The Unfamiliar Tones of Life

I woke up with a tired look in my eye,
As I gaze at myself in the mirror,
Dissonances fill my head.
When will this turn into a resolution –
A complete consonance of tones?

Sometimes I feel that I am wandering
In an abyss of harmonic suspensions;
Not knowing when I will surface.
Feeling quite low
But exasperated by the highness of thoughts.

It's a Small Third-World

“Hindi ho puwede ‘to, ibalik n’yo po ‘yung original na papel. Kaya lang n’yo kami hinuhuli dahil may hawak kayong illegal na terminal ng jeep!” (This is not right, give the original documents back. You’re just doing this because you’re protecting your illegal terminal!), angrily said the wife of the jeep driver to the LTO (land and transportation office) officer while he was getting the plate of the jeep I rode. The LTO officer replied, “Kaya ko kayo hinuhuli dahil ‘di naka-seatbelt ang dryber”(I’m giving you a ticket because the driver is not wearing his seatbelt.). The officer did not give in and it seems that he got so irritated with the driver’s wife that he instructed the passengers to get out of the jeep. I politely asked for my fare back and left the scene. I saw the driver and his wife still arguing with the LTO officer as the jeep that I transferred to drove away.
This was an obvious revolt of a citizen against the rampant corruption in the country. Surprisingly the UP-Pantranco jeep terminal the driver’s wife was referring to is the impound complex of LTO. When there is a terminal, of course, there is a fee for using the space. Ironically, the LTO should be the one that prohibits these illegal terminals.
I am really not a “political person” – I hate politics and its controversies. But when you a situation like this happen in front of you, you’ll rethink your ideals. Here I saw the extensive corruption in the country in its smaller scale, which makes me want to stand my ground about the issues regarding the president – she’s a cheater and the people that surrounds her are corrupt and change of the system of government is not the answer to all of these but rather it is another tactic for another “power grab”.

All Dogs Go To Heaven

“Ma… Snoop dog’s dead!” I heard my sister tell my mom while I was sculpting a starfish from a bar of soap. I hurriedly ran to the garage to check out our dog. I saw it strangled with its own leash, tongue out and with the stiffness of death crawling on its body.

Scenes of its “puppyhood” flashed inside my head -- days when Snoop would freely run around the house, until it grew bigger and my mom had to let him stay outside of the house in the garage.

I was actually surprised to see him tied in a leash because the past few days he freely greeted me every time I arrived home. My mom told me that she had to tie it up after its bath.

I carried the dead dog’s body to our backyard. I couldn’t bare the look on its face -- the look of death. I stared at it for a while before I began digging its grave. The soil was so dry. I had to put water to soften it. It took me an hour and gallons of sweat to dig up a hole in the ground deep enough for the dog's dead body. While I was digging I imagined going home without a high-tone bark welcoming me.

The Neil Gaiman Adventure

“Did you see her with someone in line?” the owner of Fully booked asked us. I was about to say a resounding, “No!” when this frizzy haired guy appeared out of no where. He was lucky he didn’t have to wait in line. He just needed a couple of friends to contact him on his cellular phone and tell him, “Hey Neil Gaiman is still signing books! You can meet us here in line.” B******t! When you’ve been waiting for more that 7 hours in line that is what you want to say to unfair people.

I was dragged by a close friend of mine to the book signing, after class. He told me that this is his last chance for his books to be signed. So without hesitation I accompanied him. Unfortunately when we were to get numbers the organizers said they gave out all the 150 numbers at 11 am to the crazed fans of Neil Gaiman who were waiting from 5am. After that short conversation with the organizers we hurriedly went to the snake-like line. Unfortunately we were dragged to the “other end” of the line because the line we were at was for the ones with numbers; we didn’t see the “other line”, which extends until the outside of the mall to Aurora Boulevard.

At last, I can see Neil from where I was standing. After 9 hours of standing in line; telling jokes that are funny but you won’t laugh because of exhaustion; slapping your friend’s hand and he’ll slap in return so you won’t notice the time; reading words from right to left and then laughing before your friend search for it; and finally stepping in front of Neil; holding his hands to shake it; writing 3 words in the front page of your book; and in the end saying thank you and goodbye.

I had my friend’s book signed.

444th.

Cramming Art

A dead angel – wings crimson with blood; you can see the darkness beyond; the jealous angel descending after the murder; all in charcoal except the blood; a reference for the dead angel’s face; and 12 by 18 paper.

Hours before the 10 pm deadline I was still conceptualizing the images I would draw. My body was still exhausted from the trip from Quiapo – hands trembling. I can feel the pencil in my hand but I can’t seem to start what I thought about. My friend, who is also joining the contest, started his painting days ago. I was just cramming it all up. But winning is not really my intention. I just want my work to be posted as one of the art works inspired by the work of Neil Gaiman.

Neil was introduced to me by a friend through his book, Smokes and Mirrors. I was thrown away by how he altered my usual notions of angels in his short story Murder Mysteries. I was inspired by the work. When a classmate gave me a flier of the Neil Gaiman Art competition I was certain to join. Alas! I had no time to do the artwork. When at last I withdrew the hope that I was to finish a drawing in time, my friend persuaded me to draw something just for the fun of it.

We both finished in time for the deadline with much running, phone calls to Fully booked and sweat.