Blumentritt

Aquinian Journal

Volume 4

Copyright 2020

Aquinian Journal is the official literary folio of Aquinas School by The Bellows.

Comments and suggestions may be sent to: aquinastbp@gmail.com /aquinastbp 183 F. Blumentritt St., San Juan City 1500

All rights reserved

This book is not for sale

Cover photo taken from Google Maps

Introduction

Stretching over a kilometer and a half, F. Blumentritt is one of the major roads in the City of San Juan. And along it stands Aquinas, a landmark for the last five and a half decades on what was once dubbed the “Dominican Hill”.

Journeys to a Santa Lucia or Kalentong are often completed with a quick glimpse of the Santuario and the school’s red brick facade. Aquinians both old and new wonder what goes on within those walls—what stories its halls have to offer us all.

Others

Masculinity 46

by Jaime Martin Arciaga

Recto 63

by Jason Sigales

Mother

by Jason Sigales

She stands atop the hill

Her arms crossed Seeking only to lecture

Join your brothers Rebel against her ways

She stands atop the hill Her arms wide open Seeking only to nurture

Join your brothers Revel in her embrace

A prison that broke me? A house that built me?

Who is she?

She is our mother She is our home

Pababa ni André Mikhail Abad

Sangandaan ni John Vincent Varlez

Lucia ni Jethro Lagmay

by Richard Red Elli

Speck of Dust

by Ryle Rusell Macachor

We realize our significance when we are brought to places that remind us of our frailty – how we are a speck of dust in a sea of galaxies, a stroke of the brush in a majestic masterpiece.

In my case, I felt that significance in my first hike – the ascent to Mt. Maculot. Standing 947 meters above sea level in the heart of Cuenca, Batangas, this majestic mountain is very popular because apparently, it gives the best view of the Taal Volcano and the lakes. I was feeling rather confident when my friend invited me for a traverse to the summit. But since it was my first hike, we were warned that the climb will be tricky, and we were advised to settle for what they called the “Rockies” instead.

My buddies from high school were with me. What started as plans of pizza and Playstation in the weekend became a bus ride to Batangas and we found ourselves booking a tour guide for the hike. I felt the rush of adrenaline every step of the way, probably because I’d heard so much about the breathtaking view that awaited the brave souls who were up for the challenge. It’s safe to say that the trail was manageable. I had to watch my steps because there were lots of loose soil and mossy rocks. The many makeshift rest stations and stores (the 7-11s, we called them) made the trek more convenient. After about two hours of sweat and

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struggle, we reached the campsite. We rested a bit, and then after about half an hour of wrestling with razorsharp shoulder-high cogon grass, grappling with ropes down a muddy track, tiptoeing along a knife-edge trail and literally scrambling up huge boulders, we reached the famous volcanic wall, the Rockies.

It wasn’t breathtaking. No, breathtaking is the word you use when you see your crush at the prom. The view from the Rockies was glorious – it was a piece of heaven. All I could see were gradients of white and green and blue, the sun peeking through the swirls of clouds above my head and endless ascents and descents of grass and rock extending to the horizon. In front of me, the serene Taal Lake, and at the center, stood the imperial Taal Volcano. Experts had lots of speculation as to how the Rockies were formed – all of which involved earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. It was unthinkable for me that right where I was standing, right where what seemed to be a front row seat in that slice of paradise, was actually a divine casualty of one of nature’s rather ugly episodes. It was a spiritual experience.

Society sets us up to accomplish, acquire, and achieve; so we find ourselves stumbling through life, always pursuing greatness and never filling that nagging hole in our guts. It is baffling how we can lead construed, busy, misdirected lives, and aim to be tougher, stronger, and prouder, when actually it is in moments that we are humbled that we realize our real purpose and value.

My first trek taught me that I am not entitled to greatness. It taught me that I am small. Nevertheless, it also taught me that I wasn’t insignificant. I am part of something bigger. I am a cell in a body, and everything I do affects the whole that I belong to. My trek taught me that we are to protect the majesty of nature so that the future generations can witness it and have the same spiritual experiences that we did. I went home that day unable to reach the summit, but I knew my

10 | Speck of Dust

purpose: being part of the mechanism of the universe. I was born to serve, to give, and to minister; and if doing that would make me greater, better, and higher, then I would just have to come down the mountain and serve more, give more, and minister more.

by Gian Clarke Raphael Marquez

The shadows have taken over. With only the stars’ light guiding my eyes. My thoughts are in an endless sea of darkness.

I don’t want to be like this anymore. A river flows endlessly in my eyes. In the same river, my heart feels like drowning.

Every single night of being like this. When can I open my eyes without the remnants of yesterday?

Silence breaks as my phone lit up It’s you. Out of nowhere, I felt a twinge.

Friday, I’m In Love

by Austin Castañeda

Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. Friday is my name. What kind of stupid name is Friday? I am an average teenager who doesn’t really have much self-esteem. The feeling of being content, but knowing that someone will always be better than me. That is why I have given up my dreams. I have given up everything and got sucked into the system when my father died almost eight years ago. I still can’t get over it. Losing a loved that you know so much is the reason for who I am today: a strong person with a strong heart yet feels guilt easily. He died of lung cancer and I should have known to tell him to stop smoking. But he knew himself that he wasn’t going to last long. It is important to look at the past in a positive manner and taking the lessons that you have learned as you move forward into the future. That is what I am doing. And now I am what I believe to be successful: managing a shady but stable business.

Time doesn’t stay forever though, and time came that I must move out of my mother’s house and leave my little sister to live in an apartment. It may be a depressing moment, but a golden opportunity so I could pay them back for what they have given me all these years. I am lucky to have such a caring family and I need to pay respect to them and help them when needed. But for now, I need to put in time and effort.

My savings weren’t enough to pay for rent fully, so I have asked Mom if she could give me a hand. She has told me to go to the attic and gather what I could sell for the amount of cash I needed. I haven’t been to the attic in quite a while since my father died. I know what to expect when climbing up there. I see my old Transformers toys that my father used to buy for me. It brings a smile to my face to see them again in that container. I see Bumblebee, the black and yellow robot that transforms into a small car which I fondly remember because back then he went missing and I could not last an hour without crying. The light from the sun shines through the window, and at the perfect angle, upon my old electric guitar with the amplifier behind it.

The flashy blazing red that shine on its body is always a nice sight. It is both satisfying and saddening to see it again. I know that this guitar is the evidence of a failed dream – something that I always wanted to be but gave up because I was too weak. As I was staring at it, I notice something weird on the amplifier behind it: a note sticking on the front of it. Why would a note be here at this time? I turn on the flashlight on my phone, flip the note, and read. “Why is the back of an amplifier sometimes hollow?” That is strange. Where did this note come from and what does it mean? I think about it for a while in the attic and check the back of the amplifier. It’s true. Sometimes they have spaces behind the speaker where there is a small pocket. I reach in and feel an old mixtape with another note stuck to it. Intrigued, I read the note. It reads, “For you, Friday.”

So I take the mixtape and ask Mom if she knows about this. She believes it is something my father left when he packed his old things and placed them in the attic. “I didn’t notice it either, Friday,” she says to me. My heartbeat is racing. This is something that Father left before he passed away. I am so interested to hear what is in it. So I ask Mother where I could play this then head to the old VHS player under the television collecting dust.

