huffy

"The important thing is to enjoy your life -- to be happy -- it's all that matters."
-Audrey Hepburn (as she puts it very simply with so much accuracy)

gawd is it really the december wind? i feel so "nustalgic" (with the twist of nose and a full dose of nasal pronunciation) because two thousand six is almost over. almost. what does this imply? : an assessment and a plan. oopps i don't mean to sound so resolutionist haha let's just say i want to lighten up the season with few highlights of this year. good highlights.

i am happier. way happier than before. i lost some relationships, very precious relationships, a scholarship of four years, a passion turned tedious, a work i never thought i'd survive and perhaps a room for romantic love. (im never good at dishonesty by the way)

those are bullets. i don't want to masturbate but this is my blog, what the heck. so far i am one notch higher to decisiveness because i feel more relaxed. Let me define "relax": in the past, i ran so fast and with so much passion i forgot there are "strides" and everything sweet and minute in between. i believe in regrets but not this time. i appreciate what i had before and what i am now. i admit i was never a fan of change nor (more so) monotony, thus i would prefer the former. i am relaxed because i stopped running after myself. i reached a point i forgot i already left behind something very important because of my speed. and that something is what i am trying to restore right now. unfortunately that something is myself. (how corny) but this is true. once i realized i was tired and i am heading nowhere definite in that past race, i decided (take not: decided. huh that's my strange word) to slow down, smell the cucumbers (tal)and sip red tea (wena)and laugh lightly on the side (bij chabe)and smell a bit of those red roses (yikkku). i literally slowed down. i did not stop chasing my dreams though. more like cleaning the haze of the speedy race and dusting my original plans keeping in mind my good and bad insights. ahhhhhh i feel better.

i lost a lot along the way. but you know and i know we and i cant have it all. my deep felt apologies are left unsaid and are waiting patiently for the right time. stop lecturing me when the right time is, all i know is i will not leave this world without asking them. but most importantly i would not leave this world too without thanking the people who genuinely understood. you know who you are and i can't thank you enough. i am not feeling special im just appreciative. i am not an isolated case. i believe in pure feeling and pure intentions although i am a bitch, a gossiper and a stalker. in the end we just have one life after all. as much as i want to eat all the apples i cant. i have to choose the ones i want slowly, properly and happily. happiness lies in moments. moments are fleeting events that's why they are associated with taking one's time, spontaneity and savor. i resolve to increase the number of my moments.

chill: a man in my shoes runs...

love and rubbish

i'm in a mood for you
for running away
stars come down in you
and love...you can't give it away

i distance myself from anything maudlin. but love is maudlin. enemy of all logic and reason. but i cannot say i can define it nor recognize it at this point in time. aside from my indecision, i have this bad habit of distaste (as if i am entitled to it). i easily lose hold of my inner desires or rather my superficial desires. i am prone to overacting. and unfortunately to boredom as well.

lessons at twenty

warning: the next lines are sappy.but go on, once in a while we need and write sappy.

i've been to sadness before.like a child that feels so old walking through a green labyrinth. living in this constricted order i came across a new wave of sadness. i didn't know, though i had an idea, that there are a lot of severe sadness lurking in most places: different faces, different levels of intensity. at twenty and feeling oh so old and yet oh so petty i went through an excruciating meeting and chat and tea with sadness. im not sure though if sadness is a place, a time, a person; all i know is that it does make you feel old, so old.

sadness said the saddest would be an incompetent heart. it's like not feeling enough when we ought to feel otherwise. do you know the word "invincible"? it is its favorite word. in my late teens i learned that nobody can help you at your downest moment but yourself. same goes with nobody can love you genuinely but thyself because everybody and everyone else can only listen so much. nobody would understand that heart but the owner of that freezing heart. it's good to feel invincible. it's very psychological and it makes you realize you don't owe anyone any explanation which goes to say you have no right to live up to their expectation. it's yourself that you are responsible for.

yet this does not make sadness an absolute extremist of individualism. because we share sadness. it is social. and it is even contagious. but like all diseases we are extremely advised not to propagate this desolate state. when i felt alone, i hated the guts of the happy. and in doing so i forgot to live. talk about sweating the small stuff. i always standardize people without knowing i inflicted myself with so much burden atlas would come up and spank me. feeling alone is addictive. it's like a wound. you rinse it with water, dip it with alcohol and rub it gently and then vigorously until you're sure you cant feel the pain no more. but you know it's there: it's staring wildly at you.

