:-(

Saved from the Trash Bin

A couple of weeks back, I got sick and got stuck at home.

I started to rummage through my old stuff and tried to clear up my room of junk that I didn't need.

Found an old notebook where I scribbled down some thoughts which I tried to pass off as poems.

So, here they are... my chopped up journal entries pretending to look like poems.

March 13, 1996 / 4:35am

SELOS II

Bakit ba
sa dinamirami ng McDo
dito sa Pilipinas
dito pa kayo nagtagpuan?
Kayong mga nagmamahalan
aking mga matalik na kaibigan.

Tingnan mo nga naman kung sino
ang iyong ka-holding hands.
Ang dating Best Friend Johnny ko
na ngayon ay executive sa bangko.

Di ba
sabi mo
type mo
yung kalbo
at may tato.
Yung punk
na may hikaw sa ilong.

So, eto ako ngayon
kalbo
may tato ng pangalan mo
dito sa dibdib ko
at mas malala
tatlo na ang butas ng ilong ko.


August 28, 1996 / 3:35am

Untitled

Hulyo
Lunes
umuulan
naghanap ng lugar
kung saan pwede magdaldalan.
Sa Remedios napadpad.
Mainit pa ang inorder nating
café latte
nang siababi mo sa akin
ang iyong matamis no, “NO WAY!”

Parang magikero
puso ko’y hinablot
nilagay sa kahon
tinalian ng kadena
tinakpan ng tela
at pagkatapos sabihin ang
AKBRAKADABRA!
FRIENDS NA LANG TAYO!
wala na
wala na
ang mga pangnanasa
ang mga paghihinala

natira ang katotohanan
at ang aking
butas na dibdib

"Testing 1,2,3"

Driving to work today, the Barenaked Ladies started to whine on my car radio.

Better than the first time
Better than the worst time
If I could just reverse time
I'd be set

I still say they’ve got it good. They’re able to make money out of the misery.
If I were able to do that, I’d probably be a multi-billionaire.
Misery? I got lots of it.
If I put my misery on a garage sale I’d need a warehouse.

She got a new apartment
It's out on the escarpment
And in her glove compartment
Are my songs

She hasn't even heard them
Since she found out what the words meant
She decided she preferred them
All wrong

See? How many people can write a song using the work “escarpment”? Astig, di ba?

Testing 1,2,3
Can anybody hear me?
If I shed the irony
Would anybody cheer me?
If I acted less like me
Would I be in the clear?

Couple of weeks back, people in the office kept mentioning that I was “too happy”, “too cheerful”. They asked me what was wrong. Even client pointed it out. “He’s happy. Why?” And they talked about as if I wasn’t in the room. It was as if I was up to no good, like I was some sort of cheerful impostor--- hmmm, sounds like some wacko Doom Patrol villain: THE CHEERFUL IMPOSTOR! He takes the shape of cantankerous humans and messes up their lives by visiting their homes and workplace and doing good deeds.


Would anybody cheer me?
If I acted less like me

And on the other side of the mall, people were talking about how I never seemed to smile, that I whenever I walked in a room, it seemed like a dark cloud was following me around.

We recognize the present
Is half as pleasant
As our nostalgia for

The past'll be presented
Recast and reinvented
Until it's how we meant it

”Testing 1 2 3”… another song to add to my Soundtrack.