Copyright 2013 by Camille Estanislao

A TYPHOGR Production
De La Salle-College of St. Benilde
Mail: camillethemoon@gmail.com
Website: manilamoon.com
Read this online: talaisipan.tumblr.com
Works compiled from 2007 to 2013.
This book or any of its parts may not be reproduced by any means
without the prior written consent of the author.
Manila, Philippines

TALAISIPAN
An Adolescent Anthology

CAMILLE SAYS
Hello. My name is Camille Estanislao, and this is my
adolescent anthology. I wrote these things between the ages
of 15 and 21, which means theyre, well, adolescent. Most of
my favorite authors are old, male, or dead. So Ill probably
never be my own favorite author.
Sometimes I write because I want to write. Those are
bad days. Poems come out flat and stories dont form. Thats
because anyone can write, and Im just anyone.
Sometimes I write because I have to. Suddenly, there
are words in my head that are perfect, or a story that wasnt
there before. Then the words come out better, because I have
something to say. This happens rarely. If you come across
something in this book that you actually like, then it was
probably written on a day like that.
As a person who is not a writer, I dont hope for this to
come across as brilliant or unforgettable. As long as its
worth reading, thatd be cool.
Manila, November 2013

CONTENTS
POETRY
2

Wanderlust
Selena and Jacinto

Intramuros

Out of Town

A Gasping and a Groaning

Cinnamon Sky

Dance

From the Rejected Index Card

The Night Was Torn in Two Today

10

Trapped in a Room
Out on my Mother's Errand

11

A Gathering of Thieves
In Memory of the Captain

12

It is Four in the Morning

Finance in Tenths

13

Polluted

14

Hai(na)ku

FICTION
16

Mountainside Story

23

Mirrors Can Remember

(Unpublished First Draft)

26

Darna

POETRY
Sate my wonder...
Wanderlust.

TALAISIPAN

Wanderlust
In the stars and God I trust
I sail the seas and tread the dust
To see, and feel,
To know the real,
I want, I need, I live: I must

Sate my wonder
Wanderlust

Selena and Jacinto

Selena and Jacinto have sworn to count the stars,
Sworn to watch the sky each night forever.
Selena and Jacinto will count the stars till death,
For each star is one eternity together:
For Selena and Jacinto.

AN ADOLESCENT ANTHOLOGY

Intramuros
Pretty moss-grown archways from four centuries ago
Blooms blow across the entrance to where time is always slow
And atop the old stone walls stand the trees who watch us pass:
Those who linger and who walk away on the pavement
and the grass

Every breeze and every sunbeam, every yellowed leaf that falls
And every drop of blood sheds in the memories of the walls
All the scenes of forty decades in every stone there is a trace
And once I walk past these walls, they will not forget my face

One sunset, all was lonely and the stones were all ears
Just as silent and alive as they had been all the long years
The day was dying once again, and on a stone ledge by a tree
A patch of sunlight shone, breathing in the nearby sea

And in the secret twilight, the stars stare down quietly

TALAISIPAN

Out of Town
Saltwater on rocks
The sun in the sky
Stars fall, and all
Thoughts pass by

We dont leave our footprints

Weve no traces in the sea
But the waves that stroke the seashore leave
Their fingerprints on me

A Gasping and a Groaning

There is a gasping and a groaning,
And the grinning of the cats
Can be seen from a mile away
Theres a rhythm to the rainbows
That take turns in the sky
Every other sunny day.

The gasping and the groaning

Comes from underneath our feet
And is heard from above the ground
And the pattering sweet pattern
Of the rain upon the grass
Heals this constant and terrible sound.

