I wrote a couple of poems when I stayed in last Friday night.  The reason why I write gains more depth the more I come to terms with my swirling thoughts and emotions.  It’s how I make sense and make peace. 

Thank you to my muse (in more ways than inspiration).

*****

On Thinking Too Much

There’s a pebble in my shoe
that tries not to be too loud.

At first,
I caught it giggling.

Then it started to gossip.

Then it grew tired, and started to sigh.

“Excuse me,” I said.
“What are you doing there?”

It looked at me.

Thumped,
sighed,
and buried
itself even
deeper.

I followed it,
trying to find out
where it came from,
and how
to remove it.

It burrowed in the sole
of my shoe,
I couldn’t find it.

I was walking,
limping,
unsteady.

I grew tired.

And stopped.
Inhaled.
Removed my shoes.

And ran.

- MPN 2008

Some of the PKN Manila vol. 1 slideshows were featured on the Slideshare website!

This morning, as I was off to work, one of my neighbors asked me, “Papasok ka na sa opisina?”

Looking at myself, cap, slippers, wildly colorful blouse and college-days pants, I realized I didn’t quite look like your regular office drone.  And thinking about the office, and my teammates (I can’t bring myself to call the gang officemates, somehow), and how homey and relaxed the office is, I said something like, “Going to the office is just an excuse to hang out.  So we don’t actually go to work, we just go to the office to make tambay.”

Hehe.

…that breeding is something you’re born with?  Check out Peewee, the classiest askal a.k.a. mongrel I’ve ever seen.  Whenever I see her, she’s sitting with her front paws crossed before her, her head held regally high.  When I took this shot, she noticed me posturing in the distance, and she snobbishly turned her head away.  Hehe.

Five albums in all, with about sixty photos in each (with the exception of the last album) is what kept me busy last Sunday evening.  Going through all the photos brought back a rush of very happy memories.  Check them out here: Album 1, Album 2, Album 3, Album 4, Album 5.

Staying in today (because of the storm outside), I took to writing a letter to one of my host parents in CT.  It just struck me how different writing with a pen is from typing on a keyboard.  Of course, the act of writing (and on a pretty notecard, no less) would be more deliberate.  I noticed how I would carefully form my thoughts and words before putting them down on paper.  And seeing the trail of words, with their loops (I’ve got a loopy, script-like print) and twists seems to spur on even more lines.  I found myself reaching the end of the notecard without having said much, but having two well-formed paragraphs of musings.  I find it amazing that we have all of these half-formed thoughts floating in our heads, and that bleeding them out with ink (ew, that doesn’t make such a pretty scene), and reading them seems to help us acquaint ourselves further with–well, ourselves.  I could go on and on about what’s happened, with the everyday updates of commonplace (and sometimes not so) existence.  But I have to admit I haven’t been paying much attention to the little burning thoughts that dance around and cast shadows in my mind.  Penning words feels like a good release.   Now I look forward to writing more notes. 

I think I have one of the most scatterbrained minds.  Thoughts fly by, and a gazillion big ideas just pop in my head.  I’m grateful to be surrounded by people patient enough to listen to my crazy dreams, and be crazy enough with me.  And somehow, some of these harebrained ideas have stuck around long enough to come to reality.  Others just sit on the shelf and come jumping at me when I find myself nestling in complacency.

Half the time though, I am amazed and frustrated by everything I want to do, and everything that needs to be done.  And so, with feet on the ground, I reach for the sky…and find myself stretched beyond certain limits.

It’s like being in a perpetual state of ADHD.

I am beginning to appreciate though, the silence of sitting down and simmering; of letting thoughts and ideas marinate a bit more (I think I’m getting hungry…).  Of allowing these thoughts and ideas to ripen.

I think…I have to write again. 

We stumbled upon these words at the Rockefeller Center.  And they just resonate for me. 

*****
“I believe in the supreme worth of the individual and in his right to
life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

I believe that every right implies a responsibility; every
opportunity, an obligation; every possession, a duty.

I believe that the law was made for man and not man for the law; that
government is the servant of the people and not their master.

I believe in the dignity of labor, whether with head or hand; that the
world owes no man a living but that it owes every man an opportunity
to make a living.

I believe that thrift is essential to well ordered living and that
economy is a prime requisite of a sound financial structure, whether
in government, business or personal affairs.

I believe that truth and justice are fundamental to an enduring social
order.

I believe in the sacredness of a promise, that a man’s word should be
as good as his bond; that character — not wealth or power or position
– is of supreme worth.

I believe that the rendering of useful service is the common duty of
mankind and that only in the purifying fire of sacrifice is the dross
of selfishness consumed and the greatness of the human soul set free.

I believe in an all-wise and all-loving God, named by whatever name,
and that the individual’s highest fulfillment, greatest happiness, and
widest usefulness are to be found in living in harmony with His will.

I believe that love is the greatest thing in the world; that it alone
can overcome hate; that right can and will triumph over might.”

*****

Sitting back in the office, the past month seems surreal.  And life seems too hectic to look back.

Once upon a time, I had a cute, fluffy kitten at the apartment. She played, pooped and purred, and massaged you with her paws (like when they purr and get all gigil and stuff like that). She was frisky and scruffy, and had sad amber eyes. Then one day, she disappeared. I think Angel took this photo sometime ago. Just uncovered it while going over old image files. I mishoo, Kitty-chan.

This kitten’s got something up it’s sleeve.  I love it.  Photography by Berns de Leon.