signs

last night i had a vision. it was one of those visions that i could clearly recall after my recovery from drowning over the purgatory of dream and nightmare. no. it was nothing like one of those apocalyptic visions i had before. it was more disturbing, postmodern, and devastating to the health of the mind.

i saw britney spears and paris hilton making out in a steamy parking lot. yes. they were engaged in a tongue fight; a tongue fight so intense that the strands of their blonde crowns as the queens of controversy and fame were tangled in knots as an accent to their unison. their sweat swims in the undulating waves of their bodies as one breathes the breath of the other. the valleys of their chest bang each other as if rocked by a high intensity tremor.

it was steamy. don’t ask me for details. it was disturbing; the copulation of the material girls, the consummation of two negative forces, the end of the world. it must be a sign. who knows. this blog entry might prevent that to happen in the future.


and oh, britney would tell paris “i love you baby” whenever she found the chance.


now pardon me if ever you hear me singing this song all week long:
“and oh, my dreams, it's never quite as it seems,
never quite as it seems.”

lord of the warehouse

3:00 pm- i look over my kingdom of boxes as the wind outside howls in syncopation with my yawn.

from the pulpit of my office, i command my army with a stare that tells them to speak, but none of them would comply.
at first i thought it is because of the lack of sinister glow in my eyes, but i suppose it is because of the young spirit of my presence in my kingdom that hinders the power of my command.

the boxes are boring. all they do is sit there on top of each other while throwing blank stares at you. they will not talk of course. their mouths are repressed with straps of packaging tapes and ropes to keep them from spilling the secrets of the clothes they cage inside.

aside from the hagrid-looking (sans the great beard) fellow who guards the door, the two mid-east asian moguls, and the soft spoken kababayan, nothing else breathes a language that can communicate with you. the walls are plastered with silence and the floors are carpeted with the rules of the place.

the basketball-court sized kingdom will gauge the effectiveness of my rule for the next couple of years.

i am entitled to ensure the safety of the clothes, the pants and the jackets in the kingdom, i have to establish great relations with the neighboring kingdoms as well as those kingdoms on the other side of the world, and i have to manage all of the treasures as well- these are some of my challenges as a lord without a lady.

age like wine

you can tell you’re getting old if you gradually lose faith in people.

i’ve noticed this in people who seemed intoxicated with the spirit of desperation and are leaning on the verge of distrust even on themselves.

you’ll know you’re old when you become extra sensitive to the whispers of the world rather than the whispers of your soul.

you tend to see life with apocalyptic visions as a prelude to your distant meeting with death.

when you feel that each tick of the clock cuts a meter from the thread of your patience, you are probably old.

i knew these things not because of my age, but because i have lived with many old people since birth that i learned how to detect the first wrinkles of old age in a person.

take my dad for example. he would cloak the scratches of old age by taking refuge in strategy and role playing games such as command and conquer and the battle for middle earth. i believe he takes pleasure in reminiscing the glory of his military days by commanding troops and conquering computer-generated kingdoms.

he is old. he has been old since the days of the military coup in the 90’s. he has been old since my mom left abroad. he has been old since he failed to hear the voices of his children.

age is relative. i always tell this to my friends who would rant about their age. age is nothing but an arbitrary sign imposed by the society to limit and determine a person’s growth and maturity. your hair could have grown white but you still have the heart and the aura of an adventurous person. you may just be in high school but you are already under the spell of paranoia.

anyways, what you associate with old age is just a matter of perspective.
old age is not at all about losing faith in people, being paranoid and being impatient. old age could also be associated with maturity, wisdom and strength of character.

how you view old age is like drinking wine. when you drink too much of it, you become intoxicated with it, but when you have just the right amount of it, you feel better and it becomes beneficial to you.

it’s just sad that most people i see are intoxicated with the spirit of old age.

