Malate Literary Folio Tomo XXXVI Special Issue Bilang 1: Lockdown Folio

MALATE LITERARY FOLIO Tomo XXXVI Special Issue Bilang 1 Karapatang-ari Š 2019 ng Malate Literary Folio ang A opisyal na publikasyon ng sining at panitikan ng Pamantasang De La

Salle - Manila, sa ilalim ng awtoridad ng Student Media Office (SMO).

Ang mga komento at mungkahi ay maaaring ipahatid sa: E-mail address: mlf@dlsu.edu.ph Website: issuu.com/malatelitfolio Facebook: fb.com/malateliteraryfolio Twitter: @malatelitfolio 503-Media House, Bro. Connon Hall De La Salle University-Manila, 2401 Taft Avenue, Malate, Manila Nananatili sa indibidwal na may-akda o may-dibuho ang karapatang-ari ng bawat piyesang ipinalimbag dito. Hindi maaaring ipalathala muli o gamitin sa anumang paraan ang alin man sa mga nilalaman nang walang karampatang pahintulot ng may-akda o may-dibuho Ang tomong ito ay hindi ipinagbibili.

Ang pabalat ng folio na ito ay kolaborasyon sa pamamagitan ng mga miyembro ng Malate Literary Folio Ang disenyo ng folio na ito ay likha ni Adia Pauline Lim,

Introduksiyon

In moments where we have more time than we can fill, we turn to art as a way of coping. To create or to participate. To put one’s soul into words or find a reflection of it in images.

In art, the specific and the universal meet halfway. The artist’s reality is reflected in their art, and the audience connects with what is familiar and gets to glimpse into what was once unknown.

In these trying times, the people have no other choice but to try and fill the time. The people can only sit and watch and stew in their own frustrations. The people are unable to mobilize, so the people create and consume. The people are unable to leave their homes, so they find a way to make their voices heard from within.

In this issue of Malate Literary Folio, specific realities meet a universal theme. We invite readers to connect to the familiar, and glimpse into the unseen.

PAULA BIANCA MARAÑA Punong Patnugot (OIC)

PATNUGUTAN Paula Bianca Maraña Punong Patnugot (OIC) Querix Keershyne Recalde Tagapamahalang Patnugot Francis D’Angelo Mina Patnugot ng Prosa Christine Autor Patnugot ng Tula Cielo Marie Vicencio Patnugot ng Sining Kyle Noel Ibarra Patnugot ng Retrato Chaunne-Ira Masongsong Tagapamahala ng Marketing at Events Van Rien Jude Espiritu Tagapamahala ng Pagmamay-ari Adia Pauline Lim Tagapamahala ng Layout

MGA SENYOR NA PATNUGOT Maria Gabrielle Galang Philippe Bernard Cabal Cheyenne Grace Espiritu Ninian Patrick Sayoc Bea Triñanes

STUDENT MEDIA OFFICE

Armando Miguel Valdes

Franz Louise Santos Director

MGA TAGAPAYO

Jeanne Marie Tan Coordinator

Dr. Mesandel Arguelles Mr. Vijae Alquisola

Ma. Manuela Agdeppa Secretary

MGA KASAPI Prosa

Mary Joy Abalos Daniel Ricardo Evangelista Jihan Marie Ferrer Cathleen Jane Madrid Cris Marriel Nabayo Guion Lorenzo Castro

Tula

Claire Madison Chua Adrian Neil Holgado Christian Paculanan Vince Gerard Victoria

Marketing & Events

Elijah Barongan Jan Magcaling Arvir Jane Redondo Bela Tuason Dominique Yap

Sining

Neidine Alcantara Francesca Baltasar Pablo Mulawin Casanova Matthew Rafael Florendo Kathleen Nicole Garay Phoebe Danielle Joco Jamie Shekinah Mapa Thea Enrica Ongchua Bea Mira So Dana Beatrice Tan

Retrato

Isabella Alexandra Bernal Alexander Flores Benedict Lim Nigelle Lim Sean Xavier Nieva Brandon Kyle Pecson Raymund John II Sarmiento

SINING

TULA

PROSA

DAY: 60

DAY: 13

Mary Joy Abalos

Sean Xavier Nieva

Mary Joy Abalos

DAY: 420

DAY: 14

DAY: 23

Bottled Deliriums

Make Way

DAY: 6

DAY: 4

RETRATO

The Red Tag

State of the Nation

Habulan

Cielo Marie Vicencio

Matthew Florendo

DAY: 77 Blessing

Jihan Marie Claire Ferrer

Vince Gerard Victoria

Deflating Headspace

DAY: ??

