Days in Minutes #1

The previous week, the fifth Tilad online literary folio, entitled Kamoot, of the Ateneo Literary Association (ALA) was launched. Since the organization's usual layout artist, Kuya Pen, was busy working on his pieces for the SOLARA Art Exhibit in school, I took the job, with the help of my brother, Kuya Ken. The folio is posted here, and all photographs in it were taken by me. Tilad launchings were usually held in the school's Thesis Room, but the new officers of ALA decided to use the Leonardo's Lounge, for this venue suits the theme more. It was very windy there though that the projector screen kept on turning away from us, and the candles were not lit.
     I also became a part of the Gawad SSG this year. It's a recognition night wherein the student government of the university would present awards to students who excelled in their respective fields. I was a nominee in the Student Leader category. I didn't win, as expected, but the dessert (a buko pandan cake with a white chocolate piece on top) worth more than the trophy, so maybe, I did.
      What's more interesting than the two events mentioned, is the 3-hour trip Leir and I took yesterday to Legazpi, the 1-hour stay, and the 3-hour trip back here. We went there to witness this:

I bought Katcher nin Buray (don't ask for a translation, the book's hilarious!) by Mon Suanoy and Mga Tulang Tulala by Kristian Cordero.

     Leir asked me to cover it for ALA's publication, Flyleaf, which will be released on March. And I took the opportunity to take more photos:

     I spent more time sleeping during the whole trip. It's a good thing my pillow's with me. He almost always is, by the way.

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I've been busy illustrating Leir's story for the storybook competition in school. This day's a slow day, however, for I've been stuck drawing Daddy. I don't know how to draw men, evidently.

World Domination

Leir and I never had a decent photo together. I am always the one taking pictures, and he is always the one moving away from the frame, or hiding his face. Both of us are experts in covering our smiles or any part of our face before the shutter closes. And someone might have have a good photo of our backs, but he really cannot be sure if it is us in there. It is as if we were never seen together.

     We started dating about a year ago. I was never really sure when, like the date was as blurred as the last photo I took with him as the subject, and he immediately looked away. It was through a short discussion that we agreed that we started on the 15th of February, 2012, based on the following grounds: (1) he confessed on the 14th; and (2) I held his hand the next day. We had a year parallel to a moving picture, played twice as fast, and cannot be stopped. The protagonists were never really seen in each moving frame, but they're there, behind the white wall, behind the camera man, behind Gordon-Levitt. I never got tired watching, and playing as the tree, or sometimes, as the pillow, or more often, as the girl on a small boat, rowing with him, conquering territories.

       "I hereby declare this 15 February 2013 the world successfully conquered," he wrote on a tissue paper. I'm working on Mars--that's just one thing I can guarantee. 

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I went to Bicol University last Wednesday, for a friendly debate. I think we won.

Tilad-Kaabtan: Esperanza

Around a month ago, I took photos for Leir's short story, Esperanza, which he submitted to the fourth Tilad online literary folio, Kaabtan, of the Ateneo Literary Association (ALA [an organization we're both in]). I actually promised him an illustration, but because of me easily forgetting things, I wasn't able to draw, so I tried to make it up to him by taking the following pictures:

"By 'oh, but—' I knew that the poor boy meant to follow, 'what about us?' I had seen too many of these situations that if I had a heart, it would have broken, no shattered, into a million tiny hearts, and those hearts would split into another million tiny hearts, and so on until they become so tiny they would pass up as sand. They would then create a sandstorm and take vengeance for me." - Esperanza, John Leir Castro

     I told Kuya Pen, the folio's layout artist, to just select one or two. Click this to find out what he picked, to read Leir's prose, and to view the entire folio itself.

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Leir's parents are awesome. I got the chance to meet them yesterday, a bad-hair day. They were polite enough not to mention the hair, hence, they're awesome. The dad's an interior designer, the mom's pretty, and they make a good couple. And Leir's awesome enough to qualify as their son. I was only able to stay with them for an hour or less. Nevertheless, I'm still entitled to say that they're cool, because they are. You could weep three hours per day, and you would still be not as cool as them.

Bookstore #1

There is a top secret bookstore somewhere, quite far from this wooden chair I'm currently disrupting the time continuum with. Since it's again a top secret, I cannot, of course, reveal to you where it is, ergo you would have no means of checking if I am lying or not. I have pictures, however. But you cannot be completely sure with just that too.

As to where these books came from, I don't know.

   
     There is a bookstore, run by nuns, not known to most people, and is far from here. I went there with Jovi, Leir, and Kuya Pen on a windy Tuesday, and with Leir on a rainy Thursday. My goal was to buy philosophical texts, and fiction stories written by known philosophers, that will hopefully help me in writing my future papers. Also, because I secretly dream of becoming a children's book illustrator, I checked the bookstore's stash of... illustrated children's book. Now, that's just unpredictable.
     The goal is just to fancy everything up. I was a hired photographer, actually. The place is going to be featured by a friend, Jovi, for her article in a newsletter, called Flyleaf, the organization I am a member of will be making. Leir's the EIC, and I'm a bored noob photographer. The books are just bonuses.

Maybe, there is a god up there, you know.

   
     During the first day, that is the windy Tuesday, I got all the interesting philosophy books, and placed it on Leir's box of mysteries (fictional), tales, and conspiracies. I was lucky enough to get a copy of Macchiavelli's The Prince, Sartre's The Wall (a compilation of short stories), and Plato's Socratic Dialogues. I cannot not recognize buying L'engle's A Wrinkle in Time, a children's novel and a personal favorite of Leir. And on the second day, the rainy Thursday, I bought Camus' The Outsider (The Stranger), and Milne's Winnie-the-Pooh. All of them are worth 10-pesos each, by the way, since the place is a piece of heaven and I am more blessed than you are.

...or good people. They're not that taboo, after all. 

   
     This bookstore's just one of the many unpopular bookstores here in my place. I promised Jovi that I'll take photos of, if possible, all of them. Or she might abandon the project altogether, leaving me with noth-- Hep, I got books, I should be fine.

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When creating  a new blog, writers are supposed to introduce themselves first, then post their very first article about something else apart from their overt narcissism. The reason why I skipped that part is because this is not new. I'm not a new blogger. I'm, rather, a lazy college student who actually started blogging when she was in high school as Fumbled Apple, got bored with constantly reporting her interests online, and resumed when she was already a sophomore in college as Orangenlime of Tumblr. Evidently, she got tired of that too. Someday this blog is going to be deserted like books on the 8th day of a garage sale.