SCORCH - PANANAW Volume 3

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SURVIVAL - 07 148 Subukan Mong Buhatin ang Bato sa Iyong Rosaryo Ang pasko ay sumapit Tayo ay mangagsi-awit May dila na sumabit dumulas, ano nga ba ang pag-ibig? Hpn oai.nitdoi kayo tg“uBanwilaiayinnnaaapnnogakmgabyaiobgsinginaituyonnsgwgaemlrintgega,,hknwignuidnnitiaktsom, biitunorslaiobnleoabyye,nkattaair,loaasnkagirnaynon..aKPlauanmnggpsaaansnwgaem.rPtgeaauppmouailtsnoeh!r”ians kltrn aaaaimtwmmalakiaanwlanagsaosistanaaMnsgpna,oganbhrsaaaaahktnmnaiiagnnsikggdnaaaiabkintsuoigiinmynhilagola,akbnbtnaaaaaasghltbruhlnaaahrigsmnausptdlaaiiininr.narggaadgwdaotkaa,khtoarat.ialalMbaysagaaah-irnamuuyghmagmanaingamrnytaiiuwdnynaagklt.naiaHnansngagi naabpgnnaaaggrmialaapk—kkoaiipsnnkwagganeysmrgamthregiunalailng.ido‘sYianitgamognu,,irtnnyo,uagmntunugngatguimstulaogslbogaai hindi nahuhuli ang mga nanghuhuli. Nang si Kristo’y isinilang may tatlong haring naalipungatan at ang bawat isa’y kumaripas ng takbo kung sino ang diyos-diyosan bb aenkatamkaokMsaahaamdnagalaapseaaskktouodnnyggadknauteimbriaigtdaoan.aHonimnsadapigaunalaarnaaltgaa.nngilma aklaaiplaitnsgaansimngbaphaamnpkaashwietrmtea. tWamallaaylaanngg, mmaammai aattdMpaaadpyiay—tuawntgaapgnoapsraimrlaininsisgaaknmopg. ainsauiimklui spuanndiolasiatom, ngaagiegsitnugdmyaantaet ptuawnianglamhaapnogn, .mMadinaslaasn, Nasaan kaya yung mami at dadi ko? Bakit walang sumusundo sa akin? Bagong Taon, magbabago ba ang buhay Nang lumigaya naman ang patay Tayo’y magsikap upang makamtan Natin ang kaligayahan Ang pasko ay sumapit ngunit ito ay aalis ulit Ano ang saysay ng pag-awit Kung ang bawat isa’y, naputulan ng tenga at binaril pa sa paa ra omsainrynoi.nAMyotaebs, aikbyuialyhaain,nga. lLpaiambsrkenoinydaoaphboial ?amnMagbasesanmmtapaaabngigguaiattakaiknnuggnmmg gpgaaakpbyaaamtwopkaatsauykowrnuegrstbesa,iblarilolio.sanrayoyuknugnmg gsaa scorch

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SURVIVAL - 08 150 Mrs. Potato Head She had seen this lady before, void of any emotion. She heaved a deep sigh and started with her usual routine. She would paint her lips red once and think it is not enough. She would paint them again; and still displeased, she would do it for the third time. Gazing at her wavy curls, she would think that they are the epitome of perfection, when she knew for a fact that they were faux. She felt like she was on top of the world, like she always did. But then she overheard one of her friends enunciating how a sleek look would’ve been better. She was dumbfounded. girl w“iFthucjekt, bI lparcokbhabailyr. look like shit!” She grumbles in her mind, narrowing her eyes to the She was tired of feeling this way—sick of pretending. She was tired of all this and everything it came with. The worst part is, she had brought this unto herself and she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to; else—her reputation would be damned. Often, she had thought of giving it all up—the fame, the look, the attitude. But “No!”, the voices in her head scream; “Society demands it! They’d be disgusted of you!” As she stared at herself in the mirror, she decided she’d put her hair down and dye it black as well; thinking of the hearty compliments she’d reap. When she was done, she tried so hard to smile but could not bring herself to do so. She didn’t feel beautiful at all. She lived in a façade of lavishness but in truth, she is a fool. She is absurd! tha“tYaofutear raellnotht itsh, issh,” eshweotualldkesdtitlol her reflection. She couldn’t take it anymore but she knew do the “routine” for she was terrified—terrified of whispers turning into talking and talking turning into screams. She was terrified. Tears of mascara shot off her eyes like bullets. Her once pale lips, now drenched in product; her eyelids and cheeks, stained to the very core. Her fair complexion, now tanned; and her once thick brows, thinned. This is how she saves her ego; this is how she is a puppet to society’s words—and this is how she will slowly fuck her life over. And as she continued to gaze at herself in the mirror, she brought her fingers to the scar that had brought about all this; scrutinizing it like all hell would break loose. She needs a slap in the face. scorch

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SURVIVAL - 09 152 Langit, Tubig, Impyerno Bago lumubog ang bangka, kailangan matupad ang hiling ng Propesiya. Labing-isang tao na hindi magkakakilala ang nasa huling hatol para muling bigyan ng pagkakataong muling mabuhay. Sampung minuto ang ibibigay na oras para pag-usapan kung sino ang mananatili sa bangka at magpaparaya. Siyam-siyam ang aabutin para makapagdesisyon. Walang gustong magparaya. Walong tao ang umamin ng kanilang mga kasalanan. Pitong mabibigat na kasalanan ang nagpapabigat sa bangka. Anim na daliri ang nagturuan sa isa’t isa. Limang minuto ang nalalabi. Apat ang pinipilit patalunin paalis ng bangka, nagbubunuan, naghihilahan pababa. Tatlo ang magkakahagkan at umiiyak. Dalawang mukha ang huling nadatnan. Isang bangka ang lumubog Walang natira. Ano ang malungkot? Lahat ay marunong lumangoy. Ano ang hatol? Walang pangalawang pagkakataon ang mga gahaman. scorch

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155 Dearest Adam, Hey there, buddy. Do you remember how, when we were kids, mother used to tuck us in every night? How we always turned our head away when mother tried to plant a kiss on our cheek? We always said that it made us less tough. Do you remember how we played in the meadows every afternoon? How the flowers swayed with the wind? How the sky was always so blue even on rainy days? I miss home. I think that you do too. I remember that we always loved flowers. I remember how some of the kids we played with would make fun of us whenever we reasoned that not all yellow flowers were the same, saying that we were such nerds. But we did not care because the yellow flowers were our favourite. We would say that dahlias were overrated—sure, they were pretty and meant beauty strength and elegance, but they only bloom once a year. We were always fond of chrysanthemums, they were edible after all. We were always fascinated with marigolds because they meant happiness but also death, in Mexico. We always wondered if we would bring marigolds to someone’s wedding or funeral or birthday and wonder if they would thank or hate us. I remember that carnations were our favorite. I remember that we gave a bouquet of them to mother when we were 10 for mothers’ day. We explained to mother that it was adoring that carnations were the people’s favorite gift for mothers’ day despite it representing rejection and disappointment. We said that we hoped she liked it despite the meaning because if she did then it meant that she would like us too. I remember her crying and us not understanding why and then I remembered why carnations were our favorite. I remember that it always amazed us, how sad things can be beautiful when loved properly. Do you remember the painter, Vincent, who thought that eating yellow paint would make him happy? Is that why we love yellow flowers? The people we’ve been with have always taught us that happiness is something we should have before we die, but at what cost? Sanity? Happiness is not always yellow. Yellow is also the color of leaves dying, tomatoes

