About Last Night

only a drop

2010-05-17T01:40:00.003+08:00

if not for one little problem, this beach would be perfect.

when the tide comes we all have to run towards the fort and climb as high as we can and pray the waves don't take us.

a big wave came for me once. i ran to the palace of many windows. a felt a drop of water. only a drop.

when we were children

2010-04-25T09:54:00.004+08:00

my cousin asks me if i still play the violin. we used to play music together. now he's a musician, a professional and i am just a girl who stopped. i shake my head. "not anymore," i say but i say it without shame or guilt because he's smiling at me with fondness. he believes in me. he will teach me what he knows and together we will play again like we did when we were children.

always

2010-04-08T00:06:00.004+08:00

the new rooms are better than what i am used to

large with windows that overlook

black wires that cut a sad steady sky

these inherited uninhabited interchangeable rooms

i choose one and lose it so that i am always lost

everything shifts and i can see only up to a foot ahead of me

this labyrinth is in my mind

to foster this fear that is in me like my prayed-for child

even as i try i must find a room

any room that is familiar or one that feels safe

so i can sleep

not lost

2010-03-23T09:51:00.003+08:00

i'm made to find my own room in the new house. i trail my hands along the banister as i ascend. my eyes scan rooms i know are not mine. at each landing i call out to mama to make sure i haven't gone too far, too make sure i'm not lost.

release

2010-03-21T01:36:00.002+08:00

the nightmare is not that he is making love to another man. that is what fascinates me. the unknown room, flooded in light, white, shifting and nebulous, only sharpens their man-boy limbs. their lovemaking is adamantine. their rhythm, intent.

this other man, the one beside me, pulls me to him, wants to make love. he is a disturbance. i push him away, i hold him off, if only until the other couple finish and i see their faces twist in exquisite release.

not mine

2010-02-25T10:52:00.003+08:00

i am told it is mine. the unknown room, the weird shifty walls, the unmade bed.

visitors come looking for me. i confront the empty kitchen, i look for food. i look for a place to seat them because --

i cannot admit that i do not know them. that all this is not mine.

the footprints that scar the polished floor are not mine and neither are these shoes i am putting on.

and when i laugh to mask my fear the laughter isn't mine.

plastic bunny ears

2010-02-14T09:45:00.003+08:00

the big fat bully who read my diary where i called her fat will have her revenge by having me run with plastic bunny ears while she chases me, catches me, beats me up.

i try them on but i feel the first twinge of clarity, of not belonging.

my friends arrive. like me, they are in st scho uniform.

"where were you?" i ask. i show them the ears.

"we came from UP," they say.

"that's where i'm from now," i say. i mull over my own words. i'm having trouble understanding what they mean. now, now, now. the uniforms are a mistake. so is this place, the time, these plastic bunny ears.

she touches my back to appease me.

tethered

2009-12-15T21:41:00.001+08:00

it doesn't cross my mind to doubt that i when i take this step i will leave the ground. and few more steps i will fly. over the city, the houses i have lived in and loved. i feel light and not at all cold like i thought i would be. there is nothing below to hold me.

and above --

and above --

i will myself to keep going. i will not be grounded. i will ascend. i climb the air.

my hair is undone. my dress, my ribbons, my hair -- i am lifted. i am tethered to the sky.

2009-11-25T09:21:00.001+08:00

a lone gardener watches as i walk naked in a garden of thistles.

miserable but

2009-11-20T23:19:00.002+08:00

i shake with rage. i stand in place shouting words my tongue trips over. feeling left behind, feeling betrayed and shamed, i sling accusations at everyone, hoping some will come true henceforth i will be miserable but correct.

it's a relief

2009-11-10T22:22:00.006+08:00

to be home. to find that nothing has changed. the silence. the smell of fallen fruit. the softness of the ground recently watered. every time i come home, i come home to this house. i am still surprised to find that my room is still mine. the house is always empty, always dark. it has remained untroubled, untouched. the flowers still bloom, still give off that smell of satisfied languor. and at night the dogs still howl at the spirits of dead relatives that come home to sleep.

night

2009-11-04T09:38:00.003+08:00

in the field. i count the stars. i walk slow.

The Four Generals

2009-11-01T15:23:00.003+08:00

Stripped down to their underwear, long and lean, smelling like men, the four generals come into my room to surrender. Immediately I fall in love with one -- the one who looks at me in the eye, the one who understands that later, yes, I will make up excuses to visit him where he is kept prison. I am already rethinking my life all because I want him to take me like a man should. Forceful and fast. Without hesitation. Almost selfishly. I see it happening. I will run down the stairs, go past the garden, behind the chicken shed where the prison is. Maybe I will even learn his name.

air

2009-10-19T10:41:00.002+08:00

it feels natural to fly, to soar, to be lifted by will. that they might see panties is a fleeting concern. to keep going until below is nothing but ocean, to see blue above and below, to fall back into air --

i am given red

2009-10-07T09:25:00.002+08:00

i am given red. ribbons that are red. the room is full. it is gym. it is church. i don't have time. cut ribbons and give each one a piece of red. i see who they are. it is school. but i am not student. just me, just old, just someone with ribbons that are red. i am patient this time. i know i have left, can leave again. i know i can --

gunfire

2009-09-03T08:55:00.003+08:00

i am lost in this shopping center that is about to close. gunfire. i am given a gun. i hide in a room full of crates. i have the sense to back up on the wall but i am shaking. they come closer. i see nothing so i train my ears to listen as i aim.

underwater air

2009-08-26T08:08:00.004+08:00

the windows have to be complicated. sometimes you want to let the sun in but not the dust. sometimes you want the air but not the rain. i try each window and in the middle of doing this i see the pool. in the middle of the yard is the pool. the only source of light is this pool. i fall into it. i remember i can swim. i kick to float up. i can't breathe. it seems i will never reach the surface. i am forever kicking upwards wanting to breathe and just as i think of air i start to breathe. still underwater i am breathing, kicking, seeing the surface but never surfacing, hearing muted sounds, filling my lungs with this miraculous, acqueous, underwater air.

chasm

2009-08-24T09:00:00.004+08:00

i don't know what to call it except "chasm." it goes deep. it gushes water. i step closer and closer to it. i am filled with awe.

And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
- Coleridge, "Kubla Khan"

just for me

2009-08-17T08:02:00.002+08:00

i am getting married in the cathedral that was built just for me.

nothing is no longer in place

2009-08-13T09:05:00.002+08:00

at my old school.

been sleeping

2009-08-11T07:49:00.002+08:00

i step out of the room that is not mine. measured steps. wooden floor. light. i have been sleeping. my pajamas are white. i am fine, i am fine. i look around the house. i feel i might go unsteady. i keep walking to the door, towards the warmth. i reach out to a hand that is light but sure. outside is sun, air, shore. she pulls up a chair so i can stay and watch the surf, the sky, the light.

