CYMO June 2020 Issue

CYMO

CYMO vol. 16, JUNE 2020

EDITORIAL POLICY. CYMO is published once every year as the official Literary Folio of John B. Lacson Colleges Foundation (Bacolod), Inc., Pauline Village, Alijis, Bacolod City. The Carrier accepts original articles from students and faculty. We edit contributed articles and provide correction for write-ups that need modification or improvement. All contributors must be legibly written and double spaced. All submitted articles automatically become properties of The Carrier. All rights reserved. Copyright reverts to the respective authors, photographers, and artists whose works appear in this issue.

Cover by C HRYSHAN NHEIL ALEJANO Cover Concept by REY PHILIP GALLOS Photos by JOH N DALE K AW Contributors CARLO MIGUEL BARODI REY PHILIP GALLOS & KEN T BJ HORTILLO SA Models ZAY RHA AR AYA HEART BARUC & GREG M ARTIN GALV E Layout by RUER TORCULAS & WALTER M ISPENAS

PROLOGUE In the midnight hour, when the moon is full A doorway starts to open To the wandering minds, To the lonely hearts, A voice calling them in Where everything you think you know Becomes nothing you thought you knew. And in this timeless era, Where all or nothing makes sense, Possibilities of what were once pipe dreams Become palpable, tangible truths. The bird is prey to the worm, The cotton plant stands tall and firm, Money does grow on trees, But honey is not made by bees, A stone is lighter than air, The sea is shallow and bare, A skyscraper ends in a swirl, You manage to get the girl. And in this frenzy of randomness, The morning sun pulls you back out. It was all just a dream or so it would seem, But the back of your mind houses doubt. As you wake in both mind and body To reality — once rigid and stiff, You can’t keep yourself from pondering ‘Bout all the wondrous what if’s. So when midnight comes once again, Let your mind and heart dangle on a cliff. When the doorway opens, let go and fall Into the world of what if’s.

words by R E Y P H I L I P G A L L O S illustration by R U E R T O R C U L A S

CONTENTS C HAP TE R I

past 3

Daydreams are for Losers

Memories on Faded Photograph

Ashes

If I could go back

Polarities

if I said yes...

Mababalikan pa ba?

Panakip Butas

Inang Liyag

Kahapong 'di Magbabalik

Tanong na walang sagot

'Gusto mo ba ng ice cream?'

Paglisan

Gising sa Katotohanan

Sea of Possibilities

C HAP TE R I I

pRESENT 27

Yes

If my heart could speak

Sr. > Jr. Paranoid

Queer

33 34 35

Choices Matter The Abyss Hidden Corridors of Fame

The Grace of Mediocrity

Lost in Translation

Saan Tayo Patungo

Asocena

Masalimuot na Kadena

Gunam gunam

Bituin

C HAP TE R I I I

future 49

Worth Prophetic Omen

Neverland

Withering Home by a Greedy Heart

Checkmate

Presence in

Theirs, not mine

A Moment of Silence

Vista

What if I'm yours and you are mine?

Wings of dreams

Judas

Desert of Dreams

What if we humans never existed?

Retrospect

From, Ben

1944

Bituin

Equatorial Summer

iii

kickback We tend to go back, Long before everything has happened. When the doors has already been closed, And the arms of time has gone by. We fail everyday, As we prefer ease rather than struggle. Sin rather than what is righteous. Hatred rather than forgiveness. We possess no clock, Getting ahead of the future. Time lapsing grieving scenarios. Constructing various roads to proceed one. Let us be honest, What-ifâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s will remain as what-ifâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s. Your thoughts will not move for you. Your plans will not even materialize Your KICKBACK is what it needs.

words by Z A Y B E R A R A Y A illustration by R U E R T O R C U L A S

Daydreams are for Losers PAUL IVAN QUE ZON

He was the perfect guy With a perfect name. To say it was all a lie Will never be the same. I loved him so much. I still feel the pain. I have never felt such; It drove me insane. We were separated by waters. He was across the narrow sea. My mind filled with wonders. It was only him I see. But I have to clear my mind Of memories of you. Love was truly blind When I realized you didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t love me, too. You used to be in my head; Clouded my vision. Now you are the tears in my bed And I my failed mission. Maybe you deserve better Or maybe I do. This would be my last letter Addressed to you.

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Memories on a Faded Photograph J O S H UA M A L A P I TA N

Memories kept in photographs, A single film tells millions of stories, Of a heart with an infinite happiness. Time stops ticking, Every time I am with you. Every beat of the heart was felt, Throbbing like boss of a playing music. Yet here comes the time, Where hue from the photographs fade. Seems like my universe became gray. Those memories kept were vanished, Breaking every piece of my puzzled heart. Still I couldn’t find answers, Of all the ‘what if’ moments. ‘What if we chose to stand for love?’ ‘What if you stayed?’ Would everything remain vividly the same? Or will be a room full of mess?

illustration by R U E R T O R C U L A S

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Ashes

MARK JOHN PRIOLO

I woke up from a nightmare. I couldn’t even say that I had sleep. Last night, a call from the army changed my whole life; I was drafted for the army. That is all that it takes to ruin my dreams, even when I’m wide awake. I went to the kitchen and saw my family sitting around the table. My parents were crying and wiped off their tears as soon as they saw me. My little sister came rushing to me, clinging around my legs. As I sit down with them, my hands began to feel cold against the wooden surface of the table.

I’m afraid.

The time has come for me to leave; to bid farewell to everyone I know. The next thing I know, I was bursting in tears and embracing the people I love as tight as I could. Unsure if this would be the last time I’ll see them. As the bus leaves, driving me far from my home until it disappears from my sight, I started feeling chills run down my spine. My hands cold as ice. My heart beating fast against my chest. My mind wanders to the possibilities of my imminent death. When we arrived at the military base camp, the bus halted in front of a huge building. A man in uniform, which I believe was a General swooped into the bus and stood beside the bus drvier. “Good morning, gentlemen,” he said. “You are called here today because your country needs you. You are here to serve her and make her proud.” Once he

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was finished with his speech, we all started filing out of the bus. We were led to our tents and told us we have to prepare for the training at once. We were taught how to handle rifles, until some of us made it to qualify for snipers. Some chose to be medics, but all of us were taught to kill. The longer we stayed in the camp, I came to know a few people. And most of them just finished college and others who you think should have a better future than this. A few months later, we were armed for war. I was in the vanguard. Even though we have completed multiple courses to prepare us for this day, I’m still afraid, nervous, and I think I’m going to have a breakdown. I looked at the faces of my comrades; all with the same shock and fear visibly seen in their faces. Some even have to throw up before arriving in the warzone. The cold wind doesn’t help either. It triggers our fear. Fear of the moment that my heart would stop forever, leaving me lifeless in a strange place beside friends and enemies.

Then came an explosion.

The giant fume of smoke made the whole place dark. I couldn’t see anything. When the smoke dissipated, I saw blood everywhere. The truck we rode on the way here exploded with a lot of bodies scattered around it. I feel a buzzing sound in my ear and I’m getting nauseaous. Then another bomb came and I blacked out. It fell a few meters away from me and when I open my eyes again, all I see are ashes. A picture of my family flashes before me. Memories of my past ever since I was a child. I could even see my future. It was a good one. I hope it will be. I guess its true when they say your life flashes before you when you’re dying. I was drifting off to somewhere. I wish wars were never known to men. Ashes fell from the sky. And I fell with it.

