I see your beautiful face

You are holding my hand tightly. I can feel that you have no intentions of letting it go.

We are running fast, making sure the thing is not catching up. You are ahead of me so I cannot see your face.


This post had been transferred by the author to another website named, “Nimotsu Counter.” To know what happened to the lovers mentioned above, kindly click here.

 

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Luscious

Luscious

Oh just look at those mouth-watering layers!  The colors are just so enticing!  And the latik at the top… I was walking passed the marketplace this afternoon when the vivid colors of this native Filipino delicacy caught my eyes.  And for more … Continue reading

CALOY, THE INFAMOUS MASTER OF AN INFAMOUS ART

The sun was up.  The sand was warm.  The water was excited to hit the shore.

A hammock was swaying in between two coconut trees.  It carried in it five children, laughing loudly as the cool breeze hit their faces.  Another four were standing near the tree, shouting to have their turn on the hammock.  And Caloy was one of them.

The screaming and begging of the kids were halted when Auntie Beth called for lunch.  The boy next to Caloy said, “Let’s race to the picnic table!”  And off the children went, but not Caloy. Once the hammock was vacated, he saw this as an opportunity to ride in the hammock, solo.  But as soon as he sat in it, the rope connecting it to the trees snapped and he fell to the ground.  Auntie Beth saw this.  But instead of helping him stand up, she said angrily, “Is that how an honor student acts?! You know that five had already been on it and you know that the rope is not strong enough.  But still you sat on it.  Didn’t you realize that? Look what happened to you!  You are an honor student, you should have known better!  And… didn’t I tell you to come and eat?”


This post had been transferred by the author to another blog named “Nimotsu Counter.” To continue reading about Caloy, kindly click here.

 

IS THIS GRIEF?

Grief.  The word seems simple, not too jargonistic, not too deep.

Through the years, I develop my own definition of the word.  I know that it is always associated with death.  I also know that it makes one deeply sad. Movies and TV shows also support my definition.  But that’s the thing, I only know it.

Being in a film production industry, where working hours per day is close to twenty-four and where sleep is not a priority, I always have that “floating” feeling every after shoot.  Everything is so light; I cannot feel anything at all, my body, my emotions seem lost in the atmosphere.

It was already five in the morning of September 24 when I got home from a film shoot.  I alarmed my phone at ten o’clock because I have a meeting by one in the afternoon.  As soon as I put my phone at the bedside, I readily drifted to dream world.

The clock soon struck ten.  My phone alarmed.  Oh yes, it had been five hours but it was not enough to give weight to my floating body and emotions.  As I stopped the alarm, I saw two text messages.  The first one was telling me that my shoot the next day was packed up.  I was supposed to feel a bit happy because I can have more time to rest, but no, there is no emotion.  The next one is from a cousin of mine.  Curiosity was supposed to come out because this cousin rarely texts me.  But I just remained blank.  I read her message.  She said that my grandmother just died, after months of being in and out of the hospital.  I checked the time the message was sent.  It was fifteen past five.

I went out of bed.  I still was not feeling anything.  What’s happening?  I walked towards the bathroom.  I kept asking myself why there was no register of any emotion.  Am I that insensitive?  I undressed myself and turned the shower on.  I closed my eyes, still debating with myself, as the water started crawling.  What was happening to me? Had I just turned to stone?  Then I just heard myself sniffing.  I did not remember I have colds.  The sniffing continued.  I turned the shower off.  But water kept drifting, not from the shower, but from my eyes.

So is this what they call grief?  Is this how the word, which definition I had known for a long time, really feels like?  Is this what happens when one experiences grief?

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Mama Linda, it’s almost a month now.  We really miss you.