Coffee Break

I always knew as a child that I wanted to be a lawyer. But as an eight year old girl growing up in a household with a vast supply of reading materials, I began a secret, deep affair with writing. A love affair that has been exciting, unpredictable, sometimes torturous, often frustrating, always comforting.

By the time I finished college, I had written quite a number of short stories and even a few novels. But some of them had one thing in common, they were unfinished. Some had a beginning and an ending, but no middle part. While others had the middle part but was missing the conclusion. Sometimes I would finish a story but would change my mind and decide to rewrite some parts and make it longer. In the end, I get tired of it and move on to the next. One of those stories was a short novel that I started writing when I was 17. It was inspired by a Neruda quote that I had read from an illustrated love story. I had since lost the computer file after several upgrades. I had completed the story in my mind, I knew how I wanted the story to flow or what the ending was, but I never got around to writing it down. But I do want to finish it. Stories are not really worth much unless they are shared and what better way to do that but by completing them and letting others read and enjoy them. Well the enjoy part is relative, and perhaps a bit presumptuous. But hey, it's the thought that counts. ;-)

Books, books and more books.
You are not falling for that Kindle crap, are you?

Every person I know who loves to write are hard core book lovers. I am no different from them. I own copies after copies of books of all kinds. A lot of them I have not yet read. But unread books resting on my shelves don't deter me from hoarding and accumulating more. It's an addiction. I am a compulsive book buyer. I am so serious about books that my dream home's most important feature, (second only to the kitchen), is a two floor library. Yesss, two floors. Just like the ones that castles have. This is one of the reasons why I have a soft spot for Cartland books which almost always feature castle-like homes with a library filled with rows and rows of books shelves that are two floors tall.

And I want the books to be varied. To come from all over the world. To be from different times, periods. When it comes to good reading materials, I do not discriminate.

In the real world, I collect books from every genre. I have mystery, suspense thriller, horror, romance, biographies, autobiographies, even self help books. I am also not particular about authors, although the best location on my shelves are occupied by the works of Edgar Allan Poe and such literature luminaries like Twain, Melville, Dickens.

I have several favorite books. One is Harvest of the Sun which to some may hardly be considered a classic. But I have a deep affection for it, the reason of which I can't really explain. Frankly, I don't even know why. Maybe someday I'll find the words, but now I can only say that I love that book and that's all there is to it.

Library of my dreams. And I mean that figuratively and literally.

“Tragedies do happen. We can discover the reason, blame others, imagine how different our lives would be had they not occurred. But none of that is important: they did occur, and so be it. From there onward we must put aside the fear that they awoke in us and begin to rebuild. ”

—	Paulo Coelho

One of my most read author is Paulo Coelho. I don't usually read popular, mainstream novels because I think that most of the talked about books now are juvenile and overrated, but there is something about Coelho. He is like a quarter in a huge pile of nickels. He is different and his work can provide more than just the tingly, squee worthy or OMG inducing scenes offered by the too common pop books that people devour today.

I woke up today reciting a line from Pablo Neruda's Cien Sonetos de Amor,

"Te amo como se aman ciertas cosa oscuras,
secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma."

Translated in English that means,

"I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul."

Now, I don't know what that was doing in my head. It's not like I'm in love or inspired, or the least interested in anyone at this time. (Not unless we count my perennial make-believe boyfriend Ben Affleck. Yes. That Ben Affleck. So I like tall, smart men, sue me!) I just woke up and found myself reciting that line. How strange is that?!

Truth is, I don't really mind if I wake every day greeting the morning sunshine with random verses from the Chileans's poems. He is, after all, one of if not the greatest 20th century poet.

Mr. Neruda's poems are boundless.

They're like those one-size-fits-all t-sirts.

The messages conveyed are general rules of love, and life. Age doesn't matter, neither does color or race or family background. Neruda's haunting proses trancsend everything because they express the universal emotions of people towards living, loving and losing, and everything in between.

I admire his works and I remember how as a young student I had the shameless dream of meeting him someday and being his protege. Of course I eventually found out after a trip to the library that he was, in fact, long gone. I also found out about the others aspects of his life, particularly his politics and principles which I didn't find agreeable. In the end, I remained a fan of Neruda, the poet, though not so much Neruda, the man.

I may not share his ideas towards capitalism or liberty, but I share his love for life and for love itself.

"Te amo sin saber cómo, ni cuándo, ni de dónde,
te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo:
así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera;"

I love you without knowing how, when, or where from;
I love you straightforwardly, with neither problems nor pride:
I love you thus, not knowing how to love you otherwise;`

(to be continued)
next Paul, Paulo, Pablo II

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"It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.”

— Aristotle