I guess there need not be a rundown of what took place before the trip that prompted me to leave my job (since there had been tears in almost every step of the way) so I’ll just be focusing on what happened during and after the convention (and the comments that I’ve had the decency not to include in the daily report that the university had asked of us).
On the prowl after the NSPC.
Never underestimate the ability of a busy road to make you feel even lonelier than you already are while standing on a sidewalk and waiting for a jeepney homebound.
Jeepneys pass by. You still stand there waiting. Different sights and sounds disturb your senses. Headlights assault your ears; horns attack your eyes. You cover your nose and mouth with your handkerchief lest your brain fails to give proper words for your thoughts. The stoplight turns from yellow to red. Pedestrians cross the road. You still stand there sighing in exasperation.
The stoplight signals go. Headlights attack your eyes; horns assault your ears. You cover your nose and mouth with your handkerchief. Jeepneys pass by. Some of them even stop in front of you but you look at them with your signature blank stare. Jeepneys pass by while you still stand there waiting in vain.
Waiting makes up half of your life’s sadness—waiting for something that won’t come, waiting for someone who won’t arrive. Sometimes you wonder why you even bother waiting for hours by the jeepney stop when you can take the train instead, when you know that you run the risk of bumping into him somewhere over there the moment you alight the jeepney. What would you do should that happen?
Would you a) feign indifference and continue walking straight ahead like how you ignore most of the people you consider unimportant; b) look into his eyes longer than what’s allowed in the rules of etiquette; or c) wave a hi, smile, catch up like the good old days and tell him about this guy you’ve met who could be the prototype of the man you’d marry someday?
Two people who used to be best friends until one made the mistake of breaching that proverbial thin line separating love and friendship. You tried to push him away at first by picking up fights to no avail. Despite the countless arguments, which were mostly short-lived, you remained stuck with each other. You hadn’t intended to make your feelings known but some misguided soul did it for you. He didn’t seem to mind the discovery, unlike how male leads would usually do in sappy TV shows, but he didn’t seem willing to talk about it either. Yes, for it was him who told you that “in friendship, words can be unspoken yet be understood” during one of your terrible fights years back.
Nothing really changed; after that he even pledged that he’d be there for you no matter what and you told him you’d do the same, ‘nothing more to it than that’.
Nothing really changed until your online quarrels grew indirectly proportional with the times you see each other. While time and distance apparently took their toll on your unstable relationship, it seemed that both of you had also made the conscious move of bidding the last of your goodbyes and completely cutting the ties in a closure hidden behind the words you dared not speak. Or a closure lost in the depths of silence so loud it made the both of you deaf.
The universe also seemed to have conspired not to let your paths cross for more than a year, as of this writing, despite living in neighboring barangays of the same city. I bet you wouldn’t even bump into each other no matter how many times you ride a jeepney homebound.
You have actually come to believe that since you’re seemingly the same, yet utterly different in a way, the two of you have led parallel lives—perhaps you will meet in the event that parallel lines intersect at one point.
short stop, sudden drop
A series of drama ensued upon the release of the first issue that hampered us to prepare for the second. E said she’d resign from her post and then took her words back. What made the hoopla even worse, I think, was the meddling of the alumni Dakom staff. This was kind of unfair since the ones who spoke out had worked with E in the past (she’s been with Dakom a year ahead of the rest of the staff), and hardly knew us and the situation that was before us. They said things as if we’re trying to oust E. They were apparently defending her, saying that during their time, there’s also this former editor-in-chief who neglected his responsibilities and yet they didn’t do anything to drive him out of his position.
The analogy alone, which was ridiculous in the first place, was not supposed to grant anyone the right to disregard his duties, of course. The position was not something one could just wear like a crown; a huge responsibility comes with it. We wouldn’t allow such an injustice.
We tried to resolve matters in a no-holds-barred talk with the entire staff. Majority of the kids decided to give her another chance and let her stay as the editor-in-chief. I couldn’t blame them since they weren’t in our shoes. They weren’t in MI’s shoes. They were informed of the situation but they didn’t see what was really happening with their different set of eyes. I respected their ignorance. E remained in her position under certain conditions.
