Place, date and time, irrelevant

Yes, I violated the dress code and got away with it. So I'm staying in and taking it easy. Been stretched enough this week so I'm 'a loosen up real good. 

Tea for two, and the boy's been singing Ray Charles and trying his hand on the Beatles. I must be doing something right. Today, I saw someone texting while crossing a busy street. 

Bayo Whats Your Mix 30% nymph 30% elf 30% mermaid 10% human -- walang kokontra. But, oh, this schizo weather. How is it possible that I can't ever seem to get enough of you? Cryptic is what you are. 

The morning stretches out before me, like a giant yawn. Tori Amos, Fiona Apple, Natalie Merchant, Aimee Mann, Joni Mitchell. Spending QT with my girls. Slept the night away. For once. Glad to note the sun's toning it down a bit. Orange twilight, yesterday. 

12-year old girl, reading JD Salinger's Nine Stories. Am I making the right decisions? 

Finding comfort in numbness. I am currently obsessed with pens. Life's getting a little too fond of throwing me lemons. Waiting for the door to open! Pinks and paisleys, I love. 

Your coffee has grown cold. I need a Miles Davis/John Coltrane fix. Ah, what a noisy world this is. Been awake for 28 hours, and counting. You keep telling me to stop thinking too much. Know what? Maybe I should. I realize that to get out of this box, I ought to start digging. And I realize that to undo your sadness, I have to undo your childhood. 

I miss the coffee and the conversations. Was that thunder I heard? 

From the weekend couch:

Thelma and Louise

Ridley Scott, 1991

Norwegian Wood

Tran Anh Hung, 2010

Ah, daylight. Early morning, to be a bit more specific. Exact time, not important. The mildness that brushes everything is what matters: the lack of glare, the expectant coffee cup, the stirring households, the dew on the leaves, the distance from darkness. The newness of the day comforts the mind, that just an hour ago had been at odds with the unfriendly shade of dusk.

Every time we say goodbye, I die a little
Every time we say goodbye, I wonder why a little
Why the Gods above me, who must be in the know
Think so little to me, they allow you to go 
- Cole Porter, "Everytime We Say Goodbye"

It's Sunday morning, again. Still dark outside, and here, too. I will not look for where the sun will soon rise, do not care for that sliver of light heralding dawn. No, none of that for me.

Ella is crooning in the background, and Neil, singing along with her.

What sad thoughts fill the mind.

Coffee and Christmas

(photo from Coffee Mood)

I treated myself to a tall Toffee Nut Latte for my first taste of Christmas at Starbucks. Toffee Nut is the only one in their Christmas series that I buy. This particular cup comforted me. The very mild coffee jolt, the hint of toffee, the nutty aftertaste -- all blended in with my after-work exhaustion and turned into a homey, peaceful feeling. The day seemed in no hurry to begin, no thanks to the gray clouds smearing up the sky, no thanks to the drizzle which, however much intending to be propitious, still seemed like an unwelcome intruder to most, me included. Like most people, I have an aversion to rain. It depresses me, dulls my energy, slumps me down to melancholia. But this morning, the coffee acted as balm. The aches didn't seem as salient.

And so, I sipped away, thinking of the blue-and-silver tree in the office, loving the lack of greens and reds and yellows in it, wondering if this Christmas was going to hold any magic, at all.

Zero, in.

There comes a time when you swim or sink
So I jumped in the drink
'Cause I couldn't make myself clear 
-Aimee mann, "Invisible Ink"-

A couple of days ago, J-- told me, "when the water is agitated, you won't be able to see yourself clearly." True. When we try to make sense of things even as we are kicking and screaming and whatnot, whatever perspective we might end up having and whatever decisions we come up with could only be blighted. We find ourselves on the wrong side, where we started out. Back to zero, as they say. And zero shouldn't be good. Unless zero is where we want to be.

And if one is the loneliest number, what does that make zero?

Hay, gising na agad ako. Ang aga. Though I'd have to say, early morning can never be half as gray as twilight. Here is light, all light, no matter how much we deny it entry.

Sabi ni M. V. Arguelles sa kanyang "Matin":

Kay-kinang, napakakinang

From my dream: Charlie Chaplin's "Smile". Parang "Glee" lang eh. Geez.