Fwd Msg # 3

This was forwarded to someone I know.







"The best feeling in the world is when you finally realize that you're perfectly happy without the thing you thought you needed the most."





---

But "happiness" is never satiated. It is in human nature to seek more and more happiness.

Contentment is the best feeling in the world, especially when that contentment is brought about by the thing you know you need the most. That is where real happiness resides.

Furigana: 光

hikari
light


「一番」
昼間は太陽が夜は月が光を与えるくれる。
Hiruma wa taiyou ga yoru wa tsuki ga hikari ataeru kureru.
The sun gives light by day, and the moon by night.

「二番」
しかし真理を行うものは、光の方に来る。
Shikashi shinri wo okonau mono wa, hikari no kata ni kuru.
But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light.

質問がありますか？
Shitsumon ga arimasu ka?
Do you have any questions?
「一番」の質問
「二番」の質問

The Wind Encloses Me in Its Endearing Embrace (Beginnings and Endings Under a Starless Sky: Second Stasis)

"Time flies so fast, but it stagnates in the most difficult periods of life."

---

Last Thursday, Block N had some sort of a final (hopefully not yet) get together for the year. Some of us would be parted from the block for an entire year, since they would be with their JTA Blocks. The day started nicely, but it ended in me pouring my whole soul out in tears in front of Ding. So much for a happy get together for me, I guess.

Nelvin, along with Meki, Raisa, Ding, EJ, Raf, and Thomas picked me up at home. I wanted Nelvin to drop by because I didn't want to bring around the documents (specifically the blank check) he would be giving me since I would be the one proxying him for summer reg. After that, we went to Katipunan to pick up Mika, and after which we went to Sta. Lucia to bowl, where Gillian, Jam, and Yanyan were supposed to meet with us.

All of us were hungry. So we decided (no, actually someone did) to take a quick snack in Wendy's. But when we arrived there, I was not able to decide right away what I would eat. I was having an internal conflict since I am kuripot and did not know what to eat at the same time. As I stood there in front of the counter thinking of what to eat, people came flooding in. The line grew longer and longer, and I went outside and watched the fountains since I was still unable to resolve the kakuriputan that was going on inside of me. But when I started gazing downwards on the fountains, my brain instantly got filled with memories of the past. My consciousness started to wane as I delved deeper and deeper into those memories, until Meki approached me and snapped me out of the trance I was engaging myself with.

I ordered a large Burger Bacon Mushroom Melt combo, but to tell the truth, I was completely disappointed. That Burger Bacon Mushroom Melt wasn't the one I know years back. The buns were just regular ones, and the size shrank as if it underwent some kind of weight loss plan. It wasn't the same obese burger with soft buns encased in a styrofoam container. Well, at least menially it satisfied my hunger, enough for me not to feel the uncomfortable lurching of my stomach, imploring me to eat so it could digest something. After we ate, we went to the bowling lanes where we waited for a little while before Gillian, Jam, and Yanyan arrived.

It was my first time to play bowling. I always threw the heavy 12-pound bowling ball I was using to the gutter. Raf told me to make the ball my center of gravity at the moment I was about to release the ball to the lane. Ding told me to straighten my arm as I release the ball and not to point to the gutter. Well, no wonder I was always throwing fences. After those tips, I felt the rhythm somehow and started to bowl better. I scored a 97 with two consecutive strikes (well, only one was within my frame since Mika gave up).

It was fun to see everyone play. We would cheer whenever someone would get a strike or score a spare, and we would "sayang!" if the ball came so close to the last pin standing. It was also fun to see Gillian's super reverse spin technique, Nelvin's kneeling ball release (termed as St. Ignatius by Meki I think), Meki's freezing stance when she throws the ball, the professional approaches and releases of Raf, Ding, and Raisa, Mika's efforts to score successfully, and Jam's and Yan's laughs whenever they topple a pin down. We had a very nice time. Every one of us were just smiling and smiling since all of us were enjoying each and every moment that all of us were together.

