Change my mind
Melt the strand
Of icicle that pierced
This chest
Let me believe
In magic,
Mermaids
And fairytales
And if, in case, you can’t hand a happy ever after—
I’ll have happy
Let me have happy instead.
I’ll take it any time,
Any day.
Facebook memories reminded me that I wrote this piece three years ago on this day. A lot of things have happened since then, but one thing remains: I’d still choose that happy any day. Sending virtual hugs to those who need it. 😊💛
Happy new year, everyone! The year 2020 had us all beaten blue. Hopefully, this 2021 we’d be able to turn those frowns to sunny smiles.
But before I flip a new page in this book called life, here’s my final wrap up for the year that was.
Writing has been quite challenging for me throughout COVID-19 days. I hope and pray I get to find my muse again. Even with just a few lines, I’d take it.
I believe my recent post, Book Talk: Stuck in the mood, explains how my reading life was during the month of December. Again, thanks to LibriVox for their free public domain audiobooks. I was able to quench my thirst for a good ol’ Sherlock Holmes adventure. For those who would like to give it a listen, here are the links:
For the first time in my lifetime, I have spent Christmas day away from my family and the comfort of our home. Thankfully I have James to rely on. Since both our vacation leaves at work were practically useless with the strict travel restrictions and requirements, we decided to just spend a few days on a nearby mountain resort here in Cebu. And it was indeed a well-deserved break.
You can read our experience here, Durano Eco Farm and Spring Resort: A retreat for escapists
I haven’t been around virtually ─ sad, really. I didn’t get a chance to read other people’s posts or interact with the friends I met here. I promise to be back… soon.
May the year 2021 be a lot easier for all of us. Sending virtual hugs to all. ❤
The excitement of being lost wears off rather quickly(p.21). As bad luck would have it(p.31), the fantasy was primarily an adventure story(p.33). As I grew older(p.35), I spent half my waking moments repairing(p.50), retaining some degree of dignity(p.65) over the years(p.66). I cannot tell you how long the ensuing battle lasted(p.81) — years(p.104), a few days(p.102), an hour or so(p.114). Why is it so difficult(p.175) to perfect the art of whining(p.186)?
Weekend cleanup led me to discover this piece written on an index card. I cannot remember what particular book I was reading or when did I jot these lines down. I’m curious to know though what’s on my mind that day… What struck a chord in me? Was it the thought of losing our childishness and childish spirit? Was I missing the outdoors? What was I trying to whine? Is this piece even finished?
Photo via Unsplash
“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.
Sharing another favorite from Em who is celebrating her 190th birthday today. I promise when I get back to writing poetry, I’d write an homage to this awesome soul. 💛
Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.
We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –
We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
We passed the Setting Sun –
Or rather – He passed Us –
The Dews drew quivering and Chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –
We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –
Since then – ’tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses’ Heads
Were toward Eternity –
Who loves Emily just as I do? I know I keep repeating this but I just adore her, her dashes and her poems. This piece takes us on a poetic exploration of the cyclical nature of life and death.
So, we are down to final month of this challenging year. I know it has been hard all of us but I hope everyone is safe, sound and thriving.
November — the month that was. It’s when half of the world transitions from autumn to winter. It’s when dead souls are honored and bounties are celebrated. It’s when creatives around the world try their hands at National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo).
I guess for me it would be “Nah, no writing November.” Anyhow, here’s a quick wrap-up.
Continuing my #throwbackpoems, I have shared two from IG this month: Two Ghosts and Her name spells resilience. November 11 also marks Fyodor Dostoevsky’s birthday who would be 199 years old had he lived today. To commemorate, I shared Writer’s Quote Wednesday – On knowing, thinking and doing.
My book collection is still continuously growing — all thanks to online resellers and Booksale. And despite the rise of scammers online, I was lucky enough to transact with kind and honest people who helped me find the books in my TLF (to look for) list. For this month, these are the gems that I got:
For some bookish thoughts, I have written Book Talk: Books or movies? A reader’s dilemma. and
Quick Notes: The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood.
Meanwhile, I kept getting sidetracked in between reading with all the chaos brought by typhoons, work and politics. I was able to finish two books though: Letters To My Son by Kent Werburn and Life of Pi by Yann Martel.
A big shoutout as well to LibriVox for their free public domain audiobooks. I was able to revisit once again the good ol’ favorite, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes this month.
My SMS friends and I got a chance to catch up and hike the Spartan Trail for the first time after lockdown. The heavy rains weeks before brought the trail to life. The riverbed was filled with water, the leaves were greener, the wind was cooler — it was the lovely day indeed to convene with nature. I went back to Spartan Trail on the third week of November, this time with James and his colleagues.
My virtual presence during this month was faint. I didn’t get a chance to read other people’s posts or interesting reads from the likes of Brainpickings/Medium. Let’s strive to do better this December, shall we? 😀
She finds loneliness in crowded hallways
He finds isolation in busy streets
They are two ghosts, breathing
Living in silent screams
On a bleak night she finds solace
Amongst stars he finds peace
They are two ghosts, breathing
Chasing madness and dreams
Free stock image: Unsplashshe can be the phoenix
rising from the ashes
the knees uncurling
to stand again
the heart— all beaten
slowly mending
give her a crown of thorns
she’ll be pain’s forebearer
After three days of undisturbed rest, I am back to the “real” world again. With this comes my late wrap up for the month of October.
I have already mentioned most of them in my last blog update but here’s a quick overview of what I’ve been up to.
This month, I’ve decided to revisit the old poems from my Instagram account and start sharing them here in WordPress while I am taking a writing break. But, apparently, I’ve only reposted two: we molded this valley of memories with love and Vignette: Stolen gazes, knowing smiles, paperbacks. The rest were just mishmash of random things.
If there’s one area in my life that is doing really great, that would be my reading life. My bookish heart was filled with joy this when James and I started the month with a book hunting day. We hopped to all three branches of Booksale in metro Cebu (Robinson’s Fuente/Emall/SM City) and took a few gems with us at a very cheap price! Here’s my October book hoard:
