on re-living
today was the most unproductive day i've ever had during my post-graduate course. i was irresponsible, and i loved every minute of it.
usually, this is how a normal day goes: i leave home at around 11am, have coffee in starbucks until around 1pm (or 2:30pm, depending on what time i arrive or how much readings i need to digest), buy food in agno, smoke, then wait for a vacant table on miguel walk so that i can take advantage of the free wifi. i browse from 2:30 to 6pm.
today, i received a text from faw, saying that she and euan were in harrison and asking if i wanted to have lunch with them. i still had to read two thick handouts and make sentence outlines about them for my 6pm class, but to hell with that. tita dropped me off at the tayuman station LRT. i rode a jeep to harrison and met up with faw and euan. faw was christmas shopping for her nephews and nieces, while euan was trying hard to stay awake.
we played pictionary using a display of magnetic sketcher in the toy section while faw was picking gifts. euan and i have also come to the conclusion that sm harrison's 3rd floor was *extremely* unstable. a minor quake can be induced by just running on the aisles.
we ate at max's at about 2pm. there was talk on how we would spend the next few hours, and we settled on prov (!!!). i had a runny nose, but that didn't stop me from belting out my classic hits (haha!)
we parted ways at about 5pm. i went to starbucks to meet up with some classmates, then we proceeded to class. after class, i had dinner with classmates and i went home.
a few things happened before, during, and after class, but i'm not at liberty to talk about it yet.
let's just say that it was like 2004 all over again.
. - + - .
i hold the first Henson Anthology of World Literature in my hands, and i'm remembering.
in the spirit of remembrance, i would like to re-post a couple of poems:
Three Oddest Words
Wislawa Szymborska
When I say the word Future
The First syllable already belongs to the past.
When I say the word Silence
I destroy its meaning.
When I say the word Nothing
I create something no nonbeing can hold.
. - + - .
Si Kristo sa Impiyerno
Allan Popa (mula sa Kami sa Lahat ng Masama)
Walang alinlangan ang kaniyang mga hakbang.
Nakapaglakad siya sa ibabaw ng tubig.
Hindi siya lulubog sa apoy.
Sa kaniyang paligid, nagsisiksikan sa kumunoy
Ang mga kaluluwang nagpupumiglas
Upang mapanatili sa ibabaw ang mukha.
Kinakapitan nila ang isa't-isa upang lumutang.
Nilulunod and kinakapitan.
Ngunit walang sinuman ang nalulunod.
Waring nakadama si Kristo ng pagkalula
Sa alaala ng kaitaasan.
Marahang tumapak siya sa mga ulo
Habang pilit inaabot ng maraming kamay
ang kaniyang laylayan.
Ngunit wala silang mahawakan
Kundi salita.
. - + - .
One Art
Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something everyday. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring diaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-las of three loved hourses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
. - + - .
The Red Poppy
Louise Glück
The great thing
is not having
a mind. Feelings:
oh, I have those; they
govern me. I have
a lord in heaven
called the sun, and open
for him, showing him
the fire of my heart, fire
like his presence.
What could such glory be
if not a heart? Oh my brothers and
sisters,
were you like me once, long ago,
before you were human? Did you
permit yourselves
to open once, who would never
open again? Because in truth
I am speaking now
the way you do. I speak
because I am shattered.
. - + - .
(i left out The Quiet World and Other Lives and Dimensions and Finally A Love Poem because the former has already been posted by Dandi (who I think is re-living her own sweet times) and the latter I have posted a few months back. can't get too much exposure to the good thing.)
it's fun to be in 2004 all over again.