Dancing Lights

Sa araw ng operasyon, magkikita ang pasyente (32 taong gulang na babae, 375 sa kanan at 350 sa kaliwa ang grado ng mata, + 100 grade astigmatism) at ang kaniyang opthalmoglogist na itago na lamang natin sa pangalang Doc X (42 taong gulang, Ingleserong hindi makapag-Ingles ng diretso, nagki-klinika at taga-pangulo sa isang tanyag na ospital sa Maynila, at nag-train pa sa Estados Unidos para sa pagle-laser surgery). Alas-10 ng umaga ang usapan.

May tatlong uri ng laser surgery. Ang una ay PRK, kung saan kakaskasin ang cornea, patatamaan ng laser ang iyong mata at hahayaang maghilom ang sinirang cornea ng ilang lingo, malinaw na ang mata pagkatapos gumaling ng cornea. Ang pangalawa ay Lasik Surgery, hihiwain ang iyong cornea, patatamaan ng laser ang mata, at ibabalik ang hiniwang cornea, kinabukasan ay makakakita ka na, at ang pangatlo ay Lasek na hindi ko alam ang kaibhan sa Lasik dahil pareho lamang ang proseso. Baka mas mahal. Ngayong araw, Lasik Surgery ang value meal for the day. Hindi pa ako kahit kailan na-operahan, major or minor man. Medyo kabado ako. Paano kung mamali ang tama ng laser? Hindi kaya ako mabulag? Sabi sa brochure, puwede daw magkaroon ng loss of vision kapag nagkaroon ng kumplikasyon. Shocks! Nagulat pa ako nang tinawag na ako ng nars para pagsuotin ng lab gown. Puros lalaki ang nasa klinika, mula sa tatlong duktor na naka-assign para sa buong proseso hanggang sa tatlong nars na umaasiste sa kanila. Pinaupo ako sa isang maliit na cublicle, pinatingin sa itaas at pinatakan ng sandamakmak na eye drops. Iba’t ibang klaseng pampatak hanggang sa manuot ang gamot sa sinus ko at sumakit ito na para bang nakasinghot ka ng litro-litrong alkohol. Habang nakapikit at hinihintay na manuot ang mga gamot sa mata, ay malalaman kong malapit nang tambakan ng Los Angeles Lakers ang San Antonio Spurs sa kanilang pangalawang laro para sa puwesto sa NBA Finals. Punto por punto kasi ang update ng nars. Papasok na ako sa operating room nang ibinalita ng nars na 101-87 ang final score pabor sa LA Lakers… Tahimik lang ako habang tinatanong ng nars kung mahilig ako sa basketball, sa loob-loob ko, kebs ko naman! Praning na ako at wala akong paki sa basketball.

Ihanda na ang lahat para sa operasyon: Nakahiga na ba ang pasyente sa operating table? Check. Gumagana ba ang cutting machine? Check! Umaandar ba ang laser machine? Sir, yes, sir! Malalim na hininga. This is it! Habang pinag-uusapan ng mga duktor kung gaano ka-high tech ang mga makinarya sa kanilang ospital ay nilinis na ang aking kanang mata. Nilagyan ng tape ang taas at babang mga pilikmata. Tapos, speculum naman para hindi mo maikurap ang iyong mata habang tumitira ang laser. Maliit lang ang speculum na bakal pero nakakatakot pa rin ang hitsura, para bang yung sa pelikulang Clockwork Orange. Ngayon alam ko na ang pakiramdam ni Alex, ang bida sa pelikula, habang pinupurga siya ng mga imahe ng karahasan at digmaan, para daw ma-desensitize ang kaniyang tendensiyang maging marahas. Thought for the second: ang theraphy para sa mga gago? Gaguhin pang lalo.

“Okay Miss Pineda,” sabi ni Doc X, “remember, you, just look straight in the blinking green light ha. Don’t blink. Just let the green light do the blinking.” Ano daw? Was that a joke? Okay, okay, blinking green light, hindi naman siguro mahirap tumingin sa blinking green light di ba?

