FUBARgenre: The Genre of Fubar

I had every intention of staying at least a month in Manila, or long enough to be missed, anyway. It didn’t happen. My so-called sojourn didn’t even last an entire two weeks. I had to come home. Or whatever you call this place where I eat, live, and sleep. I had to come back to him. For whatever reason. I had to.

IM archive:
Saturday, October 20, 2007

Yan: hay ambot oi. ambot jud. wa na ko kasabot sa atong duha.

Mark: ugma nalang ta magstorya oi. kay di maayo diri…lahi-on man nimo akong tono gud

Yan: hahay

Yan: love ko nimo?

Mark: dapat pa ba na ipangutana…?

Mark: syempre

Yan: ngano man?

Mark: ngano man..?

Yan: yeah. ngano man?

Mark: kay love tika..

Mark: di na na dapat i-explain

Yan: ganahan ko makabalo

Mark: sige ra man ako ang kinahanglan ug proof oi…

Mark: wa gihapon ka kakita unsa tika ka love..?

Yan: ngano man?

Yan: nganong love man ko nimo?

Yan: wa ko nangita ug proof

Yan: i just want to know why

Mark: kibaw naman ka…

Yan: wala

Mark: hayyy

Yan: ngano man?

Mark: kay malipay ko kung naa ka

Mark: kay malingaw ko kung naa ka…

Mark: d ko mahimutang kung wala ka

Mark: kuwang akong adlaw kung wala ka

Mark: maglisod ko ug katulog kung wala ka

Mark: mingawon ko nimo kastorya

Mark: ganahan ko magkuyog ta

Yan: di man na love

Yan: anad man na

Mark: ah kapoya oi

Mark: wa gyuy sakto ana..?

Yan: see? wa pa ko niuli, gikapoy na ka

Mark: daan pa gyud ko…

Mark: mao na dugay ko nitubag kay kahibaw ko sayop dayon akong ipangtubag

Mark: hahay

Mark: ugma nalang ta magstorya, yan…please…dili gyud maayo diri

And so I came back. Not for that reason alone. But for so many more.

I think it just hit me. That I didn’t know what I was looking for in Manila. That I didn’t even know what I was doing there.

The blazing lights of Makati — its effervescence, its myriad distractions, its infinite subplots and twists — provided a momentary diversion.

But in the cold of the night, when the lights dimmed, as I smoked alone in my solitary tower, my heart ached for so many things. Things I could not even name. …Laughter, I suppose? Yes, it was probably laughter I craved. A deep familiar sound, a guffaw, a chuckle, even a snort. I ached so much for that sound, that last link to my world. That it was all I could do not to grab a passing stranger to feel just the slightest semblance of warmth.

*

And so now, I’m back.

Back to what? Back to this.

And sometimes, this is all I ever want.

It’s so easy. So easy to live this life.

But this is not my life.

And, if there’s one thing that I’ve learned from all these, it’s that I have yet to start living.

*

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