*don't sweat the small stuff
*you're skin fits best
*i don't owe people an explanation
*i owe people i left an explanation
*i don't live up to your standards
*as long as it's comfortable it is good to go
*unique is definitive
*people are unpredictable. in life you'll meet not one, not two but
about five hundred. you talk with hem. sometimes you do more than that
and thus still keep abreast with yourself
*yourself is your bestfriend
*yourself is your greatesy enemy
(hmmm, which is heavier: best or great?)
*friends can only be friend so much
*you can ask for forgiveness
*about my chronic disease: indecisiveness:
decide on something. firmly. whether it is wrong or right.
at least when you make the wrong decision you did make one
and will resolve not to do it again.
*there is such a thing as blessing in disguise

i will add other cliches in the near future.

and i guess recently i also learned that bangs are not dead.

restless

this is by complejo from deviant art. it's in my favorites. ilovethis.
how soon is green and red?

movies and "background" ghost in you

recently i watched a series of films from a random selection.

the prestige
as much as i hate to admit this is the best movie of 2006 in my opinion and i am not a movie savvy or anything. nevertheless, i find the story original, not until i heard there was a parallel movie released almost at the same time called The Illusionist, i want to watch that too. Anyway, the originality lies in the rival story of the two magicians, Angier and Alfredo played by two good actors Hugh Jackman and Christian Bale. It tackles not really how extraordinary magicians are but more on the universal theme of human nature. The recurring theme of obsession and selfishness were portrayed marvelously with each step that the magicians took from stealing tricks, destroying wives, physical bodily damage and fatal plots just to make sure the other suffers. Isn't it true that there is this uncanny nature that we hate the guts of people who are happy while we sit in a corner in misery. of course we would want the utopic world where everyone is happy but then we'd prefer that everyone is in misery if we cant all be happy, right? that's what you call selfish and i think it is the currency of the world.

now with regards to the technical aspect of the film, the flashbacks were confusing. but i chose to look at it as a mind boggler. while watching the film it makes us watch out for what is realy the present time, thus making us literally part of the race led by the two protagonists. i would commend the foreshadowing sof the story in tis most witty manner. i especially liked that part with the boy crying over the bird trick because he knew the magicians used two birds not one, he was crying looking for the dead brother of the bird. The mystery of the story unfolded right in front of this foreshadowed scene. there were two not one.



the portrayal of Jackman and Bale were superb. This maybe biased but the stereotyped "charmer" and "talented" exuded in there personas respectively. it was just funny that one friend commented how come the movie's title was not "the transported man" and not the prestige, which in my opinion makes a whole lot of sense. the whole movie had this irritating reiteration of the transported man as the absolute trick the world and magic will ever know. later how whimsical it was that cience was all responsible for this magic. the paradox of science juxtaposed to magic where we are supposed to see the things unexplained by scienc and not made by it. haha. the whole story was like a tapestry where evry detail was unfolded intricately at the right moment creatig=ng a grand picture by the end of the film. although the story was just, i must say in the end. and as a sign of all great movies the only thing i thought of after the credits ran through the theater screen, "i want to watch it agin". if not again and agian. =D

the blood rush and vegetarianism

my apologies to bj and miko. ive been the biggest grumpy. oh no they are not the ones on the picture. lovely pigs from peta's site. poser.

ive been contemplating how to live a better life. but the doing is all the same, stagnant and not coping with the thinking, sigh.

i was jogging, or shall i say walking, last tuesday morning, haha envisioning i was thoreau. finding happiness with the buds, the roots and the soil. waaahhh, how stupid could i get? a universal shift from vavavoom narcissistic and madonna's material girl to the naturalist, nativist, wow welcome to a new theory.

after doing it by myself, come wednesday evening i had wena and toni with me, jogging er walking around UP. but the night prior to that i had another drinking session (a.k.a diversion slash plain waste of money but beer really does it.)with my angelic girls. drink, talk, rubbish, so much for jogging hahaha.

now we went to a vegetarian restau, "latasia", and made acquaintances with its owner due to isabel roces. PETA, People for Ethical Treatment of Animals, was a whole new organizaton introduced to me. Perhaps being a non animal lover i thought the primary reason of most vegetarians is health. not until this Latasia owner, who was very articulate the whole time he was lecturing us about animals and vegetarianism, interrupted our musings of who is the famous vegetarian model. 'Ay si isabel roces ba?", he said and the rest was a long and interesting take on the road to vegetarianism.

now, at the start of the sem, i have a bunch of unhealthy relationships, financial problems, tedious syndrome, work pressure and one more unhelathy: lifestyle. i plan to cut on red meat. sort through broken relationships, thanks to me. and still go on convincing myself that each individual is unique (how cliche it gorgeous) and that all i need is to learn the art of contentment. i doubt if there is such a thing as happiness though i know there is nothing absolute. lets go for contentment in the mean time. and maybe my next posts will be a shift to buddhism. (try not to laugh please), yep il try, this ones the credo of life: TRY. and of course give it your best shot.

as for blood rush, this PMS is doing me no good. as the first sentence goes, georgina and beautiful im really sorry im always grumpy with you guys. hahaha. gay extrovert and introvert am no gay please, if looking for the male genitalia makes me one then ... uhm i wont... umm i still want it. haha. crap.

movies and sembreak

better than beer? umm? movies movies movies...

