Like a Fungus
I have never actually started out with any group whatsoever by being in the core. I tend to worm my way in, if I can be arsed to.
Oh, there I go again with the gruff I-cant-be-arsed routine. Can it, alchemical, these people know better by now. Anyway, I only end up worming my way into a group if I want to. If I care to.
The clique I belonged to in High School, an extremely geeky but hip group of computer-hacking trash-talking band members, was rather inanely called ACT, or the Association of Computer Terrorists (a name I cringe at to this very day, even though I didn't name it myself). We had the dubious distinction of having smashed a guitar during a performance in front of a nun, mostly done to distract the audience from realizing that we had no guitar solo. Or distortion on our guitars, for that matter. At any rate, we all had this 'we-too-cool-and-too-smart-for-school' image going, even toward each other, but when things got rough we were all there to slap each others' back and give a gruff "Okay lang yan, tangina mo". You know, stupid generic guy things to say and do when what you mean to say is "We love you man and we'll see you through this".
I have a point, wait for it.
During my birthday party last year, my girlfriend probably unwisely told a whole bunch of you that I am an acquired taste. That I grow on people like a fungus. A fungus. Jeezus. At least I'm not a rash or a tumor.
So yes. I project a 'Keep Away' persona mostly for protection purposes. But little do people know that I am sending out my spores, wondering if they'll flourish and grow in, uh, your crap.
Oh well. Not the prettiest or most fragrant metaphor, but it works.
Oh, there I go again with the gruff I-cant-be-arsed routine. Can it, alchemical, these people know better by now. Anyway, I only end up worming my way into a group if I want to. If I care to.
The clique I belonged to in High School, an extremely geeky but hip group of computer-hacking trash-talking band members, was rather inanely called ACT, or the Association of Computer Terrorists (a name I cringe at to this very day, even though I didn't name it myself). We had the dubious distinction of having smashed a guitar during a performance in front of a nun, mostly done to distract the audience from realizing that we had no guitar solo. Or distortion on our guitars, for that matter. At any rate, we all had this 'we-too-cool-and-too-smart-for-school' image going, even toward each other, but when things got rough we were all there to slap each others' back and give a gruff "Okay lang yan, tangina mo". You know, stupid generic guy things to say and do when what you mean to say is "We love you man and we'll see you through this".
I have a point, wait for it.
During my birthday party last year, my girlfriend probably unwisely told a whole bunch of you that I am an acquired taste. That I grow on people like a fungus. A fungus. Jeezus. At least I'm not a rash or a tumor.
So yes. I project a 'Keep Away' persona mostly for protection purposes. But little do people know that I am sending out my spores, wondering if they'll flourish and grow in, uh, your crap.
Oh well. Not the prettiest or most fragrant metaphor, but it works.
Aww, thanks.
As for your writing, I don't know what you mean, since I think you write well.
Posted by
alchemical |
5:21 PM