SCORCH - PANANAW Volume 3

SCARS - 03 92 Kapag Umuulan Umuulan na naman. Magandang panahon para kumita. Nasasabik na ako sa mga segundong ang putik kong hulma ay matunaw ng mga patak ng nakapapasong ulan upang maging katipan ng lupang minsan kong linakaran. patuloy akong iibig. patuloy akong daramdam. patuloy akong mamumuhay sa kabila ng kamatayan. Kapag umuulan, nagiging mas pabaya ang isang mamimili sa palengke. Siguro dahil okupado ng payong ang isa pa nilang kamay at ang maliit na bahagi ng kanilang isipan ay okupado rin ng payong na iyon. Hindi nila namamalayan, ngunit ang bahaging iyon ng kanilang utak ay abala sa pag-iisip sa kung anong mga bagay ba ang madadali ng nasabing payong. Pati na rin kung paano ito hahawakan ng kanilang kamay sa paraang ang buong katawan nila ay protektado pa rin mula sa patak ng ulan. Kasama rin dito ang pagtatantsa ng parte ng utak na iyon kung hagip ba ng nasabing payong ang sa suot nilang bag sa likod. Sa madaling salita, ayaw nilang mabasa at dahil sa kagustuhang ito, nababawasan ang pokus ng utak sa kanilang kapaligiran, kahit maliit na porsyento lamang. ay Dito pumapasok ang trabaho ko. Ang taenchgndiqaumeipnagraasteanmsyaotnagguimbipnaibyingaaytrnaiblaahsoa simple lamang. Bawasan mo nang bawasan kanilang kapaligiran at ibaling ito sa payong. Una, pasimple mong banggain ang iyong napiling mamimili habang nagsasabi ng isang malakas na “Excuse me po!” Mas epektibo ito kung mayroon kang dalang props katulad ng sako ng bigas o buslo ng prutas. Pagkatapos ng sanadling engkuwentro ay dali-dali kang umikot papunta muli sa kaniyang likuran. Huwag kang mag-alala, hindi ka niya makikita dahil mas malaking parte na ng isip niya ang nakatuon sa mga gamit nilang nahulog o muntik nang mahulog. Isagawa ang ikalawang hakbang. Pangalawa, maghintay sa tamang tiyempo. Abangan na hindi na iniisip ng kaniyang isip ang nangyari noong dinali mo siya. Kapag mukhang bumalik na ang atensyon ng kaniyang isip sa paglalakad at sa payong na kaniyang binabalanse, banggain mo ulit siya. Banggain mo nang mas malakas pero ang iyong puruhin ay ang kaniyang bisig na may bitbit na gamit, huwag ang bisig na mayroong payong. Pangatlo, nakawin mo na ang kung ano mang pwede mong manakaw. Ang parteng ito ang pinakadelikado at pinakamabilis. Magaang kamay. Matalas na mga mata. Kahit anong makukuha, kuhanin mo. Kahit isang piraso ng mansanaso kung sinuswerte ka, pitakang may lamang pera. Bilisan mo. Bilisan mo bago may makakita. Bilisan mo bago— prrrrrrrrrrrrrrttt—­ bago may pumito. Puta, takbo! scorch

93 SCARS - 03 Pang-apat, ang parteng ito ay nakareserba lamang para sa mga sirkumstansyang katulad nito. Takbo. Nariyan na ang pulis, nakita ka na niya. Tumakbo ka patungo sa eskinita. Dapat may planado ka nang pagtataguan. Bang! Daplis, pero masakit pa rin. Pang-anim, kapag nakita mo na ang basurahang dapat mong pagtaguan, tumahimik at magtago ka nalamang. Aalis na rin ang mga pulis, magaling lamang naman silang manakot. Huwag kang mag-alala. Unti-unting lumalapit ang mga hakbang ng pulis sa aking puwesto. Unti-unting nagpaparamdam ang daplis ng bala. “Nasaan ‘yung lintik na ‘yun? Namumuro na s’ya, puta. Kaya hindi naunlad ang lipunan eh,” pagalit na bigkas ng pulis. Tumahimik. “Sa susunod nalang. Mahuhuli rin natin ‘yun kapag hindi na umuulan. Mas madulas ang mga kawatan kapag umuulan eh.” Tumahimik ulit. Nakahinga na ako nang maluwag. Mission succe— “Huli kang bata!” sigaw ng pulis kasabay nang pagsipa patumba ng basurahang aking pinagtataguan. Paano niya ako nahanap? “Mabuti nalang at umuulan. Kitang kita namin ‘yang tulo ng dugo mo.” Bang. scorch

94 aling bangas ang sumasakit pa rin hanggang ngayon?

95 Mahalin mo ang iyong mga sugat

96 Upang ikaw ay maghilom sa sakit

97

98

99 SCARS - 04 Of All Red loves you, and loves you not. You’re friends today, tomorrow you’re not. Orange will defend you up front, And stab you in the back. Spend with you the good times, And bring you the worst ones. Yellow is honest, by cheating the truth. If things go sideways, you’ll be down. Green thinks it brings peace, But really the one to cause the flame. Green burns from the fire it raised, And tells the world you brought the lighter. Blue cools the tension down, But really just wants to know the crap. Indigo preaches such things, But doesn’t live the preach. Tells you to not be like this, Because indigo is like that. Violet accuses you bossing around, But hates to be told. Often angry like a boar, As well as it cries like a baby. Among all these shades, superego watches out For the clean in sight. It is all the colors, be careful of white. scorch