156 rotting and papers aging. Happiness is not always yellow, like the flowers we love. We learned that the first time we cleaned mother’s vomit after her first chemotherapy. Happi- ness is also warmth, like the hugs mother gave. So, loving Vincent was wrong. He should have ate the sun. Swallow the sun, Adam. Place it beside your heart and let it warm your insides, like how your cup of coffee every morning does. Let its flares lick your ribs until you can tame its heat. Let it scorch you but remember that at its death, it will become a black hole that will swallow everything, but is that not what happiness is? A temporary feeling? Do not let its death draw you in. When the cold returns, and it will return, hug yourself. Be the sun and hug oth- ers as well. The warmth heals, Adam, the warmth heals. Today, it is cold. Tomorrow, who knows? You deserve something that feels like home, with mother and our yellow flowers. You will be happy soon. I think of you deeply. I hope that you are taking good care of yourself, whenever you are in the future. With the warmth of the sun, Adam. You. Us (Or whatever name we go about on the day you read this.)

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SELF - 01 158 Baka Pinag-isipan sws ianallduaignaagnrbgnBaaahakhikidinintgndagpikakiongo-tneikranialnsaly,dloaai.ttnom.?TaWagniaggligasaianpkgkononagnlaamnngaaaamlkaolaan,nna‘yniugwnbagilgaklnuaganndkiapstyaitmoinnignksona.anA-bmlaakimnasskannogn—gslaupypastaaagyyi, pk aapg-ailraarlaknAoklanomaakyakpsoainlraailgnahygakpluoanngggtammlikaaobladusbakutohswaayyerpwtaea,alakatnos.gaKsluuangsaaglroskausaann-gasksaaianangnkmtaisnuiglaiinknog. Amnalaapbmaupbukupohunangytaaa.nngg hindi, iisaTulawnignngammaapnaapnagdpgaindagaakwoasakoi—sanugmluuwgia.r na hindi ko tahanan, kilala ko man o Daa nnnaopgoonapnpgaalloagignroUaigddsm,.aaukukmowonuim.awka‘iYga.upiDgnaiogsinponaangpm, abmahunaikngapgisgaa.ilnAanggalainmmganamkhgoiamnshiginbmiapnsbagayibnadigpa.anwHiaaininnngdgaliyatkuhsolaaotk,gaakkikalioahnn.i.tgTTaagunmawgaanimnongaamgmn-aaaanlnlaikllsiaagiiakniwnuganayogy. Kaya iyon ang ginawa ko, hinanap ko ulit ang daan pabalik sa aming tahanan. pCbs aiaanuhttlhaouyea.kdn8org9a‘Sl1yp.aa5uSntkAe.iamnStsatoaeotknnogathiiattouandnLnoaa,ua, nynwwa,aanaplSl,aiatdnnnriagegyseaabtnpu.ailAklnoaotlnuidptgra,aaygw,atnaatwgalgaaa,anlBkagsnoaatkgrmeairnbnariaagnncaateisya.anIMhHnaaa,ainynli.idsgMaaiannaayggpkaou.dprBiamoralelahaknpgasaakyygoaks.knaaasMtimaaaatbanyilmgin.muugSkatapalhuakuakltokiinnnnogggg. b mkuauhnladiyai.syyPhoeKnirnoadkyaioank,gkonahakhiairilaatalplwaalk.aaaAlasknionkgaaphpaaiakrargoipnnmhgikanmunanaampgaailanslaalansagnmakbaaoakthanopaayornaskgpuatannotgdguowam,kaausltiawdanenig.ngNktleuuanmgkgaiakrnkikalaaguulbnasiaggkpasoaysaapsnkaaianark.iknoPinuiaitrnnaagg.l SM nslKtpPsaiiaaaeinunnyarggpnaglagokaisagpnahaamlnatabkkaaanhgatoiipknggiannPoninylatgipgsegakowkraaianobooagkdiknga,llkoiiau,,nsrwiininlklenranaagkiuglaanlniiasansnggkyns,igangsaio,mhwnikawngaaanmaa,akbaklnitwilyiaaaaaaanannmtii,algngamnpymasnmaapinanagamnagmrggagarighgaanhnmeantah.aimamannanagnlkaiasaaipagp.ga,tpboasaPnsnoiwaaanahgtrnagagaianpkkgllbakiioiapanymlontalnaaaanigmgpkykkosaaoaaoauolmsmi.nhlnka,igPa,aagkamnlsataihaangbgnapnikggagnniaataaltadyaautnnmnikangtaappaaiiangdnanolkalgksgoannpa,ioalndkiaauynkukomiomgnun,awnngaaddik.iyryg,apKak,aapayakanmaataagtytgtn-habakhagyoaaiiasnainkolnilawtigiaangadlnpulai.oyaingnir,aHnonainamnmtiayapnkgpanaiah‘onantakgyuoaggisapmnby-ialaybauaiunaagalahhgar,gankaaalsaoaynrpogat.... a NtClaRh.aNt naPgkianskaaakstoaaupwloanisktaoansaigksipnilranonbogionnbsiyngaki.aIPnsaianbyoalratihtpoaatkknoingpglaagnnangd.mbEaawnrkgasgnis.taiHnPiinnliodpoiinnkaoasn.agLlaaMmhaI.MtMnAgaRtraeOghaPiyAl onnaat, yata akong praning. Ipinangako rin sa akin ni inay na hindi na niya babaguhin ang itsura ng bahay para sa akin, scorch

