we all have lists

a things-to-do-before-i-die list. a bucket list. blacklist. bluelist. well i have my own list when traveling to a different country. my top 3 travel musts where most, if not all, of my memorable and fascinating experiences stem from.

number 1. meet the people
number 2. taste the food
number 3. go to the supermarket

a colorful interaction with the locals say so much about the country i'm visiting. it is the people that make the place after all. street chow or a plate of fancy cuisine, more than the usual tourist attractions, reflect the country's unique culture and history. but a trip to the supermarket gives a peek to the everyday life that's almost hidden from the average traveler. the ordinariness that is normally overlooked when one is too focused on the places-i-have-to-see-in-this-country list. and so wherever my feet have taken me, from the prosciutto filled shops of italy to the spice scented stores of india, i have gladly indulged myself to these visits.

one sunny afternoon, somewhere in south san francisco, my happy feet took a stroll down to the grocery store. as soon as i stepped inside trader joe's, it was love at first visit.

if you haven't been inside any trader joe's, well let me tell you, almost everything inside is oozing with healthy goodness. organic ice cream to low sodium potato chips to strawberry yogurt covered cereals. and yes they taste really good.

i can spend hours walking down the aisles while i marvel at the assortment cheese and chocolates. in a land where everything is super-sized, here is a breath of fresh air. trader joe's has become my happy place.

as if that weren't enough, they make the cutest bags. as i've done the past 4 years, i brought my own. but since i shopped more than necessary, i was more than happy to purchase another one.

now excuse me as i prepare tonight's dinner ~ shrimp in thai red curry sauce and soyaki mixed vegetables.

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Now playing: Modern English - I Melt With You
via FoxyTunes

on the road again

three weeks of travel. four more to go. stories to tell. but for now, i'll let the pictures do the talking.

it dawns on me

it's not that i don't like the city. there are plenty of things to love about it. like street corners and old buildings. museums and ice cream parlours. neon lights and empty streets in the dead of the night. but not this city. try as i might to work out reasons to belong, i feel lost at the end of the day.

i miss my island and yet i don't feel the urge to go running back in order to belong. it is this strange feeling which fascinates & comforts me, knowing i have found home at last. but being here, in this city, i feel a displacement of sorts. there are people here that i truly love and yet there is nothing here for my soul.

is this what it means to have the heart of a nomad?

the kindness of strangers

is an odd, baffling and heartwarming thing. it is also something i have not felt in recent weeks. i must be getting spoiled. it's a strange feeling to miss.

i am half asleep as i think this, half awake as i write. but i am getting off the bed for a quick minute as i remember that glorious fish masala in the pot. that certainly needs to be put in the fridge for further consumption.

the moon is halfway across the indigo sky. and here i am still thinking about food.

when in manila

leave.

i have always felt that manila's this huge airport terminal. like i'm forever in transit when i'm in this city, wordlessly seeing other travelers pass me by as i wait for the next journey. so it's no big surprise that in 3 whole weeks (3 days were spent in la union/5 days in hk/another 3 days in la union) i was actually out if it half the time. though i have grown from tolerating to liking it (and even enjoying certain parts of it), how can i, a natural born beachbaby, say no to, well, the beach.

so off to la union we went where the waves beckoned.

top to bottom: LOVE my rvca boardshorts; wave watching; surf happy; clockwise: after the surf; the making of a big bad bruise; an attempt to mimic the gangsta surfer; surfmaid's "garage"

though i brought my waterproof cam that weekend, there were none of those photos of us surfing. why? because everyone was in the water surfing their brains out.

what better way to end this surf trip than riding off into the sunset.

i've got mail

look what arrived in the mail today.

my la pomme goodies from provence! finally after two weeks i rip this much awaited package open & out comes the most heavenly of scents. christmas has come early!

out comes my sleep angels, lavender scented dream dolls filled with this season's crop of sweet-smelling dried lavender flowers from Provence.

and my bilingual cloves, linen ornaments stuffed with cloves & star anise, with customized words love, truth and light. in english and in french.

as if these weren't enough, apol (la pomme creator) has tucked in another cutie, a gift for being her first customer from her homeland, the philippines. yup, these babies are made with love by a filipina.

thanks apol! my new la pomme lovelies have quickly found their own corners in my home. :)

i am peter pan

i will always be a child in so many ways. it was a teacher who has said it first, you are an old soul. frankly it took me by surprise. i have thought myself as new to this world. i've always held a lot of fascination for the ordinariness of things. i have the eternal wonder in me as if i'm always seeing things for the first time. then i started to think, maybe it's true. that my soul, ancient, has gone through childhood in so many lifetimes that i remember it with graceful ease.

which is why this halloween i went as peter pan. not as the boy who never grew up. but as someone who vows to be forever young.

there comes certain points in our lives when we stop and realize that we are in the middle of nowhere. oftentimes we lose our way simply because we've forgotten who we are. i've suffered through a drawn-out quarter life crisis agonizing over not knowing who i was and where i was going. years have taught me that the answer wasn't out there. so i drilled down to the deepest place i could find within me and like peter pan, i realized i was not young enough to know everything.

thus i started being a kid again. i rediscovered old favorites and more importantly, i started remembering the things that made me happy as a child. i remembered my dreams which were sorrily dismissed somewhere along the road to being an adult. it's ironic how we couldn't wait to grow up and learn to become this amazing person, when we've had what it takes all along. as grown-ups we have learned to fear and hesitate on the brink of our goals. we've simply forgotten that no dream is too impossible, too wonderful to be real.

this journey of unlearning continues today.

if you find yourself lost or at the crossroads, remember. go back to that place where all our happy thoughts live. which way to neverland? second to the right and straight on till morning!

hope wins

i've had no televison these last 3 and a half years. no regular csi marathons, no glimpses of reality tv as they like to call the irony, no flashing neon box sitting in a corner of my room. for 3 and a half years i've enjoyed this peace and quiet, my own definition of luxury. some have said i've disconnected myself from the world. which is funny because i've never felt so connected before as much as i have now now. mornings come and i don't see celebrity gossip or hear the latest balita (news). instead i see the light changing its colors. i know if it's a good day for the surfers to ride their kite or if it's a morning i'd like to swim in the beach. i wake up with my own thoughts for the day, reinforced by my own positivity. on days which aren't as good, i wake up dealing with my own battles. i believe that the news that really matter will come to me anyway and come they have. from the the pertinent (obama is president! - an sms from my aunt in virginia the very minute he was proclaimed) to the the entertaining bits that hardly tip the scales (angelina jolie's having twins! - my mom).

