Test write

Test write

OCTOBER 17, 2009

October 15, 2009

“Test write… test 1, 2, 3 and 4.”

Wielding my pen with nothing but this phrase almost filled up a legal size paper before this first line came out of my almost vapid mind. I thought I could ease my way to sleep tonight after a day of non-stop, jam-packed activity. The last thing I need is to have an unknown automobile problem, which apparently what I am having now.  While I lie safe in my bed, my pick-up truck is kilometers away – out in the cold third floor parking area of St. Luke’s Hospital. The neighbor’s wailing pup seems to identify with me under this starless night sky: sending 128-bit encrypted aw aw’s to dog heaven. I know that there is something more to this do-it-yourself restless euphoria, that makes me want to leave the house and try all the car troubleshooting tips from the videos I watched earlier…

***STOP: 0X00000008E(0XC0000090, 0X004B4BD8, 0XEE25885C, 0X00000000)

Beginning dump of physical memory.

Free writng mode engaged.

Kuliti prolonged five days of amox meets the self serving master debating computer box of submerged cars post ondoy cleanup over the back hoe computer shop business with magic jack thinkable rent is meant for arthro calling me “abay” that annoys me in everyway medium size peeping at the neighbor’s wife code alarm needs to disengaged but when I call the number its out of service tomorrow answer the call of the wild cats forbidden sleeping atop my bench press body staying the same after petty efforts why don’t you going to the gym 110V buffing machine india resting on 3 year old newspaper reachable by ladder that used to be a coconut tree planted in POEA shooting fruits by the branches charged CO2
Physical memory dump complete….

That was my pitiful stab at free writing, my unfiltered and unbiased writing without regards to grammar and spelling, letting raw ideas flow carelessly, no pads and no helmet, just balls. Despite my poor handwriting, barely readable even for me, I decided to save my brain from getting frostbite attacks. The kind that leaves your brain frozen, sucking you dry of curiosity and enthusiasm, so relaxed that nothing seems new, so bad it feels you had everything figured out. A stagnant brain tantamounts to death itself.

I miss my old self, I miss being me.

Not so long ago I had the maturity of a 13 year old. The result: playtime anytime, wherever whenever. I did things without forethought and afterthought and looked at the world behind these brown eyes with little notice of other’s perspective, likewise people’s feelings too. Introspection was a regular activity; everything had always something to do with me. I would have given Wishbone a run for his money when it comes to chronic daydreaming, looking back, I was just afraid to face the agonizing reality. Ego, here we go again. I had hurt a lot of people during those times: many left but a few stuck around. On the upside, because I was self-absorbed, my confidence level was as high as Mt. Everest. I had greater command of my emotions, turning them on and off was as easy as flicking a light switch. I had many friends, but no real friends that I ever stood for. Why people would wait for one another, forming groups just to eat or have drinks together, was a big puzzle for me. ”Indian” I was fondly called for the price of convinience.  I had ‘originality’ or my own version of anything. Looking back, ‘uniqueness’ was the right term, because originality transcends having an opinion or interpretation about everything. Hmmmm… I think I’m regaining my word power at the cost of being so full of myself again. J

Like the pre-industrial man would strike stones to desperately light a fire, my left and right brain share the same fate as these stones, with the risk of losing my sanity by going overboard. Because the threat of a frozen brain is a big liability, especially in this time of information revolution, I decided to brave the risk just to produce a tiny spark. Hoping with enough sparks, I can churn out fire.

Too much love will kill you. Too much time on the internet will fuck you up.

Comparable to the fire that Prometheus stole from the Greek deities, the internet played a significant role in human development. And just like fire, in its unharnessed state, the internet can also be destructive. However, since its benefits far outweigh its cons, we barely notice the side effects of too much dependence on the internet. Take for example when doing research for a school project or activity. 8 out of 10 individuals would surely use a search engine like Google, rather than sliding through decked shelves in the library looking for relevant materials. First of all,  sources over the internet does not guarantee a better research output over the ones conducted in the library, not unless it was a comprehensive online library based on the actual library itself. Second, books are still books, maps are still the giant rolls of glossy paper stacked in the corner, they have a certain feel that no amount of existing technology can compete with. And yes, not even Apple’s Kindle. Third, you can sleep soundly at the library after a tiring research. Lastly, the remaining two individuals would rather play Dota like me.

To be continued…

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