kwentuhan 2008

In what could be the last shocker of 2006, Time called ‘You’ (or us) as its Person of the Year. And while 2006 produced yet another batch of POY-worthy men and women, Time instead chose those ‘little people’ (armed with keyboards and camcorders) and their collective impact on our planet. Checking the official site, it seems there’s a mixed reaction on this. Some praised the magazine for its timely realization, others, criticized it for completely ignoring those who really mattered (Time, by the way, included a lengthy "People who Mattered" article). A lot of them are asking why. Why the nameless majority? Why them? Why us? Why You?

And why not? Why not You?

What this year revealed, Time said, is the significant shift of ‘power’ back to the people, to You. Blogs, videos, and podcasts made the world a little more smaller, a little more connected, which in turn gave those ‘little people’ more chance not just to express themselves but to change the way world thinks and perceives. Gone are the days when we have to wait for tomorrow’s newspapers to get the latest news, when we have sift through countless commercials just to be entertained. 2006 is the year of the ‘now’ generation. But more importantly, this is the year of the ‘You’ generation. And did we see the results: Bloggers became whistleblowers, amateur camcorders became watchdogs, and podcasters became the next commentators.

You, for the first time, became embedded in the ‘Me’ society, where only significant people made the headlines, where the ‘big ones’ are the only ones who matter. This time, we get to share the limelight. It is a big responsibility, though, and some apparently are incapable of handling it (just head over Youtube and watch some random videos, including mine). But some are brave enough to try. Brave enough to share what’s on their mind without doubting their right to do so. Free speech suddenly meant something to the Lilliputians. It became a call, and thankfully they responded in droves.

Which is why You (or we) deserve to be Time’s Person of the Year–because we now hold the power to change the world–and we are happily wielding it. With the canvass waiting just a few mouse clicks away, the world is inviting You (or us) to put a dent, however small, on a world shaped by the Gullivers of our time.

Let’s make the most of it.

In what could be the last shocker of 2006, Time called ‘You’ (or us) as its Person of the Year. And while 2006 produced yet another batch of POY-worthy men and women, Time instead chose those ‘little people’ (armed with keyboards and camcorders) and their collective impact on our planet. Checking the official site, it seems there’s a mixed reaction on this. Some praised the magazine for its timely realization, others, criticized it for completely ignoring those who really mattered (Time, by the way, included a lengthy "People who Mattered" article). A lot of them are asking why. Why the nameless majority? Why them? Why us? Why You?

And why not? Why not You?

What this year revealed, Time said, is the significant shift of ‘power’ back to the people, to You. Blogs, videos, and podcasts made the world a little more smaller, a little more connected, which in turn gave those ‘little people’ more chance not just to express themselves but to change the way world thinks and perceives. Gone are the days when we have to wait for tomorrow’s newspapers to get the latest news, when we have sift through countless commercials just to be entertained. 2006 is the year of the ‘now’ generation. But more importantly, this is the year of the ‘You’ generation. And did we see the results: Bloggers became whistleblowers, amateur camcorders became watchdogs, and podcasters became the next commentators.

You, for the first time, became embedded in the ‘Me’ society, where only significant people made the headlines, where the ‘big ones’ are the only ones who matter. This time, we get to share the limelight. It is a big responsibility, though, and some apparently are incapable of handling it (just head over Youtube and watch some random videos, including mine). But some are brave enough to try. Brave enough to share what’s on their mind without doubting their right to do so. Free speech suddenly meant something to the Lilliputians. It became a call, and thankfully they responded in droves.

Which is why You (or we) deserve to be Time’s Person of the Year–because we now hold the power to change the world–and we are happily wielding it. With the canvass waiting just a few mouse clicks away, the world is inviting You (or us) to put a dent, however small, on a world shaped by the Gullivers of our time.

Let’s make the most of it.

Hindi yata ako nasanay sa mga wishlist, kasi ang mahalaga lang naman ay yung #1. Kasi ‘pag hindi ko nakuha yun, hindi rin ako masaya. Pero sige, pagbigyan. Ito ang wishlist ni JG:

10. World Peace (for a day) - Lahat masaya, lahat naglalaro at naghahabulan. Perfect shampoo and toothpaste commercial ‘to kapag nagkatotoo. Lahat nakanganga. Tapos sabayan pa natin ng isang 30-second jingle.

9. Jollibee hamburger and Mcdonald’s french fries in one affordable meal - Sige, dagdagan pa natin ng corn muffins from Kenny Rogers. At yung hard-as-rock brownies from KFC. Tsaka yung ice cream shake na galing naman sa Waffles and Cones sa Sta. Cruz, Laguna. Mmm.

