smoky weekend

It's a Monday. Another Monday in an endless and vicious cycle of weeks and months and years. Hopefully, I'd get to take my money home for last month's worth of work.

Anyhow, there are a few things that are worth writing about today. Well, all of them happened during the weekend. I was lazing around during last Saturday. It was sticky and humid. Another sleepy weekend. I got a call from a friend, he was asking me what I was up to. I sheepishly answered 'Not much. Just trying to get some more sleep." He told me to come over, I did, and so did other friends. We were gathered to hear news. He told me on the phone that he'd rather tell the story personally.

I was first on the scene, he was grilling some homemade burgers. They were delicious. As other friends arrived (most of us came from the same high school but we never really got to hang out in the same group of friends.) He popped the news. He was already a dad. It didn't come out as a surprise to most of us, the surprise was he was a father for almost three months. The kid was beautiful. Congratulatory remarks came after and so did the story behind it. He himself told us that it felt like it came from a comedy script. I'll write more about that later on.

We enjoyed drinks and snacks and helluva lotta laughter. We remembered different tales from the not so distant past. But it felt like it was a decade ago. Come to think of it, we're half past due on those stories. We got acquainted with each other's current dilemmas and idiosyncrasies about being on the post-college phase.

Sharing a paunch with the new dad and son. 
They have identical perfect domes for an old man cut.

Fatherhood has different faces. For my dear friend, and for me, as I put it all up in my idea board of a mind: his story was that of irony and quirkiness. His daddy face is somewhat of a guy reading a magazine or a book or an online article on a hot afternoon. He is a fellow writer, and a god damn good one at that. Straight fucking A of a writer and he's now a dad. His story will be unfolding and it feels script worthy. I know it is. I feel it is. We just have to think of ways to write it.

I don't know how he'll react to this. I know he'll be reading this post and I didn't get the chance to fully congratulate him. Good job. You'll be a great father and friend to your son. He'll grow up to be a weird but brilliant hipster just like his old man and sweet mom.

Another noteworthy thing is a friend having the same feelings about work and making it big and happy in the fucking world. "Tara. Game ako dyan. Tapos magreresign ako, magbibisyo at magsusulat. Maganda pa t-shirt ko" like minded shit from a brilliant mind. I just put my friends in such high regard and they deserve every bit of it.

We kinda hooked it up on making my project work. It'll be more than a collaboration, more of a partnership. With his help, I know we can make something good with our god-given talents and ill skillz. I love that dude, no homo.

Quit our jobs. Do our shit. Write the hell out of every emotion, injustice, unfortunate event and other shit. Do more shit. Feed our vices and do more shit. And as icing to the cake, we get to have cool threads. How fucking good is that? And we'd get tatted up like we own our bodies. Sorry moms.

Head strong, boiiieee.