I lost her before sunrise yesterday. You lost her before sunrise yesterday. Though both equally true, these do not support We lost her before sunrise yesterday. Neither of us can say she’s our loss. Whether or not comfort could have been taken from our loss, that’s possibly the point of doing this. One of us is waiting for “this too shall pass” to stop pouring hot water, wipe clean the tray, find a ride home.
They watched Titanic every chance they got. On the big screen too, sometimes twice a day. It’s two jeepney rides going, two more returning, and at the tambayan they’d giggle as if they pulled one over us. Over the world, Jack. They knew what was important, and they called these moments. Their custom did not irritate me, but it did some of the others. It was cute, something to mark them with, remember them by, like his-hers necklaces, DIY and just one bead at a time, except they had been out adorning days. It didn’t much improve my opinion of them though, and while I’d like to believe that I once had a very healthy opinion of them, it’s unmistakable: there was condescension in my fondness of them, as a couple, as separable persons. I find reassuring how this wasn’t one-way, since at least half that pair had a low opinion of me—of us, possibly. Still, I loved them. And much more than loving pigeons that alight from nowhere, pecking at the wood of your bench, unafraid of you. I can make this about that, you know, maybe even exaggerate that love which was watchful though nowhere near devoted.
Not that it’d wash anything away. Can’t see her. It’s not permitted to go there, leave, and return to a baby’s house carrying such dust. I don’t subscribe to the superstition, but the people around me, they do, and no, that’s not an excuse. I have a good one, but it’s too late to show it.
He kept jotting Titanic quotes on the logbook. They both had fine, enviable penmanship. They also had this count going. As I far as I could remember it, she went to see it with him 48 times.
He’s been thanking her. One of his tweets said something about doubling the void. What I know of it though I got from her FB account. Her husband posted the details there, a way to inform, reach out to her friends and family. She spent her holidays in the hospital, been weeks in and out of it before that. Was well around after her birthday, and after, some days of January. The profile picture that was up had been taken years ago. It had her smiling with her nephew. She made fun of their noses in the comments section.
The disaster that was Tagaytay-Laguna. People’s Park, and her adobo. The wet shirts we’d been reduced to. Isn’t it about time for that talk?
And then there was that other afternoon, her face aglow. You see eyes “smiling” when you’ve been looking at two crescents lying prone. You two were about the same height, both short, and you had your way, which was so that everybody you met wanted to take care of you, but she had this quality, right, this charisma, and it was a charm that wasn’t trying to get you to do anything—pull out your wallet, read what she’s reading, offer drinks, pray, what do you need for your thesis, are you warm, none of that—it was just there, like she just happened to come in with glistening noodles and, come, let’s do this every day from now on, there’s enough for everyone.
There’s more where that came from.
All the good ones are taken.
She was at the center of it, not always, but that afternoon yes, definitely. It’s not every day you hear someone reciting her list of crushes. Let’s just say it was a nice afternoon. Let’s agree. You took me aside. It was two decades ago, nearly, but what was it about? I hope it wasn’t an argument. Though right about now, sincerely, I would welcome an argument. Not to win it, as there’s no winning against afternoons. Just to lean forward some. Just to hear you think again.
You can’t come either, can you? You’re too far away, with your own newborn I see. The sister seems big enough, she’ll adapt soon.
Had she been a young man we’d have walked long walks together. I’d be insecure of our friend’s boyish, huggable chubbiness, the ladies—at every turn—preferring the blush on his cheeks. I’d have to cook up some substantial, self-deprecatory humor just to keep up. Should also get used to blocking the view, maybe get some well-earned pleasure off it. I’d have to do this every day, but the friendship would prosper. The walks, longer. If he’d have me.
And then she took you aside. Was it the same afternoon? Evening bus on the way home, you told me what it was about. She caught me gazing at you while you were talking, laughing. She couldn’t contain herself, had to tell you, said she understood it, right then and there, it had been wordless but very clear. (It was giddy reporting on a giddy reporting.) It was in my eyes, and she knew it the moment she saw it.
