There was a bombing incident at Glorietta 2, Makti last Friday.  Just this morning, there was a fire in Glorietta 4.  Whether these incidents are connected or not, I remember the hurt people - many innocent lives who had to be sacrificed just because of a selfish few.  And I remember Golden Monzon, a friend way back in college.

Golden was a victim of a ridiculous act - a grenade was thrown at his group while they were on their way home. One of them died, while Golden had to let go of an eye and his two legs.  That was a frustrating event for me because I saw how active Golden was.  He was an all-around athlete; a brilliant student; and a funny guy.  He was also good-looking.  Humility was not one of his best traits but I guess that's why I got stuck with his friendship - he was not a hypocrite. He was proud. We did a lot of smart and silly things together - even for just two semesters.

I have no idea anymore as to where he is, or how he is doing right now.  Maybe it is best for me not to look for him anymore.  I may just be another reminder of his past that he needs to forget.  A meeting with him might just open up those wounds that can never be healed, or rekindle the neverending "what if" question.  I decided long before that the last meeting I had with him at the hospital would end our connection.  I can never look at him in the eye.  It might just pain us both.

So, I'd just write here a poem I made for him (sometime in 1998-99)....

GOLDEN

Lightning flashed
the sky lit up
and the clouds began
to collide into each other.

The earth rumbled,
and the broad daylight
suddenly dimmed, putting off
the sun's strong rays.

Like a fire being
mellowed by water
the scorching heat of the earth
began to embrace everything - everyone.

The rain started to fall,
slowly at first, droplet by droplet
until they accumulated on the ground
and flooded all the floors.

The spattering of raindrops
went on unminded by
the strollers enjoying the rain -
the storm.

Then it destroyed homes,
families, and even lives.
It continued until the clouds
breathed their sighs.

The flood went knee-deep,
hurting your lower body parts.
The gushing wind
brought splinters to your eye.

But it's just a storm, you say.
As the rain and wind surrendered
from the moment of truth -
A Golden light peeps
through the dark clouds
in the sky.

******

That was a badly written poem, but that's how my emotions flowed through pen and paper when I thought of Golden.