Sifting through memory lane has reminded me of who I was and has somewhat helped solidify the image of the person I believe I can be.
This is the culture that social media has created spurred on by anonymity and virtual distance. Anyone can be anyone or someone else.
I was mostly looking forward to surprising the delivery guy by opening the door before he could ring the bell.
It was open enough for me to hear the old man say, “Tignan mo ‘to!” directing his wife’s attention to my car while she trailed him. “Ang TANGA naman ng nag-park nito,” he said with a hint of anger in his voice and a strong emphasis on the word “Tanga”.
Hearing them recount their experiences had me wondering if society and their environment could have contributed to their past mistakes. It makes you wonder if criminals were born or made.
I feel inside me is this one person seated on a chair under a ceiling lamp inside a very dark room surrounded by all seven.
So I booted my laptop, powered the electric kettle, and tore a sachet of that vile powdered chemical they call 3-in-1 coffee mix–a disgrace to actual coffee.
If you do not mind my attempt at S. Holmes–through careful and ingenious deduction, my dear Diary, I have come to a very elementary conclusion that these series of Likes and Follows are nothing short of a marketing plot.
Reminds you of a movie crime scene where the detective stares at the victim while holding a cup of joe. Then a police officer approaches him; a notebook in hand. “There was a struggle says one of the witnesses.”