san juan, la union. i ain’t no photographer but i know beauty when i see it.
takrn from my meizu MX4 pro.
So I took with me to a place i didn’t really want to visit, a broken laptop, a broken watch and a heart that remembers. Queue in Savage Garden Music “I don’t know you anymore”. I never thought I’d be able to get a feel of how the song was really like.
But like all things, when sufficient time has passed, aren’t what you remember them to be. I had been suppressing Baguio in my head for the longest time and it had garbled my memories about them. locations of things and places aren’t where they ought to be. I passed by the house of the ex and not so surprisingly, she wasn’t there. She’s married now. (remember that)
I just had to come effin’ visit. So I took the jeep back to Session Road where most of my singular memories where. It was oddly good. I will make new memories here. This will be the last time I mention her… but it won’t be the last time I visit this place.
(fast-forward one year)
I can’t believe I gave up someone over a fraud. Cheers to someone who promises better expectations. I will keep a note to myself to look beyond that rough patch I so fear to tread. She’d probably say: “I told you so.”
her thoughts faintly smelled of
dainty strawberries, unhinged
from the plastic wraps of cheerios
and breakfast oats.
no freebies here but her smile.
out of context, as i prepare your eyes
from the obvious smell of carton and wheat…
undaunting and oblivious.
her non—challant one—worders say
more than those talkathons over…
nothing. her whimsies and sofies
have hooked my respect.
through miles and miles between
and unseen worlds of abbreviation;
we reach out with blinded fingers.
it is a lot like love in a way…
this fleeting. the countless 60’s
waiting for that tiny blinking green
that tells me it is you. i am
anxiously waiting for… bob’s voice.
yes, the minion. and you are the despicable master that i long for.