tales from 155 riverside: new mak city

I was feeling a little low three nights ago, so I randomly pulled a DVD from my WAG (Will & Grace) stack and put it on the player. It was the show's third season, and the first episode had Will finding out that his best friend Grace had become a lot closer to Jack while he was on vacation:

[PLAY]

GRACE: Hey, what are you doing?
WILL: All my plants died. I told Jack to water them while I was away. But I can see how he might hear that as "fill up my hard drive with Internet porn."

GRACE: What's the matter? Why are you pouting?
WILL: I'm not pouting.

GRACE: Hey, I watch "Ally McBeal." I know what pouting looks like. You're pouting.
WILL: I heard you and Jack in your apartment last night.

GRACE: What? Oh... So now you're worried that Jack's my new you?
WILL: Ha! I don't... maybe...

GRACE: Oh, my God. Could you be any cuter?
WILL: Grace!

GRACE: Oh, I'm sorry. I just love not being the insecure wreck for once.
WILL: My feelings aren't cute, ok? I'm not the youngest brother on "Eight is Enough." How can you like Jack better than me?

GRACE: Are kidding me with this? We've been best friends for 15 years. Do you really need me to tell you how much you mean to me?
WILL: I do it for you like every 5 minutes.

GRACE: No, you don't!
WILL: Grace, I have to talk you off a ledge every time the Starbucks lady gives me extra foam!

GRACE: Well, clearly there's something going on there. I mean, the two of you have your own language.
WILL: Grace, it's called a macchiato.

GRACE: All right. What do you want me to say?
WILL: I don't know! How about something like... Like you need me more than anybody else... There's no one that could ever take my place... And then that, you know, you promise when your last breath escapes you in this earthly life, it will whisper my name. [Whispers.] Will... But, you know, in your own words.

GRACE: What does this say to you? [Grace holds up her elbow to Will's face.]
WILL: That you're out of Skin-So-Soft?

GRACE: The scar, Will. Remember?
WILL: Oh, right. That's from when your sister was sleepwalking and thought you were a salami.

GRACE: That's on my thigh.
WILL: Right.

GRACE: No. This scar is from junior year when Scott Kelly dumped you. Remember? I jumped on my moped, ran over to your dorm, hit a patch of ice, and flew into that stupid men's singing group.
WILL: Right. The A Cappellicans. God, they sucked.

GRACE: The point is... My love for you is like this scar... Ugly but permanent. So as long as this is on my elbow, you've got nothing to worry about.
WILL: Ok.

GRACE: And you know what else?
WILL: What? [Grace smacks the back of Will's head.] Ow! What?! What'd you do that for?!

GRACE: Don't you ever leave for three months without telling me.
WILL: Sorry.

[PAUSE]

"Oh my God," I told myself. This is it!

Because sometimes, it's hard to verbalize emotions, the universe, by some random act, provided me a means of explaining it in a clearer way.

Emotions are our natural reactions to life's circumstances. Regardless if we think that what we feel is right or wrong, all emotions remain valid and important. Hence, they should be felt, acknowledged, affirmed, and up to a point, even indulged.

That's what I believe, and this is how I am:

I am seloso, sometimes, and I make tampo, sometimes. I am not unreasonable so there's always a ground for me to feel that way. In case there's none, both feelings remain valid. Well, at least to me anyway.

So let me; at least once in a while, allow me to be the insecure one.

And just like what Grace did, humor me.

tales from 155 riverside (prologue)

I am in my own world when I'm watching Will & Grace.

While some people turn to ice cream, or chocolate, or shopping, I turn to WAG. It is my upper, and so far, it has never failed to make me LOL in real life, and by LOL, I really mean LOL.

Barring Mean Girls, it is the one show that I will never get tired of watching. Even if I have seen all 164 episodes for several times now, I always pick up something new when I watch Will & Grace - be it a good pop culture allusion, a witty dialogue, or a humorous punchline. Most importantly, sensible and contemporary issues have been tackled in the show, and from which viewers, not limited to myself, have learned a life lesson.

