Maglalakad ako sa lugar na malayong-malayo sa hallway nang una tayong nagkita, o sa kuwarto na una kong sinabi sa'yong mahal kita, o sa lugar na nag-away tayo at iniwan mo ako, o sa hallway (ulit) kung saan hindi tayo nagpansinan. Maglalakad ako na parang walang pakialam na nakikinig lang sa aking iPod (na siguro naman ay maa-afford ko na), at doon ka lilitaw mula sa kawalan at babanggain mo ako (na parang nasa pelikula), matatapon sa daan ang mga dala mo kasama na ang iPod ko, at magagalit ka at sisigaw at magmumura.

Hihinto ka bigla, matitigilan ka dahil nakangiti lang ako, at makikilala mo ako, mapapangiti ka na parang hindi makapaniwala, at tatanungin mo kung ako nga ba iyon. Pagkatapos ay tutulungan kitang kolektahin ang mga gamit mo, lalabas tayo sa lugar na iyon, at siguro ay yayayain kitang magkape, o magyosi, o maglakad hanggang ngalayin ang mga paa natin. Magkukuwentohan tayo tungkol sa nakaraan, at malalaman mong single ako at malalaman kong single ka rin (o kahit na may anak ka pa), tatawa ka at tatawa ako, at makakalimutan mo na ako ang pinakamumuhian mong tao noong nasa college pa tayo.

Makikilala kita muli at makikilala mo ako muli, susunduin kita araw-araw, tatawagan kita gabi-gabi, at lalabas tayo every weekend (kahit na everyday), hanggang sa mahulog uli ang loob mo sa akin. Tapos magso-sorry ako sa'yo (in person na ngayon), at (siguro naman) mapapatawad mo na ako ng totohanan. Aaminin ko sa iyong mahal pa rin kita after all these years (cross my heart), at napaka-gago at napakatanga ko para hayaan kang umalis sa buhay ko, at kung paanong halos mabaliw ako sa pangungulila sa'yo; hihingi ako ng second chance, at mangangakong babawi ako sa'yo araw-araw hanggang sa ako'y uugod-ugod na sa tanda at bawian ng hininga.

Aalukin kita ng kasal, dahil doon din naman pupunta iyon at alam kong wala na akong makikita at mamahalin pang ibang tulad mo (pero siyempre willing akong maghintay), at tatanggapin mo ang alok ko, at buong-sabik mong sasabihing mahal mo rin ako, at ako ang magiging pinamasayang gago sa buong mundo. Pakakasal tayo at iimbitahin natin ang lahat ng taga-Pilipinas para malaman nila kung gaano ako kasuwerte at mamamatay sila lahat sa inggit; tapos magtatayo tayo ng malaking bahay tabing dagat, o kahit na sa gitna ng bulkan, at magpa-pamilya ng kalahating dosena, and will live happily ever after.

The end.

Bigla akong naalimpungatan dahil sa biglang tawanan ng mga puchang ka-boardmate kong nagsusugal pa rin kahit disoras na ng gabi; tahimik kong minura ang sarili ko dahil nananaginip na naman ako ng gising, kasama ang malalim na buntong-hininga dahil hindi na nga pala ako ang mahal mo at kasalo sa mga pangarap mo. Maghihilamos na lang, magtitimpla ng kape, o magyoyosi, titingala ng konti sa buwan, magtatanong kung magiging tayo pa rin kaya?; at babalik na lang sa pagbabasa ng Med-Surg, na may panlulumo, dahil kailangan ko pang pumasa ng Board.

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A deja vu of my last year's tendencies for futile daydreaming and emotional masochism.

