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i want to write down this gratefulness. this special feeling of being able to meet and know beautiful people who do not have blogs or access to the internet. as much as i enjoy reading profiles, i am more drawn to the VERBS in people. words are fancy. as much as i like talking to witty and clever people, i admire those who are kind, tender and humble. for me, they are the strongest. those that do something without being at the forefront and without claiming whatever single act of gregariousness they are doing. i am grateful to meet poets who need not write poetry. they breathe and live it. and they are in every corner as long as i just open my heart to feel and see. in those days when i feel bored, i stop, sit and swallow humor. when everything sets this wrong notion of measuring lives in heights, there are beautiful souls who remind me that, sometimes, it’s the depth that matters.
i am grateful for cloud formations at 5pm, moments with friends and just observing their facial expressions and hand gestures (the human form is so lovely). i am grateful for my loving family especially my siblings who are just too adorable. i am grateful for the stupid things i did out of risks. for the few regrets that i’d rather keep silent about because i am not proud of them. i am grateful for every individual life that is touching mine. for the story behind that face.
.
“I like your shoes and your chin..”
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Happy 1st year dear Tagay. ♥ Though mom cannot bring you on road trips as much as Dad did, she and you will be moving out to a place you will adore. And there will be reminders of your wandering soul: a hammock, yellowpaged-book and lots of clouds. You remind us how memories can be so beautiful.
You know why you rock. You’re the only chicken I know who is so charming that even the most serious friends I have cannot help but say “Hello, how are you?” (in English) when they drop by our yard. And though I will be remembered by some people as an odd woman cuddling a cock, I do not mind at all. It is because I adore touching you. The feeling is so familiar and I love it. Familiarity can be beautiful sometimes. We just often fail to value it . You know what I mean. Thank you for making people I hold dear giggle, for making my ESL students appreciate little things like the sound of a rooster in the morning and most of all for being a part of an irreplaceable story among my thousands of stories.
We love you. Live longer please, pinky promise?
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(dandelions, farewell gravity)
it’s the moment before
we close our eyes.
your lips blow me gently
into tiny ballet dancers
dancing in tiptoes,
with the sun, the wind,
and
the
pleats
of their
skirts.
(aqua)
without giving everything away,
there are quaint corners too hot to remember,
our bodies shaking with fervor - with slow,
familiar rhythm. we did not look
like people, then,
we looked like gods, we looked like lovers,
we couldn’t see the ending, then,
we were like tangled up in sand & gold.
*
☁
in the mornings/
the old man reads cowboy novels/
the old woman wears almost the same bestida daily/
you get organic coffee there/ at the old kapehan with cockfighting posters/
on thursdays/
the ukay-ukay boys sell second-hand skirts as big as the oceans/
dear little kuj and little kin, in time, you will realize why nostalgia happens to be one of the most beautiful words in the vocabulary. you will remember how the big sisters laugh grilling and stirring in preparation for your birthdays. how we hang sarongs and ask you to pretend as if you’re actually blowing the candles because the beach breeze did it better than your tiny red lips.and we had to take pictures. in time, you will find out why we tried our best to answer your toughest out-of-this-world questions, why we’d rather let you learn a musical instrument than bring you to malls, why we allow you to cry when the dog dies in the terrace and nod our heads when you say there’s-also-a-dogheaven-above-the-clouds, why i try to politely answer about Jesus Christ, his long hair, and all these superstitions around us. one day, i wish that you get this: Love is acted on, not reasoned out. but i am sparing you from all these serious things or all these moments of philosophical bullshitting that i am so dying to share with you for now. enjoy being children, being young, being careless. enjoy wondering why the moon is following you anywhere you go.
what i like about reunions is the idea of the years that have passed, those years that you did not spend together. they all flipped swift, then, you step your foot on the venue— you see them. it’s like unveiling something, you’ll never know what to find. i’ve always believed that people do not change in-depth. the very core remains while the surface metamorphose. at one point, a person may experience a life-changing experience, that’s great… but so far, i have this observation (and i can be wrong), that each person has steadfast roots, innate elements — which can never be touched by time, space and make-overs. i kinda like it that way. the thought of us like moons, having our specific dark sides. BUT i am happy to meet great people everytime.. those kinds that make me feel good about the humanity. during our recent high school reunion, i spent some quality time with a man and a woman. i learned so much from them in such a short-lived time compared to all those years i spend talking with/reading others.maybe, my fascination with the grassroots made it all that easy. the woman affirmed my faith in forgiveness. that it’s only those who have strong hearts who can really afford it. the man told me i punished him hardcore back in our Citizens Army Training-1 days. i surprisingly forgot about it. but i will never forget this
“tin, it does not matter what your job is or who you want people to see you, if you live life passionately, have good intentions, exert a little effort to be a better person each day, imagine what goodness you are contributing to the world?”
when i got home, i listened to random songs i truly love. then i remembered a Janis Joplin quote. and i felt this kind of awe about life that no one can ever take away. i felt my siblings were leaving home but i was too drowsy to get up and say my usual “have a blast!”. i remembered how drunk people were that night. how some even vomitted more than twice. then i laughed a little to sleep. Sam Beam lullabyed me. I felt his beard on my forehead.
☁
*
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.
*
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and this. a proof that:
how you see LIFE is how
you actually see YOUR self.
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maddening spurt:
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“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-
