Tuesday, September 28, 2004

Necrophilia

Romance, poetry and anything personal were originally off the entries menu. I solemnly swore with the crimson whore of death on our celebrant's grave that no one will catch me dead with a diary. But maybe it's time to show my romantic side, after all there's such word as necrophilia. It's not romance with a corpse nor is it romance you've read with kissing lovers on the spread. But I felt it as something beyond romance. After all, this is a blog, an online journal.

A search for friends from the past is very hard but I was lucky enough to find some of them here in the web. I mean it's not a big deal but there was only an iota of chancing up with them in a big world like this. I'm talking about a certain classmate back in 5th grade that I harbored grudge against.hehehe It was not the rivalry you'd often hear from your competitive classmates. She was a silent competitor and a formidable one. In another sense, I was paranoid. I wish to recount those days but I only see faded memories of her smile...

So I found her and shared a few interesting conversations with her. We did a little of catching up and I learned she was more than whom I expected. I was not getting enough so I decided to go back to my hometown. Sadly, we didn't have much time of making it a point to meet up since we both have things to take care of. After countless invitations and frustrations, I reached the end of my tether.

When I had finally decided to give it all up to lady luck, I had chanced upon a familiar face in the most unexpected place. It was a face so pure and innocent...just like the virgin night. The world around us slowly shifted into a backdrop of black and white retrospect, faded with a tinge of uncertainty...then back. Coming from the right, recurring images of a yearbook held to my chest... came from the left was an image of her smiling back at me with those inquiring eyes. And yes, I still remember the way she stared at me, smiled, and how she feigned surprise; then they danced with the flicker of light that separate us. Rising up to the skies with the smoke and reveling spirits.

Watching her that night was like watching a foreign film without subtitles. I didn't understand a thing but I was wounded like I belonged... that she belonged, in one way or another. Mixed feelings of nostalgia and anticipation came over me and took me to deep inebriation. I woke up just as instantly. I knew then that I had to see her again.

Wearing that same old... (OK! I like to think it's silly but it is really lovely) lovely smile, here she is, singing the tune of the calm rhythm of her silent film in full color...

Note: I'm not in love...I swear!


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