to-fa-thom-the-pho-ton

Physics is an attempt to explain the universe. All fields of study do. We subconsciously want to understand the workings of life, society, the universe,

Fragments are all we have.
We can never have a full understanding of anything

I let the sky turn purple or dark gray. And then the gray matter or clear matter fall upon the ground as drops of rain… What is rain? When was the rain invented? Let me recount that memory… Weave a fabrication. Fabricate a memory. Narrate a fiction.

The kiss of pen and paper is a magical moment.
The whole paper is a big fat lip,
and the end of a pen, atomic lip.
Continuous atomic smacking.

Black against white, or white against black. The difference of color is but a change in wave frequency, in packets of photons expended.

WILL I EVER RUN OUT OF THOUGHTS?

thoughts while inside a moving non-runway jeep

Again, repelling the stares with a small ugly handwriting, inside a moving non-runway jeep. Orbe coined the term runaway. A while ago, two kid barkers were rhythmically shouting, “Ahhh Dian Zobel, aaaaahh Dian Zobel” Funny, cause nabulol yung isang bata.

I’ve never seen a person write while bored. Write, not read, while bored. If I spot a man doing it, I will ask his hand for marriage. I will approach him, be brave, risk… And ask if he writes when bored. Writes when bored.

thoughts while in-transit

I ask myself the same questions. Always the same questions that ponder life and God and the universe and time. I never get to induce, conclude. Nanganganak lang ng masmadaming tanong ang aking mga tanong. (rephrase) Ang aking mga tanong ay nanganganak ng masmadaming tanong, walang sagot.

Az loves using the word twina.

I ask myself the same questions because the last time I asked them, I wasn’t able to give answers. But I’d like to take them all in slow so slow. No rushing to Nirvana. Exposure to more experiences, broadening my perspectives will take me there.

Lights dance. They are alive. I think. What is life?

During conception, not only is a physical body formed, a soul is too. If we do not reincarnate, there must be frillions of souls abound then.

thoughts while at a jeep stop

My watch reads 7:04pm. I stand near the intersection of Dian and Buendia as I wait for the next jeepney. The city’s hustle and bustle stir my senses. I see traffic lights, buses speeding by; hear a honk, somewhere; get a whiff of urban smoke. I become hyper-sensual, that I cannot take them all down on paper. My mind is still soaked with physics, space, time, relativity… All thanks to Stephen Hawking and the great philosophers and physicists. I AM DRUNK WITH A BOOK.

Never in my life have I felt this relaxed. The intersection of Dian and Buendia is a seemingly uncomfortable place, but standing here beats curling up in bed on a rainy Sunday morning. I don’t know why. I could shed happy tears… now. Now. Now. As I re-realize the endless possibilities of life, and of the world.

I feel like the universe is truly my home.

***

Oh, those minutes were divine. I don’t know what struck me. I could only look back and wonder…