Or something.

traveling by boat at night in the waters of puerto galera

Jay: Di nakakatakot sa boat? Maulan di ba?
Mak: Nakakatakot. Wala nga nag-aalala. Pati magulang ko. Grabe, as in.
Jay: Drama mo. Ako nag-alala. Ehehe. Tingnan mo tinanong kita.

*******

There is something inherently melancholic about traveling by boat at night in the waters of Puerto Galera.

The darkness turns everything into nothing - anchored sailboats into silhouettes, towering islands into shrouds, fellow passengers to ghosts, the wind, but a faint echo, and the horizon blank and hollow, like the water on which we tread on.

True, that there is a certain beauty to all these. Come to think of it, the watercraft is a cradle that leisurely rides the waves, and the steady hum of the motor, the lull. Relaxing. The vibrations, soothing. But remembering being propelled forward, blindly, onto the expanse of uncertainty mixes a certain element of intensity, one leaning towards morbid fascination.

Hands gripped tight while the eyes wander at the displaced water underneath, and at the foams surging upward on the tail end. Then the boatman pauses, and poses. Silence ensued. Not a sound, not even the engine. The heart becomes more restless. Fear looming. From the corner, another boat crosses our path. Almost invisible. Coalition prevented in this one big freeway.

Forward, the boat moves again. Somewhere farther than it looks, there's a lighted enclave. It took some time but you now know you were never lost. Realizations always take time. And like how the darkness turned everything into nothing, fear made you blind and oblivious to the wonders of traveling by boat at night in the waters of Puerto Galera. In the last few minutes you let go, trusting that the boat will soon be ashore.

To travel is to weave a tale, and tales should always end in a good way.

the lull

I could think of a million ways you proved you weren't the one for me.
To live inside your shades of gray, and never mind the sunshine that I'll find.
- Mandy Moore, All Good Things

*******

The picture was taken on the way to a port in Batangas twenty-two days ago.

the first time i stepped foot on puerto galera

Because unlike people, memories stay.

I remember March 2004.

I remember the tormenting bus ride
to the port of Batangas. Carlos and I traded comfort for the improbable chance of catching up with seven of our friends who took off even after we requested for them to wait for a few more minutes. Yes, they did. So the two of us took the earliest bus leaving the terminal. Unfortunately, it was a bus without air-conditioning, a bus with non-cushioned hard wood seats so tightly lined up that there was no leg room. For two god-forsaken hours, our knees were bruised, legs cramped and my head fumed like crazy.

I remember the depressing hours
of waiting for our friends who, by their lack of better judgment, island hopped even when they were fully aware that we were bound to arrive on the island shortly after them. I could do away with the activity. Thing is, they had the key to our room. So we stayed. We sat idly, and waited, looking after our belongings while everyone else was frolicking and gallivanting by the beach side. I was frustrated. I was tired. I was beyond furious. Carlos knew this so he tried to cheer me up but his efforts were wasted because I tend to be extra stubborn when I'm upset. And I was super upset.

I remember the overwhelming frustration
I felt as my best friend and I talked over the phone that night. I recalled the day's events to her – how Carlos and I were ignored from the get go, how we were abandoned while they were out having fun for hours, how Carlos and I felt like outcasts, alienated by our own, and the worst, how nobody from the cast of seven apologized or at the very least, acknowledged what they did. My guards collapsed from utter disappointment. My voice began to crack, and before I knew it, I was crying. I cried, and it made every soul in the room stop and stare.

I remember walking out
and heading to the beach after the call. In a quiet spot, I sat and reflected. I was reminded of what I wrote a few months back - the people whom we trust the most tend to be the ones who will let us down the worst. I wasn't being unfair. Expecting is not unfair. Not especially for something innately basic, like consideration. If strangers can give it, I don't see any reason why friends can't. Or won't.

