Oh so peaceful here

an aching tooth singing

weightless.. whats that? is it like swimming in the pool or floating in the sea? maybe its half-awake in bed right before the alarm rings. misty fog infested outside a log cabin and you don't know the time and it doesn't matter. yeah. all of that maybe. when the moment arrives that i get to fly like a bird and rest in the clouds, then we'll really know. then everything will be different.

"saying you will is just another way of avoiding whats there."

historicity

so ok. memories are irresistible. they exist as evidence of whats possible. so whats this shot of our old toyota corolla doing here? well, its there for melancholic reasons. and also, sitting beside this evidence of possibility is its limits. its tangible and printed out on a photograph. yet staring too long strains the eyes and if your interest is inexhaustible, maybe even crack your skull. limits create the urgency for the infinite. it exists like a code waiting to be broken, such like moses separating the red sea.

the coconut is a giant nut

apart from a singing toe wound going "i am here i am healing myself but your not helping.. lalalaaa", some events have transpired during the day. a pact was made in the morning and broken after lunch. papers flew out of plastic folders and flew back in like it never left. the light of day over my shiny head is telling without end, "what do you know of the world? what? haha". it was a pleasant morning. found some fresh lychees and coconut juice in the middle of some flatland concrete business arcade. it looked like some kind of nevada casino-ish cluster of activity with its chinese seafood restaurants, bars, karaoke, grills, you know. that sort of thing. and then a fruit stand with fresh coconuts just before noon was jutting out of the picture.

i couldn't help but admire the randomness with my toe still there yet singing softly. it appears to be enjoying the trek around old/new manila.

indeed, what do i know of the world? and why would a noon-time sun ask questions like that in the middle of the desert? i mean, nevada. no, old/new manila.

well.. for one, i know coconuts are very tasty.

the moon right now is a ball of cheese

while capturing some old forgotten tapes (part of the clutter-clearing) i couldn't help but witness an audio-visual flashback. i see the kat with the helmet hair, a contrived four-eyed with a guitar in a basketball court. theres also the curly hair phase and the raging vests. a lot of footage of the same thing or scene in different light conditions that no longer mean as much to me as they were when i shot them.

i thought, how soon does something new become old?

flashing on the monitor is a look on my face, astounded.

then i remember how that was a memory.

"memories are perennial", a friend said it as part of a joke. i laughed because it was both funny as a sarcastic joke and for the fact that it was also largely a non-joke. like a boomerang boomerang-ing. a spinning top or a dervish dancer. its all in motion and yet in stillness. no, not any of that zen stuff or philosophies or maybe i just want to be different. or i'm lazy. or confrontation makes me nervous. or my skin feels very warm right now while the air is cool.

whatever really. textures.

pleasant flower blossom in the morning light beside electric light post.

porca vacca.

i will click on a button, shut down the computer, close the lights, and rest completely.

sleep then wake up

ok before the self-editing kicks in, just some things:

yesterday Aljor said, "life comes at you point blank". hm. actually that was the other day. now its 6:39am friday playing 1901 from Phoenix. what happened that year? Siliman University of Dumaguete was erected. That city. The boulevard. tipping towards sugar like an escalator for doughnuts preparing to get drenched in oozing sugary muck. and it still tastes good.

"make your minutes count."

Yay for minutes! and to that movie, Man from Earth, a conversation on immortality and cromagnon representatives in university faculty that went on despite thunder flashes from outside the window, interrupting the deep orange sky (light pollution, by the way).

fast forward and just a couple of steps backward to Cubao on my way to work and in less than a minute, this:

dreamtube

spoken word, spoken thoughts. what is a mouth for apart from another exit?

a charming scene with the perfect light, filtered through perfect curtains by windows.

and outside, the world calls.

roosters with its feathers flying not too far from the ground.

they were made for time-keeping purposes and proclaim it at all the right times.

cock-a-doodle-doo. and the one from the other house replies, cock-a-doodle-doo.

then we hear the chorus.

talking in riddles, icing on a cake. where does the good go when its gone?

a solitary playing solitaire. awake, aware, amazingly still and frozen in a picture that he painted when he was young. while he was dreaming. when the sun took days to show up and the Dark Nights of the Soul came up to him and debated.

"who cares anyway?", moonlessness said with a starrish twinkle in its eye.

"i'm only a channel for whatever wants to be expressed.", he replied.

"whatever.", said moonless.

"forever.", he whispered while writing this:

are reflections but functions of reflex?

lost entry from the genesis

eve looks behind her and calls to adam, "come over here, theres something i want to show you."

the morning sun was beginning to rise behind the valley and already the leaves were shaking for that warm burst of yellow. the blooms were on its tips, ready to be expressed.

he was staring at the ground. inspecting the procession of ants into what seemed to look like, a very tiny version of a hill. "something is happening here.", adam replied without lifting his head.

he bends down to have a closer look. "so this is how mountains are created..."

it was 6:21am and the sun was finally up. with its yellow came the blue and reds and the purples. the trees began to talk amongst themselves while birds delivered their message across the land. eve was still standing, head turned towards a scene with a man bent towards the ground and the valley, oblivious, went on with the daily ritual.

the great contentment exercise

ah energies. its like sitting in a garden and witnessing the seasons pass by. the scent of the air won't ever be quite the same as the last wiff, breath, moment of recognition.

Oxytocin. a friend mentions it in the middle of a digital (chat) discussion about conflictions, snacking, (and on my head) time and having very little of it to spend on pleasurable experiences. say like, sleeping, snuggling or hugging children - and also grown ups. and also pets, thats nice too. and yes touch is so very special. so special that it releases a special hormone called Oxytocin, also known as "legal extacy". once the idea registered in my brain, a mental hand flips through that binder of memories to look for any possible evidence supporting this scientific fact.

this is what i found:
- hugs were and still are very nice
- communication involving less talk is also very nice
- talk can actually get in the way of communication in some cases
- sometimes a gentle touch will suffice
- the best experiences weren't complicated
- the best experiences were the most natural
- complications often explode into humble simplification
- a pillow is a great device to rest your head on