A friend suddenly surfaces, claiming he'd been an assassin. He wrote me a letter just in time for the Holy Week. He said he's out of the race now. He doesn't want to kill anymore. Or, he says, he gave up murder as a way of life. Whichever, here's my friend's Easter Sunday missive.
        
        
Kwackie Pare,
        
Kumusta ka na. It's been a long time. A lot of things happened already since we dropped out of college. Until now, I still begrudge that son-of-a-gun sikyo way back in that stupid campus. Hangtud karon, I still keep this deep scar on my forehead. Balita nako, he's head of security na kuno.
        
I still wonder why kadto pang mga ultimo ang mangusog. Wa man unta silay makuha from beating us, students, to death. Di man sad unta maila ang eskwelahan. They don't get a share of the school's profit each time they bang our heads with their guns. I have the feeling it's actually the little people who are tyrants. Not the rich and powerful ones. While it's true that they have the money to move things around, kadto mang mga ultimo ang mo-implement whatever they want. It's the people as ordinary as us who do the beating themselves.
        
So, pareng Kwaknit, you knew very well where I was heading to since I disappeared without trace at that time. I've been around, but I chose to be invisible. I know very much what have become of the other guys.
        
I feel quite frustrated seeing friends who used to be so vocal, anti-Establishment pa raw, but who have metamorphosed into the colossal corporate a-holes. I even heard si Pareng Tikyo now works as a real estate broker. Goodness, I can't imagine that rag dolled up like a World Bank Executive or an IMF rep.
        
I also heard, kadtong hungry young poet nga atong gianggaan og Ka Bitok, is now campaign manager for a candidate nga rightist og leanings. Intawn, naunsa na man? Columbus was indeed right. Lingin gyud diay ang kalibutan.
        
But you know what, while I still do care, I think I need to do a little rearranging recently. That's why I write you this letter. It had to be you. We're made in the image and likeness of each other, except that you chose to be visible.
        
As I've said, I've come a long way. I saw how education can get in the way of things. Malipayon unta ko karong nagsigeg tagay sa eskina sa Sambag. Or, perhaps, be a medical representative cruising in some sleek car all the way with the latest catch. I could not have broken up with a girlfriend who was a landlord's daughter. Last I heard, she got married with the school organ's literary editor. Nabihag siya sa poetry nga "blue sea, blue sky." Unsaon man, we were writing poems that blurred the border between literature and propaganda. Kulang na lang, isulat sa placard. We were simply not the preppy colegiala's cup of tea.
        
I'd like to blame things to that one stupid circumstance when I picked up that Renato Constantino book among other things in that bargain tome at Music House. Wish I could have eyed alone that Mad's Spy vs. Spy Special Issue. Then I could just have gone through life solely with laughter.
        
I feigned a little seriousness while reading that book only to discover in the end that it got into my head like hell. Sakal ang amats, pre. And then there was the Joma book you lent me. And then there was Greene. Tang 'na, until the quicksand's well under my chin.
        
But I still remember, quite fondly still, that little celebration we had in your house after that historic kick by the Salonga senate on the US Military Bases. My, that was the first time we got Tikyo into drinking beer. In the process, he finally liberated himself into pouring his heart out to Tikya. But then how short-lived was the jubilation. We knew that was hardly any victory yet. Sooner or later, there will be politicians whose penchant for bootlicking will work things out for Uncle Sam.
        
        We saw how that guy Gordon fought for the retention of the bases. And we can see now how he reaped the harvest of things he didn't sow. He's been bragging about the miracle called Subic.

        So, pare, let's get together sometime. Adto gyapon sa karaang tagayanan. Do you still go there? Let's have the usual beer and platitong mani. Let's talk about social issues. Who's your candidate, er, did you get yourself registered? I have a lot of things to tell you. One would be about an exotic cuisine I learned in the mountains. Another would be about my unrequited love for a topless lass deep in the Sagadas.
        
        So, pare, visions and revisions as usual.