DAY: 35

The Day I Stopped Counting Christian Paculanan

DAY: 36

DAY: 21

Dahlia Delacion

Pablo Mulawin Casanova

Online

DAY: 34 Handle with Care Dana Beatrice Tan

DAY: ???

A Loop of Suspended Life

Francesca Baltasar

Off the Clock

DAY: 10

Hapag Kainan

Cris Marriel Nabayo

Adia Pauline Lim

Pampalipas-oras Benedict Lim

DAY: 11 Trigger Discipline Daniel Ricardo Evangelista

Frontliner’s Lullaby

MGA NILALAMAN NG MGA ARAW SA ISANG BUWAN

...

BOTTLED DELIRIUMS Matthew Florendo DAY: 420

A Loop of Suspended Life Francesca Baltasar

DAY: ???

THE DAY I STOPPED COUNTING Christian Paculanan

enclosed space where freedom is merely a word or perhaps an illusion i don’t know anymore, it’s been too long uneaten stale cheese and day old bread i should throw it away or not, it took me three hours to get those anyway and the news (oh news) there’s nothing new, but the same old faces of those who trapped me here yet I ask myself: when will I be free? will this be contained or will we be contained? a few questions I dare not speak aloud the cheese and the bread too less for one, too much for the less privilege rots it sooner than expected and the news (which i still listen to) draws blood without any wounds the virus is deadly, yes but I fear it’s not the one that will kill me enclosed in this space, these i ponder how was life different before this? how i wonder

DAY: ??

#OUSTDUTERTE

Deflating Headspace Adia Pauline Lim DAY: 23

THE

OFF CLOCK Mary Joy Abalos

3:00 PM: I no longer feel as though I am waking up. Every time I open my eyes, I am more tired than ever, and my view is always the same; a white wall staring back at me; crooked, unpolished, abandoned, and it is what it greets me every single day. I’m starting to think this wall and I are the same. Nevertheless, I do not greet back, I close my eyes again; close it hard enough, hoping all of this is a dream. It is not; I am wide awake.

4:00PM: My mother peeks through the curtain above my bed; a makeshift door; an attempt to provide me with privacy as I adjust to life back at home. She asks me when I’m going to eat. I don’t answer. Instead, I scroll through my phone; reading social media posts I have missed while I was asleep in the morning. She closes the curtain, knowing the answer.

4:30PM: I drag myself out of bed, and tell my mother I am ready to eat. She brings out the rice; it has gone cold. She brings out the Tupperware; ham and fried tofu. I am excited. The table remains unclean, as traces of spilt soup line the edge of the table. I make no attempt to clean it, and neither does my mother. I finish my meal in 10 minutes. It is satisfying. I drag myself out of the chair, leaving my plate on the table; my mother tells me to wash it; I tell her no. She doesn’t try to convince me again.

DAY: 13

5:30PM: I return to bed, feeling the cushion enclose itself around my body; a suffocating embrace. The heat enters my body, and it is violating.

6:00PM: The sun has begun to set, and I am thankful because I no longer have to suffer through this heat. I decide to shower. It is my favorite part of the day. My house has no air conditioning, and because it is summer, the only way to cool off is to take a shower. I stay there for 20 minutes. I scrub off every last inch of sweat and grime from lying in bed, to no avail. I know by the time I get out I will be drenched in sweat again. I ignore this thought. Instead, I take the pail and wash myself with cold water again and again hoping I stay cool enough to last me through the night. I never do.

6:20PM: I go back to bed. I lie there, with two choices in mind: 1) Go to work; or 2) Play. Option 2 always wins. I open my laptop; the one I’ve had since 2012. It is run down, broken, barely keeping itself together. I could never bring myself to throw it away. How could I, when it was the only thing that I could rely on? I open my social media account. It is filled with unread messages from group chats I have muted. I open them one by one. Memes, thoughts of concern, more memes, angry messages towards the government and the school, more school work being assigned at the last minute. It is nothing I haven’t seen.