SCARS - 05 100 Act. 1 Encore Loud applause erupted within the theatre. Claps and cheers filled my ears and the only thing that clouded my vision was an image of countless smiles from strangers and from those who I barely recognize. Endless steps and counting. That was how the world went. All the clothes were soaked in sweat. All the shoes were covered in thin films of dust and deep scratches. Every motion had a beat. Every action had a motive. “Bravo!” the crowd shouted. And so, I stood on my feet and walked downstage, the bloody red color on my lips and violet eyeshadow becoming more perceivable to their eyes. As if the surroundings had felt my movement, the cut-out leaves would fly onto my ankles before finally being carried away by the undertow of the wind. The dim light that failed to focus on me will spread, making every person’s face visible to my sight. The scene unfolds and I’d feel insecure of what to do and what might occur. Looking at my wrists, I’d see the glimmering bracelets that would reflect whatever light would hover upon it. I would feel the weight of the light metallic grey accessory on my neck that will remind me of where I currently stand. I’ll continue the act. For it is my purpose. Entertain. Satisfy. Please. As soon as the curtains close, the act will drop, and a more savage series of sweat- soaked dresses and scratch-filled shoes will pursue as I try to resist their touch within the closed car doors and dark-tinted windows. And I will regret stepping off the sidewalk and onto the black asphalt, nearer to their luxurious carriers for the thousandth time. The hands they used to applaud would meet my heavily concealed face, reopening the wounds on my lips that would bring the lipstick’s color to shame. The lightest splash of wine that was formerly contained in their wine glasses would wash off the thick layers of foundation to reveal the greenish black bruise that stains my right eye. As I try to get away, begging for the moonlight to heal the scars of my shattered dignity, the child-locked knobs would hinder me, and I’ll be pulled back by their grips on the steel chains that connect to my neck and wrists. And I will count and count, desperately waiting for the aftermath to end so that I’ll finally be able to take my steps away from the entities that threaten my existence. When I finally arrive back to those who own my name, the surface will reset, the dirt will be washed off, and the events will be crushed as they fatten me with care until the sun sets once again for the performance to repeat. scorch

101

SCARS - 06 102 Shatter h apear—rt,astwilLrleoacbckkle.eUdtonacswleuagtyrcehfgrtaohtmeedstihadneedswocofrrhuldemripnhleianagdt,inwtyrhaifsloheu.hrB-ecrrouerilnsbeeodrwehds abrnaodloasmn, cc,ehtohainenheindetrearkinfoeerwems.inircrhoerss “You’re a disappointment!” S mosehfeoegmrehete.atdiHsntliegilAT“kryWehesfnseahahtochbwuyueeht?agcohlYhsrlrpesou.rrauIemsnceln’roepystewtelsgeenslpardyoceid.rtlwmoiIoetns.ovfseevmdg,reeiharstweetlclaioennlrrortge,tsherestadhhricteefti.”onoaprgitrrhaersiaserhsp,ceeihoddnerlyreheeeciodnrhfselat,oshpstwepheererxeroaihnobgemhognaedsrlciyeaordtenteoa.adtilhlynaergergxaeupprpauponmerdrtebiodblinonindgoyfhnweoovpihseeaenst. “It’s all your fault.” c as locotnwucalrylelytceoeT“ngnIhsrtdu’oessumovtnkohedaidec.yreh.eCI.eptorW’rsnohoacmektlaueparrdyttei”fnaodsgrtmtheoeaenrdlcsyoocnwnrtaiitwtnhhuleeoadsuniddsaoerrsewmsonofnlhehaenenrgrtfteashoyceeuo.snnwdailotlhfsotihudeteswh.eaIrtllrdsecaarwleizneicenhdgi.nhSgeerol,fn-itptihatlyel rssrL eehloicadeoockwahgniinanndsiggznhi’cInttunrhgaaneabzgttlyhtce,leehosmtaoomfrispnewietleslsiiydntotnogfyfremiiosnsnusmgobatfhshhsiheedemrerimrnukhggyhnasahnwetnieedacdsrsya.saltwnworexhghaieieelctetnthyiteo,hersnae.hrrHoesffmueatrcnhaeceedebyemaeesasceianftwemagwleleyrceahtftolattoeoiownmosetlpdiocptlsodpevuooeerfdwrybenydefogthebrueayirhrlideftnahrrgcoehephal.-einqOredsuvnseieldlinfyt,. adcokwnno,welsetBdraegnwegmilededenfrtreoodmf tbhhyeersotchwaelnedws-edoeormdwsin.n,gslyuppimospeodssriobolem. lCibleorstiyn,g shheer egyaesspteodcaulmpohnerstehlef “It’s okay little fighter, soon things will get brighter.” tel oonnewgmhayesnosfehIhvteeefcreraylotntwhlirinkene.mgLaefaamvsltelbsmreyaripn,loaaurnlttleg–s,htsihhemeedrefsiodesulifnwn.cdaeshtdehoresuelbalfts,thbomlladomimnegeanontndsthofiegthhentecwooniutlhyraphgeeerrdssoehlnef;rssmheelafck. aiFnnogrruaanns sr nauanodrdwriaotohnufecnfebdtoAooinufbsgntihsghd.geelSeerhrssmebhdaiontetrldliiebzsboe. rneac.taIenmlytehoepluleocnindegd; rahulentrh,oeshyueegshcoanncllocylsateoidm,beshhegerresueeytceecdseebwdyeetdrheceoabnbllqienudetiorningsgesnuhsneerlsigtehhlfet, scorch

103

SCARS - 07 104 scorch You Seeping through my wretched soul, Sending shivers down my spine. Not once did I forsake you, Every time you crossed the line. Never, did you flee my shadow; Where it wandered off and went. You stood and tore me limb from limb; And to no one, I could vent. I thought I’ve gotten rid of you; The torment, the tears—the ache. But hitherto, you consume me. In your agony, I bathed. Engulfing me in darkness, In a forlorn abyss of thought. A vile being—I came to be; And that, I was not. Bloodshot, my eyes were; These orbs yearn to escape. In them, you stood how proudly; Grinning, with morbid faith. No, you do not amuse me! You are a mere relentless test! You settle in my bones, deep; And heave against my chest. What the hell is wrong with you? Is something wrong with me? These voices tell me not to go on. When will I be free? Agape—you have bequeathed my soul; And in time, I shall perish. My friend, we’ve had some good times; But the bad ones, I would cherish. Tirelessly, I despair with the night, As you ceased to bid adieu. Staring blankly into nothing, I ponder; Loneliness, will it be lonelier without you?





