"What to write, what to write..."
"Compromise."
"I forgot why I titled it compromise."
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11/30/2008
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11/28/2008
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It was the usual set-up. Kris and Glenn, who constantly talked, were at the front. Neobie and I walked behind them, but we were the opposite. My hands were on the back pockets, although my pinky and my thumb would be outside the pocket, so that I'd feel the force going down on me. She had her jacket slung on her left arm, and it stayed in its position throughout most of the walk. And we were quiet.
The four of us were off to lunch again. It still felt unusual. The two in front always went out for lunch, unless they were inundated with work and had to get take-out instead. Neobie, on the other hand, always brought packed lunch, with was either a sandwich or a quaintly-packed microwaveable container. It's been going on for two weeks, and I had the feeling I shouldn't be going down for lunch by myself, even if it's obviously past noon. I was right.
So we walked along the side streets of Ortigas. For some reason, we all decided to eat at Tokyo Tokyo, although I'm not sure whether there was a previous agreement to do so. (Or I was, again, the last to know. Why else would Neobie not bring lunch?) I felt useful, at least, when I suggested that we go to the Shangri-la Plaza branch instead of the one at SM Megamall, partly because it's nearer, and partly because I didn't know where it exactly was.
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The four of us were off to lunch again. It still felt unusual. The two in front always went out for lunch, unless they were inundated with work and had to get take-out instead. Neobie, on the other hand, always brought packed lunch, with was either a sandwich or a quaintly-packed microwaveable container. It's been going on for two weeks, and I had the feeling I shouldn't be going down for lunch by myself, even if it's obviously past noon. I was right.
So we walked along the side streets of Ortigas. For some reason, we all decided to eat at Tokyo Tokyo, although I'm not sure whether there was a previous agreement to do so. (Or I was, again, the last to know. Why else would Neobie not bring lunch?) I felt useful, at least, when I suggested that we go to the Shangri-la Plaza branch instead of the one at SM Megamall, partly because it's nearer, and partly because I didn't know where it exactly was.
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11/26/2008
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I was the last one out of the lunch rush, so I was the last one out the door. Well, that's the idea, at least. I did hold the door open for two ladies, a tidbit I didn't have to pick up from an expensive magazine with a disappointing cover spread. And then I went out the door, half-thinking that there's another one yet to make his way outside. I was spilling my float, so I guess I can be forgiven.
The next thing I knew, I was walking ahead of my companions. Usually I'd do something despicable here - say, shamelessly borrow Neobie's words and call it "mandatory socialization" - but it's not exactly the best thing to do. First, I could've turned down Kris' invitation, but since I'm finished with my penultimate write-up, I figured it wouldn't hurt. Second, there's no socialization in the strictest sense of the word. I was, after all, walking ahead of my companions, taking care of my slightly-spilt float.
And then, under the high midday sun, my thoughts would start rushing, like they always do when I'm having lunch alone. But you overhear the conversations behind you, and you think that you should be with them as well, but you realize that there's nothing to talk about. Maybe your inclusion was the last choice, after all. I could've thought that way, but instead I wondered whether I can slow down my walking to be able to "catch up" with them, if you can still call it such. I hate walking slowly.
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The next thing I knew, I was walking ahead of my companions. Usually I'd do something despicable here - say, shamelessly borrow Neobie's words and call it "mandatory socialization" - but it's not exactly the best thing to do. First, I could've turned down Kris' invitation, but since I'm finished with my penultimate write-up, I figured it wouldn't hurt. Second, there's no socialization in the strictest sense of the word. I was, after all, walking ahead of my companions, taking care of my slightly-spilt float.
And then, under the high midday sun, my thoughts would start rushing, like they always do when I'm having lunch alone. But you overhear the conversations behind you, and you think that you should be with them as well, but you realize that there's nothing to talk about. Maybe your inclusion was the last choice, after all. I could've thought that way, but instead I wondered whether I can slow down my walking to be able to "catch up" with them, if you can still call it such. I hate walking slowly.