We picked up Kara at Mini Stop before we went to EJ's place.

When we got there, Nelvin told all of us to go upstairs already since the ramps of the parking building were steep. But I stayed along since parking on the 7th floor isn't fun especially when the levels before that were virtually empty of cars. When Nelvin turned off the engine of his Adventure, I asked him if he could carry my bag to where the others was since I wanted to go somewhere else first. He agreed, and I accompanied him to the elevator.

I went to the rooftop. It was where I felt the wind envelop me in its chilly embrace. The wind rekindled memories that were deeply rooted in my heart. I was soon blurry-eyed with tears making my vision hazy, but the images that were filling my head were as clear as the moment they happened. I desperately questioned myself over and over and over again why everything has to happen, and why everything that I valued the most had to be that way. I sat by the ledge and raised my arms to embrace the wind as well, but all that remained were empty hopes which I continued to believe in because there was nothing else left but memories.

And then, a tear escaped my desperate attempt to remain strong.

At around 7pm, we ate dinner. It was weird that there were moments wherein no one was talking. Only the noise of spoons and forks, the monotonous hums of the electric fans, the splashes from the pool, and the occasional voices of people nearby were heard. After eating, others played Uno Stacko, while Yanyan beat me to a pulp in Tekken 5 (1-11, and his controller had a defect). Raf and the others played Guitar Hero afterwards, and I unconsciously asked Ding to leave and have a talk. I really did not know why I did that since I wanted to play Guitar Hero as well.

I told her that things looked as if they would never be alright again. She told me it looked that way, since she can look at it from both sides. It was just then that I told her that life is very, very, very unfair.

"Napakaunfair naman kasi ng buhay eh. I tried so hard to fight everything, pero parang walang nangyayari. Sinasabi nilang hindi ko raw iniintindi ang feelings ng iba, eh yun nga ang lagi kong ginagawa for over three months now. Nung time na nagpakita ako ng weakness kasi hindi ko na talaga kaya kasi hirap na hirap na talaga ako, yun pa ang nakita nila. Hindi ko naman ginustong mangyari ito... Gusto ko lang talagang maging katulad ng dati..."

And it was about that time when Ding dawned on me that they weren't sure if I'm still a friend to them or not. I cannot put into words what pain it dealt to me. All along, they are still my best friends, no matter what happened. I had been fighting to stay alive and be happy for them. It turns out I was fighting and struggling for nothing. I perpetually asked myself if that was the end of two friendships which have kept me strong and happy through the most difficult times.

Is it true that everything will end now?

Ding patiently comforted me. She kept reassuring me that she and the others would always be there when I needed them. I know, I know they would be there for me. I know that. I always knew that. Thank you for that.


"Ang baso bang butas, gagamitin mo?"
"Hindi."
"Hindi, unless lalagyan ng tape."

"Ang baso bang butas na tinakpan, gagamitin mo ba miski na meron namang basong hindi butas?"
"Hindi."
"Hindi, unless special yung baso na yun..."

I climbed once more to the rooftop. I literally covered my eyes to stop my tears from falling. Once I got there, I immediately looked at the sky.

It still remained starless like before.

I climbed the cold, steel railings and stood there. I slowly lifted my arms and tried to embrace the wind once more. The wind blew stronger and stronger, making me fall backward into the cold concrete floor. As I lied there, the wind gently enveloped me once again in its endearing embrace. It rekindled all the memories that were deeply rooted in my heart, but it took away all the happiness that was remaining inside of me. Blown by the wind, the hope of a better tomorrow slowly vanished into the distant horizon, but I remained there, stranded under a starless sky, embracing memories that mean everything to me.

Semester's Over, Summer Takes Over (Beginnings and Endings Under a Starless Sky: First Stasis)

Well, maybe not exactly.

The sem will be officially be over once I write my critique paper about the database system of the graduate students. The sem will actually end once I convert that document into a PDF file and submit it online in Moodle on or before 11:59pm of March 29, 2008.

