Wednesday, March 09, 2005
It has been raining for the past two days now. This is, for the most part, quite unusual for Dumaguete, which has always been given to a stormless existence, to sunny days, a city untouched by ravages of rain. We've all become strangers to the sudden cold days and the splatter of rain against the walls and the windows. I love the fact that everyday now I have to go out with a jacket and a warm shirt, and always with an umbrella -- which is a ritual so much like the things we do for fall. Joanna, yesterday, said the weather reminded her of an English day, and she is rightLife is a rainy day.
On some given instances -- when the rain stops, for example, and there is only the ample cool and wondrously grey couds to hide the sun, the air kisses the skin, and calls for warmer clothes, and makes the grass greener than usual -- I adore it
. This is my type of day. I have no uses for sun. For a moment, I forget this is tropical country.
Then the rain intrudes again. I have just managed to escape the bed and its prolonged invitations for sleep. I grope for my red pen: there are so many papers to check for tomorrow's school day.
Yesterday, Mark followed me around like this sweet puppy. Which I like. How fast we get used to sleeping touching somebody else's skin! This weather gets him down, however, and I can't help not smiling for a while. I want to be Clown for him, and he pretends to smile JUST to make me smile, which is sweet -- but... Then again it was also the sadness in his eyes I fell in love with. I love people with sad eyes. They look at you with such yearning...
 This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
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