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11/25/2008
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They say it takes thirteen weeks for a person to acquire a habit. Keep up with the repetitions, however tedious it may be at the beginning, and soon enough it will be hard wired into you. In other words, it'll just come naturally.
I've been at work for twenty-one weeks now, and I'm sure I've already acquired quite a few of those habits. I always wake up at 05.00 flat, unless it's a Friday, in which case I wake up thirty minutes later (or, if I feel like rushing, fifteen minutes later). I always play my iPod in the bathroom, while doing my business in the toilet, which has come around every morning, and nowhere else in the day. Whenever I get to my computer at work, I always unplug the network cable until just after I officially log in, so as to prevent having to wait for everything to load for a very, very long time.
Today, though, I realized that I don't actually have to unplug the network cable during every start-up. It was a nifty tip taught to me by our IT guy when I was still new to the company and was very frustrated with not getting things to work, but after they've overhauled the servers, the lag time is all but noticeable. But the routine's etched in my brain now, that I don't think I'll remember not to unplug that cable when I sit here tomorrow. Well, maybe until I publish this entry.
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I've been at work for twenty-one weeks now, and I'm sure I've already acquired quite a few of those habits. I always wake up at 05.00 flat, unless it's a Friday, in which case I wake up thirty minutes later (or, if I feel like rushing, fifteen minutes later). I always play my iPod in the bathroom, while doing my business in the toilet, which has come around every morning, and nowhere else in the day. Whenever I get to my computer at work, I always unplug the network cable until just after I officially log in, so as to prevent having to wait for everything to load for a very, very long time.
Today, though, I realized that I don't actually have to unplug the network cable during every start-up. It was a nifty tip taught to me by our IT guy when I was still new to the company and was very frustrated with not getting things to work, but after they've overhauled the servers, the lag time is all but noticeable. But the routine's etched in my brain now, that I don't think I'll remember not to unplug that cable when I sit here tomorrow. Well, maybe until I publish this entry.
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11/23/2008
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I've already written four fairly long paragraphs and dropped five names. I ended up replacing all of them with a flimsy metaphor: a conversation with Jenn early this morning.
It was almost fifty past one, and we've spent the last forty saying nothing. Inevitable, but previously discussed.
"Ano bang ginagawa mo?" I said, offering answers that grew more ridiculous by the minute, all wrong.
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It was almost fifty past one, and we've spent the last forty saying nothing. Inevitable, but previously discussed.
"Ano bang ginagawa mo?" I said, offering answers that grew more ridiculous by the minute, all wrong.
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11/22/2008
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Glare in the eye. Couple of eye bags, usual for a graduate, barely discernible unless you look closely, boom, there goes lunch. Mysterious from the beginning, absurdly quiet, understandably quiet. Nice. Apparently nice.
Apparently crazy enough to drive you crazy. Tendency to be crazy unknown, pretty much a variable, reports of possibility significant but still unsustainable. Noticeable effect in people, easily dismissible, reasons unknown.
Literary background. Got noticed, will get noticed, probably published but all people probably notice is the name and nothing else. Presence minimal, prescribed by some sightings, very easy to miss unless assured entry into exclusivity circle. When noticed, don't notice too much. Don't overflow, unless willing to risk relationship status, unless you're willing to be subjected to thought torture. Don't initiate physical contact. One poke is probably enough. Shoulder taps still not a good thing.
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Apparently crazy enough to drive you crazy. Tendency to be crazy unknown, pretty much a variable, reports of possibility significant but still unsustainable. Noticeable effect in people, easily dismissible, reasons unknown.
Literary background. Got noticed, will get noticed, probably published but all people probably notice is the name and nothing else. Presence minimal, prescribed by some sightings, very easy to miss unless assured entry into exclusivity circle. When noticed, don't notice too much. Don't overflow, unless willing to risk relationship status, unless you're willing to be subjected to thought torture. Don't initiate physical contact. One poke is probably enough. Shoulder taps still not a good thing.
