unsubcultured talks about the future (not in nostradamic terms)...

As usual, my friends and I went to La Union over the Kung Hei Fat Choi weekend. So expect the usual food, alchol and inane conversations. The best part of the trip wasn't the overhyped soup, the cold cuts, the rum &pineapple juice on the beach, the road trip music, the road trip talk, friends trying to be funny at your expense, the friends you haven't seen in a long time, the green stuff you take that's legal in Amsterdam, the red fireball sunset...no it wasn't all that. The best part of the trip was me, alone, sitting in the veranda of my hosts' unfinished second floor beach house, staring at the sea, listening to the steady roar it makes, drinking coffee, eating crackers at noon (because my immature friends tried to be happy party people the night before and are therefore still sleeping), and thinking... I want all these! I want to retire, own a beach house, with a second floor veranda so that i can see the sea, hear its roar, while i'm doing stuff on my pc, reading the papers, sleeping, talking to my partner (whoever she is),watching tv, listening to musc, facebooking, having breakfast, drinking coffee, tweeting, doing an artrage artwork on my ipad, etc.  That's the dreamer in me talking.  Now it's time to be realistic. To earn my "simple" dream, I will still have to work my butt off for years. To be honest, I haven't saved my money. Been buying this and that shit. I guess that goes with the territory when you're single and carefree. Sometimes, you don't think of the future. But now I have a future to plan. And the road "home" begins now, while I'm on the second floor veranda of my host's home, writing this, while listening to the ocean urge me on.

[The view from the second floor...]

[and some stuff around the house...]