Poisons Christmas is over! How could I have not given Trina the gift?

Worse, that it is supposed to be a gift for her birthday, not meant for Christmas. But I no longer care, it is past Christmas already.

I can recall, it was only a month ago, two days before her birthday, when I bought the gift but I was not able to give it to her. I then thought that it was okay, maybe I can give it by Christmas time, it would be the same, of the reason that I will be giving her the gift, because of the occasion, and not because of her -- and could it be without reason, nihil sine est ratione, thus, I do not think so.

But now, it is already a day before New Year's bisperas. It is no longer Christmas. I failed again, for the second time. But maybe, again, I can give it on New Year's eve, that is, tomorrow. Is it possible? -- c'est pas possible (Why try so hard with my poor French?), it is impossible. And what would be my reason? That it is New Year and that I am giving her a New Year's gift? Blah! That will be stupid. No one gives a New Year's gift, greetings maybe, but never gifts. Impossible!

The sight outside for the first time I failed to notice (How could I?). My gaze is focused on the gift sitting on the table's top. Its gift wrap has not been replaced since the time that I had it wrapped, when I first bought it, six months ago. Now visible are the blemishes, marks of the days of waiting, of the wear and tear, of my careless handling. But who would be careful? Me? Never!

I even have almost forgotten what's wrapped inside, if not for the receipt that I found crumpled inside the paper bag where the gift is kept. And what is the gift? It is something simple, not expensive, but it is beautiful, if one would see it, one would not know its secret -- and what is its secret? I bought for Trina a diamond necklace, but it is an imitation, not authentic, a fake. That is what the lady who sold the necklace told me -- an old woman. I could have never known -- if I saw someone wearing it, I will never know that it is just an imitation.The thought of the word imitation will not even come up. It looks so real, shining, glittering even, if hit by light.

The necklace was on sale at some old jewelry shop when I bought it. The old woman who sold it to me said it is a good imitation, no one will know (unless I tell). She said for P800 pesos I can have the necklace, and that the person who will receive it will be very happy. And so I bought it, had it wrapped, and now there it is, waiting on the table's top. Waiting for the right time and when will be the right time?. The time when I to give the gift to her. And tomorrow is the bisperas, and I am here by the window, just sitting, and again thinking.

But a note, something about the old woman or what she did:

The woman is old, in her late fifties. She owned and managed the jewelry shop where the gift was bought. Actually the diamond necklace was the last item on sale, for there were no other items, all were sold. And as the woman is already to close shop,that is, permanently, she was just waiting for the last item to be sold before she goes to retire go abroad, maybe? But she thought of something weird, about the last piece of jewelry. She planned to sell it for a very low price, but the jewelry, the diamond necklace, is genuine. But why sell it for a very low price, when it is an original? And why not. She had sold all of the jewelries except the diamond necklace and she had already enough money for her to live the remaining days of her life, so why bother with the diamond necklace. And yet there is a twist, the person who buys it first and intends to give the diamond necklace as a gift will not know that it is genuine. The person who buys it will be told that it is just an imitation. And why? Just for fun, maybe?

And back:

Who is Trina? Shall I describe her? Well, no one knows a woman except her man, they say, or I say. Am I her man? I don't think so. Does she even know me? Maybe.

She was my classmate, last semester, in Mr. Prito's class on Theory of Literature. Well, never did I enjoy literature (or a part of it) than in Mr.Prito's class. Foucault, Barthes, Gadamer, Iser, Wimsatt, Beardsley, Brooks, Lacan, Freud, Derrida, all the big names, and small(er) names, as well. Name them, we have them. I learned a lot. But also because Trina was in the same class, the more I enjoyed, but about her, I never learned that much.

I can only theorize, as I have been taught, to make assumptions -- but I did research -- more or less I had known that she came from a well to do family, does modelling, a student leader, a photographer, an artist--as she does plays, fluent in three languages (aside from the vernacular Visayan and Filipino). That she got to model for a famous clothing line, and that aside from taking photographs, she is, most if not all of the time (Am I exaggerating?) the model or subject of some of her fellow photographers' photos, their model: you can really tell that she is beautiful. And I can only recall what Lord Byron had written in his poem:

SHE walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that 's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impair'd the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o'er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!

This is how I describe her! But -- that no one knows a woman except her man -- I am not his man -- therefore I do not know her, that is, as my woman.

Again I am thinking!