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11/20/2008
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Lately, more often than not, I hate myself because I remember so many things. Those little details that people often forget, well, they'll just occur to me at the most inconvenient time. (With that, I mean the usuals: idle time, lunch, sitting in front of the computer, daydream and looking to the right.) Sometimes I wonder why I can talk for hours about periods in my life that most usually consign to the trash bin because they're hurtful, or because there's just no space for it anymore. I never really thought of it much since.
When I was in second grade, for instance, the entire class had what I termed as a "ginger tea party" - well, that's how I described it when I wrote it down on my bond paper newspapers. The canteen had served up glasses of the warm stuff and gave it to all forty-something students, in preparation for choir duties for the third grade students who were undergoing their First Communion. All those plastic, apple green glasses that felt good to the touch.
Or, much more recently, I remember censoring out a swear word that I quoted on a blog entry. It was about Saliksik, or at least what Clarence later called as the event that made me the "highlight" of the recollection. Huey wrote something that I thought, with all my depression, summed up everything that happened (or at least gave an explanation for my bad mood that day). That it is useless to hide yourself and that it's asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk. I only reversed the decision when I quoted Karla a few weeks ago, and I went back to the blog entry and wrote the four-letter word in its gritty glory. I even told Niña about it, through an elaborate online conversation that kills boredom.
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When I was in second grade, for instance, the entire class had what I termed as a "ginger tea party" - well, that's how I described it when I wrote it down on my bond paper newspapers. The canteen had served up glasses of the warm stuff and gave it to all forty-something students, in preparation for choir duties for the third grade students who were undergoing their First Communion. All those plastic, apple green glasses that felt good to the touch.
Or, much more recently, I remember censoring out a swear word that I quoted on a blog entry. It was about Saliksik, or at least what Clarence later called as the event that made me the "highlight" of the recollection. Huey wrote something that I thought, with all my depression, summed up everything that happened (or at least gave an explanation for my bad mood that day). That it is useless to hide yourself and that it's asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk. I only reversed the decision when I quoted Karla a few weeks ago, and I went back to the blog entry and wrote the four-letter word in its gritty glory. I even told Niña about it, through an elaborate online conversation that kills boredom.
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11/19/2008
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I was trying to look at one of the menus laid out on the table. Kris' shoulder was blocking the one to right, which happens to be the one I was reading. I wasn't keen on the other one, because Neobie was flipping the pages around in such a high-speed manner, than I couldn't really follow anything. Then again, they took the menus because the one posted above the counter was up so high, and the text was in such a small type that nobody actually bothered to read it. Not me, though; I already had a choice and just wanted to make sure.
Kris did follow on her assurance yesterday. We were, after all, at Abondanza, which amounts to a small-ish nook behind one of the towering structures along San Miguel Avenue. I didn't really plan to have lunch with anybody today - although I was keeping the possibility on the back burner, only because Kris floated it yesterday - because I had a lot to do today. Finding newsworthy stuff is one; finding a way out of slow proxy servers is another. Luckily I managed to watch American Dad! in the past, or else I would be in overtime right now.
I ended up buying a pretty expensive dish. Heck, I figured, I'll splurge today, although the rest were a little economical in their mindset. Glenn and Kris shared the house specialty and even shared the pizza they bought with the Lasallian (former) newbies, partly because there were eight slices. Neobie, as usual, bought a small serving of lasagna, which was thankfully around to serve her. It was much like the lunch-out minus Valerie; the jibes were either aimed at Neobie's small appetite, or Glenn's large appetite. And, in many respects, I was still the most silent person in the group.
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Kris did follow on her assurance yesterday. We were, after all, at Abondanza, which amounts to a small-ish nook behind one of the towering structures along San Miguel Avenue. I didn't really plan to have lunch with anybody today - although I was keeping the possibility on the back burner, only because Kris floated it yesterday - because I had a lot to do today. Finding newsworthy stuff is one; finding a way out of slow proxy servers is another. Luckily I managed to watch American Dad! in the past, or else I would be in overtime right now.
