiliating to be naked in front of other men, the soldiers threatened the nude male detainees with rape and forced them to simulate sex acts with each other." (p.9)

Also disturbing are the images of dogs attacking the prisoners. Straightforward and direct to the point, Botero's art certainly is clearly a statement against US policies, a protest against violence, and a "call for humanity in the face of man's inhumanity to man" (as Ebony aptly penned it).

In an interview with the Associated Press, Botero said he was "shocked by the barbarity, especially because the United States is supposed to be this model of compassion" (in Ebony, p. 13).
_______________________
When art goes beyond aesthetics to tackle social problems we face today, it becomes even more relevant as it gives voice to the oppressed, making the world know of their sufferings in the hope that we, as human beings, denounce all forms of violence.

Due to the graphic nature of his works, I am not inserting any image from the Abu Ghraib series in this post.

Laptop Gives up on Me Again

Early this morning, when I turned on my laptop, I was greeted with a window to change my graphics card settings. Curious, I navigated the window and changed a bit of the settings. Then I proceeded to blogging, determined to finish blogging about my first trip to Vietnam. (I was already lagging behind my schedule.)

An hour later, my screen display flickered. I thought it was just my battery about to go empty so I plugged in the adapter. All of a sudden the screen display turned black. Something's wrong so I restarted my laptop and tried to see what's happened, to no avail. The screen kept on flickering and everything would go black. It happened many times during my attempt to log into my systems.

I just bought my machine two months ago during a sale. I should have known that something is not right when an electronic gadget's price is slashed by more than 50%. Now I will have to find a reputable laptop repair shop and have my machine fixed.

In the meantime, I'm using my sister's machine. My blogging activities will lessen dramatically because of this present ordeal. On the other hand, while it is tempting to whine and complain, I am controlling myself not to cry injustice when there are far more people who are burdened with graver problems. I leave everything to luck and fate, as usual. (And I hope I get my machine up and running again.)

Science, Math, and Chaos

Taking up an STS (Science, Technology, and Society) course in college has a profound effect on my life. Not only was I able to learn many new things about science, I learned to appreciate the role of science in our  everyday life. STS let me see that science indeed plays a vital role in addressing the problems the world faces today. In highschool, I used to think of science as the reason why everything got extra complicated in this world. The advent of new technologies contributed to increasing social fragmentation, not to mention destruction of the environment. But the very reason why I shunned science was because I really didn't believe anything I learned in high school- I always thought something was amiss, like all those theories do not really mirror phenomena in reality. So in college, while I considered to take up Mathematics, I decided to pursue foreign languages instead, with my love for literature and etymologies prevailed over mathematical abstractions. (Or perhaps blame it to the fact that I wasn't much informed about possible careers after studying Mathematics in college... It came too late.)

In STS class, which I took three years ago, the students are lucky to listen to lectures by different professionals, from engineers and scientists to historians, forensic experts, and archaeologists. The topics are diverse but the main point is that one cannot escape science as it pervades every aspect of our reality. In particular, I was very much inspired by the lecture given by Amador Muriel. He talked about turbulence and quantum theory, though mostly he just talked about himself which made me view him as an egocentric, self-centered old man who keeps on enumerating his achievements and how he survived in the West although he came from a poor family in a Third World Country. Despite my aversion to all those self-praise talk, I must say that I honestly admire this man for his struggles, how he made it big despite his poor origins. Another is that in enumerating his numerous mentors, one can say that he takes pride in his academic pedigree and as such gives credit to and rightly acknowledges the people who have contributed to who he is now.

Back in college, my friends know me as a spendthrift who only buys books from Booksale and who seldom gets the required readings. But when he announced that his book is now available, I didn't think twice. I just had to have the book. The book isn't that expensive, which is a good thing, and students could get autographs right then and there. I bought his book "Folding Water: The Search for a Quantum Theory of Turbulence" which was co-authored by Ninotchka Rosca. I almost never had the book autographed because of students suddenly flocked to him like moths to a flame. I braved the crowd. He asked me what I am studying and I answered, "European Languages." He wrote a short note on the first page of the book:

"Melo:

              Look up to the

       allusions to

       Europe.

                   A. Muriel"

It was the first time I got a book signed by the author. It instantly became one of my prized books. And when I read it from cover to cover, I was more than sure that never shall this book go out of my collection. It's more detailed compared to the lecture and I wasn't at all surprised that this book is also a memoir in addition to its being a book on quantum mechanics meant for the layperson.

