He was pensive and listless. The day being gloomy and rainy didn’t help. In fact, it made him melancholic.

Being a hermit by choice, he was not inclined to go anywhere. He felt that picking up the mail and pushing the trash bins for the roadside pickup were all the outside-the-house adventures that he had to do.

“The tires on my car must be flat by now,” he wondered as he steel-wooled the stubborn blue stains off the big plate that once held a huge blueberry pancake.

After the fork and the water glass were washed clean, he wiped his hands dry and moseyed down to his den.

With crossed hands cradling the back of his head, he stretched out on the salvaged-from-trash chair at his computer desk. His eyes were transfixed on a blank Word document on his computer monitor, hoping for words to magically pulse out of his fingertips.

“An anecdote, a story, or a musing this week would be nice,” he thought.

Since nothing entered his head, his gaze slowly turned toward the window. The new leaves in various degrees of unfurling being gently blown by the early spring breeze fascinated him.

Suddenly, his ears perked up as his desktop started playing his favorite classical music.

The haunting piece made him remember things about his past.

He knew that he was an Aquarian, being born on January 31st. Never mind that his birth certificate clearly stated that date, he still wondered whether he was born a second after midnight.

You see, people born in February in the Philippines are referred to as “kulang-kulang”.

“Kulang” in English means “incomplete”. As a phrase, “kulang-kulang”, is often used to tease someone who is nutty or someone with a loose screw. Somehow it fits him to a tee. To him, being a February child is an easier reason for his quirkiness.

In order to help remember the other moments, he tried to imagine himself being in black and white vignettes, scenarios, events, and pictures of what could have been. He hoped that by doing so, the true, significant flashbacks would materialize.

As he deeply immersed himself into the search, everything around him became a blur. The gurgling of the water, the humming of the aerator, and the “purring” of the pump in his aquarium disappeared. The only thing catching his attention were the blinking lights on his computer modem. They served as a timer, counting down the seconds.

Somehow, as if by sleight of hand, bits and pieces came to mind!

He began making a list of the incidents. He didn’t worry much about recent accounts thinking that they’d still be fresh.

“Yeah? You really believe that? You sometimes can’t remember what happened yesterday, much less a year ago,” he chuckled.

Armed with the list, he hoped to recreate the scenarios. He realized that there would be unaccounted periods, either by design or due to lack of memory. He knew that it would be tough furnishing the details, putting everything in chronological order, and mustering the creative energy to start and complete his personal narration.

Nevertheless, he was up for it. By chronicling his life, he felt that he would not have to think hard of how the events contributed to what he had become.

And, perhaps, he also would not have to ask why anymore.