Pritong Sabaw

2011-02-24T13:26:00.005+08:00

The decisions of our ancestors made way for our present predicaments.

My grandmother had probably voted for Marcos. My mother could have voted for Cory. My father voted for Erap. My mother voted for Gloria. My father voted for FPJ. My mother voted for Noynoy.

Who pays the price? A part by us, the rest by our children.

For that, I often criticize my mother. And by criticize I do not mean hate; I do not totally blame her though, for it is not her decision alone. It is the decision of the majority. The practical democracy is not about what is right but what is popular.

So in case you stumble upon this dark spot of the cyberspace, the post is not about a quarrel between a so-so son and his mother.

late at night if you drive south, passing muntinlupa through the national highway, you will be bothered by signs. yes, SIGNS. they say, "Keep Right, Men At Work" and then you take the right most lane and speed up. traffic builds up and and you say "what the fuck," brake hard and see vehicles in front flash their left-turn signal lights. you get a good view of another sign as the vehicles yield, "Keep Left, Men at Work." and then you realize that your mayor wants the road decorated with light reflecting paint.

and you think: this must be from a portion of my tax again (your district representative already took his) because the entirety of it is a SIGN. and you expect to see another one again: "Keep Right, Men at Work."

and when you're home your mother who is a city paid teacher tells you, "our health card has ran out of funds..."

"again." you say. and you tell her, "did you see the road, your mayor wants it painted bright." trying to imply that there is a SIGN.

and then you go somewhere the next day and get back home again. this time your mother asks, "can i borrow a hundred?" she sees your face animated. "i need to get a Class B tax payer certificate. it's confirmed, our contract is through by the end of March. i'm applying for a call center job."

exasperated, you slap your forehead and rub your face with your hand as if to be erased from this world is all that you desire.

then you tell your mother, "you voted for him. now look, your master betrayed you." in filipino: "eh ibinoto mo eh. yan, tingnan mo, TRINAYDOR KA NG AMO MO."

and with all your hatred you continue, "that is why we're like this, you voted for that mayor, you even voted for the president."

and your mother justifies, "it's just like i gambled. and i lost."

you say, "you gambled, putting the future of your children at stake." and after that you cannot speak anymore. you begin to think about the signs again. you cannot make any sense of it, everything just gets absurd. you get the one hundred peso bill from your half empty wallet, telling yourself that you are in deep shit.

2011-02-24T08:53:00.003+08:00

back in december, on my way home when I was traversing the East Service Road from Sucat to Alabang, a jeepney suddenly turned left entering a gas station, without warning or clue.

i pushed my left handlebar to swerve away from the jeep, trying to avoid collision. the skill saved me. i needed to reduce speed to properly maneuver and return to my lane so i slowly squeezed the brake lever. surprisingly, my front wheel suddenly lost traction. then i kissed the concrete in the most torrid fashion i ever knew.

the next events should be posted in a different story.

now we have been talking about this matter for a while and came up with a handful of thoughts, in a very general way. a handful indeed, that this post cannot deal with it all at once. so i will speak about what i can remember clearly.

if you ride or drive, or you acquired a license in a legal way, you should know at least that vehicles with defective lights are not allowed to travel. you should also know that you should reveal your intentions other motorists; thus our vehicles have fog lights, brake lights, hazard lights and turn signal lights. we should use them accordingly.

apparently, most of the things that we see on the roads are hazards, the very antonym of our idea about road safety. this paradox is embodied by that jeepney.

me and sweety, embarked on a jeep (my motorcycle was damaged so i was back to being a normal commuter) talking about the accident and why accidents happen

me: ilegal nga yang jeep, dapat jan hinuhuli (the jeep runs illegally, the driver should be apprehended).
sweety: pano mahuhuli? e wala naman nagsusumbong... (how, nobody gives a damn squealing about them?)
me: ah alam ko na. walang nahuhuli kasi walang nanghuhuli, kasi walang nagsusumbong. walang nagsusumbong kasi wala namang umaaksyon. (i think i know now. nobody gets apprehended because nobody apprehends. nobody apprehends because nobody gives a damn. nobody gives a damn because at the end of it all, nobody acts a damn).

we finished the small talk shortly after my last phrases; we were not making any sense anymore. for the same reason i should stop right here. i could believe that small talks tell a lot.

i miss rocking

2011-01-13T23:31:00.003+08:00

there is a trail outside the confines of this company that leads to a little world where i truly live. there is hope and there is love. but reality snatches it from me at this very moment. i so long for it.

very soon i will go out and return to it. there where the work is worthy of my strength and my intelligence is constantly challenged. it can be your world too if you choose. it's not hard to live there at all. it's fun, actually.

when i do i will play until the tips of my fingers numb. my feet should ache for standing too long. my shoulders should feel tense for having the guitar strapped for hours. there should be ringing in my ears. my brain by then will release endorphins - as science call.

i say it's euphoria.

so please bear with me a little longer. i will play for you again.

soon.

photo by Julian

automatic pentatonic

2010-11-26T12:34:00.001+08:00

i was able to see a part of an instructional video on music, explaining how music works.

in the video, there were four (i hope i can remember it exactly) persons from different parts of the world singing their native music. the African, Chinese, Indian, and the American sang different songs - very different songs.

though, they have one thing in common. all the melody lines were sang using only five notes. the pentatonic scale.

in music, a scale is constituted by 8 notes. for example, the group of notes that build up the key of C (major) is: C, D, E, F, G, A, B, C(octave).

the notes that build up the C (major) pentatonic scale is: C, D, E, G, A.

the four nationalities built their music on this very firm foundation. diverse, yet they came as one.

so what's the point?

this discovery leads me to believe that music is the universal language.

dear bro

2010-11-26T12:14:00.003+08:00

your words are true, and indeed very timely.

honestly, i took all the slim chances of getting out, but i failed. and for that, you can call me loser. and a loser cannot afford to lose anymore.

i cannot lose the comfort of being late. the comfort of being able to do nothing. i answer emails as if i am only breathing... i'm exaggerating but i trust that you get the point. i can curse... i've been doing it for more than four years. i'm an expert on that field.

i can still remember the first time we met in this hell hole. you were so gray with your corporate attire and your uncombed hair. but in your short stay, i realized that you are full of colors. more colorful than the pictures that you took and the paintings that you drew. and now you have grown so much. you shake this place where we once found comfort. and you challenge the fool that i am.

that was the time that i expected to have good things. later, i realized that this hell only takes mediocrity and gives back the less of it. and you left. and i learned not to expect something good. and there was none. and i learned to expect, at least, that nothing bad will happen. but bad things happened. and i gained none.

i thought that i could endure it, as long as i have my ace: my music. i believed at it. but no. people do not listen anymore. they do not see anymore. even my number one fan thinks of it only as a hobby. i think she has no faith at all. that is why i am here and you are there. we have no value. they do not hear me, they do not see you.

so i'm fading out to this obscure online existence - exchanging status with virtual friends, ranting on my blog account, commenting on some catchy lines. where this four years of agitation has taken me, we call it the "edge."

the edge of falling. the edge of quitting. the edge of failing. the edge of losing sanity. the edge of admitting defeat. Alamat does not fit me anymore.

i don't know if i made any sense about these, i've said too much but done so little. i should stop because this is unfair for a very sensible person like you. you've grown so much. i should catch up.

it's been so long since we've had some happy time. i hope that that is what we do when we meet again, over a cup of coffee.

goodbye NU

2010-11-08T11:40:00.001+08:00

maybe rock music is not profitable anymore. that's what i realized after learning from a friend that NU 107 bid its farewell. not that the station will no longer air but they are considering a new format (according to an article from the Philippine Inquirer). pop? i'm not sure. NU is "rock" and without "rock," it's not NU.

though the station has been part of my growing up, i was never a fan. it was shocking though, like learning that somebody's heart suddenly stopped beating and he died. i wonder how my friends would feel about the news.

so long NU, let me thank you for the music. without you, there is no beginning for us.

four fourteen

2010-10-07T04:15:00.001+08:00

i keep trying to get away from sleep... or maybe trying to get sleep away from me.

this is so third world.

four fifty five

2010-10-06T05:03:00.000+08:00

your eyelids are heavier than the waters that fall from a waterfall. when all is asleep, a servant is all you need to be. now you see, all this institution has is gravity.

two forty five

2010-09-29T15:02:00.000+08:00

you catch your breath at the final step of the stairs. poor you. your building does not have a lift? o, i see. what it only has is gravity.

the promise

2010-09-28T16:49:00.000+08:00

there is this promise that the BPO has. it could be an illusion, but then the BPO promises that it is not, provided that we plead allegiance to it.

be complacent. you have that steady income, all you have to do is to come in and out on time. a little overtime might help. just be a dog and you can have the steady increase. the company will take care of your taxes, you don't have to do the math. you can surely do the things for 25 more years, you do not have to learn new tricks. you just have to do some clicks.

you have that health card. the company will take care of you when you get sick. although mine does not cover the expenses for medicines, that half-assed health benefit is better than none. plus, when you need to confine yourself in a hospital, the card provides a SEMI-private ward for you. semi = half assed. but that's okay for someone who is not par with excellence.

be contented. you can loan a house. how big depends on how much you earn. you don't need a mansion. there will surely be left for your allowances. food; you do not have to eat like a king. clothing; what are those ukay-ukay for? you're still single so why worry?

are you gonna be single forever? how about your future wife? your kids? what will you tell them about your prime? what about singing songs that you wrote? what about lessons that you will teach? what about your principles? what about your parents? are they proud? are you proud?

be confident. the company is the rock upon where you could stand.

