Friday, May 29, 2009

Eskapo

Escapism is a mental diversion by means of entertainment or recreation, as an "escape" from the perceived unpleasant aspects of daily stress. It can also be used as a term to define the actions people take to try to help relieve feelings of depression or general sadness. - Wikipedia

"There is a cheap literature that speaks to us of the need of escape. It is true that when we travel we are in search of distance. But distance is not to be found. It melts away. And escape has never led anywhere. The moment a man finds that he must play the races, go the Arctic, or make war in order to feel himself alive, that man has begin to spin the strands that bind him to other men and to the world. But what wretched strands! A civilization that is really strong fills man to the brim, though he never stir. What are we worth when motionless, is the question." - Antoine De Saint-Exupery

"Man staggers through life yapped at by his reason, pulled and shoved by his appetites, whispered to by fears, beckoned by hopes. Small wonder that what he craves most is self-forgetting." - Eric Hoffer

"Hell is of this world and there are men who are unhappy escapees from hell, escapees destined ETERNALLY to reenact their escape." - Antonin Artaud


To hell or high waters, there's no escape. Might as well listen to more music. *escaping*

Friday, May 22, 2009

Somewhere in the middle

Thank God for music. My life's boring without it. This specific song brings a smile on my face every time I hear it. In short, kilig (hahahah!). My friends, Jasmin and Flori, would know why.

Dishwalla. The frontman's voice is just amazingly manly.

A change of pace

I did some tweaking on this blog this evening and decided to put a list of labels for my posts. I realized I have a lot of angst going on. Actually, it's what fuels me into writing. But I have to change that and write something out of happiness. But damn, anger and words just get along so well in my world. But I'll still try. That spurt of joyful inspiration haven't dropped on me, yet. But I'm feeling positive. Or maybe I'm just too afraid to write about something that made me truly happy for a day, or a week because I know deep in my gut that Murphy's way will inevitably follow. Talk about positive thinking.

A friend or two mentioned this already to me that, whatever you feel or ask or wish for, you attract. The universe will eventually conspire to help you achieve whatever it is you desire, or something like that, like Coelho said. Somehow it happened to me last year. I wished so very hard for something, feeling hopeful even that that wish will be granted. And it actually did. But the process before that, it's just taxing. Putting all of your emotions into that one goal, visualizing yourself in the situation you wish to be in, praying to God that you're already there... it felt like it will go on forever. But in the end, it's definitely worth the long while.

I'll have to collect every ounce of strength I have then to be able to get what I want now and to internalize that I WILL get it. I need to have a semblance of positivity in my bones. Knowing the depressing situation of this world, why would I have to add up to its dreariness? God knows, it needs a little rainbow color. So I'll have to pull up my sleeves and put out my brush and paint, because I definitely have a long way to go.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Sharleen Spiteri

Better known as Texas. She's my all-time favorite music artist. But I do admit I don't own any of her albums (I think I should start collecting though), still, I love her music and her look. Very androgynous. She came up suddenly thanks to Flori's playlist, so I went and looked for her music video "In Demand." I remember that video so well because Alan Rickman's in it and the juxtaposition of their love affair is just so… unique, maybe. Bare. Altruistic. Basically, Rickman looked like a sugar daddy in the video. Then when I researched some more, Spiteri’s actually older than she looks. So when I came across the video below, now it’s actually kinda sweet :) And I adore Jean Reno.



But I have to give it to her, she knows (or the music video director/s know/s) how to choose a leading man for those two videos. Not hunks, but REAL MEN. Period. Classic, mature, and imposing. No tough abs, but it doesn’t matter. And they absolutely pass the Tunay na Lalake manifesto #5. But manifesto or not, they still pass my standards of real men. And it’s pretty high.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Oh, the abysmal future

PG13: Foul language ahead. You are warned.



Thinking about it, I could recall myself being silly and immature when I was in college, to some respect. I'd like to say I grew out of it on the latter part of my college life. But I couldn’t, for the life of me, see myself then as STUPID, SENSLESS, and FAGGOTLY to an absurd degree. ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

To hell with college students nowadays. They have it easy when it comes to their academics, and even life in general. Technology within their reach: internet, cell phones, MP3s, laptops, cars, and other small technological advantages to appease their boredom. But to what price? The depreciation of their common sense, lacking presence of mind, and heightened indolence.

To those three faggots riding in the same SM North jeep going to UP with me, a little note of clarity:

1. To Girl 1: I really didn’t catch (and I don’t fricking care) who’s doing the “stalker” part, but loudly saying “sa ganda kong ‘to?” amidst strangers is not helping any for the greater good, or even for the stalking part. You’re no Angelina Jolie. And honestly, I wouldn’t call you cute with that infested loud mouth of yours. I believe beauty should shine from inside-out, unfortunately, your ticket to beauty is snatched by that intolerable “maarte much” aura you’re stinking the air with.