I put the mixtape in and a song begins to play. “I don’t care if Monday’s blue, Tuesday’s gray, and Wednesday too…” This song. It reminds me of something. “Thursday, I don’t care about you,” the song continues. “It’s Friday. I’m in love.” Mother and little sister hear this and go over to the living room. I am feeling melancholy, a strange feeling of sadness that I couldn’t explain. Tears run down my eyes as I am listening to the song. “This was your father’s favorite song. He always sang this to me.” I didn’t remember my father much, only the few lessons he gave me. So this was why I am named Friday: over an old ‘80s The Cure song. It doesn’t really matter much at first, but it is true that sometimes your parents name you after something they love. This is the last thing that I will ever hear of father that basically tells me how much he loves me. It is such an emotional rollercoaster.

The day after, I cancel my plans with the business and begin to do small gigs in with my old guitar that I restored from the attic. Ever so slowly, I start gaining money to go to my apartment and record my own songs that I don’t realize people actually grow to love. This is it, the dream I had before my father died. I am finally reaching it. It is right in front of me, at arm’s reach. Years have passed and I have made more and more music that people love until finally, I was able to help my mother and my little sister live a better life and be at rest. It is strange how one song basically changes my life. Music is more than just something you listen to. Music speaks to you and, in a way, you get this feeling of nostalgia and it can bring you to an old memory – a place, a time, a dream. In this scenario, it is my father’s voice that I heard in this song.

“Always take a big bite

It’s such a gorgeous sight

To see you in the middle of the night

You can never get enough

Enough of this stuff”

It’s Friday, I’m in love.

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Mga Alamat (Isang Balada)

ni Jason Sigales

Nakatingala sa mga tala

Sabik na makita ang ‘yong mukha

Ginawang misteryo ang

Sarili sa katauhang

Sumisintang lubos sa’yo

Ano man ang layo

Umaasa pa rin sa dalangin

Na ang ngalan mo’y malaman namin

Bulalaka’y tinawag

Ang mithii’y inihayag

Upang ika’y makilala

At makita kita

Kalawaka’y aakyatin

Langit ay susubuking abutin

Doon mo ‘ko babatiin

Pagkatapos, yayakapin

Hanging sariwa’y lalanghapin

Tanaw ay dadamdamin

Uminat ka sa kalayuan

Nananabik sa kalayaan

Dagsin sisihin sa pagkapiit

Walang silbi ang pagkagalit

Kaya kinimkim ang akibat

Sa kalaliman ng dagat

16 | Mga Alamat (Isang Balada)

Hindi nakita ng araw

Hinayaan mo itong umapaw

Kinondena ang sumamba

Sa dambana ng kabaka

Kinaligtaan ka nila

Bumenggansa ka

Bumenggansa

Bumenggansa

Bumenggansa

Dala ang silakbo

Dumating ang bagyo

Bumabaha na ng poot mo

Labanan at ipakita

Ang bakal na kamay mo at Siya ay bigyan ng parusa

Umulan at lumagapak

Ang mga bato sa dagat

Nabuo, bundok at lambak

Kalangitan at karagatan

Yumayanig sa’yong digmaan

Wala na ang katahimikan

Walang-wala na Wala na

Kapayapaa’y patay

Nasaan ka ba?

Mundo ko’y walang kulay

Nasaan ka ba?

Langit, dagat magkaaway

Nasaan ka ba?

Luha ang tangi kong alay

Nasaan ka?

Mga Alamat (Isang Balada) |

18 | Kadena

Kadena ni Kenneth Ryan Febrero

Don’t Deify A Lover

by Daniel Ramos III

Once I’ve mistaken Cigarettes for incense Liquor for holy water Lies for scriptures And lips as ultimate pilgrimage I must traverse

But alas! What hellish torrents Of fire blaze in my mind To realize that the idolatrous Admiration would disappoint To realize that someone devilish Can pass for an angel

The Holy reveals to be Profane (as it should be) Once you cease deifying a lover

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Ilusyon ni Prince Alvin Afable

Tagaktak na naman itong aking pawis. Bawat segundo ay nasasayang. Minuto ay lumilipas. Busina at mga sasakyang mga sumisingit. Wala man lang pagbibigayan at pagpaparaya. Normal na ito sa arawaraw na biyahe.

6:30 AM

Hala, takbo. Matulin ang lakad. Hingal ang kapalit ng bawat pagmamadali. Nakatatak sa isipan, “Kailangan mong maabutan ang maliit na kamay ng relong tututok sa harapan ng numerong 7”.

7:00 AM

Papasok na rin, tutungtong sa kwadradong silid na ito. “Nais ko lang ay matuto at makapagtapos ng kolehiyo kahit wala ng medalya basta may sertipiko,” bulong sa sarili.

8:00 AM

Pasahan na pala ng sulating papel at iba pang akademikong gawain. Hayan na ang guro. Sabay sa tibok ng aking puso ang kanyang hakbang papalapit sa akin. “Oh, Mr. Afable, nasa’n na ang gawain mo?” nakasimangot ang titser. Natapos ang asignatura at ang tanging nabigkas ko lamang ay “Pasensya na ho.”

20 | Ilusyon

10:00 AM

Oras na upang kumain subalit nagtatalo sa isipan ko ang dalawang bagay. Ang pagkain o pagtatapos sa mga gawain ng ibang asignatura. Lumipas ang mahabang oras at ‘di ko pansin kung anong oras na ba. Tingin sa relo kong nasa kanang kamay.

1:30 PM

Uwian na pala. Makalabas na sa paaralang ito. Maghuhugas at magsasaing pa ako, mga gawaing sinasariwa habang nakikinig sa musika ng telepono. Dito sa gitna ng di-natatapos na pila ng mga tao at sasakyan.

2:00 PM

Maghahanda na ako ng makakain at magbibihis. Pahinga nang ilang minuto. Kung sampu lamang ako, madali ko itong magagawa. Papatak na ang alas tres. Hinahanap na ako ng aming coach.

6:00 PM

Alas sais nang matapos ang tatlong oras na practice. Uuwi na ako at makakapagpahinga na. Magmamano kay itay at inay.

Tumunog ang alarm.

“Alvin, Lunes na! May pasok ka pa!” bulyaw ni Ina.

“Kay sarap ng tulog ko,” ako ay nagbuntunghininga. Hinanda ang sarili at bitbit ang gamit sa konstruksyon. Kung ipinanganak lang sana akong may kahit kaunting yaman at kalayaan ay magagawa ko ang lahat ng nasa panaginip ko. Ngunit, maaga akong namulat sa ganitong antas ng buhay.

Bilang

ni G. Mark Dacquel

Isa, dalawa, tatlo

Unti-unting naglaho

Apat, lima, anim

Nangapa sa dilim

Pito, walo, siyam

Wala man lang paalam

At sampu

Ika’y tuluyang lumayo

by Harry Dominic Barotea

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Guitar

by Cyeloune Migele Tejada

Patimpalak ni Aaron Avixyz Araza

Sa panandaliang pagtigil ng agos ng buhay

At sa pangangailangang manatili sa bahay

Aking nabasa: “Dapat may bago na akong natutunan”

Bakit hindi nga naman? Wala namang humahadlang na katungkulan

Ilang linggo nang nakalipasat ilang linggo pa sa hinaharap

Hindi mapigilan ang aking mata na kumislap Sa bertuwal na mundo ng mga pampalipas-oras Kung saan angking talino sa paglalaro’y pinapamalas

Nagsasayang lamang ba ng panahon?

