#30DayWritingChallenge: The one that got away.

Day Twenty-One: The one that got away.

I don’t think have ever written anything about Jemai. So here is one for Throwback Thursday.

Jemai

We met in someone’s birthday party in the early 2000s. A friend in Livejournal decided he will celebrate his twenty-first birthday by kissing twenty-one guys.

(Was it his twenty-first? There must still be some record of it in Livejournal somewhere, but I’m not going to look for it; I will eventually discover loads of other stuff. Anyways, humor me on this recollection.)

I was, I think, Guy #11. Jemai was Guy #12. After we had our separate turns making out with the birthday guy, a common girl friend introduced us to each other and asked that we make out. She was into guys kissing. Jemai and I made out on the spot.

It became a frequent sight after that, Jemai getting drunk and making out with me in parties, sometimes in front of our friends. We even had photos of it. Fun times.

But we also started seeing each other.

#30DayWritingChallenge: The stupidest thing I ever did.

Day Twenty: The stupidest thing I ever did.

What is with these superlatives?

Can one always categorize all the experiences one went through with one’s life and separate the smart from the stupid. Following that, one must then rank, with considerable amount of objective accuracy, which one is the least stupid, which one is the next, and so on.

But this is day twenty and I’m two-thirds done with this challenge. Great time for me to even start complaining about the daily topics. Admittedly, these little asides are just ways for me to introduce what I will be writing about, as well as maybe pad my posts a little.

So. Stupidity.

#30DayWritingChallenge: My secret shame.

Day Nineteen: My secret shame.

Be wary of someone who claims their life is an open book. Everyone is hiding something.

That’s the irony of the social media (and the internet in general): it allows us the ability to show our true selves, so of course we take the time to show only the best side of our supposedly true selves. Rarely (or never) the ugly bits.

Even those who supposedly show the less pretty aspects of their lives still manage to keep them within some level of acceptability: It’s funny, or instructional, or it attempts to humanize the sharer.

Of course there are those who willingly share questionable content online: demeaning low-income workers, mistreating children, or even killing dogs. Except for cases where the sharer seem to exhibit serious mental issues, there is an element of pride in these shared posts. The people sharing them do not feel shame in doing so.

There’s that thing, shame. It’s curiously absent from the internet. There those who shame people for their posts or actions, it has become of the favorite pasttimes online. And there are those who thrive in shamelessness. But not much is shared that was driven by shame.

There are many things I have done that I am ashamed of.

#30DayWritingChallenge: The internet and me.

Day Eighteen: The internet and me.

An average day, occasionally written in the first person plural.

06:09 AM
Woke up. Checked the phone for new messages and notifications. Fell asleep again halfway through.

07:23 AM
Woke up properly. New messages in Facebook (ignore until midday). Fed the cats; they had been scratching our legs for the last two hours.

08:19 AM
Twitter sinkhole.

09:46 AM
New Viber message. Did not open it yet so it will not be seenzoned. Opened Godsville and sent our hero to the arena.

10:27 AM
Have we had breakfast yet?

11:51 AM
Fourth political tweet of the morning. Liked seven posts in the Facebook feed. Nothing interesting when timeline was refreshed.

12:11 PM
No, LiNa we are not interested.

01:47 PM
Finished downloading yet another movie I will not be watching any time soon. Pokemon Shuffle.

02:02 PM
The new Fairy Tail chapter is up!

03:45 PM
Skimmed through the articles in io9, Wired, and The Mary Sue. Picked several articles from the RSS feeds. Scheduled some tweets for later and tomorrow.

04:17 PM
Argued with someone in Twitter. Subretweeted.

05:43 PM
Fed the cats. Stop coming between my face and the phone’s screen, Godzilla.

06:28 PM
Fifteen new Instagram hearts! Oh. Four of them were for previous photos.

07:01 PM
Nothing interesting in Pinterest. Why didn’t we see this Facebook private message sooner?

08:39 PM
Nothing worthwhile in Grindr. Nothing worthwhile in PlanetRomeo. Nothing worthwhile in Hornet. A new woof in Scruff, but we don’t like his profile bio.

09:11 PM
Thought up of a pretentiously smug tweet. Takes a photo with a book cover in the background for added smartypants appeal.

10:24 PM
We have not yet written anything for that #30DayWritingChallenge. Quick blog entry.

11:44 PM
Spotted another hoax in Facebook. Man, these kids on the internet.

12:51 AM
So sleepy. Don’t forget to plug the phone to the charger. Maybe one last look at Twitter…

#30DayWritingChallenge: A moment that filled me with fear.

Day Seventeen: A moment that filled me with fear.

There had been a few times in my life when I was really afraid: One semester when I failed most of my subjects. Jerking awake after I fell asleep, drunk, during a jeepney from Marikina to Pasig. While waiting for my test results during an HIV scare.

One vivid memory which stands out was when I nearly crashed into a train. This was back when I was still a fanboy for a local band and became good friends with two of the band members.

They had a gig in Manila which I went to. The two guys lived in the south and they offered me to hitch a ride with them since we will be going the same way.

We were all chatty during the ride along Buendia until we approached the train tracks parallel to the South Superhighway. Except for the guitarist (who wasn’t the driver), none of us in the car drank much during the gig. But none of us did not see that a train has already started crossing the road ahead of us.

We probably would not have even when we were all quiet. It was a couple of hours past midnight and there were not many street lights along the intersection. The alarm that tells of an incoming train did not go off.

The car skidded to a halt when the driver slammed the breaks. We stopped some five meters way from the train, a really close call.

We were shocked for a minute or two while we waited for the train to pass. There was a release of held breaths and then we started laughing and talking at the same time. We just had a Final Destination prelude, how else should we react?