Genré Metaphors: Paslit by Genré WUP

Metaphors

Ang Pampantikang Aklat ng GenrĂŠ Anumang bahagi ng aklat na ito ay hindi maaaring gamitin, muling ilimbag, o kopyahin sa anumang anyo at isalin sa kahit anong paraan nang walang pahintulot ng may akda, patnugot, at patnugutan. Karapatang-ari ÂŠ 2020 Pangkalahatang paglalapat | Jayson Gabriel Garcia Larawan sa Pabalat | Jazmin Tumibay Sining sa Pabalat | Russel Manubay Konsepto ng Sining sa Pabalat | Pia Ada Xena Valerio

GenrĂŠ

Ang Opisyal na Pahayagan ng mga Mag-aaral ng Wesleyan University-Philippines, Cushman Campus, Mabini Extension, Cabanatuan City, Nueva Ecija

GF Bishop Dionisio D. Alejandro Hall (Computer Science Building) e-mail: genrepublication@gmail.com facebook.com/genrewup

KWENTONG PABALAT Noong bata ka, naranasan mo na bang sumemplang sa bisikleta? Nakasagasa ng jackpot? Nakipagkarerahan sa kaibigan? Umangkas? Ako, nangangarap na madama lahat ng ito. Gusto kong magkasugat sa tuhod para malaman kung gaano kasakit ang masaktan. Gusto kong makagulong ng jackpot para malaman ang tunog ng kasiyahan. Gusto kong makipagkarerahan para makita kung hanggang saan aabot ang bawat padyak ko at malasap ang tamis ng hangin sa bukid. Gusto ko ring umangkas para maramdaman ang tiwala sa ibang tao na hindi ka ipapahamak. Ito ako ngayon, puro dalangin, pangarap, pag-iisip, at pag-asa, na isang araw, hindi nalang sa pagpikit ng mga mata ko matitikman ang kaligayahan ng pagkabata.

EDITOR'S NOTE Sa buong mundo, araw-araw ay may mga taong ninanakawan ng pag-asa, nawawalan ng pag-asa, at pilit na kumakawala sa mahirap na realidad ng buhay. Isa sa malungkot na realidad ngayon ay ang human trafficking. Naitala na halos 40 milyong tao ang biktima ng human trafficking sa buong mundo, at 33% sa kanila ay menor de edad. Sapilitan silang kinukuha at pinagtratrabaho o pinagagawa ng malalaswang gawain. Sa Pilipinas, ayon sa datos, humigit kumulang 780,000 ang biktima ng human trafficking, umaabot ng 100,000 menor de edad ang kasama rito. Nakaka-alarma ang mga numero na ito lalo paâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t marami pa ring mga kaso ang hindi pa natatagpuan. Ang mga bata ang tinaguriang pag-asa ng bayan. Sila ang mag-aangat sa bayan mula sa pagkakadapa. Sila ang bagong bukas. Ngunit kung ganito karami ang bilang nila at araw-araw ay nadaragdagan pa, paano na ang pag-asa ng bayan kung silang bata mismo ay mawalan na ng pag-asa? Hatid ng publikasyon ang isang kwento na sana ay mabuksan ang isip ng mga mambabasa ukol sa ganitong uri ng pagmamaltrato sa kapwa natin, lalo na sa mga musmos na ninakawan ng karapatan upang mabuhay at maging malaya. Lahat tayo ay dumaan sa pagkabata, sa paggawa ng mga kwento sa ating isipan, sa pakakaroon ng kaibigang tayo lang ang nakakakita, at mga guhit ng isang perpektong buhay. Balikan natin at isipin kung bakit natin nagawa ito. Tayo ba ay nangangarap o tumatakas sa katotohanan? Sa librong ito, sabay-sabay tayo kumawala sa mga multo ng kahapon, sa mga itinali tayo kasama ang mga halimaw. Sama-sama tayong bumangon at harapin sila, burahin sa mga iginuhit ng ating imahinasyon. Sa pagbuklat mo ng mga akda, sana ay patuloy ka pa ring mangarap at umasa, kahit minsan maraming balakid, kahit minsan sarili natin ang nagkakadena sa atin. Hindi lang ito kwento ng pagtakas, naka-ipit sa bawat pahina ang ibaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t-ibang kwento ng pagmamahal, pangarap, at pag-asa, at pagharap sa anumang hamon ng buhay.

HANNAH MARIE OLANDA EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

ART DIRECTOR'S NOTE Colors are head turners, a glimpse of yellows and a perspective of greens catches our attention. This is what the visuals team had come up with: giving aesthetic illustration and photographs to aching reality of our society. Reality blinds us into seeing our idealistic fantasies, it makes us insensitive of the world â&#x20AC;&#x201C; and imagination is our run-away home. Colors interests our environment and our perception, and our team wants you to look at all the possible colors around you. And understand that our realistic inventions may be full of colors, but our truth beholds the gray veracities in this colorful blinding society. Society is a contrast of grays and rainbows, like how what our heart cannot handle recreates another world where we are loved and accepted. And a color is a choice of perception we make. Letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s appreciate appealing colors with painful appalling story of visuals.

ADA VALERIO ART DIRECTOR

foreword

Para sa mga walang matirhan: Ang librong ito ay patungkol sa pangarap, pagtakas, at kalayaan. Tatlong bagay na kung tutuusiâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;y masyadong poetiko at kinakailangan ng tigi-isang libro, ngunit hindi sa pagkakataong ito. Sapagkat dito ay ilalahad ang pagkakapareho ng kanilang pagkaka-iba--kung anong anino ang magisang tumatayo sa kanilang likuran, sa dilim, sa hindi makita. Nakatala rin dito ang mga kasaysayan na ikaw na ang bahalang humusga kung kathang-isip o katotohanan. Sa dami ng mga bagay na hindi pumanig sa iyong mga panalangin, sa mga titik na ipinagbawalâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;nawaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;y maturuan ka ng babasahing ito na umalis at hindi na kailanman bumalik. Sa kung ano man. Kung sisimulan mo nang bumuklat, nais kong ipabatid na kung mayroon mang mundo na umiindayog sa pagitan ng makasariling reyalidad at malayang hinaharap, ito ang nasa pagitan. Ito ang pagdungaw. Para sa mga tulang sinimulan sa paalam at mga tulang pinagpaalaman ng simula, humihingi ako ng tawad. Dahil wala pa ring espasyo ang inyong mga pagluha sa mga susunod na pahina.

athina bales LITERARY EDITOR

KABANATA I

Sabi nila, mayroong manipis na linya sa pagitan ng mabuti at ng hangin. Mayroon din daw manipis na pagitan ang hangin at bagyo. Hindi ko alam kung anong ibig sabihin no’n, naalala ko lang. Pinagmamasdan ko kasing mabuti itong mga bituin at baka matagal na naman bago ko ulit sila makita. Habang nagiging pamilyar sa paningin ko ang kanilang liwanag at mga nagtatampong kutitap, hindi ko maiwasang isipin na para silang mga patak ng ulan. Magkamag-anak kaya ang mga bituin at ulan? Siguro. Baka pareho sila ng nanay sa langit na hindi nagsasawang manganak. Mayroon akong naimbentong laro: ‘Pag nanonood ako, pipilitin kong hindi pumikit. Tititig lang ako sa maliit na telebisyon hanggat kaya ko. Kahit maluha ako, ayos lang, kahit hawakan ko ‘yong talukap ng mga mata ko, ayos lang. Nilalaro ko ‘yon ngayon. Kasi anumang oras, pwedeng--ayan! Nilipat na naman ni Tsong Dado ‘yong tv. Balik na naman sa balita. Balita na lang nang balita! Bakit ‘di na lang kartun? Mas masaya kayang panoorin ‘yon, nakakatawa. Tapos pag sinusuwerte ka pa sa tiyempo, may super powers pa ‘yong mga bida. “Tara na,” malamig na tawag ni Tsong Dado kay Tyang Insiang at tuloy-tuloy siyang lumabas ng pinto. Sumunod si Tyang, walang imik. Nasagot kaagad ‘yong tanong ko. Marahil ay iniwan na rin sila ng pagkabata. Tumunog ang pamamaalam ng kandado, humikbi ito ng kaunti, nais mamalimos ng kaunting kalayaan. Hindi ako lumingon at pilit inalala ang tahimik kong pangako: isasama ko ang kandadong ‘yon ‘pag nakalaya na’ko.

ANG HINDI MAGTUGMA-TUGMANG MGA KASABIHAN

Iniwan nilang nakabukas ang tv. Ipinikit ko ang aking kanang mata, idinungaw ko ang kaliwa.

METAPHORS

Piring Georliza Pascual

Madalas akong nakatulala sa kawalan, sa gitna ng apat na sulok ng silid na nababalutan ng nakabibinging katahimikan. Uunahin bang takpan ang tainga o punasan ang nagbabadyang mga luha? Kumaripas ng takbo kahit walang mapupuntahan at eksaktong kahihinatnan? Sumugod nang walang armas at walang kalaban-laban? Ang mahigpit na pagkakatanikala sa madungis na kalakalan na akala nila ay tama, nag-uumapaw ang mga batas ngunit naghahabol naman ng hininga ang hustisya. Paulit-ulit na tanong sa sarili, kung gagamitin ba ang maliit na porsyento na kumawala mula sa dikta ng mga taong hindi nabahiran ng konsensya, O hayaan na lamang na lamunin ng galit sa likod ng mga rehas na kailan man ay hindi ko alam kung paanong nagsilbing aking hawla.

Piring

Russel Manubay

METAPHORS

The Leaky Roof Levi Bautista

WEAVE THE FLAG Athina Bales

I lie awake in bed, Waiting for sleep to drift me off into a dream. Too sleepy to care for the constant thumping of the rain,

I was in a box. A box as white as bones, A box so cold I once died with my eyes half closed. The miners threw landfill in it, The teenagers didn’t dare open the lid. The box, it was the peak of the politicians’ promises, the people were encouraged to vote. No one knew the truth: Was it the thing outside this space? Or was it this unspeakable horror? Nothing matters. The relevant is already buried. It is always something less. And the killer killed himself. They say the box is clean. Unquestionable. But don’t you forget, The white always comes after the bloodshed. It is the paint covering the terror. The past. The ruddy reality. Peace is Neanderthal, I’m telling you. It is costly to choose. But you can only run; or you resist.

Too tired to do something about the leaky roof. It has been a while since the last thunder shook this house, Yet the booming sound still resonates in my head, keeping me awake. I can feel it still, Sending shivers down my spine and needles in my chest. And when the last lightning struck, the light also left the house as it faded, Into the dark, gloom and cold this house fell. The foundations looked like they were about break in this darkness, Weary from the constant weathering of the storm. As the tapping of the rain and the whistling of the wind lulled me to sleep, I began to dream of the pleasant days this house had seen, Before there was a storm, before there was a hole in the roof. Days when the light still gave us warmth and the foundations looked strong and new. But the dream was interrupted by a drop of water in my cheek, Bringing me back to reality. That there was never a leaky roof for it was our home, not our house that is broken. And it wasn’t raindrops that were dripping, but tears from my unbearable pain.

METAPHORS

IBON NI ADARNA John Vincent Pascual

Ipipikit ko ang aking mga mata. Nais kong putulin ang aking mga brasoâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t kamay At palitan ng mga dambuhalang pakpak Ang aking mga paa, tubuan ng matutulis na mga kuko Bibig yaring maging tuka, At palitan ang bawat buhok ng malalagong balahibo. Humuni gaya ng mga ibon at lumipad sa himpapawid, Sa oras na nilalaro ako ng hangin, pagmamasdan ko ang sanlibutan. At â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;pag hapo na ang aking katawan, Dadapo ako sa pinakamataas na puno, Ipipikit ang aking mga mata At didilat sa reyalidad; Hahamunin ang katotohanan. Daang libong araw na ang lumipas, Pinagkaitan akong maging tao dahil sa pagkain. Ang pagpuslit ko ng kaunting sustansya para mabuhay, Itinapon sa kulungan ng mga gaya kong walang laya. Krimen na ang kahirapan. Kasalanan na ang magutom. Muli kong ipipikit ang aking mga mata. Sa ganitong paraan, nalalasap ko ang karangyaan. Sandaling panahon akong magiging ibon at lilipad nang malaya

Mahiwaga

Jayson Gabriel Garcia

Art by Paulo Supena

METAPHORS

Tem(free)rarily Mark Joseph Nunez

We may never meet again, but for all these, I am more than grateful. I once lived in an awful world– where it’s not safe to say anything; where it’s not safe to do my thing. A world so restricting, a world so dictating. One day, you welcomed me with your world– where my truths are at home; where my truths are at liberty. No pretensions. Just pure bits of honesty. Just pure bits of vulnerability. One day, that same very day, I told myself, “This is what it feels to be free; the start of my liberation to be the truest, realest me.” We may never meet again, but, still, for all these, I am eternally grateful.

Inside Out Michael Roman

METAPHORS

At The Back of The Hall

Fragility

How do we start dancing? Should I walk three steps near but away from you?

I cannot help but wonder, Why I’m labeled as a blunder. I cannot hope to compete with the “smart” guys, When their superiority-complex outmatches my ingenuity.

Clarence Jairra Javate

The music doesn’t have to be a song of love at all, It doesn’t even have to be a dance. Forget the start and ends of every broken romance— It just has to be with you. As I hurtle trying to utter an invitation to guide you in the middle, This room is a hundred wide yet our world feels so little. I know that once you start moving to the sound, I’ll watch the heathens finally believe. And the good and bad will decide to come one together for peace. From there, my eyes will look at yours as if you are the universe I am in. And at the moment I’ll be holding your hand, Perhaps, I am holding a dream.

Dominic Pangilinan

To be blessed by so much, Only to fail miserably when it comes into Confidence… So I lie down and let the cold wind embrace my being— This is my security, my safety. My way of cooling down my hate. I wish to succeed with people side by side, Not to trample and dominate. Looks like I have no choice, But to be selective on whom I must disregard, And to people whom I can be of service.

METAPHORS

“Baliw itong babaeng ‘to.” Sabi ko sa sarili ko. Aalis na sana ako nang muli ay nagsalita siya. “Anong ginawa ko sa inyo para muli ako’ y inyong igapos? Ilang lahi pa ba ang gusto niyong bumaboy at sumira sa aking pagkatao?” Dito ko napagmasdan ang kaniyang mukha. May mapula siyang mga labi, makapal na kilay, bilugang mukha, at mapupungay na mga mata. Ngunit sinira ito ng mga pasa, sugat sa mukha, at dugo sa kanyang labi. Hindi ko man nauunawaan ay nagtungo ako sa kanyang tabi. “Handa akong makinig.” “Marami nang tao ang minsa’y nangako sa akin ng magandang pagbabago. Nangako ng isang magandang edukasyon para kami raw ay mamulat mula sa pagkamangmang. Ngunit kapalit pala nito ay pagkaalipin ng daan-daang taon, at ginamit pa ang relihiyon para makuha ang dapat ay sa amin.”

Photo by Jayson Gabriel Garcia

TAYUMAN STATION John Mark Santiago

Mahilig akong bumiyahe pa-Maynila. Natural lang na makaranas ka ng matinding traffic, siksikan sa LRT o kaya MRT. Ganito ang buhay sa Maynila. Maingay. Mainit. Minsan sa aking biyahe ay bumaba ako sa Tayuman Station, ‘yon kasi ang pinakamalapit na istasyon sa papasukan kong trabaho. May nakita akong isang babaeng nakaupo sa waiting shed. Naka-saya siya at may suot na bakya na halatang gawang Marikina. Kayumanggi ang kulay ng kanyang balat at tila may malalambot na buhok. Nang ako ay lumapit, halatang siya’y humihikbi base sa galaw ng kaniyang balikat. “Miss, ayos ka lang ba?” tanong ko. Hindi siya lumingon o sumagot man lang sa akin. Ngunit parang may mali. May mga pasa siya at sugat sa kaniyang katawan na naging dahilan para ako ay lubhang mag-alala sa estranghera. “Ayos ka lang ba talaga, Miss?” muli kong tanong. Sa pagkakataong iyon ay sumagot siya. “Wala naman kayong pakialam sa akin, diba?” Galit ngunit may halong sakit ang mga binitawan niyang salita.

“Mayroon din naman nangako at tinupad ito. Binigyan kami ng tamang edukasyon, kalayaan, at kapangyarihan. Marami rin ang nakipaglaban para maranasan namin ang kalayaan.” Muling tumulo ang kanyang luha. Tumingin sa aking mga mata at nagpatuloy… “Ngunit bakit ang kalayaan na aming ipinaglaban ay muli ninyong ibinibigay sa mga taong ang pangako ay kasinungalingan? Bakit ang mga niluklok niyo sa kapangyarihan ay ang siyang dahilan ng aking pagkalugmok sa kawalan ng hustisya? Saan ba ako nagkulang?” Naguguluhan man sa aking narinig ay pinilit ko parin unawain, pero wala. Ano nga ba ang kanyang sinasabi? “Tila naguguluhan ka pa sa aking sinasabi,” puna niya. “Marami ka pang dapat malaman. Kaya ibukas mo ang iyong mga mata sa mga nangyayari sa iyong paligid. Magmasid ka. Maging mapanuri. Dahil kayo ang kailangan ng bansa. Ipaglaban niyo ang ating kalayaan.” Tumayo siya at nagsabing siya ay aalis muna. Maghahanap ng katulad ko at magkukuwento ng kanyang istorya. “Sandali! Ano ang pangalan mo?” Tanong ko habang siya ay papalayo. Pilit man ang kanyang ngiti, sinagot niya ang tanong ko. “Pilipinas,” saad niya, “iyon ang aking pangalan.” Ikaw? Minsan ka na rin ba niyang nakausap?

METAPHORS

Naglaho sa Ulap Ezra Mae Dimapawi

Ayon sa sinaunang paniniwala, ang bawat bundok ay binabantayan ng mgadiwata’t engkanto; si Maria Makiling sa bundok ng Laguna, si Mariang Sinukuan sa bundok ng Arayat, si Magayon sa bundok ng Mayon at iba pa. Ilang taon na rin ang lumipas nang magpasalin-salin sa mga kuwento ang balitang may nawawalang mga turista kapag umaakyat sila ng bundok. Marahil daw ay iniligaw sila ng mga engkanto o ‘di kaya naman ay kinuha sila’t idinala sa kanilang kaharian. Ang iba naman ay naniniwalang baka kinain na sila ng mababangis na hayop o ‘di kaya’y natabunan na ng mga bato at lupa. Sagot ko naman sa isip ko ay hindi, mali lahat ng mga kuro-kuro nila. Minsan ko nang nasaksihan ang pangyayaring nagpabago ng buhay ko. Ilang taon na rin ang lumipas ngunit hindi ko pa rin magawang isiwalat ang lahat at baguhin ang mga pinaniniwalaan ng karamihan. Dito na ako nakatira sa paanan ng bundok, namumuhay nang simple at nagtatanim upang may maipangkain at may maibenta ako sa palengke. Sa tuwing may mga taong nagbabalak umakyat sa bundok na tinitirhan ko ay pasimple akong umaakyat upang sundan sila. Matiyaga akong nagmamasid kung ano ang ginagawa nila sa ituktok; madalas ay nakikita ko lang silang abot ang kuha ng litrato sa itaas, minsan ay nagtatawanan at madalas ay mga kuwentuhan sa buhay nila ang naririnig ko. Naging gawi ko na ito simula noong nakalipas na tatlong taon. Mali ang mga tsismis at sabi-sabi ng mga tao. Hindi kinukuha ng mga nagbabantay na espiritung gubat ang mga nawawalang turista. Alam ko… alam na alam ko ang totoo.

Tsaa

Prince Cedie Corpuz

Tatlong taon na ang nakalilipas at hanggang ngayon, ang bawat taong magtatangka na kitilin ang buhay nila ay aking pinipigilan—hindi sa normal na paraan. Hindi sa simpleng pakiusap at hindi sa paghablot ng kanilang mga kamay. Lagi kong dala ang mga tsaa sa bayong ko—inaalok sila ng usap at kuwentuhan. Sa tuwing tinatanong ko ang kanilang mga dahilan, ang natatangi at lagi nilang sagot—kalayaan.

METAPHORS

Darkest Inside Gerald Lara

METAPHORS

IMPRISONED Jenina Marie Lipana

Will you find me a new way from this scary world? Please help me leave this underworld, Be with me until we reach the city of light, So that I can live and be happy until the rest of my life. I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know why Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m chained and locked in this place, There is no door for escape. Please unchain me, Let me run. Let me go.

