EMPTINESS AND WHAT IT TEACHES

December 2, 2011. Friday

     around 7:30pm, I and Jayn were in a drinking pub along Villa beach. Drinking time again. 'FRIDAY' night is spelled 'REDHORSE' or 'ADIOS MOTHER FUCKER'. That's how self-proclaimed drunkards like us define it. We are not alcoholic, nonetheless. We just love the 'atmosphere' of drinking. There we can laugh like no tomorrow, we can talk about anything... from pubic hairs to public and social diseases. That's how long our conversations can reach. The tensile stress of our mouths is limitless. Laughter at its loudest. Time passes quickly.

I and Jayn

UNTIL we were suddenly silenced by our mutual mood at that time. 

The pub was noisy... with all the remixes that could tear the subwoofers of any speakers in no time, still we could hear ourselves. We could hear that soft voice telling us we were 'empty'-- that something was missing. Yes, for a second, Jayn and I stressed our tear ducts. 'Manang, I'd like to cry', she said. Not a jiffy after hearing it, I would like to burst into tears too. 'Daw ka empty', she added. I never thought she would say something like that because she was busy fanning herself with the menu board while flirting with the handsome waiter who was sitting next to our table.

Behind our strong and gleeful personae lies a hollow body which succumbs to the need to have someone who could simply send a morning text message that says 'I LOVE YOU'. This is just an example.We needed something beyond that. Someone to hold hands with while looking at the sunset. Jayn and I

realized we were 'single'----- For a long time. We moaned for something trivial. As trivial as having someone in mind when you wake up... as petty as looking forward to meeting someone after work.... as simple as having a boyfriend. 

We are not complaining for not having a partner.

We are worried that we might forget the feeling how to be in love. We feel EMPTY. What about emptiness anyway? Is there anything we can learn about it? I suppose there is. 

Read........

There’s a saying about bowls. It comes from an ancient text, but maybe it’s just as applicable today (bowls haven’t changed much in that time…).

It’s about the fact that the absence of bowl is just as important as its presence. That the emptiness inside it is crucial to its nature. The emptiness makes it possible – is its essence, in a way:

“Mould clay into a bowl.

The empty space makes it useful…”

       - Lao Tzu in the Tao Te Ching

Perhaps there’s something to learn here…

So often, when there’s emptiness around, especially when it’s an emptiness of the heart, it’s tempting to try to fill it.

To stuff it with comfort food.
Or fill it with distractions.
Or cover it over with the boards of boredom and looking-the-other-way.

Harder just to sit with it and let it simply inhabit you for a while, perhaps…

But if you automatically cram the emptiness full and evade the anxiety that it can bring, do you also bury the lessons that it can teach? 

Perhaps, a little like the bowl, emptiness is sometimes part of our essence?
Perhaps it’s important to be ‘blank’ for a while? Resting, before you move into the next phase of your life.

Which reminds me of another expression that I’ve heard wandering some artistic circles: “the creative void.”

A blank space between projects, the creative void can seem like a vortex of nothing at all, at first. It can look like writer’s block. Or the drying up of artistic impulse. Or an absence of anything ‘good’. It can be unnerving and even frightening.

But from it, eventually, new and rich creativity can spring. If it’s allowed to just be empty and do its mysterious work for a while…

So how does it feel when emptiness comes to visit you?

Do you find yourself reaching for something – anything – to fill it as soon as possible?

What might it be like just to sit with it for a moment?

TALK TO YOURSELF.

------ GOOD NIGHT ------

    

MY MONDAY AFTERNOON and the NUNS!

October 24, 2011.

A manic Monday for me. I worked for 8 hours again.

I started my 8 o'clock class by 'awarding' my student. I didn't give her an award for having an impressive output in writing, but rather I was taken aback by her lack of simple vocabulary and her lousy grammar construction. Then there went my non-stop claptrap.Well, yes, I forgot once again the reason why she's studying with me. I was supposed to be kind to her. Spoonfeeding is not my biz nonetheless. I go for inductive learning. Discover what's hidden. Discover the grammar structure and its purpose.

My 8 am class seems like a 4pm session. Only to my surprise that I know it's just 9 am and I still have 7 more hours to bear. Poor Leemuel.

