Grace

The rain’s pouring hard

And I’m still outside

Don’t know how long I was standing here

My head’s turning out

My heart’s falling down

Don’t think somebody can see me chill

The thunder’s roaring

The noise’s deafening

But it’s only my heart’s weep I hear

And now, I’m dying

I can see it coming

There’s nothing left for me to fear

I know I can beat it

I will win over it

I only need time to heal

Yes, I am lonesome

Scared, lost from home

But later, I’ll shed no more tear

‘Cause after the storm

I will feel the warmth

Of the sun telling me I’m stronger

“That was quite a show, very entertaining… but it’s over now, go on and take a bow…”

Not that interested to sing now, I resorted to counting, but instead of sheep, I concentrated on the beads of my bracelet: three medium-sized brown beads, two small orange beads and 18 small black beads. Done. So what now?

I stared at the wall. It’s white, but I found a pink mark on it. I unintentionally landed my Stabilo pen on it when I was reading a book a few months ago.

I also looked at the bolster just beside me. It has Mickey Mouse on its cover. If I’m told to describe it according to the “Wear and Tear Theory”, I would say it’s almost at the afternoon of its life. The softness it once had is gone, and what I’m embracing for the moment is a limp one: weak, almost floppy, bad pillow.

Hmm… at the headboard is a bag, a Stabilo pen which I talked about a while ago, a lampshade, a bottle of alcohol and a pink liniment (mind you, this liniment is not good for Traditional Massage or “hilot”). None of them interests me at the moment. Period.

Wait! The curtain’s pink. The liniment, the mark on the wall and the lampshade I got last Christmas party are all pink. Now that’s what I call “appealing”.

It’s about six months ago when I found out that I am loving pink more than I did for any color for the rest of my life. Pink are my clothes, my handkerchief, and even my comb. Pink are the clothes I want my sisters to wear and the slippers I want them to use. Pink-lover? (Pause.)

Maybe that’s just what I want my persona to be. Why? Because I find myself loving BLACK, the darkness and the loneliness. Ironically speaking, I don’t like it. I want everything to be pink because I want to struggle this certain kind of misery (for the second time around).

I don’t want to be so emotional again. I don’t want to cry gallons of tears at night, and I don’t want to wake up the “Sleeping Madness” in me.

I believe it’s only me who can manage my emotions. It’s only me who can keep me away from being a paranoid again. It’s only me who can fight being a madman. It’s me and me alone. Nobody else can.

I believe I’m a jolly person, a positive one. A futuristic damsel (not in distress) waiting for my knight in shining armor.

Conclusion: Black is being lonely, pink is being loved.

Black is for those who cry, pink is for those who love.

Loving and being loved is what I know pink is.

Guess which blouse I’m wearing right now. Black or pink? Hmm… it’s black. (I told you, I start to feel so alone again. It’s only during those bad times I wear black blouses.) Too bad…

Is black winning the game? I guess, but I hope not.

One, two, oh. I nearly forgot. They’re 23; three brown, two orange and 18 black.

It is 12:46 pm and I’m starting to feel drowsy. I pulled the blanket from my feet up to my chest and chanted a short advertisement song, “…mag-Coke lang syempre.”

I glued my head to the big white pillow and looked above my head, mumbled a little and decided to sleep. I’m starting to close my eyes when suddenly, the wind blew hard and the pink curtain moved swiftly, as if telling me, “Black is not winning, pink is still on the lead.”

This is a story of two girls named Nikka and Keena.

Nikka is a known performer. Can act, sing, dance and even write for the school paper. She belongs to a well-off family which added to her worth as a “Celebrity in Every Celebration” in their school.

Keena is a typical Ms. Invisible. Born without good looks, ungifted; befriended by two or three classmates; and often regarded as “Unlovable” because of her unique appearance.

There came a time when they bumped each other on the stairway right before the eyes of their classmates. They fell on the ground and their things scattered. They were both shocked of what happened; Nikka, being out of poise, and Keena, sorry for what she thought was her fault.The people around them suddenly helped them get up and pick up their stuffs.

From that moment, they became friends. Theirs is a very extraordinary friendship anybody would wish. They would always eat their lunch together; sometimes, finish their homework at the school library; and shared their personal secrets.

Everything seemed perfect until a day came when fate has to test their companionship.

Nikka joined a beauty contest and she took Keena with her in the rehearsals and even on some portions of the contest.

