If the Shoe Fits

Aisles of pretty shoes
Blind me like cherries
My eyes turn misty
And my feet, longing

Rain Check

I plopped in front of the TV eating my crappy microwave dinner. I switched on to the E! channel and Rain Man was being shown. It stars Tom Cruise and Dustin Hoffman in his stellar Oscar performance. I could not bring myself to watch the ending of the movie. First, I saw it like 8- 9 times as a staple requirement in my graduate studies and second, it hurts me to remember a friend who has a "rain cloud". I never had the chance to say goodbye for I was in a very painful and confusing situation in that period of my life. In one of the rare times, I become selfish and I bolt out when I see that the person I thought had affection for me was the first person to laugh at my New York Dream alongside with his whole family. But not this person, he may be a part of that family but he was different. They viewed him as a liability, a mistake and a disgrace for all of them are "perfectly functioning" individuals. When I first met him, I just dismissed him as one of those odd people since I am used to dealing with special people on a regular basis. It was until one of the workers in the school told me he has a disability, she said he is "crazy." I laughed and I wanted to correct her but I guess it was useless at that point. What started with him carrying a big box of books to my room continued to almost four years of learning with him, I became his feisty advocate, ready to bust somebody's head if they make fun of him. In return, he was my constant source of laughter and a bodyguard. I mean, who would try to mess with me when I am with a big, burly guy? In a city that is a port for illegal substance, a single lady living alone can be a red flag for danger. He would wait for me each morning at the school gate and when I get off the jeepney, he would stop traffic so I can cross safely. I think he is ten times a gentleman and at the end of work, he would escort me back to my apartment. This is his favorite time since we will share a pack of cigarettes and wait for the fishball man. We would talk nonsense and laugh like kids. Most of the time, I have a confused look since he will repeat a sentence five times and he would change a topic in a split second. He is 3 years older than me but he looked up to me like a teacher and a FRIEND. One afternoon, I invited him to have a snack at Mc Donald's. He hesitated and I asked him the reason. He responded that he never came to such place much less inside a restaurant. I felt my blood boiling thinking of his family. His mother who prides herself as coming from a "Buena de Familia" (she did not like me since I did not come from one), his brother who always called him gago (stupid) and alas my ex boyfriend who just makes fun of him since this is the only thing he is good at. In front of Mc Donald's, I coached him how to order food. I watched from a distance in case he forgets a step. I was so proud of him as he ate his Big Mac meal. Then I taught him how to hold a spoon, a fork and knife properly; talk slower so people can understand him and not be afraid to ask when he needs help. From then on, he almost never had any problem buying, ordering or talking with people (most of the time, I give him a list, just in case). One Christmas, he gave me a big heavy box. He said he earned it by cleaning his grandmother's room. I opened it and I smiled when I saw a silver Zippo lighter and an ashtray as big as a boulder. I thanked him while cursing to myself since I swore off smoking since I was having difficulty sleeping already. It became my center piece on my table. I bought him an orange shirt with a capital P for Prison. He loved the shirt and he had been bugging me for months. One night, out of sheer frustration in gratitude to his brother, I tagged him to play pool with me. It was the funniest night of my life with him knocking each ball off the table and unintentionally poking people. He readily apologized and I saw pissed but scared faces. We played like there was no tomorrow and we had the whole place to ourselves since everyone left out of fear of his strength. Not all days are good for us. There are times, he gets on my nerves since he has this habit of fixing my table, lining up my books according to size and color and in the process I will lose important papers. He reasoned that I was a slob and that I should keep my table neat. It drove me nuts when he dismantled my Dinosaur because he saw that the pieces were not numbered in order. I desperately explained that there is a model to follow but of course, I lost the case. To piss his family more, I pushed that he be given a simple job in the school. One that will pay him and make him feel useful. As expected, they gave him a job in my class as my "assistant." It surprised me that he was good with kids and they loved him since he acts like them. They would climbed all over him while I check the homework. My room was the cleanest and every holiday, he would put up decorations with much glee. One Christmas, he overdid it that my room looked like a cheap pub house with too much lights. I showed him how to use the computer especially not to bang the keyboard and he taught me to listen to Wolfgang and Eminem. In time he became an ally, listening when I complained about his brother and he would make me crack up when he would imitate how I cursed. He saw how my heart was being broken and he even said that I do not deserve his brother. He proved it to me on an afternoon drive with my ex. As always, we ended up arguing and screaming at each other. To offend me more, he would drive recklessly to make me scared. That time, I just snapped and I put my foot down on the gas pedal and shouted, "You want to die, go ahead and it will all be your fault, asshole!" He pulled over and the next thing was a blur to me. All I can recall was my ex being strangled on the driver seat. I told my friend to stop. I will never forget his words."You try to do that again to Hazel, I will kill you even if I am your brother, you are more stupid than me." We stayed quiet the whole time and my ex never did that again. His family hated me because I empowered him. He was much vocal and even expressed wanting to go back to school. They never listened, just ignored him and only summons him when they need to lift a heavy load. One weekend, he was scolding their workers to be quiet because I stayed up until 3 in the morning finishing my ex's thesis. When he met him at the door, he just said "Gago! Hazel finished your papers and you don't even care if she has eaten."
I was the first person he told when he got his girlfriend pregnant and to this day I stand by my ground that she is the unstable one, not him. I almost got into a cat fight with her since she treats him like a servant. Well, they approve of her since she is from a rich family, well known in the city.
I could not answer when he asked what he should do. I was immature too and I just imagined myself in that situation. I felt so proud when he told his father and that he intends to take care of his son.
I left the school because of personal reasons. There were nasty gossips like I was pregnant, his older brother called me unstable, immoral and my ex was nowhere to be found. I guess he was under his mother's skirt all the while and only came out when he learned I was bound for he Big Apple. In that city, I have been through hell but I learned 80 % of life's lessons and 50 % of that, I owe it  to my friend with a "rain cloud."