this tube-less existence isn't apathy towards what's happening in the planet nor cynicism towards the people that run it. it's simply a choice that i've made. i choose to listen to stories of people whose actions make a difference, no matter how big or small; of people who have the same compassion and desire to change this world beginning with themselves. while i find a handful of tv series (straight from dvds!) wildly amusing, nothing entertains me more than real stories from friends i've known since high waist maong (jeans) were all the rage; to island folks who've chosen to live simply and therefore largely; and from beautiful strangers i've met here & in my travels. these are tales that make the fiber of everyday existence. more than anything, they are constant reminders that there's still more humanness in this world than is being shown in that box.



so when a story of gigantic magnitude reflects the same values, the whole world is up on its feet. barack obama's victory has not only made history in terms of color, race & number. he's had the whole world of hopefuls rooting for him, wishing that they too could vote. his win is a testament of a world crying out for change. in a time of disbelief, he united those who still had faith running in their veins, the same group of individuals across the continents who've been making a difference in their own little ways. the collective result is a miracle made possible not by gods, but by human beings.

what i have learned in these last 3 and a half years is that we are all connected. that whatever pockets of negativity we carry contribute to the disease that ails our planet. that whatever bursts of joy and love we bring continue to heal this affliction. what so many of us fail to realize is that it is hope why we still walk despite being wounded. because if there isn't any (as the jaded would love to rally), then why not drop dead and cease to exist? why go on, i mean really, if this life isn't worth saving? there's always hope tucked in the dustiest corners of our hearts. so long as we continue to breathe, hope lives.

i'm not saying or implying that you get rid of your tv :) what works for me may not work for everyone else. but i think that we all have our own personal televisions we can give up in exchange for something real. a life without it has not made me apathetic to the issues, rather it has made me more compassionate. i didn't ditch it because i became cynical, but because i wanted to be more optimistic. when i decided to stop watching it was then that i started seeing how things really are.

open up your mind & see like me

one of my favorite songs of the moment is jason mraz's i'm yours. there's something to its lyrics & melody that radiates such positivity & lightness which so attracts me to it. which is why i play it on most mornings. it reminds me of the box i used to live in and the charmed life i'm living now, and the one thing that bridged the distance between the two. an open mind.

there used to be so much fear in me and all that made this life impossible. until i realized that imagination is indeed everything.

and so i wake up with the sun's first rays painting my window. i walk on sand & breathe the air that tells me i'm surrounded by the ocean. i live amongst people who see the essence of living simply & largely at the same time. i end my day with sunsets, moonrises & star spattered skies. and when i look up i hug my knees because i'm thankful. for this life is truly beautiful.

almost 4 years on the island and still i find the magic in everyday things.

shine on me

since the day i opened my window, the wind has blown more than dust into my life. strange & beautiful moments for instance. i watch them unfold in my windowless sky with eyes wide open. i have learned to lay down and gaze at the fireworks & stardust as they light up before me without the need to freeze the moment. instead i let the string of moments pass. time is but an infinite line.

photo by the happy factory

i live in the best place a girl like me could ever ask for. i dreamt of this when i was little until i realized that some dreams are never outgrown. i think it is in this way that we become eternally childlike.

i love this island because it made me embrace my restless soul and understand that not all who wander are lost. i like how living here has made me feel more connected with the world outside & within. there are little things that always remind me life is beautiful. like celebrating the night of the full moon each month. a few nights ago we were dancing in a little shack by the beach while rain poured around us. in the light of the moon we sang with friends & strangers, forgetting our differences, remembering that what we have in common is greater than what sets us apart. no borders lay before us that night. we were bound, as we are, by silver threads that connect everything in this world.

truth is always the heart of the matter. whether we choose to look away or not, neil patrick harris will always be gay. smoking cigarettes can kill. that the world does not stop for our grief. and some chocolates are indeed better than sex. but there is no greater truth than love that is unconditional. pure love. that is what i believe in. it is what i strive for my self. then we realize that having a partner to love in the same degree (and who loves you back in mind-blowing proportions) is a freaking bonus.

that night my friend rico said "don't believe everything i say - i'm full of shit". that's his take and he's downright honest with it. eventually we realize there is no need for masks, silly little playthings that they are. that what we have tried to hide & run away from is what we would one day seek. we define our own truths after all. and there is nothing greater for the soul than this.

think about it

i don't think love is sweeter the 2nd, 3rd or nth time around. i think we are the ones who get better at it. love has always been perfect.

neal donald walsch said that there are only two forces in this world from which we operate from. love & fear. i agree. this does not dismiss the other constant things like hurt & destruction, desire & sacrifice. but it cuts through them and defines each one for what it truly is, simplifying everything in life we've managed to complicate. since stumbling upon this discovery i have been asking this question each time i find myself in a dilemma or on the brink of a life-changing decision, what will love have me do?

forever young

smiles that lit up my night

everybody loves pizza

everyone here is ageless

because i truly believe that age is a number, a reason for small talk & an unreliable measure of one's maturity. gabriel garcia marquez summed it up perfectly when he said age is not how old you are but how old you feel. and on this island where the beach is our playground, the sun sea & wind our way of life and every single day is a celebration, everyone can't help but feel young.

of rice fields & lullabyes

i'm nestled in the middle of rice fields, in the middle of nowhere, like a bird that has made its nest for the night. the frogs croak & the fan whirs me a lullaby. i am no longer a stranger in a strange land. i walk the earth, fly & touch a piece of the distant sky if i could. there must be too much of the wind in me.

always moving, always sailing. constant like the changing moon.