Jenina Marie Lipana

METAPHORS

Vividly Invisible Alanna Soriano

There’s no second left. You’ve reached your adolescence; through with your ignorance and clear innocence. Plenty of wise words, nice phrases and exact preaches have been roughly cultivated by the parentage you have on your mind that’s supposed to be resonating on both of your ears. Sadly, you never chose to. Millions of seconds have been spilled out by the clock and none of these running pieces have gone to waste. You’ve been warned by your greedy ambience and lectured by your uncertain generation, but I guess, none of these lessons are needed. Mother, I should be over all the silence on your womb right now. But I guess it’s the path you willingly chose for me—to be a fragment of the 638,169 cases of abortion reported on Center for Disease Control and Prevention, from 49 reported cases that clearly show pathetic figures exposing wasted lives of innocence. I have nothing but a chance to enhance myself, but you chose to demolish that instead. Why did you come up to a selfish decision without second thoughts? Why is it today that you have decided to cut the biological relationship we have knowing that I am about to see the world after some count of months? Is it because you belong to the unmarried women accountable for the 86% of abortions in 2015? Or because you’re one of the 1,000 women aged 15-19 registered 11.8% of abortions on the same year? Whatever your reason is, it is clear that I am the victim of this crime. 73% of abortions are performed using curettage which includes dilation and evacuation wherein sanction procedures are being used. However, 27% of all abortions are gained with the use of medical abortion in a record on 2015. Abortion is commonly characterized as a result of the exposure of adolescents on premarital sex. There’s no way for considerations to be excused.

Bloom Ada Valerio

Out of 1,2019 past abortive women surveyed by Guttmacher Institute, 25% of them said that the reason why they end up aborting their child is that they are not yet ready to raise a child. It’s a considerable excuse to think, since the demand of teenage pregnancy is rampant on this changing time but not morally accepted one. Not this time. My dearest mother, it’s a huge dejection for me knowing that you did not stand with me until the end. So if I had the chance to supplement you with an essential query that my satisfaction craves with, why is it now that you have decided not to raise me? Why is it today that I have a life to pursue? Now that there’s no second in my life left, I hope you’re satisfied now.

METAPHORS

Bisita

Ma.Ysabelle Fernandez

Isa itong liham at maaaring hindi ito para sa iyo. Pero pustahan, nakasisiguro akong babasahin mo. Magandang araw. Binabati kita.

Abot-Tanaw Jelly Ann Arceta

Nakatutulog ka sana nang mahimbing. Nakakakain ka sana nang mabuti. Umaasa akong Masaya ka. Lagi kang mag-iingat. Narito lamang ako. Huwag kang mag-alala, bibisitahin ulit kita.

Ako ay itim, Nakahiga sa takipsilim. Hindi lumiliwanag, Isang buhay na pinapangarap. Sa tabi ko, Tanging mataas at makapal na dingding, Isang lugar na lamang ang aking nararating. Oh, gumising na! Sa reyalidad ng pamumuhay, Isang paraan upang tanggalin ang balakid, Hanapin ang aking pangarap, Tulungan na sirain ang kadiliman na sinasapit. Upang basagin ngayong gabi, At masira ang aninong sinasabi, Sa isang libong ilaw at araw na sumasapit Hindi mabilang na panaginip, Sana’y makauwi na, At maaring makamit ang lubos na pangarap Hindi pinipilit na mabuo lamang Sa isang idlip na ‘di malaman ang tunay na kasagutan.

Masarap kang magluto ng sinigang. Ang sarap mong pagmasdan sa kusina—nagsasayaw habang tinitikman ang sabaw. Ay teka, pahigop naman. Alam mo, sana dumating ang araw na maipagluto kita. Magkukwentuhan, magtatawanan at magsasalo tayo sa hapag-kainan. Sana sa tuwing titingnan mo ang repleksyon mo sa salamin ay nakikita mo ako. Kulot din ang buhok ko at hindi rin katangusan ang aking ilong. Nakuha ko sa’yo ang mga namimilog kong mga mata at ang aking maliit na tainga. Idagdag mo na ang morena mong kutis at ang mahahabang pilikmata. Alam kong naririnig mo ang aking pagiyak. Pawang mga hikbi at tunog na umaalingawngaw sa banyo. Nalulungkot lamang ako na hindi kita mahagkan, nagnanais na mahaplos mo at mahawakan ang kamay. Minsan, gusto ko lang ng taong makaiintindi sa akin. Alam mo ‘yon, kahit sana may isang taong magsasabing hindi pa ako lubusang itinatakwil ng mundo. Gusto ko noong maging doktor para sana makatulong sa mga may sakit. Kaso nag-iba. Gusto ko na lamang magsulat. Kung minsan, para sa aking sarili pero madalas ay para sa bansa. Pero siyempre, gusto ko ring maging alagad ng batas at tangkaing tanggalan ng piring ang hustisya. Hindi ko na alam. Ang dami kong gusto. Marami akong pamimilian. Naisip ko nga minsan, parang ang saya na lamang maging bata. Ang saya tumakbo at magpalobo ng plastic balloon. Tapos iiyak ka nang sobrang lakas kapag nadapa ka para puntahan ka at saklolohan. Ang sarap maglaro at pagkatapos lalagyan ka ng bimpo at baby powder.

METAPHORS

Pero hindi naman puwedeng maging bata ang isang tao habambuhay. Nangyayari lamang iyon sa mga palabas. Ang totoo niyan, mararanasan mong lumuha dahil nag-break kayo ng jowa mo o dahil hindi naging kayo ng taong gusto mo. Kaibigan mo pala kasi ‘yong type niya. Malulungkot ka kasi walang nagsayaw sa’yo sa prom at kakabahan ka dahil ayaw kang papasukin ng guard. Maigsi raw ‘yong suot mo. Masasaktan ka dahil hindi ka pumasa. Hindi ka nanalo. Iniwan ka. Nawala ka. Pero s’yempre, lilipas ang araw, buwan at taon. Lahat ay magbabago. Lahat ay maghihilom. Hindi ba? Ngunit, hayaan mo akong tanungin kita, aking Ina. Kumusta ka? Balita ko’y marami ka pa ring itinatanggi hanggang ngayon. At tuwing tatanungin ka tungkol sa akin ay para bang naubusan ka ng dugo, namumutla, nanginginig at hindi makatingin nang diretso. Sa mga taong hindi ko naman nanay pero binabasa ito, paano ba iyan? Sabi sa iyo, hindi ka nakatiis. Binasa mo. Mabalik ako saiyo, Ina. Hindi ko nalasahan ang iyong sinigang. Ni hindi ako sigurado sa iyong hitsura. Lahat ng pagkakalarawan ko sa iyo ay pawang kathang isip lamang. Pasensya ka na kung madalas akong umatungal sa banyo na madalas mong akalaing guni-guni mo lamang. Marami akong pangarap… Pero ipinagkait mo. Ano kaya ang pakiramdam na magkaroon ng mata, ilong, bibig, tainga, buhok, ulo, kamay, paa, puso at utak? Sabi nila, bilog ang mundo. Nakatatawa. Ni hindi ko alam kung anong hugis ito. Paano ako makapaglalaro, makatatakbo, makaiihip at mangangamoy sanggol, kung una pa lamang ay hindi mo na ako binigyan ng pagkakataong maging isang bata? Paano ako matututong magmahal, malalaman ang iba’t ibang emosyon, at magkakaisip kung hindi pa man ako nagsisimula ay tinapos mo na? Oo nga pala, binibisita kita araw-araw. Ganoon kita kamahal, aking Ina. Dito na nagtatapos ang aking liham. Ako nga pala ang dugo’t lamang sapilitang tinanggal sa isang sinapupunan.

Affinity

Yzza Marielle Ectin

METAPHORS

Tristan Dale

Before the Dive Athina Bales

Levi Bautista

I woke up in this paradise. In this small house built at the edge of a cliff with a perfect view of the union of heaven and sea–which was always calm and tranquil along with the weather–and on the other side of this house is a vast field of green filled with my favorite flowers and trees. I have everything I want, could want, and everything they wanted. Yet I lack the one thing that matters. Existence. No, I wasn’t aborted. That’s not what happened. It all started when they met. Two minds full of dreams; two hearts beating the same rhythm; two souls that were just not meant to be. Their love for each other, their desire to live their dreams and their plans for their future created this place. Including me, their planned, named, yet unborn and unformed child. I wasn’t aborted. I was abandoned. Just as how they abandoned each other. I was left alone in this perfect paradise. Too perfect it hurts; everything’s fabricated, everything’s fake. Haunted by the fact that I’ll never feel anything real from this world of abandoned dreams.

I suppose it is the idea of falling. The reality and all the courage gathering up to be a mere decision: To jump or not to jump? The anxiety is as high as the adrenaline, You wouldn’t really know what’s winning. What’ll prevail. Or what will get the best of your gut; Do you want to continue to live? Or do you want to live? Thinking is not hard, but sometimes it is. There are too many choices to weigh that it seems better to not have any at all. Up and above, A jump could mean death. But up and above, too, A jump could mean feeling all the unfelt. Or tasting unnamed colors. Oh, one could never forget the prosperity of every dare. Or how stubborn legs can be. Or the thought of “fuck it” on the first two seconds you finally let go of the ground, And it’ll feel like worry and idiocy and happiness, and after that, regret, and it’ll feel like you’d want to cry but you’re too busy focusing on your shallow breaths, and thinking of things you want to think about before you die, but the fall was too long. And that pause, That is when you feel free.

METAPHORS

“Ayon, oh! Nagwagi s’ya sa trono!” pabirong bati ni Mang Nestor sa akin kasabay ng tawa n’yang nagpapabata sa kaniyang sampung taon sa sarado sitenta nitong edad. Oo, 70 na ang aking Lolo Forever, at kumakayod pa rin para sa kanilang mag-asawa. Sabi n’ya mahirap umasa sa anak lalo at may pamilya na ang mga ito. Hindi puwedeng isumbat mo ang pag-papaaral at sakripisyo dahil resposibilidad iyon ng magulang. Kaya hanggang kaya pang mamasada, walang makakapigil sa kanya na makipagsapalaran sa mausok na kalsada, alang-alang sa pagkaing pagsasaluhan nila ni Lola. Siyempre, hindi mawawala ang taho at isang rosas bilang araw-araw na pasalubong ni Mang Nestor sa kaniyang “dapit-hapon at bukang-liwayway” kung kaniyang tawagin.

Biyahe

Russel Manubay

12:00 PM (Kuwentong PUJ)

Hindi ko mapigilang humanga, at maniwala sa konsepto ng habambuhay na pag-ibig, dagdag na paniniwala sa mga kaya kong gawin—sa mga pangarap ko, tuwing nakakausap ko s’ya. Makaramdam ng pagkalinga, sa bawat pagtawag n’ya sa akin ng Sandra—Anak—Anak ko. Oo, dapat talaga nagpapahinga na lang sila sa bahay ni Lola Soseng. Kumakain nang magkasalo, nakikinig sa radyo, nagkakape, at nanonood sa pagbaba ng araw.

Jackquilyn Javate

DTM 142 ang plakang lagi kong nasasakyang dyip, na sakalaunan ay naging daan para makilala ko ang paborito kong drayber, si Manong Nestor ang aking Lolo Forever.

Kaso, hindi. Nandito s’ya sa tabi ko at naghahap-buhay kahit para sa akin, kabisado na niya ang buhay. ‘Yong tipong puwede siyang magkaroon ng isang opisina, tapos babayaran siya sa lahat ng makabuluhang payo. “Yuko lang, ingat sa pagbaba. Terminal na tayo.” Linyahan niya ‘yan—linyahang dama ko ang malasakit sa iba.

Unang kalungkutan nga raw ko ang makitang mayroon nang na una sa akin sa tabi n’ya. Gusto ko pa namang makarinig ng mga biro, prinsipyo, at mapusong pagbabalik-tanaw ni Manong sa love story nila ni Lola Soseng.

Hindi ko napigilan at nayakap ko s’ya nang mahigpit. Nagulat ako sa sarili ko, kaya bumaba ako kaagad. Walang lingon-lingon sumakay ako sa tricycle.

Pasakay na sana ako sa likod ng dyip nang biglang may lalaking nakasando ang bumababa mula sa mahiwaga kong upuan.

Ewan. Nahiya ako bigla. “Yakap lang ‘yon, Sandra. Yakap lang. Okay lang ‘yon kay Lolo huwag kang maeksena!” maghapon kong pampalubag loob sa sarili.

“Uy! Dito ka na,” sabi ng lalaki. Malat ang boses n’ya. Puno ng gasa at langis ang damit at short, pero s’ya ang pinakamabangong lalaki para sa akin ng oras na ‘yon. “Hala, Kuya! Thank you! Gusto ko po talaga rito sa unahan,” pangiti kong sabi at may patapik pa ako sa balikat n’ya para damang dama n’ya ang saya ko. Binalik naman ni Kuya ang ngiti, at umakyat na ako.

At nag-umaga na naman. Hindi pa rin ako nakakamove-on sa nagawa ko. Kaya binalak kong sa ibang dyip na lang muna sumakay, ang kaso lang… Nakaparada na si Manong Nestor at hindi ako makagalaw sa nakita ko. May nakasabit na karatula sa harap ng pinto ng paborito kong upuan: “Reserved seat para sa Anak ko.”

METAPHORS

Living in a Nightmare Levi Bautista

“I love you! And you told me yourself, that you love me back, so why can’t we be together?” You cried as you hug me tight, your back behind the bystanders, some are giving me worried looks and some encouraging ones. “I’ve told you, we can’t be together, we’re not from the same world,” I answered, which earned frowns from the audience behind you. “Then I’ll visit you, every night, or every moment I can get a shut eye!” You insisted. “That’s not how it works; I can only appear in your dreams a few times. Once I’ve reached the limit, I will fade into nothingness, such is the nature of us dream actors, and I can feel that this will be my last time,” you tightened your hold on me, unable to bear the thought of me ceasing to exist, I guess.

Translucent

“Then, then I’ll never wake up! I’ll stay in this dream with you! The real world brings me nothing but pain, after all! You’re the only person who made me feel loved,” I smiled. Everyone behind you smiled.

Yzza Marielle Ectin

This was what I was waiting for, for you to say the magic words. Now, you’ll never be really able to wake up. Foolish man. I, on the other hand, and the other dream actors behind you, will never fade, now that we have a nightmare to live in.

METAPHORS

Prostitutes of My Mind John Mark Santiago

They’re all staring at me. They are everywhere, at every corner of my room, Compressed as they stand behind the walls. I can’t dodge the lustful look in their eyes. Such temptations that even a saint can’t shun. I can’t close my eyes for they dressed elegantly, Offering me pleasure - pleasure that lasts. I start to move my feet. No. I can’t escape their lovely poison. I touch one of them, such temptation that devours my mind, “Please be with me,” I said. “Till the end of time.” They take me away from reality. I see different places while staring at their body. Enjoying every moment of arousal, This moment of climax, a heaven in my view. They offer me words of wisdom like no one else. That’s why I touch them, no, I love them. I will spend my golds just to be with them. They are the prostitutes of my mind.

Affinity

Russel Manubay

Now, come with me! Let’s escape from this nasty reality. They’re waiting inside my room. Ready to undress for the satisfaction of our deepest pleasure. Just be patient; for their body is a collection of pages.

KABANATA II Mayroon akong anim na bagong kalaro pero hindi ko pa alam ang mga pangalan nila, mamaya ko na lang tatanungin pagkatapos magalit ni Tsong Dado. “Pasok!” bulyaw niya, mga matang nanlalaki. Naguna-unahang dumiretso ang mga bata na parang gansa na lumapit sakin. Magkaka-hawak ang mga kamay nila pero pustahan tayo, hindi sila magkakakilala. Bawat pisnging madaanan ng mata ko ay basa-- umiiyak sila ngunit ni isa ay walang ideya kung ano talaga ang nangyayari. Ang alam lang nila ay gusto na nilang umuwi dahil magha-hapunan na at kung wala pa sila sa hapag-kainan bago maghain ang kanilang mga nanay, naku, katakot-takot na pingot ang aabutin nila. ‘Yon nga lang, kahit hindi sila pingutin ng kanilang mga nanay ay malabo na ulit silang magkitakita. Pero ayos lang ‘yon, kahit papaano, para mayroon akong mga bagong kalaro. Marami nang mga bata ang naglabas-pasok sa silid na ito. Minsan lang sila pumasok, minsan lang din sila umalis. Wala kahit isa ang bumabalik. Ako naman, gaya ng nakasanayan na, ay maiiwan at mananatiling kasangkapan nitong lumang-lumang selda; maghihintay, mananalangin. Muli, ako ay nagbalik-tanaw. Noong unang beses kong nakita itong kuwartong apat na taon ko nang tinitirahan, siguro gano’n lang ako kalaki sa batang lalaking payatot. Takot at giniginaw, naghahanap ng mainit na sabaw ng sinigang ni nanay. Pero no’ng tumagal na, nasanay rin ako sa malamig na papag at matigas na unan. Napagtanto ko na baka kasalanan ko talaga kung bakit hanggang ngayon, nandito pa rin ako.

PAGBABALIK-TANAW: ANG HINDI INAASAHANG BUNGA NG NOON

Kasi kung hindi ko sinundan ‘yong mga nagpe-penitensiya noong anim na taong gulang pa lang ako, baka hindi ako nahampas ng latigo sa bandang kanan ng mukha ko. At kung hindi ako nagkaron ng nakasusuklam na peklat, hindi ako kaiinisang makita ni nanay. At kung hindi ako kinainisang makita ni nanay noong hapon na magluluto siya ng paborito kong sinigang, baka hindi ako ang inutusan niyang bumili ng suka. At kung hindi ako bumili ng suka noong araw na biglang akong nahilo’t nadakip sa kanto malapit kina Aling Bebang, baka si nanay na ang ipinagluluto ko ngayon. Pero masyadong maganda ang mga ‘kung’ na ‘yon. Gawin na lang nating ganito; Kung hindi ako naglikot sa parada ng mga makasalanan, baka naibenta na rin ako kasama ng marami nang nauna. Nabalik ako sa apat na sulok ng kuwarto nang marinig ko ang malakas na kalabog ng pinto. Umalis na pala si Tsong Dado. Sa pag-alis niya, kasabay nito ang paghagulgol ng mga bata. Nilapitan ko sila at tinanong, ”Hindi ba sinabi ng mga nanay niyo na ‘wag kayong sasama sa hindi niyo kakilala?”

METAPHORS

SAMAEL Jamaika Gwen Garcia

It all started with your angelic eyes, That caused God to write one of his seven deadly sins. It’s like he made you to be the embodiment of sin and the most beautiful being ever created at the same time. You’re tempting and blinding, yet so peaceful to look at. You’re pure poison, yet I found life in you. I feel restfulness within your comfort – It’s just melancholic that he sent you to me as a gift only to feel love and madness in my head all the time. But, I prayed for you, I dreamed of having you, And I guess this is the price I have to pay for asking a morning star. You’re just there to make me feel everything while you felt nothing… But there is no escape now. Because in this world of chaos, I know, that you will always be my haven.

The Duality Prince Cedie Corpuz

METAPHORS

Mil Flores of Romeo Ezra Mae Dimapawi

I am a lucid dreamer. I can travel places with my eyes closed, I can be with anyone in just a snap, I can be whoever I want to be, and I can control it like I own the whole universe. One time I fell asleep and travelled in someone else’s dream. It was beautiful. I saw a figure of a tall man wearing a white polo in the middle of a garden, filled with different kinds of flowers. I loved it. Flowers always make me happy; they add colors to my life. I was walking towards the guy while picking red tulips, and then yellow, and then blue. I can see from afar that he’s holding a bunch of flowers in his left hand while his eyes were fixed staring at the sky. I have travelled thousands of dreams before but I can say that this one’s my favorite. It’s so peaceful here, and I can even hear the wind whispering and giggling through my ears. I can also smell how the flowers are well taken care here. I still cannot see his face. He had this long, black, shiny hair that reached his shoulders, and he just looked like he’s one of the F4. I giggled at my thought. He was just standing there, admiring how beautiful the sky was that day: it was not that cloudy but the sun wasn’t shining that bright either. I sighed at how he enjoys such beautiful scenery. I was just behind him, only a few meters away and he’s still not moving. He is just letting the wind blow his hair. And now I wonder what he looks like. Does he look like Hua Zi Lei? I walked slowly and start picking flowers again. I was about to pick a white rose when he suddenly spoke, “Do you know how much I treasure this field? Especially those white roses? White roses are one of the most important seeds here in this garden, they’re the only flowers I have ever received my entire life. It’s been 15 years of my being here together with these beautiful flowers but I am still longing for the most beautiful one… you. You are the flower I will never pick, whose petals I will never pluck. It’s been 15 years and yet you are still my most precious one. I am longing for you, my little one. But this will be the only place I can go near you, and you have to go home.”

