“ano, seseduce mo na naman siya?” said a true friend.
<insert my bewildered-i-can’t-help-it-my-large-eyes-are-becoming-larger-to-show-you-that-i’m-innocent look>
“hello, what do you think of me, thinking of me” or any wild remark i just had to hurl at her for hurting me.
“bakit, nase-schedule ba ang lust?” i asked a friend.
the friend was dumbfounded, not because we were talking about malicious things, but because somebody overheard us.
<next scene: the two of us snickering while the poor man who overheard us feigned innocence>
“ha, so hiritan na to?”
<silence, with myself twiddling my thumbs>
“hulaan mo kung ano bago kong watch…” i bugged my brother.
<insert brand A here> my brother replied.
“what about ______ (brand B)?” he asked.
“umm, _______ (brand C)?” he persisted.
“Ah, ________ (brand D)!” he proclaimed.
“Hello! as in Guess, as in yung brand na may triangle and question mark. I wasn’t asking you to guess na.”
*goodness, my brother, the demented martian*
“ako gusto ko pumunta ng palawan!” i said.
“talaga? ba’t hindi bora, di ba may balak pumunta barkada mo?” asked friend A.
“wala, kasi gusto ko lang talaga makapunta sa mindanao area.”
“ha, palawan, di ba visayas yon?”
<insert motion graphics of the Philippine map, with separate arrows pointing to mindanao and visayas.>
calling my araling panlipunan teachers from grade school please… help?
Disclaimer: in these conversations, i wasn’t even a wee bit drunk.
but again, this entry is just an introduction to another confession, of how i get jealous for no apparent reason sometimes (let me make that clear). when i decide to let a person into my poetic memory, that person is treated as mine. like elmira getting another dream pet to love and smother. and so here i am living another day, when something is revealed to me, and i feel my possession is being snagged from me. well, as i’ve been told, i don’t have forever. now what the hell am i doing staking my chances on that forever? even wendy had to leave neverland for something as mundane and big and uncontrollable as city life and adulthood and loss and pain. i don’t have forever, but i do have my convictions, and if i say there is forever, there is bound to be. because i believe in it. and i live it, even if the pain is so tangible it grows into a hard lump at the base of my throat. and if at the end of the road, there’s no forever, but only a tangle of weeds and old trees, i’d say, too bad, you could have taken that journey with me, and the old trees would instantly blossom, ghibli-style, into giant tortoises. but there would be no you, only a lonesome journey, but then, it would have been worth it, because i would have staked my very last breath to believe in it.
wine comes in at the mouth
and love comes in at the eye;
that’s all we shall know for truth
before we grow old and die.
i lift the glass to my mouth,
i look at you, and i sigh.
a poet to his beloved
i bring you with reverent hands
the books of my numberless dreams;
white woman that passion has worn
as the tide wears the dove-gray sands,
and with heart more old than the horn
that is brimmed from the pale fire of time:
white woman with numberless dreams
i bring you my passionate rhyme.
—- William Butler Yeats —-
i told you this was a silly piece. but of course, yeats is exempted.