Silence is not always complicity

Yesterday I found myself in a meeting - virtual, of course - with at least two high-ranking government officials.

It's not an extraordinary circumstance, by all means. Sure, perhaps it's somewhat extraordinary because, in some convoluted manner, the meeting was happening because of something I did. But that said, I've done these somewhat regularly, both in the old times and the current ones.

I never would have imagined that I would be in a position where I'm talking to high-level bureaucrats about industry concerns. It certainly felt like a lofty ambition - not that I ever dreamed it - when I began watching local news in earnest in high school. It felt like something only elected student government officials did when I was in college. But, well, there I was, spending the night before finishing a slide show, sending it off to people the following morning for them to present in the afternoon. They know my name and I didn't make a fool of myself answering some questions.

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Show me who your friends (and likes and follows) are

"Show me who your friends are, and I'll tell you who you are."

Nobody really knows where that quote came from. I chanced upon a website that tried to answer the question: it went as far as suggesting it first appeared in Don Quixote, but Miguel de Cervantes himself apparently said the proverb was already a thing when he wrote the novel. So there's that.

I was thinking about that quote while going through my Facebook feed, mindlessly, as we all do. Or do we all? I certainly do, most of the time - I don't think I even pay attention to what's on my feed anymore, as they're really just the same old things. There are people selling me things. There are people showing off how rich they are, thanks to those Axie things. There are people keen to demonstrate that they care about the world by being constantly angry at the state of affairs. You get the idea.

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Disappointingly, I cannot properly crop this photo within my format to cover the whole shelf... but these are the parts relevant to this entry, so at least there's that.

My whole thing with K-pop began almost nine years ago. As the story goes, it was on what turned out to be a date with Shalla - we weren't officially dating yet - at the Ayala Triangle Gardens, years before it became yet another massive construction site. For some reason, the conversation went to K-pop, and she made me listen to some songs.

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Head drugs

I was awake for almost 28 hours. I'm pretty sure I was up before five in the morning, and, of course, I wasn't able to fall asleep through the night. I tried, but it's hard to sleep while sitting on a chair that's just made for sitting down, surrounded by all those beeping sounds, and your eye still on the monitors, which have been screaming "respiratory apnea" for the past few hours.

We got into our private room at six in the morning, and even then I couldn't sleep. That time, I wasn't trying. I was just up. I'm don't think it's adrenaline. I didn't really spend time running around, save for that one convenience store run. (Was I even supposed to be out and about?) When we got settled I was thinking of getting breakfast - Shalla apparently was ordered to fast, never mind that the ER team said she can eat "anything" just a few hours before - and of getting some work done. I mean, I am in the midst of what is potentially - no, definitely - life-changing event, and I have the feeling I am going to be reprimanded for not being productive.

Should I get coffee? I decided against it. Then I remembered that I have not had coffee since breakfast from the day before, from before she sat beside me, asked for a kiss, and then admitted that she took almost all of her antidepressants.

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Low frequencies

I think it's a 60-inch television hanging on a pillar in the middle of the room. I'm not good at these things, but then, I never really think about it all the time. I even have to remind myself that my laptop has a 13-inch screen.

That screen displays the status of every patient in the room. There are sixteen beds. The first four aren't displayed, perhaps because they're designated "critical". Well, I assume it is, because the partitions are labeled with a C. The rest have an A, which I assume stands for "adult".

The screen says the first four A beds are slated for admission to the intensive care unit. Two of them have been waiting for a bed for two days. Another one has been waiting for three.

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