my heart flutters... (03042010)

repost from nini.


...

...away with them fire lanterns!

when all else fails, there's mansy. and our relentless belief that we're bound to nail the right things at the right time with the right people. we're hopeless idealists that way. it brings us places.

saturday was insane. a laid back i-didn't-get-to-do-anything kind of insane. i slept the entire day off. literally. i was practically half brain-dead from the fast drinking and lack of sleep from the previous night. i guess it's never really a good combination. in what world, right? i can't believe i missed out on shitloads of other things just 'cos my body sneaked up on me and made me lay flat like a log on the bed the entire day. i distinctly remember waking up faintly in random intervals during the day and seeing how perfect of a day it was. and how much good sun i was missing out on. but the bed beckoned. and so did my pleading sleep-lacking brain.

i woke up some time around five. saw a text from mansy. it went something like "fire lantern parade. intramuros. gates open 7.30pm tonight." despite my brain being fried from alcohol, i said yes. i mean, what could possibly dissuade me from a prospect of taking nice pictures?! so i nabbed a few more minutes of sleep. or an hour. i never really keep track. then i was off to market market. i didn't even know how i'll get to the place. we didn't plan. we never plan. it's much more definite that way. we work best with irony. we just knew it'll happen. and it did. as unplanned.

walked around high street while waiting. browsed through magazines hoping to come across a nice one on photography. but to no avail. i did end up reading up garage. which is a good source for where to buy nice clothes for guys by the way. moments later, mansy and the ever reliable tandem of manong and manang were there. first stop, manila pen. we had to drop off mansy's camera with her mom. when we found the mom, it took her a good five minutes to realize i'm ryan. the ryan. mansy's ryan! it's prolly the hair. and all the missing weight. she lit up realizing it was me after all. i took it as a compliment. then we were off. the ride was tiring. apart from the fact that we were shuffling our asses inside the back of a pick-up. we were both tired from something. we didn't even bother understanding what the other one was tired from. it was mutually understood. we did try laughing though. but it just felt forced. too tired.

half an hour later of awesome tiresomeness and we were there. intramuros happened.

rarity. mansy in a dress.

legs legs. i see them legs.

there was grass. people on the grass. i was secretly happy.

in intramuros, buffet meant paying 450 pesos for a plate of dry pasta, bland mushrooms, and chewy calamares. and no refills. when i found out about this, i heaped spoonfuls of parmesan cheese on my plate. take that illustrado!

carlos celdran with them condom girls. the dalagang pilipina has a new image of practicality and safety.

mansy's friends.

matteo guidicelli. with the rest of vicky bello's posse.

culture comes with a steep price. one that i realized i was willing to pay for. i'm willing to be buried for years more of poverty if only for things like this. there were spanish dance performances in front but i didn't get to appreciate it that much. i was still overwhelmed by the fact that i was there. it felt different. the whole thing felt bizarrely different. it's like one of those things you only get to see a few selected friends of yours do. like a secret hippie movement for freedom and artistry and everything in between. intramuros was different at night. manila was different at night. it was like having a secret affair with that person you vehemently hated. the warm yellow lights romanticizes the whole city. all of a sudden, i found myself falling in love with the place i cursed by day. it was an odd refreshing feeling.

moments later, the fall of the walled city was celebrated. carlos celdran said so. and you know you just had to believe it.

magical.

no words can ever explain how the night felt.

my heart fluttered. along with everyone else's.

for a moment, it felt like nothing else beyond the stone walls mattered. nothing else apart from the now. suddenly, everything was light. and warm. it was like the burden that took a whole year in the making was finally lifted. it felt like hope. there was hope. there is hope. the fire lantern said so. 

it was a fleeting twenty minutes or so. but it was one of the best twenty minutes of my life. i never thought burning a bunch of dried cork tied to japanese paper can evoke so much good vibes. the night was good. it was surprisingly good. but then we had to leave. i remembered i was tired. and mansy remembered she had other social responsibilities.

outside, a different kind of hope was feigned.

...

poverty is no longer so bad if only for things like this. like culture.