12.19.2007

shiroi koibito [white lover]

*

"Osakini shitsureishimasu." He left before he had the chance to hear her say "Otsukaresamadesu."

The sweet iced tea helped her swallow down the bitter taste of uncertainty. Would she see him again tomorrow?

She saw him every workday at the office. She sat beside him. And not once did he glance her way. Oh how she would love to get to know him. Would his voice change in animated excitement as he would talk about things he loved doing? Would he like to spend time with her too, and get to know what book she reads and what drawings she paints?

2 years of working in the same office. 5 days a week, sometimes six. Had he known his scent would haunt her every single night, would he at least try to ask her name?

The gasping for breath struggled with the raging beating of her heart. "Tomorrow, I'll let him know tomorrow." But tomorrow never seemed to come.

It was the time when the snow started to melt. The cold february morning wind forced her to wound her arms tight to her body. She passed by a chocolate store and decided today would be the day. She grabbed a bag of brightly colored chocolate bits. Maybe, just maybe, the chocolate would make him realize what loving him this far no matter how physically close they actually were meant - bittersweet.

She arrived before him, always 5 minutes ahead. She placed the bag on his table and prepped herself to work. He walked in, strode to their corner of the room and after placing his bag on the floor, he noticed the bag of chocolates. He looked around, and opened the card. He then turned to her, asked if it was from her then shortly said thank you.

That night he asked her if it is okay to walk her home.
Of course he knew her name.

*** saw this on my desktop while cleaning out my stuff. inspired by the chocolate-giving culture of japanese women.

11.19.2007

loving the drama

autumn is when leaves change colors -
some yellow, some orange, some to red, then to brown
then they fall, leaving the tree and it's branches bare.

i was walking under these trees yesterday when a thought hit me -
these leaves make dying look so grand, so dramatic.
well, they don't really die, as in die die.
but what the heck, if dying is separation, they sure know how to make a grand show of it all.

and we die everyday too.
sometimes, just petty deaths, other times, big ones.
some call it growth.
i'd like too see it as an autumn leaf, changing it's color, saying a howling goodbye.
with no trace of regret.

winter may seem long, but spring comes in time.
chancing upon the togetherness over again.

p.s. i am scouting for a shirt that screams i love kyoto, because i do.

11.16.2007

and i allowed my heart to be tugged

rose: sent you an email!

Hi Joy,

Read this: http://www.caterina.net/archive/001082.htmland it will tug your heart.
But the there's a second comment below that will get you through :)

Happy weekend!
Rose
joy: LOVE what you sent.
joy: thank you.
joy: for knowing me and loving me through and through.
rose: hihihihi!
rose: i love you joy!!

8.27.2007

for ivy

her father sold his motorcycle when she was born. this was to get her room airconditioned. her older sister's nanny was now hers: as she was more tiny and needed more pampering. and she looked like her mother, fair and beautiful.

once upon a time, there was a girl who dreamt of domestic bliss. she dreamed this during a time when children were expected to dream of wearing corporate suits and climbing corporate ladders. dreaming to be a doctor or a lawyer would not have been bad too. yet she dreamed of house cleaning and doing the laundry.

being the youngest of a brood of 3, she was often teased for being a crybaby. yet she was loved, like nobody in the family was loved before. it seemed she always got her way, but it was more because somebody else always gave way. she did not ask for it; she was just lovable. even kids smaller than her adored her.

the girl loved to draw. she could draw anime characters, but mostly without eyes. she'd say she would ruin the drawing if she drew the eyes too.

and she loved dogs. and would have liked to own several. and thought not just once of becoming a dog breeder.

and boy, she loved dressing up. she always took care of how she looked. and she could not have enough clothes or shoes, or bags or accessories. it did not matter that these things would fill up her room, nothing would really be appropriate for any given occasion.

as much as possible, the girl was always protected from life's harsh realities. but her battles would not always be fought for her. that's just the way it was. if it had been otherwise, things would have been less fun for her.

so she learned to love, hate and love deeper. she learned loyalty and friendship. she learned hard work and shame. she learned how to hold on and how to let go. she learned to have fun and live life. she learned to sing. and she learned how to cook.

the girl grew up to be a very beautiful person. and is still growing up, continually learning new things.

looking at her 24 years past, God has been faithful. i have always been subtly protective of her (fine, it might have been very obvious at times) and i wait in silent excitement as i watch how her life continues to unfold, all by God's grace.

this is for the girl who will always be my little sister. and i write for her because she forgets easily, unintentionally, readily. a happy birthday to a sorely missed and dear friend, my shobe.

8.24.2007

kulit ni jessie hahaha!

8.22.2007

a prayer

dear God of all, Lover of my soul ---

still my heart: in the midst of life's motions.
quiet my mind: when discontentment stirs.

make my fingers gentle: so each touch be a glimpse of Your love.
grow my arms: to embrace the hurting. (as You embrace me when it is i)

help me love the way You do: giving, unconditional, without end.

8.20.2007

festivity

*

Then the Bishop pronounced them man and wife. Hana was watching Honoo kiss his bride. She wished it had been her. But certain things just couldn't be.

Honoo was of the Fire family. And she, a Flower.

Both races were so strict about intermarriages. And it was because of a very practical reason: a union would put one to death: a Fire burning a loved Flower or a radiant Flower's dews put out a beloved Fire.

So when Hana saw Honoo the first time, when his family visited the forrest she grew up in, she knew she could only love him with a silent love.

Spring was when her petals turn bright purple. And each year, Honoo would visit the forrest when summer came. She would watch Honoo play with his friends in her blue dress. She was content with loving him from afar.

