Two words come to mind: lethargic, as DJ would say, and languorous, which according to Google means “oppressive stillness.” Now isn’t that accurate?
It must be the loneliness, I don’t know, but I don’t even have the energy to write anything tonight. I’ve been collecting sadness though, and I’ve been disposing them onto my sketchpad. Go and have a look. And if you don’t mind, dear stranger, please send hugs if you could. 😦
I watched six movies this month. Five out of six were romance films; the odd one out was Captain Marvel.
I didn’t write notes about these movies. I didn’t even think about them that much. I needed to rest my mind; I had enough shit to worry about this month.
When I watched Alone/Together I cried practically the entire time. I didn’t, no — I couldn’t think too much about the film. I don’t even remember anything about it; I just know that the tears started pouring the moment I saw CAL.
So believe it or not (believe it), I wasn’t always a self-deprecating dumb-ass who barely got through her acads. At one point in my origin story, I was actually pretty smart. Book-smart, math-smart — that brand of smart.
Unfortunately I peaked in grade school. Back then my marks were high enough to land me a spot in the Honor List even though all I ever did was show up. I never studied at home and I watched a lot of TV. The only time I truly cared was when we had to grow a plant for Science and I treasured my munggo seed like it was a mother’s most precious orchid. (I used to love botany, remember?)
One of my teachers then was Ma’am Tessie, a plump bespectacled guráng who put on smeared lipstick like an impish Bratz doll. Spoiler alert: Ma’am Tessie hated my guts.
I’m stuck at a problem at work. Last week I was given a huge data set to analyze but I couldn’t extract the metadata that I need to crunch. The boss didn’t give me a deadline but still, I’m frustrated. Sometimes I think I’m too dumb for this job. Sometimes I also think that maybe I shouldn’t have abandoned writing as a career.
I cringe every time I see a spike in my Stats. It doesn’t always happen, but when it does, it usually means that one curious cat got a tad too curious and decided to dig through my dusty archives.
Which is fine, actually. It’s dope. It proves that some people still find this space interesting and it makes me feel a little less alone (shet ang lungkot ko naman?). On the flip side, however, it also means that these people get to see more of my shortcomings as a writer. Exhibit A: my “very sad and very poor” grasp of the English language.
I’m aware of it, and I’m trying to be better at it. My about page says it all: please feel free to judge my grammar mistakes. I apologize for the lapses; I apologize for my egregious English.