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If I could go back JOSHUA M ALAPITAN

Sitting on a chair beside our window, I looked at the stars sparkling up above, And the moonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s smiling at me, As tears dripped down my face. Reminiscing nothing but happiness, Times where things seem endless. I can still draw that genuine smile in me, Only if I could bring back memories. Making myself believe that it is not my fate. Creating reasons not to disappoint and agitate. Yet the truth hits me like waves. Crashing until I drown and not to escape. Things will never be the same, Memories of the past left me in pain. How I wish time machines are devised, With just a push of a button, past is rewind. Yet memory is the only thing I hold on to, Neither man nor catastrophe can break that truth. Only if I could turn back time, So, my beloved wonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t bid goodbye.

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illustration by J O S H U A W I L S O N M I R A N D A

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Polarities PAUL IVAN QUEZON

I met my self once — in a dream. I was nine years old, playing with toy

soldiers under the tree behind our house. It was a windy afternoon. The rustling of the leaves is the only sound making up the silence.

He looked in my direction, but those big innocent eyes are looking past me.

I cocked my head to one side and saw my childhood friends running towards me. Their loud shrieks made the dogs bark in an alert. They huddled together under the shade of the tree, although the heat wasn’t as painful as it was in the present. They were happy. We were happy.

I just watched from where I stood. Realizing I’ve been smiling for a while

when tears began to water around my eyes. They never noticed me. They were too busy sharing each others toys, giving them names and dialogues. I’ve had a few happy moments in my life, and I’d give everything to do it all again.

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photo by F R E E P I K

If he could see me right now, he might wish he’d never grow up. He would

look at me wide-eyed with a hundred questions flooding in his head. I don’t even think he’ll recognize me. With all the changes in my body after a couple of years, he’ll be frightened. I’m still afraid of my self right now. I don’t think I’ll rid myself of this fear.

I would love to embrace him. Give him the comfort he won’t receive in a

few years. Give him the courage to face the future. Make him feel loved when the world hates him. But I don’t want to ruin this moment. I don’t think he even knew this is the last time he would ever play with his friends under the tree; he would never introduce a girl in front of his parents. He would create changes in his body that a lot of people would hate him for it. I don’t think he knew there would be countless nights he would cry in his sleep. Countless nights he wouldn’t sleep sober. Countless nights he would be alone.

Then my younger self stared at me, and he wasn’t surprised. He didn’t

flinch. He just looked at me with those big innocent eyes and a sly smile. I smiled back.

I didn’t dare approach him and warn him of what lies ahead. The future

might favor him some time. He could still live a better life than I did. So I turned around and walked away, proud of my self for finally letting go.

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if I said yes... FR ANZ GABRIEL BAYLON

If you know that a glass of wine can be easily shattered in a growing warm,

would you still pour coffee in it?

“Can we go out for a coffee?” You uttered in a troubled sound with

unconscious fidgeting feet.

“No. I won’t.”

That cracking voice of defiance broke your heart. But more than you know,

it breaks mine the most. I saw the shock in your face. Your freezing eyes don’t lie. You can’t believe that for the first in a million times, I dumped you.

But that was all when things aren’t well for the both of us.

They say that things would get better with time. It’s true. And it’s the truth

they see in our marriage. For five long, long years, the chasm between our lost souls have finally bonded. We live in a bungalow shaded by a sycamore tree in a lonely street behind the bustling city. For we both love peace and quiet. We seek nothing else than the mere presence of each other. It is enough. More than what we asked for.

In a gloomy afternoon reflected by the sunless spectrum of the sky and the

weary blowing of the wind, we looked at each other, waiting for each other’s invitation.

“Hon, coffee?” This time, I gave in first.

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illustration by R U E R T O R C U L A S

“Nope.”

“What…? Why?”

“Don’t asked me the question you should’ve answered then.”

Your eyes are boiling. I can see the discomfort in you. The tears streaming

down your face are as tragic as the grudge you hold for years. That night, I know you have something to say. And you invited me for a cup of coffee because you know that it is the only thing I couldn’t resist in this frickin’ world. But I did, for the first and last time.

I said that crispy nasty ‘no’ because I don’t want to hear the words you could

have said. Because I know, that night, you will tell me that you haven’t yet moved on from your past, from Jacob. You still loved him. And that you will always love him over me. So no, because I’m not giving up on you and I will wait until you could invite me with the intent of telling that finally, you are done with him and that you love me.

“But how do you know that I love you for real?”

“I know you. I know everything about you. I know it’s real love since you

love me because that’s what you feel not because I loved you first.”

“Still. You don’t know the possibilities. If you said yes…”

“Raf, if I said yes, there wouldn’t be an us now.” Cutting through before you

speak of the past.

You closed your undying ragged lappy, grabbed my hands, hold them tight

and walked me through the café bar.

You leaf through the pages of your paperback books. I listen to my

audiobooks.

“One cinnamon coffee and a glass of water please.”

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Mababalikan pa ba? STEPHEN GIL EUGICO

Lumingon ako sa paligid, Kay ganda ng tanawin, Mga punong sumasayaw, Kasabay ng mga ibong humihiyaw. Kay gandang pagmasdan, Mga batang nagkukulitan, Naglalaro ng bahay-bahayan, Habulan at tagu-taguan. Kay sarap balikan, Mga alaala ng kabataan, Kung hindi lang nagdaan ang mga oras, Ang kasiyahan ay walang wakas. Gusto ko man sanang balikan, Mga alaalang nagdaan, Ngunit sa mga oras na ito, Akoâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;y magiging isang alaala nalang din naman. Dumuyan ako, Sa punong aking kinalakihan, Natulog ng kay himbing, At iniwan ang lahat ng pinagdaanan.

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Panakip Butas ARTHUR FRE DE RIC OME L AN

Isang gabi napuno ng kalungkutan. Lumuluha maging ang kalangitan. Ngunit magandang ngiti mo ay nasilayan, Ang puso’y muling nabuhayan. Ikaw sana’y lalapitan nang aking namasdan Pumapatak ang iyong luha ng ‘di ko mawari ang dahilan. Batid kong napakabigat ng iyong nararamdaman. Puso’y tila nawasak at nasasaktan. ‘Di na nagdalawang isip, ikaw ay nilapitan. At ikaw sa’kin ay naglabas ng dinaramdam na tila batang luhaan. Nang lumaon, di ko na maipaliwanag ang aking nadarama. Tuluyan na akong umiibig sa ganda mo aking sinta. Nagdaan ang panahong di namalayan, Akala ko’y ligayang wala nang hanggan. Ngunit itong pag-ibig ay pinahiram, Ipinalasap lamang sa pusong nag-aasam. Isang araw bumalik ang iyong nakaraan. Nagsusumamo at humihingi ng iyong kapatawaran. Agad siyang pinatawad at ako’y iniwan. Sana ‘di na kita nakilala ng ‘di na nasaktan.

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Inang Liyag ARTHUR FRE DE RIC OME L AN

Siyam na buwan ika’y nagtiis at nagsakripisyo. Buhay ay nilagay sa alanganin at ‘yan ang totoo. Ngunit ‘di nagsisi sa mga sakit na natamo Upang ang munting musmos ay masilayan ang mundo. Unang pagbigkas ay iyong inabangan. Sa bawat pagkatutong humakbang ika’y nariyan, Karga-karga ng ‘di alintana ang aking bigat, Sa pagmamahal ay ‘di mo ako sinalat. Ni lamok ay ‘di mo gustong kumagat. At ‘di ka mapakali sa tuwing ako ay nilalagnat. Sinubaybayan mo ang aking paglaki. Di mapapantayan ang ngiting dulot mo sa aking labi. Nung lumaki ako ay naging palasagot. Sa bawat napagdadaanan ika’y nalilimot. Hinihingi mo’ng atensyon ay aking pinagdadamot. Minsan ay nagtatanim pa sa’yo ng galit at poot.