Then one year, when autumn was nearing and orange coiffed her gloriously, she saw Honoo hold a young pretty Fire's hand. She knew then she had to at least let Honoo know she loved him.

She went to her father and asked if she could let Honoo know. She was, of course, refused. And refused every single time after because her father loved her so. And her father couldn't bear his Hana dying.

Every year after, Honoo's visit broke Hana's heart: Honoo's love grew for his beloved Fire and he never knew of Hana's love. Hana would cry each night and would dream of a way to make her love known to Honoo. Her father heard her cries.

Hana, laced in golden hue, went to witness Honoo's wedding. And she celebrated with him. After, when the ceremonies ended, she declared her love for Honoo. Just that single time.

Every summer, when the sun's heat is the most scorching and the night skies the clearest, the Japanese people remember Hana's declaration of love to Honoo on his wedding day.

For it was that time when Hana's own father granted her wish, that her love be known to Honoo, fleeting the moment might be:

Hana's father kissed her one last time. He then ushered in a friend Fire who whispered a prayer in Hana's ear. Hana floated in the clear night sky and burst into a thousand million golden ashes a little after a flower of different colors was born out of fire --- the hanabi.

8.17.2007

writers, they just write

read this in a forwarded email:

when in doubt, just take the next small step.

7.19.2007

on anticipation

so mt. fuji is next week. and i am not in the proper physical shape.

tso retorted, "well it depends if you're going uphill or downhill... "

aliks simply said, "curiosity and determination should keep you alive"

oh, they do know me well. all too well.

and dan gave me these links, as encouragement:

A Testament to Pain
Oops, I did it again

can't wait.

5.12.2007

of lines and trees


japan has long been calling to me.

no matter all the excitement i have mustered all these years,
i realized i could never be prepared for this place when i arrived here april 23.

the flight took us 4 hours.
now i am in a country who sees the new day an hour earlier than what i have been accustomed to.

when we were about to land, i peeked at the window.
i saw the landscape and gasped: even the trees would cringe if they are not in their place!

fine, we deplaned. english signs are a rarity here. so we just followed a stream of people, mostly Japanese, and hoped that they were on the same plane we were on and were heading for the same destination.

we still needed to line up for a train that would bring us to the immigration officers and finally our baggage. the people started to line up. 2 queues per door that would lead us to the train when it arrives. one person behind the other. very neatly. we stood behind 2 queues and the three of us made the 2 queues vague. and up in front, there was a crowd (almost circling the door), standing randomly, awaiting the arrival of the train. and you guessed right, we were kababayans!

out we dragged our baggage and suddenly it dawned on me, this is the airport and if understandable signs elude me, communication would be difficult if not impossible.

i volunteered to get us bus tickets. i asked, ""is this the bus that would take us to seiseki?". i got a blank stare, then the staff answered, "where?". i said "seiseki" again and since she seemed not to understand what i was saying, i thanked her and moved to the next booth. she called out that i was in the right booth. then lem asked her "seiseki sakuragaoka?" she apologized and pointed us to the booth where i was heading. yes, i know i should have followed what's in the guidelines for first-time travellers, but hey, how would i know that seiseki is a different place from seiseki sakuragaoka and not just a nickname?

we were running to our bus and everybody was running too: the driver, the 2 other staff that help passengers get in. we arrived on time for the bus to leave. but being there on time did not mean the bus could leave on time, because we still needed to attend to the baggage and ourselves. sigh, all the scamper i witnessed was just a prelude to this affair with a highly time-conscious culture. and true enough, the pressure for the bus to leave on time was due to the other stops it had to make and pick up passengers who were already waiting for the arrival of the bus, which they expected to be on time.

with apprehension rising, i settled in my seat to sleep and made peace with myself: randomness and perpetual lateness should be set aside, if only for six months, to embrace the japan of my dreams.

4.12.2007

UP and everything with it

so, this is how it is. working in UP.

less pollution.
student-rate cafeteria.
no-stress commute.
summer breeze.
rain surprises.
peace and quiet.
rustling leaves.
shopping center.
coop kare-kare.
winner bookstore.

(this is near coop. formerly a photocopying place. i bought gabriel's the general in his labyrinth and waller's bridges of madison county for 520! hardbound. brand new. great titles too. no need to stretch those neck muscles and flex those thighs when looking for good titles in booksale shops. give me more time and powerbooks will soon be forgotten.)
yummy fruit smoothies.
isaw and friends who drop by because of it.
(friends who wouldn't admit to missing me. fine, maybe its really the isaw, but hey i am definitely a bonus!)
mangga't bagoong.
a walk in the park.

yes, work is work is work is work.
however, UP can give google workplaces a good run for their money.

4.10.2007

twitter

rosemarie got me writing again.
she knows me quite well: one lazy lazy girl who does not keep her blog updated.

so, she offered a solution: twitter.

it only asks one question: "what am i doing?".
and i get to answer that via IM.
and i have its badge posted here.

2.26.2007

in passing

5 months passed and no words seem to come out.
not that there had been a shortage.
it is just that writing forces one to remember.
an errand jotted down is more likely remembered than an errand committed to memory.

memories blur in time.
stories spun from memories are most likely be questioned.
not just by oneself, but by one's audience too.
questions brought about by the confusion of
what actually happened and what would one have wanted to happen.

pain and happiness mixed,
overwhelming emotions, exultations.
a friend said "this too shall pass"
if one is counting on the passing, why bother with the remembering?

memories make one alive.
but the living already happened when the story was being created by reality.
memories are sweet.
as one ages, one becomes more gracious.
that is the ideal, but it generally happens.

so i write again
and count on the memories come the years
to be sweet and blurry and make me all alive and well.