My Writing and Reading Life

I have always failed in keeping my promise to read at least one book every week. Almost every morning I would tell myself I should start getting serious with my reading. I still have so many classic books to read and to fully appreciate. And there's this blog which I want to keep alive with daily entries.

My reading life is not at all a life. My writing life is non-existent. If what I do here is called writing, at all.

The Agony and the Ecstacy

Let me begin with the agony. Well, after the wedding banquet emceeing I did last Saturday night at the Elsalvador Beach Resort in Danao City, I and Francis had to travel back to Cebu City for about 40 minutes at the back of a multi-cab. There was no decent seat at all for us. Then we went up to WRocK at Golden Peak Hotel to get my stuff for my overnight stay with Francis at his place up in the hills...somewhere. The agony began after getting off the habalhabal at 9pm. In the dark we had to make our slow descent with a small flashlight and a cigarette lighter. I was not used to trekking downhill without much light. I kept calling out the name of Jesus for I was afraid of falling like a rolling stone. It was so dark and slippery that I had the boldness to tell Francis that I would never again return to his place. I felt cursed being in such a situation. The agony ended after we reached his old and dilapidated house occupied by his mama and papa, who terribly looked too old for their age. Both had lost most of their teeth. The agony, unfortunately, came back the next day Sunday. It was making our way up the hills. The same old trail we had going down.

The Ecstacy! Well, it was all about my sleeping in a small narrow bed with my F in the living room. The blood red curtains gave the drab room some erotic aura. They made me feel I was in a girlie bar. Yes! The ecstacy of swimming, but it was more like soaking, in the mountain river. Wow! And all those quick and secret kisses we gave each other in land and in water. I got white and yellow chrysanthemums from Francis' mama before I left their place Sunday afternoon.

Sa Bukid Walang Papel

Francis has told me that they don't have a decent toilet at their place in Malubog. This has been my constant worry. Imagine, me and my arse exposed to Good Earth as I take a fast crap. I say fast cuz I fear being seen shitting on some hillside. I really have to go quick and be done with it after letting a few bombs drop. My gosh! It feels so animal. Besides, I need a lot of water to clean my asshole. What makes this whole thing shitty is that the shitting place is meters away from his house. If it rains, he said, there is always an umbrella. I told him I cannot shit alone. He's got to be with me, even if he's some distance away from where I squat.
I'm scheduled to stay for one night and one day in his humble home with his flower farmer dad and tobacco-chewing momma this weekend.

Hurting

Francis' text to me last October 16, at 1:03pm--
Pubri mi. Dilimi dato. Sanay nako sa bukid. Mukaun ko bisag unsa except sa baka. Kung naami bisita taga syudad. Amua pud sya entertinun bisag pubri mi makapakaun man mi sa uban. B4 namu sila paariun amua amu sila pangutan un unsa iya ganahan. Khblo ka bisag pubri mi kamao bayami mauwaw. Khblo ka nasakitan kaayo ko sa imung txt. Walako mag expect ingun ato imung etxt nako. Tanan diay imung kaau nko duna diay bayad? Huot akung dughan karun. Sory pubrimanko. Tanx.

His other text which came 10 minutes later--
As in nasakitan kaau ko.. Ky pirmi bayako nimu paka un.. Mutoo ka og sa dili.. Nakahilak ko sa pagbasa sa imung txt nga imung ge mention akung kaun. Until nw murako gitam ukan sa kalibutan. Mhl taka kaau bill. Tanan nimung gihatag nko akung gitagaan og value. Ky mahal taka. Giampingan nko tanan sama sa pag amping nko sa atng relasyun nga dili mabulingan. Ky lagilove taka. Kaau. Nagbukot ko sa habol karun ky basin makit an ko mama nihilak ko.. Salamat ha!

Cranford and the Hoho

I bought this book by Elizabeth Gaskell last Ocotber 14 at Cagnaan Booksales in SM City Cebu. I was with Francis then. I have lost count of the number of books I actually own.....Probably more than 200 now.

Francis texted me a "Hoho" this morning. Thought it was a mocking type of laughter. Thought I did not deserve to get a "Hoho". This caused us both to have an emotional exchange through texting. The truth of the whole Hoho thing came too late. A Hoho is a dried fish. I made him cry huhuhu over that damned Hoho. Hehehehe