25 June 2007
24 June 2007
Spinach (or 2 promotions)
The discovery of a new dish confers more happiness on humanity, than the discovery of a new star.Just came from Fete de la Musique in Malate. I only went there because my brother was playing; but like any trip (long or short) I make, the universe and I seem to elicit sweetness from it.
—Brillat-Savarin, The Physiology Of Taste
First, I discovered the band, Eternal Now, which reminded of Dream Theater. I can't find any link about them, but I promise their music is laudable.
And the highlight of the day: I fell in love with spinach. Well, maybe because it's Cafe Adriatico's spinach. I actually wouldn't notice there were green leafies in the calamari dish had Audrey, the vegetarian friend of my brother, not munched on it.
It was raining and drizzling the whole day, but bringing my umbrella didn't cross my mind, since we left home with the car. My brother still had some place else to go with his friends, so I decided to part with him and head straight home. It's a nice night to watch the rest of my burned DVDs. I took one of the two big umbrellas in the car. It felt good to hold a strong umbrella against the rain.
22 June 2007
Third person
Dinner with Dennis for the second time. Coming out of the ladies' room, I had the urge to admire him with the distance. He glanced at the girl across our table. Dennis and I—now both unaware of time—had our sight fixed on breathing objects. I would not have been jealous had the girl looked back at him with intention. She remained stolid; her attention absolute to her book.
17 June 2007
God's unsents, 2
4
Starlights die across human sight as secrets die between your breath and mine.
5
Born from a rumor of senses, my truth will never get past your skin.
6
I am not a writer. I hurt reading a world that cannot read itself.
7
The word is, in the end, mortal.
Starlights die across human sight as secrets die between your breath and mine.
5
Born from a rumor of senses, my truth will never get past your skin.
6
I am not a writer. I hurt reading a world that cannot read itself.
7
The word is, in the end, mortal.
08 June 2007
Dedication fantasies
A person has reached my heart as I start writing dedications to him in my imagination and it's not Christmas and it's no one's birthday.
07 June 2007
Accident's accuracy
The morning's tough. Waking up at 5:30 AM from a 3-hour sleep, waiting in line for 2 hours at the SSS, going back home to prepare to go to work, then commuting to work is exhausting as expected. A brief pause will make the 8-hour office routine manageable.
A mango tea shake is pause enough.
I drop by the nearest coffee house an hour before the call-in time. I look around for the best chair, until my name is called. A group of officemates are having their weekly bible study.
I join in the study: to learn for the first time how fans of faith and humility are the same backbiting personas; to look in the eye a belief I cannot fit myself in. "He worked in my life. He really did." I nod and nod in acknowledgement, not in agreement.
Yet I meet them in that place of believing there is a reason why we are gathered here. I am given that reason when the story of Jesus to be executed with two criminals is told.
To Jesus, one of the criminals asks, "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us." The other says, "Remember me when you come into your kingdom."
I never ask anyone to remember me. I work to be remembered.
A voice, declaring I won't be forgotten, starts to chime.
A mango tea shake is pause enough.
I drop by the nearest coffee house an hour before the call-in time. I look around for the best chair, until my name is called. A group of officemates are having their weekly bible study.
I join in the study: to learn for the first time how fans of faith and humility are the same backbiting personas; to look in the eye a belief I cannot fit myself in. "He worked in my life. He really did." I nod and nod in acknowledgement, not in agreement.
Yet I meet them in that place of believing there is a reason why we are gathered here. I am given that reason when the story of Jesus to be executed with two criminals is told.
To Jesus, one of the criminals asks, "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us." The other says, "Remember me when you come into your kingdom."
I never ask anyone to remember me. I work to be remembered.
A voice, declaring I won't be forgotten, starts to chime.
05 June 2007
God's unsents, 1
1
You pray for one person's safety with the very reason why another person's praying for yours.
2
Rest in knowing you are forever alone bearing troubles no one will ever understand or know.
3
Secrets outlast starlights.
You pray for one person's safety with the very reason why another person's praying for yours.
2
Rest in knowing you are forever alone bearing troubles no one will ever understand or know.
3
Secrets outlast starlights.
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