AN ADOLESCENT ANTHOLOGY

Cinnamon Sky
Cinnamon sky, cinnamon sky
Eons wet and ages dry
Burns the skin and blinds the eye
The clouds are haughty passersby
Beauty sharp and beauty high
Dust and blue and cinnamon
Sky

TALAISIPAN

Dance
Dusted cheekbone
Powder fine

Raven hair with

Gems beset

Onyx liner

Soft gloved fingers

Ruby wine

Rosy lips

Pearls on chest
Through silver strings

Gentle eyes and

Fingertips

A little more and

This elfish dream

Shed have wings

It starts to sway

Silk and satin

To slowly dance

Lace corset

The night away

From the Rejected Index Card

Home, heart, and treasure
Love without measure
Youth is the right time to think about love
The pain and the pleasure
Of a life of adventure
Hands held as we conquer while looking above

AN ADOLESCENT ANTHOLOGY

The Night was Torn in Two Today

The night was torn in two today
She rose up madly screaming
Then quieted, I heard her say
Good Lord, Im only dreaming

The night was silent once again

Peace reigned the world, it seemed
But in her covers, in her bed
She muttered, stirred, and dreamed

It may seem safe inside our heads

Beyond madness and contempt
But its not safe inside our heads
We know this who have ever dreamt

Night after night we all return

To bright halls decked with streamers
To the theaters where we all earn
The memories of dreamers

TALAISIPAN

Trapped in a Room
Trapped in a room
With the sunlight weak
Between the walls (they whisper)
And the floors (they speak)
The windows wide open
But for a curtain of dread
And the doors only locked
By the chains in my head

Out on my Mothers Errand

Out on my mothers errand
And off the beaten track
The journey there is perilous
And sos the journey back

AN ADOLESCENT ANTHOLOGY

A Gathering of Thieves
God smiles upon this meeting:
A gathering of thieves
Whose hearts are pure
And minds unsure
Of what they should believe

In Memory of the Captain

"Id rather be thrown to the crocs in the Nile,"
Said the Captain, faced with a mermaids smile.
And that was the thing with the captain, he
Knew his diamonds from rocks, and rivers from seas.
As a fish is to water, so he was to his post
Till the waves washed his bones
when his story was closed.

10

TALAISIPAN

It is Four in the Morning

It is four in the morning. The elderly crone
Walks a mile and a half to fetch water, alone.

Finance in Tenths
One for the pocket, fair fortune to find
One for the bank for your peace of mind
One for the poor (isnt charity sweet,
A tenth for the hungry gone wild in the streets?)
As long as theres glitter to shod my poor feet
Take two for small pleasures, and one more for when
Youll never work more in your life again
Three for the things you can pay for tomorrow
Theres nothing you cant steal or ransom, or borrow
(Then pray for salvation for when death takes toll)
And one for the devil, lest the devil take all.

AN ADOLESCENT ANTHOLOGY

Polluted
It was a different rain that rained today
His hair turned red, and skin turned gray
And it sparkled on cars and on cracked asphalt streets
There were gasoline rainbows that swam by his feet
And he tried not to breathe, and resolved to survive
And he thought, Ill get out of this city alive
Though his throat burns like anything,
and though day after day
Hell still ride through mist, smoke, and flood,
and hell pray
For the days to pass quickly, for someday hell be
At home on a hilltop, or at home by the sea
Somewhere far from the black mist that fills up the heart,
That blackens the lungs, and it pulled him apart
For theres nothing right now that can just change what is.
For his soul was the citys, and the citys was his.

11

12

TALAISIPAN

Hai(na)ku
May mga malungkot na thought bubble
na lumilipad sa hanging mainit
Sa ilalim ng kalawakang makulimlim.
Malapit nang umulan.

FICTION
Wala na akong
itatanong pa.

14

TALAISIPAN

A MOUNTAINSIDE STORY
I dont know where she came from, or whether she came from anything
at all (but she must have!) but, in any case, I have my suspicions.
It was in the backyard of our little hut that she first made her
appearance. Tony, that little pest of a brother, had been throwing
stones at a huge tree across the stream, entirely forgetful of what
Mother said about doing such things.
That girl. She may have been a spirit, but I saw her as clearly as I saw
my brother, when she suddenly emerged from some leafy corner of the
stream, and sat next to him.
Tony, I called. As usual, he played deaf and picked up another stone.
I anxiously drew nearer, aware that the girl was talking to him
animatedly, but he was taking no notice. Rude little thing, I thought.
The girl was probably a new cousin of the ever-multiplying neighbors.
Tony! I repeated. Mothers calling us for lunch. I approached them
and poked the back of his head.

