Stardust

By Fauxx

In ships, they would turn off the lights at night on the bridge, the place where the captain navigates. That’s why the whole place is usually dark. Being a young boy then, I thought, “Why would anybody turn the lights off and grope in the dark while you navigate a huge ship?”

Is that faith?

Not really. But I learned that one of the reasons is for the crew to see other ships ahead with their lights, or the lighthouses, so they know how far away the land is. The darker it becomes, the brighter the lights.

The clearer it is to know where the ship is and where it is going.

There is a nugget of wisdom from that. Especially when you are cruising in the darkest moments of your journey.

Also, If you ever find yourself in a ship at night time, go to that dark place and try to look up. On a cloudless sky, you will see stars. It is vastly different from the stars and the sky we have in the city. The city has gone too bright and it kills the light of the faintest of stars.

At sea, these specks of light, the brightest and the less conspicuous, literally twinkle; and are literally innumerable. At that moment the twinkling star concept comes out of the metaphor of books and hallmark cards and you realize their meaning.

Somehow you would begin to understand why people in the ancient times marvel at the celestial sky. This is one of the reason why I enjoy travelling by sea and maybe the reason still why people then didn’t need a TV.

Do you know that even though light travels at the fastest immeasurable speed humans have speculated, it would still take millions of years for the light of the nearest stars to reach our planet?

Think about it, even if one star changes from supernova to white dwarf, (feel free to correct my literal astronomical lapses) it would take many years for us to see it. The very stars that we may be looking at right now may have been long gone many million years ago… they are just bright phantoms of their glorious shining moments.

And technically, when we gaze up, we are looking back in time.

Time.

Short of being true or otherwise, I dread the upcoming days.

I do not intend to go back in time, but I do want it to freeze… even for a moment. And breathe in each second. Maybe make something out of them, like what people did with the stars. Map out my own constellations from the stars of distant past memories and moments. And maybe take a souvenir from each.

Everything was made beautiful. Fearfully and wonderfully made, one way or another.

—–

Stardust originated from stars like a souvenir from what they might have been before. But in the end, gathering stardust is still gathering dust.

—–

The guy who illegally owned the name Fauxx is the author of the unpublished psychograph. He sprinkles courage to other players when playing Bluff, a card game. While I am the literary editor of our Filipino newspaper back in high school, Fauxx is one of the editors in our English Newspaper 😀

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Dad’s Resolve and My Bike

I’ve paved my way for Dad to buy me a bicycle. At what expense, I could hardly remember. For all I know, Dad wouldn’t give me something because I want it except for a robot, a kite, and a trumpo. But yeah, later in my life, he gave me a phone. Many times I have asked him a couple of things which he denied for no apparent reason. So the notion of my asking for a bicycle, back when I was six or seven years of age, is like requesting for my independence. That is what I thought then. And it is still what I think now.

Independence. Simply because I wanted to travel by myself around the neighborhood.

I have my point to telling you all of this. That one of my life-size glory experiences is learning how to ride a mechanical bicycle. That incident took place some time ago. Funny that I do not have a recollection of what my age was back then. Going back on that time frame, the whole thing, even the littlest unspecified object, is still lucid in my memory. Along with my cousins and my brother on the scenario, I underwent a grandeur life-learning ~and that is riding the two-wheeled human-powered vehicle. My dad taught me the formula of bicycling. I used the word ‘formula’ as that word best portray the process of problem solving but he did not teach me the complete process. What he instructed me is the basic rule of not falling.

Let us start my storytelling at that moment when I am holding the bicycle frame ~a feeling of an incalculable ecstasy of Dad’s trust that I can do things my own way. I am Euphoric. I am ready to hit the street 120 kilometers per hour. I must look absurd. And I like it. But hell ~I was scared. Damn, I am really frightened of things that might happen. Five minutes from that moment, I might be struck by a moving object that often the road. See myself rolling with blood and sweat. The ditch, I foresee myself swimming on the ditch. Fear enveloped me and..

Dad tapped me on the shoulder and somehow I’ve regained my courage.

“You know how to pedal, right? You know how to rear-end and you know how to use the brakes. What you are not familiar with is how to ride a bicycle. Well, Kiddo, I won’t be teaching you how to ride the bicycle.”

And my dad continued.

“I will teach you how to do balancing.” Dad paused, for awhile.

And what about balancing? I can stand unabashed with my foot. I can do the standing position onto the floor effortlessly. I can walk a non-slanting area without hitting the ground. So what about balancing?

“And you are on your own to discover how this thing works.”

My dad, who is holding the bicycle, has to let go of his grip. And that is when I realized ~the freedom of his grip entails my freedom to learn.

