Hymns from A Winged Archer

I went to a Born-Again Service yesterday. I’ve been to two before, making yesterday my third. I woke up at 5am that morning, there was slight rain as I looked out my grandfather’s window. I got myself cleaned and prepped. I didn’t bother eating breakfast.  It should have been something I was prepared and used to by then; knowing what will happen and what follows next. But I was unusually excited.

Excited to go to mass?

I thought the only thing I looked forward to on Sunday was pasta.

I only had Php84.50 in my pocket that time. As I looked myself in the mirror, I computed the fare I am going to need for that trip.

7.00 for the Jeep
11.00 for the MRT
12.00 for the LRT2
7.00 for another jeep
10.00 for the trike.

that  made php47 total, 10 short of making it back. One way. I gave a sigh, telling myself that it may have been a one way trip after all. I checked my bag and I saw a shiny 5 peso coin in the deepest cavernous corner. That would have to do. I didn’t want to wake up anyone at that hour, closed the gate as the puppies looked on at me, then made my leave.

I promised her I would be early for today. I was reasonably tired from the game and from the trip from manila to Proj.6. Grandpa and I drank Portuguese red wine the night before as well. But I knew I had no excuse. I gave my word, and if in this occasion, I don’t pull thru, what more  about  my four year promise? I’d rather be dog tired and have a one way ticket and walk all the way back than go back on my word.

6:55am; LRT2 station, Kamuning.

The rain has stopped and I saw the sun rise as I left the Station. She said she was going to be early.  I stepped into a jeepney and went down at Robinson’s to take the trike to "the Bride of Christ". I was not sure whether or not I was in the right terminal, but being headstrong as I was, I went on ahead inside the trike. The driver was a lady, and I told her the place I wanted to go to. She was not sure where the street was, but we were mobile by the time she brought it to my attention. She didn’t know where the church was.

"….."

we passed by a street which I thought was named Ignacio Cruz, the street I was looking for, and called it to her attention. I stepped down at that corner. and paid 10 pesos. She asked for 15. I was already short, so what difference, i thought, did it make?

A walked further down the street to see the Church exactly where she described it to be. I entered the place to see people thrice my age busy like ants scurrying about. So I did what I thought was right: stay out of the limelight, take a corner seat and be unobstructive.

7:14; "Bride of Christ"

As I took my seat, A man approached me and shook my hand.

"Good morning, Brother"

"good morning", I replied.

He was a pastor in that Church, and he seemed quite interested in asking me questions regarding the Who’s, the what, the when, the where, and the Hows about me. It was a cordial discussion of me trying to satisfy his thirst, being inquisitive. Every time I answered his question, I looked around, specially at the door, to see if she has arrived.

"Are you Korean?"

Where do you live?"

"Are you Christian?"

In the end, out of my nature or boredom, I had more questions to ask him than vice-versa. I touched on religion, on faith, on salvation, but being sure not to be overly offensive in my questioning, since I saw he had difficulty answering them.

Then, she arrived, I still remember what she wore, to the color of the bag she carried. She sat down beside me, as my heart jumped, not trying to make it obvious.

She insisted sitting in front.

"I don’t want to"

"sige na!"

"eh…."

"Please?"

I came there for one reason, and one reason at all. For her. I told her that the night before when she told me not to go if I’m going simply for her sake. I said I would, and she had no say in that. But in my being there, something happens, it would be only between God and I,but because she was there.

"Sigh…. Fine."

8:00am.

The pastor gave a lecture on the tabernacle, something I took up in my years in  Christian schools, and something I was rather familiar with. There is nothing noteworthy about what took place, aside from seeing how dedicated she was to her cause.

Two guys then approached our row and sat down beside us. I got her attention to let her know her companions have arrived. The night before, She told me that one of her ex’s would be there as well. I wanted to see the type of man she was with, to see if I am at least any good to her. I couldn’t tell from the two who it could have been. both were clean cut, presentable and polite. Placed beside me, I didn’t feel insecure, but there was respect to them and to her that they were very decent men.

I was prepared.

I felt I was prepared.

But not for what happened next.

I saw it coming. She stood up, went to the altar, and with all her spirit and being, she sang. There is a warmth in the way she sang. The way the first rays of a sunrise touches your skin. It is gentle, but there is strength and beauty behind it. I closed my eyes to let her sink into my soul. but as soon as it started, it ended.

She began making her way back to our row, beside me, I gave her a big smile and clapped my hands softly to let her see how proud I am of her. I’m afraid she didn’t even notice.

A lady pastor then went for the podium. She then spoke of disease as if they were punishments for not acknowledging  God. I found that a tad offensive, not for my sake, but  for my mom’s. She was nothing but pious. How dare her…

But… She did say something striking. She talked about sin. She talked about regretting sin and all will be alright. There should be a call to virtue.