Ipinapakita ang mga post na may etiketa na sandigan. Ipakita ang lahat ng mga post
Ipinapakita ang mga post na may etiketa na sandigan. Ipakita ang lahat ng mga post
Ene 26, 2016
May 29, 2002
Old Friends
Jol's back from Bangkok. Astrid's up next I guess. Maybe we'll have another night together soon with Monica, Jessel, Arlyn, and Nathan. Another rainy night maybe?
I met with old friends yesterday night, my orgmates back from the Sandigan days. It was spontaneous, something afforded by the triple luxury of time, money, and circumstance that I was temporarily blessed with.
I was on the way to UP with Mae (my not-so-kid-sister) to get my endorsement. I sent messages and feelers to folks on the way there, knowing Carol was cooking something up at the UP CHE Pilot Plant. I thought I could get Bamz, Jerico, Alisher, Eugene, and other shady characters together. They were tied up in their own respective ways. But I went on to have dinner with Pauline, Irish, Blue, Ivy, and Michelle! Happy day!
There was fine selection of cuisine at the Podium. That banana leaf curry place had this interesting idea of appropriating the rural banana leaf plate into the high urban dining scene. Reminded me of the stuff we've lost and try our darnedest to regain.
Voltaire's cynic foil in Candide, Martin, said something about how having supper with fallen kings was inconsequential. It was the fare that mattered. I think meeting the luminaries of your past makes the meal—no matter how delectable—secondary.
We had coffee a few steps away at the less-fussed-about Cafe Breton. We had light-hearted conversation and good, heavy laughter. We were young people with our duties, concerns, little sorrows, our own bouts with hollowness, and anxieties. Yes, maybe, we can't change the world anymore, but it's not the time to stop trying right? We're just glad to have a break, have some eyes looking back at us and say how fatter or thinner we got. Or how the ladies are blooming with the blush of mayflowers and how the guys haven't stopped being such wiseasses.
We compared adventures and photos. And without showing-off, I think. We were all already a bit envious that everybody was spending time somewhere else, but it was refreshing to know that we're all moving forward, even with varying paces, paths, and plans. We were just a year or two out of the now seemingly sterile university. Outside those anemic walls... we have all faced the stuff we used to talk about, these pressures and conflicts that were then only stuff of speculation.
These hours we shared were just a moment in our clocks, a flash of color in the mundane, a dash of spice in the routine meals of our daily lives. There are some meals you consume in a matter of minutes, but the aftertaste will last a lifetime.
Ivy sent an SMS when everybody was home. She said these were the times when she missed Sandigan the most, that is, our org and greatest common factor. Michelle sent her own message: "saya no? i had a gud tym din. it's gud to hav anchors amidst tides."
I met with old friends yesterday night, my orgmates back from the Sandigan days. It was spontaneous, something afforded by the triple luxury of time, money, and circumstance that I was temporarily blessed with.
I was on the way to UP with Mae (my not-so-kid-sister) to get my endorsement. I sent messages and feelers to folks on the way there, knowing Carol was cooking something up at the UP CHE Pilot Plant. I thought I could get Bamz, Jerico, Alisher, Eugene, and other shady characters together. They were tied up in their own respective ways. But I went on to have dinner with Pauline, Irish, Blue, Ivy, and Michelle! Happy day!
There was fine selection of cuisine at the Podium. That banana leaf curry place had this interesting idea of appropriating the rural banana leaf plate into the high urban dining scene. Reminded me of the stuff we've lost and try our darnedest to regain.
Voltaire's cynic foil in Candide, Martin, said something about how having supper with fallen kings was inconsequential. It was the fare that mattered. I think meeting the luminaries of your past makes the meal—no matter how delectable—secondary.
We had coffee a few steps away at the less-fussed-about Cafe Breton. We had light-hearted conversation and good, heavy laughter. We were young people with our duties, concerns, little sorrows, our own bouts with hollowness, and anxieties. Yes, maybe, we can't change the world anymore, but it's not the time to stop trying right? We're just glad to have a break, have some eyes looking back at us and say how fatter or thinner we got. Or how the ladies are blooming with the blush of mayflowers and how the guys haven't stopped being such wiseasses.
