 | 3-28-09 | Mar 29, '09 2:59 PM
for everyone |
As I cast my thoughts out into the long, dark, frigid night;
I heave a wistful sigh, and look out into that night.
I hope against hope for some sort of promise.
And well, hope.
I hope that one day, this world would be better for my daughter,
and my daughter's daughter.
I hope that when they cast their thoughts out into the night,
the wind will carry with it -- the answers to their questions.
 My friend Pia made this. ha-ha
when I was four I knew I was already peculiar. I preferred pavarotti over everybody else's Nirvana and peter cetera.
I turned six and became a rockstar: with every microphone I found, I thought it was my obligation to sing the four non blondes "what's up" to every captive audience: didnt matter if it was 9 or 10 or thousands of them. I had to tell them that ultimately we were all just trying to get up that great big hill of hope for a freakin destination. To this day, I havent stopped singing that song, my offspring falls asleep to that song.
Turned 10 and and fell in love with Neil Sedaka, he did afterall, lock himself up in an apartment in NYC with carole king and all the toher great artists of their time just to write songs. what history.
15 was a time for John mayer, the beatles , barenaked ladies and Carly simon. they became my habits, my bedfellows.
18 i found myself listening to maroon five's out is through over and over and over and over again/
It seems that I;ve gone somewhat mainstream. that saddens me. but its true.
Just opening up here. hoping someone, somewhere out there can relate.
She stares up to the heavens and points with her tiny fingers, the bright blue twinkling lights.
She tries to tell me elaborate stories through babbles and coos, and at that point I tell myself- I wish this could last forever.
But it won't, one day stars won't be as magical, for you shall have already outshone all the rest.
And I, forever your fan - will bask under the light of your brilliance.
You don't belong here,
your hair and your skin is different from
the world you stepped into.
Your ideals suggest that the world
is much bigger than a small town
life, everyone's used to.
Your heart aches for real happiness-
and yet you smile.
You don't belong here,
walking sophisticate -
breathing aristocrat.
The world used to be yours for the taking,
and yet you gave way for everyone else to
savour it - now you are filled with regrets,
ex-princess, dreamer of a thousand dreams -
you are trapped in a world of simplistic order.
You don't belong here.
| goodbye | Nov 3, '08 2:34 PM
for everyone |
I must go now,
don't hold me with your eyes
and reach your heart across
the room like that,
as my own will break.
Love you?
Of course I love you,
that's why I have to let you go,
before you know how much.
i kinda had the feeling i'd be speechless this time around,
I didn't think it would hurt so bad but now I'm unexpectedly
wearing my severed heart on my sleeve.
I wanted to tell you,
but you seemed a little preoccupied.
maybe next time.
if there ever will be one.
-fin-
Just a little while more and she'll muster the smile you've all been expecting.
So soon yet so late, how unfortunate.
Maybe in a little while she'll show you a little peek at the fairy tale she had once imagined.
imagined. imagining. imagine.
imagine a life without pain and strife and tears
Imagine a life of, whats that called again?
Right. Happiness.
She's forgotten.
How sudden.
how predictable.
I knew it, they all knew it.
shit.
| NEW TOY! | Oct 2, '08 12:41 AM
for everyone |
Lately I've been playing around with a Canon SLR, old school style. Im using film! The only problem is, I can't find anyone nearby who still does film, och!
So I'll have to hold off on publishing my amateur shots, for maybe another week.
till then!
| dati | Sep 28, '08 9:23 PM
for everyone |
sa una, bata pa ko na ibog ko ug laki na abi nakog laki... bayot diay.
paet.
www.mrcebu.com
its so wrong.
they wear so much foundation, it would put ruPaul to shame.let me know what you think :)
I haven't been very religious with posting photos on multiply, it's been awhile. I've always loved multiply but I guess I just got caught in the ordeal of either posting on facebook or multiply. oh my gas. It has come to this. So i just said, screw it- procrastination has always been my forte anyways.
But I'm starting to miss this site again. I'm thinking of putting up my own blog. Livejournal maybe.
Just my thoughts for now.
