October

While on his cigarette break from a regular drinking session with his male friends last night, he told me, he hated October. He didn't tell me why. I didn't bother to ask although I probed a bit that it might be because his birthday will be three days from now. He said he's not that big birthday guy or something. He just wanted to let it pass like an ordinary day. But, I bet he will still have more drinks than during his regular tipsy nights.

This guy is a poor thing. I didn't know he's a drunkard. He drinks alcohol almost every night. I can't stand such habit, or addiction, I suppose. But, in spite of that, the song Scientist by Cold Play is still playing in my head. Someday, the playing will stop once I will decide to finally bump my head on a wall or trunk.

Anyway, whatever his reasons for telling me that he hates October so much, I told him, try not to. And, having come across a poem of Robert Frost, I dedicate this to him. I wish he would write something about why he does hate this month.


October

by Robert Frost

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes' sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost--
For the grapes' sake along the wall.

Apples

When I said "things happen for a reason", I meant that there is really no such thing as coincidence. I'd rather believe that there is something or someone stronger and more powerful than we could imagine like a force or the universe conspiring for a condition to set before our eyes.

It was last Saturday night, or was it Sunday dawn when I encountered someone from high school. In spite of intoxication, we were able to manage a serious conversation like a brief time travel to our common past, our high school life. He was my batch mate who used to copy my notes and even answers during quizzes. He admitted that he couldn't forget about it.

I learned that he is already a policeman, trying to make ends meet after his live-in partner left him for London, with their son whom his mother is taking charge now. He said the girl hasn't spared anything not even for the kid. He barely can survive with P4,000 a month, a salary too small for an SPO1, but it's only what is left for him after all loan deductions. Yes, he had acquired loans when he was still living with the girl to capitalize a lending business only to end up bankrupt.

He was a pathetic man, I sympathized him. But, however depressingly he related his story to me, I can see hope in his eyes, in his voice. He asked me if I could still remember the bookmark I gave him during high school.

I recalled I used to make bookmarks painted with pictures using watercolor representing a saying or slogan I wrote on it. The one I gave him, he recalled, says "Don't put all your apples in one basket."

It's only that moment that I was able to recall who I was before. That I was this intelligent girl, with lots of friends, and sweet enough to give them bookmarks. And, I got these philosophies in life I shared to them written on those pretty little handcrafts.

He said, he followed what I wrote on the bookmark, to never put all his hopes in one pursuit. That's why he continues to struggle despite the trials and defeats.

Going back to the core of this, meeting him that night was not a coincidence after all. It was supposed to happen in time, that very moment. He became an instrument to remind me of who I was, and how I used to hold on to some philosophies that I should be using for myself these times.

He was a message. God knows what I've been going through. Each day is a chance for me to continue struggling or to give up the person I chose to love. Maybe, God is telling me to remind myself of the apples. Maybe, the message is that I will not spend all my present moments dedicating my thoughts to this one person, whom I don't know if he really cares for me; I don't know if he also thinks of me especially at times when we're not together, not even getting any message from him.

After that brief moment with my long lost batch mate, I figured how many apples I still have. And, I've been thinking to gather more baskets for them.

Writing workshop

At last, I am one of the fellows of the Davao Writers Workshop 2011 come October! It's been last year since I aimed to be part in a writing workshop since my last which was a long time ago, in 2001.

I'm hopeful to meet the other fellows and learn not only from their style of writing but from their own stories about life, love and relationships. It will be my chance to peek into their minds and see how we maybe different or similar in so many ways we could afford to open up during the entire period of workshop.

I only have this dilemma though. It's going to eat up almost my entire working week. I only wish my application for leave will be granted, or else, something has to give.

I realized today that there's so much one can do about his or her life. If only one would seek deep into his or her soul, one can bring out and inflame a desire until it burns into a passion that will eventually define one's personality. No one can stop anyone to express what he or she is supposed to be.

I'm biting a pen while fingers are crossed.