:

2010-09-27T16:00:00.002+08:00

a good friend and i were thinking about how a mind is affected by the BPO industry; what are the effects? why they are affected? - this is just a few questions because we know that one can get lost in the vast jungle, of the industry that is.

how did it affect me physically? well, i can always feel tension in my hands. i have been having a hard time playing guitar lately. my neck and shoulders are stiff - i have been doing the zombie position for years. nothing can heal it unless i get out of this state: being undead.

who would want to exercise at 5 in the morning? like jog or ride a bike for an hour? mind it that you get home every night at quarter to twelve and you sleep at one? no one?

yeah, we have three shifts but what different does it make when you are on the third shift? wide awake from eight in the evening to eight in the morning... you want to pull some weights when you wake up at two or three in the afternoon?

what about first shift? you wake up at four in the morning, just when you are about to go to the deepest realm of your sleep? you try to sleep early but your body says "i'm not resting until half past ten!" then you go out at two, when everything is on the verge of melting because of the heat of the sun. you will be home by three. is it any cooler? i bet, you have sweat it all out that you will not sweat anymore when you do some rounds in the gym.

these are just a few things. perhaps this post could go on as a series. let us see if we can make it more serious next time.

;

2010-09-27T15:24:00.005+08:00

i just said goodbye to my editors, a team of microbiologist who edits an international journal. my job was to give assistance to them and to any person who had any concern about anything related to the journal. i was their assistant. (who else would? the britons? the germans?)

something told me not to be sad: "you are still an assistant to more than a dozen other journals." thanks, i like the sarcasm. "you could be for years, because you chose it in the beginning, you might end up choosing it in the end."

so i battle with the thought. on the other hand, the editors have just had their new assistant. the journal will keep on moving and the publisher will keep on publishing. the stock holders will keep on profiting while science will keep on advancing. business will go as usual.

"and don't you expect farewell, fool. you're not getting any cheaper but your work does not get any better. their boss got to invest somewhere else, on someone else. you do not bring a good sum in the end. you were not really part of their team, you were just a tool just like the rest of your team. just like the rest of your workforce.

"and don't try to find dignity in your labor; does selling warm bodies to foreign investors has dignity?.."

and the thing keeps on talking, making small things big and thinks small about big things. i should endure his mockery.

"yes, get your ass working and be good at what your race is good at! give assistance."

magulang

2010-09-15T14:34:00.005+08:00

(i needed to send a text message to someone who is very important)

i was in dire need of prepaid credits earlier; i wished that my service provider had a mishap, kind of their system encountered an error so i could send my texts for free. but networks are big companies and they won't allow the smallest possible mistake to happen. thus, delivering their pockets from jeopardy.

so i needed to find a sari sari store where i can purchase the "tingi load." I saw one on the way and stopped, disembarked from my motorcycle and asked. "may load po kayo sa Sun?"

"Wala kaming load... diyan sa kabila."

but something tells me, my body clock perhaps, that if i stay longer two o' clock will leave me with a bad record in the human resource department. and so i kicked start my ride and sped off.

on my way to the office building i saw another store, ornamented by banners of the telecom companies of all names. i stopped by and said, "pa load po sa Sun."

"magkano ipapa-load mo?" the store keeper asked.

"twenty pesos."

the store keeper laughed shyly, like a litter girl hiding something only she knows what. then she revealed: "twenty two pesos kasi ang twenty pesos na load namin."

so something spoke and told me, "this lady is a fuck, you're not paying for another 20 percent. retailers of credit load are not supposed to collect more than what you need to have."

i said to the store keeper. "sige huwag na lang po," and headed to the company parking lot.

,

2010-09-02T20:14:00.005+08:00

i have been feeling feverish for the last few days, and every warm exhale spells irony, as i am about to complete the medical treatment. the devil disease should have been eradicated but my antibodies tell otherwise.

i even dreamed about myself lying in my bed, coughing out blood. it was just a dream but the taste of the blood seemed so real i thought i was awake. in my dream i could smell it too. in my dream it happens. in reality i fear it.

but when the disease was so real, i fought. now that it has turned into a ghost and haunts, i fight. but i'm tired.

i should get some rest; the only granted wish because quitting is not an option. and courage. lots of it.

because i got a flat tire early this morning

2010-08-25T10:39:00.004+08:00

even if i stop, everything else will go forward. cars, jeepneys, buses, motorcycles, passers by, time... everything else will pass me by. the same goes for you if you stop too. we will go on without you. they will go on without us.

how lonely is this blog today

2010-07-28T18:38:00.001+08:00

a drop of rain that speaks the same word like everybody else: indifference

.

2010-07-22T20:59:00.002+08:00

malapit na naman ang oras ng uwian. tiningnan ko ang mga gamit ko sa gilid ng mesa ko. kapansin-pansin ang gasgas sa salamin ng helmet ko. isang masakit na paalalang "mag-ingat!" parang mga salita na nagsasalaysay ng isang aral na hindi maaring malimot.

isang biyernes, alas dies kinse ng gabi, sa tapat ng Loyola Memorial Park sa isinumpang lugar ng Parañaque, inabutan ko ang isang asul na isuzu highlander. sakay ako ng aking motor. gumawi ako sa bandang kaliwa upang lampasan ang sasakyan na iyon. pero dahil pareho kami ng bilis, hindi ko na itinuloy ang binabalak.

papalapit kami sa sucat highway, may puwang doon para sa U-Turn. nagmabagal ako ng takbo, hinihinalang kakaliwa ang sasakyan sa bandang kanan ko. nauuna ito sa akin ng dalawang segundo. baka mag-U-Turn ito doon. hinintay kong magpatay-sindi ang ilaw sa kaliwang gawi ng likuran nito. walang ilaw. dederetso ang highlander.

bahagya kong binilisan ang takbo upang tahakin ang anumang natitira sa daan na iyon. nang biglang kumaliwa ang highlander.

blam!

tumba ang motor. tumilapon ako sa harapan. tumama ang tuhod ko sa kalsada. itinukod ko ang mga kamay ko. ngunit ang dagsin ay hindi patatalo sa mahinang kamay ng isang mortal - tuluyan akong bumagsak. at kumayod ang nakakalubkob kong sa aspalto.

limang segundo akong hindi kumilos, inaalam kung humiwalay ang ilang buto o ang diwa at kaluluwa ko. salamat sa Diyos at buhay ako at may lakas para bumangon.

nilapitan ako ang motor ko. nasaktan ang bago kong kaibigan. gasgas ang mukha, baluktot ang durugtungan ng salamin. pingot ang tapakan. may galos sa tambutso. tumapon ang gas. patay at waring hindi na humihinga.

lumabas na pala ang tsuper ng highlander. sinalubong ako ng mukhang nag-aalala. "okay ka lang ba?" tanong niya.

"patulong po sa pagtayo ng motor." sagot ko. inilayo ko ang motor sa daan at itinayo. binuhay ko ito. kahit hirap itong gumising, hindi niya ako binigo.

"nakainom ka ba?" tanong uli ng mama.

"hindi ho." hindi naman ako umiinom.

"kumusta motor mo?"

"ayan ho buhay pa. kayo po, ayos lang ba?"

"may tama yung kotse ko... pero ayos lang, basta ang mahalaga hindi ka napaano."

"hindi po kasi kayo sumignal." napatingin sa akin ang mama at parang napikon sa sinabi ko.

"hindi, araw araw akong dumadaan dito..." paliwanag niya.

"oo nga po. pero hindi po kayo sumignal. kaya akala ko ho, dederetso kayo. sa susunod po huwag niyong kalimutang sumignal para safe tayo."

pinuntahan ko ang motor ko upang suriin. pinaandar naman ng mama ang sasakyan niya at huminto sa hindi kalayuan.

at umalis kami, pero hindi "parang walang nangyari." hindi ko na maiaalis ang sa katawan ko ang pakiramdam na dulot ng gabing iyon.

proverb of the day

2010-07-22T16:33:00.002+08:00

i ponder on why we are lead by those who are incompetent. from the highest seats of the government to this very office. if i find the answer i will tell.

first, let me retell Samuel Butler's words:

o shear swine, all cry but no wool.

p.s. repa, i hope you get to read this.

how lonely is this blog today

2010-07-21T20:06:00.002+08:00

like a drop of water away from the sea,
waiting for the sun to dry him up.

dress down

2010-07-15T14:57:00.004+08:00

everybody is down on dress today. i dressed up because without reading, i deleted the mail from my supervisor. i am not a fan of clutter. i don't mind who is the concessionaire for the month; i don't care about the clubs - those are the mails that usually make my mailbox congested. i just wanted it clean.

but why am i bothered? it doesn't make a difference even if i answer my mails without my bottoms. the scientists won't care.

maybe because it really is different, that i am different just for one day because of indifference. maybe because i don't belong; that in the first place i really don't.

perhaps the scientists have the answer: you don't care, jumar. so do they.

i want to write today

2010-06-08T15:39:00.003+08:00

in an attempt to write again, i do not know how to begin.

my present is too dull to talk about and my future is too distant. my past is not interesting.

ireally intend to write again today but i do not know where to begin.

i’m stuck in a place where everything, from automobiles to people, gets stuck. to where i am headed is so far that no vehicle (because the vehicle is stuck) can ever reach it. the only road that one can take is time. to speak about where i came from is a blabber.

i do want to write something but i don’t know when to begin

today is not the day of pride because today is the day of persistence, carrying over the tasks that were left undone. tomorrow is always uncertain because it depends on what we will finish today. and i don’t want to talk about uncertainty, we have plenty of it in the future. i cannot certainly write yesterday because it’s gone. it never comes back.