‘Di kasalanan ang magpahinga nang ang utak ay hindi maaligaga

“Ang panahong ‘to ay hindi paramihan ng natutunan. Bawat bagong umaga sa ating mga tahanan ay mismong isang biyaya na naman Nasa labas ang tunay na laban Sa ngayon, tatakasan ko muna ang ingay ng mundo...

...ngunit, ako’y babalik.”

Dibuho ni Jan Mikael Art Bryan Asis

Tula ni Gian Clarke Raphael Marquez

Kailan nga ba ang huling beses na aking pinagmasdan ang mundo mula sa aking durungawan?

Ang huni ng mga ibon na malayang lumilipad sa himpapawid

Ang kalangitang tila ba isang karagatan Hanging maalinsangan dala ng araw na tirik sa katanghalian

Katahimikang umaalingawngaw bunsod ng kawalan ng mga behikulo sa lansangang minsan pinuno nito

Ang mundong tila ba banayad sa mata ngunit may iniindang delubyo’t kapansanan Ang mundong tila ba pinagkaitan ng kaginhawaan at ng inaasam-asam na katahimikan

Ang pagsisiil sa sambayanang walang hinangad kundi maging katulad ng mga ibong malaya sa himpapawid

Bughaw na kalangitang napapalitan ng pulang karatagang niyurakan ng dugo’t dahas

Ang malinis na hanging itinatago ang kadungisang nagaganap sa kanyang likuran

Ang katahimikang bakas sa lansangan na natatabunan ng dumadagungdong na ingay mula sa mga taong sumisigaw ng saklolo’t ayuda

Kailan nga ba ang huling beses na aking pinagmasdan ang mundo mula sa aking durungawan?

Obispado ni John Vincent Varlez

Horror Stories and Fairy Tales

by Daniel Ramos III

Horror stories crept underneath his bedroom floor while his mother watched the virtual nightmare devour his soul. The night had spanned through years and years as he, himself, had become a walking horror, shooting lost bullets and oppressing those who didn’t follow his alleged virtue.

And the cycle repeats. She had seen transcendent fairies come alive. Though in reality, they remained only in storybooks. She carried this illusion growing up as the veil of pseudo-bliss grew stronger. Don’t get fooled, though! She may be living in the 21st century but she spread tales as old as times, making earth flat since the Dark Ages.

And the cycle repeats.

A Propitious Time to Revisit Religion

by Salvador Tulalian II

In life, there will always be contrasting parties (if not contending forces) for each and every one of us has their own set of beliefs, mindsets, and a unique way of thinking. Our beliefs make us who we are since they affect our actions. And as we grow up and live them out, walls start to separate us instead of bridges of unity and friendship connecting us.

This stark reality finds no better application than in the matter of religion. People from all walks of life go over the subject of religion with a fine-tooth comb; or better yet, with the ticklish issue of religion, a fanatic or a devotee leaves no stone unturned. Indeed, everyone is always willing to bat for his own religious denomination.

Let me quote what Pocahontas said to Captain John Smith, “You think the only people who are people are the people who look and think like you.” This encapsulates our way of thinking towards a person who has a different belief from us. We often try to avoid them or blame them when there’s a problem. An example could be the bombings caused by terrorism, which a majority of us would point our accusing fingers to our Muslim brothers. But why is it when we hear the words “bomb” and “terror” they automatically pop

out of our minds? Is it because they act differently? Is it because in the past most of the reported incidents were incited by one of their own? Isn’t it possible too, that these acts were also performed by other religious cliques?

There is no “bad” religion. The other religions or religious groups seemingly appear to be bad to us because each of us symbolizes or propagates the religious denomination that we are respectively a member of. There are times that we commit wrong doings against our fellow humans. And the adverse effect does not merely reflect on us but on our respective religions as well. This mindset of ours should then be changed and we must always know that one man doesn’t describe the whole congregation.

We can’t be absolutely sure as our beliefs all have an equal of possibility. What good does it make if we try to change other people’s faith if there is no assurance in life? To be sure, these can only be tested in the crucible of death!

As long as our own belief makes us a better person and we don’t step on other people’s name, reputation, or dignity, we must continue to keep our own religion in our hearts and minds. For at the end of the day, even if it proven to be false, we would have at least been a good person to others.

It is unfortunate that our world lacks this trust, these connections, and this respect—because we only trust the ones who are like us, because we only seriously deal with the ones with whom we share this set of beliefs, and because we cannot accept that of others.

It must be stressed that respect for religious difference is all we need for a peaceful co-existence. As Pope Francis once exhorted, “We implore the leaders of nations to listen to the plea of millions of human beings who long for peace and justice in the world, who demand respect for their God-given

rights, who have urgent need of bread, not guns. Sadly, we are witnessing a presentation of religion and religious values in a fundamentalist way, which is used to justify the spread of hatred, discrimination, and violence. The justification of such crimes on the basis of religious ideas is unacceptable for ‘God is not the author of confusion, but of peace’ (I Corinthians 14:33). Moreover, respect for religious difference is the necessary condition for the peaceful cohabitation of different ethnic and religious communities.”

Oftentimes, I entertain the thought that what would our world be if there was no religion? What would our world be if all of us lived innocently like children? What would our world be if we all respected each other’s beliefs?

Certainly, I personally believe in the existence of supreme being, a reckoning force in the universe that created us all. But as I could see it, the future of humanity hangs in the balance if we humans lead ourselves to the path to war that could mean the end of humanity.

Dissonance

by Jaime Martin Arciaga

What would you do if you realized it was a lie? Everything you stood for had crumbled to fallacies Would you go against the river, against what’s nigh?

Or would you accept the realization and be at peace? An idea appears and your cherished idols and beliefs die

Even your peers start to wave and shake at their knees

Would you be filled with indignation and cry? Or down in a passion of dissatisfaction for this? The world is what you perceive it to be, so try

Make an attempt to understand your bliss

Your stagnant dissonance would make you shy

From the idea that change is sweet like a kiss

Yet dreaded like a final kiss of goodbye

Perhaps you would fight to keep it like this Just to see it slip away from you and sigh

It’s time to pay your fees

The false has lost its scythe Reality will scourge you like bees But in return, give you sight

Mental Health Is Overrated

by Benjamin Christoph Santos

I’m just going to let it out there for everybody to hear: mental health is so overrated. Don’t get me wrong. Mental health is an important aspect of anyone’s wellbeing and nothing can change that. However, mental health is getting all the attention it needs for all the wrong reasons. What I’m about to talk about is not addressed to the people who suffer from actual mental illnesses but rather to the people who have little or no understanding about them.

Mental health, in my opinion, is so misunderstood by the general public to the point that the people who suffer are already afraid to be vocal about what they feel out of the fear of being ridiculed or being called out for seeking attention. I can go on Facebook any day and see at least one depression-related post. Sometimes, you even see one of those lyric videos that say “I just wanna die” or “I don’t wanna be alive” and the accompanying video is a clear misinterpretation of the song’s message. Other times, I’d also see online comic strips romanticizing depression which seems completely wrong to me. You don’t just take a random disorder and make it the ideal thing. It’s confusing as to why people actually do this and have the courage to do it on the internet.