bali high

i love bali. absolutely love it. suffice to say i'm coming back :)

untitled

The afternoon sun is setting as she leafs through her book, through pages that murmur sadness, elements that make her lose track of time. She looks up and suddenly the sky has turned indigo. The water echoes the same hue, the color before her broken only by the thin blue line of the horizon that looks anything but fragile. She gazes at the sky in bliss, her fingers wanting to rip the blueness of it. One moment of perfection, one moment of anguish. Her bowl of soup comes, steaming with fish goodness. She wonders what roots her to this moment, to the ten thousand moments of sameness in her life. She wonders what makes her stay and what makes her go. The answers are here somewhere, she thinks, covered in indigo light, between pages of fiction, within the depths of hot & sour soup. She looks for it but it escapes her, like steam rising out of the bowl and up in the air, into the blackness of the night, curling itself around the silver of the moon.

human threads

30 minutes, 3 martinis later, bored & still sober, i gazed down at the 80 or so bodies that moved below me & wondered if anyone out there was truly happy. i wondered if they put on the dress, dabbed the perfume on their necks solely for themselves. i wondered how many were really dancing without mind nor care of anyone watching. i wondered how many out there were like me, longing for something out of reach. i could see the tinge of wanting illuminated under the pulsing neon lights. i realized that save for a flight of stairs & a huge glass window, nothing really separated me from these other people. that the person who said "what we have in common is greater than what sets us apart" is right. we are all connected.

i called it a night & headed home.

tonight

tonight no words come
as i sit with myself
lingering in silence
watching my heart sink
as it struggles to stay afloat
brave like the tiny leaf
that clings to an old weary branch.

tonight no words come
as i drift down this river
this mad crazy ride called my life
exhausting exhilarating wildly amazingly wonderful
at the same time.

tonight no words come
as the feeling of longing engulfs me
as i yearn for your warm embrace
as the eternal wonder settles in me
as i wonder about when & where
no words come...
and i let that be.

coming home

ever since i've arrived, there hasn't been an ordinary day. each morning i wake up to a new truth that has slowly woven its way into my life. it amazes me how well i'm accepting all these changes. it amazes me how it doesn't feel like i'm coping, but rather, how it almost seems i'm simply watching life unfold. yet being the passionate being that i am, i also witness the emotions that rise & fall with my breath. hurt, fear & hope all tangled up in vines that hover at my feet. they remind me of the all too familiar vulnerability that has cloaked me in the past. the door was left wide open to those who were allowed to come in & be in a precious position to hurt me. but now the difference is startlingly clear. the door no longer goes through my soul. the vines no longer bind me to the ground. i have freed myself.

when love & pain come my way, i embrace it on impulse because instinct tells me to. but a voice within tells me to let go. before it threatens to consume me again. so i taste it, feel it & call it mine but only for a moment. i am reminded once more that i need to keep nothing & no one else but my self.

and so i'm letting it go, i'm letting it go, i'm letting it go.

diary of an island girl in india

it's my last night in mysore and i wish i could paint the beauty that lies before me. photographs fail to capture the grace of the new moon rising against a pale young evening sky, or the scent of jasmine drifting in the air as a little one wraps a garland over a statue of ganesh. how can a photograph capture an old colonial mansion as it slowly comes to life, light pouring out of its windows as the dusk unfolds. or the wind on my face as i breeze through this charming little town on a motorbike, past cows that gently walk the roads as rickshaws whisk by, or the cool shade of the tree lined streets past temples that light up in the night. it is the ordinariness of things that makes these moments extraordinary, almost magical. india.

bliss

what can i say? i'm happy. i'm learning so much about myself and meeting people who inspire me. i'm doing what i love and i want to spend the rest of my life this way. i want to spend every second of each day pursuing what is worthwhile, that which feeds my soul. i do not want to waste any of it in trivial pursuits, running after temporary satisfactions and swimming in pools of negativity. i have always known what makes me happy and i want to spend the rest of my life discovering the world, discovering who i am and all the best i can be.


what brings me to the mat is the same place i want to serve from. this is my purpose. to heal people as i healed myself. through yoga. through watsu. through a better way of living. through love.

in the process there are things and people i have to let go. there is nothing for me to keep except my self. i've tried so hard to control when all i can really do is watch & witness all that is external. as i write this, say this, think this, feel this, i pray for courage. that i may let go with grace and love in my heart to prepare me for whatever sadness that may come.

but i will not think of that now, here in this space where i am. and i realized this when i started my journey to rediscovering myself, two years ago in the middle of a small town along the ligurian coast, that the life that i have always wanted is in me. because now i know, whether i'm walking on sand or on cobbled streets or in the hallways of an ashram... i am home.

new territory

I was rooted to the spot I’ve circled for so long. Uncertainty weighed me down and planted my feet deeper into the ground... Wanderlust stirs inside my soul but I can only go so far. I need to free me.

My heart will only be at peace when I can listen to its void. I do not wish to limit all my actions to what is careful, practical, realistic. I do not wish to betray my own soul.

I no longer fear.

Some of us travel forever, in search of other states, other lives, other souls... I travel for all.

long way home

it's been a long day and i still do not know. if the life that i love is the life that i want. how many of us truly know if what we have is a good life. not good as measured by the standards of comfort or luck or by the things that make life easy. but good because we are aware when it's bad and when it needs fixing. good because we fully trust that where we are is where we are meant to be. good because it is not a life unlived.

it's been a long day. my nerves need soothing. my mind needs to be still. and i may have a lot of questions but for now... my body needs to know that i have made it through the day.

on a lighter note

things you can find on my bed:

dinner
chocolates
lca+
my new & experimental holga
cellphones
ipods
laptop
a new movie
my house keys
yoga book
photo cd
headphones
inhalation beads
some clothes
brassiere
a new dress
red & black pens
my beatles notepad
a safety pin
pillows
blanket
an empty ziplock bag

there are nights when i honestly feel like i live on this bed. literally. when all matter exists on this piece of foam - music, love, stories, laughter, tears and dreams. there is a lot that goes on here. at the end of the day, i take my trash out. i clean up my space in an attempt to clear my head. because at the end of the day, we could do without clothes or cameras and (gasp) even chocolates. at the end of the day, all we want is peace of mind.

the next step

acceptance is painful.

but it is necessary.

what is love after all? it is a force that does not wither. it does not cower at the sight of the unappealing. it does not turn to dust when each has to take its own different path. love does not die even when we leave.

love is a force. it can make us go and it can make us stay. love can move for different reasons. and it can move for none.

love simply is.

long after our choices have been made, love will continue to live. it may take another form and we may not recognize nor acknowledge it, but it will always be there.