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illustration by WA L T E R M I S P E ÑA S

Habang ikaw ay tumatanda, humihingi ka ng kalinga, Ngunit sukli ko ay pagkainis at pagsawalang bahala. Tinuring na pabigat at puro lang pasanin. Ngunit ni isang salita, wala kang sinabi sa’kin. Sa bawat pagkainis ko sa’yo, Pagmamahal pa din ang sinukli mo. Naghahanap ako ng pagmamahal sa iba, Ngunit ‘di ko nakikitang andyan ka lang pala. Ng aking napagtantong yakap mo ang aking hanap, Tila oras ko’y ‘di nauubos at hindi na sapat Upang sabihin sa’yong minamahal kita ng walang katapat At sa mga paghihirap mo, ako sana’y magpapasalamat. Ang taong nagbigay sa’kin ng pag-ibig na walang hanggan, Ngayo’y tuluyan na akong nilisan. Kung sana noon pa sinabi ko na sayo’ng mahal kita, Napadama ko sanang mahal kita nung ika’y buhay pa.

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Kahapong ‘di Magbabalik ARTHUR FRE DE RIC OME L AN

Nakatulala, ‘di makapaniwala, Nanghihina at tila nabibigla. Ang pagtigil ng tibok ng iyong puso Ay siya ring pagtigil ng aking mundo. ‘Di mapigil ang pagpatak ng mga luha Dahil sa sakit na nadarama ng pusong nauulila. Sa paglisan mo’y iniwang wasak ang puso ko. Ngayon ako’y nagsising nagkakilala tayo. Nasasaktan ang puso ko ng nasa piling ka na ng iba. Sana sa paggising ko wala na itong pag-ibig na nadarama. Sapagkat nasanay ang pusong ikaw ang nagpapasaya. Ngayon ako’y nagsisisi kung bakit nagpakatanga. Nakaupo ako sa madilim na sulok ng kwadradong kwarto. Nagtatanong, ano nga ba ang buhay ko kung ‘di naging tayo? Kaya pipiliting bumangon, mula sa sakit ng nakaraan. Pamilya, sarili, at pangarap nalang muna ang pagtutuunan.

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Tanong na walang sagot ARTHUR FRE DE RIC OME L AN

Dulot mo’y isang panaginip na sa bawat gabi ay laging naiisip, Parang isang pangarap na mula sa malayo ay hinid masilip. Walang kasiguraduhan ang lahat ng ito Pero mas pinili kong magtiwala sa mga salitang nanggaling sa’yo. Sa araw-araw ako’y umaasa na darating ang panahon na tayo’y magsasama. Bitbit ang mga pangako mo sa sulat lang nababasa. Bawat salita mo ay nagbigay pag-asa sa puso kong nangungulila Na balang araw ikaw at ako ay magkikita. Ika’y misteryosong tao na pinagkatiwalaan ko. Lahat ibinigay pati puso’t kaluluwa ko. Hindi ko akalain na magmamahal ako ng isang katulad mo Na kahit minsan hindi nakita ng dalawang mata ko. Nawala na ang lahat ng pangarap nating dalawa Nang ako’y ipinagpalit mo sa iba. At kahit paulit-ulit kong itanong sa iyo kung bakit, Wala pa ring sagot sa lahat ng sakit. Paano kung hindi naglaho ang pagmamahal mong ipinadama? Paano kung tinupad mo ang pangakong tayo’y magsasama? Ako ba’y magiging masaya sa paglipas ng panahon, O mananatiling tanga sa kasinungalingan ng kahapon?

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‘Gusto mo ba ng ice cream?’ KENT BJ HORTILLOSA

Ano ba yung problema sa tanong kong ‘yan? Na bakit tuluyan mo na akong iniwan? Akala ko ba paborito mo ‘yang pagkain, Bakit ba naman oh, hindi pa kita kayang palayain. Naaalala ko pa nung una tayong nagkakilala, Nagkabuholbuhol ba naman kasi yung ating mga saranggola. Sa bawat hakbang mo papunta sa’kin ay mistulang may mahika. Parang biro man pero unang kita ko pa lang sa’yo Alam ko na itinadhana tayo. Yung mga tampuhan, asaran, iyakan, harutan at tawanan Akala ko ba “walang hanggan”? Ba’t ko pa ba kasi binabalikan? Iniisip sa bawat nakaraan. Hindi kasi patas eh, bakit ba kasi? Ayaw mo na ba talaga sa icecream? Bakit mo pa ba kasi sa akin linihim? ‘Yan yung una mong pinapabili sa’kin tuwing malungkot ka. Kaya nga mas minahal pa kita dahil lang sa ice cream na ‘yan, Ika’y aking napapasaya. Masakit man at labag man sa aking damdamin. Sana’y makakalimutan na kita’t wag ng isipin. Sana’y masaya ka diyan kasama siya. Sana nga’y alam niya kung paano ka mapapasaya.

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Pero sana naman, Sinabi mo man lang sa akin ang iyong nararamdaman. Kung kamusta ang iyong kalusugan.. Dahil ba ‘yan sa ice cream? Kung bakit sa’kin kalagayan mo’y kinikimkim. Andito lang naman ako parati para sa’yo. Kahit anong mangyari, hindi ako lalayo. May brain tumor ka pala, Tapos nung kumain tayo ng ice cream, akala ko brainfreeze lang. Pero yun na pala ang iyong iniinda. Sana sinabi mo man lang sakin. Hindi ko man lang napansin. ‘Yun na pala ang huli kong tanong sa’yo, Yung huling pagkakataon na maririnig ko boses mo. Hindi mo man lang ito sinagot. Labis talaga akong nalungkot. Tinext ko si mama mo, Kung ano yung nagyari sa’yo. Nagka-seizure ka raw, sinugod sa ospital. Tapos binibigkas mo ‘yung pangalan ko. Masaya na sana ako kasi hinahanap mo ako, Kaso kasabay nito ang sakit at kirot ng ulo mo.

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Ako’y napaluha dahil naririnig kita sa telepono ng mama mo. Dala-dala ko pa yung cookies and cream na iyong paborito. Traffic pa kaya tumakbo na lang ako. Hindi ko na alam kung pawis at luha pa ‘yung pumapatak Sa sobrang alala ko sa’yo. Pagdating ko Nagtinginan sa akin ang mga tao. Sino ba naman yung hindi hihingilin? Biglang lumabo ng sandali ang aking paningin. Malapit na ako, Papunta na ako... Marami pa yung nakapila sa elevator kaya ako’y naghagdan. Pagbukas ko ng pinto’y may mga nag-iiyakan. Sa wakas nakita na kita, Pero hindi ka na humihinga. Dala-dala ko pa rin yung paborito mong ice cream oh, Kaso ito’y natunaw Kagaya ng mundo ko, Mistulang nagunaw. Hindi ko talaga kayang mawala ka . Pero wala akong magagawa. Nangyari na. Kung maibabalik ko lang ang panahon Sa tuwing kumakain ako ngayon ng ice cream, Naaalala kita. Namimiss na kita. Mahal na mahal kita.

