Minsan may mga gabing nangungulila ako sa kausap kahit wala naman ako sa wisyong makipag-usap. Nakakatamad tumawag o mag-text, magbihis nang maayos, lumabas ng bahay, atbp. Dapat nga magkikita kami ni Ip ngayon e pero nakalimutan niya yata. Medyo wala rin akong ganang makipagkita sa totoo lang, kaya hindi ko na rin sa kanya ipinaalala.
Anyway Huawei, may nahanap akong Random Question Generator kanina. Basic lang ang mga tanong pero pwede nang patulan. E sa wala akong magawa e.
Four bottles of beer, and I woke up with a hangover.
I could picture my 20-year old self shaking her head in disappointment. Naikot natin ang mga inuman sa KNL, mars, tapos sumuko ka sa apat? Well, what do you know? People grow old, Young Me, and newsflash: you are now officially in your late twenties.
I longed for this. The growing old, the entire jig about being an adult. The sage advice has always been to live in the present — carpe diem — but I was never one to listen. I wanted to grow old and now here we are. I am past the phase of trying new things for the heck of it, of making mistakes just because I could. Decisions, I learned, weigh heavier when you’re old.
Malungkot ako kanina at — hindi ko na maalala kung paano — pero napadako ako sa Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. Mga inimbentong salita lang yata ito para sa mga specific na damdam at danas ng mga emotero. At dahil nga malungkot ako kanina, pumatol naman ako.
Nabasa ko ang salitang exulansis: “the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it.”
Naisip ko ‘yung minsang nagkuwento ako kay Ip tungkol sa trabaho ko. Sabi ko nahihirapan ako (at iba pang detalye na ayaw kong ibahagi rito). Pero sabi naman niya, baka sadya lang daw akong mapagdamdam. Ang mahalaga raw ay nagagawa ko ang mga task na nakaatas sa akin. Huwag ko na raw alalahanin kung paano bubuhatin ang ibang tao; unnecessary na pasanin lang daw iyon.
May punto si Ip. Mas mahalaga ngang maging objective at ituon na lang ang pansin sa mga kongkretong suliranin. Ang feelings naman ay lumilipas din.
I was searching for blogger tags the other day when I stumbled upon this post from pensitivity101. It isn’t a tag, technically, but it does pose questions that I thought were worth pondering over.
So, what do you think makes a good post on your blog?
Hmm, that’s a tough question (char). My blog is a personal blog with no measurable clout, so I don’t really have the numbers to prove which posts are good or not. Maybe this question is better answered by bloggers with a bigger audience or with billable influence, so to speak. Otherwise I just write what I write and if the shitpiece is still up on this blog, then it’s good enough for me.
James Mercer is singing to me. A song about moving away, drinking cheap beer, and listening to rock ‘n roll. It’s New Slang 2.0 but I dig it. It’s an origin song too, I believe. A song about how he got to where he is, to making music, to making a living out of it. Press play, kind stranger.
I wonder what my origin song would be, if I could even write songs. Why did I even start playing music to begin with, if I could even play at all?
Ah, Grade 4! My mom wanted us to learn how to play music but we were too poor to buy a keyboard. One day, though, Ma came home from Cebu with a guitar. It’s worth 900 pesos, she told us, though I was too young to gauge whether that’s mahal or not.
I suffered from asthma as a kid. I was too young to remember the severity of the attacks, but I do remember being fed some concoction that involved buntot ng butiki and dahon ng kalachuchi. I don’t remember the taste at all — maybe it wasn’t that bad? I dunno.
When I started school I realized that I preferred staying indoors. I didn’t mind missing the outdoor fun. I was always the most useless player in a game anyway. The only “sport” I excelled at was hula-hoops. I swear, baks, nobody could ever beat me at hula-hoops.
I stopped having asthma attacks so I thought I was able to outgrow the disease. At 17, I started smoking.