Breakpoint

"I'm at a place I've never been and I'm stu-stu-stuttering..."

The song plays in an unending vortex tingling my tympanic membranes. I'm at a nook, not in a way similar as the song suggests, but just as unfamiliar. I've been into places where I assumed the role of a warrior. I couldn't count the times where I emerged victorious from every war against my inner demons but not in this one.

A year and a half had passed and here we are re-evaluating circumstances. I am afraid that the foundations I have been holding on to are inch by inch corroding. Was I blindsided?

Like a fish out of water, the commitment I have been working my ass off to salvage is turning its back on me. It’s craving for air. It can hardly breathe. I really do not understand why a phase as such would ever try to rain on my parade.

In retrospection, couple of events swiftly crossed the bridge. Like a movie in fast forward, details which we thought didn’t matter were missed. The flower I took is gradually wilting and the beauty I am trying to preserve seems not to listen. The fairytale suddenly had an anathema towards its creator.

Out of nowhere, he just suddenly went  cold. I am trying to understand. He asked for space.

I felt like the child robbed off of his favorite toy. But to put things like that is an understatement. I was helpless at that time. I couldn’t bear the thought of the space which seemed to exponentially grow. My wonderland is starting to morph into a nook filled with noxious air.

The thoughts of suicide went past me. Immeasurable pain keeps on poking my heart. I stare at the laptop, stabbing the keys while thoughts continue to flood me. I am afraid that tears may fall, for reasons and circumstances that I may soon lose control.

It is difficult to sort things and even recognize my individual world. Too many strings, in a web of knots, were left to be untied. I try to cling on to every memory and reliving the good times somehow keep me breathing. I commit crime as I continuously devour the innocent replay button – never wanting this to end, never moving forward.

PARALLAX

Assumptions can grow so vile,

Deceit is an untiring pursuant

plotting this black parade...

How can a two-faced clown laugh

at this shape-shifting - a parallax?

No dumb can be complacent

to an unending cloud of false comfort

Why are evils summoned 

to labor for this abomination?

When will the thick mist diffuse 

to save our bond and vows?

Never will the light of hope 

be doused by the demon's commands

for then we’ll trace the dots 

from where the line be drawn.

Ayoko sa Introductions

Hindi ko mawari kung bakit ang karamihan sa mga taong nakikilala ko ay nag-e-expect ng paliwanag sa kung ano ba talaga ang kasarian ko. Parang nakakaloko lang kasi naman pag straight ka wala kang obligasyon para sabihing, “Uy, lalaki/babae nga pala ako.” Awkward ‘yun ‘di ba? Ganoon din ang nararamdaman ng mga miyembro ng third sex sa tuwing tinatanong sila sa kanilang gender preference? Kaya hindi ako naniniwalang magkakaroon ng gender equality sa bansa dahil na rin sa mga taong kakatwa ang takbo ng isip.

Kaya minsan ayaw ko talaga ng “introductions” lalo pa ngayong nasa isang contemporary/liberated environment  kuno ako nagtratrabaho. Maliban kasi sa pangalan, edad, araw ng kapanganakan at iba’t iba pang katanungan sa ilalim ng araw, malamang sa malamang na kikilatisin ka sabay diskumpiyadong tititigan mula ulo hanggang paa. Matatapos ka sa pagpapakilala pero maiiwan ang audience mong may malalaking question mark sa mukha. Kailangan bang ipaliwanag ang pagiging parte ng third sex?

Hindi ako naniniwalang kelangan ko pang magpaliwanag gaya rin ng obvious na pagiging lalaki o babae ng ilan. Isa pang nakakainis ay ‘yung pagtawag ng bakla o tomboy ng karamihan. Nakakairita lang! Ayoko talaga ng introductions!

Tambay: Ui, bakla...bakla!

Ako: Lalaki...lalaki! Sunog-baga, ul#L!

Minsan habang nasa pantry, napansin ng co-trainee ‘yung wallpaper ng CP ko. Litrato ni jowa. Napansin kong nagtataka siya, gumuhit na naman ang question mark. Malaki. Makapal. Tipong, “Ows, talaga!”

Unnecessary as it may seem, wala na ako nagawa kundi sabihing si jowa yun para lang mabura na ang mga tandang pananong. Ayoko ng nagpapaliwanag tungkol dito. Unfair para sa akin. Ang mga straight kailangan bang magpaliwanag kung sino ang nasa wallpaper ng CP nila? Pwede ko rin bang sabihing, “Ows, talaga?” Ayoko talaga ng introductions!

Ano nga ba kasi ang mapapala nila kung malalaman nila ang kasarian ko? Sobrang unusual.. peculiar... out of this world... odd... ad infinitum. Itinatawa ko na lang. Ang akin lang, ayoko ng naka-categorize. I am more than any label! 

Ayoko talaga ng introductions. I have no social obligation to define my gender preference. What you see is what you get. Isa pa superficial ang introductions. Mas makikilala mo ang isang tao sa kanyang pilosopiya, sa tipo ng kantang pinapakinggan niya, sa librong binabasa niya, sa mga kinakain niya at sa mga kaibigan niya. Hindi importante kung siya ay girl, boy, bakla, tomboy, butiki o baboy. Parang box of chocolates. May mga tsokolateng bilog, kwadrado, itim, puti at may mani pero sa kadulu-duluhan sa lasa lahat magkakatalo. Ayaw na ayaw ko na talaga sa introductions!

“You look down at me and question. I am different, you say. I don’t look like you nor the one beside you. You raise a brow and point a finger. Little did you know, my roots are on the same ground as yours. We feed on the same earth. We breathe the same air. If you try to look around, you’ll see. We amass and blossom fairly and in life’s cornucopia we may have taken a part better than you.”

Doubts

Paborito itong ngata-ngatain,

Tsibog sa mga anay kung ito'y ituring

Anong pilit man ito ilihim at balutin

Sangsang nito ilong moy' di mabibitin.

Palamutian man ng gintong kumakalansing,

halagay di papantay kahit sa isang kusing...

Kung ang puso'y maaaring maging marupok,

Sana’y ‘di hayaan ang kapit ay madurog.

Kalooban ma'y puno ng takot,

Nawa’y iwaksi ang mga linta sa isipan

'pagkat pag-ibig ay di kailanman lilisan,

Ihanda sana pusong nagangamba,

kumawala at sana'y muling magtiwala.