Feels


  • You're just cute. Like crumpled paper. Like the orange tip of Elmer's Glue smothered on glass.
  • Never have I thought of comparing a deed to snorkeling. I even said it felt liberating.
  • My two officemates thought of the closing performance as a bummer. I thought it was the kind of performance an old matron would conjure up to impress the mayor. 
  • I had to point out that the value of taking up a course on humanities isn't really obvious at first sight: it's not about stroking your beard for obscure critical theories, for example. I said theories were nothing but a naming convention. At the end of the day, humanities make you human - and make your decisions, whether business-related or otherwise, humane and informed. The field also has the humility to entertain another perspective: it basks in plurality of meaning, in the pointlessness of rhyming schemes, or in the relative importance of symbolism. At the end of the day, it's about guiding people to live a fuller life - or lives, as you would when reading books.

Life on training wheels


Alighiero Boetti - Tutto (Everything)

  • I've had dreams for the past three days. All had their features: hackers, train rides, alternate lives, batch mates. I feel refreshed in the morning. Maybe sleeping has become such a mechanical task - closing my eyes on the bus, timing my sleep, waking up to my alarm clock - that dreaming was the least of my mind's concern. It's going to be one of the things I'll miss the most when I die: the feeling of dreaming.
  • My son now knows how to ride a bicycle.
  • I made a visit to our attic and found about a fourth of my book stash already eaten by termites. Most of them were duds from Booksale, but I almost teared up to see my withered copy of Romesh Gunesekera's Monkfish Moon.

Reader #28

Man in his late forties scribbling notes on his notebook and his book. A Quick and Easy Guide to Food and Wine by Gene Gonzales, Thumbing his way from "dill" to "Mache" interspersed with more scribbling. He was lanky and sullen, his face a bit hollow, with the look of someone who havw been through a lot , maybe a Chinese vendor, or, as I later learned about his destination, a college professor in crop science.

Graze

"Ang ganda sa Laguna," the child sitting behind me said, her voice coming right from my bus seat, staring at the lush landscape that flanks the SLEX. "Parang Ilocos lang."

Then there were cows grazing the pastures, banana trees and the extensive real estate development of the South. She sang with a hushed, hoarse voice as a bulldozer rests in a construction site.

Shredders

  • A Small Good Thing, a short story by Raymond Carver
  • Any and all of Frederick Barthelme's stories in The Law of Averages
  • The tearjerker story in Humans of New York for Pedriatic Cancer month
  • I remember the night when I asked both Mom and Dad to try Playstation. They had a one-on-one match in Crash Team Racing. They never made it to the finish line since both of them were going the WRONG WAY
  • My one-week-old son crying out of those injections he had to have as a baby