After tormenting my best friend, she is at last starting her own blog. Deciding on her blog's title took us from dinner time to past midnight. Her chest flat on bed, looking at the new laptop's screen while resting her chin on her forearms. I squat on the floor. My hands clawing over the keyboard checking for crazy, silly names' availability in Blogger.
Derogatory, weird and sexist names, we'd burst out in endless, annoying laughter-unmindful of the guy sleeping just next to her wall. We were both jobless then.
She's my runaway girl. When one of the big surprises occurred to her, I called. She was already in the bus bound for province. Escaping just like a meteorite. It falls down to the Earth, yet nobody knows where it lands. It recognizes the surface it hits on, it's not the right place though.
I do runaway too. We're both "krung-krung" or crazy.
Thou shalt not believe what she mentioned-the unbearable life without me on her side to share her problems with. We still talk everyday. (Basagan ba 'to?). I miss her amazing creativity in cooking. She cooks so well, irrespective of the limited spices and ingredients in our can-also-be-a-washing-area kitchen sink. Zone out girl is a helluva sensible person. There are things or events I couldn't describe well and she'd surprise me with her sound ability to feel or perceive.
You are getting spoiled Beh, glorification stops here. LOL! Good job on your second post.