I received a holiday card from one of my colleagues. It was her way of saying thank you for the small gift I gave her. What made it stand out was that it was the only card that had the picture of the Nativity scene. I received dozens of greeting cards but all of them had little to do with Christianity. Now, this is not a piece that will rebuke the faith that I was born and raised in. I still believe that there is a greater being than me and somehow there is truly a divine intervention. Throughout my life, whenever I am subjected to immense distress, I whisper a little request and in time, things get better. My problems do not get solved instantly nor my request for a million dollars is shipped in a USPS box and that I wake up with instant washboard abs. Certainly, my conversations with that higher being leads me to have better judgment and control my potty mouth. However, I am not sad that I cannot recall all the mysteries of the Rosary, recite the Act of Contrition impromptu or do the stations of the Cross. People may label me as a non- practicing Catholic but I live the values that I discovered as I matured. I read on other religions and I may not agree with all their teachings but I know I got rid of all the brainwashing shit that 14 years of being schooled in a catholic school has brought me. I am not after my religion teachers (at least half of them) for revenge or to have a Papal visit for redemption. I just wanted to write this for the purpose that in the future, my children will read it and  give them an early wake up call. Last thing on my mind is that they will dwell that if they steal an extra cookie, they will burn in hell for all eternity. Let me enumerate the negative experiences I had with the institution named after a Prince who gave up his title and throne to care for the plague- stricken people.

First, I vividly recall that when it is the month of October, we were given tickets (5 each) that we need to sell for fund raising for the poor in our community. Everytime, I felt skeptical since I never got to see the food being distributed among the hungry. The image of the dirty, psychologically unstable and homeless lady beside the Church made me wonder how come she is not included in the community. I tossed the tickets in my bag and when the teacher demands for it, I run to my father and beg him to buy all of them. He would always chuckle at the prizes. First prize, a small TV and 50 consolation prices. I never got any of those consolation prizes. Was I tricked? That is the lingering question until my breath ceases.

My experiences are my own and I know that there are good schools out there. I was just unfortunate to be in one which screwed up big time. Inspite of it all, I still live the lessons. Whenever I see a homeless old lady in the subway, I give a dollar or two. When I received mail from St. Jude Hospital, I write a check to help children with cancer but when I received a letter from a Catholic church in Manhattan, I tore up the paper and donated half of my wardrobe to a shelter in my community. If the Supreme being happens to read this, I hope he is smiling. I may never be canonized but I am humane to others and a bitch to the "Gargamels of the World." No subscription to gospel comics will ever teach me how to deal with reality. All I know, I see "lepers", "Pharisees" and the "Samaritans" everyday and in my own little Christian way, I deal with them.

