Estudyanteng Pinoy Dormitorian

Writing a diary has never been this progressive… and interactive.

I once had a diary for the year 2000. Not sure if the book that I purchased was really a diary because of its odd per hora
text lines. But I was sure I bought an expensive book because each time
I turned the pages, I felt the factory air-conditioning sensation with
some tangy twists of tree blossoms and dried lemon grass leaves. Plus
the gold leaf lining on the page edges.

The diary was hardbound,
with this weird shining, shimmering, splendid ribbon marker that was
slid permanently on the contacts pages, and lots of sections which, at
first, I didn’t understand.

I opted to write short one-liner
summaries per hour, usually done during recess or lunch breaks in
school. Soon, I got tired with the detailing and went on living with
the diary kept inside my cabinet as a luxury.

I
tried listing every single detail that happened in my high school life.
Everything that happened inside our school was noted because almost a
fraction of our teenage lives are spent inside the campus (which I
tried to enjoy). Luckily, no one, not even those who meddled inside my
closet reading it secretly, understood what I was writing on it.

I
once had this enthusiasm to create code alphabets. Codes which are
essentially useless for the development of our society and the
education sector. I just devised special codes to, of course, make
everything in my life as cryptic as possible.

I have created 5
alphabets–the last one (based on Korean and Chinese) happens to be my
personal favorite since it is very pictographic and can be properly
implemented in almost every language in the world. There’s this one
code that I forgot already because of not regularly using it during my
elementary and highschool years. Some of them, mostly my creations when
I was 10 years old, are so complex, I can’t imagine where in the world
I got the nerve to build such codes for the benefit of myself.

Would you believe that this scribble means ‘magic’?
It’s ’salamangka’ in transliteration.

With
rules such as syllabic markings, same-letter policies, noun-verb
varieties of initial letters, right-to-left reading, accentuations…
each alphabet has its own identity, looks, and proper usage.

For
example, my box-type tailed no-space alphabet is only used for events
inside the school. Stresses are marked with slashes and dots, and
initial letters of sentences had varieties. And if I refer to names of
my childhood enemies, letters would be written squiggly and had jagged
flourishes.

Ako - Enemy edition

When
my dad bought us that damned bulky Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary, I
started reading it and became familiar with the foreign alphabet
formations and evolution. It later influenced one of my codes which I
derived from the Cyrillic alphabet of the Russians. I even created a
code based from the Arabic series, but made them very very complicated
to understand. Not even my Science teacher understood my writings in my
notebook when she required us to submit it as final requirement for the
subject.

Neil Brian - in print and cursive forms

My
crave for manufacturing codes probably profused because of my childhood
interest in learning many languages. I have studied so many languages,
I sometimes forgot most of my Tagalog vocabulary and relied on the
lexicon for years. Seeing me making friends with my foreign classmates,
parasitize them, and squeeze their intelligent juices to teach me about
their alphabet and vocabulary could be a routine if I’m your seatmate.
Just kidding. I just ask them a few questions then I do the rest.

My
diary writing just died out. Unlike someone I know who fancied her
journals neatly and hippy, I go with the formal, business-like
editions. Yet for 6 years, I’ve only done 2 diaries and consumed only
20 pages each.

And with the codes I use, I just demonstrate to
people how secretive I am when it comes to personal life. I
occasionally tell stories to my close friends, but my love life? No. No
one knows except my nose.

I am no extroverted guy who simply
discloses lots of details to anybody personally. I’m one odd creature
hard to dig in. So hard to interpret, when everybody in the classroom
shouts truth or consequence, I always run for my life. If caught, I’ll
make sure I cast a show that will convince them to slice my stomach
first before getting my precious golden eggs. Or speak Latin, Mandarin
Chinese, or Canadian French rapidly and wait them nosebleed.

I admit. I am weird sometimes.

And perhaps, you guys are lucky that you can read me because of this blog. And even taunt me. Oh well.

Asne mushti ivi dini luna pashnea.