Of The Things To Come

Isang dahilan kung bakit ayaw ko na masyadong nakukuha ng isang bagay o tao ang aking atensyon ay dahil ang unang apektado ay ang pagsusulat ko.

Kagaya ng nangyari ngayong gabi.



Mahigit apat na oras rin yun.

Reconnaissance

Slow is the breeze caressing my cheeks, in this moonless night I remember. Crumpled sheets sprawled on my weary bed, as pale blue light from the TV screen illuminate the walls of this silent room. Empty thoughts become a distraction, turning my gaze away from a dreaded sunrise. Another day, another cycle, it sometimes makes me wonder how long before this suspended animation ends. A muffled breathe, a stare into the blank ceiling, a tapping of the fingers on the plastic ebony keyboard while letters appear on my computer. Words have the power to both heal and inflict pain. When words leave no meaning; when sentences print only artificial thoughts, then perhaps there is no use transmitting this message at all:

I am a satellite drifting the space between worlds and in those millions of stars and trillions of planets, perhaps it is not yet meant to find my orbit around a new homeworld.

The Comeback

Just maybe,
the reason why
I still insist on my
alone time
and travel across the
sleeping city
to that spot
at the corner of
Nakpil and Orosa
is to find someone
I could lean my head into.

Still it feels good
knowing you can bare your
weakness to someone

a stranger,
who appears

stronger than you.

Today (2K8 Remix)

Inspiration in solitude; strength in one-man armada

- MSN shoutout for the day

---

I woke up at eleven o' clock this morning, an hour earlier than my usual rise-up-from-bed-time.

After brushing my teeth, i went to the barber to have my hair done. From now on, I will have to seek gatsby's help to fix my hair. Gone are the semikal days when my head looks like a freshly cut coconut being sold in the streets.

I went home after my haircut. As I crossed the overpass near my place, I passed by an old lady begging under the rain. She was soaking wet and chilling because of the unbelievably cold weather. I would have given her my umbrella if not for the fear of another illness befalling me. With two five peso coins to spare, i parted with my change hoping it would be enough to last her until another passer finds her state heart wrenching.

I arrived home starving. With no time to waste, I took a bath, ate my lunch and kissed my mom goodbye. Despite her silvery hair, deep lines on her face, and significant teeth loss, she still is the most beautiful woman to ever walked the earth for me. I won't be gay if I found someone else better than her. It was past noon and I had to hit the gym. I had to complete my workout if I wish to free my evening for other plans.

The workout went well. I am back to my old program but signs of weakness tell that I haven't returned to my full strength. Halfway through the 110-lbs military press, my arms have buckled down. I had to lessen the weight of the Olympic Bar if I wish to declare my program done. Ever since recovering from Throatie, I didn't miss any single workout day to compensate for my week-long absence. Add to that my significant loss of weight and I'd think that Throatie did good for my fitness goals rather than mess up my well-being.

Still, despite my strong desire to suppress my physical attachment for another, I yearn for an intimate hug from someone. I do not know, maybe it's just my nature. On very cold nights like this morning before I went into slumber, my thoughts dwell on wrapping my arms around a soft, warm object hoping it would respond to my longing. Unfortunately, only a small extra pillow answered to my call of need.

I came to work twelve minutes late. Workout was extended to give way for my activities later. With sixteen pesos and seventy-five centavos in my wallet, I am basically broke. I will have to survive on pancakes tonight prepared by a house help who is worried that I might be skipping meals.

A colleague was absent and I'm running an entire account all by myself. We have talked about her leave last weekend and with the worst of luck, a bout of sickness aided her plans today. The challenge at work is daunting but with no one playing RnB and Mariah on the floor, I can free my thoughts and do what a faux psychic must do: make everyone believe that words can foretell the future.

This one-man show is a test of endurance. The shift falls on a dead zone where most users across the planet are asleep and wandering in their dreams. Resentments may rise, but if we can prove our worth being durable operators, perhaps nobody will speak of us being sheltered from the deluge. If goals are met even if I stood alone, others will see our worth like everyone else across the shifts.

When work is done and my shift is over, I will have my only off for the week. I will do my midnight shopping in Divisoria wishing to add more gains to my list. After all the errands have been done, I will arrive home weary and exhausted. I just know. I'm running on short supply of energy. When the clock strikes four, it will be bedtime. It is my hope that when I wake up tomorrow, everything will unbound itself from the hands of the clock.

And the day will cease to be planned.

For a change, I will have my slow time all to myself
breathing the cool scent of trees;
letting my eyes shimmer at the sight of a wintry sun
and just forgetting that the grind starts anew when dawn comes two days from now.

