Last night someone verbally presumed my disinterest with certain things.
I must not expound on these ‘certain things’ lest this post becomes a lengthy exposition on First Day High: The Joys and Tribulations of the First Day of School of a First-Time Pre-school Teacher (Who Has Dreamed for this Day Since Forever) in a First World Locale from the Perspective of a Disinterested Disillusioned Third World Citizen Dreaming for a Socialist Philippines in the Near Future.
It’s not so much as it was not entirely true, it was more that someone merely presumed something about me. Made me think. For a millisecond (or longer), what people thought of me. What little people thought of me. (Or how highly they do.) It was a tiny jolt, immaterial, had it not struck at the right place, at the right time. But it’s not about this, even. What others think wouldn’t matter, in the end. Because really the bulb shone on me. Made me think further. Of things that do interest me. And those that don’t. Good thing, it was just a short flicker. For God knows I could fill thousands of pages with stuff that interest me.
People. Architecture. Films. Politics. Hollywood. Fashion. Music. Literature. Poetry. Comic Strip. Art. Travel. TV. Food. Technology. Nature. Sports. Celebrities. Counter-culture. Spirituality. Trivia. Mass Struggle. Chocolate. China. Japan. Social Development. Archaeology. Calligraphy. Photography. Wine. Education. New York Living. Manolo Blanik. The Philosophy of Ayn Rand. Sports. Rem Koolhaas. SOM. Flipflops. Mindanao. Epiphanies. Hair-raising moments. Imperialist Manila. International Cuss Words.
I could be interested in anything and everything for all I know as I’m set to discover new things every second of each day. And I could not even bother thinking about those that don’t. These things, they will reveal themselves to me in time. Besides, this introspection is giving me a brain tumor, I could feel the slimy shit squirming inside my brain.