Biglang may nagsalitang babae, “I am ready now doctor!” Uy! Yung laser machine! Nagsasalita! Babae ang boses ng makina at may twang pa ha! Super high tech na talaga ang mga bagay-bagay at ang makina na mismo ang nagdidikta ng hakbang-hakbang ng proseso ng pag-oopera. Ano kaya ang susunod na teknolohiya? “I am engaged doctor, ready to cut… cutting now!” Teka! Teka! Ano nga ang hihiwain?! Putangina! Hihiwain na ang mata ko, papakuluan at ihahain sa hapag kainan at ipapakain kay Hannibal Lecter! This is too much violence! At nasaan na ang blinking green light?! Bakit nawawala ang blinking green light?! Pucha! NASAAN ANG BLINKING GREEN LIGHT?! Bakit nawawala?! Bulag na ba ako?! Lord! Please let there be light! I want to follow the light! Take me out of the dark my Lord, I don’t want to be there! Puros itim, pula, orange, at green na lamang ang nakikita ko? At hindi blinking! Nagsalita na naman ang babaeng makina, “I am ready to fire now doctor!” Sandali! Ako, hindi pa ready! Wala akong nakikitang blinking green light! I need to see the light! “Firing doctor!” dugtong ng babae. Firing what?! Shet! Amoy nasusunog na nga! Sabi ng duktor, hindi daw regular ang hugis ng cornea ng mga nearsighted na tao, kaya sinusunog ito ng laser upang baguhin ang hugis nito. Huwag daw akong magalala dahil lilinaw na ang aking paningin pagkatapos ng procedure. Okay. Isa pang buntong hininga. Gusto kong pumikit pero may mga bakal na nakasangga sa aking talukap. Ang sakit na ng dibdib ko at feeling ko ay sasabog na ito sa mga naipong malalalim na hininga na ayaw kong pakawalan sa takot na gumalaw ang aking ulo at magkamali ang tama ng laser. Maya-maya pa, sabi ng duktor, tapos na daw ang operasyon and I did fine. Hay. Unti-unti na ring lumiwanag ang paligid at pati ang blinking green light ay namamataan ko na rin. Malabo ang paningin na tumayo ako mula sa operating table. Hindi ko alam kung nahihilo ako, nasusuka o kung paano. Kailangan matulog at magpahinga, at pagmulat ng mata, langit nakatawa na. Yipee!

Sabi ng isang kaibigan, para daw McDonald’s ang laser surgery. Fast food chain ang drama. Nakapila ang lahat ng nais luminaw ang mata, o gumanda, isa-isang papasok sa operating room, at matapos lamang ang halos sampung minuto, walah! Tapos na! Sa halagang Php 60, 000.00 biglang lilinaw ang dati-rati’y malabo, liliwanag ang dati’y madilim, tutuwid ang mga linyang dati-ratiy balikuko, punto por punto ang update sa NBA, muli’t muli ay mapapatunayan mong hindi lahat ng nag-aral sa Estados Unidos ay magiging magaling mag-Ingles, higit pa, paulit-ulit mong mapapatunayan na hindi, kahit kailan man naging pamantayan ang kasanayan sa baralilang Ingles para masukat ang talino o galing ng isang tao, sa kasong ito, ng isang duktor, makikilala mo ang hindi tao at hindi hayop ngunit nakakapagsalita with a twang na makinarya, mararanasan mong pumikit ng hindi pumipikit, o dumilat kahit ayaw mong dumilat, higit pa, dumilat ng walang nakikita, matututunan mong tumingin sa blinking green light, kahit wala namang green light sa iyong harapan, mabubulag ka ng 30 segundo, maaamoy mo ang sariling matang nasusunog, mararanasan mo ang pinaka-mahabang sampung minuto ng buhay mo, at ang makulay na mundong naghihintay pagmulat ng iyong mga mata kinabukasan.

Aba! At may souvenir DVD pa ng iyong sariling lasik surgery.

Sa bahay, habang nakaratay at nagpapahinga, nagtext si Doc X, “Hi, how are you? Did you arriveD safely?” Hay naku Doc, buti na lang rakenrol ka!