159 SELF - 01 apppankiaaniyrgnaaagkppraaabamguw‘hplasaagkahgaa.alhPindniaaatgrptaminnaraagaygbwnbpoaglyaagnsgboaciaotaaahukgnatogysan.akpgSoaaahmnliagaginnkimdd.inaaa.gtyIatptohaagiagnpnhdugiigapanai,knkpoaoakmlaiatmgoail,ailhanitgiiglamapwliaa.tgknKyaiaapynyaaagnnpggiaabpiainalniahnoyi.nmAnggakanoabkkakoaraishlni iaaarnnnapggg mimskppaaaunaataangtdnowilagtukilansitnniuogt.gobm,KPmhssaauaauikalnwbaauyanmolasopg.gaiaannnpndggaaastnwknaoogahksaaalrknanaoahbawnaandthg.a‘aGynymyuuga,nahwsbgaaiadpnknhaaa,kidrladiaoatmlnarwmalagaawnamndpgiduat-naongiwisoaypi,tpaainnalriaotagmatsdmunaaamgakrygaaaadatnkiklanbiiiyyngnoualga,ihhynaaaortgnannakng,noaggigplghaiaognihgnp.guddigPthiuuakikmtrnoiiadnlaartiraliaaanwnnnwgaggadkgmtbaaaaawydoaragiaaalinnnnnagggggt pGaklaaiaynlbaa.igNhniniagngukdPdnaiausiatnimkwaaokutaaodnlganuanghnagkiguhoabmiwnirluagaspunimawginniang.akgMyhakkasaaanaldaualbiapwlobiiminarsaiaa.nknnNoagaanndbgggaahmhhimhaialiyatn.amktaakakoyna.,atkNunaamaytgaibalniaansalgahsalimahi.ilaraMnawpaananynaghtainalkiawogaanbnkgagbmnataaaghklaanialmnaglapaanapa,ronaaygt., ptnpuaaawugp-laiinigti-gsouidpbl..iiNtn.AHaalibiainanmdntiignkgndoaainhmngaialnawnkaakoklaaorns.iignSngipniwaluakbaiualaakklnaoamgnppkiaanonkaginpaaaltananmosaimnsaa,nahgntaitndoaaaotbkisoa, aylpaekkraohotiunpalkdaaodi nnlkgaaoanln.aggnKdghiinnianukndlobaiimttuuampwnaaid‘aynnuaagnnnagggl sb piianginahnaaygh.gaSanKNaaaaakptyikonaasghapiahnabmipnakagndooagi,sh.npkiaNolnagakdlnpaailaaasgnukasaalwiidntnunalaaskagnuopgbhapuiapnakkaudaokwin,igtkika.oamynkagaaykppaiapnagang-gug-kwaualsiauanaspaypnhsignainbsdtiaaiwoikn.aoatDymdinraaeaagtnnasgwy. oadHnaanghnaiklaapllaau,mmslaiaapknniongg, deretsyo, lakad. Iyan lamang ang buhay. Paulit-ulit, ulit. nwnaaanglalganlkgaakbuaaBndhta.iikNdaintangkagakpiaonaatlnleiignwairsd.iyH.tooMni?n.aWdMliiwaanladainyialaaikmgaokr,nionnggianmuniniagwiataalskanali.pan,Aagtnlaalinamwningakolaoa.nnnSggignihkulaiasnwutidntniidngaagkbnounawankaaobgnan-kuiiiatpsosaa.nhngagbmsaanaykgsiaatyak,okn’oyi baMbga tpLurnaiiiunlngrawginnostyaiaa.ilklnyblnaSaySaahiamonptb,ar,nwaiataeAsggreleeaenaahntrnhbpt.g,tgogaaieIat-sskdmplagnk.aaiakareamalAloteatyaolbkwypankhosunaaaogyalng,dnaaown,,knmgynamauo.Cka.snnaGaeraUtg.nykmtuKwghmmmateaaeitln.aaayduaktgymUl-rnoiaghaltutk.apuialaniwl.Matnonaagrin,aSgyaapmahianypndkagiantkoipnakangp.bnltbiauaUangaikpgan,inulalngkguabgnwagkgsnagkiaaakphaara.uunsal,pakilNtyahuannio—kamlaasg?aansass.pbPaaaaegIanobapmyibsa,gitioknnanennknisaonlagaka,?tnsnisewaiilaggAbtadbnaanabohploan.gaa,.alngKnaahUdwaannguaelny.ayanrb.a.y,lwgaanIKaakynatwgyuonoagunahngdlnagap,aaka—kwi,knnnobmiag.gt9nalu1aanSabbrgn5kagaaahga,h,rAuaitaatlwinnenanynrna.aatdgrophAlgnaaanaacnnnainnaenogggt.,, Sunod. NaglakadMakagolapkaapdunptaauswai.laMmapgapraahnignpgaagkkuankgapkuinlaa,kaatiliaynognasni.inay. Iyon ang bahay. Nakauwi scorch

SELF - 01 160 Pnknaaiuyimlaaaknayosgao.atkaHnnsikgnioydmapi aaannglaaagmdak,kaainopnainkwiuanahnanignnagtknaakygyaannlaidmkaionpdaaopyra.nannHgggpinmipnaaahtgugakbananudkkasaaapsnudinylialgai.mInps.iainnytauarataand.oanMngeiydkayamoanamgpapahirniartaosp.a,Gdaukashitniol. K adilimaKnimnauplai aknog asunmg aklaunbdoandgosnagakpiinn.tBuainnu. kMsaantakgoumanpgapyinaktoo. sa pagbubukas ng pinto. sandaling“‘pMaag.h‘iMntao! s‘Ma pa?ag‘Mitaan?!nNgabkaawuwatipnaagptaowaakgo. !” Paulit-ulit kong tinatawag si inay, may a gad ang“KkAaanmmapaka,pndatirteaoasskaaoak.kwAinalargtmom.”kaShouimkmabasiignnoggt nspiaailnpaaagygi.taukloong.g may mauuwian, at palaging handa kk uorayleanmtek.WHuinanlgdaminkaaomdanalaninnagkamaornaagwnrmeoload.baWupkiatslhaanadpaionnngnaainlmagwagn. iPgnuaanrgaadwlia—nwaannniahkmion.adni yata, o wala na namang ko alam ang oras. Hindi ah aMPl anliuyitagkmaoka.tanubaNpgptoalakuonngtnSBsipgolgaiaiaakngnpkhtaluagaaaalnludahnnatgbiggyokno,igopugnmn.uam.agButnHkuianngailahtnagankiandkkoagpaii.ny”innknaagnotnpkuitgaiourtaoihnmnn.ogpaaaPadniylnua..gakraUkonna“onAsasnat.ihninmgT-aa,uunmkagnmga,uatpisabattntanuaoannaglgonkggagloggsaCamnnna.kaataeHahgnsnesiagnada,nmsdmrapaaiuaralka.gnraodKopnaoanianbnhkaaugai.nnrihplgagaaAamannaty.kaggdoNkiaiansnnamngkakgnmanaoauknggpalgaapsaanaanmanhkgggsaiioangttdaa,pgk.w.apamAdmiurnegrianroga.. Wpinalaagnggisni“niO-gkapanoti,tki‘omngann.gAaaytnoagnla.lhaBiyboukopiddoa,nmagnogn. Aadrlaaamtginainngggk-poalaanrgugaa-pyaonarngo.l.uASpluaammina,msianoyaaybw.”a a‘mnga,mangga gbaunladkalankg. n a anak, m“Gaagnpuanhibnagaankaakn? aM.”abuti naman at nakauwi ka. Ang layo pala ng narating mo. Sige “Opo. Inay.” Raaa akktkkkoianooinmsna.nuggkAdgmamadluiamhniassbiayP?andkpyiHdinnoa.biwiWai.nkakkBnidaaoatilgilngaikkmnglmonoaauaaaamnmtkklnaaaiaagnnamainnlglaaiaaaggknmkmlaingonn.agaa.agWngnaBlghmaaapigallkigaamnlloairagnknoaik,amgngnmolaggaanntkatsapgaunaab,uldnnuiamat.tkattaia-auoUkssulpn.aaninnuglRtdtaainin-uanpounamlgaonkasdataapnnialnnuigmaamggmkkauinakkabnltiayoiugannmannmgpgbgguaadaitbnsmgiaaaliganagnbaa,.ayigtkahtatohilkannbiaknn.giboggWdanlmiaaagsnaklaaaktgyiunonanhngkaaaoaimlnsmdkaugaam.gnnlMiad.omaigAabkmuslodaataannaiymtbnggaa. maBy amkaahamlaagya nakaiolanpgaggamakiot nsagbgualmsaitnakudnapgatsakaonn.gBiuawkai. nakalimutan kong pulutin. Baka Hindi ko alam. nn gamariin-.arSiuTasaniy., oaS.lianK-gaisnliaan,pgaa.t Pkaoalipkaeanlbegosk.kaLnhaaopyiisnn.ipLaoaahnpaantr.aaBmdaoiknr.anDniiationnadkyia.tsoi annagmhiningathinanataapgokola. hNaatrnitgoglaamhaitt scorch

