...and the rest of what's left

ok, enough about being melodramatic...

...like i have been for the past two weeks. i promise to pull myself together starting right this very minute.

let me start by saying how much i am enjoying my first summer here in brussels. the music festivals around the city are to die for! it's a pity that i have only been to one concert as of today. that was that gig at klinkedenmund (i hope i got it right) last week where the band balkan beatbox played to a wonderful crowd (of course, me being there, why shouldn't it be!). tonight, i am nursing a cold/cough/migraine (and a heavy heart; yeah i had to insert this), but tomorrow i will be at the jazz fest in my own town here in jette. if brussels would be as lively as this all-year round, i wouldn't be missing home that much.

and in between concerts, i am relishing this wonderful book loaned by alexie. it's anne lamott's bird by bird and i say it's a good one (i am not even done reading it yet!). it's a must read for aspiring writers, for writers that need some brushing up, or for people like me who are fans of good writing and who marvel at how authors can write so well you wonder if they sold their souls to the devil in exchange for the most appropriate adverb for the trickiest verb. many times i catch myself trying to memorize some lines from this book for future use. heck, this book may not help you get a friday night lay, but what if it does? you'll never know. i am also helping a friend with the stat analysis for her thesis (yeah, i'm a geek!).

since i'm in a confession mood, let me add one more. the reason why i'm doing all these is to get my mind off some issues i can't deal with right now. sometime soon, i know, i have to face it. but for now, let me leave it. thanks candy and alette for the encouraging words. care for a beer?


dancing to: two albums by arsenal, outsides and oyebo soul
state of mind: not clear
state of heart: don't even try to ask

this is marc's version of the truth, sometime at 12:45 AM 6 comments if you can't live with it, he can.

let the foam spill

hell, i don't know what i am into. i enjoy the company and i look forward to the calls. but i sense my fears, coming, rising, and soon overflowing like the foam of newly poured beer in a scratched beer mug. but i say let the foam spill.

i am bound to get hurt. actually, i am a little bit pricked right now, somewhere, somehow. it's just that i am too stubborn to give in to it. i believe i am made of steel, first class stainless steel.

so i tell myself to hang on. everyday i psyche myself infront of the mirror: you ok marcky? yes i am is what i say. and then i start my grand soliloquy of irrational thoughts that stream with what-if's and why-not's. these thoughts fill my head until it hurts i couldn't sleep.

the other night that we were together i was shown something. i couldn't figure out why it was shown to me. i usually rack my head over something like this and all the time i get in trouble for believing that nothing is what it is; for me it's what it seems. despite this, i took it easy. it could be nothing.

that same night, after we touched, i couldn't sleep again. second time now that this happened. i jotted down a note and i hope i remember to read it from my mental pocket: bitiw na habang kaya pa.

not yet. i still have some beer. let the foam spill.

this is marc's version of the truth, sometime at 11:24 AM 2 comments if you can't live with it, he can.

back to earth. back on my feet.

i was out partying from 4pm friday to 6am saturday. i thought i was tired of this scene already, but i danced until my legs hurt. i deserve to enjoy the night anyway. magna cum laude (with high distinction) for my first year of grad studies. not too bad no?

ok, back to earth.

this is marc's version of the truth, sometime at 9:45 PM 5 comments if you can't live with it, he can.