You used to text me the room number, and I'd waltz there like a madman. You would wait behind the door and greet me with the softest kiss I would ever know; take my bag and cover the bible on the desk with it.
I still go back to that first time I hugged you in front of a huge mirror-- with my lips on your neck, your hand reaching for my head. I would turn you around and watch you slowly take one button after the other from my long sleeve polo. I used to think that I had the world at my fingertips.
You said, "I wish we will always be like this." I remember, because I had that conversation with those who came after you as well.
cancelled my creative cloud subscription because i need to cut my expenses. but i feel bad because i feel that my subscription is the only thing keeping me close to my passion project (kintal press folio + mag). i hate that i cannot find anyone who has the same vision that i have. fck me
I don't usually see strangers when I walk home. With my earbuds on and my music louder than the street noise, it's always as if there's only me and the night.
But some nights are different than others. Tonight, the laughs of the BPO agents across me on the jeepney ride home were louder than Noah Kahan's Still. I don't even know the song, but I still felt robbed of a peace even this government cannot promise-- much less provide.
Outside the window, I saw two men-- by a table with beers and playing cards-- immersed in a conversation I'll have no way of knowing about, probably something about sports or women. Nothing new. But a conversation nonetheless.
I think there's some benefits to being confined in an enclosed office, far from nonsensical conversations-- those workplace gossips, biased opinions, and unsolicited advice. It's just a little too much when all I give and get are the hi-hellos through the hallways.
I wouldn't go so far to say I have so much substance to feed anyone who dares to strike a conversation with me, but I do think I can give more than sarcasm and sexual innuendos if anyone's ever ready to hear them.
I hate how I crave for your presence, that I want to see you again and hope that I'll have the courage to ask for your kiss.
I'm not even sure if it's you that I like or just your warmth. Attraction is confusing that way.
I want to serve you, but I also feel that that would be exhausting somehow. I want your naked self and your mess, but I know that I'll get bored sometimes.
I want to keep you, but I also want to protect you from me; or am I protecting myself from you and the pain that losing you might cost? Perhaps, I am protecting us from a future we wouldn't be able to bear.
Buhayin natin yung @kintalpress . I'm thinking of creating a new issue with the theme "Other Lives" which will focus on Creatives and their Day Jobs.
Instead of just creating a collection of submitted artworks and literary works, I'm hoping we can interview a few people to add some feature articles in the folio.
Is anyone here interested in joining the team who will work on the folio? This will be pro bono for now. Passion project lang sana natin for the creative community.
Is 32k still a liveable salary?:) annyeong hasseyo merry christmas desu
That's a good question.
I think it is a liveable salary if all you want is that-- live. Although one might argue that living paycheck to paycheck is not a way to live.
If you want to start a family, buy a house or car of your own, enjoy any food you like or travel a lot, then 32k just wouldn't suffice, especially if you don't receive health benefits and the like; so you have to save a few pesos for health emergencies and house/car maintenance.
All in all, I think it's just a question of what you want and need.