castaways and cutouts

What I thought would have made me happy a few years ago, doesn't hold true for me now. I'm still looking for it though, it's quite difficult, to be having a wild sheep chase all the time. The truth is, it's so much easier to close your eyes and count them in your head.

11/02/09

------------------------

a little soul searching to honor all soul's day (used in an entirely different context hehe) :]

by the way haruki murakami has a new book, entitled: '1Q84.' Hasn't been translated into english yet, but extremely hoping it'll be released in english by Christmas. :]

dancing til my limbs disjointed

and flung from my body

ripped like rag dolls

my legs here my arms there

my lungs inflated ballooned into the air

my heart gone

my head elsewhere

but I’m starting to feel

my soul everywhere

- 10/18/09

don't know if the title fits, but I couldn't think of one. Just remembered a haruki book of the same title. Picture from the movie: Into the wild. Love it. Love the book too :]

---------------------

* Nina this is the result of pagkababad sa harap ng tumblr buong sunday haha. Thanks :]

-Lust-

The first night I gave in

To you I was so nervous

You so eager pulling me by my shoulders bare

I let myself wash

Over the moment to swallow the fear

Of pain more physical than emotional

Feeling more empty afterwards

I knew it wasn’t love

-september 7,2009

My goodness, its been a long time since I’ve written anything. Don’t know if I’m rusty or not. Forget revalida, I want to write first. I’ll worry about that later. Who knows I may write an ode for it in the future hahaha.

The picture I put in is an album art from The Raveonettes, was suppose to put in the first picture of lust I could find on google, but it seemed a bit to ‘lusty’ for me. Is that even a word? Anyway, the album art would do fine, don’t really listen to this band but I like the song Dead Sound.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BRnBQjaas3s (just in case you want to listen)

Whenever I try thinking I want to be a writer, it makes me think, what does it really mean to be one? I thought of wanting to be a novelist, and earning a living through that, but then whenever I start thinking of the entire process of showing your work, attending workshops, it just seems too bothersome (and a bit showy), because it seems that I just want to write, for the sake of writing, maybe it sounds poetic, but I really don’t intend it to be that way. Maybe, a few lines here and there, and anything that honestly pops into my head that doesn’t come in line with the practical, and realistic thoughts I should be thinking. So for now, I’m resigning my dream of doing that, and honestly focusing my energy now on being a student. I think that has been preoccupying my thoughts for the ordinary student’s summer, since these are the kind of thoughts that preoccupy me whenever you don’t see me in school. It sounds strange and if you look at it, a lazy person, whose head is always far off, but honestly it’s been mind numbing work. I just want to attribute it to the very poor revalida scores I’ve got. Maybe I just want to blame something apart from my own laziness, and make it (contemplating instead of studying) as something as important. Now, that school is officially at kick-start along with the rest of young-uns, it seems that I ‘should’ be at full track, and it makes me sad to say, that split half off me will be gone for the mean time, the half that longs to be separated from the repetitive thoughts of the world, call me old soul, or whatever deigns appropriate in your vernacular. I’m off, I’m not relinquishing old habits. Just extremely hoping I’ll be more focused in school. For now, letting go of reading novels, but hey whenever I’ve absconded with a textbook, a good novel comes (or is it the other way around?) appearing on the shelves. I can’t stop it!

By the way reading a good novel makes me feel that things are alright with the world, weird I know, but things feel a bit less chaotic, like a good thing is maintained despite all the frustrations, and headaches around me; and I live a really uncomplicated life!

Hmmm…maybe I just need a love life. A sort of cohesive distraction. In short, this is me saying: I want to be in love (not I want to fall in love, which I think is a completely different thing.)

Enough of confessions.

Getting to know myself confuses the hell out of me.

Sorry if you’ve read this, I’ve taken up your time, making pointless realizations of myself.

I’ve thought of whether posting this or not, but the hour is late, and I want to resurrect my blog. Peace :]

(maybe when I'm too embarassed of my 'realizations,' I'll put it down. But it's honestly comforting to be able to put it up on the internet with the assumption that people will likely forget ever reading it). Goodnight! 

