gentler's yoga report

an update to the last entry the sweat, oh the sweat :

if ever you were wondering dear gentle reader if gentle was able to finish one full session of yoga last night as has been intimated by master gentle himself, i'm here to report in all honesty that he did not. but not to worry, because the master himself is not worried. in fact he told me in all honesty that he kind of expected it, since he has quite bulked up.. but he was quick to dispel any and all speculations on the contrary that the bulking up meant becoming a large barrel of margarine--in fact, he quite honestly appraised his physique as the yummiest incarnation of gentle in recent years.

now, for the details :

the master was able to finish only about half of the poses before deciding to sleep for the night. he noticed that the execution of the poses were still the same; that he did not loose any of the flexibility he has prided himself over the years of practice. but one thing he noticed as he was executing his favorite royal pigeon pose--halfway through the set of poses for the full pose, he looked back over his shoulders and noticed that his legs were a lot more muscular than what he remembers them to be. hence, the "bulk" referred to in the earlier statement. he stopped right about in the middle of his routine, after executing upward bow pose with aplomb. his message, before heading to gym this afternoon was:

i'm gonna try to execute the remaining poses in my routine, tonight.

it is his wish that this message be conveyed to the gentle followers all over the world.

truly yours,
gentler
(gentle's butler)

the sweat, oh the sweat.

i miss the stretch. The sweat freely flowing out of my pores, drenching my skin; flooding me with an inexplicable euphoria. I miss feeling the arch of my back, in upward facing dog; my breath resounding in my ears as I go into a deep fold. I miss the four corners of my mat.

After nearly two months of going to the gym, feeling my muscles bulk-up, I’m gonna be having a session tonight. I’m excited, yet I feel like I’m a newbie all over again. I’m hoping and praying I’d be able to finish a session and not just collapse with tiredness on the floor after a few poses.

Oh well. We’ll see what happens. As they say, once a yogi, always a yogi. Or did I just made that up? Or, as Anne Rice said, “let the body instruct the mind”; or did I made that up, as well? Hehehe.

lazy afternoon scribblings continued

The faint glimmer of the early evening stars just come out to play by the horizon, threw specks of dull starlight at Theo; instantly fading on skin contact, as the entire place, now reflecting the muted colors of a twilight sky, slowly succumbs to the enveloping dark.

He has been absent-mindedly sitting on the sands by the beach for what seemed an eternity, watching the billow of soft waves curl gently at his feet, soaking them and the underside of his trousers wet. The shrieking gulls that have glided over the immense blue of the sea that afternoon as he was walking along the rugged shoreline, have now fallen silent and gathered themselves like some priests in congregation, huddled at the rocks some short distance away from the shack—now barely a shadow against the swirling blue and black evening sky.

As his mind continued to swim with the somber images of the gathering dusk, Theo slowly made his way up the steep terrain leading to the shack; little by little it emerged from the shadows, luminous in his vision, for the moon had already risen from the sea like some magnificent dream, bathing the landscape in sparkling silver.

He had just arrived that afternoon by small boat from the main island with a couple of other tourists, who, like himself, have chosen an obscure hideaway as their adventurer’s paradise to pass the weekend by.

The island’s share of tourists these days are trifling, dwindling figures compared to the past seasons; leaving some of the shop owners and inn-keepers with no choice but to temporarily close shop amidst the heat, and the dust, and the flies whirring incessantly over rotten mangoes and carabao dungs lying in the dirt. Children—who use to approach tourists drinking in makeshift bars during the peak seasons to sell them necklaces strung from shells and pebbles—are regular children once more, marching in packs towards their respective houses and shouting inaudible, exhausted goodbyes to their comrades after a day's worth of climbing trees and soaking in the surf. He trailed this ragtag band’s ascent, sluggishly walking a few steps behind, until he reached his own address : this rundown, wind-battered shack, just a few meters above the sea smacking at the cliffs.

With a lingering glance and a wry smile at the little gang slowly breaking up for the night, he proceeded to close the door, shutting himself in darkness as palpable as his sorrow.

happy birthday nanay!

love you very much. thank you for being the caring mom i've known all my life. :)

lunch-less, sleepless | an afternoon nightmare

Today has yet again been one emotional thriller ride (its always like this when i’m dealing with the ugly sick pig story arc of my life--what else is new?) and it definitely left me emotionally drained at the end of the day; well, that, plus the sad fact that i missed my lunch and my afternoon siesta, dealing with it—which is probably partly why i’m like this right now.. grumpy and unbearably out of sync with the world. in the end its still a mix up of emotions that left me here in the middle—unable to assess where i am, in this seemingly never-ending fight. On the one hand i’m happy that i was able to accomplish one crucial step to having a resolution to all this mess. I’m secretly commending myself for mustering the courage to take a firm stand in all this (well i’ve taken my stand before, but this one, this singular action i took this afternoon of seeing the powers that be and speaking to them, seemed to be the final straw that have sealed-in all that i’ve done so far, previous to this action); but on the other hand i’m also at a loss knowing that i’m still in the middle of this long tedious process, and that taking this step has eventually sealed in my fate too, to be in this predicament for an extended period, in transit it seems, until all these knots would have been eventually untangled. Help me, God. i feel so small and helpless right now, ready to cry and fall apart..

lazy afternoon scribblings

i don't know what to make of this. it seems like a good introduction to a novel or some work along that magnitude; but i've never really written one so this might be my debut if ever. hehehe. i know there's great research and preparation involved into writing such things so i'm just posting this to inspire me to go on. if no inspiration comes, its ok too. just consider it an exercise in character study. if something develops from hereon, i'd welcome it graciously. here goes some late afternoon scribbling. more to come, if inspiration further strikes.

the faint glimmer of the early evening stars just come out to play by the horizon, threw specks of dull starlight at theo, instantly fading on contact, as the entire place, now in muted colors of purple and gold, slowly succumbs to the enveloping dusk. He has been absent-mindedly sitting on the sands by the beach for what seemed an eternity, watching the waves crash gently by his feet, soaking them and the underside of his trousers wet. The shrieking gulls that have taken most of his attention as he was walking along the rugged shoreline that afternoon have now fallen silent and have gathered themselves like some priests in congregation at the rocks some short distance away from the shack. Their shack.

just like frogs in the june rains

Just when you thought the thing has already died down, then you hear talk of it again; and you go “oh puhlease, will you cut it out already? All of you!”

It was the subject of an overheard conversation between two women, while i was out for a bite, one early evening, at earl’s sandwiches, nearly a month ago—makati office girls, i presume. Demure on the outside, full of kink on the inside. It was the subject of hushed conversations at the office too, when the thing just came out, between officemates one would not think of as people who would dare talk about such things, even in hushed tones. I just kept all observations to myself, not wanting to fan the flames of prejudice that’s been spreading and engulfing the country like wild fire. Yet again, late this afternoon, an officemate said “pinakagrabe daw itong lalabas ngayon.. mas mahaba at mas maliwanag”; the tabloids too, upon scanning a handful from my post at the monitoring desk late this afternoon, apparently seem like frogs enjoying the first drench of June rains.. except, its not June, anymore. Sigh. Ever heard of the word, enough?