photo by me, inspired by Up Dharma Down's album "Bipolar"
She was stuck in the middle of everything and decided to go back and watched the history in the making. She called the force desk informing them that she can't make it, but she called-in late, marking her very good record into a very bad schedule adherence that missed her chance of getting that retention fee after her contract.
She promised herself to regain her absence since it was her day-off. But something was telling her to move back and get out of that place. She was not herself that day, so uncertain of her feelings, trying to figure out the mixed emotions she's having. She was already in front of the door leading to the area where she'll dwell again with strangers that she'll never meet in person, only voices that commands and demands and don't give a damn of the service that she offers. Her head tells her to go inside, but her feet pleads to run. She needed to make a choice quick, on that spot were she'll make the most cliched or the dumbest decision of her life.
Finally, she went inside, went straight to her supervisor, made the lamest excuse ever and left the building immediately.
Now on her second cigar, she waited patiently on a friend that she haven't seen in weeks. She pondered on the decision she made that day, recalling the faces that her workmates gave her, so clueless of the reason of the sudden departure.
The she realized: she was lost, becoming a robot of her own race. She let herself swim with a school of fish on a stagnant river. She needs a diversion, to escape. To let her feel that she's still human.
Finally, this friend of hers arrived, He approached her with a smile and a tap on her shoulder, greeting her:
- Kanina ka pa?
- Medyo.
- Anong meron?
- Nothing, just wanna hang-out. Got a place in mind?
- Nope. Everything's spontaneous.
- MOA tayo.
- Don't have any money here.
- My treat.
- Sure?
- Yep, since it's my idea.
So they found themselves hanging-out outside a coffee shop along the bay talking about their plans after leaving work. They both want to start their own business. She wants to continue her online shop, he likes to start a t-shirt project. She wants to put up a production, he wants to put up a food business for his family. She likes to try teaching speech communication and photojournalism at her former school, he likes to give advertising a shot. They both jive on this aspect. But while they're conversing, she suddenly remembered one aspect that she dearly misses - writing.
She long to grab a pen and paper, go someplace and write her heart out. She missed writing blogs, essays and songs. Though she reads lots of books these days, the pages that she browse each day only gave her a momentary bliss, letting her mind do its magic to picture every word she interprets as if she was really there, but will diminish in a matter of seconds gaining her consciousness back to her acrid-sweet reality.
She also stopped writing on her journal, skipping and missing the unexpected, the blunt, and the momentous excerpts of her existence as a member of a taxpaying society. She never had a time to buy a new notebook that'll record her new chapter since her second journal ran out of pages, closing another chapter at the exact time were she just got out of college, became a temporary bum and went to the ferocious jungle in search for a job.
She let her mind fly to the things she yearned for - the writings, the music, the pictures she used to capture - everything she used to do and the idealism that this would be her profession in the future were put on hold, never certain on how long it will be and when will be achieved due to the reality that she's facing, struggling and contemplating between what she wants and been dreaming of and the responsibility and priorities now she carries. Before, the night was her companion, now it's the resource of her income. She works eleven hours a day, bearing the criticisms and foul words that foreigners tell her, much more if the person in the other line is in rage and a racist. Her patience was put to the test every single day and her health was put to risk a couple of times. She was a fish in a current that is starting to die, doing everything to prevent her extinction.
Then she snapped out of it, reminding herself that there's someone beside her doing all the talking. He was supposed to have work by 6am and still needs to go home to Cavite. But there he was right beside her, blabbing anything and everything under the August wind. She just listened attentively and smiled each time he cracks a corny joke. She appreciated all the effort the guy exerts, the effort that she's been looking for all these years.
She was thankful and at the same time feels sorry for him. Thankful that he met someone like him, and feels sorry for the fact that she can never give the love that he found in her. She's a femme fatale, a rebel with habits that can turn a guy on and/or off, a liberalist who's as tough as rock and still in search for the missing piece that'll fulfill her as a struggling artist, while this guy is an epitome of an average Joe, so conservative and reserved, a good boy from the block who's still scared to explore the unknown. So fragile that you wouldn't dare break his heart or shake his premature dreams. Yes, they can understand each other responsibility-wise, but they can never meet halfway other than that. He's too soft for her, She's too good enough for him. She's a year older and she still thinks he's a nice guy from college, so eager in forcing himself to grow up. She's in search for someone who's already a grown-up, has the ability to slap her in the head, scold her then hugs her after, making her realize that she can't be tough at all times.
Yet she found herself smiling at that moment, very thankful for she have found a companion at that time of her distress, strengthening her belief that everything really happens for a reason.
At the bay they stroll, letting the mist of the sea sprinkle their faces, letting its raging waves feel the adrenaline rush as if daring them to plunge in and fight the storm. then suddenly, she went towards the seawall, spread her arms wide with clenched fists, bursting a howl saying, "I'M A ROCK AND I'LL NOT BE MOVED... SO BRING IT ON!!!"
He was astounded by the scene, only stood at her back giving her a stare, while she's still facing the sea trying not to shed a tear.
Then some words came into her mind, as if someone's whispering to her, making a short poem:
"Thanks to the monsoon for releasing my dismay,
for the touch of its breeze and its warm embrace,
now I can face the world in every way,
Aloha Milkyway, it's a brand new day..."
That was the only time she accepted the sea's response. Now she knows what to do, with a reply, "So long Astoria..."...
Finally, she faced him, her body half-wet,gave him a big hug and said, "Thank you, I needed this,"
He hugged back replying, "Just remember I'll be here, even if you don't need me."
No comments:
Post a Comment