How To Ride A 10-M Jeepney In Cebu City
Before I arrived at SM where I'd buy another pair of shoes that I'm barely gonna use but would still buy anyway just because I could, I had to endure the splendor and beauty of riding a 10-M. 10-M is the route of the jeepney you have to ride to reach SM, a mall. Jeepney is the no.1 means of transportation in Cebu, which is funny because you could barely trust it to get you to your destination without feeling you're about to get the last ride of your life. Anyway, Google the rest.
Ok so we have to also say here that it was raining hard. Like Katrina-hard. Deluge-ish even. But none of this could stop me from doing something I didn't really have to. So screw the rain.
And that's why I was doing the 10-M with people I could just simply say were pretty much obliged to ride it, too, because they need it for work or/and/without school which from where I'm at is pretty much what you'd be unwillingly doing to barely even eke out a living enough for your family to even know what lunch is. This is why we people should be prouder of ourselves.
What makes me even prouder is this: a kid did a "kadyon/kapyot" on the jeep's open-door end, hanging there, which only a slight careless or, worse, involuntary move could separate you from feeling life's cheery enforcement of torture or succumbing to the total absence of it like pure timeless bliss. Again, it was still raining hard. So hard I was beginning to think the passenger girls I was with were practically on tears, pardon the sexism. So anyway, this street kid (pardon my naivete and discrimination because from the looks of it I might really be better off calling these street kids as "things") started singing some carols which we're supposed to respond to by giving them what we think we wouldn't exactly immediately die without: some few peso coins in our pockets we didn't probably even notice were there in the first place.
Don't get me wrong: I'm as much for Science as the next Catholic guy is, which means I believe in what Science can give me to make me mothereffin high and happy in proportion to what religion can, too. But these past days I couldn't really say I'm still as into over Christmas as I was before somebody left me in the garbage truck so to speak. Part of it is also because I think you look better cool pretending not to believe in anything to appear Beatnik and spiteful of tradition, i.e. becoming unconventionally genius. But this kid/thing was just really trying too hard, you know? You don't exactly think we should just be ignoring him/it even for the effort, do you? The thing was really effortlessly trying so hard to get the money I'd probably just use to buy some cigarettes or better yet if I feel like it, to just throw away just for kicks. Besides, it's not like throwing away money doesn't make anyone of you happy.
So that's why I was like, Man, this thing or probably around 7-year-old kid that's all dripping wet must be really well-read and educated to become so insouciant of the basic business of living (like being bothered by ads like "Sneakers You Don't Really Need To Use Non-Postmodernly On Your Feet Sale" enough to accede to them) to just give it all up and start hitchhiking now like this under the heavy rain that even I a pensive rain-loving intelligent and well-deserving of all God could possibly imagine of giving without really being such an asshole about it, could possibly imagine of doing. And I who is very entitled to all the things kids like this thing right here who had the gall to even attempt of thinking (assuming all its synapses are still on its right place, which you don't really think it is, do you? How could you/it?) of hitchhiking in this jeep that I'm also being obliged to endure if I had to get the chance to buy the shoes that I know might even just make things around me just about less intolerably sad, things including the sight of this thing hitchhiking at the end and look out kid we're about to pass through a really deep sewage-clogged-caused flood nearby so you might want to cover your mouth unless it's your thing to drink it because hey it's not like I know what food is and what can make me nourished and what even nourishment means, right, right, right.
So I was like it, Fuck it. Here's P5 for you. And you don't even have to thank me or say that it's too much, because I'm not one of those people who value money over people, you know kid? I'm not like that at all even if what I'd be doing a few minutes after this piece of coin reaches your palm probably entirely contradicts it you know what I'm saying?
Ok so we have to also say here that it was raining hard. Like Katrina-hard. Deluge-ish even. But none of this could stop me from doing something I didn't really have to. So screw the rain.
And that's why I was doing the 10-M with people I could just simply say were pretty much obliged to ride it, too, because they need it for work or/and/without school which from where I'm at is pretty much what you'd be unwillingly doing to barely even eke out a living enough for your family to even know what lunch is. This is why we people should be prouder of ourselves.
What makes me even prouder is this: a kid did a "kadyon/kapyot" on the jeep's open-door end, hanging there, which only a slight careless or, worse, involuntary move could separate you from feeling life's cheery enforcement of torture or succumbing to the total absence of it like pure timeless bliss. Again, it was still raining hard. So hard I was beginning to think the passenger girls I was with were practically on tears, pardon the sexism. So anyway, this street kid (pardon my naivete and discrimination because from the looks of it I might really be better off calling these street kids as "things") started singing some carols which we're supposed to respond to by giving them what we think we wouldn't exactly immediately die without: some few peso coins in our pockets we didn't probably even notice were there in the first place.
Don't get me wrong: I'm as much for Science as the next Catholic guy is, which means I believe in what Science can give me to make me mothereffin high and happy in proportion to what religion can, too. But these past days I couldn't really say I'm still as into over Christmas as I was before somebody left me in the garbage truck so to speak. Part of it is also because I think you look better cool pretending not to believe in anything to appear Beatnik and spiteful of tradition, i.e. becoming unconventionally genius. But this kid/thing was just really trying too hard, you know? You don't exactly think we should just be ignoring him/it even for the effort, do you? The thing was really effortlessly trying so hard to get the money I'd probably just use to buy some cigarettes or better yet if I feel like it, to just throw away just for kicks. Besides, it's not like throwing away money doesn't make anyone of you happy.
So that's why I was like, Man, this thing or probably around 7-year-old kid that's all dripping wet must be really well-read and educated to become so insouciant of the basic business of living (like being bothered by ads like "Sneakers You Don't Really Need To Use Non-Postmodernly On Your Feet Sale" enough to accede to them) to just give it all up and start hitchhiking now like this under the heavy rain that even I a pensive rain-loving intelligent and well-deserving of all God could possibly imagine of giving without really being such an asshole about it, could possibly imagine of doing. And I who is very entitled to all the things kids like this thing right here who had the gall to even attempt of thinking (assuming all its synapses are still on its right place, which you don't really think it is, do you? How could you/it?) of hitchhiking in this jeep that I'm also being obliged to endure if I had to get the chance to buy the shoes that I know might even just make things around me just about less intolerably sad, things including the sight of this thing hitchhiking at the end and look out kid we're about to pass through a really deep sewage-clogged-caused flood nearby so you might want to cover your mouth unless it's your thing to drink it because hey it's not like I know what food is and what can make me nourished and what even nourishment means, right, right, right.
So I was like it, Fuck it. Here's P5 for you. And you don't even have to thank me or say that it's too much, because I'm not one of those people who value money over people, you know kid? I'm not like that at all even if what I'd be doing a few minutes after this piece of coin reaches your palm probably entirely contradicts it you know what I'm saying?
Labels: cebu city problems, David Foster Wallace
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