family talks.. not here. not now. in case you haven't noticed, i don't talk about them here.
their stories come in whispers.
our stories lay in the secret pages of my own thoughts.
the burial last wednesday came with less tears than i expected. not much wailing, fllinging of arms, or fainting, or curses. i did my best not to cry while the officiating priest babbled on.
i wish the tears were not because of the disappointing priest who sported his soutane (yes; sported), as though faking sympathy while talking about how dying means the dead are happy because they will meet God (how about the persons they leave behind? tell me, how about the others? where is the happiness and comfort when you grope your way in the night, wounded, hurt...)
i hate that priest.
all the more when he went on with the mass with his head bowed almost all the time. the sick fellow kept reading from a copy, even while he raised the "bread and cup of life."
on second thought, i pity him.
let's talk about the sun.
yesterday was 05-05-05.
amidst jokes that yesterday was a day for the canned sardines (giving credit to a brand of preserved food in cans, 555), i woke up with the charmed voice of the child in me.
today is special.
something special might happen.
i will do something crazy today.
i rode with my legs dangling from the inside of a truck.
i jumped from the sides of a dam to the river.
not crazy, but exciting enough.
jumping down, i suddenly thought all my worries would go down, too. all those piled-up self-pity and disappointments. it had more to do with me than with the others around me who pass by my own pages and