Abuso

In case you're wondering why total recovery is still far from sight, the reasons my dear are listed below.

---

Information Retrieved from Twitter Mobile:


November 11-15:44 yaya was right. clouds were heaving and theres an impending downpour. i didnt listen. now im wet. goodluck sa ubo

[arte mo kasi eh, pinapadala sayo yung malaking payong, sabi mo pasira sa get-up. patanggal pogi points. hayan tuloy, inabutan ka ng ulan sa quiapo. napilitan ka pang gumastos ng P50 pesos para sa isang pipitsuging payong.]

November 11-16:23 buti pa yung katabi ko sa fx mainit ang katawan. wag ka mahaharass pag ginitgit kita ha!

[umuulan sa labas, basa ang jacket mo, sobrang lamig ng aircon ng fx, nakakapang-init yung moreno guy na katabi mo. what do you expect, you take advantage of his presence.]

November 11-17:30 ohh the boy is actually a gay! ang init nya ha. sulit din yung isang oras naming magkapiling ha

[and what did you do after you've confirmed his sexuality at nalaman mong trip ka niya? nag-walk out sa megamall habang yung tao eh nag-eexpect na makikipag-trade ka ng number sa kanya. sama mo talaga.]

November 13-11:14 One day to go before day off. Problem is, I have classes. Therefore, it won't be a restday but a school day. Ugh.

[the price of juggling school and work. wala ka tuloy time para manlalaki or at least, matulog man lang buong araw sa bahay.]

November 13-13:04 shit buti na lang crushie ko yung nasa harap or else d ko kakayanin yung 110 lbs 5 reps military press ko.

[that was 110 lbs, 5 reps, four sets and 2 minutes rest in between sets. as for your crushie: 135 lbs, 3 reps, 16 sets, 45 second rest EDT. no wonder, humaling na humaling ka sa katawan pa lang niya.]

November 13-21:54 Sabagay, sino naman kasi ang tanga na 12 hours na walang kain, hayan badtrip ulit si Throatie sayo.

[at least you're now paying attention. you're not superman for christ's sake. ]

Freewriting

This is an exercise. I need to do this so that I may regain my soul back. Pardon me if my thoughts are incoherent or my entry will show some grammar lapses for I intend not to edit anything from this post. I would just want to let go, and be as free as time would allow me. You see, I'm being assaulted by heavy emotions lately. Perhaps too much denial and avoidance had taken it's toll on me. I've been preoccupying myself with drinking and running around, that there are times I don't know anymore where I'm heading. I'm being swallowed by my own fear, which I try to keep hidden as much as I can. Am I making sense? I hope I am. I just want to write, but my creative bucket is almost empty. So what do I want to write? My fears? Nah. I just want to play around with words, because they seem to run away from me. There are so many things in my mind right now. I want to catch them all and put them in words but they seem so slippery. I think I'm messed up. My order is breaking apart. Am I dark and brooding? I don't know. I just feel heavy. Everything seems swirling that I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm sinking and I don't know who can pull me up. Last night I was so drunk that I was half-conscious when I arrived home. As a result, I'd declare a tactical retreat from alcohol until next month. I was throwing up the whole time, I thought my guts would come out of my mouth. I don't know what to write. I know that I'm incoherent. I feel weak, battered and to the point of surrender. Do I harbor deadly thoughts? Sometimes I do. Perhaps, I've sunk so low that I can already see death as a good escape. Don't get me wrong. I'm not suicidal. It's just that I don't care anymore when I'd be called. Promise, I won't read this entry like I always do when I post in my blog. Sorry for my heaviness. It's just that I just want to unburden myself. Hopefully, when the shift is over I'd regain my control back. It's just that when he says "I love you," I don't feel it anymore. I don't even reply to his sweet nothings for the sake of replying to it. What else do I want to write. Nothing. This is free writing so I'd say everything that comes to mind. It's a good exercise actually, incoherence, unorder. This is great. Maybe I have to stop now. I don't know when I could write again. This entry is written so you would know I'm okay. I'm struggling. Things are becoming quite challenging. But I've seen worse. I have to stop now. No need to read this entry for I won't read this too. I just want to feel and to know I can still write.

---

Freewriting technique involves continuous writing, usually for a predetermined period of time (often 5, 10, or 15 minutes). Writing is done without regard to spelling, grammar, etc., and no corrections are made. If the writer reaches a point where they cannot think of anything to write, then they write that they cannot think of anything, until they find another line of thought. The writer allows himself or herself to stray off topic, and to just let their thoughts lead them wherever they may.

on second thought, I'd read this entry so I would know what happens when my mood hits rock bottom.

