Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Thursday, December 22, 2005
'Wag mo kong kausapin
Parang awa mo na
'Wag kang magpapaakit sakin
Ayoko lang masaktan ka
Malakas ako mambobola
Pero para sayo
Dahil para sayo
Handa akong magpakatino
Lahat ay gagawin
Basta para sayo
Hindi ikaw ung tipong niloloko
At hindi naman ako yung tipong nagseseryoso
At kahit sulit sana sa'yo ang kasalanan
Lolokohin lang kita
Dahil ayoko nang masaktan ka
'Wag kang maniniwala
Hindi ako santo
Pero para sayo
Dahil para sayo
Handa akong magpakatino
Lahat ay gagawin
Basta para sayo
Bakit nakikinig ka pa?
Matatapos na ang kanta
Pinapatakas na kita mula nung una stanza
Hindi ka ba natatakot?
Baka ikaw ay masangkot sa mga kasalanan ko
Sunday, December 11, 2005
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Of course I understood, and my schedule is not THAT bad really, because of the hours, I would be able to get all the OT for the night shift...and Monday is holiday so, that's double pay and with Christmas approaching and plans of moving out early next year, I would really need all that money that I can earn.
Those would've been cool events to cover.
I'm not a happy camper this weekend.
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Sunday, November 13, 2005
I’ve been trying to fill up this void since the past couple of years. Mostly I was able to ward off the sadness that had enveloped me but there are still times when I just can’t shake it off. The ability to grasp pain, to finally crush it within my palm is still as elusive as it had been the moment the final goodbye had been uttered.
Isn’t pain that powerful? How can it consume and gnaw at every remnant and vestige of one’s being, leaving nothing but heaps of a carcass ready to be eaten by vultures. But you can never get a hold of it, oh no. It will trick you into thinking that it has retreated, that you won. But false bravado will never hold for long. What has been bottled up inside will soon burst out. And yes, there will be nothing but space.
Like the crescent-shaped bruises left at the back of one’s hand after being tightly clasped, the bruises may disappear but the sharpness of the nail digging at your skin is enough to make you re-member.
The need to touch something alive is sharper now.
The hunger brought about by the years of wanting is more acute.
But the deal was shook upon. It was offered to me and I accepted. There was no other choice then. Either way, it would still have been the same. I'd still be living this wretched life for years to come. Watching silently as each hand I grasp pulls away because they cannot withstand my deathly-cold palm.
I live, but not really living. Despite the throbbing pulse, there are no other signs of vitality. Maybe in death...there will be.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Monday, October 31, 2005
Friday, October 28, 2005
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
I also want to buy a nifty Digital SLR cam like the one Jhamie has or something like it. Para ayuz...hehe. Sawa na akong magpapiktyur kasama ang mga popstars, rockstars, and the like.
- - -
Boring, boring, boring. Lalo na pag naalala ko na may gig kagabi yung Kamikazee sa Mayric's at inimbitahan ako (kame). At pag naririnig kong mag Amspeak con todo yung mga hinayupak na officemates ko na parang kala mo nasa Cincinnati, Ohio talaga kame, parang gusto kong magback out at bayaran na lang yung 20,000 na bond ko.
Pero shempre, in the end, as Jhamie texted, "think about the moolah."
- - -
Meron din isang nakakabwisit na bata na ka-batch ko (UP undergraduate kase so feeling niya isa siyang Diyos.) Masyadong marameng energy. Scenario: Hindi naman depressed pero uminom ng dalawang tabletas ng Prozac. Ganun. Sobra sa pa-bibo palibhasa first job niya. Kaso nung may exercise kame na gumawa daw ng Map namin about our journey at Convergys, aba'y narinig ko sa kabilang mesa, pinipilit sa mga groupmates niya ang konsepto ng metaphor sa isang boses na rinig ng lahat ng tao. Kinang-ina. Hindi ba niya alam sabe ni Kafka, metaphors kill literature. Ako nga lit major pero puro kabulastugan ang ginagawa ko dun sa poster namin at hindi mo ako maririnig na nage-exhort tungkol sa theories on the history of sexuality ni Michel Foucault kahit I'm so damn bored na.
Pero atleast, casually detached na ako sa kanila. Wala na akong balak magma-close sa kanila dahil hindi rin naman magtatagal ang pagsasama namin. Why complicate things further? Basta ang focus ko ngayon, yung trabaho ko sa Convergys at ang pagususulat ko. Tapos. Ay kasama pa pala Freefall dun...but that's IT. Marame ngang taga-Valenzuela sa officemates ko at nung nasa LRT kame nag-aya silang mag-meet on a certain time para sabay kameng papasok, tumanggi na lang ako. Politely naman, of course. Basta may discman ako pagpasok, keri na ako dun.