8. Cellphone na talagang MP3 player din - hindi tulad ng phone ko ngayon na technically ay MP3 player, basta lang hindi lalagpas sa 1.8mb ang file. Ano’ng ilalagay ko dun, puro chorus?

7. MRT na aabot hanggang Alabang - para isang upuan na lang.

6. Dumbledore’s Pensieve - para may HD-quality memory bank talaga ako. Memories from my perspective, hindi glossy at hindi edited. Hindi nasisira ‘pag nababasa at hindi kailangang i-render.

5. Talagang nakakatawang sitcom sa isang Pinoy network - must we endure those Dadedido-duds and John and Marshlands and those decade-old laugh tracks? Make me laugh, Pinoy-style. Please.

4. A bubblegum that chews itself - wala lang. Para hindi nakakapagod.

3. DVD land - or Quiapo. And some money to spend. Tsaka isama rin si Kei kasi magaling siyang tumawad. 

2. More games for my DS - Lahat ng top-rated games according to my trusted game authority. Tsaka other DS accessories like the titanium case, the web browser, the TV tuner (yes, there is a TV tuner for Junior), and the MP3 player (just in case wala pa rin yung #8).

1. A year-long vacation - sa beach. Ako lang. Walang bagyo, tsunami, at malaria. At kasama ang mga pelikula niya.

I don’t know why, but parties (all of them) feel so… awkward. I’m still figuring out what’s fun when you have those hi-hello-how’s-life-blahblahblah-okay-bye or getting-to-know-you chats when they don’t really mean anything. Unless you’re this guy, who seems to be pretty good at small talk.

Life’s a party. Yay.

Mira
just couldn’t sleep. Even when the air was chilly enough to drive anyone into a
deep slumber over the night, all she did was roll over many times, sit up, and
stare at the only moon visible during the dry months. A long band of stars lay
perfectly still, watching over them like ancient souls from a long-forgotten
past. Someone was snoring somewhere; must be her father, she thought. Without
much to do, she watched the fire slowly die, leaving its glowing remains to
wait for dawn.

“Another
night like this and I’ll walk straight back to Roo,” Mira said to herself. The
thought of her father actually believing in those ‘whisper stories’ some guy
told him and forcing them to leave the town was embarrassingly unbearable. She
remembered the stares of their neighbors as they waited for the town gates to
open.

Mira
looked at her younger brother sleeping beside her. Unlike Mira, her brother
Noriel was ecstatic when he found out that they were leaving Roo—as if this
foolish journey was a once-in-a-lifetime adventure worth living. He even
boasted this to his friends who were left behind. Quite understandable, though,
since Noriel has never stepped outside the stone walls of their town. Mira saw
him curl up and shiver a little, so she took her blanket and wrapped it carefully
around her brother.

Not
wanting to sit around until morning, Mira stood up and decided to fetch water
at the nearby river where they all settled. She took all of the canisters left
empty by last night’s dinner and tiptoed away from her family’s campsite.

“What’re
you doing?” she heard her brother call, still half-asleep.

Mira
held up the empty canisters, “Going to fetch some water.”

Noriel
just stared at her for a while, and then went back to sleep, covering his face
with the blankets.

Mira
continued her walk to the river in silence, the flasks clinking in every step.
She passed by a family of twelve who live two blocks away, all fast asleep and
wrapped in thick, furry blankets. Their caravan was the only one being pulled
by a horse-bison, a rare beast from the southern lands—only five of them are
seen plowing the farms at the outskirts of Gargan Roo, and another one pulling
the grand carriage of the Minister.

Over
the low hills to the east, she saw the familiar pale lights of her town still
surrounded by the morning mist. She realized that all the distance they have
traveled since last afternoon wasn’t that much—and wasn’t worth it at all.
Walking past another batch of sleeping neighbors, she remembered how it was
when their neighbor Jien banged on their door one night and told them of some
whispers warning them of death before the rise of the second moon. She
remembered them all too well: when they got the news the following morning that
Dagoria, the city she has never seen, was ‘attacked’ by some phantom disease,
the moment her father pushed her and Noriel upstairs to pack their belongings,
and her mother praying to gods for guidance—all leading up to this barren place
half a day away from Roo, cold and somewhat vulnerable.

Somewhere,
a finely tuned guitar was being played, and a familiar lullaby was sung by someone
who, like Mira, couldn’t sleep. Just beyond the two tents hastily set up by a
group of farmers, was a man, slowly playing his guitar as if he had all the
time in world. He seemed to be traveling alone, with a lone horse beside him
chewing on some random grass and a simple, tattered tent, half-open and waiting
for his return. Pausing every now and then to drink from his mug of what smells
like ground tea leaves mixed with milk, he sang another lullaby as Mira passed
by. Not wanting to disturb the man and his songs, she just waved as she walked
past him; the old man tipped his patched-up hat in return. The lullaby died
slowly as she walked further and further away from the campsite, and by the
time she reached the river, she was again alone.