Tomorrow is new years's bisperas, and when will I give her the gift? Tomorrow? But it may be too awkward. People are busy on a bisperas. I would not dare show up to their house, ring the doorbell, and look for her. Chances are, that she might not be there, that her family's out of town and that she came with them. Or that she is busy preparing and cannot meet any guest, visitor, suitor. Worst, that I am not sure if she remembers me still, worst, if she even knows me. What right do I have to come knocking (or ringing their doorbell, I don't know -- or that, if they even have a gate, even a fence) and ask for her, and just give her a present. You don't accept things

from strangers. Am I a stranger? Yes, that she does not know me personally and if ever she did, she must have forgotten. It was last semester that is, two months ago.

She could have only known me during that time when I gave an excellent recitation on Derrida, where my Mr. Prito praised me a lot and kept saying my name in front of the class, telling my classmates to follow my lead and study hard for every oral examination. She could have known me only by that time, by that moment, of that accidental gesture invoked by whatever goddess of fate there is. And she could have hated me then, I have heard that she does not like people who impress others for their own sake -- and that is what I am doing back then, implicitly, maybe? And she could have made the effort to forget me, get rid of me, to finish the semester and stay away from the likes of me.

So why will I bother come to her house, when she would not even receive me. Wait am I being fallacious? Will I still be able to give the gift?

It is getting now dark outside, and now I got to notice the view. Beautiful are the lights in the neighborhood, in all their colors and rythmic dances. Yes, they are made, born by the Christmas spirit, but they are soon to die in the new years passing. And yet they will be reborn, just like a phoenix. Weird metaphor. A phoenix? Huh! Am I like a phoenix? Not quite. I have not been reborn, and never will be, as far as philosophy would tell me that it is the soul that is immortal and not the body. But how will I know? I will just have to wait. But as far as I am concerned, I know that I will die. But then again, I have never been dead, and that I am not alive today because I have been resurrected. But how will I know? No, I am not a phoenix, and never will be. But, when it comes to love, am I already a phoenix? The more that I am not. That would be pretentious if not precarious. I have never been broken-hearted, that I will have to recover, resurrect my love, so that others may feel its heat. What is this that I am saying?

This is the first time that I felt this kind of feeling for someone. Is this love? I do not know. But one thing is for sure, that I am persistent. Despite all of my presumptions -- all negative -- I am still to give this gift to her. I have met her a semester ago and that I bought her a birthday gift, but turned out to be a Christmas gift, and now, as an object on my table's top, waiting for the next occassion where it is to be appropriately labelled, as a "---- gift."

Again, I am thinking. What am I up to? Maybe it's because of all this thinking that I fail -- of the two failed attempts -- I failed because I thought a lot -- but what was I thinking then?

Last semester ended happily (I got an A), but also with a melancholic twist as I had to say goodbye, though implicitly, to her. The semester's break was on and I did nothing special during

the break. This semester, I am taking a class that I am happy to be in, not because she is again my classmate, but because, the class next to our room, is where she is in. Nothing could be better, as she is not my classmate, still I get to see her.

I usually stay outside of the classroom (until the bell rings for the class to start) and wait for her to arrive, or sometimes, for her to enter their room, as she usually chats with her classmates outside their classroom. I never fail to notice her. The last time I almost got marked absent as I failed to hear the bell ring, and that she already went inside her classroom, and I was still outside, my gaze following her. All my classmates were already in the room and the professor already started calling the attendance. But a classmate got my attention and called me to get in.

For days I have been doing this and it became habitual, (or is it not a vice?). What is weird is that she never noticed, or I thought that she never noticed, she is the same as always, doing what she has to do, except for a single absence, all was the same and routinary.

It is this mindlessness of hers that got me all excited as I thought, and I thought weirdly, that the reason why she does not mind me looking at her is because she likes me. I thought that she notices me, and it is okay for me to look at her. Worst is, I thought that she is just waiting for me to approach her and ask her permission to court her. This is what I thought, and I have kept this thought until now. And it is this thought, this weird thought, that prompted me to court her, to start courting her. And I thought to start my courtship by giving her a gift.

Two weeks had passed since the start of the semester, and I heard (overheard) that two days from then would be her birthday. And I saw it as an opportunity for me to give her a gift and tell her of my plan to court her. So I bought a gift, the diamond necklace, the imitation. I had it wrapped and waited for her birthday to come. I am all ready and set, but it was the day before her birthday that the thought came to me thus stopped me from giving the gift. And it was like a ghost that haunted me the whole day, as I was trying to fight it, arguing against it, convincing myself that it was okay to give the gift and that there is nothing to worry about.

These words came to my head a day before I decided to give the gift; and these are of the French philosopher Derrida:

"For there to be a gift, il faut that the donee not give back, amortize, reimburse, acquit himself, enter into a contract, and that he never have contracted a debt."

