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the only useful thing i did during the long vacation was to finish reading a downloaded copy of Free Culture, which i highly recommend. All the wonderful arguments against corporate greed's control of digital creativity / file sharing are in there.

Stupid Rant follows. Please pardon my whining. I just need to vent.

i spent most of my holy week cooped at the balikbayan bodega a.k.a the otherwise empty unit (my temp home in a townhouse compound that stands on a street notorious for its armed robberies) where the price i pay for being rent-free is to subject myself to house rules meant for stupid kids in the fifties, not for someone in denial of entering her thirties. most of the time i am alone (except when some relatives next door and their househelp barge in without knocking). also, the moment i step out, i get a paranoid feeling that the blood-relation next door (who runs the compound and keeps all the keys) is combing through my stuff, making sure i am not entitled to any form of privacy. the thought of buying an inflatable doll and scattering all sorts of kinky stuff on the floor has crossed my mind. but i haven't found an alternate flat yet.

among many bones to pick, i have issues on how they value the security of their shiny cars more than my own. but alas, i have alienated myself further from extended family that i am no longer in any position to complain to them.

outside their tall fences rimmed with broken glass, downtown decay is on turbo mode. (more of the same, more of the same. only worse)

cynical, numb, with a heart of stone, i find myself unable to write.

sooner than later, am gonna snap again.

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Best described as a Murakami detox support group, we're all fans of the quirkily brilliant Japanese author, Haruki Murakami, and writing about such things as films we've seen recently and books we're reading (not to mention meandering musings on the man's work, of course) helps us to pass time while waiting for the next book from Haruki-baby.

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