The Road to Your Sunlight

Have you noticed the beauty of the sunset?
Every heart in its eyes seems to be the saddest.
So please paint my world like a summer day,
Let the kid in me go out and play, stay,
I say... 

I will find some light and not see you set,
Illuminate my view, discard the silhouette.
There'll be no cliché of teardrops falling,
No more dreams and whims to keep me sleeping
'Cause... 

I'm gonna follow the road to the sunlight,
Until the moon shines down on me.
I'm gonna run just to see you shining,
And turn this darkness into spring. 

I walked on the moon, in a trance you danced,
Our footprints flickered in the dust, I glanced.
Now there's just a lonely pair in the lunar crust,
You fell like a star and vanished in a rush,
I must... 

Leave the streets that house my agony,
This pledge I pen on a slab of an ivory,
Never to return to the past of obscurity,
Just drive my way back to the melody
And... 

I'm gonna follow the road to the sunlight,
Until the moon shines down on me.
I'm gonna run just to see you shining,
And turn this darkness into spring.

I'm gonna follow the road to the sunlight,
Until the moon shines down on me.
I'm gonna run just to see you shining,
And turn this darkness into spring.

On The Secret Life of Walter Mitty

Different layers of reality intertwined with pseudoreality. A film that tries to capture a life of a daydreaming negative assets manager, ostensibly an expert in photographic film, captivated by a woman, searching for Sean O'Connell, a photographer who wants to take meaningful, larger-than-life pictures.

Ironically, it was Sean who gave the quintessential idea that life is not captured in photographs. What Mitty saw in a video clip that he had to pause to take a look at the shot of Cheryl could be unreal. What the characters found in Instagram, Facebook, Google, eHarmony might be fabricated or reconstructed reality. Mitty's adventures in Greenland, Island, Central Asia, and the Himalayas may be a large-scale daydream. 

What, then, is real? Our memory in which we store the feeling of every moment that will somehow compose our dreams (or daydreams), construct our perception to the world, create our standards, our conditioning? Reality is the experience, that is captured, not by our senses, not by the object, but by that very moment. And that's how our lives become a part of the big secret of the world.

Walter Mitty: When are you going to take it?

Sean O'Connell: Sometimes I don't. If I like a moment, for me, personally, I don't like to have the distraction of the camera. I just want to stay in it.
Walter Mitty: Stay in it?
Sean O'Connell: Yeah. Right there. Right here.

PS: I was really thinking that Mitty's adventures were just a part of his zoning out until the eHarmony guy came into the picture and proved that everything was real. But then I realized that everything was not. I was just only watching a film.

isotelic idiotropy (06)

fire rushes to my blood
burning my veins, blowing my senses
into constellations

isotelic idiotropy (05)

twain spiders entwined–
nacreous limbs in the cold,
in longing and pang, they fit

isotelic idiotropy (04)

fences bow in arches,
bridging the eyes
to the dance of the stars

isotelic idiotropy (03)

the cold wind blows
fire on shivering
leaves of wishful thinking

isotelic idiotropy (02)

lines bend to meet --
a curve, a cross
and the possibility of the infinite

isotelic idiotropy (01)

ang buhay ay isang walang hanggang kuwit,
at elipse...
ang ating mga panaginip.

---

life is a perpetual comma,

and ellipsis...

are our dreams.

woodstock decides to die

You never heard me speak, barely saw me fly,
I walked along with Snoopy; thus, you never saw me cry.
my logic is erratic, I could wind up telling you a lie,
I am such a miserable bird so today I decide to die.

One day I played hockey on my birdbath during the cold winter,
I felt very sad that I longed for a mom's hug, so warm and tender.
Snoopy was so kind that he joined me in search of my mother,
but our feet led us to a carnival where the crowd made me feel warmer.

When Snoopy was the head beagle, I became his secretary,
when he played golf, I became his pathetic little caddie.
When we played football, he hit my head and called me a sissy,
then he began to read and stopped playing with me and my frail body.

I've never been famous like Tweety and the big bird from Sesame Street,
so what's left of me is my snout that doesn't even look like a beak.
How I wish before I die I could have at least two front teeth,
which I would exchange for my idle wings and these fragile feet.

So this serves as my last will and testament before I kill myself,
I turnover my nest and birdbath to my secret friend who is an elf.
I won't think of speaking with charlie because for me, he is deaf,
hoping that my best bud is happy with his stupid books in a shelf.

Farewell to you, my friend Snoopy and to your practical jokes,
you'll never see my neck again which you used to shake till I choked.
To the flying birds I envy, mostly to Superman with an inviolable cloak,
today I'll fly with you without a beak-bleed, but with a bottle of coke.

deatchscape

come,
join the dance
to the beat
of the pouring rain,
and admire the moon
as the sun departs.

don't think
you're hallucinating
with the view
you're about
to see.

because between
sleep and awakening,
i bring to you
something
beyond heaven
could ever yield.

forget about
loving,
abandon breathing,
give up
on dreaming
come
and take a rest.

a lullaby
will be sang
for the weary lark
so that in its ascent
bliss
will come
to nest.

seeds of hope,
wasted yesterday
will be sowed
in the dry lands
of the heart and soul.

despite this night,
a new morning light
will begin to ignite,
for in darkness,
fireflies
can also be seen. 

xdelax-circa2008