Never odd or even

Bibliophile

2010-12-15T01:43:00.000-08:00

I am an amateur book-lover. I've decided to pursue reading books as an educational, recreational and as a self-fulfilling hobby slash duty when I was first year college (I'm only fifteen years old then). With the myriad treasures and literary satisfaction that can be found and extracted by reading, I've made a stand: I'll be collecting and having those books that I've already read and must-read items I've overheard, referred to and browsed through the Internet. But collecting books is not a cinch.

I always cry foul to see exorbitant prices and taxed books in mainstream bookstores. Why do they oppress and limit the reading capacity of people who can't afford books of such price ranges. That's insufferable indeed. Dead authors still posthumously make a killing through their expensive and bestselling literary tour-de-force. Or is it the publishers? Damn lucky dummies. Anyhow, this is not the intention of my blog entry. I'm here to list down my ever-expanding collection of my own books. I've already read the majority of them, the minority is still pushed to the back-burner and hoarded as though books are edible tangibles.

The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle – Haruki Murakami

Sabbath’s Theater – Philip Roth

The Rachel Papers – Martin Amis

Atonement – Ian McEwan

Atomised – Michel Houellebecq

The Possibility of an Island – Michel Houllebecq

The Other Side of Midnight – Sidney Sheldon

The Tunnel Rats – Stephen Leather

War of the Worlds – H.G. Wells

The Picture of Dorian Gray – Oscar Wilde

The Great Gatsby – F. Scott Fitzgerald

The Fountainhead – Ayn Rand

Mr. Murder – Dean Koontz

False Memory – Dean Koontz

The Prophet – Kahlil Gibran

The Man Whose Teeth Was Exactly Alike – Philip K. Dick

The Tale of Two Cities – Charles Dickens

The Lord of the Flies – William Golding

BFG – Roald Dahl

Fiesta: The Sun Also Rises – Ernest Hemingway

Gargantua and Pantagruel – Francois Rabelais

The Catcher in the Rye – J. D. Salinger

The forgotten virtue

2010-12-09T19:39:00.000-08:00

At the Sermon on the Mount according to the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus laid out the rudimentary precepts of morality that are to become the foundation of the universality of the church and its dogmas. The sermon included the preaching of the beatitudes and some enlightening discourses. Profound and evoking as they are, Jesus' messages centered on spreading the love for the innate tendency of mankind to be perpetually righteous, upright, virtuous and good. We have the commandments and capital virtues to abide by, and I must say it's kind of tough to catch up with this spiritual requirements (though that is just my two cents). In our constant dismay we find many things that have supplanted our values. We tend to pet our vices rather than uphold virtues and scruples. We rather commit a sin than perform a good deed for the benefit of others.

We already forgot certain things that should be inherent to our nature. Case in point is understanding. Understanding is far deeper and complex than knowledge. You can know someone, but you cannot fully understand someone. Understanding is the sinewy agent that binds gaps and rifts. Understanding holds power vast enough to make this world a good deal of a place to live. Without understanding, we will all be left slack-jawed and incapacitated to different negative thoughts and harmful sentiments. We will all go down the drain without it. Understanding is the key to comprehend the complexity and intricacy of our society, but I'm warning you, it will leave you goggle-eyed and perplexed if you want to understand this universe in general.

Erring politicians, philandering husbands, sleazy whores, snotty brats, mentally slow individuals, homosexuals, murderers, cheaters, no-goodniks, dipsomaniacs, gluts, misfits, con artists, Sunday Christians, sexual offenders, substance abusers, promiscuous women, freaks, racists - the list is pretty much endless. We must put ourselves in the position wherein we have to understand them- why they do, act and think things like that, why their being, chemicals and nature are like that, why they are saddled for the continuity of their lives in a rough, bad and universally unaccepted situation, why are they predisposed to commit socially untoward and misbehaved actions, why are they doing things that are generally and ethically against our founded norms. Unfortunately, the concept of understanding is given less importance and is always misunderstood in this society we are all in. Not because you understand someone already means that you tolerate someone. Not because you are fully aware of something doesn't necessarily mean that you completely agree on it. Not because you express a personal understanding to a crime or action committed does not mean you favor it.

Understanding - this is a long-forgotten virtue. Should people from different color, creed and race start adopting understanding as a virtue, then I foresee less bloodshed, genocides, crimes, wars, conflicts, personal rifts, and arguments in its wake. If we know how to understand, then we will find out that the errors and imperfections we encounter in our lives are part and parcel of our human making.

A Taste of the Hinterlands

2010-03-07T06:01:00.001-08:00

Living in the city is very stressful, least to say very exhausting. A minute of celestial silence is as improbable and far-fetched as the idea of having an oasis in the midst of a bustling and hectic megalopolis. Urban developments such as condominiums, exclusive posh villages, and residential houses with claim-to-fame mantras such as ‘paradise in the city’ and other phony craps are tending to disseminate blatant and impulsive prevarication. You can’t have your cake and eat it too. For this matter, I find rural places and bucolic locations an honest-to-goodness seclusion, an abandon to the horrors of the city, a total dissociation from the monstrous traffic gridlocks, the noxious pollution and the barbaric acts of the unlettered.

A few days ago, my mother attended a seminar at Regency Inn in Davao City, Davao and given her long stay there, she grabbed the chance to revisit her quaint island province of Basilan – one of the many lairs of insurgent ASGs, rebels and commies. The tri-media always project Mindanao as the antithesis of peace and order, a piece of hell extruded upward from below. But when my mother arrived there, it’s not. Or it seems not. Development snowballed around the island; new houses were funded by US aids and sanitation was enjoined to every islander, roads were re-blocked, widened and repaired, coastal lands were reclaimed and nourished with immaculately white sand. PGMA even funded the reconstruction of the local parish church.

But I digress. The contention of this weblog is not to laud PGMA for her fruitful although dogged efforts to sustain development in the remotest islands and places domineered by pseudo politicos. This is just a sidebar. Moving on, my mother recounted that even though development has started to unfold, their traditional way of life is still being observed. The endemic fruit-bearing trees still yield productively. The tranquility of the rural milieu is still extant and indelible.

Having said those, my mother laments how scant the electricity is due to the rotating blackouts in Mindanao, and how her bath time rituals are curbed. Isn’t the absence of electricity a truly distinguishing hallmark of rural life, away from any technological intervention? Drought there is quite incredible, she observes, because the grasses and trees are as verdant as ever, and mind you, it rained there.

When my mother arrived here in Manila, she overwhelmed us with exciting stories back from her precious homeland. She brought pasalubong and some other stuff you can seldom buy in the city. She brought makopa ( Malacca apple) which is called locally as tambis, and purple makopa which tastes like duhat, (Java plum) the fruits just shed off from the branches and disperse profusely on the ground. She also brought agar-agar (seaweed), meat of baboy-ramo (wild boar), dried fishes, squids, small-sized shaddocks, durian macaroons, bukayo, lokot-lokot, and peanut purée. She would have brought home more fruits, had she been not collared in some frivolous air security snarl wherein she was weighed and was required to pay extra. It was totally unfair, she cries foul, because she’s overweight; the hand-carried items and backpacks notwithstanding.

New Year. New Fears.

2010-01-17T04:53:00.000-08:00

Egad. It's 2010 already, and I still couldn't come up with a probable solution to end my delusions and illusions that are constantly haunting my consciousness. I haven't end up with a neat new-year's must do and the proverbial new year's resolution as well, but I think I can outlive those things. I am just looking forward to being an organized, proactive, Homo Sapiens who is perfectly exuding the aura of resolute will and unwavering principles. By the way, am planning to buy a New Year planner, though it is almost already a month late, and I am thinking that this might be a very big leap forward for me, a monolith of an imaginary bridge to connect the distant crevices of my present situation and the near-perfect situation I am always concocting in the convolutions of my mind.

Maybe, just maybe, having a planner would put a halt to my grandstanding hallucinations about this freakin' life. I am always pitted in a whirlwind of different reveries only to learn that gradually, I find my self dissociated from the normalcy of this world. And I think, this planner, (ooh, how I badly need you!) would become my lifeline to the two contrasting worlds where I find no difficulty to slip by into. Or would open another portal to another feasible dimension or dimensions, so that I could linger in the choice of turning my back on the world I am already inured with? I dunno. Maybe I'll have the planner first.

Poisoning the Well

2009-10-26T21:57:00.001-07:00

It was poison. Yes, it was. That delicate thing preposterously dolled up into an amateurish veneer was nothing but a harmful lump of vomit-inducing crap. It would dizzy your senses and delude you into thinking that you were great, wonderful and awfully brilliant, but the harsh reality was that, you were a sore loser. Your vulnerable stance would just exacerbate it. And all the insensitive people around you would add more bitter insults to the irrevocable injury. You thought of it as a mighty thing worthy of your short-lived attention, and that it was as good as having a vanilla-chocolate sundae all messed up on your hands and mouth, but which was just fine, because the flavor was too deliciously decadent. You would laugh at how shallow the order of some things in life was, and at your back was a horde of uncouth shadows, casting aspersions upon your unwitting and pathetic soul for doing such a thing. The big surprises you had anticipated for so long, oh, they were all but fictitious fragments imbibed on your head.

As you mull these weighty tragedies over, your mortal body would just squirm in unbearable pain brought about by a substance foreign to your being. That substance was a debilitating poison meant to ruin the flawed logistics of your already ruined life. With all these bitterness and desperation, it was just as pointless as having a cessation in your physical motor, but it was just as stupidly moronic as having killed yourself for not getting even to those who wronged you. It was poison, you are pretty sure of that, and you were resolved to take the lion’s share in your own heroic story of defeat. And to make things straight, your foolproof plan of injecting that poison to those who were heavily involved would just do well. And it was too perfect.

Farewell, Penthouse

2009-07-31T21:41:00.000-07:00

Let’s say goodbye, the hundredth time, and tomorrow we’ll do it again

– My Chemical Romance

Penthouse – this is a special place brimful of memories that will hold a special part in the hearts of its occupants lulled to a bottomless ocean of hopes and dreams. Its lofty location is a downside to weak and shaky knees unaccustomed to endure winding stairs, with the innumerable flight of steps to boot. Getting here to feel its magnetic warmth would surely offset the tiresome jaunt. This can be the only place in the campus where only few of the many bright minds meet, where individuals of different idiosyncrasies, ideals and endeavors congregate, where brainiacs gather to postulate senseless and sensible theories, debunk faulty procedures and standards, and raise significant and not-so-significant points for this small world to acknowledge or refute. This is the only place where intense intercourses are an imperative to ejaculate the irrepressible qualms of the curious mind; and masturbation is solace for the world-weary and downtrodden spirits (of course, this is done mentally). If you want to unwind after the school hours, feel free to sing and belt out gibberish to your heart’s content and drown your sorrows with a surplus of general knowledge, anecdotes, criticisms, bloopers, juicy gossips, highbrow words, prejudices, porno reviews and all that jazz. This is the only place where euphemisms are always triple-entendre, where the genderless Christian God can have a phallus, where formalities and politeness are temporarily disregarded for the sake of barbarism, and where appearances are just superficial attributes to the deception each and everyone is capable of doing. Those who have already set foot on this hallowed ground will surely realize that life is a cosmic joke of sorts. The transience and impermanence of life is but an outright contradiction against its essence and purpose.

