Finally, her story

04 February 2008

(Eto yung sinusulat ko kanina, february 4 2008, sa library)

 

No, I don't claim to know her story, I would not even claim rights to tell it, I am merely a phantom observing every now and then parts of a her that I may never understand. I want to understand her but that is not a decision mine to make, she will make herself understood in her own time.

She is my friend, and by the limits of that friendship can I define this fragment of her. By those limits can I say 'we have a good friendship' or 'she is a good person'. By those very same limits I want to tell her story from my vantage point, even if its a damned bad vantage point.

How? How can I stress how much I want to tell the stories of why she cries. How I want to count the tears in her face and let them give me the story to tell. How I want to be one of those tears, so I can shout verses about why I am trickling down her cheek.

"Woe is me, a tear from an eye, born from her sadness to die in her cheek as her hand wipes my existence away"

I want to tell her story, like I did with the others, pretending to know so much of a fragment of their lives to tell a fiction. I want to do it right with yours, why do you cry, why do you not cry, why you smile, and why do these strands of happiness elude you.

She tells me, she lives in a existence of ears and tounges. How she lives by what they say, what she says, what they say about what she says, what they think about what she says, what she thinks they think about what she says, and what she thinks they think per se. Why? I do not know why, I don't even think I have to know why. But pray, please, heed and tell me why. For i want to know much more badly than would need to know anthing. I want to tell her story.

I cannot possibly know, other than from you, and you will tell me in your own time. When I am deemed trustworthy, when you think what I will think is irrelevant, when you think what others would think is irrelevant, when you are finally fee from your very own walls, then I can tell your story, perhaps I may even tell your story.

"I am teardrop, born from the torn and born to drop. I live and die somewhere between the eyes and the earth. I am from sadness that engulfs a spirit, I will tell you a story"