~ °Café de Terrasse° ~

The thoughts of an odd duck who sits alone in a night cafe, with a stylo in his right, a journal in his left, a valise under his chaise, a tasse on the table, and plenty of time to pass.
~ Salut! Come and join me at Table #12 |Leaving so soon? Ecrivez-Moi! ~
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~ samedi, mai 03, 2003 ~

What a glorious morning! I slept with my window open and I could hear the raindrops trickling down my veranda. I woke up and the sky was cloudy but the sun was out. The clair de soleil reflected off the droplets in the air.. It was truly one of nature's presents to man. Thank you Mother, thank you.
I sit here in my study room listening to Delibes' Flower Duet and I feel as though I am going mad. I feel so lonely. I so desired for my home to be filled with the dancing notes of Debussy, of Vivaldi, of Bach, but my grandmother has chosen instead to remain in the piercing peace of crinkling chronicles and flagrant flatulations. I cannot ever, in my sane mind, in my place on this world, I cannot force myself to listen to music without somebody else to hear it with me. I cannot enjoy music without somebody with me to enjoy it with. It is like I am the only one hearing the sounds, the notes, the harmony, the life being awakened in my mind and yet I am alone. I cannot march through Turkey as a single soldier, dance in Arabia without my band, nor stand under a dome of white jasmine without amour. I need the power of numbers in prayer for the desire to be a joyous man lies clear from the mood of the morning to the claire de lune.

~Benjamin 5/03/2003 11:09:00 AM
~ vendredi, mai 02, 2003 ~
There's nothing like a good game of flirtation...lol. The girls that I meet at Costco are... well they're... interesting. haha, what a word to use. But it's true. They're like the girls you meet on airplanes. ;) lol

~Benjamin 5/02/2003 08:59:00 PM
~ jeudi, mai 01, 2003 ~
Hurrah for lost causes. So the girl I like is gonna become the girl I used to like because I can't like her. Sheesh... So when I do go off to college, things'll all be the same as before. Love's like a poppy seed muffin. I'm failing the test even when it aint the real thing.

~Benjamin 5/01/2003 03:28:00 PM
~ mercredi, avril 30, 2003 ~
My grandparents are very difficult to deal with, but they are teaching me many lessons about life that I could never learn without difficulty. My grandmother is one of the most anxious, nervous, worrisome, pessemists I know. Every day, she tells me that she is getting weaker and weaker. Everyday, she tells me that she wants to leave this world. Everyday she asks me to sit with her and pray for God to take her away. It's sad but when it's everyday, it seems to lose meaning. Honestly so, and I do feel guilty about it but I can't even shed a tear. She doesn't shed any tears. In fact, my grandmother doesn't cry because she looks forward to her time. The truth is that she is a sickly woman, only she's sick in her mind. She refuses to get well. She wants to leave the world so she doesn't try to get better. But she loves the family, and she loves the company of loving relatives. She reminds me always that 'there is nothing more special than the special people in life.'
My grandfather is a different story. He is losing his memory but he still maintains this fascination with the the world around him. He takes walks for hours outside and stares at the sky for long times. When he is inside the house, he can't help but play with my younger sister's little hampsters of which he has never seen before. He thinks they are white mice, which don't exist in the Philippines. He spends hours at a time watching the trees and playing with the wind.
While my dear grandmother is laying in bed praying, my granfather is out communing. When my grandmother humbly asks for company to sit with her while she naps, my grandfather walks off alone, preferring to be so. Very different they are. My grandmother teaches me patience, the love of others, and the essence of time. My grandfather teaches me understanding, self company, and the essence of beauty. I can never learn them from anyone else.

~Benjamin 4/30/2003 08:38:00 PM
~ mardi, avril 29, 2003 ~
...

~Benjamin 4/29/2003 08:37:00 PM
Everything affects the world indirectly or directly. Do you ever think about what goes through your body? Like air- you inhale it, convert it into something else, then exhale it. It never disappears, it's just breathed over and over by other creatures. Maybe that particle of air which passed through you had passed through the lungs of a close family member, a lover, an enemy, or a complete stranger. Maybe it came straight from your orchid plant. Maybe it was once infected with SARS or carbon monoxide. Maybe it came from the gills of a salmon, or the gas of a tamarind tree. Breathe in. Where did that air particle come from?

~Benjamin 4/29/2003 05:16:00 PM
~ lundi, avril 28, 2003 ~
My grandparents are now living in my house. My grandfather speaks almost no English at all. My grandmother speaks the old-fashioned English as taught to her by American soldiers when she was a young girl. It's interesting the way she refers to my friends as my "schoolchums" and "lads". She says, "consume your viande". "Did you eat lunch in the canteen?" When she wants to bring something up, it's always, "by-the-by". She refers to the bathroom as the "comfort room", which is still widely used in the Philippines but... yeah. It's just interesting to hear it here.

~Benjamin 4/28/2003 06:13:00 PM

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En memoire de Floy Catabas (1932-2002)