life and flowers

Before June gives way to July, let's say I'm a brand new 41. The good thing in hindsight about embracing old age is that every one of my contemporaries are on the same fabulous boat. I'm as old as my classmates in high school.

At this age, my wrist joints are not that fab though. I have to see a doctor. And the essays showered a deflating annoyance on my birthday do, I wasn't able to prepare well. I'll try to be smiling in the next few days.

for the love of piaya

thanks gigi! bong-bong's.
taste of home.

wanna scream, really scream

It's just hard. No matter what I do it's just way too difficult. I couldn't find the strength and the skills to write my assignment. How do you analyse a simple task replete with all the references? To some it's easy-peasy. But I'm struggling.

June is my favourite month. My birthday falls on Saturday. So it's like the solstice birthday. Then it's all downhill after the 21st. It's going to be darker and darker until we're back to the winter solstice. But now, I can't bask on the glory of light, I have an assignment.

a sense of quiet for the collective words

Silence is the word. In order to write a paragraph of gravitas, I probably need silence. But since my kid is growing up, the focus is on her; her food, clothes, shoes, toys, lessons in manners, etc.

I want to read, no matter how crappy the subject or article. I want to write, despite not being alone. Solitude is my key to happiness. I want to cook and bake, just to be creative. I want to crochet to be crafty. It's all what I want, there's no giving back? I try to be kind and nice. I really do. I've never walked the path of bitchiness, the husband equates that to being a pushover. There are a lot of souls who have such huge barks. They speak in loudspeakers and the noise emanating is hollow and empty.

Nonetheless, we can choose. We can choose our friends. We can choose whom to invite into our lives, or to get-togethers. We can choose the people in our birthday card list. I have that list actually. Not all believe in Christmas but they believe in birthdays.

folding then essay

Essays. Essays. If only technology came much, much earlier than 1995. If only my parents had more insight into handling the family's finances better to nurture my affinity to write. By technology, I mean Windows '95 and its user interface for the mass market and I've already finished my formal education. It has been twenty years since graduation. I'm aware I rattle and I drool when talking about computers. But as a youngster, by merely thinking of typesetters or typewriters I was ecstatic. Even providing typewriters for their children's schoolwork, my parents could not afford or would rather use the money elsewhere. I was composing the harder, longer way. Now I'm writing this pice through my phone before even getting out of bed and I'll be writing my formal essays later on this medium as well, as I try to teach my little Chummy how to write her alphabet.

Essays are the way of life here in the Western Hemisphere. My schooling was more on rote memorisation, not constructing reflections and analyses. I would have relished the said process as an adolescent. Although I would entailed the use of eraser a lot (or use more paper) not utilising the very useful blinking cursor and ❎ key while deleting the previous thought, as I've been doing for almost a decade. Making mistakes with typewriters was even more time consuming and painful, think of broken nails and bleeding fingers.

Well, despite Course submissions and deadlines I still need to process my never-ending, back-breaking chores. Laundry here I come.