Friends and the Art of Note-Taking

When I was younger, I hated meeting new people. Usually, I just befriend those who are seated next to me in class. Friends who are assigned to me, not by fate, but by the enrollment administrator.

More often than not, it turns out great. I was lucky to have met different kinds of people: from the bibo kids who everyone wants to copy from, to the scums of the earth who steals their classmates’ baon. I’ve known heart throbs, popular kids, losers, posers, the computer game addicts, and people who just stay and observe in the background, seemingly hatching their plans of world domination.

I was a part of the latter group.

Later in life, I was more “outgoing”. Meeting new people became second nature to me. My choice in friends improved, seeing that I wasn’t just surrounding myself with “the usual suspects” (a.k.a. my seatmates). I started branching out. And as I did, my knack of observing (and for what I’ve been told, criticizing) other people also became second nature.

That actually led to the development of this waste of internet space I call my blog. Meeting new people had me wanting to do what they are able to do. To enjoy what they enjoy, and to be open to try some experiences that they had. Meeting new people acquainted me to authors, books, music, films, art, and other things, that I wouldn’t normally know if I hadn’t met them.

And it’s as if I don’t have too much on my plate right now, more people have opened me to the idea of pursuing new things like photography, travelling, back-packing, whale-eating, and the most plausible one of all- -note-taking.

When I think about it, most ideas come to me in the most inopportune times. Whether in the CR, taking a crap, or in a jeep crammed full of passengers, ideas come to me (or any person) in a second’s notice, so it’s only logical for one to jot them down for his own reference. This is what one of my friends does. Obsessively writing down things every chance she gets.

This brings me to the latest skill that I would like to master: to automatically jot down things that pop in my head even at the most awkward of times. I want people to get paranoid every time I reach for my notebook. I will look at them intently while I write down the most inane things like buying beer or taking out the trash. After which, I will let out a small snicker at the end, for good measure. All of this would be done with my eyes conspicously glaring at them.

Meeting new people really opens one up to personal growth. Without it, creeping people out and being productive would still be done separately and would still be thought of to be mutually exclusive of each other.

Friends and the Art of Note-Taking

Read Me

Though I was never her student, I am a big fan of her work.  It’s sad to hear that Ma’am Dimalanta passed away just this Thursday. May her poems live on as a testament to her greatness, and continue to inspire those who are lucky enough to come across them.

Read Me

Whenever my voice flings arrows
your way at a fiery pace,
read, discover there is that
something in me that dies to go gentle.
For when I viciously tangle
with you trying to throw
you off course, inside, I am raring
to cover you, take you, become
all of me fire and fluid.
When I try to lord it over, empowered,
it is because inside I am already
slave groveling ready to heed your bidding,
crawling waves lapping you up
sea shore hillocks sky
all the way up, all drool and drivel.
And when I insolently seek out
pulpits to mount my gospel truths,
I am really one humped question mark
thrashing about for your steadying light.
and when I try to light you up whole,
there is really a part of your flame
I would want extinguished
to die rekindled in me alone,
and when I am wind taking roots
in your solid ground, I am roots as well
ready to take flight upon your wings.
When I prance around proud in Times Square.
I am child carousing in the greener
fringes of the heart’s final roosting.

Read this idiolect,
read well, decode, detect,
and love me when I seem to hate.

Read Me