161 SELF - 01 kn b‘tsyiuouinultnhaanaggattgdoaahylkuni.‘ynobBaunBdiabdngiakagknnabiatainahinlmeaigonnanulaggaodmyoh.iitpaBaaoplnigaana‘aakayrapnalaugaanknks.ngaaaoBaknngkaaadugikiknintatopaotsniibannr‘gkuyaagiknsunnkoadnaosnikgnatniaongggnlui‘amgkpylntoouaaaapnknpayeggnunld.risdkaoaBkuitrltiu.atio.slBykB,iiaaal‘anyy.kkounaaanahknnnoyiadnaannnidttgdadoiikitakto‘niooyn‘guy‘anynuhkaugniannmlgpagawbihagraaaaaallnnsmaaoaglnaop.gn.tBkBgtnoaaaakk.gkBkaaaapnaaniaddklagaiaintltnoamadgginkaatpnoogyi nakalimu““tAHanninankda,i anknaoomdnainann‘yaaalmatmaaan,kgmoh,aim.nHaah.”inandaipakmoom?”apakali. Hindi ko alam kung bakit. May “Anong nakalimutan mo anak?” nandito s“aHbianhdaiyknoamalianm?, ma. May hinahanap akong pap—Putangina sino ka? Bakit ka pdsbaiaanhhdiiihadlyittniunaghunKadpgnuian.kgdaIaonpkl,aoiaablitaikgtntpo.ugiHmtapinkaningokdabiaakoknkaioghbnaignkbnaaibgltisguaniwalyssnaaaagnhaahiktnniinghnadyiknnairuianiingmanogakitnyua,aaymanlangismpgaaaiiklpnkiikag.ngoAmgtdalaabnnmgagglrgaikoklb.olaaWnadhng.aagyml.aanPamgginianauliglnnintagalsahaanakngnoalanannghamkatonunnalkgga nlaahadtanyughbGaanah,widaitnnakgloadmduagwnoi,yitaaotnptguamrdaaasrkaabtkionanghiaiyynaog,nagta, knilagipghpaigintddkuiomndaaatkwinaygaagraanwdg aapnnagganskagantmdawaalgailnnag.kPmadua.nyapsaapnaasnokg MnilaatlualminpaaKnsaagynaagktkiunamngtatoka,bkhboaona.gkWgoa,anklaganrngipapraasat.ginLsagaahklaaotnagnn-gaglhabanakgsbksaeantbgmoplgaaanps.aalsaaykoyaany,mwaahlaanbga pataksiigaluarmadsoa. Tumakbo ako, karipas. i pNnaatlekignaiskdya.oaMnlMWBi.waaaa.kldliHiawtiliaaainmnkkdaoo,ignnnnggraiyiunmnandaaiiattaknolsoag?alpiaana,kitniiwnliaganwngaa.nlaAainnnlaggom.iklSaakwitonitnuningsgughbninudnawadniabnaaakkkuoaopsnannanggigt-osimiashyaaask.baiytaa,nngkioawnkaoal’nyagnngkaabgualanhltaiidkaanndgg. AUhuw, ailaamko.ko na. Uwi. Uuwi ako? a bbnsibwbakaaaaaaoshknpl.kaoagkanenydadugt.gn,benaKwgproyg,auiolAanwaalnnlanyhtaagw.uun.lKyraangkUaa,nai—,ttnmnugeawaanr9aanaakrt1gnalkiga5ahncgoinhlaeg.Aabgn.anShanMkabagartpbiaaokanaunnnybntnngd,aailgaonanagp,hmaagiLtaanw,itupnnniasitnaag,nkaurlanaanaarprmanngnSgangtigpoarlryealaleanayohnelnapaa,taggipi.gwstnlaI.kaanagkgtaAhnaoa,ibyalml-lasataauganwsnaannkglytdag,aoea,mmbCtndkaba.aiaanuosrtrl.egnhlakaIkkgeysnasdieotyn.mmrnkogGaainelapluy.anniatSlnttgataoaatynmbo.u-ti,aMgaanahnmubgaaagtihny,aaypaky.gbpnuAiallndautahniipigkanggsaayansrbna—g,gainghlipsigtsasnneil.nnamkaaSkaaku,iepaswanlnaa.ipwnabmtNalaieaasadbrknnnstooigggael,, scorch

SELF - 01 162 Sunod. Maglakad pauwi. P knnaaiuyimlaaaknayosgao.atkaHnNnsikganioygdmalpiaaaaknnglaaaagdmdak,kaaainokpnoainkwiuanpahnaanigpnnuagtknanakygtyaaannlaisdmkaaionpdlaaaopyrma.nannpHgggapirnmipananaahtggugakbanapnudkakasagaapksnudainkylialgaai.mpInpusiailnnayt.auarIatayando.oannMngaeinydkagyamoabnaamghpaapahyir.niartNaosp.aa,Gkdaaukaushiwtnioil. K adilimaKnimnauplai aknog asunmg aklaunbdoandgosnagakpiinn.tBuainnu. kMsaantakgoumanpgapyinaktoo. sa pagbubukas ng pinto. sH ainndaanlainpg“kMpoaasg.ihMininaaty!o.MHsaain?pdMaigpai?taa! nyNaantkagasubiyawawi auntmapupaougwtaakiw.oa!g”.PKauamlitp-ualnittek.oWngaltainnagtaswumagagsioitnsaay,amkiany. scorch

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SELF - 02 164 scorch Devil in the Mirror One girl, small room, dark night, Frosted window, dripping faucet, dim light, Fists clenched, jaw locked, deep stare, Didn’t speak, didn’t think, didn’t care. Red spots, white sink, shattered mirror, Muffled noise, loud silence, like a thriller, Palms—blood-stained, hands—unsteady, Wasn’t still, wasn’t calm, wasn’t ready. Hair raised, form rigid, bated breath, Prying orbs from behind, feel of death, Many thoughts, fading whispers, filling doubt, “Just give in. Just give up. Just give out.” One step, two steps, then another, ‘Run off, move away!’, won’t bother, Fingertips—on her arms—trailing down, Not a blink, not a move, not a sound. Pursed lips, shaking body, all ensnared— In this quiet monster’s grasp, she was scared. To her ear, its mouth neared, speaking lowly— Ever so gently, ever so lightly, ever so softly. A“nLdooink hatermme…ind”, it was tempting—so compelling, again, she found herself dwelling. Just slightly, oh so slightly, her head lifted; Her lip uncurled, her lashes fluttered, her eyes shifted. And in the cracked glass, she saw evil— ‘That’s not me’ she insisted, ‘t’was the devil.’ And slow, as if mocking, it smiled— It was small. It was faint. It was mild. One girl, small room, quiet night, Frosted window, dripping faucet, fading light, Fists clenched, jaw locked, deep stare at her enemy— Everything she is. Everything she was. Everything she didn’t want to be.