Being encircled by beautiful girls wasn’t a big deal to Nikka, but to Keena, it was a great experience. As Nikka walks on the stage, Keena looks up to her with gleaming eyes and would take pictures of her. Sometimes, she would shout “That’s my bestfriend!”, simply saying that she is Nikka’s greatest aficionada. Because of Keena’s superb acclamation to her, she became too proud of herself that she believed Keena doesn’t merit her as a friend.

On the main event of the contest, Keena approached her friend and said, “I wish you all the best, Nikka…”. She tried to hug Nikka but the girl refused.

“Keena… please, before I get up the stage, don’t talk to me because there are a lot of talent scouts here. They might see me… they might see me speaking to… to unique people… unique… do you get what I mean?”

It was like a roaring thunder to Keena’s ears. Those hurtful words echoed and sank easily into her. She decided to go home and didn’t wait who won on the contest.

On the way home, Keena can’t stop her tears from falling and she didn’t know where she’s going to.

On the following day, Nikka went to school and was asked by her classmates.

“What happened yesterday?”

Nikka cheerfully answered, “Luckily, I am the winner and a lot of talent manager and scouts noticed me..”

“No, we’re talking about Keena…”

She got blank and just thought of the ugly-faced friend who might have ruined her glamorous night.

“I don’t know… I just told her not to talk to me ‘fore I got up the stage…”.

The whole class got mad with her attitude and one of them told her, “You really don’t know what happened? Her mother came here 10 minutes ago and told us her daughter was hit by a truck and arrived at the hospital dead.”

All of a sudden, her blushing cheeks lost their color.

She cried and ran down the staircase. She fell and there’s no one to help her.

Memories flashed back in her mind, the very moment when Keena and she bumped each other. They were at the same condition but their classmates treated them as equal, helped them both get up.

“Why did I ever treat you like that? Why didn’t I think of us as equal?”

Wind blew lightly and dried up her tears; she felt somebody hugged her tightly and Nikka didn’t want to refuse that hug anymore.

There was a cute little teddy bear named “Minowee” who believed he was boy.

Having a little black nose and two big black eyes made him a creepy stuffed toy, thinking of it as a curse.

Everyday is just an ordinary day for him, sitting on his chair. Sometimes, he could be seen standing on a little wooden platform along with other stuffed toys.

Then a day came when a little girl approached the store and bought him.

Theirs is an extraordinary friendship. The girl is a loner, and would always tell him how cruel life has been to her. She told him about her nightmares, her bad classmates, her fears and even her never-ending boredom.

She always talks to him with a sad smile and he would always offer her the softest hug, (and the sweetest) in the world. Of course, he can’t talk, all he could give her is his own softness.

If only she knew how much she means to the little teddy bear.

Everything went smooth until a day came when the little girl had to choose between her poor little teddy bear and a long-lost friend who came back after a long vacation.

The little girl forgot about her ever-loyal teddy bear. She once left him on her bed, and then a day later, unknowingly kicked the poor old toy under.

He, then, had been the loneliest toy in the world, dealing with dusts and some candy-wrappers, (still, under the bed… poor boy)

Devastated is what he is, but he is still hoping that the girl would get him back from that dark place and hug him once more…

A little black nose and two big black eyes, but now, a lonely stuffed toy.

Once, there was a little teddy bear named “Minowee” who believed he was boy, and who still wished he could be loved like a real boy.

Ako si Mary Grace Corona Jotojot.

Ipinanganak noong March 7, 1989, na buo ang katawan, may kulay na hindi kaputian, makapal ang buhok at wala pang nunal sa noo.

Lumaon ang panahon, ang tao ay nahabaan sa aking pangalan. Ang aking ina ang unang nagbansag sa akin ng Gigi. Si Tita, ang suggestion, Magie.. Buti hindi natuloy.. Para tuloy noodles.. ^^

Lumaon pang muli ang panahon at ako ay nag-aral. Nakatapos ng elementary, high school, at sa ngayon ay nangangarap na sana, matapos ko rin ang college. Hopeful ako sa bagay na ito.

Sa bawat bitaw ko ng hininga at sagap kong muli ng hangin, hindi mawawala sa isip ko ang mga problema ko, ang mga taong importante sa akin, at ang mga bagay na gusto kong baguhin sa sarili ko.

Sa pagitan ng mga gyerang ito sa isip ko, maraming tao ang nakasalamuha ko.

May mga taong nagpagaan ng nararamdaman ko, may taong nagturo ng daan, may itinulak ako sa kanal, at mayroon pang inilublob pa akong lalo sa putikan.

Pagkatapos ilublob sa putikan, masaya sana kung kukuhain niya ulit ako, para man lang sana humingi ng sorry. Kaso hindi.

