the post-May-the-Fourth post

Lucky for me I have some very little experience in dressing up in unusual costumes. But this is a thing I never had the pleasure of doing, before last night.

Ready?

Okay. This was what I did at the office for Star Wars theme night. :)

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Perhaps there should have been some glitter, but the costume was not mine, so I didn’t want to make life difficult for the owner when it comes to upkeep / maintenance of the items.

So I am seriously seriously considering shelling out for my very own set of Jedi robes, in my own measurements, and possibly in my own colors — I would have probably gone with gray accents. And maybe I can get that done in time for December? Hmmm. This needs a little consideration. :)

something I had made, because I thought it would be a good idea

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(In image: single dog tag with embossed information, on a ball-link chain that also includes a military-style mini can opener. The dog tag contains the following information: a last name, a first name plus initials, blood type, date of birth, and nature of chronic illness.)

I don’t need or want to tempt fate. But I had this made in case of emergency, and as an additional means of identification, should it ever be needed. *knocks on wood* Maybe it might give others an idea, too, I don’t know — but if it should be useful, I offer it up here as an example.

If the pen were truly mightier than the sword….

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…do I have an arsenal or just a piddling handful of rusty weapons?

When I was in high school, my dad enlisted me to help a Korean maker of pen and paper products break into the local market. I attended a focus group discussion with a few other young people, and we talked about using gel pens, which were still somewhat new in terms of pen technology at the time.

Maybe that’s where my attitude towards pens with excessively fine points / nibs comes from, because, yeah, tiny handwriting looks pretty great with fine points, but I have never mastered that skill. So I’m not a big fan. I like my ball-point pens to lay down thick lines, thanks.

After they were successfully introduced into the Philippine market, colorful gel-ink pens became very popular at schools, for art projects, and even in offices where they could be used to organize notes and lists and similar things.

(Not even my mom is immune to the lure of colorful gel pens.)

As for the fountain pen thing…I guess I’ll just wind up blaming a combination of Wikipedia and my friends? All I know is, I wound up asking for a calligraphy pen for Christmas one year, and then after that, I felt like I’d started falling down that endless rabbit hole.

You can see my pens in the photo above. When I noticed that I had two or three fountain pens to carry around I decided to buy something more proper to place them in. The flat case I have is for paintbrushes and art supplies, but — hey, my pens fit in the slots, and it didn’t cost much, so win-win.

I favor medium to broad nibs in my fountain pens, which are on the left side in the photo. Like I said, I like pens that lay thicker lines. Even the gel pens on the right side in the photo have fairly thick points. I like their sparkly inks.

The leftmost pen in the photo is a Japanese fountain pen. Apparently people in Japan favor pens with very fine points or nibs, and that’s partly because of the paper that they write on, but primarily because of their various alphabets. I bought that one on a lark, and actually like the color of the ink. I might convert it into an eyedropper pen in the future.

One thing I’ve noticed is that I probably have very weird penmanship. I’m left-handed, but I have never used fountain pen nibs that are specially made for left-handers. But my pens write well in my hands, except for the occasional skip and scratch. I do have to deal with the traditional ink-stains on the side of my hand, though.

(Maybe I should try to write something down, and then take a picture of it and post it here, and then you’ll see what my handwriting looks like. That’s an idea for the future. I’ll put a pin in it.)

Yes, I’m planning to buy a fountain pen when I go to Singapore. I can’t pass up on the chance.

Why are fountain pens sorta pricey in my part of the world, I gotta ask….

About me

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Out of darkness, yet shall I follow a path of greater darkness. From the mountain crest, far-off moon, give me light.

(和泉式部
izumi shikibu, 978?-)

My name is PJ. I’m in my mid-thirties and I’m from the Philippines. I was previously a PR agency writer and an English teacher. Now I spend my time doing what freelancing work comes my way.

I have a mental illness. I was diagnosed with clinical depression in the first quarter of 2015. I went to therapy. I was put on a course of medications. (I can still tell you what the generic names of those meds are.) At present, I’m off the meds, and I’m not seeing my therapist.

I was, or I guess I should say I still am, married. I loved my husband for the 13 years before we got married, and I loved my husband for the better part of about four more years after we got married, and then, well, there was a sudden breakup.

Or maybe it wasn’t that sudden. Maybe things had been heading towards the precipice, and over it, for a long time. He loved other women, and never stopped looking for other women to love, and for a while I let myself become a willing accomplice and enabler for his needs. For a while I gave up all of my own wants and needs for the sake of staying together with him.

All of this is in the past tense now, except for the fact that I am technically still married.

I saw my husband today. I had braced myself to feel like a wreck after seeing him. I had been getting ready to console myself. I had expected to have to stop and take a moment so that I could focus on the rest of the day.

Today, I looked briefly into his face, into his eyes, and realized that there was nothing left of “us”.

I’m a little surprised that all the feelings that I used to have are gone, and it’s only been six months since we broke up.

I’m surprised and relieved.

Which doesn’t mean that I’ve stopped feeling lonely and sorry for myself. But those things are not exclusive to a breakup. Those things are part of my depression, and always have been. They have been my constant companions through the years, so — well, literally speaking, what else is new?

I’m not new to the blogging thing. And I’m not new to the journaling thing either.

Here I’ll write about myself, and my mental illness, and the things that affect me and make me think. Maybe I’m doing this in the faint hope that someone out there might find some kind of help in what I have to say. Maybe I’m doing this to remind myself of what I need to do and what I have already been through.

(Which means I’m really going to need to put some kind of organization on this blog. Tags or something. But even when I’m writing for myself I only ever pay lip service to the idea of outlines and organizations and things like that….)

(Can I possibly trick myself into thinking that organizing my thoughts here might also help me to organize the rest of my life?)

If you read this and got all the way to the end, thank you. If you read this and decide to follow me and my blog, thank you. If you read this and decide I’m a little bit full of it, well, thanks for reading anyway.

Here I am. And here is my road to that elusive place called Recovery — which is just another step to the promised land called Happiness.