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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=486090" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>At The Mactan International Airport</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">a diary: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">we arrive15 minutes early.<br>i have only two light bags. <br>this time i travel as light as<br>a feather.This time i travel <br>alone. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">it is a connecting flight<br>to caticlan. I have to wait<br>for another 7 hours. <br>there will be too much<br>minding on arrivals and<br>departure. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">i escape this waiting<br>and goes to the ayala mall.<br>got some italian pasta<br>and fresh veggies for <br>lunch. iced tea to appease<br>the longing of my <br>throat. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">i hop to another japanese<br>resto nearby. The soft<br>salmon sushi and <br>californian maki this <br>time.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i pooed at rai-rai ken's<br>comfort room. And i <br>remember the famous<br>poem of the poo<br>and the cheese and<br>the grand feeling<br>of freeing waste<br>from the system.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">great writer, huh? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">and someone just ask<br>me if a fake poet just <br>sent me a love note<br>from brazil or <br>nicaragua. I laugh.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">what is the need<br>to know the name<br>of someone who<br>loves you and sends<br>you a note and does<br>not tell her <br>reality? is she indeed<br>true? is she as real<br>as her poems.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i have other matters<br>to attend to. This time<br>another pizza at the <br>yellow taxi cab and<br>coca-cola, and </div><div style="margin:10px 0">then i have to buy<br>an ear plug and some<br>sun block.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">now i have something<br>more in my mind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">a swim in a blue sea.<br>snorkling. island hopping.<br>corals. colored fish.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the white sands of boracay.<br>boats. banana boats.<br>white towels. buffet by the sea.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">a walk at the beach at dawn<br>and then seeing the sun rising.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">a walk again in the afternoon<br>and seeing the sun setting.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">things like these. somehow<br>i am now ready and willing to<br>forget where i come from.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i am new. i am a fish. i am <br>a coral. i am a starfish.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i sit on one of those empty<br>chairs, a table of my own.<br>a candle light. and i am ready<br>to tell anybody that i am alone<br>and i have a name.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i need to practice how to smile<br>and yes, be attractive and<br>yes, be seductive.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(ha ha ha ha)</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ric+S.+Bastasa">Ric S. Bastasa</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=486090" data-title="At The Mactan International Airport de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="a diary: 

we arrive15 minutes early.
i have only two light bags. 
this time i travel as light as
a feather.This time i travel 
alone. 

it is a connecting flight
to caticlan. I have to wait
for another 7 hours. 
there will be too much
minding on ..."></div>
</div>
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