on notebooks. haha

went to alabang yesterday, supposedly to buy myself a cute notebook. i didn't find any, because still the cutest notebooks can only be found in fullybooked, even the ones in powerbooks look shitty compared to it. ofcourse im a little bias, because jordi labanda notebooks are sold there :))

so anyway, because it's depressing to go home empty handed i bought a small black notebook, that looks a lot like moleskine, except cheaper. yey!

so, another anyway, yesterday i hung out longer at the arts section than in the fictions area. that's both weird and scary. my mom was checking out some of my drawings a couple of days ago, and she said "baka dyan ka sumikat" after she said that, i went straight to my room and started reading. it's scary, me devoting more of my time in my sketching than in writing or reading.

the trip to CSB the other day made me realize i really want to pursue arts. but my first love would always always be writing. it's just new to me, i never wanted anything else but to write before. and now, i want to draw too..

doodles over writing

i can stand the heat, it's the humidity that's killing me. when i was in canada, it also got pretty hot but you don't walk around feeling sticky like you just took a lotion bath. i don't know if it's why i can't do anything this summer. maybe it's just an excuse, the weather is the same for the past 17 summers of my life. i'm just too darn lazy to do anything productive. i hate it.

i have been picking up one from my supposedly 'summer books', and i also have been able to read half of it, or 1/4, i don't know. it's just, after that, i put it down. PUT IT DOWN!! what's that? i've never done that, i'm the type who can't, and won't put down a book once i've started reading it. papa said i must be reading dull books, i don't think so, something's wrong with me, that's what i think. i may be suffering from a sudden, dire need for illiteracy! ain't that quite scary? anyway, papa said i was not entirely unproductive, after all, i've spent half my days sleeping, and the other half googling sketches and trying to learn from them. i have improved much he said.

it's scary, i kinda like drawing more than writing now. again, WHAT IS THAT? i'm the girl who's got it all figured out. well, not really, but when i was young and all the girls my age wanted to be a teacher or a doctor, i wanted to be a writer. ofcourse, i did wish i could carry a tune and awe the audience in a good way at the same time, or dance like teacher chippy from satin slippers. but for as long as i could remember i never wanted to do anything else, but to write. when i was mature enough to realize that kids my age can write better than me, i still continued writing. by the time i failed enough to realize that i can't even write better than half my class who doesn't even know nick joaquin, i still continued writing. because i love it. but now i haven't written a single thing. and i am supposed to be, atleast starting a short story for my thesis. i have been doodling my days away, and the product are not exactly exhibit-worthy. i have been filling my jordi labanda notebook with silly sketches. and my dad fueled the fire by giving me all his art materials, which are, by the way, a lot. he even gave me the coolest professional-looking sketchpad-how can i say no to that??

i am, ugh, f-o-r-c-i-n-g myself to read. i am currently in page27 of Bridget Jones the edge of reason. in beautiful, beautiful hardbound. how can i not love it? why would i rather doodle? that is the question.

well, this is long. could this count as writing?