Published in the Literary Tuesdays of Mountain Beacon
Code Blue
My beloved is loving again.
Not with my letters.
Not with my pictures.
But with that Emergency Room.
Again.
SLEX
I do not know how to drive. But that night, I have found out two things: (1) You hear the need to change oil by the engine hum; and (2) In this expressway we overtake on the left. After being alone for years, you let those cars passed, while I sit with this stillness, letting the roaring cars deafen our stable hum. At that moment, we have created our own little bubble floating in its own pace. Inside are two overaged high schoolers feeling nervous and giddy when they clasped each other’s hands for the first time.
Eyes are on the road while our ears are seizing the all these details: hums, roars, honks… and our beating hearts.
Talking Stage
What constitutes a good conversation? Up to what extent should a talk be THE TALK? Are scheduled questions enough? Are daily updates sufficient?
Should we engage in outpouring our sentiments EVERY DAY?
It is what it is — a routine. A breakout from banality of being Corporate Slaves (capitalized, because CAPITALISM). We do not have to be hipsters and expound the question of:
“Kumain ka na ba?”
Come on! Yes, we do crave connections, but what if the other side is not as eloquent as you? Do you demand an answer in a form of:
“I see a couple focused on their phones as they eat and drink, seeking connections from faraway distances, rather than focusing on what’s 5 inches beyond the handheld.”
Tita na ako kaya HUWAG KANG OA.
“Mamaya” is good enough.
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