derailed (2005)
i watched this because of chekwa. i lost track of the suspense because i knew there was a twist. it's like reading the novels of ludlum and grisham (although i dont read them, i had my own share of sheldons way back in high school), detective and morbid. what struck me was that how come most of american films deal with the human psyche. particularly the abnormal, disturbed psychology. these thrillers, such as this movie, are just examples of a disturbing neurosis of blackmail and deceit. yeah for the heck of jennifer aniston's screen presence, every once in a while i think of brad pitt because of her, it's entertaining. there's just one unanswered question of my movie buddy, cee: "how come charles (owen) was able to talk to lucinda (aniston)through the office phone when she was not in fact lucinda harris?" get back to the scene where he first asked out lucinda for lunch or something.

how to make an american quilt (1995)

sarili

noong isang araw kachat ko yung nanay ko.
noong nakaraang araw kausap ko si banuk
may kachat din ako dati. hindi stranger. kaibigan.


sabi ko sa nanay ko mg bubudhist nako. sabi nya dapat magbalik loob na daw ako. sabi ko sana okay sila.

haha.

ang hirap talaga ng laging isip ng isip. tapos pgkatapos makokuclude mo sa sarili mo na wala ka nman talagang alam. wala akong gustong maging kundi ang maging hangin. ang hangin kasi kung saan man mapunta isa syang hangin. malamig, malaya, malawak, invisible, madating lalo na pag malakas. at kapantay din ng buhay ang hangin. at matagal na akong "fan" ng buhay.

habang hinihithit ko ang kahithithithit at umiinom ng masarap inuman, yellow kulay, pale, ansarap malulong sa walang kwentang usap. pero kasi kung iisipin mo ansaya ng mga ganitong usapan. kung hindi lang talaga ako isang malaking poser inask ko na sya ng date. e poser ako. tsaka ironically ma pride kahit wala nman talaga ako nun. okay lang sila mgfeeling basta cute. okay lang sa kin tahimik basta rock. okay lang din sa akin ang kanto. tindahan. fights na. ayoko nung magarbo. ayoko ng alta. ayoko ng hindi totoo.ayoko ng masikip, maputik (ay movie ni maricel na pla yun) gusto ko yung tao. gusto ko pag usapan ang buhay. ang tao.

nakakainis ako kasi feeling ako. feeling ko ako si lord. ako lang nman si shiela. si jonabeth.

paano maiyak? pagnamimiss mo yung mga taong mahalaga sayo na iniwan mo.
kapalit ng pagiging hangin ay ang pag iisa.

tatlo ang bagay na kinakatakutan ko sa mundo. mapag-isa, monotony at impermanence.

namimiss ko sila marvin at eshei. ayan mainit at mamasamasa na nman luha ko. pero seryoso. sana hindi hindi ko sila binitawan. masakit e. hirap. masakit. yung parang sugat siya na inuukit sa tuwing naalala ko. mahapdi na nga pinapahiran pa ng alkohol habang inaalala ko. nung sembreak nung 2005 sila ang kasama ko sa malate. mga poorita mirasol kami. ng bar kami tapos, isang beer lang kaya naming bilhin. ang mahal kasi ng beer sa malate. 85php. tapos syempre one fourth palang ng time namin sa disco ubos na yung beer. tinago namin yung bote tapos every now and then binabalikan namin, tinutungga namin kahit walang laman. basta todo sayaw lang. walang bayad yung sayaw. cguro kung siningil kami sa sayaw namin aabot ng 5 thou. todo sayaw at todo hingi lang kami ng tubig. ahahaha. ngayon eto ngtatype lang ako sa keyboard na itim sa computer sa bahay ngayong sembreak. sana nga panahon nalang kakampi ko. mahal ko yung mga yun. kahit walang breeding. tulad ko. kasi di kami aso sabi nga ni assunta. pero tunay sila. malutong. ansakit. chicharon.

ngayon naman binagabag ako ng isang taong dapat non existent lang. punyeta, pumapapel e. sa jologs pa turn off dapat ako. tsaka may crush yung iba. shet ngayon nalang tong ganitong post. wala nmang mgababasa neto. anlutong ng tunay na nararamdaman. kung lalaki lang ako at sya nman babae, nanuod na kami ng sine at uminom. kaso kung kami nga ay ngpalit na. hindi ko sya yayayain kasi may iba syang apple of the eye. mapula e. walang laban. kabalbalan lang meron ako. gusto ko din manuod lang ng sine at uminom. at magsulat at mgabasa at magkwento at tumawa.
at mgkaroon ng ibook. ahihihi. wala sakin mging ambisyosa. konting yaman lang gaya ni kris.

ayon. hindi ako nghahanap. ngatatgalog lang. bilang di ngsusulat sa tagalog. pasenxa parang bob ong yung style. hayaan na.

ang power of orange knickers, brighter than sunshine ay effective pa rin.

im an oldie

Down the bay where the nights are gay
And the sun shines daily on the mountain top
I took a trip on a sailing ship
And when I reached Jamaica I made a stop

-jamaica farewell

I've been walkin' these streets so long
Singin' the same old song
I know every crack in these dirty sidewalks of Broadway
Where hustle's the name of the game
And nice guys get washed away like the snow and the rain
There's been a load of compromisin'
On the road to my horizon
But I'm gonna be where the lights are shinin' on me

-rhinestine cowboy



Moon River, wider than a mile,
I'm crossing you in style some day.
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker,
wherever you're going I'm going your way.
Two drifters off to see the world.
There's such a lot of world to see.
We're after the same rainbow's end--
waiting 'round the bend,
my huckleberry friend,
Moon River and me.