Dalaw

Julius Corpuz

I am shaking, my tears spurring off my eyes. I am trembling not with fear but with an unexplainable feeling inside me. I realized that I am not in someone else’s dream—I am in my own. He travelled just to see me. I don’t want to wake up yet; I am not done yet, please… I wanted to hold him so I tried reaching the hem of his polo and even the strand of his hair. Then, I woke up, with a heavy chest and heavy breathing. I am groping my chest trying to catch my breath. “I just want to give you the flowers, Papa.”

METAPHORS

Dying Embers Levi Bautista

Is it just my imagination, or do the stars shine exceptionally brighter tonight? Or maybe it’s just because of the darkness brought by the power interruption; the same reason why I’ve found myself atop this roof–lying on my back–deep in contemplation. Ideas after ideas came rushing to me, along with tingling sensation sent by the cold metal roof as my eyes focused on the vast nothingness above. Just then, I’ve wondered… “Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are.” Are you just a great mass of burning gas? Or the remnant light of celestial bodies that died eons ago? Og Mandino, fortunately helped me answer that question, though unaware. “I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness for it shows me the stars.” These two lines from him, though at the surface seem very simple, seem like a meaningful answer enough for me. “Oh, stars! Now I know what you are!” You are what make us look outside the window to see if it’s stopped raining. You are the reason why we keep thinking things will only get better. You are the reason we keep checking our phones to see if our loved ones texted us back. You are the thing that keeps us going.

Like stars, that even though already dead, will still leave a bright light behind, penetrating the dark. And that when stars die, there could be two outcomes: If the star is massive, it will explode in a supernova to be a black hole and in time become a star again. And if the star is small in terms of star size, it will become a white dwarf and eventually, a brown dwarf; too big to be a planet and too small to be a star. When your dreams, your plans, your happiness died, they will leave a ray of hope behind. And the intensity of your desire, your hope, your drive to pursue those things that died, will either be too great you can rise back up again and turn that remnant hope into another star, or lose hope altogether and be a brown dwarf, lost, confused as to what you are and what you want. When the latter happens, a much darker thing could be the ending. Suddenly finding yourself in the dark–cold, alone and wounded–is like being stabbed by a knife at the back. But feeling the warmth of hope, only for it to be taken away by the wind of circumstance, that is the twist of the knife. Being left with nothing but dying embers often makes us just want to give up the fight and let the darkness eat us alive; sometimes dead. Yet, we should also keep in mind that as long as there are dying embers, with enough fuel, we can still start another fire.

You. Are. Hope. Like the stars–appearing only at night for the sun outshines them all– hope only becomes more intense when our light snuffs out and we are left alone in the dark. Our trust that everything would be alright will start like stars, embers reaching out of the dark ‘til our desire for it to happen combines with that trust and turn it into hope that will consume the dark.

Consumed

Jayson Gabriel Garcia

METAPHORS

May Pumukol sa Pipit sa Sanga ng Isang Kahoy Alanna Soriano

May bumaril kay Pipit sa eskinita nila Mang Caloy. Tinanggap ko na ang kaparusahan ng gantimpalang tinanggap mo nang pinili ka ng 16 milyong katao. Sa tatlong dekada, ngayon lang ako nakaramdam ng takot sapagkat sa’yo ko lang narinig ang tapang at malasakit na laan para lang sa mga taong sinusunod at susunod sa loob mo. Ngunit para sa akin na hadlang sa dala mong pagbabago, ikumpisal ko man lahat ng alam ko sa kalakaran ng itim na merkado paniguradong hindi na ako sisikatan ng araw. Mamang kay lupit, puso mo’y hindi na nahabag, pag pumanaw ang tulad ko, may isang pipit na iiyak. Wala mang kanyon o bombang nukleyar ang sumasabog sa labanan ng pamahalaan at ng mga panginoon ng droga, mayroon pa ring namamatay. Siyam na libong mga katawan na ngayon ang pinagpipiyestahan ng uod at ginagapangan ng ipis. Pawang mga nagtutulak at gumagamit ng droga. Ang ilan sa mga ito ay alam rin ang sikretong alam ko. Sa likod ng mga bilang na inilabas ng Pambansang Kapulisan ng Pilipinas ay ang mga taong gaya ko na nag-asam ng marangyang buhay, makakain ng higit sa tatlong beses kada araw. Tulad ko, kaming lahat ay biktima ng kahirapan. Nabagabag ako dahil nasa listahan nila ang pangalan ko. Malapit na. Malapit na. Tumatakbo… Tumatakbo… Tumata…

Fallen Angel Roaila Iniwan

Sa unang putok, tinamaan ang aking paa. Nalaro ko na noon ang lahat ng larong pambata ngunit ang makipaglaro pala kay kamatayan ang nanaisin kong hindi gawin. Tauhan lang ako, hindi ako ang mastermind, p’wede kong ituro kung sino ang may hawak sa akin ngunit nahihirapan ako dahil ang humahabol sa akin ang siyang tinutukoy ko. Mamang kay lupit puso mo’y hindi na nahabag, itatago ko naman ang lihim mo, bakit ako ang puntirya?

METAPHORS

Astral Projection Christian Ivan Pallorina

Maaari naman akong manahimik o kaya makulong kasama ang 42,978 na tagatulak din ng droga. Wala po sa akin ang bilyon-bilyong halaga ng droga at parang awa niyo na ‘pag pumanaw ang tulad ko may mga batang iiyak. Sa isang kantong madilim, natanto ko na sa oras ng krisis kaniyakaniyang laglagan na. Walang kaibi-kaibigan, ni kamag-anak, maprotektahan lang ang kanilang pangalan. Maipanalo lang ang digmaang wala namang katuturan dahil sila-sila rin naman ang magkakaaway at sila-sila rin ang magkakakampi. Sa aking paika-ikang pagtakbo, napahinto na lang ako. Tinaggap ko na ang kaparusahan sa gantimpalang pagkakapanalo mo sa puwesto.

I wanna be free. I want to let my soul out of my body. I want to be on above just like the stars that I see, I just want to rest, even just temporarily. Ever heard of Astral Projection? I think I wanna try it. I wanna leave my body, my life, And I don’t think it’s being silly. I just wanna fly around just like most ghosts do. I can see the fun as I imagine them flew. These crazy things were only thought by few, But at least, I’m just being true.

I just wanted to leave. Even though, I could hurt everyone that I might leave. I’m curious about the thought that what if I don’t live. Maybe there’s no more feeling that can be felt by my heart. If I ever get out of my body, I wish a happy spirit would possess me. My acquaintance will think that’s me being jolly, If that happens, I could also be happy.

Nakita ko si Mamang Maangas, suot ang damit ng katapangan na may matingkad na kulay asul. Ipinikit niya ang kaniyang mata habang itinutok ang baril sa akin. Ang pipit, hindi na makalipad.

Fleeting Michael Roman

METAPHORS

Strengthened by Dreams Annika Eketerina Tugaff

As a kid, I had plenty of aspirations on what I want to become when I grow up. From the most realistic ones like becoming a doctor up to the most absurd ones like being a princess of some unknown kingdom. I’ve experienced it all. The possibilities of what I want to be in the future seemed infinite — a proof of how dreams keep us striving to be better each day. And as I grow older and mature, I realized that the dreams I have will be the foundation of my entirety as an individual and that in order to achieve these dreams, I must be willing to pour my heart and soul in everything that I do. The roller coaster ride that I am in has experienced a lot of ups and downs. Despite everything, I still managed to overcome all the hardships thrown at me by clinging on to the things that keep me alive the most — my dreams.

Just the thought of reaching your dreams seems very rewarding and gladdening. Sacrifices here and there. Days where all you can think of is surrendering to the fight. Giving in to temptation that is failing. Along the way, these thoughts might continue to flood your mind along with anything else. But the best thing to do is just ignore all the negative ones. Never let anything stop you from being a step closer in reaching your dreams. Whether it be big or small, complicated or simple, always go for the dreams that make life worth living.

A daughter or a son, a sister or a brother, a friend, a student, and a person still trying to create an identity of himself; A person who has been stepped on, thrown out, belittled, humiliated, shamed on, and even left out; A person who turned all these devastating scenarios in life to make himself the person who he is right now; A person who continues to thrive harder each day to conquer the path that she chose; A person who continues to see the good in everything no matter what the situation is; A person who chooses to fight the never-ending battle that is life and is fueled by passions and ambitions in his life — this person is each and every single one of us dreamers who continue to prosper no matter how hard life gets. It’s the people you’re surrounded with that make these dreams worth reaching. When you’re tired and weary from all the happenings in life, these people will continuously motivate you to keep on going. It’s the same people who have been rooting for you since day one and have done nothing but love you unconditionally and support you throughout your entire journey. It’s the people whom you can confide in with everything and still accept you for who you are. It’s the people who continues to keep you sane every single time you feel like you’re about to drown. It’s the people that you can be able to call home at the end of the day.

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Freedom Park Levi Bautista

Despite the chilling night breeze, I begin to take my polo uniform off as I reach my usual spot. From where I am sitting–the nearest bench to the public restrooms–I can clearly see the gate, the traffic of people going in and out, and the big letters that spell out FREEDOM PARK. Funny how this very park has become a part of me that I can never escape, the setting of the nightmares and memories I can never be free from. The things I’ve done here will forever weigh me down and the things I have gotten here will forever be the chains on my ankle that keep me from running away, even though all this time, I am holding the key. Because what choice do I have? How else would I achieve my dreams? How else would I pay for my needs? How else would I afford my education? My train of thoughts abruptly trails off as another client seeking for pleasure wishes to avail my service.

Leaving, Living {Free} Jayson Gabriel Garcia

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Lakbay

Francis Balagan

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Fuchsia Jelly Ann Arceta

Kaibigan, ano ba ang katotohanan? Sa iyong sarili, ‘di mo masimulan. Desisyon mo na dapat pinag-iisipan, Noon pa man at wala nang pag-aalinlangan. Sa pagkumpas ng mga kamay, Limang kuwerdas ang nakagabay, Mga paa mo’y humihiwalay Natatakot kontrolin, sarili ay sinusuway. SANDALI, TUMIGIL KA! Tugon ng utak, subalit ang puso’y gustong magbago na, Talentong mayroon na siyang pinanghahawakan pa, Tanging representasyong dahong lanta nagsasabing “Huwag ka nang maalala”. O, binibini . Pagtakas mo sa iyong katauhang sinasabi, Ang tunay o katotohanan ay iyong itinatanggi, Gustong makatakas at ayaw ipagsabi. Maaring sabihin sa pinagkakatiwalaang katoto, Iba’t ibang nararamdaman na lubhang totoo. Hapis sa mga mukha at mga matang naluluha. Gusto mo pa bang makawala? Sa dating ikaw na s’yang maiiba. Ang pagkatuto mo ay mababalewala, Na parang bula na biglang nawawala, Sana’y ipagpatuloy mo na lamang at huwag nang ikaila.

Flunky Ballerina Yzza Marielle Ectin

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The Woman in my Dreams Hannah Marie Olanda

I saw a woman in my dream once. Never once I saw her in my life time. Her hair was the purest of black, with little hazel streaks on the roots. The tips of her hair hugs her chin perfectly like it was always done for her. She looked like an angel if angels are truly human. She doesn’t have a lot of make-up on. Just enough to accentuate her jaws and give brightness to her coffee-colored eyes that seemed to open like daylight. “Hi,” she breathed. She was high in spirit. For whatever reason, I in the dream was so awestruck. I didn’t even know where I was. The place—I’m sure I’ve been there—it’s nowhere really. It can be a school, a hallway, a park, a mall, or a hospital. “You must be the new hire,” she continued and I didn’t say anything. I looked down at my torn stockings and faded coat. I didn’t look interviewready. The woman stared at me, regarded me with those soft eyes. Her face holds a pleasant gleam. Her laugh lines showed when she smiled; I could tell she’s a happy woman. Does she has children who makes those laugh lines so visible, I wonder. She touched my arm. Her palm was warm and soft like a memory foam. “Oh, I have to take this call.” She half-turned away from me. In the dream, I was still examining her. She doesn’t have many creases on her eyebrows and she looked so classy and posh.

Helena

Prince Cedie Corpuz

She had a demeanor that makes me want to bow down like she’s a Queen. She gave off a vibe that feels like she should be respected and heard. “Tell them I’ll be there in twenty minutes. I’m with her now.”

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I found myself walking with her. She wore a Christian Louboutin stiletto that clicked every time she walked. The people in the elevator paved way for her and she smiled politely at them. I followed like a kitten in trance. “Good morning, Miss Ira,” they all greeted aloud. Looking back at the mysterious woman, I gasped. She winked. She was gone. I opened my eyes and saw the same pair of coffee-colored eyes in my dreams. Except this pair of eyes lost some of its life. “Hey, you’re late for school,” she said calmly, touching my cheek with her warm, rough palms. She smelled of ham and eggs and a hint of strong coffee. She wore a faded, worn out shirt I once owned when I was in high school. Her hair was tied messily in a bun. She looked pale and exhausted. I hugged her tight, saying sorry in my head. My father shouted in the distance, looking for his beloved socks. “Get up and get ready,” she said, distracted by daddy’s voice. Off she went to attend our needs, our whines, and our ramblings. I got up, too. A tear falling from my eye. I wonder if she envisions herself as I saw her in my dreams while we’re away. I wonder if that is a probability my mother gave up for family.

Art by Michael Roman

Takas Justine Jade Tuates

“Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!” Sigaw mula sa aking bibig Dahil sa higpit ng pagkakahawak sa aking leeg, Naghahabol ng hininga dahil hawak niya’y humihigpit pa. Habang nakatali ang kamay at paa, Nag-iisip kung paano tatanggalin ang tanikala, Upang ako ay maging malaya. Sarili kong kulungan ang humahatak sa akin pababa “Tulong! Tulong!” Sigaw ko sabay kalabog sa pinto ng aking kulungan. Pilit gumagawa ng ingay, Baka sakaling ako ay maulinigan. Tali sa kamay at paa ay biglang napigtas, Tanikala ay lumipad, Pinto ay biglang bumukas, Kaya ako ay nakatakas sa madilim na kulungan.

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That Guy is a Dud John Vincent Pascual

Every night goes this way, like pressing rewind all over again. I want to close my eyes and shut my system down for eternity, but I fail to do so. Because I am what everyone says: I am a failure with my work, with my relationships, with my life. I am failure even with my own death.

Pastime Gerald Lara

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To my Beloved Malaya Mark Joseph Nunez

I want you to know that you are and will always be my beautiful escape. You are my ground zero. I want to keep you healthy. I want you to thrive. It’s been a very long time. Still, you are as amazing as the old days - just exactly as astonishing as the first time I met you. But, how are you really? It is still so vivid to me how we first met. Three years ago, I asked my mom that I needed time to unwind. I needed time to find me. I packed my things bringing limited clothes and food with me and some extra money – you know, just good enough for my three-day solo “adventure”. It started with my having no plans at all. Just the thought of finding myself. Just the thought of keeping myself afloat.And so, one of my big wanders in life kicked off. With my being emotionally and physically exhausted, I fell asleep during that very long ride. I failed to ask the bus driver to drop me at the original place I had in mind. It was funny, I know. But at that moment, I knew then what magic really was. It was just so magical that in the middle of my being literally lost, trying to find myself and discovering how free-spirited, thrill-seeker, and dynamic I can be, I would find you. Had I not fallen asleep during that spontaneous, exhausting ride then, would all these -my enjoying the best version of myself- be happening now? I don’t think so. I can still recognize the face of the old man I extrovertly asked. I’d got no choice but to ask him of a good place where I could stay for the next two remaining days and a half of my trip. He introduced me to you. You have changed every single aspect of my life and me. I never knew I can get out of my comfort zone. I never knew I could be as liberated. And, the big part of it is because of you, my Malaya.

Still, I am in awe of your irreplaceable boulders, your high cliffs, your canyons, your trees and creeks, your ranging rivers, and your bridges. I still love your nooks and giant rock walls and pools, and the animals that dash across your obstacle courses. I still appreciate your vibe. Your whispers during my stay still do not fail to calm me. I even recall them during my lonely nights in the city. From the playful sounds of your crickets, to the continual flow of your splashing streams and rivers, to the inconsistent croaks of leaping frogs in chorus. The smells of your wet soil, and your wildflowers and rustling sharp wild grass during the steady midnight still give me these hopeful thoughts of moving forward in life no matter what. Vivid are the memories of the short time and company I had with your little pixies, with your fireflies with their intriguingly flaming points. They seem to be teasing and competing with one another, freely exploring the gloomy sky above; with your hungry rabbits to the longing chirps of your flying birds that are faithfully searching for food. So precious. So consoling. You are the best version of peace and silence. I am still in awe of your wonders, my Malaya. No doubt, because of your beauty, big number of people visited you today. It’s not that I want to sound selfish now, but I just felt a spasm of jealousy. See! Many people are seeing you now. And, I also felt a pitiful of distress. I know how harsh and destructive those people can be. So, how are you really? I know how you badly have wanted to be calm and peaceful and serene. But will that be possible if people are getting destructive? I know how destructing new hikers’ loud party music along your trails can be to you; when people replace your trees to new kiosks selling buko and haluhalo.

No doubt, because of your beauty, big number of people visited you today.

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I know how alarming it is when a place is abusively being turned into a money-making rest. I know you will agree when I say that you get sad about big crowd. We both hate big crowd after all. I know it will sadden you about the crowd, especially when your “visitors” are just there to show off. To take death-defying and Instagram-worthy photos. I know it will sadden you about the crowd, especially when the main reason is simply for them to have something to brag off their Facebook walls. And. Just. That. I know that today obviously, enormously distressed you. Because they just did all that that could make you so miserable. I know that people who visited you today didn’t really care about you. I am sure nobody even dared to know you really well. I shared this to Greta, and she said; the people that visited you today were there for their own selfish reasons. They were there to join the bandwagon, because hiking is, true enough, the vogue today. My heart cries for you my Malaya. I know that you are unhappy about everything that’s going on to you and to your dear sister mountains as well. Are Greta and I the only ones who observe it? I hope not. I want you to know that you are and will always be my beautiful escape. You are my ground zero. I want to keep you healthy. I want you to thrive. I vow not to visit you for a while until people see the problem and until you get better. Until you fully recover. I am making pledge not to see you because I feel like it’s my very own little way of action for your revival. It is the very least that I can do to help save you. It’s time to bring back the beauty that you once used to heal me. The same beauty that you once used to find the most genuine spontaneity in me. You are my dear mountain. You are my home. You are my beloved Malaya.

If I Could Levi Bautista

Smile. For a thousand times, I forced a smile, As another condolence and a tap on the shoulder was offered. They glanced at your peaceful face, almost as if you’re just sleeping; And not murdered. Ever since mother died, you’ve been so close to me, Too close. Too close that I can’t help but feel cheated, now that you’re at peace. Oh father, if I could only bring you back to life. I can still feel your kisses, hushing your little girl, Telling me everything will be alright whenever I cry. Oh father, If I could bring you back to life, I will do it all over again. I can still feel your hugs as you welcome me home, Still feel your gaze as you watch me fall asleep. If I could only bring you back to life, I will do it again. I remember how you chase off guys making a move on me, Telling me that I will forever be your baby girl. Making me swear, That you will always be the man of my life. I remember how it is your smile that I see first thing in the morning as I wake, Then you’ll kiss me good morning. And look at me with your eyes gleaming, Delighted of the woman that I’ve grown to be. I remember how you creep into my room last night to abuse me again, Oh father, If I could bring you back to life, I will kill you. Again.

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Brandon Heights and the System Failure Athina Bales

Hell and high waters came and we just let it devour us whole.

Breathe Free Jelly Ann Arceta

Letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s just go! Be completely clear- hearted, A mortal part, set free, fight off the air. Let it happen, let it leave. Never let fear stop us. What brings us to life and allows us to see, hear, and feel? It is that we are free.

Aquatic Cirque Roaila Iniwan

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Kahon ni Utoy Francis Balagan

Noong bata pa ako, Ang sabi niyo’y mahal niyo ako. Sa mumos kong kaisipan, ako’y napaniwala niyo. Walang dapat atubilihin dahil kayo ang mga magulang ko. Noong ako’y nagka-iisip na, Pinangarap kong pumasok sa eskuwela, Ngunit sabi niyo, “Utoy, ‘wag na.” Wala tayong pambayad sa matrikula. Lumaki akong salat sa kaalaman, Kaya sa pagkakarkador ako namasukan. Sa bigat ng aking dinadala, Lalong nadudurog ang natitirang pag-asa. Kung sa pag-aaral lang sana, ako’y nakatapos. Ngunit ang kahapon ay sa nakaraan na nakagapos. Sa buhay naman kahit papano’y nakararaos, Kahit ang aking likod ay puno na ng hapdi at lapnos. Marangal ang aking trabaho, Kahit madalas ay hindi maganda ang amoy ko. Marungis man ang katawan ko, Taas-noo kong ikinararangal ang aking pagkatao.

