a promise

No regrets.

a poem for bosing jay

because it's my one and only boss's birthday....
who's also a certified choy-harrasser, by the way



even if he's quite busy with scampi-a
he'll always be portal's bosing jay...

Happy Birthday, Bosing Jay!

Now wasn't that nice? Please give me a promotion. Heehee, kidding! :P

minsan

“Time pushes at our backs like a centrifuge, forcing us outward and away, until it nudges us into oblivion. That, I think, is the only explanation for what happened to my father and me, just as it happened to Taft and Curry, the same way it will happen to the four of us here in Dod, inseparable as we seem. It’s a law of motion, a fact of physics... Like all things in the universe, we are destined from birth to diverge. Time is simply the yardstick of our separation. If we are particles in a sea of distance, exploded from an original whole, then there is a science to our solitude. We are lonely in proportion to our years.”

 -The Rule of Four

So I cracked open The Rule of Four. I was prepared to read a suspense novel, something ala-Dan Brown that would entertain me while the humidity made me too lazy to crawl out of bed. A thriller set in the halls of Princeton, I was fascinated by bits and pieces of Ivy League life and Italian history (courtesy of one of the character’s thesis).

I was totally unprepared, however, for the subplot of the novel -- the story of four friends, of how circumstances and time’s passage will take its toll on their friendship and eventually tear them apart.

Is it really inevitable, losing one’s friends and the people you love?

bring home the cow

Here's a big GOOD LUCK to Ate Sym, who's off in a couple of days to Moab, Utah as part of Team Philippines in the Marlboro Adventure Team. Only girl pa yan ha. *applause, applause*

So... while I'm here trying to conquer Sweetie Pao, there's Sym off conquering the desert, and a few other artista's hearts along the way. Baka naman pagbalik mo, pang-Hollywood na ang blind item mo ha. Heehee.

Don't forget to bring home a cow.

Ang Marlboro Country, merong cowboys, so siguradong may cow... Riiiight. Someone's going to shoot me for being corny now.

Bow.

a dream is a wish your heart makes

The party was bustling, filled with throngs of people milling around. The cold night air and bright lights add a note of festivity to the air, reminding me of the Christmas carnivals my parents used to take me to when I was a child. I cross a bridge hanging over a small pond. The water glistens in the night, reflecting the colorful light bulbs strung all over the garden.

Suddenly, I catch sight of you, standing on one side of the bridge.

I didnt know you were back. I'm stunned, but try not to act surprised. Your head turns as I pass by you, but I look straight ahead and pretend not to notice. Maybe I was just imagining things. Maybe it was just someone who looked like you.

I'm too much of a coward to look back.

***

The party is over. I am alone on the sidewalk, heading towards my car on the far end of the street. I feel the strange sense of emptiness that I always get when I go to parties. I push it out of my thoughts, and instead listen absently to the clack of my heels against the sidewalk.

I hear someone say my name.

I look up, and there you are, standing a few feet away from me.

I freeze. So, it really was you I had seen. I quickly regather my composure, and continue walking.

"Talk to me," you say, following me.

I ignore you. I wasn't ready to talk to you.

You hand me a sheet of paper. There, scribbled in your handwriting, are the words 'I'm sorry.'

I continue walking, but you hand me another sheet of paper. I realize you are holding a sheaf of paper in your hands.

I stop, and slowly turn to face you. We stand there mutely under a street lamp. You hand me note after note, waiting patiently as I read it before handing over the next. I am silent as I read each note, telling me the story of us.

When all the notes are gone, I look up. I realize only then that I had been crying. "Okay," I whisper. "Let's talk."

***

We talk over coffee. We talk about everything, from what happened to us, to what happened when we were apart. We talk the whole night through, making up for all the lost time and all the lost moments we had let pass.

I smile for what seems the first time in ages.

***

I wake up. There, in the darkness, my heart plummets as I realize it was just a dream. My hope crumbles into pieces.

I'm not over you.

the mystery in the attic

There's something in the attic.

I am tapping away at three in the morning, when all of a sudden I hear loud noises coming from our attic. I initially think it's my dad, since he's always fixing something around the house.

Then I realize, it's the middle of the night. It couldn't possibly be my dad.

BLAG! I hear something fall to the floor, followed by some scrambling. And, I tell you, it's not the faint sound that a mouse usually makes -- the noises are really loud.

Either:
a) there's a mumu in the attic
b) robbers are in the attic
c) a humongous rat is in the attic

I go with c. I hope the rat doesn't fall on me while I'm sleeping.

♥ By the way, congrats to Simon and Rina, who, at 4:35am, became the proud parents of Ada Ledesma Villalon. Happy birthday Ada!!! :) ♥