Phrancks dumpsite

2004-12-06T06:58:00.000-08:00

A Fierce One Looking So Calm...

2004-12-06T06:29:00.000-08:00

Heaven Gate... The Long Lost Sanctuary

Balugita by: Frank Kropaczewski Jr.

2004-12-06T01:47:00.000-08:00

Kanina pa siya tinatawag na Balugita ng mga kalarong walang habas sa panggagahasa sa kanyang pagkatao... Wala nga siyang magawa kundi ang umiyak sa sunod sunod na pagtira ng mga nilalang na ito. Sa isip isipan lang niya nasasabi. "Mga hayup kayo, kung ako lamang ay makakaganti sa mga matalim niyong dila at isa isa ko kayung wawasakin. Umiiyak, masakit nga raw sa puso... Aray... "Hindi ako balugita!" sabay sigaw niya sa mga taong nangaasar...

"Aba si Balugita palaban na... Kailan ka pa natutong wumalanghiya sa amin... Sa aming mga mas nakakalakas." Sabay tawa nitong demonyong na may halong sarkastikong pang hihimok... Hinihimok niya si balugitang magalit... at bakit? upang makita niyang natutuwa siya... Demonyo nga eh! Walang habas pa ito sa pagkakalikot sa puso ni balugita upang ito'y magalit, manliit, sumigaw, tumihaya at sabay mag ala-batang hindi nabigyan ng laruan sa pagtadyak sa hangin habang nakahandusay sa lapag...
Ito namang si Balugita hinding hindi magpapatalo... Ayan na at magwawala... "Mga putangina ninyo... Wala kayong karapatang tawagin akong balugita, Makiling ang pangalan ko hindi balugita... mga salot!!!!" at sabay takbo palayo sa kanila patungo sa kanyang ilog... Tinatawag niya itong kanya dito siya umiiyak, sumisigaw, nagwawala, nagmumura, tumatahimik, naghuhurimintado... Baliw na nga siyang maituturing kung siya'y makikita mo roon. Umupo siya sa isang bato. Humuhikbi habang binibigkas niya ang mga salitang nais niya sanang masabi kanina pa.... "Mga bagtit kayo... Hindi niyo ko kaanuano at wala kayong karapatang pag sigawan ako at saktan... mga hayop"
Dito sa ilog niya inilalabas ang lahat ng nais niyang maramdaman. Dito sa ilog na kahit hindi naman kagandahan ay maitatawag niyang kanya. Maduming ilog ito, kulay putik at mistulang patay na ang mga isda sa gawing lugar nito. Ilog Pasig ito. mabaho, madumi, putik... Parang si balugita. Halos lahat ng katangian ng dalawa ay magkaparehas.

Kinabukasan masangsang ang ilog. Hindi pangkaraniwan itong naaamoy. Mas masangsang pa kaysa sa noon.
Nagkakagulo ang mga tao nitong umaga. magkumpol kumpol ang mga usisera at usisera. Pati si Aling Gloria ang salot na tsismosa sa kanto ng Pasig ay naroroon. At ano pa ba ang ginagawa niya doon? Eh, di kumalap ng tsismis.
Ano nga ba ang nangyayari dito? Bakit halos lahat ng tao ay nagsamasama rito.
"Aling Gloria may lumutang na patay kanina diyan sa ilog. Isang babae, payat, parang aso at may sukang dilaw pa na lumalabas sa bunganga niya. Nagpakamatay yata." isa pang tsismosa ang nagsasalita.
Napagalamang si Balugita ang patay. Sa dahilang ang Diyos lamang niya ang nakakaalam. Isa si Balugita sa mga libo libong taong nakatirsa sa parteng yun ng ilog. Yung mga kapuspalad, yung kumakain ng basura, yung mga hayok sa pera... Kasama pa syempre doon yung mga taong tulad ni aling Gloria, yung mga tamad na walang ginagawa kundi magpalaki ng bayag sa bahay, pati ang mga tambay sa kanto, si Atong Adik, si Shielang Puta, si Kaloy Ex-con at pati na tong si Kikong lasingero. Yung mga nangaasar kay Balugita dito rin nakatira. At syempre maraming mga mapapalad ang hindi nakatira sa gawi nito ng bansang lugmok sa ilalim ng Ilog Pasig, yung mga bulag na lumalangoy sa pera, yung mga high class yaya, yung mga top-of-the-line puta, yung mga tagabenta ng Shabu, yung mga pa-epekepek lang at libo libung nagsasawalang bahala sa mga uri ni Balugita. Yung Balugang Ita na streetchild. Toktok girl at tagabenta ng sampagita sa mga sulok at isang kalabit-penge.