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Paglisan JOH N R EY UR BANO ZO

Para bang ikaw ay hulog ng kalangitan. Sa tingin mo pa lang ako ay nasisilawan. Marahil ay natamaan mo ang puso ko. Biglang-bigla sayoâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;y nagkagusto. Ang pusong nagpahinga at natulog, Nanumbalik ang sigla at muling nahulog, Susubok ulit, wala nang atrasan. Haharapin ang lahat ng walang pag-aalinlangan. Isang taon na tayong nagmahalan. Nangako sa isaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t-isa na walang iwanan. Ngunit bakit bigla kang nag iba? Ang mainit nating relasyon ay unti-unting nanlamig na. Isang hakbang nalang at ikaw ay lilisan, Mula ulo hanggang paa ako ay pinapawisan. Paano kung hindi pa buo ang iyong desisyon? Sana makapiling ka pa sa mahabang panahon.

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Gising sa Katotohanan JOSHUA MALAPITAN

Habang kami ay nasa loob ng sasakyan, hindi maikaila ‘yung tuwa na aking

nadarama sapagkat pupunta kami ulit kasama ang minamahal kong ina sa paborito naming pasyalan— ito ay sa isang mall.

“Sige na anak, kunin mo na lahat ng gusto mo basta pasok lang sa badyet

natin.” Ito ang malimit kong naririnig kay nanay sa tuwing kami’y papasyal sa mall. Tila bang may kampanang tumunog saaking tenga at dali-dali naman akong tumakbo sa isang sikat na tindahan ng mga damit.

“Nay, bagay ba ‘to sa’kin?”, “Eh eto naman, nay?” tanong ko sa kanya habang

sinusubukan kong suotin ang mga napili kong damit.

“Pogi nitong bunso ko ah! Nagbibinata na talaga!” pabola n’yang sagot sa’kin.

Napakasaya ko sa mga oras na iyon dahil mahilig talaga ako na mangolekta

ng mga damit. Paulit-ulit akong nagpapasalamat sa kanya habang kami ay nagbabayad ng aming mga pinamili. Pagkatapos ng aming pamimili ay niyaya

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niya naman akong kumain sa isang mamahaling restawrant. Siyempre wala nang paligoy-ligoy pa at pumayag din ako. Habang nasa hapagkainan ay napag-usapan naman namin ‘yung mga ‘di malilimutang mga bagay na nagyari noon: mga kaarawan, ang unang laruan na kanyang binili, at iba pang mga alaala na bumuo sa aking napakasayang buhay.

Sa kalagitnaan ng aming masayang pag-uusap ay tila may bumulabog sa

akin at parang naudlot lahat ng mga pangyayari ng biglang…

“Hoy Arturo! Okay ka lang ba?! Ba’t parang kanina ka pa diyan nakatunganga

sa bintana? Ano nanaman ba ang iniisip mo?!”

Ako nama’y naalimpungatan at sa pagdilat ng aking mga mata ay doon ko

lamang napagtanto na nananaginip lamang pala ako ng gising.

Ako nga pala si Arturo. Nakatira sa lugar kung saan payak ang pamumuhay

at tanging pagsasaka at pangangahoy ang pangunahing pinagkakakitaan ng aking mga magulang.

Labing tatlo kaming magkakapatid at ako ‘yung panganay. Simula pagkabata

ay namulat na ako sa buhay na kailanman ay hindi ko pinangarap. Maaga akong nahinto sa pag-aaral dahil sa hirap ng buhay. Kaya sa tuwing nakakakita ako ng pamilyang may masaya at mayamang pamumuhay, ay napapaisip ako at napapatanong sa sarili ko.

Paano kaya kapag ganito ang buhay na tinatamasa ko? Siguro ibang-iba

talaga ang ikot ng aking mundo.

Mahirap man ngunit sinusubukan kong maiangat ang estado ng aming

buhay dahil gusto kong tuparin lahat ng “sana” ko sa buhay.

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Sea of Possibilities JOSHUA M ALAPITAN

Paddling on a tiny canoe, In a sea full of unimaginable possibilities. Uncertainty of where to go and what to do. Yet instead of going back, he continued. In the middle of wandering, He saw an undiscovered canal. Curious of whatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s inside, He entered amid of a clueless mind. Covered by lush green trees As the birds sing while leaves dance, He found peace and tranquility. A fascination he never imagined. But slowly, those hands are feeble of paddling Realizing that he has gone too far. Knowing somethingâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s coming off his way, He persisted and continued. Delighted by the wilderness he saw, Every corner seems perfection. Until he stopped paddling Wondering what would be his destiny if he surrendered.

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PAST

Yes ELISEO FANGUNIL

Everything is white and rosy. Heart’s pounding; peaked my neck. In my ears knocking. Shimmering lovely lady Walking before me. Tears dripping All over my countenance, I can’t stop. For this moment I take part A very sacred moment Blessed from above. A scenery where hearts unite By both lives vowing, “I do”. And end to begin a new start In sickness and health will they depart. It was all apparently true, Until you said, “No.”

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PRESENT

If my heart could speak K E N T BJ HORT I LLO SA

Tantrums and tears filled the space. Both hear out but no one listens. Speaking like there is a race— An endless war of reasons. My heart isn’t happy at all; Pumping blood with raging anger. Telling my brain to stop the battle. Loosen up the pride for me to feel better. Sometimes, I overreact small things. I’m just being open of how I feel. Sorry for the ache it brings. I make everything a big deal. You and I will reach the peak. My love for you is undeniably true. Tsugug! If only my heart could speak... It knows, all I want was the best for you.

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PRESENT

photo by R O N A L B E R T L I B O S A D A

Paranoid RON ALBE RT LI BO SADA

What if I did my best? My thoughts every midnight Thinking if I were at my best Maybe everything would be alright

Sr. > Jr.

Is being good not enough? Should I please people with all my best?

ELISEO FANGUNI L

Leaving me unhappy and exhausted Maybe I should give it a rest. Maybe it’s not that bad

I would have been boasting Air composed my head. For I surpass the free-lance Behind, 20% discounted man. But time won’t allow, For it knows the future, That ill dump the discount;

Me being my best self. It’s just my thoughts that are bad. That it’ll be a burden for myself. I worry too much and it’s a bad thing I worry too much thinking I’ll mess up everything.

Will top the podium, victor! Truth, humbled my head; Altered my course. Calmed my heart, To what’s my real purpose. His deprived dream, I claimed, living it; His intangible imagination, I, latter reality. PRE SEN T

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Queer ALLEN TORDE SILL AS

She kept on popping inside my head. Her name was delicate as her face. Surely, sheâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a woman that is hard to find. I was in awe by her alluring grace. Her presence was majestic. Hands of a goddess, gentle and soft. She was made by pure aesthetic. My heart melts, away from the frost. But I adore other masculinity. Every biceps and every beard Makes me want to surrender my virginity. My true identity is still unheard. I am a living man with a womanâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s heart; If only I could change my soul and mind So I could properly play my part To be with the woman that is hard to find.

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PRESENT

illustration by C H R Y S H A N N H E I L A L E J A N O

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Choices Matter JOSHUA M ALAPITAN

I asked myself once: “What if I can read everyone’s minds?” Will my life still revolve in its axis? Or will it drift on a distinct path? Will there be serenity or would just be the start of dissidence? Will it give me caution or would just envy others? Will it strengthen my faith or will it distract my trust? Would my feelings be the same or would cease to exist? Will there be arguments or would understand other’s viewpoint? Will I be conscious of my actions or would it just fuel the fire inside? Ask yourself, too. Our choices matter.

