The Fifth Summer.

About last week or so, Arisa, one of this year's new tutors of LnK, was asking me to stay around one more year. After all, it'll be LnK's 25th anniv come 2006, and it'd be my sixth consecutive year there should I stick around. That'd be an unprecedented feat, considering how many of us leave within their first three years, and how most of them leave because they never get "elected into execom", or worse, that "their friends left na rin". And I know what that feels like :D.

As tempting as Arisa's offer stands, I look to the future. The last of my peers who stuck around, Angel, shall soon step down as Chair by the end of the year. Migs Balma, Chreesy, Honeypie, Tara and Perry are all stepping up to the plate to lead. The new Claret boys gang are all growing into legitimate kuyas for the kids. The new Miriam contingent is as strong as ever, and with Issa's kid brother Migs recruiting, there's also a whole lot more people from the PAREF system teaching.

And where will I be, if I stay? I belong to no 'faction', nor will my leadership be greatly missed for there are others. There are also more than enough able bodies to fill out classes by next summer. (unless something goes terribly wrong).

So sige. Tomorrow, barring any strange events come next summer, shall be my very, very, VERY last day of LnK. Especially since Jess comes first, and that I can't make my last Tutors' Outing on Saturday. :(

Tomorrow, there will be no fanfare, no "Lifetime Achievement Awards" jokes, no lights nor magic, no teary eyes. It'd be a graduation of my last 9 kids (arguably the ones I've taken the best care of ever), a short party for the grad, and tutors' night. And when it's over, bahala na. I may still help out teach the UPCAT reviews, but that'd be it. After that, well... fate and Jess will decide.

[Oddly enough, there is word that tomorrow somebody from the Philippine Star will be on hand to cover their graduation. Hehe. Funny how there's this sudden interest in our group now that many of my friends, peers, and well, me are all on their way out.]

It's been a good run. If anything, the greatest achievement this summer is that all 9 of my kids have recieved full scholarship benefits for their final schoolyear in high school. Proud ako. ü

Never no mind that they shan't elect me into execom next summer. I'd be nice, but if they don't, then I'd have no reason to stay anymore. Ate JenTan always said that we come back year by year, because, in light of the big picture, the kids need us. But now, I realize maybe it won't necessarily be me that they'll be needing anytime soon.

I'll miss it dearly. It was the place where dreams came true (some, literally!). I've met more friends there in the past five summers than I ever have in my entire time in high school and college, and a lot of the closest confidants I keep are found there.

I'll miss waking up early to make it in time for class. I'll miss staying up late to write out exams for the kids. I'll miss the tambay times in friends' houses, or the massive impromptu parties at my pad. I'll miss having to defend my committment to tutor the kids before my parents. I'll miss the lunches out, the movies watched together, the birthdays in Mang Jimmy's and the debuts in posh places here and there. And most of all, I'll miss the quiet knowing that what I do, somehow, adds up to the future of somebody other than myself, somebody I probably may never see again, but somebody whose life, hopefully, I'd have made better.

If I wasn't part of LnK, maybe (or most certainly) I'd never have been a Dayzer, I'd never have the heart to shift out, or that I'd lead summers like many of those rich kids wasting money on the beach or long-distance trips abroad. And that's precisely what I'm trained not to do: waste money, not in how my family's been doing this far. And besides, A-Days keeps me busy too, among other things. And while I serve one master in both pursuits, somehow, it's as though He wants me to pick one way to serve Him. And somehow, LnK ain't it anymore.

Hence, my departure. With my kid sister and younger brother still doing the college thing, I have to get a job when I'm out of school. (haha. sounds like a prison story.) And I realize I'm not wont to do the Law School/MBA/Masters/Med School thing, since that's exactly what I shouldn't be doing: I need to find work, dammit!

I need to either find marketable skills, or actually do something "worthwhile" that can help me get them skills. I have to leave the chalk, red ink and eraser behind, and look for something else that can give me something to wake up for.

I have to go, when I personally feel I'm not ready to leave yet. Not yet.

current music: Prayer Cycle - Hope

I've been thinking about doing something like this for a while now. Let's just see where it takes us. I consider this the message I'd write to be placed inside the very last bottle on this metaphorical deserted island. May it find the person it seeks.

OPEN LETTER TO ONE I DO NOT WISH TO EMBARRASS BY NAMING

Hi. We haven't talked in years, you and me. I know it's odd that you're reading this now. I find it unsual myself, considering that the last letter I wrote you served to drive us apart. But that's old stuff now. I'm certain much has changed in your side of the globe.

Me? I guess I'm okay. I'm positive you haven't heard about me in a long while. Friendster was enough to prove you had forgotten me. And yet, in a skewed, strange way, I'm glad you have. You see, I always thought that I should disappear from people's lives for long periods of time. Then, after I'd have gone through changes (like, become more outgoing, or lose weight), I'd find you again. And I'd see how people like you would find it all. How I got to start anew, how I got myself on the right foot.

Strangely enough, I'm the leopard who couldn't shed any of his spots. I still write poems when I'm lost. I still keep other people's secrets and worry about them silly. I still like reminding people that I'm around. I still wish I could let people understand what it'd be like if I weren't around.

I still think of you. After all these years.

I still think of you when I see starry nights, remembering how your eyes looked like, without your glasses. I still think of you when I see people dancing arm in arm. I still think of you when I see angels, and how you told me they meant something to you. I still think of you when I write poetry, and of the talks we've had about the topic. I still think of you when I hear stories about people who physically hurt themselves because they felt so lost and frustrated. I still think of you when I'm lost myself, and how your presence over a phone line kept me going fine.

