MUSING Travel is not about plans, rather it is more of unexpectations, of surprises, and of their welcomeness, of their unwelcomeness.On our way to Tingko Beach, my companion, Virhenia the clown, tagged two boys we shortly met at Obong Spring. Boys, they always desired to impress girls. They should take note though not all girls can be floored with “he’s a relative of the town mayor” line. Not all girls can withstand boys who cannot stay in a five-meter-deep water for a minute. Not all girls need the company of boys to enjoy an excursion.Upon pondering the situation on, their presence […]
“What rot, I didn’t mean it, did you mean it?” (“No, of course not, of course I didn’t mean it.”) They laughed in recognition of their extremity, just as they might have laughed at another time, in the middle of quite different, astoundingly tender declarations. They trembled with murderous pleasure, with the excitement of saying what could never be retracted, they exulted in wounds inflicted but also in wounds received, and one of the other said at some point, “This is the first time we’ve spoken the truth since we’ve known each other!” For even things that came to them […]
MUSING A curve can be a camouflage belying what is ahead. A curve can be a threat, alarming one it is a cliff racing to infinity. A curve can be an appetizer, making one long for more. A road curve can be a signal, telling it is a new town yet again, it is Boljoon.