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SELF - 03 166 Mga Hindi ko Masabi Kapatid smlnkpkhiaaanaianorrbgaaaadgasynppAiaohgaamhnansttikyddaggon.araandiKaikppyliakiauaaokonrmttnnaiaskkggnmoaiilahlptapkaaumiamlluonlwagotnadkaaganngigatngsamisbiganinmeagogiposkyupaasnioprtrmeaoanaunsa’mngayyrntmgeuoaeigasmsnaasinttynaahrinanaaonaypankgnyaiartgniggndasihgpttgpakueauimasorinlnyyolonoaiioogttglgnn.aaiagipmgnnpyragigpaonnyanwtaaaemhgkprakuaiaalitnarmlankyaghopgapiahab.asankNiiatrtn,obiilagnnyaiiiktmoigs.aaonuinMakpngnngogikapgtmgnoasassgnaakmauiyotsnsiiauyunpgawomsysiiunnaadmidnnakna.koaakahBadpluimamalnyakkkiaogkonaol.oanis.aAtnkagHiknngilaanipalsnmmgataadaigkaninki-sgaoouaamimnnnnkwooggggai Ama aObknsb atiaaillnnsaiamyingagkokgaulanorariiagskloyamao’oanAyshnnialngmilgaanuugkmamasa.antnnSolkuaakgiohggkmaniaau.yygo.nraPoognanan’nygkghggayapsmiyaaianyokrkaioipanailnrpia.samgilaPmnapgao.bdtaaHaamagakwimnknuaaidrnpldmoaiansndsro?iaatanlunahAmgwgitllahaainmnopminag,aup‘dgtknlaaaitoaoykaks.aanlaaparnaaamangmntkaaaggigwinnuitnggasaitnndgbnoggakggminuaniayntnonooma.gadnpGkodganuamsymhsaatoaiogmilyyaasomoananagngoalugsaknialygiasgonapanynragaaiagnyylksigk.anahuaKpakinwnpiaangyaidnlunaiikitlygiaikktlainaaaas. Halaamyaakno mnaomaat ssumsaurpaomrtiashilaanngkimtaaisbaibiyigoanygnhaapyaugpmana.mHaihnadlisadaiyhoil. sa gusto ko kundi dahil Ina nttuuglluaaddnIkintnagwgbamMakygiataicspubaanlukogwitralatunumgwnadirgannmHgaumknpoaai’tihyseariklnsonaanaakgbaaomrbtaiamlwar.anotIgikrnkiagnawlnaaagkwyuoan?iksiIataknnwagwpalabaa.uyswaiasmannangpgab.upMnladanhoekitraannpagamhbiuanptdianin.kuiblaolka,, n a ang naHkianradaink.ita kilala ngunit pakiramdam ko’y nakasalamuha na kita, ilang pagmano pparaparpaaipksraaakaarrnanaaknggkakgnappanygaantgaggsaktakyapalanipnatpggaanei-nsnlaigeygnnwaiansgkaigawlnsaunaianlwllaauganamlnhahggniieggslapuihta Hindi kita kilala at hindi kita maintindihan ngunit salamat sa iyong presensya. NRaamritdoanmakpooaankgo.uhaw ng iyong tenga sa aking pagbati tuwing ako ay uuwi. Handang makipaglaro ng tagu-taguan. scorch

167 SELF - 04 Unperturbed Frame Replacement - To take the place of especially as a substitute or successor. I leer at it once, twice, and finally, thrice; nothing enticing comes into mind. Solace, on the other hand? Comfort or consolation in a time of distress or sadness. Such relief to find, in the presence of six letters. At the passing of each hour, I am conscious of the departing of different souls. Allusively, eons away, an infant is wailing, oblivious to the capacities he has just been bestowed with - God knows he is the least bit aware of his functional frame. But as the stork offers a future in the form of an animate being, the reaper knocks on the door of another. Ah, how simple this is, to be put into an internal slumber. Facile, but what anchors us to our place? Is it the concept of a sort of rebirth, of a brighter tomorrow? Surely, not everyday will be as such. Do you now see? We were all conceived, made to replace, and to allow others to do the same - this is the way of the world. This consolation follows how the planet has come to be gridlocked to a number of inhabitants consisting of more than ten digits - to know you have once been born into the world to restore the place of another provides one with a stance, a stand which can be given once only. As easily as this can be given, though, similarly, this can be snatched in an instant, but all for a motive which life has framed for humans. We live in the shadow of another, but so do others - it’s the comfort we find in the scheme of things. Living to follow another, and dwindling in order to enable others to experience - what more can there be? scorch

SELF - 05 168 Little luBw fwhfioetniroeerstibrllugefeBrnihl.erdrottsaih,rtgaktimhlsnhawiItbekapt.alliwie.ynAon.TsafgvfBostcnieoustoeorifhtfbatfetteicleoocevhueede.bts.tarhuTohByyeahyermlw,iefo,rilBraosotosewsvrktwlieovogusdnedhinwsp,dct,dB,oo,aaeraufBnsfrisledrgsdtiBethhgBa,srtehnarhiyhgtondaahodcsrwstekotoBadnhawulrivawodlleetdaaorrnuBeysksogesrb,uhtidtbrgbhfeehaetowelefetvytnluieeantmrnrlihgwnbacaovaranotanieyfdshnafosieekbwteuuhalw.eonnbeOuacarldesolnfsedtingedrenritsnrvBhhvcl,iiii,ersnosbonliougboobvusltkorelehneyf.dharIcodatanomfhsvosf,teftaaeheelklsaewaewnitdmntahdho,gyaaghswBtcteeboroattohfheffueftoeeeeellntrdkyer,. i mt uupst, nBorotBolirkei.gcHhotuewlidsauaslncwlaiabnylgseintteogl,loninfosttoowmthheeetnhthiintogcuowgmhatessowftorfoeBenlrgion.ogHkte.omo luitsttlea.lwHaeyksnsepweahkethheadtrtuothbr. iHnge ““HYeeayh, ?BGroooko.nI.”leBarronoekdrseopmlieedth, sinipgptiondgafyr.”omBrihgehrtcsutaprotefdc.offee afterwards. wtd hraeovnpep—deedlliiv“tgheIhretns.doiLniwaifgloohkrgntmuoheawittwsiowitnthhhefyorsuoIumt’mrafathhicnieenvootisfboiabjfenlecemt.otbTohjoteaioctstnyeaoe. nusdrobmrerefaltienhcitunssgfe,rsowtmoe cintoeinenjdtuoraetnhaeneleeiymcetarso.gTme.h”aeBgwnriegatvhicet B right co“nMtinatuteedr ,bheicdoimngetshienvsaisdibnleesswfhroenmtlheeayrnairnegtothoelittwtliestfowritvhistihbelefaliçgahdtetooftoseurcihoutshneemss.”. Bh heeuttarltiwheedaystsioBlderbnoorcoeeesak.kbrotehmtheaeiicrneeedbdyBsariilsgeknhintt.,gThaoenkBonrthiegewhrtth’shacaloft-msmhfeeoarwnt,attsrhhtihestewolraoisucahdloeqswut ewhsehtiekonnnosjwhokes’ishnqeguliyise,lltii.sktHeenewnihncaget., c hoemmineagn. t“Dthoe yqouuesetivoenr. fTehelerlietftoler,e Bshroeokkn?”ewSahiderBarnigxhiett.yBwroaoskr’sigfhatc.eShcreufmorpelseadw, swhheakt nweaws B rook rep“lBierdig.ht, isn’t it sad that the only way I get to see things is by reflection of light?” Bi mropooks’ssibh“leeWa.”dhB, ywri?ghYhicothushswhedeouaplrtdeetanern.oAdt ewwdaannteotrttdotorsosepeeleem.t aepapseaIraemd a, nBdrodoiska.pYpoeuarceadnf’to.uLriiknechI essaiadb,oivt’es projection“Tsoofboeufrasiru,bwcoennsecvioerusr.eAallllywterualrye,saereetjhuisntgasmthoentwagaye othf ethyeatrhei.nAgsllwweehsaetee taoresejue-s”t way, you “kYnoouwaIlwdaoy.”sBspriegahkt ocfustehlfe-rlooaftfhbee,fBorreooshk.eIchoautleditsawyhaennoythoeurtwalokradb. out yourself that that the p“aDrtoicnl’etspnreottelnadrgleikeenoyouughdtoond’t,isBturirgbhtth.”eSthraejerecptolireydo. f“lTighhetldawo snooft dtheeseurnveivteorsbeesstea-t.e” scorch

