I RODE THE BUS HOME. The bus sets me to mood. The mood of loneliness, as different pictures pass by your sight, literally and figuratively.
Sometimes the words of my film teacher, Sir Patrick Campos, make me think… that one can only be happy so much, but never “truly, completely” happy. He said, probably happiness is not really here. It’s probably not in this life. Probably, it’s after this life—the life with the Creator. It’s probably there, that’s why we can’t really have it, feel it, here and now. Prolly….
I had dinner with one of the reporters last night. At least that’s the only source of happiness for my entire workday. Just a little bit of happiness. Not full.
I’m beginning to think I’m really a loner. (Is this Charlie Brown speaking?) WAAHHH!!!
The Realization that SNAPPED and SLAPPED me today: Fast forward the lonely moment. (inspired by Ally McBeal)
(written 5 sep 07)
4 comments:
bus?
namiss kita kasabay umuwi!
bus sa philcoa after natin kumain sa mcdo ng kahit anong kasya sa pera natin! bwahaha
hahaha! kala ko professor ko ang nag-comment. kaw lang pala. ahehehe.
tara bus tayo ulit. wala lang.
wow... did i say that in class? that was a long time ago, and you can still remember?
so much time has passed! that was a long time ago, i know, because i had your class on my first year there in MC.
i don't remember what things i say exactly,
but, in my mind, there is that still image that reminds me faintly: a big part of it maroon, the color of the floor of that old CA LAB - which, upon returning there this sem, i found is no longer the CA LAB. and in this still image, i see faces, and smiles, comingling with chairs and cotton walls.
i can hear some of the voices, if i tried hard enough to remember - voices not saying anything in particular, just the timbres and intensities of some voices, the saliva that gets caught in the corners of the mouth. one of the voices that i can still hear if i tried is yours, a little low, quiet (compared to your classmates') but firmer.
in this image, i sort of hear myself as if talking too, if i tried, but i can't really hear my own voice; i have to mumble to myself presently to remember what i must have sounded. i guess that's possible: to hear and not to hear at the same time. memory is just like that, isn't it? always accomplished and always incomplete.
but i remember
...
like an ellipsis...
i said that, didn't i - about not being "completely" happy?
oh, just in case i had misstated it, or you have misunderstood me, or just for all the saying again, for all the hearing again, and all the remembering...i must qualify myself.
there are really spaces, places, in the mind, in the heart, in reality, where one finds that s/he is happy (like when children look back and wave at you, right?: nameless joys, moments that are, in essence, outside time; or, like when i am taking a photo of myself and my wife and my two kids, and i just can't get us all in the frame; or, just waking up in the morning, when, perchance, you are lonely that day, for one reason or another, but - in any case - you know for sure that you are free, that you are loved more than you can ever get around to loving, and the life is not an endless string of days, but an endless string of hopes).
i did say that, didn't i? i must have, because it sounds like what i would i say, sounds like what i would have said.
i guess i did, at that time, like now, as always, because moments - long stretches, and even short ones - of joy make me pine for the weightless and infinite joy that is to come.
good to hear from you!
yes sir you did! i have a pretty good memory when it comes to profound words of people i look up to.
so much time has passed, indeed! i've been working my ass now for the past three years, and three years it's been since i lost my idealism.
i think that's the thing with words--they're irrevocable and often unremembered. but the beauty is, someone else remembers the uttered words you forget.
it's good to know, sir, that i belong to those voices you still can hear albeit trying hard to. mine was low indeed (as is still now), but i like the "firmer" part.
you did say about not being "completely" happy and, i remember, it struck me like thunder then, shattering my ideals that one may hopefully climb up the ladder to happiness. and then you opined that it must prolly be not here. if i was to hear those words from you now, i think i would be like, OMG, i've been stupid all this time, trying to find happiness when i'm looking in the wrong place. in that case, i would have to optimize any bit or copy of happiness i find here in this life.
on the other hand, i might have misunderstood you and just made something out of what you really meant and just chose the definition that would serve me well. but i want to believe i heard you right.
nameless joys, are just that--nameless. you can't define them, bring your mouth to speak them, but you smile at the thought of them. i guess good stuff just don't have nametags on them.
just like you commenting on my page. it's like having santa clause right at my doorstep on xmas day--an unexpected but always welcomed visitor.
thank you sir for taking the time to read. i will always be a proud student of yours.
;-)
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