The light seemed to me more beautiful. It had grown more dazzling and more attractive. I know why the moth circled the flame.
- The Moth and the Lamp
Like the little moth in the fable I have always been drawn to the warm glow of a candle light.
I find the candle’s flicker magical. It can turn a tiny room into an enchanting space, drowning any sound around and making me tune out as I gaze at it.
Its golden flame inspires a certain emotion that drives me to write. It could be a poem, a sentiment over a crush, an account of a fun-filled day or just anything depending on what mood I was in.
Back in the days when I used to keep a diary, most of the entries in that little book of secrets were written in my candle lit room.
One evening I was so desperate to write about my high hopes in seeing my crush again. His face and name I could no longer recall - wiped out, perhaps, by the unfortunate event that followed.
I can remember though how unwavering my need was for a romantic feel that night but I was out of candle!
A fluorescent lit room just couldn’t supply the air of romance I find necessary for me to write.
That night I settled for an improvised kerosene lamp or more popularly known as “gasera” made out of Chiz Whiz jar with an old cloth for a wick.
I placed the lamp in the table beside my bed which I accidentally shoved.
What seconds ago passed as a romantic ambiance for my standard because of the golden glow produced by the lamp sans the black fumes that comes with it turned into an inferno in the blink of an eye, my bed was on fire!
I was reminded of the moth that burned in the fable.
A combination of quick-wits and adrenaline spared a three-door apartment from what could have been a huge fire. It also saved my ass from a lifetime of shame and regret from my stupidity.
From Meg Ryan's character in You've Got Mail I shifted character to Lara Croft and I was able to turn the top mattress of the old king-size Salem bed my parents have given me to go with my own room without any difficulty putting off the fire instantly.
That disastrous night was the eve of my second semester in my freshmen year in college.
And as fate would have it, the other casualty aside from my mattress was no less than my COE.
Yes, the certificate of enrollment which I have to present to all my professors in all my classes on the first day of school was unfortunately in the same table as the “magic lamp”.
Laughter was all i could remember of that day. Repeatedly I had to recount what happened and every time my professor would raise my burned COE for everyone to see.
But, hey, i'm not complaining for unlike the little moth, i lived to share my tale.
And now i could only laugh at this event in my funny if not dramatic life!.
I find the candle’s flicker magical. It can turn a tiny room into an enchanting space, drowning any sound around and making me tune out as I gaze at it.
Its golden flame inspires a certain emotion that drives me to write. It could be a poem, a sentiment over a crush, an account of a fun-filled day or just anything depending on what mood I was in.
Back in the days when I used to keep a diary, most of the entries in that little book of secrets were written in my candle lit room.
One evening I was so desperate to write about my high hopes in seeing my crush again. His face and name I could no longer recall - wiped out, perhaps, by the unfortunate event that followed.
I can remember though how unwavering my need was for a romantic feel that night but I was out of candle!
A fluorescent lit room just couldn’t supply the air of romance I find necessary for me to write.
That night I settled for an improvised kerosene lamp or more popularly known as “gasera” made out of Chiz Whiz jar with an old cloth for a wick.
I placed the lamp in the table beside my bed which I accidentally shoved.
What seconds ago passed as a romantic ambiance for my standard because of the golden glow produced by the lamp sans the black fumes that comes with it turned into an inferno in the blink of an eye, my bed was on fire!
I was reminded of the moth that burned in the fable.
A combination of quick-wits and adrenaline spared a three-door apartment from what could have been a huge fire. It also saved my ass from a lifetime of shame and regret from my stupidity.
From Meg Ryan's character in You've Got Mail I shifted character to Lara Croft and I was able to turn the top mattress of the old king-size Salem bed my parents have given me to go with my own room without any difficulty putting off the fire instantly.
That disastrous night was the eve of my second semester in my freshmen year in college.
And as fate would have it, the other casualty aside from my mattress was no less than my COE.
Yes, the certificate of enrollment which I have to present to all my professors in all my classes on the first day of school was unfortunately in the same table as the “magic lamp”.
Laughter was all i could remember of that day. Repeatedly I had to recount what happened and every time my professor would raise my burned COE for everyone to see.
But, hey, i'm not complaining for unlike the little moth, i lived to share my tale.
And now i could only laugh at this event in my funny if not dramatic life!.