The
river was silent as it is swift in its never-ending course, slowly carving a
trench that stretched as far as the eye can see. Amazed by what she saw, Mira
just stared at the mighty giant, somehow forgetting the reason why she was
there in the first place. The moon and the silhouette of the nearby trees made
a stunning mark on the water so much that it was difficult not to be
mesmerized. Mira took her time to fill each flask, still staring at the river
she only learned from books and tales. Everything was still under the
moonlight, a calm that was beyond understanding.

She
was filling up the last flask when something stirred from behind her. Mira
looked around, suddenly aware of this, but she saw no one, nothing. A strong breeze
followed, bending small trees and sending countless birds to the air. She
stared at the bushes, her heart racing in fear, ready to run at the first sign
of danger. But it was all gone. Suddenly, everything was, again, still—as if
nothing happened. Mira, her hands still trembling, took the flasks and ran back
to the campsite.

She
slowed down when she was just a few steps away from the first tent, realizing
that she’ll wake up everyone if she didn’t. Thankfully, no one seemed disturbed
by the racket she made while running back. Still breathless, she tiptoed her
way across the tents, holding her heavy flasks tight.

She
saw the old man, still with his guitar, but his head was tipped over. He must have fallen asleep while singing
those lullabies, Mira thought. Even his horse seemed to have fallen asleep,
not even finishing the last piece of grass stuck between its teeth. She tiptoed
on, longing for her thick bed. Mira never realized that the campsite was this cold
even when the mist never came. She could see her breath turn into white wisps
before disappearing in the dark.

At
last Mira saw her brother, still clutching his blankets, just two tents away.
Her parents too were behind a thick blanket, almost covering them entirely. His
uncle stopped snoring, probably because it was almost sunrise.

Mira
left the flasks near the carriage and went back to her empty bed, trying hard
to sleep—but it was too cold. She sat right up and started pulling her blanket
from her brother’s grip.

“Hey,
Noriel, I need my blanket,” Mira whispered as she pulled.

Noriel
ignored her.

Annoyed,
Mira pulled harder, but her brother’s grip was too strong for her.

“Noriel!”
She pushed him, but she was again ignored.

Not
wanting to give up, she pulled even harder, so hard that her brother’s grip
finally surrendered. The blanket flew a few feet behind Mira, brushing some of
the ashes and dirt around it.

But
the blanket was forgotten.

Mira
sat still, frozen, staring at the cold body of her brother. His mouth was open
as if in an unending scream. His eyes were bleeding; a steady trickle of blood coursed
its way down his face, forming a small crimson pool underneath. His hands, once
trembling, were now motionless, as cold as the air around them. Mira crawled
away from Noriel and ran to her father, gasping for air. But her father never
woke up—and neither did her mother and uncle.

The
morning bled once more.

Previous Chapters:
I. Return
II. Morning
III. Whispers
IV. Awakened

At last, got myself a copy of that ad-friendly tabloid, Inquirer Libre (yeah, I’m a loser). And instead of reading those Inquirer broadsheet rejects, I went straight to the column that matters most (in a tabloid anyway): Horoscope. Not a big fan (unlike some people I know, hehe), but it’s still a great source of one-minute entertainment. Besides, my life is too monotonous nowadays, so no need for randomly selected fortunes.

Pag-ibig: 5/5 hearts
"Mahal ka niya kahit ‘di niya madalas sabihin."
- A ganun ba. Sige, magbabasa na lang ulit ako ng Precious Hearts pocketbooks para lalo akong indamudporlab. Yikes.

Money: 3/5 money bags
"Mas masarap ang bibingka sa kabila."
- Haha, are you really talking about money? Anong bibingka? ANONG BIBINGKA?!

Career: 2/5 stars
"Hanggang ngayon takot ka pa rin sa tubig."
- Buti na lang sinabi mo. Kaya pala ako nangangati.

Getting sick is one of life’s simple pleasures. Reminds us that we’re still human. Me, after more than a year of not getting sick (last time was summer 2005, and I was trying to finish a poem for Perspective), I finally got the chance to experience it again. My head feels heavier, as if my 32 year-old brain (according to Brain Age) is trying to squeeze itself out of my ears. But somehow, it feels good. So good, in fact, that I wanna be sick for the rest of my life.

Madness!