"The beautiful things we shall write if we have talent," Proust says, "are inside us, indistinct, like the memory of a melody which delights us though we are unable to recapture its outline. Those who are obsessed by this blurred memory of truths they have never known are the men who are gifted... Talent is like a sort of memory which will enable them finally to bring this indistinct music closer to them, to hear it clearly, to note it down..."
...and suddenly I wanted to free myself, to quote May Day Eve, "from the brutal pranks of the earth – from the trap of a May night; from the snare of summer; from the terrible silver nets of the moon." With Icarian wings I longed to ride the breeze, breaking off the shackles that chained me to the ground, searing myself into the hot embrace of the sun...
-----"Passing on the Torch" Wednesday, November 28, 2001 GetAsia.com.ph, Etienne Lebrun
In my sky at Twilight
In my sky at twilight you are a cloud
and your form and colour are the way I love them.
You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips
and in your life my infinite dreams live.
The lamp of my soul dyes your feet.
My sour wine is sweeter on your lips,
oh reaper of my evening song.
how solitary dreams believe you to be mine!
You are mine, mine, I go shouting it to the afternoon's
wind, and the wind hauls on my widowed voice.
Huntress of the depths of my eyes, your plunder
stills your nocturnal regard as though it were water.
You are taken in the net of my music, my love,
and my nets of music are wide as the sky.
My soul is born on the shore of your eyes of mourning.
In your eyes of mourning the land of dreams begins.
This poem is a paraphrase of the 30th poem of
Rabindranath Tagore's "The Gardener"
translated by W. S. Merwin (Vienta Poemas de Amor y una canción desesperada, 1924 )
beautiful, you're beautiful, as beautiful as the sun
wonderful, you're wonderful, as wonderful as they come
and i can't help but feel attached
to the feelings i can't even match
with my face pressed up to the glass, wanting you
beautiful, you're beautiful, as beautiful as the sky
wonderful, it's wonderful, to know that you're just like I
and i'm sure you know me well, as i'm sure you don't
but you just can't tell
who'll you love and who you won't
and i love you, as you love me
so let the clouds roll by your face
we'll let the world spin on to another place
we'll climb the tallest tree above it all
to look down on you and me and them
and i'm sure you know me well, as i'm sure you don't
but you just can't tell, who you'll love and who you won't
don't let your life wrap up around you
don't forget to call, whenever
i'll be here just waiting for you
i'll be under your stars forever
neither here nor there just right beside you
i'll be under the stairs forever
neither here nor there just right beside you
I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times,
In life after life, in age after age forever.
My spell-bound heart has made and re-made the necklace of songs
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms
In life after life, in age after age forever.
Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, its age-old pain,
Its ancient tale of being apart or together,
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge
Clad in the light of a pole-star piercing the darkness of time:
You become an image of what is remembered forever.
You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount
At the heart of time love of one for another.
We have played alongside millions of lovers, shared in the same
Shy sweetness of meeting, the same distressful tears of farewell-
Old love, but in shapes that renew and renew forever.
Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you,
The love of all man's days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life,
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours-
And the songs of every poet past and forever.
I feel so confused. It seems like my future is so uncertain. Right now, I have several options. I can look for practicum work here in France for 6 months or more, but I would have to go back first to the Philippines to apply for a new kind of visa. It would be great of course, to see all my friends and family again but it would be expensive. Or I could go and study for another semester in ESSCA Hungary, but the monthly allowance would have to come from my parents. Or I could just go back to the Philippines and look for work there. But recently, I found out that our petition for immigration to the States has been approved. My family is planning to transfer there by June next year or so. My status is not yet sure because I am already past 21 years or age but my uncle is trying to find a way for me.
The big question is: What do I really want? I guess I would have to think hard. Each option has its own bright and not-so-bright aspects. Haayyy.. I really do not know. We shall have to see. Sometimes it can become overwhelming thinking of all these things. But in a way, I am glad. At least I am given options. It does make me wonder, which is more difficult: to have more or less options?
It is difficult to write about someone you know so intimately, a person you love dearly because precisely you lose that certain objectivity that is necessary, or else this may very well become a eulogy. But nevertheless, in a way, I owe it to her. She is my sister, I am her brother, an honor that no one else will ever have.
I have always believed that we share something magical. In this world of dizzying speed and new discoveries, it still is remarkable how at the end of the day we still look for some warmth, some comfort, and yes ... a bit of love and affection.
My sister has always been a source of all that to people. She is patient with people, taking care to consider their needs above hers. I can see it in the way she talks to her friends, and most especially to our Titas and Titos. I can see the way they like talking to her, and she is always ready with a story or two to make them laugh.
Last Saturday, October 20, I went on a trip to discover the Aquitanine region of France. It was for around 6 days and it was simply amazing. France is really a beautiful place, every village and city has its own particular charm.
