Why Neruda still kicks me in the gut after all these years

In a season of wet pants and skid-free shoes become an absolute necessity, one cannot help but look up and see why Zeus' tummy is grumbling. Know this for certain: I am neck-deep in rain, mud and muck, and I still love it.

In one of my bloghopping adventures, I happen to come across this particular individual's blog. I have always admired him for his words and his attitude, his lifestyle and his books, but not for his choice of women. I would always be there for him whenever the girlfriend would do something nasty, and I hang my head in utter shame everytime he would berate this person. (Kindly insert music befitting for unrequited love here)

Duwag kasi ako.

Now, he lives in that corner of the world, and I live here. Our lives could never be any more different.

It was then that I knew he broke up with the girlfriend, after their many squabbles and bickerings and pangangaliwa just to get back at each other.

Before I hear oohs and aahs from you guys, you know I am quite happily attached, so shut up.=)

I remember him telling me about Neruda in college, about this particular poem "Tonight I Can Write". I think he cried when he finished reading it.

Shred my heart to miniscule bopis strips, please.

The pain of breakups. Why do these things happen?



currently playing: The Cascades - Rhythm of the Rain