You can run, but you can't hide.
I am supposed to start posting my next travelogue but opted to compose this ‘nonsensical blab’ instead. I just wanted to write them down and get it over it. I couldn’t promise any coherence or logic. But allow me such indulgence.
I keep hearing my boss badmouthing someone on the phone and it irks me.
And then his friend comes to his cubicle (which is just a wall away from mine so that I could hear everything, even though I don’t like to hear any of his business). My boss tells the story about this person he’s badmouthing and the two of them start to talk in such a conniving way. I noticed that this has become an annoying habit of theirs everytime my boss gets irritated to someone. Most of the time, I also don’t like the people he is badmouthing but that doesn't give him any reason to talk behind people’s back. And must I hear every detail of what they’re talking? It's like I am an accessory to his crime. I love playing innocent all the time. But sometimes, the extra baggage gets to me. I should get a new earphone, immediately.
I hate it when my boss laughs. Most of all, I hate it whenever he insists that I maintain his PhD in his byline. Everyone knows he’s got PhD, what is the fuss? I wonder if all PhD people have this kind of attitude.
Someone said a lot of “sorry” to me. He apologized via text and did it again personally. What he has done is way beyond me. And I hated his guts for doing it. Well, he’s drunk what can I do? I guess alcohol puts a tinge of that evil side in all of us and it comes out when we’re drunk. A tinge of that is toxic and even though it sprinkles in small dosage, it's enough to kill a heart. He still sees it as a joke but we didn’t find it funny. I did not find it funny. So anyway, I accepted his apology. What can I do? I hated the fact that I hate someone. I am having a hard time finishing my work. I cannot concentrate. I have forgiven him, but I haven’t forgotten what he did. I just don’t see the point of not getting along with the person whom I chose to be my friend in the first place.
I need to write 4,000-word essays on the topic of childhood memories. It doesn’t have to be all true so I thought, “this would be easy.” But for the last couple of days, I’ve been trying to write but I couldn’t. I started with a few words and ended up with a blank page all over again. I hated not being in the mood. One more thing, I couldn’t even remember anything from my childhood that is worthy of writing.
I ought to get a bike! A road bike!
What is more frustrating than wanting to go somewhere but could not?
I wanted to travel badly, but my mother squandered all my money! Well, she didn’t. I gave it to her, so she could invest it for me wisely. And she did. Now I don’t have anything to squander.
I wanted to learn a new language. Forget about French. I don’t know if I could start all over again but I really wanted to learn Hangul. And I wanted to go to