I flipped the page, coldly surveyed the supposed-to-be familiar faces enclosed w

ith vines atop generic maxims and dreams.

This should make me feel nostalgic.
Hinalukay ko ang aking kaibuturan sa pagnanais na madama ang nostalgia, ngunit a
ko ay nabigo. Binigo ng kahungkagan, sa parehong paraan na binigo ako ng aking m
emorya.
Emptiness was all that is left aside from frustration. I gritted my teeth, clenc
hed my fist as if doing so will make me remember those memories that faded along
with the pride I once had.
Oh Diyos na mahabagin, ano ang aking nagawa upang danasin ang masalimuot na pang
yayaring ito? Kasalanan bang hindi manlimos sa mga batang sabog sa rugby? sa mga
matatandang mas mayaman pa sa akin kung tutuusin? Wala kong maalalang pagkakasa
la na sinlaki ng mga kasalanan ng mga politiko.
Or saying I don't remember anything at all is a better way to put it. I bitterly
smiled at the bitter mockery of myself by my thoughts. I looked around the room
. The room- a standard white hospital room- reeks of sanitizer, crap and a hint
of death. My eyes settled at the bedside table where my post-lunch mess, barely
opened fruitbasket and a bunch of nearly rotten tulips rest.
Tinitigan ko ang pulang bulaklak, ang halinang taglay nito sa gitna ng kalat. Hi
ndi kaaya-aya. Hindi kaaya-aya sapagkat ito'y nagsusumigaw para sa atensyon, sap
agkat ito'y maganda sa kabila ng magulo nitong paligid. May kung anong rebolusyo
n na nag-umpisa sa aking gunita.
My temples twitched, at first, like a baby kicking life in its mother's belly. H
ard yet gentle. Until- Oh fuck, it hurts. My head's gonna burst. My temples puls
ate as hard as a heart pounding after a delightful inhale of MJ-that state befor
e being stoned. No way a baby would kick his mother's belly like this unless he
has already awakened his brutality, unless he strongly believes the survival of
the fittest and takes the "You-have-to-kill-in-order-to-live" principle to the n
ext level. Oh fuck, it seems that my brain is constantly downgrading as memories
of past overlaps my consciousness.
At ako'y nakatulog.
In my dreams, pieces of me are united like a puzzle slowly taking form, but it i
s nowhere fulfilling as completing a jigsaw. Now that I remember everything, how
I want to forget everything again.
Minulat ko ang aking mata. Ayaw ko ng umalala. Inabot ko ang kape sa mesa at min
sanang nilagok. Malamig na. Mapait at malamig. Napakasaklap na kombinasyon. Dagd
agan lang ng kaunting sipa ay maari ng ihalintulad sa alak.
"That con-bitch." I drank rhum as if water to calm my nerves. Drinking alone was
not a good idea after all. And so is calling my buddies who will ask fucking qu
estions of what happened and how the fuck they told me so. That's the least thin
g I need.
Alcohol became a part of my routine. It became my confidante, a shoulder to lean
on. I tried to kill myself with alcohol, for which I created a juice diet, ferm
ented grape juice in my case.
Maaring naurat si Bacchus sa aking mga hinaing, reklamo at kawalan ng bayag. Han
ggang isang gabi, pinagbigyan nya ang aking hiling na makalimot. Iniuntog nya an
g aking ulo sa mesa. Hindi pa nakuntento'y binagsakan ng flower vase.

Rancid smell forth from foul nectar of weeklong tulips-tulips that she refused.
Why did I wish to remember such misery? If I were to forget again, I wish to ret
ain a memory that would stop me from trying to remember.
Ngunit paano ako muling makakalimot? Alak? Hindi, panandalian lamang ang handog
nitong amnesia. Bagukin ko uli ang ulo ko? Punyeta.
I don't know what to do anymore. The walls, the curtains, the fluorescent bulb,
they are all laughing at me, at my misery.
Paano kaya kapag ako ay maglaho kasama ang mga alaala? Mas mainam kaya?
At doon nahagip ng aking tingin ang bintanang maluwag ang pagkakangiti tila ba i
pinapakita nito ang daan patungong kalayaan, patungong pagkalimot. Lumapit ako.
Tinahak ang daan patungong kalayaan para lamang magising sa katotohanan.
Too bad, because when I opened my mind, my eyes were already blinded by the azur
e sky as I plummet from the 5th floor to the ground. As I plunged and waited for
my brain to lay asunder at the concrete pavement, I pictured her face in the sh
ade of red . Her lips were always painted with red. My last thoughts were: "Will
Earth be as beautiful in scarlet?"