a writer, eh? not really. but why? because i'm a hopeless romantic. taunt me. laugh like the hyena. do the hokey-pokey. pounce on me. tell me how hopeless i am... real hopeless. go ahead. that's fine with me...
or share some pity and feel my pain. isn't that him, the dying martyr? oh, the poor chap. look at his frail limbs and fragile soul. but no, no. you'd never say that.
because i'm just a freakin' writer who no one cares about.. do tell me if i'm wrong, huh. not that i care.
did you hear me?
ace | adam | anna | ate airuz | ate aleth | ate anna | ate kimie | ate kris | ate lorine | ate norai | ate patit | bricci | cynthia | dana | desa | dina | gelynne | gerald | graziella | hazel | jaimee | jamie | janica | jason | jenny | justin | kathy | kuya dean | kuya james | kyreen | larz | m.a.j.i.k. | macy | marella | miles | phimie | raphael | rhio | pikselot | swastika | toki | yeye/valen
speak up...
past notes
April 2005
June 2005
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October 2005
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inside the classroom. out in the corridors. by the pathways. and even at the public market. in other words... virtually everywhere i go.
it's always there, flying by... and by, and by... like the willows in the wind... swish! a hand passed by... swish! swish! swish! someone caught it.
hands clasped tightly, head bowed down, eyes unaware of the light... he begins to pray in silence.
then a few moments pass by... he straightens up, opens his eyes and his palm, and looks at the little fluff with great expectations.
then... a gust of wind carries the willow away...
away... to... where?
up to the heavens? down to solid ground? into the hands of someone else, who in turn makes his or her version of prayers... and by, and by, and by...
do tell me... why is the common dandelion fluff used as the primary medium for our pleas and dreams? why do we sound peculiarly hopeful whenever we swear by the dandy fluff?
is it just one of those measly superstitions? does it inject something to think of in your mind? why am i asking these things?
or is it for me, a strange case of deja vu?
deja vu. how silly. so what if i had these premonitions of flying fluffies when someone left me four years ago? so what if one small wish, out of a million wishes, came true, no thanks to the dear fluffy? then again, what if that single wish doesn't matter to you anymore?
oooh... does it matter now? NO???
so why, oh why, do i, by instinct, keep on groping for these little things everytime i see them? why do i close my eyes shut, bow my head, fold my hands in prayer?
why am i readily able to let go of those fluffs, but not of anything else?
..............
OF ANYTHING ELSE!!!! why can't i? why keep on hoping for something real vague and... way too impossible?
how come i realize such, yet can't do anything about it?
do tell me.. do i have to do ANYTHING else? or have i done too much... enough to let go?
DEAR READER,
This blog site is no more used by the writer.
Please proceed to his NEW SITE if you're still interested at what's happening to him.
However, if you persist...
click on this icon.
THANKS. If you want to dig deeper into his past... Click here.
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