State Of The Nation

1. I left my first company.

I started out as an agent, and spent my last few months with the company as a trainer. Pictured above are cards with messages on them, which my co-trainers gave me on my last day (I think). I had some great times with them, and a handful of the consultants in my department have become more or less my family during my brief stay as a barely-competent but highly-praised shoe-in. Not everybody liked me, sure, but I came to terms with it eventually. I think I made good progress. One reason why I’ll probably never forget that time in my life.

But it was a sad time, so I’ll leave out most of the details for now. I’ll tell you all about it when I have more resources, i.e. time, silence, emotional clarity, and nothing to do.

Bottom line: I felt it was time to get going. So I went.

2. I now work with another company.

One of the main reasons I quit my previous company was that I felt like I needed a break. I was working 12-hour shifts, I was working when I got home, I was working during the weekends. And the hours I had to spend in the office felt like a battle every damn day. You could argue that I couldn’t have expected it to be a walk in the park—it’s a supervisorial role, for cryin’ out loud. Tough going for a 21-year-old brat who’s never had a job before and led a mostly sheltered existence. So I quit.

People were shocked, and of course they wanted reasons.  So of course, I said I wanted to rest for a while. That was far from the main reason, but it was a reason at least. I said I wanted to sit around for a while, think about the decisions I’ve made and how I wanted my life to play out from then on, and maybe watch TV shows and read books while I’m at it. Basically I wanted to act my age again, even for a little while, before jumping back into the cage. That much was true. I’ll lie low for a month, I told them.

Not even two weeks later, I chatted with a friend and former colleague on Facebook. She mentioned that she was currently bumming but had plans to apply to a certain company. I’ve heard about them before, mainly because of their insane pay package (and for a non-managerial post too, might I add) and the somewhat unique job description—making real-time phone call captions for the hard-of-hearing. I barely thought about working for them when I first heard of them, despite the pay. I found it shady that I didn’t know the company, and that nobody else in my immediate circle seemed to. But then it popped up in this conversation with said friend, at a time when I was jobless. Figuring there shouldn’t be any harm in trying, I applied the very next day. And I got in.

Well, sort of. But I’ll elaborate some other time.

I’ve been working here for nearly a month now. I’ve been paid once since I started, and it was pro-rated since my wave started a few days into the cutoff—but it was still more than any single paycheck I’ve ever had. My friend didn’t make the cut for the account, but she works in the same company so at least I have someone I know here. It’s been an odd month, and a lot of my issues have come out due to the changes, and the people. It’s mostly the latter, and has something to do with my angry dumb brain, and my hormones. I’ll tell you about them some time.

For now, I’m being paid a moderately insane amount of cash for a unique and monotonous job (that my mind has wanted for a long time now) which I applied for on a whim. Can’t say I’m doing too bad, I guess. It’s also a long ways away from my area, so I get to travel and explore a little bit—I’m no Bear Grylls but I like to walk unfamiliar streets every once in a while. So there’s that, too.

By the way, I took that photo up there in one of the company CRs. I just wanted to show you how shitty-looking we’re allowed to be at work. And I gotta tell you, it is highly appreciated.

3. I got a haircut, and also wear glasses now.

In case you couldn’t tell from the photo above, here’s another photo:

And another one, because why not?

I’ve been planning to get a haircut for a while now. Having to tie it up every morning and redo it every few hours was starting to get tedious. I also figured that if I was going to let my madman hair go loose, I might as well get it dyed to reduce the eyesore. So I did. As usual, it looked okay when I was in the salon, but since then it’s gone back to being a clusterfuck. I still pin some portions back with a barette or a butterfly clip, but for the most part I’m okay with the mess. Kinda looks like art. Ha, ha.

I got my glasses in Manila, and they’re for astigmatism. They make me dizzy, kinda like Manila does, except I like Manila dizziness. On the bright side, I think they go well with my hair somewhat.

Speaking of Manila..

4. I met the Berlin Wall, and the Spolarium (for the second time).

I was starting to get antsy in my city due to aforementioned-but-unelaborated life-change issues, so in a very rare moment of thoughtless wanderlust I decided to go to Baguio. There wouldn’t be much for me to do there, seeing as how most of my batchmates had already graduated. My college mate who’s been staying down here went home for the week, though, so I figured maybe I could chill with her. She’s pretty cool and doesn’t trip my antisocial alarms, so she was a safe bet. And if not, I could just meditate and get lost. That was the original plan, anyway.

