Sitting on the terrace over-looking the empty street beyond our Imus house, I can’t help but wonder in slight boredom why I’m here and not doing what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m supposed to be here drawing, or at least make some sketches but no! I’m sitting here by the terrace resting my heavily-pulsating eyes from playing too much computer games.



Suddenly, I was stung by the splendor of a sudden thought. I realized for the first since I came here that I was alone. I wouldn’t notice it anyway since I’ve just spent most hours of the day wasting electricity. It was for the first time too that I noticed that the bare, boring, unpainted walls of our tiny and musky upper room needs an artist’s touch. What an eye-sore, so I just comforted myself to sit by the small terrace hoping to catch some fresh, late-afternoon breeze. I saw people walk by occasionally, glancing up at me occasionally. Soon, the changing hues of the still-dying day caught my attention; Incandescent-yellow to crimson-red, crimson-red to bloody-magenta, bloody-magenta to deep turquoise, deep turquoise to lilac veil. Then night came, I decided not to turn the lights on so that I can have my shadow as companion, my only visitor for the day.



I discussed with him my intentions to start drafting my manga but the conversation quickly slackened because as he said, I needed to find inspiration first. Isn’t that why I’m supposed to be here? My visitor weren’t much of a help there. Well, others wouldn’t expect much either especially if they’re soliciting answers from their own shadows. My visitor thinks so too. I asked him, out of boredom, if he needed to get inspired too before he do his thing. He didn’t answer but just gave that old, quizzical look. What a wierdo, I thought.