Happy birthday to you... (singing quietly to himself)

The fact that I had so many expectations on the past few days and not all of them have been met is so annoying. Even depressing, for things did not go the way they were supposed to be. Throw in the fact that these are my last few days of being a teenager.

I remember distinctly that day exactly a year ago that this is the year that I would do something that would be the turning point of my life, this will be the year that would go down in my personal history books as one of the major influences in my history. But right now, with a few minutes left before the anniversary of my release into this world ends, there is still nothing – not even a hint of that grand pronouncement I had made exactly a year ago.

There were so many things that I planned to do. So many things to finish but fate simply did not allow me to. Even with the strength of my will and with a dangerous disregard for my health and social position, I failed to meet these goals. But nonetheless, I maintained the fact that I did everything I can do. That is what is important, at least for me (that is what I would like to think).

A few days ago, I wrote something about the crimson sunrise and all that, but really, I’m losing hope. It’s just that feeling that everybody is conspiring against you, for you seem to encounter opposition wherever you go. But I will not lose hope. I will withdraw something I said a few weeks ago – I am not finished with this life. I just realized that sometimes you don’t need a reason to live. You just need to choose life, for life in itself is a struggle and it is here in this struggle that we find life itself. Struggling, from a means, becomes an end in itself.

Therefore, this means I’ll be sticking around this life a little bit longer. At least longer than what I presumed. A very happy birthday to you, Kelvin.

The crimson sunrise

The darkest winter is once again over. Now it is time to venture forth into the light – the inevitable summer. I shake the remnants of past sorrow from my eyes and arise from the deepest abyss that has kept me cold these past few weeks. I will rise again and recover what I had lost, which I left and now will return to.

The door to miracles has opened for me once again, and everything, everything that I will do on this day forward will be devoted on keeping that door open. That door will open to my crimson sunrise, which will surround the core of my existence with the most purest and radiant light.

(The words are conceived by red horse, tequila, generoso, my SLR, severe sleep loss and various events which bring me here. I’m about to go to sleep. P.S. – Good morning/afternoon/evening my crimson sunshine.)

The vinegar tasters

In a place out of doors, near forests and meadows, stands a jar of vinegar – the emblem of life.

Confucius approaches the jar, dips his finger and tastes the brew. “Sour” he says. “Nonetheless, I can see where it could be very useful in preparing certain foods.”

Jesus comes to the vinegar jar, dips in his finger, and has a taste. “Bland” is his comment. “It is not fit to drink. In order that no one else will come to drink it, I will drink it all myself.”

The next to stick a finger in was Kelvin. “Ugh. Bitter.” says Kelvin. “What the hell is this stuff?”

Jesus and Confucius face Kelvin and states “It is your fate, young child, it is your fate.” The two philosophers then take turns sprinkling him with the vinegar. Kelvin was later seen at the meadows, dancing and laughing hysterically.

Empty, but happy nonetheless

Despite the fact that everything is crashing down before my very eyes, I feel strangely happy. It's that feeling where you suddenly feel content at your state, no matter how much despair or suicidal you feel at the moment. I forget why I am all alone here infront of the pc and indulging in solitary pursuits. The only thing on my mind is that feeling of letting go, whatever is weighing me down at the moment.

It's an empty feeling but at least the weight on my shoulders is not heavy . Better remember this as tomorrow when I regain consciousness, everything will feel like shite again. I have to pick myself up again, sling my emotional baggage over my shoulder and continue on to God knows where..

Yosi, ang mabangis na cirkulo at bulong ng pamamaalam

Kanina, paglabas ko ng UST, deretso ako sa mini stop at bumili ng yosi. Isang kaha. 20s.

Matagal na rin naman akong tumigil manigarilyo, mga ilang buwan na rin. Ngunit dahil exams ngayon at palaging puyat, napilitan akong magsimula muli. Masarap din naming manigarilyo minsan, kahit alam mong papatayin ka nito isang araw at ang pera na pinaghirapan mong kitain ay gagamitin mo lang sa pagsira ng iyong sarili habang ang mga korporasyon ay pinagkakakitaan ang iyong kasiraan (pero wag tayong pumunta sa paksang iyon, mapapalayo tayo kung ganon).

Dati mahilig akong umupo sa garahe ng bahay namin tuwing madaling araw, naninigarilyo at pinapanood ang makapal na pluma ng usok na ibinubuga ko. Palagi kong iniisip na iyon ang mga problema ko at sa simpleng akto na paghinga ay nailalabas ko ang aking mga problema, katabi ang isang baso ng kape at nagiisip ng kung anong sumagi sa isipan ko.

