. grrrl .

kate, 18, is currently a junior journalism major at the university of the philippines, diliman.

she digs buffy the vampire slayer, pays homage to faith and eliza dushku, and drools over spike and james marsters' accent. she cried when tara died in "seeing red". she had desperately tried to dye her hair the exact colour of willow's hair for several times now, but miserably failed. every time.

when she's not abandoning everything else for the love of buffy, she also writes much, while listening to sarah mclachlan, tori amos, clair marlo, lisa loeb, lifehouse, the corrs, matchbox twenty, and evanescence.

she's single, and she (thinks) she's now tired of looking at the wrong places for the right person.

[she's crazy about webdesign, and she swears she'll marry the geniuses behind adobe photoshop and macromedia dreamweaver. check out her recommendations, as well as her other sites at linkage.]

smoke

It starts with a spark,
a flicker.
Tiny brown leaves burning, turning slowly
into black.

And then, white,
fine wisps of smoke,
floating,
breaking from the deep orange, shooting idly into the air,
a translucent demon in angel robes.

Then the ashes fall apart.

Twenty months unforgiven, forbidden.
Stolen nicotine shots, and nothing else
but a box of matches.

Twenty months.

Random corners, and deserted classrooms, and
noiseless university corridors -
she comes out only when the people have stopped
watching.

And then, she sits,
staring at the orange glow -
It's drawing her in and pushing her away
and hooking its claws on her fingertips.

She asks why she's still there when she doesn't
understand. She doesn't bother
with the questions. She takes it in,
one swift sip.

She exhales in awe.
Twenty months, and
she's still in awe.

==