Philosophy is bullshit, really.

It was one of Mr. Prito's lecture that I first heard of this philosophy on the gift. I could not go into a full detail but I was worried for myself and the impression that she would have had of me if ever I gave her the gift.

And what would be the reason you ask?

That during that semester when I was taking the course under Mr. Prito the theory impressed me so much that I went to study all the possibilities of the theory and made an impression to the class that I am dedicating myself to this philosophy and that never will I give or accept a gift from anyone, because the gift is impossible, it is self contradicting, and that I would not want to put someone in debt nor I would want to incur a debt because of gift giving-receiving.

I understood very well the theory that when Mr. Lorenzo gave an oral exam on the topic, I volunteered to go first and even aced the exam. He was so impressed by me then that he kept mentioning my name in front of the class. I was not ashamed then, even though in the faces of my classmates are those gestures that are somewhat humiliated and disgusted. I need not mention why.

Never will I give or receive a gift...but now?

How could I have forgotten?

I already bought the gift and that I spent P800 for it. I should give the necklace to her, all my efforts would not be worth cancelling.

But then if I pursue my plan, what will she think of me? I am quite sure that she has not forgotten those impressions that I had made...not to give and receive gifts...huh!

So what then. She surely will think ill of me, having not a word of honor, a humbug -- trying to mislead the class into thinking that I am a philosopher in the Derridean fashion, but that I am

only lying, undedicated, inauthentic. Ouch! Maybe there will never be a next time that I will be able to confront her, thus court her.

To give the gift is to prologue my own disaster.

What am I to do then? Not to give the gift. Yes I did not give the gift. On her birthday I failed to give the gift, because of Derrida.

I am thinking too much, tomorrow is bisperas and here I am still sitting by the window.

But what kind of person am I? Did I really say those things in class, my dedication to the Derridean philosophy on the gift, just to impress the class?

No. Not quite. It was authentic (then).

But no (maybe).

Yes I was just trying to impress the class. Who would not want to impress a class and the teacher in order to receive good grades? Yeah.

But let me justify myself (on the gift -- and why I could not keep the philosophy to this day):

Derrida is stupid. Assuming that I am to contract a debt or put someone in debt -- by receiving or giving someone a gift -- have not Derrida thought that it could be worse if a person never receives a gift in his entire life or that he has never given a gift, no matter how small? Would it not be worth the effort to philosophize first on the mystery of giving and receiving. People are able to give and receive that the idea of contracting a debt is never a priori in the chronological sense. And only it is at a certain point in the economy of gift giving, caused by some mysterious source, that this evil (for Derrida) of debt contracting comes up. It is not because of the act in itself -- the giving and receiving as such -- but some other aspect in mans nature, that because of this aspect, it causes to appear the debt concept. It is never the gift itself, never the gift. As I am able to give, irregardless of my intentions, still I am able to give. That I am able to receive, because I am able to receive, irregardless of my intentions.

Would it not be better if Derrida addresses this first.

Enough with this rationalizing. Is it not that I am already being stupid because of this love (if I could call it as such)? Maybe I am just trying to convince myself that I was never wrong on my part, by not giving her the gift. But I am wrong. Am I not?

Why was I not able to give it to her last Christmas?

Yes, I would admit, I am a selfish man. I was supposed to give the gift on the 23rd, when they were having their party at the university gym. It was supposed to be simple. Just give her the gift, tell her my feelings and my intention of courting her. It is with the assumption that during that time, she had forgotten of my pronouncement in class last semester, when we were still classmates. Or if not, that she could be too distracted (or I could have distracted her) to think about it. I could have accomplished all of that.

But then again I have not. Why? Because I am a selfish man. As I have always thought that she is this nice girl with a big heart, I know or I am assuming that Christmas means a lot to her. And that she belongs to this Christian/Catholic -- whatever -- youth group and that the party she was attending on that day was their campus based organization party and that they were having orphaned kids as guest, I know her mind is all focused on the activities of the party and that if ever I showed up, she is just to receive my gift for formalities sake, and that she would not take notice of my intentions. And even the very idea of the gift, she would take upon herself as an act due the tidings of the season and that it is because of the love and goodness of your savior that I am giving her the gift, in imitation of the savior's act, and not because of her, not because of her.

Bullshit! I am thinking too much. Am I crazy?

I am not crazy, I am just selfish. I want her attention for myseelf alone, and have her to think in my framework as someone who comes to her, in love, and ready to give her everything in exchange for her love. Shit. I am daydreaming. I am thinking too much again. And I failed to again give the gift.

