It's the last day of May...

...and I still haven't been able to write the "last" poem of my collection, the one I theoretically want to end my book with. I've revised some old ones and even written one new draft, but I'm putting so much pressure on myself to end things with a bang that I can't seem to get it done yet. Maybe this has something to do with the end of summer (and the final episodes of Temptation Island, The Contender and American Idol---yes, I'm still a reality show junkie), and the closing down of my favorite Katipunan area restaurant Eyrie (goodbye hungarian sausage spaghetti and turon con caramel a la mode), and the beginning of June and the need to immerse myself in the rain amidst all things tinged with grayness ("Gray, then, was the only truth in the world." --Stephen Dunn) where shadows sometimes collide and find temporary shelter.

A paragraph from Auster's City of Glass:

Later perhaps I will do something else. After I am done being a poet. Sooner or later I will run out of words, you see. Everyone has just so many words inside him. And then where will I be? I think I would like to be a fireman after that. And after that a doctor. It makes no difference. The last thing I will be is a high-wire walker. When I am very old and have at last learned how to walk like other people. Then I will dance on the wire, and people will be amazed. Even little children. That is what I would like. To dance on the wire until I die.