But that was not really my original plan. I thought that I was going to meet Neil in Paris for 2 days or so, because he would be back in London by then and have some time for that. But well, he decided not to go. It came really as a shock because I had alaways believed that he would find a way, and I guess what hurts is that I knew he could have come. he just chose not to. I felt so bad, i even pleaded with him. I told him I will never ask anything of him again, just go this once. And to top that, while I was in Bordeaux, I decided to call him because, despite everything, I did want to talk to him before he went home. But he ignored my texts (I texted him twice) and I even called him. Oh well.. i really feel sad..
But the trip was immensely satisfying. Hahhahaa... i had a lot of misadventures along the way. To start it off, i took the wrong tain from Angers. Instead of Landing in Tours, I landed in Nantes. I remember I was very very wottied then because there might not be a train to Bordeaux, but luckily there was one but it would be at 6:30. I had about 3 hours so I decided to go around. I went inside the Chateau and the Cathedral.
It was a sacrilege, they cried
The way she shattered every mullioned pane
To let a firebrand in. They tried in vain
To understand how one so carved from pride
And glassed in dream could have so flung aside
Her groven days, or why she dared profane
The bread and wine of life for some insane
Moment with him. The scandal never died.
But no one guessed that loveliness would claim
Her soul's cathedral burned by his desires
Or that he left her aureoled in flame...
And seeing nothing but her blackened spires,
The town condemened this girl who loved too well
and found her heaven in the depths of hell.
Because of you, in gardens of blossoming flowers I ache from the
perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer remember your hands;
how did your lips feel on mine?
Because of you, I love the white statues drowsing in the parks,
the white statues that have neither voice nor sight.
I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice; I have forgotten
Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to my vague memory of
you. I live with pain that is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
do me irreparable harm.
Your caresses enfold me, like climbing vines on melancholy walls.
I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every
Because of you, the heady perfumes of summer pain me; because
of you, I again seek out the signs that precipitate desires: shooting
stars, falling objects.
Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you will weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow's springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What heart heard of, ghost guessed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.
-----Gerard Manley Hopkins, "Spring and Fall to a Young Child"
But because to be here
means so very much.
Because this fleeting sphere
appears to need us-
in some strange way
concerns us: we...
most fleeting of all.
Once and once only for
each thing-then no more.
For us as well. Once.
Then no more... ever.
But to have been as one,
though but the once,
with this world,
never can be undone.
-----from the "The Ninth Duino Elegy", Rainer Maria Rilke
You knew an instant of pain or joy or love or desire and you were never the same again because the darkness inside yourself had known so much brief illumination. And at the end of it all, what? A gentle discernment, a manner of soft speech and belief, belief...
The joys of Sunday seemed far away now. The licit sounds of happiness had slid past her. She had loved Domingo Gorrez with everything that she had been but they had been careless, and one paid for carelessness like this --- sipping coffee in exile, vulnerable and tremulous, because, in this wayward inn, someone had said a warm and tender thing.
-----"The Sounds of Sunday", Kerima Polotan-Tuvera
I go a spell on my heart for ya
Wishin' on a little star for ya
Kinda magic in everything we do
Running circles round the moon
Live and I'd die for ya
Get a little bit high for ya
Forever couldn't come too soon
Running circles round the moon
I'm moving over, you're gettin closer
Heaven is in your eyes, ooohh
Mystical wonder, flowing into our lives
Spirits are waking, to the love that we're makin'
Angels are on our side
Watching and waiting, catching the joy we cry
Out of my mind
Chasin circles of love, but I find
It's always you
There is something about singing under a mirror ball when it's going and the lights are down and that thing's moving on its axis, shining up the world in its kind of Coca-Cola moment kind of way. I don't know, it's really romantic and it's rock 'n' roll, it's glam, it's all those amazing things that I think about when I think about music and the lifestyle...
---Sarah McLachlan, interview on her album Mirrorball
It's strange how travel modifies vision. It turns the eye inward even as
it absorbs everything new in sight. A sight or an experience, the very
act of being outside your comfort zone, makes you rethink the
parameters you've just stepped out of, and throws the windows of
your mind so wide open until it's as vast as the sky, and your very
nerve endings grow eyes of their own.
I like to go places on my own, for while it makes me vulnerable and
open to other people whose logic, speech, routines, habits or beliefs
may or may not resemble mine, it gives me insight to what I may not
have known of myself. I can forget myself in another place, only to
realize what I’m capable of, and what I will never do in this lifetime,
and what I could become.
Travel is an all-night, interesting and intoxicating drink fest with a
stranger who may or may not, come daylight, be your friend forever.
But the hangover lasts a lifetime.
-----"Worldwide" from Legmanila.com, Tara FT Sering
The greatest weight.-- What, if some day or night a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: "This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more; and there will be nothing new in it, but every pain and every joy and every thought and sigh and everything unutterably small or great in your life will have to return to you, all in the same succession and sequence - even this spider and this moonlight between the trees, and even this moment and I myself. The eternal hourglass of existence is turned upside down again and again, and you with it, speck of dust!"
Would you not throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse the demon who spoke thus?... Or how well disposed would you have to become to yourself and to life to crave nothing more fervently than this ultimate eternal confirmation and seal?
