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5am. open book on top of the keyboard. It’s one of the books which really matter. F. Sionil Jose. You know him? He’s awesome. I think reading him took me fifty years away from this moment. And no, he does not expect me to read him at all. I couldn’t say that it’s one of the bests I read, but I appreciate him because he is a great writer. He is one of my favorites. Well, he used to be “the one” until Ernest Hemingway came into my life. Ohh that man, he made me spend a day in my bed reading his works. I remember reading him horizontally one sunny afternoon. It was warm, but I liked how the leaves outside swayed and translated them to moving strips of shadows in my room. And I think at this moment, I could do the same. Now it’s a set of short stories again, but it’s for academics. Not for fun. Close reading. Have you ever done this before. It’s one of the most lovely things to do. I think I should write about Hemingway some time two to three years after I graduate. Now it’s F. Sionil Jose. he’s like the Murakami of the Philippines, only that he talks about poverty and all. They have similar styles.