Thursday, March 31, 2005

What You Get

by Kristin Youmans


"This child has autism." That's what she said. "This child." My child.
My two-year-old little boy with blue eyes so bright they look like they
have backlighting. "Has autism." Like he'd caught a cold, and not a
life sentence. My brain went hollow, all thoughts and questions and hope,
silent - stunned. She expected me to break down and cry. She held her
breath and waited to see what I would do. Her glasses reflected the
fluorescent lighting and I couldn't see her eyes, only the two reflected
orbs of white neon staring back at me. The word echoed through the room
of the "evaluation" office that was filled with children's toys my son
was wandering through but apparently not playing with in the correct
way, according to their scales. My son's pediatrician had recommended that
I take my son to be evaluated because he wasn't picking up language at
the rate most kids do by age two.

I didn't know what to do. So I pretended that I hadn't just had my soul
pulled out and murdered and decided to remain as calm as possible.
Maybe I was just misunderstanding her, "Okay, autism. When I think of
autism I think of Rain-Man. That's not my son."

She and the other "specialist" (though neither of them were doctors)
began pelting me with descriptions of what autism is. It felt like having
darts repeatedly thrown at my body from all directions:
"Inability to understand emotion."

"…not interested in our world - autistic people live on their own
planes."

"They don't pick up language - that's usually the first sign."
That night in bed I tried to watch TV to keep my mind empty. It wasn't
working. I got up and poured a big glass of wine. I sat in front of the
television and still the word "autism" kept repeating louder and louder
in my ear. I didn't know what to do with that word. I couldn't fix this
with a pill or an ice pack. I couldn't even hope to change it. My baby
was hurting in the most profound way possible and I had no way to make
him better. I knew that much.



When I was a little girl, about four, I would play hotel manager. Not
house - not wife or mother, but hotel manager. I had a play cash
register and I would take the guests money and assign them to their room and
play all kinds of scenarios in my head about which guest would end up in
bed with which other guest. I don't think I knew what they would do
once in bed, but I figured it had to be something good. Once everyone was
checked in I transformed from front desk girl to a guest. I was always
a beautiful foreign woman (French probably) who had a lot of money. I
probably always wore big turquoise earrings. I was fabulous.



Autism. Autism. Autism. I read and read and read. I spent weeks reading
every book available that said anything about autism. I wanted to know
everything there was to know about it. I wasn't searching to learn
about my son's problem, I was searching for a way out of it. I was looking
for things about autism that my son didn't have. I watched him
constantly. I was perched on the edge of a cliff that always ended in the
hopeless cave of autism. He would pace and I would say, "Oh, that's it.
She's right. He's autistic." And I would fall off the cliff.

I felt compelled to tell everyone that I met that my son didn't talk
yet. I never mentioned the autism though. I never wanted that look of
pity or that awkward silence where they wouldn't know what to say to me.
Everyone I talked to had a nephew, or a cousin, or someone they knew who
didn't talk until they were three or four. This was comforting. But
there were things beyond the lack of vocabulary that twisted my gut.

Once a woman said to me, "Just trust your gut. It's always right." I
knew that. I just didn't want to admit that my gut was telling me
something I didn't want to hear. He doesn't talk. He doesn't say mommy, daddy,
or anything really. He speaks in a language all his own. He rarely
makes eye contact, and he's generally unaware of his surroundings - he's
wrapped up in his own mind. When strangers attempt to talk to him in
public, he doesn't notice. They always look to me, and I don't look back at
them. I don't feel like explaining.



When I was about 8, in a video store with my parents I wandered away
and found a movie called "Angel". It was about a beautiful woman who was
a hooker by night, and something else by day that I don't remember - a
cop maybe. It was the hooker part that stuck out to me. I figured that
that being a hooker wouldn't be all that bad of a job. You could have
sex, which everyone seemed to really like, and you could get paid for
it. What's wrong with that? Though I also thought being a nun had its
bonuses too, nobody messes with nuns - they can do whatever they want and
people won't question them. I was into watching "The Flying Nun" reruns
at the time obviously. I figured that could be my day job - nun by day,
hooker by night. It was the best of both worlds really. I had high
aspirations.