8:00PM: As I lay in bed, a familiar burn crawls beneath the skin of my face. It is threatening to escape. I fumble, fearing a battle within me will ensue. I try to keep everything in line, but I am only as strong as my will. I break open, as tears stream past my cheeks down to the corners of my lips. I register it a second too late, and I am met with a crushing onslaught of thoughts I have fought to ignore since this began. I stop fighting. It is an invasion I welcome; an intruder I anticipate as the night falls deeper. I don’t understand how my defenses break down every time.

DAY: 13

11:00PM: I decide to distract myself with a familiar TV show. How I Met Your Mother.

It is safe, it is calm. The sound of my phone drives my attention somewhere else. I check my notifications. I am showered with words of encouragement and love. I hold my phone close to my chest, as if it were a real person. I bring myself to believe it is a real person.

I haven’t hugged one in so long, my hands have become stiff. I crack it just so it stops feeling numb.

1:00AM: Everyone I talk to has gone to sleep. I entertain the thought that maybe I should too. I don’t attempt to close the lights, because my body will not recognize that it is night time. I stay awake for as long as I could. My eyes are heavy and my body yearns for sleep.

It doesn’t come.

3:30AM: The lights are too hot, and I am beginning to sweat. I turn them off. It is too dark. There are no windows. I begin to fear for my life. I try to ignore it, but every now and then, I gaze at the edge of my bed, waiting for something. I cannot sleep. I turn on the flashlight from my phone, hoping to ease my fear. It does, but not for long. I watch Kurtis Connor’s videos to distract myself.

5:30AM: The sun is beginning to rise. I know because there is a tiny window, resembling one of a prison cell’s. I ignore the uncanny resemblance. My eyes begin to feel heavy, and my body has registered that it needs sleep. I start to believe I am free, but only for a few hours, until I have to wake up again. I wonder when that will be.

DAY: 13

Pampalipas-oras Benedict Lim

DAY: 35

HAPAG KAINAN Cris Marriel Nabayo

Sa pagmulat ng aking mga mata, nasilawan ako sa sinag ng araw. Pinakiramdaman

ko yung init na ‘to. Napatulala at tila lutang sa kawalan ng ingay. Tiningnan ko yung alarm clock, 8:00 am. Maaga pa pala pero parang tanghali na. Napakamot lang ako sa ulo at napabuntong ng hininga dahil gusto ko pa sanang matulog. Kaso ito, nagising na naman ako nang maaga. Siguro ganoon talaga, nawawalan ka na ng malay sa oras; hindi mo na mawari ang umaga sa hapon, at hapon sa gabi. Higit pa riyan, wala naman kasing ipinagkaiba ang araw na ‘to. Parehong kuwarto, parehong kama, parehong yamot na nadarama, at ang natatanging mundo na kinagagalawan ko. Kahit ilang beses pa akong luminga-linga sa kuwartong ito, ganun pa rin naman ang katotohanang patuloy na hahampas sa akin—mag-isa lang ako.

DAY: 10

Kaya ito. Gigising ako at babangon sa kama. Mag-aayos ng pinaghigaan. Magwawalis sa mga kasulok-sulukan ng kuwarto. Paikot-ikot kong hahanapin ang dumi at alikabok. Paulit-ulit kong bubuksan ang pridyider para maghanap ng makakain—kahit na katitingin ko lang ulit dito. Bubuklatin ko yung mga librong nakatago sa aking aparador. Magbabasa ng ilan, pero hindi rin magtatagal sa inip. Pagmamasdan ko ang oras, aabangan ang bawat paggalaw ng kamay sa relos. Mapapagulong-gulong muna sa kama bago mapatigil at tumingala sa kisame. Kung sadyang ‘di makatiis, bubuksan ko ang akin laptop. Maghahanap ng mapapanood, minsan Kdrama, minsan anime, o kung ano mang pelikula o teleserye, pero lahat naman hindi ko natatapos. Bihira kong matapos dahil nawawalan din ako ng ganang manood hanggang sa huli. Minsan mag-aabang ako sa mga inuulat na balita o magbabasa ng mga memes sa Facebook.

