Saturday, June 23, 2012


5:10am, Manila

Right now, on the horizon, the first crimson splashes of early morning sunlight are peeking, making a delightful little contrast to the twinkly city lights of the lower buildings in the distance. The last star of the night will be covered by the early morning smog clouds soon enough... Not that many bodies are stirring on the streets, but I can hear the faint buzzing of the early morning commuters anyway on the main street (Taft)...

I've always loved the mornings... at one point or two, I've whimsically thought that each one brought on a new page to write on. "The promise of a new day," according to one Paula Abdul song, so to speak.

:-) One by one, the lights in the distant house buildings are getting extinguished, and the pale salmon reflection on the Pasig river of the crimson sky will be no more, and the all-night stores will be have swept away the dirt of their porches after the long quiet night will be ready for business.

I am here, standing on my balcony, resting my chin on the ledge, thankful for the new day.

A new day, and a chance to do something good, is always a promise kept.


While lying on my stomach at the callroom after a bout of food poisoning yesterday, I was reading the first few chapters Ayn Rand's "The Art of Fiction", a series of lectures that she did for a small group of friends. She wrote about how the subconscious...and everything you've ever been through was important for writing...and how good writers should always have these to draw on for inspiration...

I haven't had that much time for writing these days, really, but I do admit I've had a pretty full plate these days... my "investments" into my subconscious have been in the forms of new sights, new feelings, new experiences, new patients that I have seen and helped in my own way...the belief in the promise of new beginnings.

Will write more about them later, of course, but for now, this should suffice...

I am happy. 




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