I've cut my hair short. That short. After seven long years, my hermit strands are trimmed to make things seem less ...burdensome, maybe. This change, in physical appearance, I guess, matters somehow to those who know me--or at least for those who are familiar with me during those days. (And, somehow, as reactions of people went, I think this change of image meant a lot and seems like a big deal.) I hope those people would still be able to recognize me, because I am, or at least I intend, to visit Maria Makiling's dominion soon. And I thought cutting my hair short would make things better. Nothing changed. I still think the thoughts I think. Or rather, nothing changed for the better. The soulsearch failed. Or I failed. I think I'm worse. You could take the shift from the dark color scheme of my previous blog to this lightness as sarcasm. Everyday, life is being more of an evil motherfvcker. And believe me, that is an understatement.
Though it is more important to mark this day as the first day of commemorating the 40th anniversary of the Diliman Commune (arkibongbayan pictures here.), and besides being the first anniversary of The Butterscotch that somebody gave me during those dreamy good olde times of bliss and illusions, I also want to celebrate this day as the Carcosite day, since this is the first actual post that was not imported from the Micoreigengrau Carcosite. And, being the same day of the Diliman Commune anniv, I... Well, I am expecting my self to rant less about things that does not really matter that much. Just thinking out loud. And hoping. And talking to myself. And showing how I fail to do what I plan. Welcome then to the Carcosite.
New glasses. New hair. New blog. New lenses. Same self. More moderation. I hope.