it's officially bum season in our house!

this afternoon i got a little too comfortable watching cable movies in bed. it started with me being held up inside one cozy room due to an ally mcbeal episode rerun then it went on until i continued my quasi-marathon by letting myself be entertained by a six-year old flick entitled "you've got mail".

i remember being in my sophomore year in high when this romatic comedy was shown on the silverscreen. needless to say, it was a date movie hence, i really didn't get to see it in theatres. it would have really looked a tad too pathetic to go my friends. talk about rubbing it in.

meg ryan was in it as the bookshop owner named kathleen, who seems to have this intimate relationship with books. opposite her was tom hanks who filled in for the role of joe, the multi-millionnaire bookstore empire heir. i could narrate to you the plot but that wasn't really the thing that caught my attention.

books---it was the books. i have loved books ever since i was a young kid. whenever my nanay let me choose a reward for something i did great in (or just some present to feed my being a spoiled brat then), i had an awfully hard time choosing between books and toys. for a normal gradeschool boy, the options aren't of equal footing. who wouldn't pick snazzy transformers bots over bundled pieces of paper with scientific names of dinosaurs who lived in the jurrassic era? i could raise my hand.

you would think that i frequent public libraries---i don't. public libraries appeal to me like a checkered violet and yellow sweater with ice cream cone prints. enough said.

show me a bookstore and that's a different thing. i have all the markings of a typical bookworm. cast me away into a mall and the first thing i would look for in a directory (this directory consultation is geeky in its own right) is the damned book place. no clothes stores, no arcade centers, no food stops in my mind... just the bookstore.

there's something romantic about catching a book that you want and knowing that there's a possibility of it being yours. you immediately check the price and your temporary bliss is either hiked up or watered down. very much like looking for love... or the semblance of such act.

you see a book that you fall in love with. instantly you form a bond---a whirlwind affair with it, running your hands along its edges, unmindful or papercuts, flirting with your little laughs of satisfaction. you feel yourself being drawn to it with every passing second, dancing slowly like waves of opposing currents making passionate love just before they plummet into the island rocks. it becomes a part of you and unconsciously you plan of living everyday of your life with it. you turn the book over. you fall into sudden death---it can't be yours. it will never be yours. you know that no matter how much you emotion you pour and exhaust out, it can never be.

it is the end of something that will never be.

wait. am i still talking about a book?