But in another rare moment of whatever-it-was, I decided to ask my friend go with me. Her parents usually won’t allow her, but she said yes and so in a matter of hours we were all set. We were really excited since we’ve been planning to go there together for Ages.

But (a lot of buts in this particular part of the entry) fate wouldn’t have any of it, so later on in the day we find out that there’s a HUGE storm and that the people of Baguio have been stitching nets into the mountainface to prevent landslides. They were expecting the rain to be so bad they were literally sewing the soil onto the mountain. That pretty much put the fire out for us, so my friend just slept over.

The next day was a Sunday, so we decided we shouldn’t let the day go to waste. That was when my friend mentioned that a chunk of the Berlin Wall was on display at the National Museum. If I had any misgivings before that, I lost them immediately. And so it was that when the lashing winds and rains let up a little, we hopped into a shuttle bound for Manila.

First we went to see the Spolarium, since you simply can’t NOT look at Spolarium when you visit the National Museum. You need to pay your respects. And also because my friend currently has a thing with Philippine history and our national heroes, specifically those involved in the blockbuster history “biopic” Heneral Luna. I saw the painting the last time I was there, and she’s seen it countless times before. Still, its grandiose presence never fails to to mesmerize us.

Then we went to the next building, and made a few detours into the different displays within the wing—mostly artefacts and dioramas, all interesting and insanely detailed. Then we went straight to the Marble Hall, where Section 22 of the Berlin Wall stood before us.

POMELO_20151018155833_fast POMELO_20151018160120_fast

I was swept away. I looked at it and it looked at me. And as I stood there, as odd as it may sound, I felt like I was in a different place, in a different time, among different people. I was flooded with feelings I had long since tamped down for fear of being considered impractical and too idealistic. I was overwhelmed by this piece of history standing right in front of me, and I was at a loss for words.

You could say, “hey, you’re in a museum. Museums tend to have things like that, you know. What’s the fuss about?” And you know what, you are absolutely right. Each and every single shred of wood and shell and paint in all the museums in the world hold meaning, memories, and history in each fiber of their composition. And all of them deserve to be relived and experienced by everyone. But I don’t know how to explain it. I didn’t know much about the Berlin Wall, I’ll have to admit. Before I got to read the stuff on the wall I didn’t even know what exactly it was for. But I knew it had seen things I couldn’t even dream up, and that thought stood like behemoths all around this chunk of concrete, standing before us like a mighty, knowing creature. And when I learned that it once stood between people of a single nation, dividing them, one face alive and colourful and another bland and cold—and knowing that that wall has now been taken down and brought here, man. It almost brought tears to my eyes, knowing that something this meaningful is in front of me.

So I did what any person would, and took photos. I’m a shitbag like that.

The man guarding the wall had noticed our interest and shared some information, mainly about how long the wall is going to be on display here before it’s moved to Rizal park. He said he thought that was better, so that the people outside can see that whatever divides can and does come down. I smiled at that.

It was a very humbling experience, I can tell you that. Right up there with the first time I got to listen to a vinyl record, and that time I saw a meteor shower back in college. Call me sappy, but I’ll probably keep that moment with me for a long long time.

5. I’ve been buying books again.

I bought these from Underground in Manila. I was only supposed to get Irvine Welsh’s Trainspotting because tehnically that was the only thing I reserved.. And I wasn’t even supposed to get that because I’ve only ever been to that bookshop ONCE, and I had a friend with me. This time I had to go alone, and I almost noped the fuck out. In fact I did nope out for a few days, if it wasn’t for the Facebook page’s owner calling me out in the comments section (politely, though) after a few days have passed and I hadn’t confirmed anything. I decided that I had to man the fuck up; hell, I’ve been a trainer, I’ve been through scarier shit.

So with a little help from my Manila-familiar friends, I hopped into an FX bound for Buendia and asked the driver to kindly drop me off at City Hall.

Guess what? He didn’t.

So I got a bit lost, and after some loosely-masked frantic PMs to my Manila friend, I saw a street sign saying Kalaw, and a jeep bound for City Hall. In an instant I knew where I was and how to get myself un-lost. And when I got to the shop, of course, instead of just picking up the book I wanted, I went ahead and picked up more. I have no regrets.

