Remembering how we started

I just binged Good Morning Call, a live-action J Drama chronicling a campus love story. As a result I am feeling nostalgic. Continue reading “Remembering how we started”

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Entanglement, Imogen Heap

Detail of BenCab’s “Lovers”
#love #valentinesday #lovers #art #artph #painting #kiss

Lost Notes

Little notes on my blackberry

1.

even now, i still feel a little happy something when a stranger passes by bearing a whiff of the cheap perfume you would spray on when we were in college. those were great times and you were so cute. it reminds me of first love and how you and I were learning the ropes, trying so hard (you more than me) and basically just so new to the whole concept of… enjoining someone.

now we have the comfort of old people. you play plants and zombies and I pad away on my blackberry. under the table our knees are touching casually. it feels great to be like this and to have this with you.-

2.

libog- sa pagsusulat tinuturing na mahusay ang libog ang nasa ang pagkilala sa sinusulat.

3.

There might really be no stories in waiting.

Now would I want to witness, in freefall pov, a dark, en masse sort of wait such as this: 

Orderly, weary, lines of people who faced computers all day,

now hungry, now ruffled, now dispirited, now finally some quiet, but lacking in peace and the lucid reflections of typical streams of consciousness. This is just exhaustion. 

If thoughts had corpulent versions, wispy clouds of literature over our heads, it would be of dinner, impatience, rest, domestic disarray to come home to.

And actually this is the sad part, where the person feels mildly successful for being able to call it a day. It is a pretense of escape, though it is not as bad as the bright morning w/c is a perennial battle of wills.

4.

sofas, tv shows, cinema reviews. idyll and warm tummies after a day spent eating isaw, then mushrooms then pepper balls.

my head on ur lap. your hand slowly stroking my hair, touching face and eyes and lips absentmindedly at intervals.

your wonder-filled statement, as if u still cant believe ‘your hair is so soft.’ even after all these years?

it feels so good and i cant help falling into a sleepy semi-conscious state even as I want to commit this moment into the eternal repository of positive memories.

there should be stars for great wars like ours. #poem #love #book #quote

First time they held hands.

I’m in a very “highschool” mood :} I re-watched some scenes. Best in “business” lahat ng characters whilst these two are busy, I noticed 😀

L.♥.L

Everyone wants to tell, or to claim, the story of falling in love, by its most societal conventions.

I’m thinking of a love story again, but I don’t know how to begin writing it. I want it to be about the special interaction and “secret language” of a happy, destined couple, but I need to gain more new ideas before I can finish my “What if” sentence. What if the Language of Love where an academic subject that one has to pass or fail? What if being married means having to learn a certain code of words? What if finding “Love” means a journey towards a proverbial/literal yellow brick road where one has to unlock a certain door, talk to certain rabbi, and get blessed with a few spells and incantations and be allowed to speak in tongues of Love?

When one writes of love, one wants to tell the story of a man and a woman’s interaction, their language, their “reverie” – the impervious bubble that makes them see everything from a shiny, separated space; that makes them defensible against any rebut or severance. One wants to write of how it changes them, for good and for bad, of its possibilities, its endless effects, its ability to persist day after day and decade after decade. It is an archetype, an event as common as birth and death, and yet it’s something of which the manners of retelling have not been exhausted yet. It is something which will always be different for everyone, and despite all humankind’s supposed familiarity with it, when it occurs on a personal level, it astonishes: it opens up a new way of understanding things, it makes the person understand the meaning of something which he or she has never been aware of before.

On my mindset: when two people fall in love, they develop a shared language of their own, when they are successful in their endeavor to commit, to be productive, and to be each other’s companion, they can understand each other, confide, advise, forgive – all in a way that will be unique to their union. As humans always keenly aware of the limits of our physical mind, it is an achievement to be able to conquer another mind, to be able to understand it in a way as near-personal as being the other individual itself. This cognizance – probably we discern it as the closest thing possible to divine understanding, which we must inherently seek (as we always have had since Adam and Eve’s dilemma). This under all the trappings of affection and romance. I guess love – and the willingness to surrender one’s mind-trappings to another person – is what can make this possible.

In spite of myself, lately, I find myself taking on a vaguely too-intellectual (if not rambling) perspective on romance. 😐 Which is bad as I do intend to make a living by being a voice on pop culture – where love is discussed in a highly mushy and stereotypical nuance. But it might work to be different, yes? Let’s see. Just taking note so that my subconscious can begin working on that language of love plot. Harharhar.