Pointlessness is all about making things without having to.

It was bleary, I was groggy and both of them combined to be some sort of hangover that seem to occur the mornings after Monday, so it was quite a heavy awakening, and it took me some self-assurance (and nagging) to get me up and brush my teeth.


It sort of drizzled in the morning, and the skies today has a sort of cataclysmic imminence spelled all over it. It was the sort of weather the TV newscaster would say, “Ladies and gentlemen… I think we’re about to get motherf***ed”. Therefore it was cold and bleak, and so much to start the day.


But there isn’t much to talk about today. Dad was on the train and LRT with me; his car was in the workshop for the umpteen time this few months, and as per usual occasions in which we both found ourselves in a train wedged between people, we were more or less quiet.


I am always under the impression that my dad would look completely put of place in public transportation; there is always the image of a grizzly bear cantering in a shopping mall unawares of the screams and shouts. And there he was, sitting in the middle seat of three, arms folded with his sunglasses on so that I wouldn’t know if he had his eyes closed or he was scowling at the destitute impression of the commuting world. Just like a grizzly bear, only that people are used to it, just as much as they’re used to the elephant seal standing at the sliding doors, the ostrich reading Amy Tan and the iguana leisurely propping himself at the glass divider looking like a jade mannequin.


Somewhere near my stop he drew 10 bucks from his wallet and ordered that I take the cab to class, his reason that it was raining and that I’m a profound git for thinking of walking to class. So I did like a good boy and grabbed a cab with a driver that seems to detest the world in the way it was chock full of distrust and trickery. His motto (which I have gotten to know in the short minutes of sitting beside him) was ‘screw thinking big because you’re going to fail’ and ‘becoming a boss? You’ll lose it all!’ (he said in Cantonese and made it rhyme, so my translations won’t do justice).


Before dropping me off he commented that journalism would probably render me perpetually poor and miserable. I told him that it’s all about fighting to the top, and success is how you make for it, and he laughed in a content sort of way, said “good for you”, and stopped at where I pointed. He happily bid me farewell, “may we meet again if fate has it,” and I bade him good luck and good day.


One of the rare, good taxi rides you get.


And then it was boredom in class, and once more I drew and slept and listened to things not related to my studies. For tutorials Mr. Money let us out an hour earlier, so I made home in the damp afternoon, bought me a packet of rice and spent my lunch fending Marley off my feet (Marley is the surprise from the previous post. He is feisty, he is always hungry and he pounces at my feet. Other than that, he’s cute the way puppies are).


The rest of the day was just as unremarkable… I don’t even know why I’m writing this. Perhaps it is a subliminal means of escaping my impending start of my final assignment. Procrastinate!


Yeah… well, time I try to start. Good night people.


Music: The Firebird Suite - Igor Stravinsky


Classical at its utmost best.