“Why do people have to be this lonely? What’s the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?

“I turned to face on the slab of stone, gazed at the sky, and thought about all the man-made satellites spinning around the earth. The horizon was still etched in a faint glow, and stars began to blink on in the deep, wine-colored sky. I gazed among them for the light of a satellite, but it was still too bright out to spot one with the naked eye. The sprinkling of stars looked nailed to the spot, unmoving. I closed my eyes and listened carefully for the descendants of Sputnik, even now circling the earth, gravity their only tie to the planet. Lonely metal souls in the unimpeded darkness of space, they meet, pass each other, and part, never to meet again. No words passing between them. No promises to keep.”

--Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart


“Ano’ng ginagawa ni Mr. Bueser dito sa Cubao?”
“Kuya Egay! Kumusta? Ano’ng ginagawa mo dito?”
“Punta akong Sampaloc. Kumusta ka na? Kailan ka huling umuwi?”
“Last last week pa. Kaklase ko nga pala. Si Kuya Egay, Holy Name din.”
“Sabi ko, si Mr. Bueser ba ‘yung dumaan sa harap ko? Tingnan mo nga naman. O sa’n kayo galing?”
“Nanood ng Spider-Man.”
“Dito sa Cubao?”
“Hindi. Sa Shaw. Kaso nasira ‘yung LRT kaya bumaba kami dito. Hatid ko s’ya.”
“Kumusta pag-aaral? Third year na kayo ano? Ambilis.”
“Oo nga, e. Kayo, dun pa rin? Uy, Atenista ‘tong si Kuya Egay. Kumusta’ng estudyante?”
“Wala pa ring tatalo sa kakulitan n’yo. He he.”
“Dito pa tayo nagkita ulit. Kailan kayo uuwi, kuya?”
“Di pa nga ako nakakauwi simula nung April e. Ano na ba’ng balita?”
“Di na nga rin ako nakakadaan sa clubhouse.”
“Uy, Quiapo na. Pa’no, sakay na ko? Ingat kayo.”
“Ingat din po, kuya.”
“Sige, Allan.”


+639276333###: Gudevening.pare c anwar 2 msta n?nu blita?
+639162417###: Uy musta? Eto, 2ro prin. Eto nba bgo mo #? Tnext kta mnsan s dti, d k rply.ano, architect na?
+639276333###: Stop muna aral.my proj ngaun,residential,2-story.musta kyo gf?wen ksal?imbitado me ha.
+639162417###: Buti me raket ka kht pno.Kmi prin, mag22 yrs n.tgal pa ksal,estudynte p nga un,bka mauna ka p skin.ako imbitahin mo hehe.
+639276333###: Di hndi nman wala s isip ko yang kasal hehe..anu blita smga classmates ntin.nsa italy n pala c james.buti p un hehe..sana mgkaroon tau ng reunion.
+639162417###: Oo nga.ala n ko blita sknila,kna jef at pm nlang minsan.pano,txt txt n lng.ingat ka!


“So that’s how we live our lives. No matter how deep and fatal the loss, no matter how important the thing that’s stolen from us—that’s snatched right out of our hands—even if we are left completely changed, with only the outer layer of skin from before, we continue to play our our lives this way, in silence. We drew even nearer to the end of our alloted span of time, bidding it farewell as it trails off behind. Repeating, often adroitly, the endless deeds of the everyday. Leaving behind a feeling of immeasurable emptiness.

“Maybe, in some distant place, everything is already, quietly, lost. Or at least there exists a silent place where everything can disappear, melting together in a single, overlapping figure. And as we live our lives we discover—drawing toward us the thin threads attached to each—what has been lost.”

--Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart

[Mga mga puna sa post na ito.]