______________
image from: http://www.sphitbhraht.multiply.com

subway

malaya kang makapipili ng upuan
kung saan kakindatan mo ang mga ilaw
na sumisilip sa bintana sa bawat kisapmata

malaya kang makakapag-isip
kung saan kakampi mo ang hangin
na tumatakip sa iyong tenga
mula sa sigawan sa lupa

malaya kang makakakaway sa kawalan
kung saan kaangkas mo ang daan-daang kaluluwa
sa libingang umaandar at nangangakong
maghahatid sa inaasam na hantungan

formaldehyde

as the night painted clouds of great dreams, plans and what-should-have-beens on my mind,
i summon morpheus to protect my memory from the corroding rust of time for i know that this inevitable spell of nature could only be salvaged effectively by very few means.
though i often resort to writing to preserve my thoughts, the multitude known and unknown avenues of my consciousness require more than pen and paper to bear its imprints.

keeping a blog is one. having genuine friends is another

shower

today i officially declare the bathroom as my sanctuary.

each crevice that cradles the molds and the mildews shares a space with my secrets, my washed away depressions, my daydreams, and my hopes.

my daily bath session is a ritual not just to rinse my body, but to cleanse my soul as well. the downpour from the shower never fails to provide a rhythm that puts you in a state of elation where everything is possible. it is always a sacred moment where i get to meet the muses and bathe with them in the sea of ideas and visions. each act of rubbing and scrubbing of the skin not only clears the clogged pores but also breathes a new atmosphere of peace that fills the mind.

i always enjoy the pleasures of spilling the juices of my secrets, my passion, my rants, and my raves inside my sanctuary. it is always an easy route to a split-second of ecstasy where there is a force of neither repression nor apprehension present. i love how i can pour tears, sweat, piss, cum, sweat, words and dreams to the bathroom walls and floor without the slightest fear of being judged.

shower is my daily fifteen minutes of peace.
i considered that light feeling of being stripped of my masks as a privilege i can only get from the solemn solitary confines of my sanctuary.

hapibdaymark

tonight i am a stallion whose stream is a mixture of bacardi, chardonnay, hennessey and steak oil.

as i listen to the steady pouring of my stream to oblivion, i suddenly miss my drinking buddies in the philippines. my orgmates, my college batchmates, my former roommates, my blogmates (rens, moses, aaron, jhed l.a., shari, joe and others). this is the first time i’ve had the warmth of alcohol caress my throat since i came to this country of extreme diversities.

i hate how my father turned out as a bank of great stories. he had his ample share of stories from his early life to his adventurous adolescent life to his heroic military life. (i will share some of those with you sometime.) he is the type of storyteller who not just takes you to his past, but shows you and makes you feel what happens to him and his society back then. i find it inspiring to listen to his stories. he is such an individual blessed with the power to cast a disillusioned charm to make you forget his shortcomings.

i’d love to caress this warm feeling haunting my heart tonight. it helps to keep me sober despite the floating feeling of oblivion dominating my consciousness.

curse not

kadiby (not her real name) is a cursed individual, and so are you.
minus the glasses, her aura frequently reminds me of betty in the popular colombian series betty la fea. she snorts when she laughs, she rarely combs her hair and she wears braces. beware. every guy she brands as her crush eventually turns out to be a guy lover.

you don’t want to see her in her lunatic state whenever she discovers the tragic demise of her crush’s manhood. she would sporadically throw curses at anybody as if everyone was a spawn of the devil who destroyed the manhood of her crush with its fork. that’s her curse. she was cursed by an unknown entity to make her every crush gay. it was not her fault. each person born in this world was equipped with a curse whose purpose is either to annoy you, challenge you, or teach you a lesson.

ms fi, my former officemate, never fails to share with us the power of her curse. she told us that she acquired her curse back in her youth when she said she accidentally wiped the tears she saw on her grandmother as it rest on the coffin. since then, each curse she cast on anybody comes to life. it was as if she became an instant messenger of death. all of her death wishes came true. her image of whispering curses to the wind (whether consciously or subconsciously) still freaks the hell out of me. imagine a morena cruella de vil in a short bob whispering curses to the wind, that’s her. well, i never feared her because of that. just don’t mess with her when you see her and you’ll be fine. you can hear no curse from her.

anticipating budding conflicts and having dreams of dying people you don’t know in real life are just some of my curses. i don’t know when this keen sense of seeing, smelling and feeling of conflicts starts. but whenever i sense one, i try to worry too much, worse, i fear about the unknown consequences of it. having dreams on the verge of being apocalyptic (i have dreamt about an uber advanced world war where i am one of the survivors, takings snaps of the devastation) strips the sanity in me. this curse of worrying about the unknown is worse because it points to me rather than to others.

kadiby’s curse made her write great and effective stories and essays, ms fi’s gave her an unstable love life ever since she started cursing and blessed her with a mentally challenged daughter. my curse, on the otherhand, does not manifest any sign of it’s repercussions except from the fact that it occasionally makes me wonder about the uncertain future. but i believe in faith over fear. i have high hopes that one day, it will dawn to me how to use my curse for the greater good of humanity.

