Monday, June 08, 2009

Delicious Ambiguity

Up the heavens and down on earth, I sat tranquilly in between: a place where I can reach for flying birds and can look down on colorful roofs. Our balcony is not a place where I usually stay, especially when the rain is too strong or the sun is too harsh. After all, I don’t want to end up all wet either by the rain or by body’s heat. An extreme weather doesn’t make our balcony a refuge all the time but now, the air is refreshing from the rain a while ago and the sun is about to set. The temperature was just right to drive mosquitoes away and not need any fan or abaniko in Filipino. Nothing’s noisy and there isn’t any sound except tiny footsteps of the children playing hide and seek in front of our house. Everything seems melodious, musical in quality and hey, almost made me sing. The sky is rainbow-colored and clouds serve as mirrors which duplicate colors and emphasize them. As the sky meets the horizon in a very lovely manner like stuffs from movies, the color becomes gradually deeper, darker, almost close to black who lines that boundary between earth and heaven, gives it separation hour and puts an end to an intriguing affair of what’s up and what’s around. It’s already twilight; almost the end of the day and the Master gets His paint ready for another masterpiece which surpasses beauty and splendor. By now, I can imagine the night stalker getting ready to prey on some other heroes and creeps who are afraid as he moves inch by inch closer and closer. By now, I can imagine that after I finish this thing, it’s already an official nighttime and that stars will be out, illuminating the gray surroundings but that sweet dose of imagination is reserved strictly later. It seems like the only thing left to do in moments like this is sit back and relax and read poetry or some other romantic novels by the great Nicholas Sparks while your body feels like it’s being washed out by the gentle waves of the sea and the gentler breeze of the blue. Maybe this moment is perfect if equipped with a hot tea, not coffee, not soda and not milk. Tea, preferably organic and herbal, and therefore healthy: clear and translucent and with a string lingering on the brink of the cup.

It occurred to me that if I am reading this post and I don’t know the writer’s history or things about her, I’ll assume that she is on her late eighties whose hobby is knitting or watering the plants, perfectly contented and glad about how life turned out for her, her ever loving husband and for her dearest sons and daughters, ready for reminiscing and story-telling for the young people and too tired for adventures but no, I am just seventeen and most of my life is still unfolding, still a profound secret to me but who cares? I love secrets and surprises, anyway!

Right now, I feel like tomorrow is still dependent on the dice I am rolling later. I maybe certain that it’ll rain. I maybe certain that I’ll read a poem or two but I am not sure whether tomorrow is going to be great or not. I can only hope that everything is going to turn out well. This is it- delicious ambiguity, like a story whose end will never be certain and will never be told.

Good night. Like expected, I’ll be done by nighttime and I was.

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