Ngunit kanina, hindi na ako nabigyan ng pagkakataon na makahanap ng matinong kanto, makapagsindi ng sigarilyo at bumili ng malamig na kape upang makapag pahinga kahit sandali mula sa walang kapagod pagod na pagikot ng buhay ko. Kahit ako nagulat sa pagbalik ng pagiging chain smoker ko kanina. Sunod sunod ang pagsindi ko at bago ko namanlayan, naubos na ang isang kaha ko. Di ko napansin talaga, wala akong takot sa maaring cancer (oo, health conscious na ko, seryoso.) na idudulot nito.

Napilitan akong umakma sa kung ano mang meron sa harapan ko at tanggapin yung mga bagay na hindi ko matanggap, hindi dahil sa ito ang dapat kong gawin - ito lang ang magagawa ko. Wala akong nagawa. Naging isang mabangis na cirkulo ang mga pangyayari, umulit lamang ang mga pagkakamali ko kahit ginawa ko ang lahat maiwasan lang ito. Inisip ko na ito ang aking penitensiya, isang parusa ko sa aking sarili sa aking kapabayaan sa aking pagaaral, sa kaibigan ko, sa mga taong mahal ko at sa aking sarili.

Masyadong ring naging mataas ang tingin ko sa hinaharap. Inisip kong ito ang taon na maliliwanagan na ako at unti unti akong aahon sa libingan na hinukay ko para sa aking sarili apat na taon nang nakararaan. Ang hindi ko alam ay kung gaano kataas ang inakyat ko ay ganun din kabigat ang aking pagbagsak. Hindi nga tuluyang mapapatay ang anino ng nakaraan, kahit gaano mo pilitin na paslangin ang mga ito. Nakatatak na ang aking mga kasalanan, at ang mga kasalanan na ito ay palaging pinapaalala sa akin sa pamamagitan ng pagulit ng nakaraan. Ang mga nangyari na bunga ng aking mga pagkakamali dati ay nangyayari ulit, maski ano mang pagasa na aking itinatanim sa aking puso. Wala akong magawa. Wala akong nagawa. At iyon ang pinakamasakit sa lahat.

Wala nang mas sasakit pa sa pagkaalam ng sarili mong pagbagsak at sa kaalaman ng iyong kapalaran. Lalo na kung ang buhay mo ay literal na tumatakbo sa harap ng iyong mga mata at wala kang magawa, wala kang lakas upang hawakan ang mga pangyayari at iayon ito sa iyong kagustuhan. Kahit anong pilit mo, kahit gaano katibay ang paninindigan mo sa iyong mga desisyon, doon at doon din pumupunta ang resulta ng iyong mga desisyon. Kaya apat na taon na ang nakararaan, di ko pa rin makita ang tunay na pakiramdam ng pagiging buhay.

Ayoko na, pagod na ako sa buhay na ito. Kung me kabilang buhay o meron pang isang buhay sa kabila ng realidad na ito, patayin mo na ako, gusto ko nang lumipat sa mundong iyon. Tapos na ako sa buhay na ito. Tapos na.

Is that even an advantage?

Alas quatro na. Kinabukasan, gigising ako ng 6:00 at me dalawang exam, parehong alanganin. Hindi ko alam ang gagawin. Hindi pa ako inaantok.

Anyway, masarap mag feeling na hopeless at suicidal kapag me exams. Di mo na iniisip ang posibleng epekto ng puyat sa iyo. Ako nga, tatlong linggo nang tig lilima o apat na oras lamang ang oras, sinasabayan ko pa ng jogging sa gabi. Mas ok nang mapagod ako kaysa sumagi sa isip mo ang lagay ng buhay mo.

Masarap mapagod. Nagiging puro ang kalagayan ng isip at gumagaan ito. Dahil dito, it swings upon it's axis, the neck. Dahil dito pinanganak ang contemporary headbanger. Hmmm... wala lang. Naisip ko lang. Para kasing ang sarap iuntog ang ulo sa pader kapag puyat, baka sakaling luminaw, o kaya matagtag at lumabas ang isang natatagong abilidad tulad ng... psyche reading! Ayos siguro yun, kung me gusto kang malaman sa isang tao, magtatanong ka ng mga katanungang indirectly eh dumadampi sa paksang iyong ninanais na malaman. Kung magagawa ko lang yoon, di na siguro ako nagsimulang manigarilyo muli, dahil sa mga nakakalitong eksena ko sa mga kaibigan ko. Isipin mo, tanungin mo lang siya kung ano paborito niyang kulay at malalaman mo na kung only child lang siya o ano... parang yung kokology ni mariel.

