Tornado

Yesterday: Possible tornado hits Atlanta. (The week before, a close female friend came out to me.) That’s how the caption on CNN said it. Possible—as in probable but uncertain. The evidence led to such a conclusion, yet we hold back, afraid of being wrong, more so for being right. Maybe it was the honorable thing to do: to leave the cause of shattered windows, collapsed buildings, (unrealized love), to merely a hypothesis. The best political team on television relays only arguable opinions anyway; why state fact now? And what does politics have to do w/ weather? Or children hurt? Or the possibility of lives lost?

One injury is life threatening, read another caption. A scale to suffering inferred. One life is threatened; death is (thankfully) uncertain: Konswelo de bobo. Hundreds w/ injuries. Only 1 could die. The odds are good, or so we rationalize in times of distress. Hundreds w/ injuries, grimacing in pain from that piece of glass in a shin, that deep cut behind the neck because of swirling debris. Hospitals working double-time, no life left behind, especially that 1 that could die—he needs all the attention possible. The world plays the game of mathematics: 1 is better than 99; 100 is perfect. One-hundred screaming in pain, houses & workplaces in shambles, but only 1 could’ve died. He’s lying on a hospital bed now, not thinking about anyone but himself, eying the steady drops from dextrose bottles w/ family nearby, holding on to the rail of a hospital bed we might as well use as a metaphor for hope. (“No, I’m not mad. In fact, I’m proud of you.” I said this & I meant it. But…) They’re not thinking of 99 others, 99 families. In the future, they will say that they thought about the others, prayed for them as well. Today, they think of no 1. One injury is life threatening, reads the caption in a private room of an Atlanta hospital. A father whose daughter looks to be discharged the following morning smiles, Who cares?

CNN Center hit. News people become the news in their own network. The core of the network ruffled by swirling winds, but the show must go on, so might as well make the network the show. At least for a little while. Everyone pulls for the victim. Everyone needs to play that card sometimes. Just to make sure people care. Cuz when you’re hit at the center—your core—you begin to question. (Life is a lie.) Funny thing about people caring: you never know if they really do. Why should you believe after discovering things about them so late in the game? But this game is political, isn’t it? (“I’m proud of you. I really am.”) You’re over-questioning, I hear people saying. I hide behind a notion: the center was hit.

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March 14: Happy Birthday to Mom! Happy Birthday to Ma'am Rica's mom (How I know these things is beyond me)! Happy Birthday to Wyatt!

Shocking: While April was being productive working on her Modern Poetry paper, I decided to be productive in my own way by opening my 3rd email account (for professional use that people tell me will come after I get my diploma & find a job) as well as my 1st ever (Finally! others say) Multiply account: mvvillanueva.multiply.com. Not that I'm much for taking photos but I might as well make my presence felt in such venues. Don't worry: I won't go all Facebook on you guys. And apparently I do have a Shelfari account but its emptiness speaks of how much I've bothered to care about the damn thing.

Oscar moment: Would like to thank the committee behind the Loyola Schools Awards for the Arts—Sir DM, Sir Larry, Ma’am Rica, etc. Would like to congratulate my fellow winners for CW—Chua, Robles, Tabinas. Would also like to congratulate friends in the other categories—Liana, Cindy, Marcee, etc. Thanks to April (of course), Marie, Panch, & Aga for showing up at the ceremony. (Pleasantly surprised to see Ma’am Susan Lara as well.) Ba’t di ganito yung Palanca? (Hahaha.)

Stage right (L-R): Marcee Lacap (Music), Aaron Roselo (Graphic Design), Cindy Custodio (Music), Martin Villanueva (Creative Writing), Jason Tabinas (Creative Writing), Andrew Robles (Creative Writing). Photo courtesy of Cindy.