But I am sure she would like me. I am not ugly. Am I handsome? I don't know, I fail to look at myself. Why am I like this?

But tomorrow is the bisperas, and if would still not be able to give the gift tomorrow -- when will I be able to give the gift again? Maybe I will just have to wait for her next birthday. But we will be graduating next year, and I heard (overheard) that she will be studying abroad, on a scholarship (lucky girl!). She might not celebrate her birthday here in the Philippines next year. Or maybe I will just send her the gift. What is the use? Long distance relationships don't work.

Am I assuming? No! I am dreaming.

But why not give it on an ordinary day, what difference is there if I give the gift on an ordinary day. There is no effect giving a gift on an ordinary day. The more I will be weirder in her presence giving her a gift without an occassion. She might think of me as crazy. But am I not yet crazy? Still, I do not want to look weird in front of her. I do not want to lessen my chance of her approval. The occassion will be my cover.

So tomorrow is the bisperas, and this night, what is the time? What it is already midnight. My I have been thinking to much. I have not even eaten my dinner. All of these because of love, or stupidity perhaps.

Still here sitting by the window, outside is the silence that haunts those who are awake. And so I must resolve this. Yes. Tomorrow is the day! I must stop thinking, I must eat and sleep. Is it not weird that the solution to my problem is the commitment to dare what is to be dared -- tomorrow. Who cares, this may be my last chance. I must eat....I will now sleep.

Tomorrow is another day and THE day.

But -- then again, I am thinking, as I lay on the bed -- will she like the gift? It's an imitation, the diamond necklace. I know diamonds are girls bestfriend, or is it just a hasty generalization. But who would not like diamonds, especially that its a gift, without obligation, owning them without having to spend. But this only holds for real diamonds. I am giving her an imitation.

Imitation, a lovely word substitute for fake. But fake is only applicable if there is the intention to deceive, but am I deceiving her? Or, am I going to tell her that these are just imitations?

But why would I do that. would it not make the impression that I am being insincere, that I am only giving her an imitation, that I would not even make the effort to give her a real one. I would be like a joke to her, giving her imitations. It could even be, considering that her family is of good standing, that she comes from a well to do family, that she has authentic diamond necklaces, better than the ones that I am giving her? Should I not tell her? But I will be deceiving her -- and what if she knows? Or what if she would not know -- what if others would tell her? I think no one would dare, she is too lovely, no one would humiliate her or insult her, telling her that she is wearing a fake diamond necklace.

Besides whatever she wears, her presence absorbs them and makes those that she wears as if they are part of her, they would always look real. But what if not? What if someone would insult her? I will be hurting her, not only once, but twice or even thrice, I will lie to her, she makes a fool of herself, and others make fun of her.

Will I still give her this gift?

I have already decided be that as it may, come what may tomorrow is the day! Off to sleep, it is one o'clock.

The next day:

Breakfast. Bath. Toothbrush. Dress. Leave the house at around ten. I woke up around eight. I slept last night at one o clock.

The gift I brought with me.

I am taking the taxi. I must not be covered with the pollution of the city as I am to face her. Must still be fresh, aircon fresh (sponsored by the taxi)...

I arrived around eleven, one hour ride to be exact. If you are wondering where I got the address, a friend gave it to me. Her house is easy to find, and my, it does have a gate and a doorbell (or a gatebell). I paid the driver, went out of the taxi.I approached the gate and rang the doorbell. After a few seconds a househelp opened the gate, she was young looking, though I am sure she is not underage, around 25 maybe. As I am to ask her if my girl (assuming) is around, weird is that she ushered me inside without confirming my identity or my purpose. And so I went in. Holding the

gift in my right hand I followed the househelp, I noticed that she was ushering me towards a crowd, and weirder still is that the crowd, most of them are wearing familiar faces, people from the university. Some are my classmates during the last semester, some are my classmates this semester, there are also faculties, and the others I do not recognize but some may be relatives, I do not really know.

I am now thinking that they might be having a party but it is quite a silent party if it is the case. I approached a classmate to ask why she is here, she spoke before I could even ask her,

"It's good that you are able to visit, how did you know of Trina's death?"

Death? Who is dead? I acted as if I did not hear her.

Trina, she is dead, did you not know?

Trina, Trina is dead, of course, of course I know, that is why I am here. To pay my respects.

I was trying so hard to hold on to myself and not to break down. But deep inside of me I know everything starts to break down. Fail. Epic fail.

Then she coached me,

why don't you come see her?

What? See what?

See her. -- she said. Oh yeah, yes, in a little while. Now why would I want to see her. See her yes, alive, not dead. God! This is crazy.

