Rekindle the Passion
It's renewing bonds with old friends.
When I was a kid, I was a loner and was poor in making friends simply because I can't, being the nerd I was before. So to save myself from solitude, I resorted to a good company of books. And they have not failed me since.
After that book hoarding I did a few weeks ago, I haven't stopped reading, which is good because lately I've been reading less. Reading literature has become a thing I'd just squeeze in my messed up schedule and not something I'd allot a fair share of my time anymore. And when I do, I don't find myself getting engrossed with it. Maybe because I've been reading too serious materials like Neil Armstrong's 500-page biography, a coffee table book on astronomy, or even grammar books. Reading them is fun but not enough to keep my interest. (Yes, I love astronomy and science. But tell me, who would be caught dead reading a dictionary?).
So imagine the thrill to have been "connected" with some people made up by other people. I've finished reading Paulo Coelho's By The River Piedra I Sat Down And Wept and I just can't put into words how exhilarating it was to have found an ally in Pilar. I saw myself in this particular character of Coelho-her independence, her beliefs, and how she looks at things. It's as if I was literally reading my mind, reading the story of my life. And ironically, there's that feeling of ineffable joy, too, from experiencing an emotional trauma in John Green's The Fault in Our Stars, or seeing the old self in Candace Bushnell's Carrie Bradshaw of The Carrie Diaries.
Some people may find it weird to become the person you've once been again, but in my case, it's not. It's a wonderful come-back, actually. And I craved for more.
Exactly how I felt after reading John Green's The Fault in Our Stars.
People, please understand. It's not easy to move on.
With college friends Jec and Daphne, I braved the heavy rains last Sunday to experience the annual Manila International Book Fair (MIBF). It was my first time there, and the scent-and the sight-of the numerous stacks of books were irresistible. It was home. With a budget of a thousand pesos, I managed to get myself copies of Malcolm Gladwell's The Tipping Point, Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project, another John Green (Looking For Alaska), and Emily Griffin's Love the One You're With.
Now, I just can't put a copy down. I read during my trips to work and back home. I wake up early on the weekends just to read. And I read before I go to sleep. It's a good distraction from the social media, which I admit has eaten up a lot of my time. And a good practice, too, for someone who's trying to learn a different writing style.
I've finally rekindled that old passion for reading. But I'm not sure when (and if) I could do the same for dancing.
I've spent a handful of high school and college years dancing, so ditching the UAAP Cheerdance Competition (CDC), which coincided with my scheduled trip to MIBF, was a tough decision.
It's cliche to say that dancing has become a form of expressing oneself alright, but it's true. I found solace in the brisk movements of the arms and legs, the intense sweating, the rhythm and the beat. And it's because of this that I've come to love dancing. But recently-and again-with so many things to do, I have to set aside some things that I once enjoyed doing for practical and economical reasons.
I've never been able to watch the UAAP CDC live and I was really looking forward to see UST Salinggawi Dance Troupe bring back the glory days (insert the hyped up #BawiSaling9awi hashtag on Twitter here) but I just cannot not attend the MIBF. By chance, though, (I couldn't say fortunately because it wasn't really) the UST Salinggawi Dance Troupe landed on 7th place, their worst finish in 19 years.
Whatever happened to the once revered dance company in the annual cheerdance competition, I'm not sure of. In spite of this, I'm sure they can snatch back that title and redeem themselves. As long as they have that heart for dancing, they'd succeed.
And, yep, it would probably be a lifetime regret that I wasn't able to at least try joining them during my college years.