Not long after, I got interested in chaos theory. Reading short articles online increased my appetite for chaos. At that time, I described my life as chaotic. I was a lost kid in a jungle of civilization. Suddenly everything I know crumbles, it feels like being a witness to widescale destruction a la Inception (yes, that movie by Christopher Nolan where scenes of crumbling edifices are many) and I didn't know where to start from.

One day as if by chance, I found a book at Booksale which costs just P75. The title of the book is "Chaos: Making a New Science", authored by James Gleick. I knew I had to buy it. As soon as I got home, I read the book and was enlightened as to why I became averse to science in high school. In high school, we were taught that this happens assuming this is the case. In short, it was highly idealistic. But chaos, as Gleick writes, "poses problems that defy accepted ways of working in science." Moreover, high school science lacked the interdependence of disciplines and thus provided an unrealistic view of phenomena. Physics for example was isolated from biology and chemistry. Each subject was compartmentalized. Chaos on the other hand, brings together different disciplines in an attempt to investigate global nature of systems. When a child, who yearns to make sense of the world around her and who sees the intricate web of relations of things, is made to study a subject without reference to other disciplines, she quickly loses interest. I do not know if this holds true to others but it does to me.

Gleick's book is meant for the layperson. It traces the beginnings of the study of chaotic systems and chaos itself. It narrates the development of such subject as other disciplines like mathematics, physics, chemistry, and biology advanced, or the other way around. Gleick also briefly sketched the important contributors to chaotology (study of chaos), from Lorenz to Mandelbrot, to Feigenbaum and Libchaber, to the scholars of Santa Cruz. I also appreciated how the book attempts to enumerate the many applications and relations of chaotology in other dsiciplines including economics, philosophy, art, and literature.

Reading the book made me wonder what if I took up Mathematics instead of foreign languages. Then maybe I would be very good at working with computers. Then maybe I would be dabbling in chaos. Then maybe I would be able to offer an explanation as to why my life is chaotic.

Mind over Heart

I have always followed my heart. And it made me a cynic.

There is a reality that is fantasy. And there is a fantasy that is reality.

There is also "the calling". If you listen carefully, that is. But it is shrouded by mists of uncertainty and clouds of doubts. Only the brave and the courageous dare create a new path where angels fear to tread.

And an angel I am not.

Or so I thought.

A fallen angel though.

And they say I live in fantasy. I say it is my reality.

Until now.

The sage is mistaken.
The prophet is ignored.
The warrior is fallen.
The archer is troubled.
And the arrows of fire released from a once mighty bow miss their mark.

Photo Credit: sushreepanda.blogspot.com

"Things fall apart, the center cannot hold" (To quote Yeats)

Only pure nothingness swirling and churning and swallowing
everything---
hopes, dreams, fears, ambitions, pride, envy

When the heart cannot feel anything anymore, the mind
takes over.

Unanswered Questions... and then Some More

Back when I was a kid, a lot of questions popped inside my head the answers off which I thought I would be able to come across as I expose myself to more literature. Those questions troubled me deeply as a child, I felt I could not be at peace if I couldn't find the answers to them. Now that I have finished my post-graduate studies in Archaeology (though really, I need to immerse myself more in the discipline), I am disappointed to find that there really is no way of finding answers to those questions that baffled my childhood and adolescent years.

Looking back, I wonder how I could come up with the idea of origins. I would always wonder what life was before the present. Way way back in time. I think it must have sprung from my love for reading historical fiction where I am introduced to a time when girls wore long dresses, swords were THE weapon, and theatrical performances and folksy songs were THE entertainment. That question led me to ask many other questions, for instance, why do we need a government? How can man stomach the idea of being governed? (I obviously have been an anarchist ever since my childhood days.) Why are there rich and poor men? (I didn't buy the idea that some men are poor because they do not work hard, because as I have seen throughout the years, those men who work hard the most are those who are poor.) If nations do not agree with something, who do we turn to as authority? Is it possible to have a WORLD GOVERNMENT while respecting each individual culture as unique?