River

2009-07-27T09:07:00.003+08:00

Curiosity makes me abandon the main road and slip into the dirt roads where the houses get smaller and smaller and farther and farther apart.

I reach the river. The landscape changes and I find that everywhere I look is the river. I float, I row, I navigate around it. It starts to get dark.

I reach a house on stilts. It starts to rain. I pull the shades down but it's still so cold, so wet. Around me the storm, the river, the unknowable land.

Moving In

2009-07-16T20:11:00.002+08:00

One

I find myself in a corn field. I can see the house I have to get to. I try to walk towards it but the wind keeps wanting to carry me off.

Two

The indoor pools are empty. They fill up, the people explain, when the tide comes. I step into one and wait.

Three

It will take me a while to get used to my new house. The indoor balcony looks down into the bathroom. It shames me to have people walk by and watch me stand in one of the indoor pools. The ones that fill up when the tide rises.

Four

The room is mine but the clothes are not. I try them on.

Sea Bed

2009-07-13T20:36:00.002+08:00

The barge we are on takes us to an underground city. The water is so clear. I can see the words etched on the sea bed.

my legs

2009-07-03T07:32:00.001+08:00

refuse to move. i am engulfed by my panic, and by the flames.

Sexy

2009-07-02T14:09:00.002+08:00

I walk into class late. As I pass him he tells me he's never seen me so pretty. I don't bother to hide my kilig. I find a seat in front -- seats away from him. But when I look back, he's still looking at me and he's still mesmerized. I take out my notebook and twirl my pen in a way I know he will find sexy.

Even Steps

2009-07-01T07:14:00.003+08:00

Paolo, Forest and I love the house at first but we get nervous when we notice the first signs that it is haunted.

A woman calls me on my cell phone telling me that she can see me, that we have to get out. This angers me and I listen to her rantings carefully and see if I can recognize the voice. Meanwhile, to save my family from panic, I slowly make a move to leave. I pick up Forest's leash and he comes running to me. I motion to Paolo to pack our things. With even steps, I walk to the car.

Very Cold

2009-06-29T07:10:00.003+08:00

He sees me too late and by the time he waves back I am tossed about in the crowd. I am pushed forward. I travel without having to take a step. It feels like many unfinished hugs. I am laughing out loud. I can see him follow me and it's become like a game.

This continues until someone pushes me too hard and I fly up into the air where it is very, very cold.

Beds

2009-06-10T11:30:00.001+08:00

I throw out all my furniture to make space for 100 new beds.

Pink

2009-06-07T13:03:00.002+08:00

All around the room are knives. I reach for the nearest knife and cut open the skin of my left pointer. I am surprised at how pink my flesh is. I doesn't hurt at all.

Home

2009-06-01T17:47:00.002+08:00

I call her to tell her I am home and if she could come over. Then before I forget I tell her, "It's a different address." I give her my old house's address.

Happy to be home, I don't mind cleaning up. I fix the broken shelves. I sweep the floor. I clear the cobwebs.

Dusk falls. I look for the light switches and wait for her to arrive.

she counts

2009-05-16T21:37:00.000+08:00

the dead bodies outside her hotel room.

Her Killer

2009-05-14T16:55:00.002+08:00

She watches her father beat up her mother. She feels guilt, relief, sorrow, delight. She turns to her brother who comes to stop the fight, to rescue their mother.

The emotion that wins is relief. That she is not the only witness and that she was true to herself in that she wanted to see their mother dead but at the same time but didn't have to do her daughterly duty of saving her mother from the hands of her killer.

The Beach

2009-05-12T08:58:00.003+08:00

I am happy to be home. They show me a new room. It's made of glass and faces the beach. During high tide, when the big waves come, the water eats up the shore near the room. The tide slaps against the glass walls. It's so beautiful. My eyes trace the shore line and see people on the beach. A lot of them are surfing.

I bolt from the room and look for a bathing suit to change into.

"Where are you going? We're going to have dinner!"

I ignore them, find a bathing suit, and run to the beach.

2009-05-11T10:28:00.003+08:00

I get pushed into a seat that flies away.

empty

2009-05-06T11:50:00.002+08:00

i am holding the movie tickets in my hand. i try to get to the theater but all the stairs leading to that floor disconnect as soon as i set foot on them.

i keep climbing and the stairs keep disintegrating and the mall keeps getting bigger.

disoriented, frustrated, i make it to the theater. it's empty.

Bar of Soap

2009-05-02T10:25:00.002+08:00

There's a roadblock on the way to the mall. I sneak pass it. Beyond the roadblock, beyond the mall, is a place I need to get to.

Inside the mall, no one will help me. I try to ask for directions but people push me aside. I fall. I lose my bags.

One girl says she'll help me. She will write down how to get to this place I need to get to. I have no paper. I reach for a big bar of soap.

"Write it here," I say.

She reaches for a knife and uses its point to engrave her first word.

the tower

2009-04-24T13:11:00.002+08:00

we hide the body bag (the dead body is inside it) at the nook at the bottom of the tower. he assures me that this is the way it is done. a sacrifice the island needs.

the island is vast. there's so much green. cliffs. trees. the ocean all around us makes a scary, slapping sound. it is deep. i will not come near it so ---

i climb the tower. the stairwell is narrow and at a point it becomes a ladder. i keep climbing. i've never felt so motivated. it is as if i am being called.

i reach a room. it has a bed, books, a window, a desk, a tape recorder. i listen to the instructions that have been left for me. i use the desk to step up, push open a door in the ceiling. i ease myself up to the tower's highest point.

i will look down and survey the island. this vast, tough, indomitable island.

Flag Ceremony

2009-04-20T22:23:00.002+08:00

We come in sipping our Starbucks. We're in uniform. They confiscate our coffee and remind us that our cellphones are forbidden. I look to Jill for comfort but she is slipping into high school faster than I can help her. I feel so lost. My cellphone is deep in my skirt's pocket. It makes me nervous. I am committing a high school offense.

I join the flag ceremony. Miserable.

Hose

2009-04-13T12:12:00.004+08:00

I step up with the hose to water a hanging plant. The water doesn't stop gushing. I let it spill out of the pot, down my arms, my face, my naked body green like the plant. My skin, green and blooming, drinks up the water.

Is Alive

2009-03-25T17:15:00.001+08:00

The murder happens every night with slight variations. What is the same is that the murderer, after stabbing his victim, is somehow overpowered and also dies in a pool of blood. The murderer and the victim, side by side, their blood mixing.

More and more people watch. We've become brave, knowing how we cannot change fate. We will never murder. We will never be murdered. We sit closer and closer to the crime scene.

One night it happens in a theater. We were watching opera. An aria, a death, applause. We are excited to see how they will play out the murder the following night.

A street, a restaurant, a school. The same red pool of blood.

