some thoughts.

During quick showers, rushed meals and short bus rides, when there are temporary slivers of solitude where you come and scratch my mind; like epiphanies, like temporary limbos where the stories of commerce and economies don't belong, where in the suddenness of those briefest of transitions, I have you.

Only that there is only so little time before I notice that I have finished washing my hair, that it's time to brush my teeth and that I am nearing the bus stop; and I have to be on my workstation and be someone else again.

So make me think, make me think of other things, of other things besides being with you again when having thoughts about you is NSFW.

come back.

The rains have moved back in, and there is solace in overcast skies again. They have come back along with the cold of early mornings, and the accompanying desolateness of daybreak when it is still dark, when I hold my pillow close in despair of that fervent want for warmth. I remember the singularity of your embrace as having the same effect of being home again.

There is the feeling of being adrift again as the constellations I knew have moved, as reality has shifted ever so slightly in some places and a major upheaval in other places. The feeling of dislocation only gets stronger now and I have pull to some of myself back in, as there is a feeling that there are some parts of me that I will never get to be familiar again; and for the longest time in days I have been waiting for some thing inside me to thaw, for some part to move, for gears to turn again, for the feeling that I'm fading only keeps on getting stronger these days.

The weariness gets stronger, and I don't bother with sighs anymore; but at night I still look at the stars and whisper to them endearments or pleas, perhaps both, and in differing intensities.

I know like the rains, I have to come back.

always.

It was a late afternoon on a Saturday and it felt like Sunday had come early; an air of idleness that came along with the lazy traffic and the avenue almost seemed lonely for the lack of passersby on its sidewalks. I stood at the end of the avenue and stared at its other end some distance away and I let my mind wander as the sunlight grew golden on the walls of the university and contrasted with the blueness of the sky.

A slow wind was picking up and I took it from there as a sign for a good time to walk. A deep breath and I took my first step. There was a vague sense of sadness as my feet slowly warmed up to a lazy easy stride; it was the first time in months that I had taken a walk by myself for no reason whatsoever.

We always walked whenever and wherever we found the time for it, and late afternoons were always the best time. Perhaps it was the sound of our feet hitting the ground at the same time that gave an impression of comfort, of that silent connection and managed to take the edge off of everything, then again there was always your warm easy presence beside me during those walks. Now, the sound of my feet as it struck the concrete sidewalks was lonely in comparison; and saying that I knew lonely was an understatement. As I slowly neared the corner of the avenue, like clockwork, I wondered about how you were , and vainly tried to focus on my walking instead. And that time my mind didn't wander again but easily stayed with you.

As I reached the other end, I turned to look around with a sort of detachedness that one felt when reliving a memory, I saw the avenue again and it was almost desolate as before. There was this sudden flash of yellow from my periphery and I looked casually at someone across the street. She was wearing a yellow shirt and had her back turned but there was a feeling of apprehension along with the slow dawning recognition that it was you.

It was you.

I was just staring; staring and tight-lipped as you held out your hand, not to me but to someone and the two of you held hands like it was the most casual thing to do, and of course, it wasn't your brother. Then you turned around and saw me and we were staring, staring and tight-lipped.

You were lovely, and I can still remember your cute protests telling me that you were not, everytime I told you so. You were so lovely, more so under the late afternoon sun, just like this. Just like this beautiful golden afternoon. I haven't seen you wear yellow for a long time. I felt something stir inside me and I was shifting, moving on to my side.

KAMEHAMEHA!!!!

And I started walking again. It didn't exactly feel good but it would be a lot easier now and I will miss that part of the avenue where they stood and after this, I knew I would always miss you.