The speech therapist was at my house. This was the same woman who told
me that he "had" autism. She was holding him down in her lap and trying
to force his hands to do the - put the ring on the stick - game she'd
brought with her (how this helps autism is still a mystery to me). He
was screaming so loudly that he'd reached the point where there was no
sound. His body was arched - one big muscle, fighting to get away from
her with every ounce of his being.

Every nerve in my body was standing at attention. My adrenaline reached
a point I felt I could black out. She was repeating in a sort of crazed
voice, "Put the ring on the stick Jeffrey." He fought and fought. I
stopped it. I stood up, pulled him out of her arms and walked him upstairs
to his bedroom. He lay on his bed and cried, calming down.

I walked down the stairs. She began to stammer about something else
that he needed, or that I needed to be doing. I told her she needed to
leave my house. I didn't say any more than that. Whatever else she said I
ignored. The blood flowing in my head was louder than her voice. She
left. I slid down the back of the door and sat. I couldn't move, couldn't
think, and couldn't breathe. I was failing him.



When I was ten I thought my uncle Rob knew the secrets of the universe
because he would take me hunting for fossils. We would hike through the
foothills of the mountains and at certain points, low points, he would
stop and we would start digging. We found rocks on which you could
clearly make out ghosts of seashell formations on their surfaces - in the
middle of the desert. He would tell me the history of the land and how
it all used to be an ocean. He's a geologist.

That Christmas Eve my whole family was together. My cousins were
whining about wanting to open presents. I sat quietly, trying to seem mature
- above wanting silly things like presents.

When the adults gave in and the rest of the kids (all boys - I'm the
only girl) were tearing into their gifts like a pack of dogs on a fresh
kill, my uncle handed me a present and smiled. I looked up at him, and
tried not to act too excited (I had a reputation to think about).

I opened it - a book on Astronomy. He knew I loved the stars and had
decided that when I grew up I wanted to be an astronomer. My parents
laughed at me and said things like, "okay, this week an astronomer, and
next week it will be a lawyer or veterinarian again."

His gift meant that he took me seriously. I read the book cover to
cover. I spent nights in my backyard lying on the diving board, staring up
into the stars, learning everything I could - dreaming about being an
astronomer - but mostly about being "grown up."



I stood up and looked out the peephole to make sure the speech
therapist was gone. I half expected to see her staring back at me through the
peephole with a crazed look in her eyes, like something out of a horror
movie. But her car was gone. I walked across the hallway to the
staircase and felt the room dim and brighten, as the blood surged through my
brain. It was like all of my emotions were trying to squeeze through my
heart in that moment. All of my worry, all of my pain, all of my self-
blame and frustration had reached the peak. I was doing everything
"they" told me to. I was following all of the rules and it wasn't working.
It was making things worse. Any light at the end of the tunnel turned
out to be a mirage.

I walked up the stairs and opened the door to Jeffrey's bedroom. He was
lying in the same spot I left him in crying moments before, asleep. He
was exhausted. My heart stopped and felt the squeeze that I always get
when I look at him. He is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.



I was lying in bed next to my husband three years after we were married
- officially grown up - I had a husband, a job, a mortgage and dogs - I
was fully cooked. He was snoring so loudly that I couldn't sleep.
Something felt like it was pulling on the back of my spine - a thought that
refused to exit my brain, so it traveled it's way down my back and made
camp, unwilling to give up.

I couldn't ignore it anymore. I got up and dug the pregnancy test out
from underneath the sink. We'd decided to start trying to get pregnant
maybe two weeks before. I wasn't even late. But I knew, so I sat and
aimed at the stick - following all of the directions.