Hay buhay. Sabi nga ni Kuya Kim, “Weather-weather lang yan”.

Siguro nga hindi ko pa weather kaya kung tingnan na lang ako ng tao ganun na lang. parang patay na kuko, pinatay na nga ng may-ari, pinandirihan pa.

Kung pwede lang sanang bumalik sa dating ako, gagawin ko. Yung batang simple lang, walang gustong matupad sa buhay kundi makapagbigay ng karangalan sa magulang. Yung masaya na’ng nakakapag-aral sa umaga at nakakapaglaro sa hapon.

Kung pwede lang. kaso hindi.

Iyon siguro ang tinatawag na “Beauty of Life” ko. Kung hindi ako dumating sa puntong ito ng giyera, maa-appreciate ko ba ang pagkabata ko? Hindi di’ba?

Appreciative naman ako pero sa ibang tao. Hindi sa sarili ko. Ang tingin ko kasi sa sarili ko isang malaking talunan.

Seryoso na kung seryoso pero minsan lang kasi ako dumarating sa puntong ganito eh. Karamihan ng kwento ko sa joke nagsisimula at natatapos, pero I’m so overwhelmed right now to the point that I need to pour them out.

Napilas na ang pahinang pang-Nobyembre at isang linggo na ang naeekisan sa Disyembre. Palapit na ang Pasko at wala pa rin akong maisip na ipang-regalo. Mahirap din kasi mag-isip pag wala ka pang pera… hehehe

Noong isang linggo ay naggala kami ng mga kapatid ko. Sa daan pa lang ay nagkalat na ang mga makukulay na parol, mga nakahilerang Punong may nakakabit na Christmas tree, mga billboard na Paskong-pasko ang dating at mga katulad naming naggagala.

Nakakatuwa dahil ramdam pa rin ng mga Pinoy ang Pasko sa gitna ng kahirapan. Hindi sila nagpapaapekto sa krisis pang-ekonomiya na ngayon ay sumasalakay sa buong mundo. Isa pa’y buhay na buhay pa rin ang mga nakasanayan na’ng gawin tuwing Pasko. May Christmas tree, lights, at decors; meron ding mga batang wala pang Dec. 16 ay nangangaroling na. Andyan pa rin ang mga kantang pam-Paskong maririnig mo sa mga istasyon sa radyo. Kahit sa T. V., Pasko na rin ang temang ginagamit.

Iyan ang isa sa mga katangian ng Pinoy na palaging lumalabas saan man sila mapadpad. Sila ang mga taong laging masaya. Hindi halatang problemado at hinding-hindi nagpapaapekto.

I have always been a nature-lover…

Climbed the mountains just to find out what is behind it and what to see below;

Dived under the sea even though I do not know how to swim, and then found myself drowning;

Lay down the sand just to see the stars up above the sky;

Watered our Anthurium and Aster very early in the morning;

Cut some of Mama’s Euphorbia and then plant it afterwards;

In addition, took pictures of trees and flowers on the road while I was riding a bus.

It has been a year since I last did all of these and I found myself missing those moments. In fact, I usually do it with my mother and sisters as part of our bonding. My enthusiasm and passion mounted up and somewhat made me sad oftentimes.

Until we woke up early this morning and went to Subic to visit a property of my Tita’s friend.

An auditor, a dentist, a teacher and a singer aged 50 and above… it’s quite unusual, but I am with them…

If you say that trip will not be filled with fun, then think again…

It was indeed a memorable one… sumptuous meal, beautiful beach, a happy chitchat…

The three women reminisced their elementary and high school days… The bangs that they flaunted, their classmates who wore knee-high socks, their former boyfriends, and a whole lot more.

While they were busy telling each of their stories, I walked twenty meters away and got me busy taking pictures… myself, the beach, the near mountainsides and the dragonfly I saw hopping… =)

It was so funny because I felt like I was a newborn child. Just enough for me to think that I am one with the universe… the nature is one with me and I am a part of it…

I have never felt so peaceful like this for the past few months…

I have always been alone but this kind of solitude is different, making me want to share this precious time with somebody; someone who definitely wants to be with me…

Sometimes, solitaire is a nice game…

Ang cute ng pakiramdam ko ngayon, kahit na-boring na ako mag-open ng FS ko… (nakakainis, ang tagal ko maka-connect, kala ko banned na ko ^^)

Tiningnan ko na lang sa address bar (ewan ko anu tawag dun, basta yun tawag ko dun..) kung saan pa ako pwede maggala.