This wasn’t meant to be a poem… a free verse of longing and passion… a free verse of unguarded emotions… a free verse of risk and robbery… yes, sometimes, I find myself breaking and entering into someone else’s room and taking your picture away in my broom… I feel like a witch-casting spell, I feel like a thief in this twilight of ardor and strange smell… I feel like a thief in this room of uncertainty…

I feel like a tide to the sand… I hold back like a tide to the sand, constantly washing away the bays rough terrain… constantly moving away, only to seek solace in the vastness of the deep…

For moment in that room, I wasn’t sure if I should talk to you that way… for a moment, I didn’t know how to look at you… I didn’t know how to touch you… I never knew how to touch you… I wanted to… I wanted to… but didn’t know how to… I desperately wanted to look you in the eye, but like the tide to the sand, I constantly move away from your shores to seek solace in the vastness of the deep… for a moment in that room of uncertainty, I thought I would never be able to know you.

I still feel like a thief, playing god in this twilight of emotions… maybe it’s the desire to unravel… the desire to admit that, yes, I wanted to stay with you a bit longer than I should… I feel like a thief, taking and breaking and entering at each moment I tried to look at you… I feel like a thief, taking and breaking and entering every time I tried to write about you… maybe I shouldn’t write to you anymore…

I am groping for words… groping for words… tell me, should I feel like a thief in this puzzle of snakes and ladders… I slip and slide, slip and slide, tell me should I allow my self to slip and slide into this… should I allow myself to slip and slide into you… tell me, make it more crystal in my head… tell me.

This is nothing more but tide and sand… tide to sand… but I am helplessly tied to your sand…

You better love loving you better behave
You better love loving you better behave
Woman in Chains
Woman in Chains

Calls her man the Great White Hope
Says she’s fine, she’ll always cope
Woman in Chains
Woman in Chains

Well I feel lying and waiting is a poor man’s deal
And I feel hopelessly weighed down by your eyes of steel
[your eyes of steel]
It’s a world gone crazy
Keeps Woman in Chains

Woman in Chains
Woman in Chains

Trades her soul as skin and bone
[You better love loving you better behave]
Sells the only thing she owns
[You better love loving you better behave]

Woman in Chains
[The Sun and the Moon]
Woman in Chains

Men of Stone Men of Stone

Well I feel deep in your heart there are wounds Time can’t heal
[That time can't heal]
And I feel somebody somewhere is trying to breathe
Well you know what I mean
It’s a world gone crazy
Keeps Woman in Chains

It’s under my skin but out of my hands
I’ll tear it apart but I won’t understand
I will not accept the Greatness of Man

It’s a world gone crazy
Keeps Woman in Chains
[gone crazy keeps Woman in Chains]

So Free Her So Free Her
So Free Her So Free Her
So Free Her So Free Her
[The Sun and the Moon]

So Free Her So Free Her

Isang mapagpalayang buwan ng kababaihan!

ODA PARA SA ISANG ANGHEL
(Disyembre 24 2006)

Ano ang tunay na papel
Ng isang magandang anghel
Sa isang pusong naguguluhan o
Nagugulumihanan?

Kung ang bawat ngiti
Ay may dalang pagkamangha
At bawat tingin
Ay may dalang pagkatulala

Ano ang tunay na papel
Ng isang magandang anghel
Sa isang pusong pinapanawan ng pag-ibig?

Kung ang tabas ng iyong pisngi ay pinapatingkad
Ng kulay abong usok ng sigarilyong
Namamaybay sa paligid ng iyong mukha

Kung ang iyong mga labi
Sa gitna ng nakakasukang alimuom ng sigarilyo
Ay lalong pumupula sa pagkakaipit sa beho nito

Ano ang tunay na papel ng isang magandang anghel
Sa isang pusong nalulunod?

Kung ang bawat titig ng iyong mga mata
Sa ilalim ng mahahabang pilikmata
Lingid na titig man o hindi
Ay lalong nagpapapungay sa dala nitong pang-akit

Kung ang bawat haplos ng iyong mga daliri
Sadya man o hindi
Ay lalong nagpapatindig sa mga balahibo kong
Pinapainit ng mga kuryenteng nanawid mula rito

Kung ang bawat musika ng iyong latang tinig
Mahina man o hindi
Ay lalong nagpapangiti sa aking nagnanasang labi

Ano ang tunay na papel
Ng isang magandang anghel
Sa isang pusong nais lumaya?
Pagbuong muli ng magagandang tanawin?
Pagdamdam sa balat na tuyot?
Pang-ibsan sa nanghihingi ng tulong na puso?