I come closer to the dead bodies. The murderer wakes up, is alive, and grabs my leg.

Syllabus

2009-03-19T11:07:00.002+08:00

We are talking about the syllabus. S is angry. N in between us, quiet. S keeps talking until N laughs and leans over for a kiss. I try to catch S's eye but she doesn't see me. I stare in disbelief, feeling more and more betrayed.

as if we were still children

2009-03-15T21:50:00.002+08:00

he tells me he is afraid and asks me to sleep in his room.

his room: white curtains. sturdy desk. twin beds on opposite ends of the room.

from my room to his room, i go back and forth, carrying some things i need.

my room: blue. sturdy desk. a bed. books. a little dresser. dark.

back and forth. first, a brush. then, a pillow. a book. it seems like my trips will never end. i am angry at myself.

i feel a presence. from the end of the corridor, someone is watching. i hurry back to his room and shut the door.

school project

2009-03-06T11:49:00.001+08:00

we are 15 years old.

they haven't forgiven each other, even though we've traveled back in time.

i feel responsible for this school project and give them assignments.

S says something funny. we all laugh. the air becomes lighter and i feel such relief.

cold and trapped

2009-03-04T22:00:00.004+08:00

i say something that makes him snap. he comes into the bathroom where i am taking a shower. "what did you say? what did you say?" his mouth is foaming from anger. i lean across the wall, cold and trapped. i start to shiver.

he lunges forward and goes for my throat.

this house

2009-02-05T11:05:00.004+08:00

it's changed much, this house.

we're eating lunch, just having a really pleasant time.

ab arrives with ch. ab motions, "you cut your hair."

i flip it, "yes, yes." i am feeling generous, friendly, welcoming.

A and i walk to my room. i'm feeling shy. "this was my room," i say. the house keeps changing but i know my way around it. i talk about the tiles, the ceiling. outside is the garden, sunlight, heat. inside is this ruin that is familiar and safe. it embarrasses me to take her around this neglect but i want to tell her that i love it, that without this i will be lost. these unused rooms, these creaky sounds.

it hurts.

i can't explain anymore. i watch closely to see if she understands. she does.

veil

2009-01-20T10:35:00.005+08:00

i'm already wearing the veil. they can't find the dress. i fish out something red. i tell them it will have to do. they keep looking for the dress.

they find it. they make me wear it.

I say, "i've worn this once before. only once." i point out how delicate the details are.

it's not clear why i have to put it on again.

but i am loving the veil.

i put on the jewelry.

as i walk out i realize i forgot to change my shoes. i walk slow and make sure the hem of my gown covers my sneakers.

you said your vows and you closed the door
on so many men who would've loved you more
- Death Cab for Cutie

2009-01-08T11:48:00.001+08:00

it's raining. i'm carrying so many books. the streets keep changing. i am farther and farther away from my classroom.

j

2008-12-14T17:44:00.003+08:00

j is my student. he's smart and funny. i crush him. he sees me in the hallway. he puts his arms around my waist. he calls me camille. it's so familiar. i panic slightly and look around. no one is looking. i play with his hair. i tilt my head up for a kiss.

nike

2008-11-18T08:00:00.001+08:00

she shows me what she's wearing. she asks, "do you still love me now?"

i giggle. i'm so happy. i will always love this wonderful person.

bridge, house, clothes

2008-11-17T20:42:00.005+08:00

the bridge sways. below me, waters. from above me, rain. i keep my balance and walk on. i am oddly at ease.

i circle the unkempt house looking for a way in. i'm convinced that i'm home.

i wonder how long before they notice i'm not wearing any clothes.

Library

2008-10-15T12:05:00.003+08:00

They've converted the old apartments to a library. A jungle-like garden spills out of the penthouse and through the vines I see chandeliers and lamps. The books hang suspended without the aid of shelves. Even the floors are invisible. Everything is bathed in an amber light. I feel right at home but before I start looking for books, I try to find traces of the old apartment and in my mind I place markers: This is where we played. This is where his room was. This is where a door used to be.

2008-09-22T06:47:00.002+08:00

I am watering the plants naked.

Installation

2008-09-04T09:51:00.002+08:00

Twice I was humiliated.

The first time was when I came up to him and said, "Hey, can I talk to you about something?" and then his friends who were beside him started teasing.

The second time was when I got him alone and realized I forgot what I had to say so I started to make it up but he must've seen right through it and concluded that I was madly in love with him and had gone berserk to be so close to him. He said, "I'm so sorry. We can't be together!" Then he walked away and all his friends started hooting again.

So now I am walking away as fast as I can, trying to forget the swampy feeling in my heart I call shame. I enter and exit buildings, cross streets, cross bridges until I come upon what seems to be another building but what is actually Installation. As in Art.

Taped on the walls are scraps of paper containing lyrics of my favorite songs. Contents of a bag are spilled out on the floor and they contain what my bag contains. A closet filled with my favorite clothes. My favorite shoes on a shoe rack. Pictures of me.

I run around confirming that it is my life elevated to the realm of Art. Tacked on the wall is a little card that says "Title: Love Letter to Camille."

A love letter! I am giddy with excitement and run around not even trying to hide my glee. My earlier humiliation is forgotten.

154

2008-08-19T11:21:00.003+08:00

it's the kind of hotel that will politely be called "quaint" but what it really is is too old and too dark. my key says 154. i walk up and down the hall trying to find it. mark finds his room and so does nicole.

when i do find my room (and it was right there -- how could i miss it?) it says 154 pneumonia patients.

so many of them in a room. all dying. all looking at me with resentment. their breaths raspy and their dull eyes watery.

i turn around and run to the hotel's lobby but slowly the hotel starts to look like a hospital. i see nurses, bed pans, food carts.

still i hurry, clutching my key.

home

2008-08-17T21:29:00.002+08:00

i am still half-asleep. he sits on the bed and leans over to hug me. i am on my right side so i have to look back to see his face, his blue shirt.

"are you home?" i ask.

he doesn't have to answer. deep in my heart is gratitude, happiness, peace.

Longing

2008-07-11T06:59:00.003+08:00

Because the rest of the house is still being remodelled, the four of us sleep in the master's bedroom. I wait for them to fall asleep and sneak out and go to my room to make a phone call. My room, dusty and messy, feels so comforting and I dust a small part of the bed so I can sit down and call you.

"Hey," you say. Your voice. My heart swells with longing.

Mood Swing

2008-07-09T18:17:00.002+08:00

He questioned me, "Can you ride anything?"
Lord do you mean like your mood swings.
- Tori Amos

He doesn't like the food and it ruins it a little for me. These things I eat in silence: roti and curry dip, soup, callos, chili stuffed with cheese.

I order more of my favorite things wondering why I don't feel full.

He makes a face and I feel so much bitterness. I think, just moments ago he was happy. Why does he do this.

