L'esprit de l'escalier
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Personal
To Future Girlfriend
Lots of things might happen. That’s the thing about writers. They’re unpredictable. They might bring you eggs in bed for breakfast, or they might all but ignore you for days. They might bring you eggs in bed at three in the morning. Or they might wake you up for sex at three in the morning. Or make love at four in the afternoon. They might not sleep at all. Or they might sleep right through the alarm and forget to get you up for work. Or call you home from work to kill a spider. Or refuse to speak to you after finding out you’ve never seen To Kill A Mockingbird. Or spend the last of the rent money on five kinds of soap. Or sell your textbooks for cash halfway through the semester. Or leave you love notes in your pockets. Or wash you pants with Post-It notes in the pockets so your laundry comes out covered in bits of wet paper. They might cry if the Post-It notes are unread all over your pants. It’s an unpredictable life.
But what happens if a writer falls in love with you?
This is a little more predictable. You will find your hemp necklace with the glass mushroom pendant around the neck of someone at a bus stop in a short story. Your favorite shoes will mysteriously disappear, and show up in a poem. The watch you always wear, the watch you own but never wear, the fact that you’ve never worn a watch: they suddenly belong to characters you’ve never known. And yet they’re you. They’re not you; they’re someone else entirely, but they toss their hair like you. They use the same colloquialisms as you. They scratch their nose when they lie like you. Sometimes they will be narrators; sometimes protagonists, sometimes villains. Sometimes they will be nobodies, an unimportant, static prop. This might amuse you at first. Or confuse you. You might be bewildered when books turn into mirrors. You might try to see yourself how your beloved writer sees you when you read a poem about someone who has your middle name or prose about someone who has never seen To Kill A Mockingbird. These poems and novels and short stories, they will scatter into the wind. You will wonder if you’re wandering through the pages of some story you’ve never even read. There’s no way to know. And no way to erase it. Even if you leave, a part of you will always be left behind.
If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.
(via wholesomenatae)
The Philippines is not a “reading” nation. Books in this country are considered a luxury. Underpaid and poor, most people here would rather save money for other home essentials than spend on books.
But I want to tell you some things about people who read. It’s really about finding your Mr. Darcy—to date, marry, and grow old with.
Date a man who reads. Date a man who invests on books rather than on clothes, food and electronic gadgets. His may be a messy room—with tools, magazines and electronic gadgets scattered all over. But in the litter, you’ll find a “spice.” Books. Which would make you smile.
Guys who read books do not necessarily wear eyeglasses. They are neither nerds nor emos, nor are they introvert and antisocial creatures. They would hate you for sticking that stigma on them.
Date a man who reads. Social networking sites do not spoil his life. He can survive without Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, or e-mails, but not without a good read.
Date a man who reads. For he does know the value of poetry. Yes, science, engineering, math, law and medicine, they are great pursuits. But the man who reads values love, life, true happiness—with passion.
Date a man who reads. A great place for him is a coffee shop, or anywhere cheap that he finds conducive to reading. He knows when you are upset, or happy, or guilty. He knows it because he is familiar with human emotions. You don’t need to give him a clue.
Date a man who reads because he will not take you to jampacked movie houses on premiere nights. He understands that a good movie is adapted from a great book. He knows that any movie adaptation is always inferior to its book original.
Date a man who reads. He knows that you’re going to give him a book for his birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries, but still he will be so eager to see what’s inside the gift. For he is so in love with literature—and with those who love the things he loves. Reminisce your childhood with the lessons from Dr. Seuss, “The Little Prince,” and the mysterious “Charlotte’s Web.” He’ll admire you for being familiar with those great stories.
Date a man who reads. He knows what is true, and what is fiction. If it’s possible in novels, why not in real life? Talk to him about Sherlock Holmes, of the magic kingdom of Narnia, and the best series so far, Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings.”
Date a man who reads. You’ll find him in a park, beneath a tree, with a newly acquired book whose pages could be white or yellow; or sitting by the bus window, relishing the yellow light, his perfect aphrodisiac for reading. He always welcomes a conversation with a stranger who likes to read Austen, Bronte, Woolf, Dickinson, and Niffenegger.
No, you will not find in his wallet a condom or a thick wad of money, or credit cards. Instead, you’ll find a list of books he wants to buy, and love letters and poems and quotes that he had earlier come across and that caught his interest. He does not put money in his wallet, unless he’s going to buy another book.
He knows when to make it with a girl. He doesn’t need to flirt. He has had enough flirtation in the books he had read. When he’s in love, he’s in love. He understands the concept of serendipity—and waiting. It takes time and patience to finish a Tolstoy novel.
He can spend the night with you, without sleep, and without sex, just talking endlessly about novels, and stories and poets and their lives. That Sylvia Plath committed suicide, Robert Frost took the road less traveled, Margaret Atwood knows the variation of sleep and love, and that John Keats’ last request was to place a “Here lies one whose name was writ in water” in his tombstone.
Date a man who reads. He does not judge a book by its cover. Or will he judge you by your appearance. He knows you have interesting stories “within” you, and he will listen to them, and fall in love with them. He knows how to make you smile. He’ll just read a good line, and you’ll know you’re inspired. He shares everything: the stories that break, and the ones that stink. Aside from reading, he gives you ample time—to eat, to pray, and to love. He accepts the fact that you need to find and discern yourself, sometimes.
Marry a man who reads. Make love to him as the two of you make new stories together. You’re guaranteed that your children will not have a boring childhood, that he’ll be there to tell bedtime stories because he believes (still) in fantasy even though he’s not a child anymore and he’ll play out the characters in children’s books.
He appreciates comedy and satire. His most precious belongings are his books and your family, which are to him a big story and a big event in his life. Although it is not quantifiable, he trusts the word “forever.”
Grow old with a man who reads. He knows that the worlds he has read in books will sometimes be more colorful and livelier than the world you two will actually live in. But he will not leave you. People die. Children come and go. But the memories and stories will be with you. Forever.
By the way, he believes in women’s lib, because he accepts that women are good readers, and writers too.
(via diana-voomvoom)
(via emzihammer)
- Na kaya tumitingin ang mga lalaki sa ibang babae ay para makita nila kung gaano sila kaswerte sa inyo.
- Ang mga lalaki ay hindi mind readers.
- Kung alam ninyong mataba na kayo, mataba nga talaga siguro kayo. Huwag niyo ng itanong sa kanila kung totoo.
- Ang hirap hirap pumili ng regalo tuwing monthsary.
- Shopping is not a sport.
- Sabihin mo ang gusto mong sabihin ng walang paligoy ligoy.
- Huwag mo silang piliting magkwento hangga’t hindi ka handang marinig ang tungkol sa dota, boxing, at mga action films.
- Huwag mong itanong kung bagay ba o ok ang suot mo dahil lahat naman na suotin ninyo ay bagay sa paningin nila.
- Ayaw nila na nagpapagupit kayo ng buhok.
- Galit sila sa mga ex niyo pero nagpapasalamat din ang mga yan sa kanila kaze kung hindi kayo nagkawalaan, hindi ka mapapapunta sa kanya.
- Kung alam ninyong mataba na kayo, mataba nga talaga siguro kayo. Huwag niyo ng itanong sa kanila kung totoo.
- Ang hirap hirap pumili ng regalo tuwing…
(via tumblrrmokong)
I can’t picture someone thinking about me before they fall asleep, or telling their friends about me. I can’t picture anyone getting butterflies because I said hi to them, or even just smiled at them. I can’t picture someone smiling at the computer screen or their cell phones when we’re talking.
I mean like…Why would they even do that? I’m just me. Nothing extraordinary, or special.