-moon river

Fly me to the moon
And let me play among the stars
Let me see what spring is like
On Jupiter and Mars
In other words hold my hand
In other words darling kiss me

-fly me to the moon


*the days when i sit and sip hot chocolate and the smell of cooking emanate my mornings. papa i miss you so so so. i cant wait to shelter myself. haha december where art thou?

kinopya ko kay kel

galing to kay kel. natawa kasi talaga ako dito bigtym. nakarelate cguro. ill create a new story nlang.
Nanay: Anak ako lang naman nagaalala sa kundisyon mo. Nauuna pa ko matulog sayo tas pag gising ko gising ka na. mahirap magpuyat. Hihingi ng sukli ang katawan mo. At hindi mo alam kung saan ka aabutan...babagsak ka.

Rowena: Wag ka magalala Nay. Kayang kaya ko po ito. Nagmana ako kay Itay na masipag. Kakambal ko po ang puyat. Chillax lang Nanay. Sige Nay alis na po ako. Mahirap na habulin ng katamaran. As if mahahabol niya ko! hehe Masipag pa ako sa langgam.

Nanay: Chillax? Tsk Tsk. Mayabang.

Pagkaraan ng takdang oras:




joke lang i did not create a new story. nothing beats the original. =D

lao tzu at two am

being deeply loved by someone gives you strength
while loving someone deeply gives you courage
-Lao Tzu

here goes the mind of my genius. exactly fifteen days from now, goddess almighty will turn her clocks and take a long stride towards her twenties.

i am ramonito's little girl. the legacy of my big eyes certifies me as such. since i learned to eat durian my papa became my closest friend. he would comb my hair to a backward direction only fathers know how to.i looked ridiculous. but i didn't mind looking ridiculous for the rest of my childhood as long as papa was by my side. my mama was the terminator of my princessism. but she cooked my favorite adobo in the brownest and most delicious manner ever. i had my own share of yaya nightmares. we weren't rich but i did have fifteen or so helpers who loathed me by the time they packed their things to go home after a couple of weeks with me.
aking: lalalalalala
nancy: aking cgeg kalat. tama na
aking: wala kay trabaho kung di ko magkalat

i was six when pamela was born. ten when bea came. they were the chubbiest babies i have ever seen. believe it or not they could pass up as models for milk commercials because of their round,white, literal baby fats. you could then call me ate but i was never a good one. i was a living hell to them. i am not good you know. i want my ways. thanks to six years of unicahisms, i had a long struggle toward maturity.

fast forward.

i rushed my way to the escalator of the mrt station. my strides characterized urgency. each step my foot took to travel my night routine reminded me that i was islands away from home and that i was earning a living for myself. how old is this i--is-selfish? nineteen. good grievance her mind thinks at fory with pride and indignation towards the shallow, the selfish, the bourgeoise and the sexist. where have all the in-between-years? i shrugged because i know that all the people in this world couldn't take note of every single detail of change that time has created. i didn't but i felt it.

a couple across the mrt couldn't care less with their heads and lips everywhere, loitering. i lowered my eyes. and thought of relationships as i always do. like breathing i think of people, situations and psyches like i was god almighty. i know i know nothing. but i know for a fact that it maybe the luckiest knowledge if not th unluckiest. no mediocre knowledge please. before i reach the inevitable twenty, i longed to stop and be the smilee girl who meets her boyfriend, have girls night outs and cram for her nursing exams. then i thought otherwise.

i love being the girl who sleeps at six, hated for her guts because she's always late, kissing her girlfriends because they are beautiful, her mother calling because she texted her to give a wake up call at 11am for her class, missing the thespian and wondering where on earth could she find a friend of her mind.

ramonita's girl has gone a long way, at least i want to put it that way. but like all warrior songs, she also needs a little loving dodu goooguu to keep her human, beautifully.

lao tzu's what im unconsciously (haha) consciously waiting for. either way it will be good to become strong or courageous once in this tedious lifetime.

the wantee speaking

there is a grief in my sleep
a hush of my pending resolutions
i live because i should
now i want a biting push.

i thank the days that i am able to follow my schedule. that i am able to read what i should be reading. that i call the macintosh users. that i impart something to the applicants. that i am able to take a bath and feel the water linger in my pores.

i cry because i can't thank enough the people who understand. i weep when they show a bit of empathy. i hide when i lose the people i used to have by my side. and i sob alone because it makes me really sad.

it is really sad to be sad and to even realize that you are sad.

the need to feel inhuman and robotic
appeals to a heart clustered by itself
a heart clenched by a pool of no-choice
and individuals who refuse to stretch their feet
even just a foot

(i couldn't blame them)

wanted: a buffer. a conversationalist of the senseless and the senseful. the humanizer if not the grounder. a god needs a mudblood to reach the heights of humanity. or just the state of becoming a human. i miss that. i find it hard to tell my stories to someone who knows me all too well and to someone who knows nothing and most especially to someone who only knows about himself. because ive learned to be a listener. maybe not the perfect one but just someone who could listen a whole lot more than talk about what i am and what i have. maybe what i do and what others do.

if i would be given the chance to hook up the wanted i hope i would be given the chance. because i cry. because i am busy.

