Crab Sticks

Gift, 2

J. Neil C. Garcia

Lost in the sea’s
   unforgiving blue,
   I seek you.
   Before me
   the day unscrolls
   its naked scripture:
   sun, vision’s burning field,
   islands, faint presences
   crumbling in the distance,
   water, the fickle immensities
   life is made
   constant by.
   And it strikes me
   I love the sea
   because it borders
   this suffering world
   and the next:
   the soul, it is said,
   travels in a boat
   from a winding inland river,
   homing clear-eyed
   toward the ocean–
   which is the bottomless
   beyond.
   And I know:
   here, upon this beach,
   wash the crushed remains
   of what was once mortal:
   bone and kelp,
   driftwood and tentacle,
   porous red coral–
   keepsakes
   life leaves behind
   before
   dissolving
   back to brine.
   I am home here, then,
   whom the world
   never loved,
   and from its torn edges
   I can almost see
   it all end:
   an onrushing tide,
   a radiant sea-swell
   sweeping away all appearance,
   gentle eddies
   whittling the self
   till it is no longer
   even sand.
   I think of you
   landlocked and lost
   in another element–
   your body.
   The sea teaches me
   love is a wish
   not for safety
   but for destruction.
   I am not ashamed
   to admit it:

  I love you
   the way water loves.
   Which is to say
   I wish the world
   were through with you,
   so you could return to me
   ravaged, upon this shore:
   a shell
   held tight
   inside my palm.

Birthday’s coming up in two days, and for the second time in my life, I am not excitedly planning my party. I am dreading it, actually. Plus, I’ve been spending too much on trips back to Cavite for our group’s campaign (an outreach program of some sort) which means I’m declaring a state of bankruptcy right smack on my birthday. Iwas libre.

Hmm. God, I’m getting old. I’ll be 18 – not a minor anymore. Ugh. Nothing too special about that now, huh? Oh-kay… so on to my new post. I’m now in my morbid mode which should explain the contents of this entry. I just wanna make sure that if I suddenly die, things will be done properly.

I want a simple white casket, no tinselly thingamajigs on the sides please. I find that tacky. Silver accents would be fine, but just a little. I want my casket to be open. Make me wear a simple white shirt, jeans and Chucks. If my face was disfigured or horribly bruised during my death (let’s consider all possibilities - even the most undesirable ones), please have the casket closed and make it stay that way. The last thing I want to become is the horrible monster that lurks in my loved ones’ nightmares.

I want my makeup to be done lightly.

Arlington’s chapel is nice and spacious enough. I like it.

Skip the peanuts and the tetra-pack juices. Only good food should be served during my wake. Pistachios should be everywhere. Just ask the people close to me what I love eating – that’s what I want in my wake.

My favorite songs should be heard softly in the background during my wake.

Sa mami ko, you are the number one woman in my life. Be happy.

To my little sisters, enjoy life, break rules if you need to, mag-asawa ng gwapo. Think of your children.

To the people who constantly attempted to make my existence an annex of hell, kindly brace yourselves for horrible nightmares.

Sa asawa ko, ‘lam mo na yun. Should I leave the world at this moment, I wish to see you in another lifetime. My life may end but my feelings for you won’t. Ingat palagi.

Happy, 18th birthday to me.