Makabagong Eva

“Libereyted?”

Ang lalaki, may libog sa katawan. Kahit saan mo dilaan- sa titi, bayag, kahit sa tenga lang, mapapaikot mo na.

Ako nga pala si Trudi. Gertrude and pangalang bigay ng Nanay ko. ‘Tang ina, pangalan ‘ata ng matandang Amerikana yun ah. Ang barkada ko ang nagbigay sa akin ng bagong pangalan. Baduy daw kasi ang Gertrude, parang losyang ang dating, ang Trudi bagets ang dating.

Isa pa lang ang naging boyfriend ko, pero marami na akong naka-sex. Ilan? Di ko na mabilang. Ewan ko ba kung bakit pinagbabawal ang sex. Masarap naman ‘di ba?

Fourth year High School ako ng una kong maranasan yun. Katatapos lang ng CAT drill namin, nagpunta ako sa T.H.E. room para magbihis.

“Trudi.”

Napalingon ako. Si Mike, classmate ko.

Bigla kong tinakpan ang harapan ko. “Ano ka ba pre? Nagbibihis ako!”

Hindi siya nagsalita, lumapit lamang ito at bigla akong hinalikan sa labi. Ayoko sana pero tinablan na ako. Hinawakan niya ang kamay ko at pinahawak sa harapan ng pantalon nya. Leche. Matapos nun wala na akong nagawa. Masarap siyang humalik, at hinahaplos niya ang katawan ko.

Sa maruming sahig ng classroom, ihiniga ako ni Mike. Dalawang beses namin ginawa- mabuti pa sulitin na habang meron, sabi ko pa.

Tapos nun, halos araw-araw kaming nagtatalik. Nung College, sa lungsod na ako nag-aral kaya din a kami nagkikita. Di naman ibig sabihin na wala na akong action, ‘no? Marami yata akong naging text-mate. Text-mate sa umaga, sex-mate sa gabi.

Ewan ko ba. Sabi nila mali ang makipag-sex pag hindi pa kasal. Sabi ko naman, enjoy while you can, diba? Tutal, marami din naming mga kinakasal na naghihiwalay. Gastos lang yung kasal-kasal na yan.


“Moral?”


I’m Anne. Dean’s Lister, Student Council President, and a St. Peter devotee. I was raised Catholic and I’ve studied in Catholic schools all my life. Every Sunday I go to St. Peter’s with my parents and little brother (He’s sooo cute!). We ride in Daddy’s shiny new BMW, and have lunch at a chic restaurant after the Holy Mass. Oh, you should see us!

I’ve always been a responsible honor student. I say “Please” and “Thank you”, and always observe the right conduct- in school, at home, and everywhere else.

My boyfriend happens to be the heartthrob of the school. He’s smart, rich, and had good grades when he studied in the seminary. We never had sex (though we fooled around a couple of times, but I’m sure that doesn’t count!) but our love is so perfect! There is a cloud lurking in my horizon, though.

Next week, our school starts community extension program. Ewww! It’s such a gross-fest to be around filthy squatter people. Like, hello! Ever heard of soap? It’s the government’s fault, why we still have these people around!

Our instructor says we should be one with them…he must be crazy!! Yuck! I really can’t keep a straight face around people who smell bad. There was this scantily clad woman in our initial visit at the Barangay Hall- she looked like a prostitute! So dirty! It was like she was sleeping with everybody who worked there. She acted so nice, as if she’s a clean woman. Yuck! I dread going back to that stinkhole of a place.


“Mapagmahal?”


Malena ang pangalan ko, at isa akong kerida. Tama ang narinig mo, kerida ako. Bakit, may reklamo ka?

Haler! Hindi ko naman pinangarap ko ‘to ano? Nakilala ko si Tony nung waitress ako dun sa club. Madalas siya dun, malungkot ata. Limang taon na siya kasal sa Misis niya, pero sa abroad nagtratrabaho bilang Titser.