This sem was quite difficult for me for a myriad of reasons, not all I wish to say. But I am still amazed on how my grades did not suffer during those times of great struggle. Looking back, I went to school for the first time last November with doubt about my new profs saturating every part of my body, and I end the sem with the same magnitude of uncertainty, but this time, all that doubt points to the person I see every time I look in the mirror.

I will certainly miss Dr. Felix Muga, our Ma124 and Ma125 professor. For ten months worth of schooldays, I only listened to his monotonous voice and occasional laugh or giggle for only about three weeks or so: the first week of Ma124 and the first two weeks of Ma125. I will miss his unending patience, greatly exemplified during the times when only two or three students were intently listening to his book-taken (meaning confusing and ineffective) examples on Djikstra's Shortest Path Algorithm and Rings and Subrings. He never got angry and raised his tone even if most of us played Minesweeper, Text Twist, Desktop TD, 4 Second Frenzy and some more other games from addictinggames or wherever, blog-hopped, looked which basketball team won, and did other activities requiring a soundcard-less PC and an active internet connection. I admire his efforts to always be prepared for class, even if most of us do not give a damn about the lesson because it holds no practical application in life. I mean, you cannot possibly weigh your life and run a Python program for Kruskal's or Prim's algorithms, right?

I will certainly miss as well Ms. Isa Nazareno, my Hi16 prof. Her demeanor very much generated respect from all of us. Even if her teaching style was plain lectures with supplementary powerpoint presentations, she always had our attention (especially the time when we were discussing the Tang Dynasty were eunuchs proliferated). Well, it could be the fact that she resembles Rica Peralejo, or at least she does in my opinion. Thanks for the generosity of giving out a lot of extra credit activities during the whole semester. I will miss my histo classmates as well. I hope we bump each other somewhere in the campus sometimes and toss each other a hi or a hello, a vigorous wave, an acknowledging nod, a tap at the back or somewhere not private, and a happy smile.

I will miss Sir Toto Oppus and Sir Tristran Calasanz, my profs in Ps140. I will always remember their patience, Sir Toto in his lectures and Sir Tris in helping us in our breadboards and the circuitry laid in it. I will always remember as well Sir Toto's generosity and concern in giving out bonus points because he wanted for all of us to get a high mark in the lecture part of Ps140, and the enthusiasm of Sir Tris as he always wanted for us to enjoy what we were doing. Both of them shared a lot of things not related to the subject at all, and both of them always put up a very nice atmosphere around them as they always smiled.

I will wholeheartedly miss Ma'am Jess Sugay, my prof in CS122. I look up her efforts to still to go class and teach us patiently even if she's sick with the flu or even if she's loaded with projects in her masters. I will always go back to the excitement of each off-topic quiz. I might forget the syntax in SQL for finding the most expensive purchase of someone of some particular book of a specific category by some author in some database, but I will never forget the experience of being a student of a very fun, entertaining, approachable, and kind prof. We treat her like a friend, but we never forget that she is still our teacher in Database Systems. And yes, her cookies taste really good.

I will also miss Sir Francis Torres, our coach in Fencing. I will never forget his very nice smile which eases the pain of staying in a low on-guard position for several advances and retreats or eases the difficulty of a proper hop-lunge-recovery. I will miss holding a left-handed foil even if I'm not ambidextrous, spraying mask number 12 with Lysol before and after I wear it, and dueling one another. Poke poke poke. I will also miss Kuya Francis and Ate Irene, assistants of Sir Torres. I will miss the dance they choreographed for the culminating activity.

And yes, in some way, I will miss Dr. Tess Perez and her assistant Sir Perry too. I am still amazed that my grade in Sci10 is a B+, even if my quizzes and tests weren't all that great, or even good.

---

Summer beckons me to approach its arid touch. I can feel laziness starting to consume me right this very moment. I ask myself if I am ready for a new beginning and leave, but not forget, the past. As my consciousness spaces out several times in rapid succession, I fight my way to regain control and stay sane.