Waiting. It says to wait three minutes. Yeah right. I stared at it the
whole time, watching to see what it would do. Two lines equals
pregnant. One line not. The first line appeared quickly. Then, just as quickly
a second line appeared. I checked the directions again. Yes, clearly it
said two lines pregnant one line not. I had two very clear lines. I
waited the three minutes to see if the second line would disappear, change
its mind. It didn't. The overhead light felt like a strobe, blinking on
and off with the blood rushing through my brain.

Dizzy. I walked back into the bedroom, looked at my husband snoring
happily. Why is it that men can fall asleep so easily and then sleep
uninterrupted?

I couldn't wake him up - too anticlimactic. I decided to plan a
creative way of telling him -something good I would figure out later, I knew
he was going to be ecstatic. I got into bed. My heart was beating so
hard my head felt like it was bouncing up and down on the pillow. I was
happy. But then, after I thought about it for a minute I was horrified.
Me - a mother? I couldn't even keep my own bedroom clean, how was I
going to be responsible for a life besides my own? What was I thinking? I
needed to quit smoking - right then. I needed to be someone else
completely. My life was over as I knew it. MY life was no more, now I was two.
I didn't know if I could handle it. For the first time in my life I was
actually truly terrified. I lay silent, unable to sleep as I stared at
the ceiling.

At some point my body gave in and I slept - at least for a few minutes.
In that time I dreamt that I was at a huge dinner - with my entire
family even my grandma who'd died my freshman year of high school. We were
seated at tables covered in white tablecloths and at some point during
the dinner I looked under my table and found a blue eyed little baby
boy smiling up at me from a carriage. I decided that I would pretend he
was mine so I could keep him.



Tears fell as I watched him sleep, unaware of the turmoil already
surrounding his short life. I heard the door open and the dogs start their
happy dance for my husband getting home. I walked down the stairs,
avoided looking at him - I couldn't talk without screaming. I grabbed my
keys and passed him in the hallway his voice trailing behind me, "What's
wrong?"

I got in my car and tore out of the neighborhood - past all of the
perfect cookie cutter homes with competing perfectly manicured lawns - past
the jogging trail with the perfect families holding hands and pushing
strollers after dinner. I thought about driving up on the sidewalk and
slaughtering them, but decided that would be a bad idea. I just wanted
to inflict as much pain as I felt.

I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be married, or have kids
- how did I get here? How did I let this happen? The neighborhood faded
into woods, and I just kept going, without any clue where I was going.
I drove as fast as the curves in the road would allow. I wanted to
drive so fast that I could burst the bubble of my life - somehow stop the
walls from closing in.

I was getting lost, on purpose. My phone rang. I looked down at the
number - home. I threw the phone to the floor, wanting to break the tether
that dragged me back. I looked up and saw a tree in the headlights. I
slammed on the brakes, pulled the wheel to the left and fishtailed, into
the trees, the car skidded and I heard wood cracking as the car left
pavement and crashed into the forest - somehow managing not to hit
anything except underbrush.

I sat - stunned, silent, embarrassed even though I was alone. I'd lost
control - of everything.
I wept until it hurt to breathe. The phone kept ringing. I finally
picked up.
"What?"
"Where are you?"
"Nowhere"
"What happened?
"He's not okay and there's nothing I can do about it."
"He's fine."
"No, he's not."
"He's going to be fine."
"How do you know?"
"I just do."
"No, you just hope."
"Well…."
"Well, what?"
"Well - whatever he is - or isn't - it doesn't matter. We're not going
to love him any less."



I was lying in Jeffrey's bed a couple of months before his third
birthday, having just read him his bedtime story. I stared off into space, as
he looked through the book again - quietly - both of us sunk inside
ourselves. I was thinking about the bath I planned on taking as soon as he
was asleep. Who knows what he was thinking - Elmo and Big Bird dreams.
We always do this - I read him his story, usually at least twice, (he
indicates he wants it read again by turning back to the first page and
putting my hand on the words) and then I lay and hold him for a few
minutes, more for me than him, and then I say goodnight.

