teenage infatuation
teenage infauation catches me as i least expect it. what frustrates me is not the naive inexplcable space that separates our bodies but the inability to communicate . i cannot speak this language and no matter what sign language can explain, at this age i would really rather not and get straight to the point. i wish to speak more and share more, laugh at things understandable only through the rhythm and meaningless of words. but to no avail. here i pour out out of the frustration seeking lonesome, unaffected heart. i only wish to feel in this city of a million senses. what`s lost is the feeling. riding the metro and watching the people, i wonder how they make out of their life for i know what i am feeling is not unique as i would always wish it were. i may be amazed at how much they make a life out of the limitation of the last train or the atrociously expensive taxi ride, you wish you were not drunk, alcohol quickly fades away feeling. we have too much freedom in manila, believe it or not tokyo will bore our punk attitude to life. i miss QC and the cheap taxi rides , the friends who will drive you home or tricycle drivers who will ply any route you wish to take at the ungodly hour of 3am. in tokyo at 3am you only have three options: 1, miss the train and wait for the train in the morning, alone. 2, miss the train, talking and drinking with someone, maybe spending the night together somewhere or 3, dont miss the train, go home sober or drunk alone in your hotel room watching incomprehensible TV or retreating to a book you think will make your life less lonely than you think it is. i think of joaquin and this very first night i sleep with him wrapped in my arms. so what now of my teenage infatuation, i move to and fro…
