Word Stack or A Pile of Thoughts

As I write this, Lozada is pwning the Arroyo administration with the help of the Philippine Senate.  My friend just won the Valentine’s Song Writing Competition for the second time in a row, with a piece that could very well have been written for an Andrew Lloyd Webberish musical.  The lecture on non-violence completely wiped all my depression over lacking something interesting to poke.  In the US, Obama is sweeping the Democrat caucus, and Hillary just fired her campaign manager.  It seems like this week some severe pwnage is being wreaked in my world. 

But that comes with the temperature dropping to a frigid 34 degrees F, and that’s not cool (haha).

Driving around the city tonight, listening to some Satriani pieces, I passed by a few places where I made memories, and it got me thinking about stuff about Dumaguete that I’ll be nostalgic about sooner than later. 

- The breakwater along the Hayahay-Looc front, where I used to bike while listening to a minidisc player I lifted from my sister.

- Sitting at the edge of the docks, watching people fish, thinking about stowing away on the ships (this was after reading a book by Jimmy Buffet Margueritaville).

- Sneaking to the top of the AS building at night to stargaze.

It seems like the most fun I had was in those first two years of being in Silliman.  Of course, with my father taking the position, a lot of my activities were curtailed.  But more than that, I had obligations to fulfill for the family, as well as the influence of my father to reach for more in my college experience.  I remember telling myself at the beginning of my first year, that I was here only to earn a degree, so I could get a nice job.  I wasn’t overly concerned about the level of education I was getting; I just wanted to experience life.  There weren’t as many frustrations.  A lot changed when my dad became the university president, and I don’t know if that was good for my Self (capitalized in the philosophical sense of the subject…Foucault, whatever).  But the later half of my college seems to have done for me something that I know that laid some serious foundations for my approach to learning.  My love for living life, getting lost in the moment, having fun– that’s all something that really won’t leave.  As long as I keep my sense of freedom, that fun won’t be far from reach when I want it or need it.  However, it was only through my father’s guidance, as well as a handful of other teachers, who made me think about things that really made my experience in Silliman a lot different from my classmates and peers.  The whole landscape of wanting to study in LSE and/or Cal starts here.  The whole idea of finding my big idea starts here.  And along the way, I’ll play-out my own adventures– hat, jacket, slingbag, knife and boots.

But I’ll miss what I leave behind; not in the deep, longing sort of missing, but rather in the nostalgic introspective sort of missing, the kind you get when you catch sight of something familiar, or hear a phrase or a taste something just barely there, and it triggers a memory of a place and a phase of life.

What next?

This entry was posted on Tuesday, February 12th, 2008 at 7:46 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.