that's what i call gamuni-muni.

06 September 2008

Last night we said goodbye to a friend leaving and hoping to comeback, and said hello with lots of hugs and miss you’s to somebody who’s been away for 6 months.

Iloilo is always a sadly happy place…or a happily sad place and right now I feel so normally abnormal. Missing college and the singleness of being inside cramped rooms in college boarding houses. Missing even the 3 hour dusty trip back home. I feel like leaving and going home. Daddy has repeatedly asked gogol if he wanted to come with him to my hometown.

So now I’m so corny.

and listening to susanna hoffs, suzzane vega, joan wasser and the Sundays.

All the moody songs these ladies could muster. I thought of making that mix CD that’s long overdue. For alfredo. A HAPPY MIX CD for now.but this is such a depressing saturday and wet at that.  Well. Alfredo Diaz already has 2 and I still owe him a happy mix because everything I gave him was just moody and melancholic.

So. I won’t make one until I’m sure I feel happy. (when will it ever be?)

It’s funny, every time I get excited about giving somebody a mix tape/CD all the songs that come up in my list are moody and melancholic ones. I have been trying to forget about 1997 and 1998 but it keeps on coming back. All I had were these songs to hold on to. Then I crashed again in 2003. And these songs were already gone. NU was gone. My cassette player is a goner. I’d though I’d be a goner soon.

Now it’s much easier to laugh although but still a little hard to live. And from time to time I’d still feel so 2003. and I have been wanting wanting wanting wanting to write funny but I end up with this. It’s like the mix cds…been wanting wanting wanting wanting to give a happy mix and I end up giving something that could almost facilitate suicide.

If Professor Diaz was right, I still have so many things to settle. With the world. but I’ve made peace with the fact that the world never really owes me anything. I’m not as angry as I was in high school. And in 1997.

Maybe I need another of those weekend writing your pain sessions. Under the beautiful ficus tree in the enchanting garden of Dot. With pandesal ni paa.

Just maybe.