-----from Nietzsche's The Gay Science, s.341, Walter Kaufmann transl.
The heat is going out of me/ The heart is going out of me ...
And though she cannot remember she cannot forget ...
Clutching a fistful of sand ...
What ties me to you is guilt ...
I crossed two rivers and wept by one ...
I am the beast at the end of the rope Happy and free ...
In the heat of her hands, I thought,
This is the campfire that mocks the sun.
This place will warm me, feed me and care for me.
I will hold on to this pulse against other rhythms.
The world will come and go in the tide of a day
But here is her hand with my future in its palm
"Perhaps it is so easy to become obsessed with beauty because of its fleeting, transitory nature. A girl on a jeepney ride. A night in a ballroom. A face in a photograph. Things one cannot hold on to. Things one remembers wistfully when one is trying to write. Things that, no matter how hard you try to associate them with each other, still will not cohere into anything even vaguely resembling a point. "
-----"What We Talk About When We Talk About Looks" from Legmanila.com, Luis Joaquin M. Katigbak
"Yes, I know. You haven't the slightest idea what I'm talking about. Beauty has long since disappeared. It has slipped beneath the surface of the noise, the noise of words, sunk deep as Atlantis. The only thing left of it is the word, whose meaning loses clarity from year to year."
It is August 07, 2001 today. In 5 weeks time, I will be going to France for further studies. I received a scholarship grant which is a joint project of Ateneo de Manila University, ESSCA Universite, and l'Ambassade de France aux Manille. I will be studying management in ESSCA for 1-2 semesters. After that, I can opt to stay longer for a internship in a French company. I am hoping that I will be able to have that internship because I believe that it is an invaluable experience.
I only found out about this recently and my mind is still out of sorts. There are so many things to prepare; visas, letters of acceptance, money problems, etc. On the other hand, I also want to say goodbye to all my friends properly. It is strange how fate surprises us. I was already given the chance to go to France before and I stayed there for a month. It was an exhilarating experience, but I never thought that I would be able to go back so soon. In a way, I have already started to narrow down my options, work first, save money and maybe study again after. To be able to study again is really one of my most personal desires, to learn more about this world, about this life.
This opportunity serves so many purposes and means so many things to me. 1st, I believe that this step will solidify my credentials because as an MIS graduate, I am not so skilled in management. I hope that with this opportunity I will be able to improve my skills in management, be more adaptable and learn newer ways, methods of managing businesses especially from a European first world country perspective. 2nd, it is a chance to learn more about a different culture, see more of the world, make new friends, expose myself to new and vibrant ideas. I also believe that this will open more doors for me, to study or work at other places. The opportunities are vast. 3rd, it will strengthen and help me become more of a person me as I learn to adjust and cope living in another country. It will be difficult, I know but I know that this is just another challenge. Everything has a price, I know.
I know I will miss many people, all my loved ones. It will be my 1st time not to spend Christmas at home. I probably will not be able to attend my Shobe’s graduation. It saddens me but I know they understand. In a way, we will always be together.
Sometimes, everything can be so confusing. A myriad of emotions, sadness, joy, excitement, wonder, fear, ecstasy… all mixed up inside me. I feel very lucky indeed, to be given another chance to go to Europe and study is something I know most people would want but are rarely given the chance. In a way, I feel I am going there not just for me or my school or my family, but also in behalf of all those whose dream it is to go there. In a way, it has become my responsibility to do well for all of us.
I am happy. Another adventure is beginning and who knows where it will end? If it will end…
Bonjour a tous! I have just created my own personal space on the Internet (finally). Here you will find my thoughts on various topics, ranging from politics, sociology, theater, films, philosophy, God, goodness, life, death, love ...
Please drop by once in a while to see any latest updates. This will also serve as a diary of sorts where i will post my latest adventures. :) See you then.
I like stories. Whether they're of random strangers or close friends, people's stories hold me spellbound.
Every story leads us to an insight: Who are we? Why do we do the things we do? Why are we here, and not there?
Email me: email@example.com
Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress Susan Jane Gilman
In her memoir, Susan Jane talked about growing up uncool as a white kid in a tough Puerto Rican neighborhood, dreaming to be a ballerina, chasing after rock stars, having sex for the very first time.
She brings us back to the best (and the worst) parts of our childhood and our youth, helping us realize things are never as good (or as bad) as we remember them to be.
For Emma, Forever Ago Bon Hiver
Justin Veron, also known as Bon Iver, spent four months alone in a log cabin in the mountains of Wisconsin after the break-up of his band, DeYarmond Edison in 2006.
"The name refers to someone in my past, and it's not her real name," Veron said in an interview about the title of his album. "The dedication is not just to her, it's about the end of an entire era. The entire context of my life at that time was tied to this person, and this record is a way for me to flee from this thing."
For Emma captures the sound of broken and quiet isolation, wraps it in a beautiful package, and delivers it to your door with a beating, bruised heart.