acceptance.

the girl i used to know

the bed seems empty without your legs eating up my side. the room seems quiet without your high-low-high pitch voice that breaks into laughter in the most uncanny moments. my night seems still without your thoughts, your words and your whole jumbled up weird character.

it's your last night here and it feels like it's my first without you.

a year of pillow talk and movie nights and taboo that we didn't play; a year of spilling secrets and dinners and sleepovers that would put any high school record to shame; a year of journeys and self discoveries, of laughter and tears that lingered late into the night. we may have pondered over the men in our lives and yet in the year that has passed, there was no better person to be with than you.

and so the winds that have brought you here are back to bring you elsewhere. i'll see you in bali where our wanderlust will take us. we'll hie off to some island and surf for a month. the world is big for our dreams and small for us to meet again :)

one day you will come back here, the girl i used to know. because today you are becoming the woman you are meant to be.

faith

there is much to heal in this world. for every wound that refuses to heal. for every angel that falls from the sky. for every hurt that hides beneath fragile wings. there is much to heal.

and so we turn to those we love and wonder, how can i make them see? how can i help them get through the pain, mend the hearts which were shattered into a thousand little pieces? how can i make them see life is still worth living?

i sit with myself and the words of someone very spiritual echo in my mind. i cannot heal in others what is wounded in me.

i sit with myself and find faith. faith that can see. it is the candle that glows in the dark. it is faith that tells me there is no need to suffer inspite of the pain, no need to lose myself when sorrow comes my way. that which tells me to be brave so i can inspire others to do the same. i can heal myself. it is faith that tells me impossible is nothing.

i sit with myself and know. that inspite of all the hurt and sadness that creep their way in, life remains beautiful. because i let it.

i love paris

and i miss it.

becoming

I am not who you think I am.
Not now.
Not today.
There is no recognition as I stare
At the reflection
that stares back at me.
I don’t need to see
To know.
What’s inside me is breathing.
Pulsing.

I am who I think I am
Slowly unfolding
Like the beginnings of a dark thought.
There is no reason to despise
What is becoming a part of me.
I walk
Mesmerized by my own shadow.
A strange creature
That fascinates
And taunts
The better part of me.

new beginnings

today the storm came and ravaged our island. today the storm came and ravaged the place i've grown to call home.

the sight was devastating. the canopy that once sheltered me from rain stooped like a tired old man. the pathway was gone. and the trees that stood proud yesterday lay broken on the ground. it was terrible and it made my heart break.

rain kept falling as i swept the pathway clean, as others before me and others after me picked up the branches, picked up the pieces to make this place whole, never stopping until we could see the path again. and i could see. in the midst of ruins i am surrounded by beauty. in the people whose spirits are still intact even when their own homes have been shattered. whose arms did not tire after hours of no food and sleep. we may have lost our homes, our clothes, our everyday belongings but we have not lost the one thing that mattered most in this time of distress. our hope.

night comes and rain still falls, but the wind has hushed down leaving a cool stillness in the air. what started out to be a horrifying morning turned into one of the most amazing days i have seen. the courage and resilience that cleared th paths, the admirable compassion that went into rebuilding the place that so many others call home resonated through the silence of the night. if love came from a well that built this place, then from the same well we will build again.

it is almost midnight as i walk home. stripped of its leaves, the tree stands strong in the circle of hope. fireflies dance overhead and a lone star begins to shine through the cloudy skies... hope. it's time for new beginnings.

gypsy

the wind is calling, and i have to go. there will be sand beneath our feet. there will be stars looking down on us. in this infinite sky...

oh the gypsy in me

happy tomorrows

seeking. restless. sleepless. oh the initial stirrings of wanderlust.

to have left the place that stifled me, to have unloved the things i held dear, to have started the journey in search for myself. that which i had lost. that which i have found once more.

funny how we run away from home, funnier still how we run back. so much things we hate about it and so much more things to love.

because somewhere along the way we realize it isn't the place we're running away from. but the person we've become. or rather, the person we haven't become. the disappointment borne out of undreaming dreams and the hollow sadness of being stuck.

and so we run away. to follow almost forgotten dreams. in search for la dolce vita.

the sweetness of this life comes from knowing that home is where love is. that wherever i go and whenever i decide to pack my bags and head to a place where love resides, that is home.

where will this wanderlust take me now? to distant shores, to a vine covered yellow house perhaps? the beauty that stems from knowing that everything is possible. i smile in glorious anticipation :)

today

today i remembered my grandmother's voice
i heard it clearly
slicing the morning air
i cried as i realized that i will never
hear it again

in memory

the sun has set on an old day
and i will never see her again
the grandma of my youth

the one who would come on our birthdays
and wear her own party hat
who would come on random nights
and visit us when we were little enough
to sit on her lap

the one who braved
the war and dusty bus rides
and robbers
who were chased away with a stick
and pure iron guts

the one who would keep us in her home
during our childhood summers
feeding us, watching us hop and skip
over chalked boxes we drew in her backyard

the one who would play the piano
day and night
the one who would make us play
the chopsticks over and over again

the one who would bring us to the park
every summer afternoon
watching us play
watching us grow
letting us run in full abandon

the one who marveled while i cooked
my first masterpiece
of hot soup with leaves and fish eyes
i got from her kitchen

the one who would take us to the movies
in the middle of the day
making us feel like grown ups
by letting us choose our own seats

the one who had always made me feel like a grandchild
long after i grew up
and who held me in her arms
until i was big enough to hold her

the one who would keep photos of my travels
and listen to my stories
whose spirit and wanderlust didn't flicker
with the coming of her age

the one who would wear bracelets that we've made
like pieces of expensive jewelry
precious against her healthy wrists
we used to hang on to when crossing the streets

the one who would grow old
like i knew she would
someday.

the sun has gone down
the old streets of our youth flash before me
and she is gone

the grandmother i will miss

kaleidoscope

the sky burns. the air slowly turns itself into pink. night is coming. but in these few seconds of dusk, of twilight descending, of kaleidoscope stirring, i awake.

oriah ~ the mountain dreamer

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to
be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.

letter to a dear one

your message a few nights ago took me by surprise. true, it was my birthday after all. but it was refreshing to hear from you. catching up on each other's lives after years of silence, allowing each other a momentary peek into our worlds. a thousand miles apart and yet here we are. in the heart of strange places we finally call home.