I have read so many books, though most of them fall under fiction since that is my sole escape from this mad mad world of trivialities and superficiality. As I read through each narrative and get inside the psyche of some of the characters, I begin to understand more about human nature. Why does man covet power? Why does man want to be put on a pedestal and be worshiped by his fellow men? Why does man seek after that which is not permanent? Why do man bother with so many things and cannot seem to like living simply and peacefully?

When you come to the point of not understanding why people behave the way they do because you have seen the vicissitudes of life and everything seems to be nothing in this tragic life of all humankind, you get depressed and disillusioned which then causes you to be on a seemingly perennial stump. Mankind has not learned from history. Mankind has not heeded the calls of a past which were marred with so much misery and tainted with too much blood. Mankind has ceased to converse with nature as in the olden days when shamans and priestesses conduct rituals and spend days on meditation as they listen to the voice of in the wilderness.

Having all these questions swirling inside your head makes you sick in the stomach, as you cannot fathom anymore the excesses and vices of the present. You cannot be at peace thinking why on earth you have been born in this kind of world where common sense, said to be common, is not so common at all? And because you cannot accept the fact that you ARE part of this society, that you part of the NOW, you feel like you are forever in bondage to the follies of man. It is that or you pack up your things, leave this world of nonsense, and live a solitary but simple life somewhere in the mountains.

Problema sa Ulan

Kanina pagkalabas sa trabaho ay kapansin-pansin ang makulimlim na langit. Hindi ko masyadong binigyang-pansin subalit nakisakay ang mood ko sa lagay ng panahon at napaisip na naman muli ng mga bagay-bagay na dapat ay isinasaisantabi na. Naisip ko ang maraming estudyanteng dumaan sa akin na siguradong mamimiss ko. Naisip ko ang dalawang buwan na paghuhukay at iniisip ko kung kakayanin ko ba dahil pagbalik ko ay siguradong balik na naman ako sa paghahanap ng trabaho. Kung sakali mang wala, nariyan naman ang aking pribadong aklatan para tulungan akong magpalipas ng oras. Nariyan din ang isang katerbak na DVDs na hindi ko pa napapanood. 

Pagbaba ng bus ay agad na sumakay ako ng jeep. Tamang tama lang na pagkaupo ko ay biglang bumuhos ang malakas na ulan. Bago pa ito ay umaambon-ambon na. Medyo kakaiba ang pagbagsak ng ulan kanina. Naka-slant ang pagbagsak ng mga 50 degrees mula sa lupa. Minsan lang ako makakita ng ganito.

At wala pang sampung minuto ay nakita ko na ang paligid na puno ng tubig-ulan na may tangay na mga basura. Muli ay napaisip ako kung bakit ganito ang mga tao, walang pakialam sa kapaligiran, kung saan saan nagtatapon ng mga basura. Kahit na ilang beses na tayong nabiktima ng bagyo ay wala pa rin tayong kadala-dala. Laganap pa rin ang kawalan ng disiplina. Bukod pa rito, mukhang obsessed tayo sa paggawa ng sementadong mga kalsada. Naisip ko tuloy, kaya siguro gustong gusto ng mga nasa katungkulan ang pagpapagawa ng mga daan ay para magkaroon ng oportunidad para mangurakot. Tiyak ay malaki ang nakukuha nila sa mga obras publicas. Ang masama lang, ni wala nang tagasipsip ng tubig ulan. Barado ang mga canal dahil sa mga basura at ang lupa ay puro sinementuhan. Malamang magbabaha talaga kahit na sandalian lang ang ulan.

Nang tumawid ako sa overpass ay napaisip muli ako sa isang problema sa mga overpass. Wala man lang kahit maliliit na butas para ma-drain ang tubig-ulan. Baha tuloy sa itaas. Bakit kaya ganun? Parang hindi pinag-iisipan ang mga bagay-bagay bago gawin? Nakakainis na talaga.

Gustong gusto ko talaga kapag umuulan. Ang malamig na hangin ay nakatutulong maagtanggal ng stress lalo na't naghahabol ako ng requirement. Ang amoy ng hangin, na singaw ng lupa, ay isang kakaibang amoy na minahal ko rin. Gusto ko ang amoy lupa na hangin sa tuwing umuulan. Pero kapag nakikita ko ang kapabayaan ng mga tao na lumalabas lamang kapag may ulan, naiinis ako. Minsan ay iniisip kong, kung umulan kaya nang grabe at bahain ang buong Metro Manila? Magtatanda na kaya ang mga tao?