2/26/2007
Of illuminated cakes and orange tarts

For a few moments I got one confused with the other, although basically Kimmi and Piyar are one and the same. After waiting almost two hours, in between touring malls, getting apprehended and sitting alone in tables, that ever-bubbly girl with a sparkle in her eyes finally got welcomed into what is considered legal, although she's been in that position for so long. And I sat there, half-uncomfortable because of what I decided to wear.

But when I finally got to personally greet the debutante, one thing was on the agenda: my outfit. And yes, I did remember that Piyar and I talked about my usual what-should-I-wear dilemma, especially when she initially described the affair as something patterned after some music award ceremony. And I failed to look like someone significant, for that matter, until I realized Piolo Pascual had the same look, only with a longer-sleeved shirt under.

I think I've learned to desensitize myself after debuts. Four of them, and only one had me as a last-minute replacement for some significant event. I don't take it against anyone, but it always glows as a sign of my increasing irrelevance in this world - tantamount to why I miss out on everything from happiness opportunities to understood inside jokes. Maybe it did make me feel so well that Ella, who also came, asked me about why I wasn't uploading Fifth Year Holler lately, and only because apparently she was waiting for more Cuyeg-Malia paparazzi photos. And if it helps more, I finally became brutally frank at Jason, but then again, who gives a damn about what I think anyway?

But my mind was on other things. Two things got me distracted in the five hours I spent at the Crowne Plaza: Piyar's apparent contact with celebrity (from host Rico Robles to comedian Chokoleit) and her gown, because I wondered about what she'd wear considering the announced theme. And the sequins were pretty hard on my palms - in the two instances she offered me a hug because I made it, and eventually because I'm leaving, that observation stood out - but that was another point, that for once, someone would offer the hug, not the other way around.

So my mind was indeed occupied. My mind wandered as I sat from the table, from radio spiels to dark chocolate to how Ella held her tummy when Jason was singing on an ill-fated set. I didn't really want to go home, but I was already feeling fatigue, and yet I was in the car and couldn't fall asleep. My mind was still drifting to how I kept on missing opportunities, to maybe something as random as an irritatingly deleted, innocently made inquiry.

I held on to it until today. By then I was climbing ladders, hanging movie tickets, trying to decipher statistical problems, and doing the same old things I struggled to prevent myself from doing. No explanation was provided, quite honestly. I didn't bring my gift along, but I wouldn't see the bubbly girl who was dancing unbelievably across the stage two nights ago. I didn't get to prepare myself for whatever was happening; I let go of a hundred bucks and lost myself in unnecessary images. And, if it wasn't any bigger a coincidence, I went up the stairs and saw Sarah wearing eyeliner. It only accentuated the eyes, but it burned through my memory and stayed there for thirty minutes.

If only I wasn't that lost today, then maybe things wouldn't strike me as hard as today. I was half-inspired to do snazzy titles for radio shows at everyone's whim and got three out, although I ended up getting hyperactive myself and was more tired than whoever else existed. Maybe today, in the bus home, I dreamt of possibilities that would remain as possibilities; suddenly I couldn't care less. I type in these words without realizing, until the very last minute, that the very things I wanted to write about have left my mind, probably the moment I accommodated those eyes and let it play with me. And, so far, I couldn't be any happier. So far, it's stuck with me, my apparent indifference towards the world, and why I keep on thinking of these things when they wouldn't matter anyway. Or why I wished people weren't indifferent to me.

I'll admit, I went out of my way for a short time before realizing indifference is a game we all want to play with. Maybe something like meeting Arlene at the church yesterday, until I realized the mass was over and she's left, but again I was in the "wonderful world" that is ATC. And I stayed until nine in the evening, lost my abilities and fell asleep.

I woke up thinking of the same things, until everything happened.

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