dear aquarius monkey

just take it this way, the more he yells and screams and strips the hell out your ego like a mad tyrant suffering from andropose, the more he loves you. i remembered he told me that back when i was young. you have to understand that he has developed his primary basis for showing care and affection in inflicting pain. for twenty one or more years, he has unconsciously cultivated his habit of throwing you reverse psychological and mental attacks to show you his love and affection.



i envy you. seriously. i envy you for thousands of reasons. for one, he really wanted you to get well, he wanted you to act well, and to have a life far better from what he had. another thing, you don’t sow grudges in your heart. i admire you for that. as i have observed you over the years, you could easily reconcile your emotions and your relationship with him after hours of lashing you with his verbal litany.



don’t get mad at him. he never pinned you at the wall yet has he? he never threatened to cut your fingers when you were young, he never punched you in the face, he never slapped both your cheeks the night before you go to school, he never ripped your clothes off yet (to emphasize your dependence on him), he never bitchslap your ass with all varieties of belts (from the buckled military types to the hardest leather you can imagine), he never force-fed you with a master bowl of rice plus viand, he never accused you of being a drug addict, he never told you to walk in tears plus bruises plus scratches in the middle of the street to his hell-turned office to grill you till the verge of mental retardation, he never went that extreme to you yet. well, physically that is.



i’m sorry about what happened. trust me, i know how his verbal thrusts in your heart and mind could be more painful from any physical pain he inflicted on me. his verbal assaults directly enter the mind through your ears, through your pores, and through your senses. it instantly penetrates your bloodstream and affects your system. it was way different from receiving punches from him, since my ribcage, my veins, my skin, my muscles and my arms could protect my heart.



take it as a challenge. you have to grow up in wisdom. make not your age the basis of your maturity. it is only a trivial element used to limit your capacity. you are more than what you think you are. so rise now. get yourself up from self pity, and never wallow on the enticing negative atmosphere around you.

it’s time to wake up, dear aquarius monkey. he just wanted the best for you. i do want all great things for you. but you have to know that it’s not enough getting support from people around you. you should never be contented with your comforts, but rather try your best to always strive for something new for your personal growth.

take care, always. you are loved.



gemini tiger

meet maraka

aps, thanks for sharing me this video.
this made my day.

isang daan

isang daang taong pagsisilbi sa bayan

isang daang taon ng kagitingan

ginising ang ating puso’t isipan

mula sa pagkakatulog ng kamalayan

chorus

isang daan tungo sa karunungan

isang daan tungo sa kagalingan

daan na tinuro ng ating pamantasang hirang

inilaan para sa’ting mga anak ng bayan

(same chords as stanza 1)
dumating man ang hangin ng pagbabago
iskolar, huwag patitinag itaas ang kamao
kasing lawak at ‘sing taas ng langit
ang abot ng isipan mo

(repeat chorus)

magbago man ang panahon

pamantasan nati’y ‘di patatalo

iskolar ng bayan noon at ngayon

laging angat sa iba


isang daan tungo sa karunungan

isang daan tungo sa kagalingan

isang daan tungo sa karunungan

isang daan tungo sa kagalingan

(repeat chorus)
_____________________
music and lyrics by ms angelica dayao
sung by jo sena and ades crisanto

back to dreamland

the first flicker of light that hit my eyes was a reflection from the teardrop crystal lamps from the high ceilings of the structure. i woke up and found myself in the midst of towering pillars bathed in gold and shining pieces of ruby. on the front i saw an elevated seat cradling a king cloaked by the weariness of time. the seat is positioned on an accordion-like mechanical lift that could increase the seat’s elevation up to the ceiling. to his side rest his queen who looks like alyssa milano, only more voluptuous and bright with her posture and stance. the queen spoke of her discontent about certain structures built. i saw the king gave his forehead a massage as his queen rants over building structures.

lately i have been dreaming of castles and large structures. i dream of the archetypal castles with proud turrets and high ceilings. just the other night, i dream of an unfinished castle, big, and situated among the bushes, as if waiting to be built, and constructed to its fullest form.

over the past few days, my dreamworld is haunted by various places with large spaces. i see high ceilings, large structures, and wide areas of land lying before my eyes.

this could be a start of something big, something to conquer, something to build.