I’m very positive that most of the time people online don’t even know the true definition of several

mental illnesses. Terms, most especially “depression” and “anxiety” are often misused and mistaken for normal human emotions although both of them are serious mental disorders that require medical attention and medicine.

As a result, it has become common to joke about such issues. Depression jokes have circulated around the internet. It’s devastating to have a serious condition and to only see that condition go around as some sort of joke on the internet. It really sucks how there’s always a possibility that people think you’re joking about a mental illness although you’re serious. This all blooms from the lack of understanding people have on the issue.

Some other individuals out there would fake a mental illness like depression or obsessive-compulsive disorder as an attempt to stand out from the crowd or just to have one unique factor about themselves. Doing this is a form of invalidating someone’s condition. Let me remind you that, at times, it’s not okay to be not okay.

Do not self-diagnose. There’s more to mental health issues than meets the eye. Mental issues are very complicated for an average person to understand. What makes this worse is that the internet, the go-to source of information, confuses people even more. If you look up depression on Google, you’re going to see a lot of online depression tests in the search results. Even the internet encourages self-diagnosis.

Remember that there are professionals out there who have been in the medical field for years. They have more knowledge and experience on mental illnesses so in one way or another, their profession is taken for granted because people would rather turn to the internet for answers. People should only be diagnosed by real and trained professionals who’ve graduated with a degree. On that note, if you seriously feel that something is affecting your mental wellbeing, I highly suggest that you visit a psychiatrist as soon as

you can before it gets worse. Do not base your possible condition off of the internet.

However, keep in mind that despite all that’s been revolving around how mental illnesses are not something to joke about, it still is. Mental illnesses are still a prominent problem nonetheless, and it still continues to be the life-threatening issues it has always been. These illnesses can actually take someone’s life away and that would also affect their loved ones. If not treated properly, it will become explosive. It will become worse for the person experiencing it. It has become such a prevalent issue that even the government of the Philippines is working on it by enacting the Mental Health Law.

At the end of the day, we should do our part to help combat the effects of misunderstandings around mental illnesses. If someone approaches you who thinks they have a problem, instead of doctoring them, be a friend and simply be there for them. You yourself may not have the years of practice a psychiatrist may have had, but always remember that there’s always something you can do to help.

The Knife

by Kenneth Gabriel Opoc

[Trigger warning: Suicide]

There I was, just inches between life and death.

The feeling was unexplainable. I didn’t know if I should be happy about myself, or sad about them. Everyone was too busy making dinner and I was not their priority. And I was just standing here by the sink, holding a kitchen knife by its handle. The pointed end was facing where I was.

I tilted the knife a little to the right. In the reflection was the tchotchke I bought for my wife on our first anniversary back then, before we were married. It was a snow globe with the two of us standing inside, holding each other’s backs.

“Happy anniversary, darling!” I surprised her with a gift-wrapped box and a smile of excitement. She smiled, kissed me, and took the gift.

My wife took a look around the present, hoping there was some extra surprise to be found. But there was no surprise. The box was the surprise.

She tore the present open and saw the transparent packaging of the snow globe. I thought I’ll be seeing a

face of contentment next. Instead I found a speechless expression with hints of sadness and disappointment.

“Wow… thanks, hon,” she said, trying hard to make a smile at me. Then she walked towards the piano and placed the tchotchke on it, and walked upstairs.

I thought to myself, “Why did this happen?” I was about to drop my rage onto her, but I couldn’t because she was so emotional. “I’ll let this pass,” and I inhaled, deeply keeping my anger then exhaled, letting everything that happened go.

Then I was back. The knife was still tilted to show the snow globe’s reflection. But it didn’t trigger me. I wasn’t sure of what I’m feeling—what I’m supposed to feel. Was it supposedly good memories that went wrong? Was it anxiety I had in front of my wife showing my gift? Or is her indifference just putting me to influence? I couldn’t make a conclusion with what I’m really feeling.

I tilted the knife now to the left. I saw the framed photo of the two of us after our honeymoon. We were holding hands. Exchanging looks. And in matching outfits.

“Look, honey! I put our picture into this gorgeous frame! It fits perfectly, even the ambience of the frame blends with our photo!” I told her, excited. She looked at the portrait. Smiling, she touched the laminated photo. Her fingers slide down with the texture of the picture.

I thought I had her happier than ever, but she looked away, and showed a nearly-crying face without her even realizing it. Worried, I asked her. “What’s wrong, dear? Aren’t you happy we got to treasure this moment?”

She looked back at me, holding her tears. “It’s fine honey. I just… I just got something in my eye.” Taking the portrait, she displayed it on the nearest

38 | The Knife

table, then for no reason, walked into the bathroom.

While sitting on the bed, there was a sudden contemplation. “What’s with her? First, the snow globe. Now, this?” I thought without realizing I said that out loud. I looked at the photo frame. It was standing on the dining table.

Infuriated, I tried to calm myself down. I fidgeted my hands continuously. And for some psychological reason I was already in peace.

Sad that this present will negatively break her into tears, I slowly set this memory aside.

I was back again. The knife is now pointing at me. I wasn’t aware how it was oriented to this or how related these memories were to how I’m supposed to feel.

I’ve contemplated well enough for the final moments of my life. I’ve been living the rest of my life with a family that’s been a root of depressing memories. I’m ready.

I placed the knife near my neck. I have made up my mind. All I had to do was slash through.

It’s… almost…

“No!” shouted a voice from behind.

To my surprise, I suddenly slashed the knife across. My sight blacked out. I lied unconscious on the floor.

I should’ve been done.

But my eyes opened. I was lying on a bed with metal railings. The room was silent as the abyss in my unconsciousness. Then the door opened.

“You’re awake, Mr. Mayward.” The nurse entered with a tray filled with breakfast food. “You’re lucky you’re still alive. If it weren’t for your wife’s

BLUMENTRITT

immediate action, you would’ve crossed the other side.”

I didn’t answer back. I observed the room. Tidy sofas, open bathroom, flat screen TV. She was the only one in the room. No one else. Then I remembered, “Where… Where is my wife?”

A sudden change of expression was caught in the nurse’s eyes. “She’s gone.”

In a split second, I burst into tears. “Why? Why? Who killed—” Out of instinct I got up and grabbed the kitchen knife from the tray. “What… What happened… to my wife… Who… Who—” I looked at the knife. The reflection shows a scar on my neck.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Mayward,” the nurse heartbrokenly said.

“No. No. She can’t She… she didn’t. She—”

And then I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. I felt uneasy. I was hyperventilating. I was slowly spacing out into the blurry non-contextual inexistence. I hear an alarming sound. “Emergency! Patient under cardiac arrest! Emergency!” But the cry for help didn’t keep me from becoming unconscious.

I looked into the ceiling. Light green and fluorescent lights are all I see. As I faint into the darkness, the lights shone into my eyes. And snap. The gates were closed.

But then, within a blink, I’m already sitting on sand, together with her. We were alone. Seashells and starfish are scattered around us.