Should the killer boredom strike unbidden, there’s another world which lay just on the other side of this working room. It is colloquially known as the Veranda. The vistas of the Manila skyscrapers puncturing the sky, the colossal statue of Lapu-Lapu facing west, the LRT carriageway with its three generations of train cars, the massive corroding columns and girders of the former Jai Alai Building, plus a beautiful sundown rendered picturesque by Rayleigh scattering and the polluted Manila air, make it a favorite haunt for those who want to kill time and want to derive inspiration from some elusive and unseen Muses.

This place has already charmed many generations; those who are too smitten by its mystical aura can vouch for that. At this point in time, letting go of an old friend may not become a piece of cake. Packing bags, stripping it of its contents and vacating it for good are equal to saying those unutterable parting words. So long and good-bye.

Star Gazing

2009-07-05T02:06:00.000-07:00

I always love to look at the stars, to marvel at their nocturnal beauty, and to admire them wholeheartedly like a teary-eyed child after recovery of his lost cherished playthings. So God really loves all of us, and just by looking at the stars I feel kind of extra-special because of this mystery-laden wonder. He, who flung about lump of rocks and self-illuminating gaseous balls in this ink-black stretch of vastness, is the reason behind the intelligent design of all things seen and still unseen.

And now, we can enjoy romantic candle-lit dinners under the star-seeded heavens, with the faint but cute backdrop of the Milky Way, the ambient light of the full moon, the twinkling constellations and the short-lived pretty shooting stars in a collision course towards the Earth.

It never fails to amaze me that we are all just microscopic carbon-based specks dwarfed by celestial supergiants and humongous spheres of helium and hydrogen. These things, some of which are beyond human scale, do nothing but evoke perplexity and human insignificance.

Nevertheless, we are no ordinary creations; we can think, we can reason out, we can feel, we can fare the oceans, and we can reach the heavens and the outer space. But from an omniscient point of view, we are just wretched bunch of grasping creatures, ever clueless and confounded as to what the Creator’s intentions really are.

I always love to look at the stars and ask myself the absurd, oft-repeated question Why am I here? What if I’m just created to admire the starry skies? What if my sole mortal purpose – my raison d’etre – is to become astonished by the Universe’s inscrutable complexities? I don’t know… I don’t know yet.

Nang Binosohan ko ang Mundo Nila

2009-06-10T22:18:00.001-07:00

Ang sarap pala maging bossing, kahit saglitan lang. Kapag binigyan ka na ng oportunidad na umupo sa dakilang office chair (ang pinakamatayog sa lahat), wala ka nang ibang papangarapin pa kung hindi ma-glue ang pwet mo sa kalambutan nito. Gagawin mong tomba-tomba ang leather na upuan, dede-kwatro ka at kukuyakoy, itataas-baba ang lever, at iikot-ikot ito na parang carousel. Sa harap mo naman ay nakatambad ang isang computer monitor na widescreen ang aspect ratio, nakakalula ito, pero sanayan lang. Fit for a king, ika nga.

Pwede kang manood ng hardcore porn na life-size dito, pero sa bahay mo gagawin yun, dahil ikaw nga ang bossing, disente ka dapat. Kapag trip mo naman, puede mong utusan yung mga subordinate mo na ipagtimpla ka ng kapeng walang asukal, o ibili ka ng Coke Zero sa Mini-Stop. Mag-a-abot ka lang ng malutong na paper bill habang sumisipol at tatapik-tapikin mo ang armrest ng iyong 'seat of authority.' Maangas di ba? Pero may mas maangas pa dyan. Ikaw, bilang bossing, ang kinatawan ng kampanya mo at ikaw ang haharap at mambo-bola sa mga kliyente. Ang mga tauhan mo naman ang sasagot ng telepono at magbu-bukas ng pintuan kapag may bisita. Sila ang magko-compute kung magkano ang total expenditure ng inyong kumpanya sa mga nagdaang buwan; ikaw naman ay hihikab lang ng malaki habang pupungay-pungay ang mga mata. Ikaw ang utak, sila naman ang kamay. Kung baga sa pelikula, ikaw ang bida, at mga sidekick lang sila.

Hindi lang masarap maging bossing, masaya din pala. Bilang bossing madiskarte ka dapat, madaling mag-isip, may presence of mind at may katangian ng isang competent na pinuno. Hindi ka magiging bossing kung pagtunganga lang ang skill mo, ang pagba-browse ng mga sexy picture ni Ariani Nogueira ang inaatupag mo, at pagfe-Facebook at sumagot ng quiz ang agenda mo sa office hours. Kung ganito ka, wala kang karapatang umapak sa hallowed grounds ng isang opisina; mas bagay kang mamitas ng mga talbos sa kangkungan.

Ang sarap pala maging bossing. Dahil narating mo ang isang tuktok na sinimulan mong akyatin galing sa baba. Bossing ka, hindi dahil pinalad ka, kung hindi dahil naunahan mo ang mga subordinates mo sa isang uphill climb, dahil mapangahas ka at malakas ang stamina mo na lampasan ang mga pagsubok. Pustahan, wala ka sa posisyon mong yan ngayon kung wala kang direksyon sa buhay, magulo man ito pero hawak mo pa rin ang manibela. Dahil hindi ka nakaupo sa napakalambot na office chair kung wala kang commitment sa trabaho mo. At dahil hindi ka ngayon naka-titig sa nakakaliyong monitor kung hindi ka nag-pursige, nag-tiyaga at minsan ay nag-ilusyon na magiging bossing ka rin.

Inspiration

2009-06-09T02:57:00.000-07:00

It is a gut instinct to stoop down at the sight of a beautiful object or a formidable piece of art that triggers and evokes chaste emotional admiration. But to weep at them is more sublime than to kneel in astonishment. To appreciate aesthetics in its raw and final form is nothing compared to dissecting the materialization of a form starting from random whims and concepts up to its making. Creating an art out of nothing is the climax. Having a productive input is the anticlimax. From an outright vacuum sprouts horror vacui, a chaos blooms into order and unity, and a vast array of beautiful form and shape pandering to man’s every senses is admittedly the corollary. We see magnum opuses of all sorts every day, we pass across them, step on them, touch them, but some people’s appreciation is threateningly low. Those who overlook have little or no sense of harmony at all. The minority who appreciate are those who build, improve and keep each and every type, kind and form of art. Those who destroy have no sense of harmony; they have incongruent minds that signify disorder. Nature, the mother of all art, must be revered and respected. Being the highest form of art and the unanimous apotheosis of beauty, it lends form to many facets of man’s way of life and way of thinking. So the next time you see a marvellous creation, it is not necessary for you to kneel and fake a baby cry, just breathe deeply, relax, and let the Muses do take control.

Kingpin

2009-06-03T18:40:00.000-07:00

If I were a kingpin, then you were a cog. Guilt of insignificance may attack anyone unawares, but it still can be remedied. If you find yourself a waste of space, a particle of dust that always end up stuck on allergic nostrils, then your days are now numbered. Finding your niche in this world is not that easy, but learning to adapt to every situation will surely make a big difference.

In Between Sex and Scandal

2009-05-20T01:23:00.000-07:00

WITH PURITY AND WITH HOLINESS I will pass my life and practice my Art. I will not cut persons laboring under the stone, but will leave this to be done by men who are practitioners of this work. Into whatever houses I enter, I will go into them for the benefit of the sick, and will abstain from every voluntary act of mischief and corruption; and, further from the seduction of females or males, of freemen and slaves.

-Excerpts from the Hippocratic Oath.

*************

If I were to record a video of myself having a kinky coitus with a voluptuous, submissive and oversexed woman on a king-size bed, I would make sure that that precious video would last more than eleven minutes full of erupting passion. I would position the handy video cam in a well-hidden vantage point without her knowing it. I would perform sadomasochistic rituals worthy of videoing, and then perfect both the introductory and closing rites with a brain-freezing, mind-blowing you-know-what. I would make sure the audio is fine-tuned and the LCD allows for ultra light sensitivity to record superbly the melodic moans and the fast-paced drama. After the fussy preparations for this act of love would come the fruition – a sex video that would make illicit movie pirates earn easy bucks and the old conservative fogies of the Optical Media Board gloat with disgust, or horniness, for all I know. But that would only happen if I was a person who was out of his mind, a person whose sanity was hanging by a thread. If I recorded one, or yet another one, I would meticulously stash it into a personalized compartment at home, and it was my duty not to leak them in the cyber space and garner the monitors of sex-starved netizens jerking off their way onto the pearly gates of heaven.

Never would I share them to everyone, even to my closest friends, and never would I let my partner know it. But the lecherous pervert that I was, and if necessity of thrill arose, I would upload the carnal video sans the incriminating faces of mine and my partner to protect our ‘dignity’ and save my sorry ass from the curbed humiliation. Oh, paradoxes really go hand in hand. And if I were a public-servant professional, a practicing physician with the well-chiseled body, the good looks and a bountiful libido, with the hots for groin-paining chinita TV commercial models, and actresses who splurge money on habitual rhinoplasty and breast augmentation, and Amazon models, I should duly find a way not to spill the beans of my dirty deeds. I should play safe because if and only if I were an ethical person; and I should not if I were a brash, attention-seeking, perverted prick. Not to mention that I have had violated human rights, so to speak.

*************

If you want the link/s for the video sites, find them yourself in the Internet. Just be resourceful. Take my word for it.

Haiku: Rain

2009-05-07T05:47:00.000-07:00

It's not that I'm feeling emo because of typhoon Emong, it's just that I'm running out of decent things to do.

_________

Rain, rain, go away,

Why early in summer days?

Ashore, let me play.

________

So instead of going out, I am cooping up myself in the house, thanks to the intermittent rain showers and a signal-number-one storm unusual for the sunny season. Earlier this day, I took a bath under the rain, and the raindrops were piercing and pelting my skin. Acid rain, probably.

Olats

2009-04-26T04:13:00.001-07:00

Mamula-mula na ang mukha mo, mukhang may amats ka na naman. Kagagaling mo lang siguro ng inuman kasama ang mga barkada mong paniguradong may amats na rin at gumagapang na pauwi ng bahay.

