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I have a lot of varying interests over the years and I am overtly fond of starting things that I am almost always unable to see through the end. I could be convincing myself to run and sweat buckets one day, the next one I could be psyching myself to learn another language, then the week after I’d be obsessing on where to probably get a cheap-ass cello so I can finally learn to play the damn thing, a month after I could be poring over three-inch-thick books after stopping halfway through a Shel Silverstein work just because, and who knows in maybe a year, I could be trying to prove I can cook something that is not sinigang, nilagang baka, or fried egg.

Anyway, bottom line — I want to do a lot of things and my interest on each of those things shifts as quickly as a chameleon threatened with imminent death. 

Thankfully, though, there are six of those things that have at least stuck with me all through the past I dunno how many years.


This was supposed to be my entry for the “FSP: You” project, wherein you’re supposed to stay in your own home or space or whatever and create a narrative from there. I basically had a whole month to do this and that was more than enough time to churn out at least something, right? But since I barely stayed home the whole of November, well, let’s just say I wasn’t able to do it in time.

(Imma just chalk this up as one of those shoganai things, which apparently I have a rather long list of. Can’t be helped, man, it is what it is, I am what I am, that list could sink to the bottom of the ocean for all I care.)