how far we've come. and how far we're still going...

i look back at those years when we lived entangled lives. was it so long ago? or was it only yesterday? i hear you now and see how far you've grown from being lost. how certain you've become. i ran away from all the noise to a place i've always held dear. and you... in the midst of all the noise, the thrill, the circus of the big apple, found yourself. we are so alike. and so different.

it took us quite a while to untangle each other. but here we are now :)

thank you for remembering. for knowing me. for being my first love, and passion.

and after years of being together and being apart, thank you for keeping it real.

i'm glad i forgot to ask for an aisle seat

i'm high up in the sky and stars shoot past my window. big ones that leave a trail of stardust in their wake. and small ones that streak by so fast they seem to be figments of imagination. if i could reach out i may just catch one star, hold it in the palm of my hand...

i'm suspended in time, flying through space, through the black of the night, through constellations that dust the sky like a dream. and i wish you were here. you would have loved the sight. i would have loved the company

the real thing

he was kneeling when he kissed her. her face a picture of calm and peace, belying the surge of emotions that consumed her being. her toes were curled, shivers down her spine. her hands clasped to his, that which held her face gently. urgently. as he kissed her skin.

who knew that after 8 years of keeping a tiny print of gustav klimt´s "the kiss" i´d see the real thing.

home is where the heart is

halfway across the world and no longer in search for my place. while i walk in awe along these beautiful cobbled streets, no longer do i carry the longing that has haunted me for years. for i have found my home. and so have many others. faces that don't quite belong have dwelled in this coast. sometimes it takes thousands of miles to bring us to where our heart is.

life does work in magical ways :)

heart of a nomad

nostomania (nos-tuh-MAY-nee-uh, -mayn-yuh) noun
an overwhelming desire to return home or to go back to familiar places.

interesting what word you can learn in a day. interesting to realize i haven't been nostomanic in a while. and i guess that's how it goes when you've finally found home.

the rains have come. has it been a year? i walk down that path, on a trail of windblown petals, no longer lost in my sadness. some things you have to let go. some you keep. excessively wistful. a sentimental fool. that's me alright. we all have issues. you and i. that doesn't make any of us perfect. but it makes us human.

and that is always a better thing.

my own

it's nice to be alone sometimes. to wake up with filtered sunlight on your face, broken by moving shadows. it's nice to wake up and sleep back to a dreamy thought with only the pillow by your side. a love stained dreamy memory. it's nice to get up in the morning, without anyone pulling you out of bed. to step out with unbrushed and hastily tied hair. to walk along the shore, with no end in sight. just one sleepy morning step at a time. it's nice to move with your memories, to dance with each thought, to smile because knowing is better than wondering. it's nice to rest your mind. to find a moment of calm. to let the heart beat on its own. without hurt, without pride. it's nice to move at your own pace. when the concept of fast or slow does not exist. when today, not yesterday nor tomorrow, is the most beautiful day ever lived.

yesterday

...i woke up early and saw the sunrise paint the sky with golden pink clouds. it was the last day of our yoga retreat and we were starting the day with a walking meditation. while we took slow steps and walked our way to the beach, the early morning sunlight got caught in my hair. rainbows of all colors danced on each strand and for a few seconds of eternity, my hair was exactly how i wanted it as a child - strawberry blond, like Nancy Drew's.

i remember my family having a Volkswagen when i was a child. i remember sitting in the passenger seat, a big scarf wrapped around my head and huge dark sunglasses covering my face. i remember sitting in the Shiny Green Beetle parked in our garage, waiting for my mom to find me. finally she came and the minute she saw me said "nikki, what are you doing?". i remember feeling so disappointed and thinking didn't Nancy Drew hide herself perfectly well in this disguise? stunned, i refused to move thinking she might Realize that it wasn't me after all. i stared straight out the windshield until she called me again. so i turned and asked "did you recognize me Mama? did you Know it was me?" she laughed the way mothers laugh at their silly daughters and said "Of course I knew it was you"

i guess i spent my younger days hiding behind sunglasses, writing poetry neatly hidden in my countless journals, letting chances pass me by, storing bottled feelings inside like Dropping Coins in a piggy bank, one by one. what is it about masks and disguises that we find so alluring? it must be the false perception that we are more interesting creatures than our true selves. we hide for fear of being seen, for fear of being discovered who we really are behind our mask. without it, we feel naked and Vulnerable. i used to be scared of my vulnerability, often mistaking it for weakness. for how easy it is for other people to hurt us when we leave ourselves too open.

Very Easy.

but then we grow older and we realize our ignorance. how our efforts are wasted on pretending and hiding and running away from what we would eventually seek. there will always be prettier girls, stronger men, tougher athletes and more intelligent writers. but there is only one You, one I. in the end we are the person we see first thing in the morning, sleepy eyes, hair sticking out in all the wrong places, no makeup, just us. In this barenakedness, in someone's eyes we are beautiful.

funny what one remembers just by looking at hair... i'm no nancy drew alright. I am Me.

and that is so much better :)

dream of a parallel universe

why the right thing seems wrong, and the wrong thing seems right...i've spun my own web, suspended in time and space. trapped between each precious night together, each intimate night apart. a parallel universe where this stark reality is but a hazy dream. found in sunsets and shadows and in blinding daylight where truth so raw cuts blindly through this elegant complexity. where each conflicted emotion, each borrowed moment, each enduring imperfection beats behind a single passionate intention -

to make us feel.

today

today i saw twilight came and watched as the stars faded into the morning light.

today i felt the cold air against my face while the sun rose slowly spreading himself to the world.

today i left with sadness while you and the rest of the island were still asleep.

today i'm counting even faster, counting days till i breathe the salt-laced air that the island breathes.

today i sense a sad certainty, like a slow current that circles my knees in shallow waters.

today more than yesterday i sense..i see..i feel.

a storm brewing

i was never one to delve into half-baked matters. being the emotional person that i am, the intensity of this dream blew me off course. i lost my balance and believed what i was made to believe. but i'm better now.

though i started feeling otherwise, i know i must not take this seriously. facing the storm that continues to pour down on me is not an easy task. yet I cherish this journey knowing it comes from within. this isn't just about you after all. it's also about me. whether i was treated in the same way or not doesn't change anything. in the course of a lifetime, some things will not matter.

