The weekend

Friday.  My sister texted me that she was in Taguig, so off we went, in a cab.  She wanted company while waiting for my brother-in-law to finish a two-hour meeting, I think.  And so, according to how these things go in this mega-city, of course the trip took two hours.

So all four of us just went to a rooftop bar and looked at the mall's giant dandelion installations, those that light up in time with music.  The effect was beautiful; and it's really something to see at night. I imagine that during daytime it'll just look like protruding lollipops made of plastic bottles littered around grass.  We traded stories over beer (and one mango shake with no milk, please), watched the giant dandelions some more, and went our separate ways.  It was a good night: my sister and I haven't seen each other in a while, and we went to Fully Booked after saying goodbye and bought the absurdly thick paperback of Batman Eternal.

Come Sunday and at the invitation of our department head, we went to what they lovingly call their "farm," in the countryside (wow, in the countryside - isn't everywhere in the Philippines the countryside?) It was another fine day: we got to feel countryside winds, exhaled grateful pauses from work, and Pasco got to drive the second-longest drive he had had, bless 'im.  It was a serene time, in a place near as anything to the idyllic (with the mandatory cows), with lovely people and a precocious child, who would think nothing of saying, "I like ginger in dishes when you purify it, because ginger alone tastes ick."


I also like the way to there - especially this part -


And so we spent a good weekend, with good people, and reminded ourselves that life is good, and we take it one bend at a time.  With family, giant dandelions, cows, and the countryside, life is good.  Barring these, I imagine Mogo saying "all is well," and I am good for days on end.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Mental disorders: Thoughts on a whatever something or other

I suppose I could start in plainer English discussing who I am as a layman not trained in psychoanalytic language, and if so will revert to the language that I do use when discussing anything worth discussing: half academic and half wit (indistinguishable at times from being a halfwit). As a layman I chose to major in philosophy, for better or worse, which is a fast track to being witty, or being a halfwit, and other things besides. Or I could start with a bombardment of links mostly pertaining to The Diagnostic Statistical Manual   IV and V  and increasingly technical accounts of co-morbidity and dual diagnoses involving bipolar disorder and borderline personality disorder until we both drown in jargon I will not be able to understand, much less simplify. For DSM-IV diagnostic criteria regarding bipolar disorders types I and II, look at  this  if you want a full jargon drowning, or  this instead  if only for its simplicity and overall pleasant color sche...
Read more

Of finding something again

Image
I just sleep. I sleep to rest, to be away from the world that has given me so much and that I am not a part of anyway, to reset, to die. If only for a while.  I wake up and look at my phone, as all of us do now. The world painfully worlds, with no pauses and preambles: it elbows you in the face with all its glory, its vapid bitches, and all the iterations of the Andrew Tates of humankind. In everything we have a choice, save for one: this world. It is the ultimate given, the ultimate, ungentle, fact, and that we are in it. It doesn't stop. It can't; it doesn't have to. Immediately upon waking I close my eyes and dive deep into the recesses of whatever that was young that's left of me to desperately hunt for reserves of a desire to get up from bed, to work, to be . Two days ago I joked with my lover that I had been tired since 1984, and I think I mean it.  If not for him and another friend that gave me the time of the day in the MMORPG that I returned to, I would have ro...
Read more

Memory

Image
I heard somewhere that were it not for entropy, time would not be linear for us. It being linear is the only reason why we can anticipate or remember, and why those words even mean anything to begin with, and why those words are the same words only facing opposite ends. However, the linearity of time is nothing compared to what the human brain does. It processes things as they happen, but it is only in retention and protention that it can understand what it processes. In short, our minds are never in the right time. There is no right time. There is no now. There is only anticipation or dread of a time that will end, and there is only memory of a time that has ended. The paradox in the entire thing, of course, is that without the now, neither of those states would be. And that is why time hurts. We are in it, things happen the order they do because of it, and it is merciless to the last second, especially when one has to leave. It is more merciless because of things that wi...
Read more