28

Two days from now, I will be this number
Two digits that represent my existence
On this planet, I am a dot, thriving
As millions of people do

Pen Aquatic

I was rearranging and categorizing my collection of DVDs today. I was exhausted from work but it seems my mind refuses to take a break. This is a regular scenario in my life. A perfect example is when I am doing my Pilates, I am thinking of the life of Van Gogh and how displeased I am with how he was only recognized when he was six feet under. Now, let us get back to our topic which is..... my DVDs. Aside from the growing Anime collection, I noticed that I have 60 DVDs of horror such as massacres, vampires, flesh eating diseases, evil things that come to life and even a Japanese flick weirdly titled "Audition." I asked myself, "Aside from the money I spent on this stuff, what do I get from them?" Simple, I get inspiration for my writing. If Edgar Allan Poe drinks until he cannot differentiate reality from fiction, can write tales of the Black Cat and the Tell Tale Heart, why can't I indulge in my "inner sanctuary? " You may get spooked that I love vampires, werewolves, things that go up from wells, slimy, hacked body parts. To reassure you that I am quite normal, I was never diagnosed as schizophrenic or psychotic. I am just a plain eccentric writer. When I first watched "Night of the Living Dead" when I was in my elementary years, the gates of literary blood flowed through my veins. I started writing and reading like a crazed coyote. My teachers noticed that I can write about a topic upon command but there is always something peculiar about my story reports. I almost always sided with the antagonist(s) of the tale. I often pondered on the reasons that they are like that in the story. However, I know that the Catholic teachers were too prudish to confront me or they probably dismissed me as one of the "weird" ones. It has always been my pride that I never do a draft. Thoughts always flow like a river and I write down as fast as I can for fear of  losing them. During the process of my thesis writing days, I was just forced to revise it and damn, I hated it! However, my book "New York is an Island" was different, ironic because I edited and revised it 50 times (yes, I do know how to count). High school days were my latency stage. I just wrote due to requirement without too much vigor and of course under the scrutiny of my religious high school. I felt trapped and I cursed even when my papers come back with a 9 out of 10 score. I wanted to write about the craziness of the world, the angst of people and how young people like me can fall in love at the wrong place and with the wrong person. One time, I did an essay on how Rizal, our national hero made an impact on how Filipinos think. I used a term "tumatalamak" (translated as impacting/ with force). My teacher crossed it out and noted "Change your word" in red pen. I still got a high grade but I tore that paper and come to think of it, I never think highly of Rizal who was chosen by the Americans to be our national hero (no apology to the Rizalistas) but I admire Bonifacio, his being uneducated was taken against him and he was assassinated by his own supposed comrades. Okay, now where am I again? Oh! yes, the topic of how I write. In my college years, I had more freedom due to exposure to men. Before you think of anything else, I was imprisoned for four years in an all girls' high school and I did not have a single clue about them. I am eternally grateful  for being friends with an artist, a drummer, illustrator, a gay person and a soon to be priest man. I have more guy friends than women. Sometimes my boyfriend would comment that I do not act like a lady and that I have a potty mouth. I always retort that "I am prim and proper" with my fingers crossed at my back. With my thoughts of men, how their mechanism works and again being ignited by "Interview with the Vampire", I started writing like a subway train. I wrote about rebellion, depression, anger, suicide, hatred and cynical perspectives. My siblings told me that I have always been attracted to the dark side. But until now, I never drank the blood of an infant or a goat. It just so happens that I like to write the yin of things. However, I can write about the sunny and bright things of life. I was known in the University as one of the best writers of love letters. My boy friends would ask me to compose a poem for their object(s) of affection or a love letter celebrating 5th monthsary. I wrote them as if I were the one in love. One day, I found my own letter sent to me signed by an ardent suitor. I laughed it off and until this day, I do not have any attempt of accusing him of plagiarism. The first time I fell in love with a man, it was tragic and so were my poems for him. I burned them all with my young heart. It was only when I was 19 that I opened my heart again but somehow, I never got those words back. Perhaps, love has bitten me in the ass big time. My writings were my treasures but I was careless with them. I did not keep a copy since I liked giving them away to people who are interested or were "weird" as I am. In my senior year, I wrote an essay about sex for the first time. I let my professor read it and I saw her turn beet red. She said "Excellent writing! but wait until you graduate." Right then I knew, I can write with impact. I can surprise, upstage, mock, challenge and even provoke thinking among readers. 

