Mabaya

Narrative #26 ambot

How do you convince yourself that you're always one step ahead but you're actually two steps behind?

There are so many things outside of our control; so many that our destinies path themselves according to how they are controlled by something we have no say on. Whether or not we deserve success is up to us but achieving so is not very much.

“Everything happens for a reason” All actions whether in the past, present or future happen because they are meant to (OR they are controlled to be). Events are determined by preexisting causes and conditions, which are mostly based on how the powerful (such as the rich or those in politics) dominate regulations.

Do we really have free will? Yes, we still have the power to make choices and exercise control over our lives. But at the end of the day, don’t we get influenced by external factors anyway?

Farmers and blue-collared workers work their way off every day to make ends meet. They have control over their lives, at least just as how they hold on to hardwork in order to relieve burdens by earning barely enough. But, why do most of them stay poor anyway? Meanwhile, landlords and corporate owners earn profit; they become successful.

It’s all complex and multifaceted - successes and destinies. Ultimately, the answer may vary depending on our personal beliefs and worldview. So, YES, the concept of success is up to us. Our lives are our own after all… Are they really?

|\ Mabaya /|

Dear nanay,

I feel so lost. Demotivated. I’m writing to you again because I miss you so much so badly. I found it very hard doing work today when all I can do is cry.

It’s almost 5 months since your death.

My head hurts so much from crying right now. I’m alone here, nay. There’s so much I want to say, so much I would have done for you.

The plane ticket booked for you remains.

I miss hugging you in the middle of the night after waking up from a nightmare. Now, I can barely manage proper sleep and my (already poor) health is getting worse.

I miss feeling your love.

I miss the moments when you’ll stand from the bed to get me tissue even though you can barely have adequate sleep and could hardly get up on your own in the middle of the night. Because you’d rather take care of me. You were the only person who can manage staying with me during the worst of my sneezes when my allergic rhinitis gets bad. You say it’s fine even if you could get infected as well.

I miss the pancit canton you cook late at night whenever you find me pulling out an all-nighter in front of my laptop. I always knew it was unhealthy, probably one of the reasons why I gained weight back then. But I eat them with you anyway because I appreciate you so much looking out for me. While everybody else perceived me as just someone who gets through responsibilities diligently, you saw me as a fragile girl who was trying her best to pull through. And you became the pillar for my fragility.

I miss your half-finished coffees that you would always offer to me whenever I kept complaining about how I won’t be able to finish my requirements on time. Your coffee was sweet, I always tell you that. But what I don’t tell you is that I love it despite the huge amount of sugar you put in it. I tell you it’s too sweet but you find me finishing your coffee anyway and you let me. You pretend as if you don’t notice and I only ask for your permission when there’s little left in the teacup. And you say yes, always.

I have to take care of myself now, nanay, which is something I wasn’t good at doing in the first place. There is not enough reason to be strong anyway. You said you know I’ll get rich and you had no doubt. Back then, I was also self-assured because I know how I can get very strategic to succeed for you. You deserved all the good things in life after all. But now, what use is there earning much when I can’t fulfill all my dreams for you? How can I stay ambitious when there is not enough reason to aspire high? You’re not here anymore.

I miss you, nanay. Graduating summa cm laude was shallow, and getting generous job offers is meaningless without you. How can I afford to set my goals when you’re not here to experience life with me?

I wish you were still here. Or at least just long enough for me to hug you again please. I love you.

Narrative #25 mata

Sic oculos.

You always mutter in your sleep. I hear it every night because I am awake. You dream. I am glad. I know that we do not wear our crowns to sleep. There are reasons why we never do. We are sick of it. So we find every reason to get rid of our crowns.

If our conscience cannot bear to destroy, then at least we can rid ourselves of everything we desire to shatter. You have made your confession, and I will make mine. You have given me a broken piece of yourself, and I will return the favor.