I thought to myself, I love a woman that could not love me back. Is that a sin? a sin to self? Can I call it virtue to wait for nothing? If it is a sin, it is a sin that I do not regret, and i will gladly take to the afterlife. But is it still virtue when your closest tell you that it is wrong to still pursue and ideal so next to impossible? No one ever said virtue was an easy thing. Even if the odds were a million to one, even a billion, at least i tried. Sin or virtue, it doesn’t matter. My heart beats and points to one direction: to her.

11:20am

The service ended and the people chatted with each other regarding their concerns and fond memories. I got to talk with the pastor and his wife, I believed I impressed them; but it was not them i wished to impress.

She was talking with her church peers and she looked lovely just standing there. I couldn’t take it anymore, and I stood up and went to the opposite side of the Church, to at least, at least take her off my mind.

I began reading their posters to let my mind drift to a change of pace when her familiar voice changed the silence. I couldn’t look more stupid or ridiculous, the way  I responded. She asked how the service was. I said it was Okay.

Just ok??! it was mind blowing!!! I thought to myself.

Prob’ly Surprised by my answer, she moved away, back into the crowd.

12nn

It was time to go, I kept telling myself. I had to go back to my grandpa since I promised lunch with them. She asked me if I had anything to do for the rest of the day. As always, when she asks me if I was busy, I said no. She invited us to her home, to a place that would take me further. I was tired and without sufficient cash, but what the hell.

The four of us took a trike out to the highway to find a taxi. As we did, she once again asked me how the service was.

As I said before, I said it was okay.

"oh…"

I looked far into the horizon, and said softly"but you made it beautiful, you made me believe."

"what?" she said.

"nothing." I let that one slip me by.

4:something pm. Somewhere in Rizal.

It has been hours since I promised my grandparents lunch.  She and I have barely talked since Church.  Out of nowhere, she asks if she could take a blood sample. Doing nothing, I agreed.

I never liked the idea of needles penetrating my skin. I knew it was gonna hurt, but I still agreed. I trusted her. If that is what needs to be done for her to trust me, then fine. I’m a willing guinea pig.

I closed my eyes as she placed a tourniquet around my arm and tried to think of something to take my mind of the procedure, as I always do.

I never told her that it hurt, but she was confident in what  she did. besides, I was a man. I had to keep it in.

4:something pm.

I went home, walking from her place to "Junction". Took the remainder of the money I had to take a jeep to where 7pesos got me, walking  the rest of the way to the MRT.

I made it back in one piece. well, save for one: I left my heart.

Lois and Ollie go into passed the back door to where the party was.

there were smiles in their faces, giggling as it may seem.

Ollie asks for a kiss, but Lois wouldn’t make it easy for him.

She sees a soda can and places it on top of a dumpster, paces away from where he was.

"hit it with your arrow, and you will have your kiss"

Ollie without hessitation, pulls back on the bow, pauses, and grins.

He lets fly the arrow, sure of its path and the target.

Lois half heartedly hopes it flies far and true

though The arrow lands high, paper thickness from the can.

She approaches Ollie and says "better luck next time" and leaves him for the party

He stays there, admiring what he has done.

The arrow indeed was true to its target.

But it was not the can he wanted.

A kiss so easy would not have been worth it…

It’s the day before enrollment. Its the day before the 1st day of class. Already, you hear things slowing down, before it all accelerates before you.
I’m Listening to "Just A Smile" by Barbie Alamalbis, there’s a bit of sentimentality over there for someone as you brace one’s self for another year. Another year, but, it would be my last, and indeed, my most special here, as a college student. It would be my last playing baseball, something I’ve started playing as a boy at the back of the Ateneo. It would be my last time to kidd myself i’m still a, well, a kid. Last time to be friends with people who, like me, simply don’t know what comes next. Last time to smell the roses and notice that the world, though at times a dark place, seems a beautiful picture to look at.. before everything else accelerates towards the horizon with such ferocity, barely noticing what has passed one by.
Already the rain is starting to fall. Summer is starting to fade and is slowly dying. But there’s no time to mourn that after the next sunrise. you just run as fast as you can, like everything and everyone else.
I once wrote about pushing the sun up, for one last time, to make the summer last a bit longer. I feel i’m alright now; I feel I can now move on.

Four years really isn’t that long… its just four times around the sun.

She’s the second lady that I know that was born with so many similarities with me. both are close to my heart, but one I treat as my sister. the other, someone who i’d want to share precious moments with.

She was born on the same month as I am, behind me only by a week. She and I are both Leos, proud, with a sense of nobility hidden there. Has passionate brown eyes that i would want to fall into.. a laugh that brightens my day, and a personality much like mine, but not quite. She is clumsy, clumsy that is endearing, I can’t help it but smile. She has stories about everything and about nothing, but I don’t really care… I love to hear her talk. She has a name which my heart beats to the sound of it, and makes it race, everytime I think of her. She is energetic, wanting to accomplish so much in such little time but at the same time, really tamad.

