Friday, December 21, 2012

Originally written November 28, 2012



My creative muse is summoning me in a rather unusual time of the day—for the normal person, at least.

It’s 3:30 A.M. and I am currently in a McDonald’s having a meal of cheeseburger and fries which serves as my lunch. It’s the first day of my week-long vacation leave and my messed-up body clock forgot about it, so I am here following an American time zone… or that of Mogadishu, or freaking Timbuktu. Whatever. Fact is, I just woke up and suddenly wanted to write something.

My fries are hard, stale, and tasteless. The Sprite tastes of floodwater. The cheeseburger is too oily. A gang of call center agents are sitting in front of me talking in their maximum volume. Dave Grohl is one of the coolest people alive. I dreamt that a group of Filipino artists formed an Oasis tribute band and it was unspeakably rubbish… not that I am attacking the artists per se, but they chose the wrong people to do the job. I mean, Top Suzara as Liam Gallagher? What the actual flying f---? The Kurt Cobain book I recently purchased talked to me in an email.

I can barely remember what I was listening to before I started listening to Oasis. My memories that Noel Gallagher would not be happy about were abruptly flushed down a Champagne Supernova and replaced by a lot of British bands that my friends haven’t heard of. I am not sure if I really want to continue writing at this time and in this place, or just watch my recently downloaded episodes of New Girl instead. If someone would ask me who my girl crush is, it’s most definitely Zooey Deschanel.
I really want to write something. I’ll organize my thoughts. My muse is distracted by the laughter of these call center agents talking about a trip to SM Baguio. As in THE SM Baguio. Why take a trip to nature’s serial killers, I thought. But they won’t listen to my opinion because they don’t know me.

I promise I’ll be writing decent, coherent thoughts on my next entry.

No comments: