I thought I’d take the chance to catch up on my reading this summer since I haven’t really read anything last semester aside from the books that we discussed in class (The Plague, The Mother, Things Fall Apart, God of Small Things, etc.). So I was quite excited in coming back to California and being able to borrow from the immense and updated collection of the library there. [read on…]

Shhh…

May 28, 2009

Silence. Shhh.

My dad stood at my door yesterday. I was updating my list of books.

“What?” I asked.

“What?” he answered.

I got up from my bed and went to my bookshelf, ignoring him and waiting for him to say something.

Three times I asked. Three times he answered.

I went back to reading from my laptop screen. I put my earphones back in my ears but didn’t resume playing the music. I didn’t notice he was gone, until now.

He went without saying anything.

I’m leaving, soon.

And so is he.

Silence is the universal refuge… — Thoreau

Summer’s almost ending and I feel like I’m running a marathon and something’s chasing me. Two more weeks of May, and then it’ll be June. So. I’ve been thinking and looking around the house, trying to remember what I should bring back home. After all, it’ll be too long before I’ll be able to come back here—and by that time, we may not live in this house anymore. Maybe my dad will relocate because of work or whatever. Oh. We don’t own a house here because one, the American economy’s down and the mortgages are up; two, my dad thinks it’ll be hard to relocate (what with the selling of the house and the moving) when the time comes; and three, because we’re perfectly comfortable here in our rented home. I myself don’t want to buy a house here, because I don’t want to be tied down to this place. [read on…]

Fairytales

May 17, 2009

A memory passed my mind: I was sitting at the back of  car, bored and tired, and was holding a book, or thinking about the book. The book was a story book, The Little Mermaid. I remember it distinctly. It was an old copy, not worn, really, just yellowing around the edges. It’s a typical story book, the size of those small storybooks with only one story in them. Thin.

I remember how I got the book. I was in a house, and because I was left to amuse myself while the old people talked, I went and found a bookshelf, or a library, I can’t really remember. I read to pass time. I must have read a few books before I chanced to read The Little Mermaid. I have seen the Disney version, so I thought I knew it. I remember being fascinated with the story, because it was different. I am to find out years later that it was the less altered version of Hans Christian Andersen’s tale. [read on…]