"Okay baby, I'm gonna' go. You sleep good and I'll see you in the
morning." I always say that, and then I lean over and give him a kiss on the
cheek, which he takes quietly with no response. Then I get up, turn out
the light, and close the door behind me saying, "I love you."

But that night things went differently. I was leaning down saying "You
sleep good" reaching for the kiss, then as I pulled away I felt his
hands reach up and grab my cheeks. He pulled me towards him - for a second
I had no idea what was going on. It happened so quickly I didn't have
time to think. He just pulled me by my cheeks down towards him, kissed
me on the lips. Actually he put his lips to mine, pulled away and then
smacked his lips and said, "omma" (close enough).

I almost passed out. He still held me by my cheeks and stared into my
eyes smiling - giggling a little - waiting for my reaction. He'd never
called me momma before, or kissed me back, and then suddenly for some
reason he chose that night to do both.

I started laughing. I choked on my tears and laughter all spilling out
at once. We laughed together, staring into each other's eyes. The fog
had lifted for a moment, long enough for us to connect and understand
through our eye contact and our laughter - everything.

i love u din.

tama ka. tanga talaga ako. hindi mo nga kakayanin kung naging ikaw ako. martir nga kung sa martir. pero hindi ko alam kung paano ko pa ie-explain sa yo kung bakit hindi madali ang makipaghiwalay sa asawa.

maraming mga beses na gusto ko ng sumuko.



simula pa lamang ng kwento... nabuntis ang ina noong nasa kolehiyo pa, pero tinapos pa rin ang pagaaral, kahit pano nga, may karangalan pa ring natanggap ng ito ay nagtapos. kinasal sila ng lalake. naging masaya nung una. excited pa kasi sa magiging unang anak.

nagsimula ang kalbaryo ng malaman ng ina ang sanga-sangang kalokohan at pandarayang ginagawa ng asawa. babae, inom... babae, inom... habang nanganganak ang babae, may kinakalantaring iba.

hindi na ito natigil... maraming beses na ring naulit... maraming beses na naghiwalay ang mag-asawa.... nagkakabalikan, dahil nagpupumilit ang lalake... hindi tinatantanan ang asawa. at sa bawat pagbabati, kasunod ay isang munting anghel... sa bawat pagkakataon na humiling ang babae ng sign sa Panginoon... kapag siya ay nabuntis ulit, ibig sabihin ay magbabago na ang lalake. at tuwing nagdarasal ng ganon, binibiyayaan ng isang napakagandang nilalang.

humantong na rin sa sakitan... natapos ang gabi na may pasa sa noo at may mga bukol ang ina... kung inaakala ninyo na sa pelikula lang nangyayari ang makakita ng estrelya kapag ikaw ang nasasampal, nagkakamali kayo. kung inaakala ninyo na sa pelikula lang nangyayari ang mabigwasan ang isang babae dahil hinihingi ng lalake ang PIN number ng kanyang celfone, nagkakamali kayo.

ngunit, gustuhin ko mang punuin ang espasyong ito ng mga pagkakamali ng ama, magkukulang ang isang araw... at hindi ko sinasabing wala probokasyon ang lahat ng nangyari. ang katagang "it takes two to tango" ay magandang ihalintulad sa istoryang ito.

lahat ng bagay, sa paniniwala ko ay hindi lamang kasalanan ng isang tao. sigurado, marami ring pagkukulang ang babae. marami ring hindi nagampanan bilang asawa at ina.

hindi na naging magkasama ang mag-asawa sa iisang bubong. maraming mga nangyari na hindi na kayang bigyan pa ng lunas. nakatira ang babae sa kanyang magulang, iniwan ang lalake sa dati nilang inuupahang tahanan.

sa puntong ito, naging parang mag-syota ang mag-asawa. kanya-kanyang lugar. kanya-kanyang uwi. pero iisang buhay. nagaaway madalas dahil sa kakulangan ng isa't-isa.



