My future

I think I have figured out something I might want to do as a career: make documentaries. I never did get to continue making that isaw documentary with my friend, Maui–actually, I haven’t really hung out with him since then. But anyway, the memory of the first time I held a camera came back when I saw this documentary done by Probe on Jasmine Trias. The whole interview thing is actually not my type; I’d much rather be an observer and record life as it happens. But yeah…I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take classes on this and minor in Communications.

I’m not yet entirely sure if this is what I want to do after college, but it’s at least something I can picture myself doing. I mean, I can’t imagine me in some stuffy office trying to come up with a statement that will make bad coffee sound like a good buy. Or go to Makati everyday in trendy office-wear (*shudder*) so I can show up for some meaningless job that involves being ordered around by some boss. What I love most about documentaries is that they can be as honest as the filmmaker wants it to be, and I don’t know about the others but I will show things as they are.

Well, I suppose it’s back to studying for Economics now. I don’t mind Eco much, except that graphs and diagrams are the death of me.

Lightning and loneliness

I spent a good fifteen or twenty minutes sitting behind the garage, watching lightning light up the cloudy sky. Every now and then, a lightning bolt would appear–short at first, and then it grows longer, lighting up the darkness for a split second or two. Everything goes black, then the lightning comes back. And everything becomes brighter. It’s one of the coolest thing I have ever seen.

——

I keep getting these recurring dreams about my high school batchmates. Nightmares would actually be a more appropriate term. The situation dreams change, but the central theme remains: loneliness. Isolation. In every dream we have a reunion, or I’m somehow stuck with my batchmates in a certain place. Nobody talks to me and I feel stupid. Well, stupid would be an incorrect term, but I get that feeling because I shouldn’t even be there but I am.

It’s not that I’m over my past. I am. But what bothers me most about my dreams is that it tells something about me that I’ve been denying for the longest time. It’s that, in spite of the people I go around with at school, and underneath the photogenic smile, I am the loneliest person I know.

Now that’s something I need to deal with. Because if I don’t, I’m liable to drink sand in the desert. And I don’t want that.

——

Philosophical musing for today (something I learned from Sophie’s World by Jostein Gaarder):

Did you know that when you look at the stars in the sky, you are actually looking back in time? The universe is vast beyond comprehension and the distance between the earth and the stars is so great, they are measured in light-minutes and light-years. A light-minute is the measurement of the distance light travels in one minute. Light travels through space at 300,000 kilometers a second. A light-minute, therefore, is 18 million kilometers. One light-year is approximately around ten trillion kilometers.
Continue reading »

Aiiiiieeeeeee!!

I spent a good chunk of an hour painting my toenails pink. Yes, I was that bored. A manicurista could have done a better job, but let’s just say that it’s because I haven’t done this since first year high school. ;p

Yesterday evening, an old friend suddenly dropped by my house to just hang out and talk. I wasn’t actually in the mood to receive any company at that time but then I thought, what the hell, he’s already here. Anyway, the talk did me a bit of good because it’s been two days since I had a conversation with anyone and even I can’t go for long without human contact. I’m just glad that my friend already knows what he wants to do with his life and is determined to make that happened. It’s a small step, but a good one. The hardest part is not knowing what you want–it’s actually doing what you want. And the reason why so many people are unhappy is because they’ve lived out their lives forgetting themselves because they feel obligated to do things other people expect of them. It’s sad, but I guess they just don’t know any better. Funny how I’m preaching out about people not doing what they want when I don’t even know what I want to do with my life.

——–

I never realized how much comfort and security the scent of Baygon gives me. Yes, Baygon. As in the roach killer. Just when I was typing my musings about happiness, I saw, from the corner of my eye, one of the most disgusting creatures known to man scurrying up the books on the shelf above the computer. Upon seeing this, I let out one of my infamous, glass-shattering shrieks. “Aiiiiieeeeeee!!” Thinking I was being murdered, my dad rushed out of the room, his face contorted with worry. “What’s wrong?” he demanded. I shrank on my seat and pointed a shaky finger at the bookshelf. “Cockroach!!”

“Well don’t just sit there, go get the Baygon!”

I jumped up from my seat and ran to the bathroom to get the said insect killer. I burst back in the room, holding the cylinder in front of me, like a weapon. I pointed the nozzle at the thing. “Die, bitch!”

But before I could deliver the killing blow (err, spray), my dad snatched the Baygon away from me. “Let me do it.” He then sprayed enough Baygon to kill the offending creature. Or so I thought. To my horror, the stupid thing dropped down from the shelf, onto the computer table, then finally on the ground. Dad sprayed at it with more Baygon with me still squealing in the background.

“Is it dead? Is it dead?” I asked fearfully.

Dad pointed at the cockroach on the floor. It was on its back with its legs wiggling in the air. “See the bubbles on its body? The pesticide is eating it alive.”

I squatted on the floor and watched the cockroach’s death with childish fascination. Eaten alive by acid (or whatever ingredients Baygon is made of). A slow death for the most detestable insect on earth.

Relieved that the roach is dying, I went back to the computer to resume what I was writing. But just when I thought it was over, I felt something crawling up my leg. I looked down and saw the most terrifying sight known to me: a cockroach scurrying up my leg!

I let out another long shriek and ran to my parents’ bedroom like a child. “Cockroach! Cockroach!” I wailed.

Dad to the rescue! He got the Baygon and started spraying like mad.

It’s apparantly cockroach mating season, which explains why there are so many of them out right now. God knows when that will be over, but till then–I will always sit at the computer table with my feet raised.