When I find myself at the mall, the only place I frequent much was the bookstore. I miss going out on a book-hunting trip especially at National Bookstore - Cubao. The 4th floor section where all these pre-owned books were located, usually demands at least hours of my time. I miss doing that.
I’ve been so much busy with work lately that only on rare occasions would I find myself surfing shelves for books. The past few years I’ve managed to collect some of my favorite writer’s works. The Jack Kerouac, Kurt Vonnegut, Chuck Palahniuk, Alex Garland, Murakami, Hunter S. Thompson, the Neil Gaimans, Douglas Coupland, Martin Amis, Camus and the Tom Robbins of the literary world.
I am proud of my book collection. Reading their works has influenced my way of thinking and how I see the world around me same way how Jack Kerouac’s "On the Road" has inspired me to travel and see more of my country.
I read when I’m happy, I read when I’m pissed, I read when I’m a bit heartbroken (haha), I read when I’m going somewhere far, I read when I’m bored, I read (or at least try to) before going to bed.
These books serves as my companion during times not so bright and ideally I get new sets of wisdom from my books, the stories, the killer proses are what rekindles my desire to get back up every morning and try to delight even in the absurdities of everyday - redundant events.
Not all the time I could relive Jack Kerouac’s life on the road or even Hunter S. Thompson’s frenzied, drug induced hallucination trip to the Mojave desert. Each day though I could be that working class character in a Kurt Vonnegut book minus the mad science fiction plot. Or better a sex addict character from a Chuck Palahniuk novel haha.
At the end of long tiring day, or from any long journey I do find myself looking forward to my nesting cage. My room where my books can accompany me and lead me to an escape from the sometimes harsh realities of everyday living.
Writing - as I see it, has served as a form of therapy to myself second to traveling. Although both do go hand in hand on rare occasion. I travel then afterward I write about it. However, as much as I’d love to do nothing but travel, I need to spend most of my time at work and the in-between. The awaiting for that next journey, the time that I exist making it all possible. This is where writing serves me a whole lot of other purposes.
I’ve been blogging since 2000 - When I joined our university org’s yahoogroup and instead of posting short messages to update each other about the club’s happenings - I, instead wrote long, arduous sentences that formed paragraphs that eventually ended up as essays.
I bet, nobody bothered to read all of it hehe. When the social networking boom happened sometime around 2003 during at which, Friendster made an appearance in our lives, I blogged on the bulletin boards, while my friends would post survey answers, I posted long random ramblings to which I am fairly sure nobody bothered to click and open.
Then I discovered blogsites such as blogger, wordpress and even social networking sites such as Myspace and Multiply that caters to other bloggers / frustrated writers such as myself. In there, I found a small community that really took time to reading other people’s blogs. I was even more prodded to write more until I ended up with over 300 blog entries in a span of 3 years at Multiply.com alone.
Time gets by and I kind of grew tired of the process, nowadays I only maintain a travel blog called Nomadic Experiences - a collection of narratives with photographs of my trips around the Philippines.
Doing so I only blogged every once in a while, after going home from a long journey from somewhere. The itch to blog once in a while about the time in between might have gotten hold of me again. As much as I dont see any interesting things happening in my life outside of my travel experiences, at first glance I don’t see any reasons to start blogging again nor inspiration to kick-start a habit I was once passionate about.
But, as I’ve learned that one can always write about something as long as one keeps an open eye to everything around him. That’s why with eyes wide open I have decided to yet create another blog here at Tumblr.com.
It would be interesting for me to see if I can devour myself (again) to lessen my time of idleness and instead try to make things meaningful by just letting myself live within the moment and create meaning, which by any means can be stretched into yet another one long arduous collection of words that forms a sentence, that creates a paragraph and therefore weaving all these narratives into one collected thought, that hopefully will end up as a definitive memento of my everyday existence in between traveling far and beyond.