I remember the indifference
in my voice as I told Carlos to let them take the first boat to the mainland. We took the next one but for some weird reason, we still ended up riding the same bus bound for Manila. It was uneventful but...

I remember thinking
how things will be different from then on. I planned a fun Galera getaway with eight close buddies. I came back cutting seven ties. Without any second thoughts. Without regrets.

will the real mc please stand up?

EGO
Beyonce
I Am... Sasha Fierce

... ego so big, you must admit, I got every reason to feel like I'm that bitch...

One need not be baffled as to whose ego Beyonce or Sasha Fierce, considering that the new single, Ego, was taken off the Fierce side of the dual disc I Am... Sasha Fierce, was singing about when it is so obvious that nobody else's ego is massive enough to warrant a song. Think about it, almost all of Beyonce's tracks are I-centric. Ego just trumps over everything else. Unsurprisingly, Ego sounds like a leftover track from B'Day and Dangerously In Love, a period when her alter ego was still inexistent. That is why the whole schtick that is I Am... Sasha Fierce is an epic failure in terms of Beyonce's vie for artistic credibility. Her sound is no different whether she's gyrating in leotards, or belting out borrowed tunes, or jamming along an easily forgettable upbeat filler like Ego. Until she proves she's more than a singles artist, she's only good enough until a better one comes along.

BATTLEFIELD
Jordin Sparks
Battlefield

... can't swallow our pride, neither of us wanna raise that flag. If we can't surrender then we both gonna lose what we have...

Like the young Jordin Sparks who is about to release her sophomore album. She may not have Beyonce's ego but she is massive in her own little way. The American Idol alumna collaborated with OneRepublic frontman Ryan Tedder to produce one of the finest songs of 2009; hopefully, the song that will command the attention she rightfully deserves. In Battlefield, the first single off the new album, Tedder incorporated the sounds of loud thumping drums, haunting melody from the piano, sparse electronic sonar-like chimes and the chant-y back vocals to update the 80s rock sound to the contemporary. Fronted by Sparks whose vocal prowess is indomitable, especially in the power choruses where she rallies, "I guess you better go and get your armor," the song becomes a goosebump-inducing epic that goes beyond the usual awesome. With the right promotion, Battlefield should propel Sparks to relevancy.

OBSESSED
Mariah Carey
Memoirs Of An Imperfect Angel

... you're a mom and pop, I'm a corporation. I'm the press coverage, you a conversation...

Going back to the ego talk, if there's anything bigger than Beyonce's, it would have to be Mariah Carey's lady bumps. Seriously, take a look. They could probably launch an airship with those things, much like in Pixar's Up. In any case, the Voice is once again back; this time, with a little help from auto-tune. Well, maybe a lot of help. It's auto-tune galore! Highly reminiscent of E=MC²'s club banger Migrate, the hot lead off her upcoming Memoirs Of An Imperfect Angel, Obsessed has the diva singing ala-Rihanna and Britney Spears, substituting vocal acrobatics with electronic stuttering which pretty much makes up the song's damn catchy hooks. This bouncy, mid-tempo summer track, became Carey's avenue to retaliate against Eminem who has continuously dissed the songbird for denying that they had a relationship. Once more, Carey impresses her audience with her songwriting ability, cleverly mixing pop culture references and phrases such as "Napoleon complex" in the song. Anyone who can pull off something like that deserves recognition. Even when she delivers one biting remark after another - "You're a mom and pop, I'm a corporation; I'm a press coverage, you a conversation," she remains adorable and saccharine. With all these mentioned, the cherry on this surefire number one is the Mean Girls reference at the beginning when Carey utters, "I was like, why are you so obsessed with me?" So fetch! Oh, and fans who clamor for vintage Mariah should get with the times and stop being obsessed with the 90s. Vintage Mariah won't happen!

when the promise of a continuation comes to nothing

Life is a series of short stories.