Anyway ayun...eto na ako. Gustong sipain ang sarili sa katarantaduhang akin na namang pinasok.
And in true existentialist fashion, the fault is mine alone.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Then the microwave oven sparked yesterday morning, so we are now reheating leftovers the old fashioned way.
- - -
Submitted one of my article (the Nina concert)...I'm halfway done with the Jimmy Bondoc/Paolo Santos article...same with PNE but I can't help but guffaw everytime I listen to the interview. Those are really funny sonofabitches.
After those I thought I was home free na but I promised the 6th Day article to Kuya Rons pa pala...Haay.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Sunday, October 09, 2005
1. Nina Concert coverage
2. Parokya ni Edgar interview
3. Jimmy Bondoc/Paolo Santos Benefit Concert.
This is all for Monday and I haven't written a single word. What the f*ck is wrong with me?
- - -
I'm scared. Terrified. But excited, somewhat. Will shed some light soon. Afraid to jinx 'it.'
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Monday, September 19, 2005
It was my cousin’s wedding earlier. I just can’t believe she’s married. Tied to the old ball-and-chain. Damned to drag it behind her back ‘til death do her and her husband part. I should probably get used to the idea of it. She’s married. She is a recent Pol Sci grad, cum laude nonetheless, yet to turn 21, 8 months pregnant, and married. It’s just so surreal. Seeing her walk down the aisle, wearing a puffy, pink gown. And she looked so radiant, so pristine. Our eyes met for just the briefest of seconds as she was walking, and I hope she got what I am mentally telling her. That no matter what everyone says, I am behind her and I am not judging her. She nodded imperceptibly, as if to acknowledge that thought.
When I first saw her, after learning she was pregnant (her brother, who lives with us informed me that she is afraid to see me) I noticed how older she looked. Suddenly, she seems so weighted down with all of these things that I was afraid that her fragility would succumb to it but she didn’t. She continued to work, even though she’s very much well on her way. She held up her head high and graciously even if people were whispering, so very obviously, behind her back. She has fallen from grace, but she has risen above.
That was her destiny. Her path. Maybe it was not the path that she chose but she has something to look forward to; something to live for. I just wish her all the luck for that.
And no, Ailil, deep down in my gut I know I am not envious. Now I know for sure that this would not be the life that I would live (yeah, I’m a live-in girl).
I had to scoff once or twice (okay so much more than that) during the officiating minister’s misogynistic exhortations that were derived from the very patriarchal book called The Bible. He was droning about the wife being the doormat, or something so much more pleasant than that. When he got to the part where a woman should respect and follow what her husband says, I was ready to stab him in the eye with a toothpick. But my mother held me off.
Oh and during the reception (I hated the food though it was eat-all-you-can. I really don’t like native cuisines, for some reason) aunts and uncles and other people were asking me when would I get married. Fought the urge to stick my finger down my throat. One uncle even kept commenting that he thought I was Katya Santos because I was so fat. Oh, yeah, he was being so funny that I just gave him a withering look (and tried very hard to contain the scathing comeback that was threatening to pour out of my tongue) and continued to assemble my halo-halo. What a pain in the ass.
- - -
My deadlines are all piling up. I’m so way behind. Will finish up everything next week. What happened in the Muziklaban stunted me that for a while, I didn’t want to write anything that is music-related. But, yeah, I’ll finish them all next week.
- - -
Splurged 300 bucks on VCD’s last Thursday while I’m at SM North with Jay. Bought three cheesy romantic comedies: The Wedding Singer, One Fine Day, and Bedazzled. Okay, Bedazzled is not a romantic comedy, but Elizabeth Hurley is a one hot she-devil and Brendan Fraser is just so damn funny (the sensitive guy and his dolphin song definitely tops my list).
Pfeiffer/Clooney, Sandler/Barrymore have such a very good chemistry on screen. During the airplane scene of the Wedding Singer I was ready to bawl my eyes out so I had my Kleenex in handy. The kitchen-kissing scene of Michelle And the very-yummy George Clooney is so romantic; it left me in warm tingles that gave way to deep depression when the euphoria passed. Haay. Single life.
- - -
To Jhamie, get well soon. Toodles! See you on Saturday.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Nahihirapan na ang aking isip
Nalilito ako, nais kong sagipin ang ating
Nguni’t handa akong palayain ka
Kay rami nang nagdaan
Kung ito ang yong hiling
Nanlalamig na bang pag-ibig mo?
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Giddy with excitement because I just bought “The Bell JaR” and the “Diary of Anais Nin” for only 450php. Now THAT is a frigging steal considering that both books are in good condition. Thanks to Jay of eBay for these amazing finds!
