It's that time of the week again, throwback Thursday. People usually spam my social feeds with anything old. I get amused each time. Thursday has become a wonderful prelude to the last work day of the week for me. Well, on off peak audit season that is.
I have the habit of doodling and scribbling my thoughts on paper. With more advanced technology, I type on my phone and my laptop. It's not the therapeutic benefits I was after (I didn't know of it at first), I wanted me to remember. I wanted to look back how everything was and hopefully see myself in the future reading, finally in the know of why it had to happen, why we have to let go of people we are not meant to have and how everything was indeed for the best. So when I had my long vacation last month, my agenda was to scour for them and transfer them digitally. I started with notebooks I had in college, my old phone (outbox was overflowing with cheesy stuff), my old documents saved in the laptop I handed down to my baby bro and from scraps of paper tucked in books, notebooks and the treasure box lying under my bed. Sifting through the contents of my treasure box was amusing too. I have kept most of the letters and notes friends, family and uhm, boys that have fascinated (or not) me once upon a time since elementary. I forgot I printed email threads, archived Yahoo and Friendster conversations (and testimonials remember them?). God, outside looking in I looked indifferent but I was really one sentimental girl.
I guess, every Thursday.. I would post some of the stuff I managed to transfer digitally; unsent letters and stories I wrote for someone, for my future self and for Stranger (who used to be Mr. Darcy in other writings but since it is impossible to find this awesome dude in this modern age I changed his name).
So I'm starting off with this below since I'm listening to Coldplay's Clocks. This was undated but I'm guessing this was around 2006. College freshman year.
"...i walked back alone. to wait for Papa to come pick me up. i sat on the bench and did more waiting. i counted each person exiting the gates. 50. the clock read half past 9. tick. tock. tick. tock. it's a reminder that the world's moving. but as long as i haven't shaken the instinct of calling you in the quiet, i am not part of that world. not yet."
On a lighter note, I made a caption of this photo taken in Butuan. This was during Typhoon Ondoy. Ironically, when Metro Manila was submerged in flood we were having the time of our lives.
"I must have been really happy. I didn't mind having my picture taken smiling and laughing in the most unflattering way. I felt free. It was one of the rare times when I was allowed to travel unchaperoned. Dear God, after college, am I really going to earn my independence? No hatid sundo? No Yaya. No friends from the police escorting me back home when Papa is out of town for conferences? Is this how it feels like to be free?"
I read somewhere that there is a difference between being nostalgic for a particular person and a shared memory. I'm still trying to work on that. I have theories but I still cannot express in a way where my thoughts get through.
But anyway, I digress. Happy Throwback Thursday!