CONFIDENTIAL To: Adam XXXXXX From: Rodgrigo XXXXXXX The war on drXXX will continue, as long as the ChineXX pays. You do not scare me, not one bit. The people will continue to follow, as long as my pile of bodies do not stench. They will not see my plans until it is enforced. It is a miracle, actually– that no one has caught up with what I am planning. I mean, from BonX XX and BatX DeXX XXsa winning, to ChXXX slowly taking over our vast sXXs. I cannot see why they cannot see it. Today, the bodies count to more than 12, XXX. Death is never obvious to those who do not dig under tombstones. The peoXXX will eat the dirt you feed. The peoXXX will not ask questions, as long as the graveyard is clean. The peoXXX will not ask because they do not believe in ghosts. The peoXXX will eat and eat the dirt I feed, until they are so buried underneath it that they cannot escape. Until they are so buried underneath it that they start seeing the extra corpses I buried under a tombstone. But that won’t matter; they are so underneath the dirt that it wouldn’t matter anymore. The peoXXX do not have powXX. You see, for one to successfully execute governance, you must let the peoXXX believe that they have powXX; that democXXXX is real. Make them believe that the pooX can survive, because once they do believe this, you can now gently suck the liXX out of them. The pooX was always the first one to go. First, cut off their fXXd and their source of incoXX. Then, cut off their wateX. Then, slowly raise the cXXt of livXXX. There are several ways to kiXX a person, but the subtlest is the most efficient and my administration works on efficiency. I have always dreamed of so much for the PhiliXXXXXX. I have dreamt of prosperity and success. What better success is there than an additional star to the sky, right? We have 3 stars, shining for us; why not add 2 more, right?

If you are wondering why I tell you this, I shall answer plainly. If there is something that I believe in, it is that you can only tell the truth to the dead. The people with the truth cannot handle its intensity. They will turn catatonic. There is danger in existence because one can never know the absolute truth. And, once known, one can always bend the absolute according to what is convenient. I tell you of the men I kilXXX because I believe that it will kill you, too. This truth will kill you because you can never tell anybody– I can always bend it according to what is convenient, remember? You do not stand a chance against this institution.

109

SCAM - 01 110 Gambit INT. LAFFLINE COMEDY BAR – MIDNIGHT Quiet jazz plays in the bar as people waited for the night’s guest comedian, Chaka. The scent of rum and maybe vodkafills the bar’s air. Everybody was drunk, a bit grumpy and sulky from waiting so long for that self-entitled comedian. By everybody, I meant the 22 people who sat there waiting. Alas, Chaka had arrived and was ready to grace the stages. But something was different. He seemed aloof and alien,seemingly not having any of it at all. He grabs his signature pink microphone from backstage, and heads on to plop himself on the bar stool at the center of the stage. The jazz music halts; odd silence enters. CHAKA (choked up) Annyeong-sa’yo! Mga ka-Chaka ko! Ang cha-chaka n’yo na! The audience sobers up and ROARS in admiration. CHAKA (CONT’D) Kanina, may nakasalubong akong AFAM diyan sa may kanto. Kagagaling ko lang sa Quiapo nun, nag-wish kay Pangy para sa destiny ko. Russian ata s’ya. Ewan ko ba dun, pero niyaya niya ako sa condo niya! Oh my God! Sabi ko, “Lord, ano ba ‘yan! ‘Di pa ‘ko handa for mature roles! Ang bilis mo namang narinig ‘yung prayers ko.” Everybody laughs in unison. Waiters flood in to take new rounds of orders of alcohol and pulutan from the eager audience. A glass shatters on the floor, but nobody pays much attention to it. CHAKA (CONT’D) So ayun, nakarating kami sa condo niya, then naglabas siya ng baril. Toy gun. Medyo kumalabog ‘yung dibdib ko nun, pero ‘kay. Mag-Russian Roulette daw kami. Napaisi p ako, punyeta naman. Ako pa talaga ‘yung napag-tri pan. Ito nga ‘yung baril. Oh. scorch

111 SCAM - 01 Chaka pulls out a toy gun, perhaps, but it looked real. It was a revolver, a pink one. Everybody gasped but laughed again. Chaka sighs deeply before putting the gun against his right temple, still holding his pink microphone on his left hand. BANG. THUD. People laughed, but Chaka was on the floor, dead, blood gushing from his temple. People laughed, nervously. Pretending, hoping that it was still a part of his show. scorch

SCAM - 02 112 Scripted Day 342, the stage is set, lights on for the day of the protagonist. The protagonist walks down the office halls, looking fresh and flawless as always. She is the ideal woman. The face of success—the goal. The pedestal of glory that makes everyone willing to kiss her ass. Well, not me. Never in this life nor the next. The people who worship her should worship me. Remove me from the scene and she will be nothing, from head to toe. A clam without a pearl. The dependent clause to an independent clause. The rusty crown plated with my gold. She’s nothing but a charlatan. A fraud enabled by me. A doll controlled by the strings on my hands, and she still does not understand that I control her. How naïve. The image of perfection will be distorted into a perfect image of imperfection. I will leave it up to your imagination on how ugly she can be. I can assure that you will wish that you never met her. Strip off all the perfectly fabricated lies and lines, she will be a nobody, a dying star. For now, I will roll the red carpet as long as everyone desires. After all, I am the playwright of her life. Her fantasy-like life will lay on a flower bed. Her real life is yet to start. LItestm’s ybetgimine, tsohashlliwnee.? scorch

