1. The Park & The Bench
I took a bus and a bit of a trek to Tempe Heights Park to find this bench. It's not awfully far from my house, but I wouldn’t go there on a daily basis. I’ve been to this park twice in my whole life before today, and I’d say it’s a place that recalls my last summer. I first went there with my cousins during a birthday party. I can’t remember whose birthday it was, but at one point all the kids decided to walk to a park. I would consider this a tradition because we do this whenever we have family parties during the summer. That’s how I discovered Tempe Heights. I remember the sun still being out at 5 pm and getting all sweaty playing basketball with everyone. I remember my first half-court shot (on a court that was half its normal size), cheered and bragged to everyone about how I'm crazy at basketball. It was humid, but spending some quality time with my family made up for it. The second time I went to Tempe Heights was with two of my friends, one who I used to have shared feelings with and the other being his friend; I've now cut contact with the both of them. Two of us decided we wanted to learn tennis and the other one suggested that the park was a good place to play. I was a bit lost at first when we were trying to get there, but then everything became so familiar. Hours after some scrimmages, the three of us sat near a pond, right across from a bench. There, a beautiful willow tree stood drooping down the middle of the field. For some reason, it was the only image I had on my mind after him and I parted ways; so, this is why I chose to go back to Tempe Heights. Even though it’s only been a few months, I was curious to see how the park changed, especially with the seasons. The bench was made of wood and metal backings painted black. I could tell it was placed there a long time ago because of the old moss all over it. It was brown with different shades of green and yellow. I’m not sure, but I think it was from paint or from the photosynthesis of the plants behind it. It looks like a flimsy bench, compared to the metal, green ones that have inscription on it. Fortunately, it was very stable and quite comfy. If we placed it right side up, it would almost be as tall as me (I’m 4’11). There was some writing on the bench that I couldn’t make out, however it did look like marker was used to draw and write. From afar, it looks like it was camouflaged by the woods behind it. I was intrigued by its loneliness and its overlooking of the park, the lake, and the willow tree.
2. Sitting on the Wooden Bench
From the bench, I see the subtle rain drop ripples on the lake slowly forming by the second. In the middle of the lake stands a huge sprinkler; I see it as a mini fountain. If I stood right next to it, it would be half my size. Tall grass submerged on the left side of the lake were tan colored and most were bent. There were trees across the narrow trail in front of me, almost collapsing. It looked as if they were crouching down for the branches to dip in the water. They’re probably freezing cold in this weather. From the bench, I could see the wet, rocky trail in front of me getting stomped on by a big, white dog and its owner, who was an old lady. She looked healthy and active for her appearance, and I assume she and her dog have a good relationship because the dog wasn’t on a leash. It was nice and well-behaved; it wasn’t the type to bark at bystanders around them. The two came from a wooden bridge connecting the trail on the right side of the bench I sat on. It looked quite slippery from where I was, but there were still runners amidst the damp weather. What I favored so much about my bench was that you could see this willow tree, along with other trees nearby. It looks dead now as it had withered branches and all its leaves have fallen off, but it was dropping gracefully and full of life during the summer. On the bench, I could feel the water soaked on my bum and snot coming down my philtrum from the cold. I’m holding up the umbrella, balancing it on my head as I’m struggling to write and shade myself from the rain. With only the comfort of my oversized, cobalt blue hoodie and the migraine from my blue light glasses, I sat there with the emptiness of the side of the park, considering my last memories here. The blue sky turned grey, the school of red goldfish were now invisible in the lake, and leaves turned brown. The tranquility of this atmosphere gave me a sense of relief, in a way. I once thought I had everything because of a simple love I thought would last. I’m glad that I get to move on and experience a new era of myself; this meant letting go and embracing another version of me that I didn’t know existed. The fact that I thought I knew what I wanted in my life as well has shifted completely. Since then, I accepted the fact that not everything nor everyone will stay in your life, and changes are bound to happen. Change will change you, they say. That being said, I don’t know what I want in my life anymore. It’s hard to say what is best for me and my ultimate goals and desires in the near future. All I can say as of now is to live in the present and learn acceptance.
