It was 6:00 when I reached Recto station. The rain began to pour and the wind was portentous. Suddenly I found myself in a different world I never knew existed before: so cinematic reminiscent of Tim Burton gothic movies. I took my MP3 and Pearl Jam underscored:
“The ocean is full for everyone is crying. The sorrow gets bigger and the sorrow is denied. The full moon is looking for a friend in high tide.”
The cold dusk seeped through my spine. Neon lights barely perceptible in a night shrouded with a dark mantle. From my view, I could see the outline of the building like a giant monolith, mournful in the gloomy sky.
Lightning crashed.
I saw shadows darting across the opaque and rickety metals and walls darkened by soot and dirt. I shouted but no one paid attention. Nobody seemed to care I existed.
Yonder, I saw the spires of the San Sebastian church, the cross of the Quiapo church stabbed the sky. The protruding iron bars of under constructed flyover, and the dangling shards and barbed wire of dilapidated buildings violently slashed the rotten street.
Rain poured harder. The street bled. Clogged canals coughed and spurted gore. Manholes sputtered roaches and rodents hunting for the cadaver. And then, from the decaying Avenida came out Magdalenas like swarms of maggots. I smelled the stench of moist decaying flesh. Human cannibals lustily came like new terrorists.
The earth shook as thunder roared like furious beast. And then silence: I hear the beggar serenades in a song, doleful like vesper bells. I dropped a coin into his empty Mc Donald’s cup.
Just then the train came and I hurried home.
I was home finally. I returned to my mousehole were I sought comfort with my pillows, blanket and my own illusions and make believes.
I envy the unfeeling and the unthinking.
"The feeling we can’t leave behind. The meaning we can’t leave behind. Our innocence lost in one time. We are different behind the eyes. There is no need to hide."
_______
*written sometime ago
“The ocean is full for everyone is crying. The sorrow gets bigger and the sorrow is denied. The full moon is looking for a friend in high tide.”
The cold dusk seeped through my spine. Neon lights barely perceptible in a night shrouded with a dark mantle. From my view, I could see the outline of the building like a giant monolith, mournful in the gloomy sky.
Lightning crashed.
I saw shadows darting across the opaque and rickety metals and walls darkened by soot and dirt. I shouted but no one paid attention. Nobody seemed to care I existed.
Yonder, I saw the spires of the San Sebastian church, the cross of the Quiapo church stabbed the sky. The protruding iron bars of under constructed flyover, and the dangling shards and barbed wire of dilapidated buildings violently slashed the rotten street.
Rain poured harder. The street bled. Clogged canals coughed and spurted gore. Manholes sputtered roaches and rodents hunting for the cadaver. And then, from the decaying Avenida came out Magdalenas like swarms of maggots. I smelled the stench of moist decaying flesh. Human cannibals lustily came like new terrorists.
The earth shook as thunder roared like furious beast. And then silence: I hear the beggar serenades in a song, doleful like vesper bells. I dropped a coin into his empty Mc Donald’s cup.
Just then the train came and I hurried home.
I was home finally. I returned to my mousehole were I sought comfort with my pillows, blanket and my own illusions and make believes.
I envy the unfeeling and the unthinking.
"The feeling we can’t leave behind. The meaning we can’t leave behind. Our innocence lost in one time. We are different behind the eyes. There is no need to hide."
_______
*written sometime ago
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