These are the top 10 things that I hate. Well, maybe hate is too strong a word. More like, 'really intensely dislike.' But first, an honorable mention: unimaginative song covers!
As for the rest ...
10. Women wearing skimpy outfits who keep on tugging at their clothes to hide body parts that wouldn't have been exposed if only they had worn more sensible clothes in the first place.
9. Ordering food at a restaurant, waiting for it, and only then being told that it's unavailable.
8. Waiters (food servers my ass!) who assume that I want to be friendly with them and act all chummy with me.
7. Having to be told the entire bleeding epic just to hear the itsy-bitsy point that's being made.
6. People who don't put their spoons and forks together after eating.
5. Menu changes at my favorite restaurants.
4. Bad english.
3. Being told I have no more options. When I'm dead I have no more options. Not now.
2. Stairs.
And the number one thing I really intensely dislike ...
1. SWEAT!
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Right. I know I said I had to get my mind of this
girl. And I know that
wasn't spectacularly succesful at it. I thought that things would get better over time - and it has been some time - but things haven't improved. If anything, they seem to have gotten worse.
I wonder what it is about her that moves me. Is it the gentleness I see in her eyes? Or maybe the eloquence of her long silences? I wonder if I am drawn to her for her unexpected outbursts of anger or frustration when she opens up a window into the raw majesty of who she is beneath that subtle smile. Many times I have sought the company of other people, only to find that their conversation seems painfully irrelevant. And though I spend less time with her than I should want, I feel there is a greater a depth of meaning to be had from those moments compared to the hours of tedium I spend with others.
Some people want like a candle flame - flickering and inconstant, wavering before the slightest breeze. Some people want like a forest fire. Right now, I'm somewhere between the two in my wanting her. Like a bonfire maybe. Strong enough to be a beacon on a dark night, but still within my power to douse. If I wanted to. Which I'm not sure I do. The only thing I'm sure of, is that I'm glad she doesn't know.
I'm glad she doesn't know.
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I want to write a vampire story and screenplay for Anne Curtis. For some strange reason, I get that sort of vibe from her.
I want to write the great Filipino novel of the 21st century. It'll involve a cabez de barangay who lost the family fortune on a single throw of loaded dice, the second world war, a recipe for ketchup soup, tubercolosis, a second wife, a spectacular run for public office, a return to true love, a recipe for itlog-na-maalat soup, and a conversation between Mr.Spock and Galadriel.
I want to learn enough about web administration so I can creditably administer my own domain.
I want to watch the Beijing Olympics in Beijing.
I want to have a conversation with the Dalai Lama.
I want to open up a chain of community barbershops where people can sit around all day, talking about inconsequential things that would never shake the counsels of the wise and powerful.
I want to open up a half-way house for people from my hometown who have fallen on hard times here in Manila.
I want to build a three-story house where my room will have two outward facing glass walls.
I want you to change your mind.
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I went off to do some grown-up thing or other, but at the back of my mind, I was always thinking of you; wondering where
you were, wondering what you were doing, and envying the eyes that gazed on you.
But, for the second time, I am back, my beautiful black blog. With no more excuses and a promise to tickle the keyboard for you more often. I have a lot to tell you.
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: 8:48 AM