Alam ko, mas malala ka pa sa mga iyon, sa mga basag-ulong utak-biya at sunog-baga na mga kaibigan mo, na walang ginawa kung hindi turuan ka ng samu’t saring kabulastugan ngunit tinutulungan ka naman sa harap ng mga katakut-takot na problema. Maganda ‘yun, pero ang mga ginagawa mo, hindi talaga maganda.

Alam kong rinding-rindi ka na at bad-trip na bad-trip na sa mga sigaw at utos ni ermat at ni erpat, sa mga sermon at take-home assignment ng mga prof na mga nagmamagaling sa buhay, sa mga utang sa kamag-aral na hindi pa nababayaran, sa pagiging busted mo ng ika-limang beses in a row at sa na-hack mong Friendster account.

Ngayon, sumusuray-suray ka na, nahihirapang bumalanse dahil sa labis-labis na alak, naghahanap ng makakapitan, at naghahanap ng makikisalo sa iyong pasanin. Maswerte kang nilalang at nandito ako, lasing lamang sa pangarap, ngunit ang tuhod naman ay matatag, hindi basta-basta bumibigay.

Habang inaalalayan kita, nakita ko ang nangingilid na luha sa mga mata mo. Akala ko matapang ka, malakas ang loob, at hindi basta-basta nagpapatalo. Ngayon, para ka nang isang lampayatot na nadapa, isang uhuging batang inagawan ng Stick-O, isang uugod-ugod na gurang na sabay inatake ng rayuma at depresyon dulot ng pakikinig ng emo na tugtugin.

Oo na, isa na akong malaking talunan, biglang sambit mo.

Napahagalpak na lang akong bigla sa mga sinabi mong yun, pero hindi na ako nagulat, dahil alam ko naman ‘yun simula’t sapul pa nang nakilala kita.

Alam mo, hindi ka lang isang malaking talunan, isa ka ring malaking hangal, magiliw kong sinabi sa ‘yo.

Hangal, dahil sa pag-aakala mong ikaw lang ang pumapasan sa nakamamatay na bigat ng daigdig, na ikaw lang ang tangi at kalunus-lunos na biktima ng iyong kunwa-kunwariang tadhana. At hangal dahil masyado ka nang nalalayo sa reyalidad.

Tinapik-tapik ko ang likod mo, at pagdaka’y ngumalngal ka na lang bigla sa gitna ng malungkot na dis-oras ng gabi.

Ayos lang yan, sabi ko sa ‘yo, ilabas mo lang lahat ng sama ng loob mo sa pag-iyak at bubuti rin naman ang lahat. Yun nga lang, mukhang matatagalan pa.

Bigla mo na lang pinilit tumahan sa abot ng iyong makakaya, at sinundan ito ng katahimikan. Bakit, anong problema? Tinanong kita.

Siguro, pag makita ako ng mga kaibigan ko nang ganito, baka bigla nila akong gulpihin.

Bakit naman?

Dahil hindi naman sila ganito tulad ko kahit mas talunan pa sila kesa sa akin. At kahit na mas patapon ang mga buhay nila kesa sa akin.

Bigla na lang akong napa-buntong-hininga, at pagkatapos ay napangiti dahil napag-tanto mo na rin sa wakas ang ganyang bagay, at mukhang nahimasmasan ka na.

Ano, tara, inom ulit tayo, anyaya ko sayo.

At bigla ka nalang bumitaw sa pagkakakapit sa akin.

Out of Order

2009-04-24T01:04:00.000-07:00

On your way to school or work, you suddenly sense that your bladder has distended, perhaps from surfeit of liquid waste, and then you feel the urgency to extract the juices out of your urinary viscera to ease the discomfort. You will look for the nearest public establishment, say, Mcdonald’s, to have a precious pee-pee, and to feel afterwards that you belong again to the world. But much to your disappointment, all the urinals and cubicles, if not occupied, are out of order.

Yes, as the Murphy’s Law states it, anything that can go wrong will go wrong. And all things that go wrong are hands down irritating. But some things that come crashing are not all the time sources of further dismay and grievances. Sometimes, they have a bright side— a silver lining. They have subliminal messages of fulfilment and satisfaction.

Back to the subject of the out of order urinals and cubicles, well, that kind of situation is one of those rare moments of implicit affliction where you can derive empathy and develop a brimming love for the meaning of existence. Do not let a full bladder miff you so much; instead, take pleasure in an annoying situation for it will never last long. You may either leave the place to look for another john or let yourself be petrified on the spot by a full bladder. You shall relish the indignity being offered by the moment, and in this way, you will never feel offended by any circumstantial ineptitude.

Take for example the omorashi fetishists who enjoy a full bladder. Now, do you get the picture?

In a manner of speaking, a feeling of joyous supremacy and domination can be derived from a mishap, a failure, a contretemps, a defeat. And from our proverbial out-of-order-urinals-and-cubicles example, you can attain a Nirvana-ish sentience and indulge in a fit of self-actualization just by enshrining an untoward moment. Just like a sexually-starved masochist who will willingly transform blows of torturous pain into an orgiastic and gratifying pleasure of the senses. It is turning a negative force to a positive one. It is countering a negative mood with a positive aura.

Simply put, you must bask into moments of inadequacy, of wrong twists of fate and of bungled circumstances, and enjoy them like hell. Yeah, enjoy them like hell. And laugh at them if you want to, with a matching sinister laugh undertoned by sarcasm. Laugh at your bloody mistakes, and laugh at the universe’s inevitable glitches and lapses as well. Life is fleeting, and so are the innumerable negativity and flop appended to it.

One Muggy Summer Morning…

2009-04-08T00:58:00.000-07:00

I was in the midst of a maelstrom of dreams when a thunderous bellowing had abruptly made me half-awake. The booming voice was very familiar. My sense of hearing identified the coarse tone, the high-pitched voice, and the reckless litany of foul words- it was my mother’s.

‘This house was never been a house! Everything was messed up! I was away for only two days, and no one cared to fix things here! ’

My eyes were still closed and I decided to continue my sleep hoping to catch up with the unfinished dream. But the words were persistently penetrating my eardrums.

‘And you Alex, (my big brother, not his real name) you are not always here! You lazy ass!!! If you’re here at this friggin’ house, you’re busy, and you’re with your cohorts while minding insignificant matters. You frequently bring friends here as if this bedeviled house is a party house! Look at the heap of dried clothes in the sofa, they weren’t even friggin’ touched! Who'll gonna do them for you? The socks, the hankies! Get up from the bed! Son of a sloth!!!’

Perhaps this is only a terrible adjunct to my formerly-dulcet dream. Or could it be a nightmare?

‘And you Ellen (my little sister, not her real name of course), you’re a girl but you don’t have a sense of order. Look everywhere!!! Whore! You don’t even know how to sweep the rooms, or arrange what has been disorganized! Bummer!!! Now get up from bed too or I’ll hit you with the friggin’ broom!’

Broom. The word reverberated. Ah, it perfectly rhymes with room. Holy Guacamole! My room! MY ROOM!!!

‘And you ____(my name withheld), while I’m away, you’re away too! You’ve been friggin’ gone for whole two days. You are of no help in this house! Look at your friggin’ room! It’s an annex to some stinking dump site! You choose, make a magic to clean it or I’ll throw your things away? I’ll give you an ultimatum, and if you don’t do anything, you'll see what you're looking for! Now unlock your room, I'll get the hangers! You're getting on my nerves!!!’

‘Ackkk!!! I’m friggin’ late! This is all your fault.! I’m the one who lives nearest to our office, but I always arrive late. You know why, because I commit all my mornings cleaning this fucked-up place!!! Really fucked-up! You’re supposed to be helping me out to maintain cleanliness, but look! All your junks, your rubbish, I’m gonna burn this house soon! You friggin’ children of whores!!! Oh, the bitches! The scabies-infested pups! Who let them on the loose? The neighbors are griping!’

If the discordant voice and the pernicious accusations were an earthquake, then my ears were a Richter scale. The seismic magnitude is so prodigious that mitigating the damages would be unnecessary.

Mother’s last words faded like an echo of a plinking campanile, deafening yet remaining. When the decibels of pure, concentrated silence sallied forth from out of nowhere, I gratefully snuggled my pillows to find reprieve. Ah! The sounds of the chirruping birds and the cockadoodledooing roosters outside the window are so endearing to hear. It is going to be a fine, sunny day ahead for sure.

The Tales of The Irked

2009-04-02T06:56:00.000-07:00

The charisma and economic appeal of the LRT is still unfaltering and indomitable for the commuting hoi polloi. But I, for one, reckon that the LRT operations should be suspended or canceled once in a while just to save a great deal of money, time, effort, morality and yes, virtue.

Every LRT train car has their own violent vortex to unmercifully suck gullible commuters inside, and pucker them like dried sardines in a tin can. If you are uninterested to wait for the next crowded train, you might as well squeeze your flesh and bones in the midst of the thick passenger plethora in the train car. If and only if you are one of God’s lucky children, nothing bad will happen to you. Then if you are an inborn jinx, you might end up with a broken finger, leg or wrist, or a face slammed smack on the automatic door’s tempered-glass panels. The scenario in almost all equally-populated stations is a pathetic scene to behold, let alone the jam-packed concourse and ungodly queue lengths.

Inside the train cars, it is an impossible actuation to strain any bodily muscles, only your eyeballs are allowed to spontaneously move. The motley crew of passengers also means motley of ineffable and indistinguishable aromas emanating from dysfunctional sebaceous glands. The homogenous mixture is a putrid combination, rivaling that of Payatas’ mélange of malodorous vapor. You are spared from such a lurid snarl if you have nostrils clogged with thick, hardened calculus or you instantly acquired anosmia just in the nick of time.

Another complication that could follow is the presence of lechers and maniacs. Women will be perverted as long as there is a chance, and men are not exempted from that. If there were lascivious asinine old-timers, there would also be the equine cross-dressing faggots. These LRT stock characters will leverage the insufferable horde of unsuspecting people in their own sexual behooves. Pickpockets, however, will never be left out of the scene, they are but infuriatingly passé.

If you steeled yourself to muscle in on the train car successfully, the effort you exerted in your initial venture must be quadrupled to get out past the intransigent standing passengers. You need not to mind kneeing frail legs or stepping on newly-pedicured toes because your co-passengers also would not mind blocking your way. Now, that’s what you call an efficient human barrier.

After alighting from such horror, the turnstile within sight is the consoling prize for you. Your ride is just like finishing an arduous marathon, only less than the stretch of the Baclaran-Monumento route. For occasional commuters, this is a stinking dung heap to hurdle. For the inured habitués, this is the inexorable way of life.