Tagged By A Bullfrog

Since Joms has been tagged and has arrived home from a family dinner at Outback's Glorietta, I, Pulsar is authorized to speak on his behalf and reveal a side of him that only few people have seen before. Joms considers the Bullfrog's tagging a great honor. Thus, despite the many pending entries that he needs to write, we will play the game.

Rules

1. This game starts with 6 weird things about you.
2. People who got tagged need to write a blog entry of their own 6 weird things.
3. They should state this rule clearly as well.
4. At the end of the list, tag 6 people.
5. Don't forget to inform each newly-tagged person by posting a comment on his own blog.

Some silly things Joms is known for, and admits being proud of doing:

1. He speaks broken English when asked to recite in class or talk in public. But when Joms is under the influence of Alcohol, even an Englishman will be amazed at how fluent he is at speaking British English. (You bloody lad! Come here and throw this bottle in the bin.)

2. He has no patience in waiting when his vehicle gets stuck in traffic. He walks no matter how far his destination is. (During the first Pyrolympics Show, he walked the entire stretch of Macapagal Avenue from Coastal Mall to SM Mall of Asia. After the fireworks display was over, he again walked from SM Mall of Asia to Taft-Libertad to ride a cab and to avoid the bumper-to-bumper traffic produced by the sudden exodus of vehicles leaving MOA grounds.)

3. He leaves the TV on and set it to auto off before going to sleep. He claims that hearing voices - especially news anchors reporting breaking news or Wall Street reports on CNN makes him sleepy. (In other news, trading at Wall Street ended much lower today after fears of another oil price increase sent investors selling their stocks on the market.)

4. He neither believes in the concept of Heaven nor Hell. However, he considers walking under trees on a cloudless sunset the closest thing to paradise. (And he is such a very strange person, he wishes to live in a place where there is only night, sunrise and sunset.)

5. When traveling, he finds thrill in having very long journeys and gets easily homesick after reaching his destination. (He also brings his own blanket when he needs to sleep at someone else's place... If he doesn't he will go namamahay.)

6. His watch is set 30 minutes ahead of the actual time. (It all started when he was assigned to the morning shift for the first time. Fearing that he would ignore the alarm and goes back to sleep, he sets the alarm clock 30 minutes in advance so that every time it rings, he will wake up thinking he will be late for work.)

I'm tagging Ewwik, Zaizai, Poi, Madame Fiona, Levantine and Mel Beckham

In Pursuit Of Perfection

Once upon a time, there was a bright, but often misunderstood pupil in Grade Five. He sat on the front row and would often sleep in class even if his teacher was at the climax of her subject discussion. Sometimes, he would keep himself awake by writing doodles on his notepad, or bite his dirt-covered nails until it makes a crunchy sound like those of a nail-clipper, or pick his nose and lick whatever gooey object that gets stuck on his right index finger. He was weird, and was declared an outcast because of his habits. His teachers were more inclined to focus their attention towards the mischievous ones - the kids who would hit a fellow pupil with his Coleman jug, or steal a perfumed pen or two from his seatmate's pink plastic pencil case, or compete with the teacher for attention by talking to his friends, who are on the other end of the classroom. Of course, I am a bit exaggerating, but who knows, this story really happened once upon a time.

Anyway this kid hated any subject that had to deal with numbers. His aversion towards anything that needed calculation was so severe, that he found happiness in getting a grade of 79 in all the four quarter periods of the previous school year. He was in Grade Four then. Yet, despite his malady in mathematics, he showed some potentials when it came to literature. Aside from Sibika, it was in Reading that he excelled best.

He loved reading anecdotes - even if he does not fully comprehend what the story was all about. Strange yet this kid understood concepts and meanings and moral lessons, even if sentences took his attention away from imagination. His secret love for letters was so intimate that he was almost at the brink of discovering the written words, when suddenly his teacher took away his dreams and accused him of plagiarism when she asked them to write a Haiku in class.

The Haiku was about a yellow cat,
who slept beside this boy in bed,
and purred and rubbed its furry body against his legs when it gets hungry.
and loved him the way a feline conditionally loved its master.

The kid was so inspired to write the Haiku that he even called on his doodling abilities to illustrate the cat embossed against a blue wall on an Oslo paper. He proudly submitted his work to the teacher, who outrightly declared that his work was a fraud.

Being a mere kid, he does not know how to plead innocent against her accusations. All his life, he was taught not only to respect the elderly, but also accept everything that was told to him by the elders.

And so he kept his guiltless soul within and accepted his fate as the pupil accused of copying from a book.

The best Haikus were plastered on the walls of each classroom the Reading teacher was handling. The pupil's Haiku was nowhere to be seen - no matter how he searched the walls for his misplaced work.