Lahat ng ito ginagawa ko, kung wala namang pinagagawa yung mga prof ko. Pero ngayon lang ako nairita at nainip nang ganito sa buong buhay ko. Sa paghahanap ko ng gagawin, pati iyon, pinagsasawaan ko na rin. Nakakawalang gana. Nakakatamad na parang gusto ko na lang magpalutang-lutang na parang ulap. Baka gugustuhin ko pang maging halaman na hahaplusin lang ng ihip ng hangin, o tulad siguro ng mga alon na humahampas sa mga bato-bato. Tiningnan ko ulit yung telepono ko, 5:00pm.

Dumaan na naman ang oras ko at matatapos na naman yung araw na ‘to nang walang pagbabago.

Sa ilang linggo na nakalipas sa lockdown o quarantine na ipinatupad ng pamahalaan, sa palagay ko parang kinakain lang ng oras yung buhay ko. Wala na ba akong silbi?

Wala ba akong maaambag na tulong? Kulang yung pera ko pang-donasyon, sakto

DAY: 10

lang para makaraos. Hindi rin nga naman ako puwede lumabas-labas. Gusto ko rin sana makatulong, pero paano?

Bumangon na ako at naghain. Naghanda at nagluto ng pang-hapunan. Habang hinihintay ko na maluto yung kanin, pumunta muna ako sa balkonahe ng apartment.

Tiningnan ko ang mga kalyeng maaliwalas. Tinitigan ko ang mga gusali na dati-rati punong-puno ng mga kumikislap na ilaw, pero ngayon kitang-kita na nabawasan na ito. Nakapatay rin yung ilaw sa ibang unit na nakikita ko. Siguro mga nakauwi na sa probinsiya, nasa piling ng pamilya o baka natutulog o itutulog na lang ang realidad.

Napatingala na lang ako at pinagmasdan yung mga bituin. Ayos pala yung stargazing.

Nakakapagpagaan ng loob kahit na nakalulungkot yung mga pangyayari.

Pumasok ako ulit sa loob. Sumandok ng kanin at kumuha ng ilang piraso ng hotdog.

Naglabas ng isang baso ng tubig at bumalik sa balkonahe. “Cheers! May bukas pa di ba?” para tuloy akong lasing. Naghahanap ng panandaliang saya sa problema.

“Siraulo ka ba?” sagot ng tila boses ng babae. Nakarinig ako ng paghikbi. Napalingon-lingon ako. Tiningnan ko yung baso ko, tubig naman yung ininom ko ‘di ba?

“Walang’ya. Nasisiraan na ata ako ng bait.” Uminom ako muli sa baso. “Baliw, nandito kasi ako sa kabilang balkonahe. Sa kanan!” Nasamid ako sa narinig ko. “Ayos ka lang?

Huy!” Dumungaw siya sa balkonahe at sinubukang sumilip. Mahaba ang buhok niya at bilog ang mukha. Pero magang-maga ang mga mata at sumisinghot-singhot pa ng uhog.

Kinusot ko yung mga mata ko, “May tao pa pala?” pagbibiro ko.

DAY: 10

“Ano ba? Siyempre, meron. Hindi naman lahat nakauwi, tulad mo rin.” Nagkaroon ng katahimikan bago ako napangisi at natawa. “Anong nakakatawa sa sinabi ko?” Tanong niya. Umiling-iling ako, “Hindi ako nakauwi dahil hindi ko naman ginustong umuwi. Magkaiba tayo ng sitwasyon.” Hindi talaga ako palakuwento sa ibang tao.

Sumubo muna ako. Wala akong planong umuwi kahit matapos pa ‘tong lockdown.

“May gana ka pa talagang matawa. Samantalang ako, mga katulad ko gustong umuwi pero hindi naman makauwi. Gustong makakain, pero gutom na gutom. Tulog na lang nang tulog para makaraos. Tapos—” bigla na lang lumakas ang boses niya at napaiyak. Hindi ko alam ang gagawin ko pero pumasok ako sa loob at kumuha ng isa pang baso ng tubig saka ko ito inabot sa kanya. “Uminom ka na muna. Hindi ko naman sinasadya. Bakit ka ba hindi nakauwi?”

Kinuha niya yung baso. Buti na lang pala hindi ganoon kalayo yung agwat ng mga balkonahe. Nang nakainom na siya, inabutan ko siya ng bimpo mula sa mga sinampay ko. “Salamat,” at saka siya suminga, “hindi ko naman alam na tatagal pala ng isang buwan. Tapos hindi rin ako nakaabot ng biyahe pauwi sa amin sa probinsiya.