Mama Don't Preach

2009-03-24T08:49:00.000-07:00

If there’s something I want to change in my life, it is my not being serious towards everything I do. You may find me a family rebel slash occasional family yes-man or even a sleazy boy slash seldom dutiful boy who knows a lot about cooking but pigs out all food in the refrigirator by his self, the heaven I care. I’m into anything under the hot, scorching sun. I am a maestro specializing in the art of sleeping, but I dunno how to smoothen out the gazillion convolutions and creases my bed cover has. I let my room become a Petri dish for multifaceted organisms and lifeforms to breed. I’m appreciative to the aesthetic effect the drooping gossamers have done to the cornice of my room’s ceiling. I half open the windows in my room to orchestrate the moisture so that mildews, molds and extraterrestrial toadstools would sprout healthily on every nook and cranny in my room. (Now God will be proud of me for sharing my sacrosanct pigsty to some of his other creations.) Am I really that eccentric, eh? On weekday mornings, I swear to God that I really don’t know what a comb is. Or what in the whole wide world a mirror is. I only know hair wax- which I use it to dishevel more my very disheveled hair, and perfume, you know, to add sweet, saccharine smell to my not-so-sweet aura. Call me unwell-groomed, and I’ll take it as a million-dollar compliment.

As I go out school-bound to ride a jeep, I’ll have to trudge about 359 paces going to the main road to remember that I forget something. It’s perfunctory that I’ll journey back homeward to get either my allowance, my hanky, my school ID, my water tumbler, or my hair wax, which I use to dishevel more my very disheveled hair. Nonetheless, I’m a tad boy with not-so-tad ambitions. I can perfect quizzes (please insert a round of applause or a hook punch swoop cue here) and flunk the morrow quizzes. I am your average student who yawns widely in front of the lecturing professor as he kindles more of the collective tedium in the classroom; I impulsively pick my nose as mad as a hatter while jotting down stenographic notes, and sleep while simulating how fishes doze off without their having to close their eyes.

So, I said I have not-so-tad ambitions. Yep, just like anyone else. Those ambitions, I must say, were formulated without being mulled over seriously. Now they are stashed in some uncharted stead inside my gray matter, waiting to be dispatched or to be rehashed for future references. For now, I am a sitting duck. My stance is vulnerable to extraneous influences and a helluva deviltry, perhaps because I did not give ample seriousness to the minutiae of my existential being, or to the discombobulating enigma of life. Oh life. Or it is just an upshot of my being an ungrateful brat who never says grace before and after meals?

I am just a curious creature with much obscure questions to ask. I know you smart-Aleck kid would precociously reply that it is natural for we, as humans, are rational beings. But sometimes I am irrational, kiddo. At times, I easily believe in things that I read, hear and see. Tell me that Richard Dawkins will apologetically recant his blasphemous creator-smashing philosophies, and I will cheerfully spread the loving news to my little sister, to my little sister’s friends, to the friends of my little sister’s friends, and to the friends of the friends of my little sister’s friends with vim and vigor. Persuade me more to read and reread and overdose myself with Conrado de Quiros’ almost-Machiavellian rants, and in no time, I’ll become a die-hard and true-blue PGMA destructive critic.

I once questioned my purpose, my life, and all those itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny things that happen here and there. What if the Creation Theory is just a figment of someone’s imagination and fart combined? What if reincarnation is true, and then you find yourself reincarnated on an inanimate object, say, a toilet paper? Then holy baloney, the unsolicited law of karma will take center stage. All the shit you heaped upon everyone in your mundane days will backfire, and you know next that you’re a dead meat. Thence, the literal shit will be literally wiped on your literally whole fibrous fabric, it’s your just punishment, and all you can do is curse and ululate “you asShole, ya’ll pay for this!!!’ sans the vocal cords, to that rotten, befouled fundament who tainted you.

Honestly, I want to have a normal outlook and mindset in life. I’m tired of intrusive thoughts, soul-searching, contemplation and incessant whining about Pluto’s miserable eviction as a planet in the Solar System. I just want to do unique things, experience new things, and efface some of my unpleasant behaviors. I want to be kind all the time, like trying to flash my pearly-white smile to everyone I will come across, even if I don’t know anyone of them. In due respect to my moral principles I edified some years ago, I will never scribble again phallic symbols drawn side by side a stylized, diamond-shaped linear vulva on the school’s drafting tables as I brim with overweening machismo assertion (you fool, it is not vandalism, it is art.) I will never shout again muted expletives and invectives against my professors, my parents, my friends and to the priests back home who say mass for two hours. I will never ever surf the net again at home at ungodly hours just to find some softcore, dulcet-moaning Ozawa vid clips just to end up waking my nosy mother in the adjacent room. I will never blow my nose again in front of or near a church even if it can’t be helped (blame the god-damned polluted air) and et cetera.

As I cogitate for a fitting closing salvo, I became a doubting Thomas; I doubted my self, my one and only ally in times of doubled trouble, “what if I only play a minor role in the significance of the universe?” My spastic fingers and strained eyes, too, questioned my consciousness and my enervated synapses, “Hey, are you on illegal drugs? Why are you typing this kind of bosh and sappy things? ” “Nah ah,” I said. “So, you are really going to take life seriously? It’s quite a big leap.” “Not really,” I retorted, “I’ll just do it as some teenybopper named Jordin Sparks sings it— one step a time. Oh, I almost forget, there’s no need to rush.”

Parallel Universe

2009-03-23T18:06:00.000-07:00

What if there really is a parallel universe out there, a macrocosm wherein a version of you and me exists? If that is probable, they might be more intimate than bosom friends, treading any path together only centimeters apart, more affectionate than eager lovers, with hands glued together. There could be a vast field where they always frolic under the sun, carefree all the time, because of a sinewy emotional bond that ties them together. They could also think of nothing else but each other, doing nothing but kill time and banter while saying sweet nothings, telling each other how much love has engulfed them. In that parallel universe, they will never run out of time, there will be no roadblocks, no hassles, and no impasse. But all of that are big ifs. What if that parallel world is a coincidental one? It will only conclude that the idea of us being together is preposterous. We will still remain the same immobile acquaintances, used to exchanging his and hellos under a cloudy and somber day.

Sugarcoated

2009-03-19T07:11:00.000-07:00

In just a split second, an intense fixation of someone could morph instantly into a deep-seated abomination. One might end up cursing a long-revered friend, or end up entreating an atrocious saboteur. As the clichéd cliché goes-- people do change.

The Glitch

2009-02-04T02:57:00.001-08:00

What is supposed to be an enjoyable, unforgettable on-board cruise trip had turned out to be a disastrous, vertiginous and exasperating account. Some sort of an apocalyptic flick set on a spacious warship chartering the violent oceans to find the calm of a tempest. The boat was rocked, and those involved are on the same boat. After the lifeline was intentionally been cut, confronting the oppressors vis-à-vis had become the only choice.

The Flight

2009-01-17T06:25:00.000-08:00

The late afternoon sky was dotted with kites being piloted by hyped tots who were swept over by a familiar feeling of elation. Children gawk and marvel at the gaudy figures of their makeshift kites, condoning the punishing heat of the sun. The intermittent blast of air currents lift high the kites at dizzying altitudes, notwithstanding their sizes and materials used to make them. To magnify the adrenaline rush, they would place bets on best-performing kites. Chances of welshing is low, though. Those who belong are compelled to join, and those who are not, well, they are bigtime losers. The sunshine is unstinting, and the children, too engrossed. Their meek faces were aglow; they are appreciative to both their handiwork and toil. Newcomers would troop by the field and will follow the others to set yet another flight of kaleidoscopic chimeras of plastic, wood and paper. Up the humid sky, one of the kites has its string snipped by the torrential wind, just on an instant. The lost of control made it slither sideways, its tail flailing on a phrensied manner. Its side joints of tapering sticks made it glide on the air because of momentum, then pausing in inertia while resisting the pull of gravity, until it came to a tangential crash towards the Earth. The other children seemed not to notice, as they continued loosing more thread from their spools.

New Year's Must-haves and Must-do

2008-12-31T21:36:00.000-08:00

Again, I was taken aback by the idea of making my own new year's resolution, because, for as long as my memory serves me good, I have done this crap before and end up having them thrown in the wastebin for the things listed there seem out of the question. Well, I resorted on listing down material things for they gratify me in endless ways, so to speak. Here are plenty of superficial things I want to have and want to do.

- Finish eight novels for the first six months.
- Design more interior renderings for portfolio.
- Put endings to unfinished proses of mine.
- MUST buy Fuji Velvia, at all cost.
- Compile furniture sketches on a sketch pad.
- Save 5000 Php until the end of the year, through my own money.
- Overhaul, if not, arrange all the mess in my room.
- Play lawn tennis again.
- Ransack more manga and drawing materials.
- Request for Dad to buy a handheld lexicon for one more time.
- Maintain Plurk regularly to attain Nirvana.
- Buy a new set of domesticated umang (hermit crab) for my cryogenic, household and academic purposes.
- Persuade mother to have the Yamaha organ be repaired.
- Go scuba diving.
- Reread the Holy Scriptures
- Work as a draftsman
- Borrow the Communication Theories book, digest its contents and absorb its thoughts.
- Buy drafting stencil and template and techpen needle.
- Attend at least one of the Cosplays frequented by Alodia (and see her ecchi-garbed would be a bonus.)
- A human hand lay-figure (if budget permits.)

Now, after some wishful thinking, I wonder how many of these will materialize. A blessed new year ahead, everyone!

