Connection.

It’s funny that people connect through unexpected events.

I could have seen your sister at MRT’s Buendia station. You could have seen me in the mall searching through bookshelves, finding the latest FHM Magazine or those magazines that had my interest. Or maybe while walking through the streets of your university, or worse – you could have seen me dating with a girl at Starbucks Katipunan. These events were all unexpected, all random. And so the list goes on. You could have met my eyes while I’m furiously walking away from my girlfriend. Your family’s textile business could have made this bedsheet I’m currently using. Connecting with people is such a pre-destined job by our fate.

C’mon, this isn’t a Nokia commercial where you would soon see their catchy motto: Connecting people.

It’s a mere twist of fate. Well, these connections were established not just by seeing each other. By unintentionally watching the movie you watched yesterday at the same moviehouse is a connection between you and me. Or maybe, we shared a space in the same jeepney one foggy Saturday night. You might have borrowed the book I borrowed before at the library (but honestly speaking, I don’t borrow books at the library) and have seen a strand of hair; you wonder.

Who owns this shit?

Yesterday’s a dinner at the Garage (if you have read my previous post, it is a local carinderia situated along the filthy eskinitas of Bocaue. Technically, it is named after its location – a house garage) and I could say that the food tastes great (I ordered their Sizzling Chicken Barbecue, by the way). At the middle of the conversation, one asked.

Kilala mo ba si Myla Mendoza?

Yup. The girl with braces. Of course, the industrious class treasurer who would always beg before her classmates just to pay the necessary fines: for being branded as ‘escaped’ in cleaning and those profit-gaining pranks. She was my classmate this year, and a classmate when I was in Second Year. This guy who asked about her is my friend, and apparently – there’s no way he’d know my classmate, except if he’s been doing some social services like the Census or something.

I asked him, paano mo nakilala si Myla Mendoza?

They were former clanmates. A clan, in a texter’s dictionary is a group of texters who would pester you by bombarding text messages even when your sleeping. My brother once joined a clan, the next thing I know – he changed his Sim card. Well, I never had the calling to join a clan. It’s also a melting pot of schools, of personalities, and of opinions – like the blogosphere.

Communication, nowadays were bought in a cheap price. One peso per text. Fifty pesos for five hours of Internet. Nonstop Internet Connection for 800 pesos a month. As to compare with the yesteryears of snail mails, or hiring messengers; it’s too cheap.

The people you know knowing each other is kinda surprising. In a certain swimming resort which I was invited by my kabarkada, I’ve seen my classmate wearing a bathing suit. They were cousins. The driver in my service ride knew my Dad because they were both alcoholic. Beer-addicts. And unfortunately, two of my ex-girlfriends knew each other and I could sense that they’ve been talking about me from the past weeks.

And right now, we are connected through a fiber-optic cable loaded with a specific Internet speed and identified with a unique IP Address. At last, you and me meeting electronically.

~ by utakgago on October 29, 2006.