Sabihin mo sa akin
Kung ano ang tunay na papel
Ng isang magandang anghel
Sa aking pusong nagdarasal ng pagdatal
Ng isang magandang anghel.

I am breathing out a lot of things.

"Breathing out." This has been my favorite expression and action in the past year.

I breathe out when I am sad, when breaths are coupled with tears or clear muccus dripping from my nose, red and shiny from the rough edges of paper towels. In these times, my breaths are cold and heavy, and as if to prevent the weight of air to fall so flatly on the ground, I make it a point to shape my mouth in a small circle, slowly, controlling the output of air from my lungs to my mouth to the air without. The process of breathing out in these times are always slow and hard, sometimes even making my temple tremble in pain, but that last stretch of breath, when I finally feel the burden on my chest lifted out and thrown into the air… that moment always gives incomparable lightness. And somehow, my head becomes lighter, and my mind empty for a moment. Floating and enjoying the lightness I feel within and without.

I breathe out when I am happy, when breaths are coupled with a smile, or a wide open mouth, sometimes, the joy within jumps out without bounds from my heart, that it creates sounds and yawps involuntarily. In these times, the process of breathing out are always fast and abrupt, as if my breaths mimic the syncopated rhythm of my heart, or the dances of my stomach. Could hardly contain. Could hardly retain. Always short and loud.

I am breathing out a lot of emotions. I am breathing out a lot of negative energies. I am breathing out decisions that’s been in my heart and in my head for a while, but fright always compelled me to stall. But this year, I am breathing out important turns in my life. I am breathing out decisions. I am breathing out and putting these decisions into actions. Breathing out lost loves and even if these loves are never entirely lost, I am breathing them out as rituals to fire new loves that might meet me.

It is a very good start of the year. To breathe out things that pin me down. Breathe out new directions. Breathe in new learnings. And breathe in clean air that will give strenght to thread higher grounds, for higher purposes.

I am finally going home.

These past three weeks have been an emotional roller coaster ride for me. And now, I am packing my bags, relieved without bounds that I am finally leaving this God-forsaken suburbs of Sacramento. Something tells me, it is going to take some time, before I go back here again. I won’t miss a thing. I was never excited everytime I come here. If anything, a part of me always gets depressed and stressed. But something tells me… I have to reflect about this trip this time. Like it would never happen again.

Exciting things have happened too in this trip. My mother and I went to New York, walked our legs out until the soles of our feet ache and the muscles in our legs get numb. We went to see broadway shows like Hairspray and Wicked, which I thoroughly enjoyed. And meeting with a kasama whose commitment to the movement could never be questioned, despite her latest… trial she had to face. Then I went to have a very short trip in the Bay Area, meeting up with some or probably the closest friends I have here. It was always a pleasure being a dork with people who enjoy being a dork equally — laughing and creating telenovelas through photo shoots and singing to some of the cheesiest love songs, but nevertheless, songs that deeply affect us, while on the road. And meeting a high school friend, who enjoys food as much as I do, and who always brings me to wonderful restaurants around the bay. These are deep connections indeed, that I cherish, protect and take care of.

In between, there’s the boring life of the suburbs. Where I am sedentary, eat greasy foods and sweets like no other, sleep, watch Korean novela, like it’s the most important thing in life, and just get plain lazy about everything and anything about my life. Some life. At the same time, these are also my hard moments with my mother. This is the time when we bicker about things, or fight, and then, in a very hard way, make up. This is also the time for us to get to know each other deeper and then try to open to each other more. Come to think of it, coming here has always been the time for us to be hard about our feelings, because the situation compels us to talk, rationalize, or even cry hard. In retrospect, coming here has always had a very crucial place in my history. It was when I was here when I first told her about an experience I had with sexual violence, my queerness, my desire to have a child without a father, my plans of going somewhere she cannot comprehend, and my plans of going there still. She has also cried her eyes out too many times in these moments of ours. And somehow, in a very strange way, I have come to thank these moments that I am actually here and I am able to have these moments with my mother. I imagine, given the context back home, it would be much harder for us to talk about hard things, but being confined here, gave us the opportunity to deal with these hard feelings. And even though coming here has always made me sad to a point of depression over and over, I have come to realize its place in my life.

