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Category: Ramblings

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life is a warm vinyl record filling the room. across walls of orange toned photographs and watercolor forests, pencil sketches and album covers. sitting on the foot of the bed. or dancing. nothing in tow but sincerity, no promises except for getting drunk on high spirits. mysteries never ready to reveal, curiosity that is never lonely. sun jars glowing on the balcony, home-made melodies that last well beyond the night's slumber.

i got lost for a few seconds tonight while i strummed a few notes on the guitar that hasn't sang in a while. i whispered a few words into someone's sleepy dream. and for a few seconds i felt that i was really communicating something. no matter if the audience had been asleep, or the notes were off kilter. but the reality of what i wanted to say was how it came out. quite rare, considering i maintain a constant struggle to validate abstract thoughts and feelings into jumbled words, pixelated images, random knickknacks that never really answer the questions posed by my mind's imagery. but for a few seconds tonight, i found my own footing. and quite apt, that half of it was shared in a dream..

i met a middle-aged couple at the airline lounge before i left manila, and had an interesting conversation about our backgrounds, and a little insight about their 25-year old son. the guy was dating a russian hottie, and from the mom's perspective, wasn't really a good idea because of how the sitation played out - they met randomly in california while she was traveling with a bunch of other friends. the girls came with no money, no plans, and no intentions. and hence comes the couple's son, where from the mom's perspective he has the achilles heel of falling in love too fast and spends too much money on his ladies. spending all his money with no career path in sight, and trying to pursue the dream of a musician's slumber in the heart of california. i didn't really explain well, but i figured on reassuring the couple that it's only a matter of time before the pieces should fit for their son while he's in the middle of a career fog fairly typical of our generation, as this piece forwarded to me by jj attests to the brews of a quarter life crisis.

the randomness of traveling alone. i like.

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