I ended up buying a pretty expensive dish. Heck, I figured, I'll splurge today, although the rest were a little economical in their mindset. Glenn and Kris shared the house specialty and even shared the pizza they bought with the Lasallian (former) newbies, partly because there were eight slices. Neobie, as usual, bought a small serving of lasagna, which was thankfully around to serve her. It was much like the lunch-out minus Valerie; the jibes were either aimed at Neobie's small appetite, or Glenn's large appetite. And, in many respects, I was still the most silent person in the group.
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11/18/2008
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Breaking story from this blog: Kris has returned from an eight-day trip to Singapore.
Well, it's not really a shocking thing. We've known that for two weeks now, and as if it needs any reminding, the editorial calendar for this week had nothing for her on Monday, but everything for her on Tuesday. It wasn't much, but at least it brings some sense of normality (Daniel Radcliffe said it isn't "normalcy") to these set of computers at the office. Three people means two people stick together and one stays alone, and you know what I mean.
"How are you guys doing? Anything new?"
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Well, it's not really a shocking thing. We've known that for two weeks now, and as if it needs any reminding, the editorial calendar for this week had nothing for her on Monday, but everything for her on Tuesday. It wasn't much, but at least it brings some sense of normality (Daniel Radcliffe said it isn't "normalcy") to these set of computers at the office. Three people means two people stick together and one stays alone, and you know what I mean.
"How are you guys doing? Anything new?"
Read more »
11/15/2008
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Jason said the screening will start at half past six, but it's already half past seven, and nobody has started talking yet. Then again, it's a free screening; the satisfaction those who attended the second Filipino Pictures filmmaking workshop get from seeing their work applauded by audiences and mentors is more than enough. But I had a ride to catch when I finally leave, and it'd be a bummer if I walk the entire length of the Ortigas Center just to find out that I'll have to take a bus. I ended up doing that.
Anyway, I was actually happy to know that the films aren't really that long. Fifteen minutes is the longest, and among the three, Jason's was eleven minutes long. (It's a group effort anyway, but when I started watching his work, entitled Elysium, it felt like Jason was directing it, because I imagined him during our thesis. I was right.) Ideally, everything shouldn't take an hour - although it is some sort of graduation exercise, after all, so the speeches are expected - but the delay's starting to bore me. I've run out of conversation pieces with Jason's cousin, whose name I've already forgotten. Luckily we've grabbed some snacks before we got into the cinema. KFC Snack Box, thank you for being so portable.
I failed to drag other people to the screening. Maybe it was the high Case Unclosed brought. (I wasn't able to watch it because, like many other current affairs programs on the telly, it hits the air so late at night.) Maybe it's because everything was announced at the last minute: I only learned about the screening the night before, so my decision to go was a very impulsive one. At least I wasn't exactly alone, since I was talking to someone. Better yet, I was used to watching films alone, or at least what Sir Doy described as being on the fringes.
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Anyway, I was actually happy to know that the films aren't really that long. Fifteen minutes is the longest, and among the three, Jason's was eleven minutes long. (It's a group effort anyway, but when I started watching his work, entitled Elysium, it felt like Jason was directing it, because I imagined him during our thesis. I was right.) Ideally, everything shouldn't take an hour - although it is some sort of graduation exercise, after all, so the speeches are expected - but the delay's starting to bore me. I've run out of conversation pieces with Jason's cousin, whose name I've already forgotten. Luckily we've grabbed some snacks before we got into the cinema. KFC Snack Box, thank you for being so portable.
I failed to drag other people to the screening. Maybe it was the high Case Unclosed brought. (I wasn't able to watch it because, like many other current affairs programs on the telly, it hits the air so late at night.) Maybe it's because everything was announced at the last minute: I only learned about the screening the night before, so my decision to go was a very impulsive one. At least I wasn't exactly alone, since I was talking to someone. Better yet, I was used to watching films alone, or at least what Sir Doy described as being on the fringes.
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11/14/2008
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"Is it self-fulfilling, Henrik?"
"If it's clerical, I won't hesitate leaving. Lately? For some reason, I feel it is. Soon I won't, but now it is."
"Dream and aim higher! Take the plunge, ika nga."
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"If it's clerical, I won't hesitate leaving. Lately? For some reason, I feel it is. Soon I won't, but now it is."
