bOb oNg sAveD my liFe
I don't know why but I ordered bottomless iced tea in this internet cafe thingie I'm in (am Wi-Fi-ing and bored and procrastinating and averse to seeing my roommates any more than necessary.) Thing is, I need to drink at least three glasses para sulit and these are pretty tall glasses. And I might need to pee.
Too much information, I know.
<<-->>
I got the poem thingie that I wrote in Dr. Brion's class. Let's just say I've added another glob of fortifying cement to my belief that I am totally not a poet and must be hanged if I even think of a metaphor.
And my fiction -- the genre silly moi thought that I would have an easy time with -- is not doing so good. It's not just the atmosphere. Although, I rather have my usual habit of getting up and walking around every two paragraphs or so. Sure, I get things written in Dr. Brion's class but they're not really, er, creative. Ewan ko ba.
They say that writers are often their own worst critics. In that case, I make a very good one. After all, if I happen to like something I like, no one else likes it or even thinks it's literature. And if I have something I completely think is crappy, then the world thinks that way too! Walang lusot! Parang mandatory volunteer. Saya.
But I'm happy. And I'm struggling to make halfway decent literature. Because in Verne's (very early) birthday letter to me, he said, "Don't let other people convince you otherwise."
Parang walang sense yung last paragraph ko kaya tatagalugin ko na lang. Oh, ganito yun: May mga pagkakataon naman na magaling akong magsulat. Huwag kong hayaan ang mga tao na sirain... teka. Oh, shit, lost. All my Filipino powers have drained, since I siphoned it all to that heart-stopping Fil long test.
Hala. Nakakakot. Haha. Buti na lang masipag akong estudyante at nag-aral ako. :)
Pero during the exam, I was making singhot like mad (ohmygahdaa) and I had a weird buzzing headache and I wanted to barf all over my paper. But I was suddenly inspired by a vision of a crab and a turtle and a mermaid who's not really part of the story. O Bob Ong, let me be your pen.
Buti na lang. Kundi, hopeless.
(Nagbigay pa nga ng clue si Sir. Banda daw. Diyos mio. How the hell could we forget that crappy garbage truck float?! We could've done better. Agh. Tas, haha, sabi pa ni Sir, favorite niya yung E-heads. Tangina, compatible sila ni Saab... :D
At that point, Saab just glared a hole through me. Weee.)
--wait, a girl just walked in with gigantimeganormous boobs and i'm sorry but i can't help but look! they're all over the place, ay teka, pendongpiskotsengpagong!--
At least, there's less for me to do. Now that Fil's done, I only have to worry about the ton of work I need to do for SA, History, Theo and Katipunan. Fine. Fine. Fine.
Why doesn't anyone like Fergie's song? That LondonLondonLondon thingie? It's sooo... Wah. Sorry ha, LSS. Masayaaa.
Toodles, children! :)
Too much information, I know.
<<-->>
I got the poem thingie that I wrote in Dr. Brion's class. Let's just say I've added another glob of fortifying cement to my belief that I am totally not a poet and must be hanged if I even think of a metaphor.
And my fiction -- the genre silly moi thought that I would have an easy time with -- is not doing so good. It's not just the atmosphere. Although, I rather have my usual habit of getting up and walking around every two paragraphs or so. Sure, I get things written in Dr. Brion's class but they're not really, er, creative. Ewan ko ba.
They say that writers are often their own worst critics. In that case, I make a very good one. After all, if I happen to like something I like, no one else likes it or even thinks it's literature. And if I have something I completely think is crappy, then the world thinks that way too! Walang lusot! Parang mandatory volunteer. Saya.
But I'm happy. And I'm struggling to make halfway decent literature. Because in Verne's (very early) birthday letter to me, he said, "Don't let other people convince you otherwise."
Parang walang sense yung last paragraph ko kaya tatagalugin ko na lang. Oh, ganito yun: May mga pagkakataon naman na magaling akong magsulat. Huwag kong hayaan ang mga tao na sirain... teka. Oh, shit, lost. All my Filipino powers have drained, since I siphoned it all to that heart-stopping Fil long test.
Hala. Nakakakot. Haha. Buti na lang masipag akong estudyante at nag-aral ako. :)
Pero during the exam, I was making singhot like mad (ohmygahdaa) and I had a weird buzzing headache and I wanted to barf all over my paper. But I was suddenly inspired by a vision of a crab and a turtle and a mermaid who's not really part of the story. O Bob Ong, let me be your pen.
Buti na lang. Kundi, hopeless.
(Nagbigay pa nga ng clue si Sir. Banda daw. Diyos mio. How the hell could we forget that crappy garbage truck float?! We could've done better. Agh. Tas, haha, sabi pa ni Sir, favorite niya yung E-heads. Tangina, compatible sila ni Saab... :D
At that point, Saab just glared a hole through me. Weee.)
--wait, a girl just walked in with gigantimeganormous boobs and i'm sorry but i can't help but look! they're all over the place, ay teka, pendongpiskotsengpagong!--
At least, there's less for me to do. Now that Fil's done, I only have to worry about the ton of work I need to do for SA, History, Theo and Katipunan. Fine. Fine. Fine.
Why doesn't anyone like Fergie's song? That LondonLondonLondon thingie? It's sooo... Wah. Sorry ha, LSS. Masayaaa.
Toodles, children! :)
posted by Sasha Martinez at
5:57:00 PM
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