3.14 x 8 turned sideways

i called you a holiday; a vacation that gets me high and excited.

i changed my mind.

forget it.

you’re no holiday. you’re no vacation.


to me, you are home.

thoughts of your presence make the 8 hour day job plus 4 hours of public transportation travel a breeze.

anticipation of your embrace calms the weary heart and soothes the fatigued soul.

the arms of your affection make me feel safe and secure.

thank you for welcoming me and making me feel accepted.

thank you for being that home that gives a warm, fuzzy feeling.

thank you for inspiring me and helping me along the way to accomplish my goals.

always remember that you have a heart that is brave and will always inspire people.

when i say i love you, i mean that i love everything about you- your body, your mind, your soul. i love every bit of cell in your being. i love and i embrace anything, even your demons, your apprehensions, your past, your present and your future. i love you and i am highly honored and grateful to have you.

i feel blessed because with you, it's not just a relationship. it's a commitment. that’s what makes whatever we share special. i am glad that with you, i chose to commit.

today marks the 10th month when i first received your essay. the essay that made my heart skip a beat.

this is not a monthly celebration of any sort.
this is a reminder of what i celebrate everyday- you.

i celebrate whatever we share together. i celebrate each day that i get to spend life with you.


i love you, robotiger.

notes on a pi day

today, me and my dad had our first conversation of the year.

we live on the same apartment.

i just don't feel like engaging in any conversation with him after we had an argument about some differences last year.

but today is a different day.

this morning, me and my dad talked about death, going back home and helping extended relatives.

there's something about having the topic of death as a breakfast that is illuminating.

you think about other people's deaths and then you relate death to yourself.

ceaselessness.

death: a period, maybe. but could also be a comma.

since most humans can't exactly tell when a person would die, then it's a good practice to live a life as if everyone around you could die the next minute. in that way, you live your life (almost) to the fullest.

what i am saying is, do what you think you have to do before the person's physical, emotional and mental form leaves earth.

say how you love them, you want them. say you're sorry. state forgiveness. state words of appreciation.

this morning did not teach me anything new.

it actually reminded me of a lot of things that i should be considering. things about life and death. things about meaningful conversations.

memoirs of an out of body experience #031112

after flying, soaring and leaping higher than john carter of mars, i think i would never be afraid of roller coasters again.

it was one hell of a journey last night. my mind still screams crazy trip to the outerspace and back to the realms of middle earth. oh boy do i remember things.

although time moved an hour forward, i still feel that i move faster.

time and space travel was possible last night. thanks to that small chunk of processed goodness that acted as a perfect panacea (though temporary) and elixir for the human body and soul.

i think the experience answers a lot of why’s from my consciousness. why people seek it, why people do it, why people becomes dependent to it, why some people don’t want themselves to be touched, why some people does not respond, why a lot of people would most likely do it again. yeah, i think most of the whys running surreptitiously under the small crevices of my consciousness have been put at ease.

the freakin’ chunk of processed goodness will take you to several levels of altered consciousness.
i know every individual reacts differently to it but last night, it possessed me slow.

it felt like it embraced my heart, made it feel warm and welcome, then climbed up my brain to anchor itself and to spread it’s thousands of tiny arms down my neck, to my shoulders, to my back, to my legs and to my feet. it’s an entity that divides and multiplies as it tries to assimilate your system.

when numbness arrived and bathed me with its cold embrace, i discovered that i could fly as high as i can ever imagine. it was a fleeting, non-stop ride. i swear by my altered consciousness that i have been to outer space, have seen the planets, have swam across a sea of clouds, have ridden the couch over mountains and hills, have seen and banished gandalf in a forest, have turned a plastic bag into a royal sword, and have pulled myself together into a really tiny being so that one can finally keep me into a safe place.

if the chunk of processed goodness is a monster, then it is a powerful one. it’s tricky because it makes you feel good and happy. and if sheryl crow will sing to you “if it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad” the whole time, it will drive you nuts.