We compared adventures and photos. And without showing-off, I think. We were all already a bit envious that everybody was spending time somewhere else, but it was refreshing to know that we're all moving forward, even with varying paces, paths, and plans. We were just a year or two out of the now seemingly sterile university. Outside those anemic walls... we have all faced the stuff we used to talk about, these pressures and conflicts that were then only stuff of speculation.
These hours we shared were just a moment in our clocks, a flash of color in the mundane, a dash of spice in the routine meals of our daily lives. There are some meals you consume in a matter of minutes, but the aftertaste will last a lifetime.
Ivy sent an SMS when everybody was home. She said these were the times when she missed Sandigan the most, that is, our org and greatest common factor. Michelle sent her own message: "saya no? i had a gud tym din. it's gud to hav anchors amidst tides."
Mar 8, 2002
Criticizing Critics
Happy day! I just finished reading The Return of the King. Thus ends my reading of The Lord of the Rings. As for my being a Tolkien reader, I may have only just begun. I am disinclined to reread The Hobbit or any of the LOTR books, as I've just finished poring over those. What I have in mind (and stored in this impersonal computer of ours) is a copy of Silmarillion. For this I am grateful to Paul, Sandigan's erstwhile webmaster.
Critics said it was the best among Tolkien's works. Critics usually do that. They pick some less popular piece in a certain author's corpus and say it's the true classic. Hell, I don't know any "decent" Shakespeare critic who would choose Romeo and Juliet over Macbeth or King Lear!
It's like saying, "all you guys have been reading the wrong book. I on the other hand have gone through all his works, I've read his unpublished thesis, I even read those little love letters he wrote when he was a pimply adolescent! From that wide selection that nobody else cared to labor over, I say this obscure work no one cared about is the real deal."
"Got any questions? Or have you read what I read? What framework are you coming from?"
I can't blame them (or "us?") though. I mean, they spent their baccalaureate degrees over literature getting everything - language, stylistics, milieu, tone, plot, every excruciating detail! What was the color of the wallet that the American soldier let drop? How many witches were there in Macbeth, with or without speaking lines, three or four? Did you count Lady Macbeth? Explain. Was there really a devil or was that just Ivan Karamazov's hallucination? Or is this whole exam just a hallucination in Ivan's world-view? In yours?
They got everything really. Maybe except entertainment?
And they (okay, "we") devote postgraduate time and toil too. We look and sound so erudite, such connoisseurs of "high thought." And what do we tell the masses? "You watched Romeo and Juliet? That's Shakespeare at his best you know!" or "You've just finished The Fellowship of the Ring? It's just the greatest, isn't it?"
"Duh? Hello," the brave reader speaks, "We knew that. You spent your time studying literature just to say that?" They have a point too. They have an engineering, medicine, or law degree (and salary to boot) and they also got that.
So I'll just raise my erudite high brow. Oh. Romeo and Juliet? He was such an amateur then, wasn't he? Oh. LOTR is good for starters. I assume you're just warming up to read Silmarillion. Now that's worth reading!
And those years of snobbish faithfulness to the canon, those excruciating minute detail studies, the piled fiction that I never really enjoyed with those doses of caffeine, all that money I'm not going to have, it's all worth the puzzled look on his face and the forced, hesitant, nod. A pretense of acquiescence. "Uh yeah, right, 'Selma Reyon,' I'll start reading on her soon!"
But he may just say "Screw you! You wasted years in that nuthouse academe! Everybody loves Romeo and Juliet, freak!"
Belle, kakukuha ko lang nga nung link na iyan para sa mga komento per artikulo. Sana nga e magamit mo! Ok lang sa akin na mangarag riyan. Pwede ko naman i-delete e, hehe! Pero yun naman talaga yung silbi nyan. Para medyo makapa ko naman kung ano ang epekto o kawalan ng epekto ng sulatin.
