siya

 

*

Photobucket

 

she likes seashore naps and the view of everything from the bus window. she likes tiny moments and the small spaces between faces when people talk.

 

sometimes, she wakes up to that odd feeling of being a fallen leaf, an old tree, an azotea or a waitress somewhere-- talking to a taxicab driver about that random song on the radio.

 

*


 ---

 poetry as visual art

 powets do kick ass

 iPud (ako, too)

---

 

 

 

 

 

Photobucket

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and this. a proof that:

how you see LIFE is how

you actually see YOUR self.


 

*

Photobucket

*



 

 

***

 

maddening spurt:

----------------------

 

 “The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!”

 

-Jack Kerouac-

 

tahi

05/12/11

*

 

  

 

 

 

 The value of things is not in how long they last, but in the intensity with which they occur. Thus there are unforgettable moments, inexplicable things and incomparable people.

 

 

*

it was 2004 when we first met. it was 3 years after when we parted ways because it all got tiring. at some points, i forgot about you- in some days, deliberately— sometimes, i just forgot about you because life was raging. new people, new interests, lots of music to listen to, lots of moments that did not involve you. there were random days when we would decide to meet. and very rare ones when we would randomly see each other from afar and a) send a message “i saw you but you were too far and was with someone else” or b) we just spontaneously grab some chair and talk until the last bus goes. in those hours that we arranged catch-ups, we would end up talking about two things: nostalgia and non-sense. there were those nights when you would try to call but my phone was somewhere else. if we got lucky, we would talk after midnight about wishes, frustrations and longing. yes, in that particular order.

 

wishes

frustrations

LONGING

 

 the last time i saw you, you were trying to explain about the bad weather and suppression. your hands still reminded of the trees. i told you.. “oh my, you’re already 25!” and you just looked at the sea and smiled. you told me you missed me. i just smiled and looked at the sea from the other direction.you told me about this funny day when we went swimming and you were in your trunks. i was in my floral stuff and i had a horiible insect bite on my thigh. we laughed. went quiet. 

 

you had to carry my bags. you had to push the gate a bit. i had to tell you i was happy to see you again and it felt good to stand beside you in the same place where we used to spend aimless evenings being younger and clumsier. 

 

today, i celebrate you. your fascination for Iraq. the way you would be a dead star in so many nights. the way you would be the most honest person to tell me that i am exaggerated and high-strung. the way you keep my old letters after 6 long years. the defiance of your friendship. 

 

know that whenever i touch tree skin, i am reminded of you. 

 

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Posted by modernpatadyong at 18:33:00 | permalink

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