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July 14, 2008

Boundless...

I wish I can slide in that colorful rainbow that marked the ever blue sky. Then I would scream so much as I go down the slide with my hair all over the air and with my eyes filled with vague liquid substance. I would do it again and again until I can no longer scream, until I can no longer climb up and down that rainbow.

I would want to ride in a canoe in that untouched and seemingly green oceans. Then I would see dolphins and whales underneath the heaven of waters, and then they would jump across and over my canoe leaving me with amazement and in awe. I would run untiringly in that sugar like white sand in the seashore and leave footprints on it. I would create a castle using the sand.

I want to bath in the rain. I want to feel in my skin those drops of water as they come rushing down from the heavens. I would get wet under the rain while my jeans and shoes are still on. I would spin around like a wheel. I would dance together with the little ones as we bath in the streets. I would like to kiss my girl under the rain as we take shelter in a single umbrella then we would take the umbrella out and let the rain pour on us as we continue to savor the moment.

A place of boundless things. A moment in the absence of sufferings. A scene of delightful views. A journey of endless joy.

In the midst of its ambiguity, I want to dream BIG. I want to dream HIGH. I want to dream GOOD. I want to dream, I just want to dream and dream and keep dreaming.

I want to dream bounded with nothing but joy and happiness. At least in dreams, I can be happy for all eternity, regardless of the moment I wake up and face again what is reality.

July 8, 2008

Basurero!

Thy skin. Burned by the raging heat of the mighty sun.

Thy face. Painted with a shadow of grief.

Thy eyes. Has lost hope but willing to take chances.

Thy smile. Momentarily substitute the ever lasting pains.

Thy body. Evidence of the what so called poverty.

Thy heart. Bruised by societal discrimination.

Thy feet. Crumpled and strengthened by the dusty and rocky road.

Thy ears. Deafened by all the unsolicited screams.

Thy back. Hardened by the burden and load they carry.

Thy hands. Toiled with undying urge to live.

Thy treasure. Someone else’s garbage.

Thy sweat. Sign of the unwanted tiredness.

Thy food. Someone’s leftovers.

Thy clothes. Torn and dirty, but covers thou from the cold nights.

Thy screams. Loud but unheard.

Thy sorrows. Left unsaid.

Thy hope. Disregarded.

Thy home. The streets.

Thy journey. Endless.

Thy strength. LIFE.

Thy called. BASURERO!