chapter 09

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chapter 09
Goal is a Scary Thing

Everett

"I was lost," I admit.

"Buti na lang pala nakita kita," sabi niya. "Nakabili ka ba? Sa book store?"

Umiling ako. I sip the soup from my bowl carefully. The snow gets heavier so she suggests that we stay here in a small eatery for a while. We sit by the window. Walang masyadong tao pero may mahinang Christmas song ang tumutugtog.

I order Pares, a braised beef stew with fried rice, soup and lots of scallion. Olivia, meanwhile, orders goto.

"Ayaw ko 'yong bookstore, kaya wala rin akong nabili," sagot ko.

Sumubo ulit ako. It's delightful that this taste savory. Malinamnam ang beef at bago ang mga ginamit na gulay. Its heat warm my throat and stomach after standing in the cold for long.

"Hmm..." is all she says while stirring her food.

"I overheard that there's another bookstore here. Kaya pumunta ako, but I end up getting lost."

"Kung sa bagay, marami kasing tao ngayon dahil weekend. The tourist, I mean."

"Hinahanap ko 'yong isang bookstore. I was... disheartened—" That seems to be the most fitting word for it— "after seeing the state of books from the first one."

"Bakit?" she asks curiously, eyes on her food.

"Sira-sira na 'yong mga libro, makalat. Some are even wet. They weren't even categorized properly. Sobrang gulo. And as a writer... it's just so... disheartening. Ever writer pours their heart in every book that they write. Tapos ginaganon lang."

"'Yong mga iniingatan mo, binabasura lang ng iba," bulong niya. Its more to herself than me.

"Yes, like that."

"We exert our time and effort, our everything to produce a book. Tapos makikitang ginagano'n lang 'yong mga pinagpaguran mo—" I sigh— "They shouldn't be just book, or mere objects."

"You must've love writing so much." Her eyes raise to meet mine for a second, but I catch the glimpse of smile.

Huminto ako sa pagsubo sa sinabi niya. That's when the question strikes me. And when I realize that, despite the sleepless nights, headaches and trying to come up with words, I did. I must've love writing so much... in the past, and now....

"I guess, I do. Back then."

"How about now?"

How about now?

I try to search for answer as some upbeat song continues to play in the background, and Olivia's eyes are looking at me while I gaze at the Christmas tree outside. Flurries falls slowly, taking away every color of the world.

What made me love writing back then? It may sound ridiculous but it's so hard to look for the answer.

Is it because I find people interesting? I don't know anymore, because as I rise to popularity, I realize, that the very reason why I dream of this starts to blur away. As the trend starts to rule the industry, I don't have a choice but to follow the demand if I want to make a name in the industry. O wala nga ba talaga? Is it the fear of being unknown then?

"People are interesting. Their stories," I answer. "That's one thing that I like. And it's an escape for me. But..."

"But?"

"But with the path that I'm taking, I don't know if I can still love it as much."

Sa huling tatlong sinulat ko, hindi ko pa rin maisip kung ako ba talaga ang nagsulat no'n. It's something that I never imagine myself writing. Hindi ko alam kung paano isulat, o kung dapat pa bang isulat. I remember being rush to the hospital due to fatigue for staying up for three days, trying to come up with words but I just couldn't. Why? Because it's a torture to force yourself to produce something you don't want.

Ah, maybe this is just a phase. Perhaps, every writer goes through this to be popular. I thought to myself.

What a load of crap.

Follow the trend, write what people wants, that's how you become popular. I want to laugh at myself for believing in that crap. And I'm realizing, foolishly admitting, that it's actually right. It did lead me to where I stand today. And lead me to what I feel.

Sa lahat ng librong naisulat ko, tingin ko nagawa ko naman ang gusto kong gawin. I manage to stay true to what I truly want to write until recently. But through those, I was able to rise to fame.

And now that I had it checked on my list, I am lost on what to do next. What would be the new purpose of writing for me?

After achieving your goal, what comes next?

Napabalik ako nang marinig ang mahinang buntong ni Olivia. Lumipat sa kaniya ang tingin ko.

"Ang saya siguro kapag alam mo kung anong gusto mong gawin, at... at nagagawa mo." Caressing her elbow, she continues, "I want to be a barista then."

"And now?"

"I just want revenge then," she adds. "Now... I don't know what I could still do." Bumaba sa pagkain ang tingin niya. "To feel alive, I mean," she whispers.

Now I'm realizing something, "Goal is a scary thing." Her eyelids flutter, as if she wants to glance at me but couldn't. "When we achieve it and don't have the will to dream again... what do we do?"

We just feel empty, dazed and lost in a labyrinth.

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