His hopes lie on the teacher, who might have realized that she was throwing a potential talent to waste. Maybe the night she chose the best works, she admitted to herself that her accusation toward her pupil was merely based on impressions and nothing more.

But she didn't retract her statement.

At the end of the quarter, the Haikus were returned to the pupils. The boy received a grade of 80 for all the hard work and inspiration and creativity that he poured on his Haiku.

He felt a slight tinge of pain, but being a young boy, he never understood how it felt like being betrayed by someone who inspired him.

Until many years later, when the man persistently remembers, and can now express in broken words what really happened during that turning point in his life.

The story of the little boy who was accused of copying a poem still haunts him whenever he begins to write. For he knows, that what the pupil submitted was inspired by his striped-yellow friend who followed him around the house with the tip of its furry tail proudly pointing in mid-air.

And when faced with the dilemma of writing; of the first rejection he received just when he was about to flap his wings and explore the landscape of letters.

The memory becomes a falling shard of glass, tearing his wings apart and pulling him back, face-first on the ground.

Petiks In The Office

Sa mga oras na ito, kadalasan ay tambak ako ng trabaho.

Ngunit dahil matumal ang pasok ng mga messages galing sa aming kliyente, narito ako't petiks sa aking dalawang account.

Nakakapanibago?

Medyo...

Kasi nasanay na akong laging nasa panic mode tuwing uupo ako sa aking station ng alas-dos.

Nasanay na rin ako sa mas demanding na bago kong work cycle.

---

As usual may topak pa rin ang aking computer. Nalugi talaga ako sa pagkamahal-mahal na purchase na nagawa ko sa sobrang atat maka-pag Sims 2 muli.

Nalaman ko kahapon na maari ko na sanang pinambili ng laptop yung perang ginastos (at gagastusin kong pambayad sa credit card) para sa lecheng unit ko. Ngunit ganun talaga, so long as I won't know what a bad deal is, I will never learn how to be "wais" when it comes to biz transactions.

Ayoko naman samantalahin ang warranty dahil sa bukod na nasira ko na ito, hindi ko makakayang mawalay sa aking computer sa loob ng dalawang linggo.

So kailangan kong magtiis pansamantala habang hindi ko pa napapa-check kay Kaibigan Oso ang motherboard ng computer. Tutal, napapakinabangan ko pa naman ito.

As long as hindi ko gagamitin ang DVD Drive o kaya naman ay ang extra hard disk nito, walang masyadong binibigay na sakit ng ulo ang computer. Sabi ni Kaibigang Oso, maaring ito ang dahilan ng palagiang pag-hahang at resource spike ng PC.

Sa muli naming pagtatagpo, doon ko pa lang malalaman ang real deal tungkol sa topak ng aking PC.

---

Hindi natuloy ang class namin kahapon. Na-suspend ito dahil sa centennial celebrations sa Diliman na ginanap noong tanghali.

Tamang-tama naman sapagkat bukod sa hindi ako handa sa aking report, wala pa akong matinong essay na masusubmit sa professor.

Sa ngayon, back to the drawing board ulit ako. Kung tutuusin, hindi biro ang mga topics na pinapa-report sa akin ng guro. Sabi ko nga sa utol ko, "I'm not a literary critic, I just write." Kontra naman niya, "you must learn how to be a critique in order to be a good writer."

Ewan ko ba, para sa akin kasi, dapat ay maging malaya ang isang manunulat upang madiskubre niya ang kanyang tunay na boses. Totoong dapat na may panuntunan sa pagsusulat. Ngunit kung ang mga panuntunang ito ay higit na makakasakal sa halip na magpalaya sa isang manunulat,

mabuti siguro'y magsulat na lang tayo para sa ating sarili. Sa ganitong paraan, at least wala tayong icoconsider na mga bagay na magiging sagabal pa para sa ating paglalahad ng saloobin.

---

Pista pala ngayon ng Nazareno. Kung nalaman ko lang ng maaga (at kung hindi sana nakitulog si Phanks sa amin kagabi) Balak ko sana gumawa ng essay at i-document ang buhay sa paligid ng Plaza Miranda sa loob ng isang magdamag. Ito ang essay na isusubmit ko sana sa aking isang klase.

Ang title ng piece ay "One Night Stand in Quiapo."

Ngunit dahil gahol na ako sa oras at tinatamad rin akong lumabas, maaring sa blog ko na lang lumabas ang entry balang araw.

Tamang-tama sapagkat pakiramdam ko minsan na walang social relevance ang mga entries ko dito.

Puro ako na lang ang bida, pati na rin ang maliit kong mundo.

