Puppetwithoutstrings

I have a bad habit. (No, not that. And not that either. Perhaps that, but that’s a topic for another day.)

I love books. I love reading them, studying them, just plain looking at them. I sometimes even like judging books by their cover. Its fun! Notice how all business books have such a corporate feel to them. As if the information could not be serious enough. Then there are the medical books that look so neat and clean as if you may get sick if a sentence was laid out crookedly. Yes, person suffers severe trauma due to mistake in grammar. News at 9.

Anyway, my problem is that I always run out of shelf space. I try arranging them by importance or by popularity and fail in the attempt. Each at the time purchased or acquired was worth the time taken to read. They may not all be popular, but they sure are bedside reading for me. Where else can you find GG Marquez right next to Roald Dahl? (By the way, in this discussion we will not even begin to speak of my comic collection. Yes, COMIC COLLECTION. Graphic novel or not, they are comics. Darn it, I learned to read Filipino because of a rag called Funny Komiks so there!)

If we are reflected in the books on our shelves, what would I be seen as?

Stuck in the past perhaps? (Rubicon by Tom Holland, a study in the rise and fall of the Roman republic.)

The hopeless romantic? (Bridget Jones’s Diary  by Helen Fielding, popular novel of female mis-adventures, made even more popular by movie of same title.)

Stuck in second childhood? (The BFG by Roald Dahl, strange tale of a young girl who finds out that giants are real. And they eat people. )

Guilty conscience? (Confessions of a Sinner by St Augustine, a dissertation of faith and moral conscience.)

Alcoholic. (The Sainsbury Book of Wine by C. Fielden, a book about… wine.)

Give me a month, a several more books will be added to the shelf. I will then struggle to find boxes to store a good number of them away, never to see the light of day until , as my father says, I end up with a library. But still I acquire.

Perhaps I have a disease. Or that I just love books. They smell brilliant. They are like old friends who wait patiently to be seen. What a nerd, eh? Such a liability, but perhaps a future investment.

Who am I kidding? I’m killing trees here! May be I should go into that e-books thing. But it just doesn’t feel the same. You can’t bring your PDA to the bathtub now can you?

I sometimes find these late shifts amusing. I guess this only applies to the winter months. In this industry (gambling for the ill-informed), this period is a lot quieter, which means most people would rather turn in early and close shop. I actually don’t mind covering the late shift. I get the work done early, i.e. any leftover software problems ad reports, and I get a whole night of free TV viewing. PAID!

I guess most people would prefer to have the whole evening free to indulge in the nightlife. Been there, done that and picked up the rediculously large tab. A couple of chapters nailed down from my latest carried novel, a few extra paragraphs written and more cash left over in my wallet. Shway!

I used to think I was lazy. Anybody who had me as a schoolmate can attest to how much of a slacker I was. I pretty much always had to make a mad dash a the finish just to get to the end. But I was wrong.

Maybe it’s Karma. I slacked off in school so in the workplace, I seem to catch the burden. Never thought I would fit into the stereotype Asian guy in the corner who kept the department running. Damn.

I should have just called in sick. Everybody else seemed to. I guess they will suddenly have a miraculous recovery, given they have the weekend off. Konting sipon lang, can’t get out of bed na!

Bad trip!

See here: sour graping person who is working over the weekend.

There is one thing I hate most about traveling the Philippine-Europe route. I get nosebleeds a lot. Actually, it starts there and I get the flu for a day or two. After that I’m fine. It’s like an automatic response when I cross Hemispheres, I start scrambling for tissue as I’m gushing and not in a good way.

MY mom likes to remind me of how sickly I was as a child. It wasn’t my fault really, I just got sick a lot. I was a high-risk baby. My mom was in and out of the hospital while she was carrying me. I guess it carried on from there. Calpol was always in the fridge and not a small bottle, but a large one, right next to the milk and orange juice. I got tonsillitis like clockwork, colds when it rained and was absolutely banned from staying out in the dust as I got rashes easily. This pretty much sucked as I loved playing outside, hated bringing umbrellas (why I kept on bringing one to this day is out of habit) and lived on a farm. Nowadays, I get sick about twice a year and usually use that quota early on in the year.

Except when I go on holiday. Ergo, now I feel terrible. How am I suppposed to lose the post holiday poundage when I am stuck in bed? Vicious cycle, I tell you.

Song playing in my head:

Minsan by Eraserheads.

This song is definitely in my top 10 OPMs. Just gets me thinking about old friends, those in contact with and those long since forgotten. I always find myself looking fondly and my yearbooks when I hear this song. When did you last see the people you called friends?

I guess it was about time to do this. I like to think I finish what I start. Why draw blood, only to faint at the very sight of it? Or in this case, why start a blog when you have no intention of keeping it up?

A good number of my dear friends made it clear that I had no reason to claim a hermit existence. Keeping people in the dark can only be accomplished by keeping in the shadows as well. Though romantic sometimes, such a condition borders on being rather peverse. As I have no intetion to build such a reputation, I deem it better I step back rather hastily into the sunlight.

To make things simpler… I’m back.

I guess the return back to the Philippines had truly great benefits, both physically (though I would rather the waistline be seen only as an unfortunate consequence) and emotional. Running away only brings you closer to that which you are trying to avoid… and in some cases, the very things you refuse to see.

I needed to be scolded by my friends for me to see that running wasn’t getting me anywhere. For that alone, I am grateful. Henceforth, I hope that this stage may not only serve as a forum for my thoughts, but serve as a window for those curious to see how my life is playing out now. And who knows, you may just see yourselves on stage, sharing what little spotlight there is.

So, till the next curtain call, I bid you all God bless and may in all our journeys, may we find that which we truly seek.