honestly though, being in and out of various levels of altered consciousness feels amazing. amazing in the sense that anything is possible. in fact, i remember saying that was able to conjure that tangible signed object that i have been longing to have for quite some time.

one major point that i’ve realized though: laughing/happiness (if ever you can actually equate happiness with laughing) is painful. i remember laughing incessantly like my body feels like it has to give out a laugh or else i will explode, die or disappear. i remember laughing while crying. i was crying because i really don’t want to laugh but i feel like i have to. it’s like laughter, as a curse, have colonized my system. that’s like having laughter as a disease. i was laughing nonstop, like a maniac, but inside me i really don’t feel like laughing at all.

in any case, will i be back to those psychedelic bizaare worlds? maybe yes, maybe not.

if it takes away certain fears from my system then why not?

ripples

everyone’s a stranger until you meet them.

the strangeness of the situation slowly diffuses through time the moment you decide to engage in whatever form of relationship you want to engage with the person.

yeah, ripe

"put them inside the can. make sure it's covered well so they ripen faster."

that's my mom years ago telling me to put unripe philippine mangoes inside a full can of rice storage.

she, together with all my other superstitious relatives, thinks that placing mangoes in a tight storage can full of rice can make fruits ripe faster.

perhaps there is a high concentration of ethylene gas inside or maybe grains of rice speed up the ripening process. i actually don't know.

what i know is that fruits that are forced to ripe faster don't taste as good as the ones that ripe naturally.

i go natural.

if nature and all the other natural forces of this universe would all conspire to make the fruit ripe until 10,000 years, then so be it.

kutob, prerequisites

a simple yes or no would suffice to bring peace to the land.
***
a sage from an old land told me that it is easier to choose between good and evil rather than choosing between good and good.

what i see as an opportunity does not appear as such to this sage. everything that sage told me entails choices and a whole lot and fuckload of choices.
***

last year’s events of my life can be summed up in one word: choices.
***

well, who’s not making choices each day? here’s to me hoping that the each choice i make will be worth the opportunity cost it entails.
***

you gain, you lose.
thing is you can always choose to do something. or be something.
perhaps if i try hard enough, i may be able to get to my goals despite the great walls of challenges.

skin reading

i know a pen and paper can keep me sane during dire situations of my life.
with pen and paper, you’re god.

you create, you destroy, you give life, you are the boss of your realm.
you are the master of your immediate status quo.

i know writing could preserve the tiniest bit of my sanity just like this girl with a spider tattoo in front of me.

the spider hangs low on a thread of web tattoo that runs down her arm. it stops at a spot close to her wrist.

my mind interprets the signs: the clinging spider, the thread that runs down her arm- she must be a clingy person.

the girl wears a skin that looks like a sun-baked salmon. it’s pinkish but it’s brownish too.
on her lap is a medium sized camouflage messenger bag where she withdraws a 9 ½ x 11 ½ notebook
the notebook is covered in a black leathery material decorated with silver caricatures of spiked creatures.

on her side is an almost empty liter of water bottle.

a moss green cadet cap slightly tames her extremely dry and sticky hair. imagine cracking an egg to your head and have it dry out in the sun- that’s her hair.

her facial features resemble that of the late brittany murphy circa clueless days. i admit, the face is a factor that draws me into her. that makes her more interesting.

she is sobbing. she looks pretty high with something but definitely not cannabis. she doesn’t smell at all.

she’s dirty. like literally dirty.

she starts to write the moment the old guy acting and trying to look like steven tyler (who also offers her a place to stay the next night) left the train.

her fat, cursive penmanship reveals that she is trying to make her way back to new york. she is writing a letter for her bestfriend and is apologizing for being a shitty friend. she tells the bestfriend that she does not live on the same place anymore so there’s no need to send her letters on her old address.