"...ooohhhh no baby please don't go. ooohhh no i just want you to stay. you'll take away the biggest part of me."

drifting

purple prose

whew!

ive learned about purple prose and it makes me sick. it made me realize how petty i was, am and has become. purple prose is used to describe passages, or sometimes entire literary works, written in prose so overly extravagant, ornate or flowery as to break the flow and draw attention to itself.. that is (what i think) i am doing.

i have also this feeling that many young bloggers (not writers) are unconsciously writing in purple prose because of a certain stage of concealment, exploration and self definition that goes with the idea of writing indirectly bordering to becoming ostentacious. i don't mean that it is that negative, maybe it is, i don't know for sure. It's just that there is a certain whip of pretense that goes with purple prose and that is what makes me sick.

anyway, this purple prose thingy was a thought, actually a speculation of what became a recent addiction. don't you feel the need to act profound, sound profound and write profound because in the life that we live there is such a thing as the "ungraspable" which makes you feel, sound and write in the ungraspable. all im saying is that it is not entirely the young bloggers, (okay) writers fault if she writes in such a way. i believe it's a stage. a stage of asking the essence of everything. i don't know but everyday i don't fail to think about how come we are alive, i am alive for that matter, breathing, loving, sexing whatever. i mean in the end we all die. do you get what i mean. people have tried to define life since time immemorial yet it remains unfathomable. hmmmmm. enough.

this is i think an exact example of a purple prose.

depressives

Larry: She doesn't want to be happy.
Dan: Everybody wants to be happy.
Larry: Depressives don't. They want to be unhappy to confirm they're depressed. If they were happy they couldn't be depressed anymore. They'd have to go out into the world and live. Which can be depressing.

i can only agree so much. the sad thing about depression is that it's addictive. it is a choice that seems to be inevitable. what i mean is that we succumb to lie deep in our sheets (or shits) and protect ourselves from losing its juices and urges to go on living. when you start to realize that you are a depressive, despite the facade of being the funniest person in the crowd, makes you long for melancholy every minute of your life. it's like inflicting pain in the most excruciating parts of oneself. unimaginable.

closer

weary:incomprehensible output.

Listening with lumps in my throat amazes me. It makes me close my eyes as if an unknown movie would replay (not play) because I’ve seen it, I’ve felt it. Softness as if strumming the guitar. Happy like the crushed ice of the red tea. Touching when you never want to be touched. A hammock, the breeze and a book. A flower, a kiss and a chocolate cake. The parts of it, the minute details. They conveniently contrive to fill up the violet edges, the semi-carved flesh and the half-empty rosebud. The completion of the thinking heart.


It may seem like a parallel universe to savor a being of a trance-like existence. When you see a tree not as green but a gingham print fresh from the west, when the breeze felt as if you were brought back to the nineties because it smelled a lot like big boy and those red cherry colored ball gums, and maybe because you tend to incorporate a wishful touch of not just breathing the past but inhaling the future you want so badly void of the in-betweens. I never thought I’d feel this vague because I hate the word vague, I prefer the “uhn” of the word vulnerable. Susceptive to succumb into my pixie world with my hues and my taste buds. I curl in my sheets and dream of never waking up but to feel warm, cared and pink.


I believe that to escape is absurd. But sometimes I don’t believe in it too. I believe in my flowing tears. When I’m tired, they run into my ears, sometimes fast and sometimes they’re hot. The hotness matches the cold rain inside the pump. Nevertheless I celebrate the abundance of my melancholy. Maybe because I am a natural masochist. I prefer the punch than the pinch because the latter seems trivial and deceiving and limited. The hard punch is real and painful and it happens. I’ve seen it happen not once and I don’t bother to count.


Today, I feel what I feel everyday. I am a motivation. I am motivated to cleanse the dirty tones inside and flaunt the happy ones. The happy outlook, the happy feet, the happy table, the happy water and the happy letter A are all outside savoring my motivation. Night comes and I’m back to my own dimension, my parallel universe. The cycle goes on and it never stops as far as I know, because by then to stop would mean to end my beloved absurdity.

overthinker one

its five in the morning. the hustle bustle of my keyboard knocked my thoughts. i surfed through my blog and realized i've been dong this for almost a year now. im sad because im not proud of anything that's written here. im not proud of my rantings. but this does not mean that i am ashamed of my entries as well because by then it would also mean i am ashamed of my exixtence. partly this is my outlet. this is reflective of my existence. part of it.

