1. Talent shows have less contestants these days. – On a daily basis, there’s always a food photo (scrambled eggs, <beef, chicken, pork, seafood> pasta with hotdogs, and fried rice) where a friend comments something like “you deserve to start a food business” and the owner of the photo discreetly agrees with him. Generally, we only aspire to be any of these three: actors, singers, OFWs. Facebook tells us that if we can follow recipes then we can be successful restauranteurs, too. No audition/placement fee needed.
2. The Philippines is now the most blessed nation. – From chocolates given by superiors to scheduled annual bonuses to cheap airline tickets, there is a drastic increase of blessings in our country. Gifts, salaries, Starbucks planners, and post its are now tagged as graces from Heaven. Following this trend, if we surprisingly voted for the right Barangay Captains (which we’re expected to do anyway), we’ll probably be on our knees singing hymns of praise.
3. There are no prodigal sons and daughters left in the world. – There are no bad offsprings on Facebook. We all live in ideal homes where kids and kids-at-heart (20 and 30 somethings who are still dependent) are their parent’s dreams. Honestly, there’s too much “I miss/love/thank you <insert relative here>” being posted online that I freaking feel bad about trying to be the best son offline.
4. What happened to rice and pancit? – SLRs have replaced rice and pancit as the staple of every Filipino event. From birthdays to weddings to funerals, there’s always a Canon or a Nikon with a battery grip hanging from a guest’s neck. While I’m all for quality images, I do think that it is awkward for a photo of a coffin to have a photographer’s watermark.
Facebook is changing my beloved country. And if it goes on like this, I might lose my sanity.
Cue “The Twilight Zone” opening theme.
The past few hours were surreal. For someone whose phone was stolen, I felt relief. I realized that she had a soft spot for me. I found comfort in knowing that she felt bad I got robbed. The attention she was giving me was driving me crazy.
After the event, I asked her if she could have breakfast with me before going home. She agreed. We had fun. She was very kind to me. Thank you, pre-teen snatcher. Being with her was driving me crazy.
We parted ways. We boarded buses going to opposite directions. I kept seeing her. She was everywhere. She was the bus driver. She was the other passenger. She was the traffic cop. She was driving me crazy.
When I reached home, I waited for her sms. 2 hours passed, there was still no SMS. Did she forget about me? Was that our last date? 3 hours passed. She sent an SMS. She was about to sleep. The uncertainty was driving me crazy.
I didn’t sleep. I was awake for almost 36hrs. I kept thinking about our next date. I was excitingly planning how to enjoy the Incubus concert with her. It was a few weeks away. The anticipation of being with her again was driving me crazy.
I waited for her to wake up before I fell asleep. Love was driving me crazy.