AN ADOLESCENT ANTHOLOGY

15

All right, Im coming!

The girl turned to me with a brilliant smile. Thats his name? Tony?
Yes, I replied, warming to her at once. Whats yours?
She ignored my question. She looked at by brother and laughed.
Tony, she saidnot as if she was talking to him, but just like she was
sounding his name on her tongue. She turned to me and said, He
woke me up.
Tss. Never mind him, I told her, hes always making trouble.
I became aware of Tony staring at me incredulously.
Who on earth are you talking to? he demanded.
Look, Tony, if you really want to ignore her
Then the girl giggled and put a finger to her lips, and said, Sshh! And
then she bounced away into the bushes, yelling, Bye, Tony! Bye!
And still, Tony was looking at me, one eyebrow raised.
Near the market, my brother often played games with his friends. I
couldnt understand how he could block out the fact that we had a sick
grandfather and baby twins at home, and no father to speak of. At ten
carefree years old, he wouldnt help me, his twelve-year-old sister, as I
trudged home from the market laden with one plastic bag of food and
one tattered bag of homework. Id rarely have the luxury to join him. I
never did, after our father left and I first saw the hidden tear-tracks on
my mothers cheeks.
It was one of these days that I saw the girl again, watching him with
shining eyes, from beneath a tree.
Hey, its you again, I said affably. Youre always looking at my
brother, huh? Like him, dont you?
She laughed. Look, he plays really well.

16

TALAISIPAN

Dont you want to join?

She shook her head.
Want me to punch him for you, if he wont stop ignoring you?
She laughed again, and shook her head again.
Ill punch him anyway, I said a little bitterly. While his familys
having a hard time
Oh no, hes a good person, she interrupted me. A good person, she
repeated.
I frowned at her. Whats your name, kid? Where are you from?
She laughed yet again, ignoring me, pointing to Tony. Go, Tony! Go!
she yelled as my brother concentrated on the slipper he was about to
throw. Nobody seemed to be paying her any attention.
I shrugged, picked up my bags, and went off. When I looked over my
shoulder, she was gone; shed probably run off too.
The next few years grew increasingly difficult for us, but the
carelessness had washed off of Tony. He became for us the man of the
house, snuggling up to Mother, taking odd jobs, dreaming of being a
teacher, or a doctor, or something in the city.
In the city! our grandfather would laugh. No, youd be better off
staying here, boy. Arent there schools here?
It was only comments like that that could make my brother frown.
Our mountainside town frustrated him. But we had to stay, at least for
now: our combined efforts allowed our mother to put up a small store
at home.
A girl named Michelle often bought snacks at our store. Somehow she
always came when Tony was the one on duty there. They were both
fifteen at that time. Soon they were sort of inseparable. They took

AN ADOLESCENT ANTHOLOGY

17

long walks along the rocky stream where Tony used to throw stones.
One evening I was surprised to see three of them sitting among the
big rocks. It was Tony, Michelle, and another girl, who looked slightly
familiar.
As I drew nearer, the other girl saw me over her shoulder, and she
drew back her long dark hair. Hello, she said to me, and laughed.
Tonys sister, right?
I was so shocked I stumbled back onto the muddy pebbles, almost into
the water.
Tony looked up. Whatre you doing here? he demanded.
Come to see you, giggled the mysterious girl.
Just passing by, I said defiantly.
Hello, big sister, said Michelle sweetly.
Tonys doing really well, isnt he? said the girl.
Who are you? I said loudly.
Um you mean me? Michelle said, uncertainly.
Noher!
Tony stood up. Youre crazy, he told me. Lets go, Chelle. Where no
oned spy on us. He threw me a dark look, took Michelle by the hand,
and walked away. Ill be home for dinner! he yelled.
The girl got up too, and started to follow the couple. She found time
to wave at me, and smile brilliantly, before she went. I ran all the way
home.
Tony later asked me what that had been all about. I told him I thought
Id seen someone lurking behind the rock.
I was twenty, and already a teacher; but Id had to postpone further
studies and my going to the city, so we could pay for our twin siblings

18

TALAISIPAN

schooling. Tony was gone chasing his own (new) dreams of being a
journalist. He was young, but he was fearless, and hed gotten himself
a job as an assistant to some big-shot journalist.

