To Act Like Nothing's Wrong

It's de-dedicated...


Fool. I don’t want to drag you into my pathetic life anymore. I’m sorry.


Dear Tabi,

Funny how nuna would look up to you at a time like this.
Your song kept playing over and over in my head today. Is it because you mentioned birthday in your lyrics? Maybe. Strange, you speak a language foreign to me, but I listen to you rap like it is also my mother tongue.
But this particular song, it speaks something more than that word that inevitably lingers in my head today. That also inevitably make me feel like my heart has been pulled back down to the ground. I wonder at first if you are a friend or an enemy. If you are someone worth admiring, or I might just end up looking at you with dismay, realizing that you are no different? Why do you want to act like nothing happened? Do you want to come back? Or do you want to forget?
I later realized you wanted both—the way I wanted things to happen to me as well. I think that is impossible—and I think you also think the same way because you took the blame, chose to forget everything, and moved on.
But look where you are now? You left no room for regrets. No room for looking back at the past, which I believe you painfully left behind. I wish I can also do the same, Tabi. I wish I can also overcome this beautifully and happily. The stars that surround you shines so bright it says everything turns out good.
How I wish that I could catch even a speck of your stardust. Maybe it would help me fully realize that everything is all good indeed.
But for now, your song will be part of my mantra. One of the songs in my life story. I will keep telling myself that it is my fault, that I am to blame for this thing that still continues to drag me down. I will keep telling myself that life has always been, and will always be good.
So Tabi, please continue to rap our miseries away. Nuna still needs it to get by.

Scattered Rainshowers and a Little bit of Thunderstorms

I suddenly felt the need to return a favor, thus this entry
And I guess this is also my desperate reaction after I received a text message from one of my sidelines/part time jobs that I “SHOULD PARAPHRASE EVEN MORE.” [I intentionally wrote that in caps because that’s how I exactly received the text message this morning]. I am basically laughing it off, acting like I never really cared that much. In fact, my reply to that text was, “ok. I will try to work harder on that. Thanks for the heads up.” I intentionally inserted the word try in my message, to imply that I will do what I can, with not that much effort in my part. And if that will not even give satisfaction over my output, then it will be just fine if I end up not working further over the project entirely.
The truth of the matter is, I may act and look like I don’t care. But at the back of my head, I want to slug myself over and over and over again for slacking off. And this time, I think I have every reason to. I know I can do this job. This is what I technically studied in college, anyway. I should do well at this! I even told myself and everyone that I love the challenge of shifting from creative to technical writing. I even chose Development Communication as my master’s degree, thinking that it will give me more opportunity to do more technical writing, since it is so very much needed in my current work. Even if it is quite unrelated from my degree, writing is still writing. I should be able to pull this thing off, and pull it off well. But, as always, the drive to start writing and finish writing is like sucking the entire life energy out of me. The concentration to sit down for a long time and just plain write those papers is such an arduous task. It’s even more tormenting and laborious than washing the entire household laundry in one day. My mind is really having a hard time focusing. Not because I am bothered by something else [I guess I am over that stage—for now—thank you very much!], but because I’d rather be busy doing something totally irrelevant. Something that will not help me grow professionally. In most days, I practically waste much of my mornings and afternoons playing solitaire in my office computer [with this sorry excuse that it is my way of getting my paper works done], and nights watching Big Bang videos and downloading music, pictures, and videos [and then some] on the side. When sleeping time comes, I would often realize that I wasn’t able to accomplish something relevant. Talk about ways on turning my life around.
Whatever happened to my goal on becoming a better person? On my desire to be someone that should be reckoned with, especially by those people out there who didn’t believe in me in the first place? If I go on like this, it will definitely prove them right! And I don’t think they deserve to get that much pleasure any further. But how on earth am I ever going to calm these storms in my head? When all I can think of is finding ways and means to satiate my addiction on my current eye candies? I am too old to act like this, for crying out loud! But what can I do? They, unfortunately, brought my sanity back on track. And now, I can’t practically live a day without a glimpse of them.
If only these papers would just write on their own. Mirroring my thoughts, of course. But, as a movie title goes, reality bites.
I’d better snap out of that wishful thinking. Now.

