Rapunzel and my daughter

Yesterday, my daughter asked me to read to her the story of Rapunzel. In a nutshell, here's how it goes...

There was a man and his wife who wanted a child for many years. They lived next to a witch, who had a garden that was surrounded by a wall.
The wife wanted some lettuce so bad that her husband agreed to sneak into the witch’s garden and get some.
The witch caught the man and made a deal with him. He could take the lettuce but when they had a child the witch would get the baby.
When the couple had a baby the witch came and took the girl and called her Rapunzel. The witch put her into a high tower that did not have a door. It only had a small window at the top. The witch would come every morning and climb up Rapunzel’s hair to get into the tower.
One day a Prince came by and heard Rapunzel’s song. He watched the witch and learned how to get into the tower. Later he climbed into the tower on Rapunzel’s hair. They became friends and decided to get married.
The witch found out and cut off Rapunzel’s hair and took her to a desert. When the Prince came the witch was waiting for him. The Prince fell into a thorn bush and he became blinded by the thorns.
He wandered around for years until he found Rapunzel. Her tears fell into the Prince’s eyes and he was able to see again. They returned to his castle and were married.

THE END

What made this incident interesting, was her question afterward...
She then asked me...
"Mama, what happened to the witch?"

That's a good question.

a familiar feeling

It wasn't what lay at the end of her road that frightened Ammu as much as the nature of the road itself.
No milestone marked its progress.
No trees grew along it.
No dappled shaddows shaded it.
No mists rolled over it.
No birds circled it.
No twists, no turns or hairpin bends obscured even momentarily her clear view of the end.
This filled Ammu with an awful dread, because she was not the kind of woman who wanted her future told.
She dreaded it too much.
So if she were granted one small wish, perhaps it would only have been Not to Know.
Not to know what each day held in store for her.
Not to know where she might be, next month, next year.
Ten years on.
Not to know which way her road might turn and what lay beyond the bend.
And Ammu knew.
Or thought she knew, which was really just as bad (because if in a dream you've eaten fish, it means you've eaten fish).
And what Ammu knew (or thought she knew) of the vapid, vinegary fumes that rose from the cement vats of Paradise Pickles. Fumes that wrinkled youth and pickled futures.
Hooded in her own hair, Ammu leaned against herself in the bathroom mirror and tried to weep.
For herself.
For the God of Small Things.
For the sugar-dusted twin midwives of her dream.

-- Arundhati Roy "The God of Small Things," Chapter 11; pages 211-212

my mother

I met my mother just the other day. I was so happy to see her after about 2 months. She just lives in Cebu, but apparently Cebu has become too big for a mother and child to run into each other when they live apart.

My mother isn't perfect. In fact, there are a lot of things about her that annoy me:
1. She nags a lot
2. She's a workaholic who complains non-stop about the stressors of her job.
3. She's very image conscious, which is terribly irritating because for the most part she's more concerned about physical appearance than practically anything else.

But i do love her though, very much.

I've learned a lot from her too. Not from what she says, but more from how she has grown.

1. I've learned that at any age, people deserve happiness in any form.
2. I've learned that people change... even after 30 years of what seems like consistency, people change.
3. I've learned that, no matter what other people say or do, a person will define him/herself in the matter he/she desires, and it will show in one way or another - whether it be desirable or not.

where i am

i don't like where i am right now.
it is a place of ambiguity
it is a place i have succumbed to being

it is not where i want to be
there is somewhere else i would rather be
there is somthing else i would rather do

but life doesn't always grant us the luxury
of being where we want and wanting where we are

so i guess...
where i am
should be good enough

good enough
until i can no longer endure
good enough
while i am still able
but nevertheless
good enough

still...
things could be better
or
things could also get worse

maybe it all boils down to perspective
optimism... pessimism...
glass is half-full...
glass is half-empty...

is my life half-full?
or half-empty?

from where i am
i could not tell
but where i am
i guess
is good enough

for now

tired

these past few weeks, i have been so TIRED. it's like i have redefined the term from

tired ( tīrd ) adj. Exhausted of strength or energy; fatigued. Impatient; bored (care of answers.com)

to sleep-the-day-away, i-don't-want-to-do-anything tired. These days i catch myself staring blankly into space without a thought for minutes at a time. It makes me feel exceedingly stupid, directionless, and confused. It's annoying!

and i have come to realize how tiring it is to be tired. It's like the more i feel exhaustion, instead of being relieved, the tired feeling just grows exponentially as if taking over my being and my consciousness once more leaving me in the same whirlwind of nothingness.

Oh i am so tired!

"Ding! Ang bato!"

That's my favorite line from Darna, which is by the way airing as a series now on GMA. I've loved that show for as far back as i could remember. It's quite uncommon to find a heroine in Filipino setting. Although i have to admit, Darna is so UNoriginal, it hurts. She is the epitome of a borrowed archetype (Wonder Woman, is that you?), translated into Filipino.

I can't help it though. I find her cute... ok, sexy.

And true to the Filipino collective culture, is the presence of Ding - the (this time cute) ever loyal side kick. I like him too. Ergo the aforementioned favorite line, "Ding! Ang bato!"

I want to hear Angel Locsin pull that off. She has a great body but I'm not sure she's talented enough to play Darna. I think the Mulawin frenzy typecasted her into the you-wouldn't-know-i-could-be-the-superhero character. Such a shame, i personally preferred Karylle's aesthetic appeal... strong and confident. I find Angel Locsin plays her roles with a more cutesy look-at-me-inaapi-ako approach. No offense to the Angel Locsin fans out there. But in fairness, i think she's hot too.

Moving on, i like Darna (ok how many times have i repeated that?) more for the way the core interaction and relationship is structured, rather than the good versus bad dilemma and crude sci-fi battle scenes.

One thing though that puzzles me about Darna... how on earth does she swallow that stone then spit it out after? Regurgitation like a cow? Oh well... she is a superheroine after all.

will it ever end?

will self-doubt ever succumb?
will problems never cease?

are miracles real?
if they are, why can't they be as concrete as disasters?
if they are, why can't they be as common as tragedies?

if for every hurt there was a value
i would be a millionaire

if for every pain there was a prize
everybody would be winners

why is the negative,
the difficult,
the wrong
always more distinct,
more obvious
more ubiquituous