“i am trying to make my way back but i don’t know where to start. please never tell anyone that i am lost.”

my mind answers back: “you’re not lost.”

i pull my coat sleeves up.

i summon a spider web shaped pattern from my memory and started to draw it on my wrist.
the pattern was lifted from the paper i got from my dad’s clenched fist when i found him lying on a scarlet pool from the apartment one night.

i always have the desire to have it tattooed on my wrist so i can always carry it with me but i fear that other people could easily see it.

for some reason, the pattern has helped me find my way whenever i feel lost. i rarely use it though. i don’t want people to see or notice that i don’t know what i am doing. i like to keep going. i like to keep moving so i feel like something is actually happening.

i think this girl’s spider could use my web today.

Couch Surfers Episode 5 (The Christian Scientist Guy)

Start your week with your dose of Couch Surfers Comedy

big jet plane

graphics metropolis featuring cody from Graphics Metropolis on Vimeo.
cody of photogenics

hair by shannon mason

styling by joe alimagno

hypeursentimentobia of a wind talker

there used to be a windtalker who thinks that he knows the ways of the wind until the day it turns into a whirlwind that took him in the middle of the woods.
the army of towering trees and the vast carpet of flora around him filtered and somehow changed the wind’s voice into a choir of unfamiliar whistles, blows and whispers.
although he can understand and translate a tune or two, most parts of the ensemble are foreign to him. it’s like something that is warm and cold at the same time. it is something that calms his nerves but also makes his heart beat like a crazy jungle drum.

the windtalker’s heartbeat grows louder and louder together with the wind’s fresh piece of choral ensemble. he dared not to talk as he closed his eyes and feel the raging drumming of his heart. it is gaining more loudness as each beat shakes the ground and disrupt the nearby creatures hibernating.

BOOM. A louder different kind of BOOM. BOOM. BOOMBOOM. BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM and a series of nonstop rapid booming beats from the windtalker’s heart echoes on the woods as if it’s communicating with the wind.

BOOM! the last beat that marks finale.

then the windtalker speaks to the wind. finally, he speaks what he have been meaning to say. he speaks despite being unsure whether the wind may understand him or not.

the wind, being an older creature of the universe, knows the windtalker’s language.

after the windtalker’s speech, the wind blows to the opposite direction.

everything stood still.

the anakin syndrome

today, like most days, the man that used to like the smoke becomes a child that hates it.

although the smoke provided the man a sense of protection by concealing all things (tangible and intangible) that are embarrassing and shameful to share, it gives the child an all encompassing blanket of fear.

for the child, the smoke snatches things away, taking them into a realm that is far from his senses' reach.

perhaps the child's experiences with the vanishing acts involving smoke made him develop this kind of fear.

but since most of the time the man and the child is almost the same, balance prevails.

**********************
yoda echoes on the background:
fear leads to anger
anger leads to hate
hate leads to suffering
suffering leads to destruction

eights

before you say yes to a person who tells you that he/she wants to keep you, consider the following:

1. is the person a collector?
2. does the person know how to take care of his possessions?
3. do you think the person values his/her possessions?
4. do you think you will be an important and exclusive?
5. how does the person handle his/her trash?
6. how much does he/she willing to sacrifice in order to keep you?
7. where will you be kept? will you survive? can you breathe?
8. how long do you think the person can keep you?

Liliana's shoot last weekend

Graphics Metropolis featuring Liliana from Graphics Metropolis on Vimeo.
Model: Liliana Alam / http://cacaoethescribendi.wordpress.com/
Hair: Tokiko Inoue
Make-up: Aimi Osada

http://www.graphicsmetropolis.com

http://www.facebook.com/graphicsmetro

Smuggling Canadians- Couch Surfers Episode 3 for the LOL

below is the third episode from the new comedy webseries Couch Surfers featuring my friends:

on this episode, the surfers got themselves tangled up with the whole crossing the border shenanigans involving other people. watch it and enjoy! :)

2012's first time LOL time- COUCH SURFERS

Check this out!