Sixto

Clarence Jairra Javate

KABANATA III “Hindi, mali! Hindi pa-ganyan ang ayos ng karton! Itagilid mo para magkasya tayo!” Nakaka-inis ‘tong batang babaeng ‘to, kala mo prinsesa. E mukha naman siyang isda, ‘yong nguso parang tilapia. Matapos tumahan at maghapunan ng malamig na lugaw na puro sabaw, may lakas na sila para magaway. Hay, sana hindi ganito araw-araw. Sinamaan niya ko ng tingin nang makita akong nakatitig sa kanya. Nangingilid pa rin ang luha niya. “E kasi ‘tong batang ‘to e, hindi ako hinintay! Kita mo, nakahiga na kaagad!” Dinilaan siya ng batang tinutukoy niya, naka-pula siya ng bistida at may mukha ni Minnie Mouse sa gitna. Akala mong bagong taon sa suot niya. “Dumusog ka nga jan, bata! Doon ka sa malapit sa dingding!” Sita no’ng si Prinsesang Tilapia, habang inaambaan na niya ng suntok si Minnie Mouse na sobrang makapikit. Kita mo ‘tong si Prinsesa, ‘di hamak na mas bata si Minnie Mouse, inaaway pa. “Hindi ako dadasog! Bakit mo’ko inaaway?” pasinghal na sagot ni Minnie Mouse habang patuloy na kumukurap-kurap. “Hindi kita inaaway, bata, inuutusan kit--” “May pangalan ako! Para kang ‘yong pinsan kong mukhang unggoy, bata nang bata. Ang ganda kaya ng pangalan ko: Edsel! Hindi na talaga kita bati!” Napakasakit sa tainga ng sigawan nila. “Pwede ba,” singit ko sa kanila, “huwag na kayong maingay. Gusto na naming matulog,” ani ko habang nakatingin sa kanila. Tumayo ako mula sa pwesto ko. “Ako na gagawa diyan.”

SI KIDLAT AT ANG BAGONG ANIM

Inirapan ako ni Prinsesa bago ko ayusin ang hihigaan nila. Karton na nga lang, mag-aaway pa. “Ayan, mahiga na kayo.” Humakbang na ko para bumalik nang tumawag sa malambing na boses si Minnie Mouse. “Kuya,” mahina niyang tawag. “Ano po ang pangalan niyo?” Si Prinsesa Tilapia naman padabog na bumiling. “Ikaw muna,” tanong ko sa kanya.

“E sabi kasi ni nanay ‘wag raw magpapakilala sa hindi kakilala,” sagot niya.

batang lalaki pala sa harap ko na sobrang payat.

Ngumiti ako. Siguro ganyan na rin kalaki ‘yong kapatid ko kung nanganak si nanay. Nang mawala ako, buntis siya pero hindi niya alam kung ilang buwan na. Gaano ba kasi katagal magbuntis? Parang puputok na nga ‘yong tiyan niya non.

“Tulog na ata,” pabulong na sabi ni Minnie Mouse.

Simple akong sinipa ni Minnie Mouse. “Kuya, ano na?”

Dumilat ulit ako. “Kung sino ang mauunang makatulog, may kendi bukas.”

Simula ng dumating sila, madalas akong parang nawawala sa sarili. “Ako si Kidlat,” pakilala ko.

Nag-unahan silang humiga ulit.

“Tinamaan ka ba ng kidlat?” Lumingon ako sa nagsalita.

Pumaling na ko sa pader at hinele ng mga boses nilang pahina nang pahina.

Sa dilim, nilakihan ko siya ng mata. “Akala ko ba tulog na kayo? Matulog na.”

Sa gitna ng gabi, nagising ako at tumayo, pinagmasdan ag kanilang mukha at kinabisado ang mga pangalan nila. Para kahit sa pangalan nalang, maaalala ko sila.

Nang bumalik ako para humiga, sila naman ang na-upo at nagdaldalan. Naiinis lang ako. Bakit kasi kailangan pang tingnan ‘yong mukha ko. Ano naman ang kinalaman ng mukha ko sa pangalan ko?

“Nasa likod naman niya, si Kuya Kidlat,” pakilala ulit niya sa akin.

***

Naririnig ko ang pagpapakilala nila. Medyo tiningnan ko kung sino ang nagsasalita para makilala rin sila.

Maaga akong nagising. Tulog pa ang lahat. Wala na ‘yong karton malapit sakin. Napa-bangon ako at nakita siyang nakaupo malapit sa pintuan nitong rehas, nakatanaw sa matamlay na dingding.

“Ako si Parong,” sabi nung isang babae. Siguro magka-edad kami dahil kanina nung nakatayo siya magkasing-tangkad kami. Maikli lang ang buhok niya at puro sugat sa paa.

Nilapitan ko siya. “Ikaw, anong pangalan mo?” Umpisa ko.

“Ako po si Mauricio Bagwis! Pero tawagin nalang akong Mau!” masiglang sabi no’ng batang lalaking naka-puti ng pang-ginaw kahit sobrang init ngayon. Palagay ko, may honor ‘to sa eskuwela. “Ikaw, sino ka? Madaya ka kung hindi ka magpapakilala samin,” sabi nung Parong. Huminga si Minnie Mouse. “Ako po si Princess Edsel. Anim na taong gulang, Grade 1, at malapit na po ang birthday ko.”

“Kailangan kong maka-alis dito, may sakit si nanay.” Buong pag-aalalang hayag niya. Mukhang malinaw na sa kaniya ang nangyayari. Mas may kamuwangan siya kumpara sa mga batang papatulog na ngayon. “Sa tingin ko lahat ng nanay ng mga batang to, may sakit na rin ngayon,” sagot ko. Ganon naman talaga, diba? Pero pagkatapos nilang mag-alala, makakalimutan ka na rin kaagad.

“Ate mo ba ‘yong katabi mo?” tanong ni Mauricio.

“Alam mo naman pala ang nangyayari, tapos nagpapakilala pa kayo jan na parang nasa eskuwelahan lang. Ang dapat mong ipakilala sa kanila ay kung pano tumakas. Kung nasan sila ngayon, at kung anong reyalidad ang nagpumilit dumagdag sa buhay nila.”

“Hindi ‘no! Hindi ko po ‘yan kilala.”

“Ayos ka lang?” Muling tanong ko.

Umangil ‘yong babae. ”ANGELITA! Ako si ANG-HE-LI-TA! Ang ingay niyo!”

“Hindi,” tumingin siya na para akong nagbibiro. “Ako nga pala si Mac-Mac. Gano katagal ka na rito?”

Nagtawanan ‘yong mga bata. Pati ako nangiti na rin. “Siya? Ano pangalan niya?” Bigla akong napapikit dahil akala ko ako ‘yong tinuro ni Parong. ‘Yong

“Apat na taon. Ako si Kidlat,” tugon ko, at sabay naming tinitigan ang malulungkot na bitak sa pader. Siya, iniisip kung mayroon pa bang nalalabing pagkikita ang kaniyang mga mata at ang ngiti ng nanay niya, at ako, naghahanap ng lakas ng loob na sabihing kung alam ko lang ang sining ng pagtakas, hinding-hindi na magtatagpo ang aming mga landas.

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photograph #1: perfume Jessica Maureen Gaurano

always remember the smell of sweat and cheap perfume. every drop gives him joy, every scent means longing.

Photo montage by Aira Wycoco

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Ang Huling Tagay sa Alak Levi Bautista

Hollows Athina Bales

No one’s gonna take you home tonight. So hail a cab and tell the man you live in Mayfair at the 43rd— A little help to get you home quicker. After then you could die at the dark of your room. The classic. Or, You could walk. You could grab your coat out of the funeral and just wander around streets. Look people in the eye and see how much they replicate yours: No one’s gonna take them home tonight either. Let the smog make your skin bubble up with eerie, Wait until your coat seemed useless, and that’s when you’ll feel it, again. His hand, holding yours. His lips in it. You’ll witness every single moment you’ve walked the street you’re walking by with that same beautiful man at once. Ever laugh, And quarrel. All the promises, and all the dreams— A tear will escape your sturdy eyes that were ever angry and left alone. And as that single drop of amendment glides across your cheek, You will finally ask the British stars why. And then you’ll cry. Far from the stealth of your room’s hollows. London has always felt right, But, I guess, not tonight.

Nanginginig pa rin ako sa takot at pangamba. Sa tuwi-tuwinang may dadaan na motorsiklo sa labas ng bahay ko, sisibol muli ang kakaibang kabog sa aking dibdib at ako’y sisilip sa kurtina ng bintana na para bang may pinagtataguan ako. Hindi naman ako dapat matakot dahil wala akong ginawang masama. Hamak na nagtitinda lang ako ng kung anu-ano para may pangtustos ako sa gatas at pagkain ng pamilya ko. Ngunit, nagbago ang lahat nang may bumisita at pilit na nagsakay sa akin sa kotse. Dinala ako sa isang liblib at masukal na lugar, pilit pinapaamin sa kasalanang hindi ko naman ginawa. Pilit pinapaako ang mabigat na paratang na wala namang konkretong dahilan. Nagmakaawa ako, lumuhod at lumuha. Pilit na hiningi ang awa para sa buhay ko. Hindi naman ako dapat matakot, pero natatakot ako para sa pamilya ko. Paano kung sila ang balikan? Paano kung sila ang pagbalingan ng kung anumang balak ng mga masasamang tao sa harap ko? Buong lakas akong bumangon at pinilit na takasan sila, ngunit dahil sa mga nanginginig kong tuhod ay nahabol din nila ako. Pilit na pinaamin sa mga bagay na ni sa hinagap ay hindi ko magagawa. Nangako sila na kung aamin ako, palalayain nila ako. Desperado ako. Isa akong ama, isa akong asawa, mas iniisip ko ang kapakanan nila kaysa buhay ko ngayon. Nag-abot sila ng basong may lamang alak. Nanginginig at dahan-dahan ko namang kinuha iyon. Amoy na amoy ko ang tapang ng alcohol sa basong hawak ko. Ininom ko nang diretso ang laman nito. Pagod na pagod ang katawan ko, ngunit tinupad nila ang pangako nila. Nakauwi ako sa aking pamilya. Nakauwi ako sa kanila, ngunit ang pagkakatakas ko mula sa bingit ng kamatayan na iyon ay magbubukas lang pala ng panibagong impyerno sa akin. Ramdam kong may humintong sasakyan sa labas ng aming bahay. Nakarinig din ako ng pagkatok galing sa labas ng pinto. Sila na iyan. Alam na alam ko. Amoy ko ang nakakasulasok nilang pagkatao. Ngunit huli na sila. Naunahan ko sila. Tagumpay kong natakasan ang mga mababangis nilang kamay. Ang tanging naabutan nalang nila sa pagbukas ng aming bahay ay ang walang buhay kong katawan.

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Painstaking Roaila Iniwan

Sweet Cruel Daydreams Melvin Clarence Dowes

Sometimes, we fall in love with someone who doesn’t even know us; we fall in love with someone unreachable and forbidden. And because there’s an invisible wall between you and that person, all you can do is to dream and imagine a life with him. You’re creating a world in your mind where both of you were living happily and cherishing every second together. You’re writing your own love story where you both love each other and no amount of curses, uncertainties and tragedies could break you both apart. Every day, you’re making him as your motivation. And every night, you’re visiting the world you made up in your head again and wishfully thinking that all of it could be true. Little you didn’t know that your feelings were growing more intensely as every chapter of your love story flashes on your mind. But do you think it’s a real love? That you can only feel his love in your imagination? If you truly love someone, you should do everything and exert much effort to make him fall in love with you too. You should not stupidly stand there alone again and watch him fall for someone else. Make him feel you the love you’re longing for. Because if you’ll only rely on your daydreams, it’s definitely not love— you’re only in love with your imagination.

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An Invite Athina Bales

It’s not odd for me to stand in front of the mirror at 3 in the morning. Trying times— Early dawn has found me here every dying night, Almost. And the thick air has become so familiar that it just stays still, Watching me struggle to heave one breath after another while staring intently at the mirror; That wholesomely shiny mirror. But somehow, all that I manage to see is a broken face of a broken girl with so much broken memories. She makes my eyes sore. Now if you do find my early morning activity strange, Here’s a fact: I am waiting for the devil. I am waiting for his horn, his giant fork, his evil tail that all screams blood— I am waiting for hell. I have long been praying to have a conversation with Satan. I want to present myself as a humble sacrifice. Partly to die, but not just that. I’m kind of hoping that if he does take me, I’d ask him to dwindle my mom’s troubled soul a bit. To make her mind much less anxious— Enough for her to sleep soundly at night; I’d ask him to give my dad an unbothered ego, I’d want him to think more about himself; I’d ask him to have my eldest sister come home again, And to heal my other sister’s wrists, I’d ask him to teach my brother how to fall in love— I’d gladly be on my knees, begging, For him to make them forget how cruel the world is. I promise to burn worse than hell to give these people a bearable lifetime. And I know I’m not worth much, But desperation feeds evil— Mine would make the fiery pit combust with the worst kind of swirl. Perhaps, this is the devil’s one-way ticket to salvation.

Beezelbub

So if you do see him, Tell Satan that I’ll always be waiting. In front of the mirror. Before dawn.

Prince Cedie Corpuz

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Papunta sa Kalayaan Gerald Lara

Foreign Escapade Jazmine Tumibay

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11:20 AM (Kabata) Jackquilyn Javate

Balikat ni Tatay ang pinakamadalas kong unan. May kalikutan nga lang dahil sa hindi na gumaling-galing niyang ubo at malimit na pagmamaneho tuwing dinadalaw ako ng antok. Nakareserba na para sa akin ang maliit na upuan sa gitna ng van, na kulang na lang ay lagyan ko ng pangalan, baiting at seksyon. Amber D. Pastrana, grade 3-2, parang ganiyan. Saka nga sana pirma, kaso wala pa ako noâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;n. Nahihirapan pa akong gumawa. Feeling ko nga mayaman ako kapag sinusundo ni Tatay, naka-van e. â&#x20AC;&#x153;Pipip! Tabi kayo. Sasakay na ang pasyente!â&#x20AC;? Harot sa akin ni Geoff na araw-araw akong inaabangan sa harapan ng gate. Drayber kasi si Tatay ng ambulansya ng barangay namin. Kasa-kasama niya ako sa paghahatid ng mga may sakit sa pampublikong ospital sa Cabanatuan. Parit-parito kami lagi ng tatay sa lansangan kahit pa alasdos ng madaling-araw. Magtatatlong taon na rin kaming ganito. Nasanay na sa mga hagulgol. Wala na akong nararamdamang takot sa dugo. Nakondisyon na rin ang isip ko na lahat ay mamamatay. Rush hour (Unang English na nalaman at naintindihan ko). Isinugod namin si Tatay ni Kuya Bal, bandang alas-singko ng hapon. Hindi magandang oras para mag-agaw buhay. Hawak ni Nanay ang kamay at supot na sumusuporta sa paghinga ni Tatay. Habang ako naman ay nasa upuan ko, at itinuturo kay kuya Bal ang mga posibleng shortcuts. Ang kaso lang, kahit anong todo na ng signal ng ambulansya namin na sinabayan pa ng walang tigil na busina, ay hindi pa rin matinag ang ibang mga sasakyan. Hinihintay pa kaming lumapit bago lumihis sa daan. Inilabas ko na ang ulo ko sa bintana para sumigaw kahit pa pabulol-bulol ang salita ko bunga ng matinding pag-iyak. Ang hirap baguhin ng isip ng tao. Ang alam kasi nila kung hindi politiko, pamilya ni Mayor, at gulay lang ang laman ng ambulansya.

Alaala

Julius Corpuz

Hindi ko sila masisi. Pero hindi rin nila ako masisisi kung palagi kong maisip na buhay pa siguro ang tatay ko ngayon kung nagbigay daan lang sila kaagad. Ang bata kong natutong magkahinanakit sa mundo. Kaya panahon lang ang makakapagsabi kung kailan ako maghihilom at lalaya.

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High Athina Bales

Up, and up, and up, And up until I couldn’t feel a single atom. The single atom being that unseen abstract that too often weighs more than my heart. It fleets above my head: It refuses to go away, And I couldn’t get away. Fom this. From this one single atom that weighs more than my heart. Spinning and winding, So fast. I’ve tried everything to Make it pass— I became a scientist to dissolve this atom. To lessen the weight of this anti-smile matter: How is it so wrong to wish for this heavy heart to feel right? No wonder my mom left. And my dad chose to go. With this atom, I’ll never be a home. But as my irises playfully skimmed the sky, Legions of cool colors astonishingly blended with warm ones; Yellows after oranges, and blues over silvers-I don’t even need to hear what it says. From morning until the skies turned black, I watched how it carefully put itself together. Ever so beautiful, Ever so indescribable. The question: And why can’t I do that? In pure awe, I just looked up And up, and up, and Up, until I couldn’t feel a single atom.

Everybody Loves Love and Violence, but I Don’t Want It Jamaika Gwen Garcia

“As he caress my soul tonight, that’s when I know that I was lost in his abyss forever…” That’s what an in love person would write. “And whoever finds calmness in the midst of this bloody war – corruption, deaths, unjust system…” The writer probably has a lot of going in his mind and wants violence. And if you want to write about both – that’s chaos. But can we all just stop for a while And think about the first candy you’ve ever tasted, The first wound you experienced, And the first street game you won… ‘Cause all I can hear, All I can read, And all I can breathe these days, Is either love or violence, But I don’t want it. I just want to sleep on our sofa tonight, And wake up in my bed next thing in the morning. Please, let me have my childhood back.

METAPHORS

Hakbang Justine Jade Tuates

Isang maikling hakbang ang sinimulan, Ngunit lumalaki habang ika’y lumalaki nang may natututunan. Minsan nakakapagod dahil sa sobrang bigat, Ngunit ‘di pwedeng tumigil kahit may nakasakay sa balikat. Unang hakbang habang sinisimulan isulat ang kapalaran, Tinatantya kung gaano ba kahaba ang dapat lakaran. Iniisip kung iyon na nga ba o hindi pa, Pero pilit kakayanin hakbangin ang hagdan kahit paisa-isa. Malapit nang maabot ang rurok, Ngunit madami pa ring dumadating na pagsubok. Pero iyon na ang rurok ng tagumpay, Kaya’t ‘di titigil dahil hindi na ako makapaghintay.

Sulyap

Jazmine Tumibay

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Expecto Patronum John Vincent Pascual

Born and raised in misery, Poverty holds me oh so dearly. I worked my way up, Yet reality is too playful. The pull down was stronger than my resolve: This is the game that I am destined to lose. There is no exit, No game over. Just plunging in the unending pitfall. If YOU are real, Release me from these binding chains.

Breakfree Julius Corpuz

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4W’s, 1H Levi Bautista

They’re all living in a cage with the doors wide open…

When?

Who?

When we finally learn to let go of our insecurities and the things holding us down.When we finally broke free from the oppressive society that controls us through their silent prejudices and loud criticism. When we finally learn to decide, act and speak for ourselves without thinking about other people’s comments. When we finally learn to break down the wall that we’ve built and open our wings at their glory for everyone to see. Freedom is when we stop deceiving everyone, especially ourselves.

We are. Oppressed, chained, shackled, caged—no matter what you call us, we are all the same. We all crave something already at arms’ reach, yet we are afraid to take it, afraid that those watchful eyes will bare their teeth at us. All aware that the thing we crave is but a poison in an attractive bottle, yet we still want it badly. That thing called… What? Freedom.

How? Seriously? You’re still asking, how? You just have to stop pretending to be a chained bird with broken wings and fly right through that open door.