My day ended with a writing class too. For the record, It's my first time in 6 years of ESL teaching to have 5 hours of writing classes in one day. Brain drain. From transposing dangling modifiers, correcting punctuation marks, strike off this, strike off that...,. Pahlllesseeee... but then again I come to think, I am a teacher. I should transfer the skills I have. Not a hard job, isn't it? Think again darling.

Around 5:30pm, as planned, I was on Baby Girl's high barber's chair waiting to have her cut my hair. After some trimming she did, voalah~! My hair was short again.

this is BB Girl

A little hungry and tired, Matmat, Jayn and I decided to eat something. As usual, we didn't argue that much for we complement each other when it comes to food. We eat almost anything. LOL. We ended up ordering 'Batchoy' in Deco's. Matmat got 'special' while Jayn and I had 'Extra Super'.

This is how we fill our hunger~

After some time, while we were enjoying our food, Jayn looked outside. With the foodshop walled in glass panels, we could clearly see passersby along the sidewalk.

What did she see?

How could you eat well when the scene outside where you eat is this?

.     A young boy. Half-naked, with sun-baked skin and  with hair clustering with dirt, sitting on the sidewalk with  a rather young baby boy wrapped in his arms. "Look!", Jayn muttered. I and Matmat also looked at them. We choked as the young boy looked at us with his eyes similar with those of a puppy coaxing his master to feed him.

There was silence. From our usual 'dinamuhal' (squabbles) , we were silenced by what we saw. We realized that while we were busy filling our stomachs, there, outside, a meter away from us, behind the glass wall, two young angels were starving. We felt uncomfortable. We had no magic nonetheless. We just couldn't recite a spell that could make a banquet appear in front of the two wretched innocents. We couldn't do anything but tell each other how bad we felt. A few minutes later, one of the women who were sitting adjacent to our table went outside carrying two pieces of 'pan de sal' in a plastic bag and gave them to the poor children who athirst for something to eat. Our hearts, in our silence and in our shared sentiments, salved from guilt. At least, there was someone who tried. After a few moments, an older man with his son sitting at the back of our table, called a waiter and asked him to bring the two boys a bowlful of 'Batchoy' which was supposed to be their take home delight. We felt relieved again. We felt sad nonetheless. Jayn said, "If only we had heaps of money." With her tears welling in her eyes, she sighed. Yes, "If only we had lots of money, we wouldn't be just looking at them." I echoed.

In the middle of discussing about life miseries, two nuns who were crossing  the street caught our attention. As they were approaching to the spot where the too pitiful boys loomed while feeding themselves with the food given to them, the three of us said, "Let's see how those nuns react when they see the boys."

 Yes, the nuns were dressed in their 'casual' attire perhaps, they were not wearing the usual habit and  a wimple...  (because they didn't look like penguins) They were just wearing a shift dress in gray color and a veil. they were off for shopping perhaps.

 --------- THEY IGNORED WHAT THEY SAW ----------

wHY not point it on your forehead?!

They almost stepped on them. They merely looked at them and marched their way on. In our minds we said "mga wala huya:" [shameless]. How could they just ignore those boys?

I had nothing against nuns, priests or any religious leaders, but for what we saw, a clear picture of hypocrisy slapped my soft face. Those people would usually talk about helping others, sacrificing for others, talking about selflessness. They might have turned their backs on the worldly passion, yet they have catapulted themselves into the pillar of lip service. I am not generalizing them. I can never quantify who really FOLLOW their calling and who are those who just stay in the convent for pleasure and be freed from household and family burdens. Hay nakow~~~~~~~  [ that's why i can never blame anyone who never believes in true religion]  pweh!

With what we witnessed, the three of us talked about the reasons why there are  a lot of  Filipino children left suffering. Who is to blame? The parents? For sure. They have the biggest contribution to the plight of their families. Poor families creating poorer families. Unless at least one or two of the family members exercise effort to meliorate the quality of their living, they'll all die poor, and certainly they're just guilty. 

With the RH Bill as one of the pressing issues in the country, I guess it's high time a solid decision be made by the concerned authorities to somehow answer this problem the country is facing. 

What is RH Bill for anyway? Many Filipinos don’t give a damn regarding the issue mainly because anyone can easily get contraceptives from your nearest 7-11, Watson's or Mercury Drug store. That's how they understand this. RH Bill is all about contraceptives they say.  Come on! This is to promote information on and access to both natural and modern family planning methods, which are medically safe and legally permissible. It assures an enabling environment where women and couples have the freedom of informed choice on the mode of family planning they want to adopt based on their needs, personal convictions and religious beliefs.

