The Terrible Writings of Quentin Montejo
Serial experiments on a fallen archangel who only wanted to regain just one wing back
Free of the World. Rain worshipper. Hermit. Tormented mind. Caged spirit. Defiant and eternal enemy of Destiny and Fate. Poet. Scientist. Artist. Daydreamer. He who laughs. Slacker. Sleeper. Romancer of wings and clouds. Fiercely independent. He who is ponderous. Games and anime junkie. Four eyes. Caveman. Nature-lover. He who doesn't think that hard. Non-smoker. Music-junkie. Counter of blessings. Guitar-hugger. He who simply wants what everybody else would like to be in this world and the next -- to be happy.
Friday, October 20, 2006
This Blog is Two Years Old !!
I've only realized that while I was looking at the pattern made by the archive links on the left. Decided to look at a past entry and one of them has taken my attention.
Two years ago, I was working with a client and assigned onsite to offer my services as a developer. I think we were cramming for a deadline and I'm left in my rich field of thoughts ... (don't mind my usual grammatical confusion with past and present tenses)
dated October, 2004
Guess times like these deserve a blog entry. You see, not sleeping for a whole day induces a natural high. But whatever sort of high that is, I cannot tell.
All I can say is, I'm sleepy. Makes me wonder. How will I die?
In my sleep? Gunshot? Disease? A vicious car accident? Will it be hours/days/months/years of agonizing pain? Or a swift sweep like samurai sword almost like I didn't feel it?
Will I have loved ones beside me when I die? Or will I be cold and alone on top of rainy hill at night?
Last Friday when an earthquake of intensity 4 or 5 rocked the building where I'm working in, I had pondered -- life is such an easy thing to take.
Nine months of growing in the womb, ten years to learn basic stuff, ten or so more years to figure out what life is about, another ten to decide where to go, etc. Life can be ended in any stage and in any way possible. If you look at it, life seems only a cruel joke and the end of it is the part where jack comes out of his box -- a real eye opener (well if you have your eyes openable that is).
So what's all in this for me? I've taken up the mentality of carpe diem in my own way. Just like Percy and Pooch in sinfest.net. Pooch was playing with a new ball to replace the old one he lost. Percy, like the conniving kitty that he is, was like saying that it will only be lost anyway, so why bother playing with it. Pooch, on the other hand, simply decided to play it with a lot before it goes away.
Pooch is a puppy. Even puppies can teach lessons.
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