the expense of space

regardless of whatever thousand reasons you may have to move out, it will always be expensive. trust me, add five more years to my life and i will be a veteran in moving out. since birth, i have lived on 15 houses (apartments and dormitories included) and will be living on a new space anytime soon.

it has never been easy for me from the start. there’s so much packing, unpacking, repacking, throwing, cutting, shredding, and weighing of relationships, emotions, attachments, friendships, memories, toys, books, clothes and other major necessities that you have. but as we do the packing, unpacking, repacking, throwing, cutting, shredding, and weighing more often, i have taught myself to get used with it and eventually bring nothing but the essentials on each place i go.

aside from the resource slashing bills to pay, you have to develop a keen sense of socialization and adaptation to the diverse culture, ethnicity, ideologies and beliefs of the community around you. it requires much effort to be a chameleon while moving out in the various jungles of life. you have to be a mutated chameleon with the eyes of an eagle, the claws of a lion, and the charm of a peacock.

having a new space means you having a new place to conquer, a new realm to explore, and a new dimension to influence. i always find it exciting to move out, simply because i view it as one way of moving on. moving out in a new space takes you out of your usual comfort zone and places you in an unfamiliar road for you to travel. what happens next is all dependent on your choices and actions.

i still look forward to that day when i could have my own space, free from the shackles of any rules, ideologies, responsibilities and obligations. i know i have more places to go. i still have high hopes of setting my foot around the globe before i rest on the day of my death.

my man

now i think i am at the right age and at the right time to share with you my relationship with this person that i have been keeping deep in the abyss of my consciousness.

he is the type of person you’ll hate to love, for he will be an enigma to you. his unpredictable nature would keep you wondering what’s running on his mind, and what’s pumping on his heart. he is a living proof that even opposite signs like cancer and gemini can be compatible, at times, with each other.

we rarely fight. he would always confront me with my social drinking patterns and my post-teen activities, but i rarely fight back; not directly that is. i am confrontational with most of the matters i face in my life, but not with him. he seemed to suck out the soul of the tiger in me.

his presence makes my heart gallop a notch higher, making me release an army of sweat beads from my skin. his voice sends waves of shivering sensation in my system as it lingers to the walls of my memory. he is the kind of being that would leave a part of him with you whenever you go.

he constantly cooks to keep me from hunger, he constantly calls to take me away from boredom and he constantly talks to remind me of my duties to him, to my family, and to the people. he likes to talk, and when he does, he wants me to engage myself with him else he gets pissed. though he wouldn’t admit it, he is possessive. he gets mad if i get out a lot with girls. he gets madder if i engage in a happy session with my guy friends. i know he just wanted the best for my interest, but he should learn to show it in a more compassionate way.

i broke away from him several times. maybe because of my rebellious side, but i like to think of it as breaking away from the shackles of his rules and regulations. i moved out, tried new environments, but i would still end up knocking on his door. the charm of his sporadic expressions of affection would magnet you back to his arms despite his faults.

hearing that he is right creates music to his ears. his infallible principles are his tools in capturing anybody’s heart. he is everybody’s man. i don’t really bother. i am anybody’s guy. i like it when he confides to me his weaknesses. those are rare moments when he puts down his armor of an ego and admits that he is an imperfect being, susceptible to pain and faults.

he is one of the most influential persons in my life. the universe knows my gratitude for having him. he protects me, he serves me, he cares for me, and he fights for me. he is a soldier.
he is married to my mom.

in the year of the rat

risin' up, back on the street
did my time, took my chances
went the distance, now i'm back on my feet
just a man and his will to survive




so many times, it happens too fast
you change your passion for glory
don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past
you must fight just to keep them alive


it's the eye of the tiger, it's the cream of the fight
risin' up to the challenge of our rival
and the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
and he's watchin' us all in the eye of the tiger

__________
video clip from the graphic novel-turned animated movie persepolis by marjane satrapi

song: eye of the tiger, rendered by chiara mastroianni

italicized lyrics lifted from the song - eye of the tiger by the survivors, track #1 at the eye of the tiger album released last march 1982

to you oblivious creature baptized with the name that starts with the letter a

may you be happy this new year!

bear in mind that not all people can (and will try to) understand you all the time.

the universe will live and evolve even without your existence.

your power to ignite sparks of annoyance to the persons around you could backfire anytime.

learn to appreciate whatever you have.


may you rest in peace with all your material properties,


i wish you peace.


amen