Every night, you dream. We both do. Yours contained a faint glimmer of light in the dark. Yours produced the giant man. Mine is of a monstrous character. You dream, and I have nightmares. My demons are the cause. They try to take over my body. They always do. But they are worse in my sleep. They do not possess; they oppress. They feed my mind with terrorizing thoughts. They victual sumptuously on my body.

The ache in my core is at its worst during my sleep. Horrible aches awaken the sleeper. That is why I am always alive at night. “Escape is impossible”, I tell you. Because even in my dreams, I do not get a chance to. But I am glad you can. Your narratives about the giant man allow me to imagine, and I am always fascinated by them. At least I still get to enjoy dreaming, even if it is not mine.

Sic oculos.

I always hear you mutter in your sleep because I am awake. I am always alive at night. I go on adventures. I start with getting our crowns on the bedside table and transferring them to our wardrobe, where they cannot be seen near you or in your dreams. It is in another room, where you cannot shatter them.

You concoct a plan to destroy them in your dreams, I know. You have done harm to them before, and you do not wish to repeat it. You still have mercy, and you do not want them to be disappointed or devastated. So I save you and us from that devastation by ridding ourselves of the crowns. If our conscience cannot bear to destroy, then at least rid ourselves of everything we desire to shatter.

Upon putting the crowns in our wardrobe, I change. I sneak out of the castle and go to this one place, the path of memories. I travel down that road every night. You know it is my paradise, though only an illusion. And whenever I walk down that road, I do not encounter him. I am glad.

I know the giant man is with you in your dreams. He goes to you every night to say the same words. It is more beautiful on the path of memories at night than it is during the day. The stars remind me of the glimmer in your heart, of that beat I witnessed that Halloween night.

I always imagined how beautiful it is to have that feeling. To feel your heart beat is a wonderful experience, as I imagined. But I also know the truth. And the truth is that it is also a tragedy at the same time.

I am teller of truths. And I tell you that I sometimes wonder when I will get the chance to dream, to have that feeling. But aside from wondering when, I am more interested in that person who will cause my heart to beat. The question makes me smile.

He can be anyone. I just wish he was not an angel. I cannot bear to kill more. But even if he were an angel, I would still love him completely. It is for him that I would use our verb.

It is he who will make me feel the untwisted form of love we always thought about. It is he who would make my heart beat.

And when my heart does, the demons gripping my core will hear it. They will know that I have met another angel. They will possess me. My lips make their way into a frown. My demons will possess me and induce new senses. And I would take delight in hurting him, or killing him.

Oh, I would rather die than have that happen. That is the truth. I cannot bear to hurt him or deny him. That is why I only wonder but do not wish. I wonder if I will ever get to meet him. I wonder who he is.

|\ Mabaya /|

narrative #24 akala

If we had met under other circumstances in a different situation, what would our relationship be like? I would have fallen for you no matter how we have met each other. It could not get any better than this. Too bad all we could ever be is a dream.

There's a lot going through my head, a lot of feelings haunting me. I can't afford to prioritize thinking about you when I have other things to think about that should be more important to me. Stop being the subject of my delusions. You're not what I need. You're not whom I should worry about. You're not possible.

|\ Mabaya /|

He was my quest

|\ Mabaya /|

narrative #23 duwag

We are courageous cowards, the plaguer said. I believed her. But there was always that hint of doubt trying to creep through my body's system. That hint of doubt that I jerk away from every time I feel it slowly crawling its way around the frail heart. At the time, it baffled me how such reflex of another action just comes out before I even have the chance to control. But now I know the reason. Finally, I know the truth. And although it pains me to accept it, I have to. I would not want to believe it but denying the truth meant denying who I am. Denying the truth meant denying the teller - me.

The truth is I am not brave. I am not and will not be brave. I should not have believed what the plaguer said, should have understood its context first. Because the true contrast of it beats no, we are not courageous. Yet we push to believe we are courageous cowards. We push to believe something we are not.

