The Mail Box

[sweet vixen]

My Dearest Napoleon,

 

Let me write to you without the inspiration of Jane Austen. After all, we know each other too well to be conscious of maintaining impressions. Let me scribble to you intelligent doodles instead, as I have always done before, without the need for words or images, but of lines and dots that always come out significant, anyhow.

 

This is a historic moment, for I shall speak of hidden truths whose question of veracity caused disturbances of cosmic proportions. A thousand and one breaths after the stench has shifted from the rotten dark allies of Quipao to the chaotic, piss-drenched pavements of Manhattan, here I am, about to come out with the archives I have so faithfully kept. It is difficult for me to not be faithful. It is a curse I willingly accepted when I learned the agonizing truth that I am such and can never be something less than too much.

 

Truth is, I could have fought for my then-occuppied slot. I could have hanged on and conquered territories with you. I could have led the army alongside you, as you always asked me to, and command with grace, as you command with fierce dedication and severe courage. You always loved the contrast between us, and appreciated that though our approaches are different, we always end up with more or less the same number of bows and arrows. You claimed it was a perfect balance for two pillars to sustain the entire structure. The essence why the Almight in His supreme wisdom created man, male and female. Frankness and Subtlety. Scowls and Smiles. Brutality and Diplomacy. Masculinity and Finesse. Both lethal. Both fatal. Perfectly brought together to imprison and free. Why didn't I join you as you pushed for the vision you have been brought up to accomplish? Why didn't I honor your petition to wait by the gates until I see the sergeant running with the news that I was to hear?

 

Truth is, it was not a simple decision to arrive at. You father held his chest when I declined. And your grandfathers before you could have tossed in their graves at the Libingan ng mga Bayani, for all I know. My ancestors may have hovered over the Great Wall looking for a step to start the fall from, hoping they'd break their non-existent necks. I disappointed the conquest we carefully mapped out. For that I am terribly sorry. Yet, I rgeret not.

 

Today, as we are once again given the chance to exchange monos that only those of our mertle can decode, I disappoint you, yet again, with the confession that I have actually decided to take a different approach, but still the same, unfortunately. Darling of centuries old, I cannot be conformed to any one's expectations. It is a natural reaction of my being to try to struggle and break free and go the opposite direction.

 

I am extremely proud of the feathers you adorned your hat with. One day I shall find myself where you are and I will have to bow and kiss the ground you walk on. No one can surpass you. But I make the same decision as I did before. May your father forgive me but I refuse to be confined to the role you wish me to play. I refuse to utter another s'il vous plait over supper of wine and silverwares. I shall wear my suit with dignity, even if I do not bear your name.

 

I know we are going the same direction. We shall see each other there in the years to come. By then you would have gained for yourself a few spots in bookshelves. From electronic pages to papyrus, your name shall be found and recognized for the contribution of making the country deserving of a name other than that derived from a foreign king. You would have won stripes and honored with keys from Amsterdam, to Brussels, to Cairo, to Jerusalem, to Venice. You would have soiled your boots and even your hand, and you will not wipe them off but show your children the pride of treading dangerous soils and quicksands, daring even the salt to freeze the fire.

 

Truth is, I would have loved to be there with you. I know I shall, by that time, have made my mark in the field we have been talking about since a decade ago. I would have earned a seal for myself, honored with hanging insignias, for having created the revolution I would have started right about now. (That is on its way, let me assure you, after being put on hold to make time for the greater task of ensuring that we do our responsibility to the world.)

 

Now, here we are, spared just a brief moment to reconnect but not rekindle. To talk, but not speak.

 

I am sorry. I cannot. We both wish to do this well. We both want the revolution. We will get there, though separately. On the way, we may swerve, change roads, alter maps. We may find ourselves together at some crossroads, in the same battlefield. But as with today, we must go our separate ways and see each other when the appointed time comes. I cannot distract you. You cannot distract me.

 

On a lighter note, may I inform you that I am subjecting myself to some humbling exercise of trying to be a little less than myself in order for me to die and pick myself up again. Unless a seed falls to the ground and dies, it will not grow to its fullest potential. Let me do this. I share spare you the details for I know you will, again, disagree. Thing is, I do not really care of what the other thinks for I am cemented in my security. I know myself and misconceptions cannot shatter my trust in what I know. My faith moves mountains, remember? You have seen that.

