. 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.]

Those Afternoons

Another crumpled piece of paper goes
into the wastebasket along
with heaps of torn writings littering
a forgotten nook in the bedroom.

Just another plan, one of those
wishes abandoned in search
of something better.

When we thought we could make
sandcastles in a sandbox
full of stones
in a playground
the children have stopped
visiting.

Just one of those things,
like make-up on pale cheeks, sickly-
white and hollow like the words
we said.

They were just those
afternoons sitting on worn
chairs in front of the old cafeteria,
listening to strings and pianos playing faraway
in a recital which will never be ours now,
sipping coffee while taking drag after drag from
a fainting marlboro,
talking like we'd just discovered
language and its mysteries,
and planning and planning
like we could do everything
we wanted…

That was all we were ever good for.

You
thought of doing something major
like a concert in Araneta.

I
thought of making paper boats
and letting them drown
under the rain.

==