While others culminate with a full resolve,

some -

those that got us drawn into and hooked,

those that we would consider being engaged to in continuity,

those that made us anticipate the good that will happen next -

no matter how badly we want them to just go on and on,

some end in the most untimely and unexpected manner.

Life is a series of short stories.

As a tale ends, another begins; and it could only be better than the last one.

*******

I just wanna open your eyes, and make you realize.
- Taylor Swift, Invisible

the trip down

Ever since a friend recommended JT Manukan's Inasal, the King has been wanting to check it out to see if the claims of it serving the best chicken Inasal in the metro are true.

We were talking on Twitter that Friday afternoon when he posted something about the restaurant. It prompted me to do a little research on JT Manukan's branch locations and time of operations. After which, I invited him out to dinner, and the plan was finalized over the short-messaging site.

After work, I went straight to the cafe where he was studying. We stayed for a few minutes as he finished one last chapter before we hit the road.

By 8 PM, we were along EDSA, our cab making do with the Friday traffic, worsened by the dreary weather. It took about an hour to reach Sgt. Esguerra, and a few more minutes of coursing slowly through the busy street to see the signage of the infamous JT Manukan. Out of the cab, under the King's lavender umbrella, we briskly walked to the eatery.

The place looked better than how I imagined it. It was a little small, a little too open and a lot less cozy than the places I'm used to. Well, it was probably because of the rain, or because I was a bit tired, or because of the loud house music blasting from the adjacent bar.

In any case, we settled at the middle table by the wall; and with much anticipation, we ordered. We were both hungry, as clearly evident when our food was brought in. The King and I feasted on the scrumptious servings of pecho. I don't know if it was the hunger talking, or if it was really that delicious but halfway through my meal I already wanted to have another round.

Through the course, the King and I talked about frenemies, acquaintances and common friends; how X met Y, how B knew J, and how A is connected to everyone else. This eventually led to him recalling, "Ang tahimik mo nung una tayong nagkita."

"Hindi kaya," I said as I clearly remember what happened that afternoon of August 31st.

TO BE CONTINUED.

magic, time travel, the works, pt. II

But just like every study session we've had, every once in a while, the King would take a break from his review, and I from whatever it is that I'm doing, and talk about pretty much anything that's off the top of our heads - from the pseudo-philosophical topics such as life and love, religion and spirituality, to the lighter ones which include television shows, music, and the whole lot that is the pop culture. Because learned men can talk about anything, like American Idol or Hannah Montana, without the need to feel embarrassed or conscious about it.

In our four-hour stay at the cafe, the King and I managed to discuss the last episode of the television special, Breaking the Magician's Code. I've seen the first few installments but not the most recent one as I only turn the set on to play video games, or to watch movies. Anyway, with much zest, he explained this one trick that the Masked Magician pulled off which involved pipes. Through the tiny space between the two huge pipes, one laid on top of the other, the Masked Magician was to slip from one end and emerge from the other side. The King explained this through an illustration on a tissue paper.

Similar to what he did when we tried to scrutinize the nitty gritty rules of time travel;

[1] The timeline; [2] Branching out of alternate realities; [3] The concept of time travel as per the show, Sliders; [4] Wormholes.

and when he summarized the entire Dark Tower series by Stephen King.

[1] The Dark Tower being supported by the Beams; [2] The Dark Tower, the axle on which all the worlds spin; [3] Various versions of Earth which Roland Deschain, the gunslinger, crossed while on a quest to reach the Dark Tower ; [4] The seven books explained.

Admittedly, it was a lot more fun to discuss these kind of things than say, how pretty Vanessa Hudgens is, which I quoted earlier that night. It was refreshing because it was unconventional.

By thirty past ten, the King went back to his review materials, "May pasok ka pa bukas. Tapusin ko na lang itong isang chapter."