In all fairness to E, I must say she tried. She tried to fulfill her part of the deal until such time that her efforts dwindled and she fell back to inactivity again. I had been busy with internship that’s why I didn’t have a clue about what was happening lately. The next thing this manbitch I’d call RB told me was MI would replace E in the editorial board and he would replace MI. An online poll was conducted to figure who’d replace whom. I wondered what it was for since RB had already told me who the new editor-in-chief and associate editor would be before posting the poll. I thought they’re already decided.
E was supposed to be listed as a senior correspondent but something happened and she chose to leave Dakom once and for all. Fewer words, less drama than her earlier resignation attempt. I was glad we were spared.
So under MI, we exhausted every drop of blood and sweat from our sleep-deprived selves (and every cent from the amount that’s left of our meager fund) for Dakom’s second issue and you can read it here. We’re planning to release a lampoon issue, a special report and a literary folio (we’re still open for submissions… and donations!) before the next academic year starts, hoping that the next set of editors wouldn’t have to describe their term as yet another ‘troubled’ year.
That description of our Dakom group couldn’t be any more truthful. On second thought, it could actually be an understatement, but I’ve been through enough troubles this academic year that I wouldn’t mind whatever level of ‘troubled’ it would be labelled. Nothing could help it, anyway.
From that fateful day of the editorial board exam and the delivery of the exit spiel of the seniors in 2011, I felt that something’s amiss. Then came the announcement of who’s going to be in this and that position. After the failure that was me during the exam, I knew exactly where I was supposed to be placed; what left me thinking was how that person got to the top. I had my doubts, of course, since it was the seniors who said that she’s, uh, not that skilled in the writing arena. However, one of the Chief’s text messages from way back also came to mind: He told me he was eyeing her for the editorship considering her leadership skills. I also emerged as a candidate, he said, because of my (alleged) writing skills. I guess that did me in — freakin’ expectations.
So E was hailed as the editor-in-chief, MI as the associate editor and MA as the managing editor. The seniors then made it clear that their decision was based solely on the editorial board exam. After the passing of the baton, to borrow the Chief’s words, we’re left on our own.
The first meeting E called for went well. She was kind of indecisive, considering her schedule as a ramp model perhaps, but I didn’t take it against her at that time.
As months wore on, E’s excuses and absences became a big deal that the associate editor couldn’t stand her any longer. E might have been present, although perpetually late, during some meetings, but the agenda she’d laid down were almost the same every time that it wouldn’t have mattered if she were absent.
My fears, which I had told the Chief months before the editorial board exam, started to take shape. I knew then that E and MI wouldn’t get along very well since the former, who’s a staunch part of the reds long before becoming a model, is short-tempered, while the latter, who’s a guy trapped in a girl’s body (what? LOL), is short-tempered as well. Also, both are not easily shaken when it comes to the things they believe in. They’re like two positive magnetic poles bound to repel at the slightest attempt to be placed side by side.
Then again, the law of magnetism seemed to have lost its effect in their case; these two positive poles collided head-on and spurred an explosion.
Tension was brewing during the first few meetings leading to the release of our first issue. She who was supposed to take charge barely contributed anything to the editing of the paper that MI almost put the words ‘on leave’ opposite her name on the masthead. It was hard work, especially for MI who didn’t have an internet connection back then, but it was really fulfilling that I actually didn’t mind doing the job that wasn’t for me. Never mind the crappy articles the correspondents wrote, I told myself, it’s my duty to serve the students and seek the truth and I’m willing to give up my love life for it! I even put my thesis and internship aside while the first issue was under way. What irked me was the way E took the credit for herself, even calling us ‘her’ editors when it’s Dakom we’re working for, not her.
You know I have written about you so many times in the past that writing about you in a column and getting it published could cost me my almost-nonexistent reputation and give you an idea that I am not over you yet, when in fact, I am, well at least I think I am, although stating it here only underscores the notion that maybe I am not.
This attraction is not going anywhere so I guess I better stop replying to your pop-up messages or unfriend you on Facebook once and for all (but on second thought, that would be too obvious so I’m probably sticking to the former). I know we couldn’t really end up together, since you, one of the most likeable persons I’ve ever known, plus me, the complete opposite, spells a damn good trouble from the way I see it. So I guess I better stop this madness before I completely let my guard down.
However, I still think you’re the ultimate prototype of the man I’d prefer to walk the aisle with someday.
I wish you luck with your political endeavors.
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