I had once again attempted to exercise, since my parent’s room now looks like a gym, on one corner you have a treadmill, beside it a sit-up machine, or a board that aids in giving out very difficult sit ups as it is shaped like the half of a bridge, I didn’t even know that they had machines for sit ups. Around the room are dumbbells if you happen to be happy and start prancing into the room, luckily you’ll stub your toe on one of them, of course this is an exaggeration, but there are really dumbbells around the room, and even two in the CR, that act as a doorstopper. Thankfully on cold days the air circulates and out goes out the oh-so-lovely sweat smell. If I said I started working out again, this is not true since I’ve never really done this regularly, but it does sound better. After performing a fair number of attempts I’ll look into the mirror and lift my shirt. Yup, very macho. Although it’s not very evident, my body aches heavily, and pressing down under my ribs hurt very much, laughing is even more painful. On another note, I watched Shopaholic instead of Watchmen, and I really don’t know if I missed out on a lot since the most striking comment I’ve heard is that they have a terrible soundtrack. Should I watch this next time or you changed my life?... hmm dilemma?

I know that this is a mini-vacation, and not exactly the brief encounter of adventure I picutred in my head. And I know this is only the first week, hope something more exciting comes up soon! Time is running out, waah mg-iintern na din tayo!!! :]

I’ve been denying this ugly truth for months, even when fact starred me right in the face from under my feet, denoted in numerals the ticker’s weighing scale swishing back and forth, please God hope it goes more to the west. So when post-noche-buena-media, family reunion rolled around I’d fill in my head the disillusionment that when school comes stress will make me sexier. This in fact is not true, for me at most, since stress made me fatter this year and secondly, when I’m stressed it turns into depression and when I’m depressed I’ll eat, knowing that eating will make me chubbier will make me even more depressed and it will turn into this downward spiral. Wait, it’s really not that complicated, in fact I’m making it more complicated than it should be, and this habit that other people impose only make me annoyed. So then, I guess I’m being a hypocrite. Back on topic, I pulled out a long sleeved white shirt, stale smelling from my cabinet, it was extremely cold, and pulled it over my head, and found that once worn on my body, wrapped around every extra expanse of fat my skin was able to wrap around. Funnily enough, the shirt was from a very old collection of balikbayan box with glitters, it read in the front: Phi Beta Cutie. This will probably be the premise of 2009. Welcome.

I love writing poems. It takes only a few minutes of your time, you get to speculate and people start thinking your a romantic. Personally, the reasons I love writing poetry: First, because you can string words into phrases that somehow sound great, but in reality does not seem remotely seamless… (try reading that again, that sentence actually made no sense) and secondly, the seamless does actually mean nothing at all, or so do readers would like to think. Some actually mean something, while others are ramblings which do tend to mean something but actually don’t. I wonder when they’re going to create a term for that, since I know people who do sound like that. If in the case the word was already created, let me know. I do love swallowing words among other things. (Again this is where you put in the undefined term.) One thing though, I do sometimes contradict myself, an annoying habit when I’m in the mood to write. F*** it, I’m getting a headache. I should stop writing at this unholy hour.

By the way I don't like reading poetry as much as I like writing it. Weird.

I'm off, goodnight :)

RULES <- at may nalalaman pang rules, rules hehehe. :]

Tagged by: nina

1. Each blogger starts with 10 random facts/habits about themselves.
2. Bloggers who are tagged need to blog about their own 10 random facts/habits
3. At the end of your blog, tag 5 people and list their name.
4. Don't forget to leave them a comment and tell them that they've been tagged and to read your blog

10 random facts/habits

1. I think I have color agnosia, or my friends say… (agnosia-loss of ability to recognize object/smell/sound/person/shape)

2. I am afraid of the cartoon: felix the cat or the animated movie: the triplets of Belleville

3. growing up I never liked pop, the first genre of music I fell in love with was celtic haha

4. I want to try hitchhiking

5. my favourite poem is lewis carroll’s the hunting of the snark

6. I really want to learn how to play a weird instrument like an accordion/bouzouki/moog/glockienspiel/Wurlitzer (because these are the instruments one of my favourite bands can play... and I think that's pretty amazing)

7. I can’t fully squat for a long period of time, because I tend to fall over

8. There was a time I became extremely addicted to haruki murakami works, that it became the only author I read and I thought other works were mediocre (I stopped when someone told me that’s bad, I also ran out of murakami material to read haha... i became a literary snob)

9. I like stuff toys, but I don’t like the idea of liking stuff toys (I contradict myself)

10. the most bizarre thing I’ve seen is a store with a rotisserie, and the sign above it claiming it’s an ob-gyne clinic.