The bookkeeper, Iris was his name I think? He was the same guy in the shop the first time I was there. He was busy then, and he only had time for a few suggestions in between rearranging books and stacks of books with his gloved hands. He struck me as eccentric (of course, running a shop like that in the middle of the Lagusnilad underpass, you couldn’t be anything but), but I never got to talk to him in length.

This time, though, he engaged me in this conversation about why people only ever seem to read the books that everyone else does, and I was quite surprised. He also asked me what I was reading right now, what I liked reading, and what my opinions on certain authors like Charles Bukowski and Murakami were. For the most part I was dumb as a cucumber, but he didn’t seem to mind. Afterwards, he even told me to leave titles on their wall so he can look for them for me. He was really nice.

I haven’t been this happy about venturing out of my comfort zone in a while. It was refreshing. And also, BOOKS!!!!!1

6. Not so new news: I now have a smartphone? Yeah.

I don’t know how I could have missed telling you this. Hell I was blogging straight off of this damn phone. Anyway, I bought it for myself on my last birthday, seeing as how I had already lost two phones(!) within the year. I wanted to get a cheap phone because 1) I still did not have enough money for the phone of my dreams, i.e. Xiaomi Mi3 (and also I couldn’t find stocks anywhere in that damn mall), and 2) I just got my phone fucking stolen, am I really gonna replace it with something more expensive?

Well, the answer to the second question is yes. I bought an Asus Zenfone 5 with my own, hard-earned cash. By this time the Zenfone 2 had already come out, so a lot of people asked me if I bought it and, upon finding out that I didn’t, would ask why not. I dodn’t really have a reason—there was a version of the Zenfone 2 that was still well within my budget, and it was the newer model that can basically do what the Zenfone 5 can and more, so what gives? I dunno. Maybe I just figured that I didn’t really need the latest model, and this was a few thousand bucks cheaper, so I took the one that would save me money and still meet my needs. I did a little research before buyin the phone, of course, so I know it’s pretty damn decent for its price. So far it has been meeting my expectations quite well.

So since I can’t really take a photo of my phone using my phone, here’s a screenshot of my lockscreen. I dunno, go figure

7. It was Joche’s 2nd birthday last Saturday.

Happy birthday, buddy. I coulsn’t ask for a better friend. I’m glad you’re still with me after two years, and I get to spend more time talking to you and doodling shit and showing you off to the people I care about. Sorry if I abuse you sometimes, and whenever I don’t talk to you for weeks, months on end. That’s also partly why you’re still with me: I barely have anything to say anymore. Or at least, none that I think would deserve a space in your pages.

I’m so grateful I have you. Humans can be so volatile—I should know. So thanks. Here’s to more doodles and shitty feelings!

Anyway, I guess that’s it for now. I’ve been itching to write this post for literally days now, but I keep falling asleep midway and remembering that automatic drafts don’t work here (at least, not the way I want it to), so I just gave up.

But I’m glad I get to post this, here. It’s been a while. I feel like a bastard sonuvabitch who only ever goes home when he needs money. That’s a bit harsh, but I probably should try to visit more often. This felt nice. I feel like a fat lot’s rolled off my shoulders. I should do this more often.

I Missed This Place.


and now you spend your evenings
searching for another life
— King Krule, “Easy Easy”

Let’s begin with the big rocks.

I now have a full-time job as a call center agent. I flunked out of school, like I feared would finally happen a few months ago. There is now a baby in the house, though it is not mine. There are also other people in the house; the total headcount comes to 13. The house right now is a very crowded place. I am pitching in to buy a new TV that I don’t think we should get, but we will be getting anyway. My sister currently has chicken pox. I am currently sick with a viral infection, and am on a five-day sick leave. I feel like I’ve already forgotten how to do my job. As early as now, actually, I already want out. I have taken up smoking as a daily habit, except on weekdays. I smoke ice menthols. My hair is now back to plain old black. Oh, and I am still a single virgin.

Okay. Now. Pebbles.

I have long nails now. It’s very hard to maintain them. I scrub myself with lemons when I bathe. I tie back what I can of my hair and I pin the rest back with a zoo of hairclips. I own dresses and heels now, and I wear them quite often to work. I have a canister of candies for when I feel like shit, and nowadays I notice my teeth always hurt because I grab a couple of caramels every few minutes (and doesn’t that say a lot about how I feel at any given moment in time). I eat a single chocolate for  breakfast every morning. My officemate picks me up every morning on the way to work. He’s a very nice person. I hang out with exactly two people outside of my work circle. Within my work circle, I hang out with exactly two people as well (not the same people as the ones outside, of course.) I just cleaned my room today. I also wrote a bit.