If Natalie Digs Dirty Rap...

I truly, madly, DEEPLY dig Tabi rap!

Aw, c'mon! I am not trying to equate myself with Natalie Portman, but this article made me think of this rapper, whom I reckon, is definitely one of the best that I have come across so far.

Listen to him do his thang, and you'll definitely know what I mean! Fangirls call him the guy with a beastly voice. I think he is Ja Rule trapped in a handsome man's body! His rapping voice is definitely not a boyband type--and that's actually one of the reasons why I noticed him first. He's not just some guy trying hard to sound like those hard core rappers, he is one of them hard core rappers. And he had the best training, the underground scene. Add his bad boy look and piercing, smoldering eyes, he can definitely sting you like his birth sign! Certified Scorpio indeed! Ugh!

Wah! And I so much LOOOOOVE him for that! Thanks to him, I am starting to appreciate hip hop and rap again! Makes me want to find my favorite cargo pants in college and wear it hip hop style, know what I mean?XD Unfortunately, I am too old to sport that kind of attire already, so I think I'll just stick to listening...and perhaps lip syncing with TOP while watching him in my iPod or in YouTube.


And then reminisce a little bit how embarrassingly comfortable those pants were. Too bad i don't know where it is anymore...*sigh*

birthday aftermath

“It would have been much easier for me not to have been born…”
-Shawn “Clown” Crahan


This is the kind of Math/arithmetic equation I dreaded doing. Adding another year to my age. Especially if it means getting older—and still seeing that everything changes, everything stays the same.
Or, in my case, everything’s going downhill.
To distract myself on how far downhill I am heading, I tried counting tombstones on top of the hill. I intentionally detached myself from things and gadgets that would connect me to the world. Unfortunately, strong winds and sudden gush of rain forced me to stop my “tombstone count” and evacuated me from my comfortable spot, where I can also get to have my nice good nicotine count on the side. I ended up waiting for the rain to stop in a place where connecting myself to the world is so tempting, thanks to this thing I can’t leave home without. I hope that the chocolate carrot cake and passion fruit tea would keep me away from it and continue writing these “birthday thoughts.” I believe this is the only time of the year that I can get my thoughts together, so here goes.

=*=*=*=

I started my afternoon gathering my thoughts at a secluded area surrounded by gigantic statues of saints. The place was quite eerie, to be quite honest. The pews were old, almost dilapidated. They were quite dusty, but its smell kinda mixed with the smell of the earth, making me not mind on what it might do to my khaki fisherman pants. I started thinking about those people who I know would remember. And I know that they mean well in remembering. I would like to technically start by thanking all of you, from the bottom of my heart—even if I stayed out of the loop for a while, making me not receiving all of your joyful messages for another year in my life…whatever that means. Either way, I am so blessed to realize that I have countless people who loves and cares for me—and here I am preferring to act like a hermit and stay away from it all. God knows how many times I’ve tried to show how grateful I am. But it seems that my effort is still not enough. What is enough, anyway? But either way, I hope and pray that despite my queer way of reciprocating all that love, you are all in my prayers for today. And I hope that all of you would still understand my reasons for silence…especially on this time of the year…

=*=*=*=

Horoscope for the birthday celebrants [that’s me, included], as seen on today’s paper: You are often viewed as the voice of reason. Expect to learn something valuable in your year ahead.
Funny how reason dominated my thoughts since this year started. To be quite honest, this is one thing that I am so much searching for—and still hoping to find. One of my ultimate birthday wishes, if I may say that. I was counting tombstones instead of candles on my cake. It’s all because I don’t know and I can’t find the reason behind all of these. On why I should be blowing candles on a birthday cake and be happy doing that, in the first place. Everything related to tombstones was all I could think about these past several months. And because I have a reputation of cowering and taking the backseat most often than not, they just remain as thoughts and figments of my imagination, together with the love and prince charming I so very much dream of since I was a naïve 16 year old. I lost count of how many times I imagine myself seeing blood on my wrist—whether the cut should be vertical or horizontal, or how it feels to have a rope choke on my throat, my feet hanging behind our washroom, like a newly washed shirt hanging out to dry. I don’t know if it is a good thing, or what, but maybe I’ll be seeing that good reason soon—and I just hope that it’ll be sooner than I think!