i really wanted to write today but there are things to be done. greater in number than the things to be said. heavier than the things to think about.

maybe i can write tomorrow.

but i really wanted to write today.

ora de peligro II

2010-05-11T12:59:00.003+08:00

it seems that the apocalyptic vision of the elections are far from reality. but who can really say? it's not over yet. keep on watching.

image from UnderGround Authority, inc.

ora de peligro

2010-04-28T17:51:00.004+08:00

napakainit ngayon, mas mainit pa yata nung isang taon. dahil ba yan sa sobrang lamig nung taglamig? o sobrang lamig noong taglamig dahil sa sobrang init nung nakaraang tag-init?

nangangamba tuloy ako.kung mas mainit ngayong tag-init, tiyak na mas malamig sa susunod na taglamig. mas malakas din ang mga darating na bagyo. mas malakas pa kay Ondoy at Pepeng. at dahil mas marami ang basura ngayon, at sa palagay ko ay mas kaunti ang mga puno (kitang kita naman kahit hindi tayo kumuha ng statistics), siguradong mas mataas ang mga baha sa susunod na tag ulan.

pero bago mangyari yan, halalan muna. dalawang araw bago mag eleksyon, mahigpit na ang labanan ng mga magkakalaban para sa posisyon. ang partidong ito ay pipilitin wasakin ang makinarya ng kabila upang ang mga botante ng kabila ay mapunta sa kanila o hindi makaboto.

bibilhin ang mga boto, tatawaran ng kabila ng mas mataas.

tatakutin.

tututukan ng baril.

isasabotahe ang kuryente.

pasasabugin ang mga cell sites.

tatambangan ang mga tagabantay ng balota.

susunugin ang mga paaralan kasama ang mga guro.

magkakaron ng failure of elections.

papasok ang mga militar na kailan lamang ay tumaas ang mga sahod.

mapasasailalim ang bansa sa state of emergency.

magdedeklara ng martial law.

masusupil ang demokrasya.

magsasara ang blog na ito.

heto na, heto na...

it's nice to be back

2010-04-28T15:47:00.006+08:00

vacation is over. i'm surprised that nobody was using this workstation until today. perhaps afraid of the filth that i left when i coughed, cursed, sneezed or spoke two months ago. they should have had this unit bathed with alcohol and set it ablaze! the devil disease must be lurking in here, between the spaces around the space bar. i can feel it, my keyboard is sticky.

the noisy crowd will be having their break sooner. the phone occasionally rings, and the tune, how i missed its monotony. distant, suppressed laughter erupts from one corner, and then the relentless rhythm of the keys emerges again. i can see that most of them gained weight, akin to the becoming heavy of our burdens.

and i am in this ground that bears a zero mark, looking at both polarities. one says "again you're doomed!" the other says "i'm happy that you're here."

nag-enjoy pa rin naman ako sa tsa

2010-02-03T07:00:00.005+08:00

masarap mag-relax tuwing umaga kaya naman naisip kong igawa ang sarili ko ng tsa kanina. bumili ako ng otso pesos na lipton breakfast tea sa cafeteria, humingi ng asukal sa kahera at dumerecho sa water dispenser.

isang baboy na empleyado ang nagluwa ng nginuyang chewing gum sa ibabaw ng water dispenser. ang galing, parang work of art!

- work of art na gawa ng isang baboy.

image from http://eshop.maya.cz

parhaps it's true

2010-01-07T05:23:00.003+08:00

a blogger who has less to say has more to do.

image from funnycatsite.com

no post today

2009-10-29T03:38:00.002+08:00

i happened to be somewhere else. a friend calls it "zoning out." you zone out to get out of the zone. out of here. it guarantees absence from where you are at the moment, only that it is not absolute.

so i did zone out. i'm still. but i hope not for long.

isnatser

2009-09-29T19:23:00.005+08:00

kagabi, sa jip habang nagte-text ako, biglang hinila ng isang pwersa ang kamay ko palabas ng bintana. humampas ang celfone ko sa harang at agad akong naalarma. nakita ko ang isang kamay, hawak ang Nokia 6070 na hawak ko rin. hinigpitan ko ang hawak dito. humigpit din ang hawak ng kamay na iyon - kamay ng isang binatilyong may lisik ang mata. nag-agawan kami. sumuko siya.

nagtanong ang mga pasahero, "ano yun?"

"isnatser," sagot ko habang ibinubulsa ang celfone, "ang lakas ng loob ng gagong ito!" patuloy ko.

"huwag mo nang titigan baka balikan ka niyan," sabi ng isang mama. "huwag kang bababa, marami sila."

tama ang mama, marami sila. apat, lima, mga tambay at nagtitinda.

"wala man lang bang pulis dito, o gwardya?" tanong ko habang lumilinga-linga sa labas.

"wala," sagot ng isang pasahero habang natatawa.

tinitigan ko ang isnatser, itinatak sa isipan ang humpak na mukha na gusto kong sapakin. pero ano nga ba ang magagawa ko kung magkita kami muli? wala namang pulis. walang ebidensya. wala na ang mga nakakita. ano kaya ang mangyayari sa susunod na jip na may lulang isang tanga na magte-text habang nakatigil ang jip?

kasabwat kaya ang tsuper? hindi niya agad pinatakbo ang sasakyan. hindi kaya niya napansin? ayaw pa nga akong suklian... sabi ng mga pasahero marami raw ganyan. sa susunod, payo ko sa isnatser, pumili ng jip na walang harang.

"buti mahigpit ang pagkakahawak mo," sabi ng isang babae.

sinagot ko naman, "ka-text ko kasi gelpren ko."

The One Winged Buttterfly

2009-09-09T20:26:00.009+08:00

we were walking home after a rehearsal when Julian suddenly asked if i knew the story about the one winged butterfly. i said i don't. he said he heard the story from our all time favorite children's show, Batibot.

it was about a butterfly who had only one wing and could not fly. looked down upon by those who are complete, the butterfly with one wing lost faith in himself. the poor fellow wandered around very sad, feeling sorry for his handicap.

then somewhere in his wandering he found other butterflies like him. he was surpirsed to know that there were many of them. bound by their desire to fly, they anchored themselves together and flew as one. and they went very high, surpassing those who looked down upon them.

i simply found the story worth sharing. in us we find its significance.

image from: http://naturetrek.co.uk

The Perfect Analogy

2009-09-03T21:05:00.003+08:00

the steam coming from a glass of hot water was a sight to behold. and before i knew it, the sight to behold was gone. i stirred the water, made a relentless whirlpool out of it. if i were small like a particle that makes us sneeze that whirlpool would be my doom.

i swiftly tore a sachet of coffee and poured its content into it. they were tiny particles that could make us sneeze. that made the whirlpool their doom. and most were dissolved quickly, turning the water brown in a blink.

but a portion of the particles resisted, stayed on top of the spinning vortex. but i am a force and i will have them condemned for my gratification so i stirred again, eradicating all of them. lightly, i tapped the spoon at the mouth of the glass, sending a few drops back to where they belong.

and i beheld the sight that before i knew was gone. a glass of coffee. strong and rich like the company.

Jumar, Jumar II

2009-08-26T13:57:00.004+08:00

jumar, jumar you're so tired

why were you absent? my head feels wired

jumar, jumar always tired

what will the boss say? "get him fired!"

image from http://yinyang11.files.wordpress.com/2009/05/tired_cat.jpg

ang pagkabobo

2009-08-25T12:33:00.003+08:00

madalas wala akong maiblog. kung madalas akong magblog, ang sasabihin ko ay: minsan wala akong maiblog. tapos kasunod nun ang tanong na: bakit? at sasagutin ko naman sa susunod na talata (tinanong ko pa si Louie, author ng Oblivious Days, kung ano sa tagalog ang paragraph).

heto naman at sasagutin ko na yung tanong. marami kasing pumapasok sa isip ko galing sa kung saan-saang direksyon. hindi ito maiproseso nang tama ng utak ko kaya hayan, magulo. walang pagkatuto. natututo ang isang tao kung maipoproseso niya ang impromasyon na nakuha niya. higit ang pagkatuto kung maisasapraktika niya ang mga impormasyon na ito.

heto na naman at nakaisip ako ng pangalawang sagot sa tanong ko: wala talagang impormasyon na pumapasok sa utak ko. kung ganon, wala akong maipoproseso.

pero bakit mabubuo ang post na ito kung walang impormasyon na pumapasok sa utak ko? simple lang: ayaw ng utak ko na mabobo kaya nagsusulat ako. ang pagsusulat ay isang anyo ng intrapersonal communication. ang intrapersonal communication, sa salitang madali, ay ang pakikipag-usap sa sarili. dito, ikaw ang tagapaghatid at tagatanggap ng mensahe. wala namang mali, wala naman ibang babasa ng post na ito kundi ako. habang isinusulat ko ito, kinakausap ko daw ang sarili ko.

kabilang ang intrapersonal communication o pakikipag-usap sa sarili sa mga categories of intelligence. may walong uri ng talino sa teoryang ito: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theory_of_multiple_intelligences

ngayong wala nang pinatutunguhan ang post na ito, siguro ay dapat ko na itong tapusin. kung walang maiambag sa talino mo ang trabaho mo at ang kapaligiran nito, o maging ang mga tao dito, tulad sa akin, intrapersonal communication ang bagay sayo.