But what exactly defines freedom? Is it when we express ourselves without limitations and holding back? When we do everything without laws and rules? Is the freedom we crave now the same as the one people died for in wars? Is it really worth the fight? When we can’t even break free from the chaotic and ironic prison built at… Where? Ourselves. It’s just a paradoxical oxymoron hoe people–we people–want freedom so badly, to the point that they’re fighting those pointless wars. When we, ourselves, are the ones holding us back. Limiting our actions and words to try and please everyone, to look good or to fit in. We all wear masks then cage who we really are, until we grow a face to fit those masks and forget who we really are. And until we stop wearing that mask, freedom will remain out of grasp. It will only be on our palms at that moment…

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Kapag Lipas na ang Pakinabang Levi Bautista

Kailan tumatalino ang mangmang? At kailan nagiging tanga ang may utak? Sabi nila, wala raw taong bobo, Kaso napaisip ako: Anong tawag sa taong tulad mo? Ibinoto mo ang mga maling tao, Tapos hihingi ka ngayon ng pagbabago? Wala kang karapatang umiyak, Pagkat binayaran ang iyong integridad. Magdusa ka ngayon at pagmasdan Ang pagtaas ng krimen at kahirapan. Hindi ka ba nasasaktan? Ang mga tulad mong dukha Ay mananatili sa laylayan. Isa kang hangal at idyota. Nanloko at nagpaloko para sa kaunting halaga. Maninisi ka na naman pagkat ika’y pinagkaitan. Sabi mo ang may-kaya ay naghahari-harian. Muli mong tatanungin ang sarili sa kawalan. Hindi mo inisip ang kahihinatnan ng bayan. Paano kung pareho kayo ng iba pang mga Juan? Hindi kayo kailangan ng Pilipinas. At hanggang ngayo’y hindi ko alam ang dapat itawag sa’yo. Sabi niyo’y wala kayong mapupuntahan. Kaya naman tinalikuran niyo na lamang ang saraling bayan. Hindi niyo kamo alam kung ang sikmura’y malalamnan. Pinaiiral ang katamaran at mga kamalian. Ang akala’y pinagana ang katalinuhan. Kailan tumatalino ang mangmang? At kailan nagiging tanga ang may utak? Pero ano nga ang tawag sa tulad mo? Nagsulat ka ng mga karakter sa noo— “Isa akong tuta ng gobyerno.” Pinagbawalang tumahol at sumaklolo. Tapos na ang eleksyon at lipas na ang pakinabang mo.

Serendipity

Athina Bales

If I had a better choice than to write this one, you wouldn’t be reading it right now. Because you should’ve seen her on that bus ride yourself. How she had a small forehead creased with adventure, How her eyebrows were darted upward with something that looked like questions, but not so tight as to look like she’s worried: the right amount of awe. With her cheeks fluffy and reddish, Cramped with the widest curve of her lips; Some of the moments, she forgets to close her mouth. I saw her whisper some long “shit” in her crooked teeth. I smiled to myself. She was something. And her eyes. Oh, man, her eyes. In the 19 years I’ve walked this earth of beautiful, beautiful things, I couldn’t think of anything that’d parallel those circles of almond depths. I could hear them singing in wonder-They looked like freedom given by the angels. You don’t just come across with someone like that. Looking at her, Only looking at her on a bus made me lose myself in a place where, for the first time, I wanted to stay in. If I could only write.

METAPHORS

FORBIDDEN Jenina Marie Lipana

I am tired, I am hurt. My eyes are blurred, I am so weak to even fight for our own will. I wish we could find a new world, where we can show each otherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s love, away from judgmental people, away from dictators. Art by Russel Manubay

So Long Soldier John Vincent Pascual

Wrist with crimson stains, The heart slowly beats no sound. Afterlife awaits.

METAPHORS

Their lips. They look pretty because they know what kind of lipstick is appropriate to use for a certain show. It’s astounding because they seem to have mastered wearing a Matte lipstick. They know when it’s the time to wear subtler shades than a blingy one. Their hair and their face. They look pretty just on how they carefully fix their hair or put make-up on their face. From their hair twists, to their pixie cuts, and to their braids. They look pretty just observing their applying their eye shadow, to their eyeliner and up to their rogue. Their locution. How I wish I could be one of those people who laugh and talk for hours without stopping. Wouldn’t it be nice to have that? But what else can I do? I mostly just hide in the back of class and try not to draw attention to myself. Doing nothing so I won’t be noticed. I’d like to go in the water, but, I know, it’s not going to be easy. It’s not going to be easy for I can’t stop but look at all the pretty things my friends have. Art by Russel Manubay

Their body. Wait, what? Their body? Oh, yes, their body. I am now 20. I am doing, and seriously trying, my very best to convince myself that we’re all beautiful in our own way.

Princess Ariel 2.0 Mark Joseph Nunez

Little by little, I’m wearing less black. I never got used to wear colors because they emphasize one’s curves. But now, little by little, I am wearing colors. Something vibrant. Something “brave.” Something I really want.

I’d like to go in the water, but, I know, it’s not going to be very easy.

In fact, I wore a dress recently. Not to school, of course, but to dinner with my grandparents. It was pink and had purple flowers. I felt really lovely.

I haven’t been to a beach in over five years now. Sure, I did go once, but I decided to just sit on the shore and watch over everyone’s stuff.

They say great things won’t happen when you are always in your comfort zone.

The water was such an important part of my childhood. In fact, we had a little beach house where we’d go every summer. For many years, it had become my local playground. So, it’s clear! I dearly miss the beach, my playing field.

So, this time, I’d like to go in the water... wearing a swimsuit. If I can do that, and have the time of my life, and feel that I am allowed to show myself – my insides and outsides – then I’ll know I’m finally where I want to be.

And needless to say, my dream is to eventually go back to the water. I’d like to go in the water, but, I know, it’s not going to be easy. It’s not going to be easy for I can’t stop but look at all the pretty things my friends have.

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KKK

Gerald Lara

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BFG Mark Joseph Nunez

To be trapped for some time is okay. But, to be trapped forever is a big no. Because, it’s not fair when you are someone’s escape yet you - caged and restricted - can’t enjoy and can’t have your own version of it. Our encounter may soon come to an end, but remember that I will endlessly love to see you braving and enjoying the most natural, truest form of your freedom. It’s not that I already knew I’d choose to fight for you. I had no idea what your state was. I was just one of many people choosing to enjoy your facade. But as time passed by, as I grew up, our every interaction became meaningful to me. What could be more wonderful just by observing your modest, purest, most innocent actions and silence? You’re smart. You learn so quickly. Your eyes are enchanting just as enthralling every time I look at you each visit I do. The way you interact to other people. The way you entertain them. It’s priceless. It’s funny how at least my soul can jive into you. These are the whys that helped spark my exploring who and what you really are. As I’ve started unravelling you, my knowledge and understanding of your roots get even broader. As we get closer and closer, I’ve realized that your state is seriously dreadful. It’s depressing.

Four decades of suffering. Four decades of continual languish. And clearly, you don’t deserve that. So as a promise, I joined the action concerning you. It took me more than half a decade of fighting and praying for your release.

And clearly, you don’t deserve that.

Then one cool daybreak of January 23, a day before my birthday, as I was doing my morning ritual and was swiping on my phone, I’ve learned the news about you.

But what else can you do? You’re hopeless. Limited. Helpless. Unheard. One way, naturally neglected.

“One of the world’s loneliest elephant, the only captive elephant in the Philippines, after the zoo was closed to the public, was set free.”

You have probably led a sad life in captivity. Alone. With no other company but yourself. Obviously chained in a world where no one understands how you really feel. You know it’s not always okay comforting yourself, but you did it anyway…

Although you were once refused of liberty to live the most natural you can be, I am now at peace because you’re finally going home. And that’s one of the best birthday gifts I’ve ever received.

Because, again, what else can you do? You’re hopeless. Limited. Helpless. Unheard. One way, naturally neglected. I just can’t help but imagine what the last four decades have been like for you. The misery. The boredom. The loneliness you have endured each day.

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Art by Paulo Supena

Slowly, you’re becoming your you that you should’ve been a long time ago. My dear Mali of Manila Zoo, my Big Friendly Giant, though it took you so long, I’m more than happy that you’re really closer to the life you deserve.

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Sabik Laarni Bernanrdo

Nagpipigil, nagtatago, Nagkukulong sa damdaming ayaw isuko. Nagmamagaling, nagmamalakas, Baka sa isang ngiti ako’y makatakas. Ang lungkot ko’y hindi alam kung saan nanggaling, ‘Yan tuloy alisin ko ma’y saan ililibing? Sarili ko’y saan hahanapin, Ni hindi alam, mapa ko ba’y baligtad na rin? Tulungan mo naman akong makabalik Sapagkat ang pagkatao ko’y sabik na sabik. Na pumaibabaw sa hanging nakadadala, Na matulog muling ang unan ay di nababasa, Na sumayaw na muli sa tugtog ng musika, Na damhing muli ang pusong malaya.

Unwind

Jazmine Tumibay

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In A Small Corner Jessica Maureen Gaurano

There’s this small corner in the classroom where I always sit. It doesn’t really matter if it makes me look like an outsider. In that corner, I built a world of my own, away from conversations about people, homework, and the pressures of the championship game. Before I occupied that space, nobody dared to sit in that small corner. For them, the corner meant that you’re a loner or a loser. But like I said, it never mattered to me. One day, my childhood best friend entered the room. We haven’t really spoken to each other in almost eight years. Though, I’m not sure why we drifted apart. He never moved away to another city and I never started a fight. I guess maybe change is just tricky like that. It will continue to roar louder in the presence of time. I wanted to come to him, to save him from the awkwardness. But I didn’t move.

I looked up and he was still there by the door. Not moving. He looked away then slowly made his way towards the room. At first I thought he was finally going to give up our staring contest and move on with his life. But I was wrong. He was slowly walking towards my seat. Nervously, I took out my phone and pretended to text someone. In a matter of seconds, he was already standing beside me. Nobody ever notices me in my small corner. Nobody stares at me from across the room. Nobody makes their way to talk to me. I was used to go about unnoticed. But this boy, the moment he walked in, I was the first person he saw.

I was scared of having to step out of my small corner, not knowing if he still remembered the sleepovers and the little tent we made when we were seven years old.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked in a soft and quiet voice. Putting my phone back in my bag, I looked up and saw that he was pointing at the unoccupied seat beside me.

Then something unexpected happened. He spotted me from across the room. Suddenly, our eyes met and it stayed that way for a while. At that moment, I was trying to figure out if he remembered me or if he was trying to figure out who I was. I opened my mouth to speak, daring him to come to me, but no words came out. Then a few seconds later, I pressed my lips shut and looked away.

Before I could answer, I thought of all the things that could happen if I answered him. This situation may seem trivial, but I would be risking a lot letting him in my little corner.

However, I can still feel his gaze on me. That’s when I realized that he actually recognized me but both of us are unsure if we remembered. Nobody made the first move. I wanted to. But a lot of things scared me. Doubt stared me down. I tried to divert my thoughts into something else. I wanted to think about the professor who was running late to class. But somehow my mind raced back to him.

Suddenly, I had an epiphany. In that moment, the consequences didn’t matter anymore. Doubts may be still there but regrets began to frighten me more. Then, I was reminded of all the things the things that I could’ve been if only I took the first step. This was my second chance at friendship and I was not going to let it pass. Maybe change would be fair to me this time. I gave him my sincerest smile as I replied, “No. It’s not.”

I admit it gets lonely sometimes, being in my small corner. However, I’ve already fought and lost battles in my lifetime that I was scared to take any chances.

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ARROW HEAD Georliza Pascual

For the first time I look at those windows, I saw stars â&#x20AC;&#x201D; and they seem hypothetical. I walked out of my comfort zone and ended up being stagnant; stagnant in the sense of more than satisfactory, because trekking from different directions without looking at the horizonâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; who knows that it could bring me home?

Art by Russel Manubay

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CHLORINE Athina Bales

You no longer have to worry about me. I made these scars without anyone’s help, Aided them myself. I know exactly how to apply chlorine on the bruises, on the bests of spots. I can buy happiness now: The bottled ones, The capsuled, And though I am truly afraid of needles, a pump in the arm means no more black. I contemplate a lot, too. I realized that one of each vice is good, But two; Oh boy. Two is better. So don’t tell the cops, Or dad. I’m a grown up now, And I choose to make all the bad go away.

Art by Sharina Adriano

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KABANATA IV Nanonood sila Tyang Insiang ng pelikula kanina. Ang natatandaan ko lang na parte ay ‘yong pagsasabi ng “Walang Himala!” ng bida. At kung muli’t-muling hindi darating sa mga katulad kong batang paslit ang tulong, maniwala ka sakin, wala talagang himala. Bakante na naman ang sala ngayong umaga. Nagluluto yata sila ng umagahan dahil panay na naman ang mura ni Tsong Dado tungkol sa “mga bagong palamunin”. Nalalasahan ko na kaagad kung gaano katabang ang kakainin kong lugaw. Ang kasalukuyang palabas sa tv ngayon ay mga payaso’t perya. Nakakatakot ang mga koloreteng pilit pinasisinungalingan ang mukha ng mga peryantes, pero pinapanood ko pa rin. Wala naman kasi akong ibang pamimilian, e. At isa pa, parang may nagtutulak sa’king manood. Iba na talaga ang nagagawa ng walang magawa. May tumabi sa’kin, paglingon ko, ang pupungas-pungas na si Edsel ang bumati sa aking paningin. “Anong sinisilip mo jan, kuya?” tanong niya, takang-taka kung bakit naka-pakat ang mukha ko sa pader at naka-kapit pa dito. May maliit kasing butas dito na saktong-sakto sa tv nila Tyang. Ang swerte nga, parang magic! Dito ako dumudungaw para manood, para malaman kung anong araw na, kung anong oras na, kung may pagbabago ba sa balita. “Nanonood lang. ‘Don ka na, pangit ‘yong palabas dito,” pagtataboy ko sa kaniya, sa’kin lang tong butas na to, ‘no! “Patinging nga, kuya, saglit lang!” Pagupumilit niya. Ito ang dahilan kung bakit ayaw ko sa mga bata, e! Gusto nilang isakripisyo ng lahat ang mundo para sa kanila. Laging gusto lang nila. “Hindi nga pwede! Katatakutan ‘to, babangungutin ka!” Taboy ko sa kanya habang nginunguso na bumalik na siya kung nasaan man siyang pwesto.

ANG PERYA AT IBA PANG KASINUNGALINGAN

Isang malamig na boses ang sumabat sa usapan namin, “Hindi pa ba bangungot ‘to?” Singit ni MacMac. Naalala ko ang usapan namin tungkol sa nanay niyang may sakit. Natingin ‘yong ibang mga bata. Hindi ako nakasagot. Tinitigan ko lang siya ng masama. Ano kayang alam niya sa mga bangungot, e hindi naman siya ang laging nakaka-sagupa ng mga demonyo ni Tsong? Sasagutin ko na sana siya kaso ayan na naman ang pamilyar na bara sa aking lalamunan. Lagi akong binibigo ng mga bibig ko sa mga oras na kailangan ko nang lumaban. Wala akong nagawa, lalong magagalit si Tsong Dado pag may umiyak. Pinasilip ko silang lahat. Akala ko si Edsel lang, kaso sumunod naman na ‘yong iba pang mga bata. Pati si Angelita. Nakakabuwisit. Dapat akin lang ‘yon e! Dungawan ko ‘yon!

METAPHORS

Tapos na kaming mag-umagahan at nagmumukmok ako sa sulok. Masyado silang isip-bata. Bahala sila diyan hindi ko na ibibigay ang kendi nila. “Kuya Kidlat,” panimula ni Mauricio habang naka-sahod ang palad. “Nauna kong matulog kagabi.” “Kinain ko na lahat ng kendi, ang titigas ng ulo niyo.” Biglang lumingon si Parong mula sa dungawan ko. “Kidlat! Mas ako ang naunang matulog! Sakin dapat ang kendi!” Lumapit siya at naupo na rin sa harap ko. Akala ko magkasing edad kami, siguro malaki lang siyang bulas katulad ng sabi ni Tiyang Isiang. “Do’n na kayo, sa inyo na yung dungawan. Bahala kayo diyan,” walang gana kong sagot. Naghahampasan ‘yong dalawa at nagtuturuan kung sino naunang makatulog. Sumali pa si Angelita at sinabing mas nauna siya. “Ano po ‘yong perya?” inosenteng tanong ni Edsel na mas pinili palang manuod dungawan ko. Tumingin ako kay Mac. “Nakapunta ka na ba ‘ron?” “Oo,” sagot niya. “’Yong perya, mayroon do’ng ferris wheel. Ang ferris wheel, parang isang gulong na malaki tapos mayroon kang pwedeng upuan tapos pag umandar na, iikot-ikot ka, para kang lumilipad.” Huminto siya saglit dahil bigla lumapit ang iba. Nakapa-ikot kami habang nagkwekwento si Mac-Mac. “Tapos maraming ilaw sa perya, maraming tao, maraming palaro... maingay do’n. Pero hindi ‘yong nakaka-inis na ingay. ‘Yong ingay kasi sa perya, ingay ng mga tawanan at maraming ilaw... masaya. Masaya sa perya. Madilim pero hindi ka mag-isa,” tuloy-tuloy niyang sagot. Nakangiti siya’t may hindi pamilyar na ilaw ang kaniyang mga mata. Matapos ay tumingin siya sa papag na parang may hiwaga sa magaras na sahig. “Talaga? Gusto kong pumunta do’n!” sigaw ni Mau.

Another Galaxy

“Ako rin! Ako rin! Gusto ko din don, magpapasama ako kay nanay!” sabik na sabi ni Edsel habang pinipisil ang braso ko sa tuwa.

Gerald Lara

“Punta tayo mamaya!” bulalas ni Angelita. Nagsalitan na naman sa pagsagot ang mga paslit. Muli, tiningnan ko si Mac-Mac. Nakatingin siya sa’kin pabalik. Ang kanina lang na masaya niyang mga mata ay napalitan na naman ng lungkot. “Gusto niyong pumunta sa perya?” Panimula ko. “OPO,” malakas nilang sagot. Ngumiti ako’t isinagot ang laging sinasabi sa’kin nila ate no’ng bata pa ako.

FULL PLAY Jelly Ann Arceta

The open blue sky, Birds are flying high. Soft heart and soul, Let it go and try.

“Paglaki niyo, makukuha niyo lahat ng gusto niyo.” 114

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Absconding Affection Christian Ivan Pallorina

We all go through pain, and we all got different ways how to deal with it. We also got different capacities in enduring pain. Some can tolerate heavy pains that people keep throwing them, and some can’t handle even the lighter ones. Unfortunately, I’m one of those who can’t tolerate pains. I wonder how it feels like to be not so sensitive. To not be hurt by the littlest words. To not feel grudged even in the slightest things. But that’s almost unimaginable. How can I manage to change the attitude I’m so used to? Often times, friends do joke, and their sense of humor is a gas that easily flames my sensitivity. I tried to make myself stronger, but I can’t help but be affected by silly things. It brings too much inconvenience, I know. But it’s not that I want that to ever happen. But for the sake of my heart, I got to make myself tougher. I know I’d be having a hard time doing that. “You know you were my crush before.” “Thank God, I’m not your crush anymore.” That was just a simple statement, but that definitely doesn’t sound so right—or at least for me. What is he trying to imply? That I should’ve not liked him before? Because he won’t consider how I feel? I know I’m totally not worthy of a second glance, but I can’t help not to feel down about it. Perhaps I’m not that attractive to his eyes. Maybe I haven’t even reached the tip of the standard of the girls he likes. That never in my life will he look at my way the way I look at his. And it’s just too depressing to know you haven’t even showed what you got but you’re already defeated. By the persons you don’t even know. He should’ve rejected me before I fall. He should’ve said those earlier. Not when he thought my feelings were over, but little did he know, I’m struggling to abscond this affection that leads me to self-destruction. It’s too late. The damage made was greater than I thought. It should’ve been prevented beforehand, but he let it happen—I let it happen. Despite of being hurt, next meeting with him would be totally casual, as if nothing horrible ever happened. As if I wasn’t offended by his words that marked in my heart. I don’t even know if he meant to hurt me. I don’t even want to know the meaning behind those words. Because if it’s something more painful, I don’t know if I can even handle it. “I love those shoes,” he said as we passed by a store. Oh! Those shoes were so lucky, they were loved. “You tend to easily love things. But how come you can’t like someone who likes you so much?” I asked, looking straight in his eyes. For a dozen girls who like him, he knows he should start at the girl in his front. Hoping he’s not so numb, I know he can read between the lines. “I don’t like you,” he smiled and smiled foolishly. As much as I tried not to be hurt, I was before I knew it. But maybe it’s high time I get used to it. I tried to hide the disappointment in my face, but I am too transparent to even lie to what I feel. I caused the downfall of the atmosphere; one reason why people were uncomfortable with me. He slightly noticed that I was offended. He shook his head in disapproval, and tapped my back thrice. “Chill, that was just a joke,” he said bluntly. Instead of thinking that jokes were half-meant, I realized, overthinking those things would just affect me worse. I’ve got enough of negativity to handle, and pessimism won’t help. Being a martyr isn’t so heroic, it’s stupid. And I wouldn’t be so happy if I drowned myself with all the pain, this so-called affection is causing me. It’s about time I ran away from it. I can’t myself be forever locked up. “Yeah, I don’t like myself either,” I said, referring to how I used to be, before walking away. Art by Russel Manubay

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3:20 PM (Nakikituluyan) Jackquilyn Javate

Nasisilaw na mata. Malalim na paghinga. Naghahating pakiramdam. Medyo positibo, bahagyang hindi. “Panibagong pakikisama na naman,” pabulong na sambit ni Ronie habang bitbit ang bag niyang blue sa tapat ng pinto ng kanyang Tita Mayet—panganay na kapatid ng nanay niya. Kasalukuyang nag-aayos ng papeles ang ina ni Ronie sa Maynila. Gustong mag-abroad. Sinusubukang ayusin ang estado nilang mag-ina matapos iwan ng asawa nang tumamlay ang negosyo nila sa pagtutumana at pagbibiyahe ng gulay. Nakapanghihinayang isipin na ang isang buo at masayang pamilya noon ay pinaglayo na ng galit at panunumbat sa isa’t-isa.