The restaurant changes and there are more people and before I can tell him what I really think he's gone.

Secret Cathedral

2008-07-03T11:34:00.003+08:00

It's been so long that we both have long hair again. You're busy and I watch you patiently, thinking of all the things I will tell you. I want to tell you that I've gotten our money changed and that up the hill is a secret cathedral and that you should come with me because I want you to take a picture of me. I want to tell you about your groupies who didn't think I could see them. They followed you around and charted your every move. They giggled to each other and ogled you. I want ask you if you remember this girl who had a crush on you and was hateful towards me. I was always nice to her anyways but this is what I want to tell you: Today I told your groupies off. I told them to get lost because, hay, they were ugly like that hateful girl but I was just too nice to say back then.

Ah, here you come. I want to tell you that I love you and that I'm happy. And that with all this money we will see the secret cathedral and maybe run away.

Gorgeous, Gorgeous

2008-06-26T11:53:00.003+08:00

Files, records, reports. Meetings, pre-meetings, post-mortems. I've never been so harassed in my life. (When was the last time I said that?)

I look at my hand. What is this piece of paper still doing here?

I run to the elevator. "Wait!" I scream and run and my short hair bounces up and down while I run.

Out of the corner of my eye I see him see me. He stands up and follows. He has that look. Oh he's so gorgeous, gorgeous!

I make it to the elevator and just as it is closing he holds his hand up to stop the doors. Something in me fires up. Like dynamite. Like coming to life.

He kisses me and I let the piece of paper fall to the floor. And everyone, I can tell, is jealous.

I dont know how but I suddenly lose control
Theres a fire within my soul
Just one look and I can hear a bell ring
One more look and I forget everything
- Abba, "Mamma Mia"

The Happiest Day of My Life

2008-06-25T20:59:00.000+08:00

Grand pianos crash together when my boy walks down the street.
- Magnetic Fields

It doesn't occur to me what day it is until I am in the cave with Juvenile Selfish Brat. I am wearing my blue Bebe shirt and I can hardly see him in the dark and I am filled with so much resentment.

"Please get out of my life," I say and it comes out easier than I thought. "You're a Juvenile Selfish Brat. I hate you!" And then that's when I remember that it is the day I am supposed to get married. I wish him instant death and run out of the cave.

The car is waiting for me outside. I get in the back door and my groom is already there! And instead of my Bebe shirt and jeans I'm wearing a white little dress! With frills!

I don't know anyone in the car but it feels right. We laugh all the way to the church. He's so cute, my groom. And we talk about all our little interests and hobbies and he holds my hand. It's the happiest day of my life.

As soon as the church is in sight I ask him, "What's your name? I need it for the vows."

Everyone in the car laughs. I am laughing too. I don't know why but this feels right.

Late Girl in a Yellow Dress

2008-04-24T11:44:00.003+08:00

I wore my yellow dress.
I was pretty but I was late.
I secretly liked it.

It was a meeting, no less
But I was dressed for a date:
I wore my yellow dress.

It was improper, I guess.
But improper was my fate
And I secretly liked it.

They told me I was a mess
And must step outside the gate
Because I wore my yellow dress.

I didn't succumb to the stress
Because I knew that I was great
And I secretly liked it.

I scorned them, I must confess.
But I rose above the hate
And wore my yellow dress
Because I secretly liked it.

Dolls

2008-01-29T18:25:00.000+08:00

I can see the city from where I am.

My suitcase makes a dragging sound. I move hesitantly, trying not to look at the view that nauseates me. I enter the room and I see they've placed mannequins of people on chairs, to make the room look full. There are plaster heads, too, on top of tables.

They're just dolls, I say to myself trying not to panic. I sit tight.

Finally, they call my name and I am to board. But when I reach in my pocket, I don't have a ticket. I only have four movie tickets and they're all torn up.

Return Ticket

2008-01-06T09:54:00.000+08:00

"What day is it?"

"Sunday," David says to my panicked face.

"I have work tomorrow," I say and I scuttle about gathering my beach things and I realize I don't have a return ticket.

I think it through. David is no use. "Call the airline," he says and goes out to surf.

I go through my things again. Then I find my class schedule and and form indicating that I have been missing all my classes and that my diploma will be revoked. I don't understand. I go around the room, picking things up, thinking of who to call, feeling shame and guilt at my irresponsibility. I imagine my fastidiousness will make up for my negligence.

A Better View

2007-12-11T15:42:00.000+08:00

We're all trying to make it to the ocean to wash away the sickness that came during the end of the world. Around us, dying animals, felled trees, stench. We run towards the sound we think is water. We run up a hill to get a better view. We don't feel the tiredness in our legs, our scabbed feet, our hunger. We reach the top to see below us the beach. The sun shines.

Carnap

2007-11-05T18:13:00.000+08:00

Ortigas. Overcast. Not a soul in sight. Paolo suddenly points and says, "That man! Si Daddy yun!"

I look at the man and back at Paolo to see if he's joking. The man looks nothing like Paolo's Daddy except for the white tennis outfit that could pass as something Daddy would wear when he could still play.

Paolo is dead serious. "Si Daddy yun, tara."

We follow the man (whom I know is not Daddy) and he leads us to our car (the civic). The man gestures to me, open the door, as if he wants to drive us home. Paolo's so happy.

It is with resignation that I hand the man the car keys.

I know it before it happens: He pulls a gun somewhere from his pristine white outfit and shoots me, and drives away with the car.

Sauna

2007-10-11T19:51:00.000+08:00

Yey, I think, Sauna. I think nothing of taking my clothes off. But when I get in, I get the shock of my life. It's a huge, huge pool and it's packed. Everyone -- all my batchmates are in uniform. There are boys too -- some in civilian, some in their high school uniforms. They're all staring at me and I'm stark naked. I wonder why I don't just run. I wade towards where my friends are (at the other end of the pool) and when I finally find a space, I sink in and try to hide. "Stop, you're getting my collar wet," a girl beside me says.

Austria, 1800

2007-09-24T19:01:00.000+08:00

I didn't even get to say goodbye, I think sadly. This is what bugs me when I find that I am an Austrian princess circa 1800.

I don't have friends. I have a court. I am never alone. We traipse up and down the palace doing nothing in particular. Part of our job is to look bored. I think that my being Asian should look so odd but when I look at a mirror I see that I'm blonde, blue-eyed and over-all Austrian looking. I start to cry. No one will recognize me now, I think.

Against my better judgment, I come up to some people and ask, "Will you be my friend? Will you be my friend?" But no one wants to be my friend because, well, politics, they explain.

I've been imported, they explain. I will meet my fiance soon.

Fiance, I think. How depressing. Third world made-to-order bride.

I decide to make the most of Austria, 1800. I assume a voice of authority. (This is something I learned from films.) I order tutors. I want to learn Latin, I announce.

People start taking notes.

