Going Minimalist

I read this article about going minimalist that made a lot of sense, I think. Eventually I’d have to find the time to put the link in here but I think I do have it among the host of 500+ articles I’ve hoarded in Pocket over time, most of the half-read. Yes,  I come from a a family of hoarders, but to detail that would be for another post.
The gist is, you would want to keep only stuff that adds value to your life. And then slowly get rid of those things that don’t, at least one item per day. It might sound easy at first, but the more I’ve given it some thought, the harder it becomes. I feel that somewhere down the road I would only end up reorganizing most of my stuff instead of having to get rid of them.
I’m thinking of doing a different approach. I’ll start by taking stock of everything I have. Everything. I’d make out a long list if the stuff I have and then try to justify how each would “add value” to my life, and then slowly start getting rid of each of them one by one.
This as it stands would be a big project. I am not sure how I am going to pull this off but I am genuinely excited about the outcome. Let’s do this.

Happy New Year!

So, NaBloWriMo was a bust. I was only able to do it for a couple of days. And this is just a blog. Considering that this is just a blog. Yes. I could have done better, a lot better and I know that. Better start the new year right.
New Year was quite a ho-hum affair, not to mention the lack of booze, lack of family,  and lack of friends. But I was thankful that at least I was not spending the holidays homeless or jobless. We got the usual fare, and although my risoni pasta salad left a lot to be desired (fresh vegetables instead of frozen) it was still a great success since we almost had all of it gone near the close of New Year’s day.
Normally people would write about New Year’s resolutions or shit like that but I am way too tired to be normal.


Name twenty seven people you met in your life that would want to see/talk to again. I was thinking of writing about this for tonight but the again, I might not make the full twenty-seven so I decided to skip that.
In a few days, I’d be singing in our office choir. I got invited by a former office mate now current officemate to join. Come to think of it, that was the first time in a very long time that I had to audition for anything, that is if you don’t count job interviews. And the last time that I sang in a choir as again with another office, about close to seven years ago. And we did not actually compete then, unlike now.
The point is, I don’t remember the last time my folks had ever seen me perform in front of an audience as an adult. I say adult but I mean me as an older person. They never really heard me sing either.
I don’t know if I should or could invite them to watch us sing at the finals by the end of the month, that is if we even get to the finals or if I don’t get kicked out of the group before that. Maybe I should. I don’t know.


Valentines Day. If you were born in the month of November, most probably you were conceived around the time of Valentines Day. That would be kinda weird and sweet, depending on how you look at it. But then again, you could still be born in the month of November if you lacked a few months of gestation inside your mother’s womb. Most Scorpios are born in November. I think that is why they’re pretty much associated with having great libido and loving sex. Loving sex or making love, whatever you’d want to call that. It’s just fun really.
Some trivia off the internet: since the month of February only has 28 days, it is the only single month that can pass without a full moon. I don’t remember the last time actually focused and looked into a full moon. Not that that makes any sense or point at all. But I’m just saying.
In movies you might have seen people make love underneath the full moon. That sounds kinda weird and hot and nice all at varying degrees at the same time. I guess depends if you’re watching the full moon while you’re doing it or if you’re being watched by someone else. I guess that had always been one of my odd fantasies: be watched fucking or watch someone get fucked. I might actually try that. Eventually.


I don’t know who it was who asked me last year what it felt like turning 29. Neither do I remember what I said back then but I guess I would have said the same thing: it feels the same.
Only a bit different.
When I was younger I never really had dreams of what I would become when I turned 29, unlike some people I knew. It was like they were dead set on becoming this or having that by a certain age. I didn’t have any of those dreams. All I knew then was that I would be someone different from who I was then. Maybe a leader or a manager. A family man. Dead. But everything was not set on some kind of timeline. Everything would have happened eventually, I think I thought then and when you’re young, eventually couldn’t be anytime soon.
And then I actually got old.
Sometime in the future your body and time would conspire to limit that long list of wannabes into a more discernible, more specific and slightly more realistic list, given ones age and generally capability to learn more and do more as you grow old. You find out that there are some things that would be very hard to do now than when you were younger, and a longer list yet of things that you might not even get to do anymore because you neither have the same amount of strength; nor opportunities, nor time to do them.
I read somewhere that time does seem to go faster when you get older. When you actually compare the time you would have spent on something when you were younger against your total time in your life thus far, activities and periods in your life seemed longer then when compared to the same time you would spend on something today. Think about sleeping for four hours when you were just a day old. Or when you were in preschool for a yea or two when you were just four years.old. Those would experiences would have been half of your life already then but now you would just pass that off as a very small segment of your whole life.
Life as you get older becomes more of a challenge not just in surviving but more on filling the gaps of your days on earth. So you get a job, probably do something day in and day out for the next 10 or 20 years if your lucky and then that’s the only time you could say that you have done something for a greater part of your life, well not counting those little moments in between.
I don’t know where this leads but there. I keep asking myself, 30 years down the line, what in hell’s name did I spend half of my doing? I don’t know the answer to that yet, but I am intrigued to find out.
Day two, done and done.