8.19
2331
my first thought was to sleep this day off. actually, my thought right now is still to sleep this day off. but there is something about my old entries that taunt me. "you're fucking lazy now, eh?"
so here i am. a word bullimic. except i'm not so good at sticking my fingers down my throat to vomit every word i eat up, so i expect to be sitting here staring at the screen for quite a while..
today felt dry. i can't remember now why i felt heavy as i boxed a flattened piece of cardboard, but i know it wasn't the realization of why i was boxing the box. that realization came while i emptied my book case.. and found my birthday present for paco this year.
i'd given him that present when we met up at starbucks as a little birthday thing. his first reaction was a laugh. that kind of "woah, haha shet how am i going to handle this" laugh. the kind of laugh i heard from him when he used to tell me about how cheska was towards him, before he realized he wanted to be serious with her. i don't know if he saw the pain in my look, nodding with eyebrows raised, that said "i know you don't even want to handle it, but there it is anyway because... you can't not know." i took it back because he said he didn't have a bag and he was going to the supermarket with cheska to buy their dinner. he never asked about it since.
i still wonder what was going through his head when he decided to say, "you know, katrise said she'd feel at peace if i ended up being with you."
what does it mean when God seems to stop you - you, lugging a sack of unanswered questions on your back - in your tracks? i guess it's Him trying to take the sack from me. but it's not easy. in fact it's fucking hard. but i really do want out, Lord, and i know You're going to keep wrestling with me until You can hold me completely.
i have left The Witch of Portobello, Captivating and The Heart behind for me to carry with me for company. when i left singapore for manila my bag had like seven books, two of which quite large in size, one hardbound.
trooped around old manila yesterday with kath and javi. i soaked everything in all over again. the vintage architecture, the color, the stone-tiled roads, the reflection in the puddle. the moss on the stone walls and floors. the art gallery. found a new place that let us up on the top of a fortress, overlooking a golf course. kath bought flutes for all of us.
sat at the bay behind MOA in the afternoon and everything felt.. one. the wind and the sound of crashing waves. the expanse of sky and clouds. legs hanging over the ledge. kath's singing.
still cannot explain this bottleneck. am i really incapable of turning something into something more? i used to be able to turn nothing into something but it seems that that's as far as i go.
in the walking-back trip in old manila, we passed by a building whose front porch(ish) gave them shield from the hot sun and a play area. there was dancing and clapping games in one group. i took a photo but felt no life so i moved to the next group. chinese garter with little multi-colored rubber bands tied together. a little boy stared into my lens and spoke life: "ano yun oh!" i stood up, walked over to them and they ran toward me. laughed in delight of seeing their face in the small LCD screen of my camera. "ako yan oh!" i took a couple of more with them aware they were being taken photos of, this time. another round of "ako yan oh!"s. i am not sure how to articulate how warm it felt to have one of the little hands rest on my outstretched arm as they craned their necks to get a glimpse of the delight on screen.
it's almost 1AM and i've writeen quite a bit for my lost ability, but i remain unmoved.
somewhere in the literary silence i lost the movement of my words.
2331
my first thought was to sleep this day off. actually, my thought right now is still to sleep this day off. but there is something about my old entries that taunt me. "you're fucking lazy now, eh?"
so here i am. a word bullimic. except i'm not so good at sticking my fingers down my throat to vomit every word i eat up, so i expect to be sitting here staring at the screen for quite a while..
today felt dry. i can't remember now why i felt heavy as i boxed a flattened piece of cardboard, but i know it wasn't the realization of why i was boxing the box. that realization came while i emptied my book case.. and found my birthday present for paco this year.
i'd given him that present when we met up at starbucks as a little birthday thing. his first reaction was a laugh. that kind of "woah, haha shet how am i going to handle this" laugh. the kind of laugh i heard from him when he used to tell me about how cheska was towards him, before he realized he wanted to be serious with her. i don't know if he saw the pain in my look, nodding with eyebrows raised, that said "i know you don't even want to handle it, but there it is anyway because... you can't not know." i took it back because he said he didn't have a bag and he was going to the supermarket with cheska to buy their dinner. he never asked about it since.
i still wonder what was going through his head when he decided to say, "you know, katrise said she'd feel at peace if i ended up being with you."
what does it mean when God seems to stop you - you, lugging a sack of unanswered questions on your back - in your tracks? i guess it's Him trying to take the sack from me. but it's not easy. in fact it's fucking hard. but i really do want out, Lord, and i know You're going to keep wrestling with me until You can hold me completely.
i have left The Witch of Portobello, Captivating and The Heart behind for me to carry with me for company. when i left singapore for manila my bag had like seven books, two of which quite large in size, one hardbound.
trooped around old manila yesterday with kath and javi. i soaked everything in all over again. the vintage architecture, the color, the stone-tiled roads, the reflection in the puddle. the moss on the stone walls and floors. the art gallery. found a new place that let us up on the top of a fortress, overlooking a golf course. kath bought flutes for all of us.
sat at the bay behind MOA in the afternoon and everything felt.. one. the wind and the sound of crashing waves. the expanse of sky and clouds. legs hanging over the ledge. kath's singing.
still cannot explain this bottleneck. am i really incapable of turning something into something more? i used to be able to turn nothing into something but it seems that that's as far as i go.
in the walking-back trip in old manila, we passed by a building whose front porch(ish) gave them shield from the hot sun and a play area. there was dancing and clapping games in one group. i took a photo but felt no life so i moved to the next group. chinese garter with little multi-colored rubber bands tied together. a little boy stared into my lens and spoke life: "ano yun oh!" i stood up, walked over to them and they ran toward me. laughed in delight of seeing their face in the small LCD screen of my camera. "ako yan oh!" i took a couple of more with them aware they were being taken photos of, this time. another round of "ako yan oh!"s. i am not sure how to articulate how warm it felt to have one of the little hands rest on my outstretched arm as they craned their necks to get a glimpse of the delight on screen.
it's almost 1AM and i've writeen quite a bit for my lost ability, but i remain unmoved.
somewhere in the literary silence i lost the movement of my words.
1 comment:
this is exactly how i feel about my own writing. for a while i thought i was starting to get it back. until it fluctuates again. maybe God doesn't really want us to write something "productive". maybe He's the one who wants to create the masterpiece and He jsut wants us to connect to the medium so we stop getting rusty. we're pregnant adi. :-) smile a little.
as for the paco bit. yeah. it's hard. and it's tough. and i know how painful that must've felt. give it to me nalang. hahaha.
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