Sad Eyes

image © Yoko Ono

You took a half day off from work to get your second student drivers permit from LTO (how pathetic does it sound?) this morning. The last time you got it was more than a decade ago after speeding around your birthplace with your father's motorcycle and humiliating yourself because you have no license and no helmet. Obtaining it again this morning was a successful mission, amid the undying red tapes and under-the-table dealings from other applicants and their fixer cohorts. This is something ordinary in your country, you thought. But at the end of the day you felt that this first day of October 2012 was something not very ordinary.

You were already inside the MRT, on your way to work Northbound at lunch time when the train stopped by at Ortigas Station. A familiar face printed on somebody else's bag stared and tried to steal your soul. That trademark sad eyes behind the round framed spectacles woke you from deep and slumbering thoughts. John Lennon is trying to convey a message silently and you felt the chill for reasons that you could not fathom.

The office work in the afternoon was good, you were able to proceed without much hassle and without a significant time wasted. The usual gab, the usual faces, the same old atmosphere not far from a simpleton's workplace on Monday. The usual how-was-your-weekend talks and some sci fi film recommendations just to make themselves sound cool. There's a new "kid" that needs another round of tutorial and informal training. The old routine of updating data, some delegations and passing of responsibilities that still needed another set of "guidance."

And of course, the same routine with a friend on the way home. And even if somebody bluffs to you that someone's sad because you're not around this morning, it surprised the shit out of you bringing you a great deal of happiness for a minute before crashing back to earth and realizing that it was all just an illusion. Still, the sad eyes of John Lennon trying to warn you about something is in your head.

And when you reached your destination in the evening, totally hungry and tired from a two-hour ride of jeepney, train, and bus, you saw again that familiar face while walking on the street, a face printed on some dweeb's shirt staring at you mysteriously and emphatically. Déjà vu. Mr Lennon spoke into your eyes: "I feel for you man" or just simply "Tsk tsk tsk." with a headshake. The reason (or the irrationality of it) still remains dancing like a firecracker inside your head and you thought you better shake it up by lighting a stick of Marlboro lite menthol instead.

"I know this is a sad day" you declare. But a meaningful day none the less.

Because you know you can't keep fooling yourself too much for so long.

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