I was left feeling guilty that our chat ate a lot more than the usual time alloted for study breaks.

"Sige lang," I said.

TO BE CONTINUED.

magic, time travel, the works, pt. I

"Punta ka dito, samahan mo ako," he said over the phone.

I could, should have said no but I didn't. There was a heavy downpour outside. While logic dictates that I should just stay in, I found myself reaching for my jacket and heading out. Halfway through the gate, the King texted:

"Lakas ng ulan! Kulog kidlat the works! OH EM GEE! Halaaaaaaaaa stranded na ako dito sa Starbucks Jungle."

I replied, "Wait lang. Patilain ko yung rain. Paalis na din ako sana eh. Wala kang dalang payong no?"

I hurried out and boarded the first jeepney that came my way.

"Meron. Hehe. Kaso lavender. Hahahaha," he said.

Not more than three minutes after, I arrived at the mall. I went straight to the grocery and searched the junk food racks for a Kettle chips. I wanted to bring some and I, initially, refused to buy at Starbucks since they sell the same for a very hefty price.

"I'm here just buying some stuff. Hehe," I informed the King after which I found out that they don't have it on stock. Saddened, I opted for a bucket of fries from KFC instead.

"Where there? Haha. I'm craving for inasaaaaaaaal!!!"

"Ala naman inasal dito sa Power Plant ah :P," I texted him while waiting for my order to be served.

A few minutes later, the King replied, "Hahaha. Yup. I know. Di na ako magdi-dinner because of that. I want to try out White's suggestion, JT Manukan. I'll look for it tomorrow. Hihihi."

"Aw. Kain you," I said while crossing the street that separates the Jungle from the mall.

"Hehehe. Busog pa me. I ate lunch sa Grams around 4 PM eh. :P Kumain ka na ba?"

Yep, I already had dinner. I didn't bother replying for I was already there. "Hello," I warmly greeted the King as I walked towards his table.

"Ayan...," he smiled and took a break from his review for the usual catch up. After a few minutes of chatter, he went back to his study notes while I brought out my book, the same book which I have been trying to finish for over fourteen days now, and attempted to cover at least a chapter.

TO BE CONTINUED.

mananagaytay, pt. IV

Bag of Beans. Open until 9 PM.

The sign on the door of the store by the street says. I was puzzled though since the store doesn't exactly resemble a restaurant. It was more like a souvenir shop. So I asked the guard in a confirming tone, "Kuya, dito yung Bag of Beans, right", while pointing towards the nearest gate. I wasn't sure if the King knew but I sure hell didn't, but I was right.

The gate led to a steep descent with flora to the left, right and center. It was an alfresco restaurant, Bag of Beans. Laid out in the garden are sets of wooden tables matched with wooden seats that wouldn't move, unless brute forced is used.

The place was kind of creepy. It was dark, really dark. It was like being in a jungle. It was only the presence of the couple on the table beside us, and the unruly group of four who chose to sat at the cabana that assured me that the place was still operational. Nevertheless, I still half-expected for a panther to pounce from the trees, or a half-bodied creature to dive in and have us for dinner.

And then there was light.

A waiter, fully human and breathing, brought us a candle, and lit it. By then, our spot was softly illuminated by the flickering flame; much like the table behind me, the one where the couple was. I'm pretty sure I did "aww"; out loud, I don't know.

While waiting for the food, the King and I talked. It was different. The chat felt unrestrained, unbound by the invisible pressure of his impending examination. Perhaps, this is because we were not with the usual – review materials, books, laptops, and even Starbucks itself. Well, it felt like that to me anyway.

We gave updates on our workplace happenings. We talked about frenemies. We touched on stories of recent past, I-Nevers, and other subjects that I seem to have forgotten as of this writing.

And yes, we ate; and took more pictures, of course.

