Talk loud, don\u2019t stop talking, always make sure you are in the social circle. They talk about how fat, unattractive, and how lonely the girl in the corner is.<\/p>\n
You\u2019re an introverted fuck, it doesn\u2019t sit well with all the lip bites and sa lahat sa mga sinasabi<\/em> that dip in plain gunk. Maybe it\u2019s because you don\u2019t fit in culturally with the real Filipinos. Country-hopping does that to anyone. Grab those habits\u2014tilt your chin up, make a loud, gruff sniff\u2014it will resonate with the other boys in your highschool. Sit long enough in shit, you get used to it. And sometimes, you start to share that same experience\u2014of getting close, of ignoring yourself.<\/p>\n Staying in the Philippines gives you a sense about who your role models are. Geckos, native beetles, and occasional Kingfishers, become a companion. The rainforest doesn\u2019t make you feel lonely. Your father doesn\u2019t visit often\u2014so you listen to the next closest man<\/em>\u2014your Nanay. Remember what was told, specifically from Nanay: wag ka mangago sa mga ibang babae.<\/em> Of course\u2014keep it close to your heart. But disregard that message completely when trying to gain admiration from your boys. Speak up more\u2014you\u2019re doing a lot better now\u2014keep that in mind as you wake up every day. Some of the grade levels below say you\u2019re a snob. It\u2019s maybe because you\u2019re a fucking kano.<\/em><\/p>\n Stand straight, back up\u2014don\u2019t forget to talk because the spit in your mouth might taint. That doesn\u2019t sit well with women. Putang-ina, bakit ba lahat ng mga babae dito ang pa-panget?<\/em> Nod in disapproval (they won\u2019t know). Friends show a video, specifically the scene where she has no control and seductively eyeballs the camera. Laugh, laugh hard, be loud and smile widely because they don\u2019t allow the inexpressive. A girl with lined eyes searching for an answer asks: ano pinapanood niyo, ha? All of the boys give a henpecked answer.<\/p>\n Behind the cafeteria line, cramped, humid\u2014a containing cell of sweat, oil, and broth. The walls are stained with hubris over a preschooler\u2019s mess. You\u2019re with them\u2014let the boys grab your ass, slap it, and pull their fake moans. Bring the food, Menudo and rice, remember to share it\u2014don\u2019t be a fucking prick. Make sure you are in the table\u2019s circle. You are inched a bit further from the table. One of the boys eye you, from head to waist, he unhands his fork and his hand in a fanning motion: get closer. You are part of the pack. Slide the chair as an honorary member. Talk about what happened the other day. Remember the girl who has a crush on you? Yeah, bring it up\u2014you wanted to because then the voting begins\u2014the more insults lean on the side of caution. Don\u2019t. Fucking. Look. Her. Way.<\/p>\n Every time you\u2019re home: it\u2019s exhaustion. Throw the backpack on the floor, remove the physics books\u2014they\u2019re thick like the beer bellies of your uncles. Hard wearing it on your back, maybe not physically, but mentally it tells you and the boys could never fit in the category of Rizal\u2019s intelligence. Nanay notices you looked more tired than usual. Ignore her. She wants to make you a ham and mayonnaise sandwich for the next day\u2014that\u2019s too fucking American\u2014you shout at her: all the fucking boys will throw that shit away from me. Her eyes weigh in (almost as if she was told this before). You apologize profusely.<\/p>\n Wake up in the morning like you\u2019re off to work. Blue uniform, all covered up, but it gets too hot in the classroom. Unbutton your polo, some of the other boys remove it and just have their wife-beaters on. A girl has her skirt too high up, teacher calls her out to bring it lower. Thirty-minute break, make sure\u2014but hurry\u2014and go to the restroom. It\u2019s unmaintained, you believe the janitor doesn\u2019t want to visit the boys\u2019 side. Pales on the side, water from the faucet is rusty and tastes like the used batteries you\u2019ll bury. Stall doors are open\u2014nobody cares if they can see your dick. Vape clouds and whatever drug that smells like glue. Take it all in. Find it amusing, you ask for the vape\u2014<\/p>\n Make them fucking hand it to you.<\/p>\n Take a smoke, no, take three\u2014three is a code for being solid. Kick and scrape the dirt-bottom of your soles like a bull, fluff your hair like a mane\u2014you\u2019re not fucking done yet\u2014stand against the unmanned mirror, take off the polo. Bodies of all sizes, the bigger they are the easier it is to be handled\u2014they touch you, you touch back.<\/p>\n You talk to one of your classmates outside of the restroom. He\u2019s not like the rest of the boys. His legs are usually closer together when standing, he does longer conversations with the girls, and he loves to sing (for passion). Black leather shoes are a lot cleaner than yours. Seems nicer\u2014his voice softer\u2014he smiles at you at times but you look away when you make eye contact. He wants to know what you listen to. Tell him it\u2019s more unconventional, alternative rock, electronic music\u2014not the goopy love songs you hear from OPM. Hand him an earpiece, he likes it\u2014but you shrug it off. There\u2019s a sense of someone watching you, like a father. Demand the earpiece back. He smiles, it\u2019s faint. You hear the next day he cries at the back of the school.<\/p>\n Be tired, be unassorted. If the teacher sees you awake and all energetic, they will single you: how well-behaved you are. Targeted. Crosshairs on your ass. Harass you until you\u2019re a man. Sleep in class, hide your face with the Intro to Physics cover page. Stay in the same corner and kick the girl out of her chair\u2014there it has an open window\u2014the guttering aircon\u2019s off so you need to breeze off with the shirtless boys. Get all sweaty with them. A standing, open-room sauna at the back of class. Their handkerchiefs act like fans, swinging back and forth, keeping the breeze at their face.