Epitaph

And so he said: it’s better to burn out
Than to fade away, the drive gone,
The passion dead, cannot find
The light, the writing on the wall
Like stains of blood of the doggone days.
Carry on, and I plunge into deep, perpetual
Slumber, and dream of things that must
Have been, of songs I might have sung.
Dream, and I look at history with
Wretched, bitter tears of scorn and
Guilt.

Pain and disgust withered away, thrown to
The dungeon where terror eats the downtrodden’s
Flesh, and hate drinks the blood of hope.
Open your eyes, see misery
Flowing through the swollen veins
Of Lucifer’s slave; uncover your ears
Hear the wailing sound of lust ablaze in the
Fires of hell.
Now, I leave this inferno, where man
Eats his own kind, and step into space
Where time is bound to eternity of peace.

April 1994
In memoriam Kurt Cobain

The Invisible Man

Reviving old friendships is always a good experience. Lately, I have been “chatting” with a very close college friend, and even though we have not seen each other for almost a decade now, it seems like it was just yesterday when we used to hang out at our “tambayan” at the tibak territory in UP. I can vividly remember those lazy afternoons spent discussing politics, if not about anything else under the sun like why does a mosquito bite swell.

Of course, there were good days and there were bad days. But just being with the “tropa” was enough to get me out of my stump. In our own demented ways, we were able to keep each other sane. All of us in the group at that time were of the same wavelength. We were all idealistic and assertive of our principles. We were critical, both in a bad and a good way. We were to save this beloved nation from further rape by our so-called leaders.

Sad to say, I outgrew my idealism and eventually became a corporate sell-out. I am now officially capitalism’s puppet that cannot seem to survive without having a taste of Starbucks every now and then. Too bad for me, now that I think about it.

Fortunately though, my “tropa” has kept the flames of idealism alive. In all honesty, I greatly envy them and more deeply admire them. I admire them because they are selfless, they are honest, and they are passionate and compassionate. The list can go on and on. But I wonder why my friend’s status in YM is always invisible (hehehe). Surely a good guy like him deserves recognition. And then I realized, maybe he’s invisible because he represents the cause of the invisible marginalized of this country. But then again, maybe he’s invisible because he’s just hiding from somebody. Whatever the reason is, profound or otherwise, I take my hat off to him and the few who is with him in his cause. Kudos to you, Invisible Man!

Pasma

Yung boss naming Amerikana sobrang kwela. Cool na cool. Sobrang feel nya ang mga Pinoy. Nung nag team building kami, lahat kami american breakfast, pero si bossing, ang classic na tapsilog ang inalmusal. Pero kahit gaano siya ka cool, medyo iwas kami sa kanya. Lalo na at ito'y madaldal. Kaya walang gustong mag open ng conversation with her kasi mapapasabak ka se mega todong kwentuhan. Mula sa trabaho hanggang sa kung bakit ang anak niya ay isang klaseng t-shirt lang ang sinusuot. Minsan, masaya kaming mga pinoy na nagkwekwentuhan tungkol sa kung anik-anik nang biglang dumaan si bossing. E naabutan niyang pinaguusapan namin ay tungkol sa pasma. You know...the thing you get when you wet your eyes after reading, or you wash your feet after running...the "pasma". Anyways, dumugo na mga ilong namin sa kakahanap ng English transalation ng "pasma". Meron bang suggestions dyan?