- - -
Half of Freefall had an impromptu reunion last Friday.
I was on my way to SM North to meet Jay, when Monyat texted me and asked me to join her and Joi at Bo's Coffee Club. I did and soon Ryan followed, then Jhamie. Too bad Karen wasn't able to make it, which is understandable since it WAS a short notice.
I was expecting an afternoon of lounging over cups of coffee and milkshakes but it became a videoke session at Encore (horrible, horrible place!), and a very loong dinner at Mr. Kebab's where the topic of discourses ranged from illicit affairs, loyalty and friendship, rhetorics, chocolate factories (both old and new), and sexual jeepney and bicycle rides which moved on to watching the Thai film, "Ong Bak" over at Monyat's. We concluded the night by posing luridly for Jhamie's cool, cool cam. If it would be included in our upcoming literary folio, that has YET to be discussed.
Such a fun night, indeed.
- - -
Covered the Muziklaban Meet and Greet the Finalist last Wednesday (September 7) and the finals too just this Saturday. Both events were tiring yet fulfilling once Jhamie and I got sight of THE Bass God, Louie Talan. Thanks to brutalgrace of Pulp Magazine for so many info that she gave about Louie.
P.S. For those of you who do not know who Louie Talan is, he is the bassist for bands such as Razorback, Kapatid, Mishka Adams, Cynthia Alexander, Pinikpikan, iSpy, and Blues Echoes among others. He also produces most of the locals bands' albums with his company, Station 1 and many albums are recorded at Wombworks Studio, which he also owns. He also attends his kid’s PTA meetings. What a guy!
Sad note, though, I learned hours after the event that three people died during the event due to a stampede at the entrance, and unfortunately, one of my dear good friend Ryan’s students was one of the casualty. Can’t believe it. Poor, poor kids. Maybe that’s the operative word in here: kids.
- - -
No events scheduled for this week yet, but I might attend the OPM Crossroads 2 on September 16,17,18. And as early as now, Jay (of http://www.titikpilipino.com/) and Jhamie (we so need a week off from each other…nagdududa na ang nanay ko sa relasyon natin, honestly) are both ribbing me about the presence of Cueshe in the line up. What can I say, sometimes, someone in this universe is working overtime to answer my whims.
- - -
Thursday, September 08, 2005
I should be writing my paper right now but my brother just installed a new video card in our pc and now I'm hooked on playing Sims 2 (Ho, the graphics are so amazing!)
So, no paper until I've finish playing. Besides, much as I enjoyed reading some post colonial theories I need to unwind after frisking my brain with appropriation, abrogation, and Homi Babha's theory of Hybridity. I deserved this break.
As for the title, I swear to god, I am SO not in the mood to interact with any gay men (read: opportunist faggots) right now. If I ever see that lolo (crazy) faggot, he gonna get it (he's gonna die)!
I hope i'm doing my code switchings right.
One more week, then I'll produce a paper that will blow even Ferda's socks off! Hah! Big Eye (ambitious)!
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Maybe the injuries weren't past all cure.
No luck lasts; yours might not, too long, stay estranged;
Some things that you still loved might still endure.
It was all different; that, at least, seemed sure.
-W.D. Snodgrass (Mutability)
It was inevitable that I’d write this. That I’d have to write YOU.
If only to purge you out of my system once and for all. I was gathering all the things that have passed from your hand to my outstretched hands. At the darkest part of my closet still hangs every article of clothing that you ever wore where all traces of your betrayal seeped its way into the stitched fabric that also reeks of my reticent pain.
I am attempting to wade through again the stacks of letters that I stashed in the box, to read each word for the last time and watch them dissolve into a black blurs against the creamy white papers before I use it to light the flames on every memento that this relationship ever acquired exactly eight years ago on the eighth day of the eighth month.
This would be the funeral pyre that would exorcise every remaining vestiges of memory that had stubbornly lodged itself on every folds of my skin through the scars of wounds that would never quite heal because of the scimitar blade that slices through it every time I would feel the space in my cold bed.
Funny that I would turn to Voodoo in destroying you, how I expect to be rid of you while the fire dances and licks my skin as each flick of the wrist guarantees more ash that I will have to sweep in the morrow.
I have been battling you, my angel-turned-demon, for two whole years. For two whole years I pulled out every sliver of shattered pieces of memory that you calmly left, without so much as a backward glance.
How easy it was for you to turn your back and walk away. Traitors should be banished to Cocytus, ironically, to freeze in there forever but who seems to be banished now?
To curl up and be fetal is not enough to ward of the chills, not even in the refuge of a stranger’s embrace can melt the icy pain that was brought upon by your leaving.
