ruminations

it's just relatively quiet contemplation. i've been trying to compose some poetry but it's mostly wishful ponderings. i worry more about the dusty carpet or the unwashed dishes in the sink. i have had no television except for a game and a half of the men's finals in wimbledon. i kept on downloading and downloading ysabella. JAS, in various manners, dissects my inner turmoil. i can't read a david sedaris in the new yorker as there's a father character. i did dip into a feature on e. buendia in that JAS cover and felt compelled to listen to pupil but ended up watching his "ages ago" interview on martin's show. i'll just request my bro to send me a CD or the likes. that's a better alternative to a compilation of the best of the sex bomb singers. thank goodness for you tube.

when the crowd hovering nearby says "move forward," i absorb it wholeheartedly but i still nudge back quite a lot. it's not about acceptance. when i see women parading their bumps, a mental image of painful afterthoughts flashes through the reels and i begin to bleed. there's a certain nuance on every individual. kindness and sensitivity are no ordinary traits. dousing in reticence, the preferred serenity is soothing my nerves. it's still the old me. though unruffled and hushed to reflection.

im back to old digs and bad habits and that includes trawling for korean stuff sans any tagalog dubbings. i read a lot of subtitles as part of my quirks. my mom used to read subtitles with me. dad watched all the tennis as i was hugging the tv. it's weird knowing i wouldn't be able to converse with dad. dad had his textures. his newsweek collection when i was 11 opened new vistas at odds with the preoccupation of present work associates. there's less complications in finding erudition in my school friends than the ones from the day job. there's more to life than gossips or james blunt's music. my snobbish side is in top speed when i check my site meter. i read verses from the good book as often as i could. it's kind of stinging when well-meaning acquaintances suddenly turn pious and lectures from convivial bliss or push me to bow me to the traditions of the housewife who never fails to prepare breakfast.

finishing up the docu on daniel, i can't understand a single word in the narration. daniel and his mom speaks english, so it's fine. learning a new language would require huge amount of effort.

with ikaruga on game cube in the background, it's time to tidy up the kitchen.