Latin, I repeat, to make sure they have it. When I am sure I am not going to be contradicted I continue. German, French, Fencing, World History, Cuisine...

I rattle off things I want to learn feeling I have made the most of a depressing situation.

In Disappointment

2007-08-18T09:28:00.000+08:00

Class has never gone so well. My students answer when they're supposed to -- but NOT without raising their hands first, their insights are surprisingly deep, etc. I am Top Teacher and I see him at the observer's chair smiling, approving, taking down little notes that no doubt praise my excellent classroom management skills.

But things start to change. Students start coming and going, cell phones ring, answers go wrong. I try to control things and bring them back to the way they were but it's too late. My professor, my crush who is observing, frowns and shakes his head in disappointment.

Angelito

2007-06-12T15:47:00.000+08:00

I am excited. I run up the steps in my high and pointy shoes feeling like Carrie who is about to take on New York except that I am just Camille taking on the new teacher.

I am a little flushed and disheveled when I get to the faculty room but if there's anything I learned from Carrie, Meredith and Kate it's this: If you look sexed you'll be sexed. So sexed it is.

The small crowd parts. I see him. He smiles in recognition.

The coordinator gestures, "Camille this is --- " The introduction is unnecessary.

"But I know you!" I say in my best flirty voice. But because it is him and he looks like a good boy and because we go way back I sound like I am joking. So it does not look suspect that our handshake is prolonged and that he pulls me in for a really sexy hug.

Illegal Alien

2007-06-07T15:41:00.000+08:00

It was easy enough to get here. Easier than I thought. I feared I would have to go through severe checkpoints where fierce-looking officers demanded for my non-existent visa and searched me for third-world drugs. But here I am like magic.

The mall feels very familiar. I wonder if any mall across the world can make me feel at home but I doubt it as there are certain malls in the Philippines that make me feel lost. Ever for example.

Anyway I like it here in America. I play a game with myself. I look around and try to guess who the Filipinos are but I'm bored within minutes. (Just too many Filipinos, I guess. Not exciting enough.) I consider taking a cab but what if the driver can tell I'm an illegal alien and turn me over to immigration? I fish out my cell phone from my luggage and try to remember how to reach Sunshine.

TNT Forever

2007-06-05T15:58:00.000+08:00

I walk around my new house and feel so much at peace. Dressed in my robe, I stroll around my garden which has a fountain and a gate that connects to a chapel where I can hear a choir sing.

Someone asks me, "When are you going home?"

"Never! I will be TNT forever!" And I laugh a bit but I realize that I am telling the truth.

Later on, or more like in a blink of an eye, I am in a big, beautiful mall with Paolo.

"I've been here before," I tell him. And although it doesn't look exactly familiar, it feels familiar and it's enough to make me happy.

Yumi

2007-06-02T12:54:00.000+08:00

For Sunshine

I hear about this special flight that stops at San Francisco. I book a seat immediately. When I get there I ask how to get to LA.

"Is LA far from here?"

"Yes. No. Somewhat. It all depends" No one will give me a straight answer.

I'm starting to feel really, really desperate, what being stuck in a foreign city with no change of clothes (would it snow?), and no visa (scary!).

But I do manage to teleport to LA and it's Imo I see first, then Nacho who gives me a hug and says, "Ninang Camiw!" and then I see you all smiles and Asha a little nervous and a little thing bundled up in a stroller whom I presume is Yumi. I peer at her and try to decide who she looks like but my eyes are finding it difficult to focus.

***

If I could do just one near perfect thing I’d be happy
They’d write it on my grave, or when they scattered my ashes
On second thoughts I’d rather hang about
and be there with my best friend if she wants me
- Belle and Sebastian

T for Trouble

2007-05-27T19:52:00.000+08:00

Nothing is familiar except his presence. So I go with him quite willingly.

"T for Trouble," he says, looking at me.

I laugh.

8 o' clock

2007-05-23T14:38:00.000+08:00

Reno Dakota there's not an iota of kindness in you
You know you enthrall me and yet you don't call me
It's making me Blue Pantone 292
- The Magnetic Fields

There's a big party in my house but I can't enjoy because I keep running upstairs to wait for his call. My blockmates keep calling me, come down, dance, let's drink to the moon, but I put them off and languish by the phone.

They find me asleep by the phone when the party is over.

"He said 8 o' clock!" I cry into my hands. And then just like that the phone rings.

First a Drop

2007-05-22T11:41:00.000+08:00

I will it to happen. The sky turns pink like it is reluctantly bleeding and the air is so still like the earth is holding her breath. It's so still, still. I am still. Rain, I think. And I feel the Laws of Physics shift, move, and the earth creaks in her orbit and the Universe, accustomed and bored with such fickle requests, refuses to concede. But I insist. Rain, I think. Rain, rain. I ask until my prayer is heard and it rains like a miracle. First a drop, then another. And soon water pours over the city, washes the streets, finds its way into the canals, makes its way into the ocean where it retires, rumbles, ripples because it is happy to come home.

Without Warning

2007-05-21T15:12:00.000+08:00

A warning sign. You came back to haunt me.
- Coldplay

There she is walking to class. She is so sad and lonely. I want to walk up to her and ask her out for a drink. I want to change her life for her or at least get her out of her ratty clothes. I want to tell her how wonderful it is.

I know what class she's going to and I overtake her to beat her to it. I sit down and watch the door for her arrival. She doesn't know anyone in this class and it's going to be hilarious to watch her face scan the room and look for somewhere bearable to sit.

The door opens and she steps inside and wearily surveys the room. (I am laughing deep down inside.) And there it is, an unexpected ripple of joy on her face, a smile for a boy moving his things to give her a seat. Oh Camille, my beautiful young self, I want to warn you about life. I want you to enjoy today, right now. I want to tell you that this boy thinks you are cute. At least ask him his name.

But of course she doesn't. And the term ends and she goes on with her life completely without warning.

No Surprises

2007-05-20T08:22:00.000+08:00

I am doing groceries for Ying's surprise birthday party and I'm having a stark-raving hard time because all the items keep changes aisles.

I make my way to the counter and when I get there, Ying's there with April and I give April a murderous look and she just looks totally spaced out.

No surprises.

Late for Busmath

2007-05-19T10:40:00.000+08:00

Why can't we give love, give love, give love?
'Cause love's such an old-fashioned word.
- David Bowie, "Under Pressure"

It's a college campus catastrophe. The last of the bad people have been gunned down. I wait for him in the bathroom like we agreed. He comes for me, like he promised. He doesn't look at me. He sits on the floor, catching his breath. "Water?" I ask helpfully, gesturing at the sink. He just sits there like he's thinking of something very, very important. "Maybe you'd like to take a piss?" and this time I gesture at the toilet. He looks straight at me, pulls me down to the floor and gives me a kiss.

