A Geisha In A Past Life

Photos courtesy of Lala.:) Thanks. This is the last hurrah of the UP Centennial Celebration. Seeing some of my batchmates made my day.:) I definitely miss College. I definitely miss U.P. Anyway, Centennial or not.... UP Ang Galing Mo!

PROLOGUE A drop of blood in each of the children’s marks. Forever this will bear a curse on her. She knew it. She closed her eyes as if having second thoughts on what she is about to do. She took a deep breath. A very deep one. Then a sudden surge of fear enveloped her trembling body as she glanced around the sacred room of her masters. It was a dark, circular room made of gold. She shivered. She knows she should not be here. And she knows… she should not have brought with her the sacred ones. The sacred ones. But they are all so innocent! She looked at the six little faces in front of her. She could not bear to see them accept the second mark of the beast because she knows what that will mean. No escape. Eternal subjection of their souls to the dark side. She does not want that. She had known the mothers of these children. She had taken care of them when they were still carrying the sacred ones with them. Oh how beautiful the mothers of these children were! Innocent Marquees.

Been quite down for a long time. Thought this feeling will leave after a few hours of faked happiness that I kept as a facade when I am with the people I know. Sometimes I wish everyone is a stranger to me. So that they will not have a care in the world whatever I do with the life I know is in fact mine. And I hate chaotic signals! argghh. It makes me chaotic!!!! Ironic.

Have you ever experienced trusting someone then finding out your own blood you suddenly saw on your body came from the stabs he has driven right at your back during the time you do not know when? I did. Traitor. Murderer. Killer. Been a victim for several times now. Think it had made me immortal. Immortal yet not invincible. Doomed. Died. Pained. Dumbstruck martyr in her own pool of blood. Rest in peace.

LITERALLY MISSING U.P. MANILA… I thought this is what I’ve been waiting for… to finally graduate and to finally work. But why am I suddenly feeling very nostalgic and feeling very homesick? Home= U.P. Manila. I missed U.P. literally. I missed my department. Department of Arts and Sciences--- Ate Pau, Ate Novs, Sir Chong--- my favorite professor--- Sir Hensy, my beloved thesis adviser…. and I know Sir Barry will come back--- my most reliable technical writing professor. I know I am lucky enough because we have a very beautiful office in Makati. But every time I think of DAC--- with its not-so-aircon aircon ;); with its very low ceiling and creaking second floor; with its virus-lover computers and laptops; with its very small cubicles for very martyr professors… I can’t help but feel homesick… that department had been both my solitary and my chaotic realm. I missed GAB cafeteria. Yup. It is not called a canteen, but rather cafeteria. I missed Nutrilicious red tea--- my most favorite tea

HOOP I. “Another save made by the Explosion!” one of the hosts exclaimed as the star player of the Parrots gave a three-point shot that put the game into their team’s name. End of fourth quarter. The sound of the buzzer sealed it. “Parrots win! They will go into the finals!” His teammates ran and hugged their saver. “Way to go, Cheat!” “Explosion on the run again!” “You broke their ambition!” Cheat gave his teammates a little smile then averted his gaze. He searched through the crowd at the bleachers as their university hymn filled the background. He saw him. He half-raised an arm as recognition. The person smiled at Cheat. Cheat nodded at him. His younger brother. Then he focused his gaze back on the court. He saw her. She saw him. Their gazes locked. She averted his gaze. He smiled sarcastically. That journalist never does retreat. Sleigh, the team captain and considered the best forward in the league, put an arm around Cheat. “Did she distract your game?” “What do you think?” Sleigh

HOW COULD AN ANGEL BREAK MY HEART BY TONI BRAXTON plus the cathartic interpretation I heard he sang a lullaby I heard he sang it from his heart When I found out thought I would die Because that lullaby was mine Or so I thought. Maybe that lullaby was not really meant for me. May be heaven is particularly just letting me hear it just for the sake of letting me feel that I am not forsaken. At least. That I am not yet forgotten. At least. But then... telling me at the end that it still isn't for me. And it hurts.... Because I felt like dying. Though a thanatopsis is doubtless better than having your heart broken. Believe me. I heard he sealed it with a kiss He gently kissed her cherry lips I found that so hard to believe Because his kiss belonged to me Or so I thought again. His kiss can never belong to me. Because his lips never met mine. How could an angel break my heart Why didnt he catch my falling star I thought my guardian angel is supposed to take care of me... not break me. Bu

A leaf would always try to hang on to a tree... but there will always be a breeze... may it be gentle or not... that breeze will surely make that leaf fall... the leaf will be carried away by that gush of wind.. to what place, it would not know... but it's better... at least that leaf has a destination... it may not be sure where, but it will have a destination. So sad for that leaf if it will be a windless night... It will just fall... And it won't be carried away by any wind to another destination... It would not be able to re-attach itself to the branch of the tree... Poor leaf... If I were that leaf, I'll die... I'll surely die. Especially because I spent almost all my entire life hanging on for my life... in that tree... getting strength... from that tree... hoping I will be attached to that tree forever... Then I will just fall? And the tree did not even try to save me from falling? Damn that tree... Damn it... Damn me... FOr loving that tree... Damn me... An ange

Four years of being cradled into the arms of UP made me a very ethnocentric person who will fight for even a small blemish thrust in the name of the university I already fell in love with. It was during that first step into the corridors of Rizal Hall when I felt the first sign of misfit. It seemed that whatever I try, I will not be able to fit myself into a very complicated puzzle. Prior to that first step, I have heard so many things about UP that made me dread to even enter its gates: Frat wars, mobilizations, academic pressures, the exercise of freedom, demon professors, and many other reasons. What just pushed me to enter U.P. is the prestige of being called Iskolar ng Bayan. The futility of that reason now makes me want to die of shame--- because I do not understand what those words truly mean that time. Well… I was just a freshie then. No one can blame me because I have not been exposed to the realities of life that a U.P. student is made to face. And you know what is t

I just graduated three months ago, yet I could not help but be homesick… and just like what I wrote in my multiply blog, HOME= UP Manila. Lately, I have been visited frequently of memories. Memories that make me cry, laugh, and get red in the face. Just like the different Oblation myths that slapped my face as a freshie. I remember the first myth I heard that made me dread to even go near the Oblation—when you take your picture with the oblation… YOU WILL DIE. I really believed it as a freshman. Knowing upper classmen, they want to make fun of the first years. Remember the TBA? Telling first years that TBA was supposed to be a place when in reality is it stands for To Be Announced? (Sorry for being a spoiler.. can’t fool first years who will read this;)). It was a good thing a few, kinder upper classmen corrected the myth and told us freshmen that you will not really die if you have your picture taken with the oblation (and yes we sighed, but then---)… you will only not gradua