Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Self-gratification



"Who do I write for?" is not a question. Because this blog is not about being read, it's about being written (to quote extensively from peoplespunisher.com). In that respect, writing is like masturbation. It's all about need and self-gratification. Sometimes, guilt does come into play. But when the process is done right, in terms of environment and mood, writing can be healthy for both body and soul.

Of course, for the most part (stretching the metaphor further), writing can be a frustrating, discouraging task. Do it often, and soon you'll see that you are slowly desensitizing yourself from the whole experience. I am a writer 'tis true. But to normalize writing is not something I am keen on doing. Writing must always hint or obviously convey an elitist, specialist vibe. It's an understanding that mere mortals must not attempt to inflict their prosaic selves on an audience. And on that note, I may have paradoxed myself into a corner. Nevertheless, I will continue to write for myself--even if a singular collective or plural individual takes the time to read this self-absorbed piece.

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Perfect


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People say that the best version of me is when I am with you. And somehow, it makes sense, considering who we are and what we mean to each other.

But I have my way, my need to complicate things. And you, you have your way of hating me for it. You tell me that I am incapable of happiness . . . that wallowing in self-pity helps me validate my existence. You see this as unnecessary. I see it as self-preservation.

It turns out that I am not satisfied with the best version of myself, after all. Because maybe, just maybe, being me and being with you, is not what I am living my life for.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Tabula Rasa

Oh yeah, I swiped this picture from Jan's friendster. Global Gutz was a fitting sendoff. Of course, I wished all sem-art folks were in attendance. But really, I was just glad people came--the whole thing not bein' free and all.

Thing is, it hasn't really sunk in that I've left the sinkhole that was my workplace. A part of me is very much relieved, while another part wonders what would have happened to me, if I stayed. And then there's the part that's just all excited 'bout the new job. I am so looking forward to sightseeing in Greece, eating fusion Vietnamese/French cuisine, and just visiting friends in Australia and Canada (hopefully, the last two...basta I don't want to jinx it).

I'm missing a lot of things, I know. For now, I'm going to busy myself with wiping the slate clean.

Gong Xi Fa Cai!!!

Monday, January 21, 2008

Needing to Regroup


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Today, I am betting on your maybe. Because maybe is good enough, at least for now. And today, I am gladly sacrificing my pride. Because between us, there is no such luxury. Today, you are the prayer on my lips. Because more than anything, I want God to champion our cause. And today, I am as you are--unsure but willing. Because chances have come and gone. But for us, the perfect moment is still at large.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Can't Get Enough

My latest obsession...



Starting to develop a girl-crush on Hayley Williams. Right up there with ninjas.

Friday, January 11, 2008

Make Your Move

I am worried. Because the days are passing and I have not heard from you. And I know that I am in the process of missing you, except that you no longer appear in my dreams. And the questions that have no answers no longer keep me awake at night. There are moments when I realize how comfortable I am in both our silence. That my heart no longer stops at the mention of your name, nor does it race when you speak of mine. I even forget who you are and what your face looks like. And maybe that's not such a big tragedy.

Image credit: http://www.blike.net/files/frontimage/th07lovecontract001.jpg

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Delusions of Grandeur

9 AM:

Oprah calls and begs me to come to her show. I tell her, "Have my people call your people. You know I can never refuse you." Meanwhile, one of my personal assistants mouths the words, "Johnny Depp on line 2." I nod and quickly end my conversation with Oprah.

"Johnny, stop sending me messages. I'm Mrs. Krasinski now, you have to respect that." Before I can send this text message, ten delivery guys show up, asking one of my people to receive the 100 pale pink peonies from Mr. Depp. I just sigh in exasperation and ask assistant number 7 to take care of this problem.

8 PM:

Because it has been confirmed that I am appearing on The Oprah Winfrey Show, designers promptly send outfits from their latest collections, and I literally have my pick of the litter. I owe Donatella, but Marc Jacobs is celebrating his birthday soon. I decide that I'll decide some other time when I'm more up to the task.

Day of the Show

10 AM:

So I still can't decide on what, or more to the point, who to wear. I then ask assistant number 3 to get me some banana leaves, coconut husks, and lots of double-sided tape. I work on the dress for a bit, taping bits here and there. I have my hair done, and I'm all ready to leave the house.

1 PM:

I get to the studio and people usher me to the green room. Oprah drops by and her jaw drops in amazement as she proclaims my dress to be "truly avant-garde and tres chic." I give her air kisses and promise to entertain the audience to the best of my abilities. Oprah tells me, I don't have to do that because quite frankly, she opines, "You are the best thing since life populated this planet." I humbly accept her praise and wait for the show to start taping.