What my desk looks like after I clean the fuck out of it

What my desk looks like after I clean the fuck out of it

In case you’re wondering what the substance of this post is, I am not going to lie to you: there isn’t any. It’s another one of those life updates I used to be so fond of, back when I had the time to just sit around in my bed and talk about things endlessly to a nonexisting audience. Life updates which are just that: updates on my life, the goings-on, what-have-yous. No deep existential shit whatsoever. Besides, I haven’t been doing much thinking lately, anyway. Currently I have a lot going on in my mind (because of some ill developments in certain situations, and my own sour-graper ego), but hell I am tired of complaining; I wanna shut up about the bitchiness of life for once. I don’t want to be angry about anything right now; I just want to talk, to get shit off of my chest without having to be responsible for consequences talking out loud might have in the real world. So here I am, in my old comfort place. This is how my own room felt like when I came home from Baguio with the knowledge that I wasn’t going back. Smells a bit different, but not much has changed.

I missed this place. I missed it so very, very much.

Oh, and would you look at that. Almost exactly a year since my last post. Happy new year, my dear.

Hello, my universe. It’s good to be back, even for a little while.

Things Have Happened

I enrolled. Fixed my schedules, paid my fees. Went to class for the first time this semester.

After the last class of the day, I found that I’m not ready for this yet. It’s going to be really difficult this time, I can feel it.

That being said, I hung out with my classmates on the first couple days of class.

I’m the one in the green shirt & faded jeans + dirty black sneakers.

I went back home to Manila after.

I got my hair dyed red for some reason I’m not sure of. I also had it cut a bit shorter. I like it. I think it looks kinda awesome. And besides, my sister paid for it.

It’s her birthday in a couple of days too, so I guess I came home in time.

There’s a big storm over some parts of the country again. Signal no. 5 or something. I can’t even begin to think of things that would make this okay.

We have a new fish in the tank. It’s an aroana. We haven’t yet decided on the name. It seems to be afraid of me.

fish

In No Particular Order..

November 1. My dad accidentally stepped on a piece of wood with a rusty nail poking out of it. He had to get anti-tetanus shots for it, but not until two days after and his foot had swollen to twice its size. Because y’know, trips to the doctor are impractical affairs that cost money. He’s fine now, just limping a little. I can only hope he remembers that big rusty nail digging into his sole and how he yelled in panic the next time he refuses to be careful.

* * * * *

October 20. This was the puppy that died. She was named Chewbacca, nicknamed Chewie. She is survived by her mother, Rasubear, and her three sisters Bernardine, Little Brown, & Diamond.

Chewie

* * * * *

I’ll be going back to Baguio in a few days. I’m packing up later today. Enrollment’s on the 5th, and classes start on the 7th. Who’s heard of breathers? Apparently not the folks at school.  I miss my friends, sure, but that hardly matters when set beside the prospect of the impending hardship this oncoming storm that is 2nd Semester AY 2013 – 2014 is bound to be. Damn it, I am so not ready for the new semester. I am not ready at all.

* * * * *

Some good albums:

* * * * *

October 30. I went out and was social with my two younger friends again.

Looking forward to going with these guys to UPD FebFair again next year.

* * * * *

This sembreak was rather productive. I got around to finishing some of the books I’ve been meaning to get over and done with, I cleaned out my room, wiped windows, cooked some stuff for the Feast Of All Souls, and even got around to sorting my reading material, as you can see below.

Look at those readings. Hot damn, that’s a lot. And that’s not even all of it; I threw away some of my papers from first year (shame on me, I know). That’s still a whole lot of reading material I’ll probably never get around to reading until summer. Then, and maybe on Christmas break. I’m pretty excited!

* * * * *

October 26 & 29. I bought myself some books, and a new journal.

Tom Carson’s Gilligan’s Wake & Benjamin Kunkel’s Indecision bought on October 26 for Php99, Php49.50 each.

Giligan's Wake; Indecision

On the same day I bought the new journal, whom I dubbed Vlad Joachim. Green, hardbound, unlined, with black ribbon page marker. “Middle finger foot” sticker rebuked from Gretta Juliann and transferred to back of Joche.