=*=*=*=

Dear broken promises and washed away deals…I want to say that you are the least of my problems…like I don’t really give a damn anymore. You are far easier to forgive and forget than the pleas and promises of staying and not leaving town again. I don’t care anymore if you come to resurface like a genie in a bottle, or will remain washed away by the ocean. Suffice it to say that today’s afternoon rain says it all. The cold weather starts to bring my brows together. Huddling under a thick sweatshirt and long black trench coats are like those heavy and annoying shackles on my ankles. I will still love the summer, even it means remembering that deal we had over one sunny morning at the beach.
What I am trying to say is really, I don’t care anymore. I never really expected you to come forward and give me better options anyway…nobody did.


=*=*=*=

My more concrete way of saying thank you…something that I know must be said and done on birthdays…
As always, to my loving family and friends, thank you for all the love, despite everything I do to all of you in return. Thank you for reminding me once again that violet is my favorite color, and not black and white. Thank you for telling me that I am more colorful than that! Will forever treasure those violet things given to me today…
To sanctuaries on top of the hill. For never failing to remind me that I still have a good soul despite all that has happened to me…and after all the crap that I’ve done. I can practically consider myself to be a living dead…until you reminded me otherwise. I know you will keep my prayers and wishes safe…until it is the right time for them to be answered.
To enemies, who I know also exist in my book. I am proud to say that I only have a few on my list, but I still thank you, nevertheless, for your existence. For making me battle with your intellect, should it be called as one. And even though one is forcibly included as someone to hate, I would want to think that I’m doing this for the right reasons—all because I want to do the right thing…whatever that is.
To Matthew Gray Gubler and Criminal Minds. Strange show to watch as therapy, but that is how you really are. How humans can dehumanize the people around them makes me see how human we can be in the end. I want to approach my enemies in the same manner. The only way for me to win them over with respect and dignity, despite them not giving me that. I will definitely look forward to all of you again this next season!
=*=*=*=

And to you. As what Garcia told Reid, “I can’t be my sparkly self when you are where you are.” Every morning I wake up, I dread the thought that it is going to be another day. How I start it by practically imagining my name has finally been etched on a marble stone because of this decision that you’ve made. I over count my caffeine consumption and calorie intake in the middle of the day to inject me enough endorphin to last me the entire afternoon, and torture myself with more than 10 kilometer walk home whenever I could, to sweat all that guilt and painful thoughts away. I consume countless amount of nicotine to at least put my head together at work and school. And in most cases, the nicotine consumption would go futile. My head would always chant how much all of these is my fault. That nothing and no one can take me out of this crap I am in anymore. At the end of the day, that hopelessly hopeful wishful thinking lulls me like a hypnotic lullaby and ironically completes my entire being. A false promise that all of this is just a sick joke and everything will be fine in the end.
Your action and decision always remind me how less of a woman I am the minute I wake up, and it even torments me to oblivion every night. You may have treated and likened me to the lowest of all creatures, but there’s this tiny part of me still whispering, encouraging me to prove to you otherwise despite it all. In fact, I will prove to you otherwise. I will prove you and everybody else wrong. I may still not understand what all of these is about, but I will make sure that should I be destined not see you again the same way and watch you from above, I will make certain that you will not take my entire being from me. You are not going to make me less of a person and I will make sure of that. I will not be saying more about this, especially in this manner, but I would want to believe—I still want to believe, that all of these still happen for a good reason…even if I think that everything is out of reach for me already.
Because of you, I will struggle everyday of my life to be something you are not. I will struggle to be a better person, with a stronger heart and a kinder soul. I will struggle to feel other people’s pain, including yours, even if it pains me to give up the smile and happiness that rarely comes my way. I will struggle to choose the right thing, even if it means not breathing anymore to atone for the things that I have done wrong over the years. Something I know you never did. I am carrying your cross and your pain and I know I will carry them for the rest of my life. It is my curse, my consequence. I don’t know and I still do not understand why I have to bear all of these. This may be the lesson that Everyday is trying to teach me. What will make me fully understand, that I do not know.
And I hope someday you will.