---

I miss the good old days when my eyes were fixed outward - on things that I see around me. Lately, I feel that I've been constantly searching inward for something that is missing.

Strange thing is that I don't really know what I'm looking for.

Princess Diaries: Introduction

Si Princess, sa mga hindi nakakaalam ay katrabaho ko. Si Mami Athena (Deracinee) ang nagbigay sa kanya ng palayaw na princess dahil hindi lang siya maputi at makinis, fashionista din siya at refined kumilos.

Pwedeng-pwede siya maging candidate sa pagiging certified Metrosexual.

Don't get me wrong though, si Princess ay hindi effeminate. Tanging kami lang ni Mami ang tumatawag sa kanyang prinsesa. Sa tuwing makikita mo siyang nag-aabang ng taxi pauwi, sa halip na mga babae ang kasama niya (kagaya ng ibang mga PLU na kilala ko), ang mga nakapalibot sa kanya ay puro barakong lalaki. Mas marami pa nga siyang straight guys na tropa kesa sa akin.

Anyhoot, naging bonded kami nitong binatang ito noong kasagsagan ng conflict ko kay P-Man. Bigla na lang siya nag-aya na mag-BED kami kasi daw hindi pa siya nakakapunta doon. Siya rin ang nag-aya sa akin mag-White Party, kung saan ako ang pinagkaguluhan samantalang siya naman ang nagmaganda. Sa office, kami rin ang tag-team partner sa aming account. Lagi kasi siyang tinatabla ng iba naming ka-team at minsan na rin itong naging dahilan ng kanyang pag-reresign.

Minsan ko nang nai-post ang sinulat niya noong umaapaw ang kanyang creativity at ang naging outlet niya ay yung Notepad sa aming computer sa halip na Microsoft Paint. Favorite pastime kasi ni Princess ang mag-enhance ng kanyang mga pictures kapag wala kaming ginagawang trabaho. Pinost ko ang kanyang sinulat sa takot na maaring hindi na siya mag-sulat muli.

Ngayong wala na naman akong maisulat (dahil puro tulog, gym at sims 2 lang ang ginagawa ko kapag walang work), hahayaan ko munang siya ang mag-occupy ng space ko. Lingid sa kaalaman ng prinsesa, may exposure na siya sa blogspace.

In the first place, yun rin naman ang secret wish niya.

Just My Infatuation

The kid on the right is Clyde Harper. He is cheerful guy with a boy-next door type personality. The big guy in front of him is Von Finnell. A rugged man with a mysterious, playful and happy-go-lucky personality. They may look like brothers but are actually very distant cousins. They both live with Clyde's aging mother, Minerva, who keeps herself busy by organizing tea parties to expand her social network around Pleasantview.

Von moved into the Harper's home with a stash of cash inside his bag. Rumors abound that he is being pursued by the authorities from a distant small town northeast of Sim City.

Despite having a dubious past, Clyde sees Von as his big brother. He sees him as a cool and carefree guy that he wishes to emulate when he grows older. Von never had someone to look after in his entire life, but Minerva insist that he looks after Clyde like his young brother. Von may complain of this responsibility, but he secretly admits that the more he gets to hang out with Clyde, the more he becomes fond of him - as a companion and confidant. He is the only person who knows his deepest secrets - especially his illicit affairs with ladies before leaving his small town.

In a short span of time, these two guys found companionship they never had with others. Will this deep friendship lead into something only the two of them know?

Only time, will tell.

---

You're the devil in me I brought in from the cold
You said your body was young but your mind was very old
You're coming on strong and I like the way
The visions we had have faded away
You're part of a life I've never had
I'll tell you that it's just too bad

- Chemical Brothers feat Noel Gallagher, Setting Sun

Scribble Two

Express your thoughts in 120 seconds or less.

Nasa work ako ngayon.
Natulog ako ng 4 am kanina kasi nanood ako ng The Island.
Problema ko tuloy mamaya kung paano ako makakapag-gym ng puyat.
Para tuloy akong vegetable ngayon sa work station.
I'm addicted to Sims 2.
Hindi ko gets bakit mahilig
ako gumawa ng role playing na mga eksena.
Para namang walang role playing sa buhay ko.
Naiinggit ako sa mga nakakagimik na mga bloggers.
Hindi naman ako makasama kasi palaging busy at
pagod sa work. Medyo short rin ako sa paggastos
Lately zero ang social life ko.
Ni makapag-clubbing eh hindi ko na magawa.
Ganun talaga pag nasa middle of the week ang day-off mo.
Talagang bahay-trabaho lang ang destinasyon mo
Enrollment na sa school.
Pero wala pa rin akong subjects.
Computerized na kasi ang sistema kaya
naninibago ako sa mga procedures.
Sa tuition fee pa lang
ubos na ang pera ko ngayong November.