pale sunshine streams through my windows, casting the cobwebs that threaten to cloud my heart and mind. someday i'll look back and see this dream as a gift that flew its way into my life. maybe one day you'll see it too.

the storm signals are changing. on bad days clouds block my horizon and emotions run as wild as the river or fall heavily like rain.

but not today.

becoming

in retrospect, i'm not an ordinary girl. i disregard rules and proportions. i refuse to live in an ordinary space when the world is filled with strange and beautiful corners. i want rapture. i only believe in passion and madness and not the safe confines that constrict the soul. i want freedom from standards. i embrace sadness and bliss as much as i embrace this life.

and when days and weeks and faces become too ordinary, when the outside world becomes stifling, i escape.

wanderlust and imagination are the only constant things in my life. to wake up to a new day, a new idea, a new emotion, that to me makes life insatiable.

we travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls - a.n

diary of an island girl

there is something magical about the ordinariness of things. like waking up this morning. after snoozing my alarm three times, i stepped outside in my pajamas and watched the day unfold before me. a red and yellow parachute sailed across the morning sky. a group in a sky blue boat rowed in still waters. joggers streaked across the beach. a lone man was doing yoga, raising his arms towards the sun. and in my chair, i sat under the morning light and let the soft drizzle fall down on me and my breakfast.

i'm just an ordinary girl. but if i reach out far enough, i can touch the horizon, let my fingers skim across the endless blue sea.

new year
02 january, monday

another year has passed. i look back and all yesterdays flow like a stream. i’ve had my heart broken and mended, my mind stretched to my imagination. as much as i thank God for his blessings, i am grateful for the trials and hardships that came my way. coming upon crossroads and obstacles have challenged my self-belief and brought me to where i am now. each day i wake up on this island is an affirmation of who i really am. i sleep and wake up to the sound of waves, like a seashell gently whispering in my ear. I see the ocean and think to myself - this is it, where i belong and where i have always wanted to be. like water, my pain that came with the journey is washed away when i see the infinite beauty that surrounds me. adrift in melancholy, i cannot find it in my heart to leave this island which has become my home. not just yet.

it was a year when i embarked upon a journey to self-rediscovery, a journey that goes on today as i write. i look at the girl I was before this, so lost in her sadness. my heart goes out to her until the day she steps out of the cocoon...sees herself for the very first time, discover her wings and take flight.

it's been a strange and wonderful year.


random thoughts
october

imagine life without movies. or novels filled with stories of passion and delight. imagine falling in love without these influences. How blissful and utterly simple our lives can be. is this why we have such twisted views on love?

...backtrack
september

if it weren’t for the blazing sun and the faint wisp of cloud, the sky was perfectly cerulean. like a blank blue canvass waiting for the sunset, it is fragile in its perfection. i smile and my heart is filled with wonder because this little island is my home.

my fourth month and the thought of leaving saddens me to no end. i have removed myself from my family and walked the journey once again to independence. sometimes i find myself wishing i came to live here sooner, but i look around and see how everything falls around me perfectly. it might not have been this way if I came at another time.

sunset yoga
08 nov, tuesday

it was 5:30 in the afternoon as i watched the ball of sunshine disappear beyond the horizon. the sky still bright, i laid out my yoga mat and started breathing right. i've been away for a few days and the last couple of weeks went by so fast i hardly had time for myself. while i started doing my asanas, i could hear whispered giggles. i was surrounded by kids, imitating my every move. within minutes i had a small congregation, an impromptu yoga class.

how cute is that :)

moonbathing
18 oct, tuesday

i came home tired, my spirits battered. for the first time in months, i felt defeated. while i knew it shouldn't have mattered much (work is just work after all) i couldn't help but feel disappointed. so i turned to my biggest vice and my greatest provider of comfort - the ocean. it was full moon and the water was cold. i soaked in the moonbeam, letting the waves soothe and wash away my distress. with liam & tammy, i swam to the deeper end, hoisting ourselves up a moored sailboat, climbing repeatedly after one invigorating dive after another.

energy flowed back in. i felt rejuvenated.

i floated under her stare, thankful that this is the life i have.

birthday of an island girl
30 sept, friday

yesterday i turned 28.

tonight i celebrate my first birthday on the island :)

after the rain
13 sept, tuesday

last friday, i got my first island visit. well technically, she wasn't my first one but the first among my closest friends to have flown hundreds of miles to see me. with her i was forced to face my issues. matters which i've been running away from in hopes that eventually they'll fizzle out. like a cloud heavy with rain, all my emotions poured out until there was only sun and sky.

after the rain, i began to understand the root of my fears, my joy and my sadness.

last night we celebrated a friend's birthday in an intimate party by the beach. with kids running around, we laid out on the sand satiated with good food and good music. it's interesting how things turn out. moving to the island started out as an alternative. i never thought i'd find my peace here. i've been uncertain for so long i've forgotten how it felt to be me. how good it felt to be me.

i've taken a detour which molded me into different person. oftentimes in discovering who you do not want to be, you discover your true character. saying i have found my peace does not mean that the journey ends here. with life comes new challenges and discoveries. the journey goes on.

while the future is remains ambiguous, one thing is certain - i do not want to lose myself again.

pieces of you
08 sept, thursday

on earth there is no heaven, but there are pieces of it - jules renard

i want to own a piece of boracay. simply put, a piece of land i can always go home to.

over the years, the island has attracted and sheltered travelers from all over the world. carefree souls who've wandered far and wide, only to find their place here. and although the footprints have multiplied a million times over the last three decades, the magic of boracay isn't lost on me. i who set foot on the island seven years ago, the day after a huge tropical storm ravaged the pier and wiped the island raw. i had never seen a place so beautiful.

throughout the years, boracay had seen changes. resorts, bars and shops have sprouted like fern, as have the tourists. old timers complain how the once immaculate island had given in to commercialism, losing its charm in the process. but i beg to differ.

every day, the sun turns the sky pink before dark and the air turns to blue when it rises in the morning. at night, a blanket of stars warm those who still care to look up. as monsoon comes, the waves draw bohemian spirits to dance in the rain or feel the cold seawind on their skin. no matter what or when, the magic will never leave those who seek it.

this island is my piece of heaven, and as much as i would love to have a piece of her, i know that boracay will never be owned. but it warms my heart to know that she owns a piece of me.