Nakapagpadala naman sila paubos na talaga. Hindi rin sapat yung mga nabili kong pagkain, kaya ito mga dalawang araw na akong gutom. Tapos wala pa akong mahingian ng tulong kasi ang lalayo ng mga kakilala ko. Madalang pa ako nakakatawag sa pamilya ko. Sa sobrang lungkot ko, nagkulong lang ako sa loob. Paiyak-iyak, nababaliw at nauubusan ng pasensya—” naputulan na naman siya sa pagkukuwento dahil hindi niya mapigilan ang pag-iyak. Unang beses ko pa lang naranasan na makasaksi ng ganitong pangyayari. Awang-awa ako sa kanya. Siraulo nga talaga ako, sino

DAY: 10

ba naman ang may oras para tumingala sa mga bituin at maghanap ng pag-asa, kung maraming katulad niya ang nakatungo, mag-isa, nakalulong sa kaiisip ng pamparaos sa araw na ‘to. Panigurado, hindi siya nag-iisa. Ano bang pwede kong gawin? Sa kaiisip, nginuya-nguya ko yung pagkain ko hanggang sa nakaisip ako ng paraan.

“Ahem, ano ngang pangalan mo?” pagtatanong ko habang papasok ako ulit sa loob ng apartment. Sinundan niya ako ng tingin, “Cely. Bakit anong gagawin mo? Teka ibabalik ko yung baso mo.” Habang binabalik niya yung baso, lumabas ako nang may dalang pitsel ng tubig, isang mangkok na may kanin at pinagpira-pirasong hotdog.

Naglabas ako ng dalawang upuan, isa na mapaglalagyan ng pagkain at isa na uupuan ko. Kinuha ko yung pitsel at dinagdagan ng tubig yung baso niya. “Cely, hindi natin alam kung hanggang kailan yung quarantine, pero kung gusto mo sabay tayo kumain?

Ayan o, hapag-kainan!” alok ko sa kaniya. Nakita ko yung reaksyon sa mukha niya.

Gulat na gulat at agad niyang pinunas muli ang mukha.

“Sigurado ka ba? ‘Di mo naman ako kilala!” tumalikod siya at uminom ng tubig.

Umupo lang ako at sumubo ulit ng kanin. “Alam mo, hindi naman kailangan ng identification sa pagtulong. Basta ang sa akin lang ha, mag-isa lang ako, may mga pagkain pa ako diyan. Pwede kitang tulungan. Kailangan mo ng tulong, kailangan mo makaraos! May pamilya ka pang uuwian ‘di ba? Kunin mo na to!” Binigay ko sa kanya yung mangkok at kutsara.

“Teka lang! Anong pangalan mo?” tumalikod na siya at kinuha yung mangkok at kutsara. Agad siyang sumubo sabay uminom ng tubig. “Marvin. Pagpasensyahan mo

DAY: 10

na yung luto ko. Tiis-tiis na muna.” Binaba ni Cely yung mga hawak niya. Pumasok siya sa loob ng apartment niya, kumuha ng alcohol at pinahid sa mga kamay niya.

Inabot niya yung kamay niya sa akin, “Salamat.” Makikipagkamay na sana ako pero maglagay raw muna ako ng alcohol. Sabay kami kumain ni Cely at magdamag nagkuwentugan. Sa napasarap na pakikipagkuwentuhan, siguro naging dahilan ‘to kinalaunan para makatulog kami pareho sa sari-sarili naming balkonahe. Walang kaming katiyakan sa kinabukasan, pero siguro kung may kasama ka sa ganitong oras ng pangangailangan, baka sakaling malutasan.

DAY: 10

Blessing

Jihan Marie Claire Ferrer

Habulan

Sean Xavier Nieva DAY: 60

ONLINE

Dahlia Delacion

https://online.com/Chrome

https://online.com/Okay

https://online.com/Yes, Please

https://online.com/Parallels

Daniel Ricardo Evangelista

The world’s on fire.

The world’s on fire and my dad hands me a gun.