nung makalawa lang nag-away na naman ang mag-asawa. marami na namang mga bagay na nasambit. nagkasumbatan na naman. hindi na dapat ilagay pa rito ang dahilan... hindi na kailangang ilagay pa rito ang lahat dahil panigurado, sasabihin mo na naman, napakatanga ng babae... sasabihin mo na naman ang mga bagay na alam na niya.

sinusulat na ng ina ang mga puntos na sinasabi ng asawa niya.. "si bochog, sigurado ako, sayo yan... sigurado kahit papiliin ko yan, ayaw niya sa kin. buhayin mong mag-isa. tutal mayabang ka."

tapos, biglang magiiba ang ihip ng hangin... bigla niyang itatanong, pano kung gustong pumunta sa kanya ni bochog. nagalit siya ng sinabi ng ina na hindi siya papayag. bigla niya na tuloy iniba ang sinabi. biglang sabi niya, hindi pala niya kayang tiisin si bochog, kaya hati na lang daw sila sa bata, na para bang tinapay lang ang pinaguusapan at hindi buhay ng isang inosenteng kasalukuyang natutulog.

tinanong na ng ina ang ama..."marami kang reklamo sa akin, kesyo masama ang ugali ko, kesyo minumura kita, kesyo puro ako yabang wala naman akong narating, kesyo magaling lang ako dahil sa tulong ng mga magulang ko... eh kung ganun, bakit ayaw mo pa akong pakawalan? bakit ayaw mo pa akong hiwalayan ng tuluyan? I'm giving you the easy way out. Why don't you take it?"

"kasi nga mahal kita!" sumigaw na ang ama.

sa puntong yun, nagising sa pagkakahimlay ang bata... narinig ang mga sigawan... ang mga batuhan ng masasakit na paratang... hindi na nagawang sabihin sa ama na hindi siya naniniwala sa kalokohang mahal pa siya nito. imposible. hindi ganun ang nagmamahal. nagalit ang ina... ang sabi ng ina kay bochog, tigilan niya ang pag-iyak pagkat hindi katapusan ng mundo ang mawalan ng ama.

pero umiyak pa rin ito, lumakas pa nga. napilitan ang ina na sabihin sa ama niya na tutal damdamin lang naman ng mga bata ang inaalala niya, wala naman siyang pakialam sa nararamdaman ng asawa niya, kung gusto niya, kung akala niyang kaya niya, kunin na niyang lahat ang mga anak. tutal alam ng ina... aminado siya na hindi niya kakayaning bigyan sila ng magandang buhay...

habang sinasabi niya ito, hindi na niya napigilan ang lumuha... masakit sabihin ang mga katagang iyon... para siyang hinubaran ng ulirat... parang unti-unting pinatay ang kanyang kaluluwa...

sabay, umiyak ng walang gatol ang bata... hinagod niya ang likod at pinalitan ng damit dahil basang basa na ito ng pawis, sipon, at luha.

nagbuntong-hininga ang ama, at tinanong si bochog kung ano ang gusto niya para sa kinabukasang pagpaparangal sa kanila sa eskwela, gayong natapos niya ang ikatlong baitang na pangalawa sa klase.

"gusto mo bang kumain sa labas, o maghanda tayo?"

hindi man lamang nag-isip ang bata ng sumagot: "ang gusto ko, itigil niyo na yan.... ang gusto ko, wag na kayong mag-away... ang gusto ko, wag kayong maghiwalay!"

humagulgol ang ina. hindi na kinaya. niyakap ng buong higpit ang bata. ang ama naman, sinabing hindi sila nagaaway, na hindi sila maghihiwalay. umalis na lamang ang ama, pumunta sa dating tirahan kasama ang isa pang anak. bago yun eh humalik kay bochog at sa asawa.

pag-alis ng ama, sinabi ni bochog sa ina ito: "ang gusto ko lang naman Mommy, na maging masaya tayo, kumpleto tayo gaya ng iba."

hindi na pinwersa sa bata ang issue ng paghihiwalay. sinabi na lang sa kanya ang totoo.

