kumabog ang aking dibdib nang maalala ko si pete lacaba. hindi naman siya kaibigan, hindi siya ninong o padrino ng kung sinong kamag-anak. marahil, matagal na siyang naninirahan sa kaibuturan ko, tulad ng pananahan ng ibang manunulat at pintor. minsa’y may manunulat na kumukumahog na lumabas. sapat na ang maisulat ko ang ukol sa buhay nila (pamilyado man sila o lihim na nalululong sa bisyo) o ang kanilang mga likha. at nang magawa ito, sapat na para manatili silang payapa sa loob ko.

eto ang dalawang salin ni pete lacaba. isa ay ang salin niya ng I can no more hear Love’s ni Jose Garcia Villa at ang ikalawa ay ang Desiderata ni Max Ehrmann.

HINDI KO NA MARINIG
Halaw kay Jose Garcia Villa

Hindi ko na marinig
ang tinig ng pag-ibig
Hindi na bumubukas
ang kanyang labi. Salat
sa awitin ang ibon.
Namumutla ang apoy.
Rosas na bagong-pitas
ay naluluoy agad.
Hindi na umiihip
ang hangin. Natahimik
na ang mga kampana.
Ako’y nangungulila.
Puso ko’y lupaypay na.
Diyos ko, ako’y patay na.

***********************

MINIMITHI (DESIDERATA)
Salin: Pete Lacaba

Lumakad nang mahinahon
Sa gitna ng ingay at pagkukumahog, at alalahanin
Ang kapayapaang maaaring makuha sa katahimikan.

Walang isinusuko hanggat maaari,
Pakitunguhan nang mabuti ang lahat ng tao.

Sabihin ang iyong katotohanan nang tahimik at malinaw;
At makinig sa iba, kahit sa nakayayamot at mangmang;
Sila man ay may kasaysayan.

Iwasan ang mga taong mabunganga at palaaway,
Sila’y ikinaiinis ng kalooban.

Kung ihahambing mo ang sarili sa iba,
Baka yumabang ka o maghinanakit; sapagkat laging
May lilitaw na mas mahusay o mas mahina sa iyo.

Ikalugod ang iyong mga tagumpay at saka mga balak.

Manatiling interesado sa iyong hanapbuhay,
Gaano man kaaba; ito’y tunay na ari-arian
Sa pabago-bagong kapalaran ng panahon.

Maging maingat sa iyong negosyo;
Sapagkat ang daigdig ay puno ng panlilinlang.
Subalit huwag maging bulag sa kabutihang makikita.
Maraming nagsisikap na makamit ang mga adhikain; at sa
lahat ng dako,
Ang buhay ay puno ng kabayanihan.

Maging tapat sa sarili. Higit sa lahat, huwag
magkunwari.
Huwag ding libakin ang pag-ibig:
Sapagkat sa harap ng lahat ng kahungkagan at
kawalang-pag- asa,
Ito’y lagi’t laging sumisibol, tulad ng damo.

Tanggapin nang mabuti ang mga payo ng katandaan,
Buong-giliw na isuko ang mga bagay-bagay ng kabataan.

Pag-ibayuhin ang lakas ng loob,
Ito’y pananggalang laban sa biglaang kasawian.
Subalit huwag ikaligalig ang mga haka-haka.

Maraming pangamba ang likha ng pagod at pangungulila.

Bagamat kailangan ang sapat na disiplina,
Maging magiliw sa sarili.

Ikaw ay supling ng sanlibutan.
Katulad ng bituin,
May liwanag kang taglay.
At anupaman ang iyong gawin,
Itong sanlibutan ay narito
Sa paligid mo.

Kung gayon, pakisamahan ang Panginoon,
Anuman ang pananaw mo sa kanya.
At anuman ang iyong pinagkakaabalahan at minimithi,
Sa maingay na kalituhan ng buhay,
Pakisamahan ang iyong kaluluwa.

Sa kabila ng lahat ng pagkukunwari, kabagutan, at
gumuhong pangarap,
Maganda pa rin ang daigdig.

Mag-ingat. Sikaping lumigaya.