Blog. Hehe, yung site ko.

Isang click, dalawa…

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Natuwa ako bigla… ewan ko ba, parang nabuhay yung dugo ko nung makita ko yung mga sinulat ko… naka-apat na blog na pala ako…

Siguro para sa iba, chicken feed lang yun, pero sa akin, sa apat na yun, maligaya na ako. Eh sa tagal ba namang hindi ako nagsusulat, medyo nagkabuhul-buhul na utak ko. Akala ko pa nga, hindi ko na kakayanin kahit isang article…

Naalala ko tuloy ang simula…

Hindi ko malalaman na interes ko pala ang pagsulat kung hindi ako napasali sa Journalism Class nung elementary pa ako. Si Ma’am De Gula ang teacher namin nun.

Pito (o lima) kaming estudyante niya noon, tuwing alas-10 ang skedyul, dun sa 2^nd floor ng cute na building. (Yung building na ka-konekta ng waiting shed dati ng Gen. T….wala na yon ngayon, hindi ko na alam kung anong ginawa, bago na bang building o ano…)

Hindi ko na nga rin matandaan kung paano ako napili para turuan niya ng special class na ganoon. Ito lang ang natatandaan ko…:

-Araw-araw, tinuturuan niya kami ng mga basics ng journalism sa edad naming 11-12 (Grade 5 pa kasi kami nun)

-Pang-college na’ng aklat ang gamit namin, (wala naman kasing version ng book na pang-elementary, eh… naboring pa nga ako magbasa nun, kasi walang drawing, puro sulat.. hehe..)

-ang gamit kong aklat ay yung aklat ni Kuya Edwin, (isa kasi sa subject niya yun nung nag-aaral siya ng Law sa FEU, hiniram ko, tapos hindi ko na naibalik…, hehe, sori… =)

-madalas dumugo ang ilong namin sa pag-intindi ng mga sinasabi sa libro… (hehe, kuntodo translation ang nangyayari… “Class, naintindihan ba?” sasagutin naman namin ng isang mahabang OOPPPOO.. eh kasi nga bata…)

-palagi’ng may nakahanda si Ma’am na exam… (mga balita yun na nira-rumble niya, kami ang mag-aayos ayon sa inverted pyramid… dun ko nga nalaman meaning ng inverted… hehe)

-Tinuruan niya rin kami ng cartooning… (medyo nakakadrawing na ako nun, taong palito, smile na walang ngipin, at kamay na puro buto pa… haha)

-Binu-boost na niya ang confidence namin,… (dito ako na-touch, kahit kasi hindi niya kami advisory, anak na ang turing niya sa amin… )

-First time kong naligaw nung pumunta ako sa bahay nila… (dun sa may Yamaha School of Music, dun sa may street dun, hanap ako ng hanap sa kanya, andun pala siya pagtawid, hehe)

-First tine ko din sumali ng mga contest… first time manalo, at syempre, nung sumunod, natalo… weheheh)

Sa experience kong yun, narealize kong ang sarap satap palang maging writer… gusto ko, maging news writer ako…

Kaya lang, talagang gusto ko rin naman ang kursong kinuha ko…

Ang turo ni Ma’am De Gula, ibinaon ko na lang… pagsulat ng essay, pagconstruct ng intro, closing at body, etc…sa high school at sa college…

Hanggang ngayon, kapag nagiging proud ako at nakakatapos ako ng isa, si Ma’am ang naaalala ko. Masaya ako dahil sa isang parte ng Grace na ginising niya. Yung bahagi ng pagkatao kong gustong-gusto kong paghusayin pa, =)

Maulan ang araw kahapon. Pagpasok pa lang namin sa opisina nang umaga, umaambon na.

Dumating ang alas-4, umuulan pa rin. Nag-alala na ako, “Paano kaya, wala pa naman kaming service…”

Natigil ang pag-aalala ko nang sinabi ni Tita na tingnan-tingnan ko sa labas kung naroon na si Mang Elias. Maya-maya pa’y may isang kotseng mabilis na pumarada. Si Mang Elias. Hay salamat!

Napakasarap ng pakiramdam habang nakaupo ako sa likod. Napakalamig man sa loob ng sasakyan, nangingiti akong pumikit at nagpahinga sumandali. Nanginginig na ako pero okey lang, at least, safe kami, at hindi kami mababasa ng ulan. Kasi naman, ang isang maghapong pagtatrabaho at isang oras na basa ang bunbunan at likod ay napakabisang simula ng trangkaso. Kakagaling ko lang sa sakit nu’ng isang buwan, sakit na naman?!?

