Iskolar ng bayan.

I lower my head just so I could see the progress there is in the buildings being constructed along Commonwealth. Tiny holes on the thin sheet stuck on the fx’ window provide only a sort of broken view of the structures. There are X’s on their window panes. I think of the day the masking tapes will be removed only to bare someone sitting behind, ears covered and mouth kissing a small mike.

In the back of my head, strings of A float like dust in space. A five-digit number flashes before my eyes, the first two of which are two and eight. I remember the simplest questions reiterated perhaps so full of respect and even fear. Like why and how. Or how come. And then indefinite answers that only speak of faked ignorance and real indifference. Absence of clarity that almost makes me curse. Helplessness that still drives me mad.

The need to slip back to reality shakes my head and the thoughts I have, like the ones I’ve been telling my mom are making focus alien, are set aside until another moment of dullness presents itself. (Like now.) I open the door and as the hot air wipes off any coldness there is left on my cheeks, the start of another school day collects my heartaches to have them kept in the darkest corners of my mind.

I get home and skim through the 21^st. Even Agrava’s losing his personal drama. Suddenly, I forget the sleepiness that has been killing me since 3:30. The facts stare at me in the face. These smart people write about them and say what’s to say. I read on to watch a rotten system being dissected. I don’t feel any better.

And those three words. It’s as if they’re losing meaning.