"Dream and aim higher! Take the plunge, ika nga."
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11/12/2008
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Every afternoon I wonder how some people manage to stay optimistic despite the odds. How do people actually have the gall to claim that everything will be all right, when first, they don't know what I'm going through, and second, they don't know what they're talking about?
"Okay lang yan," according to Karla. "Shit happens."
After two days of suspended bliss, I came crashing down to the ground. Sputter sputter konk konk bam. That's how it probably went, but I don't know, and I don't really have a way of knowing. All I know is I came crashing down to the ground hard, and although it still isn't a nice feeling, I couldn't feel anything else. Nineteen weeks, and I'm so used to it.
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"Okay lang yan," according to Karla. "Shit happens."
After two days of suspended bliss, I came crashing down to the ground. Sputter sputter konk konk bam. That's how it probably went, but I don't know, and I don't really have a way of knowing. All I know is I came crashing down to the ground hard, and although it still isn't a nice feeling, I couldn't feel anything else. Nineteen weeks, and I'm so used to it.
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11/11/2008
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At one point, I thought it sucks to be really in touch with your feelings. It's one thing to know what they are, and it's another thing to know when they actually strike. If you're someone like me, who's out to know whether the things I encounter are the things I am supposed to encounter, then you probably understand how it feels to be continuously bothered by the things that you see, and all the things that you associate with it.
People do say it's good to be in touch with your feelings. Ideally, that means you know when you have crossed the line, and when you have disregarded all those warnings of you crossing the line. It also means you're able to relate to all those people that are in a somewhat similar place as you, or in a totally different one. I've used that thing to my advantage, as a means of self-gratification whenever people come to me and ask for advice about things that I have never experienced before, and probably never will. Still, it amazes me that I have an answer to their ramblings - when it's time to give up, or when it's time to give in.
The same people also say that sensitivity is a good thing. I may lose in this regard - I am tactless in some spots, after all - but I occasionally choose to think of myself as someone who's in a position to sympathize with people that I choose to sympathize with. Just tell me the story, and I'll probably figure it out; tell me a few more details, and I'll most probably have an opinion about it. The biggest downside, however, lies in sensitivity itself, or better yet, me getting so affected by things that it stops me from working in the most severe of cases.
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People do say it's good to be in touch with your feelings. Ideally, that means you know when you have crossed the line, and when you have disregarded all those warnings of you crossing the line. It also means you're able to relate to all those people that are in a somewhat similar place as you, or in a totally different one. I've used that thing to my advantage, as a means of self-gratification whenever people come to me and ask for advice about things that I have never experienced before, and probably never will. Still, it amazes me that I have an answer to their ramblings - when it's time to give up, or when it's time to give in.
The same people also say that sensitivity is a good thing. I may lose in this regard - I am tactless in some spots, after all - but I occasionally choose to think of myself as someone who's in a position to sympathize with people that I choose to sympathize with. Just tell me the story, and I'll probably figure it out; tell me a few more details, and I'll most probably have an opinion about it. The biggest downside, however, lies in sensitivity itself, or better yet, me getting so affected by things that it stops me from working in the most severe of cases.
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11/10/2008
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"This term is probably my laziest term," an overslept Zet declared.
"Bad, bad," I answered. "Is it the romance, or the workload?"
"No," she answered. "I've had the romance since last term. It's just the season and the courses."
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"Bad, bad," I answered. "Is it the romance, or the workload?"
"No," she answered. "I've had the romance since last term. It's just the season and the courses."
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11/09/2008
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Somewhere in the depths of cyberspace, a stupid photo is lurking. It may seem harmless, but so many questions come to mind upon seeing it, and perhaps doing a little more research. What are two people doing in a convenience store, taking a photo of their reflections on a mirror? Why are these two people, who only met that night, taking such a photo?
And why is one of them seemingly fascinated by it? To be exact, "parang nasa loob tayo ng spaceship."
