Mountain Appear, Woman Disappear

There is probably no better time to be in a place, any place, than to drop by when there's a tragedy. I'm in the banaue hotel now, and half of the staff is watching the tv. To watch the 6 o clock news (that's no longer at exactly 6) report on the disappearance, appearance, life, death, body (living), body (dead) of Julia Campbell. To watch themselves, really. Because for once, and rarely, are the rice-fields (terraces pala), they call home, they see outside their windows, finally finally seen on tv too. It's funny how we pretend we're interested in the world, when we're really just interested in ourselves. (Or a sensitivity to what and who are NOT us which is really just masking (to no one's fault I believe)of a sensitivity to ourselves).

My sentences are longer than they should be, and more complicated. One on top of the other. Very terrace-like (bwewhewhe). Connected by water pipes. When slopes, become steps. And I remember just a day ago, the many many steps i had to climb down, up, crawl over, with and without shoes. Basta. Ibang level ang flexibility. At ibang level din ang hanga ko sa dad ko. (68 doing 69 he says), cane in hand, lungs wheezing, still climbing down, up, crawling over. I wasn't sure I wanted to give him a standing ovation for being the bravest guy his age, or really the most gahi'g ulo. Maybe both? Ibang level ang ypil pag matigas ang ulo. Martyr pala (whether it be about caves, or flowers, or girls, or boys). In the end, when we want to prove somethign to ourselves, we are willing to be put in danger proving it.

This is getting long. I'm really just waiting for this hour to end, really. Because I had agreed to pay for it, here in this business centre. WAiting for an email ticket form pal, that's obviously not been sent yet. Dear lord. Dear lord. Hahay. hahaha

Ayan tuloy, napasulat ako. Sa inyo. Bow