So now, with just a few hours left, I am finally stepping into a plane that will bring me home in two days. In two days, I will step unto the land where my commitment lies, with literally heavier feet, 40 pounds heavier to be exact, depressed still, stressed maybe… but with a new perspective of trips that has always made me so in the past years. In the hope, that in retrospect, every thing about there will change.

I will lean into you
and you can be the wind.
I will open my mouth
and you can come rushing in.
you can rush in so hard
and make it so I can’t breath.
You know I breath too much anyway
I can do that any day.

I just wish I knew who you were
I wish you’d make yourself known.
You probably don’t realize I am her
woman you want to call home.
I’ll keep my ear to your wall.
I’ll keep my eye on the door.
‘Cause I have heard my own jokes
and it’s just not funny anymore.
You know I laugh too much anyway
I can do that any day.

Have you ever been bent or fold
have you ever been played like a string.
If I could see you I could strum you,
I could break you, make you sing.
I guess you can’t really see the wind,
it just comes and fills the space,
and everytime something moves
you think you have seen it’s face.
I always got my guitar and play
but you know I can do that any day

* One of favorite acoustic songs ever, by my most beloved singer-songwriter Ani Difranco. My heart jumps with every movement of her guitar strings, and my eyes tears with every undulation in her syncopated singing. I just love her.

The Woman who had too many chances
Sits still like stone carved on soil
Proud of its unwavering coil
Drowning in her tragedy
She wails of innocence like every mistake is
An innocent mistake.

The Woman who had too many chances
Lets loose a pint, no, an ocean of tears
Holding on to her pains as long as she can bear
Indulging in her misery
She whispers of misinterpretation like every mistake is
A matter of miscognition.

The Woman who had too many chances
Lurks in silence
Throwing darkness around me like her burdens are
My own burdens
Wallowing in her negativity
She screams of hearing something else like every mistake is
A matter of hygiene.

The Woman who had too many chances
Recites apologies like a mantra
She means well
Sorry
She did not know
Really sorry
She wants to make things better
Really really sorry
Mantras dragged on with each and every mistake
Like every mistake is a matter of time waiting

But foolish is
The Woman who had too many chances
Because nothing can be resolved by sitting like a stone
Or answering questions with a soft moan
She will lose me
She lost me
Foolish, I mutter
As I,
Sit here in wonder
More foolish than her
Waiting
Still giving her
One more chance.

August 7, 2006
12:10 in the morning

Like
a coquettish beauty
You
come and go
Carefully
playing hide and seek
Within
and without the pitiful
Corners
of my heart and mind.

Your
dance
Is
the dance of fires
Unguarded
like the gypsy waves
Graceful
like a ballerina on toes
Your
arabesques skimming grounds
Your
jumps engaging skies
Your
tiptoeing caress flirting with my eyes.

Could
you be more careful the next
You
come and go
Within
and without the pitiful
Corners
of my heart,
For
it can only know the sound
Of
sobs and melancholy
When
you leave to play
Or
bottle up, like you were once
In
your comforting cocoon
Or
the next, you come
Tumbling
in and out of my sight
Sometimes,
gently pulling my mind
Into
your colorful silence
So
full of spectral meaning,
For
when you do,
My
heart tumbles and stumbles with you
And
the dangers of unguarded dances
And
the security unheard of
In
these spectrum of sedulous perils
Can
only make it long for your
Imprudent
comings and goings.

Butterflies
come and go
Sometimes
in a bunch
Sometimes
as a lonesome stranger
In
all colors, they creep inside your sleep
So
deep
In
all shapes and sizes, like looking through
A
kaleidoscope trip.

But,
so long as your color matches
Mine
desire
You
will be the only known butterfly
I
will ever wait to have arrived.

(September 13, 2007)

Ang Martial Law, para sa iba, ay isang memoryang mailap sa mga galamay ng kamalayang Pinoy. Mga bakas sa alaalang sa sobrang pagkaligaw ay parang hindi umiral o naging totoo. Halos parang panaginip na walang aktuwalidad.