In the film "Life Aquatic", Bill Murray was Steve Zissou who was in pursuit of "The Jaguar Shark." I love the movie aside from the fact that he is one of my favorite actors but his portrayal of a "never give up, never surrender" zeal until he met his fish; in his Belafonte, he dived into the deepest oceans to seek his final quest, I empathize with the character . I know I will write hundreds maybe thousands of essays, poems and books. I wrote two books already. One is in the field of my occupation and the other one is awaiting approval of the publisher within two months. Come what may, I will still watch flicks of splashing blood, tortured and mangled bodies and a brilliant Psychiatrist who fancies fried brains. The undead, the disfigured and Hyde stricken beings will continue to encourage me to write. As the saying goes "The Pen is Mightier than the Sword", my writings are for fencing. But not just simple fencing but samurai sword fighting like in Kill Bill Vol.1 and 2. I guess I can write the screenplay for Vol. 3.

Besh Friends

Besh, my besh friend. Funny how we coined that term for us. I guess we were our usual non conformist personality when we agreed on how we we would address each other. I am older yet I learned so much from him. He is the person who brings laughter, chaos, excitement and continuous intellectual stimulation to my life. I am a thousand miles away yet I feel as if he just lives in the next block.  From his own words, we will always "connect in the cognitive level." It was a hate at first sight how our friendship started, I loathed him and he despised me. I saw him as a "cono/ yosilista/ manyak  and he perceived me as a bitch professor. Until I have to research about a philosopher for my thesis as the final requirement in my graduate studies. Just one final excerpt and I am done with my first defense, I asked everyone and they all pointed to him. Reluctantly, I got his number and sent him a text message to meet me at Ionic Cafe for I need his "expertise". From the moment he sat down, everything in my world changed..........

Two bottles of beer

Led to four hours of talking

It was like our individual walls just collapsed

And I felt comfortable showing my soul

The cafe was closing and he asked if I was hungry

I said yes and we crossed the street to Volante

Ordered putanesca pizza and talked nonstop

It was time to go home and he hailed a cab for me

That night I thought, damn! he is smart

My impressions were so wrong

He is not shallow because he is wiser than he thinks

Then shit! The philosophy excerpt I needed, completely forgotten

The next day in the University, he rushed to me

Handed out a paper with all the things I needed

To complete my thesis, he just smiled

And with pride, he explained to me about Rousseau

I passed the first round of defense

And throughout the whole ordeal of finishing it

He was there puffing a cigarette to cheer me on

Until the wee hours of the morning, he was there

I shared my love for sign language with him

He learned so fast and I was so proud of him

When he fell in love, I was his Dr. Love

With strategies to win her heart

But alas! His heart got broken

I said fuck it! She does not deserve you

And with a pack of cigarettes, 3 bottles of beer

Two cups of coffee, life went on

Two months before I was bound for New York

I received a phone call from him

That conversation rocked our dimensions

I was confused but I was intrigued

Everything is different between us

And I was about to leave

Yet I can't bear to lose a friend

So I took the plunge

The crazy thing was

We adored each other so much

That there was so much chaos

But it fueled every moment

It was a tug of war

It was unfair to him

I did not want to be so selfish

We held on even if it was so difficult

I did not attend my graduation

He was there, cheering for my name

He was so proud of my medal

He was more ecstatic than me

Called me on the phone and said

"Putang Ina! Haze, You should be here, it is your graduation!"

"It is fine." As I sipped my coffee under a Starbucks kiosk

The last time I saw him was in Mocha Blends

Strangely,  I held his hand so tight

I memorized his smile, the way he puffs and laughs

And the promise he said, "You will always have a piece of me"

Three days after, I was told that my flight was booked

I called him and tearfully bid farewell

We were both cursing, we should have hugged longer

Talked more and just be in that perfect moment

When I call him, it is just as if I saw him yesterday

We pick up where we left off

Besh,  you are a true friend

And I promise you, I won't drink a single cup of coffee

....... Until you are sitting across me and we will talk for hours......

Last night, I watched two movies namely Borat (which you must see especially the open minded ones) and Stranger than Fiction which stars Will Ferell and Emma Thompson. While Borat made my stomach ache with laughter, Stranger than Fiction made me think and left me with a sense of the old time saying "Live your life to the fullest since death may come unexpectedly." It is a feel good movie but it made a step higher than the rest, it actually made me understand Carpe Diem. Seize the day! As my boyfriend and I rode on the 6 train back home, I started pondering the events that I could  have "fixed" so that Carpe Diem should have taken place. Here are some of them which I may say are minuscule to the amount of thoughts I have in a day.

