old notes 2

28 march 2005 (yudi may year na siya!!!)

( Written last year. Somewhere I can’t remember.)

 

This notebook smells of old memories and dried flowers and dried tears and things that want to keep on coming back, forcing their way into the “fast recall” box of my brains.

 

This notebook smells of the gaddam grasses in bacolod. Of loneliness and alienation in cebu. Of familiarity in sipalay. And the romanticism, sadness, desperation and nostalgia in miag-ao.

 

I wish I could take them all back because yesterday they all came back on the way home in an ultramegafast jeepney to the city. (my hair flying everywhere.)

 

I was so reluctant for all of this to end.  Because I was always never prepared for the ending. The finale. Grand or not. For the times when we all had to pack…for the nth time…and head home, in early evening, tired, cold and hungry but didn’t want it all to end, arrive late at night crying from nostalgia.

 

Oh.

 

I really don’t want it to end. I do not want to be in front of the computer and listen to sponge and elliot smith and ash and stabbing westward break my heart. (such a lousy selection, but you have to live with it.)

 

I miss you and I miss you more and more the more and more I do it. Repeatedly. Never ending. I miss all the faces. They all now look oh so familiar. Even your voices. Even the smell of sweat and your dirty laundry and the way you puffed your cigarette. The taste of the coffee that you take. The way you hesitantly kissed me that night. And the way I hesitantly kissed back only to realize it’s just too impossible.

 

Packshet.

 

I have to go home.