“I have a 41st floor view of Metro Manila’s sunset skyline and its afterglow. It’s never a drag to watch the sun and its skyful of bright to fading light that takes on a different, breathtaking view everyday..”
“Yes, it’s what I am now. Resolutely floating aimlessly in this air of bliss that doesn’t seem to run out of wind.”
“Yes, it’s what I am now. Resolutely floating aimlessly in this air of bliss that doesn’t seem to run out of wind.”
The alarm rang on a hung-over Monday eight am so that I can make it to the office at ten. But I just lent deaf ear and took five more minutes. I wasn’t sure if it was my subconscious was sending subliminal messages, or maybe just the slacker side of me, but I dreamt of being absent today. I could barely remember the dream that took place behind my thick skull. After my five minutes, it was already 10:30 a.m.
Now that I try to justify it, I can’t really say that I have been deprived of the joys I should have had if I wasn’t working in that skyscraper cave of mine. It’s not as if I’ve been working too diligently and I’m stressed out from the suffocating walls of the office. As a matter of fact, my office situation has significantly improved since I’m no longer in the graveyard shift. There’s even time for internet or going to the mall. I can listen to my launchcast station. I have a 41st floor view of Metro Manila’s sunset skyline and its afterglow. It’s never a drag to watch the sun and its skyful of bright to fading light that takes on a different, breathtaking view everyday. This is how I’d describe my life for the past couple of months: resolutely floating aimlessly in this air of bliss that never seems to out of wind. Take this weekend for example:
Saturday: I wake up a little after 12 noon, and watch a Wong Kar Wai film, Chunking Express with D. We attend my Tito’s birthday, have dinner, and have a few rounds of beer. Before I drive her home, we went to a loungy bar in Makati Avenue, Tiananmen.
Sunday: I pick up girlfriend at her house and I finally meet her endearing six-year-old niece. We have a pleasant Sunday drive, drive-thru McDonalds and eat in the car. We watch the matinee of an excellent play/musical in CCP with our friends. We attend my younger brother’s girlfriend’s dinner party and pig out. Then we head home for dessert, the chocolate mouse we brought for ___, and a few drinks. Hung over from the musical, we sang our words. Then I drive home on this quiet, Sunday night.
It’s not just the weekends. There were even weekdays, like the day of JK’s birthday, when we went to Ayala Museum for a free tour and cocktails, then dinner and beer at Greenbelt. I’m with D. when I buy books and she’s a kind of arbitrator for my indecision on which book to buy. There are days when I meet up with friends for a foreign film festival, and have foreign film marathons on DVD.
Happiness is something I already said something about. I’ve been chewing on it like a gum and it’s something I just don’t want to spit out.
That’s probably why, after the thousands times I told myself I want to be absent one day. I finally reacted on this impulse. I have to take the time to chew on this happiness. Today I slept until 1:30 pm, had coffee while reading a few chapters of my new Murakami and listening to the best of Café del Mar while peach tea incense burns in my room.
And I have finally written something about my life recently. Yes, it’s what I am now. Resolutely floating aimlessly in this air of bliss that doesn’t seem to run out of wind.
My journal is on a Manila Bulletin-kind of phase where the news is always affirmative.
