// Ariel, on land.//

Squiggled this wounded tail

Scales, reflecting the sun

Trickled with blood, brushed against rocks

My salty skin hungers for water.

I have come for you,

Crossed worlds for you.

Where are you now?

// The 22 Me//

August 09, 2009

I got up this morning knowing that the same thing’s gonna happen. Exactly like yesterday, exactly like the day before yesterday.

I opened my eyes and then blur flooded my view. I was feeling physiologically heavy because my system is sleeping…still! But my body has been very reliable when it comes to early waking coz I stand up rather abruptly. No yawning, no stretching, no curling, no last moments on the wrinkly bed, because the longer I stay, the greater I succumb to another narcosis.

I got up quick like a soldier, marched around the floor barefooted, feeling the dust under my feet, particles rolling and brushing. Dust always pulls me out of lethargy; my reflex is to jerkily hop and slip on my slippers! My alertness goes  from zero to the ceiling. “Jeez, when was the last time this floor was swept!?” That was the exact thought I had the other day, and the other day before yesterday.

My motor was like a soldier but my brain was still in a state of stupor. I propped open my laptop nonetheless. And like even if I don’t have to think about it, my fingers typed across the keyboard—www.faceb… My little reliable Mac would always remember the site and would continue on typing the website for me and all I have to do is press heavily on the ENTER button with my rather small INDEX.

There I was, a 22-year-old woman who just woke up 10 seconds ago now mindlessly scrolling down reading updates from the last hour I last checked. I always have this feeling that I have to be thorough, catch up on people, comment on each comment, and then another comment. I always have to be that thorough although I know I have to go run to the shower and start heading to school in 30 freaking minutes. And then I try to analyze myself again if I am O.C. (Obsessive Compulsive) or not.

With all my courage I splashed water over my head, jumped and down like a frog, trying to produce as much as heat as my body could because the water is terribly cold as ice! I screamed but the scream I held inside my lung, such holding back makes me feel like my neck is gonna bloat just like a frog.

 Off I went to school. And because I wait for my bus on the highway, I want music plugged in my EARS. And always, always, like yesterday and the day before yesterday, I frantically detangle my earphone cords, mumbling and cursing as I fail. They’re always twisted together into a clump because I always forget to properly put them away after school. Instead, I  crumple it into a ball and carelessly chuck it in my pockets. I listen to the same songs, same sequence, same volume, just like yesterday and the day before yesterday. 

// A word.//

// my body is a temple//

I once had a privilege to meet a beautiful woman— a mother of five wonderful children, a woman who has been through hell and back, yet found refuge in her incontestable faith in God at the end of it all. She is a woman with an intellect that surpasses her already innate beauty, and I very much respect her for every bit that she is. And of all the people, she was the least person I’d expect to notice… let alone ask why I had myself inked. But really, the truth is, she is the most perfect person to have asked that question. For I know she would and wouldn’t understand, both at the same time.

She told me, “God said, the body is a temple. And it is perfect the way He created it. Why do people need to change it or modify it?” It took her a while to have finally come up with a question appropriate for me. “What prompted you to get a tattoo?”

I shuddered. She already insinuated her disagreement of such bodily tampering with her first statement. But I was quick to respond, “Something happened in my life. And I wanted to mark that moment. For once, I made a great decision to turn my life around… And I know that decision will greatly affect the rest of my life. A tattoo would remind me of that courage. So I got one. And I like to be reminded, for future use.”

She stared at me for a minute or so. She was looking at me, searching for a hint of bluff in my face, probably. I knew she was processing my answer.

Then the next few questions were regarding the meaning of the tattoo on my back. I wasn’t really able to explain the rest, because I never confessed there were other tattoos besides the one she noticed.

A few weeks later, I find myself typing away… making a little recollection of everything at that moment and what was going through my mind, how much I wanted to say more than what I have said. She didn’t know that she was the reason why I had a tattoo.