Courageous cowards indeed. The word of courage adds its illusion to the term. The word of courage masks the meaning of an unfavorable worth behind it. The word of courage serves only a misleading impression. It is not the truth. Because although courage poses good statement, in the end it is still an intended deceit. In the end, we are still deemed cowards.

I am still a coward. And cowards are not and will never be brave.

|\ Mabaya /|

narrative #22 mahina

Hearts used as weapons in a battle fought for centuries do not win a lover the throne. Hearts only imprison scars that have been carved through the deepest roots of history. I would know. I have used my heart once. I attempted to let it dominate because I thought it would serve as an amulet in winning this continuing battle. I tried allowing the heart to reign but listening to it only empowered the enemy to vanquish nation after nation in their relentless conquest of our kingdom.

These ruins are consequences of frail, faulty, and foolish decisions. Fissures on the ground do not fail to remind the present of grave mistakes made in the past. I cannot forget. I do not forget. Demons torture this body every time I try to, every time I make the brave choice of forgetting the burdens I have caused. Because I am not and will never be brave. I am weak. Frail. Faulty. Foolish.

|\ Mabaya /|

narrative #21 pangungulila

We wear our crowns so bravely on our heads. We don't let it fall. We don't let it falter. We live by our duties, just as someone belives that we will responsibly fulfill them. A whole lot of people don't matter, just one. We hold on to that person, like a pillar. A stronghold that we think would live consistent by our side. They have been there to support us from the start after all.

This is all until we realize that it's all so foolish. Time passes. Bricks that have built strongholds and pillars also crumble. People fade. We end up being fools, still wearing the crowns that have turned brittle on their own. We end up being alone, catching up to someone fleeting...

We end up being alone, catching up until we run out of breath. Until we give up on life. Until we become weak.

That someone is g o n e

That someone is gone yet we stand there, here, so helpless. Our legs are barely holding us up, forcing themselves to stay strong. Our lives are rendered and left back to a blank slate. In everything we do, all we hold on to are memories. All we have is a rusted crown, not fittingly right to bestow upon us a title. Especially now that we have become fools... still hoping.

Still waiting. Still wishing that someone would come back. Still confused; Who are we without that someone? Who are we but wandering, lonely individuals with meaningless crowns? There is no answer.

There is no answer unless we are ready to say farewell. Unless we let go, we won't continue. We know that and yet we refuse to say goodbye. How can we?

There can never be goodbyes for someone who has built us. There can never be goodbyes for our day-ones. Without our day-ones, do we start over? Without that someone, do we let go of our crowns? Without them, how do we become brave?

Too many questions, barely any time left to take care of ourselves.

This is our breaking point. This is the end.

not so brave anymore

letting ourselves fall

faltering

no fulfillment to a meaningless rusted crown

nothing matters

no one

no one to hold on to

no pillar

no stronghold

Dear nanay,

I had not planned on writing to you for a time after your death but here I am because I miss you so much. You probably would not be able to understand this, more so see this anymore. The emptiness within since you left is still too big to fill on my own and I cannot even find it in others no matter how much they tell me they are there. I need to have a sense of letting this out so here goes…

I hate how everything has been going by so fast. I hate how your burial has gone by so fast that I am expected to treat it like a mere significant event in my life now. I cannot keep up with how, as if in a click, everyone’s telling me to go on. I cannot even imagine myself continuing the life I am having without you in it. It’s supposed to be “when you die, I die”. Right now, it just hurts too much.

This is the first Thursday since your burial and I have not gotten proper sleep since, or ever. It is still so difficult sleeping in the same room that was filled with memories with you. Thursdays used to be my favorite day of the week, but now I don’t know how to even treat my days anymore. Everything’s dark lately. I felt invalidated today and I didn’t know what to do, what to feel. And I remembered how you were always the first person I ran to whenever I needed someone to put reason to the things I do, to make my life make sense.

I realize you were THE VERY REASON my life made sense. I was always motivated to achieve things for you. I became the person I am because you taught me to be humble and it was only in front of you that I felt comfortable talking about how far I’ve come. I feel proud of myself when I’m with you and you gave me reason to be. I had my plans for us. I had my dreams for you.

