How does life really unfold? Chronicling my post-bachelorette life one blog post at a time.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Womanity
My weekend was spent reading a book by Anais Nin. I am convinced that above all, graphic porn cannot and will not replace real art, whether literary or visual.
We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.
Anais Nin
And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
Anais Nin
There is not one big cosmic meaning for all, there is only the meaning we each give to our life, an individual meaning, an individual plot, like an individual novel, a book for each person.
Anais Nin
Shooting Nostalgia
Writing this post, I am listening to Duran Duran's "Ordinary World". If I don't allow myself a kind of centeredness, I am certain that there's a part of me that is about to collapse. I hate to think of my life in Manila again. The typhoons that ravaged recently, nonchalant people, the wetness in the streets. I am counting the days when I can come home again to the province, take Julienne with me and enough with this five-stair-flights climbing and descending everyday- now that my daughter is getting heavier and bigger. There is a kind of ennui building up, a kind of boredom... that too many events no longer seem interesting, but another circumstance where I need to dress up and show up. Am I getting older? Or am I in that stage where I had to be like a clay and mold up to the demands of life? I guess, if I were single, Manila is fine. But I am getting older and I wanna lay back and breathe some fresh air.
Or shoot cows, like I did last summer.
Or shoot flowers on the road side. Like I did last summer.
Magnolia blooms hiding in the foliage.
Cockscomb, hiding little black seeds inside.
When will life become poetry again?
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