Last Evening

Got this from Peachy and surprisingly, I think it was right on target:

Your Birthdate: August 29

Your birthday on the 29th adds a tone of idealism to your nature. You are imaginative and creative, but rather uncomfortable in the business world. You are very aware and sensitive, with outstanding intuitive skills and analytical abilities. The 29 reduces to 11, one of the master numbers which often produces much nervous tension. This is the birthday of the dreamer rather than the doer. You do, however, work very well with people.

***

Yesterday it felt weird to discover that my mom shared her birthday with a lot of people connected to me one way or another. Such a small world it really is.

Incidentally an advanced birthday greeting for me aired on national radio—in between rants against PGMA—which was queer because my mindset was that it was my mom’s birthday, and even more queer because I never really heard the greeting myself. Oh well, at least I could say that I somewhat shared some precious radio airplay with the President. How about that for a change in this streak of unlucky birthdays?


***

Ma’am Beni totally rocked last night. I’m just so glad that I didn’t miss her event at Conspiracy. It was a night of poetry, music and then some—even a Dumaguete roommates’ reunion of sorts too. Here’s her poem that is so not in season, which I’ll be posting anyway:


Evening

Summer sky of azure and white
folds upon itself;
seeks its breathing navel of darkness
in the gray mantle of mist
it sucks from the undulating belly
of ocean.

I lie in the crook of your arm
warm like cinders of an afternoon’s bonfire
of brown mango leaves, twigs, twine.

Half-angel, half-star
I gaze into your eyes and learn
how wise it is for this galaxy we swim in
to keep expanding its edges
into eternal night.
How much wiser to encase us
In a lingering embrace
of limbs and loins and inner light.

Summer sky of azure and white
enters itself with itself in itself
in and out, slow and cool
like finger in inner thigh:
a lonely star embedded
in an angelic cheek.

(Benilda Santos)


***

I think I really make a freaky fangirl. Last night I heard my band-of-the-moment perform live again, and I felt like such a stalker. I even asked friends to be decoys just to make my adoration less apparent. I would have made a good PR person for them though, and I think I’ve just successfully won Larry over into buying their album.

Hah.