Now, I don’t know anymore. I'm not sure how I will be able to become the person I'd planned to be. After all, you left me with a simple purpose: "Magpakabait ka anak ko ah. Mag-aral kang mabuti". I'm working on it nay but it's so hard. Right now, it's just too hard.

I guess all I want to express is that I miss you so much so badly, not even a week after you left. My life is blurry and I only want to see you again. I just want to be with the most important person in my life.

I love you. Until your last breath, that was all I can say.

narrative #20 kumislap

He remains in your head but not in your heart. You chose to. Because that's the path you always force yourself to go to at every turn. And I wonder why but I understand at the same time. I don't know how yet that's what I think. I think maybe, yes, you do have a heart.

I've seen it glimmer sometimes throughout a decade of our friendship. Throughout those days you thought you were alone but were not. Because you had friends. Friends who tried but still could not understand what that glimmer was trying to utter. What that glimmer meant. The glimmer was uttering a message. Perhaps it was making me understand.

But I still cannot fathom if that glimmer meant slowly dying or initiating life. I thought it was both back then. But that Halloween night, I saw how it chose to persist even though it was difficult to continue the life it was initiating. And I'm certain that it was the giant man's doing. It shined. I saw the glimmer transform into a beat. For the first time.

It beat when you beheld his figure and all the small details of the giant man. And I wonder why but I understand at the same time. And then it happened when the two of you hugged. The embrace happened. Warmth took over your ice, cold heart. That's when I perfectly understood.

That glimmer. Of course! It's all starting to make sense now. "I might be inhuman but I'm still human". Humans do not live without a heart. A heart that beats. With it, they dream, feel and love.

Love. And I am certain it was the giant man's doing. He was the glimmer. Even if it was just a bit. Even if it was faint. He made your heart shine when you thought it was nonexistent. When it felt nonexistent as it had not beat for so long, too long. He understood what your heart was uttering. More than I. And I'm glad. At that moment, he understood.

|\ Mabaya /|

She was a queen. A beloved leader

|\ Mabaya /|

narrative #19 panagrigat

I can feel your suffering, both of you. A battle brought nothing but expressions full of scorn. Because nobody won. In the end, even the two of you lost. Though you are the reverse of mundane, I suppose everything else that perceives you dangerous is mortal. You caused the troubles that came to ordinary mortals. That is how you lost.

Both of you resemble mortal men. Both of you are subjects to death. Someday, you will be one with the black holes you hold now. Those black holes will not stop in being void. And you, all of us, will be part of the void of forgotten memories. Those black holes will not cease in being empty space traps of light.

But lives will cease. We will be light upon death. We will be trapped in black holes. Although you resemble and will come upon a permanent cessation of all vital functions as with mortal men, until death the two of you will still be deemed different.

While the rest mourn, your death will be a relief. It is because of the black holes you permanently hold. Your black holes are fatal. Mundane creatures weaken by their void illnesses and mortal injuries. Your black holes are marks of unrelenting hostility. They present messages that you are mortal enemies. They are marks of war, of battle. And a battle brings nothing but expressions full of scorn.

You say both of you are brave cowards. I believe it because I understand. Your black holes are marks of severe danger. They are like kings. They become reflections of your kingdoms. They are cruel kings who are feared and hated by its subjects. So the subjects live with mortal terror. They may try every possible thing to escape. But it is already conceivable that black holes will refuse to go. They are inescapable. So every mortal attempts done are useless.

Your black holes are deadly. It is why both of you live mortal agonies. But you remain to be brave. That threshold is your mortal limit. You refrain from crossing it. You refrain from endangering others, from endangering each other. Sometimes, the only thing you can do is wait. I have told you this many times. It does not matter
how long. You just mortally wait. Wait until you are safe enough to be mundane, to be one.