Ka-table niya si Marie, pero ipinatawag niya ako. Sinunggaban ko na ano? Ang hirap kaya mag-waitress. Palaging nakatayo. E pag i-table ka, me kita ka na, di ka pa pagod!

Valentine’s Day nun nung sinagot ko sya. O ‘di ba ang saya? Di ‘ata araw-araw na may gwapong engineer na nanliligaw sa akin. Tutal wala pa naman silang anak, Ok lang siguro yun. Hmmph, kung alam ko lang, may iba nang lalaki ang asawa nun!

Ibinahay na ako ni Tony. Pero pag-umuuwi ang Misis nya, halos di kami nagkikita. Ok lang, basta ginagastusan ako. Malay natin, baka iwan niyang tuluyan ang asawa niya at ako ang pakasalan.

“Hay naku Malena, ang gaga mo talaga! Ang gaga ko talaga…”

Women are from Venus, Men are from Pluto

The woman said:

“Speak to me with thine eyes.”

Her robe flows like the wind, crimson and wild. Her hair twists like serpents, and the moon casts a pale glow on her face.

“Let your love consume my spirit and send me not from your side. The North Winds may blow as time continues to pass. The trees may wither, and the earth tremble, but I shall linger.”

The pyramids whispered softy into the night. The goddess walks and raises her arms to the skies.


“I want to paint your face in the stars. Embrace the soft breeze as it caresses my body. I want to be yours eternally.”

The man said:

“And I wanna see you in a thong!”

Anonymous

The place was dimly lit from the outside, with barely a sign that announced its presence. I was with my rather jaded friend, who knew every corner of this bath house like the back of his hand. It was my first time.

“Three hundred for the membership.” The guy behind the glass partition said snappishly, checking me out from head to toe. I got uncomfortable. I nudge my friend.

“Two memberships for a month, please.”

“That’s six hundred in all.” He hands us two small cards and a bleeding pen for us to use.

I looked at my friend questioningly. He nods. I nervously filled out the tiny card, changing the spelling of my last name and using my nickname instead of my real name. I had this silly thought that people might dig this up later when they look for dirt, and that would be a blow to my reputation. I giggled at my use of the term “blow”. Oh boy.

“What’s so funny?” My friend asks.

“Nothing.”

My friend leads me to this small hallway with the wall covered with glass shelves with locks on them. We hand the bouncer our valuables- cellphone, wallet, and my keys. Then they make us sign a log book, and then give us each a tiny key.

“What are these for?”

“You’ll see.”

We get to this empty bar, with only a lonely bartender drying glasses with a white cloth. He smiles and hands us two bottles of San Mig Light.

“The place is empty, and it’s past eleven already!” I sit at the bar. And reluctantly took a swig. “Where are all the people?”

“Finish your drink so we can go downstairs.” My friend says.

I notice a stairway at the far end of the room. Two guys emerge from the stairway, one was heavyset and thirty-ish, the other was lean and younger. They were holding hands.

My gaze followed as they made their way to the corridor. The younger guy meets my gaze and winks at me.
To be continued..

The Past, Revisited

Posting my CV made me realize how much things have changed for me after I decided to quit my job two years ago. Take for instance the last essay I wrote began with, “There I was, with six pesos in my pocket, weak from fever and cough, and my eyes squinting from the noonday sun.” Was this the same person who ate reports and action plans for breakfast, with a never ending lust for promotion?

Philosophically, I’ve always insisted that I’ve grown and matured since then, and that material things don’t matter much anymore. But they do, actually. My scruffy shoes, a hand-me-down watch from my younger brother, pants with rips on the linings (not the sexy deconstructed look, but something that came as a result of two years wear and tear, I’m afraid), my reconditioned cellular phone with the cracked LCD, and my cheap haircut doesn’t exactly spell out elegance.

I suppose starting over and getting a new career direction is never easy, I just wish there was a sign for me that I’ve indeed made the right decision. I should be thankful for the new chances given to me, yet somehow I can’t help how I feel. Sometimes, late at night, I still get to think what my life would have been if I’d just stuck around at INFO. Would I have made it as ACCM by now?

