lonely planets, ivory moons

On our last night in Baguio, the moon was a waxing white ivory.
Lord of the eternal black sky.

E ano pa nga ba ang nasa isip ko ngayon? Isang hakbang na lang ng bilog na buwan, Disyembre na. Di ko naman masabing depressed ako (I'll leave that word to Beatlebum).

Wistful lang. A little lonely, maybe. But definitely not depressed.

I'm glad I know what I want. So far, at least. How many people my age have griped about being lost in this maze of endless possibilities? I should thank God that I know what to dream for. I should be grateful for the fire that's carrying me through each and every adventure.

Thank you, Lord.

Despite everything, one thought insists itself upon my consciousness: when I die, I would want to be remembered as a good person, above everything else. Fifty, forty, thirty years from now.

I still miss my gay lola. But each day that passes, pawala nang pawala. Without effort from me at all. I guess that's just the natural trajectory of things.

I hate admitting this to myself. My "crush" history shows a pattern of me tending to fall for gay men. Last night Beatlebum dropped two little cherry bombshells on me: "Pink, M-- and G-- (both of whom my former crushes) are gay. What's wrong with you?" That made me laugh. T