I looked at her. She wasn’t someone you’d get attracted to physically. But I’ve been with her long enough to find out her inner being. ‘twas the perfect time to t ell her that I love her.

This is the moment I’ve been waiting for.

40 | The Knife

Listen (While You Can)

by Anonymous

[Trigger warning: Suicide]

Have you ever experienced someone you know dying in the same environment you are in? The feeling that one day they would be gone without you noticing it. Not realizing why they did it is a mystery, but knowing the truth behind it makes it worse. The person who took care of me when was I alone, the person who provided me joy, just vanished. That person was my uncle.

One day, on a hot afternoon, he came into my house because his was like an oven. He told me he wanted to hang out at my place for a while, but it was awkward for me because he came uninvited yet I agreed to his request. I saw him watch TV and lied on the couch. I was very quiet and was asking myself, “When will he leave?” He was very weird at that time. His wife had left him without notice. He screamed and ran outside that morning. It shocked me and then he’s here in my house lying on the couch. He then told me that he’s going home and thanked me. He gave me a firm handshake. It was weird, but I ignored it.

Days passed and I was home from school exhausted so I lied down on my bed and rested a bit.

BLUMENTRITT

I changed clothes and went to the bathroom. I was doing my business but then I heard a sound. It was a weird sound, It sounded like a lightbulb exploding or dropping. I ignored it for a minute but then I heard gasps and screams. My aunt was crying. My cousin was screaming. And my brother ran. Knowing nothing, I followed them and what I saw was something truly frightening.

As I walked closer and closer, I saw blood dripping on the gaps of the floor. So much blood covered the bike under the floor. I vomited, the sight of it made my heart feel pain. Worse was that I know who lives on that floor. It was my uncle and instead of the sound of a lightbulb, it was the sound of a gunshot. I ran back to my house and sat down on the couch. I remembered the memories I have with him: my first bike he gave me, the day he gave me the wheel while he was driving that made me cry, his laughter, his joy, and everything. But the day when he visited me was the one that haunts me.

He was already facing something so difficult and I didn’t even talk to him. I was quiet and waited for him to leave that day and it gave me pain I had never felt before. I could’ve made a difference if I talked to him but I didn’t. I watched his blood drip on the ground.

I can still remember that event and I will never get over it. His son ran up to him and fell into his knees, tears started to fall from his eyes. The only thing I could do is mourn with him with the others. I saw the signs. I heard the noise. I felt the need… but I did not listen.

42 | Listen (While You Can)

His Canvas

by Anonymous

I admit—

I want to explore Pairs of beautifully carved plateaus

And underneath, a bundle of hills

All wet with salty rain

As paths converge to riches obscured

Like a geyser steaming up The scene with much passion Bursting in joyous amounts

Or a chasm, deep and narrow Offering many, when ventured Waves of excitement

Yes, I want to explore

My mind

My hands

My body, too

Is it too bad to appreciate art?

15 Minutes

by Kyle Matthew Lim

[Trigger warning: Sexual assault]

There are no stars in the night sky, a sleeping security guard just a few meters outside the door of my tiny apartment, and now all I do is turn on the screen of my computer, bracing myself for whatever school may bring tomorrow. I finish my paper for Science. I revise my draft for Pre-Calculus. I work my entire system off.

Through my watch, I keep track of time. It serves as a reminder on when to do this and when to do that. It helps me stay on top of everything going on with my life. Silent serendipity is all I can hear, all I can ask for, but not what I feel. There’s a man—six-feet tall, bearded, in a plain black shirt with basketball shorts. He would stare at me. “Ignore him,” I tell myself, as I polish the rest of my schoolwork.

Meanwhile, I look at my phone and the night is still young, more than enough time to finish all of my tasks. So, I take a break. I grab an entire of bittersweet Toblerone and sing to Sarah Geronimo’s rendition of Starting Over Again. I scroll through Facebook, read all about the latest trends, and realize that I have yet another project to accomplish. I thank Jesus that my classmate asked me about the essay we were tasked to

write, if not I would’ve completely forgotten.

My mind is sharp and my willpower is stronger than ever. A few minutes later, my focus transitions to the man in front of my doorstep. He is the same man from five minutes ago; he then looks at me, smiling. I go from Sarah Geronimo to “Sarah (sana) sinara ko yung pinto…” I’m with my older brother, who is also in shock to see a random stranger in our apartment. This man literally disregards my brother’s presence and focuses his eyes on me. I feel like boiling water to him as he just looks at me waiting for me to mouth words out. He greeted me with a mellifluous voice and asks me very personal questions.

I just play along with whatever antics he is up to. He sounds extremely nice, or probably extremely drunk. I am absolutely frightened, but I don’t show it. I am concerned, and I think he is aware of it. It’s funny how my mind is half-curious on where this bearded man is going with all of this baloney and another part of me wants to perfect that essay.

This is it: the moment that could change my life forever. He grabs something from the deep end of his pocket. My pupils dilate and the agony inside of me grows enormous. Let’s face it, I am not Cardo Dalisay in the same room as a million bad guys; I am a mouse in the same room as a cat.

All of this happened in 15 minutes. Time doesn’t really fly all the time, does it?

Upon getting ready for bed, I tell myself a secret, “I wish I had enough courage to tell someone what the man at my doorstep really got from his pocket.”

Masculinity

by Jaime Martin Arciaga

What is masculinity to you?

Is it being brawny? Is it being true? Is it not having the ability to weep? Or is it following old stereotypes like sheep?

Wake up! We’re in 2018

It’s not feeding your desires carnal

It’s not funny chancing a teen

It’s not cool feasting on a scandal

Nothing I loathe more than man, swimming in his libido, catcalling a lady. Blind to the difference between flirting and harassment, compliment and uncomfortable comments. Using excuses like “the woman is at fault for wearing such clothes.” That’s idiotic and ridiculous! Victim blaming. Instead of restricting women, let’s teach boys not to rape nor be stupid on the streets. Whoever you are, you should know how unwanted and uncomfortable it is to have a stranger look at your body in a squalid manner and tell you an unsettling comment about it.

If anyone insists that you’re more of a man if you do Then I diagnose them with stupidity… It’s true Don’t question others’ masculinity for being gentlemen

For not treating women as objects for pleasure

That outdated, false belief has no place in our generation

It brings women relief to find a man that has emotions

So the old foolish idea that real men don’t cry is a lie

Just as that women can’t be like men but they can try

It takes a stronger man to have been able to shed tears and a stronger man to choose not to step on a stray ant than to force oneself to veil sorrow out of fear and needlessly step on a stray ant out of ostentatious pride and pretentiousness.

BLUMENTRITT

Liham ni Kenneth Gabriel Opoc

Hawak ni Brie ang liham na padala ni Josh habang humihikbi sa kama niyang magulo gawa ng kalikutan sa pagpupumilit matulog para lang matigil ang pagluha niya. Paulit-ulit niyang binabasa ang nilalaman nito, iniisip na baka sakaling nagkamali lang siya ng basa, ngunit parehong salita pa rin ang nakikita ng kanyang mga mata.

Hindi na ‘to pwede matagal, Brie. Ayoko nang maging—

Naputol ang pagbabasa ni Brie nang may kumatok sa kanyang pinto. Dinig niya ang nagsasalitang boses mula sa labas. “Brie?” Hindi sumagot ang binata. Matapos ang ilang sandali’y bumukas ang pintong nakalimutan niyang ikandado.

