my day

Do you remember when we used to write down every single detail of our day, not caring who would read our words? Just typing, typing, typing. When blogging meant an online diary of sorts, chronicling crush sightings, everything you ate, and what songs you’ve obsessively been playing over and over.

These days, there are more photos than words, more hashtags than friends, more #content than context.

Just because I’ve been trying to get myself to write—not for work or anything—let me tell you about one of my days.

I took a bus from Katipunan to Makati to meet with friends on a Saturday morning. Dropped off a Kahlua cupcake in a cardboard pink oven at my friend’s store before paying for my one-way ticket. I settled into a seat across the door and placed a paper bag filled with 3 more boxes with cupcakes inside beside me. Forty-five minutes later, I was in Makati making my way from Glorietta 3 to Greenbelt 5.

I slid into the couch at a table by the corner of the restaurant where we agreed to meet; we only decided where to eat that morning. J was running late but P and I ordered truffle fries ahead. When M joined us, we got pizza and sushi and pasta. In between bites, we talked and talked and laughed and got mad (but only for a moment) and laughed some more.

Three cups of coffee and 2 slices of cake later, we decided to catch a screening of Smaller and Smaller Circles but not before slipping into a stationery store to get a notebook personalized and do a bit of window shopping while walking to the cinema. We sat in the dark for two hours—a quarter of which was spent with eyes half-open and hoping the images flashed on the big screen would not haunt us in our sleep.

We head down straight to the food court and figure we could have dinner before calling it a night. But of course, after dinner, we walk over to find dessert and we spend a little more time together. We say goodbye and promise more stories for next time because sharing stuff in person is always much better than through a screen.

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