sneaky you

Just this afternoon, I found myself looking back as if scanning tidbits of events that happened in my life. Most part is surprisingly great and crazy at the same time. There were characters present in the scenes that vividly remind me of their significance in my old self but are no longer seen in my recent. Funny how I started with our small house along the riverbanks, beautifully surrounded by bamboo trees near the dike. There were big holes in the dike where I would catch a snake staring at me, a few times in a day. One very shiny, colorful snake even shared a space with my toys in the house one morning. While playing with my friends under a coffee tree, we looked up and spotted not just two but three long limbless reptiles clinging on the branches. This must be the reason why I am not afraid of sneaky and snake-like creatures around. I am so used to their gazes long before.

DEATH of a Father

It was an unforgettable phone call from the Philippines that woke me up from my cold bed in Singapore, two years ago.

I could only hear my mother's sob. Without words being uttered, it only took a second for me to realize that we have lost my dear father. His death was expected for it was a long battle for him and for the family... yet the excruciating strike of torment hit me and it was unbearable. It was an unbearable thought that I could no longer see my father again, no longer converse with him, no longer share a beautiful morning in the balcony with our cups of coffee and no longer embrace him again.

Today, I would like to ask a favor from you... please look at your father in the eye, talk to him, spend time with him over a cup of coffee or give him a tight hug... for me.

my niece, Maiko

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=444386798958521

missing my papang

I woke up to our neighbor's Frank Sinatra songs in max volume. For a second there, I thought it was my father I was listening to. Oh God, I miss him. I miss him so much. :(

my snores

i am not a professional writer. yes, i am a graduate of communication arts and has worked for the country's leading broadcast institution as a writer/reporter but i was not that religious in writing. just this morning, i felt very lonely, stressed damp; all worries came in mind. i remembered one writer who refers "writing" as therapeutic. that's why i am taking my chances here and now. well, if it worked for him then it might also work for me.
so what is there to write about in the first place? for the past months, i am aware of the thoughts that have been sleeping in my head a few times during my daily bus rides or my usual morning walks, i heard loud snores of their thoughts. most of the time, i reject and simply shrug it off.
there really are certain issues in life that we cannot escape from. they will always be there somewhere (either sound asleep or snoring loudly)