(end of part 1)

Image Credit: http://images.usatoday.com/life/_photos/2006/05/11/oprah-main.jpg

Saturday, January 5, 2008

Bad Wife



Two years ago, I posted this entry on my other blog (dated Dec. 23, 2006):

If there's one thing that's more precious to me than all the gold in the universe, it's probably sleep or sleeping or you know that thing that's the exact opposite of wakefulness? yeah, you get it now, i don't have to go to a lengthy explanation bout it. you know how they say "magbiro ka na sa lasing wag lang sa bagong gising?" well that should clue you in. there's a particular quirk to my body and my personality that's anchored on the sleep gene. i'm boorish by nature but it's nothing compared to what i become whenever my sleep is interrupted. some people get nasty when they're not fed, i get testy when i don't get my 8-hour sleep. of course that alone is an accomplishment for me, my circadian rhythm is synchronized to a 36-hour schedule. i'm a freak sure, but even if i'm only napping, people should never, and i mean NEVER wake me for some petty reason like the house is on fire or the president of the country has come to visit...NEVER. it's not just rude, it throws off my sleep-wake cycle out of the orbit, which makes me homicidal and makes me want to use the most colorful language in my arsenal, the kind that puts sailors to shame. it's not pretty, well it never is, but that's not the point. the point is, LET ME SLEEP. i promise you giving me and my body all the time it needs to rest, is your only hope of ever seeing the "nice" side of me. it's not a myth.

Two days ago:

I got into a fight. Actually, it wasn't really a fight, 'cause I was doing all the shouting and channeling the all-powerful Mrs. Grumpykins.

Bottomline: Nobody should ask me weird questions when I'm still sleeping.

Bad Wife Connection:

Woe to the man who asks me for nookie in the wee hours of the morning. Ditto for preparing breakfast and milking the cow (in case I marry a farmer...).

Image credit: http://hakins.deviantart.com/art/Bad-Thing-50569948

Friday, January 4, 2008

Audio Chocolate

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Still have to thank Joseph for introducing me to the awesomeness that is Up Dharma Down...

Thursday, January 3, 2008

Last Laugh



So evil, it makes me want to slit my wrists. Still, it's mighty fantastic.

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

2008 Mantra


If there's ever a reason to watch Why Why Love . . .

江小南:"你知不知道 我們隨時都要做好下一秒談戀愛的準備
誰知道 緣份會不會己經悄悄展開了
誰知道 愛神的箭是不是己經射中我們
又誰知道 那個白馬王子不會駕著馬車來接我們呢?
當然 時代不同了
他也有可能是開著跑車
或者是騎帥斃了的重型機車
總之 我有預感
他快要來了”

Jiang Xiao Nan: "Do you know we all have to be prepared because we may fall in love in the next second. Who knows, fate could be quietly launching? Who knows, cupid's arrow could be shooting right at us? And who knows, that our prince charming won't be fetching us in his horse carriage? Of course, it's a different generation now. He may be driving a sports car, or a cool motorbike. Anyway, I have a premonition he is coming soon."

Quote from: http://asianfanatics.net/forum/-talk405184.html

Image Credit: http://bestuff.com/images/images_of_stuff/210x600/lee-donghae-66725.jpg

Monday, December 17, 2007

Mel Almighty


equals bad idea. For one thing, I don't have the patience thing down pat. If I am the supreme being, I'll probably flood earth every two weeks. I'll obliterate every being who questions my existence and I'll definitely not be able to control playing the favoritism game. (Trans. Tom Cruise will be cast immediately to the first, sixth, or seventh circle of hell--I'm still deciding this detail--whereas John Krasinski will own everything in the free world, achieving a demi-god status.)

I guess I'm extremely grateful God is God. And while I wish He'll shower me with extra doses of His particular brand of goodness, I have a feeling everything is perfect as it is. I pray then that God grant me the clarity, no, the humility to see...just see.

http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/uncyclopedia/images/7/75/Lightning-with-streamers.jpg

Saturday, December 8, 2007

26

I do like that being 26 makes it somewhat illegal to still act juvenile. Of course, I am expected to act my age, be mature and commit to wearing long pants. It entails certain responsibilities like having a job, a life plan, a wonderful legacy to leave behind. I, being me, choose to eschew all that and go with an entirely different philosophy for living. Not only does this make me a highly unconventional individual, it makes me a cautionary example to dewy-eyed kids who still believe in the promise of white picket fences and the suburban lifestyle. Because here's the actual, uncomplicated version of the facts of life: dreams have a way of shattering, people have uncanny capabilities to disappoint, and fate . . . well it definitely has methods to make life interesting (if interesting is another way of saying challenging/unbearable/bloody hell).

Despite all that, I still think life is good as it is. That will be enough to get me through this day, if only people care enough to believe me.

Monday, December 3, 2007

Deciding On A Theme Song



At first I was thinking Boston by Augustana, then Undiscovered by James Morrisson. I almost went with Catalyst or Wreck of the Day by Anna Nalick. However, at the moment, this seems to be the perfect fit.

Enjoy!