3. A Bench Dedicated to Me
If I were to dedicate a bench for myself, the inscription would say:
"Jan Katherine Abigail M. Buño
For our thought daughter, you will never leave our thoughts. We are proud to have loved you loudly. Rest easy, our princess.”
I like showing off my full name to those who aren’t aware of it. I find joy in their surprised and questionable reactions as it’s unusually long. Most Filipino people tend to have unreasonably long names; perhaps it has a sense of uniqueness, yet I could not tell you why. I was raised a princess, where I was taught how to dine properly, walk properly, and learn habitually. Though such lessons were engraved in my muscle memory and mind, I was lazy, unmotivated, and egoistic growing up. I was treated like a princess ever since I was brought back home from the incubator, as though the world revolved around me. This resulted to me neglecting all my responsibilities aside from “studying hard.” I grew up spoiled with high pride. Being labeled as “Princess Kate” by my immediate family became my trademark. Whether people find it good or bad, I will cherish that nickname forever. Besides that, I am the kind of woman who is always trapped in her head. I contemplate people’s emotions in my own time, casually reflecting on myself each day. Thus, I refer to myself as a “thought daughter.” I would want my bench to be placed in Second Beach, Vancouver, BC. During the summer, I would go there often with my family and take walks on the Seawall while chasing sunsets at 8:11 pm. It's a place where my family can visit occasionally while spending quality time together. It would make me feel as if I was still there, chasing sunsets with them again.
4. A Bench Dedicated to Her
I’d dedicate a bench to my aunt. She is known by the name, “Tatitz” in our family. The bench would be placed in the patio of our home in Manila, with all her plants and flowers as she was very fond of “her babies” and gardening. The inscription would say:
“Diosa “Tatitz” R. Mendoza
You were loved by many and will forever remain in our hearts.”
She was the one who raised me. My parents were always at work, I’d only spend time with them on the weekends. I hated her. Hate is a strong word that I use occasionally, but with the context of her; yes, I do hate her. I’ve hated her all my life, up until I was 12. Ever since I had a developed frontal lobe, I’ve despised this woman for being so hard on me. She’s been so strict with me and seemed to have favored her other nieces and nephews more than me. She gives off this aura: untouchable, hard-to-get, and someone who always gets what she wants. I was taught to learn new vocabulary during my free time, was spanked if I wasn't a prim and proper lady at the ripe age of 8, and that violence was the only form of discipline. I found those years of my life to be miserable and felt unsafe in the comfort of my own home. After leaving the Philippines, all I could speak about was how I finally achieved my long-life goal: freedom. I'm 18 in a couple of weeks and I now realized that she played a major role in my life. She's the reason why I am the way I am today. All my traits that society deems as good are all because of her. If she hadn’t been such a strict baby-sitter, i would have been a menace, rowdy and a bratty child growing up. Seeing her in a different light, she’s not the witch I claim her to be, after all. She's a fun, bubbly and outgoing person when she doesn’t have a whole child to take care of every 5 days per week. I look up to her because of her independence, the way she carries herself, and her incredible confidence. She gave me countless reasons to not be insecure, as she would not stop boosting my ego whenever she’d get the chance. Fortunately, she also kept me humble by always putting me in my place when I get too full of myself. She is one of the hardest working people I know, someone who I can get along with now, and some I miss dearly. I aspire to be her, and that is why I dedicate this bench to her.
