the girl who mirrored Florence
this project turns out to be actually harder than i estimated. I guess I suck at math in general. shit. It's hard to be a full time student, part time writer and manage 2 blogs. even harder when youre stuck with one lazyass roommate who refuses to clean the dorm even though she knows its her turn to do the chores and the place is filthy already. oops wrong blog, i shouldnt be writing this here.
I was thinking a week ago, Florence seems much farther now than it used to be. It almost appeared to be within reach 2 years ago because I actually was supposed to go there for my 18th birthday. Yet instead, I chose to celebrate my birthday with a big debut complete with all the candles, big dress and shiny escort. I also realized recently that I had never actually met someone who's been there. Well except for Jared, my dad's colossaly kind of a boss who told us wonderful stories about the place. He's the person whom I almost deem responsible for my being enamored with Florence.
Today I realize I was wrong. Wrong about not having met a person who's been there. It turns out, one good friend of mine has actually set foot on the Florentian grounds. Her eyes have witnessed everything I've seen through pictures. Her senses have perceived everything (or at least most things) I've only known in theory.
I call her by her first name, Keisha. My good friend who's also her boy friend calls her different names. keish, love, baby. and more terms of endearment I can no longer enumerate. Perhaps this is because almost automatically my mind shuts these terms out because they cause my body to cringe. When you think about their relationship, it's quite puzzling, how the guy is a hopeless romantic and the girl is more pragmatic. Yet they make it work, and they have fen or over two years now. Taken individually, it is puzzling. But fused together, they're a picture of a couple who express love in different almost opposing ways but true love just the same.
Keisha was bred in the US before her family moved to Guam and then to the Philippines. Her family moved a lot, but traveled even more. She's been to numerous beautiful countries, tasted various cultures and every once in a while, when you ask her to, she tells fond stories of these adventures. She shared to me that of all the places she's been to, she finds Paris, France the most captivating because the history is just so alive. ( I was wishing she'd say Florence but that's out of a lot of bias.)
And so she told me of a funny anecdote that transpired in the place of my fantasies. Her family was walking along the famed streets of the city and she was looking at the buildings and houses, admiring their architecture, and imagining what they had looked like when they were just newly built. She continued looking, her gaze shifting from one building to another when she suddenly saw a frame that stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the bricks. Contained in the frame were pairs of silicon boobs. Naturally she was surprised and quickly motioned to call her family until all of their eyes were directed at that one frame. For people who've seen numerous wonders, and beauties and eccentricities, it must take a lot for them to fixate themselves at one thing. And of all the possible things it could have been in those old streets, it was that frame with pairs of silicon boobs. Keisha thought to herself, " Yes, Florence is still making its legacy of art and thought."
My thoughts? Apparently I was wrong to think that Florence was an exception to the kinkiness that encompasses Italy. No offense to the Italians, but the Romans have brought it upon their people and their country altogether. They are equally known for both good food and eroticism.
Anyway. As I write this I thank God for ensuring that my path and Keisha's would meet, that this story be told to me during a time I needed to hear it the most. It allowed me to feel once again that Florence is tangible and pushed me to believe that one day soon, I will get there. And because of this story, I will make it a point to look for that weird frame.
I realized it's weird that this story enabled me to feel that Florence is more real.
Initially I was supposed to start this entry by saying: Today I met a real person who's been to my dreamland. I realize it's a good thing I didn't.
Keisha is a paradox. She's the girl of one guy's dreams and yet very real. Genuinely kind, and true to the core. And so I end my blog with how I ought to have started it: Today I met a real person. period.
I was thinking a week ago, Florence seems much farther now than it used to be. It almost appeared to be within reach 2 years ago because I actually was supposed to go there for my 18th birthday. Yet instead, I chose to celebrate my birthday with a big debut complete with all the candles, big dress and shiny escort. I also realized recently that I had never actually met someone who's been there. Well except for Jared, my dad's colossaly kind of a boss who told us wonderful stories about the place. He's the person whom I almost deem responsible for my being enamored with Florence.
Today I realize I was wrong. Wrong about not having met a person who's been there. It turns out, one good friend of mine has actually set foot on the Florentian grounds. Her eyes have witnessed everything I've seen through pictures. Her senses have perceived everything (or at least most things) I've only known in theory.
I call her by her first name, Keisha. My good friend who's also her boy friend calls her different names. keish, love, baby. and more terms of endearment I can no longer enumerate. Perhaps this is because almost automatically my mind shuts these terms out because they cause my body to cringe. When you think about their relationship, it's quite puzzling, how the guy is a hopeless romantic and the girl is more pragmatic. Yet they make it work, and they have fen or over two years now. Taken individually, it is puzzling. But fused together, they're a picture of a couple who express love in different almost opposing ways but true love just the same.
Keisha was bred in the US before her family moved to Guam and then to the Philippines. Her family moved a lot, but traveled even more. She's been to numerous beautiful countries, tasted various cultures and every once in a while, when you ask her to, she tells fond stories of these adventures. She shared to me that of all the places she's been to, she finds Paris, France the most captivating because the history is just so alive. ( I was wishing she'd say Florence but that's out of a lot of bias.)
And so she told me of a funny anecdote that transpired in the place of my fantasies. Her family was walking along the famed streets of the city and she was looking at the buildings and houses, admiring their architecture, and imagining what they had looked like when they were just newly built. She continued looking, her gaze shifting from one building to another when she suddenly saw a frame that stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the bricks. Contained in the frame were pairs of silicon boobs. Naturally she was surprised and quickly motioned to call her family until all of their eyes were directed at that one frame. For people who've seen numerous wonders, and beauties and eccentricities, it must take a lot for them to fixate themselves at one thing. And of all the possible things it could have been in those old streets, it was that frame with pairs of silicon boobs. Keisha thought to herself, " Yes, Florence is still making its legacy of art and thought."
My thoughts? Apparently I was wrong to think that Florence was an exception to the kinkiness that encompasses Italy. No offense to the Italians, but the Romans have brought it upon their people and their country altogether. They are equally known for both good food and eroticism.
Anyway. As I write this I thank God for ensuring that my path and Keisha's would meet, that this story be told to me during a time I needed to hear it the most. It allowed me to feel once again that Florence is tangible and pushed me to believe that one day soon, I will get there. And because of this story, I will make it a point to look for that weird frame.
I realized it's weird that this story enabled me to feel that Florence is more real.
Initially I was supposed to start this entry by saying: Today I met a real person who's been to my dreamland. I realize it's a good thing I didn't.
Keisha is a paradox. She's the girl of one guy's dreams and yet very real. Genuinely kind, and true to the core. And so I end my blog with how I ought to have started it: Today I met a real person. period.
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