What Makes You Happy?

A Last Look At Summer

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Puerto Galera, summer

Ang gulo gulo ng mundo. Ang ingay. Ang sikip. Nakakasakal.

Gusto ko na lang maghanap ng sulok at manahimik.

You Are Tired (I Think)

You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.

Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)

You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.


Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.

e.e. cummings

Advice For Today

“I think that’s what’s wrong with the world. No one says what they feel, they always hold it inside. They’re sad, but they don’t cry. They’re happy, but they don’t dance or sing. They’re angry, but they don’t scream. Because if they do, they feel ashamed. And that’s the worst feeling in the world. So everyone walks with their heads down and no one sees how beautiful the sky is.”

(from goodmorning ang goodnight)

103

Today marks my grandfather's 103rd birthday if he were still alive.

Can you imagine being that old?

Being 30 is sometimes too much to even think about.

A Month Filled With Awesome

Pieces of April. Things seen. Places been. Stories collected.

A barefoot penitent on the way to church on a holy afternoon.

People took the streets with candles on one hand, their faiths on their sleeves.

An antique carosa carries the statue of Veronica, the woman who wiped Jesus' face with a shroud. 

A parade of women all clad in black, veiled, barefoot, with thorns and leaves on their heads. Perhaps a pagan belief that predates Christianity?

Sometime after the the Easter celebrations, I took time off to see obscure coves and places off the radar. Here's a picture of fishermen bringing a boat back to shore.

Stumbling into a seemingly forgotten and abandoned ranch. 

a woodsman with fuel for a fire for the night. 

I could easily lose hours just lying on my back and looking up at trees. It's a still image of pines in the middle of nature's ballet.

Middle of nowhere places. 

Island boy

I always thought lamps slept during the day and go to work at night..

At another village, I met these stableboys, who despite of blinding heat, managed to smile and trudge and trek up a mountain with only their sandals to cover their feet. 

Stumbled onto this town's fiesta. Aaah.. Somewhere, there's always a party happening.

One hundred and thirteen years later, I would be born after this woman's death.