Archive for October, 2009

No Recess!

October 30, 2009

Some people engage in small talk even with those they vilify at the end of the day just to casually establish connection and momentarily enjoy the security of being “in.”

And that’s their sense of belonging, thinking that those that don’t dabble in the talks are withered wallflowers.

And they have the guts to reassure themselves that this pretension equates to civility, perhaps self-trickery, and they feel gratified.

This reminds me of high school.


You know you miss someone when you write shit like this

October 27, 2009

Isn’t it gripping when that feeling of you missing someone sinks in and makes you all serious and reminiscent and pensive and receptive at the same time, conjures in your mind scenes of a man sitting next to an empty chair, a man looking at his hand as it pales with a certain coldness, a man tracing a woman’s name or scent in the air, he walking in a room with invisible walls closing in? And then suddenly, strangely, sappily you realize that you are that man: alone, even if whole.

For Ria

October 24, 2009

I’ve been in the same situation, only with less bitterness. And I say amen to these things you allow from your heart to flow. At least you had your realization at an earlier stage, though I fervently hope it’s genuine and continued—this I say since am fully aware that at moments wherein we find ourselves vulnerable in and to the way emotions play and display, we can’t truly say if the lines we draw are real or for good. But so far, this valiant effort of unfolding, opening yourself to others and practically your self, is one giant leap from bleakness.

Those destructive things you’ve said, you do will realize in time, would’ve been better left in silence. And so, try to clean things up—replace or erase—while you still can. After all, these aren’t the souvenirs you’d like to cradle from time to time. They will mirror yourself, and no one wants to see his or her reflection adulterated.

And, yes, I still believe in the euphoric endings of romantic movies. Even if, despite and in spite of their golden promise, they, in real life, manifest a hurt hurtful than a real, mortal heartache.

Life, as they say, goes on, Ria. It does.

Racing Sentences

October 24, 2009

You think it’s weird: reading a mound of words not going after meaning—or even a semblance of it—and just delighting at how the words build up, pound on each other as they race towards the next punctuation; then someone asks for your reaction on lengthily written propositions, and you’re dumbfounded because you can’t give back anything save for this superficial amazement you disguise in a curious and conceited nod?