I wear my favorite black top, a gift from a very close friend.
I wear comfortable sandals.
I carry my best bag.
And I wear my hair in a ballerina fix, carefully adjusting the hairpins on the sides to keep the bangs from covering my cheeks.
I buy myself large McDo fries and my all-time favorite coke float.
I completely ignore the computer at home and go to one of those internet cafes way back in college. I spend for hours and hours of online surfing and restless page-hopping.
I go to the mall and meet a friend. I sit for hours on end at the coffee place, shell out a few more hundred and talk and talk and talk. Sometimes I listen, too. Mostly I laugh. That laughter that feels like it's the only thing you grew up with, never hesitating to laugh loudly and create weird noises by the end of each gap.
Midnight is 9pm for us.
And 3am is midnight.
So I go home by 1am or 2am. Cram. There's stuff to finish. Loads of them.
But the day's fine.
What's important is, it's 3am and I will sleep to an enveloping white. Will I be happier when I wake up? Maybe. Maybe not.
It's midnight. And I'm sleeping now.
float vases
2 comments:
ver, i already had a long post... to you. but then the webby wiped it away. grrrr...
but it said...
i do not understand why ana escalante neri killed herself. generally, i do not understand why a person would kill himself/herself. i do not know ana except that she writes/used to write for sunstar (her column was the first that flashed in my mind when her suicide was mentioned... wait, was it really suicide?), but what she did would stamp an irrevocable impression in people's minds over all the good things that she did in her life. (just read irrevocable in a writer's article today, hope i nailed its meaning right) no problem could ever justify such act, only the strength, or the lack of it, of character.
i am sorry for the loss of wila.. and of cebu's growing literary pool. ver, are people who are SO engrossed in keeping their feelings within the confines of their writing pads more likely to commit suicide? didn't virginia woolfe kill herself too?
...
ver, people here are already talking about my impending leave. no day yet. rainy. sunny. it will come. i have to regain my yearning for the day. i miss that yearning. i even came up with my own definition of the true state of happiness... living every moment of the day, and not to the end of it. doesn't matter man diay who you are with, where you are, what you're doing, what you have, how much you have... i've made more glances at the clock, wristwatches, cellphone time in 8 months than i have in 20 years.
how sad is that? on the gooder side, goodest side: i have my family. and we have blogs. and the clouds. and ice cream. and my sunday mornings alone (last last sunday i got my chair out in the garden, sat on it, read roy under the tree.. and the breeze!... that was my best alone-y sunday in cebu EVER)
miss you ver.
i'm sorry,
but not even the lack of strength of character could justify suicide. could explain it, maybe.
i miss you ver!
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