Pero alam ko masaya si Balugita ngayon. Kasama na siya ng Ilog...

...Iisa na sila.

I Remember by: Frank Kropaczewski Jr.

2004-12-03T06:32:00.000-08:00

I can still remember...

It was a humid winter day. In fact it was raining hard that day. Coming from school I rushed home for I forgot my umbrella that afternoon. I felt the cold water running on my cheeks and as if it was blood gushing from an open wound. Yes it was. I could only wish for a blanket in my bed at home that afternoon. And not only that, I also had to go to the drugstore and spend my last money on buying medicine for papa. He has cancer in the lungs because of heavy smoking back when he was younger. Oh! If he could only go back to those younger years and stop what he had done that's what he always says. But time is like a sinking ship. No worthy of coming back to the open water but going deeper and deeper unto the depths of the ocean. Now I am at the drugstore.
"Merry Christmas in advance Juno, how are you? How's your father?" the cashier said as if she knew me back when I was just young. But in fact she does. For I would always come here to buy medicine every week almost a year now.
"Ate Leila, father's worst now. He would only wish for his death already but that will be hard for me you know that ate." I replied and as I was saying these the rain grew harder and the wind is now wilder than I had experienced before. "Well Juno here's the medicine all ready. Do you have umbrella Juno?" she asked.
"I forgot it at home"
"Well you can borrow this umbrella of mine for now because I know you won't be commuting on any vehicle. I know you don't have any money already. You spent all the money you get in selling your homemade fans in this medicine Juno"
"Ate Leila you had already been an angel to me all this time and if only I could repay you..."
"Well at least you could only repay me with your smile. All this time I could only wish for a real smile full of sincerity with all the people around I see frowning" said she and followed with a laugh.
"Thanks ate, bye-bye. Well Merry Christmas also." I rushed home for I would still walk miles despite of the bad weather. I saw our house already from a distance and smiled. 'Papa I'm already here' I said to myself. I ran faster and as if no one could stop me. I'm already at the door and vastly opened it. I don't know why I am so excited going home now, unlike before as far as I could remember. I opened the door and shouted, "Papa here I am already! Here's the medicine and I bought you some rice pudding. These are really nice and hot." I rushed to the kitchen getting some plates for papa and me. I prepared the food already, together with the glass of water and medicine. I walked to papa's little room. I saw papa there in his small bed and a dextrose hose near it.
I walked slowly he was lying facing the other side so i concluded he was sleeping. I got near him and i put down the items i brought on the small table near his bed. I sat on the bed near Papa and whispered. "Papa i'm here wake up already." but Papa didn't respond at all. I grew nearer him and felt him. He was cold. But why? I pull Papa and set him straight. Oh! He was smiling at me and opened his eyes. "My ever beloved son you came home already. How's school?" he said in those voice so deep i loved the most in all other voices i knew.
"School's like every school, just plain and boring study" I replied with a laugh.
"Son, you know your learning's important and you must study real hard." Then, papa grew silent. I saw his eyes deepened. "Son will you come near me I want to whisper you something." I get nearer and i put my ear near his lips. "I want you to know I love you and... Merry Christmas son." Then i pushed him back struggling for him to put his hands off me. I want to push him off so i couldn't hear those words for I knew those were his last words. Then I gathered the effort to push him. I saw him smiling at me...

...lifeless.

I don't want to cry that afternoon. I want to be strong but like the rain on my cheeks waters flowed like blood from an open wound. I don't know what i'm feeling then. All I knew was I don't want this feeling. It hurts deep inside. Down deeper to the bones. Chilling my body furiously. creating an unbearable impact. I ran outside our home wanting to get far of the dreadful sight I saw. I ran to the street. The cold breeze and the hard rain seemed nothing to me. No one could stop me as if i am searching for something and until now i still don't know what am i searching. I'm lost. I could only see my face at the pod of water created by the rain,

...my rain.

I saw him, the boy, he was young so lean and so idle. I was looking for his real smile but it was lost and it's stolen, well that is from my point of view. Stolen by whom? No one knows. Then... I fainted.

...and after that.

I see myself in a crowd of people. They all look so sad and I know I'm the only one smiling.

And I can only wish I couldn't remember.