Thoughts spin in my head. What have I done? What does this mean? Why did he do that? Does this count as cheating? Who am I cheating, exactly? I love him. This is lifetime karma. What year is it? I love him. Maybe we could run away and not commit the same mistakes. I love him.

It's my turn to just sit there and catch my breath and if I don't tell him I love him it's because I'm afraid I might be acting old-fashioned.

"Let's go", he says, "I'll be late for Busmath."

It's my turn to pull him to the floor for a kiss that not only makes him late for Busmath but for Comath1, Comstat, and all his very important courses.

Underwater

2007-05-18T10:19:00.000+08:00

It's coming over you. It's coming over me.
Crashing like a tidal wave that drags me out to sea.
- Plumb

Jill and I look at each other and don't even have to say anything. I wonder if I'll ever get used to digesting my lunch at 2 am. I wonder how I'll get used to doing anything at 2 am. It's unnatural to be up and about: eating, talking, making major decisions.

I'm so tired I don't even notice our friends have joined us. I nod off to sleep, right there on the table. When I come to I see that there are so many people, people I don't even know. I get a sinking feeling in my heart and call out for Jill.

Shawn comes up to me and says, "Chameleon, you need some sleep."

But even as he is saying it I see him slowly disappear and I try to run and scream but I feel like I am underwater and nothing makes sense.

Things I Know

2007-05-17T12:41:00.000+08:00

I thought you were really retarded! I can't believe you're not retarded!
- Garden State

It's food paradise right outside the gate. Fishballs, the pink slush with sugar on top, green mangoes, santol, hotdogs, cotton candy, kwek-kwek.

It crosses my mind that I will need a digestive enzyme what with all this junk I'm eating non-stop but my tummy feels fine. Great, in fact. I've never felt younger or more unstoppable.

I reach inside my "invisible" skirt pocket for my phone and panic momentarily when I find out my phone isn't in there. And the fact that I'm in uniform makes my blood pressure shoot up.

I realize a miracle has happened to me. I'm back in time. Life should be a breeze now that I know what I know. For instance:

1. My clear zit-less face and "hair of an Ivory model" will not last due to stress, wear and tear. Best flaunt these assets now.

2. TA is an addict.

3. I will NOT get pregnant. Do not stress about contraception -- artificial or otherwise. (Hurrah!)

And I find that my thoughts are slowing down, slowing down.

Is there anything I can do, I wonder, to change who I will become? It's a hard life being me.

He comes up to me. He's also in uniform. It's so funny. Does he know what I know about us? Should I tell him? I wish I could take a picture for posterity, for proof but hey, guess what, people won't carry point-and-shoot digital cameras or phones with built in cameras until ten years from now.

"You look retarded," he says.

"I can't believe you're NOT retarded," I muse.

***

Every night I drink a digestive enzyme to keep my ulcers in check and fantasize about the shoes I can buy when I cash in all the vacation days I didn't get to use. It's hard to be number one. Everybody wants to be me. I want to be me. All I need to induce a panic attack (not to mention untimely split ends) is to look over the rival bay and see agents over there closing sales. Who do I have to fuck for all the sales calls to route to my agents? Surely there must be someone who'd appreciate some head. Maybe Gordon from IT but gosh he's so old.

- Stella Evangelista, Night Shift

Play

2007-05-16T09:42:00.000+08:00

We're on stage and try as I might, I can't recall my lines. In fact, I don't remember rehearsing. I don't remember how I got my part. I don't remember how I got here on stage. I don't remember being an actor at all. I'm so disappointed in myself. How did I let something like this slip me by? How can I not have memorized a bunch of lines?

The extra beside me hands me a script. I'm so relieved but as I stare at it closely, I realize I can't read the words.

"I can't read it," I tell him.

He scoffs. He hates me, I can tell.

The lights go on, the curtain goes up and there's so much applause for me. Everyone's looking at me. The spotlight is on me.

There's so much panic deep down in my heart.

Grade 5

2007-05-14T11:14:00.000+08:00

He's not as embarrassingly strange-looking as I remember. I reach for my phone already composing a message to send to my friends: "You will NEVER guess who I encountered today." But I remember that cell phones are forbidden in the room.

He's my teacher. I'm in Grade 5. The desk/chair feels really tiny but I feel good about being back in school. Maybe later I can clear up what level I really am supposed to be in. It's a full class. Everyone is in uniform. Everyone is busy scribbling. When he asks me why I am not busy I say, "I'm done." This startles everyone and they all look at me. I scan the room. All these girls are me. Me, me,me.

SEAL

2007-05-13T09:11:00.000+08:00

Dedicated to all my teachers who made me suffer through SEAL. You scarred me for life.

Here I am again. Dressed in my PE uniform: white shirt, blue jogging pants, name tag, class number. Amazing Race got their concept from this traumatic excursion imposed on all seniors before we graduate. The most traumatic thing of all is the fact that we are NOT allowed to take a bath and there is BARELY a bathroom. This is more horrifying than starting a fire with two sticks, forgetting how to tie a double half stitch, formation marches, doing sit ups, having your tent collapse on you in the middle of the night.

Here I am again. But this time I know better. I break rank. (Screw my team leader!) I run to a building and find a bathroom but it's so dirty and smelly. I take the stairs and run to the bathroom on the next level. Still dirty. I try all the bathrooms as on each of the lower levels. When I can't go any lower and when I remember that I have a fear of basements, I see a bathroom that looks promising from afar. When I get inside I see horses being slaughtered.

Here I am again. I am being punished for missing in action. To make amends I have to do a hundred pumps. And as soon as I am done with my last pump, I get up and run to another building and get inside a bathroom and take my bath. I stand under the shower and start to cry with relief.

***

(When I got back from SEAL 1995, Mama came to school to pick me up. I walked right up to her. She stared at me for what seemed like forever before she gave a little start and finally recognized her daughter underneath the bruises, mire and tears.)

Time Cards

2007-05-11T16:49:00.000+08:00

He thinks I should be made useful so he gives me a bunch of time cards completely assuming I know what to do with them. And I take them figuring I will learn on the job. Upon closer inspection, I see that the time cards of different companies have been mixed up. I see Paolo's time card. His girlfriend's time card. Sunshine's time card. (And she's all the way in the States!) It's chaos in my hands.

Ssshhh, I look up at my team who are on break and who are so noisy. I try to think what I should do with the most chaotic mix of time cards.

I am the New April

2007-05-10T10:30:00.000+08:00

True, it may seem like a stretch
but it's thoughts like this that catch
my troubled head when you're away
and I'm missing you to death.
- Iron and Wine

My blockmates are quite hysterical about the fact that I have not attended a single meeting of Biology and have now exceeded my allowed number of absences. I try to explain that this class is totally unnecessary. Let's not panic, we've graduated, remember? No, no, they say. That ceremony was made void because I spent most of the time smoking the the bathroom with TL and other smokers who were in self-exile. This strikes a chord. Guilty as charged. Oh god. I am the new April.