A seemingly endless sem is finally over and a summer which was thought never to arrive is already in my reach. Yet I still remain standing, seemingly stranded, under a starless sky.

Fwd Msg # 2

"words don't have power
over you..





unless,





..the person who said
them means a lot to
you.."

Silently Hoping Under a Starless Sky

We went to Bulacan yesterday.

It has been long since my last trip there. Well, maybe not very long, but long enough for me to feel nostalgic and yearn for things I have enjoyed doing in the unpolluted dirt roads and in the fresh, comforting winds of Sta. Maria. Besides, each week that has passed turned out to be progressively slower than the week before. I just can't understand why, and I think I'm not doing anything to understand why. Maybe I am actually doing something, but maybe for a different purpose and reason.

This can't be happening all over again. It just can't happen again.

I asked Mamie if we would be staying in Lola's house this time. She said yes.

Thoughts immediately entered my secluded mind. I did not want to go there since I really did not like the people in Bayan. I did not want to mingle with all those relatives of mine. And for one thing, I lacked several hours of sleep, and there is no cool, silent place in Bayan to take a quick shuteye. I'd rather stay in Sta. Cruz and spend the whole day snoozing in the room of my cousin, waking up only to eat or to visit the can. But there was nothing I could do since it was the birthday of Ninong Ador, and all of us were obliged (or probably forced) to go there.

When we arrived, I immediately looked for Lola and kissed her. Of course, I took the right hand of each of my titos and titas and gently touched them with my forehead, stooping lowly in the process. Since everyone was obliged (or forced) to go, it took me about more than ten whole minutes just to respect and recognize my elders. Yes, the family of Mamie is quite big, compared to that of Dadee's.

I find myself always going to the old, wooden house of Tita Susan whenever I go to Lola's compound. I remember the times when my cousins and I were still little. They would play Street Fighter on Jerome's SNES under the shade of Tita Susan's kaimito tree. I remember I never joined because I just always lost. All of us would sleep there on the cold floor or on the hard, wooden flooring upstairs whenever we would have a vacation there. When we were a little older, Tito Ben gave us a PlayStation. Kuya Omel would play Resident Evil amidst the darkness of the room. We would always watch him play that game, and we would not be able to sleep unless the lights were on. Tita Susan's bathroom remained unchanged for over thirteen or so years. It is still the same shabbily covered 1x1 square meter enclosure connected to their dining area and kitchen. The holes in the yero are still present, and towels are still used to block body parts from curious, peeping eyes. I remember times when I faithfully updated my quiz chart while I sat by the window in Tita Susan's simple sala, being feasted on by mosquitoes. A lot of nostalgic things came rushing to my memory as I looked on each and every one of us, all grown up and living our lives differently from before. A lot of memories came flooding into my mind as I looked around Tita Susan's old, wooden home which is a testament to many tropical storms and numerous shouts, yells, and misunderstandings. Things that I have become sensitive of momentarily dissipated from my being as I felt the warmth of the atmosphere which has embraced many moments of happiness, love, and contentment.

Is my simple life before better than my trapped existence now?

Later that day, all of us indulged in a gallon of Double Dutch ice cream sponsored by Dada. Diane's excuse was she passed her battery exam, and that proved to be successful in getting P300.00 from Dada. I ate ice cream like never before. I don't exactly know how or why I felt that way, but maybe because I just simply missed everyone in Bulacan. I missed my cousins, my titos and titas, and the places full of both happy and sad memories I grew up in.

Or maybe because I felt free in some way or another.

Before we left, Mamie took this picture (of Kuya Omel, Jom, Kuya, Diane, me, and Ate) that she will send to Tito Ben who now lives in New Jersey.


I was happy.

