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This is the blog of Ian Rosales Casocot. Filipino writer. Sometime academic. Former backpacker. Twink bait. Hamster lover.

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Tuesday, September 23, 2003

I know my life. I refuse to be cowered into believing I'm a bad person. In that one instance of accusation, all of me rose to such clarity -- and for the first time ever, I found myself fighting for the dignity I finally know I possess. I've always possessed it, but have always wavered in believing it. But not anymore.



It was such a shock. To have all that come from somebody whom I thought loved me, to whom I bared my life --- warts and all, every little secret out. One cannot win an argument with somebody all too set in thinking of you the way one gossipmonger can paint your whole life. All my 28 years tainted in a second because of a purple tongue.



That I'm a whore.



That I'm a tattle-tale.



That I'm a monster.



That last one bit me like a snake.



(This is how it is to die, I finally know.)



My story will end somewhere else, far away from this small, sad place. It cannot contain me, not all its gossip and so-called friends.



I used to live for no other reason except to taunt myself into believing I can never really be happy without something, or someone. That was my tragedy as a creature of hope. But I know now that there is so much more to hope than being tragic.



This is the chronicle of one person's search for the good in life. To affirm that all is still well in a world which is so easy to believe as something depraved. (I refuse to believe in that kind of world. Life is too good.) And to dance, like the tango dancer, with love, betrayal, and finally, resolution.



That is how life should be.



And know that if you're reading this, I consider you a friend I can trust. Nobody else, except five people, know about this secret spot.

[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich




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