“He stared outside his car window.  The weather muggy, the landscape grey.  What’s scares him more than anything is the sound of monotony.  The motions too familiar.  He stood off stage and panicked.  Not because of stage fright.  Not because of having to prove anything to anyone- which was rare (he always feels he has something to prove).  He panicked because he felt empty.  Like he had given it all for years.  He craved to get lost in a world he didn’t know- a world that didn’t know him.  Perhaps he had forgotten how.  When he has the urge to do just that, a reasoning occurs.  A reasoning of fear, laziness, a lack of forgiveness.  When was the last time he had felt he had more than the constant haze.  It is a tug of war of depression and resisting just that.  If he could cry a river- he would.  That’s been blocked a long time ago.  Maybe not even blocked, but had just lost the triggers to allow for it.  He felt on top at eighteen.  Could that promise be captured again or is that pure delusion?”

To re-write this story- the following would have happened.  He would have a wonderful father who tempted his mother.  There would be no violence or weapons in the house.  There would only be good nights of dinners and the house would feel warm and bright all the time.  There would be no demand from excellence.  Doing his best would be enough.  There would be no coming in between fights, semi strangling and seeing bruises (the huge ones).  There would be no sexual confusion.  There would be no temptation, no evil from 13 up.  It would be a simple Manila upbringing- with school, friends, college, a regular job, a relationship and onward.  It would be that.  I could go back and settle for that.  “


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