He was always

sending us long letters and a little money, and though we were all
uncertain about his adventures, we were so glad he was happy.
While he was on his way, I was stuck at home, in the middle of
nowhere far from the city lights wed so dreamed of. Id sit alone by the
stream sometimes, dreaming and planning in my head, and hoping
Tony was all right.
Then I saw her again.
Someone was crying. It was a long-haired young woman. I heard her
sobs not far from where I sat, and the sound of her voice reminded me
of a laugh I had heard many times, years before.
I came closer, tentatively. She looked up and wiped her eyes with her
hands, and looked at the starry sky.
How is Tony? she smiled at me, sadly.
You know, I said, as quietly as I could, whoever and whatever you
are, I think you should be able to know how Tony is.
I miss him, she told me. She picked up a small stone from the stream,
and it dripped as she held it up in the starlight. And, exactly as Tony
used to do when he was younger, she threw it across the stream. She
laughed.
Who are you? Please?
She wiped her eyes again. She walked away into the trees, leaving me
too drained to be very much unnerved.
Finally an assignment brought Tony to our town, and he got to visit us;
we wish he never did.
They went off into the mountains, not to look for spirits, not to go

AN ADOLESCENT ANTHOLOGY

19

hiking, but to speak to the rebels who lived in hiding. There were
twelve of them. Six of them went up that evening and the other six
stayed in town.
The next morning they returnedwith a group of rebels in tow. The
townspeople were afraid. We stayed in our homes; we believed that
talks with the rebels could not possibly go well. Well, I believed they
could. I forced myself to believe this; there had been anger in Mothers
eyes when Tony had insisted on going the previous night.
That day I pulled out of Mothers clutching hands and followed Tony,
the other journalists, and the grubby rebels with their guns, as they
crossed our dear old stream and laughed loudly.
The top reporter who had apprenticed Tony said to one rebel, I am
really glad you do not feel that we are interfering.
No, the rebel laughed back at him. We are always safe no matter
what we do, sir.

Surely you know that, sir.

We appreciate your

honesty.
And the other rebels agreed loudly. I saw that Tony had gone quiet.
Hey, another rebel said. We are here to meet your whole party,
arent we?
Yes, the head reporter replied, and he took out a cell phone. Theyre
coming.
They waited in silence for a while. And I did, too, concealed behind a
rock, behind some ferns, in a tiny crevice in the mountain, sunk
beneath the ground.
Tony saw me, and his eyes widened. I waved at him and his furious yet
amused expression told me I should be home.
When the other journalists arrived, I had almost dozed off in my little
hole. I only heard, as if in a dream, a yell of triumph. This is what you

20

TALAISIPAN

get for your casual conversations! Next time, dont go too far.
There was an almighty uproar and I thought I felt someone clasp my
hand. But there was no one beside me. Guns were going off and men
were yelling. It seemed to go on for a long time. I dared not show my
face above ground, but crouched in my hole, sobbing, trying not to sob,
and losing breath. Then there was silence, silence for a long, long time.
When I emerged from the leaves at last, I heard from a distance women
shrieking, not daring to come closer. I was still in the thicket of trees,
where the townspeople could not immediately see me and the mess
around me. But surely they could see the old, beloved stream, now
running with blood.
Only eleven bodies were recovered; Tonys was never found. Its said
that he was taken by the rebels for who knows what reason. I let them
speculate: I know what happened.
For when I emerged into the scene of carnage, a gibbering wreck, I fell
at once upon Tonys body. I could not speak, and I could no longer cry,
but I was shaking madly. To my wonder my brothers body started to
move.
It was a young woman with long hair, also shaking with quiet sobs, but
she wasnt bloody or messed up like I was. She was beautiful, and she
was pulling Tonys body away into the trees.
He woke me up, she told me.