So where were you, they ask. I was looking for someone. And as soon as I say that I realize I was looking for someone. Who? Who was it that I was looking for? I was missing him to death. My blockmates stare at me and wait for me to explain why I was gone, who I was looking for, what I plan to do about my excess absences. I suddenly feel so, so sleepy and so, so exhausted. I can't even bring myself to say his name.

Search Party

2007-05-08T10:02:00.000+08:00

The closest Charlotte had ever come to getting screwed on a plane was the time she'd lost all her luggage on a flight to Palm Beach.
- Sex and the City

We're walking on the way to the airport. It is, after all, just round the block from the house. I've already lost all my luggage but this doesn't bother me. I try to think of what I packed but I don't remember. I don't even remember where I'm going. I just keep walking.

I see her run towards the stadium that also serves as a museum for all the atrocious things the Nazis did during the war. I try to follow her faster but my legs feel heavy from all the walking. When I finally get there I see that a search party has gotten there before me.

"Where is she?" I ask with mild panic.

"Camille, we're sorry to have to tell you this but..."

"No! You cannot give up! You will search every inch of this stadium until you find her! Until you find some clue!"

"Camille, you have to calm down!" But it's too late because I'm throwing things, breaking the glass, pounding walls."

"No, no, no, no! She's my daughter! You have to find my daughter!"

Mr Moron, Mr President, Mr Big

2007-05-07T09:09:00.000+08:00

We didn't work out. He needs to NOT exist.
- Miranda, Sex and the City

Stairs, white building, huge crowd. Camille stands around waiting like everyone else. Then she sees Mr Moron (called so because he IS a moron). She dodges his line of sight. Tries to make herself disappear but when it becomes apparent that he sees her and her actions are making her look like a moron, she remembers her old school training and collects her best manners.

Camille: Hello, hello, hello! (Overdoes it.)
Mr Moron: (Speaks really slow and stares about like a moron.) Hi. I just got back.
Camille: Oh! Wow! Wonderful!
Mr Moron: Do you want to come over for old times' sake?
Camille: (Laughs hysterically. A sincere laugh. Thinks it is all a joke. Mr Moron is quiet.) Oh god. You're serious. God! Yuck! Bleh! My boyfriend will kill you for saying that.
Mr Moron: I thought you were married.
Camille: You're the one who's married! You married Ms Bangs and got her pregnant one baby after another. Left, right, left. Bing, bang, boom! You stupid, stupid moron!)

***

We're alone even when we're with men.
- Samantha, Sex and the City

I call him that because he's my most pessimistic student and the self-appointed President of the Bitter Club. Exclusive Membership. I am Muse and the only other club's member. You can only join if you believe you are truly alone and so far we've maintained our exclusivity. It just is so disorienting to see him so old. I remember him as really youthful. The first flush of youth, if you will. Tying his tie. Adjusting his cuffs, making sure the proper length shows outside his coat. Making a pen appear from his coat pocket. Youthful arrogance. Being obnoxious. Man-in-Training. It can't be that I was deceived. He was my student and he looked very, very young.

But I look around and see that all my students are old. What happened? Could it be that I'm old too? If they're old, I must be very old. I run to the mirror to check but I am still me. I haven't gotten old at all.

***
I will never be the woman with the perfect hair, who can wear white and not spill on it.
- Carrie, Sex and the City

You're coming down the stairs, hurrying, hanging on to your books. Your hair is flying. Your white dress is billowing behind you. And then he bumps into you as he's coming from the turn in the landing. Your books fly, your skirt flies up so you drop your purse to push your skirt down. You bend, he bends, you collect books. One after another, like a sacred ritual, you pick up the books, comment on them before finally exchanging. When all the books are off the floor, both of you stand. The spell has been broken and now you're a little embarrassed. So you grin a little and keep going down the stairs. Hurrying, hanging on to your books a little bit more tightly this time.

First Day

2007-05-06T08:50:00.000+08:00

The smell of newness is something I love about the first day of school but I pretty much hate everything else. There's so much traffic. There are so many freshmen. There's so much noise.

I make my way to my first class. I have become an expert of wasting time on the first day of school. I have to go through my rules and explain each one. I have to get to know them while drinking cup after cup of coffee to stimulate my exhausted brain cells that have to remember 200 names at the end of the day.

Strangely though, this first day is different. I've barely gotten through explaining my A/F grading system when the bell rings and I have to get through my next class and it happens there again. And I feel I have merely seconds each class.

I wonder who I should talk to this about. The Registrar? How to explain it? "Dear Ma'am, I have reason to believe that I am being robbed of my class time."

A plane is parked in the hallway. "Come, Camille, this way." And in my confusion I just stand there and the plane door closes and it slowly glides away to take off.

Someone says, "That was the only way out of this school!"

Realizing my entrapment, I run after the plane. My papers fall to the floor. My hair comes undone. The door opens. Hysterical, confused and dirty, I jump in.

Shoes, Books, Dolls

2007-05-03T09:54:00.000+08:00

There's so much activity outside the house. It's being prepped for some party. It all seems so... Town and Country. I'm engulfed with a sense of guilt that I wasn't around to help with all the fixing, polishing and repairing. There are pathways where there were once brambles. Everything is shiny and new. The garage has been transformed into some lobby with a lot of leather seats. When I get to my room, I see they've changed it but only a little. Over one wall they put a mirror and some kind of slated window over it.

I stay in my room touching everything in disbelief. I re-arrange my shoes according to color and function. I fix my books according to continent. I plop down on my single bed which was Daddy's single bed. I do everything to mark my territory because somewhere in the back of my mind is a nagging thought that I moved out of this house a long time ago, that I live somewhere else now -- somewhere else where a dog is waiting for me, that I'm merely trespassing on property that belongs to someone else, that all this: this room, these shoes, these books and dolls and yes, this bed I am stubbornly lying on is just a dream.

I Ask

2007-05-02T09:59:00.000+08:00

She's three miles of bad road.
- REM

They've grouped us according to some kind of logic that I still can't get. I'm grouped with Sharon. We're so busy running around in circles that when I finally get the time to talk to her I come off as rude, "So you're part of this distro list.... Why?"

She tells the Person-In-Charge about my manners and I'm kicked out. I hear them behind me, "I told you... She shouldn't have been asked... She's three miles of bad road."

"Why just three?" I ask.

Summer

2007-05-01T08:28:00.000+08:00

I can never resist the urge to walk around St Pain's grounds. Sometimes I fly but today the ceilings keep extending to block my flight. And after many attempts and many bruises, I give up completely and resign myself to walking around like everyone else.

One some occasions, the landscape of the school changes and staircases appear where there was a wall. Or walls appear where there were rooms. This scares me.

I get a call from Moe.

Moe: You're still there?

