Another Time I Got High -- Cantabaco, Toledo

I feel the need to come up with a prologue so you don’t expect the wrong things. I am not going to write about rock climbing. I posted the photo of this kid because I am so impressed by him: he climbed a 5.11 route on barefoot. In a rock climber’s vocab, that is an advanced grade.

 I am even more impressed by the guy who belayed him. I cannot remember his name but he is one of Cebu’s elite climbers. Anyway, he was just chilling there watching his friends climb when he saw these two kids in ragged, oversized shirts. They were wearing slippers that are way past retirement stage. They were trying to mix it up with us.

But instead of telling them to go away, he got a harness that would fit them and taught them the basics. After the short lecture this kid made his way up. His friend did not make it all the way up but he did.

For him to be able to see that kid’s potential despite his ragged clothes…that makes me wanna close my eyes and feel good about them and bad about myself. I never bothered about those kids before. I feel so terrible.

To be honest, I did not see the whole thing because I was busy up another route, struggling to find holds while getting stung by some tiny wasp-looking insects.

Flor took these two photos, kudos to her. This is the end of any rock climbing story you are looking for. Next paragraphs are completely irrelevant to anything.

* * *

 I hate procrastinating (and I would not recommend it to others) but it has always worked best for me. Nothing motivates me to do something than to not have the time to do it. I am pretty sure college students doing term papers can relate to this. Today I found out why Italians have godfathers: because this world is so tough a man needs to have two fathers to get through it.

So if you are wondering how this relates to this first paragraph, don’t. They have nothing to do with each other. I am simply practicing my typing skills. I am currently pressed by two deadlines: the need to write something up for my next entry at Runroo.com and the need to have a career. I love writing for Runroo because they let me go shirtless even if that may cause a decrease in their readership. I love how they advocate freedom of speech and freedom of fashion.

I am all but skin and bones but I believe that the best time to show off is when you got nothing to show off. I am pretty sure I can come up with something good. What I really need to focus on is my career. I lost track of how many times I have written this: I am jobless again. I can fill out an entire chalkboard with this phrase, like a student being punished for misbehavior.

At age 24, I feel that I am deep into the adult age and I should start acting like one. And a career is essential. I hope I had a choice. Like what Allen Ginsberg said, if only I could buy things with my good looks. Something like that, anyway just read his poem America. The worst part about my not having a career? I am no worried. I really should be. Someone should motivate me to worry. Or get me into a direction where I can accomplish things that will have positive lifelong consequences (this sentence makes me sound so smart I need to end this entry abruptly).