Art by Roaila Iniwan

PANTAY TAYO Francis Balagan

Paliparin ang isip sa kalangitan, huwag ipinid bagkus laging buksan. Ang mundo’y hindi mo pasan, kahit hampas lupa ay may karapatan. Magkaiba man ang paniniwala at estado sa buhay hindi ibig sabihin na dito ka’t doon ako. Bagkus magtulungan tayo, upang buhay ay umasenso.

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Gano’n naman yata talaga, parating anak ang pinakanagdudusa sa huli. Anak ang naiipit sa gitna ng mga desisyong simula’t sapul ay wala naman silang kinalaman. Kumatok na siya sa pinto, bale sa pangatlong pinto. Una sa pamangkin ng nanay niya na si Aldrin – walang asawa, nagpapastol ng mga itik sa bukid, tumutuloy sa isang maliit na kubo sa parang. Kinupkop niya si Ronie sa loob ng tatlong buwan. Sa unang dalawang buwan, payapa ang lahat. Pinag-aaral ni Aldrin ang pinsan, umuuwi si Ronie sa hapon at tumutulong sa pagaaboy ng mga alaga sa kulungan, nagluluto para sa kanilang dalawa, at minamasahe ang Kuya Aldrin niya nang buong tiyaga bago ito matulog. Unang gabi ng Agosto 1, humahangos na kumatok si Ronie sa bahay ng kaniyang kaklase sa bayan. Takot na takot. Nagsasama ang pawis at luha. Hindi makausap. Balisa. Ayaw magpahawak. “Nandiyan ka na pala! Kainit-init sa labas, oh. Kanina ka pa dapat pumasok,” may pag-aalalang bungad ng Tita Mayet niya, na mababakas pa rin ang tuwa nang makita ang pamangkin. “Kumain ka na at iayos mo ‘yang damit mo sa kuwarto ng Kuya Rey mo. Sakto at nasa training pa siya hanggang sa susunod na buwan, kaya solong solo mo. Ingat lang sa mga wallpaper na pader, at maselan ang kuya mo tungkol sa mga ‘yon.” Mga paalala ng tiya habang sumasandok ng kanin. “Sandali at matawagan ko ang nanay mo at sabihin kong nandito ka na,” dagdag pa niya matapos mahainan ng pananghalian si Ronie.

Dalisay ang aking munting dalangin. Pagkapantay-pantay na pagtingin, nawa’y sa isat-isa’y pairalin upang magampanan ang ating tungkulin.

1...2…5 na buwan na rin pala simula nang ihatid ko si Ronie sa mga tiya niya.

Sa mata ng Maykapal, tayo’y pare-pareho. Walang mahirap o mayaman dahil ‘pag tayo’y dinala sa hantungan ni kamatayan, lahat tayo’y lupa ang pagbabaunan.

Gabi nang tinangka siyang pagsamantalahan ng Kuya Aldrin niya.

Sana ay ayos na ang lagay niya ro’n at tinatrato siyang tao. Dalangin ko parati na hindi maulit ang gabing halos hindi ko na kilala ang kaklase at kaibigan ko sa sobrang pagod at paghagulgol.

Sana maayos ka ngayon, Tol. Mahirap makatakas, makalimot— magpatawad pero, tiwala akong kaya mo.

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POWER OF CHOICE Jenina Marie Lipana

Sometimes, we want to just leave the reality. A reality full of responsibilities, obligations and rules, A country full of should and shouldn’t do’s. We can leave by our own free will right? But why do we live under the rules of anyone? We can’t wear clothes we want just because it’s opposite to our identity. We can’t marry the person we love just because we have the same gender. Where’s the freedom with that? Wait…do we even have that?

Takas

Gerald Lara

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Moon Chase Edcristina Salmos

The starry night glared at me woefully. It landed into my once dreamy eyes, That because of missing passion Have gone unfueled. Now enveloped with shame, I looked down with pity at who I am. Only to hear whispers coming from the sky, Telling me that I shone just as brightly as them.

The lamp posts on the streets have never been dim like this. The bag behind my back is as heavy as my sigh that I let out a hundred times.

For the second time around, I felt the sparks that lit my fire. Since then, not minding how breathless I get, I keep on chasing the moon— Even if it seemed high and unreachable, I know that it will never fade up above, For these dreams are always with me, No matter the stubbornness of my fate.

My eyes are blurry, but not because I didn’t wear my glasses. My hands tremble as I look at the result of my papers I worked hard for days and nights.

One thing is for certain: I can chase the moon through hell, If it meant I could catch its glow.

BACK AND FORTH Georliza Pascual

“Is this for me?” I asked myself. Debating against self-chaos on what I should do — torn between taking another path or continuing to pursue the career I dreamed about when I was six. I washed away the tears that rolled down my face as my parents put another tap on my back, as another round of applause from the crowd erupted, when my name echoed in the whole field presenting my diploma.

Art by Russel Mabunay

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Tayog

Francis Balagan

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Sa Dakong Bukirin Jayson Gabriel Garcia

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Going Out With a Smile Levi Bautista

“They say that once you’ve hit rock bottom, there is no other way but up. I beg to differ; you can still go six feet under.” —Boy with a smile cut on his wrist.

Rise

Russel Manubay

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YOSI BREAK Ysabelle Fernandez

Nakakatawa ‘yong tanong mo pero sige, sasagutin kita. Pero, bakit mo pala ‘ko kilala? Siguro, regular ka rito. Oo, sa una, masakit. Para kang papel na pinupunit. Pero, kapag nagtagal na at nasanay ka na, masarap na. Teka nga. Bago ako magkuwento, may lighter ka ba? Ay, hindi ka pala nagyoyosi. Pasensya na, pampatanggal stress ko kasi ito at ayon sa Kagawaran ng Kalusugan, kabilang ako sa 16 milyong Pilipinong naninigarilyo na ang edad ay 15 pataas. Hindi ako nahihiya. Eh paano ba naman - sigarilyo’t alak na lang ang kakampi ko. Sukang suka na ako sa buhay, sa bansa nating malapit nang ibenta sa Tsina saka sa mundo mismo. Biruin mo, pati yelo sa Mt. Everest, nalulusaw na. Parang tanga. Hindi ko alam pero kanina pa malagkit ang titig mo sa’kin. Hindi ko alam kung nagagandahan ka o kanina mo pa ‘ko hinuhusgahan. Ah, sobrang ikli ba ng suot ko? ‘Yan kasi ang problema. Isinisisi sa tabas ng damit ang kawalan ng disiplina. Sa ngayon, tingnan natin kung epektibo nga ba ang Anti-Bastos Law o Batas Republika Blg. 11313. Magtanong ka na nang magtanong. Sulitin mo na. ‘Yong iba nga, nagbabayad, makasama lang ako. Taken ba ‘ka mo ako? Wala akong boypren. Komplikasyon lamang ang dulot noon sa trabaho. Saka, sa tingin mo ba, may papatol sa’kin? Wala na yatang seseryoso sa taong tulad ko. Minsan, naisip ko tuloy mangibang bansa. Doon, kayamanan ako. Mataas din ang suweldo saka malinis ang hangin. Gandang-ganda sa akin ang mga foreigner. Samantalang dito, patapon ako at ang tanging pakinabang ko lamang ay paglaruan at i-shoot nang i-shoot sa ring.

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Tatlong beses na akong nabuntis. Iba-iba ang ama. May kakaiba na naman sa mga mata mo. Nandidiri ka ba? Naaawa? Galit ka? Dapat hindi ka na nagugulat. Normal na lang iyon. Ayon sa Commission on Population, 500 batang babae ang nanganganak araw-araw dito sa Pinas– ang panlabintatlong bansang may pinakamaraming populasyon. Matagal na akong huminto sa pag-aaral, tutal, sira na rin naman ang kinabukasan ko. Pero, minsan, naiiinggit ako sa mga estudyanteng kasabay ko sa bus na nagtatawanan habang nagbubuklat ng libro. Narinig ko pang sinabi ng kanilang guro, “Lahat naman p’wede, pero hindi lahat ay tama.” Wala akong alam sa matematika at sali-saliwa akong mag-Ingles. Siguro nga may utak ako pero hindi ko ginamit. Subalit, gusto kong kuwestiyunin ang guro. Totoo naman na hindi lahat ay tama pero hindi rin lahat ay p’wede. Gusto kong takasan ang buhay na mayroon ako. Gusto kong ipanganak ulit. Gusto kong magkaroon ng bagong pangalan. Ngunit, hindi maaari. Hindi p’wede. Noong una akong napadpad sa lugar na patay-sindi ang ilaw, nasaktan ako. Sabi ko nga kanina, tila isa kang papel na nilukot, binilot at untiunting pinirapiraso. Kulang na lamang ay sindihan ka at gawing abo. Pero noong nagtagal, kapag paulit-ulit nang nangyayari, masasanay ka na lang. Akala mo nasasarapan ka, pero ang totoo, manhid ka na at hindi mo na alam kung paano pa kikilala ng kirot ot sakit. Hindi ko na ulit tatanungin kung paano mo ako nakilala. Siguro nga’y palasak na ang aking pangalan. Hindi ko na napansin ang oras, kanina pa pala tayo nagkukuwentuhan. Tapos na ang aking yosi break at ubos ko na rin ang isang kaha. Kung magkikita man ulit tayo, sana’y nakatakas na ako. Sa ngayon, mauuna na ako ‘pagkat atat na ang aking kustomer.

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Tag, You're It Ysabelle Fernandez

I guess you did try to escape but it won’t let you. It loved your teeth and the bubbles in your mouth, It adored the curls of your hair so much it built the glass firm, unbreakable— It won’t let you out. You can scream, you can squirm, But I am more than sure, Even after you’re long dead, it’ll be keeping you. Locked. Cold. But maybe, it is your fault. For you had too vibrant eyes and perfect teeth, Your lips and hair sway in magnificent harmony; You’re the only person it was with on lone nights, On quiet places, On deadly havens— You catered it so well. You committed to it so much it found comfort upon your deaths.

Space boy Julius Corpuz

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I Would, But I Didn’t Levi Bautista

I looked around and realized we are in a dream. I shouldn’t be surprised, for this is the only place now that I can get to see and talk to you. I looked longingly at your plump red lips and soulful eyes. Your lustrous hair that smells of plain old vanilla I could never get enough of. Your hands, so small and tender yet I feel secure whenever you hold mine.

Maaari ba? Laarni Bernardo

Kung ako’y mahalaga, hanapin mo ako. Kung ako’y hahanapin mo, magdala ka ng panyo. Kung ika’y papunta na, ihanda mo na ang sarili mo. Kung ika’y handa na, halika, dito ka sa tabi ko mismo. Maaari ka bang malunod sa aking mga luhang sayo lang gustong umagos?

Your hands that I’d never let go up to our last moment in the hospital. If only I knew then that our love would’ve come to an abrupt end… I would’ve told you how much I love you, every moment I could. I would’ve made you feel special every single time, for you really are to me. I would’ve enjoyed all those times that we were together. But I didn’t… And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to do all that, sorry that I took our time together for granted. And I’m sorry if I gave up on the fight that I had to leave you early and gave in to this cancer. I’m sorry. But I guess you won’t even remember this dream–you always complained to me about not being able to remember your dreams–and the things I will tell you, once you’ve woken up. But don’t worry, I will always watch you and be your guardian angel.

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The Unasked: Prostitution and Falling in Love Laarni Bernardo

You never forgot to tell me how cigarettes make everything poetic. Quiet conversations, Rainy days, Lonesome drives— The smoke gives more emphasis on the melancholy, you always say. It’s kind of a rule, A definite continuation of even the simplest venture. Especially after sex. Cigarettes after sex is important: The denouement of every climax-A different kind of release. “You’re the only cigarette I didn’t dare light.” I remember you telling me on the night that turned out to be our last together. I still dream about that moment— How infinite you felt. Now, I’m a lying servant of the ashes, Of different beds, Trying to smoke the sad out of my system like how we always did. Three years, And I’m still trying to look for your eyes upon different men’s. If my cigarette filters could only bring you back.

Magdalena Roaila Iniwan

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Run Athina Bales

Sistema ng Bansa Francis Balagan

Sa sistema ng pamahalaan sa kasalukuyan, hindi ko na alam kung sino ang paniniwalaan. Sa mga raliyista at komunista sa Recto, o sa mga sinungaling at kurakot na pulitiko? Sa hukuman, Buy and Sell ang hustisya. Sa EDSA, puwedeng magbayad pag nabatas ka. Maging mga pulis ay kriminal at adik na. Maayos na hustisya ng Pilipinas, nasaan na? Kapuwa nagsisiraan at nagpapatayan makuha lamang ang tiwala ng buong bayan upang sa eleksyon siya ay ihirang, kahit kapalit nito’y buhay ng mga mamamayan. Nakalilito na ang ating sistema kaya sana tayo’y magising na. ‘Wag na tayong magpapadala sa pangako at sa kaunting pera, dahil sa huli, tayo lang din ang kawawa.

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We only have a week to live, and so we decided to go. Because out of these gray walls are the lives we didn’t get to touch; We never even breathed near it. Inside the barbed fence, we just waited for our death: 24 years and it didn’t come. It still hasn’t whispered its greeting. Stan and I, we have the same dream. We have always wanted to try every hot chocolate in town. We would drink every bit of those Godly beverages in the skate park After we have tried every coffee shop that served their own chocolate goodness, we would argue over the best one. Yes, arguing is part of the plan. After we’ve decided which one’s the best, we would come to the conclusion: that would be the only hot chocolate we’re going to drink for the rest of our lives, no matter how short. That is the only remaining dream we have. The thinking is: Outside the thick gate is the holy ground. And as I’ve said earlier, we decided to go. Stealthy behind the shadows, no one saw us escaping the rooms. And next, the thick gate, and the barbed fence. Oh, how easy. It’s as easy as tricking the nurses we’re taking our medicines. Look at those dumb fucks, Clueless and unaware. We are outside the fence and the gate—this is liberation. And so we ran as fast as we can, We ran like we’re deers being hunted down by apathetic ghosts, And I can hear Stan barely suppressing his shouts. He looked at me and whispered, “Holy ground” in his tired breath. And I looked at him and whispered, “Holy ground”, in my tired breath. That’s the last thing I remember right before the whole facility behind us lightened up and rang its panicked bells. We ran faster, but we didn’t make the run for our lives. They shot Stan at the back of his head and I tasted his blood as it splattered on the snow. So much like iced chocolate. Stan was right. Holy ground.

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Companion Gerald Lara

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Drizzle

Jayson Gabriel Garcia

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PLATFORM 54F3 Clarence Jairra Javate

I came not from a train ride, A first class or a jet flight, A bus or a big bike— Not a single wheel rode miles or a tiring hill hike. It was a feeling, I may say, a wonderful one. A Bon Iver song in the yellow morning sun. Like a calm calico dress embroidered with flowers and porcelain. It was a seeming end of an endless long-lived pain. A magical becoming, A being, and seeing, It was felt. It was knowing. A warm caffeine in the morning, Welcomed a sense of belonging. I don’t know but I’m going Finally, I am here Here and I am breathing,

Art by Julius Corpuz

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Another World Dominic Pangilinan

Establishing connection…….. Searching archives………

10%............

In the past, I can just play the game using a mouse while looking at the screen. This time, you can actually experience it personally. It’s living out in a new world with a new life.

20%............ “Come on! What’s taking so long?!” I muttered as my patience run thin. “I didn’t forget to pay for a fast internet connection now, did I?”

As I dived in from the last three days, entering from the plaza, I noticed a girl equipped with moderate armor and a rapier. Sweet! It’s quite unusual to actually see a girl play games like this. Well, I had an ex dump me once for this game. She said that I needed to grow up and let go of this childish activity. But it could never sway me. Gaming is life, after all.

The screen keeps displaying the words with such slow impunity. I can’t help having interest in meeting that girl again.

The girl had a long, red hair and quite the fair complexion. She had a face that shows a no-nonsense attitude and cold, ember eyes that could pierce through your soul. If I didn’t know any better, maybe somebody pissed her off. But it didn’t intimidate me a bit. I like girls who are tough and stubborn-looking after all. For me, that’s beautiful and stunning.

Loading…….

I have been a gaming addict ever since high school. My friends and I usually hang out at internet cafes, playing MMORPG games for as long as we could. It’s something that bonds us as a team. I play games for fun but some of my friends usually attract trouble, trash talking with unscrupulous people or so they describe them. A new era has begun though… I have to thank the heavens that I am living in this time now. A new machine that can render virtual reality has actually been invented. Just imagine, you can play a game with your senses rerouted into another world while your actual body is not moving. With this revolutionary invention, we never have to go back again in playing games using motion sensors or just clicking a mouse. For a year, I have been playing Knights of the Empire, a game where you can be a knight and join the army to slay demons, cast magic, create weapons, discover artifacts, and complete quests given by the royalty or any other townsfolk. In the game lore, it is said that a legendary and powerful demon from the past will rise again and will lead the army of darkness in slaying all of mankind. The knights will rise and then vanquish this threat. Yeah, very cliché.

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I wish the developers could be more creative by adding more multiplayerrelated quests and a new feature to transfer items between players, not this stupid lore.

She walked around the plaza, seemingly looking for someone. I can’t help but sigh as she walks. Time may have slowed down because I haven’t noticed that she was now coming towards me. It made me self-conscious. Do I look good? Do I even smell good? Then it hit me. I was in a GAME. I made a note to mentally slap myself later. Gahhhh, she must be gorgeous than hell if I do say so myself. “Excuse me,” said the girl. “Have you seen a girl with a nasty looking hat?” “Uhh, no. I j-just logged in,” I said. Despite my efforts to look cool and dashing, I think I wasted my chance. “Okay, thanks!” she said as she flashed her smile. I could feel my face turn the same shade as a tomato. Before I knew it, she laughed. She laughed, man. My first impression of her shattered in a million pieces. Maybe it was a façade.

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“Hmmm, I can’t help but notice that I barely did anything yet you light up like a Christmas tree,” she continued while laughing. I’m barely doing anything and she laughs like I’m a comedian, my mind retorted. How could someone look this beautiful? It should be a crime to have this kind of looks. “Ahem. Maybe you shouldn’t assume that much, miss,” I said to her seriously. “Anyway, are you not worried for your companion? Maybe you should go now and keep looking for her.” “Nahhhhh. Your face says it all. Well, maybe I should just walk around town for a bit. She’ll send a message if something comes up.” She said as she composed herself from laughing. “By the way, I’m Alicia and you are?” she asked as she was sticking out her hand.

“Girls are a rare sight here. Maybe it contributes on the notion on why you say guys just flirt in the game. Anyway, I have to go. I think my mates are already on the den of the demons. Can’t miss the party after all.” I started to unsheathe my sword. “See ya around, miss,” I said, smiling at her. “Right.” She smiled back. “See you later, Drake.” ……………80% 90%......... 100%..........

“Drake, the name’s Drake. Nice meeting you, Alicia,” I replied as I smiled at her and shook hands. “If you don’t mind me saying, I thought you were some kind of a stoic warrior in this game.”

My vision was filled with white lights scattering about and I can hear crackling. As I waited, my body appeared once again in the plaza in the center of town.

“Oh. I just put up a front.” She sighed. “I don’t like getting swarmed by guys.”

“Ahhhhhhhh. It’s good to be back. I will find you, Alicia,” I said with a toothy grin.

