Reduced to small talk

Hours after writing yesterday's entry I realized that it's essentially, accidentally, a rehash of something I wrote roughly eleven months ago.

Right, nothing wrong with what, right? But then I couldn't shake it off. I know this is bound to happen - I have been blogging here for almost thirteen and a half years, and I don't live an interesting life - and I am pretty sure it has happened before. Still, I had to check, and true enough, it's an entry I wrote roughly eleven months ago. Save for the amble about my commuting options, it is, almost beat by beat, a rumination about cooler climates abroad. I talk about that trench coat, I talk about layering, and I talk about we have to be reminded that it can be cool in the not-quite-but-more-literal melting pot that is Manila.

Well, there you go. I have been reduced to doing small talk on here. Talking about the weather - that's the very essence of small talk. If you're wary about saying too much about yourself, you talk about the weather.

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This was part of the photodump. I think this is near the National Taiwan University, where I got bubble milk and slightly cut my lip with the plastic straw.

Option 1: commute the usual way. Wake up at half past four, leave the house at half past five, and get to the office around half past six. You're first in the office, but you're there way too early. To make things worse, you can't go home until around half past four, by which time you've already been awake for twelve hours and you've wasted a fair amount of time doing little.

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If only you complained less

There are things that just stick to you, so much so that anybody who tells you to move on looks plainly irrational.

A decade ago or so, someone whose writing I looked up to - past tense, because she has since shifted towards a more, er, functional form of writing, and while it works for some it doesn't for me - told me that, well, I write well. I remind her of a favorite author of hers, in a way. But I'll never be as good as him. "If only you complained less," she told me.

Well, before she told me about the similarities I didn't really know about said decorated author. I now own some of his books, and yes, I agree we do write a similar way, but as I cringe whenever I try to be whimsical, I have long conceded that there's not much else to compare. Also, I am not funny, but it's not like I set out to be just that.

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This stupid democracy

I'm pretty sure my memory is failing me here. I'm pretty sure comments like these haven't just showed up in the past couple of years. I'm pretty sure these things were said during the past president's time in office, but then, with how much more indecent things seem these days it's easy to just point your every finger on the current president as the Starting Point of Everything That is Wrong.

That said, they're still weird comments, to put it one way, because of how selfish they actually are. "You should support this president," these thoughts tend to go, "because he is my president!" Like, it doesn't matter what you feel, because this person feels differently, and that feeling matters more than yours.

Okay, that perhaps is not accurate. The posts I've seen from some of the pro-Duterte people on my circles arguably sound more sinister than that. It always begins with how this president is poised to actually deliver on the change everyone else has promised - so far, so typical. You can argue the minutiae of that but it will really get you nowhere, because almost halfway through this regime minds are set and there's no entering that middle ground. And then it continues with how things have actually changed, which, again, is minutiae, because, you know, I just said all that earlier.

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Never off the beaten track

I took a dump somewhere in this train station.

"Hun, gusto ko next time mag-multi-country trip tayo."

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