Now I tag:

1. france
2. ivan
3. pat
4. cathy
5. paola

 *inisip k mga taong ng bblog e. Peace :]

ok. this is it. time to update all vacation's worth laziness in one blog. I'm a procrastinator, lately I'm becoming one so i'll try to squeeze in all things I can remember from the very unremarkable memorable things this sembreak has left me with. whew, that was a mouthful. i'm actually trying to type continously without thinking of what to type next haha. so here it goes, so far the most exciting thing that happened to me this vacation was the cubao x visit, which was a costume party and I decided to come in a viking costume (we did hunt for costumes, and almost ended up buying a children's witch costume which claimed it was for all sizes, not true... and a funky wig ala-sweeney todd style) in the end I did end up buying a witch costume which consisted of a very tiny hat and very tiny cape with neon orange borders. By the way, I did not end up wearing that, money well spent!... Instead, my sister borrowed a viking costume from our cousin, complete outfit of helmet, axe, boots, dress with matching arm bands? not sure what it was or even if it was worn at the wrists. Waited for nina's friends at gateway mall and had coffee and ensymada delicious!...then headed to cubao x at around 8 or 9? doesn't matter what time though. When we arrived there, we surveyed the place (looked at the crowd) some had the guts to wear a costume, we just chickened out. The real reason we were at cubao x was because * was looking for * (* this is to protect * from embarassment). Checked out the band, good music. Checked out the shops, funky shops.. Music was played at turntables, and dusty vinyls in boxes which started looking like crates. We were looking around the shop when the owner said "wanna go up?" we were the only costumers at that time. Yes, we were wary, but we were also fearless and proceeded go behind the wall through a black curtain and up the stairs. No, nothing bad happened to us, just more items for sale and very shocking prices. The owner talked to us, and gave us free post cards. What a nice guy. Actually in most shops we entered, people were surprisingly friendly, you'd expect that people there were "feeling-artist types" who'd turn their nose up at you if you mentioned gossip girl but they were very accomodating. We did enter an art gallery. The owner also said "wanna go up?" haha anyway, great day, good art. Though, I did talk to someone drunk, coherently drunk. He also claimed it was his birthday on a certain day, he was in fact telling the truth, haha. As it was getting late, wow that was a really terrible line... as the night wore on haha, even more terrible... we looked around at books displayed on the sidewalk and in suitcases, store justifyingly called "bookay-ukay" how clever. I did end up buying a h. murakami book, bargain price. Nina bought an interactive-porno book, excellent bargain!!! it's not as dirty as it may seem, found in the suitcase of course. As I was paying, I looked around and tadah: mama was there to pick us up (papa was outside). I love my mama nd papa haha, she told us she brought us back pasalubong from hong kong, and said she bought a decemberists cd for me. YAY! a dream come true! rarely do I find my actions preceding my thoughts, but in this case it deserved a hug. I don't hug, but in this case. YAY!... maybe it was all the strange, surreal, wonderfully unexpected events that day but it's one of the most lovely (seems more fitting) not perfect, lovely days I've had in a long time. Great music, wonderful sights, excellent bargains, good company. Indeed, it's the high-light of this very short-lived vacation.

I don't think anything exciting will happen these coming days. So I guess this is it. The last entry before... I dare not say it ***ool starts (it's a dirty word haha). Other things I've discovered/done/happened:

* revisited my passion for coffee/literature/carnivale tv show/music/arts.

-seen, touched, and played an accordion (not dirty). a private dream of mine, since it just seems too weird to admit

-bought perfecty symmetry (finally!)

-i did not write any new story/finished one this vacation (word program is broken, very frustrating). Although, did have the guts to post one up.

-learned how to commute (i love it!)

-rode a bike (still crappy at turning)

-consigned myself to sleeping late and waking late (of course, the midnight snacks were a benefit)

-and found two quotes I found inspiring/moving: "because I was alone. Even the mundane seemed charged with meaning."-jon kraukauer "consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative"-oscar wilde

... the photo escapades are on nina's site, fully documented, and proud of it.

goodbye vacation. i'll miss you.

Wrote this a few months ago, when the reality of living a humdrum possessed life of being a PT student begun to sink in. I became bored. I became depressed. I started writng. I had written about 4 pages of a story going nowhere between intermittent bouts of studying (yes, I think studying is an illness, I realized it this vacation) when my sister introduced me to the existence of another genre: flash fiction, shorter than a short story and not limited by any definition. Probably, more of ramblings with form. Although, some do argue that there should be punch at the ending, like an 'oh' moment, where the reader actually, literally nods at the screen saying 'oh.'