5. Journal: A Trip Down Memory Lane
I slipped on my Asics rubber shoes, getting ready to relive every single memory made with him. It was pouring rain outside, cold and grey, yet I sucked it up. I took my umbrella and jaywalked to the bus stop right across from my house. I think I lost a few cents along the way. Somehow, I managed to pay the right fare and sat at the back right corner of the bus. ‘Sesame Syrup’ by Cigarettes After Sex was played through my broken Airpods, glitching as though part of the song. I was so deep in my train of thought that I almost missed my stop. I rarely stopped at Sutherland Ave. I think this was the second time, the first being during the summer finding my way to the same park. I was supposed to stop at William Ave to meet him halfway, but I got confused and stressed. I don’t remember the walk to the park being a small hike uphill. Was it the fact that he was holding my hand the whole time? Was it because he made time go by so fast that I didn’t even realize we were already there? It probably was because it was summer, the path was dry, and running was possible on that trail. It was brown and muddy, the worst kind of trail to hike on. My feet were soggy since I wore white rubber shoes with little openings on them. The pages of my notebook were decorated with littles droplets of rain and ruined my writing in blue pen. I found such beauty in that, so I kept walking. There were houses crowded in a bunch on the right side of the trail. They had pale-colored walls of pink, yellow and tan, and I saw the roofs of every single one of them. After around 10 more minutes, I finally spotted the playground slide that was quite distinguishable from afar. Coming out of the trail, I spotted the tennis court and the basketball court that was half its size. It was flooded, not like a little pond, but just enough to get the hem of my pants drenched. The court floors seemed different; they used to be emerald and bright, now it’s as if they were wooden floorboards that were moldy and covered with moss. My umbrella got caught on the wired doors of the fence. Then, I saw the bench; not my bench, but the bench I wanted to speak about. I was digging through the back drawer of my temporal lobe, almost losing balance. I was walking on wet mud covered entirely with dead leaves. Aside from the seasonal depression, that was another thing I hated about the transition from autumn to winter. Considering my last memories of Tempe Heights, it felt weirdly good to be back here; I was at peace. I was glad to be back.
6. A Poem & The Bench
I Like for You to Be Still by Pablo Neruda
I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent,
and you hear me from far away and my voice does not touch you.
It seems as though your eyes had flown away
and it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth.
As all things are filled with my soul
you emerge from the things, filled with my soul.
You are like my soul, a butterfly of dream,
and you are like the word Melancholy.
I like for you to be still, and you seem far away.
It sounds as though you were lamenting, a butterfly cooing like a
dove.
And you hear me from far away, and my voice does not reach you:
Let me come to be still in your silence.
And let me talk to you with your silence
that is bright as a lamp, simple as a ring.
You are like the night, with its stillness and constellations.
Your silence is that of a star, as remote and candid.
I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent,
distant and full of sorrow as though you had died.
One word then, one smile, is enough.
And I am happy, happy that it’s not true.
The poem, I Like for You to Be Still by Pablo Neruda, is about the appreciation of a loved one’s presence, although they feel absent. The speaker addresses the yearning of a lover who is with you yet still feels distant. “And let me talk to you with your silence.” The speaker conveys his lover’s stillness as something that brings him peace and calmness, which builds a stronger connection between the two. In a sense, the speaker expresses that their relationship is a simple intimacy; nothing more and nothing less. It seems as though the only thing they need is each other, and that their bond speaks beyond words. The poem captures the essence of love being something more powerful than communication. The silence pertained in the poem symbolizes the spiritual bond between the two, representing the concept of love exceeding words. The quote, “And you hear me from far away, and my voice does not reach you: Let me come to be still in your silence,” implies the speaker’s solitude in her presence. This reflects how actions and being present can speak louder than words. Their presence within one another holds much more value than words. The irony in this poem lies in the speaker’s conflicting emotions. The speaker appreciates the lover’s stillness, however desires for reassurance more than just her presence. “One word then, one smile, is enough.” The quote signifies how the speaker longs for reassurance, even if it’s just one word or one smile. He seems to prefer his lover’s silence and stillness, yet the distance between them evokes a feeling of sorrow and desperation. I chose this poem because I relate my past towards this, as well as the bench I wrote about. I sat on a bench that was quite old by the looks of it; this could embody themes of silence and presence. Like the silent lover in the poem, the bench is obviously present, yet it seems “absent” in a sense that it blends in with its surroundings. I wouldn’t have been able to see the bench from afar since a lot of tree branches hovered behind it. Seeing as it looked aged and worn, the bench quietly holds the weight of many stories, from the moment people sit on it. Thus, the poem reflects on the bench’s offered space to people for a moment of seclusion, peace, and a safe place to rest.
