I wish I had learned to love to read. This was one of my most hated truths about myself. Actually, I think it’s my only hated truth. Well, at the very least, until I uncover some new ones… but i digress. I think that loving to read would’ve been fucking awesome. Like Thrift Store awesome.
There is absolutely no way to deny it. You are poor. Face it, at this point, you’re realizing what a terrible mistake you’ve made moving out of your parent’s home, out of the assurance of home cooked meals, hot water, above average broadband connection, and of course, what every homeowner dreams of… “Free utilities” (In quotation marks because, let’s be truthful… there really is no such thing as FREE utilities).
Being in your mid-20s has nothing to do with how old you are. The Mid-20s is a state of mind that, unfortunately, I cannot properly define. All I know is, there are certain things that will show that you’re actually in this period in your life. Its fucking confusing, and a drag, but, if met with proper preparations… it’ll be a little less of those things.
Here are a few things to keep in mind:
Stumbled upon this little online article from UK’s The Standard. Pretty embarrassing stuff, if you ask me. I love my country, I love it to hell, and back. But sometimes, I just wanna fucking choke the life out if, y’know? Kinda like a cute puppy you wanna hug SO HARD but you’re just scared you might kill it (a bit morbid, I know… I’m sorry). But then again, what can I do? I am but one person. Out of a staggering 90+million around the world. What can I do? What can any of us do? Run for office? Nah. Too expensive. Bitch online? Yeah… but really, these dudes have the thickest skins… that won’t do much. I wish there was, at least, one thing we, as a people can do. Something we’re really good at, something inherent/intrinsic..maybe, even, innate, to us…
Oh. Yeah.. Make do. Persevere. Survive.
So…How do we do this? Easy.
Just read my previous post. What the fuck was I saying. I’m sorry.
Fear, I firmly believe is what keeps us grounded. Without it, we’d be headless chickens trying to put our chicken cocks in some chicken pussies (forgive my crassness, i seldom have no class, but I digress. I believe in fear, simply because I am experiencing it right now.
I know it’s been a while since I last wrote something substantial, and not useless on this thing. Believe it or not, that’s actually one of the reasons why I started this “blog”: I wanna write about something that is useful, opinionated, and not stupid. If you know me, then you know I say a lot of stupid things (jokes, crack-ups, false anecdotes, etc.). However, what substantial thing I always say, I leave for my writings.
So I guess you could say that this is one of them. This entry is about why I think we suck as a people. You may like it, or you may hate it… but the beauty of it is that I told you what this would be about, even before you read… so basically you have the option to not read it. So, there you go.
Ashamed as I am to admit this, I, a Filipino of 23 years, a valid driver’s license holder of, give or take, 5 years, have never been to the depths of Old Manila on my own free will (well except for the times I would go there with my parents when I was young, and that one time I had to go to Quiapo to get my NBI Clearance). It’s an embarrassing thing to come clean with, but it has to happen. I don’t know why I have never been there. Perhaps it was the non-availability of time, or the daunting task of driving Manila’s sacred esquinitas, and having to look for parking, or just the plain fact that going there never really crossed my mind…the bottom-line is, I have never truly savored the culture Old Manila has to offer… well, until May 19, 2011.
I’ve always been a staunch supporter of going places to get a massage, call me old-fashioned, but thats just the way I believed it should be. Key word: Believed. Thanks to my intense laziness, i was forced to, for the very first time, try out a home massage service. And let me tell you, it was awesome. Cheap, efficient, and afterwards, i could just lay there and sleep for hours without anyone waking me up and saying, “Sir…time to go na po”. Boom.