Deadline for a press release in like ten seconds, and i…haven’t started one teeny bit on the assignment. ooh, i have the document ready. it’s saved on my desktop with a neat file name…and that’s about it.

i’m super excited for september 21 because it’s the 61st Primetime Emmy Awards, and Neil Patrick Harris is the host. LEGENDARY!!! I hope Jim Parsons wins. I have a crush on him since I saw the very episode. Here’s to more wit and crushed egos on TV.

Gah, and now the master of responsibility summons with his crooked finger.

It was in high school that we were told that the end of the world would come in 2012.

I was part of the homogenous class, the crème de la crème, the star class, the honors section. Call it what you may, but it was simply a section in my high school history that had different (read: more strict) teachers, challenging syllabus, pressure that makes your forehead sweat blood, and extra questions in final exams that irked me and my habit to nap after a test.

It was probably Ms. Pagtalunan who taught us that. She told us that Mayans had accurate ways to predict things. And one of their predictions was that the world will end in 2012.

That learning plus around 30-odd ones (including centrifugal force and the proper way to walk when you’re in heels) stuck to me up to the present.

That also gave me bouts of panic—while buying my favorite mango shake at the canteen, while picking up my black Jansport bag from the stone benches, while eyeing my crush from the second floor classroom window, while answering an inhumane set of “For Homogenous Class Only” questions during Physics finals. Belen, my high school barkada, also couldn’t shake that thought. Even in conversations when we were in college, we would revert back to those four ominous digits in a hushed tone and wonder if it’s really true.

Now there’s a movie depicting the end of the world aptly titled 2012. When I first saw the trailer, I thought “Why, hello panic attacks. I’ve missed you.” And then I learned that there is also some sort of talk going around in the digital sphere about it. This is not good. My deal with Belen was to sweep this knowledge under the rug, and forget about it, that we would never share this information to others. I never expected it to be part of mainstream life.

Remember that other end of things prediction last year? I remember calling my sister on my mobile one evening and instructing her to stock up on water, biscuits, and batteries. Lots and lots of batteries.

Screw those predictions; screw those stubborn digits.

A fatalist, I scream inwardly, afraid of the end of the world to come in my lifetime and my children’s lifetime. Because I still haven’t danced jazz onstage ever since Grade 7. Because I still haven’t found my career path. Because I haven’t learned the more complicated turns and jumps in ballet. Because I still haven’t told my dad I love him, and I still haven’t talked to him about my daddy issues. Because I still haven’t told my mom I love her, and I still haven’t talked to her about my mommy issues. Because I still don’t have an orphanage under my care. Because I still haven’t saved children. Because I still haven’t done bungee jumping and learned to surf. Because I still can’t psych myself to watch horror and thriller flicks. Because I still haven’t learned to play cello. Because I want to go to Japan, and imitate scenes from Lost in Translation. Because I want to dive and swim in the seas of our country. Because I still haven’t found my own paradiso perduto. Because I still don’t have a garden of fire trees. Because I want to organize a fund raiser for a friend with a life-threatening back problem. Because I’ve yet to embark on my pilgrimage. Because I’ve yet to have funding for my dream livelihood program for a community. Because I’ve yet to build my dream library. Because I’ve yet to win a literary award. Because I’ve yet to finish Eco’s The Island of the Day Before and Joyce’s Ulysses. Because I’ve yet to attend a Coachella concert. Because I’ve yet to imbibe the elegance of Gwyneth Paltrow, the cockiness of Victoria Beckham, and the mystery of Cynthia Alexander. And some more reasons that are just huge for words.

