splendid moonlight

I often wondered why I continually put myself in a situation wherein I would lack sleep and feel awful the next day. Then I realize, with half of me hoping it isn't true, that I do so in order to put myself in a sort of trance as I go about most of my daily stuff. I find that when I'm in this state, I can focus on the things that matter; I tend not to sweat the small stuff, heck, I don't notice the small stuff, because all I want to do is to get everything over and done with so I can go home and

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I bumped into a video of a beautiful girl named Eva who died of cystic fibrosis who documented her struggle with the disease online (I think her experience with the disease is about to be made into a movie).

Along with the recent death of our beloved kitten Ew2x - that's what we called him since he had the cutest "ew-ew" sounding Meow we ever heard in a kitten - who's lovely beyond words, it struck me one more time, in the same day, that life is fleeting.

So

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Most of my favorite books are "accidental" finds. I found one of them in Book Sale SM on a particularly aimless day. It had really great reviews on the back and came in a nice green old school feel cover that I liked. So I bought it not really expecting anything, and found myself blown away.

Some of my favorite books were shoved in front of my face by my brother. Still sort of accidental because I would never have chosen them if it were up to me. He would not stop talking

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I’m a little bit embarrassed by some of my old posts here in istorya. The fact that your old posts show up somewhere in your profile the moment someone hits “like” doesn’t help. But if anything, I realize how much I’ve changed over the years.


For one thing, I no longer blame myself for relationships that didn’t work. Sometimes blaming one’s self - or in my own words “i could have loved u. and love u i did! wa lang nako ma tarong ug show” (I’m trying my very best not

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I find myself staring at books on my Shelfari page. I find myself removing Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice from my Favorites shelf. I find myself wondering if it was the right thing to do. After all, Jane’s long sentences and use of the word “affected” were fascinating to me and I knew I wouldn’t soon forget her. I found myself wanting, as I laid on the futon on the floor of my old room, to be as witty as Elizabeth.

And of course, there was Mr. Darcy - intelligent, handsome, brooding

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