On the way home, I started to feel more and more nostalgic about things, especially about things which have happed relatively recently as compared to my childhood memories in Bulacan. I started to feel alone once more, especially when we passed by the field where children usually flew their kites made out of twigs and grocery bags. I gazed at the sky in search of stars shining faintly in the darkness of the night. I silently hoped to see even just one star struggling to keep on shining, even if darkness embraces it. I did not see any, but I kept searching, until I finally saw something shining across the sky. I squinted my eyes for me to better see them, but they disappeared. I opened my eyes wide, and there they were again, floating in the infinite darkness and uncertainty of the twilight. It was then I realized that those weren't the stars I was looking for, but were reflections of my tears welling up in my eyes.

Black Saturday & Easter Sunday

Ikkh. Gets ko naman yata kung bakit "Black" Saturday, pero bakit "Easter" Sunday? Ikkh talaga.

Umuwi kaming Bulacan kanina. Birthday pala ni Ninong Ador. Napakaweird kasi Sabado de Gloria, pero naroon kami, kumakain ng menudo at cordon bleu. Pag-uusapan din daw kasi nina Mamie at Tita Doret yung "surprise" handa ni Lola Pen, kasi she will be turning 80 this April 11 (pinapahanap sa akin ni Mamie kung ano raw ba ang tawag sa eightieth anniversary, kaso wala yatang tawag doon). Isasabay na rin daw lahat ng mga birthday celebrants for the month of April. May balak pa ngang magpagawa si Mamie ng tarpaulin eh, at siyempre, mukhang ako ang gagawa dahil tinanong na niya ako kung meron na raw ba akong Photoshop. Tsk tsk talaga.

At sasabihin ko rin na hindi ko naramdaman ang solemnity ng Holy Week ko this year, if all Holy Weeks are meant to be solemn, that is. But at least naman, nagawa kong makah2h (heart to heart) si God kahit papaano. At siguro, magiging kuntento na ako doon dahil never ko pa yatang naramdamang kinausap ko talaga si God.

At grabe. Napakahaba ng anticipated mass sa Bulacan. Dalawang oras. Grabe talaga. Tumirik na ang mga mata ko sa gutom. Ang bagal kasi magsalita ng pari, tapos sobrang dami pang readings na hindi ko alam kung bakit sobrang dami. As in talaga. Miski yata ang most devout Catholic, maiinis kahit kaunti sa haba. Well, ako, padrama-drama pa nung una, pero nung narealize kong sobrang haba na ng misa, naiinis na talaga ako. Sorry God. I was pushed to my gastrointestinal limits.

At yehey, buhay na ulit si Kristo. Panahon na para maging masaya kasi buhay na ulit siya. Panahon na para maging masaya kasi nailigtas na niya tayo mula sa kapahamakan at kahirapan dahil mahal na mahal na mahal Niya tayong lahat.



Ah, talaga?

Ang Rosary sa Bulsa ng Aking Bag

Noong kami'y paalis na para magpunta sa kapilya ng aming subdivision noong Huwebes Santo, naghanap si Mamie ng rosaryo. Dahil nga kami ay Bibisita Ingglesia, hinanap niya ang mga rosaryo niyang gamit na gamit at pudpud na pudpod. Ngunit sa isang hindi maipaliwanag na dahilan, hindi makita ni mamie ang kanyang mga rosaryo. Hindi niya mahanap ang lumang rosaryo ni nanay na galing pa sa Italy, ang rosaryong ginagamit niya tuwing papanata siya sa Baclaran, at yung isa pa niyang rosaryo na parang singsing. Sa akin siya naghanap ng rosaryo. Hindi ko alam kung bakit sa akin siya naghanap ng rosaryo. Siguro dahil ako ang unang pumasok sa kanilang kuwarto nung hinahanap niya ang mga rosaryo niya. Pumasok ako sa kuwarto nila hindi para tulungan si Mamie na hanapin ang kaniyang mga rosaryo, kung hindi dahil naiihi ako at makikigamit ako ng banyo nila dahil tamad akong maglinis ng sarili kong banyo.

Napaisip tuloy ako kung mayroon pa nga ba akong rosaryong naitatabi. Simula noong namatay si Nanay, nagdadasal na lamang ako ng rosaryo tuwing dadadalawin kami ni Mama Mary of the Block Rosary.