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The Abyss MARK JOHN PR IOLO

Feeling of unease Keeps creeping in my peace Showing no mercy Killing me slowly Crawling on my crippled body Devouring my mind becomes handy Vulnerable of any attack Even a single touch was a mental shock There comes paranoia Swallowed me whole to be my gala Gala that covered my mentality Every move was fatality Every second was crucial Feeling of life was unessential Unexplainable emotion Waiting to be laid in crucifixion Agony of isolation Deepened by self-destruction No one can bear it No one can save it Needed was a single word For hope to conquer his world If only there was a friend, a family All it takes was to understand thy agony PRE SEN T

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Hidden Corridors of Fame MARK JOHN PRIOLO

I came walking through fame and fortune as people applaud in awe. Nothing

stops me from what I desire. I am a Cadillac who stood atop from all glamour and class—a beauty that makes everyone crazy enough to pay millions just to get me.

A world class actor and a renowned model living in luxury — that’s how

people perceived me. My whole life was about chasing my dreams, gaining wealth and foraging fame. I have given up everything to reign; leaving all the people who are loyal to me in exchange to the addictive sway of satisfaction; and losing the affection of those who truly cared. I indulged myself into the happiness and joy brought by money and popularity. I did not even noticed that the treasure that I should have kept was slowly being snatched away.

Moment per moment, success upon success, the puzzle that makes up the

persona known by my family is gradually breaking into pieces; went astray from the place where I should be. The self that I know for a long time was gone, nothing but a trace of broken memories that tingles through the passage of my past life, that even I could not reach.

As I again walk amidst the crowd of cheering people, a sudden change of

desire disturbs my core. I’m in the conference but my mind was like in the other dimension. There! Right at that moment I asked myself “What if?” What if I did not choose fame? What if I did not let go my family? What if the choice I made was never really the right choice?

That time, I chose not to mind all other possibilities, I hastened through the

door not thinking of what other people may say,”I should have brought it back! Enough of the fame and money , I should chase back my family. I need them more than anything.” I will never let go of the “What if” of my life that I had once forsaken. I will win the race on chasing the pieces of my life, my greatest ‘what if’ my one and only FAMILY.

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PRESENT

photo by J O H N D A L E K A W

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The Grace of Mediocrity FR ANZ GABRIEL BAYLON

First time I met you, I didn’t like you. You don’t even look like a human.

You have that broad stretches of forehead on your face, spacious enough for an aircraft landing. Your olive skin is as crispy as the whole roasted pig my family feasted on the table — which is for the record, the only food I hate.

Getting lost in the woods is a usual loosen up for me. As placid river rushed

around my feet and the wind blew from the mountaintop, I embraced myself, realizing that I am all alone. And the only friend I have is silence. I’ve been urging for that serenity in my life. Then you came. But your silence is the most annoying peacefulness, ever.

Little by little, bit by bit, as the divine wind took me to your system, reality

slapped me with its mystery. So hard that your forehead is the only thing I want to kiss. So hard that your skin is the only comfort I seek. So hard that your silence, made me fall in love with you — more than the cold friend I had in the woods. You were never really a human — my angel.

I can’t remember that night when I carelessly blurted out my love to you.

You were surprised. You can’t believe that it happened. I even saw in your eyes how myriad of questions inundated your being. That night, I hoped time would be kind, even once. But it fleeted away and the moments lasted. I woke up late because of the hangover from the alcohol I drank last night, It was the very first time that I had tasted it in my life. I know my mom would reprimand me. But it’s the only thing that gave me courage.

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PRESENT

Days after you knew my feelings, you became silent again. I don’t know if

that’s your way of saying, “I don’t feel the same way.” You have given me hope — so much hope that I could dream of sunsets and sunrise and the beautiful explosion of condensed stars in the sky. You are so lovely. And I’m crazy in love of everything you are; of your preciously enigmatic existence.

Weeks after, you replied a rhetoric on the question that I wouldn’t want to

remember or say, “Aren’t you too good for me?” All of a sudden, my world tore apart. It broke me. Every time I remember you and those awful words, I look up at the sky so that tears won’t fall. I made myself busy so I could never think of it; If you’re sensitive enough to feel my pain, you’d knew that I am dying emotionally. No one underststood me, except for a very few people. They cared, but no one cared enough. So I went back to the woods, to the place where I cry out my soul, and the only thing that could hear me is my long lonely melancholic friend — the silence.

I never wanted to “make things difficult for you.” I never wanted to hurt you.

Because my burdens are not yours to bear. I love you so much that I had to let you go — from this hopeful soul full of romantic disillusionment.

The wind hugged me. I cried, my eyes dripped with blue tears, “ I wish I was

a mediocre! I wish I never had this life!”

But still the silence reminds me of you again, and this time with a lot of

people smiling before the crowd. They are my inspirations, motivations, and reasons of why I keep on embarking further milestones. Maybe sometimes, being too good is a curse and mediocrity offers grace.

I’m still hugging the wind…

I’m still listening to the comfort of silence…

But I hope I haven’t met you. Because you are too hard to forget.

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Lost in Translation PAUL IVAN QUEZON

I go to the same coffee shop everyday ordering the same coffee and sitting

on the same place. I’m not a huge fan of change, as you can see. But I just noticed there was something new with the square brown table. It has Japanese characters engraved on it, probably with a knife.

I took a picture and showed it to one of my friends teaching foreign

language. He said it means “hello” in English.

Kon’nichiwa. Yes, I am familiar with the translation.

The next morning, I did the same routine and now there was another word

next to it. So I asked my friend, again, to translate it for me. He said it reads, “Can we”.

Hello, can we… can we what?

It’s probably written by some Japanese dude who is too shy to ask a girl out.

Clever, I will give him that.

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PRESENT

Then the engraved words continue to form a phrase until it finally becomes

a sentence. Hello, can we be friends? Meet me here at sunset.

I asked one of the crew of the coffee shop if did he ever notice a Japanese

guy vandalizing one of their tables but he was only working until noon and nobody else sits in my table on his watch.

I became curious. I know I don’t like changes in my routine… or in my life.

However, the word “sunset”, I suppose, was only written yesterday, and that means the sunset today.

I went to grab lunch at a deli nearby and returned to the coffee shop with an

English-Japanese translation book with me.

It was almost sunset. The bright afternoon lights casts a glow inside the

dimly lit shop. The crystal cases glinting when the light touches its edges.

Then the telltale sound of the bell ringed. A young girl came in and sat on

one of the corners. She had her earphones on and her hair tied in a bun. She took out her books from her bag and went to the counter to order food. When she was done, she sat again and fished her phone from her pocket. Then another person went inside the shop. I didn’t dare look behind me that would make them think I was spying on them.

It was a man, judging from the scent of his perfume. When I thought he

would approach the girl focused on her phone, he was approaching… me.

photos by P A U L I VA N Q U E Z O N

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“Hi,” he said. I looked at his face and started regretting why I ever came

here. It was Kai, my ex-boyfriend.

He’s wearing a flannel shirt and denim pants. Like he usually does.

“Hi,” I said. “I see you’re in town?”

“Yes, I came home a week ago.” I see that he has been stalking me for a

week, “And I saw you regularly come to this coffee shop but I never really had the courage to go inside and see you. I’m afraid you’ll shut me out.”

Yes, I will definitely shut you out after what you did to me three years ago.

“But—” he continued, “I want to ask you one question. I’ll leave you alone

after you’ll answer it.”

