Influences (or Why I Write the Way I Do)

Natalie Goldberg (free-flowing writing)
Clarissa Pinkola Estes (wild woman writing)
Jane Hutchison (direct-to-the-point writing)
Ernest Hemingway (simple words writing)

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Last Night in Loris

the first thing i would do tomorrow, after sun salutations is to tuck up Yaman's pictures (one including me) and Shadowman's.  tuck them in the box for personal collections. i wonder what memories i would hold after 6 months, taking them up again and posting them on another wall, or another shelf. yes another one. because yes, i'm leaving loris and this ensuite i called my territory since november last year. i'm giving it up because for the next 6 months, i don't want to pay monthly rent equivalent to the upkeep of yaman, me and my mom for a month in naga (obscene!). second, because though this is my territory, i could never call loris my home. it is just a transit point to a place i hope would finally be home for me after 6 months until i finish the phd by 2010 (at the most). yes, so this is indeed my last night here. in this room big enough for a foursome with australian guys according to bic-bic; a retro room according to jom; my own sanctuary when every one else is unbearable. this is the room where tears were shed for an atenean from the past, unfolding as ShadowMan in the flesh. the walls and floors the lone witness to two long-lost lovers bridging 26 years with the maturity, patience and tolerance only 40 year-olds could muster. indeed, this is the room where the love of Lightworker and Shadowman materialized. but unlike guijo, i would not kiss its floors when i leave tomorrow. i will just clean it and leave it fresh for the next one coming in. as i am in transition, so i am leaving this place. i'm going to somewhere more permanent, my real home.

 My loves on the wall including the never-too-late addition, Yaman's Daddy, my Shadowman!

How retro could this house get? Room light comes from this spherical orb, the surface designed like marble icing.  Below's the carpet typical of old Aussie houses for its loud designs and offbeat colors.
 
 
Stephii gave me this one and I'll never forget. The only big that matters is one's heart.
 
 Vitti's most profound discovery at 39.

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