If we weren't constrained by a lot of factors, time being the most crucial of it all, it would have been a lot more fun to stay and talk a little bit longer. But it was pushing past nine, and we were in dire need of a means to go home.

Along the dimly-lit and deserted, foggy and cold highway, we walked in search of a proper bus stop. If one, ever existed in this country.

TO BE CONTINUED.

mananagaytay, pt. III

Despite the intermittent rain showers, more people actually came to the cafe that afternoon. It wasn't all that surprising considering it was a Friday. In reality, no gloomy weather can stop people from going all the way out here. On the contrary, seeing the lush world beyond the glass panels all wet and overcast with the clouds as you sit comfortably inside a cafe makes you realize why you decided to go to Tagaytay in the first place.

It was the perfect circumstance to be cozy in a corner nook, reading a book while having a warm Grande Cafe Mocha; or studying, while having a warm Grande Cafe Mocha as well, which the Sunbaked King did until the clock struck five.

By sheer luck, the weather was generally docile when we went out; save for the wind which was blowing, hard.

The King and I took advantage and headed to the area which overlooks the Taal Lake, and took pictures. After all, the adventure would be incomplete if we lack pictures. So we took a lot. Probably closer to a dozen shots were taken. For each person.

Yes, even if our hair, my hair was all messed up. Wind effect. NTM material.

And then it was time for dinner. We went back to the main road deliberating on where to eat. It was a toss between Verbena and Bag of Beans. The former serves contemporary country cuisine and is in Discovery Country Suites which was apparently quite a distance from where we stood. The latter wasn't exactly within spitting distance, but it was closer; or so the trike driver said.

Aboard his three-wheeled vehicle, we traveled the now-foggy streets of Tagaytay; and I found myself grinning like hell throughout the trip.

"This is really fun," I remember thinking.

TO BE CONTINUED.

mananagaytay, pt. II

By two in the afternoon, I found myself trekking the length of Aguinaldo highway, back to Josephine restaurant, the place where the Sunbaked King and I had brunch.

A few minutes ago, the King, after waking up from his short nap, realized that his glasses were missing. We tried to trace back our actions and ultimately deduced that it was probably left at the eatery.

After eating a hearty meal of Adobong manok and the oh-so-creamy Mutya ng Cavite, we went to the restaurant's garden which has a scenic view of the Taal lake. We remember him taking his glasses off for a series of shots. He must've left it on the bench, and overwhelmed as we were, forgot about it as we left for Starbucks.

The King was nonchalant about losing it. However, I told him that I might as well check it out as I need to go back to the area to withdraw anyway. So after eating the cookie he bought, I put down the Skeleten Crew (I had barely started with The Mist), and told him that I’ll go ahead and look for his glasses. He stayed to study.

The journey back was easier and quicker than I initially thought. Archie was on his third song when I distinctly remember walking towards Josephine's front lawn, all the while thinking that the chances of finding his eye glasses were bleak; though I did pray that it was there.

"May naiwan kayo kanina, sir." A waiter warmly greeted as I approached the front desk. Surprised, I told him that we might have left my friend's eye glasses there.

"Ay opo. Sandali lang po ha. Inabot ko na kanina kay...," he said as he walked out of my ear shot. He came back with another staff who hurriedly went behind the counter and took out a pair of glasses that most certainly belonged to the King. Relieved, I took it, thanked them, and promised myself that I shall go back one weekend to try their buffet, thinking that it was a better gesture of gratitude.

I crossed the street, took out some cash from the ATM, and quickly made my way back to Starbucks. I made a beeline to the corner table and handed the King his glasses. Though I wanted him to be, the King wasn't really surprised that I got it back. Meh. I guess he was really keen on buying a new pair.