Passage Of Wordlessness

As I stare blankly on my computer screen, I know something dreadful is about to happen. It has been an hour, but my head still feels empty. There is weariness in my body as I squash the last remaining creative juices inside my brain. I stave off the lingering feeling of nothingness by typing a few broken sentences on my Word Pad. However, as pure thoughts flow reluctantly converting itself to wordly expressions, the sudden thought of irreconcilable emptiness leaves me deleting the entire piece altogether. "I am not satisfied; no mood to write." I say to myself. "Perhaps I must look back at my previous writings in hopes of getting inspiration once again."

I might be entering a period of incurable wordlessness.

The reason why I blog so religiously despite nothing much to say is to avoid such period of wordlessness from happening. Clearly I am suffering from a writer's block and no matter what I do, the block tightly holds its grip on me. The symptoms are already present; I start to blabber incoherently when I put my ideas into the word pad, only to get disappointed to realize how unorganized the thoughts were. Thus, some nice entries that should have made it to the blog were deleted without mercy.

Words, which I could easily grasp and manipulate during bountiful days become hard to capture. It's like catching lovely butterflies made of smoke. Fortunately, there is the Merriam-Webster website to assist me; but proofreading, which I do after every paragraph becomes more difficult to complete.

Finally in times like this, I would usually resort to writing in Filipino so that my thoughts and ideas could be expressed in a different medium. Unfortunately, not even the use of Tagalog could save me from my block. The Pinoy words, which I feel quite inappropriate or formal for my taste remains at the back of my head. Therefore, any entries which I feel like writing could never be completed because my method of expression continues to betray me.

Strange enough, it seems like the spell of wordlessness is beginning to show signs of weakness. I might be able to finish this entry without it being deleted like the rest. Maybe I should blame my lack of sleep for the past several days for this sudden blankness that looms over me. It must have been the culprit as to why I cannot think very clearly lately.

With still a review essay pending for my Non-Fiction class on Wednesday, the pressure for my apparent Writer's Block is building up. If only my creativity is boundless; if only I have learned to embrace words and sentences early on in my life, maybe I would not be as concerned with my block as I am today. Perhaps, instead of worrying too much about it, I should devote my time sleeping.

Who knows, maybe tomorrow I could already write an entire piece even if P-Man's saturating hiphop songs blare on his mini speaker.

Yaya

How dare you insinuate that I could tolerate such a diabolical insult from a crap of humanity such as you! I would rather be deceived than to talk with you! You haven't heard the last of me yet you scoundrel, you nincompoop! You fiendish creature!!

- Inday, reaction sa palengke vendor nang malamang kulang ng 2 guhit ang nabiling tilapia.

---

There is no allusion of doubt nor the presumption of guilt that a mere wanton display of a cajoling crop of youth could possibly render the horticultural vessel in its now disparaged state...

- Inday, nang tinanong siya kung si Junior ba ang nakabasag ng Chinese vase.

---

Amo: Day! Bakit may bukol si Junior?!?

Inday: Compromising safety with useless aesthetics, the not-so-well engineered architectural design of our kitchen lavatory affected the boy's cranium with a slight boil at the left temple near the auditory organ.

Amo: Nosebleed, nag hang ang utak.

---

Dear Sir/Madame

Attached herewith is a list of proposed acquisition in line with my proposal to procure and purchase your household essentials. I have already made initial survey of current market prices. Note however that prices could vary depending on the prevailing exchange rate and aggregate supply and demand which I also monitor in ANC on a regular basis.

- Si inday, nagpapaalam para mamalengke. Ingleshera ang putah.

---

Amo: Inday, bumili ka nga ng mga isda.. Ay honga pala, inglesera ka! Ahem, would you please buy MANY fishes for this week's meals?

Inday: Judging by your statement, i presume that you meant a variety of edible saltwater and freshwater fishes? The term 'fishes' although rarely used, connotes a plethora of different species of the said aquatic creatures. But the more pressing questions before I go to the wet market would be: What type of cut? Would it be Fillet or not? Does the fish have to be Frozen or fresh? (pauses) Ahh.. Given the meager budget afforded by this household's QUASI-PEASANT class taste, I assume that I shall source the staple "ga-lewng-gong." Am I correct?

Amo: Ah Leche, bumili ka na ng kahit ano, pa-ingles ingles ka pa hindi ka naman tiga-Harbard!

---

special thanks to lostwansoul et. al. for forwarding the inday text jokes to me.

Coolest

---

I spend my time watching the cable channels lately in hopes of catching this SkyCable TV Ad. Not only do I find the girl hot, its background music has become my most recent LSS (Last Song Syndrome).