Thursday, November 22, 2007

Unnecessary Disquiet of the Soul


Because I feel like I have just given a kid a box of crayons. And he/she has chosen the gray one to color the clouds, the trees, flowers, and the sea.

People should stop telling me to relax, unless they are willing to stir the pot.

I agree . . . apathy does become me. And so does cynicism, but I'll deny it till I get blue in the face.

I am fascinated by things that appear ambiguous and very specific at the same time.

You may have read me wrong.

Pix Credit: http://kronicdreamer.deviantart.com/art/DISTURBED-28418399

Monday, November 19, 2007

Letters to the Dead



Classmate,

I hope you're in a great place now. I know you struggled long and hard. When it's my time to go, I just pray you'll have time to give me a ride in your big, fancy sidecar and we'll take trips around the block...for old times' sake. You have been an important part of my cherished childhood, and I'll never forget the many kindnesses you have shown me and my family. When I do remember to pray, know that I'll be thinking of you. I hope you're at peace. You will be missed.

Ann,

I still can't believe you're gone. I know I haven't been a good friend to you. But I hope you know now that I have always admired you, envied you, actually. I just want to say I'm sorry, if ever I have done something to hurt or humiliate you. It was just my way of establishing myself--that even though I'm not (nor could I ever be) as pretty and as kind as you were, I was still worthy of attention. I hope you're in a much better place. I hope you're gracing everyone there with your beautiful presence and your beautiful heart. I know you'll remember me--if not with fondness--then with kindness. Thank you for being once a part of my life.

Edwin,

When I first learned about what happened to you, I was shaken to my very core. In my lifetime, I had known lots of nice guys. But you were by far (with the exception of my brother, of course) the nicest of them all. Despite the considerable age difference, you never treated me with condescension. You always had a smile ready for me. And that made me feel very special, which wasn't very easy for me at that time. I was a very awkward teenager, full of angst and self-loathing. I guess I just wanted to say thanks. I don't quite understand it, but I do think of you a lot especially when I'm feeling lonely and hopeless. Thank you for watching over me and I hope wherever you are right now, you're happy and at peace. Thanks again.

Photo credit: http://hazzard7.deviantart.com/art/Grave-53155673

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Residual Anger


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Two, three years ago, you asked me to forgive you. And I actually said, "forgiveness is on the horizon." Now that I had time to REALLY think about it, I realized that I wanted to take it all back. I should have said, "Forgiving you would never have improved the quality of my life." I should have been more honest, more forthcoming. I should have insisted on the pound of flesh that was due me.

I fear, there'd be devil to pay...as all this rage starts to un-repress itself.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Important Announcement

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A Different Interpretation














Music Codes by SongArea.com


Almost Honest
By Josh Kelley

So in the meantime
You'll be resting on my mind
For the last time
I will leave myself behind
In the evening
Raise a glass and tell some lies
Make a pass, impress another girl,
She was easy on the eyes

She was easy
And so was I

My reflection
In the window when I ride for Chicago
She is on the other side
Take a picture
Write a letter to my love

Well I was almost honest
I was almost honest

Been a long time
Since I've laid with you in bed
Conversations, full of words you never said
I got your message
But I didn't hear the ringing bell
I gave into the loneliness
But I didn't give them nothing else

Which direction
Down this highway that I ride to Atlanta
She is on the other side
Take a picture
Write a letter to my love

I was almost honest
Well, I was almost honest

Yeah, Oh oh oh Hmmmmm

My reflection
In the window when I ride
Could not save us
But I swear to God I tried


Take a picture
Write a letter to my love

I was almost honest
But I was almost honest
Cause I was almost honest

Most people tell me this song is about cheating. I don't know, but something tells me this song is not so much about cheating but lying to oneself. I believe this is about a person who cannot let go of his attachments, so much so that he goes on this journey in an attempt to forget. What makes the sentiment of the song so laudible is the fact that it upholds a singular, simplistic truth--things fall apart, people are required to move on, but sometimes that just isn't possible.

Monday, November 12, 2007

Freudian

Current Mood:
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While it's a great thing that I happen to dream in technicolor, it's also to my detriment that said dreams are anything but normal. It vexes me to no end that I, the paragon of control (in my opinion), has such an unruly subconscious. Case in point, last night's dream, which has uncomfortably showcased Fugs (with girlfriend) mistreatment of yours truly.

Of course, even in my dreams (yes, plural for this is actually the second time something like this happened), I can be ruthlessly vindictive. The first time, I have mentally crippled Fugs--wheelchair and all. The second time, my alter ego has made crude remarks about Fugs' age, which I'm glad for, since I never got the chance to ridicule him in public (the way I originally intended). Needless to say, the mere fact that I still dream about this man really says something about the abysmal state of my mental health. (1) He's still renting space in my head, and (2) I may have inadvertently crossed the thinnest of lines from hate to love and back again. The only conclusion I can gather from this prattle, is that I need to have my head examined real soon...of that I have no doubts whatsoever.