>HAVE PITY ON YOUR CHILDREN. BE RESPONSIBLE.

I WOULD HATE TO SEE WHAT I SAW. PLEASE.

good night~!

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Prostitutes and Whatever There Is To Hash out~

September 16, 2011

L-R : I, Jayn, Mommy, Lesli Kay, Matmat (with K at the back)

L-R: Shayne, Leslie Kay, I, Jayn (at the back), Matmat

JAYN WAS ABSENT. T.T

Leslie Kay too was absent in the afternoon.

How SAD.

(now, it's 9:13pm and I'm damn bored... there's something wrong with my phone perhaps.... I only received exactly 8 messages today. 2smartload, 2 from Mommy, 1 from Matmat, 2 from Jayn, 1 from Yohann...

and a phone call  from Jayn which roughly lasted for 10 minutes.

Here it goes...

------------------

4:50pm

Just 10 minutes before 5 o'clock but I'm off from work. This is not considered 'under time' when you are working at a language center, for  us, ESL instructors, we transfer our skills to the English idiots day by day, 50 minutes each session. Get it? Okay... so much on this, our free car pool was waiting to send us all home. 

5:45pm

Matmat and I reached Robinsons Mall. We dashed our way to Mr. Quickie to have her brother's shoes done. We left them there and we went directly to Afriques' and had our dinner. We feasted on overcooked Pasta el pesto and Chicken in a basket which was was slightly salty, the batter was crispy and a little half-cooked on the inside... LOL daw peach mango pie lang?!

Disappointed, we left no tip.

6:30pm

The escalator going up didn't work, so we had no choice but march our way up to the third floor of the mall and had refreshing iced tea in Chaiz' cafe. Puffed some sticks of  green/mentholated lung'ticide' (I need not advertise here.. duh), and played 'Jewel quest' on my phone as we waited for the shoes to be done.

7:20pm

We returned to Mr. Quickie and got the newly-shined shoes. They were as good as new. Matmat paid for them for only 50 pesos. Satisfying indeed. Next stop was 'Mr. Labada'. We returned for some dry-cleaned garments.

We hired a taxi to go home.

AND NOW MY POINT....

As our taxi traversed through Delgado street, a small house turned into a whorehouse (according to what I heard) gleaming with its hot pink neon light on the doorway caught my prying eyes. I sounded, "Shudafugs, bonggit nhe (Matmat)! ang babaylan sa sulod ho.... Jeya waitaloo sa customer kyor! Jeya temprano pa ma sikangkang! Hahahahaha" !(@#$%, the girl inside is waiting for her customer as early as now.) 

That scene passed, or we were the ones who drove past that scene. Either way, the thought about prostitution suddenly made me wonder. I voicelessly imagined being a "prosti." I tittered. I envisaged being in the prostitute's position. Would I make more money as I enjoy having sex with a stranger? Should I let myself frisked, mutilated, banged for tuition fee?

I don't pity them. I somehow understand why they have to do it. Can they still escape that 'degrading' situation? Some of them may just be college or high school students who lack money for good education.

In our dialect, we call someone 'Alpot', 'Bigatlan' when we mean 'Hooker', 'Bitch' or 'Sex worker', or Someone who enjoys having sex just for the fun it. We somehow forget that we unconsciously call even our dear friends with those terms, nonetheless. Yet it's for fun and no offense meant.

If someone says "Lee Alpot", even on FBchat as a way of saying 'Hi Lee!', it is just as good as them praising me for I think 'ang haba ng hair ko' or something like, 'I'm a bitch'. 'I'm in'. Snap snap.

Well, to justify my claim that society’s definition of prostitution is superficial, we must take a glimpse at the way by which it (by “it” I mean the society) judges things . In a society, there are sets of rules by which people abide. Those rules of course, are the bases for judging what things, or actions are defined as right or wrong, what’s moral or immoral. To separate what’s right from its opposite, a certain society takes into consideration at least two aspects; which are, first, religion (which is more widely used as it seems to be more consistent) and second, human instincts. The former, as I have mentioned, is more depended on simply because, through it, people are more simplified.