New comedy webseries COUCHSURFERS featuring the awesome Chase Green.

Some friends are also involved in this production.

They will release a new episode each week so follow their channel on youtube and on other social networks. :)

I also get the opportunity to take production stills for this hilariously LOLable show.

The Surfers stay with Micah, a man determined to be the first male cheerleader in the NFL.

Written & Directed by
SEAN MIER

Produced by
STUART ARBURY
KATIE CETTIE
JOSEPH McPHILLIPS
SEAN MIER

Created by
SEAN MIER

Starring
CLINT CARMICHAEL as Armen
KELSEY GLASSER as Shelby
CHASE GREEN as Travis
JAKE LOPEZ as Jake

Guest Starring
CHONI FRANCIS as Micah

Featuring
ELIZA KISS as Head Cheerleader
JAKE BROWN as Male Administrator
ALEX MARSHALL-BROWN as Cheerleader #1
CAROLE JONES as Cheerleader #2
TATYANA PESHKO as Cheerleader #3
KATIE CETTIE as Sound Guy

Director of Photography
SEAN MIER

Editor
BRENDAN MERRILL

Music Composed by
DAVID ARBURY

Music Supervisor
LARRY MALINCONICO

Assistant Director.....JOSEPH McPHILLIPS
Audio Mixer.....JASON DAVIS
Visual Effects.....NEIL CRAIG
Set VFX Advisor.....JASON DAVIS
Main Title Theme by.....DAVID ARBURY with CARLETON INGRAM

Special Thanks
LAUREN CORRY
CHONI FRANCIS
IRVIN RIVERA
BERNIE WALKER

© 2012. Wolf Knife Productions. All Rights Reserved.

sangria

it's about putting your weight on the right foot to keep your balance as the train move towards the north.

zombie at bed

at 430 a quick four point something magnitude of tremor snatched me from slumber.

the ten layers of mattresses made from dreams, fear, hopes and expectations were rearranged but they still remain under me.

it was waking up but also like dreaming at the same time; like dreaming about being awake while you are actually awake.

i was awake but i remembered my dream about a plane crashing in an empty field in front of me.

the feeling was like watching a kubrick film while you're either drunk or on crack- everything becomes trippy, slightly psychedelic, and more artsy.

the bed is essentially a kind of pedestal without steps. for some reason, the universe put me there while i am sedated with tablets that erase memory temporarily.

by the way, the high rise bed is situated in the middle of a rice field. it was usually nice at night.

it’s so nice you can actually think of blowing up the stars you named after yourselves when you used to be intoxicated with overwhelming emotional chemical reactions.

jaded stone(d)

is like being confined in a dark working environment with no proper ventialtion and air conditioning.
where hell is present in both winter and summer.

is like hanging on a thread of hope over stalagmites developed from tears of fear, melted hopes, and crushed expectations.
where salvation slowly diffuses into the graveyard of dead words and languages.

is like drinking coffee mixed with oatmeal and dark chocolate coated espresso beans at 12 noon.
where the body zombie neurons start to invade the large regions of the brain, making the body feel more lethargic after each tick of the clock.

regina spektor can kiss my sores away

if my tongue is a leg it is now experiencing elephantiasis
from the repressed
elements that
failed to translate into words.

it wallows in listerine with salt and lime solution as
it tries to run away from the nerve shackles
out into the oneiric wild
to that constantly running
state of peaceblisshappiness. 

YOU BETTER WATCH THIS IN 3D!

just saw pina a few days ago from the AFI Fest 2011.
you have to see this masterpiece made in more than 20 years to get your own experience.
it left me and my partner literally breathless as we watch the full of heart, emotional, powerful, and fragile choreography of pina bausch being translated into the screen in 3d. pina is a performance that will leave you in awe.

-------
Pina (Germany/2011)
tanzt, tanzt sonst sind wir verloren
(dance, dance otherwise we are lost)
Directed by Wim Wenders