5 sept, monday

the quest for ten more pounds begins today.

home is where the heart is - 03 sept, saturday

three days in manila and i couldn't wait to get away from all the ridiculous politics, insane traffic and skyless clouds. i wouldn't have gone if it weren't for my loved ones - my little brother who just left for singapore to start a new job; my cousins who used to climb up the sofa to give me all sorts of hugs (now they're taller, all grown up and in college, how time flies!); and my pseudo sisters who greeted me with news of their love lives and their teen misadventures.

after quick goodbyes and a bumpy plane ride, i'm back. no family to greet me at the airport and waiting for me instead are my grocery list, my room which needs cleaning, laundry which needs to be picked up and work to be done the next day. how oddly comforting.

before saying goodnight, i walk down to the beach and head to my favorite shack. with a glass of pineapple rum i look up and see the stars peeking through the coconut trees.

just happy to be home :)

island happiness - 30 aug, tuesday

another night at red pirates. god i love this place. just listening to the old bombom guys jamming and the sound of the waves crashing mad makes me go..you know :)

this is the island at its purest. the beach shack was filled with islanders and friends alike (no one's a stranger here) sharing freshly cooked dinner, sitting on our own piece of driftwood. never mind the cold habagat wind, it was a beautiful night. the happiness so tangible it warmed our backs the way pineapple rum does.

i open my arms wide, if only to spread some island happiness all over the world.

beached - 28 aug, sunday

aloha! my nose is sunburnt, tee-hee :)

27 aug, saturday

like the average sleepyhead, i set my alarm twice. the first is a pseudo-alarm, for when i should wake up. the 2nd is the main alarm, for when i should really wake up. so in between the two, i lounge lazily or go as far to attempt catching a few more minutes of precious sleep. this morning, the sleepyhead's universal morning rule was just broken by a spider.

let me tell you this, i have never gotten out of bed faster since i set foot on this island. though it was a medium sized spider with thread thin legs that crawled silently on my sheets, it proved to be more effective than my alarm system.

but if waking up early and breaking my day off to attend a two hour office training means sitting with my officemates in an open room overlooking the ocean on a sunny day, i'll take it anytime.

well i'm off to the beach. happy weekend everyone :)

twilight thoughts - 26 aug, thursday

i woke up to the sound of raindrops. it must have been 4 in the morning. though the rain was falling softly, the tin roof echoed each drop like a faint gong rousing me from my dream. it hasn't rained for days.

i realize i barely know anything about you. what shaped you to become the oddly fascinating person you are today. we talk about now, never about yesterday with only a few vague glimpses into your future.

i hide under my blanket to snuggle with you, a hundred miles away.

red pirates - 26 aug, friday

pineapple rum in a shack by the beach. reggae, pop rock and ballad music. a fire dance. a handful of travelers and islanders. brown and white. strange and beautiful, just the way i like it.

my peace - 24 aug, wednesday

i miss certain friends. old ones from way back. and though you're fairly new, i miss you too. when i talk about the stars or sunsets, you get it. i love that you notice when the air changes into pink or blue.

~

in a good way, i've always been burdened by the past. i refuse to let some things go, afraid that if i do, it would change my entire being. and i've always been cautious about tomorrow, careful not to divulge my hopes or speak for fear of rejection. so everyday, i cling to my past and sleep with thoughts of the future at night.

but i do believe that change is good for the soul.

as a child i tormented my mother with torn pajamas from climbing trees and picking up fights with the neighbourhood boys. come to think of it, this was probably why she ignored my pleas for karate lessons and stuffed me in ballet shoes instead. my teenage and college years revolved around competitive and adventure sports - swimming, running marathons and rowing gave me my natural high. a restless creature, i was not one to stay still. until one day, i did. i sat down on a black cushioned revolving chair and the office became my world for six exciting and tiring years.

that part of my life is over, thank God. i still swim, floating a bit more this time. i still run, no longer racing after others. it took me a long while before i could calm down and breathe normally again.

my life isn't perfect but i savor every moment - every flower that blooms unexpectedly, every rare good thing that comes along the way and every sadness brought by things that are not meant to be, all these i now embrace. not the past, not the future, but the present.

in an unexpected move, i'm now taking yoga and loving every minute. as i chant om shanti shanti...i feel peace. peace that comes with the faint scent of the ocean and the amber glow of each sunset. peace that comes from the stillness of being. peace that comes from my heart.

my banana milkshake - 22 aug, monday

melancholy came right after college, what i considered were the best years of my existence. it was my first time to leave home, live independently and make decisions which would later change the course of my life. nights were constantly filled with nostalgia. like a bad hangover, it wouldn't leave. no amount of banana milkshakes and pain reliever could cure. i found solace in old letters and snapshots which faded throughout the years. it was probably the main theme of my quarter life crisis. i poured all my energy into my new job in order to avoid the erratic episodes of misery and depression. but no matter how hard i tried, it caught up.

so i started looking for alternatives. a detour. an escape from the habitual flow of things. so once again i write...

this is why i travel...to escape from a life that family and friends see fit. to slip away from a society that tells you to have babies soon because your biological clock is tick-tocking louder and the neighbours are listening. where girlfriends greet you with looks of feigned concern when they say you should put on a few more pounds, patting your shoulders and nodding their heads sadly like they would if somebody's dog had died. perplexed why my physical state deserves an editorial, a smile is all i could offer to keep myself from screaming. why do they care how a person should look? i eat what i want & i'm damn happy to fit nicely in my bikini. i can't help but wonder, when did people start losing touch with things that really matter?

oh don't get me wrong. i love my home, stifling as it may be at times. but always inside me is a yearning that can only be pacified by the sound of the ocean, the indescribable feeling of being in a strange place, the sight of bright pink sunsets and night skies spattered with a thousand stars...

this was written 11 months ago. today i am in a place where crickets chirp endlessly at five in the afternoon. where i can experience the moonset and sunrise at the same time.