In any religion, followers are asked to follow their god’s teachings, practically for their own good. Religion is also the basis for discriminating immoral from moral. Take Catholicism as an example. We have the Ten Commandments that we are supposed to be wary of every day that we are alive. Relatively, a lot of people do give importance to the commandments. But why are we actually supposed to follow those ten rules? The answer to that is the same answer to the question why there are rules set in a society. There is a need for order. People within a certain community or what have you are supposed to live together harmoniously. That’s what the Holy Bible of Catholics say too. In essence, through religious rules, people get generalized. As such, society makes use of those rules to ensure that social order remains relatively intact. For, if human instincts are to be followed, things will just go crazy. That’s because humans seem to have a need to be individuals, and not just people. Which, in retrospect, brings us back to religion yet again. Individualism is, to a certain extent, erased through religious rules. That being so, society then incorporates these rules to keep society nice and pretty.   

Now that I have delved too much into society and religion, I’ll have to go back to my main topic. Prostitution. When that word is heard, people basically think that those who practice it are sinners; individuals who go against God and society. Being that they are sinners, they are considered immoral. But more than what society thinks of prostitutes, we must give more importance to how prostitutes regard their profession. Which is exactly my point. Prostitutes regard prostitution as a profession. And rightfully so, because, in all sense, they experience the exact same things that any ordinary “decent” employee goes through. They get tired from too much work. They treat customers as objectively as possible. They retire too, when old age sets in.

Hookers, gigolos and the like sell their bodies to acquire money, or anything equivalent to it. Or simply put, to make a living. In that sense, they are no different from anyone who works for money. Say, a bank executive, a teacher, or even a nun. In my opinion, prostitutes work also for the convenience of their clients and themselves. And that’s also exactly what employees or any moral person who works for money does. In essence, anyone who uses him self as a tool to acquire money is a prostitute. Only that, prostitutes and what they do are considered immoral, because they go against the flow, while professionals, jeepney drivers, et cetera are esteemed and regarded well because they are moral i.e. they stick with some social rules.

Come to think of it then, social morality is just a state of mind. It’s just there to keep a certain social order in place. However, in any society, there are those “groups of few” who go against the rules, like prostitutes. Simply put, the only thing that separates a businessman from a hoe is an impalpable social concept called morality. But are we sure that those moral people are really moral? Let me ask these then. How moralistic are employees who drown themselves in booze every weekend, or solicit sex in nightclubs or gay bars? How upright are call center agents who commit slow suicide by smoking every time they take their two 15-minute breaks and lunch, not to mention that they also mindlessly pollute the environment? How respectable are public servants who sit on their asses daily, doing nothing to better their country, while deliberately misusing public funds? Can lawyers be considered moral when they lie to get paid?

To call prostitutes as so is to excuse ourselves from our own immorality. Sure. Professionals are regarded well but only because society is biased and full of pretense. Social order is tantamount to hypocrisy. Isn’t hypocrisy immoral?

How moral are we when we do exactly what prostitutes do? As far as I can see, prostitutes are better than most of us. To say the least, they are honest. And compared to politicians, they know better who they need to serve. 

You, Do you know whom you serve?

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Rain, coffee, and tea...

September 7, 2011 (8:44pm)

my mind is like an empty street...

It's raining again.

After 8 hours of talking to and prodding students to learn the language they're dying to be fluent in, here I am, stranded in a coffee shop with my friends. Talk is cheap as what they say but coffee and tea are not. No choice, got to sip my iced jasmine tea, waiting for the rain to stop.

May Grace and Jayn

I and Shayne

Winner! Leslie Kay

My Family

As they are busy hogging their cellphones for games and all, here I am, in trance with my passion to exude what I have been thinking about since I woke up this morning.

MY HEART IS PALPITATING.

I don't know whether I really have a heart problem or I have a problem with my heart... I mean, emotionally.

YES. I suppose I have both. I need a cardiologist and someone who could save this ailing heart of mine. Where are you?

Too much drinking and a little too complicated relationships  could be the reasons why I'm feeling this now. Am I too overly dramatic? Or just an unlucky player who never knows who's bluffing and who's not. I might as well enjoy what is there that's happening.




>>>>press rewind.


RECURRENCE.

     "Like a benign tumor, being lied to can no longer infect me. I may let any lie pass but I may not forget."

