I found this wheat pancake thing at the back of my pantry. I thought I’d give it a try.
They tasted exactly like wheat muffins <3
I had a dream this morning. This dream was very short and very sweet. Although, maybe the reason why it was so short was because I may have forgotten most of it. But whatever. So the dream starts with me shopping in a grocery store.
I was looking about the bread and cereal aisle, trying to decide which one would be much more nutritious and delicious. I stood there wearing pants and a long sleeve polo shirt, two things I would never wear hahaha! I finally pick the cereal box which says Cinnamon Toast. I walk back to my shopping cart and find a young boy jumping up and down inside the cart.
This boy looked very much like the one in the picture above, but much younger. I would say that he was around 3-years-old in my dream. So this bouncing bubbling baby boy starts shouting “Milch! Ich will Milch!” Which roughly translates from German to “Milk! I want milk!” Then he begins to blab incomprehensibly, which is cute.
Then I say, “Hey. Keep your voice down.” He ignores me. “SIT,” I made it a point that I sounded stern and not frightening. He stops, then climbs to the seat of the cart, sits down and stares at me. I, in turn, blow my bangs to relieve some of my stress (like how Go Eun Chan does in Coffee Prince), and he tries to copy me. I say try because all he ends up doing is splattering saliva on my shirt.
I wake up from the dream to realise that I adopted a kid.
The following is a journal entry for poetry class. We were tasked to write something about our favourite sounds. Hence, the title of the post The Sound: Coffee at 3 o’clock in the Morning. I’m taking up German, so please correct me if I’m wrong :D
There’s something about doing things extremely early in the morning; I don’t usually do things this early. Sleep is an essential part of me. I’m up at this hour because I needed to get things done, but my eyes are falling in on themselves. So, my best bet is to wake myself up with some cups of coffee. That right, cups of coffee, not a cup of coffee. Since 3AM is still pretty quite, what I hear is clear as crystal.
I pick up my step-ladder, trying my best not to make too much noise, but the metal legs still lightly scrape the marble tile floor, like a family of squirrels arguing which nut should go where. I climb up three steps and reach for the cupboard. I open it, and the wood and hinges disagree with each other. Any louder, then they would match my creaky wooden floor in my bedroom. I grab my French press and draw it toward me, I hit some of the china ware, but just slightly, and small muted bells ring in the air. Continue reading “Der Klang: Kaffee bei Drei Uhr in der Morgen”
So a week ago, I got a class at DLSU, which I thought was creative writing for fiction or non-fiction. It was–much to my surprise–creative writing for poetry. Poetry class was not something I was hoping for, since I did want to learn how to write literature. I’ve been planning to write a book ever since I got into my university. I just don’t have the knowledge and experience to write it. (Experience=life experience. Not as a writer, but as a person).
Our professor told us to get a brand new notebook for journal entries. He wants us to see how we think and how we give our opinions on something–which I believe I am excellent in doing aka blogging. Basically, he wants to know that we are alive, and I do mean that in the most literal of sense hahahaha! Our first entry: anything you want to talk about. So here’s what I said. (The following has been greatly edited and improved.) Continue reading “The Breakaway”
There’s this Japanese resto at Eastwood Mall Libis that I really, really, really love. So far I’ve only eaten there thrice, but after the third time, I decided not to go there anymore. So here’s a letter to my former fav Jap resto:
Dear Ramen Bar,
I fell in love with your ramen on the very first day you opened. Your “RBS #1” ramen really was the #1 ramen. Its soup was nice and thick and rich in taste. The meats were numerous and mouth-watering. The noodles were cooked to perfection. It was, for me the best ramen I ever had.
But, after a few months away from you, I decided to visit you on my 20th birthday. O’ how much you’ve changed. The soup was very transparent, they taste disappeared. It almost tasted like ‘instant soup‘. The meat number was cut in half, that was very disappointing. And the noodles were not as plenty as before.
Previously, I would be so full and satisfied with your food. Now, I find it dissatisfying and disgusting. It was water that had a taste of ramen soup in it.
Please, get back on track. Think about good food, not the money.
I hope you read this Ramen Bar; I really want you to win me back. But for now, ciao.
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