State of Being

2009-08-24T11:15:00.016+08:00

i just can't fast forward time so i have to wait until the shift ends. at this moment my mind is adrift, i picture san pedro bathed by the late afternoon sun. the band will meet after dark, when the streets were cooled down.

now how would i tell what was up a year ago? i do not even know where to begin. with my story? it's not important. like i said: about myself should not always be about myself. what matters at this moment is the band. it has been a year! happy birthday to us! we should apir!

hurray!

i wish i could do something more than telling so that my mates know how hard they kick asses and how i appreciate and respect all of them. with my small arms, i can't hug them all at once. perhaps i should kiss them one by one. :-) hah! you guys make me gay again.

and there are things that are worth looking back, yet more to do and to look forward to. i won't get tired of playing with them. there is nothing as true and as pure as the band's love for art and its sincerity to share what it has created, which is among the few things that keep me alive. in return, i will live to keep those things alive.

perhaps i should make a birthday wish: a good job for craig; good times for billy, a good girl for julian, and good health for allen and me. i thank them for everything.

sorry for being incoherent, i could not contain everything about the band in the present state of my mind. probably because Ethereal Cereal is not just a state of mind -- it is a state of being.

http://etherealcereal.multiply.com

Jumar, Jumar

2009-08-24T06:55:00.003+08:00

jumar, jumar, you're so late

were you ever on time? no, not a date

jumar, jumar, always late

what will the boss say? "terminate!"

a better man

2009-08-18T13:37:00.003+08:00

man: are you a good man?

good man: yes, i am.

man: do you believe that gloria is evil?

good man: yes, i do.

man: do you think she is triumphant?

good man: she's still in the seat, i should say yes.

man: have you shared your thoughts to anybody?

good man: no.

man: have you tried, at least, to influence someone, your child, wife, mother, father, brother, sister, friend, colleague, neighbor, servant, student, superior, or subordinate that she is indeed what you think?

good man: no, that would be a waste of time. we know she won't let go of the seat. besides, i'm too busy trying to be a better man...

man: are you willing, given the chance, to tell her "step down?"

good man: that is very disrespectful, so no. i'd rather do nothing and wait for the 2010 elections. why should i?

man: because you're a good man.

good man: you should look for a better man.

when boredom strikes...

2009-08-18T11:52:00.002+08:00

you type anything into the google search bar and hit on search! to my surprise, our IT department hasn't done anything with facebook yet. so i wrote my name on the book of faces.

to what purpose? reconnection? making the world smaller? it might dawn on me when boredom strikes again.

image from http://bigmarketing.files.wordpress.com

Paalam Les Paul

2009-08-17T07:19:00.008+08:00

kung mahilig ka sa musika, malamang na nakarating sa sulok ng isipan mo ang pangalan niya. Les Paul. pumanaw na siya noong ika-13 ng Agosto sa edad na 94, dahil sa pneumonia. tinagurian siyang "father of the electric guitar."

sa kanya ipinangalan ang sikat na sikat na modelong Gibson Les Paul. siyempre, siya ang nakaisip ng konsepto nun. dumating ang panahon na sa tingin niya ay hindi na sapat ang tunog ng mga acoustic guitar kaya umisip siya ng bagong design. una itong tinawag na "the log." hanggang ngayon, isa ang Gibson Les Paul sa mga gitarang nagpapatulo ng laway ng mga rakista, beterano man o baguhan. rebolusyon.

konsepto niya rin ang multi-track recording, paraan ng pagre-record gamit ang iba pang record na pinagpatong-patong o pinagsama-sama. ganyan tayo mag record ngayon. rebolusyon.

isa si Les Paul sa mga dapat tingalain ng mga musikero. dito, http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/8200385.stm, maari mong basahin ang balita.

nakalulungkot at nangangaubos na mga taong "brilliant." Francis M., Michael Jackson (may saltik nga lang), Cory Aquino, Les Paul. sino kaya ang susunod? sino kaya ang nagmana ng kanilang mga genes? marahil panahon na para tayo naman ang gumawa. tutal, nariyan na ang legacy na kanilang iniwan. hindi na siguro tayo mahihirapan; nariyan na ang daan, tatahakin na lang.

image from http://americansongwriter.com/

you can never fetch a glorious pail of water without me

2009-08-12T10:56:00.012+08:00

never glory is easy to get
like to fetch a pail of water from that hill
our guts must conquer that egoistic well
that caused his crown to break
and pricked my eyes to swell

on everything he did behind was i
if blessed by luck, success is his and failure always mine
behind his grandeur i, laughing, stood there by
as i laughed at him when he fell down
and slandered me until i die

was there a string of pride for me
when this tragic comedy was through?
this reproachful female solitude
and meekness in your generation is nothing new

how can i change the way they tell our bitter rhyme?
will they be aware about your arrogant,
conceited pace?
where is the glorious pail of water
that we failed to grasp?
will they believe I tumbled after just to save your face?

image from http://ohhowcutekids.com.

The Boss

2009-08-07T11:46:00.006+08:00

the Philippine Daily Inquirer made a list of legislative profiles that you might find interesting and informative enough for referencing. just follow the link: http://politics.inquirer.net/

if you find it difficult to choose who is the lesser evil between trapos Manny Villar and Mar Roxas, who are both aiming for the presidential seat, and if you find their appeal to sympathy not appealing at all and does otherwise, just give a click. perhaps we can suspend the "choosing-by-the-degree-of-evil-voting-way-of-the-jedi" for once and be rational. yesterday was the time to be rational but we weren't. today is not too late.

come on, comprehend their resumes! act like the boss! after all, the Philippines is a democratic country. and in democracy, the people is the boss.

Jests of Irresponsibilities

2009-08-07T10:57:00.020+08:00

sarcastic laughter erupted and filled the office. put the blame on some irresponsible people who think that journalism is a joke. not intentional? could be. but what are the editors of the publication doing? the picture was scanned from page 20 of the Manila Bulletin, August 6, 2009. they should be making their apologies by now.

ver, very, very dishonorable. who was that ABS-CBN official who said that the heart of a network is public service? some quick witted guy, jojo from Manila Tonight, posted the captured tv moment in the forum.

needless to say, a picture speaks a thousand words.

The Final L

2009-08-06T07:03:00.005+08:00

at the farthest corners of my memory, i can remember my grandmother teaching me how to make an "L" by a hand. what was that supposed to mean, i only learned when a teacher taught me history in school.

but as i grew, the "L" had a new meaning, a colonial meaning. we flash it to people we hate, or do not like at the least, as an insult.

now that she's gone, i would flash my final "L" to her, with its sincerest meaning as a Filipino. truly, she may fall short of our definition of what a good politician is, but this is not the place and time to do that. there is no need to. after all, people are seen not as a figure in the end, but as a character. and she is a character worth looking. her character is worth having.

now that she's gone, i can feel a slight grin in the face of evil. there are lots of things to look forward to, there are lots of things to be done. perhaps i can begin by flashing an "L" to her who has survived, in its vilest meaning.

and let us take Cory's words, let's ask ourselves what have we done for the country. if we think that we have done little, if not nothing, now is the time to do something.

a bunch of fools

2009-08-03T10:34:00.019+08:00

in the gloomy confines of this company, i can count my friends with just one hand. who would want to make friends with fools?

last time my friend told us about a girl who he said was very stupid. she took a seat not far from our favorite spot, turned the loud speaker of her mobile phone on, set its volume to the highest level and smoked. when she saw one of her friends, she yelled: "WAAAAAAHHHHH!!! GIRRRLLL, kumusta ka na, blah, blah, blah?!!"

my friend just couldn't say a word. does a person really need to do that? for what purpose?

unfortunately, her breaktime overlapped with ours. we needed to endure the loudness of her folly - loud speaker phone and constant blabbering. my friend said he couldn't even hear himself thinking so we have to leave our favorite spot a number of times. fortunately, July has ended. I hope, from the bottom of my heart, not to see that girl again. but too bad, she is not the only one who does that.

a few months ago i took notice of a group of boys by the next table. their big talk about special moves caught my ear. i heard crossovers, lay ups, spins and many basketball jutsus. i looked at them and saw the one who talked bigger, he was fat. a question crossed my mind like a bullet. "a fat boy like this, could he really be sporty?" and i saw his hand while telling how flashy his tricks were to the other "sporty" guy. it was as if he was holding a playstation controller, pushing this button and that, in splendidly specific and accurate intervals.

the last time i saw a group of boys talking like that is when i was in high school. and if not basketball or virtual basketball is it that these boys are talking about, it would be DOTA.

there was also a time when we were overly excited to take a break. we went straight to our favorite spot. what a view to behold, a mountain of paper cups! a valley of used table napkins! a forest of cigarette butts! a landscape of trash! aren't there any trash bin? of course, neither the bin nor the trash has a mind of its own to come to each other, right?. can we say that those things are doings of people in right mind?

of course, we cleaned the place. who would want to dine on a table like that? and there are always trash on almost all the tables.

and one night when i was dumping my waste into the toilet, an employee occupied the next cubicle. the floors of the wash rooms in the company are tiled, black and glossy. i could see the reflection and the shadow of the person standing in the next cubicle, he was masturbating! i never heard his piss going down, my ears would not fail me. he did not flush either. after a few minutes he pulled a length of the tissue paper and wiped his member, threw the paper into the bin, zipped his pants and walked out.

i witnessed such perversity twice. there were also instances that piss, instead of being in the toilet bowl, are sprawled on the floor in its stinking glory. it made me wonder where the janitors were. would a person find happiness in cleaning up that place for such people? perhaps the janitors left to puke.

then earlier i went to the wash room to take a leak. i usually use the cubicles because they offer privacy. i closed and locked the door. the lid of the toilet bowl was closed so i lifted it up with my foot. and ooohh, the smell! shit floats! shit! the person who had just shit is shit! now i know how my friend felt being in that situation a few weeks ago. shit, indeed it was. i immediately stepped on the flush lever, sending the shit of a fool away, hoping for the awful smell to go as well. i hoped i could flush the fool to hell too.

yeah, you might ask, "what's up with the people here?!" the flush is functional, is it hard to pull the flush lever? what's wrong about having a little concept of discipline? even cats have enough decency to cover their shit. he doesn't even have to do that, why can't that fool flush?

i believe that we can wave our hands as long are nobody gets hit. on a similar note, i don't think we have to dodge to avoid getting hit by the waving of others. but the general thinking in the gloomy confines of this company is something else: everybody just want to wave a hand.

that is how i kept my friends as few as the fingers of my hand, aside from the reason that counting few, in this aspect, is easy. ultimately, there is no need to make much of friends here considering the fact that: i am surrounded by a bunch of fools.

