Monday, May 26, 2008
You may of course feel compelled to scream or perhaps being of a more gentle nature to sob. These sounds though wordless are also inadequate. You may cease your wordless sounds early or late after the event. The timing of your silence matters not.
For some it is possible after the folding of the hands, after the bowing of the head, after the silence, or after the useless sounds, to see and to touch.
This seeing may last for hours. In some cases it may last for days. But what you see is obscured by what you cannot see. You cannot see for example a smile. You cannot see a particular movement of the head. In fact, you cannot see any movement, however long you look. And they will not let you look for too long. That is the second lesson. There is rarely habeas corpus beyond the grave.
You want to touch. And you can touch. But what you touch is precious to you not because of what it is but because of what it was. And was and is now signify everything. Was alive and is dead.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
I have always been good with words. A friend once said I know exactly what one has to hear to uplift his/ her spirit. Generally, he’s correct; thought there is one exception.
Whenever Keng starts talking about his dad, I automatically become speechless. It feels like my brain shutdowns and rejects everything he’s saying. It’s not that I don’t want to listen. I do listen; actually, I just listen.
Sometimes, I know he prefers that I stay quiet. Other times, it’s noticeable in his eyes that he’s waiting for my reaction. Those days, I fail to deliver.
Like I said, it’s not that I don’t want him talking about his dad, though most parts of the conversions are sad and painful. His willingness to unearth those buried heartaches shows how much he has let me in. I never take for granted a second of those moments when he lets his guard down to talk about the past, whether with a blank stare or with tears in his eyes. Although his actions show he knows that, I’m still scared that he might think I’m not interested because I rarely say anything.
I can’t seem to find the words to say to make it even just a little more bearable for him. Perhaps, it’s because a painful loss has never been part of my life. Years have passed, but contrary to what most people believe in, the cut in his heart just grows deeper. I see it in his eyes; I hear it from the crack in his voice.
From deep inside my heart of hearts, I want to dig up the right words to bring back that glow in his eyes. But in every attempt, I just come up with three words.
I hope I love you is enough. I hope my I love yous will always be enough.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Happy Birthday, Pal!Ü
I am such a lame friend.
(This is what I should have said had I been able to do the video, sweetie.)
I met Pinky when I was in 2nd yr highschool. Actually, I already knew who she was a year earlier but it was during our 2nd year when we really became close friends. We were seatmates then, and we did nothing during P.A. classes other than eating Tini Wini and Dew
A year after that, we kind of had a misunderstanding. After another one, we were no longer classmates. Perhaps, that was the reason why we never really got to patch things up and have the same friendship we used to. Even so, I want you to know you’ve always been special to me. And for me, you’re still the same Pinkikay I loved sharing secrets with. I’m still you’re friend, Pinx.
Now that you’re turning 20, not too young but not yet old either, I just wish that everything, everyone that makes you happy will always be present in your life. You deserve happiness, my dear.Ü
Happy, happy Birthday, Pinx! God Bless!
I wish the next time I’ll post a thing about you or us, there will be pictures to go with it. I’ll be seeing you, dear. I miss you.☼
The Rest... Later
Just when FUN is supposedly the only thing I’m concerned about, I’m bombarded with endless uncertainties that worry the most part of my brain. I know it’s pointless troubling myself with these questions because no amount of stress can give me the answers. Yet, I can’t stop myself from being edgy.
Sometimes, I feel like I worry way too much that I miss out being young and carefree. Most of the time, I’d rather be this worried and serious than enjoy my youth and be left with nothing to relish afterwards. If only ‘THE ME six years ago’ can read my mind right now, she’ll surely be rolling in the floor laughing. I used to be a happy go lucky person. I used to think the future was so far ahead that nothing in my present can significantly damage it. Well, I guess that mentality no longer suits me at this age.
For the past months I’ve been doing some serious talks with my parents about my future plans. Considering the number of options I laid down in front of them, nothing seems concrete at this point. I’m still undecided about a lot of things. And just like how I do my shopping, I want to have a view of everything in store before making a purchase. However, the drawback is, life isn’t as limited and as small as a shopping center. So if I’m too picky, I might miss out on the greatest opportunities I can never take back.
Keng and I sometimes say what’s important is that we are on steady ground and we’ll just figure out the rest later. Then again, next Saturday, we are scheduled to attend an Australian Education Exhibition at
Minutes of the (longed- for) Meeting
Agenda: To make- up for the daysss we haven't been together. Basically, to end the torture.
First Stop: Pink Sisters Chapel
Second Stop: Pancake House
The menu was of no use since we know exactly what to order.
Third Stop: Starbucks
This is one constant thing in our dates. Not really the caffeine, but the conversation in between sips of coffee. It was refreshing to talk about the past, remind each other of the wonderful years we spent together. However, the conversation shifted to future plans. Oh well, we love each other. The rest we'll figure out later.
Fourth Stop: Carlo's Pizza
Nearly 2 hours after our brunch, Keng was already complaining about his churning stomach. As a good girlfriend (wth?), I gave in to his plea for good pizza.
Keng finished 6 of those slices and he still wanted to try the main courses at our final stop. Which was.....
Last Stop: Bag of Beans
Last, Last Stop: My Place
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