spreading the sky

Sunday, June 11, 2006

the opening salvo

Due to insistent public demand, I have finally moved my blog to this site. I have been writing for the past few days in another site and thought of just transferring the entries here. Thus, this is somewhat of a prelude for what there is to come. Enjoy kids.

June 7, 2006

My dear friends, this is my first attempt at starting a blog. Recently, I have been feeling a need to somehow document my existence on this planet. I've been flipping through old family albums and have discovered that upon entering high school, my pictures have slowly decreased in number. If one were to take our family albums as the only proof of our existence, I would have ceased to be when I was just sixteen. Hence, this is me staking out my metaphysical space in the realm of hyperreality, and hopefully eternity.

I have just returned home from the National Writers Workshop in Dumaguete, and am currently suffering from the infamous Post-Dumaguete Syndrome. I feel lucky though because the other fellows in our batch have it really bad. At least for me, i had some form of proper closure upon leaving the city. I was sitting on my favorite bench along the boulevard, and was just watching the sea for the last time. In my mind, I kept pushing back the inevitable instant when I would stand up and walk away from the sea. After much lingering, I unconsciously told myself "I think it's about time we headed back." Instantly, I felt goose bumps all over my body because those were the exact words of Luis, one of the characters in a short story I submitted to the workshop. The whole situation struck me with such poignancy, because Luis was sitting in front of the sea, just like I was. Luis also said goodbye to a fanciful sea-girl (a metaphor for his childhood), as I was saying goodbye to Dumaguete.It is rather ironic that my blog should start with a goodbye; a goodbye to the boulevard, a goodbye to the lamps, a goodbye the sea, and a goodbye to the whole Dumaguete dream. But what really got me thinking is whether my goodbye to Dumaguete (like my character Luis' goodbye to his sea-girl) was also a goodbye to my childhood.It has been said many times that Dumaguete is a rite of passage for all young writers in the Philippines. As for me, i feel that it was my own coming of age story, not just as an aspiring writer, but as a person. Does that mean i am now mature? Does that mean i am now an adult? I really do not know. But one thing I do know is that when my plane landed in Manila, I sincerely felt that I left something behind, something that I can no longer retrieve. It is to that something, whatever it may be, that I ultimately bid goodbye.

June 8, 2006


It was because the place was just the same
That made your absence seem a savage force,
For under all the gentleness there came
An earthquake tremor: Fountain, birds and grass
Were shaken by my thinking of your name.
-Elizabeth Jennings

In the usual places, you are nowhere in sight. I try looking for you, hoping that your face would suddenly emerge from the crowd, or that you would tap me on the shoulder with your familiar hello. Even just a glimpse of you, please, sipping coffee maybe, or smoking a cigarette, or just standing around the corner.

I walk in and out of doors, again and again, aimlessly, as my feet carry out the automatic dictates of muscle memory. I keep on walking just to delude myself that I am walking towards you. But you are not there.

I do not like waiting, but I linger. I wait quietly for someone who I know is not coming. I search patiently for someone who I know is not searching for me. And after this long and masochistic drama is over, I am afraid, because I know that the familiar sound of your voice will melt me, still.

I am much too kind for my own sanity.

June 10, 2006


According to my horoscope, this weekend will be a most fabulous one with regards to my social life. There appears to be a wonderful event out there tonight wherein I will be the absolute center of attention. Already, the attention whore in me is jumping up and down in utter glee.

Last night, I went out with Tasha with whom I made a pact. The pact is rather simple really, since it just involves going out with her every single weekend until the day we graduate. Come long test or mid-terms or finals, we will party until the freakin break of dawn! The only down side to this is that Tasha and I seem to be the only ones in the gang game enough (or crazy enough) to do this. It is so sad since the other people already chose to live the sedentary lives of tame and domesticated housewives. In my opinion, that is just the highest form of sacrilege that one can commit against the god of youth! You're young, why give all of that up? But if that's what makes them happy then so be it.

I was talking last night to Tasha's uber cool uncles and aunts and they said that people my age should enjoy this particular time in life. This moment is precious, since we are a)young, b)beautiful, c)healthy, d)horny, and e)free of economic responsibilities. You just cannot beat that combination! There will never again be a time in life when you can get away with such wanton hedonism and pure unrestrained joy.

You're twenty now, you're forty tomorrow, you're sixty on Monday, and before you know it you are a hundred. Aging absolutely frightens me because I am just so in love with life. But what am I thinking, I have a fabulous party scheduled for tonight. Enough of these ominous thoughts about the future slowly looming in the horizon. Screw the future because tonight it will just be about the moment. See you at the dance floor kiddies!


At 7:54 PM, Blogger pat said...

I don't think I'll ever dare go on a dance floor without my dubious summer fling to protect me :D

Let's hope you can hold out with your fabulous, fabulous life when thesis comes a-knocking. Miss you Ino!

At 10:28 PM, Blogger Darwin said...

Seize the day, Ino. This is your moment. Your world after uni will dramatically change: the landscape unfamiliar, the faces less forgiving, and life more livid. But in the meantime, party with wild abandon like we all did in Dumaguete. Wooo hooo! Go go go!


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