Month: July 2010

The 30-Day Letters Project

Eons ago, The Pizza-Worshipping Monkey Keeper gave me a challenge to write letters, one day at a time, to 30 various entities (and non-entities). The challenge also entailed posting the missives on a blog.

At first I planned to post it in another blog – the secret one whose password I kept forgetting. But I realized that The Broken Coffee Cafe walls are a nicer venue on which I could stick daily letters. Part of the interior decor.

You see, if the cafe existed on the physical plane and it actually has the weathered brown brick walls mellowed with age, these letters will be placed on the west wall beside the fireplace. They’d be gilt-framed and written-in-blood calligraphies on 100% acid-free recycled paper. You, as a cafe patron, would be able to give cursory glances to it over your cup of regular java or iced caramel macchiato. Who knows? Those gilt-framed notes might even inspire you to start your own letter-writing project.

So, dear patrons, please bear with me for the next thirty days when I wax sentimental and try to meet the Monkey Keeper’s challenge. Also, it will be another confirmation of two things about my personality: deranged and sappy.

(An aside: The letters were initially posted as regular blog posts, but I decided to gather all of them in one place. If you are interested in reading letters that are not addressed to you, click here to see what things I’ve written for the addressees below.)

If you are interested in trying the 30-day Letter-Writing Project, the following would serve as a guide as to whom you would address your letters:

Day 1 — Your Best Friend
Day 2 — Your Crush
Day 3 — Your parents
Day 4 — Your sibling (or closest relative)
Day 5 — Your dreams
Day 6 — A stranger
Day 7 — Your Ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/love/crush
Day 8 — Your favorite internet friend
Day 9 — Someone you wish you could meet
Day 10 — Someone you don’t talk to as much as you’d like to
Day 11 — A Deceased person you wish you could talk to
Day 12 — The person you hate most/caused you a lot of pain
Day 13 — Someone you wish could forgive you
Day 14 — Someone you’ve drifted away from
Day 15 — The person you miss the most
Day 16 — Someone that’s not in your state/country
Day 17 — Someone from your childhood
Day 18 — The person that you wish you could be
Day 19 — Someone that pesters your mind—good or bad
Day 20 — The one that broke your heart the hardest
Day 21 — Someone you judged by their first impression
Day 22 — Someone you want to give a second chance to
Day 23 — The last person you kissed
Day 24 — The person that gave you your favorite memory
Day 25 — The person you know that is going through the worst of times
Day 26 — The last person you made a pinky promise to
Day 27 — The friendliest person you knew for only one day
Day 28 — Someone that changed your life
Day 29 — The person that you want to tell everything to, but are too afraid to
Day 30 — Your reflection in the mirror



is there an adult-onset ADHD? i think i have the disorder.

this post is Rx

don’t mind me… i am a leaky, sneezy, wheezy, bloodshot vegetable.

i look like someone’s late-night drinking spree companion. my hair’s greasy and i had been wearing this shirt for two days now. haven’t taken a proper shower. if i were a man, i would be sporting a healthy stubble around my chin, too. i think it’s sexy for a guy to have that. but a five o’clock shadow on me… let’s not dwell on that thought. i don’t wish for you, dear reader, to have nightmares.

i’m busy paying attention to how i am slowly being debilitated. my right nasal passage is stopped up with concrete. the waterworks department may have placed a satellite office right in there as well. there’s an army of miner dwarfs using sledgehammers on my skull, and i think the sandman has taken up residence behind my eyelids. my tongue signals that cardboard tastes like cardboard. that’s fine. but the chicken fillet, the crab and corn soup, the pork tocino, and the dried salted fish also taste like cardboard.

this morning, i woke up the entire neighborhood – tough feat, considering that i now live along a superhighway – with my 300-mph sneezes. i ache all over. my joints are fused to the tendons. my muscles gave up their souls dawn of today, leaving me lying in bed in a vegetative state.

well, gents and ladies, it’s now officially flu season again. and i’ve caught the bug early.

give my love to the healthy folks out there.

a day of missing

Skies the color of iron cast a shadow on the world today. There is a storm, after all. It has already ravaged the northern part of the country, leaving cities and towns in a state of devastation and without power for more than forty-eight hours.

I am in a somewhat more snug and dry location; the typhoon didn’t fully grace the southernmost reaches of this archipelago. Yet that gloom… It makes for a dreary time. I hear the ancient crypts shrieking open. Ghosts – past, present, and future – would have their reunion with the living today.

So it is no wonder that I’ve been missing the company of many people who made my life awesome in one way or another. There’s my first-grade classmate Noah. He is the only the perfect gentleman I know. He braved walking me across an eight-lane highway, lugging my schoolbag along with his own bulging knapsack, so he could see me home safe. Nobody did anything like that for me ever again.

Then there’s Pepper. I miss her tales, her woes, her news, her joys, her views, her photographs. It was odd that early this afternoon she told me through chat that she missed me, too.

There’s my dearly departed pitbull, Shonnen Boop. She was so hungry for people’s attention that she could have been kidnapped (or dognapped, if we are after the most politically correct term) right out of our own yard. She was that friendly to humans. She was Faith’s bed companion when Faith was still a year old.

Then there’s Faith. The little girl turned six last April. I wasn’t there to wish her a happy birthday. She insisted that she will spend next summer here in this new city with me. I miss her so bad that it would be wonderful if wings will sprout from my shoulders and using the momentum from the storm, i will fly my way to my tropical jungle home.

Then there’s Gambit. I miss that Cajun. I miss the smell of new comic books because I miss Gambit. And I miss Peanut, too, because I miss Gambit.

Perhaps this is a day of missing. Ta has been here for over a week now. No downhill biking treks with his friends. He is doing landscape work, and just a few minutes ago, he sat next to me and chuckled. “It’s weird. I miss Scott,” he told me. Scott is one of our friends and his closest downhill buddy.

Definitely a day of missing.

And I’m blaming the weather.