At Home, Pondering
I was in the living room of a losing senatorial candidate this afternoon, being a “professional” by suspending personal confusion to conduct a real journalistic interview.
I did not vote this year for I was busy learning to gesticulate and tearing myself apart in stillness. I haven’t read the papers in a couple of months for I was too busy thinking about myself instead of drowning in the frustrations of 80 million strong.
Truth be told, I didn’t do much of the interviewing. Thankfully, my editor-in-chief was with me. And she actually researched for the damn thing.
I was listening, though. And the guy managed to tickle the sleeping social critic in me. In short: I would’ve voted for the asshole, knowing whole-heartedly that my vote wouldn’t have helped him win. That’s what you’re often relegated to. When you believe in the greater good, you learn to put up with the frustration of losing. Almost always.
Losing. The concept of loss. (Ponder.) Moving on.
Being bitten by mosquitoes in the candidate’s house I took for a sign from God to go home. That coupled with the fact that I didn’t really make an effort to contact anyone and that no one really contacted me.
So the mind drifts to the last time it had a night in. Seven days ago exactly. Let’s open that giveaway notebook with Ang Kiukok’s work on the cover. A journal, this asshole calls it.
June 1. Excerpts: “…texts. ‘process with me?’…Basagan na!...She says she panicked…So I misread everything…Basag na basag…’perky for the two of us.’ Hope it rubs off. I doubt.”
Close the notebook. Step away. (Ponder.) (The can of Red Horse we bought is still waiting in the ref a week later.)
Ma’am Marj texted this morning. A bunch of stuff discussed. Comments on my pieces, among other things. One topic led to another, but nothing concrete was said. Thankfully.
Ask this person something for me, Ma’am hesitantly requests.
I reply, mentioning trying to reach “a point of piercing honesty” with this person.
“Hahah!” replies Ma’am. “Great way of defining a friendship between wordwizards!”
Yes. I suppose so. After all, there really was nothing, right? I guess. Absolutely nothing. (?) (Ponder.) Moving on.
I did not vote this year for I was busy learning to gesticulate and tearing myself apart in stillness. I haven’t read the papers in a couple of months for I was too busy thinking about myself instead of drowning in the frustrations of 80 million strong.
Truth be told, I didn’t do much of the interviewing. Thankfully, my editor-in-chief was with me. And she actually researched for the damn thing.
I was listening, though. And the guy managed to tickle the sleeping social critic in me. In short: I would’ve voted for the asshole, knowing whole-heartedly that my vote wouldn’t have helped him win. That’s what you’re often relegated to. When you believe in the greater good, you learn to put up with the frustration of losing. Almost always.
Losing. The concept of loss. (Ponder.) Moving on.
Being bitten by mosquitoes in the candidate’s house I took for a sign from God to go home. That coupled with the fact that I didn’t really make an effort to contact anyone and that no one really contacted me.
So the mind drifts to the last time it had a night in. Seven days ago exactly. Let’s open that giveaway notebook with Ang Kiukok’s work on the cover. A journal, this asshole calls it.
June 1. Excerpts: “…texts. ‘process with me?’…Basagan na!...She says she panicked…So I misread everything…Basag na basag…’perky for the two of us.’ Hope it rubs off. I doubt.”
Close the notebook. Step away. (Ponder.) (The can of Red Horse we bought is still waiting in the ref a week later.)
Ma’am Marj texted this morning. A bunch of stuff discussed. Comments on my pieces, among other things. One topic led to another, but nothing concrete was said. Thankfully.
Ask this person something for me, Ma’am hesitantly requests.
I reply, mentioning trying to reach “a point of piercing honesty” with this person.
“Hahah!” replies Ma’am. “Great way of defining a friendship between wordwizards!”
Yes. I suppose so. After all, there really was nothing, right? I guess. Absolutely nothing. (?) (Ponder.) Moving on.
posted by M.V. at 10:52 PM
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