Clocks and Courage

You said good morning, and there's nothing else that came to mind but mountains to hike under the canopies of trees, onto the peak where sea of clouds roll, hiding the ocean under the horizon. 

Then, I say, in jest, "Of course, why woudn't it be?" You chuckled, and said something I no longer heard. Your words drowned by the sound of my beating heart.

***

It rained, I was about to open my small umbrella, and I heard you say from behind, I think I lost mine. We could share, I answered, but, it might not be enough for both of us. You asked if it would be ok, and I thought on that Christmas village, refreshingly cold. With a steaming cappuccino in my hands, I walk through the snow-covered streets of the village, and you next to me. 

I blinked, looked back at you, drizzle falling on your head. I said, of course, but you owe me lunch. You smiled.

***
You turned your head up from whatever you were writing and said, that shirt looks good on you, and I saw Rome and their oiled gladiators. 

I thought I was going to say something, but, just replied a "Pfft". I hesitated, but decided to be on about my day.

The clock ticks, and louder for those with tails between their legs.

At least, I am safe.

Friday Buzz

Disillusionment shatters one's world view and comes in strange forms. Mine was from a Friday buzz, and thinking spirits are out on the streets to get me.

-* -
I was at a bar, and was just about to leave after downing 6 bottles of beer and 3 plates of snacks. It was not that it was getting late but that everything has become an autostereogram,  and an image is beginning to form. It was an angry Jesus telling me I had had more than my usual four bottles. Also, even in my happy state, it was getting unbearable having a few stares toward my direction, because who would be drinking alone at a bar?

In that split second of  clarity, I had made a decision to head home. But not before doing another " bottoms up" for the road. The walk  to my place would take another 15 mins and it would be difficult to outrun the stray dogs when I could not feel my face.

The street was empty and quiet save for the sound of my steps on the pavement. If it hadn't been for the alcohol in my blood, I'd be frantically watching out for the white lady. But no, it was shaping to be a happy walk under the soft glow of just one functioning street lamp.

I was thinking about shoes, and then some movie, then being late for my second class in the morning...
I felt something grab me from behind, then, an arm around my neck. I thought, so, this is how it feels to meet ghosts! I had always believed I'd merely go through them like air. This was solid, and probably gym-buffed. I could tell by the grip. Then, it said, "Don't move!" I am not one to dare and flinch in front of the dead! On my neck, I felt its sharp tooth. Tipsy as I was, I started to say the Hail Mary. Then I heard it say, "Hold up 'to!"
...
Ok, it took a few seconds to realize I was being mugged. And when I did, the man had already hopped on the back of a motorbike waiting for him a few meters away. Some ghost!

Just like that, I lost a few hundreds, IDs, bank cards, and my phone. And the most disappointing about all this is the fact that the mugger did not care what I was thinking, then? I don't remember anymore, but it must have been something pointless like afterlife, karma, or nirvana.

It doesn't matter now. That time, though, It was a difficult decision whether to continue beguiling myself with an idea that it must really have been ghosts over the obvious that I had been a complete twat, Just because you're on a beer high doess not spare you from muggers. Years later, I also have come to accept that it could have been so much worse. They could have left me for dead, or worse, done things to my body!

So, then, it was clear to me that there would be times I would not be as reasonable as I would like to believe, and being in such situation is something I could fall into if I ignore reason. And yes, since, then, on countless occasions, I have chosen idiocy for something else, and sometimes, as a mistake.

So what have learned? You ask. Very little.
To this day, disillusionment about many things is still a thing.

Sofa Tears

At some point, one must feel like he has taken in so much.
And I have.

I sat on my filthy sofa, and thought, I should be doing some cleaning today, but that I should also give myself a pass for just not minding anything, not even the leaky faucet in the bathroom. It must have been the general feeling of exhaustion, the slight fever and the headache that got me weeping like a drunk, but why did I whisper, "I am really tired. I want to go home."?

Decades ago, I set out to find adventures and build on a dream, but I have never stopped. I have kept chasing something, and though I had no idea what it was, I kept going, hoping that somewhere along the way, I would figure it out. 35 years later, I am still on the chase, and I still have not figured it out either. So clearly,  either I have missed it, or that I have yet to get at a destination. Or that, scary as it may be, it will never come.

Since the time I said good-bye to my family and start being on my own, I have been at it. Never stopping. Just pushing. Sure, I took some days or even months off to cool down and recharge, but with the idea, that I would be back at it. And I was. Still am.

Now that, for the first time, I am not ashamed to admit being exhausted, I have realized that I have no idea about the place I am trying to be at, and mostly because I have never decided what this destination will look like. I might have already passed it,  and not recognize it.What a shame it would be to have missed the chance of feeling relief and rested.

It's like hearing the sound of a starting pistol going off, then you sprint as fast as you could as everyone else put on their game face and frantically try hard to be one of the first or, at least, not be one of the pack in the back. Sadly, I have never asked where the race is heading, and when do we stop.

Whatever it is, now is a moment to decide.

Good Night

It was with a simple good night that I found out about a friend's passing. We were not close, but at some point, we had talked about photography and hiking. Probably, about grammar, too, as we both taught English. And just like that, this phrase has taken on a new meaning. What used to be just something people blurt out before sleep, and take for granted, now has become a sad farewell.

Good night, it wrote on his social media wall, as if he'd still be in the morning for coffee, or to post something I'd most likely ignore. Good night, like we've just had a drawn out discussion about rule of thirds and the last mountain we'd slept on. Interesting how this has created a euphemism for truth- that all has ended for him. It has also made it difficult to wish the same on anyone, a loved one, for example, for it no longer just means a good night. But does it just, really?

The Dare and the Wish

I caught it ever so slightly

That elusive stare 

that masterfully shifts towards my right

And that nervous, yet intentional calm

That only widens the door of doubt,

Extending my wish and prayer for someday

When I'll find out how 

the luxury scent melds with your sweat.

For you

You're sure you've done all?
I have and the wind says, 'Give up'.
But you've always wanted to be a physicist...
I think I've gotten old for childish ambitions.
You couldn't have been mistaken.
I have and I am determined to make it right.
And so you're leaving.

Braving Ignorance

We oftentimes squirm out of a situation that exposes our weakness, like knowing something that everybody seems to get but we don't. I remember how a group of friends in school before talking about Ang Huling El Bimbo and how the song was sad, and all I could do was nod and be as quiet as I could, and pray for the bell to ring. Fast.