113

SCAM - 03 114 Again My father was a soldier. He was a hero who cloaked himself in bravery and was steady in the face of danger. I wanted to be just like him. He died when I was 6, leaving only my mother and me. The tragedy, though devastating, did not sway my mother. She continued to love me with her whole heart, protecting me with everything she had. The way she stared told me she was afraid to lose me, just like how she lost her husband. Letting mother’s touches linger was the least I could do to soothe the ache in her heart. It was the most I could do to fill her. A year later, she told me I could help get rid of the pain for good. The first time it happened, I didn’t realize what was going on. I thought of my father, the man who was unafraid in any situation and faced every challenge head-on. “You look just like him.” “You shouldn’t be scared, it’s okay.” “You’re supposed to like it.” Today, I come home to the only woman I’ve ever loved. She lays in our bed unmoving, quiet, cold—but I proceed to make love to her the same way I’ve always known; just like the first time. scorch

115

SCAM- 04 116 Nang Malunod ang Isda: kung paano pumatay ang mundo Noong bata ako, ngunit iba ang hawak ng kamay sabi sa akin, bukod sa dinamita’y ang aming buhay. ang tubig ay ang aking tahanan. langoy, langoy, langoy, langoy. dito ako isinilang ngunit saan? dito ako hindi masasaktan palayo? masaktan man, ng ano? Dito rin ako maghihilom tubig? kahit mahapdi ang sugat saan pa ako pwedeng pumunta, sa tubig alat bukod sa lintik na tubig? dalawang taon ako nang unang makatanaw langoy, langoy, langoy, langoy. ng lambat na kulay luntian at bughaw walang takas akala ko ito ay ang kalangitan sa kailangang takasan ‘pagkat kakulay ng palagi kong tinatanaw walang nagsabing hindi ko ito dapat lapitan taksil ang mundo at ako ay lumangoy pinapaniwala tayo sapagkat sabi sa akin, walang mananakit na ligtas kung saan isinilang basta’t ako ay nasa tubig ngunit at ako ay lumangoy patungo mapanira ang dinamita. sapagkat sabi sa akin, mapanakit ang lambat. lahat ng nasa tubig ay kaibigan hindi niyo man lang ako pinaabot ng apat. at ako ay lumangoy patungo sa lambat sapagkat wala naman nagsabi tungkol sa mga taong nanghuhuli ang aking mga hasang, sa kalagitnaan ng karagatan, ay nauhaw para sa tubig at oksihenong aking iniibig heto ako ngayon, pagod at kulang ng isang palikpik tatlong taon naman ako nang may kumatok sa aming bankota, sino ‘yan? walang maayos na pag-anyaya ang kinailangan scorch ng bastos na kamay, walang galang nagngangalit, ako ay lumabas tanging katapangan ng bata lamang ang pinanghahawakan

117

118

119

120

121

SCAM - 05 122 Mahal kong Taripa Simple ang buhay sa baryo Pawang kaakibat ng pagiging magsasaka walang balita sa dyaryo ang paglibing sa pinagkakitaan dahil walang dugong dumadanak, sa lupa napakapayak at sinilangan. Ngunit ito ay ang baryo Pitong piso. bago si Taripa’y nanghimasok. Isa, para sa bawat araw ng linggo. O, Taripa ko, Mababa ang tingin walangya ka. ng tao sa salapi Ang lupa ng baryo ay lupa Sa aming mga nagsasaka. ng saka Ganito lang ang aming halaga? atsaka ng buhay Taripa, inilibing mo ako sapagkat ito ay humihinga. bilang pataba Isang nanay sa lupa ng saka. ng mga talulot at tubo Ginamit mo ako na kaniyang pinatutubo para sa kita Sa aruga, hanggang sa bumisita at pangingibang bansa. ang ama Taripa, mahal, ng ani. walangya ka. Ngunit Taripa, tinatangi, Taripa, minahal kita ang buhay ng baryo’y ngunit ikaw ay madaya. iyong iwinaglit. Isang manggagantso. Ngunit Taripa, sinta, Paano ko mamahalin ikaw ay anghel noong una. ang walang puso? Halimaw, anong nangyari? Halimaw, bakit mo ito ginawa? scorch Sa bagay, ang bawat anghel na itinatanim sa lupa, ay sumasama. Hindi mapapalitan ng ugat Ang pakpak. Inilibing mo ako sa lupa ng baryo. Wala pa ring limbag sa dyayo tungkol sa bukid na pinatay at sa dugong dumanak. Ilang buklat sa kalendaryo, wala pa rin ang sulat sa dyaryong alipin.

123

SCAM - 06 124 scorch An Epithet for Genius I dueled eyes with a fellow violinist In the backstage of the concert hall A glance at him would suffice an evaluation: His glare revealed a haughty demeanor And his expression was laced with venom Accented by an air of repulsive hubris My mouth thinned bitterly as I observed that In his grip was a Stradivarius The tosser had a legendary instrument I mused, it must be the cause of this bloated ego Had I less restraint I’d have strangled the wanker And vanquished that smug, conceited grin from existence He must think so highly of himself, a genius— Wait, there’s a better word; what’s that synonym— Never mind, I chastised myself, as he left for The stage in a pompous huff; now I wait to see How he justifies himself with his playing The tune of his violin penetrated the backstage I heard it distinctly; he’s playing Shostakovich’s First Violin Concerto; interesting of him, I mused It’s the first movement, a nocturne, tensioned and brooding All notes fall in place, the tempo is on point He’s in sync with the orchestra, I’ll give him that The fucker must have a bloody metronome in His head; it’s big enough, I daresay But the sounds he created remind me only of the music sheet Where’s the twilight? Where’s the dusk? The hell did he do with the emotion? The fuck happened to all nuance? This should be a nocturne; it’s French for night, for god’s sake! Now he’s at the second movement, a Scherzo, a comic piece Everything sounded right; the rests, the pitch The articulation, the tone; it’s eloquent like Cicero, but not fleshed like Sarasate; it felt equally wrong He’s playing it like he resurrected the score From the graveyards; it’s a scherzo It must be human; it needs the frailty The impassioned tragedy, the relentless misery His mechanical bowing gives me the wear and tear I found it agonising to listen to his passionless performance Hell, if the composer was a god, he’d been blasphemed And I’ll be the first to volunteer to execute the wretched git

