“Do you the know difference between toward and towards?” I asked M. one night.
“I don’t know.” She stuck her cigarette out the car’s passenger window and let the draft shed the loose ashes.
“There’s no difference really. They’re interchangeable. Towards is just more British while toward is more American—Syet, there’s traffic up ahead!”
“Relax, it’s still early. Did you just find that out today?”
“But it’s fucking a waste of gas! Why doesn’t anyone fix the roads in this country--yeah, I just found out today. But, I also figured out how we can evolve the English language and make it more, you know, Filipino. You remember that essay about molding English into our own?”
“Maybe, that was a long time ago.”
“What do you think of towardz?”
“Sounds like a jologs sending a text message.”
“Well, that’s exactly why we should adapt it. It’s culturally accurate, in a way, since we’re supposedly in the ‘text-generation,’ and it’s a widely used form of spelling.” The traffic cleared after a few blocks. It turned out there was just a minor accident involving a motorcycle and a pickup. “I don’t get why they have to slow down when they pass it. It’s just a small scratch on the backside.”
M. closed the windows and turned the volume up on the stereo.
“Well, what do you think?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s really jologs.”
“Don’t you know you’re the reason why we can’t progress? There’s plenty more jologs than erudite snobs like you, in case you aren’t aware. And language only evolves with the majority. New words are kept from being buried into obscurity under the pile of existing words if they’re sung by the masses. This could be a step into making the English language into our own.”
“Why don’t we just use the languages we already have like Tagalog, Bisaya and so on?”
“It wouldn’t hurt to have another one. And you can’t deny that English is widely used here—son of a whore!” The car came to an abrupt stop. I felt the seatbelt tighten against my chest. “Nobody ever uses the overpass! And if I run into them, it’s still my fault! Why can’t anyone learn to follow rules here?”
A few minutes passed before I turned the corner to M.’s house. I helped her with her bag. “So you still think it’s not a good idea, towardz?” I asked.
“You don’t know how ironic you sound this whole time, do you?” she smiled and gave me a kiss and said, “Call me when you get home.”
I wanted to tell her she was wrong, but she already went inside her house, pakshet.
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