And it will be then that both of you will realize the worth of your efforts. You will realize everything. You will realize that everything I describe as mortal in this dramatic sketch will also come to their end.

|\ Mabaya /|

Trust was evil and insidious

|\ Mabaya /|

narrative #18 nalawag

Even clear waters can be polluted. I am telling you now, do not be deceived. You have tested waters and decided to look at one you deem the most beautiful in content. For that, you have fallen in a trap similarly once again. The only difference is that this trap has been dugged deeper and so the impact is more hurtful. It effects to more pain and deeper bruises.

I do not wish your pain. We are old familiars that feel what one is exactly feeling. We reflect the same experiences even though different nonetheless. We reflect truths and communicate bonds.

You beheld an unfamiliar reflection that lured you into false hope. You did not like seeing that reflection of yourself but the feeling of going near the water gladdened your heart. You aimed to become one with its beauty and the joy you felt spending time around the body of water was indescribable.

The feeling was nameless. I understand. I will not judge you. I wish you start doing it as well. Do not judge the reflection you have looked onto that water. The image it produced was false, I tell you with conviction. We are old familiars. I have been able to reflect your character throughout the mortality of our friendship already. And the image I remember is completely different from that of what you have beheld recently.

Do not be deceived. Do not let it null the beaut of all the other reflections you have witnessed. The water is polluted after all. Though, I understand why you were attracted to it. It once became your happiness. You narrate about the scenery through praises, choosing to be blind on the painting's contrasts. I understand. I will not judge you. I admit there was still good in that water despite pollution. But I have not seen it in the way you marvel at the landscape.

It once filled you with awe and now you want to go back. And there is nothing bad about only deciding to notice the good qualities. There is nothing bad about going back. Choosing to look again into the reflection it produced does not make you one that is to be judged.

You come again braver. You come again for the purpose of attempting to lessen the burden of beholding that false, rippled reflection. I understand, I tell you for the last time. Do not be deceived, I remind. Remember even clear waters can be polluted. Even diamonds can be broken and graved. Even the hardest of woods can be weak.

|\ Mabaya /|

narrative #17 pagkabalisa

I get the feeling that this is going to sound like a goodbye letter even though I don't want it to be but here goes.

Our lives are getting different as time passes. And I'm afraid I'm going to have to lose friends for another time. I have to be honest with myself that I can't keep up with you. I feel pressured. I feel overwhelmed. I don't know what to do after graduation.

Ever since, you've always been so connected. I'm the only one always left out and it's okay. I get that not all people get to have very similar lives enough to stay together. I get that I do not need to involve myself into a friendship that feels forced.

You've changed me over the span we've been friends; I'm thankful for that. I have learned to appreciate more people coming into my life. I had more time to bond with those I share a part of my honest self with. I've shared friends with you and all the while, we were the ones who were falling apart.

You are one of the very significant people behind my survival up to this day. You are one of the pillars I have had going through hell. That is why it is so horrible feeling this again, the same kind of fear that haunts me every now and then. It always aches having to say goodbye. I'm a sucker for losing friends more than I change crushes after all. Look at me now, writing this at 3am in my phone, wanting to sleep but can't, my eyes hurt, and I still want to cry even more.

But to be painfully and brutally honest, I have to accept things both for myself and you. I want to be genuinely proud of you but I cannot stand always spiraling into bitterness and comparison whenever opportunity is achieved. I cannot be the person who becomes focused on vanity. I have to be completely and utmost happy for you and the things that build your life.

Go out there, conquer the world. I'll stay here. I love you, I'm proud of you.

|\ Mabaya /|

To be liked but never to be pursued

|\ Mabaya /|

narrative #16 saksi

It sucks how I've just realized that I like you in our final year. And it sucks even more that I have come to like you at all when I want to maintain our friendship at the same time. I hate that I feel that I'm more head over heels about you. I hate imagining how it would be like if we can take us to more than friends. I hate envisioning us being in a relationship together.

