I Do Not Love You

You can say what you want -- Neruda's overrated, he's pop poetry etc. etc. But try listening to this particular poem in your Ipod with Andy Garcia reciting it, and I'll bet -- you'll be quoting it too.

I Do Not Love You

by Pablo Neruda

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

that this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

your voice over the wires came leaping

A Poem by e.e. cummings

your little voice
      		     Over the wires came leaping
and i felt suddenly
dizzy
     With the jostling and shouting of merry flowers
wee skipping high-heeled flames
courtesied before my eyes
                         or twinkling over to my side
Looked up
with impertinently exquisite faces
floating hands were laid upon me
I was whirled and tossed into delicious dancing
up
Up
with the pale important
                       stars and the Humorous
                                             moon
dear girl
How i was crazy how i cried when i heard
                                        over time
and tide and death
leaping
Sweetly
       your voice

Swimming Closer To You

The best thing about traveling is that it gives you perspective. When you're on a little speedboat, with miles and miles of sea embracing you on all sides, and gigantic limestone cliffs loom up ahead, and the sky is flung wide open above you, well, it's a splendid reminder that not everything is about you. You are not the center of the universe. There is something bigger and infinitely more to your life than your problems.

And just like that, all the cares that have hovered in your head just magically melt away.

I was lucky enough to be yanked out of my sadness just a couple of years back. You know how, in the movies, when the main character is depressed or in turmoil, they just throw everything away for a trip far, far away?

I was blessed enough to be whisked away to Palawan, at the very time when I needed it most. And with my best friend, no less.

At first, I remember whining and complaining to Mia about the stupidest things, focusing yet again on myself, even though I was surrounded by such stunning scenery. I remember being so hung up with thoughts of the "dirty, numb angel boy," that all I wanted to do was sleep in the cottage, even as the day beckoned in all its glory.

But then I remember, the exact, precise moment, when everything just became OK. It started with the the short visit to the old Fort that fronted the sea. We were in the group that included Tourism Secretary Ace Durano, and this Japanese businessman who was interested in investing money to upgrade the Palawan airport.

Mia and I were laughing our heads off imagining that we'd try to impress the Jap dude with the little Nippongo we had learned in college.

"Shinbun desu ne?" (That's a newspaper, isn't it?)

or
"Neko desu wa?" (Is that a cat?)

"Iiye, enpitsu desu." (No, it's a pencil.)

Anyway, we finally boarded a double-deck boat back to the resort. We were sitting at the top seats, cocktails were being served, people were making small talk.

Mia and I we were in one corner, analyzing our troubled situations for the 657th time -- trying to make sense of why our lives were such a mess.

And then the sun began to set -- a blaze of orange, and red and all these brilliant crimson colors. The wind whipped our hair. The sea stretched for miles on end. We took a sip of the ice cold beer in our hands. And it was Just. So. Beautiful.

Like beautiful that it will take your breath away. So beautiful that you want to cry because you had no idea that anything could be that perfect.

And just like that. All our cares evaporated.

"Ok na 'to. Wala naman palang problema eh."

Hahaha.

That being said, Lord, I think I need to go away again.

Thank God sembreak is a couple of weeks away.


Time to hit the beach.

Dear Loser Ariane and Epal Allan

Was about to go to bed, but for some reason I thought I'd go online for a little bit. There were the usual updates from Multiply friends -- the Atenean ones posting about the Blue Eagle Bonfire. It was funny, an overwhelming number of them decided to comment on the Putik Patch, formerly known as Bellarmine Field. Mia and I didn't even bother to stay around long enough to

There were some emails from work, which I promptly deleted (haha just kidding), there were some updates on the sites I frequented -- postsecret.com, Cecile Zamora's blog, and some other useless trifles that I enjoy so much.

Finally, there was a message from two friends which sent me typing this blog -- from Ariane, who told me she was officially leaving on Oct. 22, and from Sheryl, who told me that Allan was also leaving soon.

I've been friends with Ariane and Allan since I was 17, which makes our friendship just one year short of a decade. The proximity has helped fuel and sustain it -- anytime we wanted to get together for a spaghetti afternoon, an all-night dvd marathon, family dinner, spur of the moment "inuman", they were always just a phone call and a couple of blocks away.

But now, well. New York and Dubai will not accommodate our little get-togethers so well. And I realized, it is the small things that I will miss over the next couple of months. Random phone calls. Biking and barbecue days. Tree-planting (!), Last minute lending of clothes, money, food, time, energy, advice and sanity. As Tom Cruise said in Vanilla Sky, "The little things... there's nothing bigger, is there?"

Coincidentally, my cousin from New York sent me over some songs from Fab Moretti's new band "Little Joy." The nicest one is called "Brand New Start," a sweet little track that is now the soundtrack to this entry.

So there. This is a Brand New Start, for both you, and for me as well. And for everyone whose lives intertwined with yours (this means you Sheryl).

Even though I regularly call you losers, "epal" and other similar terms of endearment, let me say for the record, I will miss you.