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I'm vulnerable. I'm vulnerable (but) I am not a robot.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

lipad, puso, lipad!!!

i'm posting the story i wrote for pedxing which took place last sunday sa sunken garden. the theme was lipad, puso, lipad!!! (feb na feb, diba) and right after, nagpalipad kami ng balloons. it was sooooo kawaii.

now before we begin, i just want to give the background of what you're about to read. i thought of some characters from stories i wrote in the past and i wanted one of them to be a little happier since i felt the theme called for a more optimistic point of view. i thought of the girl from filipino in sicily who got left behind and stuff. altering it a little bit, i got to write something. so anyways, here it is.

Don’t Wear Those Shoes Out When It’s Raining


Today, I looked at my shoe and I realized the sole was broken. I’ve been ignoring it these past few days but deep inside I knew something was wrong. It’s not how my foot should feel. I wasn’t meant to touch the ground with my sock. I traced the hole with my finger, checking the damage, recreating the scene with images in my mind when the rubber finally gave in to the floor. Maybe there is a heaven where shoes go to rest. Sadly though, this pair isn’t going anywhere but the shoe repair store.

Three weeks ago, I knew exactly how it felt. “If we were really meant to be together then I’m sure nothing will change in a couple of years” he wrote on a Post-it stuck on my door. When I went in, all of his things were gone- the records, the books, everything that vaguely resembled him. But I can’t say I didn’t see it coming. Deep down I knew it was bound to happen. I’m not exactly that naïve to ignore the signals he sent out when we were still together.

Who was it that once said that everyone has a wound to mend or a void to fill? As time went past, I’ve seen all the faces of love- some remotely forgettable, others harshly unforgivable. And these faces blur in front of me like a speeding train. I felt my feeble hands holding on to each one and wondering if this was the one who could heal that innate wound.

With Coltrane on the background, I started wondering what it was that that Post-it meant. I can imagine that he somehow believed in a force that exists in the world which binds two people together in the end, no matter what. And when the cosmos finally arranges for the two to meet, birds will sing, sonnets will be sung, and the clouds, well, they do whatever it is clouds do when it’s a wonderful day. And maybe, just maybe, a Band-aid begins to close the wound in their proverbial hearts.

But after spending time and effort to see the faces of love, I could feel my wound only growing deeper, wider and with each tear, I felt more and more of my flesh being exposed. This brought about a confusion of sorts for if finding the one could fill that void, how come it only grows deeper and darker with each person I let in?

As I walk up to the busy shop with my broken shoe, I see that many people have broken shoes and broken hearts- each one of us trying desperately to fill that void, to patch up that wound, haplessly like a chicken attempting flight. How easy it would be to just turn my back on everything- to leave the image of the speeding train behind and with any luck reclaim the peace that I felt was stolen from me.

I watch as the craftsman gently takes the old sole from my shoe. It’s time to let the past go.

I see him selecting which sole will fit perfectly. Maybe I should be more careful who I let into my life.

As he puts the shoe and the new sole together, a bead of sweat drops to the floor. When the right one comes, I’ll work hard to keep him there.

He wipes the debris off the side of the shoe and after careful inspection declares his job is done. When I’m whole again, my heart can fly.

He wraps the shoe in a plastic bag and after setting my account, hands them to me. With a smile, he said “It’s a good thing it isn’t raining. You wouldn’t want to be stuck with a broken sole and a wet foot.”

I smiled back and said “If only you knew.” If only he knew.

Monday, February 12, 2007

thirty wurty






i know, i know it's been eons since my last post. and to think i was so eager in my anger these past few blog days. anyway, a lot has happened. i've read so much, seen so much, so to make things easy, i decided to come up with a simple concept. thirty word reviews. these haiku-esque limited reviews are easy to make, especially if you're a lazy lima bean like me!












BABEL
Directed by Alejandro González Iñárritu


Babel stressed me out but it was so worth it. everyone here was stellar. i love the whole international thing. in the end, i wanted to come home to mother!




LITTLE CHILDREN
Directed by
Todd Field


I first heard of Little Children from Jay Leno. It's a lovely way of viewing freedom and how some people go to extremes to get it. A modern Madam Bovary.





PowerBooks Sale


I went with a friend and it was really fun. I found Murakami books at a low price. Beware though that some books are cheaper/easier to get at National.




VINTAGE MURAKAMI


Perfect for people who want to get acquainted with the lovely Haruki. Contains short stories and a chapter from a book I regretted not buying (Underground). Short but very interesting!


THE GIVER
Lois Lowry


Don't you just love Lois Lowry? Here's another treat for those who just love her style of writing. With a flashlight, I read it under covers all in one night.


Zsa Zsa Saturnah (Musical) - Eula Valdes is a goddess. I am convinced she can save the Philippines. I saw the movie and this totally kicks Rustom Padilla's behind. Even the cheesy song sounds better. (note: it's the one that the love interest sings)





That's pretty much it! I know the concept of thirty word reviews sounds easy but if you're a blabber like me, it's hell! *cough cough* maybe when i'm less lazy, i can finally formalize my thoughts and write something worthwhile.


On the homefront, things are fine. I know my last post was an all out war but things turned out fine. I'm mostly different, I feel I'm older now and a little wiser. I'm starting to write again and I'm hanging out with people who promote that. I've also learned that I've got a knack for empathy.


I'm still confused with what I want to do after graduation. Something tells me I won't be teaching after grad but I'm still hoping I find out what my true passion is in the coming months.


I'm behind everything: sleep, schoolwork, life in general. I feel like I'm holding my breath under water and I'm about to come up for fresh air.


One day, it will all make sense.