What I had written I later found out is more aptly named micro-fiction, containing 500 words or less. This was also around the time I was obsessed with david foster wallace and his very long unecessary but fun to read titles. So here you go:

__________________________________________________________

Concerning balloons and the thing that keeps them up

A lilt thing occupied the confines of my head, and since I think it smaller than the average man’s it gave a resounding ping whenever it hit against my ear. The thing that bounced, deflected, jumped, or somehow managed to zoom about jangled me, as much as the concept of what it was. So my first thought was: it must have been a thought, a preconceived notion of an idea, which has not been born yet, urging to be cut from the unconscious to the living breathing world of uttered consciousness. An artery to an umbilical cord to a navel, it simply sprouts or in this case becomes inadvertently an inverted tip of an inflated balloon. Floating in the sky, held only by a thin white string, easily cut, easier when drenched in sweat, that it only becomes an air filled ball of rubber, bobbing along the ceiling along with the other old wrinkled ones, that you forget whose birthday it was, and in the end as you leave the room you forget that it’s even there.

__________________________________________________________

I've realized that 'my site' tab above has been ignored a lot. At the same time, I'm feeling a bit pretentious so I'm going to blog about my day.

Today, I woke up in a different bed. This was because I slept over at Kris' house.

I slept through prom night and a very special love.

My breakfast consisted of eggs/bacon/cornbeef/hotdog. Yum!

Watched ending half of freddie and starting half of the class with friends when the call of nature emerged. Must be because of breakfast and sitcoms. Healthy for the digestive system.

Between the two sitcoms I realized I left my retainers with what's left from breakfast. Became semi-teary eyed when I thought I had to pay 4k for replacing them. Kris and her helper fished it from the trash outside. Good thing I covered it with tissue. It was also covered with bits of leftover corbeef. Thanks so much kris :]

***Reminder: polydent retainers tonight

The rest of the day that followed was also eventful but puting all them down would be such a bother, to both me typing and you reading.

last thing: rode the mrt today, for the third time I think. I really enjoyed it. The mrt was packed like sardines. Even sardines need deodorants too.

Actually, it wasn't that bad. Just lots of elbow rubbing and not enough elbow room.

Lovely day indeed. :]

The other day I had caught myself thinking a very selfish thought, and my speculations on the after life. What of the present? What of the: what we think would happen? How would it all be tied up neatly or make loose ends meet? In all the hullabaloo of what we hope we would achieve or mark when we do finally leave, lowered in the ground (or which ever way you prefer).  This unprecedented unachievable revelation was brought up when I found one author, whom I’ve read only a few works left such impact on me (and mind you, they were only short stories), when scrolling down on the ‘about the author page’ found he had hanged himself the day before. It would be an exaggeration to say I had experienced a sudden feeling of being doused in cold water, but my feet felt exactly that, the tip of my fingers became numb, my throat tightened and the first thought that occurred to me: wikipedia is rarely accurate. And yes, it was the week I had a short bout of depression. Incidentally it had coincided with the week of losing my wallet, the rubber was peeling from my shoes, and there were a series of quizzes with very bad results. Altered with extremes of unexplained happiness and pms. I might have seemed a bit mad during that time, but then again most normal people do think of me that way on my sane days. Just writing this blog, to siphon off all last receding thoughts, as I do think it’s time to let go. David Foster Wallace, your works were amazing, such a shame you off-ed yourself much too early. There was still so much unveiled potential. The world had been watching.

Here’s one of my favourites from him: A Radically Condensed History of Postindustrial Life (it's not that long :] )

A student's life:                                                                       ----revised--------

things will turn up soon                                                            things will turn up soon

fried brains too!                                                                         fried brains too!

i honestly have no inkling to what's happening                 our heads are caving in

dear lord, i hope i'm still breathing                                       too much information!

don't mean to sound too dramatic                                        empty shells, hallow eyes

nor even too dharmatic                                                            good grief

just looking for a good rhyme                                               this must be a student's life!

hah! i've just read it                                                   

i know it sucks

. peace :]

- ito'y pra s lhat ng ng P-PT kya ntin to guys, we will survive (and lahat ng bangag s pag-aaral)!!!

I’ve just had this fond realization that most of the bands I seem to love wear plaid polos. I know some people call plaid fashion suicide, but I personally think it’s adorable. Two bands I really love, their front man wears plaid, so I just thought that was purely coincidental. When listening to music I have no idea what the members look like, with nothing else to do, I tried to find out what they look like. Their appearances don’t change a thing though about their music, or is it the opposite, what they wear actually influence what type of music they make? I don’t know if its lack of wardrobe, or these people actually put music above vanity. It’s great, and I think it’s the way it should be. Maybe The Buggles’ had it right when they sang “Video killed the radio star.” On a side note, trivia: this was the first song to be released on MTV, ah, the wonders of irony.

By the way, your chicken is finger-lickin good!