"ayoko na talaga, noon pa. sana maintindihan mo kung bakit. alam ko, alam mo lahat yun. sana rin malaman mo na lahat ng ginagawa ko, lahat ng sakripisyo na tiniis ko, eh para lang sa yo lahat. hindi kay Letku, hindi kay Kuya... ikaw lang ang dahilan ko. para sayo lang lahat. ilang beses ng nangyari to, pero hindi natutuloy, dahil ayaw mo. at dahil mahal ko kayong magkakapatid. kung saan kayo masaya, dun ako... kahit ang ibig pang sabihin non ay habangbuhay na sakit, pagkalungkot at pagkayamot."

tumahimik ang bata.

"i love you, Mommy."

ito ang huling sinambit ng anak sa kanyang ina, bago ito tuluyang nakatulog sa pagod.

Monday, March 28, 2005

if you ever think that death is your only salvation...

i read a blog of a friend today, who said that her only salvation was death. I commented to it and thought that my comment should take a space in my own blog.



ganon? matalino ka ah. walang ganyanan. kung ako sau, kung may ipapapatay man ako, yun yung taong rason kung bakit ako malungkot at yung taong dahilan kung bakit ginugusto kong makitilan ng buhay. hindi ikaw un. u'r just making ur life miserable, because u chose to be.

it's the way you see things. Do not get me wrong. I've tried suicide i think three times. but try as i might, i'm still alive. which made me think over my decisions.

like i always say: everything that comes in your life has a purpose/reason. the problem is, what is it, and how do we take it to our advantage?

if time comes to ur life that u think that death is ur only salvation, think of me.

i'm married to an asshole who doesn't give me the love and support that every woman deserves. He was physically hurting me since we were married, and he just stopped when one time he hurt me so bad it could've killed me.
i am trying my best to find some good in him so we can save our marriage.
i am raising my three kids on my own, with limited financial support from the asshole.
i cannot resign from my current job to work as a teacher which only offers me 3/4 of my earnings here, since if i decide to, I'd be broker than i'd ever be.
my parents are my only help in everything, and now they are migrating to the US, leaving me alone to wallow in uncertainty.
i am, i think, 150T in debt.
my son, although bright, is autistic, and he has seizure disorder. His future is not certain. Will he be able to work, marry, have kids, even finish highschool? And now, he's getting worse. Kung dati, hindi halata, ngayon, makikita mo na that there is something wrong with this kid. And every freakin day of my life, i look at him and control myself from crying because of these facts.

these are some things that I am sure you are not experiencing. At least you still have a way out. Unlike me, who sees a way out but won't take it.

it's ur choice: kill urself, or be happy that you are not me.

i love you. Stop being like that. U make me feel a lesser person than I already am without u even knowing it. Kaya natin lahat ng problema. Be thankful na babae tayo. Kung naging lalake tayo, i think kawawa tayo.

Andito lang ako.

Me

I am not the person who is singing
I am the silent one inside
I am not the one who laughs at people's jokes, I just pacify their egos
I am not my house, my car, my songs
They are only just stops along my way
I am like the winter
I'm a dark cold female
With a golden ring of wisdom in my cave

And it is me who is my enemy
Me who beats me up
Me who makes the monsters
Me who strips my confidence


I am carrying my voice
I am carrying my heart
I am carrying my rhythmn
I am carrying my prayers
But you can't kill my spirit
It's soaring and it's strong
Like a mountain
I'll go on and on
But when my wings are folded
The brightly colored moth
Blends into the dirt into the ground


And it's me who's too weak
And it's me who's too shy
To ask for the thing i love
And it's me who's too weak
And it's me who's too shy
To ask for the thing i love
That I love