Pinigilan ni Brie ang pag-iyak at lumingon sa kanyang ina.

“O! Bakit ka lumuluha? Makati na naman ba’ng mata mo?” Hindi umimik si Brie. Nagbuntong-hininga si Aling Corazon. Lumpait siya sa kanya at umupo sa sulok ng kama, katabi siya. “Sige na, anak. Ilabas mo na.” Tila namasa ang mata ng binata. Niyakap ni Brie nang mahigpit ang kanyang nanay at tuluyan itong humagulgol sa kanyang kanang balikat. Tinapik ni Aling Corazon ang likod ni Brie. “May umaway na

48 | Liham

naman ba sa’yo?”

Ang tanging naririnig ng dalawa sa kuwarto ay ang mga patak ng ulang tumatalsik sa bintana at ang pag-iyak ni Brie. “Ma, tanggap mo ba ako?” Ngumisi ang kanyang nanay sa tanong ng kanyang nag-iisang anak. “Bakit mo naman natanong ‘yan, anak?”

Biglang naalala ni Brie ang lahat ng pinagdaanan niya sa nakalipas. Tumakbo ulit sa isip niya ang linyang narinig niya mula sa coach ng volleyball team ng eskwelahan. “Kailangan namin ng mga talagang lalaki para lumakas opensa namin” Naaalala niya rin ang pagpili ng pangkat sa kanilang PeTa sa Araling Panlipunan kinabukasan. “Huwag natin ‘yan kunin sa grupo, ‘pre!. Manlalalaki lang ‘yan sa’yo!” Kahit tuwing tanghalian nila’y paulit-ulit na nagging batuhan ng insult ang pagkatao niya. “Yuck! Kalalaki mong tao, ganyan mga galawan mo!” “Iniiwasan ka nina Rique kasi hindi ka raw bagay dito.” “Siguro nag-aral siya sa all-boys schools para makakita ng mga nakahubad sa’tin.”

Hindi makaimik o makagalaw bilang sarili niya si Brie, pati sa mga kalsadang pinagbahayan na ng mga tsismosang madadaldal. Minsan, kapag naglalakad siya pauwi ay naririnig niya ang sigaw ng ilang tao na tila akala’y nasa kabilang bundok ang kausap. “Wala naming dulot ‘yang mga baklang ‘yan!” “Pabigat lang sila sa lipunan!” “Walang ginawang bakla ang Diyos Maykapal!” Pati ang mga batang naglalaro ng patintero sa bangketa ay nahahawa sa mga sinusulsol ng mga nakatatanda. “Hoy, supot! ‘Di ka mahal ng magulang mo kaya ka pinabayaan maging bakla!” Sabay tawa ng iba na tila ginagawang biro na lamang ang mga insultong mahirap sikmurain.

Bumalik si Brie sa piling ng kanyang ina. Hindi niya namalayan ang patuloy na pag-agos ng mga luha sa mukha niya. Binanggit muli ni Brie ang kanyang tanong habang nauutal sa pag-iyak niya.

“Ma, tanggap mo ba ako?”

Naiwan lamang ang ngisi ni Aling Corazon sa kanyang anak. “Brie, nanggaling ka sa’kin. Kahit kailan ay tanggap kita kasi anak kita. Kung sino ka man sa tingin mo, maging sino ka man sa tingin mo.” Napangiti si Brie sa sinabi ng kanyang ina. “Huwag mong isipin ang tingin ng iba sa’yo, kasi hindi nila alam kung sino ka. Oo nga, bakla ka, pero isang bahagi pa lang ‘yan ng buhay mo. Pabayaan mo na kung hindi nila makitang isa kang mabuting tao. Ika nga, ‘Ang aso tumatahol kapag hindi nila kilala yung tao’,” dagdag niya.

Sa kaginhawaang idinulot ng mga salita ni Aling Corazon ay hinigpitan pa ni Brie ang yakap niya sa kanyang nanay. “Mga sinungaling sila,” tugon ni Brie sa payo ng ina niya habang nauutal pa rin sa pagiyak niya. “Bakit naman?”

“Mahal pa rin ako ng magulang ko.”

Napangiti rin si Aling Corazon sa sinabi ng kanyang anak. “Mahal kita, anak.”

Nagyakapan ang mag-ina sa katahimikan ng paligid. Huminang ulan lang ang naririnig ng dalawa, hanggang sa makarinig sila ng isang malakas na timbre. Natigil ang paglalambingan ng mag-ina at tumungo si Brie sa pintuan sa sala. Huminga nang malalim si Brie at binuksan ang pinto.

Nanigas na lang ang binata sa gulat nang makita niya si Josh sa pintuan, basang-basa sa ulan, nakayakap sa sarili at nanginginig sa lamig. Nakabalot sa kanya ang malaking uniporme ng kanyang tatay; isang camouflage na hanggang pulso ang manggas. May suot siyang knapsack na nakasilong rin sa unipormeng nakapatong sa kanya. Pansing-pansin ni Brie ang tingin ni Josh sa kanyang mga namamasang mata. Kitang-kita niya ang mga pasa sa kanyang mukha—isa sa ilong, isa sa noo, at isa sa ilalim ng kaliwang mata.

“J-Josh?” Nauutal muli si Brie sa pagkaluha

50 | Liham

niya. Naririnig niya ang panginginig ni Josh sa gitna ng ulan. Napunta ang mata niya sa liham na pinadala niya sa kanya, na hawak-hawak niya sa pagkakataong ito. “B-B-Brie,” hindi makapagsalita nang maayos ang binata sa lamig na dala ng bugso ng ulan. “B-Bakit ka n-nandito?” Umagos na ang luha ni Brie ngunit hindi niya matukoy kung ito ba’y sa saya o lungkot.

Tuluyan nang umiyak si Josh sa harap ni Brie at niyakap siya nang mahigpit. “Sorry, hindi kita naipagtanggol sa kanila.” Binitawan niya ang liham na hawak niyang nabasa kay Josh at niyakap rin ang mahal niyang babad sa ulan.

Love Wins

Identity Crisis

Photo by Feliciano Rasheed Reyes

Essay by Aaron Avixyz Araza

Controversial House Bill No. 4982 and Senate Bill No. 1271, both commonly known the Sexual Orientation and Gender Identity Expression (SOGIE) Bill was not approved due to multiple reasons –including the contents that conflict with a number of similar rights, and is deemed not urgent by the President himself. Numerous stigmas and rumors also surround the bill, giving an unclear look on the socalled lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer (LGBTQ+) centric policies.

Exceptions

There are so many exceptions that are quite difficult to implement and at the same time aggravate the division among different sectors of society.

Paragraph D, Section 5 of the Senate Bill states that the requital of admission or expelling a person from any educational or training facility is prohibited except when the examination of academic qualification is duly upheld.

Contentious conforms released by the University of Santo Tomas banning LGBTQ+ relationships, stressed in their Policy Guidelines Section 1.1.x wherein engaging in relationship contrary to the principles adhered to by the University and the teachings of the Catholic Church, received backlashes in social media, deeming it as “un-Christian”. Despite this, sectarian schools have the exception to operate based on their faith and within the best interest of the students. However, certain situations make this rule absolute, disallowing religious expressions like a Catholic school may not be compelled to accept transgender students due to an avoidance of injury to religious sensitivities exception.