After taking a snack break, munching on yummy Kettle chips, the King resumed with his review. I, on the other hand, settled on my comfy chair and went back to my book –

"That was when it started getting dark... but no, that's not exactly right. My thought at the time was not that it was getting dark but that the lights in the market had gone out. I looked up at the fluorescents in a quick reflex action, and I wasn't alone. And at first, until I remembered the power failure, it seemed that was it, that was what had changed the quality of the light. Then I remembered they had been out all the time we had been in the market and things hadn't seemed dark before. Then I knew, even before the people at the window started to yell and point. The mist was coming."

Outside, the fog thickened as it started to rain.

TO BE CONTINUED.

in blue

A year ago, a friend wrote this:

"... in the midst of showing concern for these people whose lives I am trying to meddle with, I was suddenly struck by the thought that none of them, as it were, will ever mention that word to me. Will any of them ever care enough to give me a reassuring pat at the back when times get rough? Will any of them ever go out of their way to say how much I mean to the world when all I can think of is cursing it back..."

I really want to believe that this is not true, but right now, it's just too damn easy to feel otherwise.

mananagaytay, pt. I

The credits of a gruesome movie about mutant cannibals hunting down reality show contestants were already rolling on the television screen when I called the attention of the bus conductor. He walked over and I asked, "Kuya, malapit na po ba tayo sa Olivarez".

"Di pa ho. Malayo pa," he politely answered before starting to walk back towards his post.

"Pakibaba po kami dun ha," I said hoping it was still within his earshot.

I wanted to have a feel of how far we have to go before we reach our destination so I'd know when to take off my earphones and let my mind come back from the drifting it usually does when I'm listening to music. I looked outside the window and projected six to seven songs before Tagaytay. I checked on my companion, the Sunbaked King, who was still fast asleep as I gently pressed the play button on Archie.

Tagaytay was his idea. He wanted to study somewhere far. He thought of this place.

For the longest time, I wanted to get away from all the hurly-burlies of the metro. Preferably, some place far; and Tagaytay is considerably far. Hence, I tagged along without falter.

The plan was finalized Thursday night; and by 5 AM the following day, I called the King to wake him up. We met at the street junction a little after six, rode a cab to the wrong terminal, took another cab to the right one and made it to the first bus heading to Tagaytay with a few minutes to spare. Thirty past seven, we were a tandem of anxious, giddy travelers, officially southbound.

Among other things, I know this trip can break the vicious monotony that is my life, and provide a relief from the melancholia that he's in. I am pretty sure that the highlands would do well on both counts.

Archie was on his fifth song when I unconsciously turned my gaze towards the window. I saw a complex that makes for a rustic mall, and a signage which has Olivarez written on it. By some weird coincidence, the King woke up as I was about to nudge him. The bus conductor signaled that it was our stop. The King stood up and headed to the door. I took off my earphones, put on my sun glasses and followed him out.

As I planted my feet on the sidewalk, I noticed that the sky was clear, the sun was high, and the breeze carried a gentle chill. We were in Tagaytay; and the day never seemed so promising.

TO BE CONTINUED.

that guy

Oh, how the blues come in when the rain starts pouring. It's already four past five and I still can't sleep.

The mind keeps on drifting to thoughts of him. Like how how he used to walk with a distinct kind of cool, a certainty that only the likes of him could pull off effortlessly. Or how he used to be funny, hilarious even; he never fails to make everyone laugh. I remember how he's never boring while he talked about everything and nothing. Everyone listened intently; I did. Though he was a good listener as well. He will impress with you with minute details you wouldn't ordinarily think, but secretly wish, he'd take into heart. But it was smile that caught my eye. It was warm, radiant and contagious; the kind that makes people feel strong and invincible. It made me feel like anything is possible, even love; like we can be alone and not be lonely.

If only he'd notice that he is terribly missed. If only he'd notice what everyone else does; if he'd see what's inside, then maybe, just maybe, he won't be as fragmented and lost. And perhaps, he'd even end up coming back to me; and then maybe I could go back to sleeping.

The things that keep me awake at night.

*******

What if I loved you?
- Mandy Moore, Everblue