new priest at last Sunday's mass. might not be all that acquainted with chapel's sound system, which is so sensitive it can pick up an ant's hiccup. various lessons from various parables pounded into our eardrums. could actually feel the pew vibrating with the strength of the priest's bass voice. it was LOUD.
overheard this whispered conversation during the homily.
ninin : ang lakas ng boses ng pari.
poppy : oo nga e. hindi tuloy ako makatulog.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Friday, September 07, 2007
26 sugar high years
her first word was "okay."
and she said it to me when we were standing on the hairy rattan-woven welcome mat pretending we were astronauts on the way to outer space.
***********
she is the didi to my zsazsa, or the zsazsa to my didi -- depending on whose villain needs to be bitch-slapped.
she is the loony pill to my loony bin.
she is the ernie to my bert.
she is the nuts in my chocobanana shake.
she is the green, the red, and the white on my pizza.
she is the patis and kalamansi on my inihaw na tilapia.
she is the maggi savor to my plain white rice.
she is the durian to my suha.
she is the funny hats to my kadayawan.
she is the glass of lukewarm water to my cafe juanita buffet lunch.
she is the tongue-piercing to my bellybutton tattoo.
she is the pilates dvd to my home tv shopping.
she is the flower power sando to my yemen shirt.
she is the lost phone to my bayo sale.
she is the palaisdaan to my every mindoro vacation.
she is the sugar high to my sungit.
she is my missing piece.
she is my missing peace.
happy birthday, baby sister
and she said it to me when we were standing on the hairy rattan-woven welcome mat pretending we were astronauts on the way to outer space.
***********
she is the didi to my zsazsa, or the zsazsa to my didi -- depending on whose villain needs to be bitch-slapped.
she is the loony pill to my loony bin.
she is the ernie to my bert.
she is the nuts in my chocobanana shake.
she is the green, the red, and the white on my pizza.
she is the patis and kalamansi on my inihaw na tilapia.
she is the maggi savor to my plain white rice.
she is the durian to my suha.
she is the funny hats to my kadayawan.
she is the glass of lukewarm water to my cafe juanita buffet lunch.
she is the tongue-piercing to my bellybutton tattoo.
she is the pilates dvd to my home tv shopping.
she is the flower power sando to my yemen shirt.
she is the lost phone to my bayo sale.
she is the palaisdaan to my every mindoro vacation.
she is the sugar high to my sungit.
she is my missing piece.
she is my missing peace.
happy birthday, baby sister
Sunday, September 02, 2007
dashboard confessional
m : i thought i was going to end up marrying you.
M (without missing a beat) : me too.
M (without missing a beat) : me too.
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