Lunes, Oktubre 21, 2013

Date A Girl... (A Reblog)

Date a Girl Who Reads 

“Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or if she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”
Rosemarie Urquico 

Date A Girl Who Writes by Effie Sapuridis
Date a girl who writes. Date a girl who admires the calligraphy of Ancient China more than the latest fall line. She has ink smudges on her fingers, sometimes on her cheeks. Date a girl who comes with a list of unfinished poems, underdeveloped characters, incomplete plot lines, who has been writing since she could read.
Find a girl who writes. Look for the girl with frazzled hair and a pen behind her ear. She’s the one who spends hours deciding which new notebook to buy, only to cave and buy three, the one who rarely makes a grammatical error. If you were to search her bag, you’d find scraps of paper with incomprehensible notes and pens whose lives have ended a long time ago. That’s the writer.
The girl who writes can be seen anywhere, if you look for her. The girl who writes is always looking at you, and anyone else. She knows inspiration can be found in everything. She’s the girl you’ll find on a park bench, pen behind her ear, another in her hand, jotting down things with great, great concentration, just because coffee shops are loud. She will however be carrying coffee in a travel mug. If you looked inside the mug, you’d notice the coffee was finished – the girl who writes needs caffeine like water. Bum a cigarette off her. Notice her eyes give you a full appraisal before she hands you a cigarette. She’s profiling you.
Say something.
Don’t ever start by asking to see her writing.
Tell her something you’re sure she never knew before. A random fact, even. This will grab her attention. This will make her think, ‘what kind of plot twist is the stranger offering to the protagonist?’ When she brings up e.e. Cummings and Plath, don’t act like you know who they are if you don’t. She will test you. Ask her about them. Ask her about her favorites. Ask her if she’d like to go see a movie with you.
Always surprise her.
In reality, it’s not that difficult to date a girl who writes. Accept that she will not show you anything she’s written until she’s ready. Understand that sometimes her stories aren’t developing the way she wants and she will be angry, bitter. Be patient, be jealous of her love for worlds you can’t even begin to enter. Buy her new books, new pens, new notebooks. Surround her with words. Dedicate songs to her. Leave little notes in her lunch bag. Words, for the writer, are more intimate and personal than a sensual touch. She hears their whispers, feels them, embraces them.
If one day, you walk into the house, and she’s in a foul mood. There are pages scattered everywhere. She’s watching TV, which she never does. Don’t ask. The words got the best of her. They put up a wall and as much as she pleaded, as much as she paced, drank coffee, took a bath, went for a walk, pace some more, as much as she played with synonyms and antonyms, made comparisons, expanded the plotline then brought it back to where it was, she could not get through the block. Don’t bother comforting her. Buy paint and a canvas, let her attack it. Carry her to the bed and let her attack you. The girl who writes does not need soothing and comfort, she needs an outlet to rid herself of the overbearing emotions that are sadness or anger. Before she can write again.
The girl who writes knows exactly when a break is needed in a story. The girl who writes expects a climax. But the girl who writes is also almost never in control of her story. The characters dictate to her what they would like to do next. The story is as thrilling for her, the writer, as it is for her close sister, the reader. She relishes in these surprises, in these sharp turns, in these unforgiving assessments. She dreams of the day when her story, her life story, will be as classic as Poe or as tormented as Brite. This day that she waits for, this will be the day her story will begin.
On the day when she timidly, a deep blush rising on her cheeks, extends a bundle of loose sheets of paper, some old, some new, towards you, you’ll know you’ve successfully captured the heart of the girl who writes. Read everything she has given you, unless she stops you. Recognize, and tell her, about the beauty of her words, the conviction of her prose, the pain behind her poetry. Don’t look at her with pity when she hands you a poem about a broken heart – following it, you’ll read one about you and how maybe her heart was not so broken after all. In any case, the girl who writes does not accept pity. She is the amazon goddess of the writing world. She is the soldier, the fighter, the good guy. She is stronger than a house of bricks and her writing keeps her demons in place, holding them down and releasing her.
Date a girl who writes because she will change your world. She will bring color into your grays. When you propose, she will have known for months that it was coming. She could read your body language from miles away. She will say the simplest phrase you have ever heard her say – yes, I do – and then she will begin to carefully craft the story of your lives. Through ups and downs and births and deaths, through funny family moments and trips to unknown places (in search of new inspiration), through misadventures and inky cheeks, through everything, anything, and all that is not yet written, the girl who writes will be the doe-eyed, love-struck narrator of the story and you, her forever after knight in shining armor.

Miyerkules, Oktubre 9, 2013

Now Playing: Love Story

"We were both young when I first saw you..."

Once more. Once again. She picked up her now old notebook and started scribbling in it. This time, it's a letter addressed to someone who has been a constant occupant of her mind.

Dear Mind-bender,

I can't stand it no more -- this helplessness I feel because of you, this constant confusions and denials. I really can't stand it no more. I don't blame you. This is not your fault. Although, I really want to blame you for this. I know that thinking of you has been my constant habit these past few days. I don't find it irritating, don't misunderstand me. It's just that because of this crazy habit of mine, I find myself starting to fall in love with you and I guess, this is not a healthy feeling.

I can't believe I'm actually feeling this way. Questions like 'Why so sudden?' and 'Why so fast?' float in my head endlessly. I can't seem to fathom how all of these started. Was it when you shared your world to me? Or was it that time when you came to be with me in the most unexpected scenario there is? I don't know. I don't know how all these started. All I know is that every time I think of you, my heart starts beating like it's been through a race. I can't seem to understand why my hands get so sweaty and cold every time I hear your name. 

I'm familiar with all these things. The fast beating of my heart, my glowing aura, my flushed cheeks and the bright glow of my eyes -- all these and more are enough evidences that I'm really starting to fall in love with you. 

I'm scared. It's not that I don't want to. Being in love is the greatest and most overwhelming feeling in this world. But I'm scared of falling in love again. What if this will be just like the others that I've been through before? What if this is just another unrequited love that I have to suffer? What if this is just going to be a repeat of all those pains and hurts? What if?

I'm scared. So if you're just here to teach me another lesson about getting hurt again, please, pretty please, stop. I beg of you.

Confused Soul,
Girl

"It's a love story, baby, just say 'yes'."

Lunes, Oktubre 7, 2013

Now Playing: Kiss, Kiss, Fall In Love

"To fall in love is an awfully scary thing to do..."

Fall in love. Try again. Smile. Be inspired. All of those and more. But to fall in love means being open to pain and hurt again. To fall in love means being vulnerable once more. Can a girl try again? Can she open her heart once more and be vulnerable to someone again? What if she'll get hurt again? What if this time she can't make it? What if this time the same old story will repeat again?

She paced to and fro in her room. Her hands cold, her head throbbing, not with pain but with so much confusion. She stopped, frozen on her tracks when she felt that familiar beating of her heart once again. She rushed in front of the mirror, only to gasped loudly when she saw that her eyes were twinkling, her cheeks red and she's glowing. She knew that look. She knew that aura. She's starting... yes, starting to fall in love.

She sighed. She can't afford to fall in love. She just can't. She'll get hurt again. She's scared. She's scared because she knew that this time, once more, this love that she's feeling is unrequited. They're worlds apart.

She can't fall. She'll get hurt. She's scared of heights. She'll get hurt. She just knew.