She thinks she’s a dork, I think she’s lovely.

She thinks she’s crazy, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

She thinks she’s different. I think more people should be like her.

She thinks she’s no good. I think she’s perfect the way she is.

She thinks she’s not meant for anyone. I think she’s staring at him.

I already miss her. i’m looking at my hand right now, and already, i miss the warmth of your hand. If only I didn’t let it go.

But hope, hope is what guides love. Hope that maybe the next day, I can see that smile again, look into her eyes, laugh at her all-to-corny jokes; and maybe someday, someday, not ever needing to let go of your hand.

My girlfriend Just came from the north of the country, La Union, Ilocos and all that for a photo shoot or something, around last last week and she promised to buy me pasalubong. That pasalubong ended up as being Bagnet, this really crazy pseudo lechon chicharon that I really cant put a grasp on how to describe it. And bloody hell did it taste sooo good!!! Why is it that the (i)locanos know how to make the best tasting food on earth, and, at the same time, know how to create this monstrosity of a dish you fwws to children if they’r bad or if your just plain sadistic, that you call pinakbet? I hate that! no offense meant to the ilocanos, but just stick with making food that give men a good reason to have a heart attack. I wouldn’t mind dying if it meant eating such an enjoyable meal…

At the condo, my padmate and another buddy were drinking Cianti (an italian wine) and enjoying each other’s company. We were debating regarding Love as being rational or irrational in nature when things kinda got heated in a way. I guess someone forgot to lock the door, I suppose because it was bloody hot that early morning (around 2am), because we saw, this old middle-eastern guy which we have never seen at Burgundy, in his silk P.J’s, pop out from his unit  facing ours.  My friend, being polite and all, told my padmate to ask the arab dude if we were a bit too loud and was desturbing his sleep, in which he did. What happened next was kinda weird, at least in my perspective.. the Arabian, which by the way looked deally decent, clean and dignified, said that we didn’t desturb anything, but if we did, it was ok. Then he asked us from what country we were, in which he couln’t believe we were locals. He then said that he was from Iraq. Then asked us what we were taking, and he kinda mentioned that he had a PhD on some science. -ma boka din pala mga Iraki no? Any how, the arab went back to his unit as we bid him goodnight. My buddies and I looked at each other, seeing who would grin and make the first racist joke. "Tahimik na tayo, baka may Scud missiles siya sa Pajamas niya!" hehehe.. but seriously, he really did look kinda decent, and Iraqi or not, I bet he’s a nice guy.

Sigh…. got a 4.0 (perfect in DLSU and ADMU grading system) again for a midterm in speech class. What’s new? This week was fucking hell for me. I made this one paper for a friend for 550 pesos, hell of a good paper that got me exhausted typing… Should have charged him a hell lot more cuz’ he’s guaranteed to get a high score, not to mention 10 pages of single spaced literary masterpiece I wrote in 2 days.. damn… next time, charge more…. like 2000 or something

There is a reason why they call this time of year "hell week". To start things off, I have a presentation which is due next wednesday, got a team to organize for political science presentation on Monday, got to watch this ‘Body’ thing as well for Genders class tomorrow. Fuck. The biggest problem about it is, the group that I have for the Genders presentation and the Political theory thing I have going. Fucking hell are they spoilled bratts! At least in my former block, they were spoilled bratts alright… but spoiled bratts with brains!!! Sigh… There is no order in how they try to get things done. They are just this one crazy mess of kids wearing diapers, sucking on a lollipop, pretending to be adults. Fucking hell. And of all things, they look to me for leadership. Fuck that. I hate being benevolent in this kind of situation, having to depend my grade on these low lifes.. Its a double bind situation I got myself in… Damn if I do help them out cuz’ they’l just parasite my fucking work, and Fuck me as well if I don’t help out cuz’ we all fail. Bloody "special" children with drool all over their faces… In my old block, when we had a project, rarely does it uccur that a person would slack off, out of sheer respect for the team. if ever one should not, like in a team I was with before, we made proper disposal of the member. But hell… its the whole goddamned team… Gimme a gun, and lets make this an individual presentation, if you know what I mean Fucking abnormal children….

For tonight, i’ll just let my hand type away. I know and I trust they will only write the kindest words for my sweet cousin.