Naaalala ko tuloy si Sigmund Freud. Sabi niya lahat ng motivation ng tao ay linked sa kanyang sex drive. cool.

Kumpirmado na. Boring siya (at least sa standards ko). Madami na rin ang nawawalan ng kumpiyansa sa kaniya. Itatago nalamang natin siya sa pangalang "Golden Boy", kasi ginintuan ang kanyang puso. Pero tulad ng ginto, malambot ang puso niya at para siyang putik sa kamay ng mga babae. Kawawa ka naman.

(ayan tumitilaok na ang tandang, susubukan ko nang matulog.)

this is NOT MY hell week

I experience weeks like these everytime. And since I've been desensitized, this is just an ordinary walk for me.

Physical and mental stress is fine, but this... it's excruciating. Everytime you take air in, you remember. The desire to just scream your lungs out and proceed to toss someone out of the window is really tempting to just try and see what it does for me but I am just not ready to give in to that impulse.

You spend every morning listening to loud metal music, hoping that it would clear your mind and forget. You spend the day wishing you were someone else, that you were somewhere else besides the mess you're in.

Everything screams "Deadline! Deadline!" and you would like to scream back, but it is drowned by useless self gratifying praise and insults of people you don't even know and don't even care about.

I am finished with this world. Kill me, I wanna go to the next one.

Hello, my crimson sunshine

She stands on the edge of the cliff, the burning crimson sun that blurs her edges, making her look the ethereal spirit of the sun's fury. She stands with her back to the sun and her front to me and the brightness, this terrible brightness wraps her figure and yet her facade remains a shadow, oblivious to the raging of the light behind her.

The wish, almost a whisper, passes from my lips without me noticing it. A sudden utterance of an urgent need, to stop the time, as the vision of heaven and hell blurs into a single reality. The knowledge that her presence is fleeting, that sweet sorrow that takes my breath away, emptying the mind of thought, realigning it and making the task of etching her ephemeral image on my mind the very core of existing at that point of time.

Yet I must move on. I will turn my back at this vision because of the fact that it is a vision. My reality has always been dreary, mixed with tragic humor that makes it real. Yet the image of my lady and the burning crimson sun will burn in my heart like the embers of an eternally dying flame. It will never go out.

Inverse Rearview Mirror Disorder

Have you ever noticed those signs on the rearview mirrors of some vehicles which state that things/objects seen on that mirror are actually closer than they seem? Well in this case, this person, whom for purposes of identification we shall call person A, has the illusion that he/she is emotionally close to other persons while in reality she is not. There becomes the disparity between the reality of one’s mind to the consensus reality which is not advisable (nor encouraged, with some exceptions).

Thus, we have the term “inverse rearview mirror” because person A is actually farther than they think to the persons involved.

Additionally, this person may sometimes give random advice or may want to take control of the life of the unfortunate person he/she has the illusion of being close to but is really not.

If you ever encounter these persons, it would be best to shatter the mirror immediately. For if you would not, the illusion of this person might become a reality (gasp!).

Get me outta here.

Hey, don’t be so annoyed. We rub shoulders with them all the time. In the jeepney, in the bus and at UST for the population of people like this is alarmingly high in this age of television and insipid showbiz reports.

Now you might be asking, who’s he talking about this time? Well it’s this person affected with the inverse rearview mirror disorder, which will be explained tomorrow. Basically they are those who look on and meddle with the lives of other people in order to feel involved and be entertained, with or without the consent and/or approval of the persons whose lives are messed with.

Ah yes, the products of too much TV and showbiz idealism. If we would look at the collective traits of these people, we would find out that these people live for gossip, talking about other people’s lives as if it were their own. It seems that their lives lack the necessary complications in order to make it interesting and thus, they follow the lives of those people who lead a more complicated life than their own.

A look at the audience share of that popular idiotic show Pinoy Big Brother shows that in the R.P., there is a large population of these kinds of people. Why the Big Brother? Because the main concept is this: we show you the lives of these people for 24 hours a day for a span of a few weeks.

What then is the idea behind this, the thing that the producers are feeding to the audience of this successfully idiotic show? Basically it’s voyeuristic entertainment. For those people who have no life of their own, it follows that they have a lot of time on their hands. Their life, being nonexistent, lacks the substance that the human psyche needs so they turn to these reality shows in their craving for excitement and substance.

