some things i learned from vicky yesterday afternoon:
1. the british translation of the title the elementary particles by michel houellebecq is atomized. of course i still prefer the former because i read the novel with this title but i have to agree with v. that atomized is indeed sexy.

2. that i should stop staring at men's crotches because the bulge i'm seeing isn't really what i'm thinking it is. so, as a full-blooded female, i was, all this time, staring at an imaginary thing and now i'm reduced to staring at nothing. v. suggests that i stare at nipples. i replied that nipples aren't my thing.


some things vicky learned while passing the time at the ateneo football field bench
1. the a.b. lit program offered by the school is worth looking into.

2. (well, this is more my input) sitting on the bench reminded me of lb, minus the gazillion cars.

3. ateneo certainly has a plan.

*

what is with that phrase "life goes on?" isn't it the default situation, as if one can bail out of it at his own pleasure? (well, there was dong abay who stayed in his room for five years, so, i dunno.) hasn't it been a perpetual, maybe recurring, gig?

but indeed, "life goes on" is really that, life does go on. yes, i know, it's usually uttered after a personal crisis in one's life or a big tragedy that is totally unexpected one wasn't able to step on the brakes or at least take out the emergency kit. emergency kits are rendered useless when tragedy just steamrolls through town, leaves no one uninjured, unaffected, untouched.

"life goes on" is also associated with the biggest heave or sigh of relief a person can make. now, there's a clue - a sigh of relief. whew, as if one nearly missed the last mrt trip of that day and was momentarily hounded with the prospect of traversing through edsa on the actual road. down there. with the buses and cars. whew, as if one narrowly escaped being hit by a car, should the unfortunate person be left to weave through people and vehicles because he missed the last mrt ride. whew, as if one finally finds a comfortable slot in the last bus going to philcoa and can afford a quick shut-eye. whew, as if one's thoughts lingers for a moment, the very lingering already scaring the person, where will my thoughts take me, please don't let them wander into that scary place again, only this time, how unusual, how unfamiliar, how strange, they don't linger, they don't dwell. apparently, there's no dwelling place left for such poisonous thoughts, they're orphans now, they don't have a shelter for the night, would the sewers do?

again, what is the feeling of relief?
no looking back, my little one