Indulgence

shattered glass, drinking at 4 in the morning and some-kind of friends...

a text from my Dad
When the talk is good and the feelin gis easy and the laughter is light and the memories are many but the time is too short... then you know you're with a friend.

Right after my shoot yesterday (or early this morning if you want to be exact), at around 3 in the morning, I rushed to Ortigas to meet up with an old friend who got a hotel room because he found no one to go to Boracay with him for the long weekend. I got there at 4am and he had just come back from the city where he dropped off a few friends to a club.

We went up to his room and began finishing what remains of the wine and blendered some gin, pomelo juice and ice. Drinking the spirits quickly, we were fast drunk and talking loudly about bullshit people -- people who have no regard for friendship and propriety. After all, my friend's ex became his ex by sleeping with a friend. Talk about friends, huh?

But things are fine now. My friend had his closure and we were just talking of things in the past tense. We were only agitated by the alcohol and the lack of sleep. We were fast asleep, sometimes punctuating a point while our eyes were closed, hugging the pillows and settling into the soft mattress. With the lights closed except for the one in the doorway, you could have sworn we were asleep except someone would just suddenly speak out an idea that came to mind.

We haven't seen each other in a while so catching up went all the way through half-asleep and a little bit drunk.

Funny to think, on my way there, in the cab, right before we got down on one of the underpasses of Cubao, the windshield of the taxi driver just burst. No stone was thrown, nothing we could see or suppose broke that windshield. It just cracked, fully and we had to stop and we stepped out of the car amidst the many buses and other vehicles honking us in annoyance. We looked around us and found nothing that could have caused the shattering of the windshield glass. It just popped. From the heat? Pressure? I don't know.

I had to walk along EDSA with the cars flashing their lights at me and beeping their horns wondering what the hell was I doing in the middle of EDSA. The purple gate that was put up to stop the cars from changing lanes stopped me from immediately crossing. All of a sudden, I was one of the people I always complain about when I use to drive.

The next taxi I boarded refused to go over 25. I bet I could've gotten to the hotel faster on foot. But I didn't want to rush him. I didn't think his car could handle the speed. It was a weird night, to say the least.

Strange how things are, huh? Fact is always stranger than fiction. That's why I believe everything until proven false. It's just that I've witnessed so many strange things in my life. With the things I've experienced, heard about and read; who can say that we don't live in a magickal world...

posted by wanggo @ 4:32 PM