To make matters more complicated, Elaine was one of those people who collided on my path because of the seemingly small world I revolved in. There are the many common friends, mostly the folks from GMG who seem to stick to each other like magnets in a field. It was the opening night for last year's Cinemalaya film festival, and I was there to watch Foster Child (and perhaps do some celebrity spotting). There was this girl from the lower batch who came up to me - well, not exactly, since Clarence did the networking - who was asking for help for a reaction paper she was working on. Conveniently, she was taking the same Las Piñas bus that I took, so with a bunch of people sticking together like magnets in a field, we exchanged numbers and vowed to do business, not realizing that I already was smitten for her before.
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And why is one of them seemingly fascinated by it? To be exact, "parang nasa loob tayo ng spaceship."
To make matters more complicated, Elaine was one of those people who collided on my path because of the seemingly small world I revolved in. There are the many common friends, mostly the folks from GMG who seem to stick to each other like magnets in a field. It was the opening night for last year's Cinemalaya film festival, and I was there to watch Foster Child (and perhaps do some celebrity spotting). There was this girl from the lower batch who came up to me - well, not exactly, since Clarence did the networking - who was asking for help for a reaction paper she was working on. Conveniently, she was taking the same Las Piñas bus that I took, so with a bunch of people sticking together like magnets in a field, we exchanged numbers and vowed to do business, not realizing that I already was smitten for her before.
Read more »
11/08/2008
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I usually leave the office at fifteen minutes past six and, regardless of whether I'm going home by myself or with my dad, I end up half-sleeping on the way. Nine (or ten, as it usually goes) hours staring at the monitor reading stuff is a strain on my already strained eyes, and the conversations (or the lack of it) that goes in between just sweetens the deal between me and the Sandman.
Last night, though, I was wide awake. I ended up being witness to the unbearable traffic at Shaw Boulevard, the surprisingly bearable traffic at the South Luzon Expressway, and to one of the passengers dropping off a mile away from where she was supposed to drop off. It never happened in a while, but I didn't feel the need to forget what just happened. I think I was slightly delirious, even.
After yesterday's events, I was still averse to the idea of actually crediting their sudden, err, niceness for my sunny disposition. But that's what I got. It's exactly what Jenn told me a few weeks ago, during one of those I-want-to-go bouts that affect my workday: "It's supposed to be two-way." It's still early days, but finally I felt a sliver of comfort in the people that spend their days doing basically the same things I do. Obviously I still don't know whether it'll last for a while - my cynicism still gets the better of me - but there's a reason why Valerie and I chatted last night. That won't just happen.
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Last night, though, I was wide awake. I ended up being witness to the unbearable traffic at Shaw Boulevard, the surprisingly bearable traffic at the South Luzon Expressway, and to one of the passengers dropping off a mile away from where she was supposed to drop off. It never happened in a while, but I didn't feel the need to forget what just happened. I think I was slightly delirious, even.
After yesterday's events, I was still averse to the idea of actually crediting their sudden, err, niceness for my sunny disposition. But that's what I got. It's exactly what Jenn told me a few weeks ago, during one of those I-want-to-go bouts that affect my workday: "It's supposed to be two-way." It's still early days, but finally I felt a sliver of comfort in the people that spend their days doing basically the same things I do. Obviously I still don't know whether it'll last for a while - my cynicism still gets the better of me - but there's a reason why Valerie and I chatted last night. That won't just happen.
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11/07/2008
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"Did you discuss Valerie's last day?" a late Miss Abi asked me as she entered the conference room.
"No, not yet," I whispered, mindful that the folks at Seattle were talking to Glenn.
It was her second to the last day, and like with everything else, resignations such as this come by without anybody noticing. I still don't know what happened to Kata, the one who inadvertently passed off as sarcastic when she said "yeah, right" at one conference call. My former boss also just disappeared, although I felt that I should stop sending emails at him because they were bouncing back at me before he actually left. Now, it's one of the five writers. And, as much as I appreciate the inkling of attention I get from her - something I barely get from the others - I didn't feel anything. One's the distance. The other's the fact that things like this come and go. You're not supposed to have a particular attachment to anything. Not now, not ever.