 

I shall write you again, when I can, before the day you fly back to where you shall continue to lay the scaffolds for the structure you shall erect (which I was to be a part of, but no more.) Let me assure you that I have already laid the foundation of the structure I carefully engineered. The blue print is still where we left it. Hidden until the time it must be revealed.

 

Regards to your great father. I read about him all the time. His garndchildren will be prud of him, as you are.

 

I remain proud of you.

 

 

I sign this with my own hand.

[LostCommand]

(On this hour, on this day. Re-issuing)

Edited January 21, 2007 by LostCommand

[chipmaker]

oi!

 

kung may problema kayong dalawa, o tatlo, o kung ilan man kayo, wag nyo na kong idamay.

 

nananahimik na ko dito.

Edited January 8, 2007 by chipmaker

[Wyld]

 

You. Yep you.

 

If you dont want to get burnt, singed or marked in any way by events that are happening to ME... then butt out.

 

Butting out means not taking sides.

 

Butting out means just that - no involvement. No judgment calls.

 

N O T H I N G.

 

Get that?

 

Yuure still doing it ... saying one thing and doing another.

 

Perhaps it would help to get real.

 

For a change.

 

-W

[chipmaker]

they say assuming makes an ass out of you and me.

 

funny... the only ass i see around here is you!

 

Edited January 9, 2007 by chipmaker

[Wyld]

GROW UP.

 

You always start things but .... lose steam just when things get interesting...

 

They say bailing out is the mark of a ...

 

Oh well whatever.

 

[chipmaker]

talaga lang ha...

[Wyld]

It comes full circle. A little earlier than scheduled.

 

They say its best to turn the other cheek. Thats what im going to do henceforth.

 

Ive finally discerned that how I saw you at the start was all along, correct.

 

Im sure in your heart and mind you know what I mean.

 

Finito.

 

[chiquezee]

Hey. The smell of antiseptic irritates my nose. Just thought you guys there should know.

 

Your lengthy message brought relief.

Your lengthy message also brought disappointment.

 

I was starting to think you were somehow trying to get lost. The question you raised shows that you were actually performing well, in my absence, and doing what I will had I been there. But, dearie, when you bring a problem to me, you should offer me your suggested solutions, too, so that first, you get to show me that you are indeed weighing the situation with proper judgement; second, so you can harness your capability to see predicaments through all available perspectives; and third, so you'd be able to act on these judgements with confidence because you yourself scrutinized the aorta of the heart. In the process, you sharpen your discernment, weighing matters objectively becomes an instinct and hopefully soon, you don’t need to ask me what to do but gain my trust that when you decide, I shall find confidence in your decision, and hear a report from you, rather than a query. Do not come to me without a solution again. You know I ALWAYS listen. Later on, I expect you to never come to me with a problem that you yourself can fix.

 

In a couple of months, I shall be traversing where, perhaps, you will deem too precarious. I will have to act on sheer impulse, coupled with better judgement, and of course, with guidance from a mentor whom I trust with my life. What I will do should not be seen as a haphazard reaction to circumstances. I have planned this long before. The timing just never seemed fit. Now, it is. I do not see the need for me to explain to you what I have in my mind, but I am bringing this up so you will be prepared.

 

Get out of your comfort zone, for how will you learn if you are sheltered in the confines of catenated cushions? Be your own and make your own paths. Make your own crossroads if that will help you exercise your judgment and deciding powers. Just do not forget to leave no dust behind, except those that you intend others to bite.

 

I see so much of Carlos in you that I know you'll go far. And since I have taken his place after his demise, I have the privilege of extracting from you what he extracted form me. But no, I do not see myself in you. Be that as it may, I still believe in my judgement that you will be able to breeze through this as I did before.

 

Remember that in our world which other people only perceive but never really fully grasp, within the chambers of hushed silence and denied facts, perfection is a must, but excellence is tolerated. And that is the only thing we tolerate. There is no room for mistakes, but there is always an allowance for improvement.

 

Sciolism will gain you a few steps and then none. You need to equip yourself with what is tangible and, if I may, what will explode when tampered with. We cannot accept duds. Keep what you know to yourself until the proper time of revelation because the privileged information we have are not for the consumption of the weak at heart, the ignorant, the coward, the passive, the apathetic, the pretentious assholes, and traitors. And the people that are chosen to receive the knowledge bestowed on us are hard to find.