If only the parties I attend are as cool as this. Unfortunately, the scene in this TVC is way refined and discreet from the usual clubbing scenes that I see.

Anyway, does anyone know the title of the song in the background?

Shishi-Kitsune Accords

Why Can't Joms Do Fiction

The last time they required us to submit a fiction story, it took me almost to weeks just to come up with an idea to write.

And when I submitted my manuscript for workshop, the moderator almost suggested that I write a new one, if not for the good suggestions from the fictionist of our class, who deconstructed my whole piece completely, leaving only the basic thought of the story for me to work with.

With barely two days to finish my revisions, I am here again caught in the gridlock.

So why can't I write fiction, when I could almost certainly do a non-fiction in just one sitting?

Here are the reasons why:

1. I am a journalism and not a literature graduate. We were used to working with facts alone - even if those facts are the basic foundations of a good fiction.

2. I have never been a good story-teller ever since.

3. It's hard for me to invent settings, character, and plot that I don't have any connection with. For some reasons, I still equate fiction with lying and for the past five years of writing, I haven't written any lie yet - except my one and only April Fools Piece, which I also revealed to be a lie in the end.

4. I rarely read fiction books. I'd rather drink poetry instead.

5. I don't know fiction, that's why I can't write one.

And with so many odds against me and so little time to work with, I think it's alright to resort to desperation and submit a crappy piece for the final revision of my essays. But who knows? My muse might get an extra kick tonight and instead of writing another blog entry, I may finally pull myself together to come up with a food fiction - mediocre by standards, yet finest to someone who has never written a fiction before.

Floor Filler (Just Thinking Out Aloud Sessions Four)

Pulsar: (Interviewer) Let's take a break and get mababaw for a change.

So how's your life Joms?

Joms: Well, I have a flu. My nose has been runny for the past three days now. I thought I'm gonna collapse yesterday at work because of my very weak condition.

Pulsar: Have you ever thought of requesting to go on a half day?

Joms: Yeah, but it's already noon when I realized that my body could not take it anymore. Besides, I'm looking forward to having that long blissful stroll with P-man going to the jeepney stop.

Pulsar: I see, you should take care of your health too. So how's you and him lately?

Joms: We're friends.

Pulsar: Are you really sure? A trusted source told us that you've been waiting for his text message at night. Is this true?

Joms: No. Next question please.

Pulsar: Ok then, so what keeps you busy lately.

Joms: Uhm, school, tons of write-ups that needs revision; sleep. I need lots and lots of it; and lastly I'm hooked-up to Sims 2: Seasons.

Pulsar: That's great. So tell us about this new game that keeps you busy after work?

Joms: It's a simulation game where a player like me could manage the affairs of a simulated person which is the Sim. You can arrange his home, buy him expensive furniture, let your Sim have relationships (even with the same gender), help him work his way up the career ladder, even build him a family. Basically his life depends on you. What's exciting about this new sequel is that weather has been added to the game.

Pulsar: That's interesting. Sounds like when you play it, you don't need to go out and hang out with friends anymore?

Joms: That's the downside Pulsar. In fact, I'm so dependent on my computer, socializing and going outside has become the least of my priorities.

Pulsar: Isn't that scary? I mean, don't you feel lonely sometimes?

Joms: The previous entries will give you an idea about what's on my mind lately.

Pulsar: Well I hope that things would get better on your side.

Joms: Thanks, do you have some other questions?

Pulsar: Can we talk about your lovelife?

Joms: Pass...

Darkstar: How about sexlife?

Joms: Who the hell is that?

Pulsar: Sorry, I think that guy's just a bystander.

Joms: Pass again.

Pulsar: Well, I guess this would be the end of our interview. Can you share to us some of your plans in the coming weeks?

Joms: First, I would like to return to the gym. That's my priority. However, it seems like I still have to wait for a month before Eclipse opens their branch in Shaw. Another priority is a major upgrade of my personal computer. Unfortunately, I don't have enough money to take such undertaking. Lastly, I'm thinking of enrolling to an English class this summer. It worries me that the first thing the panel notices whenever my essay is being work shopped is my grammar. If I am serious in finishing this masters' project, I have to work hard to improve my standing in that department.

Pulsar: Thanks for your time Joms. Isn't it so nice that we could talk about these things between serious entries? We look forward to having another filler post like this one in the future. We wish for your immediate recovery.

Joms: Thanks and you're welcome. Until then mister interviewer.

Frozen Throne Contemplations

Note: This opinion essay is part of our requirements for Creative Writing. Since I promised someone before to show the essays I write in school, consider this as a sample... For a change, it's time the blogger takes a break from his normal, routine PLU life.