I think of you when I see toenails painted red, like the night I told you how much I liked your shoes. You told me then that it wasn't new. But I wasn't really looking at your feet. I was just doing my best not to stare at your face that night, lest I be rude. And it wasn't easy mind you; you looked quite beautiful.

You haven't heard a peep from me about it, and yes, it's better that way. Last time we talked, you told me there was this man in your life, and that he was jealous as hell over guys like me who called. Fine. I decided to let whatever emotional attachment you held on me go. Like the poem goes "if little by little, you forget me, I shall forget you, little by little".

And yet somehow, I've not forgotten you. I can't forget you. Not you. After all, it's not easy wiping someone's tears and forget you were there when they wept? Or that maybe, just maybe, you knew what to do to stop them from crying, but you couldn't, and never forgive yourself for years to come?

Years passed and somehow, news about you still arrived. About how you were doing in school, or how you were so involved in dance and stuff. It was odd, hearing them. I thought I had moved on and was slowly making better. But truth be told, I also missed you. And it hurt knowing that when I started having feelings, we had to live separate lives.

For the most part, it's alright. But in my quiet moments in prayer, in thought, in meditation... thoughts still return to my past, which includes you and others I fail to be there for. Each time, I cannot do much but lift hands heavenward, for the hands can do little else than pray. And it isn't a good feeling.

I do not know why I'm compelled to write this. All I know is that somehow, we disappeared from each others' lives. I do not regret liking you, even if all the signs show me that you never did nor would feel the same way. I do not regret listening to your problems on the phone. I do not regret walking away from that evening an angel less and a few tears on my coat more.

All I know is that as I write this, I try to cast your memory away. For I know that I can't fully love others until I do.

I fervently hope that you're happy, wherever you may be. And if I find you again, please don't take it against me that I act like I've forgotten you. I'd prefer the anonymity, honestly, just as I'd expect you not to respond should I call out your name out of the blue some odd place else.

Goodbye and God bless,
Raphael

Spent the whole day with LnK. Haha. I haven't done that ALL SUMMER. And it's so nice.

830 featured my class taking up sentence patterns and getting their midterms back. Which, I'm happy to say, that they learned real quick. Yey. :)

Late morning, I spent my free cut from PolSci with Michiko. She wasn't feeling too good at the start of her day, for reasons I shall not discuss. But I'm in the "cheering-up business" (as always!) and I did what I do best: buy depressed people coffee. :) We stole away from Della five minutes before Math class, I treated her to frap light with my newly-discovered Starbucks gift certificates. Lovely morning of coffee and talk. Always nice. So yes, naka-pagbond din kami ni Mich at long last this summer. And not a day too later either, as she's leaving tomorrow for America. Talked about all sorts of things, and we even got back to Della just in time for class to end.

A safe and happy trip we hope for the 'Soriano Sorority'. hehe. Lunch out was at Shakey's, their treat, making the despidida official. My god. Those two came prepared; they sent waves upon waves of pizza to over 30 LnK tutors. Aakalain mong pinapataba nila kami, hahainin, at babaunin kami papuntang 'tate. Normally, recent LnK tradition has that in Shakey's, host pays for food, you pay your drink. Mich and Migi spared us drinks! Five bucks per head lang for drink. Hehe. Ambait. In turn, I donated fifty bucks, just to help things along (and since some of us left early at the time).

I'm not complaining. Food was good, and I hadn't eaten this much in a three months! :) but unfortunately, i feel something like blood throb on my right shoulder (parang may pumipitik). yes, regret has reared its head. tsk. looks like i've got to do an extra day of working out lined up.

[Somebody remind me to ask VJ for the "incriminatingly stupid" pictures of Perry modelling an MC pep squad jacket in Shakey's. What fun. :)]

After saying goodbyes to the Sorianos, we went for billiards. I had to drive, drop them off at FBR, and park in Ateneo, as my kid brother was supposed to use the car. I park, and he texts that he'd take the jeep instead. Nge.

I take a trike to FBR, and game on na 'to! Paeng and I played two of the ugliest rounds of pool. BOTH of us just sucked on the day. :p (you can ask him. hehe.) Played some more until it was time to fetch Chimoms from UP Orientation.

All in all, a good day, except that yumaman ang mga "watch-your-car" boys at trike drivers sa akin. Haha.Now, I'm financially falling apart.

I wonder if I can still cook for LnK Parent's night?

ah, di bale. PolSci Long Test first.

Current music: My Mistakes - 112

Hango sa isang kuwentong nabasa ko sa isang magasin. Hindi ko na sasabihin kung sino nagsulat nung nabasa ko.

Dissection
Raph Doval-Santos

The body's limbs
are spread on the plate.
Science students stare, fumble,
some know not what they do.

Pins are pushed like nails
on fins and places
where wrists would be
for people.

Later, they will lance its side
with a probe to flush away
fluids and blood.

A label placed near its head reads:
"Here is the cochlea. It allows
the frog to croak."

The teacher shows
his handiwork as an example for others.
He heads to the sink to wash his hands.

"Start at the sides and make a cross -
shaped incision on the chest,
and cut until you reach
the heart."

The pupils have hands
that shake scalpel and scissors.
They beg for the final hour when
the frog stops twitching like their hands.

Others sniff back
the formaldehyde's scent,
water leaking from the eye ducts.