I fervently wish by burning these, this dragging and painful journey would finally come to its end.
So maybe then I could finally let myself melt away like a candle burned to its wick until the wax hardens again, and the only remaining remnant is the curl of smoke that is rising up to be inhaled by someone else.
Me, to be inhaled by somebody else.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
But I think I managed to purchase some real treasures, you be the judge:
1. Fear of Fifty by Erica Jong (95 php at Booksale SM Lazaro)
2. Disappearing Acts by Virginia Woolf (152.50 php at eBay)
3. Lot of 3 Love Stories (120 php at eBay...I just can't let go of my childhood collection)
4. Charmed Season 1 DVD (300 php at Quiapo)
5. The Motorcycle Diaries DVD (60 php at Quiapo)
6. A Very Long Engagement DVD (60 php at Quiapo)
7. If These Walls Could Talk 1 DVD (50 php at Quiapo)
8. Mr. and Mrs. Smith DVD (50 php at Quiapo)
9. Sin City DVD (50 ph at Quiapo)
10. The Crime of Padre Amarro VCD (100 php at Odyssey SM Annex)
11. Inventing the Abbotts VCD (100 php at AstroVision SM north)
12. Flat Sandals (100 php at Divisoria)
13. Slingback Pointed Slip Ons (250 php at Divisoria, big brother took care of this one for me, though)
Total: Php 1137.50
Wow. Just seeing those in print made me cringed. How can I spend all of those money in 1 week? Actually, this would've been blown up to 15++ if my mother wasn't able to stop me from bidding on a kick-ass boots at eBay. She saved me just in the nick of time.
Need a job. Badly.
Monday, July 25, 2005
by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Lonely and struggling, you've been around for a very long time.
Conflict has filled most of your life and torn apart nearly everyone you know. Yet there
is something majestic and even epic about your presence in the world. You love life all
the more for having seen its decimation. After all, it takes a village.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Professor once commented, with biting scorn, that time is just a state of mind. I may just have to agree. Or maybe it is just that time is moving forward so swiftly and somehow I'm still suspended in this state of timelessness where time stopped since I graduated a year ago.
I've been trying to run around and do something worthwhile since gaining my freedom, a truly paradoxical concept for me. I've decided to follow the Buddhist way since being an agnostic last year.
- - -
I've finally watched Tori Amos' A Sorta Fairy Tale video (and I want to thank Karen, by the way, for giving me a copy of Scarlet's Walk, and the video collection of Tori Amos. NOw i just have to get these of my wishlist, don't I?)
It was weirdly moving. Watching these two appendages trying to survive in a world of humans with complete body parts. Seeing them stumble because of their utter incompleteness. But it was a happy ending for them as they somehow managed to complete themelves. I've yet to find that. Til then it IS still a Sorta Fairy Tale for me.
To watch the vid click here
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Monday, July 11, 2005
Moving on has never been an issue for me. Never really had. I’m a pragmatic person and I hate clutter. Surviving, I’ve managed to devise my own system which I religiously follow to avoid feeling of dislocation. Its either I throw it away completely or I just sweep it under the rug, for my future masochistic pleasures. Like Isadora Wing, I believe that there is a man under my bed. The faceless man who was made of 22 years worth of dust, fallen hairs, nail clipping-undisturbed.
And so does the seven years worth of gifts, letters, trinkets, and everything else in between that had passed from Faye's hands to mine. All was kept in the wooden rice wine box with gray ropes for handle, and shoved under the old clothes that had shrunk and supposed to be given to someone else who could put it to good use.
I realized that I should've thrown all of those a couple of years ago, when being strong actually IS false bravado. But now I had to let out the fear. The fear to touch the kept mementos from a lover that had long since flitted away. I fear to lay my hands on reams of letters bound by a single, think rubber. I fear that should the rubber snap, then I would snap too then each letter and characters written in the fancy papers would float and would seep their ways into my pores. I fear that my skin hadn’t toughen up with age, and that layers of skin are actually peeling off me, one day at a time. More easier to penetrate. More susceptible to pain.
I needed the space badly but I’m afraid that if I touch everything that she had left behind, her presence would envelope the four-walled sanctuary that I’d forcefully rid of her memories. If that happens, I would wind up with lesser space than I intended to, which could suffocate me in the process.
So much fear. So much fear. Too little progress.
Ending this on a comical note, I’m alone. Single and alone.
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Friday, February 18, 2005
Sunday, January 16, 2005
Right now, this is where my life revolves, period. Not much else. Pretty boring, huh? I don’t even have that much time to whine about my current status in life. I’d rather get some sleep or catch up on the old CSI reruns. Whattalife. Whattawaste.