Let me resonate Sylvia Plath today, for
I am back after a silenced year in writing.
Rekindled with my old musings,
I am so at fire to write about the change that transpired throughout the years— of new line of thoughts, perspectives, hopes, and dreams.
I am definitely happy to have found a way again to this site.
If you want to be totally free be an amoeba. A free floating, single celled amoeba.
Searching for freedom, I went away from the city, a place where hideous, greedy, dominating creatures abode.
So I climbed the mountains.
But alas! In the mountains, there were hungry wolves of woe and I suffocated in my igloo.
So I went to the sea.
But god forsaken place it was. I had starved then cried then choked when I was left with no choice but to become a monster; killing, grilling my delectable friends from the sea.
I longed for nothing but for freedom but men were mice and god was not nice.
But I suppose men and god had no power over an amoeba,
for they can’t dominate the mighty, free floating amoeba.
Famed for witchcraft and sorcery in the Philippines, Siquijor island offers a mystical view of pacific sunset. The enchanting scenery of a long-stretched white sand beach kissing a vast emerald green water as the huge flaming orb sets is enough to be called– MAGIC.
*Manoy with a saw: sitting, leaning, head buzzing.
I shifted my eyes off you.
To touch those bony shoulders underneath a thin cotton shirt and awaken you from your stupor..
To glimpse those eyes and ascertain the suffering gaze that I’ve formed in my head..
That’s what I had supposed to do.
But I’ve been living this bourgeoise life, constantly distracted, affected, pained by nuisances. How could I know that my troubles are trifles from yours?
5 paces.. I saw you stand – limply, shaky with the help of someone.
6 paces.. A heavy light pounded and shrank me.
I’m nothingness, I’m meaningless.
* older male
T’was a cosy day:
cold January air, fine drizzle.
hubby with a guitar,
and a cat..
Now I’m going to be like Anny, I’m going to outlive myself. Eat, sleep. Sleep, eat. Exist slowly, gently, like these trees, like a puddle of water, like the red seat in the tram. -Antoine Roquentin