But I didnt feel like hearing

explanations. I felt like I knew, even if I didnt. I only remember

thinking that she was going to fall asleep again.
My going home that morning and our life afterwards is another long
and sad story. I wish it could have ended where I stood that day.
Into the trees, into the darkness.

UNPUBLISHED FIRST DRAFT

MIRRORS CAN REMEMBER

Do you know what mirrors are capable of?
Mirrors can remember.
Once, in Narcissuss wood, I met a wandering nymph who nursed a
great admiration for the handsome, drowned youth. She wore
narcissus flowers in her hair; indeed, she was very beautiful. And she
insisted that her looks were nothing compared to Narcissuss.
But, how do you know? I asked her. Narcissus was before your time.
Oh, but the lake remembers his face, she told me. His face sometimes
glimmers out of it, an image of perfectionperhaps to remind me of my
own vanity.
Years later I walked into an old ballet studio that used to be a nightclub,
that used to be a ballroom dance studio, that used to be a tea shop, that
used to be a caf for old book lovers. The mirrors had always been
there, old as old can be.

22

TALAISIPAN

Years later I walked into an old ballet studio that used to be a nightclub,
that used to be a ballroom dance studio, that used to be a tea shop, that
used to be a caf for old book lovers. The mirrors had always been
there, old as old can be.
Its probably still there.
Looking closely, its just possible to discern stockinged legs flashing up
and down, in the mirrors memories. If you look long enough, you might
see bookshelves behind you, too. But I didnt stay that long.
Back in Narcissuss wood, I told my friend the nymph that there wasnt
much use in investigating mirrors memories anyway. And wasnt a
reflection a mere bounce-back of light under the right conditions?
Well, yes, she replied, but you cant deny that sometimes, reflections
are what make things exist. A bounce-back of light. How much light
do you have in you, that a mirror will not forget your face in a hurry??
I was pleasantly surprised to find that it is rather enjoyable to sit at the
bank of Narcissuss lake, legs wallowing in the water and surrounded by
perfect white flowers.
The nymph pointed at the moon.
The moon is a mirror of the sun, she declared magnificently, and the
lake is a mirror of the moon, tonight.
A pair of eyes glimmered from out the ripples I was making with my
feet. Such beautiful, gray eyes
As the ocean is mirror to the sky, and such temperamental things they
are!
The lake itself is vain, I thought.
And his eyes, the nymph smiled at where the gray glimmer had been,
are a reflection of his spirit, and they are reflected in the lake. You will

AN ADOLESCENT ANTHOLOGY

23

not gain much from ithe was quite as shallow as the lake is deep,
apparently.
But after that last visit to Narcissuss wood, I could no longer see deep
into mirrors. Something in those gray and coldly beautiful eyes had
taken that away from me.
I could only see my own reflection and wonder what else the mirror
remembers. Meanwhile, I have taken to staring into the greatest
mirrorsthe oceansdepths, hoping that the depth would crack away
the vain shallowness of Narcissuss eyes. And anyway, I might meet a
naiad, and who knows what the mermaids will be able to show me.

DARNA
The biggest question of all: Bakit ba ang obsessed ng mga tao sa
superheroes?
Hindi ko alam, pero aalamin ko rin one day.
Isa akong Psychology major, patapos na sa college. One year akong
delayed, and I can tell you, hindi masaya ang parents ko about that.
Although hindi naman kami naghihirap, at afford naman nila, hindi din
naman ako yung usual upper-middle-class brat na spoiled sa magulang
at sampung taon nag college just because they can. Medyo
grade-conscious ang parents ko (and so am I) at isa pa, mahilig sila sa
success stories. Kaya, hindi din nila masyadong trip yung Psych para
sakin. Ano gagawin mo, guidance counseling?
Pero importante talaga sakin malaman yung yung workings ng
human psyche. Kaya ko to kinuha. (Now that Im here, hindi naman
pala ganung ka-simple. Pero worth it naman.)
For example. Bakit may mga taong saksakan ng sama? Nanakawan ka na

