I was that hooman bean who played entire musicals on rotation, because, why not? And I remembered why I adore Ben Platt’s creamy voice and what I loved about Hamilton, although he was a douche. And the final song still resounds to me like a constant stab in my heart: “Who reads, who writes, who tells your story?”
To be honest, I don’t have a dazzling story to tell, regarding myself that is, but the people around me do, and the little details of their lives astound me like some great wonder (yes, I’m that person who has watched the same movie a dozen times and still makes the same, “Oh my God, oh my God???” and no, I’m not faking it; my brain gets constantly fascinated with the old and new). What I’m trying to say is, I’m the writer of this family, and nobody’s writing anybody else’s stories, so I would.
It’s Sunday — of course, by now it hardly mattered what day it is because every day felt like the same? — I have minutes to spare, I’ve replaced the chair that’s been breaking my back with a monobloc (I’m a simple human), and now, I’m typing along comfortably. No pressure. No stress. Things of the recent:
- We’ve been living without bread for three days. Thank God, there’s rice! And Skyflakes. Nutella and Skyflakes. Hmm, works for me.
- Mang Jun, the magtataho, has gotten back to work. How wonderful it is to hear his voice every morning!
- All the chocolates? Gone. There’s too much stressed people in this house and I understand why we all wanted a bit of pleasure. I just wished we bought more sweets.
- Baby Caius was born! Congrats, Ate Kay and Kuya Billy!
- For the past weeks, I’ve been locking my social media accounts in fear that some trolls are collecting personalities (no matter how insignificant, as I am) that are speaking out against the inadequacy of this regime. And there have been threats. I don’t think trolling is never going to be over, because they breed on their own (unless someone gives them a better paying job and a proper livelihood).
- I’m slowly working my way through a client SEO project, and thankfully, my laptop hasn’t let me down, although I am planning to buy a replacement soon (sorry, laptop, I hope you’re not reading this, I don’t want to break your heart), because after 8 years of working every day since its purchase, I am beginning to feel its groans (by way of lagging). Thank you for your service, and please continue to stay alive because I’ve got all my WIPs in your memory.
- And, finally, a long-awaited opportunity that finally opened up for me.
I’d love to say more about that opportunity, but the only outstanding thing, so far, was that I had nothing — no heroic quests, no emotionally harrowing story; just the fact that I am a girl writing in the corner of her room, watching the world spin from afar and chiming in whenever she felt she had to. I forgot to say that I automatically self-cancel and wither with disbelief whenever somebody says my work is good, and like the rest of the writers, we’re trying to straighten up our emotional flaws (probably many) to be good, social people. If there’s anything I could tell you, it’s this fear that the ones I have talked to might have probably thought, “What’s this person saying? Can’t stand her!” and would have turned their backs on me forever. But on the 23rd, I’d knock on their doors again to check, and maybe, by that time, a hand would pull me in, wipe the dust off my dress, and lead me into their home.
Crossing my fingers.
It’s the 21st of June, and it’s my brother’s birthday! As my only sibling, who used to be so energetic, he slipped on a carpet, bumped his head on a glass table, and ended up with six stitches, is now nearing his thirties (which means I’m a grandma???). I only wish he accomplishes everything that he wanted to in the world, because he deserved it, being the resilient, responsible, and faithful human being that he is.
Coincidentally, it’s also Father’s Day, which leads us to the other man in our house, the office-clerk-turned-pastor and is the humblest man I know (except for some times he had to brag about jokes that don’t really make sense). We have good men in this house, and with social media constantly blowing up with stories of abusers and harassers and manipulators, I am glad to say there are none of those in this family. I’m not even kidding. The prudent way we were taught to live did shape our souls into a kinder, more compassionate molds. I am grateful to be in this company.
Which is why going forward, in the families that I will find and form along the way, I want the same feeling; a gracious benevolence of empathy, honesty, and love, thriving under a symphony of diverse dreams but walks towards one direction. The direction of equal harmony and progress, on page, and in life.
Thank you for dropping by, and more soon. x
The Weekend Closing: Celebrating the doors we need to close to get to the ones we need to open.