Holly Payne’s The Virgin Knot, Alex Master’s Stuart: A Life Backwards, & Stephen King’s Needful Things bought  on October 29 at Booksale, all for under Php90. Covers aren’t in good condition, but the pages are alright. Currently in the middle of Needful Things. Probably the best bargain book I’ve ever bought.

The Virgin's Knot; Stuart: A Life Backwards, Needful Things

* * * * *

Check out this fuckin’ big-ass rabbit

* * * * *

I need to sleep. The rest of the posts will have to wait until later today.

Another Life Update, With Lots Of Visual Aids

Shitty internet, as usual, thus the four days of nothing on this blog. Oh well, it’s not like I could have written anything, anyway. The flames of Hell Week are now thoroughly licking our asscheeks, and if I was suddenly granted the wisdom to run a blog with proper posts while at the same time make major papers and review for exams, I’d start renewing my faith and believing in god. In short, “ha, that’ll be the day.” (Well, technically I am outlining another paper that’s due tomorrow as I type this up, but don’t let that fool you. I can hardly balance it. In fact, I’ll probably fall asleep on one or both of the things I’m doing.)

* * * * *

I crammed the whole day today. And I don’t just mean “I copied off my classmate’s homework that morning”, I mean “I skimmed through more than 3 decades of Phil Lit in English and sped through my exam in an hour so I could get started on a 7-page analysis of Jose Garcia Villa’s prose due in 6 hours”. I only had 3 hours of sleep this morning (not because of academics, mind you; the internet was fine so I took leisurely advantage of it huehuehue) and I surprised myself at my resistance to procrastinate. I actually got the paper done with less agony than I imagined (due partly to my awesome sister’s help.) Maybe I can only really work when under severe pressure. Maybe I have to learn to love this kind of thing and thrive with it. Ugghhh.

I did reward myself with some bread, though. Ah, bread: hotdog rolls and chocolate chip muffins and cheese rolls. My joys can be simple at times, and it came full circle when I paired my Dane’s Bakeshop treasures with some foil pack orange juice. Ah, orange juice.

* * * * *

I gave the stranger the CD I made her. I followed her, poked her turned back, handed it to her and ran away. I don’t know what she did with it, and only the insatiably curious part of me is wanting to know. I only saw her one more time after I gave her the CD (I would have liked it better if I didn’t see her at all), and she didn’t even look at me. Given the situation—I was with a friend who was on the phone, and I was listening in on it—it was understandable that nothing happened. Well actually, it would be understandable if nothing at all happened, ever. I mean really, who am I kidding? But well, at least that’s out of the way.

* * * * *

I’ve been socializing again. My Facebook profile is now fraught with photos of hanging out in places with the new friends I have made, and my best friend. It is all very surreal; Hell Week is practically on our asses and we were out there, eating at different fast food stores and staying after we’ve eaten for hours on end just taking pictures and laughing our asses off, or monkeying around the empty school lobby. Nobody slept that night—well, nobody except me, maybe—because everyone was up making papers, but our Facebook walls were active as all hell. It was funny, and fun. It helped keep us awake, I guess.

Plus, I really like some of the photos we took. I liked how they came out after I corrected the colours and added some noise to the others (for effect, aba syempre)

* * * * *

I made one more new friend; she’s my other new friend’s best friend. Before we all became friends, among their group she was the one I was least close to. Recently, though, we started sharing a table at the canteen whenever me & my best friend meets their group by chance, and the two of us got to talking. I’ve known for a while that she was a pretty rad kid—listens to Guns N Roses and The Ramones, is very very intelligent, small and generally cute. Hell, my best friend is practically in love with her. We started hanging out more often, and we talk more now; she even sits by me when I’m alone. I’ve caught her looking at me when I wasn’t looking, and her general behaviour towards me seems kind of different than her usual with other people, but that’s probably just me. I’m not going to lie, though: I love spending time with her.

* * * * *

I am talking with herI PMed her on Facebook for no particular reason, just testing out the lack of feeling regarding her that I had so suddenly noticed just recently. True enough, I didn’t feel anything anymore. I was a little pissed at how boring the conversation was, but I can’t blame her: a crazy former blocmate who professed undying love and began pseudo-stalking her was now talking to her again after having sat silent for so long. I understood. It was a civil conversation, and I told her that I still had plans of meeting her, but made no definite declarations; only hints of the “near future”. Hell, I don’t even know if that shit’s going to happen (because her mixtape is nowhere near even fully conceptualized, and honestly that’s the only reason I’m meeting up with her) so yeah I don’t know what that was for. Probably just proving a point to my whiny-ass self from a few months ago.

