A Warm Congratulations to these Three Ladies
Image is, of course, courtesy of France, haha. Again, thank you. Lots of hearts.
Anyway, this is the really late greeting card-ish-whatever thing I managed to make. Didn’t print it out because 1) office ink ran out, and 2) I’m pretty broke at the moment. You can also consider 3) we’re in the Age of Internet.
I have three girls to talk to now so I’ll shut up and go straight to the point.
@France: First, thank you very much for the photo (hehe); for being one of the members who took care of us during our Writers Club application (alam mo yan); for being one of those who’s always present during meetings, relevant or not; for being Mother F of the Blessed Sisters of Mercy; for being a kindred Japanophile soul; for supplying particular footnotes for things unsaid, those things; for being a persevering poet. I shall congratulate you for earning the degree finally, although we all know graduating means more than that.
@Apo: Also, first, thank you for joining the Writers Club, because it actually made an impact to the way I read and write fiction; for the unsolicited jokes of various nature, ranging from the mundane to the overtly sexual, for they provide the best form of entertainment to people like me who think of things too much; for supplementing the images and perspectives in literature I probably won’t be able to train myself to see; for the story about the Girl with the Salt in the Writing for Young Adult Class. Congratulations, and good luck on your journey to Law School. Creative Writing will forever be the undeniable mistress of your thoughts and endeavors.
@Trisha: Ate, pangit ang lay-out nito (clicky linky), pero pinagpuyatan ko yan bago ang graduation niyo. Also, I know graduating means a lot of things, and I’m just glad I was there to see you get through with the program. As always, padayon lang.
Awesome peeps, congratulations. Stay maangas. *Hearts*
kattriestophotograph:
Notes
“The most striking thing we recently did together was to lie flat on our backs on a field of grass, under the golden light one late afternoon. I laid down first, exhausted by the long walk and pointless jumping earlier, and you followed. Raising my hands to the blue sky, I saw the grains and dried grass clinging unto my sleeves and arms. I’m full of dirt, I remember saying. You said it’s OK, we only get dirty sometimes. The sky loomed vast and calm above, so I shook my trivial worries away easily like the grains on my shirt.”
***
I have poor memory. I don’t know if I’ve already told you this, but I rely only on two things to remember—notes and feelings. Thoughts and memories pass through my mind like a gust of wind hitting an open hand. I know that they easily come and go, that they are impossible to grasp. I believe that the only way to deal with them is to live with them, follow them, attempt to understand. I wrote down that paragraph above in my planner. Sunday, April 15, 2012. I wrote your name. I made a note about how it felt.
***
Perhaps the reason why I wrote this is because I wanted to make sense of all those sudden passing thoughts and memories we shared. Around four years of being friends is something to remember, but I would honestly admit that it’d be hard to recount all the things we went through during that span of time. It’s just… difficult for me. I should’ve taken note of how many bottles of beer we shared, how many meals we had together, sticks of cigarettes puffed, jeepney, taxi, train rides we took. I feel it could fill a logbook. No numbers included, though.
***
But I admit that it was your entry in your blog almost a year ago which urged me to really write this. Your thoughts about
transit, the memories you were able to string together with them in a pretty long entry about experiences. It was written during the high time of departures—many of us were leaving the life of an undergraduate student then, while you stayed a bit longer. Now I think: how do you find your situation now? How do you find ours? Many things have changed, are changing, will change eventually. And my planner’s filling up quickly.
***
I also want you to know that I still believe people can fly. And that the world is still rainbow-colored, even during the darkest days. I still believe things, still deny things that I actually know as painful truths, still keep things that I think are too important to reveal to anyone but my constantly doubting self. I still think it was a good decision to persist, to stay without expecting returns, to lose things and learn. I believe, like what you said, it’s OK to get dirty sometimes. I believe many things. I think I wrote them down somewhere.
***
I believe I should reiterate my sorries for many things too, things which I think we’ve already talked about couple of times before. One of the things we’ve never experienced is a full-scale war between us, although we used to argue over small things before, as some sort of hobby. But the big, real world’s already upon us now, and I feel there’d be no time for serious skirmishes anymore. Funny to note how vast our differences are, and yet we easily get along. Sorry if this turned out to be a short piece, too. Ideas fly too damn quickly.
***
According to my notes this is the third thing I’ve written and posted online for you. I’ll be frank and say I posted this chiefly because you’re graduating, because another transit’s going to happen in your life in a few days or weeks or months after you step out of college life, and that this is one of the few things I think I could do to tell you it’s all going to be OK, minus the assurance, since we know it’s bullshit to second guess whatever’s bound to happen. Congratulations. This is it. Real life. Good luck. Love lots.
~End~
*Because congratulatory cards are, um, common.
thrustmoistplinth:
cherururu:
chikyourisenka:
……
…………………
//ENDLESS SCREAM
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE/ FANGASMPLZ
POTAH JAFAR
(via professionaldreamer)
“This is hilarious. First, people say how so many actresses in Hollywood look anorexic, and now they are criticising me for looking normal.” - Jennifer on comments about her weight.
(Source: acciokristen, via katsantos)
komeeeksnialex:
Postcard from bakiback! It’s made from bus tickets! I LOVE IT <3~ ~
Ganda!
thestormcabinetsideproject:
May heard from the coughing news anchor in the radio that there’ll be no school that day because the jeepney drivers were rallying, so she decided to stay in bed the entire morning. She did not stir when her grandmother knocked four times on her door at seven, did not turn off the electric fan in…
