So some of you will know that I am writing a book. A book about myself.
I took myself as a subject, because I know myself best and therefore know what to write. It’s non-fiction, so all I had to do was write down memories and feelings about those memories.
I thought this would be a walk in the park. Easy steezy. A cakewalk. Peanuts.
At least, so I thought.
Writing consistently enough is not the problem. I write often enough. In the morning, when I’m sitting in a coffee joint. In the evening, when I’m sitting at my desk or lying in bed.
The problem is I am discovering memories that I thought I didn’t have anymore, discovering new viewpoints about the people around me, and discovering new goals and regrets that were stored deeply away.
I am getting to know myself better, just by writing down memories and thinking about myself.
That’s why I am pondering over whether to release the book when it’s done, because it’s so immensely personal.
I probably will when the timing’s right. There are a few things I have to achieve before I can release the book.
It’s become more than a set of memoirs: an excercise in reflection and goal-setting.
I had a conversation this weekend with a friend who said that if I wanted to get the things that I want in my life, I have to start planning.
But I’ve been doing that on the downlow already. It’s not so much about the planning, it’s the fact that my plans depend on other people’s feelings and whether I take action.
Because if action was all it took to get where I want to be, I’d be golden. It’s the other people’s reaction that holds me back. However, it seems to go alright up until now so might as well keep on taking things slow and get in that positive snowball.
But I can always develop my plans further. Don’t worry, I’m writing about that too.
Professionally, I’ve got a plan for life. I am already doing the things that I want and I am keeping on track. Studying, making art and writing.
Personally, there are still some developments to be made.
Keep on keeping on.
Until next time.
Your man,
Mark Dumanon
One interesting anecdote when you were past one year old. You went to visit Lolo Momon n Lola Nene in a far away village called Barangay New Maug, Prosperidad, Agusan Del Sur in the southern island of Mindanao. Seemingly you make the whole village happy including d spirits of your ancestors. That you wake them up and the spirits played and cared for you? It made you sick- diarrhoea and vomiting non stop. Imagine the panicking of your mum? How did you survived? I will tell you when you visit us in Ashford soon….
PS: Decades ago, the flight from Amsterdam to Manila was 18 long hours under KLM stewardship. Can you still remember the noise, the air pressure in d never ending commotion inside d cabin? And how does a one year old baby react to this strange and pressurized environment. Can u imagine all d excitement and the concerns during the long flight to Manila. To make d story short from Manila we fly another 1 hour and 30 minutes to Davao Airport.
Then from Davao Ecoland Bus Terminal we took a bus heading to Butuan City. Travel time was 6 hours through the long, winding n bumpy road to d jungle. How did a one year old dutch baby survived the dusty road to Brgy New Maug? Only the strong will survive….