Whatever happened to the girl they saw under a big, striped umbrella?

At first I thought I want to read the poem by Lucille Clifton over and over again, but recently I wanted to rip out the whole page because it does not speak anything for me.

I thought I wanted to write letters to everyone. I changed my mind. i would only tell them lies if I write to them.

I thought that I would very much like to go back to Boljoon. But if I went back, the magic of all those vinta drawings would fade. Memory serves as a frame to a place; keeps the picture intact and almost alive.

I thought I can make it to doing media work even with low pay. BUT I CAN'T LIVE ON PASSION ALONE. I thought I could join all the creative writing workshops I could apply to, BUT I CAN'T KEEP ON WRITING WITHOUT ACTUALLY HAVING TO LEARN FILIPINO LITERATURE AT A DEEPER LEVEL.

I thought I am open and liberated. But his number stays on my cellphone untouched.

I thought I know how to analyze and deal with relationships... but I remain to be the most immature in the family.

I thought one could listen to music and be absolutely ignorant about album names and artist name... how come I feel like the most stupid girl listening to jazz music, not knowing the different genres of jazz, or of the artists' names for that matter.

I thought the world wanted frank and honest people. But why do I get crucified for showing if I am sad, irritatated, or disappointed, or extremely happy..

I thought coffee is a cup of warm liquid that brings back memories of grandfathers. How come people around me take it like a trophy as to being a metropolitan chic?

I thought the shooting for a pilot episode of a TV show Estranghero would take me swimming and trekking and getting into the action itself... how come all I remember are the fisherman's blue tattered shirt, calloused hands, and dim eyes... he seemed happy though. So I go back to the city tired and drained confused at the real meaning of happiness and fulfillment.

I thought it was okay that I graduate from college without honors. But graduation day is a month away, and all I can think of is how to tell my family, "ayaw mo adto uy. wala ra ko didto."