125 SCAM - 06 So and so continued ‘till he finished the concerto And to my expected chagrin, the applause was colossal I sighed; it has always been like this One talented chap with a Stradivari appears And they revere him like he’s a fucking virtuoso But it is never just the skill; genius is the depth to which others cannot or refuse to fathom And yet that’s caveat So as I took to the stage of the concert hall I abruptly wondered once more what was that other word for genius— I tried to place the thought to rest as I played the first note—and Catch-22 be damned the visage of everyone else made it clear: the epithet was madness scorch

SCAM - 07 126 Lied on Bed 9 :00 am STahteurhdoatysensation of my overheating phone charger woke me up. Finally, weekends. My favorite part of the week. These are two blessed days without doing anything. Two blessed days of peace. 1 0:35 amIt took me more than an hour to get myself out of bed. I enjoyed my own company with the bittersweet aroma of my morning coffee. Hmmm, What should I do next? Haha! Who am I kidding? I’ll probably just do my usual weekend routine: Wake up, coffee, shower, eat, and binge watch cheesy series and movies till I fall asleep. 1 :00 pm After showering and eating my healthy pansit canton with one pack of giniling busog meal I got from 7/11 yesterday, I just went straight to my bed where I will be staying for the rest of the night, except when my bladder wants a break. Of course, I’d be watching Mean Girls for the nth time and— 8:45 pm ( phone viHbreaytiJoona)nna! Party later at Tipsy Bar. Our other friends will be there since finals are done. Hope to see you there, t’will be fun. Drinks on me don’t worry;) (Sent from Athena’s iPhone) 9:00 pm Athena! I’ll pass for now, I have a lot of things to do. scorch

127

SCAM - 08 128 Good Grief “Mister, why are you crying?” I asked the man who was kneeling in front of me. He only spared me a glance before bending it down and raising his arms to grasp mine. After a few seconds, I heard a sob come out of his lips and he took back one of his hands to wipe his eyes. Bringing it back to my forearm, I witnessed the light reflect on his wet knuckles. My attention was immediately redirected as I heard him speak. “I’m really sorry that you don’t understand,” he said. “What is it?” I asked him. Hearing no response from the man, I looked around the room decorated with plain white walls and white tiles. In the corner of the room, next to the window was an empty bed on top of a grey metal bed rack decorated with a light blue sheet and one pillow. “Where is grandma?” I asked the man. With my eyes focused on him, I watched him glance around the room, never meeting my gaze before bending his head down the second time. As the time dragged longer once again, I felt my heart drown in discomfort. “Mister, let’s find grandma. She will help me know. I saw a girl pushing grandma’s bed. She told me that grandma was covered with the blanket because she wants to rest. She told me not to bother grandma…” After explaining, I only felt his hands shake as it kept holding onto my arms. I was getting angrier and I felt something stuck inside my throat. I waited for him to speak but he only kept his head down and refused to talk to me. Finally, having enough of the deafening silence, I screamed at him. “Mister, please! Let’s find grandma!” I shouted as I curled my hands and hit his shoulders and chest with my fists. “Grandma will help me.” I cried. “Please.” The mister did not reply. Instead, he pulled me within his arms and buried his face on my neck. I heard him sniff a few times before speaking. “I’m sorry.” A few days after not seeing grandma, the mister took me to many places. We were accompanied by his friend who always wore a suit and carried a black case wherever we went. I’ve met many people whom I’ve never known before but claimed to be my relatives. Everyone said the same words. They told me that they’ve been looking for me. They told me that they wanted to take me in. They all told me that they missed me. That they love me… I don’t know what happened but after every time a relative has reached out to me, scorch

129 SCAM- 08 the mister’s friend would always talk to them and then we’ll leave the place. It took so long before we stopped going places to places. We always sat in the same car and I vomited a few times. The mister was kind to take care of me even though I ruined his car. I don’t understand but as soon as we found a beautiful woman within a city who told me that she was my aunt, we went back to the city and they wrote down in papers with their scribbly writing. I did not understand but I never saw the mister again. The mister had left me with her. Aunt’s house was just like the one that grandma and I used to live in. The walls had holes and the metal roof had rust. Everything was the same except for the woman in the house and the thick stack of blue bills sticking out of a brown envelope within the corner of a room. It was confusing. Grandma was not here to explain. scorch

