Monthly Archives: December 2015

The Usuals

– I always show up in my uniform – black shirt and ankle-grazers. When I’m feeling lazy, I    throw a shirtdress (breton or monochrome) and just slide on my Gizeh Birkenstocks.

– I work with information technology devices and try my best to be 95% paperless most of   the time.

– I’m trying to be a lawyer.

The Highlights

– I went to the Philippine Senate for a model congress to discuss the bill that I authored. The bill was about mandatory Climate Change education. I think education is the grey area of personal efforts and politics hence the bill.

– I turned vegetarian and am currently preparing myself to go vegan this coming year.

The Breaks 

– A friend left for New York.

– I lost my cat.

– I cut my hair.

There are a couple of things that happened this year but I remember only a few of them. In hindsight, I think I paid more attention to those that caused me pride and pain. And I also think that this year made me into a person that doesn’t give a fuck about particular things. I’m less distracted now and I think I now know how to know what to want and how to get it. Whatever that means. You might find it vague, reader but it’s as clear as day to me and that is what matters. See! I don’t give a fuck. I don’t bother. I stopped explaining myself. I mess up, I clean it. Good job, 2015. One fine sandpaper, you got here.


I’m writing this from my phone so it’s pretty casual. It’s two in the morning so don’t expect something brilliant. Or coherent.

I just have something to say. My heart has a little crack in it. My cat went missing. For fuck’s sake it’s just a fucking cat! It’s my cat. Attachments and all.

I miss him.

I find it really funny how I try to incorporate my humanness to this beast. We don’t speak the same language. Cat’s don’t talk, stupid. We don’t think the same way. So how? How do I know that all my conclusions are correct? But we do feel. That even how obscure the catness of my cat is, it does not rule out the reality that both of us are sentient beings. Is he sad? I am sad. If he is sad, is he sad for the same reasons that I am sad about? That I do not know. This leads me to another question: If he is sad and the sadness makes him want to go home, does he want to go home for the same reasons that I have which make me yearn for him to be found?