Years Juxtaposed

We, of the same blood, flesh and bones

I know I have promised a pretty decent post for you, dear brother. This isn’t it. I’d be writing too soon. I’ll end up romanticizing every little detail. That too, is the reason I won’t be providing too much text on this post. Separate photos will speak for themselves. Their juxtaposition will emanate more stories. This is so Art Studies I know, forgive me.

I will write about you when I’m out of my weightlessness. That. And I love you two.

I’d be Lying if I Tell you I Didn’t Want This to Coincide With Your Birthday

There might be an ocean of uncertainties right ahead of you, but it definitely makes beautiful sunsets and successful sails.

Today marks an event you’d never imagine would involve your life immensely. But changes do not happen overnight. That’s a fact. Reason why when I got home at the eve of your birthday hours ago, you were the same old kid (little sister) to me the past years.


I’d like you to peep through my microscope. This is not as technical as the usual thing, for this shows you the depths of my heart and allows unimaginable magnification of how it is to be Twenty. This is the first time, and may even be the last, I’d allow you to look through it. You may have never seen it this way but maybe one day you will.

You did not actually care what I was doing when I was twenty. All you knew was that we were sharing the same closet we had for years, we were having special dinners every weekend (because you stayed miles away from us for school), and that I occupied (and fixed) your room whenever I visit or stay in my soul’s sanctuary. All of these seemed normal to you; except for the last one which you never really mentioned to me, but I knew seemed extremely stupid to you.

You knew the reasons why I opted to do so. You witnessed the whole course. From travels, to reunions and finally that moment where all came to an end. You lacked the words able to comfort me. Instead, you pulled a string from your heart and tied the pearls and stones that were my tears. Maybe, that made you really think how stupid I was.

You knew another reason. I could call this place paradise and even replace Burnham’s bust with mine. You knew how I fell in love with the people, their way of life, the culture and it’s every little detail that I wanted unharmed (untouched even) and considered my own. I knew you understood me for this that I got you to come with me to unknown yet beautiful places.

There’s one more reason I am just uncertain of whether you have deliberated true or untrue. I was twenty when I became the epitome of “escapism”. I always tuck away the city’s noises via a five-hour trip to the mountains. That was when I read too many books (other than my school readings), written fragmented prose and poetry, and cried only for myself.

You haven’t seen it that way. You haven’t read me between the sighs and laughs we had together. But I see you, dear little sister, a lot like the person I was two years before. Although you were more of a daredevil than I was – a lot stronger, a lot experienced (you’ve got far more credits under your belt) but yes, still a lot careless. Be wary kid, take these few pointers from me, but life will teach you more. You’ve only been twenty for a few hours and there’s certainly a lot for you out there. There might be an ocean of uncertainties right ahead of you, but it definitely makes beautiful sunsets and successful sails.

I am not usually this nostalgic nor this preachy. I normally talk to you in some weird language only the two of us can understand. It sounds funny, but we are somehow already serious that way.

That, and a HAPPY 20th BIRTHDAY, my little Pau.