the eventful month is not the topic of this entry.
during the past days or weeks, i have seriously contemplated of stopping to write. there was a sense of being tired to put into words what i have seen, what i have heard, and what i have felt. the subjects are never lacking, as there is a whole gamut of stuff to write about. a wide array of angles to stories to tell. but somehow, my fingers can do no typing. my mind cannot come together to bring out much less a phrase of the hues that colored my world.
the sunsets of cotabato were as colorful as always.
the heat in the afternoons are still unbearable.
young people and women were as energetice, and as hopeful, and still raring to be recognized in peace building.
manila is still, well, is still manila.
and davao is still my home.
its the lens that views the action have started to be blurred. the storyteller has lost his touch to weave tales of places in mindanao and in his heart. the bard has brandished a sword instead, to stop telling stories and went to war.
i even went to the extent of planning to end my writing career today.
by the time i sat in front of the likom monitor in a slow internet connection in a cafe right in front of our neighborhood. i missed telling stories. i missed reading my exploits. i missed the comments of the people who do care to visit. i missed writing.
and it might be a waste to end something so beautiful just because the writer has decided to be selfish. the travels and travails of a day in the life is not meant to be silenced today. the love affair of my fingers with the key board would continue to click away everytime i get behind a colored screen. laziness (or a whole lot of stuff to do, whichever way i see it) might keep me away from writing, but it would never keep me away from a love that i recently discovered.
sometimes you think of sleeping forever. then again someone wakes you up and shows a world that you have never visted before. that makes the getting up worth the waking.