Thursday, October 27, 2011

Speech

Thursday, October 27, 2011

I don’t like speaking in public; it’s like performing for an audience who expect tricks or virtuosity that I do not possess. And in instances when I am cornered to do presentations I realize that I am constantly editing myself. It is easy to say that my profession as an editor makes such thing forgivable. It doesn’t. I have to learn how to say what I want to say in the exact way that I want to say it. 

Speech does not come as naturally to me as writing. The ideas in my head that I can effortlessly pour out through writing become fixed and motionless when verbalized. When I write I can always pause and think of the right words, alter them or turn them around in order to express myself perfectly. But when I speak there seems to be no time to gather my thoughts. I find myself starting to say a sentence and then revising it according to the principles of grammar and style and ending up making the entire sentence simply incomprehensible.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

El Misti

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

El Misti is a 5,822-meter (18,860 ft) volcano in Arequipa, Peru
I have never seen "Volcanoes" -- 
But, when Travellers tell 
How those old -- phlegmatic mountains 
Usually so still -- 

Bear within -- appalling Ordnance, 
Fire, and smoke, and gun, 
Taking Villages for breakfast, 
And appalling Men – 

~ Emily Dickinson

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Clouds of uncreativity

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

It seems that I cannot find the right frame of mind to write about the things that interest me. Just to get things moving, though, I made a list of those things: 
  1. Backpacker culture 
  2. Self-sabotage 
  3. My grandmother’s imperious wisdom 
  4. The lure of the wild 
  5. Resigned dread 
  6. Baja
  7. Rational madness 
  8. Accepting of contingency 
  9. Homilies about hope 
  10. Equivocation as a survival skill 
  11. False courtesy 
  12. Fluidity of desire 
These billowing clouds of uncreativity will soon clear.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Preferment

Thursday, October 20, 2011

I don’t want to turn into one of those people who bitch about their jobs every chance they got, or those who are so enslaved by their work that they thrive on stress and cannot imagine a world without it.  That is the reason why I fought hard to stay in the position that I am right now. I like my job as it is, and I love the freedom that goes with it.  But it’s now time to take on more challenges in life. It’s just plain stupid to prefer stagnation over advancement or to keep on declining something that will probably do me good.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Live More

Tuesday, October 18, 2011


I do not wish you much happiness—it will bore you. I do not wish you trouble either, but, following the philosophy of the peasant, I will repeat simply 'live more' and try not to be much bored; this useless wish I add from myself. Well, good-bye, and good-bye for good. Don't stand at my door, I will not open it. 

~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Demons (The Devils or The Possessed), 1872

Friday, October 14, 2011

I wonder what it would be like to travel alone

Friday, October 14, 2011

I have nine days of vacation leave left before Christmas break and I don’t how to spend them. It would be great if I could be on the road again, but there seems to be a dearth of travel companions these days. Climb mountains, walk for days and days, leave the comforts of home - those are the things that I want to do, but I don't know of anyone who would be willing (or able) to do those things with me.

I wonder what it would be like to travel alone. Will it be scary? Exciting? Lonesome? Or all those at the same time?

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Yearbook

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

It’s been 12 years since we graduated from college, yet the yearbook that’s supposed to capture our college experience remains to be an idea, a wish, a topic of conversation. Some paid for the yearbook, some did not, some got their payments back, but we don’t even have complete records of who those people are. We don’t have our graduation pictures any longer. And we don’t even look like those pictures anymore! Some say that the yearbook’s been printed and delivered, but nobody has seen a copy of it, if there ever was one. And it’s only now that the batch has started digging up the facts. 

As part of the editorial team, I am also to blame for the whole fuck up. But as part of the entire graduating class, everybody is to blame for what happened. We never cared enough to finish the yearbook before we graduated and start building our lives outside the university. And if we did not care enough before, do we—or could we--care enough now? Years have passed, everybody has changed. We cannot even remember what happened then. Can we, as a batch, put together a 12-year old yearbook from scratch? What’s the point? Should we still? Perhaps, out of principle, we should. 

I was one among those who cannot afford to pay for the yearbook then. I didn’t mind because the idea of a yearbook seems like a lot of nonsense to me, expensive nonsense at that. But through the years that yearbook has become more meaningful because its nonexistence reflects our nostalgic yearning for those carefree days in school.

Monday, October 10, 2011

Winter is coming

Monday, October 10, 2011

Spending the entire Saturday glued to a computer monitor sounds like such a waste of time. But as we sat spellbound by the world of Westeros in the first season of Game of Thrones, my brother and I paid no heed to the ticking of the clock.  We were having too much of a great time to notice how we’ve been squandering the day away.  Oblivious to everything else, we knew only that winter is coming and we have to be there when it arrives.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

Her Femaleness

Thursday, October 6, 2011


An all-containing will in her for complete independence, complete social independence, complete independence from any personal authority, kept her dullishly at her studies. For she knew that she had always her price of ransom—her femaleness. She was always a woman, and what she could not get because she was a human being, fellow to the rest of mankind, she would get because she was a female, other than the man. In her femaleness she felt a secret riches, a reserve, she had always the price of freedom. 
( D.H. Lawrence, The Rainbow, 1915)

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Unmoved

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

The blues usually set in this time of the year. Yet, surprisingly, I remain unmoved by the lure of the dark depths. As the holidays draw near I hope this resistance would hold. It will be the first time if it does.
 
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