<\/p>\n Remember the girl in the corner? Doesn\u2019t fucking matter now. She lost a lot of weight. Look at the girl again. Give her an eye. She\u2019s actually really pretty now, no\u2014she\u2019s ugly, unattractive, and lonely. Remember\u2014this is the girl in the corner.<\/p>\n Class presentation. It is a mixed group, your group presents it to the tenth grade. Whatever information you give about convergent plate boundaries is immediately forgettable. You sit next to one of the tenth-graders at the back\u2014his name was Carl\u2014he leans into his chair, legs like an open scissor, he reeks of cigarettes. How are the bars like in America? You tell him: I\u2019m not old enough. He laughs and says how easy it is to get girls here in the area\u2014you thought, it must be fun being eighteen in tenth grade. You laugh along with him.<\/p>\n Padre Garcia is beautiful at six. It\u2019s remote, it doesn\u2019t get much attention, but there\u2019s so much greenery, palm trees and mangos that it retracts away from whatever happens inside the classrooms. Waiting for the jeepney, the boy who loves to sing comes back to you, he pulls you aside. He\u2019s friends with the girl in the corner. Talk about her. Yeah, he\u2019s giving this deal as if he wants to convince you to hang out with him and the girl. You scoff. Tell him you\u2019re not interested. Bakit ka ba makikipaglambing sa mga tao di mo gusto? You\u2019re not trying to fucking get yourself into more shit, you still have the next year. That is the last time you\u2019ll talk to him.<\/p>\n The classroom was quiet the next day. You are looking around for the boys. They\u2019re also quiet. Makikipagchismis ka sa mga ibang usapan.<\/em> Something about a bar, a girl. You hear more, you listen carefully. Notice that the girl in the corner is missing. A lot of the girls in your class are hiding their faces, some dress a bit more conservatively.<\/p>\n It is break time. You walk to the restroom, the air is more transparent; hear one of the guys whispering as you enter: it\u2019s the fucking gay\u2019s fault. Of course there is talk about how a real man should\u2019ve been there. A name pierces the air: Carl. One of the boys mentions how they need to fuck up the tenth-graders. It becomes a plan.<\/p>\n The back of the school usually is a hangout spot for kids wanting to gossip, but in the later afternoons, it becomes a safe zone for smokers. It is undeveloped, with rainforest trees and a stream at the bottom. The school planned it to be an additional classroom, but you heard the funding was cut to focus on modifying the basketball court instead. The tenth-graders are loitering. Carl is there. A few boys and you pull up. One of the boys taps his sneaker on the cement wall, the dirt clinging on the sole falls off. Another removes his shirt and hangs it around his neck. A boy grabs Carl\u2019s collar, the fabric wants to tear, there was barking between the groups. You don\u2019t join in. The first fist is thrown, Carl falls onto the dirt mound, his head erupts in blood. He screams in pain\u2014it is over.<\/p>\n No one knows about what actually happened. All the boys, including yourself, in the eleventh grade become the week\u2019s conversation for the entire school. You are in your seat, reading your physics book. The other boys are at the back of the classroom, laughing and celebrating their silent win. The singing boy is talking, smiling to the girl in the corner\u2014but you still know her loneliness\u2014her fucking pain that comes from her hunched body. You don\u2019t want to be with boys. You don\u2019t want to be with a boy who sings. You can\u2019t talk to a girl in the corner who was fucking raped.<\/p>\n One of the boys approaches you. He is the one who punched Carl. He sits down, just like the tenth-grader, and while all of them know he\u2019s a hero\u2014you know exactly like he\u2019s just like Carl. Let\u2019s drink later? He taps you on the shoulder with his knuckles. There\u2019s a decision you make, wanting to study more, just like Rizal. In that moment, you realize much of this small world, where boys continue to be boys: lahat ng mga mabuting lalaki ay nakatira lang sa isip.<\/em><\/p>\n Close the physics book, tap the plastic-wrapped cover. You stare at him, wag sana mawala ang tingin niya sayo,<\/em> and you say\u2014quietly: I can\u2019t, I have homework to do.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Sit long enough in shit, you get used to it. And sometimes, you start to share that same experience\u2014of getting close, of ignoring yourself.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":182,"featured_media":22353,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-21736","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","writer-bobby-morris"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21736","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/182"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=21736"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21736\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":22354,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21736\/revisions\/22354"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/22353"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=21736"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=21736"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=21736"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}