I was bloghopping one day when I found this post to be extremely funny. I was in stitches. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. from: www.reynaelena.com
Pssst! Koyah! Ateh! Pano pag ang kursunada mo eh mahilig sa arts (not crafts kasi baka witch and gaga!). Tuturuan kita. Alam nyo, kahit laki ako sa Barrio Siete, mahilig na talaga ako sa culture and arts. Kaya malimit akong pumunta nang Folk Arts at Cultural Center. Sa Folk Arts, dun sa likod. Malapit sa dagat. Pagka gabi? Iba’t ibang istatwang ma-aarte ang makikita mo. Walang sinabi ang wax museum ni Madame Tussaud sa Amsterdam. Pati Cultural Center of the Philippines, binibisita ko. Gaga! Dun lang sa labas! Marami ding istatwa dyan sa grounds pag bandang alas dos na nang umaga. Philadelphia naman, has a lot of museums mga kabisyo. Ang kahabaan alone nang Benjamin Franklin in Philly is tadtad nang art museums. Napuntahan ko na yong iba. Yong me mga kahuyan lang sa likod. Pero pag naswerte napunta ako sa loob nang art museum, I act like one classy, sophisticated art conio-zur. Kaya, I’m here to teach you the fine ethics and etikets in visiting art museums. Forget about all the maligno that resides in Folk Arts, dahil mga asensado na kayo, you all need to behave properly pag napunta kayo nang museum. Proper decoroum, classy catwalk at wag kang hahagikhik pag me nakita kang dose pulgadas sa painting. My advice sa pagsocial climb sa art museums? Hay naku! Napaka-simpli. Gayahin nyo ang ginagawa nang lola! You fake it! Hahahaha! Ok, gurl?!! Fake the damn thing! Hahaha! Let me show you my techniques mga kunichiwa!
-
Hinay ang lakad papunta sa painting. Ang ngiti dapat ala-Mona Lisa.  Seryosong naka-ngiti pero nang-iinsulto. Try to look attentively sa bawat painting. Kaya mo yan. Kunyari lang naman eh. Medyo itabingi mo ang ulo mo then palipat-lipat ka nang angle para kunyari you were checking how it looks like at different degrees of insanity para makita nila na very appreciative ka sa mga brushworks and everything. Wag mong ingud-ngud ang nguso mo. Mahilo ka sa amoy at ma-alkitran ang nguso mo. Pintura yan kabisyo. -
Say nothing other than this murmur and make sure, me makarinig sayo and say… “Hmmm!” Taz pag me katabi ka, either ka-date mo or your enemy, sabihin mo lang na “Strong and good brush lines!”. Honestly, wala naman talagang saysay ang sinabi mo. Pero kung ang katabi mo is an expert, bi-bilib yan seyo. Taz umalis ka agad! Bilisan mo bago sya mag-start nang conversation dahil yari ka! Bilis! Alis na Koyah! Lipat ka sa kabilang painting!!! -
Pano naman pag abstract? Well, alam mo, yang mga abstract painting na yan eh gawa gawa lang naman nang mga trying hard painter na di malaman kung bisexual sila. Kaya pag di mo kursunada, sabihin mo lang … “It’s kinda bold and too much“. At pag type mo, bigyan mo nang drama, “It’s kinda sad but, i like it!”. At bago makapagsalita yong katabi mo, bitbitin mo panga mo’t umalis ka agad. Daliiii! Lakad Ateh! Lakad!!!
Minsan naman, you’ll ran accross paintings na me mga numero sa ibaba mga kunichiwa. Por ejemplo, makikita mo “23/50″. Ang ibig sabihin nya is that there were only 50 pieces made at yang tinitingnan mo is pang 23rd na kopya. Ganetch. Pano naman pag nakita mo ang date nang painting as in 1901? Mag-taray ka nang konti! “I think this is labeled wrong. I knew this was painted in 1823 or something!” Pag napansin mong mag-iistart nang conversation? Bigla mong ganituhin! “Oh, am sorry! Where’s the ladies/men’s room?” O, maliwanag ang Art Class naten mga kabisyo, ok?! You go! For WORLD PEACE, go naman kayo nang museum at mag-aral nang culture! Hahahaha!
Driving down some generic route, on our way home- I looked up to the skies and remembered a moment with my father when I was merely 3, he pointed to the clouds and asked if I saw objects or pictures- it was a favorite game of mine: that and spotting rainbows.
And it was always during the times when we'd drive up to the mountains that we'd play this game and that's how he got me busy and thinking- one time I asked him why the clouds looked like bunny's and dwarves and he gingerly answered : "Your thoughts form the images that you see, it's what you call the Imagination."
Of course being 3 and all, I wanted an answer a wee bit more magical, so I said "no, its God making me see the things I can't see here (where I used to live,you could never see bunnies in the wild).
Another instance, I asked him why there was thunder and lightning, this time around I guess he knew better because he told me it was all the saints in heaven indulging in a game of bowling.
It was these moments when I embraced the magic of childhood- the wonders of experiencing life on earth- he once showed me a little maya bird cracking its egg open while in its nest.
I often see him in me when I am with my daughter, even alone I think I will always have a part of my father in me: carefree, untroubled blithe debonair.
But I can never be as great as how I always saw you to be.
Belated happy fathers day.