It was not a cold night. Not a night in Cebu ever was, rather stricken with thickness of humidity. But I was shivering, as well as my companions, inside a taxi as we headed back to the city. We were thoroughly soaked from the party, our clothes hung to our bodies, and the airconditioner incessently blasted in front of us as if it were the north winds. We sat in the back, the four of us, like quivering penguins. She was leaning forward, muttering something to her cousin who was cramped in front with another one of her cellphone-crazed friends, in such a way that the her pyjama-looking pants slid beneath and revealed the small of her back and her rather colorful panties. She is as carefree as that, or indifferent, so much like a child. I did not call her attention to it. There was no need, no was else was there to see, except for me perhaps. There were red hearts printed on it, and blue bears, and - Damn it. I closed my eyes instead, slightly tilted my head, and pretended to fall asleep. Later, I felt a gentle weight upon my chest, or half of it, and the warmth a bliss from the frigid airconditioning. She leaned back comfortably against me, and snugly nestled her head on my shoulders. Through half open eyes, I watched the streetlights outside pass by us, and the stars seem to be more brightly aglow behind the clear moonlit night sky.

I mentioned to RB (my high school buddy who is accompanying me for the review), during a lunch of siomai (again) and soggy leche flan, that I'm going home to Butuan next week to vote, on election day. This seem to be a queer thing to him, but for me and my family it's a civil and also (became) a 'spiritual' obligation. In truth, I don't care or give a shit, as it were, to politics anymore. The political scene in our nation is sick (especially in Butuan), and it's beyond help, like a cancer in its terminal stage. Like when he asked me: Mudawat ka bay? Meaning if I ever recieved bribes. He asked it in such a casual way as if he's been doing it every election. I stared at him. Of course, how naive of me.

I told him I've never considered and never will.

For all the things we have in common, RB and I, we differ in principles (like all friends I guess). He has a penchant for, like all people in our economic stature, counterfeit things. I don't. I like stuff that aren't built Chinese sindicates that break down within a month of use and is choking the life out of legitimate businesses worldwide. While my indifference to politics is borne from hopelessness, his enthusiasm for it roots from a financial point of view. He told me with fervor, as if he believed that I was going to be very interested, that there are three candidates running for mayorship - more people to give out money. For him, this would mean money for the trip back if he ever decided to go back home with me. Ha! Apparently, there are a lot of people who look forward to this.

'It's your loss if you don't take the money', he said. Come to think about it, maybe politics is not the problem. His statement said it all. People, I guess, especially when cash is pretty damn hard to come by - they become so short-sighted. It's okay to buy cheap pirated CDs, who gives a shit about the people who composed the music? It's okay to sell your votes, who gives a rat's ass what'll happen to us in four years? Or eight years? Or ten years from now? We, as a race, are bound to be doomed anyway, with all the green house gases and the impending ice age, the war, the deminishing oil reserves (which may be a good thing), the fast-disappearing forests and wildlife, right?

So I'd go home next week to vote, and no, I'm not going to sell out. I don't think it'll worth anything though. It's the same political dynasty in Butuan anyway, they're all families down there because the founding pioneers of Butuan probably got drunk one night and had one big orgy. I'd vote Hitler if he'd resurrect his Nazi ass and run for mayor, at least he was honest, I told him. RB laughed.

I was in a jeepney, trying to make my way home - with strangers, a fat lady strangling a chiken, a couple shamelessly grooming each other, and a preacher throwing a sermon upon his own imaginary crowd. He was clutching his bag to his chest, the preacher, and absent-mindedly staring at the person beside me, it seemed, and muttering about divinity and the end of days. The others were smiling, straining not to laugh, while others were indifferent, the couple just stared, as his voice rose above the sounds of people and traffic. I stepped out in front of Robinson's, beneath the traffic lights, away from faceless strangers, from overly-romantic couples, and the insane slouched figure, monotonously muttering still, between them.

I went to the PRC, early this week, to register for the Board examination. It was weird, surrendering my ID card, half of my identity. Reluctantly, I did. Through spastic hands, I did. Through gritting teeth, I did. There's no turning back now. There's, at least, the prospect for a new beginning. I always liked that phrase, 'to begin anew'. It's just up to me, I guess. Heh, I hope it's something I won't regret -because I still have that feeling, like a malignant fiend, eyeing me from somewhere.