---------------------------------------------

You lost me.....

*This goes to anyone who chose to let go and  chose to be safe enough not to get drowned in a quicksand of STUPID and Selfish irrationality...

and i say...

We cannot beg someone to stay if they want to leave and be with someone else. BANG! We have to admit that love doesn't give us the license to own a person.

This is what love means… sacrifice.

It's 'human' enough to be suffering after letting go of someone whom you love(d) and thought you would love for the rest of your life. You may have given more than what the other has given you. You may have cried more for the pricking instances that almost made you numb because of the overflowing love for the other. You must have been stupid. You must have been giving. You must have been a person who loved truly. You were just you, or you were just blinded by the idea that true love can shy away and conquer everything that poisons the relationship...

We beg. It's normal. We ask them to stay, even if, even though,even when, although we know we look like a street cat coaxing  anyone who passes by. Truth is, we get 'kicked'... tsk tsk... only then we realize that begging them to stay is like asking mercy from heaven's gate and no one is looking down. Painful, isn't it?

Get a mirror. Look at yourself. Do you like 'YOU'? Do you like what you see? Darling, you are not a drama queen nor king, are you?

Stand up. Appraise yourself. Smell the STARBUCKS!

Deep in your heart, I know you are suffering, knowing that you lost that person. On the outside, you are living, pretending that you have already forgotten him (i'll just use 'him' okzzz? daw kanami lang.. this blog entry isn't gender sensitive anyway... LMAO) ... Wait... has it been years now??? It isn't yet. Therefore, forgetting is equated to pretending.. so it's fine. Let that person linger in your mind still. It isn't easy to just press 'delete' or hit the (X) icon... Remember, you are human. LOL.

This is true:

You were falling in love, but now, you are only falling apart. Nonetheless, you will never know true happiness,until you have truly loved, and you will never understand what pain really is, until you have lost it.

And these are what you ought to do. (super advise?)

Forget the times he walked by, forget the times he glanced at you and winked... Forget the times he tucked your hair behind your ears... (kun la ka buhok... teh.. imagine lang..)

Forget the times he made you cry or worse, faint.

Forget the times he spoke your name in its sweeeeteeesttt and in the most cheesy tone.,

Remember now You’re not the same. You are broken. Accept it. Never deny it. Because when you do, you are one hell of a rock!

And because you are broken, never let that person touch you. You are just posing danger to him. OR~~~ he won't touch you anyway... knowing that you still have those knife-like edges... TALUM!

Forget the times he held your hand for he is touching someone's now, forget the sweet things if you can, because it has turned sour now. Accept your lack of control. No matter how “good”, smart, helpful, giving, or sexy you are, you can’t control whether other people want to stay in a relationship with you. It's them, NOT you.

GOODBYES ARE REALLY GOODBYES! POTAH! lol...

AS what Gwyneth Paltrow said,

“The best way to mend a broken heart is time and girlfriends (or boyfriends for that matter)”

        

WATCH AND LISTEN TO THESE:

You Lost Me (Christina Aguilera)
Jar of Hearts (Christina Perri)

goodnight~

__________________________________________

COME AND SEE ME INSTEAD...

Where are you?

There have been a lot of questions flowing freely on my mind.. One of which is the most common among people who feel unloved due to the absence of a partner; “Where are you my soul mate?”  Duh… I don’t think soul mates   exist – or I am just too skeptical not to believe in it  for I’m bitter. 

Drop it.

After experiencing  and tasting the sweetest, the strangest, the boldest and the most painful love affairs with numerous bullshits, I have come to realize, there isn’t anyone who could fit my sides. I might be a polygon.

A polygon. With many sides.

Now, I'm single and have been so for quite a long time. Well, a month is already long for me for that matter. NOOOO…  LOL. I’m not counting those past love bullshit-affairs I had. They’re all ego-crushing… and the people involved. As what I was told, “You were happy, though.”  Yes, I was, yet short-lived. Even so, OKAY NA RIN.

Am I happy? [no one can answer me… I mean, you can; nonetheless, you might not know what or how I really feel.]

