Saturday, May 19, 2007

walking atop short, gray walls...

in a perfect world, i would be in sixth grade, all sweaty, even smelly like my other playmates but unaware that i was having the grandest time.

this was the most beautiful period of my life where not a whiff of prejudice, social class or difference in sexuality was ever present. My playgroup was a team in the real essence of the word, united, without regards to color of skin or money inside our pockets or family background. We never really understood why we were able to bond together though. There were enough differences to assume we would never be a solid team. But during our free time we found ourselves playing tag, hide and seek, eating together and squealing at each other's miserable test scores. the immeasurable joy of running and climbing through monkeybars and the big slide, the tears over scraped knees and bruised shins, the thrill of the chase and the disregard for toning down the volume of our shouts was a sensation that no other experience can ever come close...

it was also a time of my life when i thought i was going to fall into the arms of my crush and live together with him for all time. i suffered the agony of blushing when he would sit beside me, the torture of friends screaming when he would come within short distance of the group, and the anguish of my grades falling miserably into unfathomable lows after long nights of thoughts of him..

it was also a time of my life surprisingly where I became a little distant from my family. the hours at school had made me looked forward to staying longer simply because of the irresistible temptation of long hours of playtime during class dismissals, which gave me lesser time at home. there was less interaction with siblings, and cousins, that pretty much i almost became a stranger at home. even when with family, i would feel shy when i would run into classmates in the mall or some public place because i would feel because i was not with friends it was a bit unusual...

in this page of the book of my life, you will see the petal of an unknown flower. its color has faded but the smell embraces the whole literary creation of my existence...


9 comments:

Anonymous said...

Beautiful, simply beautiful.
Come on, you know you can do it! Write a book! Cheers, razrman aka dickrick

Unknown said...

I agree Liisa that your writing is excellent. If you had some spare time up your sleave I would encourage you to write up a few pieces and send them to some magazines. Just short bits. You have a talent.

I take it that English isn't your first language; if that's the case then it's all the more impressive.

Ciarlatano said...

You have a beautiful mind, and a beautiful heart. Thank you for all of the wonderful things you have made me feel.

Unknown said...

Wow. That was so poignant it brought tears to my eyes...

Gothic said...

How many of us can actually remember our feelings of being in 6th grade, let alone distill the essential emotions so beautifully? ... thank you Liisa.

faustwriter said...

"the petal of an unknown flower. its color has faded but the smell embraces the whole literary creation of my existence...". that unknown flower has blossomed in the brightest colors imaginable that are so bright and vivid even we, who were not there, can see them over the years. their color is bright, bitter and stained - the color of real life, the color of stains i know too well. maybe it seems to you that the flower has faded, but for me, it has just become a real flower for the first time.

Anonymous said...

Great post dear Lisa..
Keep up the good writing

Take care
Bumblebee

blue77 said...

Your thoughts and writings are beautiful Liisa.
Thank you.
Peace to you and yours,
Leo

Anonymous said...

Hey - have just been exchanging texts with you. This is such a lovely sentiment. I have always admired the women of the Philippines...they so effortlessly combine beauty and graciousness with strength. Keep doing what you love. Cheers, Chris