It’s the ten-round Glock he always keeps in his suitcase. It’s always there, tucked away under piles of haphazardly-arranged documents that were already beginning to show those ugly yellow stains that I always hated. I know it because I’ve seen it more times than I could possibly count. I know it because I was 13 when he taught me how to load a gun and we started small; handguns were designed to be used with ease, a firearm meant for a civilian whenever you needed something to make sure that whatever decides to go bump in the night within 5-meters of your safe space hits the floor with a hard thud like a pine tree falling over after being bisected with an ax. It was the first gun I had ever loaded by myself, and it’s a feeling that sticks with you long after your father starts trusting to you load longarm pieces like shotguns and rifles on your own without worrying about whether or not you’ll accidentally blow a hole in the ceiling while he’s downstairs reading a newspaper.

He had handed this gun to me more times than I could possibly count. I had held it twice over. But this time, it weighed a lot heavier than it used to.

I’m 19 now and my brother is out of the house, gone away for the quarantine to accompany his wife and live with his in-laws. I’m now one of the people in the family that he trusts to be the rock while he’s away, the rock upon which they sleep upon during the long hours of the night that the boogymen choose to go bump in the night. Handing me that gun was handing me responsibility; it was handing me a portion of the weight of the expectations that sits upon his shoulders as the father of a family of 4 (or 5 if you count my sisterin-law). It’s a decidedly old-fashioned view, but he’s a decidedly old-fashioned man, and we live in an environment that still sticks to the old-fashioned views that some people have moved away from. Besides, this was a responsibility that we willingly accepted; not once did he ever force us to like the same hobbies that he did (guns, knives, maybe martial arts, too), but we followed anyway, a desire to imitate born out of sheer admiration for a man we looked up to. I used to hide behind my brother, watching intently as the responsibility, taking the shape of a 10-round, 9mm handgun, was handed to him.

Now, I have no one to hide behind.

The Red Tag Cielo Marie Vicencio

DAY: 6

STATE OF THE NATION Mary Joy Abalos

Huwag kayong matakot, huwag kayong manerbiyos pero wala pang sabi ko mga antidote nito. It would only come in a form of a vaccine. Kagaya ng kagatin kayo ng aso tapos there is the --- ang tawag nila rabis or rabies, if you may, pang-away. Sarili rin niyang ano.

It’s a form of germs i-mutate lang to fight , to warn our bodies, magbigay ng signal sa katawan natin na merong mga germs na pumapasok sa katawan mo, and the only way to fight it is to ‘yung mga sundalo na ang tawag nila antibodies, ‘yung pang-away mo sa mga madudumi, mga kagaw, germs, sila ‘yung ma-alert at sila ‘yung papatay ng virus.

But until now, wala pa ho ‘yan. So, nandiyan na ‘yan. It’s a serious one. It is true. Huwag ninyong maliitin. Do not minimize it, I said, but do not kill yourself with worry because government is doing everything possible to make it at least controllable, but kung kayo po ay mag-cooperate.

‘Pag hindi kayo nag- cooperate, ah the problem would start and it would start with you and end with you pagka ganun. So ‘yung mga sinasabi na social distancing, sundin lang po ninyo. At ‘yung mga ibinibigay na well ahead ng Department of Health, sundin ho ninyo kung anong sinasabi ng mga doktor kasi sila po ang marunong niyan.

From the Public Address of President Rodrigo Duterte on the Coronavirus Disease 2019 (COVID-19) last March 12, 2020

DAY: 4

Make Way Vince Gerard Victoria

A familiar companion reached into my chest I have been waiting for this Appearance for the year Common symptoms include Shortness of breath, Coughing, Chest pains, And a wheeze that sounds sinister Under normal circumstances, Which, we are not, I would have gone to the hospital.

For now, I must suffer alone.

There are those that demand treatment Despite not needing it.

There are those that waste resources For frivolous things.

I am in need of aid, But there are others That need it more I can manage.

Theirs is a malady that can affect more; Mine is just a curse that affects me.

My suffering, I grew up with Their illness, something emergent Under normal circumstances, Which, we are not, An early doctor’s appointment is needed.

For now, we must make way.

Handle with Care

Dana Beatrice Tan

FRONTLINER’S LULLABY Pablo Mulawin Casanova Hmm Dark times seem so long Living through them seems so calm Yet, all hope seems so far off But, here, we are, wander-ing Still we fall Still we fight Still we make light of every-thing Here we fall Here we fight Every day and every night We are here We are fighting We will make it We will beat it We will make it We will make it We will make it We will (oooh)

DAY: 21