CURSE

Holding my little girl’s hand as she sleeps so restlessly, I think about the world she’s going to live in… What have we left for our children? We have been so unscrupulous & so selfish that nature is getting back. Will there be a better place for them when they grow older?

My baby girl, she sleeps like a boy. Always tossing & turning. Is she having dreams where in she chases butterflies under a rainbow? Or is she feeling me, so apprehensive about her future?

Sleep peacefully now, my child. I promise to not let go of your hands until I feel that you are ready to face the world on your own… kahit 15 ka pa lang.

* * * * * * *

I don’t know what’s wrong but lately I’m going through that cycle again. I thought I’m good already. Having blessed with a wonderful family, a brave little girl & a loving boyfriend… I have work, I’m healthy, I have a house & a car… But there’s always always something that’s poking at me. Like an itch that needs to be scratched, a thirst that needs to be quenched, a dance that needs to be executed… A voice that needs to be shouted.

I would always think that I’m excused to feel this coz I create. And there’s always a very thin line between creating & holding on to your sanity. And self-destruction is sometimes a means to a redeeming end. But I read somewhere that artists have work ethics too. And Picasso was the perfect model… Ok then, call me undisciplined. A lot of times I just wanted to bury myself in endless musings or freewriting, without the rules & the careful inclusion expletives.

Yes, I think that’s it. I long for my canvass & my journal. I have been too caught up with “living” & “getting it down on the floor” I’ve forgotten my other self. The part of me that wants to capture joys & sorrows, the spirited frenzies & celebrations, the mundane but deep observations of everyday life… I want them translated in words… or art.

I miss my wall.