Growing old and growing up are rather different things. Have I grown up? In what sense? Have I grown old? It can be delayed. Haha. For the past years, my life has been so eventful except for my stagnant career. I have been too scared to put my feet in the water and try something new. Something fresh. Plans made, some fulfilled, most not. It’s been years of going inward to sort out all the internal turmoil that was eating up my soul. Now I think, relationships are not really compatible with this process, as they tend to put a lot of focus on accommodating to the partner's needs - which can be difficult when you don't know what your own are (where do you think arguments in relationships start?). However, with most of my problems now being worked through, it's time to move my perspective outward.

With gorgeous and happy friends around me, at work, outside, at the dining tables, all the pasta delights and lunch break buzz, my life becomes full and very satisfying and everything seems to be going the right way. Yet there are times I feel  as if I were at a cross-roads, a rough, depressing landscape behind me and roads of opportunity shooting in all directions ahead of me into the place where my potential will  unfold. What I do as a language teacher is deepening. I’m able to relate to individuals….to the not so brainy ones and  to the bright ones. Moreover, I'm becoming ever more passionate, seeing opportunities all around, warming up to the idea of discovering ever more facets of truth about myself and the world around me.

YES.

What's around me looks beautiful - the air is crisp and the sun high in the sky - and there's no one here to see it with me. Truth is, I'm lonely sometimes.

SIGH.

And the questions just start piling up - am I too picky? Am I not looking in the right places? Don't I go out that enough? Am I too weird? Do I give too much of myself too early? Should I try Internet dating? [promise… I haven’t done this. LOL....] Do I need to be more promiscuous and less idealistic? Do I need to drop my idea of One Love?

Maybe or maybe not. As for being picky, if I have to "lower my standards" to the point that I get together with someone altogether unattractive (speaking not only physically) just for the sake of coupling up, I'd rather be single! But I'm not meant to be - not at this stage in my life. And that has little to do with the expectation of society (which labels you a loser if you haven't got it all figured out by thirty - what a loser society), this is my need.

So where are you, love? Where are you, kindred spirit? I'm looking for you - and you, I bet, are looking for me - waiting to dance the dance of Eternity, together as mere reflections of the divine.

Don't worry, I'll see you soon. OR YOU SEE ME INSTEAD.

good night!

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MY SUPER GOOD FRIDAY!~

As an employee, working for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, a 4-day vacation is long enough to recuperate energy lost. Yes, the Holy week this year was well-disposed to people like me. Like the most, I also wanted to go somewhere, take a trip or be ‘holy’ in any case. Well I guess traveling might not make you as holy as you could be, but somehow it could help you reflect and repent (??? How???)… just a thought. This is how I do it. I can’t think for myself at home anyway. With facebook and movie files??? How can I?

drinking on A gOOD friday~! thanks to you!

Quaffing  a bottle of beer, (at the moment I’m typing this text), I realized that this is the first time, in my 27 years, (ignoring the earliest years) that I wanted to get plastered on a GOOd Friday. Forgive me, but I can’t help it.

The reason?

I AM DISAPPOINTED.

I was hoping to go somewhere with someone dear to me, but didn’t. Instead, I spent  my time wallowing in bed, which I have always wanted to do. I didn’t even bother to open the bible nor go to church. I felt like I was a very bad person.

Then I realized to think. Pressed rewind. I saw images of my past. Happy times with friends and boyfriends. Break-ups, goodbyes and all the ‘shits’. I felt very old. Fagged. I put my left hand on my left chest. Felt my hear beat, and asked, “Aren’t you tired yet?”. “How many times have they punctured you?” No answer.

If my heart could just talk, it would bawl at me. It would complain about being neglected. It would complain about getting hurt most of the time. It would punch me right on the face if it had a fist.

BREATHE.

I TURNED OFF MY PHONE. What a relief! I wasn’t able to receive unappealing messages. Messages that read “Delete my number!”  “Bye”… Why do some people find it easy as breathing hurting other people? I am sensitive. Sane.

REINCARNATION.

Yes. I believe in reincarnation, but not the changing into another form or rebirth. I believe it in a different sense. (who the hell cares about what I’m believing in, ayt?!) It is like being in a relationship with one person to another. Next one after the ‘ex’. Finding the perfect one. In a matter of days, a week perhaps or let it die in a minute and get another one. That easy.

I AM NOT BAD.

I like being good most of the time. I am sweet, but when I turn sour, you might as well like the ‘pickled’ me. Not the drunk one, but the sour one.

Good night~!

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