Me: I'm going home. See you later!

Moe: You can't. Tina, remember? She has papers you have to sign.

Me: (Grumble, grumble.) Can't it wait until tomorrow? I have to leave. There's this staircase that wasn't there yesterday and I tried to fly but the ceilings ---

Moe: No! They're MY papers and I entrusted them to HER and all you have to do is sign. Why do you have to be such a brat about this after she all she's done to help! Kawawa naman sya. Do you not know how important she is to me? How important those papers are?

Me: Well! If they're so important why didn't she just come up to me earlier? I was here the whole time --

And the line gets cut and I have no choice but to find this girl. But it's late and darkness has cloaked the building in an eerie shade of gray. And there have been more interior changes than a few minutes ago. I'm only now beginning to wonder: What papers? Why are they with Tina? What am I doing in St Pain when it's summer?

PInk Dress

2007-04-29T14:00:00.000+08:00

The invitation said cocktails. I am wearing my pink dress with flip-flops -- an oversight on my part -- and I sip my drink looking bemused, practicing what to say in my head should anyone question my inappropriate choice of footwear.

They've done something clever with the pool: floating candles and lotus flowers. Maybe I should sit on the edge of the pool and kind of romantically dangle my legs over the water. That way I can do away with the fashion catastrophe I am wearing. But I wouldn't want to get my pink dress wet. Conundrum.

I suddenly see him. No, no, I hear him asking around for me. I run towards him and pull him aside.

"What are you doing here?" but I am not really angry.

I pull him along. We sneak up the stairs. It's dark. The carpet muffles the unbearable flipping-flopping of my flip-flops. I find my room. We enter it and wordlessly tumble into bed, our lips locked in a kiss.

Secret Rhyme

2007-04-23T11:42:00.000+08:00

The earthquake has made the house tilt and now water is coming in through the windows, the doors, the ceiling. We all huddle in the room that seems the driest although by no means is it dry. I realize Forest is missing. I run out to find him. I might have lost him forever. Poor baby won't even understand what's happening to him. But I find him under the bed, where he usually hides and I call him, "Kwinks?" But he's mad at me for losing him so he doesn't move. I pick him up, hug him tight and recite a silly secret rhyme: "All dogs are baby kwinkas who love linka-linkas and babies and mommies should be together forever." This pleases him. He puts his nose to mine and everything is okay.

His Hair

2007-04-18T15:57:00.000+08:00

Like pixelated scraps of jazz mags in your headlights.

It's the last few minutes of class. I can't concentrate because Moe is outside the door making faces at me. I roll my eyes at him, feign anger, ignore him but he keeps doing it until I laugh and my teacher looks at me and asks, "What's so funny?" And I say, "Nothing. I mean, what you just said. I mean, isn't it funny how so many people aren't aware of that?" And my golly, what's this, I keep laughing at my moronic answer and can't stop. "I am such a moron!" I think and laugh and laugh. You know when you start crying and just can't stop? That's how the laughter just keeps escaping me. I purse my lips to try to keep my mouth shut, I pinch myself, do my best to collect a somber thought: poverty, heartbreak, death but not a sad thought sinks in and the laughter gurgles up my body like water from underground.

The wall expands, becomes fluid, like an infinite dream.

Outside the room:

Solemn gazes of students deciphering a painting.
A boy in a workshop holding a ruler.
Footsteps in the courtyard resembling a clear pulse.
Music from a boom box. A boy learning to bike.
Sunlight bouncing off fountains. Dogs sniffing the air. A sandbox.
A girl tying her shoelace. Fishballs frying. A kite floating in the sky.
An old man sweeping leaves towards a little fire on the pavement.

I am still laughing. I go to Moe who is waiting outside. I touch his hair.

Twilight

2007-04-13T10:26:00.000+08:00

Daddy and I are walking down the street of our old house. We see an alligator cross the road. Daddy, clown that he is, chases it. I say, "Stop it, Daddy, it's not funny." The next step he takes is into quick sand and I see him get swallowed by the ground in a second. I run to where he is and only see a rumple in the otherwise smooth sand. I stick my hand in this rumble and feel around all the while shouting, "Someone please help me save my Daddy!" I think I even feel his fingers for a while.

I panic. I run up and down the streets. "Help, I need help, someone please help me!"

There's no one there. It's twilight and the houses cast funny shadows on the pavement.

2007-04-11T17:07:00.000+08:00

I turn my camera on
I cut my fingers on the way
I feel me slipping away
- Spoon

"It's for the official newsletter," the photographer says. Moe and I look at each other because it's not clear which newsletter our faces will appear but our confused glance is brief and we go back to being camera whores. It's almost, dare I say it, like a wedding pictorial. An everlasting time of keeping up everlasting smiles. But this time, maybe because I don't have hairpins poking my scalp, and maybe because for some reason my cheeks don't hurt from smiling, I'm having fun.

But when I look to the left, I realize it's a bedroom. Auntie Nieves' bedroom, in fact. And Paolo is sleeping and I kinda panic because he's late for work. So I tell Moe, "Go wake him up."

As soon as Paolo wakes up and I look behind me, I see that I'm back in my house and there's a party. And Paolo's girl friend arrives and I look at her closely and I stifle a giggle until I find Paolo alone and whisper to him, "Tell your girlfriend her shoes don't match."

Only Forest

2007-04-09T05:48:00.000+08:00

It starts out innocently enough -- a rash on my left arm. It's Mama who notices when it's worse. But by then my whole body is covered in boils and the more stressed out I get the more vicious they grow. Mama won't even look at me and shoves me off the bed when I try to get close to her like I used to do when I was sick.

Only Forest still wants to sleep beside me.

Take this Club

2007-04-04T10:35:00.000+08:00

Isn't this fun? It's like hell with a cover charge.
- Simon, Sex and the City

This is TL's lakad, for sure. It's fun to see friends in action, fun to watch them do things they're paid to do. We watch them secretly amused, laughing inside because we know this person is not this person pretending to be so... in charge.

Take this club for example. This is work for TL and as official kibitzers we take advantage of the bar, the boys, the beluga caviar.

The lights swirl. I feel lost. I see all these faces I don't recognize. I'm afraid. The floor tilts. The walls shrink. I try to scream but can't find my voice.

After the End of the World

2007-04-02T15:03:00.000+08:00

He doesn't know street names but he drew me a map anyway which I follow the best that I can. And I start to feel really nostalgic when I recognize where I am. Taft Avenue is gone, ashes. Nothing remains but a school which has a name that I can't remember.

I pull myself together. Some structures around me are still smoldering. I hear sirens. This is the first day after the end of the world.

I see her desk. I start to cry. Everything is wet, grimy, but still intact. First, her records, her library books, her lunch box. I'm happy she isn't here to see this.

I leave as soon as I am done and start to worry which courier will agree to send this stuff.