Kuya Danny

2009-07-29T04:43:00.055+08:00

warning: this post is longer and more nonsensical than the usual. save your time.

my mate, Craig, moved to his new place in a nearby village last two days. i knew a hand could give a good deal of ease so i went there. i just put on a skinny jeans and a tattered white shirt, hair uncombed. i never knew what revelations and nonsense were about to come that day.

along the way somebody called, "hey, come here." i was surprised, we know what those things could mean when you pass a group of bystanders by. but they were no bystanders, they were busy men piling hollow blocks that should be used for the expansion of a house. i stood there for a moment and looked intently to the person who called, hesitant to come close of course, a man who wore a cap, in blue shirt and shorts. he had sunken eyes, perhaps because of age. he sat there like a king.

what the hell does this want? i said in my mind. then i looked away and began to walk again.

but he insisted, "come here i said!" and extended his hand trying to get a hand shake. "i'm your kuya danny." yes, kuya danny whatever, are you trying to bully me? i thought. but bullies do not shake hands, they throw fists. so we shook hands.

"you appear out of the ordinary," he said to me. "you look like John Lennon!"

i don't think so, i wondered.

"are you into music?"

"yes." i answered.

"are you a lead guitarist?"

"yes i am." i play rhythm too, is it a big deal? i admire and respect guitarists who can keep a good rhythm while playing a wide variety of chords, some "lead" guitarists can't do that. rhythm or lead, they are both guitarists. i prefer to be called simply a guitarist.

"i'm also in a band, my mate just moved to his new place not far from here. so i have to go there to give a hand." i said back to him, interrupting some of his unimportant blabbering.

"good. grab a chair." he ordered, as if he was the boss! perhaps he was. with the men around working, he was the only one in a chair. he could also be a rock guru, i could learn some new things. yeah, i know some people who are into rock and roll who act as if they rule the world. and you must have a great deal of wisdom to rule the world.

"but i have to help my mate..."

"no, just sit there for moment. i'm just going to ask a few things." i was the one interrupted by him this time.

okay fine. just for a moment. i grabbed a chair and sat facing him. he must really have been someone. besides, men who love rock and roll have my respect. they are not stupid not to love the music in the first place, so i thought a little chat would do no harm.

and he began, "you know, Lennon, when he died, my friend who was a fan hung himself."

what the f***! death? "oh, yeah? that's sad." i have to answer out of false modesty. perhaps it's his best way to begin a story.

"yeah, it's true. what do the new bands play today? trash! they play trash. what do you play? can you play, like, uh, this?" he pretended to be playing a guitar, plucked its imaginary strings and hummed some weird sound. "tiw, ni niw, wini niw, niw niiiw."

cut that crap, that's what posers do.

"yes, that, can you play something from, uh, Gary Moore?"

"that would be difficult, let me study first."

"you know, when you play, you don't give a hell about anything. you just play! what do you play?"

"we play original stuff, we actually have six songs by now." not bad, you're interested in music.

"well, let me hear it! you should give me a copy."

"sure. but we don't have a record with a demo quality yet."

"all right." he paused and looked at me. "you have an asset. do you have a degree?"

"a journalism degree, yes."

"that's cool! from what school?"

"PUP."

"great! you're one hell of a guy, huh. do you want to use a computer?"

the hell no! i'm gonna lend my friend a hand. "no. i have a job and i use computers often."

"oh, yeah? where, what's your job?"

in the God forsaken place, Parañaque that is, i'm a wage slave. prick! "in Parañque, i work in an office. it deals with journals and publishing."

"good. what course have you finished? what school?"

our conversation was going nowhere, i felt i really have to go. "journalism, in PUP." oh my, three second memory. what a thick skull is it that you have.

"are you married?" he continued asking as he grabbed my finger, trying to remove my ring. "i can't remove it."

you can't remove that, hah! "i have a girl but we're not married yet." i was beginning to get pissed. suddenly, he looked away.

"see that boy walking, that's my son." he pointed to a healthy boy about the age of ten and called him.

"hey son!" the boy couldn't have heard. "son!" he called again, this time the boy must have heard but did not look. "son!" he called again but the boy pretended not to hear. "son." he called once more. the boy walked by, as if the man who called did not exist, was not real. "son..." the boy did not look. not even a slightest glance.

denial, that is what it meant. i felt ashamed for the "father." for a son to deny his father, something must be wrong.

he put down his head and murmured, "that's my son..."

and where is the man who is the boss, the rocker who rules the world? i started to have doubts. "perhaps you can go with me to my friend who needs my help, right? it would be nice if you get acquainted." i said, hoping to get a reason to leave and to save his face at least.

"yeah sure. let's go."

so i convinced the loony to leave. i thought i did it right, that i can finally go to Craig's place but this danny truly have a poor memory. he was without a purpose, he had already forgotten what we were walking for.

he stopped in front of a house and invited me in. "let's go in, this is my home."

what's up with you now?! i should go. he opened the gate and grabbed me by my shoulder, like a friend would to a friend who is trying to refuse an invitation. his place was good, it faced south, it had a garden and a little pond, but no fish. between the big windows was their door. before we entered the gate, he asked for my name. i told him my name and shook hands with me again.

we sat by the pond as he began talking again. "you know, i have my compositions too. when i compose, i prefer it to be simple, but not ordinary." his eyes seemed aglow.

then a girl in sneakers, blue jeans and blue shirt came out of the house. her face was full of purpose and urgency to care about us. perhaps she might haven't noticed, but i know she knew we were there, like the boy.

"did you see her?" he asked. "that's my daughter."

"yeah i did but not that much. is she your first?" i talked back and asked. he did not answer, though.

"let's go in." he said instead.

i could smell his daughter's cologne when we came into the house. one window allowed light to enter the spacious living room, the little space behind the window had a carpet on the tiled floor and a hammock is attached to the walls that support the ends of the window. the other big window i did not see, however. it could be the window for the master's bed room.

"you sit there," he ordered. i made myself comfortable on the sofa. if not because of the animated tv show that the boy was watching, the house would be in deafening silence. and again he called his son, but still he did not yield to it.

but danny was persistent, "son, meet my friend." the boy looked at me, i forced a smile and said hi to him. the boy looked and smiled back at me but not to his father, and went into his room.

it created an awful feeling to me. i wasn't sure what was that feeling but it was clear that i developed a felling of sympathy, not for danny but for the child. what could have danny done to suffer such punishment? denial? did he sold his soul to the devil for rock and roll, lived a kick ass life, acquired a good house, and then the devil began to take its toll? i couldn't almost believe i was still with that loony, i was getting upset. so i sent a text message to Craig, told him that i was being harassed by a weirdo.

he put on a pair of jeans and said, "you know, i have a gun." what?! are you going to shoot yourself after shooting me? do i have to suffer the same fate like Lennon did? i felt a tap on my spine. but i knew it was a bluff. if he really had a gun, he should have shot himself long before. i was right, and all right.

what took place after we came out of the house, i could not digest. we walked along the streets of the subdivision while this man said "ho!" to every person he met, as if they were close. worse is that he kept introducing me as his friend, and that my name is John Lennon. for goodness' sake, give a dead man a break! it gave me the chills. i was not even trying to look like Lennon, or talk and act like him. i'm just a fan and it is very unfair for the dead man (that ironically is still alive). and we continued walking, and he said "ho!" to everyone, some replied, some looked at him in disdain, if not indifference, and they looked at me, their prejudism i almost could not bear. yeah right, tell me who your friends are and i'll tell you who you are.

finally, after infinity, we arrived at Craig's place. i asked the landlord if some guys have been there and i was told that they have already left. the only choice was to go to Julian's. so we walked a long way to get there. it would only take me a few minutes but with this man with feeble knees, it could take forever. when i was finally there i knocked at the gate and changed stories with him, about where did Craig and the others go. i learned that Billy and Calvin (Craig's brother) was there in their house and that Craig went to the store with his sweety to buy some stuff.

i told danny to sit on a chair in the garage and wait for a moment. "i've been harassed by this weirdo!" i exclaimed to Julian. i wonder if he saw the exasperation on my face.

then Julian's mother asked, "who is that? do you know that guy?"

"he said he is danny," i replied. "but i don't know him. he said i look like Lennon and then he did not let me leave and he did not leave me too."

her lips that have always worn a smile curved into a slight frown and a shadow of disappointment veiled her eyes.

what have i done! i brought a stranger. i'm in deep shit! i should kick this man right away. i was so embarrassed.

surprisingly, the slightest reason and modesty that was left in danny's mind worked. he introduced himself to Julian's parents. "good afternoon, i'm danny." and he shook hands with them. "i live there at Venus street. does this place had a fish pond? i used to buy fish here back in the early Aurora days." he tried to start a conversation.

