What happened?

"Ikaw, nakakapagsulat ka pa ba?"

Rats. There's the conjuction [pa], a tone of freedom, of a luxurious item called time. 

As I look again into this old site, the latest post was a summer affair with Siri Hustvedt. After that is years of silence. Let's say, life happened in between. So fast - you cannot afford to stop and list them all down. Either that, or you are too tired to remember. 

After all, the moments that we write are those we want to remember. 

And please, let's demystify writing. It is a creative thing, yes, but it is also a laborious work. It takes more than five minutes of sitting down and construct ideas in your mind, put all the tone of angst or a passive nuances on the events happened through you and you let your hands do the work. Or in my case, letting my fingers type in my laptop. 

"Wala na, wala na kasi akong oras eh." 

Perhaps, what added up to the katamaran are distractions. Measured distractions. Measured, in a sense that I can just put my emotions and frustrations in a cohesive thought, filling the screen with 160-230 characters, or a simple photo with a short caption. Or better yet, getting offline and get a move - either thru reading, or immersive travelling.

Siguro, that blast from the past who came around four years later made me see my younger self again. What was I like before? Was I happier? Was I angsty before? Well, I am still angsty but in terms of being soci-politically woke, but maintaining that persona on a personal note is a tough job. I am too Tita to function now. Too tita, too much #Adulting.

But it feels good to write once in a while. It feels good now. This felt good. I do hope I can write more, just about anything. Not just about the books I read, but also the personal lessons on my travels. and I do hope I learn not to take the shorter route of 230 characters, and make it a blog post. Like this.

Thank you, Cyrus. And as I see your site, it's time to update yours. 😏