“You say that but I’m a guy too, you know.” I wonder why she approached me in the first place. “You seem innocent and not capable of hurting a fly, I think.” Alicia burst out in laughter again. I think this girl is making fun of me, I thought. I resisted frowning in front of her. “Is that supposed to be a compliment now, lady?” I asked with an eyebrow raised. “It’s my way of saying that you are quite different from the rest of the guys here. Unlike them, I don’t think you spend your time flirting or showing off here. I knew I recognize you from the other day. You seem too serious in fighting demons.” “Well, I enjoy the game, thank you very much”. I smiled. “It’s a great way to escape the real world. Don’t you want to just have fun and forget all the troubles you have?” “I do want some fun. It’s the reason I started playing this game after all. Too bad that there are too few girls in here to interact with,” she said with a bored tone.

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KABANATA V Naalimpungatan ako sa paglilikot ng mga bata. Hindi yata talaga ako patatahimikin ng mga asungot na’to kahit pagtulog! Nilingon ko sila’t ang una kong nakita ay si Tsong Dado, nakatayo sa may pinto. Alam ko na. Paalis na sila. Parang may nangyayari sa puso ko. Sobrang bilis ng tibok nito. Nagising si Edsel at tinanong ako, “Ano pong nangyayari, kuya? Ano pong kailangan ni Tsong? Inaantok pa ’ko.” Sinamaan ako ng tingin ni Tsong. Hindi ko siya pinansin at ibinalik ang tingin kay Edsel. Hinaplos ko ang buhok niya ng mga kamay kong nanginginig. “Aalis na kayo,” bulong ko. “Saan po kami pupunta?” “Sa...” Paano ko sasabihin sa batang ‘to na ipagbibili na siya sa mga taong sisira ng ulirat niya? “Sa perya?” Sabik na sabik na tanong niya. Halos umilaw ang mata niya sa tuwa, hindi ko masabing “Hindi, pag-alis mo sa seldang ‘to, wala ka nang uuwian.” “A... e...” “Uy, pupunta raw tayo sa perya!” Anunsiyo niya sa mga batang gising na rin ngayon dahil sa sigaw ni Edsel. “Talaga?” napa-upo pa si Mau sa tuwa. “Bilisan niyo, tara na!” anunsiyo ni Parong habang pilit sinusuklay ang buhok gamit ang kamay niya. Nagkumahog sila at isa-isang tumayo.

NANG UMIKOT NA ANG RUWEDA

“Tama,” sabat ni Tsong, “Pupunta na tayo sa perya.” Ngumiti siya. Parang payasong sabik ipakita ang kaniyang obra. Lalo namang nasabik ang mga bata. Hinanap ng mga mata ko si Mac-Mac, humihingi ng tulong sa krimen na aking nagawa. Ayokong patayin ang kabataan nila ‘pag napagtanto na nilang walang ruweda o mga ilaw at masasayang tawanan sa pupuntahan nila. Nagkatinginan kami at alam na niya ang nangyayari. Alam na niya. Paalis na sila. Sumama ang mukha niya’t sinugod si Tsong ng suntok. Dahil hindi niya inaasahan, napaatras si Tsong Dado habang tuloy tuloy sa pagsigaw, pagsuntok at pagsipa si Mac-Mac. Galit na galit siya. Nagsigawan

ang mga bata at napakapit sakin si Edsel. Hayag sa mukha ng mga bata ang pagkalito: Bakit sinusuntok ni Kuya Mac-Mac si Tsong e ipapasyal na nga kami sa perya? May sayad ba siya? Hindi rin nagtagal ay nasikmuraan ni Tsong si Mac-Mac. Anong laban ng mapayat na si Mac-Mac sa laki ng katawan ni Tsong? Napasandal siya sa dingding sa pagod, mga galit na matang lumuluha. Gusto ko siyang lapitan. Isinara ni Tsong ang pintuan ni selda para paandarin ang sasakyan. Alam ko na nasa harap ng kwartong ito ang sasakyan dahil tuwing may aalis, rinig na rinig ko ang makina nitong nagagalit kasabay ang mga sigaw at iyak ng mga bata. “Kuya Cedie bakit mo sinuntok si Tsong? Ipupunta na nga tayo ng perya, o!” naiinis na sabi ni Angelita. Hindi sumagot si Mac-Mac. Nakatingin lang siya sa sahig. “Oy, tumayo na. Maghawak kamay kayo at huwag bibitaw,” bulyaw ni tsong. Tiningnan ko sila isa-isa nang may ngiti ng pamamaalam. “’Wag niyo ‘kong kakalimutan, ha?” “Po? Di ka ba sasama, kuya?” pagtataka ni Edsel at Parong, nakatayo na sila at si Edsel hawak ang kamay ko. Hinihila patayo. “Hindi. Maiiwan ako dito,” sagot ko. “Iaayos ko ang higaan niyo ni Angelita, Parong, at Mac-Mac.” Kuumikirot ang puso ko na parang malalaglag na habang binabanggit ko ang mga pangalan nila at pilit na inaalala ang mga mukha nila. “Sigurado po kayo? Masaya don! Sabi ni Kuya Mac-Mac, maganda don!” sabat ni Mauricio. Naninigurado. Matalino talaga. “Hindi ako pwedeng umalis dito, e. Walang bantay. Sabihin niyo na lang sakin kung ano’ng pakiramdam ang sumakay sa ruweda! Este sa Ferris Wheel!” Sumigaw si Tsong. “Tama na ‘yan mga paslit! Labas na.” “Sige, kuya! Babalik po kami kaagad, baka matakot ka dito at mag-isa ka!” nginitian ko si Edsel, parang siya ‘yong bunso kong kapatid.

Nadurog ang puso ko ng lumabas na ang mga bata kasama si Mau. Niyakap ako ni Mac-Mac ng mahigpit. “Kidlat, ayokong sumama sa kanila. Kidlat, tumakas tayo,” nanginginig niyang pakiusap. Tumulo ang luha ko at niyakap siyang pabalik. Wala na kaming magagawa, nasa pintuan si Tyang at may hawak na baril, nakatutok kay Mac-Mac. “Kapag hindi ka sumama ng maayos ha, humanda ka sakin,” pananakot niya. Lumingon si Mac-Mac at humihikbing sumunod kay Tyang Insiang. Narinig ko ang karugkog ng sasakyan nila Tyang. “Paalam, mga kaibigan,” bulong ko. Napasandal ako sa pader at humagulgol. Matagal na akong hindi naniwala sa Diyos, pero kung mananalangin kaya ako na ingatan niya ang mga batang ‘yon, pakikinggan niya ‘ko? Ewan. Ang tahimik na naman.

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Prisoner From Hell Jenine Maricar Barnachea

SHADE OF WRONG Georliza Pascual

I couldn’t trace any audacity on your countenance — I reckoned. A look of haven that makes one wish to have for one’s life time. Hooked by flowery words which made you a paragon of virtue. Upbringing strength and power from our exude, You created colors of hope; and withdrawn it easily up to the smallest piece. Today, I am here, I stand on the steep that I should never step on, Crying for remedy that can’t be perceived through your eyes. Pointed out, “it’s your fault” — I would not deny it, When I gave you my trust and had it into the top. But if I could only erase the ink inside the circle beside your name back on May 2019, then the shade of black would have never been this dark.

I am in the middle of a vast ocean, Waiting for someone to rescue me from the monsters of the great deep— Wanting for someone to hold my trembling hands as I hardly weep. I am in the middle of an infinite abyss, And the darkness creeps within my soul. It feels like no one could deliver me from this ghoul. I am somewhere between far and near, Stuck between going back and going further. Sweat mixed with tears had my lifeless eyes blur. I am at the end of a closed road, Waiting for someone to pass me by, They say nothing is impossible so I should try. I looked down. My legs are painted with dried blood, My feet are limp from running and my lips trembled with fear. I took deep breaths and closed my eyes; I remember it clear. How the sweet smoke of the cigarette tickled my nose As he forcefully grasped my forearms to pin it on top. How he left scratches and purpled bruises on my chest As I voicelessly screamed “Father! Please stop!” Tonight, I escaped hell. Tonight, I escaped home.

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Red and the Dead Athina Bales

It was before the last ember died. We were at the woods and we were lighting fireworks. “Let’s get out of here,” Red, the person I wish I was, told me. “Let’s get the hell out of this town and face whatever comes next.” He always had stern eyes, the eyes I wish I had, but this time they whisper a soft plea of desperation. “What about school? Or your mom? My mom?” I am anxious and I am scared. The city has never been for me. “You know you don’t care about those things. Not prom nor your mom— you don’t even want tomorrow to come.” He knows me too well, yet he won’t cater my safe shell. His firework is now reaching his hand and I watched as it illuminated the last of his hope. The thing about Red and I, is that we have very similar philosophies. And another thing about Red and I, is that we have very different narratives. He wants to live, so do I. He wants to leave, not in my book. I gave him a small smile and shook my head, “I am more than happy looking at the pretty lights from here, Red.” He dropped his firework; it burnt his thumb a bit. No more sparks. He looked at me and said, “You don’t have to settle on your littlest of dreams, because safety too often crumbles.” He shot me a sad smile, the smile I wish I had, and continued, “You don’t have to live forever, Q. All you have to do is live. And if all your life only ranges from right now until tomorrow, we could go and feel several years-worth of experiences tonight before the clock reach the dawn. Just you and me and the life we’re not supposed to have.” Desperation in Red’s eyes. What a sight. “You could stay here and watch the far lights you have always adored,” he started, “or you could go and be with the lights, like what you have always dreamed of.” The last ember is dying and we both know that I am, too. I took Red’s hand, the hand I wish I had, and ran for the lights.

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Art by Prince Cedie Corpuz

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Sumpa ni Malaya ng North Edsa

Why My Father Never Came Back

Levi Bautista

Jessica Maureen Gaurano

Isa, dalawa, tatlo.

My fatherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s hands shook as the miles stretched into a wide unknown. The city, along with the presence of noise, faded into view. All was left were the plains, the sun hidden behind the clouds, and the sound of tires rolling on soil.

Bawat hakbang mo paakyat ng hagdan ay siya namang pagbagsak ng mga hinanakit na iyong dinaramdam. Kung ano ang taas ng iyong naakyat ay siya namang pagbaba ng ibang tao sa iyo. Isa, dalawa, tatlo. Higit pa riyan ang problemang pumapasan sa balikat mo. Problemang hindi mo maatim na ipasa mo pa sa iba at alam mo ring hindi nila maiintindihan. Isa, dalawa, at tatlo. Ikaw ay nasa ilalim na ng kapangyarihan ko. Ngunit huwag kang mangamba, ang bulong ko sayoâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;y para sa ikabubuti mo. Isa, dalawa at pagbilang ko ng tatlo, tumalon ka at tumakas na sa mapait na reyalidad na ito. Isa, dalawa, tatlo. Ikaw na ang ika-apat sa pinalaya ko. At hindi pa ako natatapos dito. Sapagkat ako si Mariang Malaya ng SM North Edsa, ang diwatang sa iyo ay magpapalaya.

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The absence of awareness became a comfort to him. Unsure of measured distances, he became sure of the road less traveled. Aching to come back, he stopped his old minivan for a while, then he realized that there was no room for home anymore. Why my father never came back has always been clear. The memory of a family was a departure that never leaves. My mother, his first love, became ashes that were scattered into a jewel-blue stream in a nearby forest, feeding the water with the steady rumble of a drum roll. The remains of his best friend continue to cry for help in an abandoned building, an echo only heard by the cold air. And I, the unborn son, will always be blood and bones. With the absence of the years, travel began to feel tiring. Cities and provinces became a bore. But father would rather occupy a temporary space, because there was no room for home anymore.

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Venture Jazmine Tumibay

Grew up in the dark and suffocating closet, Do this and do that; there, everything is all set. Truly, I am just a lifeless little puppet. Until that very moment our eyes met. Never felt the crave for liberty, But you led me to all these emotions. My everyday feels like a reverie: All I know is that I’m new to this attraction. As cliche as it can be, Trust me, you are my light indeed. You taught me there’s nothing wrong with being me, Should’ve let you known how much you mean. What you and I have sets me free. Whenever I am with you, I can breathe. But I was selfish, I was very selfish. Never thought we’ll be having our last kiss You are my escape yet I caged you in my hidden world. You are my escape yet I’m still the same coward you met. You are my escape yet I’m still that little puppet. You are my escape, and now I’m letting you escape. But the world can really be playful sometimes. Undeniably, there is hello after goodbyes, Where I am now? Still by your side. No more letting go, no more living in fright.

Art by Roaila Iniwan

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Three Letter Name's Waiting Melvin Clarence Dowes

I woke up with a Buddha in my head, But I still managed to smile because I know it’s all worth it. I glanced at the scattered Accounting materials beside my bed, Fully motivated to start the day ahead. Being an Accounting student is not easy. You need to be dedicated, persevered, and have the will to learn whole-heartedly. Sleep deprivation will be a frequent term in your life’s dictionary, But what sucks among all is the retention policy. But hey! Nothing’s difficult if you really love what you’re doing! When studying gets tough, go take a break; then after, continue soaring! Intermediate Accounting, Auditing and Taxation are nothing, Compared to the utmost desire in our heart that is burning. Invest efforts and time now, calculate everything. Be patient coz I can clearly see the afterglow for all of us shining! Accounting may be difficult, and in some point might be down-casting, But surely in the end all of our efforts will be paid off, when we got that three-letter-name that’s waiting for us.

Art by Michael Roman

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diploma Francis Balagan

Matagal mong pinaghandaan, Upang ang araw na ito’y maisakatuparan. Alam kong napagod ka, Pero hindi ka umatras sa laban. Kasama ang magulang sa harap ng karamihan, Abot ligaya mong kinuha ang papel ng karunungan. Simbolo na ika’y nagtapos, Pasasalamat sa magulang, lubos na lubos. Ngayong magsisimula ka na sa bagong pahina, ‘Wag mo sanang kalimutan lahat ng iyong karanasan. Dahil lahat ng ‘yon ay magsisilbing inspirasyon Sa mundong tatahakin mo matapos ang edukasyon.

Art by Roaila Iniwan

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Face of Peace Jazmine Tumibay

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Drag Me to the Sea Levi Bautista

“Wooosh!” I marveled at the sight of the wave’s another attempt to escape the glistening sea, only to be dragged back. “Why would the wave want to escape where it’s meant to be; where it could be a part of something bigger; where it can be what it really is? Why, when it will only dissolve and crumble into mere sea foam and be dry on the land? I just don’t get it!” I asked, hoping the salty breeze will carry the question and bring back some answers from the sea. But actually, I do… I do get it, for I am not so different. I’m also escaping something, something just as inescapable. Yet I buried the thought, again, like a crab burrowed under the sand. I focused instead on the stars’ shining reflection on the unrested waters. It’s funny how they remind me of my dreams; seeming so far away when it is actually within reach, within me. Yet I keep on trying to grasp it the wrong way. Not skyward, but towards the land and away from the sea which contains my dreams. The dream to be able to hold his hands, to hug him and steal kisses from him without being wary that I might get caught. The dream to have something more, something bigger from the sweet little things we do in secret. The dream to go out on a date without pretending it to be just a friendly hangout. The dream to be able to say ‘I love you!’ to him in a thousand languages out loud without eating the words. To be able to proudly show the world that he is mine and I am his. But how? They don’t know, they can’t know. For I’m sure they wouldn’t understand! How am I supposed to reach my dream when it is the very thing that I’m escaping? I was so lost in the thought that I haven’t noticed when he sat beside me on the blanket laid out on the beach. I only became aware when he handed me the can of beer he just retrieved from the cooler in the trunk of his car, and took hold of my free hand. His hand fits perfectly to mine, my hand which they always tell me is too soft and lenient for a boy’s hand.

Art by Russel Manubay

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A Personification Hannah Marie Olanda

You are my silent ruinationâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; an organized chaos in my heart that swells up my eyes and brings me to my knees to call every god there is.

Two Sentences Laarni Bernardo

Isa tayong magandang pangungusap. Bagamat kailangan mong huminto nang ilang beses dahil sa kahabaan nito, sakto lang naman. Isang pangungusap lamang ngunit puno ng laman at kahulugan; ayaw ko nang dagdagan o bawasan. Ngunit sabi ng mga grammarian, mali raw ang pagkakabuo sa pangungusap. Kailangan daw pagbukurin at gawing dalawa. Dapat daw tuldok na sa bahaging iyon ngunit kuwit ang inilagay natin. Hindi raw tayo konektado sa isaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t-isa kaya bakit dapat pagsamahin? Pasensiya na po, wrong punctuation mark. Ay, wrong person pala!

Art by Jenina Marie Lipana

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Si Islaw at ang Kabute Clarence Jairra Javate

Islaw, parang medyo nakakasilaw. Ako lang ba, o may bakulaw na nakadungaw? Mga mata ay maraming natatanaw. Si Robin Padilla’y nakaupo sa isang malaking bulalakaw, At si Sharon Cuneta ay parang ice cream na unti-unting natutunaw. May mga pating ba talaga dito sa lupa, o ako lamang ay nananaginip? Parang nais nilang ako’y lamunin sa tuwing ako ay sumisilip. Nakatatakot lumangoy, nakatatakot sumisid. Ang utak ay kumikitid, mga mata’y nanlilisik. Islaw, Bakit kahel ang lupa at dilaw ang langit? Hayaan mo na nga, hindi naman ganoon kapangit. Ngunit bakit kaya tumatahol ang mga kalabaw sa bukid? Nakakatawa, parang iyong nadaanan kong nagsasalitang ipis. Siyamnapu’t pitong araw na mula noong ako’y nadapa sa taniman ng mga kabute. Malaki ang sugat, kaya malaki rin ang nadale. Ngayon ay nakauwi na akong muli, Ngunit hindi ko alam kung nakabangon na nga ba talaga ako, Islaw, hindi ko na rin pinapansin dahil masaya naman kung nasaan tayo

Habang tumatagal ay parang nabibingi. Dulot kaya ito ng mga kabute o baka sadiyang ang taynga ay marumi? Bakit ba kasi tumakas pa ako noong gabing iyon, Hindi ko na tuloy alam ang daan pabalik, malabo na ang direksyon. Paano ko na maririnig ang tawag ni Inay kapag kailangan ko nang umuwi? Kung nagugustuhan ko na rito at mas pinipiling manatili, Hinihila ang aking paa at may nakayakap sa aking mga binti. Mga braso’y walang laban, ang isipan ay bungi. Itay, paano ba na ako’y iyong masisisi? Sa ating tahanan ay wala akong susi. Mga tanong ay walang sagot, mga mukha ay sibangot, May mga sakit na nakabalot, mga sakit na walang gamot. Noong gabi ng aking pagtakas ay natagpuan ko ang lunas. Nadapa sa taniman ng mga kabute, kaya’t sabi ng iba’y minalas. Ang sabi ko naman ay hindi ninyo alam, Kung paano mabuhay ng parang wala namang buhay. At kung mawala? Ayos lang.

Tawa rito, tawa doon, Siguro ay ito na ang impyerno. Ngunit nakaka-aliw at di hamak na mapresko, Aakalain mo ba na minsan ako’y nag-seminaryo? Mukhang ito na nga ang mga kwentong impyerno ni Padre Kiko. Kung s’an ang mga problema ay mabilisang naglalaho, Ngunit kasabay ang kaluluwa na dahan dahang bumabaho, Kapalit ng bawat tawa, tagumpay at panalo.

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It’s Not Me, It’s You, the Lady in White John Vincent Pascual

I changed into my polo, Put my boxers on, then my pants. This is mandatory. A practice I got used to. It is Sunday, A new day to start the week. My people went to church; Everyone is talking to Him. I saw the lady in white. She has long silver hair this time. Right there again, Staring at me longer than usual. I went back home, Confused just like before. The stunning lady is still a mystery, And now I am tired. I reached for my sketchpad, Dozens of sheets with the lady in white. Another week but I draw the same face, And each time her hair color changes. I am puzzled about her being— We grew up together but we don’t talk. She appeared when I was an eight-year-old boy, She was just always staring at me ever since. It was Sunday, First day of the week. My people went to church, Everyone was talking to Him. It was exactly twenty years ago, When the lady in white Who changes her hair color every week, Started staring at me. I was afraid to look intimately, But today I am different. The lady in white is not who she is— For it was me staring at the mirror all along. It was me who wanted to escape— It was the real me. The lady in white; It was me. Art by Julius Corpuz

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Silong

Francis Balagan

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Prisoner in Love Edcristina Salmos

ALAK Francis Balagan

Napakasakit na karanasan, ang aking pinagdaanan. Ika’y inagaw n’ya, at tuluyan akong nilisan.

Swollen lips, Black and blue arms, Wounded flesh, That’s how you mark me with pain.

Alak ang nagsilbing armas upang makalimot at makatakas. Sa nararamdamang pait, alak ang nagsilbing pampatamis.

Hands and feet are gripped with chains, Sight got blinded and mouth has muted. My neck is held by a rope, It’s choking; I am in your possession. I am a martyr prisoner That fell onto your wicked trap. Sick from this unhealthy treatment, No medication could ease the torment.