"oh, really?" Julian's mother replied. "yes, that was our business but we called it off, it was not growing."

danny explained how the hell did he get there in their place. "i saw this boy, he looks like John Lennon." then Julian's parents ruptured into laughter.

"i thought you were kidding," Julian's mother said to me.

danny interrupted us and talked to them in Ilonggo dialect. she replied in Ilonggo too. i understood nothing about that little talk but i knew that their doubt and fear subsided. i could breathe again. whew!

i apologized to them for bringing a loony, that was the sincerest apology i have ever made to my friend's parents in my whole life. then i was told that everything was fine, since that man just live around the place but i should be careful next time. i nodded to show my agreement and that i take the lesson truthfully. and the parents left to do business. i will apologize again next time i drop by to their house, and everytime i drop by to their house.

but this danny could not get enough. this time it was Julian that he was trying to harass. he talked about very incoherent nonsense, i felt sad for Julian, he does not deserve that. but this man just could not stop talking!

"do you know why Kamikaze is very popluar?" he asked. "it's the showmanship! yeah, so, you know who did Eric Clapton took for his band members? he took none! because he plays so damn good. that's why he went solo. and who was that man, he's black, and plays the guitar with his teeth?" he again held the invisible guitar and gnashed its imaginary strings.

"BB King?" Julian made a guess.

"yeah, it's BB King!" danny exclaimed. but it was Jimi Hendrix, in fact, who played the guitar with his teeth. danny was out of his wits. "and did you know how did the old rock musicians knew how to play? they listend to the records, i mean the big black discs. they play it, nonstop until they get it right. and the Beatles, do you know their other bassist?"

a question mark on Julian's face. "did the Beatles had another bassist? i know about the first drummer who left but the other bassist?" he shook his head. this man is crazy. but danny was not able to come up with a name. his balls were srhinking! "were you in a band?" it was inquisitive Julian's turn.

"no." danny replied. "i get them drunk before they play and after. but when i sing, the leaves fall." wow! that should have been a good laugh for Julian and me, but we dared not to, out of misplaced sense of respect. we respect older persons. but when they do not respect themselves by their words and actions, or they do not respect others, and yet we respect them, that's when respect becomes misplaced.

he called Billy too, we introduced him as one of our guitarists.

"so you have a lot of guitarists?" he exclaimed in surprise. "you know, America? they have a lot of guitarists, that's why they sound so good! can you beat them?"

i looked down on the ground to hide my face. all of that rock and roll, the wisdom to rule the world, the boss, the playing with all your soul, the kick ass composition, all the good things i saw in him has gone like the leaves that fall when he sings. i wondered if the love of his children went away because he sang. but they are not leaves. what could have danny done?

he called Billy too, and talked to him like he talked to me and Julian. but we should end it sooner, or be burried deep under the falling leaves. what should i do now, this weirdo must go. then Calvin called, "hey Jumar, Billy, come here this is very urgent!" hah! thanks Calvin, you're a hero! then we went into the house and slammed the gate on danny's face.

"we must get rid of him, what should we do now?" i asked, my brain had nothing to be of good use that day.

"that's why i called you," Calvin replied. "let's make a plan... let's tell him we're doing something important."

"okay, i'll go out and tell him." then i went out but danny was no longer there. "he's gone." i proclaimed.

but he returned and banged the gate! i was about to reach a state of panic but i should not. "okay, i'll go tell him to go now." then i went out and told him, "hey kuya danny, we have to do something very important now. i'm afraid you must go home."

"yeah, i'm actually going but please come here first." he begged me to go out. "just one more thing. can you ask your friends for a ten pesos?" what, are you a loony begging alms?

"oh, i'm afraid they have nothing to give." i reached for the purse inside my pocket and held out a five peso coin. "here, you can take this." go back to your nice cave and sleep in your hammock while waiting for your daughter, or play with your son.

"thanks!" he grabbed me by the shoulder, like a bestfriend would to a friend who just gave a memento because he is going to a far place. "i'm going home now. you take care, i told your friends to take care of you too. you know, i've learned a lot from you guys."

"okay, me too." i said back. perhaps what i said was true. then i went in, sat on the sofa and wished for a cup of coffee. thanks to Julian for the good cup, it was invigorating. and my apologies again to his mom and dad. i promise i will never talk to strangers again.

but this danny no longer seems a stranger to me. although i do not know what he did, i knew a little about his past and present. what i cannot know is his future. perhaps he will buy a gun and shoot himself after some significant rock musician dies. or buy his son a guitar and live again, when his son becomes a rock musician on the rise. but how is he going to do that? he's broke.

so this danny was a bluff, a broke poser. a "has been" that could not let go of the past. what nonsense was that, i could not believe i've wasted so much time and strength being with a loony. but i know i've learned much just for a short time.

if you cannot decide what you want to become, perhaps you can begin by knowing what you do not want to become. if what you find is what you do not want, look away from it soon, until you find what you want. and keep looking at what you have found: what you want to become.

let's not become a kuya danny.

Ang metikulosong paggastos ni meyor at ang simpleng taong tulad ng ermats ko

2009-07-25T05:34:00.010+08:00

noong hunyo, inip na inip si ermats sa paghihintay na maaprubahan at mapirmahan ni mayor Aldrin San Pedro ang appointment paper niya. nag-apply siya sa Pedro E. Diaz Highschool bilang isang English teacher noong bakasyon. ang katwiran: hinihintay pa ang evaluation ng mga ka-batch niyang nag-apply. nang sa ganoon, isang appointment na lang ang gagawin para makapanayam sila ni meyor. kung pasado sa interbyu, pasok. may sweldo na sila galing sa pondo ng siyudad ng Muntinlupa.

unang araw pa lang ng klase, nagturo na si ermats. gratis lang. makalipas ang dalawang linggo, pinatigil siya ng head teacher dahil mahirap naman mag-volunteer at tila ba ang pag-aprub ni meyor ay malayo sa salitang sigurado. pagkatapos ng isang linggong pahinga, pinabalik na siya, aba't tila lumiwanag ang lahat, mukhang aaprub na si meyor. pero hindi pa pala. laking gulat pa nga nila nang malaman na napirmahan na pala ni meyor yung appointment paper ng isang aplikante. ang katwiran: sa loob daw ng munisipyo nagtatrabaho ang asawa nun.

at naghintay pa nang matagal si ermats. kesyo, kababalik lang ni meyor galing sa kung saan, busy si meyor, hinihintay yung iba pang evaluation, hindi maisingit sa iskedyul at kung anu-anong dahilan na isa lang naman ang gustong iparating: importante si meyor.

bakit, siya ba ang magpapasahod? hindi ba't ang taong bayan na nagbabayad ng buwis? at sino ba ang naglilingkod at pinaglilingkuran? hindi ba't ang punong bayan ang naglilingkod sa mamamayan? sino ba ang punong bayan at sino ba ang mamamayan sa kanilang dalawa ni ermats? mukhang nakalimutan na ata ni meyor kung anong ibig sabihin ng serbisyo publiko ah...

oo, kailangan bantayan ni meyor kung saan gagamitin ang pondo ng Muntinlupa kaya dapat maging metikuloso sa paggasta nito. nang sa ganoon, hindi ito masayang o mapunta sa mga bagay na walang kabuluhan.

metikuloso ba kamo? e ano yung ipinabungkal niyang kalsada patungo sa Susana Heights exit, na iilang buwan pa lang na natutuyo e ipinatibag na ng PNCC dahil pinagaganda ang SLEX at sakop pala iyon ng kanilang hurisdiksyon? anong nangyari sa buwis na ipinagpasalamat niya na ibinayad niyo (kung taga-Munti ka), na metikulosong ginastos para ipa-semento yung kalsada na tinibag din naman?

ano rin yung nangyari sa mga bangketa na pinakapal niya yung semento at pinapinturahan ng green? hindi ba't tinibag lang ng mga may-ari ng establisimento ang ilang bahagi noon dahil hindi makaahon yung mga sasakyan nila sa bangketa para pumarada? durog na ang ibang bahagi nito, na nangangahulugang durog na rin ang perang ginastos para dito.

aspaltadong kalsada. hindi naman lingid sa kaalaman natin na tinatangay ng tubig ang aspalto, hindi ba? tapos may mga pinturang puti, mga guhit, na meron pang "STOP." eh hindi naman mabasa yung STOP maliban na lang kung nandun ka mismo sa pinagsulatan noon, hindi ba? at mukhang malapit na iyon mabura. sabagay, bago sumapit ang susunod na lokal na eleksyon, washed out na yung aspaltadong kalye, burado na yung mga guhit at "STOP" at kulay semento na uli yung mga luntiang bangketa. pwede na uli gawing bagong proyekto.

hah! metikuloso pala.

oo, maraming nagawang magandang "proyekto si meyor." yung himpilan ng mga bumbero at pulis malapit sa Filinvest, aprub! yung pagtatalaga ng sakayan ng mga jip (may mga hindi nga lang sumusunod na tsuper at pasahero), ayos! yung mga kongkretong harang sa gitna ng kalsada para maiwasan ang counterflow na dahilan ng trapik, pwede! marami pang iba, at alam natin na madaragdagan pa yang mga yan. bigyan naman natin si meyor ng "credit," ika nga.

pero ika rin nga, kung masyadong maningning ang isang bagay, mahirap makita ang anino nito.

at dapat ba na nakabalandra sa bawat proyektong natapos ang mukha niya na para bang labis ang pagkalugod sa kanyang "serbisyo publiko?" nakangiti ba iyon o nakangisi? parang... nakangiwi, tama ba? at pagkatapos noon magpapasalamat sa buwis na ibinayad nyo dahil natapos ang "proyekto niya." hindi ba't proyekto iyon dapat ng Muntinlupa dahil buwis ng mga taga-Munti ang ginamit doon? anong "proyekto ni meyor?!" at hindi dapat pasalamatan ang mga mamamayan dahil tungkulin naman talaga nila ang magbayad ng buwis. ang dapat ipagpasalamat ay yung mga bagay na natanggap natin. tumatanggap ba si meyor ng buwis?

heto, pagkatapos ng maraming pagod at pagtitiis, nakapanayam na ni meyor si ermats kasabay ng mga ka-batch niyang nag-apply. aprub, may sahod na siya galing sa pondo ng Muntinlupa. pero wala pala silang 13th month pay. ang sabi ni uncle na nagturo rin noon sa pampublikong paaralan, ganun talaga sa gobyerno kung natanggap ka sa trabaho sa buwan ng Hulyo. may patakaran pala na walang 13th month pay ang mga natanggap sa trabaho pagkatapos ng ika-anim na buwan ng taon o pagkalipas ng Hunyo. ganito nga kaya talaga? dapat ba na ganito?