* * * * *

We found a new boarding house! I wish I had pictures, because I can’t use words to do justice to the beauty of the place. It’s a studio-type flat with a black-&-white theme, and we strongly feel that the house owners must have been art students (plus he was really cute, damn!) The walk to the place is a little perilous, though: it’s a three-minute trek just to climb the uneven stairs. Even the steps leading to the house were artistic: the white concrete tiles had bottles embedded in them, and the some of the bottles had plants growing in them. Walking was a  treat visually (but physically no.) The area is beautiful and so very zen, though, and that’s one very big reason why I’m 90% sure about taking the place. It’s a space for four people, though, so I don’t know how I’m going to be coping with having to live with people again, after living an entire semester by myself.  It’s good that my new friends are my prospective housemates, though. They don’t look like the rat-nesting type. We plan to go back tomorrow, so I can probably update this post with pics by then.

* * * * *

I only have five more academic hurdles to overcome—one already finished and just waiting for the go signal for submission—and I will be home free. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but you have to understand that this is all in the space of 3 days. This needs some divine intervention if I want my grades to be half-decent at least. God knows how I could have finished my Phil Lit in English paper without my sister’s help and the internet services card I had always taken for granted. The fact that the internet in this house only gets its shit together in the wee hours of the morning would have been okay if I was the kind of person who made papers when running low on sleep, which unfortunately I am not. And yet here I am, blogging away the minute the internet came back on. My priorities are a little skewed right now. Give me a break; it’s Hell Week.

Thoughts & Events, As If There’s Anything Else To Talk About

I feel like I should get back to this blog more. It’s been difficult not being able to post things when I want to due to the damn internet connection at the boarding house—honestly, I’d have been better off if they cut off the wifi altogether rather than have it sit there like an ugly trinket taunting me with its uselessness—and I had noticed that Facebook was once again becoming my go-to outlet for ideas and interesting finds, though nowhere near my old Facebook addiction. It’s actually a lot healthier now, and my Tumblring has been a good thing too. These social media serve to add to my knowledge because of the info they bring within my reach, plus a little social interaction to strengthen real-world friendships and connections. They’re great, honestly. I just feel that this blog should still be my priority, and that if I have things to say, it really ought to go here and not anywhere else, because this is the designated place for those things. Information gathering is to be done on those sites, and information translation or output is to be placed here supposedly. This site is a little difficult to navigate—especially if you want to make a multimedia post that expresses feelings and states of mind accurately—when the internet connection is so flimsy it can only hold up to about 3 minutes of scrolling before it breaks down completely for the next few days.

—–

My mom saw my cuts the other day. She didn’t yell, or lose her head. Not at all. She sounded more irritated than anything, like she couldn’t believe the sort of immature thing I had done. She did tell me how crazy it is, though, and how I’m not, and that the only one who can make me better is myself, and that I have total control of what my brain does.

This is one of those times when my mom becomes a part of the human populace in general, and is a perfect example of why I don’t like talking to people too much: what they say almost always makes little to no sense to me, and it gets me frustrated.

Sigh.

—–

I don’t think I have told this blog that the reason I became obsessed with skies for a time was you. It’s probably an omen of something good that I have been taking less and less photos of skies—though that’s not to say that I don’t love skies truly, because I do. It’s just that now I know which skies to treasure and which ones to let slip and eventually forget.

—–

My brain is truly determined to cram every single academic requirement I need to finish this sem into the last milliseconds of their deadlines. I don’t know what stimulates this kind of thinking, that I don’t have to hurry even if the deadline’s in a couple of days because I don’t need a lot of time anyway, cramming has always gotten the shit done so there’s no need to panic, my work often turns out good even if it was done in less than a few hours. Excessive overconfidence? A sort of loosely-masked panic paralysis? Last night I remember having said something about needing to definitely get my shit together today, and I swear to god when I said that I was not expecting to say it again today, but here I go: I need to get this thing over and done with tomorrow, because tomorrow’s Monday and there’s seriously no time for me to go on believing that some miracle will happen in the last few seconds before all my deadlines. It’s just not gonna happen. So maybe this time, I’m serious.