"In youth we learn; in age we understand."
-Maria Von Evner-Eschenbach

Darnit! I Missed It!

Sorry, Mother Earth! I missed commemorating your hour! To think I decided to skip treating myself to watch a movie to turn off the lights at home. I decided to watch ISD's graduation rites, thinking that by the time it is over, I would be in time to turn the lights off.

Unfortunately, your hour came and I was still in school. I was about to join everyone for dinner at the canteen. I told my mom to turn the lights off since no one would be in the office anyway. She said to leave the lights since their activity is not yet over. It's their graduation day anyway, so they had an excuse not to participate, she added. I just fell silent and not argue with her further. I thought of calling my brother to turn the lights off at home. And again, I decided not to give it a go because I have a bad feeling that his passive mind would not understand it's all in a good cause.

I feel bad for missing it, for not taking part of it. Malls vowed to participate. Our mayor ordered to turn off the street lights and the People's Park for you. Famous landmarks all over the world would be in silhouettes for an hour to lessen the consumption of energy. People all over the world abstained from walking in brightness for an hour! It is just soooo bad of me!

I want to make it up to you. I cannot turn off the light for an hour one of these days because they might think I am crazy, or missed paying the light bill, but I am thinking of saving energy in a different manner by doing a walkathon. One of these days next week, I will walk home again to save gas and fare money. It may only be a 45-minute walk, but I am sure that the gas I'll save from that walk will go a long way!

I care for you, Mother Earth! And I will do anything to keep you green and existing...

Legacy

What was silent in the father, speaks in the son; and often I found in the son, the unveiled secret of the father. - Frederich Nietzsche.

This is going to be another news in the literary world.
And somehow, I itched to post this in my blog as a warning, maybe?
Or a reminder of sorts in my end.
Whichever.

Nada

Oasis said,
"When you take my soul, don't take my pride."

But would it matter?
I'm as good as dead.

You killed me.

Presumptuous

SLOW MOTION BIRTHDAY THANK YOU

I cannot thank all of you enough for the lovely messages,
cards,
songs,
videos,
drawings ,
thoughts,
words,
cheers,
and telepathic psychic greetings (you know who you are)
it literally took me 2 whole days to read them all
i am the luckiest man on the planet to be surrounded by so much love
yours,

matthew

Aaaaaaw! I just love the way he said thank you to all those who remembered his birthday 2 days ago! And I can't help but admire his line breaks. I could almost feel the emotion he wants to convey to those people who remembered.

And here I am...assuming that the crumbs I offered him in cyberspace was able to reach his side of the world.

Quite impossible, I should say. This was taken from his MySpace blog. I don't have a MySpace account...yet.

It is one of the things that I always avoid practically my entire life.

Ironically, it is one of the lessons that I believe I haven't learned still.

But either way, I still wish...hope that small as that crumb may be, it was still able to have its say...

A Tubular Birthday

It's called "the Reid effect." Wish this could also happen to me, too!

It's the Gube's 29th birthday today!

I know it's frivolous to remember someone's birthday who doesn't even know you exist, but let's just say this is my way of "thanking" someone who has made life easier...and more humane, by loving what they do and by being good at it.

Also, we both fall in number 9 in numerology. At least, if we are going to just add the birth day. Thanks to this uber slow connection we have as I write this entry, I have no idea as to how to thoroughly research this common denominator that I see.tsk. But, for the sake of the birthday boy, I will post the meaning of his birthday number. Here goes.