SCAM - 09 130 Papadala Ang tatay ko ang pinakaastig sa mundo! r BAaemuplokaestor.indkaastanaPokoaunsrliagayysgaiuygnlaiaannntwgogasaalitataPnmaagpkabasoalJnihetasiadnuwgsnimptgoealruspoakadoinbitsaihan,tagmkswaoaapakpnaonlgaapppamuaralastniuskghgulawalnalaarpnknoaianmspgiaiTncntaautnsaraiyeyl.afarraaaymwieasnasna. Ngdiapnkiglpadakinnngga-. “Tatay mo ‘yan,” sagot ni Nanay nang tanungin ko kung sino ang lalaki. n“kTaaiagbtlaiagylaankTi.IHhMMainnaEgidXpita?iagt”ikmkpoanamnggalaiTklyiIunaMnbatwaEenXngkt.ook..oASpabaabn!agSnaadaawtnaagdkaaibshaimlbmaayukkamhsiaainnpggakmliakariyalaawmlaanannansaiamkToaatnasyaa. yakainngg mga mga Tumango si Nanay. Nagpigil pa ako ng tawa dahil ang gara’t baduy ng pangalan niya. trspn riiigynanabmaaaksnghaagaotTakmlmVaDaann.palgyaMolaalnkawnikanngamisonnapaoggnannnatmgasgdooaapalnwy(aalnnokp‘ay.baahuShoobinarnaP.wag.HawaoNpkiaana-mnkdpPgaaiagm(pntopaaaaowanmy,doaPaasgoniladyadpaaoaksnkoioPgonTnn)mrag.ataKaaawgygaas)aiplTyainatyaidgmtaasiLsanleaaixgTnngaggnVb.gga.sobiAkbanbaaeaatgmlponaenaasrgnioayrlaaastyiarssabkatwaiup.mnaaSnigia.yNtkaaBaatanapngntaaaogyagrnnaiongyal na kaklas“eHkao?nPoaoanngo kyuinnu?wEednitcorkuoshsangkannaynaasyikToattaayt.ay mo?” nagtatakang tanong ni Miguel Nagkibit-balikat ako, “Baka naman hindi Papa P pangalan.” kreusmtaaukraainnMt.sa(iBdyaaaklanistghnmianadrniinonkaa.nlNagnapkguakghapayaarpaJaowdllakilbaaeseni?isiMPyaaapnsagsiPmkaontdgpeamloygunangl.)aMraawxa’snn. aSaisaisnagngtalmitrpaotko naya sk paaamnreyphaao,ynkanaaSgmanpigah. buBmiluliigntiaagnkpapoualtkadinnaaygglanNdnaaagamnmmaityaa.nnMnagaoaykSdpoemleoseaaydrkahaawtnawysnaiaaykgaat-pnspiogasrTSeeaphtdeaoieynkdananmakaoisnsagahbbagoowwnnaa.khpD-aohba.aahwnilagkbniliaiybsoanakispoaansrgaa gpm sm E d miaaawygoabghaaya.ibinslKunmhaabanaakaembkuogskaalk“PSSaiuuAnkbiawsennpnagainrnkeugag.aoakla-.slaAbpkubuabaha,albpukniaalkrnoalwamenauialnthtanangaghmormgpgrsiia’aaainmkoyagkwndydauoytiat-niusnruolanmnoailantrloioaaayuo?gnNkwhanlHiiayaan.atikannNSinaLankagaaanoauaadnbynglmkpwii,aapoaTtniaaNyi,akagkansgnoatimahoaaknayPnnakyaaahaogghrtnympaaagni,tnttannantaoiiedpgtndiP.a”naia.Ngkyhatk.ootkaaionIknossypdouaanoasiy,sanan,kurnpai“gonnnaakNagdpnitahakaoeaannniinrntnsgdgiasargdiip’iDkntyinpouooakiaat.gn”dlioananaradNgmgamnnylamagasaangkonnmngbiibgakipMkrg.gieapaaPtai.ramyugaharunaipiaskeniunantblg,ngginshdinmagLyauiuoatypaiislnaddanatoha-tgaNuslikkauniwaosolnaani.dnnnnasoggyaaa scorch





July 17, 2019 Thursday Dr. Adam Clifford Therapist, Cyclothymic Manic-Depressive Disorder Specialist Unit Demisada Intervention Therapy Center I have always pitied how lonely I am to the extent that I needed to pay just so someone will listen. But I am lucky to have come to that point of desper- ation, to arrive to that different low, only to meet you. Adam, you were more of a friend than a therapist to me. I never in our sessions felt that you only wanted to drain my pockets and make my problems sound good. Instead, I felt genuine help, from someone that did not belong to my lineage or circle. So I understand that I must not pity my loneliness, for I am only misfortune incarnate- I merely intertwined with the wrong people. I am sending you this email to tell you of a personality breakthrough. Back then, I never knew what to answer when you asked me why I cut, but now, I am proud and ashamed to tell you that I finally understand, why I am to an extent addicted to cutting. As you already understand, and as I will reiterate for clarity purposes: I cut two weeks ago, and this letter is my official permission to break my promise. Theoretically, I no longer deserve your permission as the deed is already done; but to honour our friendship, I inform you afterwards, and I want you to under- stand that I am sorry. I was mistaken. I was manic when I promised you that I will no longer cut. I recall that I even had the audacity to bet my house at the promise, but you knew better. You declined, maybe you knew after all that I could not deliver. But believe me, I tried, Adam. At the lowest moment, I tried to throw away every sharp thing that I could have used. I relieved my room of knives, cutters, and scissors, but the itch kept kicking in. So without pause and thought, I found myself at a violent trance, search- ing for something to dig unto my skin. The only things I left at my room were office supplies. But I couldn’t inflict papercut, nor could I feel the small sting of a pen, so when I saw my stapler, I dismantled it. I severed the barrel and separated one charge from the rest, and dug directly and made several marks; equidistant and parallel to each other. The blood flew well. It imitates the way my wet paint fell from the canvas when I diluted the brush too much. The itch disappeared immediately after I made my marks. I’m well now. I awoke for the past days with my sleeve coated with ointment. You were right about my mother. I faked being

asleep yesterday, and she slid in my room at the middle of the night and carefully damped Trimycin Unilab on my cuts with cottonbuds. She was crying as she tried to make me heal. I feel bad for doing so. But I know I cannot promise to her too that I will stop cutting. Because I can’t, and I know it would break her heart more if I still cut after I promised that I won’t anymore. But as countermeasure and counterfeit to this glitch in our friendship of absolute promises, I give you this oath—a covenant, as your religious people call. Hence, it shall not be broken, or twisted under any circumstance, and tam- pering of it would mean dishonor to my cow, and my people. I promise not to hurt myself too much. I swear with my life, that I will not deal damage to myself that I know I cannot take, and I will see the sun rise no matter how dark the dusk becomes. I will only take dosages of what I need, and what I can take. I will not overdose. Because believe me, I do not want to die. I just want an escape, a dis- traction, a glimpse of hope from bloodshed amidst breakdowns and teardrops. Because some things do not hurt as much as they seem, Adam. Physical pain feels more tangible than emotional agony and mental dysphoria, and the pain of wounds feel more real, more bearable. So by cutting, the effects of gaslighting from childhood indoctrination that states that my condition is not real is tempo- rarily acknowledged and repelled at the same time. For I am reminded, that my wounds are for a moment—real, and like real wounds, they will soon heal. I wish I could heal sooner, Adam. I wish to feel real things. Apologetically, Edith Crown

