Migrated Entry 01

Bare (Lazy) Bones

While there are days when I just want to lie down and sleep, wake up and sleep again, there are actually quite a number of days when I feel up and going.
*Sigh* I honestly do not know what to write about.
What pops into my head is Henry’s last write up in Beacon. It was so senti, so drama and so un-Henry that I actually thought (for a split second) that Henry was high when he wrote that. Of course the facts were facts, but I never thought that my hard-balled-political-writing friend can whip up things like that. Of course I dare not comment on the other articles because they are in the past. Oh, you know.*Wink*
I miss writing for Beacon, even when only a sordid handful read the damned thing. I miss debate even when we don’t break (though we often do). I miss the Union and travelling in a bus for more than 18 hours just to speak for something like a total of 28-35 minutes (double that if we break) in debate competitions. The ratty Beacon Office, the place where I slept the whole day in when I had a fever. I miss the greasy feel of the back canteen and the delightful monstrosity we call Chinito’s. I miss the J’s (I only call them that in my mind): Jon, Jams and yes, Jhing. Oh, gosh, I miss that school, that city. And no, I do not miss S.

(Note to MR: I never resent the article to you. Why would I give those readers of yours tips on how to cope with the traffic, price and life here? They should suffer. *Evil laugh* Kidding aside, I just thought that it wasn’t my place anymore.)

I went out a while ago and I saw a welcome banner sign out front a school. I tried to remember what it feels like to have the first day excitement. I miss that feeling,too. There are lots of things I missed and am missing after having thrust myself into this new world a tad too early.
But well, anyway, Henry texted me and told me that I was the only absentee in our biannual meetings at Coffeemix with Marco. That made me kinda sad. Those were cheap, student-on-a-budget meetings but they were fun. Sobra.
I have fun now, too. There are a lot of fun places here. I with a fun person (most of the time). But this is not fun-fun. It’s just fun. I hope you know what I mean.
I might be going home, who really knows? I surely don’t know myself. Is it a sad thing? I keep myself brewing by writing stories and stories that never get to have an ending. I have like a whole notebook of intros and middles and beginnings and endings that do not match. I hope they have a life of their own that will spawn soon. I surely will love that. If anything, it’ll be an assurance that I am still myself, Ems.
Ramble. Ramble.
Largo ya ’ste. Thanks for stopping by and don’t forget to get yourself a cookie