Bigla kong naalala na may rosaryo ako sa isa sa mga bag ko. Hindi ko na matandaan kung sino ang nagbigay sa akin noon, pero alam kong mayroon pa akong rosaryong itinatago. Hinalughog ko ang aking bag na bigay pa sa akin ni Tita Dako, ang bag kong hindi pa nalalabahan simula noong una ko itong ginamit noong ako'y nasa huling taon ng Mataas na Paaralan ng Ateneo. At ayun nga, nadama ko ang krus ng rosaryo ko sa isang maliit na bulsa sa loob ng isa pang bulsa sa may harapan ng aking bag.

Ibinigay ko kay Mamie ang rosaryo kong higit pa sa isang taon nang hindi nakaaaninag ng liwanag sa isang bulsa ng aking bag. Nagtaka ako dahil sa tinagal-tagal na pamamalagi nito sa madilim na bulsa ng aking madumi at mabahong bag, tila bago pa rin ito.

Hindi katulad ng aking paniniwala kay Kristo na naagnas na sa tinagal-tagal na panahon kong namalagi sa isang madilim na sulok ng aking buhay.

Good Friday

But ironically, this Friday isn't good at all. Not good at all.

I'm slowly losing grip of myself again. Oo. Again. Pinakikinggan ko kanina ang isang kanta sa Neeon (ko) ng halos mga dalawang oras. Habang nagsasampay ako at habang gumagawa ako ng brownies na kulang sa tamis, yun lamang ang pinakikinggan ko. Hindi ko alam kung bakit. Ang dami ko na naman kasing iniisip eh.

Well, medyo masaya naman ako dahil matiwasay namang lumabas ng oven ang brownies ko. Kanina ko lang nalaman na hindi pala enough ang isang lata ng condensada para maging matamis ang brownies. Naging matakaw tuloy kainin. Sinabi din ni Mamie na bibili siya ng imported na chocolate powder para mas lalo pang sumarap ang brownies na gagawin ko in the future. Iisa lang kasi yung chocolate powder sa Puregold eh, Peotraco ang tatak. Naaalala kong yun ang ginagamit ni Heny Sison sa kanyang show na A Taste of Life nung kami'y avid viewers pa ng show niyang iyon. Actually, hindi ko na alam kung pinapalabas pa ito sa IBC13 tuwing alas-11 ng Linggo ng umaga.

Naligo rin pala ako kaninang 3:15 ng hapon. Sabi nila, bawal na raw maligo kapag alas-3 na ng hapon ng Biyernes Santo kasi patay na raw ang Diyos. Wait lang. Parang hindi pa yata patay ang Diyos. Black Saturday pa yata mamatay ang diyos eh (hindi kasi ako isang devout Catholic eh). Hindi ko alam kung bakit bawal maligo, pero sabi ni Ate, isa raw yung sakripisyo. Pero hindi ko pa rin nagets ang connection ng pagligo at ang pagkamatay ni Hesus or whatever event. Naaalala ko rin dati nung bata pa ako na bawal maglaro tuwing Biyernes Santo. Ngayon ko lang naisip na baka bawal nang maging masaya kasi patay na si Hesus (or kung ano man ang nangyari), tapos bawal na rin sigurong maglaro kasi baka pagpawisan kasi bawal nang maligo. Ang labo. Oo, naaalala ko yang mga yan nung huli kong bakasyon sa Bulacan nung Holy Week many many many years ago.

Bakit nga ba "good" ang Good Friday?

At nakakadama na rin pala ako ng weird strong heartbeats paminsan minsan. Ewan ko. Dala na rin siguro ito ng pagpupuyat ko dahil hindi ako makatulog dahil ang dami kong naiisip. Grabe naman talaga.

Hindi ko na naman alam. Parang yung pesteng Rings na yan sa AMC125. Nakakaasar naman talaga kasi nahihirapan akong intindihin kasi ang dami ko na namang naiisip na hindi naman dapat isipin. Nakakaasar kasi hindi ko magawang gawing something productive yung mga bagay-bagay na kumakain sa utak ko ngayon.