If there is a remote control that would fast-forward everything now, I’d use it. In the meantime, I have to make the most out of what’s here for me- I know that. Believe me, each day I chant to myself that this will all work out, and one day I’d be strong and independent again- not just for my sake but for my family’s. Let’s face it, my parents are in their fifties already, and it’s time for my brothers and me to take care of them.

All is not lost, I suppose. The skills I had still remain, and perhaps new ones have been added. I should feel good about that, actually. Nevertheless, a part of me still yearns for the old me in my days as a TM- strong, confident, and a go-getter, certainly no amateur at the work I did. Late at night, I still hear myself scream in my mind: “I want my power back!”

The Hanged Man

The Hanged Man

by Thad Hinunangan

I hang beneath these gallows
Naked and wounded,
I bid thee to ease my pain.
The wintry air chills my bones
And the moon mocks my misery.

Oh, how I ache for you.
Wash my wounds,
Take me into your arms,
And comfort me.

The hour is late,
And the birds have ceased to sing.
There is only silence,
And darkness.

Under the fading stars
I tremble.
I whisper your name
On my last breath,
As I finally closed my eyes.

Leap of Faith or Foolishness?

There I was, with six pesos in my pocket, weak from fever and cough, and my eyes squinting from the noonday sun. I miraculously survived the three-day Midterm Examinations, and was currently facing a larger predicament.

Catastrophe: Our budget for the month of January ran out, and it had been three days already since my grandmother last took her medication. I needed to buy her meds, fast.

Disaster: Both Mama and Papa were unreachable through e-mail and SMS, and I no longer had enough balance in my phone to make a call.

Tragedy: The LPG gas also ran out, and the Electric and Telephone bills were already overdue.

Crisis: The people at the publishing house called, they wanted the 70 copies of the cover to be printed and delivered to them today. The owner also asked if I could add some more money to the 4,000 pesos I’ve already deposited.

I get a grip on my frayed nerves and swallowed my anxiety. I walked slowly to the pawnshop and discretely slipped my grandmother’s earrings into the appraiser’s hands. I looked around nervously, hoping no one would see me.

“One thousand five hundred.” She says.

I nodded and proceeded to sign the documents. What a lousy way to spend my post-Midterms weekend, I thought.

I walked slowly on the pavement as I made my way to the drugstore. Why, why did I decide to push through with the whole mass printing of my book? I cursed silently at the foolishness of my decision. I wouldn’t have been in this predicament now.

The past week, I made and sold 8 copies- I printed and photocopied them myself, cut them, took them to the book binding place, and designed the cover. A lot of people from school, the place where I printed the book, and some readers of my blog were asking if they could have a copy. I decided if I were to make more copies, I had to get help.

“Fifty copies minimum at 150 per book. We are offering you a cheaper alternative because we’ll use Risograph for the production.”

“Sir, how much do I have to pay to get started?”

“Up to you.”

I gave him the last of my money, and the electronic file of the manuscript.

Foolish.

And then he calls me up the following day to inform me they need to make at least a hundred copies for the Riso. I told them I could not afford it.

“How about 75 copies?”

“80.”
Reluctantly, I agreed. Crazy, crazy boy.

After buying my grandmother’s medications, I went to Paperworld to buy some laser-compatible paper for the cover. I chose the cheaper ones now, instead of photopaper, which used to print the covers in.

I took them to the printers to have the 70 covers printed. While the machine hummed as the paper was being fed to the printer, I’ve got to thinking again of my blind faith in my work. There was absolutely no guarantee I’d actually get the money back, let alone make a small profit. The opinion of the first eight people could be wrong, I reminded myself, and some people are going to laugh in my face for sure. But I’ll never know until I try it.

With virtually no money, physically exhausted, and with low spirits, I said a silent prayer, and hoped for a miracle.

Unwrapped.
First customers.

As of now, the book is going under review by Lit Professors in LNU, SSCHS, EVSU, and hopefully by Ma'am Alunan in UP Tac.