Class Legislation

Class legislation – a kind of law that only applies to certain persons or places to uplift them, is a suspected effect once SOGIE bill is observed.

Despite the purpose of the bill to protect the community, these are all iterations provided in other laws, and that it will only give the LGBT people “special” rights.

Acts of Discrimination

Supposedly, a man who identifies herself as a woman was referred to as “Sir” instead of “Miss” or “Madam” can actually be punishable by the SOGIE bill because it promotes stigma, or can be also considered as a verbal assault, depending on the addressed.

Stigma is subjectively defined in Paragraph F, Section 3 as the “dynamic devaluation and dehumanization of an individual in the eyes of others which may be based on attributes that are arbitrarily defined by others as discreditable”. Going back to case earlier, the addressed was judged on her physical appearance, thus assuming that she is a male by the addresser.

Violence was also part of the defined terms that were under SOGIE bill, however, it was not specified whether it is physical, mental, and/or emotional violence. The instance stated above can be considered either as mental violence due to the fact that she was not distinguishable enough as a third gender or as emotional violence as she was assaulted by not “being careful” with words.

The Stigma in SOGIE

Despite the numerous loopholes presented during the reading session, passing the 19-year-old bill is deemed by numerous groups as beneficial and important to the non-binary.

The most common myth in SOGIE is that it violates God’s commandment on marriage. The bill does not mandate the Church to implement same-sex marriage. Moreover, it does not amend the Family Code of the Philippines, which states that “marriage

is a special contract of permanent union of man and woman entered into in accordance with law for the establishment of conjugal and family life”.

In addition, the Senate Bill’s rendition of Paragraph G, Section 5 wherein it is punishable to deny an application for or revoke, on the basis of SOGIE, any government license, authority, clearance, permit, certification, or other similar documents necessary to exercise a profession, business, or any other legitimate calling, does not specify that it does not mandate samesex marriage.

A senator further supplemented the argument by posting on her social media account the incorrect contentious claims the bill proposes and debunking these allegations with what really consists of the proposal.

Another common stigma regarding the bill is the ability to accuse someone expressing their religious liberties, thus violating the rights of other people. Rep. Geraldine Roman, the first transgender woman elected to Congress, stressed SOGIE bill as a reason to let go of their religious beliefs. She said that even if the LGBT are “abominations in the eyes of the Lord”, and that nothing will penalize you for believing in whatever you believe in, but it does not make you able to stop us from our right to work, study, and receive services from the government.

The Biggest Step

Perhaps the reason the proposal is highly scrutinized and is difficult to pass as a law is that being a religious and conservative country, the Filipinos preserve traditions and rules. Our culture may have a general consensus as “tolerable” for the non-binary.

However, a study in 2018 by the Philippine Corporate SOGIE Diversity and Inclusiveness that out of the 100 companies surveyed, no Philippine-based company has ongoing policies regarding SOGIE-

based discrimination. Furthermore, more than half of the surveyed Philippine-based companies have no plans on making SOGIE-based anti-discrimination measures. The results also discovered that 25 percent of the respondents experienced harassment from superiors, 35 percent have experienced harassment from coworkers, and 60 percent have been the subject of slurs and ridicules.

Moreover, a study by the Human Rights Watch (2017) documents an array of discrimination cases against the LGBT community happening in school settings. 98 students, along with 46 parents, guidance counsellors, and teachers participated in the study. Key takeaways from this research is that there is a crisis, having an inconsistent and incomplete SOGIE implementation and a non-existent SOGIE education for the students.

Despite the Anti-Cyberbullying Act of 2013 and the other laws that are supposedly protecting them, there is still such a number of cases that are happening, making the general consensus of being “tolerable” as false.

Perhaps the biggest challenge for us Filipinos is to pass this kind of law. Considering this law may be used as protection and support in criminal cases, it is also overlapping multiple iterated laws regarding discrimination and work etiquette. This bill might be deemed as necessary due to the multiple researches conducted, however it will not be deemed as necessary if there is a full implementation of the pre-existing laws regarding human rights and anti-discrimination.

The country remains undecided on the matter. But whatever next step our lawmakers take should primarily consider championing justice for all. As the CBCP has proclaimed it, fairness must extend to all persons regardless of sexual orientation and gender identity. This is where the betterment of general society begins.

Nature

by Eathan Joseph Abastillas

Sometimes I stare at the sky and wonder why we have made such a mess of things, how we can tear up the seas and use up the trees all at the same time. But when we see the leaves moving or when we smell the freshness of spring, new hope will always come to us. Nature is truly a part of our lives. They die, we die. They live, we live.

Gamitin Ito at Huwag Magpatalo

ni Jericho Angelo Navarro

Baboy, taba, bola, batsa

Wala kang karapatan na sila ay saktan

Sa kanilang salita, huwag magpaapekto

Gamitin ito at huwag magpatalo

Lahat tayo ay may karapatang pantao

Ano man ang kasarian mo, hindi ka pwedeng

maabuso

Karapatan ay ang ating armas

Laban sa katiwalian na napakarahas

Bading, lambot, bakla

Panghuhusga na nakasisira ng kumpiyansa

Itigil mo at sa kapwa’y rumespeto

Gamitin ito at huwag magpatalo

Inutil, timang, shunga, mangmang

Kapabilidad nila ay huwag mong maliitin

Sapagkat nasasaktan mo ang kanilang damdamin

Tumulong ka, ito ang iyong gawin

Sari-sariling kahinaan at kalakasan, Lahat tayo ay mayroong hangganan

Sa isa’t isa ay rumespeto

Gamitin ang karapatan at huwag magpatalo

58 | Gamitin Ito at Huwag Magpatalo

Duty Calls

by Liam Eiver Isaac O’Toole

I hope you’re alright And praying really hard for me

Every day I go out to fight So I can help people out there I give them impermanent supplies And listen to the stories they share

It all will end soon

I know it has to be My words are few Because duty calls anew to me

I hope you remember all of us

Those who went the extra mile

Those who did their best to serve with a smile

Those who laid their lives on the line

‘Di Naman Ako Adik Sir ni Feliciano Rasheed Reyes

60 | 'Di Naman Ako Adik Sir

Realidad sa Siyudad

ni Feliciano Rasheed Reyes

Huni ng ibon at ihip ng hangin ang maririnig sa pagkalupaypay ko, at paghampas na lamang ng bagyo ang pupuwedeng mag-ingay

‘Yan sana ang buhay kong haharapin

Ngunit sa pagkamulat ng bulag Ang kalagayan ko ay malayo na sa hinahangad

Sa pagtaas ng mga gusali

Ay siya namang pagtaas ng mga ihi Ng mga tao sa siyudad na ang gusto lamang ay manatili

sa tuktok. Wala na ring kalayaan sa pagpili ng kahit ano, sapagkat ang mga nasa taas lamang ang magsasabi

At sa pagsapit ng gabi, alam kong ‘di na ko ligtas

Lahat isinantabi, wala na ring batas-batas

Sapat na ang mga hinala, wala ng bisa ang ebidensya

At kahit inosente ay ‘di na nalalayo sa disgrasya

Sunog na ang balat ng tatay ko sa pagtatrabaho

Bente kwatro oras para lamang sa ilang piso

Gabi nang naghihintay sa tapat ng mesa naming kuwadrado

Huli nang malaman kong may butas na ang kanyang ulo

62 | Realidad sa Siyudad

Recto

by Jason Sigales

[Disclaimer: Recto is a one-act musical play using songs from other artists without the intention of infringing copyright. Readers must consume the material as in Because the Internet by Childish Gambino, reading the script with the music at the given cues to complement it.]

