January 2011
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Today --
Jamie, Tata, and all the other BFA ID majors exhibit. Sobrang ganda, I’m ashamed I’ve never made anything so beautiful myself. And I saw her children’s book! if she starts a publishing company *coughcough* then I want to be a writer for that!
Had dinner with Pao in the regular tapsihan. the things we want are never in congruence with what we have and looking for ways to keep...
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Today --
Spent 29 Jan 2011 in my room. Everything on auto-pilot.
My mother made chicken
Barbecued after a few hours of soaking up soy sauce and other good things, there was no one home (aside from me) to appreciate it. Tonight, I sliced thin pieces of the breast part and arranged them atop two pieces of sliced bread spread with pizza sauce. I added cheese and toasted it. Dinner!
My mother hosted something of a dinner party at our (small) house today. She just got off the phone with her three visitors, after driving them out to the curb of the highway. In a high pitched voice that carried up our narrow stairs, down the hallway, and into my room, she explained how she completely forgot to give them some of the pasta. I heard her repeat the story at least twice to each...
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Another old poem
Some Sound v.2
We are quiet now
as you pile the blankets on your legs
and push your head back into a pillow.
We are children hiding from monsters, still,
but they have climbed upon our bed.
You fall asleep, mouth agape,
and I knock against the stillness of your body.
I almost ask if you have come home.
You did not have dinner tonight
instead, over coffee, you ate your words
and...
“A Filipino may denationalize himself but not his stomach. He may travel over the...”
– From the essay: Where Is The Patis? by Carmen Guerrero Nakpil (via cold-nostalgia)
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