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"No, not yet," I whispered, mindful that the folks at Seattle were talking to Glenn.
It was her second to the last day, and like with everything else, resignations such as this come by without anybody noticing. I still don't know what happened to Kata, the one who inadvertently passed off as sarcastic when she said "yeah, right" at one conference call. My former boss also just disappeared, although I felt that I should stop sending emails at him because they were bouncing back at me before he actually left. Now, it's one of the five writers. And, as much as I appreciate the inkling of attention I get from her - something I barely get from the others - I didn't feel anything. One's the distance. The other's the fact that things like this come and go. You're not supposed to have a particular attachment to anything. Not now, not ever.
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11/05/2008
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Right now you're seeing these words. Black text against a white background, or a white box against an orange background. You see the scroll bar to your right, the mouse pointer at the lower-right corner, clicking for you to continue reading.
Close your eyes, and you see nothing.
Open your eyes, and continue reading. There's stuff that you wouldn't care about in the following lines. Or stuff that you wouldn't understand. Or stuff that you entirely disagree with, which leads you to think about how to rebut these words.
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Close your eyes, and you see nothing.
Open your eyes, and continue reading. There's stuff that you wouldn't care about in the following lines. Or stuff that you wouldn't understand. Or stuff that you entirely disagree with, which leads you to think about how to rebut these words.
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11/03/2008
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"Probably I'm not appealing compared to others," Niña pointed out. "And besides, masyado pang maaga for that. I wouldn't want to waste my time cuddling with someone!"
"But people approach you?" I asked. "I mean, may nahihiya at may walang hiya."
"Yeah," she hesitated. "Like, four na silang nag-tangka. And ngayon, may stupid stalker pa ako."
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"But people approach you?" I asked. "I mean, may nahihiya at may walang hiya."
"Yeah," she hesitated. "Like, four na silang nag-tangka. And ngayon, may stupid stalker pa ako."
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11/02/2008
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"I'm barely inspired. I don't get why crushes are inspirations. Inspire to what?"
"I have no idea."
"See? I am actually annoyed, but more because I am still around to feel the presence."
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"I have no idea."
"See? I am actually annoyed, but more because I am still around to feel the presence."
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11/01/2008
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Ah, the things that happen with silence. Your innocence will leave you deranged soon.
Sometimes you just have so much pent up inside you, that you end up doing things with such a passion without understanding why it deserved such treatment anyway. You pick up one thing that just start banging on the keyboard, and you see all those words fly from your fingers to the screen, and you're thinking, man, I am in my element today! And then it gets longer, and longer, and before you know it, you've done much more than they actually require you to do. In other words, it's what I told Carmel a few days ago: "I think I overwrote an article." Seven hundred words of nothing.
My officemates call me "the Flash." Well, a disclaimer is in order: none of my co-writers call me that. Of course, we are a big bunch of outsourced employees, and most of them can't help but notice how fast I apparently walk, which I (on the other hand) think is my usual speed. Maybe it's my inherent hyperactivity, but sometimes that speed comes to good use. In my case, it only happened once, when I found myself running out of the conference room - in the middle of a conference call - when Neobie realized she didn't have her notebook with her.
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Sometimes you just have so much pent up inside you, that you end up doing things with such a passion without understanding why it deserved such treatment anyway. You pick up one thing that just start banging on the keyboard, and you see all those words fly from your fingers to the screen, and you're thinking, man, I am in my element today! And then it gets longer, and longer, and before you know it, you've done much more than they actually require you to do. In other words, it's what I told Carmel a few days ago: "I think I overwrote an article." Seven hundred words of nothing.
My officemates call me "the Flash." Well, a disclaimer is in order: none of my co-writers call me that. Of course, we are a big bunch of outsourced employees, and most of them can't help but notice how fast I apparently walk, which I (on the other hand) think is my usual speed. Maybe it's my inherent hyperactivity, but sometimes that speed comes to good use. In my case, it only happened once, when I found myself running out of the conference room - in the middle of a conference call - when Neobie realized she didn't have her notebook with her.
Read more »
Niko Batallones writes The Upper Blog.
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