The PHP 129 I spend every month for Spotify is well worth it compared to the subscription I pay for iFlix (the person who used to watch it is gone) and Viu (haven’t had time) since I use Spotify everyday. Every single day.
Especially now.
It gives me the ability to create a playlist instead of burning cd compilations of all the heartbreak songs I can get my hands on. Or mixed tapes, to be really so ’90s about it.
Here’s the playlist I am creating for this extraordinary time. A mix of really old school songs with new ones.
A photo to go with the songs in my Spotify playlist. Eastridge, Binangonan, Rizal. Photo by callmecreation.com
Then a friend sent me this podcast of an advice column published by the The Boston Globe, which I had been listening to the entire night. Really educational and healing as well.
Here’s a show for you… S1E1: Getting Under to Get Over episode of Love Letters https://open.spotify.com/episode/0ho8z2KnlCjS3nbvpcLQIk?si=e2BQyQzFTOKsJnul2eA4lA
People might crucify me if I tell them I prefer Kashmir over Stairway to Heaven. But this live performance of Kashmir is proof that this song is on a different plane. John Bonham is very wicked here.
This next video explains why Bonham is one of the best drummers of all time. Complicated syncopated playing here but gels well with the rest of the band.
Whenever I’m upset, I go to my original music genre. To feel alive.
I struggle to stand up alone against the big wide sky. Among the grasses that are threatening to engulf me. How to go on?
So I lay a dozen roses for the lover that I lost I stand by all my choices even though I paid the cost Oh, all those nights, the lows and highs I share them all with you So I lay a dozen roses, I lay them there I lay them there for you
Maybe in another lifetime, in another parallel universe, we could be…we could be…
I’m waiting there.
In a parallel universe Maybe you’d be my first I could be your only one Oh, this universe is a curse Where’s timing so cruel to us I don’t know how to be alright
Don’t want to live in a world where you are not mine
COVID-19 is really a traitor. It sneaks up on you and steals into the night.
My uncle, my mother’s younger brother and closest sibling, died last Sunday night. He was cremated in 24 hours or at 9 pm last night, as per Department of Health protocol for all suspected coronavirus deaths.
He had on and off fever since Saturday last week and a headache that didn’t go away. They had him undergo rapid antibody test but it turned out negative so this didn’t warrant a hospital stay. But on Sunday after waking up from a nap, he complained again of a debilitating headache. He became delirious and collapsed. He didn’t make it to the hospital.
He wasn’t able to take a swab test. Since he presented some symptoms of coronavirus infection and he was high risk (70 years old), he was treated as a suspect case. His wife and my cousin and those who helped in reviving him at home had to take the swab (RT-PCR) test.
Cause of death in his certificate: community acquired pneumonia.
It was so sudden. He was snatched away like that. I confirmed to my mom on the phone at midnight. She was wailing, more than she did when I told her my father already passed (exactly 15 yrs ago this month). Maybe because she already expected my dad to go anytime soon. Maybe she was shell-shocked.
But in the case of her brother, it was so unexpected that’s why my mom was hysterical.
And just like that, a life was stolen by COVID-19. An unseen menace. It feels like you are risking your life every time you go out of the house. It’s like you are on your own as this government doesn’t care since it’s busy trying to suppress people. It seems like, it’s just a matter of time that you will be the next.
Goodbye, Uncle Benny. You are in a safer place now.
Sunset taken in Angono, Rizal. This photo is owned by callmecreation.com