Ayaw ko na talaga. Ayaw ko nang magkaroon ulit ng something. Ayaw ko nang maramdaman na ako ay naging isang problema lamang na hinihintay nang matapos.

I feel na mga 4 na ako makakatulog nito. Mag-aaral pa ako ng AMC125 kasi kailangan at take note, maaga akong gigising bukas (or later, 12:20 na kasi sa clock dito) kasi kailangan maglinis ng bahay kasi dadating yung gufra (girlfriend, haha) ng kuya ko at kasi uuwi rin kaming Bulacan bukas.

Oh, bakit "good" lang ang Good Friday? Bakit hindi "Great Friday" o kaya "Best Friday"?

Does this mean na hindi talaga overflowing, as all religion teachers say, with [insert proper noun/adjective/phrase/whatever here] si God?

Ah well. Just take the time to think. Besides, ito ata ang point ng Holy Week eh. It is a time to ponder about your faith.

Geez.


















What am I doing wrong? What am I not seeing?

Maundy Thursday

Dahil late na kaming nakauwi, ngayong Good Friday ko na mapopost ito.

Napatingin pa talaga ako sa dictionary kung ano nga ba ang ibig sabihin ng "maundy." Ayon doon,

-noun
1. the ceremony of washing the feet of the poor, esp. commemorating Jesus' washing of His disciples' feet on Maundy Thursday
2. Also called maundy money. money distributed as alms in conjunction with the ceremony of maundy or on Maundy Thursday

At kung hindi mo alam, Maundy Thursday ngayon.

Naging practice na namin ang bisita inglesia every Holy Thursday. Ito yung bibisita ka ng isang simbahan o chapel sa bawat station ng Stations of the Cross. Every year na lang, pakaunti ng pakaunti at palapit ng palapit ang mga pinupuntahan naming mga simbahan o kaya mga kapilya. Naaalala ko pa dati na marami kaming dalang baon na pagain at softdrinks kasi dinadayo pa namin ang Manila Cathedral at Sto. Domingo. Pero this time around, yung chapel lang ng subdivision namin ang pinuntahan namin. At wala lang, napansin din namin na kakaunti na lang ang mga taong naglalakad papuntang Grotto sa may Tungko. Dati kasi, napupuno ang mga tabi ng dating Don Mariano Marcos Avenue ng mga debotong naglalakad. Meron pa rin naman ngayon, yun nga lang, mabibilang mo na sila dahil kakaunti na lang sila.

Sa ikaapat na station, humiwalay ako sa aking pamilya at lumuhod sa pinakaunahang chapel pew. Doon, tiningnan ko si Hesus na nakapako sa kanyang krus. Pero hindi naman siya nakatingin sa akin. At sa kung ano mang dahilan, naramdaman ko na lang na tumulo ang aking mga luha. Hindi ko alam talaga kung bakit. Buti na lang, walang nakakita kaya naagapan ko ang isa pang pagpatak. Hindi ko talaga alam.

Paulit-ulit kong tinanong sa kanya kung ano ba ang ginagawa kong mali. Paulit-ulit kong inisip kung ano ba ang ginagawa kong mali kaya hanggang ngayon, hindi pa rin ako masaya. Ang dami ko na namang inisip. Nakakainis.

Medyo matagal din yata akong nakaluhod at nakatingin sa kanya. Kasi pagbalik ko kina ate, mamie, dadee, at kuya, Hail Holy Queen na ang dinadasal nila. Sa katunayan nga, hindi ko maramdaman ang tuhod ko nung tumayo ako. Hindi ko maramdaman ang tuhod ko miski na hinahaplos ko na ito ng matagal.

Pero hindi ko pa rin alam kung bakit ako naiyak.

Hindi ko pa rin alam kung bakit hindi pa rin ako masaya. Masaya naman ako, pero hindi na ako masaya.