|
life logs
17 July 2011 Good evening friend. Earlier today I slapped Jethro twice on the same cheek. He cried of course. It must have been humiliating, as our cousin was there to see him struck down by my heavy hand, not to mention painful. I have been slapped more than once before and it wasn’t pleasant, I tell you. After hitting him I immediately felt remorseful. I have no right to hit him. I should have better control of my anger next time. I did warn him to stop hitting Joshua though. He’s turning out to be some sort of a bully to his twin and I hate that. I’m not much of a role model to be honest, but when I see something wrong I try to do my best to correct it in my own impulsive way. I might be wrong. My brother could grow up hating me. But really, two slaps in the same cheek? Is that enough to plant a lifetime of enmity towards me? Maybe. Maybe not. I have absolutely no idea. He has got to stop either way. * I’m assigned at the OPD currently and, while I still love my job, I can’t help but sometimes detest how exceedingly stressful it is. I have no charts to deal with but over 50 people go through me before seeing their respective doctors. During the past two weeks I’ve used a myriad of strategies to cope with the stressful atmosphere and even more stressful people. When deep breathing and guided imagery don’t work anymore, I go on the offensive. My version of the hand of God coupled with Nortrom’s global silence ultimately does the trick. It’s simply really; I raise my right hand, palm facing towards the offending person and mutter a laconic excuse as to why I can’t accommodate them at the moment. It’s an elaborate ploy just to get a breather inside the airconditioned OPD room with a rather high success rate. OPD work is ultimately ward work minus the backlogs. I get by, don’t worry. The initial shock of working on a Monday has worn off after two weeks, but I’m not discounting the possibility of a backbreaking, not physically I hope, scenario. * I haven’t seen him in a while, socially, I mean. I’ve seen him at work at least four times this month. I nod at him when I see him, he nods back. I sometimes manage a wan smile. Yes, I know. That’s how pathetic I am. Every time I see him though, the more I think that what I feel for him is just a passing fancy. A greater part of me tells me it’s a passing fancy and I believe it, to my chagrin. You can’t love a person without actually knowing them, can you? That sounds logical enough for me, no arguments there. I’ve told you before that I want to know him better. I want us to be friends at the very least. That was my goal initially because he seems interesting. He has a rather peculiar song selection for a guy. I’ve heard a good chunk of the songs on his phone, so don’t you dare mock my powers of observation. He’s practically an MP3 away from downloading Lady Gaga or, or… Sister Sledge! Lord Jesus and all the saints please help me. Good night.
|
|||||
|
|||||
|
|||||
|
this is an AT&T advertising campaign that was designed by Jose Estrada, a Mexican, who won a million dollars in an open competition organized by AT&T just using painted hands and a mobile phone. Quite amazing!!! Enjoy it!
I love these hands.
|
|||||
|
life logs: four months
It’s been four months since my volunteering stint started. The number four portends much but I refuse to think about the future.The days pass so fast. My younger brothers are excited to start high school. My mother has found little bits of happiness here and there. And I have, quite possibly, fallen in love. With whom and how, I choose to keep the answers. But a decision is waiting to be made and there are no concessions. I can either leave and find another hospital somewhere else or stay and nurture my new life here in the province.
|
|||||
Lord Jesus! I want! Someone take me to Baguio. Now na!
|
|||||
|
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Has Gnarls Barkley. And Micheal Jackson! I like!
|
|||||
|
life logs: mother’s day
the other day i greeted my mother a happy mother’s day through a text message, half-hurriedly scribbled as i was on my way to the terminal riding a sikad-sikad. i told her i love her and in my heart of hearts i meant it. sometimes i wish that we could be like those mother and gay son tandems that are so popularly depicted in mainstream media, ready to conquer the world with a mother-son bond so strong not even the strongest trials of life can break it. but alas i’m closeted. even the fact that i know that she knows about my sexual orientation is of little comfort to me. she drops hints every now and then that she will support me in whatever endeavors i wish to pursue or what kind of life i choose to lead as long as i don’t hurt anyone and that i’m happy with it. close enough to true acceptance, i guess. and i have to content myself with these hints day after day as long as i don’t take that little leap of faith and tell her i’m gay. mama, if you ever get to read this, and i know you won’t because we’re not even friends here on facebook, know that this gay son of yours will always love you. happy mother’s day.
|
|||||
|
ten feet and counting, deeper still i sink
|
|||||
|
|||||
|
I'm Dudung. I have Returned. We all must Return.
theme by Conkers
|
||