Pagdilat ko, napatingin ako sa bintana ng kotse at nakita ang patak ng ulan na bumabalisbis nang napakabilis. Malakas nga ang ulan. Naririnig pa namin si Karen Davila sa radyo na nagsabing napakalakas daw ng ulan sa Quezon City.

Narinig ko man yon, nagsimula nang tumigil ang utak ko, mabingi ang tenga ko at mag-isip ang puso ko. Nakakatuwa, may mga oras palang ang puso natin ang nag-iisip, palibhasa’y siya ang nakakaramdam, siya naman ngayon ang nagdikta sa isip kong makinig muna.

Bumalik sa akin ang nakaraan. Ang ulan, nakita kong parang luha sa mga mata ko, tinatakpan ang bawat makita ko.

Ang mga araw na lagi akong umiiyak, bumalik sa kasalukuyan. Ang mga problema, ang mga eksena sa buhay ko na akala ko may makikinig sa akin pag nagsimula na akong magkuwento. Ang katakut-takot na bangungot sa fantasy world ko ay dumating ilang buwan na ang nakakaraan. Ayoko na ng ganoong pakiramdam. Ayoko nang umiyak.

Makalipas ang ilang minuto, tumigil kami, palibhasa’y magbabayad na ng toll fee.

Napangiti ako. Hindi ko alam kung bakit. Akala ko, nababaliw na ako.

Isang matinding realisasyon ang biglang pumasok sa isip ko. Ang lahat ng ulan, malakas man o mahina, tumitigil din. Ang ulan, isang kaganapang pangkalikasan, ay isa ring tagapag-paalala sa sangkatauhan na ang bawat lungkot at pighati ay mayroon ding katapusan.

May pagkaubos din ng tubig sa ulap. Bukas…

“Why me?”

A hackneyed question everybody asks themselves if they undergo a heart-pounding experience. Primarily because they think they were not supposed to be the one suffering from that crisis.

Hey, why don’t we stop from asking ourselves that question and accept what is presently ahead us?

Bad experience could be the way which leads us to know more about ourselves. It could also be the way for us to consider every little thing beside us which we don’t seem to care for before. Like the old folks say, “Experience is the best teacher.”

Aside from that, we will never know pleasure unless we are familiarized to sadness.

I remember a part of my life when I was abandoned; I can’t think of a way for me to forget that. I never even thought that through that no-win situation, somebody will be there to go with me; counseling me and explaining why I must face such a serious predicament.

That said episode continuously occupied my mind, when I wake up in the morn, and before I fall off to sleep.

Even in my wake hours, it also has the power to stop me from what I’m doing. It’s like a TV commercial aired hundred times a day, especially when big stars endorse it.

That chapter of my life started a long time ago when my best friend and I walked a common street…

At first, we’ve been on cloud nine… starry eyed; high spirited, cherished each other like no other did to both of us. We paced the street gladly and both believed we will reach the end together.

At that time, I assumed he’s eager to go with me, only to know at the end that his promise is only superficial.

At the middle of the walk, the sun went down and darkness embraced the stage set. He stopped and told me to walk alone. Yeah, he never left me. He just told me he’ll stop walking because he’s tired accompanying me, and that he’s also tired of me.

At that moment, I felt devastated… Tears ran down my face and blurred my eyes from seeing that there was somebody who can go with me… somebody whom I never expected to be there.

It was the ice cream vendor who pushed his cart at that night. Imagine, ice cream at night?! He even asked me to have a cone of it… I was so sad that time that I took his invitation gladly. He told me that the only flavor available was Rocky Road. He added that he made it exquisitely, and that it’s for free.

And it was the best ice cream I ever had…

A few moments later, I noticed that we were already approaching a smooth road. Before we reached our destination, he again talked to me for the second time.

“My girl, the road may be a long and winding one. Somebody might go with you and then stop from walking with you. But remember, from that rocky road, learn your lesson and keep it always in your mind. Your mistake is your best teacher.

I am here, ice cream is still available and I offer it for free even at the middle of the night. Accept it so you’ll feel like the road is lighted again.”

From what he told me, I realized it was the Creator talking to me. Yeah, he’s right. From absolute lonesome to total pleasure, from zero to 100, and from NOBODY, we can be a real SOMEBODY. We just have to talk to Him, accept His offer, and then,learn from our experience.

Definitely, Rocky Road is the best!

Everybody may leave you but He never will for He has said, “I WILL NEVER LEAVE YOU, NOR FORSAKE YOU” (Hebrews 13:5)