Of little nothings

So, this is nothing of great significance – just updates and thoughts, nothing crazy also – only plain and random.

I’ve read Paulo Coelho’s The Witch of Portobello. And I still can’t get over it. This just adds up to his stunning success. His words never seem to stop running in my head. Let it be an excuse not to concentrate on other things where my future lolls. And now I’m interested about gypsies.

I’m sad Bene and I weren’t able to catch The Simpsons last weekend. =’s

We bought sneakers though. Haha!

I’m addicted to Torano’s Italian Soda, the kiwi flavor. I go to Ristretto more often now, just to have a sip. Though it tasted better the first time I bought one. Now, half of the glass is filled with ice. Still, I love it. It’s like drinking jelly ace. Haha. But then, Ristretto cannot take Coffe Blends’ space in my heart. I’d still choose white choco frappe over kiwi soda. Yum.

I’ve been having complicated temperament and he’s the one who suffers all the time. Maybe I’m just being stressed out everyday. Maybe because I exhaust all the energy I have everyday. Whatever the cause is, it’s not intentional. And I’m lucky for he’s the most patient man I know.

Aside from those, nothing new happens. Everyday is just like all the other days. I’m still not Miss Bright, just the second-rate like I’ve been all my life. But I still get to find joy from ordinary things, and it still makes me feel alive.

Some other things in my head fled. Someone’s peeking(^-*)

I just wanted to say something.

I think I'm becoming less of a faddist. Is it a good thing? I'm not so sure. And I can't also tell if it's maturity.

Nonetheless, I'm taking time to know myself more.

Tangina!

Nawawala ang flashdisk ko! For the third time.

Nandun ang buhay ko!

Shit!

Now, it's frustrating.

If only I’ve read stacks, stacks, and more stacks of books when I was younger, then I’d probably be a way better writer today.

Excellent reading paves the way to excellent writing, I believe. Excellent reading matches up not only to the number of books one has read, but how one thinks critically, analyzing every word, phrase, sentence, and chapter. The writer does not give it all away. It’s like a secret ingredient of a recipe - what actually makes it taste exceptional is unknown. For what the writer, sometimes, tries to say lies beneath those words.

It’s depressing that children in this day and age lose interest in books. Xbox, online games, cell phones, and whatever technology introduces may be the grounds of their false acuities of what great literature is, and their unawareness to what literature brings. They might even just raise their eyebrows or put a frown on their faces when they hear Jane Austen, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Jonathan Swift, Edgar Allan Poe, Charles Dickens, Harper Lee, and other great classic authors, which some of whose works are made into films such as Pride and Prejudice. So it should be of no surprise if the generation after generation after ours becomes dumber.

Now that I’m expected to do tons of work every single day, I cannot put reading into place. My biggest adversary is time. Deadlines are villains that wouldn’t allow me to drink from these wellsprings of extra knowledge and eventually, wisdom. I thirst for literature but I can’t seem to find ways to load them up to fill the gaps in my head.

If only I could turn back time (what a chestnut!), I wouldn’t do much running and hopping in our backyard, I’d read more books - other than Sweet Valley Kids, or Goosebumps.

Then, I’d be probably writing this entry better.

I Have a Dream

I had this exercise in Devc70, which is Interpersonal Communication, and you probably know what this first exercise was all about.

And you guessed it right. The rule: know thyself first.

We were asked to make:
-a dreambook
-a composition of the 20 things we believe in
-a eulogy
-a list of ten things we want to do before we die plus explanations

In two hours, I was able to finish everything. After all, I am of the same opinion that people’s favorite topic is themselves. It’s so easy to talk about ourselves, and more than ease, we find gratification in doing so. So whoever says men aren’t naturally egocentric and self-interested didn’t probably have the same project.

Going back to my story, so it wasn’t as hard work as I thought. Then again, not everything put in there was known to me. Some things were just actually revealed while doing those outputs.

And one thing I really must dream about is becoming a writer. What kind?

Definitely not a novelist because I don’t write much of a plot, I can’t. If I’d be a novelist, I wouldn’t sell because when your literature teacher asks you to make a book review, then you couldn’t write of anything in the climax part, because really, there’s none.

I can’t also write poems. The creative juices flowing through my body is limited. They’re not meant to write rhymes, and, metaphors, and all those figures of speech.

Working in mainstream isn’t also an option. I couldn’t handle the pressure gracefully. I hate deadlines and a rushed work isn’t my advantage. Not to mention the pay.

Writing for fashion magazines isn’t also a good choice. Maybe I’m disposed to fashion and style, places to shop, places to be, beautiful people, and everything, no matter how lame they are, the generation demands. But I’m pretty sure my inclination to these contrived representations of the society wouldn’t last long. And when I’m old already, what would I know?

I want to write and at the same time, use the values I learn in Devcom. But I don’t dream of writing for community newspapers and translating scientific articles into popular writing.

And then…I have a dream – a dream that no matter how ‘dreamful’ is, would serve as a drive for me to work hard, give something I am and I have out.

Something developmental is what I want.

Someday, I’m going to produce a Philippine version of the Reader’s Digest.

That, is my biggest dream.

All successful men and women are big dreamers. They imagine what their future
could be, ideal in every respect, and then they work everyday toward their
distant vision, that goal or purpose. –Brian Tracy

Fitness First. Err. Fatness First.

For a week I’ve been trying to eat only these during lunch and dinner. Surprisingly, I never feel the need to shell off cash for a box of 6-pc nuggets or a cheeseburger meal. But on midnights, I find myself hitting upon something tasty and my roommate happens to have a big storage box -just about the size of my laundry box- of canned goods, noodles, biscuits, junks, and just about anything I would want to munch while going through my list of things-to-do-before-sleeping-that-shall-not-be-ignored. So there, I happily fill my stomach with whatever I feel, and wanting to discharge them after. No it’s not bulimia. Haha!

I’m not one of those girls who would starve to death to be stick-thin like those we see in ANTM, or just about anyone on tv. Sure, today’s clothes hang over girls like them, but I never want to be as scrawny and as bony. I just want to be fit and healthy.

But those kcal seem to show in every part of my body. I just need to shed off some pounds, maintain it, and work my body. I want to practice a healthy lifestyle.

So for a week or two, I’ll try to continue enjoying Nesvita yogurt (and a little bit of anything, remember, just a little bit) minus the delight midnight snacks bring.

Goodluck to me!

Suddenly, I was on blog-leave.

It wasn't on purpose, you see.

I didn't want to abandon my blogs. This solely is the reason why I kept on forgetting my old blogs, and making new ones.

Yet again, this blog defeats its purpose.

I want a blog that is breathing.

I don't want to make a new one. So dear blog, repeat after me.
Inhale, Inhale
Exhale, Exhale
Inhale, Inhale
Exhale, Exhale
Inhale, Inhale
Exhale, Exhale...

I'm trying.