169 SELF - 05 Quoting what Bright always said when asked about his invisibility. swow afohrocuicatlhhdsmeBsrhrwwoaSrhoeaelkeylh.samHiltswoaeedasmdyepostraehelksoseesvnpoehoe,ditotmhutpoenlfeemrdoseeholaressctthtklaowanttvhadessedhtBwhefreeaoceylaolarhaknep’esgsp.ufsroaNaerigcdomeitatfhtoyuefeildnltay.gfofSsyre.aecaArttdc.iloaoBthsnrumeo.tduIhn.wgeBhfaauisssctitltBme,harseihirlgnaleohridnvtteogdoe.olhsaeonnswgonutoBaktrgntieagokhawett ein nvotetenircreaudsp.tthY“eeoTduoqaughbaoaeitvnese,fecitenoonnis,bthieyneosduut.irnSomganyuhgis.instOgqbnuseoloymptetoehBwtehreoisrnotfrgukolhlnoeegvnhecodaaudntgonhemonttjoooscyadkitdi.hsBrbeuuectpfoBot mrrteihgp. ehettticrtaioovnnetl,inrouifgehlditg?sh”pteBatrokiginbhget p omTrpuefneehsarrtecpysfhoeoicesbncrntrteshesecaineaasitnt“ookwsTduaroafshscrcslmeouoyarmusnearaulefnndblaateydhlrlhx.iewet.oawyHawnkeyweaibsssfyeyatirlmiwyaptlhteephteeoreabcormveeuffenienervcdderdeteso.eapinrsWsnosnedtnneaabspomnaeetrdtoartetfeeyhtfrmhtl.er”haaeaweBttsirtnerfturiihdsnigtcihguhsitn,etnomrBahm.udareTroacdshnmihoeteyikadonnj.uovwetOnei,inomtehuthfxisresopanouodetfftwcolefttauonhesbhdrpeetatbwtyhuohoeaensasneytrt,eslehi.basseeTlittmoihhtsolomaeooftgsofoticiyuulsolairrdsnmkstelneeiieellveltvnmehcaetstessss., iWwfanolwhrshmiaagetynnsfs;oifhhanicleedmBaanmnrodeitgseostathsrseetfBesnhhrloetoea.vusoBbegkarerh,lyilwgiwteahoavshtypemosisesapcbttkthaheeoialeditfhefiovttethhen.reesBdloremtsvohmsetooaaotskhltflieketBar’nsstsrttoeoteldhwnofe.ektstAi,oahshmlinomleswatkooallhnsrtteito.hghwiehignslnmyghosBiernrretuhiddgtaeehbtt.tyamHtihlteahtitoneetekmturhs,npeohiiafvretehhmrfeiiszrone,esaasttlnhlwiyndeitftimrohtiucwotanhsattdees. ihgonpoer.eBdr.”o“SoLakiigdhhatBtedrdiogethost.snHeoetisBsvrhioignihceet utdhpiidosnwnoathyt.ecrlaitctkle,,bBurtoBorko. oTkhecoiunlsdigtneilflicthanatt haerewinasvidsiebvloeidanodf mfIflremoaemtateiyrntinhgaeolmtt“flhBoseaemuetettiewynnBoegtrushmi,gtibohgouhtmt,thlyeIwennshctpohsaettrtiaoockinesthoiwceef,shmcslehoeonnvrmoetyin,oeahinulco’trwmupemieolt,lhmshe.raereIepnma,ptlBuawinimrnaieygssshi,sna,tnv,rfoaraistainitincbhdegl,ey.e”sodatudoinnhtetahhsvesee, oebdryeedeepe.nrreTtoshhsfeieporrenion,fltraoaonnnmxggiiietnbhtglyee., fsfmhoaeelraerltlmastloinrkecib?eghrThoeh“thalDoybatwhtoeoentvyh.teehoeareutlcohltroahamduiinnsdydkshrraaeIoinr’mnpdcschstldehtouseuutpsn.dciHdd?eenDeerdrnod?ro”oyiuboeHgcsuhaengtrthoeotivncfborokeiolclIlwieoecdwvacsenrmahntcheeokratasthsrteoaehesuaerntsthcdhreaeoanwwndrayudyimntpysboaoervoueceur,ostamtienotaesdfrswsabdnsarioeyfufamibmtchyeubt.liirttmHesfeloeellarrsf tastes like“Yruoust manadyitnbout rknnsohweriet,.”bBurtooitkrpaionins tosntomhyerphaeraardte. every time you cry, Bright. It invisible.“TBhuetrehioswnoctahninygohueruentdoesreseta.”nBdr,igBhrtouonk?coHnsocwioucaslny ryaoiusesfeheils mvoyicpe,asinh?akIinagm. just “That’s where you’re wrong, Bright. I always notice because I see through you.” Brook looks at Bright. scorch

SELF - 06 170 Biyahe Blues “Para po!” “Para kanino?” Naputol ang pagkakatulala ko noong nadinig ko iyon. nns agiyiaspinapggabniyuNkobonua.pssHiaantagai?ntinPgngiaanrmanakgkgoaainnsmaginadaoylr?aaslHyaabpiloneitrodasbiata’apmktionliananbuanalpsiatankkkgoointisssgaiegpk.aaaHnnniynknaioaaM…nnaagpnsoiknnoagbasinangpiaysgaakngaogttknsuaamskaapartaaawknaaurnnagkakaanok i ndulpsnosauangaiopkadnidbpaliagakinomkinnisropak.min.antoAgSgenaNnsalssiaakangyirknpoaaiuaboia,knaap.atpkniige‘atnnDo.rirn,gaoNairgsminokabsnmamoabaa.nnrgKsnalaggaaananirmnbskgmgiiluauhnaiapgmlanakanuasgayopytak‘i;natyaknooargakgnapwsogukgaekinankrnsoggoiuaagataan,snywmuntyludoangaignala,ieosa.pgnihuDboll.kaoiiarnitHna’tmotayngk,uikayeboapmnoaakeksg,nmaoaroorgaonnbasaskgukpugryuaoaulnanmlitanaamkgnnyggaogigplrnkususumkga,gamtawmapgktki.aiaaanoanlbtpnagktaiuua.bakprnSlikoaauaok’,kttnanoiiolnba,igslgaptaaamna.malngldNra.agausiMatbiananmkbaatgiaiadkaai,;gspiunnntpanganaauinggbbkdaigaouunsahomraaamiannnnsiwo’gggaat akkoo, hnaalnatgaNnwagapluaabbsoaasboanraaaska,oknosa.apjaeteinpgkianhaikt ohisnadbiipnata‘ynoannagnkgabrianbdaearnyaknog. Nnaatsaamtaepmatekaok.oA, nnagpdaugmodi Hindi ito ang para sa’kin. scorch