 

Do not mind nor be affected by what others perceive of you but before that, you have to know yourself in order to gain a foothold of the camp. Then you can be firm in what you know and not be swayed by misconceptions, deceptions and ignorant insults. What they know or don't know will not change a fact. The fact is in your hands. The truth, you have to continue searching for. It is not yet within your grasp though I know you will get there. Be prepared so that the clay jar will not break upon the puring of new wine.

 

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;

many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.

 

- Mme. C

[transcience]

redemption is a word that has no meaning here. try as much as you want but your efforts will come to naught.

[Wyld]

 

Pretty words

All tied up in strings.

They look good

They sound good

 

Pretty words

All tied up in strings.

Does it have depth?

Does it have substance?

 

Pretty words

All tied up in strings.

Pretty words

All tied up in strings.

 

[chipmaker]

i didn't see that one coming.

 

if silence is all the response you're getting from me now, it's because i'm overwhelmed by the praise that i'm getting. we both know how this thing we're doing has been compared to what the US in doing in Iraq. we came in strong and hard; deposed the top guys and installed our own; got our people in and had them stay there 24/7. we patrol the lighted hallways like troops would in the middle of a baghdad neighborhood. pen and paper served as our weapons, conference rooms transformed into battlegrounds and spoken words as thick as bullets come flying in from both sides. and yet people still see what we've done as unfinished work. what you had for me was unexpected. totally unexpected.

 

i have nothing to say except for "maraming salamat".

[LostCommand]

Today, we close our books on the project. Rearguard maneuvers have all been fought and well, over the holidays, and are now completed. Official announcement to come out very soon. A great what-may-have-been, aborted in the womb. Now, this eagle exists only in our computer archives. Every bone, feather, and muscle complete in intense mathematical detail, but now forever consigned to be an immaterial electronic dream, never to take material substance, never to soar. We have lost this battle.

 

But we continue to fight the war. For we know no other existence.

 

Now tougher, smarter, faster, knowing of more styles, capable of assault from several new angles, and ever colder, we move on.

 

We leave this one behind. We had truly tried, as trained professionals top of our fields. But now, we leave this one behind.

 

There are other battles to be fought, in other countries, in other worlds.

 

We, of ourselves, are not finished of war.

 

Not today, at least.

 

We shall meet again.

 

LC

[LostCommand]

I saw the press release. Potah, how bland.

 

We just killed off a lot of dreams today. Can you word it better?

 

I'm drinking. 6 PM pronto. On top of the towers. Sunset.

 

Don't dare call me.

 

LC

[molina]

Dear Fellow,

 

Had I been more pathetic, I would claim I'm being seduced by your writing. I am more educated than that, though, even if I sometimes pretend to be among the half-bred because I have to. Politics is a world of pretense and I have a feeling you understand.

 

If I can suggest to the administrator, I'd say you should get a distinction. And to sound legitimate, I'd say you and this other guy who bleeds. The two of you, yes, who seem to be the only two at par, but what do I care about someone who wears the same jeans as I do?

 

But you, ah yes, you fine woman of unquestionable talent that appears to draw her thoughts from the deepest sanctum. Your writing tears me apart. Me and a host of other men who await your post after post. Men who feel a tiny bit of emptiness when they leave the board without catching a glimpse of your mind and heart.

 

You write beautifully. You write like someone who goes beyond boxes of formal training. Words spiraling, cascading, flowing. With so much emotion. Yet, you play with color expertly. Deciding to be subdued and calm in one, or fierce or even dispassionate the next. Such discipline I have not seen in many.

 

Do you mind if I say these without the usual flavor of propriety? I would think that a woman of your stature will be open-minded, being used to the drools of men who follow her every step, listen to her every word, strain to see her every move. You can dismiss me and I will not wince, after all, we are under the protection of anonymity. I will not care. Although I will appreciate it if you will spare a moment to give this trying-hard writer, but very good leader, some notice. Forgive the arrogance. I sometimes cannot help but speak the truth. We technicals can go for nothing but, although I appreciate the flavor of your art.

 

I cannot write as well as you, since I am more technically inclined than anything but I do know how to put my thoughts into words, if that is enough. I do not write with as much tremor as the other magnificent writer here but I do have the same ideas as he does, perhaps even experience, or more, if that will be acceptable. Not that I know your preferences in life, but being the rational man that I am, I can surmise that you go for no one less.

 

Is this ok?

 

 

- Molina