Is it too early for reminiscing? Sometimes, out of the blue, and in the most ordinary of times, I feel suddenly, electrifyingly alive and in the moment. Sometimes in the middle of work, a flood of memories overwhelm me and I am reminded of things that came to pass. There's no shaking it, everything that happened in my life is now part of my narrative. If I were a story, I'm in the middle of my arc. I had experienced loss from which I will never recover, a burden, like heavy weights in my pockets that could sink me anytime, a wound so deep it will not heal. I had found myself in the throes of death, clung to life despite the isolation and the long road to recovery. And I find myself asking why? If I were a story, I should be moving towards something--a resolution or an ending of some sorts that should bring closure to my life's questions. Instead, it's starting to feel like Soprano and I'm moving to nothing but an abrupt end. Or The Good Wife--a good slap in the fac…
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Sometime in college, I realized I was born with a reading list I will never finish. It was in elementary when I discovered the joy of reading. At that time, in the province, we didn't have a good bookstore. Wait, correct that--we didn't have a bookstore. We had a school supplies store which sell textbooks and once in a blue moon a fiction novel would find its way in the shelves of Mathematics or Panitikan. But I didn't get those because buying books were simply out of my wallet's league. I don't think I even had a wallet then, much more any money I could call my own, except the spare coins I saved when I skipped lunch. I spent a lot of time in the library, which was sort of my refuge because I had no inclination for sports--and I didn't like staying in school playing with my classmates once classes are done for the day. I was an introvert; I just didn't know what it was called then.
The first milestone I had was when I graduated in prep school. It was made more unforgettable because I sung onstage. Long before The Voice Kids or Tawag ng Tanghalan Kids happened, I tortured my poor classmates, their parents and guests, and my teachers with my voice. In my defense, my teachers made me do it. The succeeding milestones in my life were all that--graduations. From elementary, high school, and finally college. I say finally because I'm glad that my formal education is over. I have no plans for further studies, except those short courses online that tap into my neglected creative side.