I would not court a corpse. Give a gift to someone who is dead. But yes, she would not mind, she would not even remember of that time where I spoke of not giving and receiving a gift. Her

attention now is undivided. She would no longer mind if the gift is authentic, an imitation, or fake. She no longer would not mind. She is dead. Dead. Dead.

But she is still beautiful. Lying in the casket, I remember Ulrike Gerbig in his poem, Death is a woman: (but here I would like to think that this woman is death, or literally,that this woman is dead)

In the face without masks Death is a woman In the moment you know yourself Death is a woman At the end of all questions Death is a woman As the well of all answers Death is a woman At the end of all regrets Death is a woman In the liberation through tears Death is a woman As the relief from battle Death is a woman In the loving embrace Death is a woman As the end of all pain Death is a woman As the return to the source Death is a woman In the dreamless sleep

Death is a woman In the endless peace Death is a woman

She is dead now. And what am I to do. I will just bid her farewell, and to my dreams of ever courting her, of giving her this gift in my hand. And of her ever approving of me, I do not know.

As I move away from the casket, I ask the person, an old man, his father maybe, I do not want to know, or cared to know any longer, what caused her death and when did she die, as I forgot to ask of all this details from my classmate earlier.

The old man said that yesterday her boyfriend and she had a quarrel and that they broke up. And while driving, on her way home, she was very disoriented and met an accident on the road. She failed to notice the incoming vehicle and then it hit her car, where she was then not wearing her seatbelt, she hit her head on the steering wheel causing a massive internal bleeding that caused her immediate dead. Death on arrival.

Who would have known it? Said the old man. She is supposed to get married after her graduation, maybe it was just her time. She had this relationship with his boyfriend since highschool.

Everything was clear to me now, but wait, bullshit! She had a boyfriend. And I did not even know. Wait why did I not even ask. Shit! Bullshit! I wasted all my time thinking of her, and she had a boyfriend. I almost got crazy (wait, I am crazy) and she had a boyfriend. Fail! Epic fail! I am now leaving this cursed place.

I walked out of the gate and still holding on to the gift I threw it on the trash can beside me. I do not care about the gift anymore. I do not care about my eight hundred pesos. I no longer care about my efforts.I do not care about the world. I will go to the mall to have lunch.

As I am about to enter the mall, I saw the old lady who sold me the diamond necklace. She asked if I was able to give the necklace and if the recipient liked it, and I said, and I lied, that she liked it very much, she almost died when she saw it (she is now dead).

Good, said the old lady, because those were real diamonds that are on the necklace, she added.

Are you joking? I said, how could they be real when you only sold them to me for a cheap P800?

Well, it was all a gimmick, I lied when I told you that it was just an imitation.

And as I saw on your face the excitement of buying the necklace, I knew then that it was for someone special. So I did not hesitate. I am happy that the person whom you gave the necklace is happy. If you have told her that those were not real, then tell her the story, for sure she would be much happier. And if all along she thought that those were real, then you should be happy and need not worry, indeed they are real.

At that very moment I just wanted to die, like Trina, and be with her somewhere up or down there. The old woman left, on her face was the smile of satisfaction. Me, a face that no one could ever describe.

Bullshit! Shit! Bullshit!

I am going home! No lunch. I just want to sleep. I never came looking for the necklace. Who cares. The person who ever gets to find it is lucky, he or she gets to be rewarded for all of my sufferings.

I am taking the jeepney. who cares about pollution. I hope the smoke would just kill me. No need to look fresh. I just want to look dead.

I got home. I slept.

I am awaken by the noise outside cheers and jeers. Oh yeah, it is new years eve. I checked the clock, it is already quarter to twelve. Huh, bisperas! I sat at the chair beside the window. Looking outside, my mind is a little bit clearer now, but still the feeling is there. I wish I will just have a breakdown so that when I wake up the next day, maybe my mind will repress everything -- but

then it might affect my personality, but who cares, my personality is already distorted -- but as of the moment, I am not having a breakdown.

I looked outside, the lights made born by the Christmas spirit are lit, in all their colors and rythmic dances. And I heard the people counting. 10, 9, 8, 7.... Happy new year! People shouted. Fireworks. Bangs and booms filled the air.

And what are they celebrating -- the coming of the new year? No! They are celebrating Christmas death -- just as the lights are to die with the Christmas spirits passing.

And how about me you may ask? I just wish that what I feel inside will pass, together with the tidings of the season.

And, oh, I remember the phoenix, yes, like the phoenix, that I am to rise from the ashes of despair and be able to live my life again -- resurrect -- to live for another day -- to love for another day.