Incompetent Teachers

2008-12-16T03:16:00.000-08:00

As my fingers fidget while typing this blog entry, arbitrary ideas were popping in inside my mind. I had typed this because I want to vent out my resentment to those teachers who do nothing but impart nonsense knowledge among their students. Well, in terms of incompetent teachers, our University is never in want. It is a commonplace scenario for students to blacklist, detest and curse ineffective teachers and aver the bluffs and blunders these professors have committed over and over again. I am not generalizing all teachers as totally inept when it comes to teaching, but the smoking gun of their dismal deeds still lingers in the mouths of students. I know a professor who is a professional engineer, but he/she is incapable of teaching well, he/she shirks her duty of inculcating the appropriate knowledge to his/her students. I do not harbor enmity towards that professor, nor grudge to other professions, but this person does things terribly. I daresay, that if you are a licensed professional of the technical field, it doesn't necessarily mean that you can teach well because you are good at your career. Teaching, some people do not know, is a separate vocation to be pursued, another profession to be learned first, and must be borne in heart and in mind with seriousness. It requires dedication and a giver-receiver rapport. I wonder if all these incompetent teachers were lessened on our school, then the number of competent and well-rounded graduates of our University could have multiplied. Enough of wishful thinking.

spam thoughts

2008-11-27T04:21:00.000-08:00

These past few days, I am always annoyed by some intrusive ideas and notions that always come unannounced. I think there is a coven of subversive and mischievous imps scheming at the back of my mind, and they keep on telling me that I can't do things, that I must quit because I'm just wasting precious time, that I can't finish things that I've just started. I couldn't stand it because it is mentally upsetting, and distressing at that. Sigh. I want to get rid of them.

and here I go again

2008-11-15T05:18:00.000-08:00

I am fond of eyeing her furtively without her noticing it. Minutes, or just seconds of short glimpses of her, are a moment of bliss for me. The contours of her face, the color of her sun-kissed skin, the bulging cheeks of hers massed like a profusion of adipose tissues from a fat baby's belly- they all are perfectly complementary. I am fond of eavesdropping to her muffled sighs and childish grunts, and it cannot be helped all the time. I am fond of listening to her quips and anecdotes of life, like an attentive student eager to hark more stories from his teacher. She is standing atop a pedestal, and I am still on the ground, looking up to her like a weary carpenter content on appreciating a finely sculpted statue. However, along the ticking of the clock, I do know that that pedestal will soon collapse and crumble.

omen

2008-11-08T05:33:00.000-08:00

On the evening of All Soul's Day, I was left alone in the house. With nothing to do aside from net surfing, the deepening night called me to cook food for dinner. I went down and I noticed that I forgot to switch on the lights downstairs. The tolerable darkness was illuminated by the lights coming from our neighbor's house so I just rushed down the flight of stairs. Some second elapsed, and I was startled by a terrifying eek-eek sound just behind the stereo shelf on the living room that my hearbeat thudded louder. The freakingly spooky stories through word of mouth and overheard conversations had started to materialize though I always label them implausible. Or was it much worse than I just thought of? The eek-eek sound reverberated again and this time, the unseen entity revealed itself. It was a bird. A black bird intruded on our house. This could mean an omen. A portent. A bad sign. Perhaps, the bird could be possessed by the disquieted spirits of our long-dead relatives. I know nothing. But one thing is for sure, I must make it go away.

I stomped my feet repeatedly to scare the bird but it jumped and tried to flee but to no avail. However, I cannot catch the brash and elusive bird because it moved too fast. My wild-goose chase ended when I cornered it inside our powder room. I quickly closed the door and it took me half an hour to finally seize the bird. I marveled at the bird in my hand because it doesn't look like an ominous creature. It has spotted plummage, and its real color was dark brown; the lower beak is reddish while the legs have long, slender toes. After I took pictures of the pitiful bird with my cellphone, I decided to end the horseplay by securing it firmly again on my hands so for it to not go away and cause another round of mess. I freed it outside and I hurled it expecting that it would take flight, but it didn't. Instead, it landed on the ground and walked briskly going to the looming grayness of the night. I was left there, puzzled and disoriented, wondering what kind of bird it was, I do not know. I came back in the house in deep thought. Before anything else, I went over to our altar and I hurriedly lighted the candles there. Our family always do this in accordance to the rites of the day of the dead, and we never forget to dedicate prayers. Hence, I was filled with hope that the evil presence around, if any, will be warded off.

a close encounter with the third kind

2008-10-21T02:03:00.001-07:00

Before I went home last night, I had a very harrowing experience that I will never forget, an experience worse than seeing strange entities and apparitions of the deceased. Walking on a dimlit alley near TUP along Ayala Blvd, the traffic light going straight of the way going to Taft Avenue turned green. As I saw it, I hurried my steps so that I can cross the opposite street. With all my force, I ran fast and the green light turning yellow was the last thing I saw. An open waterway caught my left foot up to my knee.

The fall made me lunged forward and my left hand hit the concrete road. The result, the concrete scraped the flesh below my knee and a little portion of skin in my palm was peeled off. And before I could get out my foot out of the waterway, the headlights of the passing cars flooded my sight. I mustered some confidence to stand firmly. Good thing is, there were no people from around to see such disgrace. The pain suddenly brought me back to my senses, and the left part of my pants was soaked. It began to smell, and I found out that the waterway is a passage for leachate! C'mon, it's leachate! I did not mind the foul smell, and I hurried to go to the nearest public toilet to wash all the dirt and grunge I have accumulated.

I was disgruntled with what had happened and I started to mentally curse those sloven Pulis Oysters or any of those who are in charge of sanitation in that place for not putting covers in the waterway. But I know in my part that the blame is on me, because I did not look to where I am walking. Again, another maladroit feat was added to my record, but this time, I have learned my lesson.

another semester is coming.

2008-10-14T04:25:00.000-07:00

another sem had finished, and now, I'm halfway through my college course, and I'm nearing to the culmination of my toil and stressed nights. I look forward to not having failed grades, and on this sem break, I want to do many things that I want to cram them in a short time. Is that possible? anyway, this is also a time for introspection and some soul-searching. yada yada yada.

the way it should be

2008-10-05T05:19:00.000-07:00

I finally confirmed one thing. and that is to get out of my stagnant situation, if not perforce, I should have been still trapped on that quicksand... finally, i want to move on, now that the unseen saboteurs revealed themselves. I am now on my way to find this thing that will fill the nothingness inside me. But the question is, can I withstand the test?

sleepless hours

2008-09-23T09:59:00.000-07:00

Today, we are currently staying at the office of Ma'am Arlene's husband in Cityland, Makati City. Hours later and we will prepare ourselves for our flight going to Bacolod City for the 5th Spectrum Seminar concerning campus journalism. We are complete here at the office, minus the nuisance queen Roma who will be conducting the info gathering of every news happening around the school. We will be all absent for three days, and this is no kind of shirking, and we all are pretty anxious missing our classes but the fun you will get not attending the tedious classes and listening to the tedious professors will be multiplied. At the minute, three computers were still being used by us, and I do know that Ma'am Arlene will get a hypertension if she would know that we are only squandering our time surfing the net rather than sleeping. Actually all the girls are already asleep now nearing to some REM, while the boys are at the peak of their stamina doing anything under the moon.

another missed shot

2008-09-06T04:51:00.000-07:00

once again....

I failed.

I failed to do some things I ought to do and I let the opportunity to slip away.

Result? Another missed shot. Another debacle on the list. I thought all the way I'm gaining some points, but they are just petty, useless perks I cannot use. I thought I'm on the lead, past the other unknown forces.

and now,

she was gone.

the glaring traces were left,
but I dare not to follow.

depresyon

2008-08-24T21:06:00.001-07:00

aagh....mag-isa lang ako sa bahay ngayon, mag-dadalawang araw na...nakaka-depress, sobra. wala akong makausap kung hindi ang aking sarili at ang tatlong aso namin....kung anu-ano na ang naiisip ko, at kung anu-ano na rin ang naririnig ko...may mga hindi mo mawaring tunog at kung anu-ano, at kung sa multo nga yon, wala namang may lakas ng loob magpakita. mahirap pa lang mag-isa, pero masaya din naman...tahimik ang kapaligiran at puede ka pang mag-contemplate sa mga nangyayari (yun eh kung may oras pa ako). Walang maingay, walang sumisigaw, walang nang-uutos, pag-mamayari ko ang buong bahay namin. madaming pagkain sa ref, solo ko ang computer sa buong magdamag, puede akong lumabas-masok ng bahay namin. Ngayon lang siguro ito, maya-maya lang, iingay na ulit, hindi ko na magagamit ang computer, kailangan ko nang matulog ng maaga, at mauubos na ang pagkain sa ref. medyo sayang din ang ibang oras ko kasi andami ko pang mga bagay na ginagawa na wala namang katuturan. mahirap talagang mag-isa. pero siguro bukas, hindi na...

nang maging pula ang tubig sa estero de balete

2008-08-17T02:34:00.000-07:00

Marami ang nagulat, nagtaka at napataas ang kilay ng halos maging pula ang tubig sa estero de balete ng mga tanghali ng Huwebes ng nakaraang linggo. Sabi ng mga estudyanteng dumadaan, baka daw may menstruation yung estero, sabi naman ng ibang estudyante algal bloom daw, kaya red tide, at yung iba naman inisip na lang na siguro may kung sinong tanga na nagisip na magiging pula ba yung tubig kapag tinapunan ng pulang pintura? Ako naman, inisip ko lang na sign na yun ng doomsday. Mga kalahating minuto ang lumipas at bumagsak ang napakalakas na ulan at hindi na natuloy ang aming buong klase sa pagpunta sa Payatas- kaya ayun at wala kaming nagawa kundi maghintay na lang na tumila ang ulan. Nang mga bandang hapon na, may narinig akong estudyante na nagsabi, "Ano ba yan, kako ba i-suspend na nila yung klase,yung ibang school kaya wala nang klase." "Tanga ka ba, hindi sinususpend ng maaga ang klase dito, hinihintay pa nilang maubos yung pagkain sa canteen," sagot naman sa kanya ng kasama nya. Medyo malayo na sila kaya hindi ko na narinig ang mga sunod na sinabi nila. Medyo dumidilim na at malakas pa rin ang ulan, at hindi na makauwi ang ibang mga estudyante. May mga bali-balita na hanggang tuhod na raw ang taas ng tubig sa may Kalaw, Taft, Ayala Blvd at SM Manila, at marami nang na-stranded. Mahaba na rin daw ang pila sa LRT. Ha! Sabi ko na nga ba't malapit na ang katapusan ng mundo. Dahil walang magawa ay naisip ko na pumunta ng main library nang makasalubong ko ang isa kong kaklase. "Uy, nag-aral ka na ba? May prelim exam pa tayo bukas sa Strength of Materials," bigla nyang bungad sa akin. "Oo nga pala, ano. Sige, punta muna akong lib at mag-aaral pa ako," sumagot ako ng may halong pagka-dismaya. Habang nagpatuloy ako sa paglalakad ay hindi ko naiwasang mapabuntong-hininga. Napakagaling ko talaga at tama ang kutob ko, doomsday na nga bukas.

an encounter

2008-07-19T08:07:00.000-07:00

july 18,2008

so far, this day could be included on my own roster of happiest days of my mundane existence. i am not really used to classifying days by what had happened, but today is only peculiarly special. a short, intimate distance to the one you like, and a worthwhile, getting-to-know-each-other talk as a perk will do. i could not help but be flustered by a comely, adolescent lady a few centimeters away from me, while unknowingly sniffing copious quantity of some compatible pheromones coming from her. an internal meltdown ensued, as if my organs desisted from functioning, or the heavens did crumble into obliteration as the Earth imploded. I might fall for her for the nonce, yes, I might probably. Or did I already? her expressive eyes speak of fervent ardor and affectionate warmth I myself do not know. I am ensnared and enthralled on a superb yet delicate intricacy of nature's law- the law of attraction. yes, indeed it was, and i have the right to impute this selfish sentiment to nature, but I will never do it, and I will never be indignant and rueful for being a victim. I want to pursue the path, I want to suffer the inevitable outcomes, i want to enjoy the temporal glee of love, I want her. I like her.

deliverance from evil

2008-07-05T07:38:00.000-07:00

The realm of religion had already surmounted human mind for almost thousands of years, incarcerating freedom of thought, learning and philosophy on a pressurized, airtight vessel of pandemonium and faith. Every denomination and sect, all goading their own flock of gullible sheep, can be compared to a herd of bloated hogs wallowing and bathing on a puddle of squalid mud. The only consolation promised to mankind is a definite salvation carried out by an all-knowing, almighty being called God. He, who existed before the creation of beginning, and will exist until the end of sempiternal eons, was very long revered by man and celebrated by thousands of truth seekers.