Your birth on the 9th day of the month adds a tone of idealism and humanitarianism to your nature. You become one who can work easily with people because you are broadminded, tolerant and generous. You are ever sensitive to others' needs and feelings, and even if the other numbers in your core makeup don't show it, you are very sympathetic and compassionate. Your feeling run deep and you often find yourself in dramatically charged situations. This 9 energy always tends to give more that it gets.

And I also can't help but look on mine. Here's what it said:

Your birthday on the 18th day of the month suggests than you are one who can work well with a group, but still remain someone who needs to maintain individual identity. There is a humanistic or philanthropic approach to business circumstances in which you find yourself. You may have good executive abilities, as you are very much the organizer and administrator. You are broad-minded, tolerant and generous; a compassionate person that can inspire others with imaginative ideas. Some of your feelings may be expressed, but even more of them are apt to be repressed. There is a lot of drama in your personality and in the way you express yourself to others. Oddly enough, you don't expect as much in return as you give.

Hmmm....looks like we have the same numerology, after all!

May 2009 be as colorful...and as positively loud as that pink sock he's wearing...not only to the birthday boy, but to his gazillion admirers as well!

Cheers!

Apektado

Mahirap tong gagawin ko...pero susubukan bago magbago ang aking isipan...

Laking gulat ko na lang nang makita ko ang "Paalam, Kiko" na nakasulat sa telebisyon sa isang tindahan nung pauwi ako ng bahay. Nung napadaan ako sa multiply site niya nung isang buwan, walang pahiwatig na siya ay nanghihina. Patuloy pa rin siya sa paggawa ng musikang Pinoy, kasama si Ely Buendia. Kahit silang dalawa ay may sakit, at siya labas pasok sa ospital. Grabe. Wala siyang pagod. Walang tawad sa pagsunod sa tawag ng sining at kultura [naaaks! ako ba ito?!]. Nang nakita ko ang balita, pinaaalala ko sa sarili ko na una kong gagawin pagdating ng bahay ay buksan ang telebisyon at ang computer para makasiguro sa balitang nakita ko. Pagdating ko ng bahay, kumpirmado. Di siya gawa ng aking guni-guni, o ng aking tulirong imahinasyon.

Bata pa lang ako, sobrang aliw na talaga ako kay Francis Magalona. Di lamang dahil sa kanyang guwapo at maamong mukha, pero naaaliw ako sa ideya na tinatawag ng mga tito at tita ko ang kapatid kong si Myko na "Kiko" dahil magkahawig daw sila. Bigla kong hinanap ang Photo Album niya. Sa kasawiang palad, di ko na mahanap ang mga solo baby pictures niya. Maliban sa litrato na ito na kasama ako at sina Mama at Leeroy, na kakalabas lamang sa mundong ibabaw:

Si Myko ang batang LALAKE na nakapula. Bahala na kayong humusga kung tama ang mga tito at tita ko o sadyang nagdidiliryo lamang sila nung mga panahon na yun...

Balik sa usapan. Nawala siya ng ilang taon sa sirkulasyon, ngunit nang nagbalik, pinakilala niya sa bansa ang musikang rap, at simula noon, siya'y nabansagang King of Pinoy Rap, Francis M, at Master Rapper. Sino ang makakalimot sa Mga Kababayan Ko?

At siyempre, nasundan pa ito ng marami pang kanta na di lamang tungkol sa pag-ibig [Cold Summer Nights...tama ba ako?], pero pati na rin tungkol sa politika at sa ating bansa. Dito ako mas lalong humanga sa kanya. Biruin niyo, anak siya ng mga beteranong artista na naging haligi ng pinilakang tabing, ipinanganak at lumaking burgis, nag-aral sa San Beda, a man from Manila, ika nga ng isa sa kanyang mga kanta, pero heto siya at buong pusong pinagsisisigawan sa mundo na ipinagmamamalaki niya ang kanyang pagiging Filipino. Nahiya naman tuloy ako. Buti pa siya. Ako, kelan kaya?

