here first. until we are there.

the moon palace

after reading paul auster again, it is tempting to think of his books as his way of working around what he has been given in his life. he constantly talks about an absent father, and once finding him as he did in Moon Palace, he was a freak of a man ( am not sure how it will end, will finish the book soon.)

the same way that i will always know that people who know me will always recognize my longing for my mom.

i’ve been thinking of her a lot lately. wishing she was around to tell me what to do. was lost for a while, joined the ‘corporate world’ —- self-conscious tone intended — and was spat out of it … well, will be in the next three days. and i wanted her to tell me what to do. (i wanted a boyfriend too, to make me feel better about things and to think that my whining was actually cute or entertaining. hahahaha.)

and coinciding with with her death anniversary where relatives of hers crawl out of the woodwork to proclaim that they were visited by mom in the oddest places. though i like her friend saying that she was caught in a small rainshower that was my mom —- i have not seen her or heard from her. my dreams of her are always mere ideas of her.

last night’s dream notwithstanding. it was a vacation, a very simple one, we were all together in what looked to be old cottages in baguio. but when we left i realized what it was, it was a chance to be with her.

and the her who i believed to be my mother, just stopped being marlene. like we bought some time to be with her. and it’s never enough. i remember how i woke up with that choke, that choke that tells you that you’re about to bawl, to gnash your teeth, to mourn.

i was with her, and she had to go away. our time was over. and maybe i will always be looking for her. like she’s just there in the next mile and i will get a glimpse of her. in the mirror, in a sudden turn of my voice. but she will always be beyond me. and i think i will always feel like i woke up from a nightmare and i’m running to her room but the hallway just keeps going and going and going and going.

but after the ugly cry, it’s imperative that i notice that there are certain turns of event that can only happen because God is being bothered by my mom. on the same day that it was final that i would not be hired (after a month of doing work!), i got a second chance i was too chickenshit to try for again.

sure, people will say coincidence and all that. i think i see why paul auster began this blog entry. his world is strange, but in its chaos is a pantheon of order, all with a sense of humor.

to not be cryptic, i’m teaching english first sem at the college. maybe i am bound to be in katipunan.

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4 responses

  1. des

    congrats, anina! so happy for you, dear. teaching is what you want, right? hope it will work out this time. i miss you!:-)

    June 2, 2006 at 2:16 am

  2. the city reader

    hey, congrats! so you’ll be ma’am abola again. hehe. sayang, sana you were there na when i was still teaching. and paul auster rocks. i still have your country of last things, which i love with all my heart. 🙂

    June 3, 2006 at 7:09 am

  3. Anonymous

    when our play is always in the pattern of our loss, i hope it’s the same way around too. 🙂

    June 6, 2006 at 4:51 pm

  4. dude. hindi ko gustong balewalain ang emotions mo, (at sana hindi naman,) pero walang nagbabanggit, kaya babanggitin ko: ang ganda, ganda, <>ganda<> nitong sinulat mo.may utang kang beer, nga pala.

    June 10, 2006 at 8:31 pm

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