"e kaya pala ngayon lang pinirmahan ni meyor yung appointment paper niyo," sagot ko nang muling si ermats ay nagreklamo.

two exciting things that kick the gloom away

2009-07-22T05:44:00.020+08:00

only two things at work can excite me: the over breaks and the end of shifts. the former offers the freedom of the mind and the latter the freedom of the body from the gloomy confines of this company.

one might love to slap my face and kick my ass and say, "why not resign you prick? i'm sick of your whining, bastard!" i've said that to myself many times before and if i could kick my ass myself out of this blackhole, i would. why not?

my comrade said: "us, being in this company is just like a ship that is blown by a bad wind, away from its course to nowhere. it may not seem right at first but there could be a good reason... like a distant storm from which the bad wind came from, thus, leading us away from disaster. and while at that nowhere, we use the serenity to think again, about where we really want to go and plan how to get there. thence we sail again, using the bad wind to our advantage."

(wow, it was as if he was the captain of a legendary pirate ship! i can imagine the Flying Dutchman and the Black Pearl together.)

using the bad wind to our advantage we did. we did over breaks, salvaged its serenity and pondered. we freed our minds from the gloomy confines of this company. besides, if the job requires our every strength, challenges the highest of our intelligence, is worthy of our time because it has a universal relevance and gives enough not just to survive, we won't give a damn about the ship-blown-away-by-bad-wind analogy!

it's true. we know people who do not give a shit about that.

and using the bad wind to our advantage we did. my comrade returned to the academe in pursuit of a master's degree. i bought a guitar in pursuit of rock and roll. all of that, we do at the end of the shifts. yes, it requires every strength, it challenges the highest of our intelligence, it is worthy of our time because it has a universal relevance (aren't the teachings of Socrates not relevant? aren't the ancient tablets that were deciphered to have been instructing how to perform music relevant?). it gives us life.

it's true. we know people who are in the same struggle to do what they love, what gives them life. and still some people we know will not give a shit about that.

there is light indeed, amidst this colossal structure of gloom founded upon selfishness and nurtured strong by our society's crooked reasoning. it can be found with the help of a good friend and the two things that excite me.

why not resign? i will, once i have finished using the bad wind to my advantage.

i really do

2009-07-17T01:14:00.011+08:00

i have already kicked the arses out of my tasks so boredom stroke again. as always, a wonderful thing happened.

i searched the web to find anything about one of my favorite artists, Dong Abay. wikipedia has always been very informative but it offered nothing new. i tried multiply but all i saw were pictures and some words that seemed to be copied from wiki. i pushed through and lo, i did the magic click! it led me to here. after reading that post from a fellow fan, i think i know him better now than earlier. of course, i do hope to know him more.

i really did relate to the author of the blog though we are a generation apart. i was a second grader when i first heard Yano's songs. i know just how he feels and we think excactly the same about Dong. he is a genius. he touches lives. how i wish i can see him sing live and have his autograph. :-) did i make my being a fan so obvious?

there is no better way of grasping his brilliance than listening to his songs. i hope you do in your free time. really, we will learn a lot from him. i hope to learn more though, i'd really love to.

now he is absent from the music scene again. although there are records that we can listen to, i wish that he returns.

(isang tanaga)

2009-07-16T02:00:00.007+08:00

ang kandila sa araw
ay hindi mapapansin,
lalamunin ng silaw
at buktot na pagtingin

sino nga bang hangal ang magsisindi ng kandila sa araw? hangal nga ba siyang maituturing?

screws

2009-07-15T01:08:00.025+08:00

i am presently consumed by work so i am ready to fail a quiz about current events, should there be any. indeed the internet is a good source of information. i happened to know what is just up to the cyberspace.

last week, i learned that NBI arrested Joe Bert Lazarte, the author of the blog Flesh Asia Daily and that ABS-CBN inaccurately aired the news (which is not surprising). intrigued was i, i went to FAD to see if the site has crumbled into pieces yet. but it stood strong, and i beheld the shit-felt article about the mess that the author is going through. please follow: http://fleshasiadaily.com/2009/07/10/full-disclosure-the-shit-day-that-was-last-friday/ and read the post. be warned that it's not safe to go there if you are at work or there is a kid around.

so i followed Lazarte's story and other blogs. i was surprised to learn that he is an award winning writer. he won awards, yes, thus award winning. but i was disheartened because of what happened. such a brilliant mind to be spoiled. for you to judge, please follow http://skirmishes.blogspot.com/ and http://www.thespinaltap.com/.

so what's the point? my point is that it's sad to know that a brilliant person like Lazarte is in a mess instead of being among those who help us think. yes, he did make money by blogging adult oriented news and entertainment and gets sued, it's sad. i'm not sad for Lazarte though, i do not even know him personally. besides, he is "awesome" (the way he puts it) enough to face suits and to stand on that ground. i trust that his dick is even big enough to win. the fact is i am just sad.

for more info, i did a follow up and found out about this: http://jesterinexile.blogspot.com/2009/07/people-of-philippines-vs-larry-flynt.html. the article is long but trust me, it's worth your time. with all objectivity, i believe that the author of that blog is correct on putting criticisms to the NBI. unfortunately, a lot of people were not able to understand what the post is all about. it was so horrible, how those self-righteous, egotistical moralists point fingers and cuss so easily. it was just so unbearable! i have my comments on that article posted below in case you did not pay attention to those who reacted:

i do not see that jester stands on lazarte's side, based of course on the post and the facts. what i know, again based on the post and the facts (all around us), is that NBI is incompetent -- arresting someone without a strong case. and afraid to admit their mistake they try to turn this someone to a state witness just to save a face.

the post is not about morals, it is about the law and the facts. please read again, i doubt if you see a statement that clearly and concretely says jester is on lazarte's side.

it is sad to know that a lot of people no longer knows how to read. also, to those who are quick to throw criticisms to the author, please look into yourselves. have you not seen perversity? are you free of it? have you not seen those videos and ravaged it like hungry vultures?

grabeng hypocrisy. you people are so disgusting.

so what's the point again? the point is: it's just so sickening! the law, the enforcers, the hypocrites... people who are not capable to read, who cannot understand? also, it puts me in distress that freedom of expression was bruised, being used in such superficiality, both by bloggers and the commentators.

sorry for posting a long and painstaking post. it's not fun to read such murky things. if you want some fun please visit Ethereal Cereal (if you like music). or watch some slapstick comedy (if that is what you think is funny). thank you for keeping up.

what i just want to do today is to share something, for knowledge sake. i just can't stand another day of indifference. and for the anonymous commenter who might visit again and ask what new should i do, i say i will blog and sing and rock so that i can reach you.

until the next post.

"di na binoboto pero nananalo," ermat sings trapo

2009-07-10T00:55:00.015+08:00

we just saw manny villar's ad with boy abunda and it almost threw up my appetite. it just helped us realise more that deep within the person he advertises, villar is rotten. the ad caught my attention more when abunda (based on the script) asked villar how does he pray. i almost threw up! a politician advertises the traits that he does not have, says he does the things that he does not and promises he will do the things that he will not.

then mother and father exchanged comments. i went to the washroom and spat.

i despise abunda too, he can be bought. how cheap!

father led the conversation to town level. not much difference, only that villar has a lot more cash to buy moments in the prime time. he has to invest to gain profit, that's normal. i learned that the townsfolk are sick of those who take the seat. i also learned a lot of ways how the people take that matter lightly and how it became a laughing stock for them. i just hope they realise that those are the ones for whom they cast their votes.

mother did not want to spoil the dinner by taking such issues seriously. for dinner's sake! for the first time she sang a few lines from Trapo, a classic from Yano. it was nice to hear, her trying to be funny really helped. she had almost memorised the song, we played it that much at home indeed. :-)

"why don't they just die?" i said. i was trying to be funny too.

how sick is that humor that i have.

centrac

2009-07-08T04:51:00.005+08:00

ito na ang pinakamalagim na kaganapan sa aking buhay opisina.

centrac - isang programa na magsasalansa sa lahat ng aming gagawin, bibilang sa mga oras na aming gugugulin sa mga gawaing iyon at tatapos sa maliligayang araw ng aming sagad sa butong katamaran - ipinatupad na ito.

layunin nito na bantayan ang bawat minutong aming ginugugol sa pagtatrabaho sa pamamagitan ng pagtatala ng mga ito. para naman hindi malugi ang kumpanya, siyempre. pero dahil dito, tatlong minuto ang dapat mong iukol sa mga gawaing kayang tapusin sa loob ng isang minuto. isang malaking hasel. hindi mapakikinabangan ang isang tauhan gamit ang kanyang buong kapasidad.

pero bago ko tapusin ang post na ito, nagbago na ang isip ko. hindi ko na para ianalisa kung magiging mas efficient ba ang isang empleyado sa makabagong sistemang ito o mas makakatulong ba ito upang maging disiplinado akong tao. wala naman saysay ang mga bagay sa mundo ng korporasyon.

mas madali dito ang sumunod sa mga dikta ng boss. hindi ko na kailangan mag isip. pwede rin na gayahin ko na lang ang ginagawa ng karamihan. magbulag-bulagan, magbingi-bingihan at magpatay-patayan. walang kabuluhan ang lahat!

pero dapat mabuhay. pagkatapos naman ng trabaho, hindi na ako sakop ng centrac. pwede pa rin akong lumaya at mag isip at umawit at mabuhay.

stop CHA-CHA now!

