Got to Write

My fingers are sore, my eyes are getting droopier and droopier, and tiny pimples are starting to sprout on my cheeks and forehead. And it’s half-past one.

But I have to write. I’ve got to write. Or else this flow of words will come to a sorrowful halt.

So let me type away. Type away about what? Well, what else do these fingers type about?

Life. Love. Leaving???

Sounds like Shiela.

But those are rather nice topics.

So here goes.

Life. Buhay. This Wednesday, I was able to pay the Philippine Embassy a visit. I went there with some Filipino friends and because of some circumstances, we actually paid the embassy two visits. One in the morning and another in the afternoon.

So there was a waiting period in between the two visits. Guess where we spent the waiting period? At KLCC. At the food court.

But no, we didn’t pig out on the stuff sold there. We just simply sat down. And did our own thing. While waiting.

The person I was with that time did some budgeting. I did some people-watching.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a stalker or anything like that. But our spot at the food court faced the park which was one or so floors down. So what else could I do but watch the people there?

There were these Koreans (or Chinese, or Japanese – I’m not really quite sure) taking some pictures of themselves with the towering KLCC towers as their background.

There was this guy walking briskly carrying some sort of briefcase or laptop bag.

There were these men in rubber boots walking all over the pond, scattering stuff over the waters.

There were tourists, locals, Caucasians, Asians, old people, young people – all there but all living their own lives.

It made me wonder. What were their life-stories? What made those Koreans come to KL? How long were they staying there? And what of that man? Where was he heading? What was running through his mind as he hurried across the park? Well he sure was a stark contrast to the rubber-booted men. Now did those men do the water-walking and stuff-scattering to feed their families? Or did they do it for the mere fun of walking on water?

So many lives. So many different stories. Made me think about my own life story. Made me think about those of my friends. Made me think about yours. So tell me. What is your life story?

Love. Pag-ibig. Storge, Philia, Eros, and Agape. I’ve written about storge, philia,and agape. I have written some stories about love of the romantic kind. (See: Marry Christmas – Ashley and Laura’s stories). But never talked about it directly. Never really shared my thoughts and experiences about it in a direct manner either. Well, not in this blog anyway.

And I’m not going to. Write or talk about it directly, I mean. Let’s settle for funny stories and metaphors for now. :)

Time will come when I would cut the metaphors and write it straight out.

Leaving. Pag-alis. Parting is such a sweet sorrow. But that’s life. You have to deal with goodbyes. That’s love as well. One popular high-schoolish quote goes like this: “If you love someone, let him/her go. If he/she comes back, he/she is yours, if he/she doesn’t he/she never was.” Or something like that.

So why this note on leaving?

Well, because this blog ends here. My fingers, my eyes, and my pimples can’t take it any longer. And now it’s half-past two.

Adieu.

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