AN ADOLESCENT ANTHOLOGY

25

nga lang, cha-chop-chopin ka pa at ihahagis yung katawan mo sa

malayong ilog o bukiran. Ano ang rationale para sa unnecessary
cruelty?
Bakit ang mga pulitiko, madadaya at masasama? Hindi na ba nila naiisip
ang kapakanan ng mahihirap? Kahit galing sila sa hirap, madaya parin
sila! Kapag bata pa sila, radical sila, idealistic, ilusyonado aktibista.
Bakit ganun? Kapag tumanda ka na ba, hindi ka na pwedeng maging
aktibista? Gusto mo na lang, tahimik na buhay na iingay lang tuwing
eleksyon, kasi wala na din namang pag asa ang bayang ninanakawan
mo? Is it because of selfishness, or disillusionment?
Bakit ang o-obsessed ng mga tao sa superheroes? Mga Pinoy, in
particular. Dahil ba ito sa mahilig tayo sa concept ng divine
intervention, sa miracle cures? Dahil ba ito sa wala tayong disiplina
ayusin ang mga problema, kaya idol na idol natin ang quick and magical
solutions?
Bata pa lang ako, yan na iniisip ko. Kaya nung high school, nagdecide
akong mag-Psych.
Bilang teenager, hindi naman lahat ng ginagawa ko, aprubado ng
magulang. Kahit masipag naman ako mag-aral, madami akong
inaatupag kaya ayun, sorry Ma, sorry Dad, hindi ako pumasa sa UP like
you wanted. Medyo hassled kasi ako the week before the test.
Pero okay lang naman, kasi nakapasa naman ako sa highfalutin ewan
school, good enough, good enough, hija. Party on the weekends, every
three months beg for another gadget na pwedeng gamitin pang-selfie
sa Starbucks, paramihan ng trips to Hong Kong, expensive study group
all-nighters, pagwapuhan ng boys na nilalandi, subukan paring
mag-stay sa Deans List, at magkunyaring may pakialam sa basketball

26

TALAISIPAN

kapag UAAP. Check, check, and check.

If I had it all my way, seryoso, okay na ako sa ganito. Okay na kong hindi
isipin ang Bakit ba ang obsessed ng mga tao sa superheroes? I mean
every time theyre on the news, naloloka ang taumbayan. Parang janitor
na pinapalakpakan E kung kayo kaya ang maglinis dyan?
Anyway, palapit na ang graduation at nag-iba na ang ihip ng hangin.
May konting sabik at may konting kaba. Tsaka pre-finals stress. Now,
everybody, everybody is asking me:
Ano gagawin mo after college?
Ano gagawin ko after college?
The same thing. The same damn thing. Ill be living the same life until I
cant anymore. So Im sorry to disappoint everybody, pero Ill be living
the most regular life imaginable. Sorry, kasi wala along balak maging
success story like my parents want. Office job lang. Guidance
counselor habang buhay, okay na. Or something like that.
But remember this, years from now: bago mo pagtawanan ang
government employee na yan with that dead-end job of hers, bago ka
umiling-iling at sabihing, sayang naman sya, could have done
something better with her life, ang yaman at graduate pa naman sa ano,
blah-da-freakin-blah Tanungin mo muna sarili mo, why are you so
fucking obsessed with superheroes?
Basta ako, every time I put on my cape, at tuwing nilulunok ko ang
walang hiyang bato na yan wala na akong itatanong pa.

DESIGN INFO
Fonts are Voltaire by Yvonne Schttler
and Lora by Cyreal. They are available at
http://google.com/fonts.
Designed by Camille Estanislao

TALAISIPAN.TUMBLR.COM