Last night, I went down from my room to the dinner table to find my sister holding chopsticks. There was a pan on the table, noodles in them, kimchi, Korean pickled radish and memories of Manila gushed forth. I remembered those times of get-together with my classmates, unplanned, hurried, lacking structure and concrete planning. Just happy we were together, and had time.
And there was our Samgyupsal moments when we would duly plan and, since we were broke students, did not eat breakfast or lunch— basically fast thoughtout the day— so as to make the most of the feast… three hours or more!
https://youtube.com/shorts/XWM8Cfhy_MU?si=MaTqR9VzO-rhOgeh
These days all “parties” are family-oriented, and only haphazardly planned by siblings.
***
Hibernation
I believe that the writer's way is to write sparingly. One can write all the time, and spread what they want to say all the time, and it would still be equal to someone who, say, writes once a year and with their writing leaves an impact so hard that they will have done their writer's duty of raising consciousnesses. I’m not saying I have this talent. Soon, I hope so. But this is the technique I chose. However, I've been gone for so long… for too long that I had forgotten why I started blogging in the first place.
The Small Town, Queer Life has gotten to me, my friends. So much so, that I have chosen to mostly sleep and write my angst by writing privately on my journal.
This is a haphazard post but I need to post it. It's purpose, selfishly, is for me to get a move on with my writing, blogging life, despite the current busy schedules I have been experiencing.
I hope to post again in the coming months and reconnect with everyone here.
That’s enough for now. Thank you always everyone 😊