1. In my nursery days, I mastered saying "Grandma, but I am still sleepy" while being encouraged to goto school. I will wake up late and  have a nice brunch. She would justify that I watch Batibot during lunchtime and Sesame Street in the afternoon.  (Who can blame her? she spoiled me with love for 6 years enough to withstand 14 years of pain ) I would say "Seize the day!" and go to school religiously. Perhaps I might have been better at finger painting and not finger bang bang nowadays (for you who are reading this, keep in mind that the author is not yet canonized)

2. The times when my rich childhood playmate  would tease me because I was poor and I didn't have the ALF stuffed toy, I would say "Seize the Day!" and snatch her precious alien (which I have in my complete DVD collection) and break its furry neck. I would have learned to be more assertive and not put up with people's shit. Last thing I heard, she works in one of the Chinese malls.

3. I had my first crush in 1st grade, his name was Christopher. I liked him because he was so good at Reading and he had long eyelashes. I sat next to him and when the nun teacher would call for oral recitation, he would raise his hand with so much valor and I will just run out of breath upon hearing him. I would say "Sieze the Day!" and  kiss him or maybe more innocent than that, a grope in the ass, ey? Perhaps I would have no fear of believing that friends can become lovers in college.

4. High school sucks inside the classroom. October, rosary and charity month! Give this envelope to your parents and bring back the money on Monday. I would say to the fat old nuns "Sieze the day I mean that envelope and give the money to that beggar who lives at the back of our parish church.

5. My sweet college days, each semester I always have a stupid professor or as I may say it, the mediocre ones who just gets paid by the University and makes me sit for an hour listening to senseless jabberings from her. him reading from the textbook. No eye contact, no interaction with students. In a flash. I would "sieze the period!" and say " I didn't pay you to make me read silently Macbeth for one fucking hour, make me understand its relevance!" Well I graduated so I forgive her wherever she is maybe still teaching works of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet to snoring students.

6. Relationships... Now I was bad at this department. I was always a jerk magnet or good guys in the eyes of society but total assholes inside. I put up with them for the looooonnnnnnnnnnggggesst time. I would say "Sieze the day! and call my best friend and .....
 My boyfriend has given me the newest DS lite game, he is sweet, responsible, patient and he comes with a "not a jerk" tag in his shirt.

7. I always wanted to write a book even before graduate school. I was stupid not to keep a copy of poems or essays. But now it is different! I actually finished a book and just waiting/ pleading publishers to help me. Whatever happens, I did it "Carpe Diem! I did. I got plan A and B. Plan A is a children's' book and Plan C is a poetry book (which is still about to be finished)

To my readers, Carpe Diem! and "Sieze that last chocolate chip cookie!" You deserve it and it makes you human....slick and sneaky.

If only for one day, I will be a child again

Color my skies green, draw purple birds

And say to my kindergarten teacher

 "I like my pictures just the way they are"

And grin and ask for an extra cookie  

 If only for one day, I will be a teenager again

 Listen more to what the elders say

Then make more mistakes, loosen up

Learn from failures, not books

And be wiser not intelligent  

 If only for one day, I will choose another degree

No offense to Psychology, yet it put a mask

Between me and reality, wasting my time

Analyzing the past which is actually futile

 I will take up Commerce or Business Management

And be better at managing my hard earned money  

If only for one day, I will be my Mother

I will not dwell on misery and self-pity

Say "Fuck it!" He is a jerk, always will be

And move on, love my children

Letting them fail, for they are not perfect  

If only for one day, I will be my Father

I will wait for my true love to return

She did, but I got married to another out of rebound

A huge mistake, a miserable union, a pointless argument

I may not be a good husband but I’ll try to be a better dad  

If only for one day,. I will be my brother

I will say. "I am gay from the moment I was conceived"

 "I am not perfect Mom and I cannot be your counselor"

"I am your son who needs you, these medals mean nothing

They just added to the hollow space inside me"  

If only for a day, I will be my sister

Stand in front of the mirror and say "I am Pretty"

Even if mom says I am hideous and hopeless

I will be myself for I am smarter

And soothe my scars for my own child  

If only for one day, I will be my grandmother

Take credit for taking care of my grandchildren

When their parents were busy killing each other

I will fight to call them my own, save them

And call the police when they get beaten until they bleed  

If only for one day, I will be a single parent

I will carry all the huge responsibilities

I do not believe in saving face, it didn’t work out

With others, the hell I care, my child is most important

I can be better that those nonstop quarreling couples    

If only for one day, I will be my guy best friend in college

I will tell Hazel that I love her for the longest time

I will not waste 4 years waiting for the moment, thousands they were

I will not die wishing her luck and joy with her flame

I’ll be proud to say I know what makes her happy and there is hope for us  

If only for one day, I will be my gay best friend

Stand up to my father who beats me

No job, a nuisance, a total jerk

I will stand proud of who I am, live my decision

I choose to be me, so who gives a damn?  