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174 Sarili

175 SELF - 07 Blank Canvas For our Art Class, our teacher gave us a take-home assignment in which we would be creating an illustration that symbolizes us battling against our greatest fear. The moment she explained our task, the whole class exchanged glances. It was indeed intriguing. To draw our biggest fear means dwelling into the deepest parts of our mind and having the courage to pluck it out and paste it on our canvas. For the remaining ten minutes, she asked us to have a conversation with ourselves so as to have an idea on what to create. Of course, some of my classmates decided to chat with each other and talk about their fears among themselves. In their conversation, I heard words like “clowns”, “anxiety”, “parents”, and “death”. A few of them were very random but then again, the simplest things for us could be the scariest for some. *** I moved all my things to create one big space for me and my canvas. When illustrating, I always make sure that there is an intimate connection between me and the material that I will be drawing on. This creates tension and a way for my emotions to paint themselves on a blank paper. As I stared at the blank canvas in front of me, my hand hovered over the paint brush placed on top of my table. As soon as my fingertips touched the handle, I paused. I still had no idea on what to paint. My shoulders felt like they slumped to the ground when my realization struck me. It has been three days since we were given the assignment. The following day was the deadline. I have approximately only 13 hours left before I submit our task. Calculating the amount of time I have left made my heart pound like I just finished my sixth can of Red Bull. I tried to calm myself down by staring at the painting hanging above my bed. It was just a simple portrait of a wilted sunflower but it has always comforted me during my lowest points. I faced the empty canvas again. Greatest fear. I felt like my mind was running in circles as I recollected the scariest moments I’ve encountered in my life. There was this time where I cried after riding a rollercoaster with my sister. Or that time where I got lost in a mall while my mom was buying ice cream for me. No matter how scared I got during those moments, I thought that they did not hold the deepest fear that troubles me the most. And the fact that I couldn’t pinpoint it frustrated me more. I breathed out the heaviest sigh as I put my paint brush down. The spotless canvas was threatening and intimidating. If it were personified, it would most definitely be my teacher from third grade who had me recite the entire multiplication table in front of the class. That’s how terrifying it is to see zero progress after hours of thinking and thinking. I opened my phone to play my favorite playlist, hoping that the god of music would somehow bestow productivity on my unmoving body. My head nodded to Carly Rae scorch

SELF - 07 176 Jepsen’s entire discography but my hands were completely unbothered. “This won’t work,” I thought. The blank canvas was staring back at me, as if it was mocking my unmotivated spirit. It was probably cursing and laughing at me for not moving an inch. Truthfully, at that moment, I had to fight the urge to splash a pint on it so that I would feel less pathetic. That was when things clicked in. The canvas being empty was the one haunting me. The fact that I let unproductivity take over my whole was the one supplying uncertainty within me. It was my biggest hatred… and my biggest fear. I stepped back to have a full view on the blank canvas. It was silent yet deadly. It was harmless yet threatening. That moment, I realized that overcoming one’s fear could require much strength than one could ever imagine; but, I had to do it. I grabbed my paint brush and, like a swordsman fighting for his life, battled against my greatest fear. scorch

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SELF - 08 178 Questions Who am I? When the morning sun shines And the light reaches a soul benign Who am I? When the day becomes gloomy And my mind turns murky Who am I? When the thunder roars and the lighting strikes and the rage in my heart flickers starting a fire ghostlike Who am I? When the rain starts to fall And instinctive eyes cries in thrall Who am I? When the rainbow appears and I become too naively sincere Who am I? When the dark devours the light of the day and fear consumes my sanity away Who am I? As I often ask Finally answers bask Now it’s your turn Who are you? Questions stands in queue scorch

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SELF - 09 180 Karagatan Sa kadiliman ng pagdududa at mararahas na alon ng katanungan Natagpuan kita na nagpapaanod sa magulong kapalaran Nang marating ang pampang, tila parehas nawindang Hindi inaasahang pagtatagpuin ating daanan Sa dalampasigan ng ating pag-iibigan Paulit-ulit hinampas ng katotohanan Mga along nagpupumilit ipaalalang panahon natin ay hiram lamang Ngunit mga puso nati’y nagpumilit - nagtapang-tapangan Inilaban ang tinatanging pagsisintahan Sa ilan pang pagsikat at paglubog ng araw na magkasamang nasaksihan Akin palang mga paa’y lumulubog na sa iyong mga buhangin Pira-piraso mo’y paunti-unting naging parte ng sa akin Impluwensiya mo sa buhay ko’y hindi man lang napansin Sa pagbagyo ng walang katapusang kalungkutan sa ating samahan Kinailangan mong lumisan para hanapin ang kabihasnan Kasabay ng pagpapaalam ay ang pangako ng pagbalik Upang sabay nating lalandasin Sa paglaot sakay sa bangka ng kapalaran, buhat mo ang aking panalangin Sa ilang pagsikat at paglubog ng araw na mag-isang nasaksihan Walang ibang pinagmasdan kundi ang hangganang abot ng tingin Kasabay ng walang sawang pagsikat ng araw ay ang pag-asa ng iyong pagdating Patuloy na nananalig sa matatamis na sumpaang ating binitawan Sa muling pagdilim ng langit sa pagkakataong ‘di na mabilang-bilang Muling nagtagpuan ang sariling nawawasak sa alaala ng nakaraan Sa pagkakataong ito, hinugot ang lakas ng loob upang umalis sa buhanging kinalubugan Umaamin sa sariling sa aking paglisan malaki ang naging kabawasan Sa kadiliman ng pagdududa at mararahas na alon ng katanungan Nanalamin sa tubig upang makita ang babaeng nasasaktan Nagpadala lamang muna sa agos at lumipas ang panahon Natagpuan na ngayon ang nararapat na kasagutan magamula pa noon Sa mga taong makadadaupang-palad ko saan man makarating Ngayon alam ko na, iisa aking pagkakakilanlan, ‘king pagkatao Walang iba kundi ang sarili ang makakabuo Magmula ngayon aking alalahaning ako ay ako - natatangi scorch

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SELF - 10 182 The Life You Want itA’svcooimd,foarvtoaibdl,e,aevaosiider dthisatnrafactc,indgisatrllatchte, dreisatsroancst benhoinnodntohneopnaoin. escape, run, hide hide away until you die till you rot in stagnance without making a difference without what you really wanted because you were too scared to go and try ThatC’soywoua,rdis.n’t it that’s you cowering failing that’s you unless you refuse unless you choose to live doing what scares you if you change and grow endure and pursue then just maybe the life you want will be true. scorch

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EPILOGUE 118844 EPILOGUE The survivors are the unfortunate as they are left to be played by Adam—the shapeshifter, omniscient and omnipotent, revising his form according to what is required. It is he who controls the way history is paved. It is he who dictates in whose name wars are waged, it is he who we believe on. He is the perspective at which we see things, the lie, the façade, the double-speak. Those who live with him are trapped in an endless puzzle of bewilderment and fear. Adam has indoctrinated all books, and has exploited the human nature of purpose seeking, and so humans until this day are afraid from the rupture that will not occur in their lifetime. Such that humans, until this day drown in bloodbaths declared under the names that he wishes to be worshipped. He is unquantifiable. He is known yet unknown, and humans will never know who he is, as he too has forgotten who he has always been. His ideals, lost in limbo. His identity, fragmented, torn, and montaged by the beings he chose to be, by the purpose he has forged. The survivors are cursed to find meaning amidst the lies, to search for clairvoyance in the chaos. But what else can we do but guess? And for those scorched by Adam’s flames, you can never truly know him, the way you can never really know the truth. Adam is the truth, the way, and the lie. scorch

