Friday, July 16, 2010

thoughts 01

Ever since I read a little about Jessica Zafra's works, I just wanted to stop writing and just read her works on and on.
Now I can't understand why and what made me write again. Perhaps, the way she writes inspires me.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

over a cup of coffee

After hours of feeling miserable because of colds, I decided to enjoy a cup of coffee.
Unlike the tablet I took, coffee seemed to have an immediate effect on me. I felt better and my headache went away.
I was already thinking about not attending my three scheduled lectures this afternoon. The thought of taking a nap appealed tremendously and somehow I know I wanted it.
Checking my temperature is a constant, so when it gets nasty, I have a good excuse. Darn, I'm lazy.
But I guess I will have to deal with another crazy afternoon. That's what lazy people like me must do, otherwise I should probably start accepting the fact that an umbrella becomes part of a girl's life during the rainy season. So I will not be sick. But I want to be sick. So, I will never (and I will deliberately forget about bringing an umbrella) ever have anything to do with an umbrella. Even if you give me a yellow umbrella with all the yellowbells that this world can ever have.
Oh well, I just want to be sick so I can wish I am not sick.
And I am wishing for that right now.

My new ikat bag

The closest I can get to the fire along Rizal Avenue

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Fire

I am a moth. That I had to tell myself after noticing I was getting as close as I can to the scene of the fire along Rizal Avenue. From where I stood, there were five fire trucks visible to me. From where I stood, there were a lot of onlookers.
Genuine excitement was what I felt as I stare at the thick smoke moving quickly up the building. In my eyes, the most gorgeous firemen were all over the place. Well, that's what heroes look like to me. Hmmm. Anyway, I took pictures (tomorrow they will be uploaded) of my first close encounter with that kind of situation.
Fire drills were so much different. The real thing has more action. It brings more excitement. The sight of the smoke makes me want to keep inhaling to assure myself I don't run out of oxygen. I even tripped several times (and my new sandals got undeserved scratches) while trying to get near the firetrucks.
After spending fifteen minutes walking to and fro, and taking some pictures, I left. I don't want to entertain thoughts about why the fire happened and how long it will take to put it under control. That's got to be the job of super-smart, super-cool people. I am just a moth today, attracted by the fire. A smart moth, I know I must not be close enough so I won't burn.
I initially wanted to buy Baguio Calligraphy, a book with compilation of poems. Unfortunately, the only copy left at the bookstore wasn't there anymore. So I settled for Bienvenido N. Santos' book : Letters.
Ever since I got a copy of I love you, Ronnie by Nancy Reagan, my liking for reading letters meant for someone else became more evident.
Everytime I read a letter, I always fall into believing that there is a hint of honesty in it. Honesty. Crap. Letters.Crap.
But I still love reading them. Oh crap!