As we open our eyes to see and relish the marvels of the world, religion quickly abducted us, reared us on an absolute and compassionate world, and spared us from the wicked fangs of sinfulness and immorality. And as we grow up, we will discover that we were breastfed with black, noxious milk that rendered us as helpless and hapless creatures blinded by futile faith and folly.

Wise men and scholars proved religion’s efficiency and influence and they attached it to erudition, wisdom, infallible dogmas and creation of life. Indeed, Man was drawn on a reckless journey of religion for he was in profound desire to know the meaning of life. Apostasies, iconoclasm, erroneous doctrines and fanaticism ensued, caused nuances and raised a portion of hell to intimidate people from all walks of life. These outlandish revelations, insanity and dubious teachings were all pinpointed to highfalutin church demagogues who act as if they already met God face to face. The corollary: an influx of self-proclaimed prophets, ecstatic saints, angels and spiritualists inundated the hallowed limelight. Donning their pretentious white robes, they pretend to be as servants of truth, but in fact they are ravenous wolves starving for obscenity and authority, they are sent to mislead and to kindle chaos, confusion and discontentment.

If we try to look at it on a lighter way, religion is undeniably a result of man’s questioning nature and skepticism. He wanted to distinguish God above the rest. Man wanted to touch God’s impalpable face. Man wanted a panacea— total redemption. But still, it took him ages to discern God’s ulterior motives but to no avail.

Our valorous undertaking to unravel the arcane rationale of existence and death placed us on a vantage point where we can see everything. But our own sights were opaquely obstructed that we end up feeblish and spiritually incapacitated. Whether we like it or not, all religious precepts already impressed on our narrow minds will survive and improve, generation after generation and until everyone will question again the authenticity of life and God. Whoever said that our world would be better off without religion must be having good night sleeps.

Sad to say, we are the unsuspecting performers on a fierce role-playing game called religion, bashing and smashing each others’ heads asunder, with God as the unseen spectator applauding our self-induced lunacies on a muffled thunderclap.

reality redefined

2008-06-23T06:13:00.000-07:00

Our individual grasp of reality is so much uncertain so as to our perception of life. we are outrightly affixed to the concept of piercing a big hole to reality's winding passageway just to escape the harshness of life we cannot contain. we feel the need to find another dimension, impregnable though it may seem, where no one can touch us, whip us, nor molest us not until the plans we kept for so long are all ruined. we defiantly aim to find this alternate world, so our inner rages might subside with ease, so that we will resurface again armed with temporary hope and fidelity. but this world we are claiming was only fabricated by our minds, it is a non-existing dimension, a fictitious dreamland, an abysmal void made from our frustrations and fears that we unleashed as we fled trembling away and weeping.

Our constructed reality is fraught with delusions and dilemma, and we are afraid to know the real definition of the word reality because we are obliged to face the truth, to accept the bitter consequences. however, we cannot really see the bottom line for we already obscured the bright side without any intention of doing so. we are afraid to alight on our escapist's voyage, because we don't know how to resolve the troubles we left behind us. sadly, we can't realize by ourselves that dodging all the imbroglio of our actual existence won't make us any better, we forget that solving our conflicts will make us determined and polished individuals ready to face adventures, difficulties, humiliation and truth. negating the fact of reality and actuality will just make us shrivel with disgrace, and by ages we'll realize that we're making fun of ourselves, just a creature who know nothing but to turn his back away from the real world and cower in fear.

manifestation of love

2008-06-22T07:47:00.000-07:00

it's really nice to have someone who admires you that much, who wants to watch the sun set over the horizon together with you, who are used to see you on your peculiarly odd hairdo, who likes every tidbit of what you are. Yes, the assurance of being loved by someone is worth the pain and faith, despite the crumbling of different universes and galaxies, and the unexplained sort of passion that ennobles the very word itself- love. pure and eternal as it could be. we are fed up with the same old songs of flocks of prince charming and damsel in distress, which is which, who is who and what-could-have-been scenario that will all trivially conclude on an overrated sweet, happy ending. the idea is some sort of quixotic and irrelevant, but we enjoy on the imaginative, fantastic course it delivers us. we choose to embark on a spur-of-the-moment journey to discover what is incomplete and what is missing on ourselves, and end up totally exhausted and grief-stricken, only to find out that apparently, no one was there to welcome us, not even a single shadow of a phantasmal creature. We spend most of our precious time to seek that someone who would willingly offer us the radiant moon and the stars, the one who will carry us on their backs to swim across a tormenting, frigid ocean, the one who will stay with us on our sinful exile on Earth. The movies, the books, the media, the society- they already persuaded us that we are in dire need of a partner, our other half, in order for us to survive, to face the multitextured face of life's wickedness, to experience the prescient yet agonizing sentiments that are entrenched inside us. sardonic as it may seem, we will be freed at the time when we already have this someone who are likely to rot and decay together with us. we will be freed by the cuffs of enslavement from human temptation and emotion, time will dissipate into mere vapors, faraway planets will implode to supernovas, as two hearts will turn one. divine. a divine union of two destined creations, sharing the most passionate dreams- candlelit dinners, stargazing while lying on the grass, frolic in the rain, romantic classics, a thrilling roller-coaster ride. God had already predestined and thoughfully set up a complex logistics of all the things. and He cunningly left His proposition to us by finding our pair, whom without them we cannot live life in full and outlast another day. it's really nice to have someone, someone whom you can share a cup of unsweet coffee and enjoy the chilling breeze of the morning...

the prodigy

2008-06-14T05:19:00.000-07:00

When I was a grade-schooler sicko, I used to have a vast circle of playmates who know nothing but to play and play and play after the tedious class hours. We would always claim our school's wide open field as our own and we will do our weekday rituals and frolicsome escapades in the unbounded terrain. These friends, I must say, is not even my classmates but I enjoyed their company that much. I call them by funny names, and so are they. I am known by silly names like Tutong, Flashlight, Lens, Onse, Uling and the list goes on. I also gave them the weirdest names they cannot fathom like Aardvark, Silicon, Telon, Baul, Screwdriver, Rubberducky, and so on. Because of my childish passivity that days, i was always bullied by the big guys (only during the classhours) and I never experienced that tyrannic, omniscient feeling of bullying a creature lower than your level. But i don't mind these tormentors burdening me with their homeworks and formal writing notes, because I enjoy doing their works (i still don't know why.) Back to calling my playmates with absurd names, I also labeled my siblings with offending names related to their behavior and appearance. I used to call my big brother La Paz Batchoy, Galis, Boyba, Bob Uy, Peklaters, and my little sister Jaya, Igorot, Marlin, Bobot. That childish manners of mine already vanished a decade ago, but nowadays it is my sarcastic remarks that offend people, and i find it hard to become less tactless. I remembered a college friend who called me an Autistic, and I extracted my vengeance by calling her an Obese-tic (what i am insinuating is obvious.) I always notice flaws and imperfections, I always give harsh critique, but it is okay for me to be given with not-so-good comments and remarks, I don't mind. Eventually, I learned that keeping my mouth shut will absolutely prevent further troubles and I always try to circumvent giving non-sense opinions so that I could feel secure and firm. Expectantly, I am looking forward to gradually shed off these offensive manners, and I believe that the path going to maturity is full of obstacles and tests. Just for now, I am an immature yet intrepid creature searching for the real definition of life...

a break-up story

2008-06-09T03:10:00.000-07:00

(Habang kumakain tayo sa paborito nating student canteen, may isang pulutong ng naghuhuramentadong langaw ang nagsidapuan sa ulam na ating pinagsasaluhan)

Ano ba yan, nakakaasar! Bakit ba andaming langaw ngayon!!

Tanga ka ba? panahon kaya ng mangga!!

Eh, ano kinalaman nun sa pagdami nila? Anong sense?

Ewan ko, basta kapag maraming langaw, panahon na ng mangga!

Ah, ganun ba..Hmmm...saan nga bang probinsya yung maraming mangga?

Sa Bukidnon yun. Tanga ka talaga, yun lang, di mo alam...

Sorry ha! I'm not imperfect kasi eh!!!

Tanga, so you mean you are perfect?? Mali-mali pa grammar mo! Umayos ka nga!!!

Bakit, anung mali sa sinabi ko??

Two negatives make a positive! tanga! Parang Math din yan!

Ano?

Ewan ko sa 'yo, basta isa lang ang sigurado ko..tanga ka talaga!!

Ansakit mo namang magsalita..

Hindi kasi ako tangang tulad mo..ewan ko ba kung bakit naging tayo, ako matalino...ikaw tanga...

Bakit ba parati kang ganyan, lagi mo na lang akong inaaway. Kung ayaw mo na sa akin, edi mag-split na lang tayo.

Hoy, kung magsalita ka parang ako yung patay na patay sa 'yo dati, ha!! Sino ba yung mukhang tanga na buntot ng buntot sa akin dati, na ayaw akong tantanan at napakakulit na hingi ng hingi ng cellphone number kahit maling number naman yung binibigay ko, at sobrang obsessed sa akin pati hanggang bahay eh sinusundan ako?

Ano 'to, sumbatan?! Oh, eh sino naman dyan yung akala mo eh may Swiss Bank account sa akin na halos lahat ng gusto nyang bilhin eh binibili ko kahit maubos na ang allowance ko na pang-isang buwan? Na halos magkanda-pili-pilipit na yung katawan sa katuturo ng mga bagay na maganda sa paningin na gustong mapasakanya, at ngangalngal kapag di ko na mabili???