She raised the wonderful man who have greatly influenced me to reconsider paving paths for greater things in my life. The reason why I am where I am at the moment. She didn’t know that she mothered the person who have turned into a good friend of mine, to whom I owe all the courage from when I was at a point where I needed so much understanding of what my personal legend was.

I never really realized this until now. Her son was a medium of God’s love to me. And through him, I saw the universe in so much awe— how intricate the universe works to make things happen when you pray for things to happen. I owe him that. And I owe her his existence.

That didn’t really explain much why I got the tattoo.

But… I once told him about GOD’s love. This love is a force that moves the sun and the other stars (as told by Dante Alighieri). We don’t really need to reach as far as the heavens to bask in His love, but it is found on earth. God loves us and it’s in every way things happen. The moment his existence coincided with mine, I knew it was God’s love at work. “L’amor che move il sole e l’altre stelle.” The love that moves the sun and the other stars. I had it written across the rib cage that guards the cavity where my heart is contained. It was the most perfect “first” tattoo and I never regretted it.

My second tattoo is a paper plane darting in circles. I placed it below my scar in memory of my first vehicular accident. I was thrown off a big bike and landed on the side of the road, snapping my collar bones into two. I wanted to remind myself that life will always have fleeting moments of flight and weightlessness from defying rules. It is okay to be reckless sometimes. It’s okay to hurt. The only way you could ever enjoy life is to live it like a child (live it like everything is new all the time and that you have no concept of pain and suffering). I always want to be totally ignorant of gravity, to be free and weightless. Life is an adventure, and I ain’t ready to stop flying paper planes.

Lastly (though I hope it will not be my last), my third tattoo is all about simplicity. It’s a drawing of a feather that is slowly transforming into a flock of birds. What it’s trying to show is the simplicity of things. The mechanics of ‘aviation’ starts off from a single feather that was amazingly engineered by the Creator of all things. That although, as light and fragile as it seems, it is part of the WHOLE aerodynamics that makes flight possible. It speaks of life itself. We are part of a big big deal called life, and we are very significant as a part of its complex system, no matter how small and significant we may feel, we should always remember that we are an indispensable part.

I don’t think I’ll stop inking myself. I think I will encounter more beautiful stories/anecdotes in life that will inspire my next tattoos.

And until my next one, I’d like to say that this is my way of loving my temple. I love it enough to look at it beautifully with all the imperfections, scars, inks, and all. I want my temple to be a work of art, in honor of the God who gave it to me.

Pimped the desktop. It’s the only “change” I can do for now til I can afford a new shit. 

I really love the background though. It serves as a daily motivation. :)

// Backyardigans //

These string of pictures pretty much sum up an intimate night during my cuzzo’s 18th birthday. We did a little get together between family and friends at our uncle’s backyard and decorated the place ourselves. You may as well remember now that we (cousins) love Christmas lights! We are very much in love with starry starry moods— we think it automatically sets the dreamy-ness to another level. Anyways, here’s to a night of burgers, tequila shots, tear-jerking moments, and welcoming Julienne to womanhood. Enjoy the messed up hormonal changes, the benefits of looking more attractive, and the challenges of holding yourself up like a true blue Agaran woman. We love you!

// min stephen//

“Everyday, I dream of walking through the same place, a sunny patch somewhere only we know.

The sunlight permeating the dry leaves and flowers, emanating dreamy orange hues; I think of you fondly on a lazy afternoon.

I glare at the sun, I can’t fathom its shape,

but I am trapped in this somnolence as I immerse my eyes, lost in it’s dancing rays of brilliance.

It’s like how beautiful you are—I cannot stare long enough without falling into a dream.

The warm wind blows into my thin cardigan,

I can smell your cologne trapped in each fiber and it hurts with every breath that I take.

It makes me want you here.

You belong here… And I have been missing you since we parted.” 

UNKNOWN

// Pho Night//