haha. i cant help but laugh on this one. not that its ‘funny’ in every sense of the word but it definitely helped me pucker up despite having a period today. no, not femenine period. dark period. oh well here is something i wrote some hours ago and thought never in my sane mind post in my blog. well i’m posting it anyway. hehe just a bit of a keyhole view on what goes on with me or us inside the house. Skip this , but read if you must.
Love is food on the table served hot on cold weather ( and may be served hot or cold again for dinner depending on the chief cooks preference. Be thankful you have a mom who cooks and re-cooks). Pain is to be served none ( be thankful, there was never a time).
Love is to be able to play outside. Pain is to be fetched home ( a mud six-inches deep are for pigs . . who ‘wallow’ "you show me a kid who resembles a degenerate qaudruped, i’ll you show you youre way to a cage).
to be loved is to be given a chance for education (aside from the ones you learn on television) to incur pain is to ‘out-wise’ baffled parents or to use what you learned as an ‘escape route over crime’ against people you love.
to be loved is to be clothed on clothes laboured with L-O-V-E. pain is when they say ‘no’ on a mall-wide sale. (yes, they may be dug up from a nearby ‘ukay-ukay’ but they’re LEVIS, GUESS, MOSSIMO. read, it’s SIGNATURED!)
to be loved is to be sheltered in a 24-year old house with a taste of Picasso’s Abstract designs and various interiors. pray she doesn’t acquire taste for a minimalistic household ( Yes. the teevee and the stereo has to go and live through a cardinal rule: you can’t bounce the ball on a just-painted wall, anymore, coz there wont be any.)
to be loved is to be given a chance to say " My underwear kinda hurts here, on the sides. don’t you think i’ve o utgrown these Barney briefs, the ones i got on my 8th birthday?" while pain is somewhere else, somewhere far. M
aybe in Africa where children survived on none or in Kuwait where they shoot children: Naked! But no, not in this house".
june 17, 2007
haha… you are mighty sweet when depressed, dear! =D
I can recognize your mom in every paragraph…and mine, too, in some of the phrases! =D
(bet you got the “period” idea from me subconsciously, though. =P)
hahaha… barney briefs!!! =P
are they still purple? or has it changed like a chameleon over the years? hehehee =P
ha-ha. i forgot you’re on the other side of the plane that day. you got your period yet you dont have the quirks. extraordinary. love that word. haha it speaks for the both of us. weird. im saying it. its not like theres anyone else viewing my blog. hence our private little world mir. hehe
Nothing taboo about periods anyway - for me, at least.
Our private lil’ world dwells in dusty book sales, aromatic cafes, and the spaces between the words of our favorite authors, and in fermatas - not in cyberspace.
This isn’t our private lil’ world, dear… I know you’ve got fans out there who are quick on their clicks everytime Friendster alerts them about a new blog post. Suz… kaw pa?! =D
but look. were obviously the only ones leaving a mark on every post . . hehe how was your dinner witht eh artists anyway? i bet i twas a bore. wahaha coz wala man ko didto. hehe god. kalagot.