Randomosity

Am I not enough? Why must you put me down like this?

I've put up with your trampling for so long. I let it go, because I know it makes you happy, but happiness or not, this is the final straw. I've held it in, but now I feel I have to say something.

I do not know what I did to deserve this condescension, this patronization.

I mean, imagine.

To name this other fruit a grapefruit?

AM I NOT A FRUIT?

AM I NOT?

MUST YOU BELITTLE ME LIKE THIS?

See if I give YOU any more wine.

- Grape


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The night has fallen, and a quiet hush pervades.

I am the only one awake,
    My face lit by the glow of my computer screen.

I type.
    I type.
       I type
          without thinking.

I let the words flow
    from brain
    to fingers
    to keys
    to screen.

The world is asleep.

The night has long gone.
Morning is coming.
    But the sunrise is still far away.

The darkness reigns.
    The silence.
    The stillness.

Until my father lets one rip.


------------------


I'm a little teapot, short and stout.
Here is my handle,
And here is my spout.

:>

(Oh, please, DO continue the rhyme. Hee. Hee.)


------------------


I like notebooks. I buy them compulsively. Some with a specific purpose in mind, and some because.. because I just like notebooks.

But the problem with these notebooks is, they pile up at home. Unused.

I mean, I know what I want to use them for, I just can't find anything proper to write on the first page that will do justice to the rest of the notebook.

I'm not artistic. I can't draw. So that's out.

Writing my name on it is just boring.
(And writing "Mikli's Fun Blah Notebook" is just.. weird, and off-putting.)

But I want something that summarizes the notebook, while giving it space to do its own thing. Letting it grow, without limiting its potential, but something that still gives it its purpose and meaning. Something like that.

But I can't think of anything.

That's why they pile up at home. Unused.

So I say --
SCREW THE FIRST PAGE!
TEAR OUT PAGE 1!

And finally start writing.

Duwende

I was around six when my yaya and I watched a TV Patrol special on people who have crossed paths with duwendes and suffered their wrath. It was not a pretty sight: one guy's tongue had swollen to the size of his fist, and the other was speaking in tongues at an octave level akin to that of a dolphin's. Or Mariah Carey.

Because that show scared the daylights out of me, my yaya, ever so vigilant, gave me two rules to live by if I did not want to end up like ... them.

First, I am not to say the word duwende or any of its derivatives aloud. Ever.
And second, the ground, the dirt, the soil, and what-have-you are always risky territory. Take extra care not to step on any duwendes while walking around.

Unfortunately for me, they did nothing to quell my already overwhelming fear . Not only did I have to watch my mouth, I'd have to watch my step -- for invisible little people! How was I supposed to do that?

That night, before bed, my mom read me a poem about leprechauns. Leprechauns! I was distraught! We're not allowed to say that word!

The following night, in bed, I complained of a "weird stomach" to my parents. That "weird stomach" of mine continued throughout the night, convincing my parents to bring me to the emergency room, just to be sure.

It turned out, I had a burning fever of 41 degrees.

... Hm.

Inspiration.

I need some.

I'm not abandoning this;

I just need something to write about.

I'm in San Francisco, and we've been walking around, up and down the hills.
I went to Vegas last week, and aside from my skin mimicking the dryness of the desert, we've been walking around the strip.

I haven't been anywhere else, but all I've been doing is walking around.

And, I've been walking around.




Maybe I'll write a eulogy for my feet.

(But not now. I'm cuddling with the cat.)

Hardcore.

Me, I like Math. It's actually one of my favorite subjects.

I agree with mother; it is a language. And once you've learned it, you're set. It's logical, it's flowing, and it makes sense.

Say, for example, word problems. I've always enjoyed them. They were always like puzzles to me, with translation as the first step. I get this sense of accomplishment writing down the equation as I read the problem. Then after that, it's a regular equation again, there for the taking.

Or Geometry. I liked Geometry a lot. I hardly had to memorize anything, because I understood what it was about. Perhaps seeing the figures helps, as I consider myself a pretty visual person. I also enjoyed proving, because again, it was like a puzzle, even moreso than word problems. I look at the figure and try to figure out the basic idea of what I have to do (e.g. prove this is congruent, so that these are congruent, therefore making these equal -- TAHDAH!) and then flesh it out. Fun, and I mean this with no sarcasm whatsoever.

But as much as I like math...



Getting a tattoo of the Pythagorean Theorem is just too hardcore for me.

Dugong Maharlika

Nobody tagged me. I just stole it off Iana. Whose blog address I did not notice, but I realized, bears quite a resemblance to mine. (Our blog names have been devoid of all similarity since I changed mine to Flabubulita.)

Post the rules:
*Each blogger starts with ten random facts/habits about themselves.
*Bloggers that are tagged need to write on their own blog about their ten things and post these rules.
*At the end of your blog, you need to choose ten people to get tagged and list their names.
*Don't forget to leave them a comment telling them they're tagged, and to read your blog.

[isa] I take weeks upon weeks to learn a piano piece. I quit when I was 10 and want to take lessons again, but now I'm getting by on my own, trying to teach myself. I can't put the right hand together with the left hand. I can play them separately well enough, but I do not have the coordination to put them together. So I cheat sometimes and play just the melody and the chords. In short, I am a frustrated piano player.

[dalawa] I am more fluent in Ilonggo than I am in Tagalog.

[tatlo] I don't get the full effect of 'overplayed' songs because, for some reason, the radio station that the car is tuned to plays only old-ish songs (Sometimes When We Touch in some other language, Alone 20 times a day, etc etc). So I do enjoy me some Soulja Boy and Low when they play.

[apat] I get cold really easily. My feet are always cold.

[lima] Lima. Lima. (Pronounced "Li-mah" and "Lahy-mah") One is a number. The other is a bean.

[anim] If you switch the M and the N, six becomes ours.

[pito] Yeah, I couldn't really think for those two. Anyway, I solved a Rubik's Cube for the first time in my entire life last Saturday. But it wasn't really a Rubik's Cube. It was a fake one from Greenhills.

[walo] I am right handed. I make 3/4 of the population. However, I, too, am special. I am the only right handed one among my siblings. Take that, Punnet Square.

[siyam] I sleep a lot. There hasn't been a day in the past.. month or so that I haven't taken a nap that has lasted for at least an hour and a half. I like sleeping. I really do. Especially now during the break.

[sampu] I never learned how to sleep with a stuffed toy because I couldn't stay hugging it for the whole night. And the things had faces. I didn't want to imagine them dangling at an unsettling angle off my bed. So I cuddle with pillows instead. They can fall for all I care.


I tag YOU.