i don't mean to be profound about my thoughts. i believe people are born to be profound at one point in their lives, actually in many points of their lives. and this "profoundness" about our existence keeps us sane with all that we go through in this lifetime. see, this is literally and figuratively an example of profundity. fuck it. but i enjoy it most of the time. it makes me feel that i have lived my life thinking and thinking and learning out of that attempted or better yet innate thinking. yes, im still talking about profundity.

at nineteen, i am appalled with the vastness of my life, of other people's lives. i thought of every little thing that my mind permits me to think about. sometimes it gives me headaches. literally. sometimes it gives me heartaches. but most of the time it affects a unique weariness most likely incurable until i am alive. im saying this because i feel im blessed with the right exposure. ive meet a lot of people, a lot of situation, a lot of pain. all of them unexpected, absurd and pensive. i have learned the art of accepting every reality without truth. know what i mean? and i hate myself because of that. my dreams have gone unimaginable heights and pettiness, from pink heels to sincerely aspiring the greater benefit of my people.

see, this is going nowhere. but this is really something ive thought of each and every morning before i go to sleep. this is a journey.

once and for all id say i am beautiful. because i have learned. it feels good to be beautiful in this lifetime.

im flat broke

ive been thinking, what if i finally succumb to become a w*o*e. hahaha wishful thinking. of course not. of course not of course not...go on convince yourself

god.im flat broke.as flat as my chest.im starting to dream about my debts. the hardest times. my parents abandoned me, i choose to believe they abandoned me. its me against this wicked world.

i was never the well-off girl but i was not the poor girl either. i even used to get all that i wanted. my papa loved me that much. financially, we were okay. i could spare a few luxury every now and then. but these days, i don't know. times have surely changed, for the worst. and the sad thing (im not sure if its really that sad, i do need some company)is that its not an isolated case. my friends are broke too. they can't lend any spare moolah either.

i can only whine so much.

positive attitude can't deny a growling stomach. and im always thinking about buying a cute pair of pink heels! waaahhhh aikanasiraannangbaitdahilsagutomatpaitngbuhaynabwakananginangshet.

heels?

im killing myself by doing nine hours of training. so help me god.

ulan ulan

kagabi, naligo kami sa ulan. nagyosi kami sa tindahan. masaya. uminom.

minsan kailangan mo lang ng "once in a while" breathers to keep you sane. the rain did it last night. when you feel battered inside and out and not even your good looks could move you to see the positive side of things. but the rain did it.

haha naalala ko, pinagtitinginan kami ng mga tao habang nagtatampisaw sa ulan. kasi naman hindi kami twelve years old. well we do look like teens, ehem. tapos naatim naming magshower sa tuluan, sa gutter, sa bubong. madumi kasi yun e. kasing dumi ng... pero masayang masaya magpakawala at kumanta ng "basang basa sa ulan, walang masisilungan, walang malalapitan, sana may luha pa akong mailuluha...aegis" "why does it always rain on me...travis".

the thought of it makes me hmmmmmm. sana umulan pa at sana may panahon pa rin kaming sumayaw sa ulan. tumawa ng malakas sa ulan. kasi pagkatapos ng ulan, nakakapagod
mgtrabaho and u know, the tedious life we're living. (si tamad)

excerpts: "if you leave me now, you'll take away the biggest part of me oohhhhhh nooooo baby please don't go, i just want you to stay..." "what a feeling in my soul, love burns brighter than sunshine, brighter than sunshine, let the rain fall i don't care, im your and suddenly you're mine, brighter than sunshine..." "Oh, look what you've done. You've made a fool of everyone. Oh well, it seems likes such fun. until you lose what you had won. Give me back my point of view. 'Cause I just can't think for you. I can hardly hear you say. What should I do, well you choose..."

silence

You only see what your eyes want to see
How can life be what you want it to be
You're frozen when your heart's not open
If I could melt your heart
We'd never be apart
Give yourself to me
You hold the key


a crow flies and flaps like the desert crooning the silence of the dunes. black as it may, i would rather be black and be covered in the dunes. hot. sandy. quiet. i would rather be dark and brood all by myself. i would rather absorb the heat. the crow thrives in the vast abyss of independence. with no one by its side. no one. yet sometimes, the solitary eagerly heals. it whispers the need of my silence.

the power of orange knickers (tori amos)

hot tears. wet cheeks. damp ears.

the past week.

finally. im done with my acads. i submitted all my papers. about 20 papers in all.it doesn't matter anymore how i was able to pull through. i had my own share of misfortunes, procrastination and stress. the worst thing was finishing six pages of a mini thesis and it ended up that the computer failed to save the file. it was the worst times since i had no pc much more a laptop. i spent about five hundred bucks finishing my homeworks. it just shows how poverty worsens the poverteee.hehe and a burglar entered our new apartment last friday. two phones and two thousand pesos.

now i am left with organizing the remaining year of my stay in u.p. im supposed to graduate next year but based on my conditions i think ill be staying for one more sem or ummm or i don't know. but i should know. this summer, ill be working again.