Ok lang na magkwentuhan blues tayo rito! Medyo naintriga nga ako sa sagot mo sa mahal nating Mel sa susma e. Huwag kang maasar ha? Wala kasi akong tuwirang karanasan sa ganuong bagay e.
Trixy, salamat sa komento mo sa deskripsyon sa blag! Malaking bagay lalo na't galing sa iyo.
Ria at Chie, papunta na ako riyan sa Cavite! Antay lang! At ikaw nastranded dyan, musta na? Heto yung SMS mo sa akin, ibablag ko kasi trip ko:
"The most beautiful things are those that madness prompts and reason writes."
-Andre Gide
O di ba? Pangkalahatang gabay (at deskripsyon na rin nga) sa mga nagbablag katulad natin?
Narito nga pala sa tinig.com v 11.0, ang pagbasa ko sa pagtatapat ng mga pwersang Amerikano at Abu Sayyaf sa Filipino psyche. Alam kong ilang beses ko na nasabi ito pero sasabihin ko uli, dala ng sobrang emosyon. Nakakaasar talaga na matawag na Abu lover ng tumatayong lider ng bansa. Hurt ako.
Critics said it was the best among Tolkien's works. Critics usually do that. They pick some less popular piece in a certain author's corpus and say it's the true classic. Hell, I don't know any "decent" Shakespeare critic who would choose Romeo and Juliet over Macbeth or King Lear!
It's like saying, "all you guys have been reading the wrong book. I on the other hand have gone through all his works, I've read his unpublished thesis, I even read those little love letters he wrote when he was a pimply adolescent! From that wide selection that nobody else cared to labor over, I say this obscure work no one cared about is the real deal."
"Got any questions? Or have you read what I read? What framework are you coming from?"
I can't blame them (or "us?") though. I mean, they spent their baccalaureate degrees over literature getting everything - language, stylistics, milieu, tone, plot, every excruciating detail! What was the color of the wallet that the American soldier let drop? How many witches were there in Macbeth, with or without speaking lines, three or four? Did you count Lady Macbeth? Explain. Was there really a devil or was that just Ivan Karamazov's hallucination? Or is this whole exam just a hallucination in Ivan's world-view? In yours?
They got everything really. Maybe except entertainment?
And they (okay, "we") devote postgraduate time and toil too. We look and sound so erudite, such connoisseurs of "high thought." And what do we tell the masses? "You watched Romeo and Juliet? That's Shakespeare at his best you know!" or "You've just finished The Fellowship of the Ring? It's just the greatest, isn't it?"
"Duh? Hello," the brave reader speaks, "We knew that. You spent your time studying literature just to say that?" They have a point too. They have an engineering, medicine, or law degree (and salary to boot) and they also got that.
So I'll just raise my erudite high brow. Oh. Romeo and Juliet? He was such an amateur then, wasn't he? Oh. LOTR is good for starters. I assume you're just warming up to read Silmarillion. Now that's worth reading!
And those years of snobbish faithfulness to the canon, those excruciating minute detail studies, the piled fiction that I never really enjoyed with those doses of caffeine, all that money I'm not going to have, it's all worth the puzzled look on his face and the forced, hesitant, nod. A pretense of acquiescence. "Uh yeah, right, 'Selma Reyon,' I'll start reading on her soon!"
But he may just say "Screw you! You wasted years in that nuthouse academe! Everybody loves Romeo and Juliet, freak!"
*
Belle, kakukuha ko lang nga nung link na iyan para sa mga komento per artikulo. Sana nga e magamit mo! Ok lang sa akin na mangarag riyan. Pwede ko naman i-delete e, hehe! Pero yun naman talaga yung silbi nyan. Para medyo makapa ko naman kung ano ang epekto o kawalan ng epekto ng sulatin.
Ok lang na magkwentuhan blues tayo rito! Medyo naintriga nga ako sa sagot mo sa mahal nating Mel sa susma e. Huwag kang maasar ha? Wala kasi akong tuwirang karanasan sa ganuong bagay e.
