I haven't blogged for a long while now. You could excuse me because I'm trying to keep up with the things thrown my way-- work, family, friends, and life in general. I'm busy making my life count. And when I'm online, with the ultimate goal of writing down the day/week that has been, I'm lost in the moment of the words and pictures I read and see from people I don't even know. There is a lot of talent oozing with every click that I make. Then, I forget. I promise again (and again) to make up for the times I've set writing aside. It has been a cycle for me. But how can you not mind the beauty and convenience the web gives?
My best friend, Sandra, from my hometown, Zamboanga, is in town for a short visit. She's in the opposite room while I'm out here trying to collect my thoughts. It's a nice feeling knowing I could be comfortable with the silence our situation brings. It isn't odd. We have been together the entire day-- nonstop laughing and talking. This time tonight though, we're apart. As I write, I remember the place I grew up in. People would give me this unusual look that tells me mystery and suspicion has painted the town red if they know I come from the said city. It has grown popular not because our dialect is understood only by a few but because of negative publicity and media hype, almost to a fault and insult. Still, that is home for me. I've made great friends and memories there. I feel the need to defend my hometown from how the public has deemed it unsafe and treacherous.
So much has happened tonight, I feel the sheets of my bed calling me. :)
So much has happened tonight, I feel the sheets of my bed calling me. :)
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