UNE
How do broken flowers look like?People are breaking up. Some have already broken up. At the same time, there are also those who want to rekindle old flames. All of this happens, as I reap the benefits of being single.
I took a walk along the old memory lane; the lane concerning "that letter (and add 's to "the letter") which I dare not mention". I felt nothing actually. I didn't reminisce. Okay, I did thought about past memoirs but there were no sparks. No traces of regrets, of remembering how it felt, of wanting to go back. I realized a bit later that perhaps I am contented with the way I live. Very often I would nag at my closest friends, "What are the odds of me getting married?". At times, I knew I was just kidding. (Yes, I was) But then something occured to me. I am indeed happy.
Last Saturday, as I did a Bob Harris, people were looking at me as I sat and ate alone in a restaurant. I couldn't help but wonder what those people could have mumbled in their inner thoughts about my solitude. Hypothesizing, I bet the group of boys on my left might have thought what a loser I was. The mother sitting across me could have wondered if I was waiting for a date or if I was hooking up with someone. Surprisingly, what prompted me to smile was the Carrie Bradshaw-aged woman to my right. We were kind of similar in every possible way, except for the age, of course. I sat there watching her eat her cheeze pizza and read her messages. Later on, Michael Buble would start to sing and pump my frantic fantasies. At this point, I even had a hallucination of pulling off a Benjamin Braddock - Mrs. Robinson but I was too tamed to do so.
Walking alone is one of my favorite moments. It gives me time to think about matters I couldn't manage when I am occupied with other things. I even absorb inspiration as I embrace blankness in this routine. Aside from my "Adaptation" motivation to dig inspiration, walking alone is one of the best ways for me to pile up information and inspiration, realization even. A proof of this was the recent success of my short film. Although I wasn't that happy after the shooting due to dissatisfaction, someway, somehow, perhaps thanks to my "insane manner of thinking" that manifested in my editing, I managed to pull it off. People loved it, which kind of surprised me. Add the fact that they loved the narration which they would not believe that it was I who did it. Well, just like good ol' indie filmmakers do, I don't give a damn about words that come out of people's mouths so long as I was able to deliver my piece. This another good thing about being single - you get to prioritize your work better.
Right now, I'm having a dilemma whether the film is good enough to be released in a hostile environment like, say a video open. I know I'll get through this. With a long walk, some good friends and a glass of vodka to aide me, I'll be done in a jiffy. It sure is fun to be une.
I took a walk along the old memory lane; the lane concerning "that letter (and add 's to "the letter") which I dare not mention". I felt nothing actually. I didn't reminisce. Okay, I did thought about past memoirs but there were no sparks. No traces of regrets, of remembering how it felt, of wanting to go back. I realized a bit later that perhaps I am contented with the way I live. Very often I would nag at my closest friends, "What are the odds of me getting married?". At times, I knew I was just kidding. (Yes, I was) But then something occured to me. I am indeed happy.
Last Saturday, as I did a Bob Harris, people were looking at me as I sat and ate alone in a restaurant. I couldn't help but wonder what those people could have mumbled in their inner thoughts about my solitude. Hypothesizing, I bet the group of boys on my left might have thought what a loser I was. The mother sitting across me could have wondered if I was waiting for a date or if I was hooking up with someone. Surprisingly, what prompted me to smile was the Carrie Bradshaw-aged woman to my right. We were kind of similar in every possible way, except for the age, of course. I sat there watching her eat her cheeze pizza and read her messages. Later on, Michael Buble would start to sing and pump my frantic fantasies. At this point, I even had a hallucination of pulling off a Benjamin Braddock - Mrs. Robinson but I was too tamed to do so.
Walking alone is one of my favorite moments. It gives me time to think about matters I couldn't manage when I am occupied with other things. I even absorb inspiration as I embrace blankness in this routine. Aside from my "Adaptation" motivation to dig inspiration, walking alone is one of the best ways for me to pile up information and inspiration, realization even. A proof of this was the recent success of my short film. Although I wasn't that happy after the shooting due to dissatisfaction, someway, somehow, perhaps thanks to my "insane manner of thinking" that manifested in my editing, I managed to pull it off. People loved it, which kind of surprised me. Add the fact that they loved the narration which they would not believe that it was I who did it. Well, just like good ol' indie filmmakers do, I don't give a damn about words that come out of people's mouths so long as I was able to deliver my piece. This another good thing about being single - you get to prioritize your work better.
Right now, I'm having a dilemma whether the film is good enough to be released in a hostile environment like, say a video open. I know I'll get through this. With a long walk, some good friends and a glass of vodka to aide me, I'll be done in a jiffy. It sure is fun to be une.
Kram's cut at 9:28 PM |
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