2009-07-04T05:40:00.004+08:00

if you think this topic is not for you, please stop reading and go away.

i have tried as much not to post a topic so serious because what i get from it are a hot head and aching shoulders. never have i felt social responsibility so heavy. but time has made its call, it is about time for us to act.

if you do not know where to start, please link this http://img156.imageshack.us/img156/9691/17054719onevoicefullpag.jpg to any of your online account and do not miss it, please read. and then pass it along to your friends and to all the persons dear to you.

our tomorrow is at stake. let us give our children a brighter future.

magbaba ng sombrero para kay Jacko

2009-07-01T22:47:00.008+08:00

so sick was i last friday, i felt so detached from the world. then one news came that made me realize i was still in the world of the living, Michael Jackson had passed away. i'm a fan, what a sad news it was.

i grew up with his music. crack my head open and you'll get to find his songs as old files. i also used to imitate some of his signature moves when i was in elementary. :-) i sucked! that's why i moved to being the one who makes the music to dance to. like the old saying goes, "kaya nga ako nagrakista e, dahil di ako marunong sumayaw."

it was actually disheartening for me as a kid hearing him being called "Wacko," as much as learning the rumors about just how... wacko he was. i was a very young fan, i just could not understand.

but still, what his music did to the world is indisputable. to me, his songs are a bunch of wonderful experiences. how ironic it is that one whose childhood was taken away made another one's childhood more colorful. may he now rest in peace.

i remove my hat and hold it against my chest. me and my guitar, our salute we execute!

at last!

2009-06-22T20:03:00.008+08:00

but that is only the first. the band played last night at Checkpoint Bar, Better Living, (isinumpang) Parañaque City.

it was great, it was fun. we've finally seen the result of our hard work, it has been almost a year since we started writing. our first is Proboscis (i wonder how long it has been in julian's chest before we even heard its very first note), which was originally composed for an orchestral arrangement. julian got my nose bleeding trying to have it played in strings.

thanks to Happy House Production, Hot Box Entertainment and Checkpoint bar.

to my friends, you know who you are, a gazillion thanks to all of you.

to my mates, julian, craig, billy and allen, my loudest applause! you make me gay. hah!

to our girls, thank you for your unwavering support. and luuuuvv!

we'll always sing to you.

Ethereal Cereal

2009-06-18T00:04:00.003+08:00

i've been busy for the past months, perhaps it's about time to share what kept me out of sight. follow me here: http://youtube.com/watch?v=MGvv4yStdYU

that is what i love to do. :-)

boys tens wear

2009-06-11T21:38:00.006+08:00

lately i'm feeling that my pair of jeans is getting tighter. i could be gaining some weight. then i smiled, remembering the story that comes along with it.

with my sweety, i went to the department store to buy myself a new pair of jeans. we went straight to the jeans section for men and solicited the first sales lady to pass by. "do you have a size 29 for this one?" i asked.

the lady replied, "32 is our smallest, you should go to boys tens wear section," and then went away.

"boys tens wear?" we looked at each other, asking.

"where should it be?" i thought. "are those the jeans for boys at the age of ten?"

we went down on the escalator and saw a banner: "boys teen's wear." that must be it!

since then, i sharpened my hearing.

i should really add some weight. :-)

macapagal, nakapapagal.

2009-06-08T23:54:00.010+08:00

kailan lang, nadagdagan na naman ang mga tagahanga ng eraserheads sa katauhan ni maxene. malapit na siyang mag anim na taon at sadyang napakakulit. pero hindi pahuhuli ang ate niyang si pia (8 taon gulang).

paborito ni maxene ang huling el bimbo kaya lagi niya itong inaawit at madalas hinahaluan ng kalokohan. tulad nitong nakaraan, kinakanta niya ang mga linyang: "kamukha mo si bareck obama," (sa halip na, kamukha mo si paraluman). itinama siya ni pia, "hindi bareck obama, barack obama."

tinanong si pia ng kaniyang mga tita, "sino ba si barack obama?"

"presidente ng amerika!" sagot ni pia.

"e sino'ng presidente ng pilipinas?" tanong uli ng mga tita.

"e di si gloria macapal-arroyo!" (high pitched)

"sino?"

"gloria macapal-arroyo!" (pitched even higher)

totoong totoo, masakit sa tiyan ang mga batang ito.

walang tugma

2009-06-03T19:35:00.005+08:00

i was trying to come up with an idea to write the lyrics for our new music. however, i've been a slave for almost three years and i'm running out of creative juices. so i was facing a great problem.

i tried to look within my earlier writings and i found something interesting. a poem. i was really into it back in high school and college. purer times. fewer scandals. cheaper prices. sweeter scents. brighter days. faster journeys.

above it is, scanned from my notebook. jona gave it to me in high school, she said that i should have it filled with poems.

i'm proud to say i did.

hayden kho's penis should be cut and be fed to the dogs

2009-05-26T14:46:00.017+08:00

i thought i should care about the hayden kho saga no more than i care about the piss in the work place. until one day, every person in my way had just become scandal faced. quite bothersome, i gave a thought on posting about it. just what i thought.

i witnessed how the videos came out through this blog: http://fleshasiadaily.com. in a moment it seemed unbelievable but there they were, carelessly whisphering under vicky belo's unearthly nose. and so i said to myself, "this is the scandal of the century."

why? because we love gossips. we love eavesdropping. we love secrets. we knew that kho was committed to belo. yet, kho is screwing somebody who denied having any intimate relationship with him. we are curious about seeing other people being caught in the blunder of lies. we are curious about how other people do their partners, or their best friends' partner, or how their partners screw their best friends. we are tired of watching porn stars with fake boobs and fake orgasms. we like it real.

because we are real. scandals are real. we love it. real.

i just hope that our sisters, cousins, friends and those who are dearest to us have learned a great deal of wisdom from this. i hope that katrina, maricar and the brazilian did.

p.s. our drummer has returned. welcome back!

i need to take my vitamins

2009-05-05T06:39:00.006+08:00

i needed to drag myself out of bed this morning. my body has to rest; i went to bed late last night.

we jammed yesterday and it was good. no, better than the previous jams. now we are working on new things, if you have a bar you might as well expect us to be there.

music fills my soul.

i might fall asleep in my station today. that would be good. we can get the noise of the team into minimum so as not to upset our over sensitive and over reactive neighbors. piss to them!

work fills my pocket.

i have to do both.

Vigan be gone

2009-05-04T10:49:00.012+08:00

i'm posting to commiserate with my comrade whom i share a lot of common things with. among those is our love for travel and vacation.

before the summer ends, he and his sweety will be at Vigan city. i said "wow" on the day the he broke the news to me. after a week or so, it was canceled after some lame excuse was declared by one or two of their companions. it was "Vigan be gone."

i know some of those companions, i did not meet them but i will never forget them. they almost ruined our trip to Puerto Galera way back on November 2007. the lame excuse has something to do with Trillanes' lame mutiny ("mutangot" in Filipino wisecrack). we got to Puerto Galera. despite.

so back to Vigan, they reconsidered the trip. "Tuloy na," news came to me this morning. it sounds so universal and true, like the November breeze on your face in the last days of April (sarcasm). but even if the are yet to come to the last minute before the trip, Vigan has gone really far away. the companions have quit, and settled for some place nearer like Zambales, for some lame excuse the we should not care about.

"Vigan be gone," this time it really is.

and my comrade was pissed! and he avowed that he, when planning a vacation, will never, ever include those companions in the list again.

nobody wants to be with someone who has a double mind. when you want to go farther, you can't because you are dragged down. worse, you can't get anywhere.

so as an alternative, he and his sweety, yes only the two of them, will stride the slopes of Sagada.

and they will journey happily ever after.

piss. swine.

2009-04-28T13:38:00.004+08:00

i get pissed off frequently because in this workplace, there is this piss and all that it does is simply piss. but i don't want my days to be ruined by being pissed off.

so i dream of happy things, though awake under any pissing circumstances. I just wanted to be and feel positive. i dream of a band that plays good. and i dream of a person for whom i play. i dream of being in that band. i dream of being with that person.

it's good to have this blog, i can let the piss out. sooner i will introduce the band. and the person, and persons, for whom i will realize the dream. but not the one who causes the pissing because it does not deserve mentioning.

the shift is almost over so ciao!

and i'm starting to feel good again.

Jumaarr!

2009-04-14T13:30:00.002+08:00

that's how my mother calls me every time her head aches over me. in every time i mean often. perhaps it's about time to make her proud by doing something worth doing, by doing it well and giving her head a good time by making yours ache instead. how's that? sounds good?

honestly i just want to have some fun, write something, tell stories, review music, share opinions etc...

so let's brace ourselves for more to come. have a nice day!