batabatuta blog

            Death seems to be something that would bring solemn tears to our eyes, and sometimes it is something that we fear. We are afraid to die or to lose the conscience of being. But I have always seen death as the only passage to the real existence – like time. It is something one would run to catch up and try to bring back but one would know only that when it is really means is about longing for love and frailty, indirectly, implied because of the fear at one might see a crack of weakness.

            I cracked my brain for some reasons to convince myself that my day was an ordinary one although the seconds that passed by were a little abstruse. Maybe it was because I was waiting for some worldly signs from something unknown. Today is June 9, and two years ago, I obtained the very same feelings like today. Not would someone would die again. But if it would be me, I guess, I would not waste time reviewing for a chemistry test tomorrow. I closed my eyes for a while and assumed myself that nothing wrong will happen today.

            Two years ago was the last time I ever attended a Wednesday novena. I would still remember myself being dragged inside the church by an unknown force and I sat on one of the pews.  When I received the Holy Eucharist, a lonely but strong tears fell and rolled down my pimple patched face. I didn’t know what’s the reason was until a phone call brought me to my knees. PHIL was gone, eaten by an acute leukemia. So that’s why I am bowling like a five year old when I was in the church…because Phil died on the 9^th day of June.

            Two years ago was the last time I ever attended, I will never forget that. When I went to my college and I come to face the reality, one morning a somewhat familiar song awakened me from the past with a confused mood. It was Phil’s favorite song, an acoustic one. I didn’t know why the hell it suddenly floated in the air. I haven’t heard that song in months. I thought it was just a coincident. Night came and a friend called and reminded me…that day was Phil’s death anniversary. So, there it was – a realization that I was a stupid like a maggot with nothing but dumbness.

            I looked at the sagging ceiling of our house and admired the broken lamp at the gate post, wondering what could be the only beautiful thing I could see here…my lovebirds. One was packing n some birdseed and I manage to smile, maybe the other one was perched on a branch. I carefully place in between the steel bars of the cage. I love them more than a NSYNC cd…or maybe more than a bar of Cadbury or more than vanity. I walked closer to the window and looked for a blue-colored-one…it was missing.

            I ran outside and held my hands, myself, tightly so I won’t break down into pieces. The little bird was lying on the bottom steel bars with its eyes closed. My hands were shaking as I opened the cage door and cupped the bird in my hands…DEAD…without LIFE…stolen by hell-given fate. I cursed myself that I would die if ever cry…but I cried…ME…the little sensitive thing who knew nothing. The bird was dead and I guess it was my fault in my entire life. Do you think it was HIM?

            I searched for answers. I strongly wish it was better if it is me who left the world who does not need me anymore.

            I knew it. Today is June 9

“TRIALS DON’T COME ALONG O MAKE US FALL, BUT FOR US TO LOOK GOD AND CALL. TRIALS DON’T SERVE AS A KEY TO HATE BUT RATHER DOORS TO A GREATER FATE…”