2. To Girl 2 (and same goes to your posse): Watching a movie based on a book, it’s inevitable that both will be compared to one another. But whoever that are producing, directing and writing the movie has the discretion of interpreting that book into the big screen (unless you’re this premature author who gets a premature director into making her book a movie and creating much promotional hype only to show a premature vampirical fart). There are inevitable sacrifices (like Vittoria Vetra wearing a two-piece suit in the movie instead of shorts, as written in the book), but as long as the essence of the plot sticks, who cares if she’s not wearing shorts?! She’s showing a cleavage tease isn’t she?!? And for the love of God’s common sense, the car explosion was set up by the Camerlengo to kill the Assassin. The Assassin didn’t do anything to have the car exploded WHILE he’s inside it, and no that is not a bomb, that's the key for the key ignition to turn the car on!!! He was already richly paid for a job well done and ready to go to Hawaii for tequila. WHY WOULD ANYONE KILL HIMSELF AFTER GETTING PAID BIG BUCKS FOR KILLING A BUNCH OF OLD MEN WHEN HE CAN GO TO HAWAII AND GET TEQUILA!?!??!!?

3. To Faggot Boy 3: Nag-para na ako. Pababa na ko sa jeep. Nasa harap mo na ko. PUTANG INA, ITABI MO PAGMUMUKHA MO. Ayokong mabahiran ng katamaran at kabaklaan mo! I have nothing against gay people, in fact, I respect their existence. But your mere presence puts that federation to shame. When someone’s passing through, especially through a tight passageway (say, a jeep entrance), you fucking give way.

You know what, I’ll also take this opportunity to rant out a continuous concern of mine when walking the streets of the campus. This goes out to all college students out there walking down the sidewalks, hallways, and walkways. These narrow paths are made for people (PEOPLE, in general, not just students you selfish bastards), and sometimes, when you’re walking those paths, you can’t help but come across another person or group of persons from the opposite direction. Sidewalks, hallways, and walkways are like ordinary two-way streets. Only instead of cars, you’ll find people. Not just one-way paths, except when specified otherwise like what they do in malls, pedestrian lanes and waiting sheds because Filipinos, in general, are like chickens.

But you are all still so very young. You can still LEARN. Now have the FUCKING DECENCY to give way and stay on your side of the path so that that person coming from the opposite direction can still stay on the same path you’re walking on and won’t have to step down to the street (where there might be fast cars passing) or dirt/grassy ground (where there might be poop). And don’t dare tell me to fuck off because I’m paying part of your fucking tuition you ungrateful fucking piece of shit.

Just a note as well. In my book, “absent-minded faggot” goes under the category of “Pestilence”, together with “intolerably maarte” and “stupid.” Combination of these three is unavoidably listed down under “For Annihilation.” So please be very careful.

Where is this generation going to? Please tell me. Anybody? I need an answer to this mysterious anomaly going on. Is there a kind of unseen drug going around, eating away the neurons of these hopeless youths? And Rizal’s said, ang kabataan ang pag-asa ng bayan? Bull. Shit. All I see are chickens that need to be caged in pink barriers. Fucking senseless chickens!!!

This is just so stressful. I need a holodeck.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

End Notes

So the pieces of the puzzle have fallen into place. Looking at it now, the whole picture’s unsavory. Everything’s clearer, but the light’s just too bright for my liking. Amazingly so, the situation’s funny, and yet it’s definitely a lesson worth learning.

Never trust a one-sided coin, however straightforward it may seem. The other side speaks an entirely different story.

This pertains to my previous two posts. The former says my whole story, the latter is just for effect. A figment of my bored imagination. Anyway, so there it goes. There’s a triangle, you see, a shape that I don’t want to be included in, but I am. I WAS. I’m trying to extricate myself now by not being affected at all. After which, I will win the lottery and marry the man of my dreams (horse, shield and all) and we will live happily ever after on the moon. But is it just a triangle? The coin remains to be persistently stubborn. Maybe it’s a pyramid. Hell, who cares? Bottom line is I don’t want to be in it. So how do I get rid of it?

Dum-dum dum-dum, dum-dum dum-dum… dum dee-dum-dum, dum dum dum…
Time’s up. Answer? Time will tell. Sh*t.

This is what I get for trying to go against the grain, for taking the next step, for saying the first word… but I know, things like these don’t happen for no reason at all. And I know that despite good efforts but failed results, there’s always a light at the end of the dark, gloomy, depressing tunnel. It’s a lesson learned. No loss (maybe some change for the number of text messages sent), only gain. Emotional investment? Yes, but it’s like the change wasted on the sent messages. I can’t get them back, but something stronger would replace those that are lost. So, moving on…

I’m stupid stupid STOOPID.

Hah. Okay. Finally got that out. Now, TRULY moving on.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Re: A Letter to the Unaware

Dir Annoyed Urbanite,

Good day!

I apologize for any inconvenience. I didn’t mean to insult you in any way. I’m new here, I just want to make friends. Besides, aren’t you close with that guy, what’s his name? It looks like you and him are very close. And whenever he mentions your boyfriend and how you should practice doing what your doing with him, you never deny you have one.

