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This is the blog of Ian Rosales Casocot. Filipino writer. Sometime academic. Former backpacker. Twink bait. Hamster lover.
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Bibliography
The Great Little Hunter
Pinspired Philippines, 2022
The Boy The Girl
The Rat The Rabbit
and the Last Magic Days
Chapbook, 2018
Republic of Carnage:
Three Horror Stories
For the Way We Live Now
Chapbook, 2018
Bamboo Girls:
Stories and Poems
From a Forgotten Life
Ateneo de Naga University Press, 2018
Don't Tell Anyone:
Literary Smut
With Shakira Andrea Sison
Pride Press / Anvil Publishing, 2017
Cupful of Anger,
Bottle Full of Smoke:
The Stories of
Jose V. Montebon Jr.
Silliman Writers Series, 2017
First Sight of Snow
and Other Stories
Encounters Chapbook Series
Et Al Books, 2014
Celebration: An Anthology to Commemorate the 50th Anniversary of the Silliman University National Writers Workshop
Sands and Coral, 2011-2013
Silliman University, 2013
Handulantaw: Celebrating 50 Years of Culture and the Arts in Silliman
Tao Foundation and Silliman University Cultural Affairs Committee, 2013
Inday Goes About Her Day
Locsin Books, 2012
Beautiful Accidents: Stories
University of the Philippines Press, 2011
Heartbreak & Magic: Stories of Fantasy and Horror
Anvil, 2011
Old Movies and Other Stories
National Commission for Culture
and the Arts, 2006
FutureShock Prose: An Anthology of Young Writers and New Literatures
Sands and Coral, 2003
Nominated for Best Anthology
2004 National Book Awards
Follow the Spy
Recent Crumbs
Blogs I Read
© 2002-2021
IAN ROSALES CASOCOT
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
6:52 PM |
Shut Up and Start Living
[... random thoughts after gym and dancing ...]
People have been asking me lately why is it that I look like I'm walking on air ("there's a load off your shoulder," they all say), but still I go about with this bright glimmer of determination in my eyes. Like there's something brewing in my head, and I can't wait to pounce on it. When I think about what possible answer to give, I can't help but feel for real that steely determination. Sometimes it even takes the form of me becoming too hard on myself. I push myself now like I've never pushed myself -- there's a righteous anger to the things I do these days, and while I have made myself so open to all the pleasures of life these days, I still go home each night knowing what I have done for the day is not enough. I keep telling myself, with a hard edge to my thoughts:
Do this now, do this now, do this now... It is exhilarating, the way fresh air must be to a long-time captive of a dank prison. Once, last week, I looked up from writing my column for
Visayan Daily Star in the comfortable hub of Cafe Noriter, and I saw this quote -- taken from the movie
The Last I Saw Paris -- emblazoned on one wall of the cafe: "I want to enjoy things, have fun, live every day like it's the last day. Wouldn't that be nice, a lifetime full of last days?" And I feel that now, much more so when I was lost. I know I can't waste any more time: I've already given up the prime of my life for somebody not worth an iota of every sacrifice I've made.
Sometimes I become angry when I think about what I had done to myself, in the name of waste.
What the fuck was I thinking? So, yes: there is steely determination. Because once you've understood that life can easily be confined to a box, you really cannot wait to start living again.
[Edited Feb. 8, 2009: Oh shut up, Ian. You know you're lying. He was worth it. - Ian][thanks to ... for the photo]
Labels: life
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