Yay! It’s kind of weird that the SmartBro works in the cemetery but I’m not complaining! The internet gods finally listened to my prayers. I miss you Manila friends (and Riza).
Written: October 31, 2009 (canned/back-blog)
Hmm… I haven’t been writing lately for the following reasons: (1) I couldn’t post anything because Smart Bro sucks; (2) My witty writing river is stagnant so I wouldn’t have anything to post anyway (I left my inspiration back in Manila *wink*). But now here I am typing away as I wait for my friend to bring me to back to civilization for dinner.
I have been stuck in this “island” for three days (excluding the 9.5-hour road trip I had to take to get here) and so far I’ve done nothing except marvel at the big blue SM shoebox, the taxis that have invaded the city, House (c/o Jason—I want to speak in metaphors too), and the poltergeist in my room.
I’ve been forced to a detoxification of no technology whatsoever except for my trusty offline laptop and my crappy cellphone, both of which made me cling to my sanity.
What’s worse, I don’t even have anyone to empathize with because some of my friends and my siblings can no longer come. Stupid typhoon canceled their flights.
Okay, sorry I’m ranting. I need someone to slap me out of this spoiled brat stupor I’m in. Any volunteers? Crickets Croo Croo. I take silence as a no so allow me to complain for a few more paragraphs.
I realize that I have nothing else to complain about. Or maybe, I’ve squeezed the last drops of my writing mojo for the day. Hmm…
Last night, after watching the last episode of House Season 5, I was lying in my huge bed staring at the night light which is as bright as the overhead light which is as bright as sunlight (I hope by now you’ve deduced that my night light is incredibly bright). Anyway, that light serves as my garlic—it wards off the evil ghosts that run (float?) around my grandmother’s house. But it didn’t work last night. With the sound of the rain and wind, I heard footsteps plodding around my bedroom. I also heard plastic crumpling under my bed and when I bravely checked, there wasn’t anything—not even plastic. I finally got the nerve to stand up and get Choky to protect me but he was just staring in one direction, without so much as a blink. Either he’s asleep with his eyes wide open or he’s looking at something that’s not there.
But something is there. There’s a poltergeist in my room and I still have to sleep here for three more nights.
Insights from the South:
1. I’m not bummed because I’m in Bicol. I’m bummed because we’re not in our house.
2. If a house is not a home, what is a home? A. Is it where you’re sleeping? B. Is it where your friends and family are? C. Home is a psychological thing. D. I’m kinda clueless myself.
3. Dolls are insane and this particular one is haunting me.
It’s displayed on a shelf in my grandmammy’s room. It’s haunting me because I keep telling her to get rid of it.
4. I’m okay without my e-mail. Seeing the dozens of work mail everyday makes me tired. I just need IM. 😀