135 SURVIVAL - 01 (MaPbauabnuohakya, Masmdfadmfsastfay)? Panuto: Punan ang patlang ng tamang sagot. 1) Kinuha ko ang aking (punyal, puso) at hinawakan ito nang mahigpit. 2) Ako ay takot na (mabuhay, mamatay) sa mundong hindi (ako, ko) kilala. 3) Kaya naman ang (punyal, puso) kong ito 4) ay aking (sisilaban, itatago) 5) Upang hindi na ako (makapanakit, masaktan) pang muli.

SURVIVAL - 02 136 Ang Mundo sa Perspektibo ng Isang Bulag Ang ibig sabihin ng pagmamahal ay matatagpuan sa hibla-hiblang mga salitang magkasalungat ang ibig sabihin na masusi namang isusulsi ng mga salitang nagkakasundo sa kahulugan. Isuot ang natahing damit panlamig sa mga buwan ng -ber. pangontra sa lamig- iyan ang pag-ibig Ingatan itong mailapat sa ulam na hamonado tuwing pasko ngunit huwag matakot na madungisan ito. Pwedeng labhan, ibilad at paarawan at suoting muli katulad ng dati. Ngunit kapag sobra sa laba’y, kumupas pagtitimpi sa unti-unting pumapanaw - iyan ang pag-ibig sa tag-init naman ay hubarin kung kailangan baka hindi makahinga dahil pinawisan pagiging panatag na may babalikan at pagtitiwala sa panandaliang nilisan ngunit hindi pinabayaan ito ang pag-ibig ang paborito kong damit scorch

137 SURVIVAL - 03 Asin a knugmlaukhaalaSomapamnwialialsan.ggksitiknmauhraa.nHgiinndnigmMawayanriilsaa nkaagndiluarnugsamaandgurmunggaispnasalimt unkahianikinudnag aalning p aslit angHnaabpaanugpboiantatbuamybaanygaisnngalnugmmanaglarkialesshnaabahnaglossunmaitsaibguawnannannag npgaudluitm-uil,iti.sa sa mga Nagugutom na ako. nkKnaaaupbnlaiugnthiypdaaay. a.nNNnNgaoanampaalaagnltamagilgatikiuglanbanaiinynigyag.gaknnpaoganosniniygkgaamnnsguaiyyrmaasgaaaayy kpnbaaialmgtaallaaalypmaaakataknkduaannlaogtlaoplmbuaamapnnai.ganPngnaoogrnastuiiytsboaaingukgmmainsuiaiylynaaagksnaagdlmaanahgaliaakl tnasubaamamgbauautttaolaigmnnaggs. b inalutanLnugmkaakdiesnaanhgirnapakaattanligsaayoknanaiyyannagrmitogapkaarpiant.idN. apatungan ng koronang tinik at Npn aaillbiigpaiokdna. pnPuiaymtaualanotaywpniaannaugumpkioaiynnaiykiyaaanngsgakkatapanabitiyindagn, tgkuaklalasdpaadntagidka.anAngniymganlgagamakimgapaa’ayttiinndaaphnaaalbitnaaannmgnatgtuatmyakistoaintg.guTitnaokmsoat. Dito lang kayo. ‘Wag kayong mag-alala. Makakain kayo ngayong araw. aimsttaauynnrtoteion-ungnNantgoianaogdgnbegsnbiaaleapnnnugtgpatupannkagnootlpanaamgygkanpnaaaigpgn--a.saliKisktauamnnaugnnrgmag khtaaaakpnnaaigkyngaagakn,nugtgluidmmsiawbakkaaitbnhsoaaibybsuaiayknkaagapshasainipty.uaisnaatyasnatugbmbawainyaagtniins. tAsaanlitgmeaggayaa pi satalanptuenlsguTwhialaanla.naggilnaanggbanbaaknattaiyti.gBasgao bpiabimktaikmaadhaimn,podtaaliy-dbaiglilansigyamnagy shuummuagwoadk spaapkaunnityaansga dn igbudniibt nmaNansagthnigugimulamnigipssaiitatanangkgontpaasatagbkaiganakgdalkanalaapkisteinnaigtgialnawulatnukgsiasknaasnkiyiayananinygga‘.wisKaipugamtnaatbankoabgtoul.amloakabnog pkaapnaiylaaynog, p akamaoI.sang maliit na plastik ang nilagay sa kaniyang palad at sapilitan itong ipinatikom l ang ‘yan.Dalhin mo dun sa kabila. Kung may magtanong kung ano ‘yan, sabihin mo asin lhailpankoi thisambBaoinn, gihtiihnwadawinnaakiyt aaitnkingauapglaaakkdesntieayraningpiagalsaaiynnog.nsTaigunalgiwronn,aglkuammbguaakkanasdakasani-ygaaspusaallnaddair.ueTnkisilpyaoornnmanseaassialianplaaimbliiginndgg. Isang malakas na busina ang gumising sa kaniya at lumingon. scorch