Eh sino naman yung tanga na nagpapatulong sa akin sa thesis work nya, sinu yung tangang yun na subject-verb agreement lang eh halos isang buwan bago nya matutunan, at sinu yung tangang yun na hindi alam ang Newton's Law of Action Reaction at Law of Diminishing Returns??

Kung magsalita ka, akala mo nag-uumapaw ka sa katalinuhan! Eh, sino naman yung tangang nahuli ng pulis na nakikipag-anuhan doon sa dati nyang boyfriend na de-sasakyan sa isang public parking?? At ikinalat pa nga sa internet yung mga pics nila, sobrang nakakahiya!!

Hoy, lalaking tanga. Bawiin mo yang mga sinasabi mo...Kung gusto mong makipaghiwalay, Ok fine! Kung sa tingin mong maghahanap pa ako ng katulad mo, pwes, you are totally mistaken! Hindi bagay ang isang tulad ko na mentally at physically fit sa isang sociopathic misfit na tulad mo!!!

Ha! Komedyante ka pala eh, ang galing mong magpatawa! At sa tingin mo naman, maghahanap rin ako ng katulad mo?? Get lost!

BLAGGG!!!!

(Isang malaking shoulder bag ang tumama sa aking mukha, at ng pag-lingon ko ay naglaho ka na...Habang pinagpipyestahan naman ng buong lugod ng mga langaw ang ulam na kanina lamang ay masaya nating pinagsasaluhan)

random thought

2008-06-08T21:28:00.000-07:00

Isn't it nice, that at the end of the day, you'll realize that your very existence is the proximate cause of someone's happiness and contentment in life?

Isn't it nice to know, that before you close your eyes to sleep, you'll be remembered by someone special who's wishing to be there beside you at the very moment?

Isn't it nice, that when you wake up, you have an assurance that you will still be loved by the people who care for you?

Isn't it nice to know, that even if your life is a big blunder, there's this someone who will love you still despite the things you'd done in the past?

Isn't it nice?

philosophical ranting

2008-06-07T06:37:00.001-07:00

In philosophic reality, we all are branches of a huge, colossal tree sharing a single sequoia-sized trunk, being nurtured and supported by myriads of humble roots. This gigantic tree speaks of interconnectedness, enigmas and straight circles of absolute comprehension. The macrocosmic marvels and awe-inspiring phenomena that are tied to human stupidity and Godly insights are just mere spoilers of the unfathomable mysteries that cause us to grope in curiosity and conceit. We all are given with the gift of reasoning and fair judgment, yet in some extent we are always losing the big picture, always adhering to the senseless rudiments that in no way can make us neither cleverer nor slier. Of all the magnificent philosophy available for human understanding, we would rather patronize the histrionic tear-jerker, rather than the sensible side of the coin.

We are too much addicted to the delusional drama, the illusory encounter with the unknown, even hooked to the dumbest, cheap puppet shows life could offer. Life is indomitably the cruellest detractor who is running after us on an infinite loop, always ready with confounding surprises and extemporaneous assaults. Despite our so-called trepidation and valiant odysseys, it is us who are always tricked and double-crossed because of our vulnerable disposition—we are prone to the eviscerating sentiments and passion-appealing factors of life-death cycles, symbiotic processes and the exhilarating sight of human downfall.

As we are much subjected to fatuousness and mutual haranguing, the conceptualization of a-little-less-than-perfect philosophy is insofar experiencing fragmentation due to opinionated arrogance of entities claiming for the right answer, the right path, the right way of living. If you cannot conform to the teachings of their incalculable wisdom, you will be accused of unorthodoxy and blaspheming inherited traditions or you will be labelled as a despicable heretic and will be burned at stake because of intellectual imprudence.

In reality, we all are branches of a huge, colossal tree, sharing the singularity of shallowness and acerbic wit of human distinctiveness we all are sharing the same, loathsome trunk of degraded philosophy derived from learned and unlearned men; we all are sharing the same poisonous nutrients already imbibed on our futile, capricious minds.

kitsch of the generation x

2008-06-06T18:38:00.000-07:00

Nowadays, the unfettered acceptance of technology and its affiliated modernization already brought a dramatic transition and immeasurable breakthroughs. The things that are already influenced by technology are all bound to progress and further exploration of untapped knowledge is always at hand. But all things in life has distinctly negative ethical paradigm, and I am afraid of the fact that it will hamstring the bare essentials of cognition and understanding (but not at all). Our country is already beset with this negativity I am talking about, take for example the eminence of cellular phones and the internet as a form of communication. Youth these days were too much hooked on the vast gossamer of social and cyber networks and virtual microcosms, the appealing genre of modern-age junks, the deviation from the social, philosophical and intellectual norms. The inveterate usage of short-cut words, the debauched sentence structures, compositions and grammar, the grave and deliberate misspellings, the unintelligible vernacular, - they all consider these as appealing, appropriate and naturally all right, rather than mawkish and incomprehensible. The sense of someone's thought is sometimes lost due to the indiscriminate way of expressing it. There's really nothing wrong how tacky and insubstantial someone's expression is if it is the only way he could only express it, but the problem is that he conformed to the showy, nonsensical kitsch rather than delivering it with practicality and conventionalism.

-,.:;"deEh'kwickque'braUwn'focks'jumpZz'uber'deeh'LaZzie'dawgG.. (+_^)

nang minsang mag-landing ang mga UFO sa earth...

2008-06-04T17:47:00.000-07:00

Andami na ngang nagbago...nakakamangha, nakakaasar, nakakaaliw, nakakalungkot. Kung gaano karaming yelo na ang natunaw sa north pole at kung ano nga ba ang majority ng mga basurang itinatapon sa dagat ay hindi ko alam, at hinding hindi ko na malalaman pa dahil wala naman talaga akong balak alamin. Kung ilang mangkok na ng kanin na ang nakain ko at ilang sachet na ng shampoo ang naubos ko simula ng huli kong sinabi na, "sana, lumaki na ako. gusto ko nang tumanda!" ay hindi ko alam, at hinding hindi ko na malalaman pa dahil wala naman akong balak alamin. Pero wala akong maiisip na magandang dahilan para hindi balikan ang nakaraan dahil lubhang napakasayang lasap-lasapin at namnamin yung mga pagkakataon na hindi mo na pwedeng balikan in reality, (except kung meron kang time machine at marunong kang um-access sa mga wormhole). Naalala ko yung batang version ko, na uhugin at gusgusin at walang pakialam kung bakit bughaw ang langit, na mahilig maglaro ng kung anu-ano. May mga bagay talaga at pagkakataon na hindi natin maiiwasan pa at kailangan na lang nating tanggapin..., Yung mga dati kong kalaro, at mga kaklase sa grade-school, andami na ring nagbago- may mga nag-drop-out na at ayaw ng pumasok, yung iba naman, nagtrabaho na, may lumisan ng maaga, may naging teenage moomy at daddy, naging adik, delingkwente, nag-abroad, nagpalit ng sexual orientation at may mga tatlo-tatlo na ang friendster account. Ansaya-saya talagang balikan ang nakaraan, lalo na yung panahon ng ating kamusmusan kung kelan punung-puno tayo ng mga ambisyon, at ang gustung-gusto lang nating gawin ay mag-hagaran upo maghapon, hanggang mag-sawa at mapagod.
May isang guro na nagtanong sa kanyang estudyante, "ano ang gusto mo paglaki mo?" , ang sagot naman ng estudyante, "Teacher po!" "Bakit?" tanong ng guro. "kasi gusto ko pong gamutin yung lola ko na may amoebiasis."

ang lakas mo sa globe (?)

2008-05-07T02:42:00.001-07:00

Nandito na ang pinaka-bagong (in a layman's term, hindi pa bilasa) serbisyo ng nakakaburaot na Globe Telecoms, ang ETXT20. So, ano ang pinagkaiba nito sa ibang serbisyo na available pa rin sa mga subscriber? wala lang, dahil mahigpit parin ang competition nila sa Smart and Sun, pakapalan na ng mukha para lang matuwa ang mga consumers (kahit in fact, napapakunot ang noo dahil hindi na nila makayanan ang pseudo-inflation at peso depreciation) at para masabi lang na, uy may bago!!. Sabi ng iba kong kakilala, kapag naka-Globe ka, mayaman ka! (hindi ko alam kung matatawag ba iyong compliment, ewan) pero natutuwa naman ako dahil halos medyo(hindi naman lahat) ng kakilala ko eh naka-Globe, kaya hindi ko ma-i-give-up ang sim ko and switch to other reasonable, pocket-friendly service...Dahil hindi catchy at hindi nakakatuwa (para sa akin) ang ibang services ng Globe, ay isinasantabi ko na lang ang mga potential nila (kung meron man) tulad ng sa Sulitxt na kailangan mo pang mag-aksaya ng piso para lang malaman kung ilan na lang ang balance mo...sa aking palagay, dahil panget na at napaka -impertinente na ng marketing ng Globe at sabihin na nating dahil sa kanilang avaricious greed (tautology? hehe), I can foresee na maybe ten years from now ay masasapawan na ang paramount prestige ng Globe na dulot naman talaga ng kanilang mga loyal subscribers, at masusungkit ito ng mga rival companies na hanggang ngayon ay medyo nakadikit pa sa lupa ang mga paa...

PS. alam nio ba pwede kayong mag-unli kahit wala kayong balance na natira, o di kaya 50 cents na lang ang regular load nio? (basta may certain amount ka pa rin na gustong i-unli..e.g. 20, 40, 80) ganyan ka-buwaya ang Globe...

rainy day blues

2008-05-06T22:40:00.000-07:00

The previous rain shower brought fuzz once again. Not only that it made a clamorous sound and produced a tremendous liquid amount (which I can conclude, at its degree, low areas would be left flooded on an instant.) but it also wrecked the gutter of our auxiliary kitchen. The result, a dramatic water cataract with an uncontrolled water flux. I can't help but remember last year's super-typhoon Milenyo as it unmercifully bashed and banged the G.I. roof of our draft kitchen, (or the dirty kitchen, if you wish to call it) and left other houses within a mile radius all with the same pitiable fate. Good thing, my idea of a protective canopy along the alley of our house worked as a deterrent to the onslaught of rain-showers, and the unconventional trapal we used to have was supplanted. My father said that if only I have graduated a couple of years ago, I could have designed and planned our new house because he couldn't stand some flaws on the design (which in fact is more flawed than he can see.) What I'm trying to insinuate here was the strength of houses and structures, and all the things my architect-professors inculcated on our minds is the architectural quintessence- aesthetics, purpose and strength. As I see my self practicing my chosen profession years from now, I can guarantee superiority on strength of materials as it is necessarily the rudiment of a good building, and by being reminded that oxidized gutters must be replaced.

"The House is a Machine to Live in..."