Trixy, salamat sa komento mo sa deskripsyon sa blag! Malaking bagay lalo na't galing sa iyo.
Ria at Chie, papunta na ako riyan sa Cavite! Antay lang! At ikaw nastranded dyan, musta na? Heto yung SMS mo sa akin, ibablag ko kasi trip ko:
"The most beautiful things are those that madness prompts and reason writes."
-Andre Gide
O di ba? Pangkalahatang gabay (at deskripsyon na rin nga) sa mga nagbablag katulad natin?
Narito nga pala sa tinig.com v 11.0, ang pagbasa ko sa pagtatapat ng mga pwersang Amerikano at Abu Sayyaf sa Filipino psyche. Alam kong ilang beses ko na nasabi ito pero sasabihin ko uli, dala ng sobrang emosyon. Nakakaasar talaga na matawag na Abu lover ng tumatayong lider ng bansa. Hurt ako.
Peb 20, 2002
Meetings
I had a splendid time! The UPSandigan's self-appointed Goons made sure of that. The Big Guy and his gracious lady were marvelous company. There was no end to talk, big and small, and we would not have it end anyway. Best of luck to him and his friend from way back in Manila Science when they raided the electronics surplus shop. Bring home the 64-megabyte bacon!
Jerico and Eugene, completed the foursome. We missed vital parts of the gang like techies (nay, techgods!) Ivan and Monds and the un-pro-gamer (but very close) JP.
Jerico and Eugene are definitely not codenames. With yours truly, Dennis, we are undoubtedly anime. And maybe, in each of our own fields and ways, we have not ceased fighting ghosts.
Sanyata was almost always there through mobile phone technology. I really have to go to Baguio without her huh? I am looking forward to our Thursday meeting. Baguio will push through though I have no clear idea about the company. It won't matter much though.
The point is to be alone.
Jerico and Eugene, completed the foursome. We missed vital parts of the gang like techies (nay, techgods!) Ivan and Monds and the un-pro-gamer (but very close) JP.
Jerico and Eugene are definitely not codenames. With yours truly, Dennis, we are undoubtedly anime. And maybe, in each of our own fields and ways, we have not ceased fighting ghosts.
Sanyata was almost always there through mobile phone technology. I really have to go to Baguio without her huh? I am looking forward to our Thursday meeting. Baguio will push through though I have no clear idea about the company. It won't matter much though.
The point is to be alone.
Ene 22, 2002
I'm looking forward to another meeting
Maybe another night at Mang Jimmy's. Yeah man! This time, with Sandiganistas. I'm not so sure if it will push through though. I've been dumped with a host of problems again. Well! Whatever doesn't kill me...
...sure's not making me feel too much alive.
Haven't even read these new books Monica bought. Voltaire's Candide and Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness. I've been tinkering with Dreamweaver Utradev 4, MS Photoeditor, and good old MS Paint. I'm doing some doodles and graphics, having some fun with bitmaps and jpegs. I'm constructing this little homesite, that is, oddly enough, just a support for this blog! Maybe,. if I have some time, I'll merge the two. But they say there's a problem with Geocities' FTP serving for blogs.
I don't know, really. For now, it's all just a reflection of my fragmented self. Fragmented self. That's just a fashionable way of saying scatter-brain. (",)
...sure's not making me feel too much alive.
Haven't even read these new books Monica bought. Voltaire's Candide and Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness. I've been tinkering with Dreamweaver Utradev 4, MS Photoeditor, and good old MS Paint. I'm doing some doodles and graphics, having some fun with bitmaps and jpegs. I'm constructing this little homesite, that is, oddly enough, just a support for this blog! Maybe,. if I have some time, I'll merge the two. But they say there's a problem with Geocities' FTP serving for blogs.
I don't know, really. For now, it's all just a reflection of my fragmented self. Fragmented self. That's just a fashionable way of saying scatter-brain. (",)
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