I hate endings. And this particular ending makes me want to wet my pants, and fear for the very marrow of my life.

i have yet to have another trip to an orthopedic doctor.

i am a bit miffed. and bothered.

the pain in my forearms and neck is foreboding.

crap.

from late 2008 to early 2009, i did my rounds: i consulted four different doctors from four different hospitals to consult with them. all to be familiar with scoliosis, slipped disc, and nerve problems. i even had to endure that nerve test that involved needles, electricity, and computers and lots and lots of pain. and oh therapies and traction–definitely my cup of tea… (said in a snarl)

now, i would like to proclaim–my bones hate me, and i don’t have any clues why.

suffice it to say that for years, i go to sleep having only two or three options for rest positions. now, i go to sleep with the same ordeal, AND wake up with slightly numb hands. more for the right hand, but my left is also weakening.

i’ve gone to our apartment in Makati today to collect a pile of x-ray resuts and a sheaf of medical documents. all to arm myself with for the next trip(s?) to the hospital. can’t wait to see my machine friends. ooh, which hospital do i pick next? can’t wait; i just can’t wait.

he was made king of all wild things

the first time the book where the wild things are was read to me, i felt nauseous, nostalgic, yet free.

since then, i fell in love with the book–love out of sheer commitment, not out of infatuation.

it is a book that consists of ten sentences yet whose weight and simplicity are beyond epic.

i had goosebumps riding my arms and neck when i first saw the trailer of the film adaptation directed by demi-god spike jonze (of adaptation and being john malkovich—two astounding films that have niches in my hall of fame, too).

and i keep on having goosebumps when thoughts of the book and its characters and its scenes come to my mind every so often. these images rush towards me–when i am riding a tricycle, when i am choosing and hoarding books in a thrift store, when i am finishing up a bowl of Milo chocolate cereal (the closest i can get to having pseudo chocolate frosted sugar bombs courtesy of the universe of calvin and hobbes).

i have been committed to this book for years, and my staunch affinity amazes me.

i am afraid and excited to watch the book’s adaptation. not because it would destroy my images of and regard towards the book. i am afraid to catch myself drowning in the sensation of being overwhelmed, that’s why.

Three concert performances of Oliver Knussen’s adaptation of Where the Wild Things Are were staged with great success at Glyndebourne a dozen years ago.

because it’s only with wild things that i feel complete kinship with.

and it’s always nice to come home to a bowl of hot soup just waiting for you.

i love the book.

i love the movie.

i love having them.

i’ve been in jobless heaven for a month and a half. i’m doing part-time research and writing, but over-all, i can declare that i’m bumming it. and i am such a novice. first of all, if you’d expect that i’ve got it on with my poetry and fiction and that i’m done with dvd and art film marathons because of my free time, you guessed wrong. i have only read a smattering of new poetry and wrote only one measly poem. i was able to snag a couple of hours for “how i met your mother”; an hour and then some for “imagine me and you”. the rest goes to snatches of wowowee when i’m having lunch at the dining table (that show is one afternoon burlesque show masquerading as a variety show masquerading as a kapwa ko mahal ko version. get it?).

there was one time i was in a cover shoot with kai huang as the photographer in trinoma. back then, trinoma was fairly new, but the traffic of people on a weekend afternoon was phenomenal. i caught kai sighing. he said, “kakainggit sila. may pera kaya nakakapag-mall on a weekday.” now, i’m realizing maybe those weren’t simply parasitic relatives of OFWs/herederas/drug lords/sex traffickers. maybe some of them were jobless, were just killing time, and were taking advantage of a huge space with free airconditioning.

but then, with me being a novice bum, i haven’t gone to mall trips as expected. i’ve gone thrice to shop, cried internally when i saw steve madden shops in two malls, cried exhaustively when i went inside bookstores, cried for joy when somebody bought me another gary larson book. blame it on the A(H1N1) pandemic. if you haven’t seen a paranoid pinay going ballistic over news about swine flu, then you haven’t had an encounter with me. with every new release on the news updating the number of carriers here in our beloved country, i am consistent in cursing duque (oh that fuckingly stupid health secretary) and his larger-than-life incompetence. the only thing left for him to do is hold a presscon and admit to us the following: Filipinos, you are left to face this pandemic all on your own. The government is busy painting a pretty face for GMA and her cohorts, and it is my duty to help them. Oh, you can get face masks at any suking tindahan… NOT!

now, i’m still lazing in bed at 9:37AM while thoughts swirl around a pair of madden open-toed pumps in stellar four-inch heels. it is an impracticality, but certainly a necessity in my life. take me to bpo heaven, and give me salary fast.

but then, i’d miss my snatches of wowowee. who wants to miss pokwang and her antics and willie revillame’s fake tears and perv moves? definitely not me.