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We could all agree that the weather these days is unusually chilly for a late January. Those who complain of the humidity may find themselves in a very pleasant situation, strolling across the city on high noon without feeling the heat of the sun burning their skin. On the other hand, those who wake up very early in the morning will surely complain about the freezing temperature. “I am having a hard time taking a shower these days,” says a colleague who works morning shift in a call center. “I can’t stand the freezing water, which I find very strange considering that everyone I know is bracing for the hot summer months ahead.”

If you look back at the weather trend last year, strong typhoons hit the country during late November. December was warm and rainy, while news of water shortages was reported last October. There were no significant weather disturbances that happened last June to August and the summer months of April prevented some people to go out during the day since the unbearable heat simply made them feel very uncomfortable.

Around the world, people wonder about the freak weather pattern this year. A friend who lives in New York told me last December that they usually expect heavy blizzards to come during Christmas, but there were none. The storms arrived later during mid-January dumping heavy snow not only in Canada but also in the state of Texas. Germany and the rest of northern Europe suffered from one of the most severe wind storm to hit the region in centuries while parts of France, particularly in towns north of the Pyrenees reported water shortages as early as February.

The trends, though quite amusing at first reveals a very dark and gloomy future ahead. This possible future has been forecasted, studied and was given significant attention by the scientific community but governments, particularly those who rely on heavy polluting industries and carbon-based energy sources never listened. The signs pointing to Global Warming and Climate Change had been subtle at first, but as ignorance and greed continues to dominate human politics, the planet has its way of shoving the problem right on our very faces.

We could go scientific on the nature and effects of the recent weather pattern. We could even devote several pages of information about Greenhouse Gases and Ozone Depletion just to make some sense as to why it seems, the weather gets more extreme every year. But we don’t really need the scientists to explain things right now, for everything we need to know is right before our very eyes – pollution, carbon monoxide emissions, signal number four storms, long dry spells during summer, monsoon season without any rain, the list goes on.


This year alone, reports of massive Glacier retreat in the North Pole and the Himalayas prompted some scientist to raise the alarm and turn the hands of the Doomsday Clock five minutes before midnight due to the threats of Climate Change to mankind. This has never been done before since the Clock is only reserved to nuclear threats posed by nuclear-capable nations around the world.

Almost every month, reports about Climate Change or events attributed to Global Warming are being shown in the news in hopes that it could further awaken the consciousness of everyone about the huge problem we are facing. But such revelations are useless if individuals like us would simply ignore the signs and not do our part.

Everyday, tons of cubic meters of Carbon Dioxide goes up in our atmosphere from the coal supplied to our power plants. Same thing goes to the hectares of forests being cleared up to give way to farmlands just to satisfy our excessive food appetite. Lastly, the garbage we mindlessly dispose in the thrash sometimes end up being burned in our dumpsites.

If we could only cut back in our consumption and be responsible enough for our excesses: If we would, in our deepest consciousness adopt a green way of living – by sorting trash before dumping them; conserving electricity by turning off lights and appliances that are not being used; and be wary of the unusual weather patterns instead of simply passing them off as mere “climate adjustments.”

Perhaps there is still chance to prevent the most horrible things from happening..

Mankind is slowly awakening to the harsh and bitter reality of how Climate Change and Global Warming may affect our daily lives. The voices calling out for a collective action grows louder and louder every day. We could always lend our voices to support government pressure, or we could simply go back to sleep blaming the “very cold weather” for inaction.

We just hope that when the time we wake up, a quarter of the world is not yet drowned in sea water, while the rest are either bracing for super storms or enduring months of dry spell simply because we responded too late to reverse the damage we have done to our planet.

Embers

It is now apparent that the graduate school project I am currently involved with leaves me constantly scrutinizing the entries here in my blog. Such state of higher consciousness is already giving me a hard time to write about things - which doesn't concern me anymore but the things around me. Such mindset begins to discourage about the "me" and instead promoting them. Slowly, I'm loosing my blog to changes of attitudes and It shows on how rare I post entries these days.

What's more appalling lately is that the entries I posted focuses on my current troubles this past few days.

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I am afraid that if this trend of screening and scrutinizing subjects to write about goes on; if in some feat of madness, I decided to unreveal my life here in phankspace - finding it too exposing; if the flames of journal keeping in me has been finally put out, maybe this blog will cease to exist after all. Without the things to talk about, without the time to compose the things I felt during a moment, and without the motivation I needed to weave words.

How in this world could I write?

But let us see then what happens. As for now, expect things to be a little slower here... While I figure out what to do next in life, now that I'm beginning to doubt everything that is me.