Sayo Ko Lang Sasabihin 'To (2/n)

In the zenith of my childhood days, did not know about the concept of fear yet, I knew no better than that life was bliss. I could use most of my time in playing. I could do pranks: make others cry and cry freely without being shameful. Luckily, I had friends who were courageous enough (and also gullible) to comb through the rice fields just to gather leeches for me. At the end of the day, I would have one little cousin crying out for her mother’s help.

By night, you could find us lying on the rooftop. Facing the magnificently veiled universe, we would wait for the flickering lights. Ayan na yung eroprano!, my friends would shout. As we watched its lights take turn into red and white, we seemed to be hypnotized. The lights would penetrate into our systems. Our souls would be inspired and then we would be dreaming of becoming a pilot. Pag ako naging piloto, papaikutin ko yung eroprano, 365 degrees flip!!!... Ulol! Hanggang 360 degrees lang yun. Ako pag ako naging piloto,….

I can still feel the zest in each one’s feet as we rush down for dinner.

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Inspiration was easy to find. It was almost everywhere. It was in the cactus my mother grows; in the crimson sky during sunset; in grandma’s stories of war. Too inspired a kid, I had dreamed of becoming a samurai to save the world from black ninjas. (NO! I am not talking about Kenshin Himura-like samurai !!)  I have read that samurai are not just versed in swords and paper folding; they also have the deep appreciation for poetry. I have made several haikus but did not learn to improve my poor handwriting. Because a writer’s calligraphy is as important as his words, I had given up that dream before I end up in seppuku, before I take my own life out of disgrace. Now, I just smile at the thought of my frustrated dreams.

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One thing I realized is that dreams and courage are consorts.  I wanted to think that I got tired of being shy and not just intake too much alcohol when I uttered wrong lyrics and sang out-of-tune melodies for you. I hope the same thing goes when I have decided to write  these letters.

“If someone shares his dreams to you, it means he trusts you.”

I don’t plan to end the letters so soon. Honestly, I doubt if they are really ending because the sad truth is I still do not know why I write these letters.

For now, I’d just tell my story and keep my pen rolling.