i miss mark. i hope he reads this. he seems to have forgotten my existence. im alive. i miss you. and i think you're finally falling out of whatever we have shared. i don't want to type the word hurt. it's an understatement. obviously i have no time for metaphors for what im feeling at this very moment. i feel the avoidance. but i am not ashamed to admit that there was never a time i did not think about you. im sorry since i feel ive caused you pain and disappointment. im always thinking and living the life of the "over thinker". im born to be one. does that mean i was also born to be sad?

it's really true that when you fall for someone you will feel the extremes of pain and happiness. (yes this entry is all about me, mush and cliche but all of my thoughts spring from honest depression) last night, we drank ourselves to sleep, with red horse in hand, we talked and reached the minds, thoughts and principles of marx, engels, happiness, third world, love, personal calling, relationships, colonialism, giberish, cold war...in other words we were having our talks of a lifetime. we assumed the roles of intellectuals slash college girlfriends drowned in depression. we were happy. in my case, that was just for awhile.

the pending question was: why do you love him? answer. i just do. i think its better to rephrase it. why can't you not say that you don't love him? i didn't understand the question.double negations. we argued. we laughed at the corny question. but secretly, i sincerely pondered about the question. i thought about the rational of my feelings. my sadness. my confusion. and it's hard when you are left hanging. in a situation when there is literally no communication. when the situation is designed to look, seem and feel like everything is all right when in fact everything is not all right. good thing i had banuk and the redhorse and my smelly pillow, toto.

banuk told me that it was a choice if i subject myself to pain. that's ssoooo difficult. we proceeded to talk a lot of sense and non sense. intellectual stimulation kuno. posers!

by dawn, i was still wide awake in bed. i turned on my phone radio. jam eighty eight point. three. "feels like home" by chantal kreviazuk was playing... i cried myself to sleep.

when you can't stop the moonlight

i can't stop the moonlight. i can't do everything. i can't color your wings. i can't force your seeds to grow. i can't be your sun all day long. i can't sleep all day. i can't fight the breathing.

but i can think and wallow in sadness endlessly.i guess some people are born that way.

sometimes life brings out the worst n you and you just don't know what to do. of course there are some things actually many things beyond our control. and i find this need to be in control.

im widening my perception because i am overwhelmed with thoughts and ideas nowadays. from literary theories, theater, financial issues, social consciousness, web-like friendships, self realization and uber love.

the first few sentnces of this entry is from the bedrock of my mind. you can make sense out of it because anyway i felt those things although they are quite incomprehensible. i am always incomprehensible nowadays. inarticulate most of the time. it's discouraging how i can't reconcile my thoughts and my utterance like i used to. that's why i am into the whole qustion of control. i need to be in control.

by the way i had my haircut. it's really short. the shortest to date in my lifetime. so so short bordering to semikal. =D maybe some people would ask me what i had in mind when i decided to cut it. i want to be happy. even for just a moment. just a moment.

i don't know if that moment came.

another important thing would be my gradual maturity...

ill talk about it next time. and to wrap up this entry i will leave the moon as it is. because in actuality i am not thinking about the moon but i am thinking about the fifteenth of March. And it makes me sad. Sadder than the fact of my uncontrollable moon. But i do think of the moonlight. every minute of the day.


Entry Date: March 15, 2006

the picture is googuu

googuu

nasa internet cafe ako ngayon. this is for myself. kasi wala ako sa sarili ngayon. so much is happening around. walang tv sa bahay. may state of national emergency ngayon. sobrang konti ng alam ko. pero natatakot ako.

yang picture sa taas. i saw it from someone's blog. stress reliever. sobrang pissed off ako sa isang taong hindi nagpaparamdamdam this past few days. nakakainis lang talaga.

gusto kong pumunta ng tagaytay kanina kasama si tal. gusto kong umiskapo. may gagawin pa akong costume. bird costume.

minsan nakakahiya aminin na may blog ka. dahil sa mga posts na ganito.

basura.

the picture is googuu.

feels like home

Somethin' in your eyes, makes me wanna lose myself
Makes me wanna lose myself, in your arms
There's somethin' in your voice, makes my heart beat fast
Hope this feeling lasts, the rest of my life

If you knew how lonely my life has been
And how long I've been so alone
And if you knew how I wanted someone to come along
And change my life the way you've done

It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me
It feels like I'm all the way back where I come from
It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me
It feels like I'm all the way back where I belong

A window breaks, down a long, dark street
And a siren wails in the night
But I'm alright, 'cause I have you here with me
And I can almost see, through the dark there is light

Well, if you knew how much this moment means to me
And how long I've waited for your touch
If you knew how happy you are making me
I never thought i'd love anyone so much

-Chantal Kreviazuk-

i had a dream

last last night, he came back. full of candies and a box of chocolate cake. i couldn't believe what i saw. there he was standing in front of me and all i could do was gape and put on my defenses. i know i should not believe him. he left me or rather i left him. we left each other void of sweets.