7. My Philosophy of Life
A personal philosophy helps us deal with our existential questions and allows us to find meaning in life. One of my philosophies in life is to value interpersonal relationships. I value my bond with my family, friends and my peers who hold a place in my life. By simply cherishing a connection with others, you are building community and benefiting your own mental and physical well-being as a whole. You have people to lean on when times get tough or when you want to celebrate those small life achievements and goals. Appreciating connections like these can strengthen your bond, trust and love for them. The poem, I Like for You to Be Still by Pablo Neruda, relates to my personal philosophy of cherishing each connection made. In the poem, it was expressed that the speaker cherishes his lover even though she seems absent. The speaker’s contentedness with their relationship demonstrates how her presence brings joy to him. The poem conveys the speaker’s self-awareness and contemplativeness in his decisions and emotions, as he knows what he truly wants in his relationship. Another personal philosophy I think about is to follow your own values, no matter how difficult they may seem. Your personal values may differ to societal trends and standards. It is important to be self-aware and understand what grounds you and keeps you going so that you can live a life worth living. In comparison to the poem, the speaker’s contradictory emotions reflect on the philosophy. He appreciates the relationship between him and his beloved; however, he wishes for a little more within their bond. The speaker doesn’t confront or complain because he values what their relationship offers already. He values the solitude and peace his lover’s presence brings him even though he would wish for more reassurance. All in all, I Like for You to Be Still corelates to my philosophy of life by reflecting on authenticity by following your own values and adoring your relationships.
8. A Park & Its Purpose
Parks are communal spaces that contribute to a person’s well-being, society’s environment, and community. These landscapes are found at every blink of an eye. It's a common ground and safe space for the youth to spend their free time, make friends, and practice active living. Children are allowed to let loose, have fun, and connect with others, especially when there’s a playground. They're not only for children, but for everyone in the community. It's a free space for activities such as running, walking, sports and helps improve one’s health and wellness. Environmentally, parks keep the balance between urban and rural life. Along with clean air, reduction of heat from city buildings, and helping support wildlife, these landscapes provide an escape from the hustle and bustle of the busy city life. Parks are also places where communities thrive. They're welcoming spaces where events may take place, which create a sense of belonging and connection. To me, parks are sanctuaries. They are spaces we go to when there’s a birthday party, or when my cousins and I get bored at home, or when I need to clear my headspace. They’re open spaces where you can be one with nature and connect with your inner child when you’re older. Parks help interconnect the environment with us human beings. Like at Tempe Heights, people get to practice their daily hobbies while improving their wellness with the sights of nature. Ultimately, parks help to stimulate our lifestyles with a secure environment hovering over us.
9. Self-Made Poems
It's Dead by Kate Buno
I’ll never be able to look
at a willow tree the same.
Your smile illustrated my every book
and all of them read your name.
Like a single clause,
my whole world spun.
Leaving it behind, as it was
is easier said than done.
253 days painted a new piece
worth all my tears, hopes and dreams.
The simple thought of it gave me peace
granted with yellow koi and teal streams.
Laying under the willow tree,
your head was heavy on my stomach.
I hoped it would be you and me
until stars were made possible to pluck.
Autumn came with the rain
and washed our footprints away.
As the wooden bench watched all the pain;
it foresaw a different ending, the look of dismay.
One look at the tree ahead, I took;
it is dead, withered and untamed.
One day, I'll be able to look
at willow trees the same.
The Last Prolonged Bell by Kate Buno
9:12 am
the sun tosses his covers away
9:15 am
swarming the corridors, painted navy and grey
10:25 am
the end of the final lesson
10:35 am
the depth of my dimple shone upon my expression
11:45 am
a scene captured in a lens glare
11:55 am
we’re halfway there
1:05 pm
mouths stuffed, with tear-drenched cheeks
1:45 pm
a rose-tainted glass future awaited in weeks
1:55 pm
senior year will be a time to tell
3:00 pm
i will miss the ringing of this prolonged bell