My fingertips went cold. Where did I put myself in? I’m not prepared for any

of this and I definitely don’t want to be with Kai again.

This is too much. I have to go.

“I have to go,” I said, but as I was about to leave, he grabbed my hand and his

hand was warm against my cold skin.

“Please,” he pleaded. “Just one question.”

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photos by P A U L I VA N Q U E Z O N

I looked at him in the eye. “One question,” I confirmed.

He nods and I sit back down on my chair.

“If this is about you and me giving each other another chance, then you

definitely know my answer, Kai. I’m done. I’m done with you.”

“I’m here to ask you if—”

If what?

“If choices do matter. I want to know how you feel being lost in translation—

like how I want to communicate with you using Nihonggo, and I know you have friends expert on the language, but you are curious to know its meaning.

“So if I’m not too late, I would like to ask for a second chance, Lyanna.”

I took a deep breath.

I took a tissue from the table and scribbled something in Spanish. As I was

done, I left it on the table in front of him and left.

Estamos perdidos en la traducción, pero las elecciones que tomamos son

para bien. Adios Kai.

We are lost in translation but the choices we made are for the better good.

Goodbye, Kai.

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Saan tayo patungo ARTHUR FRE DE RIC OME L AN

Nalungkot ang buwan sa nasasaksihan, Lumuhang tahimik sa sulok ng damdam, At nakipagluhaan sa Poong Maylalang, Sa pagkasira ng kalikasang ‘di mapigilan. Ang hanging dati’y sariwa, ngayo’y nakakasulasok. Ang mundo’y tila nababalutan ng maitim na usok. Ang dagat at lawang dating tao ang lumalangoy, Ngayo’y dagat ng basura na nangangamoy. Unti-unting nawawasak ang inang kalikasan. Ngunit ang mga tao’y nagbubulag-bulagan. Luntiang kapaligiran ay unti-unting naglalaho. Inang kalikasan ay naghihingalo. Hanggang kailan ang ganitong suliranin. Paano na nga kaya ang hinaharap natin? Kung patuloy ang ating ‘di magandang gawain. Baka mahuli na ang lahat ng ‘di natin napapansin.

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Asocena ARTHUR FRE DE RIC OME L AN

Ika’y namasdan sa ‘di kalayuan Tila sa pana ni Kupido ako’y tinamaan, Ako’y napatulala sa iyong kakaibang kagandahan. Tunay na kariktan sa malayo’t malapitan. Naging mapagbiro itong takbo ng tadhana Sapagkat nabigyan ako ng pagkakataon na ika’y masilayan. Inaamin kong noon pa man ay palagi kitang pinagmamasdan. Hiling na kahit isang araw lamang ay mapagbigyan. ‘Di ko inaasahang ako’y naging masaya Sa pagdating mo sa mundo kong sa’yo ay umaasa. Kahit alam kong sa dulo ay iiwan mo ako. ‘Di ko alam kung hanggang kailan ang tayo. Isa, dalawa, tatlo, o hanggang labing tatlo. Alam kong hanggang diyan lang ang itatagal ng buhay mo. Ngunit ang bawat oras na meron tayo’y pagkakasyahin. Pipilitin ang ating bawat sandali ay sulitin. Dumating ang araw na aking kinatatakutan. Ang sandaling ika’y mamamaalam. Tila di nga mabubuo ang pangakong tayo hanggang dulo, Sapagkat ika’y nauna at ako’y iniwan mo. Paano kung nabigyan ako ng mahabang panahon na kasama ka? Naipadama ko pa sana sa buhay ko na ika’y mahalaga. Ngunit salamat bantay na ika’y nakilala. Hanggang sa muli, ‘di ka mawawaglit sa puso ko’t alaala. PRE SEN T

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Masalimuot na Kadena JOHN REY UR BANOZO

Hiling ko sana ay makalimot Sa mga gabing labis ang panaghoy. Luha ay hindi na mapipigilan sa pagdaloy. Lulan ng masalimuot na pagkabigo. Saksi ang orasan sa mga kadramahan. Ang unan ay nabugbog ng walang kasalanan. Ang sinag ng bituin ay unti-unting kumukupas. Mga mata ay tila naka kape at nanatili paring bukas. Paano kung pwede pa? Paano kung mahal pa kita? Paano na ang mga gabing kapiling ka? Paano na ang pangako mo na ako lang at wala nang iba? Ngayon ay babangon na ng maaga. Maganda ang gising at wala nang pinoproblema. Mga mata ay nanunumbalik ang sigla. Totoo na ngang nakawala na sa masalimuot na kadena.

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Gunam gunam GEROLD GERODIAS

Sana nung natapos, naging malinaw.

Nagugulumihanan ang aking isip sa mga bagay na ‘di nabigyang

kasagutan.

Sana imbis na dahilan at kasinungalingan ang ibinigay sa nauuhaw

kong kaluluwa, buong katotohanan na lamang ang aking handang lunukin hanggang sa kaibuturan ng aking pagkatao.

Paano kung nagkaintindihan tayo? Paano kung kahit hindi masaya,

pinilit intindihin ang isa’t-isa?

Paano kung sa gitna ng aking karimlan, ay hindi mo ako

pinabayaan? Paano kung sa gitna ng iyong kahinaan ay naging mas malakas ako at hinigitan ko pa ang sarili kong halaga? Paano kaya kung napansin mo ang aking pagdurusa?

Sa bawat kilos at salita mo’y animong kutsilyo na unti-unting

humihiwa sa aking balat, habang nilalaslas ang ugat bago bumaon sa aking kalamnan.

Kung ‘di ako nakaramdam ng labis na sakit at nakalasap ng pait, at

walang poot sa aking dibdib, maaari kong masambit sa’yo ang katagang ito, “Ayos lang ako, maging masaya ka na lamang sa buhay mo, dahil wala din akong ibang hangad kundi iyan rin para sa sarili ko.”

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Bituin JOSHUA M ALAPITAN

Ikaw ang bituin At ako naman ‘yung tao. Pinapalibutan mo ang mundo Sa bawat gabing malalim. Tila ika’y isang diyamante, Nagniningning, kumikislap. Pinipilit mang abutin Ngunit nakatadhanang ika’y malayo sa akin. Tinitingala kita sa gitna ng kalawakan. Bawat kislap mo’y pag-asa ang kalakip. Mailap man minsan ay pilit pa ring tinitiis, Makasulyap lang sa iyong angking kariktan. Ngunit paano kung ‘yung bituin na laging tinatanaw, Ay matabunan ng makapal na ulap? Ulap na tila nagagalit, dumadagundong, Nagbabadyang kunin Ang liwanag at kislap ng mahal kong bituin. Magpapatuloy pa rin ba sa pagtitig? O iwan na lang at palipasin Ang nakatadhanang di naman para sa’tin. At hintayin na lang ang umagang darating Na sisibol sa panibagong pagkakataon.

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Worth GEROLD GERODIAS

What if the rain never ends? What if time can never mend? What if the sky was never blue? What if the truth could never be true? What if there’s no truth in lies? No answers to questions?

Prophetic Omen

No assurances in doubts? No breeaking of promises? ALLE N TOR DE SI LL A S

What if there’s no appreciation in efforts? No reciprocation in affection? No trust in love? What if you can’t get what you must have? What if I told you you’re beautiful? What if I told you you’re to be appreciated? What if I told you you’re deserving? Because you are, you’re worth it.