and now there he was with candies and a box of chocolate cake. i felt warm all over. tears welled up in my eyes. he was supposed to be gone for good. i was bound to live my life anew. my dark days were spent with bluish smiles and gray laughter. at midnight tears run to my ears. i began to find it easier to believe that he was gone since i saw my little eyes.

the candies and the box of chocolate was there tempting me. they reach out to my senses and telling me he was really there. alive and looking into my eyes. i fought inside. silently. i told him i don't need any because i fear they are not really for me. he said i was wrong.

the candies and the box of chocolate cake is for you.

i thanked him. i looked at the box. i looked at it hard enough for me to reminisce the night i saw my little eyes. i tugged at my clothes and held my jacket tightly. it seemed that i hugged myself tightly too.

i looked at his eyes. i looked into them hard enough for me to tug my jacket once again. i need to feel warm. i closed my eyes and searched for the warmth.

the candies and the box of chocolate was in between us.

my eyes closed.

tagaytay blues and grays

tagaytay blues and grays

happiness comes from walking and shivering in tagaytay

scattered and scattered insights from an inspiring prof

everytime i listen to Professor Carlos Aureus i feel renewed. i l never get tired of listening to him as if mesmerized by his shaman ways. it's when you feel demoralized and then you hear him telling you the way you want to hear life. you wonder why am i existing? why am i tired? why do i need to feel my purpose? why am i empty? why am i thirsty of knowing life? understanding people? why do i have a hard time understanding?

i feel like leaving the rest of the world. i feel like living a recluse life. i feel like reading everything there is in print. i thirst. i feel misunderstood. i want the purpose.

He goes on to say how we should be challenged by enlightening ourselves.
"A mountain is a mountain, a river is a river. With zen, a mountain is not a mountain, a river is not a river. when enlightened, a mountain is a mountain, a river is a river."

do we not feel burdened when we start to know reality as it should be and not as we choose it to be? it hits me because i always refuse reality. illusions. the challenge that struck me was how we should strive for greater knowledge even if we know that along side comes sorrow.

i came to the university with my little dreams and a bundle of my courage. i was exposed gradually to the things that meant reality and purpose. i stood abreast with my self and just myself. i strive to transcend my bourgeoise self. it remains a strife. i empathized a lot. i continue to search for love. once in a while i sit down and assess my depression. i rant. emptiness creeps and i strive to empower myself.

It means i am trying to grasp life which i know will remain ungraspable.

Prof Aureus was right that we must avoid the trap of certainty, there is never an absolute situation.

And like all reader oriented theories that underscores the different interpretations of readers, life is truly about trusting thine own self.

to be a bit happy...

Stop thinking about what other people think about you. They don't think about you. They think about themselves morning, noon and night.

orange suicidals (its color) (its vivid)

ive had my nails painted orange. its not the way i feel. i feel blue. a bit dark.i thought of crying in the rain. it makes a lot of sense. art garfunkel's crying in the rain really makes me cry. (so what?) nothing. =D

how many times do you feel suicidal? Once? Twice? never? good for you. ive thought about it twice. every night. tal should be blamed for this.

"if you need to leave the world you live in, lay your head down and stay awhile. Though you may not remember dreaming, something waits for you to breathe again"- amelie

but i know this is fleeting. i love my life and im living it and loving it. there are just some moments you want to disappear in midair with your orange nails and find yourself doing nothing in a green, serene place. away from all your to-do-list...

in time =D

-How do you numb your skin
after the warmest touch
how do you slow your blood
after the body rush
how do you free your soul
after youve found a friend
how do you teach your heart
its a crime to fall in love again

new year.and im starting out with jan arden's "insensitive". it doesn't seem right for me to update what transpired by the ber months of 2005 because i am moving on, actually forcing myself to move on. hehehe. i remember myself saying, "hindi ako takot masaktan marvz kasi alam ko marami akong kaibigang sasalo sa akin",and I was hundred percent right about it. But I am hurting. The biggest lesson I have learned last year is to take control of myself because my friends can only do so much. Everything is up to me in the end.

i have never felt this way. the four letter word that is behind our existence. (aside from God)romantically. i indulged myself forgetting every hurt there is in store for me. i couldn't care less as long as i am happy right at that moment. i don't believe in it but experience tells you otherwise. It feels great to be hurt as much as it feels excrutiatingly painful to be hurt. You feel the extremes and by the end of the day you just have to talk to yourself and decide to help yourself anyway. Definitely I have learned a lot about myself. How I was so capable. How I could be very vulnerable. (comon aika)

I want him to find himself. I want his happiness. with all honesty I want all his problems solved. He deserves to be loved. I could listen to him for hours, years and maybe centuries if that's all there is to ease his pain. I guess I did.And God knows how I have learned to accept it day by day that I was not for him. (eeeewwww, OA to alam ko)

But I agree with tal that there is no such thing as "meant". Life is changing and everything is a process. If you will yourself, if I help myself things will work for me the way I want it to be. But I cannot discount all the things in between.

For now, I am into jan arden, chantal kreviazuk, lara fabian, norah jones...

In time, I might sing a new tune. in time. =D