so writes neil gaiman as a post script to his july 11 journal entry, and perhaps to his philippine tour too.
i think it must have taken a herculean effort on his part to keep on smiling at 12 midnight when his hand must have seemed like a strange attachment to his wrist.
i was there at rockwell when he read an excerpt from anansi boys. i was there when he said that we make more noise than the brazilians, but are a little less mad. and i screamed along with the crowd for him to take off his shirt.
i was also at gateway yesterday to have a book signed. i witnessed several people walking on air after the signing. some were sobbing from sheer awe and joy, and some from frustration at having to line up from the fully booked store to aurora boulevard.
i got a little irritated that i only got to have 2 items signed when my pass guaranteed 4. the fact that the guy who took my picture took a sucky one didn't help any. (will still post it here though.) but i didn't complain. i didn't have to line up from the 3rd floor to the goddamned street.
the experience was well worth it. he's a nice guy, and he looks like a really yummy rockstar.
funny though. while i was having a book signed (all the while knowing he would not be averse to a hug and a smack) i made no move to go near him. just made idle talk to while away the time. i realized i was a fan of his creative mind, and that was just fine with me.
i left the place smiling and oddly sated.
thank you, neil. maybe someday you'll get more of that calamansi juice.