I managed to drive at least three meters away. Still, I fall ~big time with some scratches on my knees. Balancing is a little harder, I uttered. I got up, dusted myself, and held the bicycle frame once again.

I gaze at my Dad. But this time, I am no longer scared.

Pabasa Party

Sharing sharing na ito ha!

Kasali ang pamilya namin sa nag-o-organize ng Pabasa sa street namin. Meron kase kaming kapitbahay na may panata na hanggat nabubuhay siya ay magpapabasa siya ng pasyon ni bossing Jesus tuwing holy week.. At totoo naman, tupad na tupad nga naman niya ang kanyang pangako.

Nagbiro pa nga siya last year na baka wala ng Pabasa this year dahil tigok na tigok na siya. Pero guess what, buhay pa rin ang kapitbahay naming ‘yon. Ayaw siguro siya kuhain ni Lord dahil bonggang-bongga ang ginagawa nilang Pabasa.

Dahil ang daddy ko ay technician, napakarami naming stereo/speaker sa bahay. At ‘yun ang ginagamit tuwing may Pabasa dito sa amin. Bawat pamilya dito sa eskinita namin eh sumasali sa pag-o-organize ng Pabasa. Meron kaming isang kapitbahay na nag ke-cater ng party needs kaya sila ang may sagot ng chairs and tables. Ang nakakalungkot nga lang, yung isang matanda na malapit sa amin na tumutulong sa pag-oorganize ng Pabasa eh namayapa na. Siguro kapag nawala silang lahat– at henerasyon na namin (mga anak nila) ang natira, eh, siguro wala ng magpapatuloy ng Pabasa.

Naisip ko na nakakalungkot din pala. Malamang sa malamang eh mami-miss ko rin ang ideya na hindi ako pinapatulog ng mga nagpapasyon.

Balik tayo sa kwento. Dahil nga ang daddy ko ay isang technician, napakarami rin naming microphone para suportahan ang isang concert ni Regine Velasquez. At tama kayo, kung gaano karami ang stereo/speaker namin ay ganoon din karami ang gagamiting microphone para sa pabasa. 

Anyways.

Ang point ko lang is– kaya nakapost itong artic na ‘to ay dahil nagising ako sa dagundong ng kanta ng mga Pabasa. Hmft, sana mag-brown out! ‘Di, joke lang. Wag naman.. Nagko-computer pala ako! 

My Unholy Week


Noong isang araw lang, ginanap ang aming annual physical examination o medical examination sa opis na ginagawa every year. Huwaw! Annual nga. At dahil may physical examination, hindi makakalagpas ang rectal examination na ginagawa sa mga pasyente. Sabi ko sa sarili ko eh ayaw ko tumuwad kaya naka-fixed na sa utak ko ang sasabihin ko, “Doc, pwede bang i-skip na lang natin yan?”Pag humirit siguro si Doc na hindi pwede, baka sumagot ako ng: “eh, magkano ba ang usapan natin dito, Doc?”

Naka-mindset na ang linya ko. Kabisado ko na ang script. Kaya nang nag-uusap na kami ni Doc tungkol sa medical history ko, sagot lang ako nang sagot about the pertinent information of my health. Tinanong niya kung nagyoyosi ako, kung umiinom, o kung ganyan.

At pagkatapos ay tumayo siya at lumapit sa akin at sinabing, “hinga nang malalim,” at itinutok niya ang kanyang malaking stethoscope sa puso ko.

Maghuhubad sana ako pero okay na raw kahit may t-shirt ako dahil bibilangin lang niya ang tibok ng puso ko. Porket ba naka-fitted polo shirt ako, wala na akong karapatan maghubad?!

Natapos ang aking physical examination kay Doc at dumiretso na ako  sa restroom para sa urine sample.

Isang assistant manager ang kinukuhaan ng dugo sa isang cubicle at na-overheard ko na nagtanong yung Med Tech, “sino po ba last year ang doktor niyo?” Maraming tao pero walang sumagot. Tamang tama, pumasok ako para ibigay yung urine sample ko.

“Si Dr. Eurt Lara last year.” Humble pa ako nung sinabi ko yun.

Nagtinginan lahat sa akin.

Sabay comment ng isang nurse, “wow, naaalala pa niya kung sino.”

 

Makes sense. Hindi pa rin nawawala sa puso at isipan ko si Dr. Lara last year dahil siya ang first time ko. Hindi kase ako pumalag. Noong pinatuwad niya ako dati, walang tanong-tanong akong naghubad noon. Lintek. Para akong pornstar noong last APE namin.

 

BTW, magaling kumuha ng dugo yung Med Tech na guy. Hindi masakit. Parang kagat lang ng buwaya. Bossing Jesus, nakow, holy week pa naman pero magiging mabait ako, totoo!