10min2

the tempest roars its rage outside, a blinding force of rain and wind whipping through the trees, tires and homes, everyone afraid of its fury. can't just stay home but everyone battles through and meekly finds footholds in the terror, one feeble step at a time, moving forward as if the day was ordinary when everything about today is extraordinary. a striking resemblence to the monsoons and hurricans of my third world country who just a couple of weeks ago suffered through a devastation of a modern day biblical cleansing. rooftops became boats with tiny brown fingers holding and feet clutching at what from the look of it paper rafts that inevitably disintegrated as rivers became oceans. that storm left hundreds of people dead. the corpses of what used to be fathers, mothers, sons and daughters joined in the soup of dead animals and trees still whirling in manila bay. the storm continues to rage, as if its first visitation was just a flirtation before the real fucking over begins. after the government officials have finished stuffing their pockets of the last dollar donated, right before the victims have barely gained their breath over the deluge, the storm rages on. outside is tame in comparison. tsunami to a drizzle. the fear and excitement is still the same. such a delight to hear the wind push against the windows, the rain soaking in, the cold lingering at the tips of my fingers. the world whispering in my ear that i am just a visitor. i am just passing through.

ten minutes

freeflow, freewiritng, ten minutes without stopping just a moment to stop time in the full length of the day, no super powers, a bucket to just spew out the daily grind and garbage the distractions the fatigue of fog that threatens to deaden all my senses. the two week long head cold that won't let up, aching muscles and bones only after a mile of walking, how weak have i gotten, could no longer bear my own weight, bend over to pick up materials, out of breath so easily just for climbing up four floors. am i too hard on myself? just can't stand the softness, the weakness that i see in myself, overly critical and judging when it comes to my own capabilities. like i am my own nanay telling me what's wrong and good with the world. pushing me harder and longer to get through to get back like a big pitbull breathing down my bag watching me with eyes that doesn't belong to me but to some otherwordly creature that is telling me i need to be better and stronger, everyday all the time. not to let up in my work and all i want to do is break down and break apart, like those tiny legos in a bin, no structure, a mess, not to be put together. then again there's so much to do and too many people to take care of, too many things left unattained. spew out all this garbage blocking my head and my muscles and my bones. i know it's about that time where i need all the rest i can muster, the last leg of the race to welcome a new life in me. but the last leg of the rest is when you push your hardest and bring out whatever is left in you, push it all out as if you will never have the chance to take another breath and each step counts for everything. my real estate agent told us that when he was training to be national swimming champ of turkey, one thing that kept him pushing forward was the thought he placed in his head that if he didn't win then his parents will be killed. it worked. he was the national swimming champion of turkey. looking at him he is sleek and sure of himself, every corner defined, every angle placed properly, energy about to pounce, no letting up, moving forward and up. i always smile when i see him, you can't help but absorb the energy his kind brings. the ambitious, well strung bow. exhausting to sustain. when i lay down with my daughter and i watch her face swell with sleep all i want to do is look at her face and wait for the seconds to pass us by. like those cotton candy machines that whirl and spin gossamer sugar crystals shape itself into these clouds, i can watch those forever. i remember laying on the ground and looking up at the sky and just watching clouds. pointing at different shapes identifying what each could be. the weather so hot that all we have the strength to do is lift an arm slightly, long enough so that our friend can see what we are pointing at and let our eyes go heavy with sleep, the breeze blow through our hair and hear the distant roar of traffic and food vendors just beyond the concrete blocks separating our world from the busy traffic of edsa. had a chance to lay on the sand and look at clouds with my daughter, but briefly and barely. it seems that there's so many more gadgets to distract us, the iphone, the mini dv player, the bucket and shovel, the water and the surf, the wet sand, daddy chasing scenes, mommy caressing, so many more things to do and get busy with. time is so much more faster for her than it was ever was for me. her memories consisting of sponge bobs and doras, characters she thinks are her friends, big screen projectors that plasters her face with colors and words, sounds of different music and modern beeps, clicks and tings, sounds that was never part of my psyche until recently. like a giant helmet placed in her subconcsious her modern day metropolis in one easy reach.