I am walking on the bridge
I am over the water
And I'm scared as hell
But I know there's something better
Yes I know there's something
Yes I know, i know, yes i know

That I love
But it's me
And it's me
But it's me

Saturday, March 26, 2005

ang drama ko.

maraming tao na ang nanakit sa kin. maraming nilalang na pinaglaruan ang aking damdamin. maraming mga araw na akala ko katapusan na ng mundo. maraming gabi na umiiyak ako. maraming sandali na iniisip ko na hindi ko na kaya.

at merong mga sandaling makikita mo ito (shudder) sa mga panahong nagiisip ka ng sumuko:



at iyong matatanto--ang Diyos ay nasa paligid lamang, huwag mong kalimutan.

wala akong karapatan

marami ng nangyari. marami ng nasabi. marami ng kumalat. kahapon ko lang napagtanto--

wala akong karapatang magsabi kung ano ang tama at mali.
wala akong karapatang manlait ng tao.
wala akong karapatang manira ng puri ng iba.
wala akong karapatang pagpiyestahan ang buhay ng ibang tao.
wala akong karapatang magpayo sa mga taong bingi.
wala akong karapatang ipamukha sa tao na mali ang ginagawa nila.
wala akong karapatang sabihin na mali siya, dahil hindi lang siya ang nagkamali.
wala akong karapatang sabihin na tanga siya, dahil mas naunang naging tanga yung iba.
wala akong karapatang sabihin na malandi siya, dahil alam kong mas may malandi pa sa kanya.
wala akong karapatang magsabi na wala siyang delikadesa, dahil hindi siya nagiisa.
wala akong karapatang manghusga, dahil kailanman hindi naging kasalanan ang umibig.
wala akong karapatang magbato ng bato, dahil hindi ako santo.
wala akong karapatang manhimasok, dahil hindi ako apektado.

ang tanong, kanino ako kumakampi?

wala.

naiintindihan ko ang bawat taong apektado sa problemang ito. lahat may mali. oo, lahat may mali. hindi lang siya, yung nauna rin. una pa lang mali na. pero hindi ko na kailangang ipamukha sa kanya ang katotohanang noon pa man ay alam niya na. sabi nga, i don't need to rub it in.

hindi ko kailangang ulit-ulitin pa... WALA AKONG KARAPATAN.

ito lang ang masasabi ko sa mga usapang umaaligid. natuto na po ako.

hindi na ko magsasalita tungkol dito dahil sa mga rason na naipahayag ko na. kaya, pakiusap, wag na kayong lumapit sa akin para magtanong kung ano'ng alam ko. wag niyo ng isipin na puno ako ng kwento na gusto kong ibahagi sa inyo. tama na. hindi ako ang tamang tao na pagtanungan nito.

may sari-sarili silang karapatan na gusto nilang ibahagi din sa lahat ng tao. may sari-sarili silang mga taong gusto lang nilang pakinggan at kunan ng pananaw. at hindi ako kasama sa listahan na yun.

ang alam ko lang na karapatan ko ay ang manahimik.

Friday, March 25, 2005

i'm plain nuts.

kahit gusto kong ilagay dito ang mga nagpapasakit ng puso ko, hindi ko kaya.
may mga bagay at mga sandali akong naaalala.
masakit pa pala.

masakit magmahal kapag one-way.

masakit ang maiwan sa ere at hindi malaman kung bakit.

tangina, masakit.

sana, maisip mo na nakakasakit ka hanggang ngayon na kahit hindi mo alam.
sana, naramdaman mo na minahal kita at mamahalin hanggat ako'y humihinga pa.
sana, makita mo kung nasan ang daan.
sana, wag kang mahuli ng pulis dahil nag-right turn ka sa no-right-turn.
sana, hindi ka mabangga kapag mabilis kang magpatakbo ng kotse.

sana, maging masaya ka.