Mahirap panghawakan ang alaala: ang halos isang libong politikal na pinaslang, dalawang daan na sapilitang dinukot, malawakang paghihikahos, kawalan ng trabaho, at pagbagsak ng edukasyon nang walang humpay sa kasalukuyang pangulo. Mas madaling panghawakan ang mga bagay na idinuduldol sa ating kasalukuyan: ang pag-aabang sa susunod na magiging milyonaryo sa lotto o sa paboritong noon-time show, ang paghabol sa nagmamadaling dyip upang hindi maabsent sa klase o trabaho, ang ang limitless texting na nauubos sa pagfoforward ng mga joke o mga panalangin sa santo, ang “broadbanding” ng mga Pilipino upang maging instant ang pag-abot sa iba’t ibang panig ng mundo. Tuloy, mas mabilis pa sa pagluluto ng instant mami ang paglipas ng memorya nating mga Pilipino. Nawawala ang pag-uugat sa kasaysayan, dahil binuburo sa perpetuwal na kasalukuyan.

Hindi tuloy napapansing ang mga suliraning pambansa sa kasalukuyan ay anak-anakan lamang ng mga sitwasyong pambansa sa nakaraan. Idinadaan na lamang sa pagpapalit ng tatak, ng mga pangngalan. Ang dating dispersal ay pinalitan lang ng Calibrated Preemptive Response; ang extra-judicial killings ay inadornohan ng Oplan Bantay Laya; ang mataray at mala-kontrabidang Anti-Terror Bill ay sumailalim sa repackaging at naging ang mistulang pa-tweetums na Human Security Act (HSA); at ang pinausong Presidential Proclamation 1017 – ang “State of National Emergency” – kung marunong lamang na magbalik-tanaw ang lahat ay walang dudang malalaman nilang isa lamang itong bagong-bihis na pagtatangka sa pagpapatupad ng Batas Militar.

ULYANIN NA NGA BA ANG MGA PINOY? Ganito ang pagtingin ng Rehimeng US-Arroyo sa atin. Kung hindi’y bakit iniisip ng Rehimeng ito na hindi natin masisilip ang mga anomalya sa National Broadband Network Project? Kung hindi’y bakit ipatutupad ang HSA at hahayaang tapak-tapakan ang mga basic na karapatan tulad ng pag-uunyon, pag-oorganisa, pagpapakilos at pagtutunggali? Kung hindi naniniwala ang Rehimeng ito sa ating paglimot, bakit napatupad ang EO 464 at hahayaang maprotektahan ang mga alagad at kakuntsaba ng ating pangulo? Ganito na ba kahungkag at kawalang-saysay ang pagtingin sa atin ng pamahalaang Pilipino?

Hindi. Hindi natin papayagang maging masamang panaginip o matandang alamat na lamang ang mga bakas ng Martial Law. Hinding-hindi natin tatanggapin ang idinuduldol sa atin ng ating paligid—na tayo’y makasarili, na tayo’y walang kapasidad upang baguhin ang bulok na bulok nang sistema, na tayo’y hindi na nakaaalala. O ang mas kalunos-lunos, na pinili nating huwag nang makaalala.

Ngayong ikadalawampu’t isa ng Setyembre, taong dalawang libo’t pito, patunayan nating sa pagitan ng mabilis na pagpapalit-palit ng mga segundo, sa panahon ng paggigiit ng Matatag na Republika patungo sa isang mapanlinlang na Pamayanang Global, patunayan nating lahat na sa gitna ng lahat ng ito, tayo ay nakakaalala. Nakakaalala sa mga leksyon ng nakalipas. Nakakaalala na tayo ay bahagi ng nakalipas na ito. Higit sa lahat, nakakaalalang may puwang ang ating pag-iral at may espasyo ang ating kolektibong pagkilos patungo sa mapagpalayang lipunang palaging mailap ngunit batid nating tiyak na maaabot.

Hindi tayo makakalimot, dahil lubos-lubos na ang isang Martial Law.

Hindi tayo nakakalimot, dahil kay Gloria Macapagl-Arroyo, araw-araw ay pagdanas sa Martial Law.

Tigilan ang pulitikal na represyon at pamamaslang! Tutulan ang pasismo ng rehimeng Arroyo-U.S.! Patalsikin si Arroyo!

CONGRESS OF TEACHERS/EDUCATORS FOR NATIONALISM AND DEMOCRACY (CONTEND-UP) Setyembre 21, 2007