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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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Wednesday, January 12, 2011

entry arrow1:07 PM | In Good Quiet

There is this girl in this cafe. She's white, in her twenties. Her hair is the color of dark chestnut and it brushes past her shoulders, longish enough for it to considerably flow, like a well-brushed cascade. She wears espadrilles, and her short chiffon skirt is a faded pink. Her blouse is purple. And she sits there in her table at the center of the room with a quiet grace that looks familiar. I see her staring past the space in front of her, a slightly bemused look on her face telling me she is content where she is right now, in this present -- an afternoon in a quaint Spanish cafe -- her hint of a smile an affirmation of that inner quiet I envy. Once in a while, she writes down something on the pad she has with her. Is she writing a poem? A journal entry? Some short reflection about where she is in this little place somewhere in this tropical nook this side of the Pacific?

I used to be that figure in Iowa City, solitary, brimming with such assured centeredness. I miss that contentment, that firm grasp of being while sitting in my comfortable corner in Java House.

I miss those days terribly.

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