Last night I had a dream Of a successful man’s portrait. Little by little, the man turned— It was me, I dreamed of my future. A person who have everything: Luxurious cars, Grand mansion, And all the health and wealth. But I smoke, Get myself drunk, Take illegal drugs, I even skip class for those three above. What if I change my habit? What if I stop my vices? What if I focus on my studies?

Will my dreams come true? CY M O

FUTURE

Neverland CARLO M IGUE L BARODI

Have you ever looked past the stars at night And asked yourself what it would be like to never grow up? To never have to worry about tomorrow, To be free from fear and sorrow, Free from all the pain. To see the world once again differently, So plain, so innocently, Where imagination carry us to places unknown, Where we may soar the skies, battle monsters all night, Pretend to be the people we like, laugh with all our might. Now wouldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t that be a delight To become children once more? But alas, there is no such thing. It is only a dream. For our childhood it would seem, So sleep, sleep and venture deep. Find the second star to the right, To Neverland we go. photo by J O H N D A L E K A W

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Withering Home by a Greedy Heart ALLEN TORDE SILL AS

The sun will stop shining soon. Our naked eye will only see the moon and stars. Innocent creatures are struggling to go home While humans start making it their tombs. What if we eradicate greed in our lives? Maybe everything will be better, no one will be deprived. Yet the future will greatly suffer, We ruined the planet and deprived our heirs. If we could only let compassion melt our hearts, The earth would not suffer, it will not tear, May we breathe the air in a placid meadow, Far from misfortune and adversities.

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FUTURE

illustrations by C H R Y S H A N N H E I L A L E J A N O

Checkmate PAUL I VAN QUE ZON

It is a fragile thingâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; love; All of us are bound by it. It creates us or destroys us. One could hope for the best Without compromising anything, But surely all wishes come with a price. That was when we start to think; Realizing if it is worth it. Who would you die for? What would you die for? You can hear your heart beating, But can you feel it pounding in your chest? You are just another chess piece Waiting to be a bait, So your King or Queen could survive, Yet you wonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t matter in the end. After all, you are just another chess piece.

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Presence in GEROLD GERODIAS

Absence of heat is cold. Absence of light is darkness. Absence of oxygen will cause suffocation. Absence of care will be neglection. What if there isn’t so much in this world? What if there’ll be warmth always? What if there’ll be light always? How would you appreciate the beauty of the night if there is much light? How would you appreciate the people who gives you warmth when you need it? What if there’s no oxygen to breathe in? There will be a lot more people suffering and struggling to gasp for air. What if there’s no care to tender in? There will be a lot more people looking comfort that could be received from someone who truly cares for whoever needs it. What if absence isn’t really there? Beauty in the opposite and appreciation in humanity wouldn’t exist. Presence of everything comes from absence of something.

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Theirs, not mine ELISEO FANGUNIL

Commitment, they prefer early I, traditional, after 30? Having kids too soon To retire and bask early, While me, kids at 33 Well, no difference, you and me A lot of kids, they prefer For the more the merrier Thought of more than one In fact, I, opt to have 3 Why compare myself and weary? Does it vary? Unique is how are lives are Successes, various ways to acquire Statuses, all in different and, Talents and gifts that were lend So, who says his ways are better than mine? You and I, standing in same parallel line Self-actualizations, we’ll reach that peak We’ll have the same ending, death So, who sets the standard? For he or she is just a mere fellow human being? Instead, do whatever suits you the best As long as it is right and just Don’t compare yourself to others.

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FUTURE

A Moment of Silence MARK JOHN PRIOLO

Power that rose deep within With unfathomable depth No one will dare to swim Latent as meteor as quiet as breeze Nullity it posses Fills the emptiness No one can fill With everything nor anything From pure peaceful dream Into a sullied rueful scream Screeching through the void Searching its way out from a sully soul Burst of outrage

A dream, the talent

Trapped inside a young man

Once held high for people to see

Facing on the verge of destruction

Slowly turning into ashes

Where hope was mere distraction

To dwell in a world without silence Shattered like a fragile glass Vulnerable and unprotected The light that once seen Swallowed and turned into darkness A moment of silence To child who once had a talent If only had given a chance, A moment of silence.

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Vista ZAYBER AR AYA

A man full of tattoo is dangerous, A girl wearing revealing outfit is not worthy of respect, A boy not going to school is stupid, A baby born with a disability is not a treasure. Statements of a superficial person. A person who would speak at first glance. Curses of short-minded individuals. Judgemental entities who knows nothing about the true story. What if that man full of tattoo is the saviour of humanity? What if that girl youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve seen is joining a contest to feed the mouth of many? What if that boy is a genius who prefers self studying rather than going to school? What if someday that baby... is yours? Will you still speak without thinking and knowing? Will you still limit your understanding to what you see? Or, will you try to use that small mind of yours to utter the drops of values you possess. Understand before you react, process before you deliver. A change of vista.

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illustration by WA L T E R M I S P E Ă&#x2018;A S

What if I’m yours and you are mine? JOHN DALE K AW

The beauty of your heart is my sun, The one that I seek each day. Its gravity pulls me closer; I can’t run, And as it rests, forever it will stay. Every time you twinkle, You put the stars at night to shame. And when you giggle, Mellifluous sounds call your name. You are a cluster of wonders, Bonded by sunlight and moonlight. All the stars in the universe, Left their light to you, each one of them shining bright. Watching the saffron skies turn night blue, But those stars are not the same without you. Love is the space between you and me, The light between oceans shines upon me. The feeling that I crave for you is ineffable. Wishing the stars that you and I would share one table. Spending the night, sitting still, Loving you till I get ill. Till our hair turns white and grey, Though I’m always away. Never lose hope and bear this in mind, What if I’m yours and you are mine? FU TU RE

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Wings of dreams ALLEN TODER SILL AS

What if we could fly? Gliding across the heavenly bodies Where the stars and moon kissing Dreaming above the pillow of clouds Where the lightning bolts strikes so loud What if we could touch the sky? Speak the language of the trees? Hear the branches whisper words As they flutter in the breeze. What if we could fight a storm? Battle back its angry cry, Dodge the mighty lightning bolts Strike them from the sky? What if we could be the forest? Harmonize the mokingjay song? Keep in all the good and right? Banish everything evil and wrong? What if we could fly away? Embracing the starry sky? Swimming in waters of other seas? Oh, what if we could fly?

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Judas FR ANZ GABR I E L BAY LON

If predestine is true, Would you still choose to live, If hanging in a tree of blue, Is what the divine required you to give The past condemned you The present has forsaken you The heaven has abandoned you The hell welcomed you Is it a mortal crime to be the way for crucifixion? A prophecy that endowed humanityâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s salvation Or is it a divine crime to take away life for reparation? A history unfathomed; baffled a myriad nation Holy is he who descended from above Way maker, deliverer Kindest eyes; walked with heavenly love Jesus, the man whose grace saves the sinners Cursed is he who was brought out of womb Soul-winner yet betrayer Took his own life; laid on deserted tomb Judas, the man whose sin saves the sinners.

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Desert of Dreams PAUL IVAN QUE ZON

Every time I fall asleep, I end up waking in a sea of endless

dunes. And it will always be a night full of stars— the only light in this void. The first time this happened, fear crept into me. Now it was only awe.

I would sit in the sand for hours staring at the night sky. I never

thought it was this beautiful. If only I’ve known such splendor exists, I wouldn’t even be sleeping under a roof.