Actually, reality shows defy their own meaning. The mere fact that the people they show are interesting/gorgeous enough to be on TV shows that these reality shows occupy a different reality other than this one. But that’s beside the point. Going back to the point, the producers sells the viewers of Big Brother sells them the delusion and the lives of the people featured on the so-called reality television. The lives of the viewers are sometimes sooooo boring that they turn to other people’s life for excitement and variation in their daily routine.

The paragraph above is the meat of these last 4 paragraphs. So to the unfortunate reader, we want to extend our apologies for the digression. It was a practical joke. Really (laughter infront of the monitor).

Going back to the main topic (which I almost forgot) as opened by the first two paragraphs, there is this person whose presence greatly annoys me. She is a pest. Now for the purposes of identification, we shall call her “The Princess of the Inverse Rearview Mirror Disorder People” or the PIRMDP.

Yes! She not only has no life but she is the princess of the inverse rearview disorder people! It runs in their DNA! What an annoying combination!

Well, that piece of self gratifying insult aside, we move on to say that she had meddled with my life in a way that is utterly unacceptable. Not only did she affect me but she managed, in the process, to muddle up other people’s lives. I, naturally, will take responsibility to the annoyance and anger that she caused this people for it is my garbage (or treasure, depending on which way you will look at it) that she, the PIRMDP, has exposed. This garbage (or treasure) is causing the said mess in the life of the other people mentioned. But the point is that her meddling in my private affairs causes my pain and others as well.

Her presence thus, must be done away with. She will get hell tomorrow.

100th post. And I digress

This is the hundredth post. Yes this is.

Now while I wait for you to count the posts starting from day one (you don't trust me, do you..), I would like to state the fact that the author and the blog has completely different personalities. Even if the Author writes in order to make his life more interesting than it really is, the ideas stated here is completely a different personality.

The Author would like to say that the one sitting infront of the screen, typing away like a maniac, is an illusion created to satisfy the break in time-space continuum, brought upon by the Korean wave in the Philippines, which accelerated people's emotions to such speeds that a rift in the multi-dimensional fabric was created. Thus, the Author was trapped in the rift, making him see visions from different realities. This explains why this blog contains the truth but with minor variations.

Nah, the paragraph before was a result of the Author's hyperactive imagination. But really, the author is really happy to have caused people some joy or at least promote the active reading of blogs, not those with kitsch in them and lyrics of a song they liked there. The Author would like to release his overflowing happiness (oh no what did you do, he's smiling!) and tell you that the posts you have enjoyed reading were written with as much as effort that the Author can devote to it. It would help if some people actually commented on the posts so that we can have a meaningful discussion on that subject but alas, we only have 11 comments. Thus, writing has become a selfish act for the Author. It serves as an outlet for his uhm... whatever. But who or what receives this? Probably his ego, which is good enough.

Now the hundredth post will be showered with Perignon wine and served with caviar and truffles. Together with drums of the most expensive coffee you can brew. We hope that you have enjoyed reading this page throughout it's run and we ensure you that this will continue in the years to come. Thank you. (comments are very much welcomed)

What rain?

The rain continued to fall and cover everything

I wanted to do something.

But I felt like the rain was going to last forever as with the rainy seasons and it would engulf and wash away whatever I would do.

I had nothing.

I neither experienced any extreme state in which I could feel my heartbeats, or the kind of loneliness that would result in unprovoked hysteria.

All I had was the black blank walls which suppressed me.

If my thoughts expanded beyond the limits of this room existed beyond the walls, the falling rain would dissolve everything, it seemed.

I wanted to do something.

But while I pondered upon doing this and that... the rain always faded the thoughts away.

And if it helped if I ignored the walls and make that connection,

Would it be right even if it walks the margins of selfishness?

I wondered when the rain would stop.

It will, but it will get worse before it does.

(Inspired by MPD, that hellishly brutal mini series and hopelessness from that dire inescapable situation. Ugh.)

On 9:45, xenogears, the metropolis and Freud

This morning, I got my coat, grabbed my SLR and commuted all the way to Canlubang to see a play in which Jordan, a good friend of mine, played a part in. The trip was uneventful, a change welcomed, as a regular trip to Manila would pit you against countless adversaries – drivers from hell, noxious exhausts from the automobile bellies and those passengers who are not acquainted with the word fragrant. I reached Paseo de Santa Rosa at 11:30 am.

Immediately after meeting Jordan at Paseo, we started talking about photography and went to this restaurant where the price is reasonable, the food is good and has hefty servings of it. This combination is such a rarity for me, having been raised on the commercial formula that the carinderias and fastfoods in Manila – the small-serving-expensive-delicious formula, useless-cheap-bland-stomach-filler formula and those that restaurants that you simply will refuse to take a step across the doorway because of hygienic reasons.