—–

I also saw Love In The Time Of Cholera last week, around a few days before watching The Hobbit. I had been reading Villa’s Selected Stories prior, and was so deeply moved by the stories’ restrained romance and depictions of the solitude of humanity that I felt I had to make the feeling last somehow. I remembered that I haven’t finished the movie since the last time I attempted to view it (I fell asleep at some point) so I pressed play and let myself be drowned in it. Unax Ugalde and Giovanna Mezzogiorno were beautiful and perfect, but what really made my heart leap and do backflips and cry in a corner was Javier Bardem and his goddamn eyelashes and RDJ-ish face. The story itself was heartbreakingly beautiful (syempre Gabriel Garcia Marquez ba naman e) and I am not ashamed to say that I laughed and cried my heart out to this movie more than any others I have seen in a while. The images were beautiful, and I didn’t even mind the three hour runtime, because it was worth every second.

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Nearly 20 minutes to 1AM and I’m still up rambling. Maybe I should do this for a living.

Random Thoughts Sans Logical Bodies

I’m not going to give the mix CD to her. I did some preemptive Google searching (which I should have done weeks ago) and found that, indeed, she is someone who is very very far from what I am as a person. I feel a little sad at the thought of the CD I made with her in mind going to somebody else—or maybe even gathering dust in my closet someday—but I guess if I’m going to be realistic then this is the way to go. I might change my mind next week, though, if I see her and happen to have the CD on my person. It’s all about the risk-taking, my crazy head says.

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Lately I’ve been getting the feeling that if I just pushed myself  a little more, I could actually do at least some of the things that I ought to and want to do. If I didn’t dismiss small thoughts as useless, I could write entire posts & essays on them. If I tried really hard, I could stop writing about byproducts of navel-gazing and actually write a coherent paragraph on something. Getting started on my academic requirements sooner rather than later would mean I could probably finish them on time, if not earlier. A little happy small talk with my dad would make him feel a lot better about his problems. These feelings have been coming and going with alarming strength and regularity recently, but even as the ideas present themselves my brain fervently opposes them. It moves to squash it, and for all intents and purposes seems hell bent on keeping the idea at bay from my internal plumbing. My brain can be a real shitbag sometimes.

I’ve been immersing myself in literature recently. I’ve long since been insecure about the things that I read, mainly because I often feel that I’m not reading enough and that therefore I must probably be very stupid and unfit to make intellectual statements. Recently I’ve been trying to improve it, though the books I read aren’t exactly the ones at the top of the lists of people like Benedict Cumberbatch or people who read the likes of Bukowski. No, I’m starting slow and easy: books by Stephen King, short stories of Filipino writers written in English (thank you BLL 133), any poems I can get my hands on (thank you BLL 110), and generally material that’s more or less easy to digest. It’s primarily my ADHD-CT that’s making all of this hard, and sometimes I still beat myself up over the fact that I can’t really acquire as much knowledge as I want to with this state of mental health. But, seeing as how there’s no one else to blame, I figured I had to pick myself up some time or other—god knows no one’s gonna help me up—and get to work trying to make what I have now stay a little longer. I don’t know if it’s going to go back to the way it once was—when I could skim meaning from the page without so much sweeping my eyes across it—but I’m sure if I don’t let this one thing die, it won’t, and not until I myself do.

Also, reading Jose Garcia Villa and Jose Dalisay makes me want to rip out my innards and wipe my tears with it.

I saw The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey a few days ago. See, this is one of those things that I know I would have plenty to say about if I was able to force myself to choke out an organized set of lines on it. It was beautiful and it made me remember how much I had loved the LOTR trilogy all those years ago, which is something I somehow forgot over the years. BUT because I really cannot force my half-asleep brain into thinking of an intro, a body and a clincher to top it all off (oh god flashbacks of all the academic papers I ever wrote *cries tears of blood*) right now, I will simply leave the matter with a temporary ending: I have a massive crush on Kili. There, I said it.

I’m sleepy and I haven’t done anything that I have to do and have had to do since last week. Hell Week is approaching blindingly fast, but strangely I don’t feel any pressure. I don’t know what I was expecting; it just kind of feels odd, this time. Maybe I’m being too confident about my cramming skills again. I have to get my shit together tomorrow, though; it’s not like I can stay in internet-friendly Manila forever.