Friday night crowds flood Recto station. Ads echo on the platform and meld with the commuters’ chatter to make a melody.

Arriving at Recto station…

The train enters the scene then leaves, revealing its interior. Spotlight on three passengers: MIGZ, 19, redeyed and reeking of liquor, NICO, 41, hands dusty and head against the glass, and LEAH, 33, rocking back and forth.

Lights flicker. We hear the wheels screech as they come to a halt.

ANNOUNCER

Dear passengers, we have a mechanical dysfunction. We are currently attempting to handle the situation. We

BLUMENTRITT

apologize for the inconvenience. Thank you.

Frustration on their faces.

[Play My Old Friend by Unique Salonga here]

Rewind. We are taken to two hours prior, to the home of Migz’ classmate.

MIGZ’ CLASSMATE (sung)

“My old friend, follow me I’ll bring back the memories We knew some things, we made it bright We sang a song, we saved the night…”

The lights dim. Spotlight on Migz and his friend.

MIGZ’ CLASSMATE (cont’d, sung)

“My old friend, they said to me The world is full of opportunity…”

They pull out two bottles of brandy and begin pouring in their cups.

MIGZ’ CLASSMATE (cont’d sung)

“You said you wanted us to fly But now we failed and so we cry…”

Beside them, we see a scene in Migz’ house.

MIGZ’ CLASSMATE (cont’d sung)

“The situation brings no laughter…”

His father comes in, screaming at his wife.

MIGZ’ CLASSMATE (cont’d, sung)

“Our home is a disaster…”

He grabs her. She attempts to break free from his grasp, but he tightens his grip then slaps her twice.

MIGZ’ CLASSMATE (cont’d, sung)

“It’s hard to clear up misunderstandings…”

He drags her offstage.

MIGZ (cont’d, sung)

“My old friend, pardon me ‘Cause I am tired of what I see Love them all, be the light I have to go, save the night…”

They take their drinks. Spotlight only on Migz.

MIGZ (cont’d, sung)

“Love them all, be the light I have to go, save the night.”

[My Old Friend stops here]

Friday night crowds flood Recto station. Ads echo on the platform and meld with the commuters’ chatter to make a melody.

Arriving at Recto station…

The train enters the scene then leaves, revealing its interior. Spotlight on three passengers: MIGZ, 19, redeyed and reeking of liquor, NICO, 41, hands dusty and head against the glass, and LEAH, 33, rocking back and forth.

Lights flicker. We hear the wheels screech as they come to a halt.

BLUMENTRITT

ANNOUNCER

Dear passengers, we have a mechanical dysfunction. We are currently attempting to handle the situation. We apologize for the inconvenience. Thank you.

Frustration on their faces.

[Play Cha-Ching! by Unique Salonga here]

Rewind. We are taken to twelve hours prior, to the demolition site where Nico works. They line up in the morning to punch in, then begin pulverizing the building along the beat.

WORKERS

(sung)

“Dirty state of mind

So rapid oh, he’s running out of time

They’ll treat you like a friend to make dreams come true

And now they gonna make you feel the blues…”

A man in a suit enters the scene and watches over them.

WORKERS

(sung)

“Dirty state of mind

So rapid oh, he’s running out of time

They’ll treat you like a friend to make dreams come true

And now they gonna make you feel the blues…”

They just keep on minding their business, until…

[“Ooh, ooh, ah, ah…”]

They freeze. The light turns blue.

NICO (sung)

“Oh my God…”

The lights flickers as they continue to crush the concrete. One by one, they let go of their sledgehammers and crawl to the man in the suit. Then, Nico stands. Spotlight on him.

NICO (cont’d, sung)

“Oh my God.”

[Cha-Ching! ends here]

Friday night crowds flood Recto station. Ads echo on the platform and meld with the commuters’ chatter to make a melody.

Arriving at Recto station…

The train enters the scene then leaves, revealing its interior. Spotlight on three passengers: MIGZ, 19, redeyed and reeking of liquor, NICO, 41, hands dusty and head against the glass, and LEAH, 33, rocking back and forth.

Lights flicker. We hear the wheels screech as they come to a halt.

ANNOUNCER

Dear passengers, we have a mechanical dysfunction. We are currently attempting to handle the situation. We apologize for the inconvenience. Thank you.

Frustration on their faces.

[Play We Know by Unique Salonga starting at 0:27 here]

Rewind. We are taken to five hours prior, to the streets of Manila. Leah sweeps the floors of a

bakeshop.

[“Do something Wash your sins…”]

The owner comes with news. Head held low, she takes off her uniform and hands it over.

[“Come clean So you’ll become atoned…”]

Beside them, we see her with her young sons. She feeds them a bowl of porridge. Only candles light their faces.

[“Yes, It might be true Yes

Maybe you’re right Yes

We know there’s something wrong…”]

Suddenly, a man is shown in the light, offering her money. But not without a cost.

MAN (sung)

“I could treat you But where’s my money Don’t take what’s mine…”

Another comes up to her.

MAN 2 (sung)

“I could treat you But where’s my money

Please don’t waste my time…”

The lights turn red. Their skins touch. Their arms reach the skies. Their heads to the clouds. Their lips on her neck. It’s a dance.

[We Know ends at 5:00 here]

Friday night crowds flood Recto station. Ads echo on the platform and meld with the commuters’ chatter to make a melody.

Arriving at Recto station…

The train enters the scene then leaves, revealing its interior. Spotlight on three passengers: MIGZ, 19, redeyed and reeking of liquor, NICO, 41, hands dusty and head against the glass, and LEAH, 33, rocking back and forth.

Lights flicker. We hear the wheels screech as they come to a halt.

ANNOUNCER

Dear passengers, we have a mechanical dysfunction. We are currently attempting to handle the situation. We apologize for the inconvenience. Thank you.

Frustration on their faces.

A few seconds later…

You can hear the AC turn back on. The lights return. The train moves forward. And their stories continue...

The Official Student Publication of Aquinas School

Editorial Board

AY 2019 - 2020

Editor-in-Chief

Jason Sigales

Associate Editors

Gian Marquez

Aaron Araza

Jeth Del Rosario

Staffers

Shun Adanza

Enrico Estrella III

John Paul Javier

Photographers

André Abad

Jethro Lagmay

Vincent Varlez with contributor

Ian Bulaun

Cartoonists

Jan Asis

Gerard Peña

Sean Rodriguez

Jan Vince Sadang

Layout Artist

Jason Sigales

Adviser

Ms. Giselle Posadas

Consultants

Mr. Christian Jeff Cariaga

Mr. Mark Dinlasan

Directress/Principal

Sr. Rosalinda Calong, OP

“Bellowing the Truth to the Ends of the Earth”