185 I N D E X LITERARY PAGE TITLE AUTHOR i About the Cover JCCM 1 PROLOGUE ABD 50 A Lucid Dream FVBD 78 Achilles’ Heel TUM 100 Act. 1 Encore CKDL 46 Adobo JCCM 114 Again TUM 124 An Epithet for Genius DJSC 136 Ang Mundo sa Perspektibo ng Isang Bulag 141 Ang Paborito kong Damit KIMCD 60 Ang Pasikot-Sikot at Madugong Proseso ng Pagdaloy ng Dugo ABD 43 Ang Tatlong Beses na ang Babae’y Magdurugo ABD 137 Asin ABD 88 Ayos Lang 158 Baka Pinag-isipan KAOAM 48 Bawal Umutang, Sa Susunod na Lang ABD 175 Blank Canvas 18 Bulong JCCM 170 Biyahe Blues MABP 14 Calangitan 140 Consequence KLB 164 Devil in the Mirror CVG 42 Dugo MSAER 183 Epilogue ABD 110 Gambit TUM 128 Good Grief JKJI 72 He Told Me that this was Love ABD 79 Heaven on Earth Hurts Like Hell JCCM 32 Hulagpos JMGS 16 Jamais Vu CKDL 92 Kapag Umuulan ABD 30 Kapos TUM 180 Karagatan MSAER 68 Katuwiran DJSC ABD MSAER IGMD JCCM

PAGE TITLE 186 59 152 AUTHOR 63 85 Kunduktor ABD 107 Langit, Tubig, Impyerno KAOAM 133 Letter from Judas JCCM 155 Letter from The Company ABD 39 Letter from Eve ABD 11 Letter from Kian Delos Santos ABD 126 Letter from Rodrigo ABD 168 Letter from Edith Crown JJCM 66 Letter from Adam. You. Us. ABD 81 Lied on Bed KIMCD 122 Little JCCM 166 Mahal kong Diosdado JCCM 150 Mahal kong Estella JCCM 116 Mahal Kong Taripa ABD 99 Mga Hindi ko Masabi ABD 58 Mrs. Potato Head FVBD 135 Nang Malunod ang Isda ABD 130 Of All MABP 31 Paano ba Gumagana ang Puso? ABD 178 Paano ka ______ (Mabubuhay, Mamamatay)? ABD 90 Papadala CCE 77 Pangungumpisal kay Padre Damaso MSAER 34 Questions IGMD 80 Red Lines and Flat Lines JKJI 102 Rosas KIMCD 148 Salamat ABD Salamat, Paalam ABD 20 Shatter IGMD 182 Subukan Mong Buhatin ang ABD 167 Bato sa Iyong Rosaryo 36 The Beginning FVBD 22 The Life You Want ECK 104 The Unperturbed Frame GAAC 184 Tindahan ni Papa God KIMCD Uling sa Mukha KAOAM You FVBD Epilogue JCCM

187 ARTIST BAA GRAPHICS MNBCM PAGE TITLE DNNMG 49 A Lucid Dream ECK 3 Adam ABD 45 Adobo ABD 113 Again ABD, GRM 123 An Epithet for Genius ABD, GRM 87 Ayos Lang ABD 55 Baguhin I GRM 56 Baguhin II ABD 29 Bahay ABD 157 Baka Pinag-isipan ABD 94 Bakas I QBAD 95 Bakas II ABD 96 Bakas III ABD 97 Bakas IV ABD 98 Bakas V DNNMG 40 Bill ABD 17 Bulong ABD 109 Chaka ABD 139 Consequence ABD ii Daluyong ABD 131 Daluyong II ABD 142 Daluyong III ABD 143 Daluyong IV ABD 144 Daluyong V BAA 145 Daluyong VI ABD 146 Daluyong VII ABD 163 Devil in the Mirror ABD 41 Dugo ABD 9 Hanggang Saan I ABD 23 Hanggang Saan II ABD 24 Hanggang Saan III ABD 25 Hanggang Saan IV ABD 26 Hanggang Saan V 27 Hanggang Saan VI 28 Hanggang Saan VI

PAGE TITLE 188 52 Hantungan 54 Hindi Lahat ARTIST 31 Hulagpos ABD 127 Isang Libo ABD 15 Jamais Vu 13 Kalangitan JCCM 91 Kapag Umuulan QBAD 179 Karagatan 61 Kulay I ABD 73 Kulay II ABD 74 Kulay III ABD 75 Kulay IV ABD 151 Langit, Tubig, Impyerno ABD 35 Left Alone ABD 65 Mahal kong Diosdado ABD 81 Mahal kong Estella ABD 121 Mahal Kong Taripa ABD 165 Mga Hindi ko Masabi MAV 103 Mother ABD 149 Mrs. Potato Head ABD 115 Nang Malunod ang Isda ABD 57 Paano Gumagana ang Puso ABD 153 Pahinga I MAV 170 Pahinga II BAA 173 Pahinga III ECK 174 Pahinga IV DCMC 101 Palad ABD 89 Parasite ABD 177 Questions ABD, MAV 147 Rosaryo ABD, MAV 21 Sanctuary QBAD 83 Scars DNNMG 105 Secret KCDH 53 Sinag KCDH 117 Sinungaling I ABD ABD ABD ABD ABD

189 ARTIST ABD PAGE TITLE ABD 118 Sinungaling II ABD 119 Sinungaling III ABD 120 Sinungaling IV 37 Systems KCDH 19 The Beginning GRM iv The Three Persona EROC 67 Tinapay ng Buhay 171 Warm I ABD, MAV 172 Warm II ABD, MAV 181 What Happy Looks Like ABD

EDITORIAL BOARD Charmaine C. Estabas John Clarenze C. Macalintal Audrey B. Diaz Editor-in-Chief Associate Editor Managing Editor Head Photographer Gianello R. Montenegro Maria Sophia Andrea E. Rosello Head Layout Artist Literary Editor Marco Alejandro Villapando Head Illustrator Associate Literary Editors Associate Illustrator Christine Kaye D. Librada Dhale Clifford M. Campos Lance Carlo J. Mendoza Writers Corinne V. Gonzales | Daniel Joash S. Cerrado | Elizabeth C. Kho | Francesca Victoria B. De Chavez | Ghia Alessan- dra A. Coronel | Ica Geiel M. De Chavez | Jerica Kyle J. Inandan | Jose Maria G. Samaniego | Kristine B. Bandelaria | Kristin Ann Olive A. Merin | Kristel Izza May C. Datinguinoo | Max Alessandra B. Perez | Tiaura U. Macabagdal Illustrators Bernadette A. Awatin | Eseankier Ritcher O. Cuevas | Daryelle Naomi Nastassja M. Guerrero | Kirsten Chloe D. Hernandez | Elizabeth C. Kho Maria Nerissa Bernadeth C. Makalintal Photographers Quincee Beatrice A. Dalangin | Joshua L. Dela Rueda Advisers Ms. Angie Samonte | Ms. Gennelyn Fortus

191 Tas mhuischboaoskyroeuardesaydoiut.