I'm dressed all in blue
And I'm remembering you
And the shirt you wore
When you broke my heart
I'm depressed upstairs
And I'm remembering where
And when, and how, and why
You have to go so far
Am I gonna be lonely for the rest of my life
Am I gonna be lonely for the rest of my life
I'm gonna be lonely for the rest of my life
Unless you come around
So come around
I'm dressed all in white
And I remember the night
You came on to me
And opened up my heart
I was hollow then
'Til you filled me in
Now I'm empty again
I should have never let it start
Am I gonna be lonely for the rest of my life
Am I gonna be lonely for the rest of my life
I'm gonna be lonely for the rest of my life
Unless you come around
So come around
No one else can fix me
Although sometimes my heart tricks me
Into thinking someone else will do
But you're the only one
You are the only one
Am I gonna be lonely for the rest of my life
Am I gonna be lonely for the rest of my life
I'm gonna be lonely for the rest of my life
Unless you come around
So come around
So come around
So come around
I'm dressed all in blue
And I'm remembering you
And the shirt you wore
When you broke my heart...

Monday, March 21, 2005

Pren

bago ako umalis papuntang ospital, naisip ko lang na mag-post sandali. naisip ko kasi kanina na para akong biglang hinarapan ni Boy Abunda ng salamin at saka ako ay inurirat.

"sino ba sa mga kaibigan mo ang matatawag mong matalik mong kaibigan?"

napakamot ako ng ulo at walang kaabog-abog kong sinabi na... "si Weng, sino pa ba?"

Pero bigla akong natigilan... napaisip ng malawak at napabuntung-hininga ng malalim. Kung ililista ko siguro ang lahat ng mga kaibigan ko sa isang papel na merong mga checkbox sa gilid, pde ko silang isa-isang piliin.

Weng -- check

Given na si Weng. Simula pa kolehiyo, bespren ko na yun eh.

Pero meron pang iba. Sure ako meron pa. Kasi hindi lang naman si Weng ang nakakasama ko eh. Hm... Halimbawa...

Jeng (kaklase ko sa PNU) -- check
Noel (kaklase ko sa PNU) -- check
Gil (kaklase ko sa PNU) -- check
Archie (katulong namin) -- check
Ces (officemate) -- check

Hm... marami pang iba... hindi ko lang maikategorya kung talagang panghabang-buhay eh, kaibigan pa rin nila ako.

Pero... simula nung isang buwan... naramdaman ko ang kakaibang saya... dumarating ang linggo na namimiss ko ang opisina... hinahanap ko ang tawa niya at ang mga sinasabi niya...

Marahil dahil kami ay parehong lokaret... o marahil kaya niya akong patawanin buong araw... hindi ko alam kung bakit... ngayon ko narealize na di lang pala si Weng ang bespren ko... meron pa palang iba... hindi pala nagiisa ang bespren sa buhay ng isang tao....

narealize ko na meron pa akong isang kaibigan sa tabi ko... na alam kong lagi akong sasamahan sa hirap at ginhawa...

na napatunayan ko, na hindi ko pala siya maipagpapalit sa kahit sinomang naging kaibigan ko rito, kahit sino pa man ang dumating. kahit inakala ko na merong pdeng madagdag sa listahan ko ng mga besprens... narealize ko na kahit magdagdag ako, kundi rin naman ako idadagdag sa kanyang listahan, wala rin.

at least, alam kong kaibigan ako nito, kahit ginawa na niyang pastime ang pagpuna sa kasuotan ko o ang hindi ko pagaayos ng sarili. kahit na minsan alam ko naaasar na siya sa kin sa mga kataklesahan ko at mga kalokohan na naaapektuhan siya.

alam kong kahit anong mangyari, nasa listahan niya ko, dahil mahal niya ko.

Mai -- check

salamat, pren. aylabshu.



p.s.
meron akong mga taong hindi ginawang halimbawa, alam ko. sana wag magtampo.
Scarface, hindi kasama rito ang mga kadugo. given na din na ikaw ay bespren ko by default.