But I’m still confused. Why am I stuck in the same loop over and

over again? Alone without anything to do but stare blankly at the sky. And then I noticed something— the position of the stars are changing every night. I know it’s a dream and none of this is supposed to be real, but it bothers me.

So I walked until I’ve reached a hundred miles, but I never seem

to reach anywhere. I’m stuck. And I have to accept that horrible fate.

I think this is my dream. And if I sleep a thousand nights, will I

find anything else other than a land of dust? An oasis maybe? Or will I just walk myself to death in this infinite desert of dreams.

illustration by R U E R T O R C U L A S

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What if we humans never existed? PAUL ANDREW RE PAL

I grew up thinking that everything was fine and at peace— later did I know

everything is in chaos. I often heard from my parents the words “never look back from the past; it’s history. What’s important is the present”. But I can’t help myself from thinking what happened before that led to today’s chaos.

I’m currently living the last days of the Earth. Before, whenever we travel,

trees are alongside the streets; birds are chirping early in the morning. At night, I can walk the streets alone. I can travel without covering my face with a mask. Now, everything changed. Seldom that you’ll see trees alongside the streets— it was cut down since the road needs to be widened. I can no longer hear birds chirping, save for the roosters’ crow from our neighbors. Every time I go out and travel, I have to cover my face from the dust and pollution coming from the vehicles and factories. These are only a few observations from my city.

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FUTURE

Way back when I was in grade school, I always dreamed of traveling to other

countries. I want to explore different cultures and be amazed with its impeccable scenery. Now, I still haven’t reached them, but slowly, they are getting uglier each year. Hearing news like the ice is melting, the forests are burning, millions of animals are dying, some countries are at war, terrorist are rampant and people are becoming more and more greedy.

I always had this thought in my mind, what if… what if we are not that

intelligent to discover plastic? I think we are still enjoying our clear and fresh rivers, I think the seas aren’t polluted, fishes and other animals aren’t dying from our waste. What if nobody built any factories, buildings and roads? I think we are still breathing with fresh air, trees aren’t cut and replaced with buildings. What if we never knew what “mining” is? What if gold, iron, and other minerals weren’t discovered? I think we still have the best view of our mountains and islands. So what if we humans never existed? I think it would be a much better world.

But I always believed in what George Eliot said: “One can begin so many

things with a new person, even begin with a better man”. We should be a better version of ourselves because according to Carl Bard, “though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new beginning”.

This is our home, our future.

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Retrospect (part i of iii) RUER TORCULAS

In a better world, we will be living in a small villa overlooking the sea,

where we could watch the sun rising and setting every day. I will be brewing coffee for breakfast, since coffee is your favorite. We will be reading books then and will be playing classics songs on loop in the radio to pass the time, drink wine by the evening and get drunk at the dinner table as we talk about life, and plan an unimaginable future. As the night breeze gets colder, we will make love in our moonlit room. It will neither be lust nor pleasure that will drive us to seek the unfathomable depths of ourselves but it will be the mutual permission that we will silently agree to discover. You’ll kiss me as I taste that alcohol on your lips. We’ll crave the warmth of a human touch – our touch. We will utter each other’s name as if we were in a novel read by thousands of fanatics. We will not be a human for a second, but our souls will bond in a single love – our bodies will become one. We will then wake up in each other’s embrace, insisting not let go. I will hold you as if you were the only person left in this world, and losing you would mean the extinction of our love – mostly of myself.

If only time permits.

But you were now gone and left me wondering in retrospect.

CY M O

FUTURE

illustration by R U E R T O R C U L A S

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From, Ben (part ii of iii)

March 26, 1944

Dear Love, this would probably my final letter before I go to the war. I should

have told you how much I love you before I left. But please, let this letter speak for it. Consider this as my proclamation of love and my loss.

I’m still picturing all the scenarios I could have been in with you, though

circumstances brought us in an event where we can’t choose, and I had no choice but to heed the call of destiny – that includes being apart from each other. I wish this war will end and I’ll be there by your side sooner, embracing you, I will wish to thousands of stars to grant it. But sadly, all of these are beyond of our control and it is inevitable.

I won’t forget how you first brewed coffee. I nearly puked myself because the taste

is bitter, it’s awful, you never liked coffee anyway, but still, I want you to brew me a coffee when I come home.

I have our photograph back when we walked the entire street of Florence. You

made me feel special that night. If I die in that battlefield, the only thing that I will remember is the taste of your lips and the colors of your eyes that glimmered in the night. You’re so beautiful. I will long for your kisses and the warmth of your hugs.

But please, try not to wait me for me. The possibility of me dying in this war is

beyond how many my fingers could count. I want you to have a better life. Do not shed any tears in front of my casket when I’m gone, I wish that every day, as you wake up, it would not cause you pain anymore because I am praying for all of the good things this world could offer for you. I pray that you will find joy even when I’m no longer by your side anymore, because here in my heart you’ll remain forever.

So please do me a favor, I know this will hurt you but I can’t stand myself seeing

you broken after I’m gone. Love again and forget about me. But don’t forget those times that we were so happy. I will always love you.

CY M O

FUTURE

from, Ben

1944 (part iii of iii) If it’s a sin for wanting the person I love to come back Then I’ll be a sinner for eternity. I won’t care if the heavens will damn me for it. I want no saint no halos no prayers no statues to fill the gap – a ghost spot. God knows how hard I tried. Come back, Even if it is impossible and beyond what I can wish for. 26th of March, 1944

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Unimaginable SAM GE RIANE

What if there never was a God? This world would not exist. I would not have swam rivers Or reach the ocean floor. Unimaginable! What if there are no wars? Would we have lived in peace? I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t think so, unless we see The beauty of living in harmony. Unimaginable! What if the Beatles did not make music

What if there was no Nintendo

And the Queen a Rhapsody?

Or brick games and the like?

There would never be an Elton John,

DOTA, Mobile Legends, LoL,

Ed Sheeran and Michael Buble.

Minecraft, and Candy Crush.

Unimaginable!

We would not have enjoyed them. Unimaginable!

What if there were no telephones, Cellphones would not have been invented.

What if the Tube was not discovered

Dumbphones or smartphones alike

To project on a screen

Would not have come into being

Computer screens, laptops, iPads, tablets.

And landed on our hands.

We would not have benefited from them.

Unimaginable!

Unimaginable! What if Bill Gates did not create Microsoft And Zuckerberg did not create Facebook? We would have remained unknown; Not able to connect to the world. And that is UNIMAGINABLE!

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FUTURE

Equatorial Summer CHRISTIAN O C TOS O

Walking with pictures of her eclipse in mind Filled my gut and soul truly satisfied. She is like the luminescence for the night-thieves at their eyes— Desolate and distant— but always up there in the sky. T’was one afternoon in the equatorial summer, I drowned myself with thoughts of wanting to reach her. Countless what ifs and possibilities of denials have come by. Yet she acknowledged and pulled me in as if I were a changing tide. Sun has already traversed the equinox and solstice. Leaves fallen, withered, and became nutrition. Yet the connection built on equatorial summer Went on and flourished like the Poinsettias in December. The fullness of time still remains a mystery and waiting to be unraveled, Knowing that there is a part of her— untouched and ungarbled. Would she dance with the love I have hoped for her? Or would she make it blue instead of yellow? I know I can’t tie myself to her, Yet I will always wear her like a jewelry in my heart. And that every passing of an equatorial summer Would always be a reminder of how I met her. FU TU RE

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W HAT I S YOU R STORY O F

‘WHAT IF’? H AV E O N E I N MI N D? W R I T E I T HERE.

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