So with my stomach satisfied, I felt ready to fill my mind.

The play started at around 3:00 in the afternoon and it is basically about a young nurse, Annette, whose guilt from the death of an infant and sexual abuse drove her to create an alter ego to handle the emotions that suddenly welled up from deep inside her. She had created “system id” as all players of the game xenogears (from PS1, xenosaga sucks) know. This System Id, which is a Freudian concept btw, is an alter ego of the schizophrenic main character Fei Fong Wong. This System Id is very powerful and can destroy giant robots with a couple of deathblows, just like Antoinette who is the alter ego of Annette (sorry for the digression but I am a xenogears geek haha). This alter ego acts like a prostitute and kills those she seduces, as retribution to the faceless rapist. This is the plot line of the play 9:45. Oh the title? The title is 9:45 because the alter ego emerges only after 9:45 pm. Imagine, an alter ego with a timeslot. Haha.

I really have to say this because it was such a pleasant shock for me - the birth scene, in where the alter ego of Annette surfaced, was the one which struck me. It was simply… intense. The depression of the character from the death of the infant under her care, the liberation of those suppressed (oh, Freudian!) rage and the descent into madness was forcefully imprinted unto your mind. The madness of Annette makes you want to look away and yet you revel in the liberation of this poor young girl. You feel the power of her alter ego Antoinette, her rage from her suppression and her vow of retribution towards those who had hurt her ego Annette. Antoinette takes Annette into her arms, protecting her and at the same time she kills those who harm her. The emotion that Regine (who portrayed Annette/Antoinette) showed me proves my incompetence as a writer – I can’t translate it to words. It can only be seen, be felt. So Regine, you deserve a hundred ovations from me (which I did not do, due to physical and time limitations).

Sadly, this is the play’s most emotionally charged scene, if you don’t count the ending. The rage that Antoinette showed the audience did not surface again, at least not with the same intensity as the birth scene. The ending scene is to be noted though, because the dancers (may I call them dancers Jordan?) were… uhmmm… very… expressive. I still have regrets of not taking a photograph of that scene because it was… alluring. But as I have heard from the play’s most excellent playwright and read from the play souvenir/programme, it was not really the final scene. The final scene is in an asylum (Annette was captured by the police) where Annette and Antoinette confronts each other in a mental duel, as written in the programme (what? A mental duel? I would fork over more money to see that). This probably explains why the ending was so abrupt, like an anvil suddenly dropping from the heavens and conveniently ending the story. I was left precariously hanging. The birth scene promised something intense and yet, after the last scene, I was still waiting for the blow. So Jordan, you better give me a copy of the taped performance – I really have to see the true ending.

I went home shortly after the play and commuting home was a surreal experience. Thinking about it, the last time I went home from LaSalle Canlubang was a surreal experience too. It was probably the transition of the tree-lined avenues, vast grass covered plains and that ayala alabang feel (with the architecture minus the pollution and the poseurs) to grimy roads and neon shop lights. I almost envy Jordan for studying in LaSalle Canlubang. He is totally at home with the delicious food, the clean environment and the intellectual air that surrounds his friends. While I am here with the pollution, the dirt, food which makes you want to smoke instead and to the college (read: UST) which is densely populated by stupid people.

But what the hey, I live in the metropolis. This is where I belong. Damn.

From Rei, to Ken-zou

Ken-zou is wrong. I didn’t lose the light that is within me, I just can’t let it shine within me in the face of the abomination that I face now. For in my new “Big Responsibility”, as Ken-zou’s friend aptly called it, any sign of weakness will be criticized for many eyes are on me as I perform my responsibility. Some of my colleagues might and will find it cute to act weak and trigger the male population’s macho instincts and thus; making them fall to their spell and taking advantage of the males but I find such tactics despicable. I am sorry but Ken-zou, I will have to hide that light which you hold dear in your heart.

But you are slowly becoming your old self Ken-zou. That detached manner on which you speak, that frown and the emotionless way you look at me and almost everybody. What is happening to you? You don’t even talk to me like the old times. What has happened Ken-zou? -Rei

There's nothing like being stuck between two parties which have no desire to talk to each other. By the way, this big responsibility that everybody's talking about - I have given up on it. Nothing will change. It even might get worse as I don't trust "them". haha. (as usual, ken-zou and rei's names have been replaced to protect their privacy.)