“November 1: I think I need to take it easier on myself.”
My tickler is full of reminders I give myself on red-letter holidays; reminders I don’t usually follow because I either forget, or I don’t follow my own advice. On my birthday, I reminded myself to quit smoking. Valentine’s Day, I reminded myself to take it easy on the drink. A friend had to lay it on me on this red-letter day: I take too much joy in self-mortification. It seems that I’m at my best when I’m depressed. Although it’s what she said afterward that really hit hard: what would I become at my worst?
It’s the first of November, and everywhere I see changes, mostly from my friends who are more than willing and able to change their lives for the better. A friend underwent surgery to lose weight. An acquaintance voluntarily entered a rehab program. Still another friend gave up her career to pursue her dreams of becoming a doctor. Oh sure, I’ve gone through many changes, but I still can’t stand to look at that face in the mirror.
I haven’t done this in a while, so I’m probably very rusty.
For this long overdue attempt in lyrics translations, I’m looking over some songs in my iTunes music library that could probably be translated. Not that translated songs are more awesome than the original, but you never know what the outcome will be until you finally translate it, and “proofread” it by actually singing it. However, that is something that I will never do again, except in closed-door videoke sessions.
Let’s get on with it, or get it over with, whatever. Since I’m rusty, I can only manage three today.
There’s just that one moment that Makati doesn’t seem so congested, where you won’t run across random strangers or tired office workers. The underpasses offer that very short moment of silence and solitude… until someone from Ayala Avenue or Makati Avenue makes his or her way down the overpass and disturbs your peace.
Maybe an office worker without a long weekend. Maybe a tourist exploring the maze that is the Makati pedestrian system. Or maybe someone from maintenance, assigned to clean the floor. There is no escaping people here; except in those moments where there’s nobody around. Just you and your own shadow, you and your own breath, choosing a path to go to.
Then again, someone entered the underpass, and I hightailed it out of there. To wherever. To find solitude in a place where there is no silence.