The memory of you makes me smile. This universe is just so vast for us to meet again.

Huling hirit sa August. I'm finally leaving you!

Rainy days are just good ignitor of gloomy emotions. While I was in the jeepney few days ago, these thoughts crossed my mind. I hate the rainy season. Sometimes I love it though.

“Ang lungkot ng ganitong panahon. Seryoso. Sa pag-uwi mo habang may kaunting trapik at ambon, malungkot tumingin sa labas ng jeep. Nakikita mo ang mga dilaw na ilaw mula sa headlights at sunod-sunod na pagpatak ng mala-sinulid na ulan. Blurry. Tapos, sa loob ng isip mo ay puro malulungkot na bagay.

Para maiwasan, iisipin mo ang mga masasayang bagay na nangyari sa buhay mo, pero magdadala pa rin sila ng luha, dahil ang mga taong kasama mo sa mga panahong iyon ay wala na sa tabi mo.”

Kyusee is happy

Today is QC day. And I’m happy. Not only for the fact that I’d be free from office and day’s work, but remembering the city’s special day brings influx of memories from my childhood—good, bad and senseless ones.

I lived in the city for more than a decade before finding another love here in Rizal. (Well, I’m just starting to familiarize myself with this simple and tranquil suburban.) I spent my elementary and high school days in the city and half of my college years as well, which turned out to be a difficult yet thrilling transition.

I met a lot of friends there. And made some enemies, I guessed (whom I forgot, if I had). I trudged

Quezon Avenue on rainy days with my sister. I memorized the prices of goods in Hi-top. I practiced school activities in QC Memorial Circle, and even biked and played in its playground. A lot of things have changed and continue changing inside the big city. There are new landmarks, supermarkets and sprouting buildings of call centers and condominiums.

When I think about its old appeal to my young soul, I just miss the church in Examiner Street and the National Bookstore in Sct. Borromeo branch now with faded placard. I also miss Times Street where I lived most of my childhood days, now seems alien to me whenever I hear it mentioned on TV.

I even thought, I was destined to grow in West Triangle and become a journalist someday—as some of the streets are named after newspapers.

I made myself believed when I was in elementary that I’d be working in a broadsheet after I gave up the Accountant dream which was unfounded considering my dread with Math. But that dream too has ceased. I guess.

I know I want to write, but not to be called a journalist. Don’t get me wrong though. I love the profession; I still get a chill in my spine whenever I meet a journalist or even hear the word. I just feel for now that I just don’t belong to the classification.

I still want to write. I just haven’t found my voice yet, and I’m still figuring out where it would be coming from and where my message will be heading. This dream was born in QC. From my antagonistic and rebellious poems, school essays swimming in grammar blunders, elementary news articles, unfinished comics stories, and letters to my friends my dream of becoming a writer gradually grew.


Until now, I still hold on to this dream. And still holding on to the city that nurtured my mind and heart and soul. Long-lived Quezon City! Many more dreams will be born under your wings.

Things come and go.

I can't believe this! For the first time this year I'm having a financial problem, mainly because of two reasons: the turtle-paced government system and failure of technology. Ha-ha.

August, you're such a disaster. But, you're making this a challenge for me to move forward with bigger and stronger strides. Let's see then who's gonna win, then. pfft!

que sera sera

I thought I was over it.

I think what I wanted is an explanation, or a good-bye perhaps, not the usual bye (cause I hate it), but an omen that you're leaving. Or blurry words of parting.

I think, I had the sign but disregarded and denied it. So, if you're really determined (though I am not yet), I'd let it go.

I felt that you fooled me, but I think I'm just over-assuming.

It will take me days, or even months, but come 2011 and you're out of my mind. There will be times I will remember you, I know, but those times won't bring me tears or even sadness.

I just do not know if I'd smile at our vague memories.