The other day, I complained to a friend of how bored I was: it was Maundy Thursday at my parent’s place in Meycauayan and I had nothing to do. I had just finished watching the entire Initial D anime series (including the Extra Stage OVA where I got to see Mako and Sayuki’s boobs) and I had become tired of reading Book One of Raymond E. Feist’s Serpentwar Saga.
I have always hated this time of the year: there is nothing interesting on free TV (apart from 7th Heaven marathons, Eat Bulaga drama specials, and an nth airing of The Ten Commandments) and there isn’t a drop of alcohol in sight. I don’t really care about what other people say, about how Holy Week should be spent in reflection and introspection: hell, I’ve already spent most of the first quarter of the year pondering on life’s whys and what-ifs, and I’ve become bone-tired of doing it. I even planned to write something about my thirtieth birthday and my Camotes trip two weeks ago, but either I have become too lazy to do it, or I simply forgot what I wanted to say. Right now, I just want to live life one day at a time, not to dwell too much on the past, and not to think so much about the uncertain future.
I was lying in bed early this morning, sleep has evaded me, and I could not think of anything worth doing (I had just finished Book One of Serpentwar), when I saw the shoebox which contained some of my old pictures. I thought, what the heck, what have I to lose? So I looked at pictures of my youth: my Pisay friends, my brods, my college blockmates, my good, old friends, people I’ve become close to and I’ve let go of, past crushes, past loves. There were pictures of me at different stages of my life: the “Gengis Khan” me, the long-haired me, the fat me, the uglier me, the fratman me, the angry me.
It was not the first time I looked at those pictures, but it was the first time those pictures made me see who I was before and how different that person is to who I am now. I remembered the mistakes I’ve made in the past and how those mistakes changed my life. Seeing friends that I have lost made me better appreciate and value the friends I have now. Those pictures made me see that despite my bitching about how old I am and about how I do not have anything to show for my age, I do have a lot to be thankful for.
I have lived a full and colorful life. Though I’m not as rich or as accomplished as some my peers, I am satisfied with what I’ve achieved. And most importantly, perhaps, even if I’m “alone”, I have family and friends (especially Mabs and Nicole) who make me happy.
But enough of this emote crap (lest people say that I’m becoming a girl again)! Bring on the beer!
I have always hated this time of the year: there is nothing interesting on free TV (apart from 7th Heaven marathons, Eat Bulaga drama specials, and an nth airing of The Ten Commandments) and there isn’t a drop of alcohol in sight. I don’t really care about what other people say, about how Holy Week should be spent in reflection and introspection: hell, I’ve already spent most of the first quarter of the year pondering on life’s whys and what-ifs, and I’ve become bone-tired of doing it. I even planned to write something about my thirtieth birthday and my Camotes trip two weeks ago, but either I have become too lazy to do it, or I simply forgot what I wanted to say. Right now, I just want to live life one day at a time, not to dwell too much on the past, and not to think so much about the uncertain future.
I was lying in bed early this morning, sleep has evaded me, and I could not think of anything worth doing (I had just finished Book One of Serpentwar), when I saw the shoebox which contained some of my old pictures. I thought, what the heck, what have I to lose? So I looked at pictures of my youth: my Pisay friends, my brods, my college blockmates, my good, old friends, people I’ve become close to and I’ve let go of, past crushes, past loves. There were pictures of me at different stages of my life: the “Gengis Khan” me, the long-haired me, the fat me, the uglier me, the fratman me, the angry me.
It was not the first time I looked at those pictures, but it was the first time those pictures made me see who I was before and how different that person is to who I am now. I remembered the mistakes I’ve made in the past and how those mistakes changed my life. Seeing friends that I have lost made me better appreciate and value the friends I have now. Those pictures made me see that despite my bitching about how old I am and about how I do not have anything to show for my age, I do have a lot to be thankful for.
I have lived a full and colorful life. Though I’m not as rich or as accomplished as some my peers, I am satisfied with what I’ve achieved. And most importantly, perhaps, even if I’m “alone”, I have family and friends (especially Mabs and Nicole) who make me happy.
But enough of this emote crap (lest people say that I’m becoming a girl again)! Bring on the beer!
***
My good friend, Anton, and his girlfriend Charm, are leaving for Singapore next week. They are staying there for a couple of years to work. Bon voyage and good luck, dude!