If only for one day, I will be my boyfriend

Show disappointment when Hazel shows up late

Scold her gently for being a brat, an irrational and impatient one

Tell her that she is better than she thinks she is, she can achieve

And that life goes on, useless to wish that some events didn’t happen  

If only for one day, I will be my real self

No pretense, no follower of social expectations

For my age, I still believe that lightning

Is God’s Camera Flash when he takes a picture of me

I will always jump for joy when I see fireworks

And steal one more bite of that deliriously chocolate cake  

If only for one day, I will not be Ms. T the teacher

I will be painting and sketching again, writing riddles

Writing erotic poems which almost stopped me from graduating college

Read books in the speed of light and make a paper one-hour tops

Write love letters and get paid by my classmates for they

Always win the girl, one time, I got my own letter  

If only for one day, I can be just Hazel Without the label of an educator

An Author of Books, A teacher for special children, A sign language interpreter  

If only for one day, I will burn and not cook

Swim in my living room floor, squirming too

Counting the specks of white paint on the ceiling

Breathe like I mean it, laugh like I deserve it  

I guess we all need one day to be ourselves

Or try to imagine being like others

Perhaps we can fathom their dynamics

And also decode who we really are  

Set aside one day for yourself

You never know that behind that facade

Is a person inside that you never met before

But once you did,  it will surely be a blast

A rainy and chilly autumn day, silence utters hush

In the Big Apple, time seems to slow down

I slept like a bear under the covers, seeking warmth

One of the greatest thing a person can do

Is to sleep in for a day, once in a while

I chose happily, not to go out

Not to go shop or eat or run

Like what all Nyorkers do

I preferred to stay and think

Reminisce, the way I always do

I watched a flick instead

Funny, heartwarming love story

Girl always ends up with boy

Inspite of it all, the foolishness

True love prevails

Then a scene flashed before me

Deja vu, or so I think

I was in that scene, exactly the same

And I did what the actress did

Run away, we were confused

In the movie, she made the right choice

To be with the one who truly loves her

They kiss at the end, all smiles

A perfect ending, everybody is happy

Another disc to add to love stories

My heart told me something

It had run miles, I mean thousands of miles

On smooth ground, painful paths

Thorny and deceitful turns

But it never stopped hoping

My heart just continued

Beating, even if it was tiring

Even if I said "Stop!"

It never listened, stubborn heart!

It still loved, longed to be loved

My heart broke into a gazillion pieces

Shards as I may say, bruised and broken

I thought it was the end, I am a casualty

That my love story is a tragic one

I stopped believing

However, remnants of the good times

still creep into thy veins

Reminding me, that "hey, it was worth it"

I am not perfect, neither was he

But we tried but everyone grows up

A rush of memories unfold

A dozen balloons in the mall terrace

A cake that said "Marry Me"

"Above all, you are everything to me"

In a long quiet evening drive

Sweet text messages while taking my exams

Walking along the beach, watching the sunset

Celebrating hearts' day in a parking lot

With a soda and large fries

Those moments, I was in love

But life is unpredictable

What you want three years ago

Is not exactly what you want today

This means you have matured

And you are finding the path

The path that might lead you to the One

I am a hopeless nostalgic

and a hopeless romantic

But I always believed that maybe

Someday, I won't run away

And let that man sweep me off my feet

Just like in the movies

You never know who might come

Right now, I am happy. I chose M

He is more than ten times the worth

of all the Hollywood leading men

I have a student

A fragile young boy

Has to wear a helmet

for his head is too soft

A simple bump can be fatal

He is supported by steel braces

from chest to his legs

He wanders aimlessly

Needs to be called three times

in a loud voice since he has partial hearing loss

Attention Span is way too short

Yet he is so enthusiastic

So affectionate, so angelic

You can't help but to fall

for his unique charm

It is hard to facilitate his teaching

But he had me at "Morning, T"

9 months to be with him

I will hold his hand as we travel along the path

Together with his steel braces

And his big helmet

With my mind, body And heart, I will try

to "Bend" those rods

So he can be Free

Free to realize he has so much worth

In this apathetic world