I’m sorry if you are reading too much into this. But if your feelings won’t change, I understand. I still want to say, I have enjoyed your companionship.

Take care always,
The Unaware

A Letter to the Unaware

To whom it may concern:

First off, I just want to tell you that you are a mistake. Yes, a mistake. You're a fluke to my own specific standards. I never intend to insinuate any interest, but peer pressure pushed me into doing so because I’m gullible. And this flaw brought to me unnecessary attention to details that do not concern me. But I did so because you asked me to. Who am I to say no? It is not in my nature to brush off first-degree acquaintances because my own book of ethics calls for it.

But really, this is getting out of hand.

Second, I am not a news feed. Just because I know someone doesn’t imply that I am close to that person. Yes, we associate with the same circle of friends and we see each other often when I allow myself to interact with them. But our level of association ends there. I am not the type of person who forces herself to be friends with others, such a relationship is not a one-way street. And for your information, we have not reached such level wherein I have knowledge of that person’s personal opinions. Most especially, opinions about you. Therefore, DO NOT ASSUME that I have access to such things.

Third and last, how dare you use me. Just because I was being accommodating (which is a new change that I am trying to practice, and to you, of all people!) doesn’t make me a tool to be used for your own innocent whims. Maybe I’m exaggerating, or reading too much into your actions. But you knew that I was interested in you, yet you allowed me to be. And you somehow naively used that to your advantage to associate yourself more with another… through ME. My dear, you really should take lessons in figuring out the female psyche, at least the 5% of it if not more, because you are doomed if you are completely clueless.

Thou shall not unconsciously toy with a woman’s feelings, despite non-malicious intentions.

But I’ll forgive you. Probably it’s natural in your culture to do these things and girls in your territory would not take your actions into offense. But you’re in a different territory now, MY TERRITORY, so you better blend in and catch up. Or suffer my inevitable apathy.

I do wish you luck in your future endeavors. I sincerely hope your current predicament will solve itself without my assistance. You see, I have reached the limit of my “accommodating” nature. Therefore I leave you with this simple note… go find someone else to text.


Sincerely not yours,
An Annoyed Urbanite

Friday, May 8, 2009

Book worm

Shining like silver in the middle of a dreary late afternoon shower. Just realized that the first thought that comes to my mind whenever I alight from the jeep to our neighborhood is if the Booksale store’s open. It’s located at Breakpoint, as we always call it, just across Philpost office. Going into this little bookstore gives me an “I’m home” kind of feeling. Sometimes I’d just aimlessly browse around, not really intent on buying anything, reading each title and author, skimming my fingers on their worn covers. Other times I’d try and find a specific title or two, hunting down the shelves to see if I could find what I was looking for. Other times, I get lucky, mostly I had to come back. The store’s relatively new, actually. It got around when they decided to let the U.P. employees’ union use the empty one-floor structure as their headquarters, situated at a corner across the post office. When I was still working at Ortigas, I try as much as I can to hurry home to catch the store open, which is very seldom.

Old used books have their charm. Somehow, they’re more appealing to me than new ones. I probably find it more interesting because I get to chance on a book with a different kind of cover compared to those being sold in the big shot bookstores. Finding one is like finding a unique treasure. And who knows? The former owner would have his or her own history with the book as well, makes you wonder. Why did he buy it? What’s so interesting about it? What did he think about the book after reading it? How much was it when he bought it? Then I’ll wonder as well, why would anyone let go of this book, or that book? I wouldn’t want to sell off any of mine (well, except the romance novels that I could easily borrow from someone, hehe). Why would you let go of something that takes you to so many places? Yup, I’d rather keep them, in case I want to go back.

Books should have more value as time goes by. But, it’s relative. What if the leaves are already worn out? The cover beaten up, torn? The spine aged with creases? How about missing pages? But then again, who’d want to keep an old beaten up book when you could buy another copy, spanking new? Good luck, trees. But no, here comes PDF. Ahh, no more creases, only sore eyes.

I still want it the old fashioned way, hard-bound or soft-bound literally page-turning books. And in a way, I’m still helping Mother Nature by buying used ones. Less demand, less supply. I wonder if taxing books will help Mother Nature, too.

Where’s the world coming to? Bummer.

Links concerning the latest issues on book taxation (yippy):

The Great Book Blockade of 2009

Clarifying the Great Book Blockade of 2009

If you have other links concerning these, please don’t hesitate to share. Spread the knowledge people!

Monday, May 4, 2009

Hallmark moment




To all my friends and... yeah. Yun lang, to all my friends nga. XD

... Beach beach beach beach...


I don't think I'll get enough of it. Kulang nalang magpabaon na ko sa buhangin (pero hindi na, kasi masisira ang tan).

April is definitely my Summer month for this year. Despite the rainy season, I still got enough sun on my skin to burn a live chicken into a bucket with gravy on the side. But who's complaining? Definitely not my overbeaten pores and red nose.

I wonder what's in store for me this May though... Hopefully my Summer month will spill over this new month. Crossed fingers. For now, I'll just reminisce and stare at the blue up and beyond.