Space
Posted by: justine on: Wed, 01/11/12
You know it’s there. You can see it, but could you really? How could one see the existence of nothing? The absence of an alphanumeric character?
I never really questioned spaces ’til I was told to delete a space ’cause apparently there were two.
Two spaces. Two absences. Two “nothings.”
I obeyed. I saw nothing, I deleted nothing.
The world is absurd.
I Don’t Understand
Posted by: justine on: Thu, 12/1/11
- why almost everyone tap the Enter key like it’s the reason for whatever crap they’re dealing with
- why I tend to look at other people’s coffee mugs and try to analyze their personalities based on the amount of powdered coffee they put in
- why women continue to try putting makeup on during a bumpy car ride
- why some people think it’s okay to sneeze without a hanky over their mouths especially when inside an air-conditioned public vehicle
- why we love celebrity gossips
- why I’m related to a conceivably possible habitual liar
- why Kristen Stewart was never replaced as Bella Swan
- why I was introduced to rice
- why people try so hard
- why I allowed my alter ego to press that Publish button
Yuletide
Posted by: justine on: Fri, 11/25/11
Then. Once upon a time, I was a flag. It was my elementary teacher who pushed me to be one. You are to represent our Motherland, she said. My grandma was beyond happy to make me a dress. Three stars and a sun, puffed sleeves, red, blue. I don’t remember how I felt that day, but that jurassic photo hidden somewhere inside my room shows no sign of glee.
Now. They were careful to use that C word just one time. Then they hid it behind pretty nouns and adjectives. Come in costume, that’s what it should say, come in the most creative and most unique costume.
An Idiot Meets An Idiom
Posted by: justine on: Fri, 07/1/11
Someone told me that a great way to welcome the second half of the year is by writing an awesome blog post that could give Ernest Hemingway a run for his money. I thought, utter bullcrap. Why compete with someone who can run no longer? And I’m pretty sure 50 years of underground isolation would ‘ve rendered him penniless.
Oh heavens, shoot me. For this post alone, I beg you to shoot me.
The heart is not the only organ we have.
Posted by: justine on: Tue, 06/28/11
- In: Psychoanalysis | Reality
- 6 Comments
X: Sometimes we say too much or write too much, dismissing the fact that maybe someone somewhere feels singled out, pierced by the words we’ve spun. That and the uncomfortable status of tingling loneliness. That and the desperate moans issuing from their hearts. It’s never wrong to let the world know how happy you are, but a little sensitivity might help those whose hearts break.
Y: We were told to share our happiness. To declare that which makes our hearts skip a beat. Would others’ pain be upon my shoulders if I publicly announced how happy I am? It’s never fair to hinder one’s happiness just because someone feels unhappy. One’s not a victim if s/he feels uncomfortable because of someone’s happiness.
X: The heart cannot be taught what it must feel.
Y: The heart is not the only organ we have.