today i am here. but it wasn't an easy ride. i spent weeks each year escaping to far off places, collecting moments of discoveries and sheer pleasure. but it took me years to gather enough courage to unlock the key that kept me chained to the ground. this time raised eyebrows, discouraging protests, and wild horses couldn't keep me away.

my third month on the island and counting. it is heaven on earth and paradise with rain. it's not all magic and romance, life is also at work here. there are days when the monsoon winds prove just a bit too much and the mud unforgivable. but my pink sunsets and star filled skies come in between. and like a thorn removed, i realized i no longer have that hangover.

the island has become my banana milkshake. though we are still trying to get to know each other, i've come to call her home. i no longer feel the need to run away. now i'm just running. with the wind, sea and sky. defying my fears. defying gravity.

new sensations - 20 & 21 aug, saturday thru sunday

sunset & moonlight.

some ice cream, a mug of peppermint tea and heartwarming conversation that lingered after sunrise.

night and morning played out beautifully.

yet i am filled with sadness for the strangest reasons.

island moon - 19 aug, friday

everyone was out for the first night of the full moon, decked out on the beach, just staring at the sky. how can anything compare?

as we trudged in the sand on our way home, the moon was setting at half past five in the morning. the air turned pink as the sun rose on the other side of the island. so i guess i was wrong. something can compare after all.

17 aug, wednesday

after rounds of my special jungle juice concoction (trust me, i'm good with rum) and sweet blue shaker that had my girls laughing & crying on a wednesday night, we decided to walk along the beach on our way home. heavy-eyed at 2 am, a cry from sheila woke us up.

at 2 am, the moon was setting.

like a lone fruit in an orange grove, it slid its way slowly to the sea. empty boats rocked backed & forth, soft waves lulling them to sleep. the stars watched as i dashed to the sea, stopping in knee deep water, smiling to my friends and to myself.

this is exactly the life that i want :)

15 aug, monday

the moon hung low, casting an orange sheen to the waters beneath her. the waves were gentle, the night breeze rustling the coconut leaves shyly. i wanted to run into the sea and feel the wet sand between my toes. but it was midnight and no one near was crazy enough to run with me.

oh well :)

13 aug, saturday

sun! sea! waves! and a lot of love

12 aug, friday

as i write, a strange looking beetle hopper (a cross between a beetle & a grasshopper is what it seems) is crawling across my desk. bright green, it looks right at home beside the office pc, which by the way is covered in clear plastic to shield it from the habagat rain.

don't you just love working here? :)

11 aug, thursday

another giant unexpected gift. a most wonderful thing that left me in tears, my mouth hanging & eyes wide open. not a very pretty sight but my love hugged me anyway.

though i'm not one to wear a ring around my finger, i'm keeping it.

10 aug, wednesday

you are my yesterday
void of memories.
i head home with an infantile thought
in the palm of my hand.
i sleep with dreams
of the rain & evening songs.
i wake up
with a knowing smile
that you are not mine.
but someone else's tomorrow.


08 aug, monday

so then i find out her name is kristin. she emails, missing the island already.

05 aug, friday

had dinner with christiana, a visiting canadian who teaches kids in korea. an acquaintance who immediately became a friend as the night wore on. though worlds apart, we found a million and one things in common - a protective mother, a burning wanderlust, the angst of being young & single in the 21st century as well as everyday thoughts on love and life. only a few hours between us, but i'll definitely miss her.

in between rum, mango margaritas & vodka sevens i escaped my little posse to catch a bit of air. then came the rain. raging at two in the morning. the bartenders boarded up as the partygoers were forced to brave the unforgiving downpour. the next two hours were spent with another new friend, the most peculiar 18 year old i know. cold & wet, we warmed ourselves with talks on everything and nothing.

01 aug, monday

monday night is movie night at bamboo lounge. capped the evening off with a glass of sangria & a stroll along the beach.

31 july, sunday

on my way home, i rode in a tricyle driven by a father and his 3 year old son who shouted vroom vroom as we sped along the narrow back streets of boracay

30 july, saturday

after weeks of rain, the sun was finally out! today we danced & jumped with the waves, flirted with the sand & soaked all the sunshine in, our sun deprived skin singing here comes the sun...lal la lala lah...

swept away
29 july, friday

first real night out since i moved to the island. drank rum by the beach, danced with fellow islanders, took a dip in the water, the nighy sky spattered with stars. everything felt real.

i'm home.

:)

like i said

days are moving faster. one sunset after another.

yet even on gray sky afternoons, the sunsets are beautiful. i am not one to look away.

not one to sleep without waking. not one to live without dreaming.

the house beside casimero bakery

that’s how we call home. it will never be the same without you; without your presence as warm as the afternoon sun which paints the otherwise dim kitchen with yellow daffodils. your laughter that bounces off the ceiling like rays of light, penetrating our walls and our hearts. your friendship that is as real and beautiful as soft sand on our feet, saltwater on our skin and all the wonderful things the island brings.

your alarm clock won’t wake me up in the morning and I no longer have to wait endlessly for you to dress up. our kitchen sink will be so much cleaner; your dirty plates won’t sit there biding their time. the floors will be gleaming and i won’t have to trip over your Imelda Marcos collection of slippers. you think life in the house beside Casimero bakery will be more convenient, but I don’t think that way.

i want laughter that makes our bellies ache and conversations through bedroom walls. i want ice cream after dinner and our long brunches on sunday mornings. i want motorcycle rides through the night. and our constant midnight snacks, when we ponder about our troubles and how they seem more bearable with each other’s company. i know, i will miss you dearly.

know i’m here for you. live through your days and let your dreams bring you back, to sunsets and blue skies and all lovely things in between.

days are moving faster

tears fall whenever i think about it. yet I am filled with warmth and inexplicable happiness because it’s you.

you fill my void in the strangest and simplest ways. clear as this morning was, the sky is slowly beginning to fill with clouds. i am lost in my wanting.

lost in translation

sunsets. sunrise. pink skies. moonlight. constellations. ice cream. yogurt. riddles. whispered words. strangled feelings. wind. rain. strange currencies. white wine. smoke in the air. pillow talk. facades. masquerades. uncertainty. moments of clarity. longing. missing. regret. envy. passion. madness. sleepless nights. of hopes. of dreams. blue air. parallel universe. swimming and dancing. drowning and floating. feeling, always feeling, never thinking. until now.