You seem so collected all the time. You seem to keep your feelings under control. Yet with all that facade, how do you even manage to tell me things like "What will I do without you?" or "I can only be honestly myself when I'm with you"

You can't be the only one who plays whatever game you're playing with me. You can't just intend and act as if you want to express something, yet you're taking on the safe path by not explicitly communicating it. You can't just get my hopes up about us having a chance to be more than friends when lingering on the other side of all our sweet moments together is the fact that we're just too different.

We're so different yet so the same and I hate it. I hate that I had to have feelings for someone who I can connect, share my humor with but is also the same person who has conflicting principles with mine. Why can't I just see us as simply friends?

It hurts, to be completely honest. It hurts to see a future with someone I blatantly know I cannot be with. It hurts to feel that we may mutually like each other but a big part of what you believe in prevents us from being together, even from dating each other at the least. It hurts to know that I've set myself up to confess to you in the first place and now I can't even find the courage to fulfill it because what's the point anyways?

At the end of it all, I guess what's important for me now is that even though I hate our situation, I completely understand why you have to do the things you do. I completely understand why we can't be. I completely understand that you've lived all your life sticking by the very principles you have to abide by, and that's why the thought of us is impossible.

I won't confess. Some things are better left unsaid. Letting it out will just lead to more what ifs. Letting it out might just ruin this friendship. Letting it out risks what is left of whatever thing we have between us.

That's it. I had and still have feelings for you but I'm contented. Thank you for being in my life.

|\ Mabaya /|

narrative #15 pagpapanatili

I feel like I have to let you know that no matter how much I embrace my extrovertedness, the thought of losing people and letting people in is still very traumatic for me deep inside. I have episodes every now and then thinking about the kind of relationship I have with people, with individuals. I'm scared of opening up to them.

And at some degree, I also get scared sometimes of the amount of things I open up to you.

Before anything, please don't feel bad. I just had to let you know.

Going back, the point is narrative #14. I've come to realize that my extrovertedness does not make up and cover the fear of losing the people that matter to me. But above that, this is also about me explaining that I'm really scared of being honest with people. I don't know how else I can express how compelled I am to always put up a front that keeps people up and wanting to continue the relationship I have formed with them.

What I really want to say is that you're the person that knows most about the events that have made (and maybe still make) me vulnerable. Believe me, I don't regret it. It's just that sometimes I think that my extrovertedness, my being around with other people, drifts us apart somehow... because I spend my energy on meeting them that I get drained off my social battery, enough to neglect maintaining my friendship with you.

I don't know. Sometimes I feel that way. Please do tell me if you feel like I'm leaving you out sometimes.

Don't get me wrong though. I genuinely know that this friendship is strong and deep enough to surpass the (relatively surface level) friendships that I form with others. I guess it's just the thoughts and I want to open them up to you because I don't want to lose you as my best friend and I don't want to end up wasting energy on people that will not stay for long.

What I'm saying is I hope that you'll continue to tolerate me. Don't hesitate to be unapologetically honest if I'm doing something wrong. Mwa

|\ Mabaya /|

narrative #14 palakaibigan

The problem with being an extrovert is the amount of people that come into my life. It's so weird how I'm scared of forming a relationship with the whole bunch of them and yet my most favorite part remains to be that I get to be involved in their lives. It makes me feel significant yet sometimes still so empty.

Maybe it's because the relationships I form lack depth? Maybe it's because I'm so good at putting on a mask, establishing a different front for different people? Maybe it's because I don't get to be an open book to every one of them? Maybe it's all of these and that's sad.

I feel so tired keeping up and feeling obligated to maintain all relationships. I feel so tired always being so scared of losing people in my life, regardless of whether it means symbolically or literally. I feel so tired of always feeling missed out.

It's like I form relationships with people just to feel like I belong and that's s**t. It's shallow.

Maybe I miss being an introvert... Maybe??? Sometimes maybe I don't. OR MAYBE all I want is to be able to determine who's authentic and who's temporary.

All of this is scary. I open myself to some people and eventually feel regret about feeling vulnerable.

This is my point.

|\ Mabaya /|