Hindi lamang siya sa musika nakikilala, pati rin pinilakang tabing, sa telebisyon, sa potograpiya, at pati na rin sa pangangalakal, sa pamamagitan ng kanyang 3 stars & a sun clothing line. Bukod sa kanyang karera at pagmamahal sa sining, sino bang di mamamangha sa kanyang buhay pamilya? Sobrang bow ako sa kanya bilang isang asawa at ama. Sa mukhang tulad niya na di ka magtataka kung magpapapiyak siya ng babae, o maging pabaya sa mga anak, yun ang isang bagay na di natin narinig sa mga balita. Naalala ko sa isang interview niya sa isang programa nung 1990s, sabi niya kinunan na niya ng college insurance ang kanyang mga anak. Sinigurado na niya ang edukasyon nilang walo. Bigla kong napagtanto, kung itong taong ito na alam natin ay hindi nakaranas ng hirap at kawalan, ay marunong din maghanda, ano pa kaya tayo na kailangan pa nating magbanat ng buto para lamang mabili ang mga pangangailangan sa araw-araw?

Nang ibinalita niya na siya ay may leukemia, hindi ito naging hadlang sa kanya bilang isang artista. Pinatunayan niya na kahit mahirap ang pagdadaanan niya, alam niyang malalampasan niya ang mga ito. Kung babasahin ng maigi ang kanyang mga isinulat sa kanyang blog, wala itong halong pag-aalala, o kalungkutan man lang. Lagi itong may tonong may maririnig pa tayo na balita galing sa kanya mismo.

At ngayong tuluyan na siyang nawala, sino kaya ang susunod sa yapak niya? Meron kayang maglalakas loob na maging bagong siya?

Isa talaga siyang malaking kawalan. Di lamang sa mundong ginagalawan niya, pero sa sining, sa kabuuan. Pero, sabi nga nila, ang mga tunay na artista, hindi nalalaos. Pag biglang nawala, alam na natin ang dahilan...

At yun nga ang kanyang naging tadhana.



PS: Hindi talaga madaling magsulat ng Tagalog!!! Hindi ko alam kung kailan mauulit ito, pero sana nga maulit pa!*peace sign*

DEVC 207 Exercise 4

As the Publication Associate of the Research and Publication Office of this college, I am basically assigned to make the advertising materials for the office's events in school. And since the school's research week is fast approaching, this is the poster I drafted for informing the students, faculty and staff to take part on our event. Hope I more or less captured the basic parts in making posters.

From Johnny the Homicidal Maniac

Dear Die-ary,
I stared, motionless, before the mirror. As always, I stayed until I'm convinced that there is no glass, nothing, separating me from the room I see on the other side.
I imagine that everything is different. Over there. Better. There are people, in that world, who I would like.
But, like always, my hand hits the glass.
I know that if I'd only waited one more second...
Shit.
I'm gonna go kill a party clown.

Another Day

Always have to move on,
To leave it all behind
Go along with time...


The girl in a cactus costume.

She prefers to just sit in a corner, observe people around her.
She is the most ignored girl. Someone from the outside, looking in.
But despite of that, it doesn't stop her from smiling at them. From acknowledging them. From knowing them. From loving them.

She is idealistic. This is her ideal. She knows how she feels and sticks to it.
She can be pretty stubborn like that.
And even though they don't understand her, she still carries on. She continues to hold on until it hurts, like the thorns that stick out to the plant she's wearing.
The deeper the thorns sink into her skin, the more she believes to what and how she feels.

She doesn't care. Even if the thorns will bleed her dry. Or penetrates into her bones. She will remain where she is, unfaltered, unwavered.

Then suddenly, without her even knowing it, she's tired. She has bled out.

She sits back again to her corner. This time, she lets nothing and no one take her out of her place.
She is looking from afar, as always. She isn't smiling anymore. They are replaced with tears rolling down her cheeks.

She stands up once again. She looks at them as if they aren't even there.
She feels numb. She is crestfallen, exhausted. She longs to see the end.
She doesn't know where. She also doesn't know how. She doesn't even know when.
All she knows,
before all of these will come to an end, she will feel that one thing that she is holding on to all this time.

And she will definitely make sure of that.