‘Pag nasa mundo ng kalasingan wala na akong maramdaman. Pero‘pag ako’y nahimasmasan, ikaw na naman ang nais maasam.

Your kiss was poison. Your hug served like a weapon. The feather-like touches felt like spike, Which you love to run down my spine.

Salamat sa alak na nagsisilbing kaibigan sa oras ng kalungkutan, palagi kang nariyan. ‘Wag mo sana akong pagsawaan dahil mahaba-haba pa ang ating samahan.

Greedy cage that has locked me inside, Unwanted, I was taught a love so brutal. Please spare my lonesome heart, For you don’t deserve its purity. I love you, But my self demands to be loved more. So I’m breaking free from you, I’m falling out of this monstrous romance.

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Love Story Melvin Clarence Dowes

Not as romantic as the title suggests. That feeling when you’re reading a book, and then the events had just turned to something romantic. A scene where the hero and the heroine were having sweet and intimate gestures with each other. Those laughs, smiles, and kisses that made your heart flutter instantly. Then you smiled. Stopped reading for a while and cuddled your precious book as you look up the sky. That romantic scene swirled in your mind like a favorite song that the cold breeze is whispering to your ear. And then as if by default, you let yourself drown by your own imagination. The sparks in your eyes were flaunting that you’re hopefully wishing that it’s you and him. But suddenly, your hopeful smile faded, the sparks in your eyes vanished, and that wishful imagination disappeared like a fragile bubble pierced by a tiny needle. But yet, you still managed to smile. A weak one. For you had realized that no matter how intense your feelings were, or how clear the image of you and him in your imagination as you mimic that romantic scene, you still can’t be the hero and heroine of your own love story. That’ll never happen. You’re even afraid that he doesn’t know you’re existing.

Art by Roaila Iniwan

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Breaking free Annika Eketerina Tugaff

Confined in my own space, Still trying to find pace. Unable to escape the chains That tie me to the unending plains. The feeling seems inescapable; Out of breath, feeling disabled. Freedom seems nowhere to be found, Unable to even feel safe and sound. All these barriers are too concrete to break. Wistful soul with high risks to take— The cycle seems to be infinite, But I’ll be certain that it wouldn’t be definite. This solitary seems to be overdue, Time to conquer it fearlessly and true. I may have lost many battles but I’ll give my all to win this war— Demons that I’ve created — time to banish from afar.

Art by Julius Corpuz

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KABANATA VI Nakadungaw uli ako, hindi umaandar ‘yong tv. Hinihintay kong bumalik sina Tsong Dado dahil wala naman akong ibang gagawin kung hindi maghintay. Napa-upo ako at may tumusok sa pwet ko. “Aray!’Yong pwet ko!” humuni ang boses ko sa buong kuwarto. Nakakabingi. Tumayo ako’t may na-upuan pala akong susi. Baka kay Tsong Dado ‘to, baka nahulog no’ng sinuntok siya ni Mac-Mac. Itago ko nga muna at ibabalik ko pagdating nila. Iniisip ko kung nasaan na sila ngayon. May magkakasama kaya sa kanila? Nakarating na kaya sila sa kung saan man sila dapat pumunta? May makakarating kaya sa kanila sa perya? Perya. Kinuha ko ‘yong susi at pinagmasdan. Baka pwede na ’kong umalis? Baka mahabol ko pa sila? Tapos pag nahabol ko sila, pupunta kaming lahat sa perya? Tapos sasamahan ko silang umuwi? Tapos makakauwi na ulit ako kay nanay? Baka nag-aalala na ‘yon! Dali-dali akong tumayo at inilapat ang susi sa pintuan ng rehas. Hindi sakto sa kandado. Akala ko makakaalis na rin ako. Kinalampag ko muna ang pinto bago tuluyang mawalan ng pag-asa-bumukas ‘yong pinto. “Diyos ko,” marahan kong bulong. Dahan-dahan, kinapa ng mga paa ko ang daan paalis ng kuwarto. Ang daang akala ko’y habambuhay ko na lamang tatanawin. Tinakbo ko ang pinto paalis sa bahay at hindi rin ito nakakandado. Naaamoy ko na ang nalalapit na kalayaan--ang magaang simoy ng bukid at mga bundok.

ANG KANDADO, ANG BISiKLETA, AT MERON PANG ISA

Pagtanaw ko sa gate nila tsong, nakita kong naka-kandado ito. Habang inilalapat ko ang susi, tahimik akong nanalangin na sana’y matupad ko na ang aking tahimik na pangako: Sana’y mapawalan ko na rin sa wakas ang kandadong ito. May tumunog sa kandado at ito na mismo ang nagpawala sa kaniyang sarili--malaya na siya. Malaya na rin ako. MALAYA NA AKO! Kinuha ko ang kandado at sabay kaming lumabas. May bisikleta sa gilid ng bahay nila tsong, isinama ko na rin pati ‘yon. Tumakas ako, kaakay ang kandado at bisekleta.

Habang binabaybay ko ang kahabaan ng bukid papunta sa kung saan man para hanapin ang nawawala kong bayan, nakita ko sila. Sumasalubong at naghihiyawan; napakaganda raw ng perya. Heto silang anim, kasama ko. Totoong totoo. Wala raw mga pangyayaring perpekto. Ewan ko sa kanila, pero para saâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;kin, sobra pa â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;to. Totoong totoo. Totoo? Sabi nila, mayroong manipis na linya sa pagitan ng mabuti at ng hangin. Mayroon din daw manipis na pagitan ang hangin at bagyo. Ibig sabihin ba nito, kaunti lang rin ang pagitan ng mabuti at ng bagyo? Hindi ko alam. Pero masaya na akong sila ang huling naisip ko bago bumigay ang aking katawan sa pamilyar na amoy ng kulay pulang panyo.

Tahimik na naman.

PASASALAMAT Ang buong publikasyon ay nagpapasalamat sa mga estudyante at mambabasa ng librong ito. Salamat sa pagtangkilik sa mga isyu na inililimbag ng Genré sa nagdaang dalawampu’t limang taon. Kabilang kayo sa mga naging inspirasyon ng bawat miyembro upang pagbutihin ang paglilingkod para sa inyo. Nagpapasalamat din ang Genré sa administrasyon ng Wesleyan University-Philippines sa pagbibigay ng suporta sa larangan ng pagpapahayag. Hindi rin mawawala ang pasasalamat ng publikasyon sa mga nagdaang miyembro nito sa loob ng dalawamput limang taon. Itinayo at binigyan niyo ng matibay na pondasyon ang Genré na aalagaan at patitibayin pa sa mga susunod na panahon. Sa mga kasalukuyang miyembro ng Genré, maraming salamat sa pasensya, tiyaga, oras, at kooperasyon. Kung hindi dahil sa inyo, wala ang libro na ito at iba pang limbag. Higit sa lahat, salamat sa Maykapal na nagbigay ng mga kamay na may kakayahayang gumuhit, kumuha ng litrato, at sumulat ng mga akda. Salamat sa Iyong talentong handog. Nawa’y may napulot kayong aral or inspirasyon sa mga nagawang akda, guhit, o litrato ng mga miyembro ng Genré. Hanggang sa susunod na limbag. Muli, taos pusong nagpapasalamat ang publikasyon sa mga oras na ginugol ng mga mambabasa hanggang makarating dito sa dulo ng pahina.

MGA PASIMUNO

ATHINA

HANNAH

ADA

ALOHA

george

EZRA

Huwag kang papalinlang sa mga kulot n’yang buhok, dahil nasa mga ito ang kalakasan ni Athina; ang kanyang utak ay isang tape recorder na naglalaman ng milyon-milyong kwento at lyrics ng kanta.

Maraming pet si Hannah, isa na rito ang hedgehog na aksidente n’yang napatay subalit napatunayang self-defense lang ang nangyari dahil napag-alaman ng awtoridad na hindi n’ya kayang magalit; katunayan, iuutos pa n’ya sa iba kung may kailangan s’yang pagalitan tapos sabay thank you.

Sa sobrang bihasa ni Ada sa paglalaro ng ML, nakukuha na n’yang magdiscuss habang naglalaro. Kaya n’yang ienumerate sa’yo ang kahinaan at kalakasan ng bawat hero; nakagawian na rin n’yang magsend ng mga nakakatawang clip sa gc.

Huwag kang papalinlang sa mga kulot n’yang buhok, dahil nasa mga ito ang kalakasan ni Athina; ang kanyang utak ay isang tape recorder na naglalaman ng milyon-milyong kwento at lyrics ng kanta.

Parating nahihirapan si George sa paghahanap ng anggulo sa ginagawa n’yang article, ngunit napapawi ang lahat ng hirap sa ginhawang dala ng sisig at shanghai ni Jojo sa kanyang buhay.

‘Strong woman’ kung ilarawan ni Ezra ang kanyang sarili. Mahusay s’ya sa table tennis subalit unti-unti nga lang nawala ang kanyang gana nang maputol ang pinakaiingatan n’yang kuko sa hinliliit habang naglalaro.

JAYSON

Levi

JACK

CEDIE

RUSSEL

Mapapapalit ka ng profile picture sa Facebook kapag kinuhanan ka ng litrato ni Jayson, at sa sobrang ganda ng kinalalabasan ng mga picture na dumadaan sa kanyang mga kamay, aakalain mong nasa commercial ka ng Tide sa tindi ng gulat. Malaking impluwensya sa kaniya ang bandang Twenty One Pilots.

Tahimik kung titingnan siya, ngunit sari-saring imahinasyon ang namumuo sa kaniyang isipan. Parating naka-earphones si Levi, na kadalasan mayroong malakas na music, na sa sobrang lakas, pati ikaw ay makakapag-soundtrip na rin sa pinakikinggan niya.

Handang pumilas ng pahina ng notebook si MJ sa kahit anong oras para lang ipaliwanag sa’yo ang mga suggestions n’ya sa mga tinatanong mo, kahit pa nga ang notebook na iyon ay hindi kanya; binabasag n’ya ang kaseryosohan ng kanyang mga sinasabi sa biglaang pagsasabi ng ‘char’

Isa sa marami niyang talento ay ang kakayanan niyang pakalmahin ang mga bagyo sa isipan ng tao at magbigay ng inspirasyon gamit ang musika at tula niyang ginagawa.

Si Cedie ang subject sa pinakamagagadang sunkissed shot; nag-level up na rin ang dinadampian ng kanyang mala-alamat na kamay sa pagguhit mula sa papel, ngayon wala ng patawad, kaya na rin sa balat at pader.

Ang tawa ni Russel ay may hawig sa baby na nalulunod sa saya; kahit madalas ay lutang sa mga requirements na kailangan, mabuti na lang ay may tyaga s’ya sa pagpila ng paulit-ulit.

JANVI

YNA

GERALD

FRANCIS

AIRA

Bigla-biglang lumalakas ang pandinig ni Janvi sa twing may magsasabi ng salitang “cute” at humihina naman ito kapag napupunta ang usapan sa edad; Sa kalagitnan ng meeting sa Genré, nagpapadala s’ya ng mensahe, tulad ng isang abalang-abalang mayor na hindi makakarating sa pagpupulong.

Parati mong madaratnan ni JM na nasa harap ng laptop at gumagawa ng samu’t saring liham; bunga ng pagiging masyadong pormal ng format ng mga ginagawa n’yang letters, madalas ay gusto na lang n’yang itype ang “What’s poppin?” para tapos agad.

Huwag kang mag-alala kapag kasama mo si Ynna dahil, ang bag n’ya ay parang bag ng isang lolang handa—may iba’t-ibang langis at ointment na maaari mong hiramin; maliban sa pagiging organisado, takal na rin n’ya ang sukat sa likod ng hindi mo pa natitikmang sawsawan.

Adobe ang pangalan ng bestfriend ni Gerald; huwag tayong matakot na gamitin ang charger n’ya kahit ano pang itsura nito; Siya rin ang isa sa pinaka matapang na tao na makikilala mo dahil kaya n’yang magexam kahit walang review.

Kulang ang araw kapag hindi siya dumaraan sa office upang magbigay ng mga joke na nakakasira ng araw. Isa siya sa nagpapagaan ng trabaho sa opisina.

Hindi nauubusan ng ‘say’ si Aira lalo na sa mga isyu ng Pinas, ang kahandaan ng kanyang sarili ay nakukuha n’ya sa kanyang lunch box na naglalaman ng tanghalian na nagsisilbing lakas n’ya sa pagharap sa maraming panoorin sa YouTube habang kumakain.

PAULO

DOM

JENINE

ANNIKA

ROAILA

Kaya niyang iguhit ang mga tao sa iyong mga panaginip at gumuhit ng mga imaheng gigising sa iyong imahinasyon. Tahimik man kung tingnan, isa siya sa nagbigay kulay sa publikasyon.

Hindi lang siya pumupukaw ng damdamin sa pagsusulat, pati ang buo niyang pagkatao ay agaw-pansin. Siya ay tinaguriang escort ng publikasyon dahil sa mga okasyon ay bigla nalang may magpapalitrato sa kanya.

Mahinahon lang siyang magsalita pero may kulit din na itinatago. Madadala ka sa ibang ibayo ng mga tulang kanyang isinusulat.

Isang booklover na palaging nagsasabi ng ‘Sana all.’ Loyal costumer siya ng Marlou’s at hilig niya ang tindang ice cream doon, lalo na ang Red Velvet flavor.

Isang batang palaban at walang inuurungan. Malikot ang kaniyang utak kaya naman siya ang palaging tigatanong sa Truth or Dare.

Kasing taas ng pang-Miss Universe niyan height ang will niya para matuto sa larangan ng pagguhit. Kapag hindi naglalaro ng ML, gumuguhit siya ng mga bagay na produkto ng kanyang malawak na imahinasyon.

ROSEANNE

jenina

CHRISTIAN

JAZ

LAARNI

Matalik na kaibigan ni Rose Ann ang calculator at mga libro niya. Isa rin siyang masiyahin taong punung-puno ng positivity.

Araw-araw makikita mo siya, minsan pisikal pero madalas sa mga story niya sa FB. Isang sweet at mabait na nilalang si Jenina na bukod sa pagsusulat, nakahanap siya ng bagong iibigain—ang pagguhiti.

Adik siya sa lahat ng bagay—sa lahat ng bagay na may mukha ni “stitch”. Titingan mo siyang hindi gugustuhin ang blue na alien, pero pati kumot niya, unan, pitaka, key chain—at kung anu-ano pa ay mukha ni stitch. Madiskarte siyang tao at madalas biglang na lang sasayaw kahit walang tugtog.

Araw-araw ay naka-jacket siya na akala mo’y nakatira sa Siberia, lamig na lamig alkahit na umaapoy na sa labas. Talunan sa UNO. Tumataas din ang boses niya kapag galak na galak sa buhay.

Makikita mo siya na nakasuot ng black na face mask. Lihim na miyembro kasi siya ng isang k-pop group. EXO ang inspirasyon at kaligayahan sa buhay kaya album at merch nila ang laging pinagiipunan.

Tahimik lang siya ngunit napakahusay niya sa pagsusulat. “A walking calculator” kung ilarawan ng mga kaibigan, dahil sa galing niya sa Matematika na tila kumakain ng numero. Hindi expressive ang mga mata n’ya, kaya mabuti kung itanong mo ng derekta kung ano ang kanyang nararamdaman.

CLARENCE

JAI

TIN

GWEN

ROICE

JULIUS

Tahimik at mistulang masungit siya sa unang tingin subalit lumalabas ang cheerful side niya kapag kasama ang mga kaibigan at co-staffers. Hilig din niyang kumanta gamit ang kaniyang soft golden voice. Pangarap niya na maabot ang high note sa kanta ni Taylor Swift na “Change.”

Isang likas na tatay at maginoo na palaging iniiwasan ang mga romantic na tanong sa Truth or Dare pero G na G naman ‘pag iba ang nasa hot seat. Inborn mangaawit na may malaanghel na boses.

Hindi magagalit si Christine kahit saang number mo itimes ang palayaw n’yang Tin, pwedeng Tin (2x, 3x, 4x ...) ikaw ang bahala, tutal ang nag-iisang big deal lang sa kanya ay ang tungkol sa crush n’ya na hindi na raw n’ya crush, pero hanggang ngayon nasa lock screen picture ng phone.

Kung may taong tatakbuhan mo para sa skin care routine, siya ‘yon. Minsan bigla nalang tutunog ang phone niya para sabihin na mag-skin care na. Siya ay tagadala ng ligaya sa publikasyon. Hindi ka mababagot kapag kakwentuhan mo siya.

Seryoso siya kung titingnan, ngunit may tinatago ring kulit. Minsan na siyang natalo sa uno at nasagot ang tanong kung “Puwede bang i-photocopy ang mukha?”

Kapag gumihit na siya, ‘wag ka ng huminga. Sa puti niyang uniform, kapag humawak na siya ng itim na tinta, masasabing mabibigyang kulay niya ang kahit ano mang iguhit niya.

JELLY

KIM

YZZA

Kontiserang miyembro na masayahin sa buhay at mabungisngis. Pag ngumiti siya, pwede mo na siyang kuhanan ng litrato. Sobrang photogenic at anytime pwedeng gawing cover girl.

Bukod sa pagsulat ng mga tula, hobby din niya ang pagtatanim ng cactus sa kanilang bakuran. Kahit na matinik ang kanyang mga alaga, isang sweet at mabungisngis siyang tao.

Isang aktibong mag-aaral at ipinapahayag niya ang kanyang dadamin sa pamamagitan ng pagguhit. Maliban dito’y hilig niya rin ang magbasa ng mga libro at makipagbonding sa kanyang alagang aso.

ALANNA

MICHAEL

FAITH

“Uuwi pa ako ng Lupao,” ang lagi niyang sambit tuwing siya’y inaaya. Loyal na loyal siya kay Do Kyungsoo at asawa niya ito sa kanyang pag-iisip. Paboritong manunulat ng kaniyang mga kaibigan.

Inilalarawan niya ang mga bagay-bagay sa pamamagitan ng kanyang angking kakayahan sa pagguhit. Mukhang astigin tignan pero isa siyang taong mapagpakumbaba.

Hilig niya ang pagtugtog ng ukulele habang sinasabayan ng mayuming pagkanta. Sa mahinahon niyang pagsasalita, marami siyang kwento at pananaw sa buhay. Kasalukuyan silang may love quarrel ng saging.

MAU

YSABELLE

DANA

Tahimik siya pero kapag nagumpisa na siyang sumulat, dadalhin ka niya sa iba’t-ibang lugar at bubuksan niya ang isipan mo. Kung hindi nagsusulat, madalas siyang nasa loob ng isang libro.

Minsan mabilis siyang magsalita, lalo na sa mga bagay na sobra siyang naaapektuhan. Masarap siyang kakwentuhan sa lahat ng bagay at handa niyang ipaglaban ang mga taong malapit sa kanya.

Isang mabait na apo si Dana. Mahilig siyang manuod ng anime kaya minsan kapag naglalakad siya tatakbo siya na parang si Naruto.

Genré

Academic Year 2019-2020

Hannah Marie Olanda Editor-in-Chief

John Vincent Pascual Managing Editor for Finance

Mark Joseph Nunez, Levi Bautista

John Mark Santiago

Managing Editor for Administration

Associate Editors

Georliza Pascual Opinion Editor

Justine Jade Tuates

Developmental Communication Editor

Pia Ada Xena Valerio Art Director

Aira Jeranne Wycoco Prince Cedie Corpuz Russel Manubay Paulo Mari Supena Cartoonists

Aloha Balbuena News Editor

Athina Bales Literary Editor

Jayson Gabriel Garcia Multimedia Director

Jon Francis Balagan Photojournalist

Gerald Lara Videojournalist

Ezra Mae Dimapawi Features Editor

Jacquilyn Javate Sports Editor

Sharina Mel Adriano Circulations Director

Dominic Pangilinan Rose Anne Corpuz Jenine Maricar Barnachea Jenina Marie Lipana Staff Writers

Clarence Jairra Javate · Michael Roman · Roice Mico Nieves · Jazmine Tumibay · Genesis Faith Veloso · Julius Corpuz Jamaika Gwen Garcia · Ysabelle Fernandez · Jessica Maureen Gaurano · Melvin Clarence Dowes · Kim Clarisse Zabat Laarni Bernardo · Christine Joy Mactal · Christian Ivan Pallorina · Edcristina Salmos · Dana Capones · Annika Tugaff Alanna Soriano · Jelly Ann Arceta · Yzza Marielle Ectin · Roaila Honey Rose Iniwan Trainees

Mr. Emmanuel John Pangan Technical Adviser