So I finally check my myspace account after months of not minding it- this whole changing interfaces and keeping up with everyone else out there sent me to the brink of overstimulation. If there is such a thing. I check my page and notice that once again they've changed the whole look of the site- 15 messages, 5 photo comments and a bunch of friend requests. I check my inbox- I get drawn to this one message sent at 4:26 am by a certain Dave with nary a photo.
sender: DAVE subject: ello..>> message: hi can i have ur no. ,? crush kasi kita e.. tnx tc So there you have it. Personally it was revolting- the spelling was atrocious, a totally dumbed down version of a "Hi, how are you?" kind of message. I mean, come on! "ELLO???? instead of a hello? how about Hi? that's easier to write why can't you just type in something like that? But then again, from an open minded person's standpoint- a message containing 38 characters is long enough to convey something a little more respectful to the english lexicon, let alone spelling and style like for example a "Hi, how are you? speak to you soon! Ciao" (32 characters) or something brief yet telling perhaps like a "Hello gorgeous. Talk to me." (twenty-fuckin four characters!!!) These words say so much less but speak so much more, I hate it when people abbreviate and shorten things when clearly it isn't so much as to shorten the time of writing a message as you all can see, it took me less time to concoct a far more interesting message. Society is getting dumber and dumber- People...they don't write anymore - they blog (hence, my self loathing). Instead of talking, they text, no punctuation, no grammar: LOL this and LMFAO that, TTYL this and TNX that. It just seems to me as if it's just a bunch of stupid people pseudo-communicating with a bunch of other stupid people at a proto-language that resembles more what cavemen used to speak than the Queen's English. Why I was drawn to the message? I don't know- perhaps I was just trolling around for some comedic material or perhaps I have become on of them- the LOLing,BRBing,ASLing prescience of the future. ...NOT.
For as long as I can remember, writing had always been a constant bedfellow.
The pen is mightier than the sword- that struck me when I was 12 and learning the history of our national hero. And so, from then on- I started writing, writing, writing.
It was an escape when everything else in my world was collapsing, notebooks and pens were a constant. I wrote everyday, and loved every bit of it.
Lately however, it seems as if I've been experiencing the one thing that I've often feared the most- writer's block.
Every day I think about writing again, but it seems as if I've forgotten how. Words escape me, thoughts are ephemeral and I feel defeated.
This makes me sad
one fine day You'll never get to see the gem that she is nor love the woman she's become for you are like a pompous peacock dear sir. Head raised up, forward always forward never looking back. not even to see if what you've done had left an imprint on someone or something somewhere. You'll never fly nor soar like you did as a little boy once -- choosing folly over everything else, carefree but never reckless; Doing nothing but just embracing all the freedom to your hearts content. Flying, Soaring, Falling even... You'll never see the soul in her, for you'll never bother look. One fine day, you should see the clouds all clearing, and the rainbow she so longed for shall have emanated her poor dear shattered heart. one day, one fine day-- the world wont see her cry no more. And you dear sir, should be right there standing- stumped at how you never saw the real Gem that she was.
Somehow, somewhere things will turn out right for you… and that tinge of curiosity – insatiable curiosity will and shall be satisfied. You will no longer want more nor long for more…
Somehow, someone will be able to give that to you. She will take your hand and ease your troubled soul. And you will forever dwell in permanence and contentment.
Someday you will love and be loved like no other would.
Someday you shall arrive to some point of realization where YOU shall understand and finally realize the value of contentment and having enough.
Little boy, when you become a man remember your ventures and misadventures – don’t forget the essentials of life.
And remember that for one split second life was yours but you just didn’t realize it.
May the journeys of the wind take you to where you want to be.
May happiness and joy be forever at your side.
 Its cold, blustery and unwelcoming.On a day like this, I burn and falter.
But then you turn your head to see me enter the room
and you run to me like you haven't seen me in ages. On days like these, I rise.
"Quis hic locus? Quae regio? Quae mundis plaga?"
What world is this? What kingdom? What shores of what worlds? -Dr. Wick, Girl,interrupted
The moment I heard this from the movie Girl, interrupted- everything started to cease, and suddenly and quite literally- things started falling into place. I remember how this movie meant everything to me, I was fifteen and on the verge of watching the movie everyday. I think it subliminally became my favorite since HBO asia and Star Movies (both at the same time)just wouldnt stop playing the movie over and over again- everyone at home got so sick of it- I enjoyed it: so twisted and dark and real.
Fast forward to now, I was walking my dogs in the cold when suddenly I found myself reciting the very quote that had shaken my world a few years back.
I don't feel homesick, I miss my friends but I actually like it here better- efficiency and punctuality in this country endeared me to it.
I however don't feel like I quite belong- when do we ever? or rather yet, when do I ever belong?
I recall how an Uncle once observed my penchant for non conformity-- perhaps I shall always have that streak of rebellion in me.
For someone who thrives on impermanence, how do I survive a life so constant and secure?
Not that I'm complaining, its just so difficult to be normal sometimes.
I want to make the exception and live exceptionally.
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