My fondest memory of Carol would be around my 8th Birthday at my house. I guess she was too young to remember, but after most of the guests have left, Carol, her Sister Kath and lil’ brother Pepper stayed back at the garage behind the house. I don’t know why I chose to remember this, but I can remember them singing this song about a mother and father (a happy family basically) while picking up earthly ornaments during the dying sun. I thought of her to be a girl of virtue, sweet and nonchalant. Little has changed in her outlook though… To be honest, I lost contact with my cousins after a death in the family. We were, I guess, drawn back as fate would have it. I got to know her quite better the following days. Once, I was brought by my cousin and her family to a chinese resto near Manila Bay. I was so fascinated to learn that she too was left handed ( I am fascinated with left handed people). After all this time, all the birhtdays at our Grandfather’s house, all the slumber parties we had, trips to whathaveyou, I failed to know who my cousin was before that moment. Trivial, it may seem but part of me wanted to redeem that loss and get to know her a little bit more, the way a cousin should know one another. I learned alot that day, to say the least; in turn, I learned a thing or two about myself as well. She is now almost 20 years young. She just entered U.P. I know she is full of dreams and aspirations..She’s a flower in full bloom. rather she is more like the rising sun: full of energy, progressive like the dawn of a new day. without taking anything away,I envy her youth. Reminds me of who I was when I started off. I really love it, whenever I suddenly drop by at my grand parent’s house in project six, when my grandpa and grandma would tell fantastic stories about her and ROTC. stories of how she would be the onlyone texting jokes to my grandpa. They make me smile but I am not at one bit at least surprised. After all, it is in our blood to be every single bit that way. The only thing I can offer her though would be some of the wisdom I have gained, being a few years older. I have gained wisdom from her being a few years younger than I am. Be proud, Keep your chin up. Always reach for the stars.. i’ll be waiting for you there. (",) Now a few years older, you are still that vertuous, sweet and charming little girl picking up earthly treasures in my backyard, singing those songs you sing. Ciao!

I was rushing to go to my last class today, doing my usual "shit, i’m gonna be late for class" sprint-walk thru the all but too familiar south gate, I found someone totally unexpected. An old buddy of mine before I left for work. He’s now graduated and is now working at an exclusive school for ladies in Pasig. we talked for a while, fond memories, reminicing about the old days and such. Then we parted ways. That same thing is almost routinal now for me but with different people. A highschool friend, a younger cousin, other blockmates… If you are asking me if I am jealous, I most definitely am. What I would give to have this thing over with and have a life that is mine, and mine alone. Can’t really help but feel left behind. But another question is if I’m willing to give up enjoying college life, to push the sun up still for one more day of summer to enjoy my youth.. I would not give it up. Am I a vain and selfish man? I want the satisfaction of finally getting this "thing" over with at the same time,taking the time to enjoy the scenery of "life" as well. I have felt the dreary emptiness of the corporate world. but it calls me, becons me still, like a bad habit or vice. I have lost alot of my innocence in my time out of school. I have learnt things that I should not yet know… I kinda know what it felt like for Neo from the Matrix. To suddenly lose your safety blanket and surface to a world not your own. You wish of taking the blue pill instead now that you know how ugly and uncouth the world actually is. I want to pretend even for a while. Sooner or later it will come to get me… eventually… I want the chance, once again, to savour what other people simply pass by.

          It is dark and cloudless outside..I hear the music playing in the background and everyone is (seems to be) waiting for me at this one sublime yet meaningless party . I can hear them but I turn my back on them for just a moment and act as if I couldn’t.. I look at the stars looking for a sign…. I light up a cig and slowly watch the embers waste it away… crush whatever’s left under the weight of my foot and sigh… It is time to face society.. time to face responsibilty… and like so many before me… It’s time to face the music

In the better part of the year, it is only now that I have slept with a sense of peace. A peace that I could not find at my house, nor at the condo. Of all the places I have found comfort in, it is not on a magnificent bed but rather a shabby tattered matress. My spirit is calm and my soul is at rest. While others take comfort in finding that "more" to fill whatever gap they have in their lives, the way I’ve did in the past, it is actually that void, that nothingness that provides this animal the serenity it needs. I wish I was the first person to think of that kind of perspective though… Zen, or more specific Musashi Minamoto’s "book of 5 rings" beat me to the punch by at least 500 years. Whoever came first, I am at peace with myself for even this short period of time.

It will be lunch soon. I will probably take my leave from my grand parent’s house right after taking part in the meal and head towards taft ave. Tomorrow is another day of challenges, but I don’t want to think about it yet. Today is Sunday, and save for going to mass, it is the best day of the week, being so slow… and I want to savour it minute by ever passing minute. I don’t want to think about that paper that is due on Wednesday for genders, that church involvement I missed for Rels2, or that informative speech I have not started on for Engeltri… Shit, I just did. Breath, Raffy, Breath….. The week is just about to end, or rather, about to begin, depends on how you look at it, hope you guys take it slow as well as to burning out your body, and most importantly your spirits. Happy weekend.