Sailorknots.

was a complete stranger. He wasn’t even a person that you know by reputation and name - just a complete and utter stranger. When I was having my interview outside by the banister, my manager’s green/mr.sweiven-like eyes caught my attention. The more I answered and looked in his eyes, his eyes seemed to twirl like a wheelbarrow. Horrible description but yes, his mr.sweiven-like eyes were quite..something. Until something else caught my eye. Go figures - It was a guy. Not just any ordinary guy. He was one of those particular presence that seem to cloud the air with something much better than “heavenly.” And the air was pretty damn soaked. He was dressed in a nicely tailored, crisp, pinstripe navy suit, shiny black dress shoes, with a nice head of neatly groomed goodness, and talking to someone over the phone. 

He looked so damn beautiful. So beautiful. Theres not enough words that could justify his manliness and tall erect posture and wonderfulness. I’m getting so worked up because theres no words that can describe him. Wait! Maybe one.

He looked like an angel.

And that was why I stumbled midway in my interview. I completely lost track of what I was trying to say. The otherwise “loud” interview hall was then flooded with complete silence - except for some soft mutterings from Mr. Pinstripe on the phone. He then proceeded to look at me and stopped talking. He stopped walking briskly to the other side of the hall and then lingered around my vicinity. The entire hall seemed to have heated up although it was blasting air conditioning. Nevertheless, that was the longest interview that I have ever endured.

After the interview was done, I went back inside and got my bag back from my manager. I walked outside and he was still outside the store front -Mr. Pinstripe and all his manly goodness. I couldn’t help but smile and walked right past him. Not turning around and having a peek was such a retching ordeal. He read Mr.Big all over him. I think I’m thinking too much but oh what the heck cares! It’s summer and I would love to be his Carrie Bradshaw. 

I so hope he works in the level above mine! 

again in the evening. Writers need inspiration. Where do I find inspiration? Random places? But mostly from self made questions that I ask myself to trick myself in sounding all “smart and philosophically educated.” Hell, Im no Descartes so I’ll start small. Images should be a good start. 

“What is one image in your mind that you can clearly reiterate and why?”

It doesnt sound like a philosophical question but for the sake of brainstorming new topics to doodle about, that will suffice.

The only image that I can actually visualize completely was when I was dozing off in the room and saw you sitting in a chair. Yes, you was sitting in a chair. Just an ordinary chair - your ass on the chair. You cant get any ordinary than that. Nothing really exciting. Its just you sitting on a lonesome chair. You looked really bored and the most beautiful thing that happened later was when you looked up suddenly. You looked up really really really slowly, like really super slow. Your eyelids folded backwards really delicately, or maybe you was really tired. I could see your eyelashes from the other end of the room. You looked tired or maybe its just my perspective. You just opened your eyes and looked upward. Why do I remember this image so clearly? I’m having a writers block on that question. Maybe you was so beautiful - just sitting on that chair and looking up. 

I really don’t know what I’m doing. I try to reason with myself that the things I am occupying myself are actually things that I need to follow up to succeed and “grow up.” Maybe the things that I need to do are things that I am suppose to be doing while I’m growing up. Growing up stuff? Like getting a job and putting one foot forward to unknown territories without any sort of familiarity. It is very scary. 

Being a columnist is going to be crazy. Brainstorming and sketching out articles on random political and creative stories the entire day really got my head woozy. Reading up on different writing techniques kills me. How do I attract the reader? How do I expand my ideas without making it sound generic? I need rest but time, the news, and ideas never stop. They wont wait.

The New York Times won’t be waiting for me. 

I gotta chase!