SURVIVAL - 04 138 k anugmlaukhaalaSomapamnwialialsan.ggksitiknmauhraa.nHgiinndnigmMawayanriilsaa nkaagndiluarnugsamaandgurmunggaispnasalimt unkahianikinudnag aalning p aslit angHnaabpaanugpboiantatbuamybaanygaisnngalnugmmanaglarkialesshnaabahnaglossunmaitsaibguawnannannag npgaudluitm-uil,iti.sa sa mga Nagugutom na ako. knKnaaaupbnlaiugnthiypdaaay. a.nNNnNgaoanampaalaagnltamagilgatikiuglanbanaiinynigyag.gaknnpaoganosniniygkgaamnnsguaiyyrmaasgaaaayy kpnbaaialmgtaallaaalypmaaakataknkduaannlaogtlaoplmbuaamapnnai.ganPngnaoogrnastuiiytsboaaingukgmmainsuiaiylynaaagksnaagdlmaanahgaliaakl tnasubaamamgbauautttaolaigmnnaggs. binalutanLnugmkaakdiesnaanhgirnapakaattanligsaayoknanaiyyannagrmitogapkaarpiant.idN. apatungan ng koronang tinik at pNn aaillbiigpaiokdna. pnPuiaymtaualanotaywpniaannaugumpkioaiynnaiykiyaaanngsgakkatapanabitiyindagn, tgkuaklalasdpaadntagidka.anAngniymganlgagamakimgapaa’ayttiinndaaphnaaalbitnaaannmgnatgtuatmyakistoaintg.guTitnaokmsoat. Dito lang kayo. ‘Wag kayong mag-alala. Makakain kayo ngayong araw. mi asttaauynnrtoteion-ungnNantgoianaogdgnbegsnbiaaleapnnnugtgpatupannkagnootlpanaamgygkanpnaaaigpgn--a.saliKisktauamnnaugnnrgmag khtaaaakpnnaaigkyngaagakn,nugtgluidmmsiawbakkaaitbnhsoaaibybsuaiayknkaagapshasainipty.uaisnaatyasnatugbmbawainyaagtniins. tAsaanlitgmeaggayaa p isatalanptuenlsguTwhialaanla.naggilnaanggbanbaaknattaiyti.gBasgao bpiabimktaikmaadhaimn,podtaaliy-dbaiglilansigyamnagy shuummuagwoadk spaapkaunnityaansga ndigbudniibt nmaNansagthnigugimulamnigipssaiitatanangkgontpaasatagbkaiganakgdalkanalaapkisteinnaigtgialnawulatnukgsiasknaasnkiyiayananinygga‘.wisKaipugamtnaatbankoabgtoul.amloakabnog pkaapnaiylaaynog, p akamaoI.sang maliit na plastik ang nilagay sa kaniyang palad at sapilitan itong ipinatikom l ang ‘yan.Dalhin mo dun sa kabila. Kung may magtanong kung ano ‘yan, sabihin mo asin l hailpankoi thisambBaoinn, gihtiihnwadawinnaakiyt aaitnkingauapglaaakkdesntieayraningpiagalsaaiynnog.nsTaigunalgiwronn,aglkuammbguaakkanasdakasani-ygaaspusaallnaddair.ueTnkisilpyaoornnmanseaassialianplaaimbliiginndgg. Isang malakas na busina ang gumising sa kaniya at lumingon. scorch

139

SURVIVAL - 05 140 Consequence There are banlodoidntsotayionusrcmleainndedasfryoomu the carpet. The smell of bleach still burns through your nose desperately wish nobody would notice the bruises already marking your skin. andYsopurekaedeplilkyeinwg itlodfyioreurtsherlof.uYgohuopurteetvenerdytphaarttyoofuydoounr’tbkondoyw. Twhheobumrankinesgtthuernflsaminetos burn wreaanlitzeanydouit’ws filrlignhottenchinagngheo—wyboluincdainngniottisc.hDanugsek—cobveecrasutsheecehaarnthgitnhgewsaomuledmmoemanenlot syionug your compass, losing sight of that island known as Identity. h appenedAalrieghctobnufilrbmfalitcioknerstoaswyhoaut lay in a bed that is not yours. The events that just you already know. You can’t recall the name of the person beside you, but the way the light bounces off their skin is only one of the countless things taking your breath away. For the first time in your life, it felt right. Something so right should not feel so horrifyingly wrong. The leaves crunch under your feet. You’re running now. Far, far away. Because now, reality is a constant slap to the face; a minefield where your next estveeprycdoauyl.dTmheeyanarthe ethene dt.hTinhebparilrliseryothuattakkeeeaprse like little reminders, you tick-off each one Insanity. you from falling into a blackhole named Does finding a piece of yourself deserve this much ache? There are sftriollmbrtuhiespesasytoyuoucowniclel anlefvreormgetthreidreostf,olfiktehea world for discovery is the true terror. Bruises cold you can never shake. Bruises from hidden pleasures that make your throat close up with so much guilt your eyes water. Cold rain mixes with hot tears, and for a moment you consider that the world is filled only with gray spots. What happens after the storm is solely up to you. scorch

141 SURVIVAL - 06 Ang Paborito kong Damit Ang ibig sabihin ng pagmamahal ay matatagpuan sa hibla-hiblang mga salitang magkasalungat ang ibig sabihin na masusi namang isusulsi ng mga salitang nagkakasundo sa kahulugan. Isuot ang natahing damit panlamig sa mga buwan ng -ber. pangontra sa lamig- iyan ang pag-ibig Ingatan itong mailapat sa ulam na hamonado tuwing pasko ngunit huwag matakot na madungisan ito. Pwedeng labhan, ibilad at paarawan at suoting muli katulad ng dati. Ngunit kapag sobra sa laba’y, kumupas pagtitimpi sa unti-unting pumapanaw - iyan ang pag-ibig sa tag-init naman ay hubarin kung kailangan baka hindi makahinga dahil pinawisan pagiging panatag na may babalikan at pagtitiwala sa panandaliang nilisan ngunit hindi pinabayaan ito ang pag-ibig ang paborito kong damit scorch