P.S.

to cam and the others, let’s watch movies at the egai sai festival!

P.P.S.

an advertorial i wrote came out on phil. star and manila bulletin yesterday. yey!! gotta get used to ghost writing. still felt iffy seeing the advertorial without a byline. i’m sure sir adel would be proud of me.

i have a fascination towards fiery red umbrellas, the kind found in the film a very long engagement. i love the brashness the red represents, the explosion of its shade when it hits my vision, the lingering heat the red hue leaves.

i get drawn to it as how i get drawn to dangerous materials, ways, people.

if i can paint or draw, i would draw red umbrellas over and over. when i searched the internet, i found others who are also fascinated by it. ain’t it amazing?

***********************

i’m turning 27 on the 26th of april, and as usual, there is a melancholic air. special occasions remind me that a year has passed without my stepmother in my life. and so, i never want to truly celebrate my birthday. in a way, it is like all soul’s day.

i’m in a sad funk, too. it’s an annual thing, usually hitting me every third quarter, the period when my stepmother died. but i never expected it would fall during my birthday month. and what do you know: the funk is staring me right in the face.

but there are rays of sunshine:

last night, i met my high school friends–belen, maia, suki, tring. it was a rare time to meet belen as she’s now set to have her med clerkship this May. and we girls got to talking. and talking. and it was so easy. and it was plain, giddy fun.

since belen’s a doctor, we had bouts of exchange about women giving birth (ugh!) and our quick consultations about our illnesses (mine are my nightmare sickness and insomnia; tring’s her nightmare sickness; maia her fickle system). and her decision towards my insomnia: she won’t prescribe meds to me as i might get dependent on them. it just keeps getting better, this sleeping problem. hee.

i danced today from 8am to 11am. and i am still giddy about it.

someone gave me a derwent journal. can’t wait to use it.

so there–my rays of sunshine in a storm of red raging in my thoughts.

happens this april.

it is a few weeks away.

26th of april, i turn 27.

27th of april is the last day at work of two of my dearest colleague-friends.

it isn’t what they wanted.

it isn’t what us editorial crazies wanted.

my birthday doesn’t look peachy.

i’ve always been a sugarfree fan girl. here’s one reason why:

Burnout
Sugarfree

O wag kang tumingin
Ng ganyan sa ‘kin
Wag mo akong kulitin
Wag mo akong tanungin

Dahil katulad mo
Ako rin ay nagbago
Di na tayo katulad ng dati
Kay bilis ng sandali

O kay tagal kitang minahal

Kung iisipin mo
Di naman dati ganito
Teka muna teka lang
Kailan tayo nailang

Kung iisipin mo
Di naman dati ganito
Kay bilis kasi ng buhay
Pati tayo natangay

O kay tagal kitang minahal

Tinatawag kita
Sinusuyo kita
Di mo man marinig
Di mo man madama

O kay tagal kitang mamahalin

para kay r.e.v.

Sa Ganito Kita Maaalaala
Ni Reuel Molina Aguila

Laging kitang mahahantungan
Sa mga dating lugar
Na kilala ng aking puso:

Sa parehong hintayan ng bus at tawiran
Sa mga kapehan, tambayan at tagayan
Ng ating mga halakhak;

Sa mga awit na sabay nating pinakinggan
Sa isawan at pisbolan,at paglalakad
Kapag kulang ang baong winaldas;

Sa iisang upuang kita’y kinandong
Sa iisang payong na pinagsukuban
Ng isinantabing pagkakahiyaan;

Sa bawat ginituang tag-araw
Sa tag-ulang nagtatampisaw
Ang aking diwa sa iyong halik.

Lagi kitang mahahantungan
Sa bawat maningning at masaya
Ganoon kita laging maaalaala.

Matatagpuan kita sa bukang-liwayway
At sa gabing nakatingala ako sa buwan
Ikaw pa rin ang masasayang karanasan.

Mahahantungan kita sa mga saglit
Ng pag-iisa, wala ka ma’y lagi kang kasama.