-Le Corbusier

earth hour

2008-05-05T17:22:00.001-07:00

8:30 pm 29/03/08

I just received a forwarded message saying that everyone must have their contribution for allaying the looming crisis of our Mother Earth by turning off the lights for about an hour (8:00 to 9:00 pm). The text said that everyone must cooperate and if I care I must forward it to others. I thought it was the same, nonsense chain messages passed everyday, so I deleted it after a short musing. Well, what's wrong about turning the lights off for an hour for the sake of Mother Earth? I don't know. After I ate my dinner alone, I opened the TV and a flash report headline startled me: "Prime Cities in World Join Energy Conservation on Earth Hour." It hits home, and I felt a bothering apathy embracing me. It's as if I am stoking a great fire. The video focused on how leading cities spearhead a small event for a future vicissitude. Rampant gasoline-combustion and spendthrift use of power and energy were main causes of Global Warming. Though Kyoto Protocol was promulgated to reduce factors affecting the Global Warming, many people were still indifferent at this issue. And I'll not hesitate to count myself as one of them. As a student, I am aware on the alleged consequences of this phenomenon. Sustainable environment and planning were endorsed as an efficient alternative of living, passive cooling techniques were revived and cutting-edge discoveries about biofuels and substitutes were being debated. Along with the Earth's slow-paced degeneration, Global Warming's horrible effects serve as an eye-opener to thousands of concerned people, and many were enlightened to act wisely and save our planet just in the nick of time. Think about it. I'm not one of them, but I'll try observing first and have enough knowledge; I will act very soon, like others, to salvage our very own planet.

spywares and cheeseburger

2008-05-05T06:59:00.000-07:00

My sleeping pattern giddiness vanished on an instant when I already faced the computer. The usual sites I visit were fine then, but not until an influx of self-activating pop-ups and self-navigating browsers flooded my screen, one of them says: the system has detected a number of active spyware applications that may impact the performance of your computer. They are claiming that my computer is infected with different viruses, spywares and the like and it needs an immediate remedy. soon after, homepages of anti-virus advertisements inundated my computer-- professional malware programs, XP antivirus, down-loadable security soft-wares and free trial antispywares. I tried to install all of them but all of them are resetting, and the dialog balloon on my task bar shows warning messages and critical level alerts. I'm now on a panicky mood. A Windows XP affiliate type of program activated at last, and it started scanning my computer for threats. It verified 197 infections, and they were spyware, adware, trojan, worm, rogue and dialer type of malware. They are of various forms and nature but serves only one purpose- the obliteration of your computer files and privacy. The dialog balloon then informs me of a backdoor created by the spywares, and that the performance of my computer slowed by 40 %. My fingers were fumbling for the letters on the keyboard just to get rid of the unnecessary programs, and I felt a sense of grief that it will be my computer's last day, so I exited all the web-pages and turned off the computer...'twas my last resort, and alas, my brother who has the technical skills and computer proficiency came at home. I just left him after telling the entire scene, and after some minutes, he told me everything was fine, I almost forgot to breathe. Ah, it was a close one.

what's with the cheeseburger?

nah, nothing =b

friendship is abstract

2008-05-05T06:56:00.000-07:00

Three months left and the semester will be finally over. business matters, academics, school life will end on an instant. Same as to relationships of my friends who suffer from disputes and misunderstandings. I couldn't deny how close they are to each other, but there's no way we can reconcile two or more clashing entities. Some just left, some ceased caring and some want change. a vicious circle they don't want to consider and reckon. the causes vary from case to case, and yes, it was an open-and-shut case- they were finally over. not unless one of them will surrender his or her ego and grovel in submission just to be forgiven and be appreciated. one's parapraxis could reveal something, either its deliberate or really a slip, friends will be friends. friendship will remain indecipherable like the geometric shapes and curves of a cubist opus. or even a nonsensical anagram of an unsolved puzzle. Friendship is abstract, it is the consolidation of individual passion and dreams, of shared purposes in life. it's up to you if you want to lose one, especially someone who became a part of you...

the strand of hair

2008-05-04T04:15:00.000-07:00

12/29/07

It was a bash, two days before the New Year’s eve, and yes, it was a celebration indeed, but done in advance, and my mother’s friends decided to do it in our house. They brought variety of victuals and viands, and started the fun with eating sessions. The smorgasbord was full of palatable dishes and I do not want to miss the chance to taste them all.
Sitting at the couch on our living room after getting my share, and reveling on the feast of taste, while swigging and salivating on a glass of soda, I turned on the TV to watch, browsing for channels that offers nonsense shows.
‘Oh my God!’ I heard one of my friend who already joined me at the opposite couch, who was a daughter of my mother’s friend, screamed while scrutinizing her plate like a gynecologist, with her fork as a scalpel and the spoon as a spatula.
‘What? What’s your problem?’ I asked instantly.
‘Look at this, on my plate!’
There she was eating a plate of adobo, embutido, and seafood Pancit Malabon, topped with crunchy, cracked chicharon, mussels, shrimps, sliced hard-boiled eggs and a copious quantity of brown garlic.
‘What? What’s in there?’
‘A hair!’
‘A hair?
‘Yes! A hair, and it’s not an ordinary hair.’
For as long as I know, a female shed off hair strands from her head more than a male and that is the reason why every meal your mother might prepared have hair strands as an extra ingredient. But I think it’s disgusting to find a hair strand when you bought the food, and you found it unclean, right?
‘Well, its alright, you probably are not alone to encounter a strand of hair in the plate you are eating.’
‘It was…It was a pubic hair!’
‘What? A cubic hair?’ I replied to her and replaced the word I heard from her that I think my mind had just only fabricated.
‘Look at my plate, a pubic hair.’
Thank goodness, I heard it right, and on what she had said, I found my self quite reluctant to take her proposition, but my curiosity is stronger that I dared look at it. On her plate, she pointed a strand of hair-it was kinky, and jet-black; it was flanked by a cartilage of a half-eaten chicken breast and a foil scrap of embutido.
‘I think it’s not. How sure are you?’
‘Yes, it was! And it’s disgusting! I want to puke out what I’ve eaten. I need an emetic!’
I think she was exaggerating it, and isn’t it too gross to find out a hair strand coming from someone’s crotch on the food you are eating?
This friend of mine, with her stomach starting to flurry, hurriedly ascended to the stairs leading to the rooftop where the celebration is happening. I didn’t follow her, and I left my meal unfinished, reckoning the possibilities that it could be what she says, or it could be not. I haven’t a clue.
She then descended as fast as she can, with another set of different meal and I asked her. ‘Did they react violently? What did they say?’
‘Curse them, they don’t believe me!’
‘Why then?’
‘They say it some kind of came from the mussels, you know, and they insist.’
‘Oh, so I see…the hair is not what you think it is.’
‘Oh, whatever! Look at the strand of hair, I don’t think it really came from a mussel meat. I know its dirty! ’
‘Okay, no one questions you here, just eat.’ I concluded her litany and increased the volume of the TV.

Now I remember. My teeth used to be meshed with those kinky hairs of cooked, stewed fresh mussels. These species of mollusks were harvested on submerged bamboo poles on the sea and they proliferate fast, I wonder how they mate.
And I really wonder how people think- how they react, how they seem so naïve and innocuous in some situations, or, are they only just showing some blatant hypocrisy or just faking it? Like those conservative and conformist parents who will put their sweaty hands on their children’s faces if they are watching a TV show or a movie, when a stimulating yet disturbing scene initiates. Like those people who make another meaning on words or even circumstances that they encounter, assuming things as double-entendre. Like those insecure cranks who are misjudging other people by their sentiments, ways of living, convictions and mannerisms.
I can’t blame them, so are our eyes- who are proven to fluctuate images they see, giving us two or possible figures that they have analyzed. Well, sometimes, my eyes dupe me, and I can be easily deceived by veneers and appearances, the outer wrapping. And I am certainly sure that the majority of world’s populace experiences the same. But effortlessly, we can avoid such things to happen. Do you know how it is done? It is simple, just dive and go explore beyond the surface.

subconscious

2008-05-04T00:22:00.000-07:00

Subconscious

The coexistence of heart and mind:
Is it a preposterous presumption?
Fall like a fool, and generate philosophies
Attraction or infatuation, all leads to frustration
Learn self-pity, don’t lose grip or just let go
It all conclude on a foiled, thwarted love
Sentimental, detrimental, full of apathy
There’s never been a coexistence of heart and mind..

[0h my, the poem still sounds bitter though I am not trying to intend anything..]

Daisy

2008-05-04T00:19:00.000-07:00

[This poem was written in retaliation from an unexpected rejection...]

She’s no ordinary blossom,
A splendiferous creation, devoid of any unchaste elements
Sown on a barren, infertile terrain of displeased men,
Capture our eyes, poach our bestiality, and boil our bloods.
Beguile us, inveigle us on
your stamen,
your pistil,
your stigma,
deep,
deep
down
where your
sweetest nectar
lies pristine and untainted.

Let us savour your impalpable scent,
your superficial splendour,
your petals of abominable charm.

Time will come and you will wilt,
As roses wither into infernal debris.
Your ephemeral glory will expire,
The full moon will wane, and so you will...

fated to a sweet reunion

2008-05-02T22:03:00.000-07:00

The series of inimical depressions and political publicity episodes have pillaged and bombarded the daily scenes, almost tantamount (or greater) to the tension of primetime melodramas, proving yet another decadent impression that the whole world will never forget. but I don't care, even the rice supply is running out, the prices of commodities are on a frantic rise, or the world needs to act at the eleventh hour of Mother Earth's sluggish self-destruction. I will just remain apathetic towards these things that happen almost everyday. the dramatic legislation and the government's jurisdiction is such a fatuous attempt towards national unity, and their trite spiels and thespian skills they had acquired on politics are blatant proof of their nugatory purpose.

Blame-laying, finger-pointing, opinionated ideas and betrayal seemed like a horseplay the whole nation needs to be used to. Out of their vested interests, the ordinary people can do nothing but wait for the slightest change they can offer. whatever the pressing national issues our country has to face starkly, they will surely undermine the integrity and virtues our great, great ancestors and heroes had died for. Do we want these things to be seen by our posterity and the next generations? don't we want to put an end on these insufferable ordeals so that we can move on and progress?

I want to act and have my contribution, but there seems to be a lot of road blocks and bottlenecks I need to pass first. I want change, but that thing just exists on my mind. There's a bunch of things I needed to do, I have priorities and involvement for a total national change seems far-fetched. There are still examinations, projects, plates and subjects I need to pass. I don't deserve another crease on my forehead because of political nuisances. just by now, I am fated to a sweet reunion with old highschool chums and bums. I missed them a lot. Damn it.