masakit

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, quiet and peaceful, like you were in the province. I was at bellecroft, having come over to offer assistance to Cherry Anne in checking her papers.

It was nearly four, and the sky was dark and gloomy – it was going to rain. Cherry Anne left the house for some things to do. Clyde and I were left to ourselves.

I stood in front of the mirror near the entrance hallway of the living room, running a comb through my hair, to all appearances okay though deep inside I felt terrible.

“Clyde?” I asked. She was on the couch. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” she responded.

With casual curiosity, I asked, “Is it okay to think angry thoughts?”

“Sure…in prayer…” she answered mildly.

“Really?” I asked earnestly.

“Yeah,” she replied dismissively. “Like, ‘Lord, mamamatay sana siya…”

I laughed. I wasn’t quite that violent. “Really? Like, ‘Lord, mamamatay sana lahat ng lalaki sa buong mundo…?’” We laughed, neither of us meaning what we were saying.

“Is this about a guy, Cor?”

“No,” I denied promptly.

“Don?”

“What? No! I was just asking a question…” I said defensively.

Footnote:

1) October 17, 2010

2) Does this post need an explanation? Hehe. Maybe normally, I would keep the authorial intent to myself, but on this instance, I'd like to try explaining. So, what did I mean by this? It means there was Event X, and it hurt, but I am not talking about it. And this is my way of feeling the hurt, of acknowledging to myself that it hurt. This is my way of talking about something I am keeping dumb about. And this is also my way of letting it out. When I read this, I remember the forest of which this post is but a twig. I guess it's like talking about something that doesn't hurt as a way of talking about something that actually hurts. Ah basta...ako lang ang nakaka-intindi. Hihihi... :p

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