Dear Tina,
If you are the other sputnik*, then that probably makes me the metaphysical sputnik, being that I'm vicariously exploring Visayas and Mindanao through you. It has been two weeks since you left for that trip, and almost a month now since we last saw each other.
Well, you might as well know that I've been doing a little exploring of my own, albeit less geographically and more in terms of the unexplored regions deep within my psyche. Well, during one of these onerous contemplations, and this is quite relevant to another exploration I'm planning to engage in within the next couple of weeks, I suddenly realized that you were particularly against my reaching out and rekindling my friendship with Jigs. What gives? And although your opinion in this matter would not necessarily change my mind, as I have been known, from time to time, to go against your wishes (I am Cam Barros, after all--disappointing friends since 1975), I still am curious enough to know the reason behind these recently voiced objection. Another addition then to the growing list of topics we are going to shred to unrecognizable pieces next time we meet.
One more thing, please remind me the next time to be careful with what I wish for. A few days ago, I was silently lamenting the fact that after Paul and I broke up, my life seems to be suffering from a remarkable dearth in drama. Cut to last night: My brother and I having a minor argument, which escalated to a point wherein he physically pushed me rather unnecessarily, thereby resulting to a potential death by aquarium episode. It was straight out of a scene from Wysteria Lane, wherein psycho-needs-to-enroll-in-an-anger-management- program older brother turns on younger brother over a very miniscule legal argument, it was almost hysterical. Well, I'm still reeling over the incident as much from its melodramatic aspect as to the fact that it happened over something so silly it might as well have been the Marco Sison song "My Love Will See You Through." Go figure.
Now the previous disclosure is only noteworthy in that it compelled one of my mini-orations to emerge from the filing cabinet. Worse, it may just have roused my recently-dormant desire to flee. So much so that joining you and Ron in the last leg of your trip is becoming an extremely attractive prospect. Only, I might just extend that to a couple of years short of a death sentence. As such, restlessness has returned like a solid ray of consciousness shooting through my body.
I miss you, Tina. Suddenly, two weeks seems like such a long time. Come back soon.
More anon. With love always.
_______________________________
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