i dreamt of evil again. and i woke, a few minutes past 2 a.m. i dreamt of demons and ghosts chasing me. why do i always have nightmares each time i have an exchange with him? i texted him last night, partly because i was bored and antsy, partly because i missed him. sort of. and he texted me christmas but i didn't text back. so i said sometimes i catch myself missing you. but then im reminded of all the pain you've caused me. i dunno if you've got a short memory, but i'll never forget. so im starting my new year by burying old bones. including you.

to which he replied, if that will help free you from your balls and chains. even though it pains me so.

i was irritated by his reponse because i felt him say it through his teeth. it felt suspiciously like a lie. so i said, you didn't have to say that. i don't believe it anyway. it was childish, spiteful. but i felt insulted. was it because i was expecting a different response? maybe i was disappointed. was i expecting him to say "i missed you too?" or something equally as syrupy?

he then responded, believe you what you want. whatever i say you wouldn't believe anyway. to which i texted back, because your word means nothing. ouch. i know. why couldn't i have been more diplomatic? because i'm still angry. sometimes seething. he hurt my pride. he hurt my ego after i risked everything to have him.

his last response wasthats your perspective and you're entitled to it. i didn't back after that. i hadn't spoken to him in such a long time and we ended up arguing. yet again. i am tired. i want to be free of him. my conscious mind says it. and my subconcious makes me see demons. when will i be free?

i am happy and sad to see 2003 go. this year has been a lesson in life's highs and lows. there was much i have learned about myself, about my relationships with people i love and abhor. this year has been the most eventful in my life. an awakening of sorts. this blog pretty much covered up my journey. a journey of death, life, love, heartbreak. i wonder what 2004 will bring. i am eternally hopeful.

maligayang pasko

"mababaon din sa limot," o di kaya "maghihilom rin sa katagalan." sa pandinig parang kay hirap gawin. parang kay hirap limutin ang sakit na idinulot ng kay tagal. ngunit ang hindi alam ng kung sino man ang nagbibigay ng ganitong payo, at nang kung sino man ang makarinig, napakadali. napakadaling ipa-isantabi ang mga hinanakit upang ipagpaliban ang kagalingan.

halos dalawang taon ang lumipas na hindi ko halos s'ya nakita o nakausap. simple lang, umalis ako sa bahay ng walang paalam. ang iniisip ko ng mga panahong iyon? ayaw ko nang umabot sa pagkakataong masagot ko s'ya nang pabalang. tama na ang isang beses na akala ko'y pagbubuhatan n'ya ako ng kamay. umalis na ako sa bahay na 'di na magpang-abot ang aming galit.

halos dalawang taon. noong una'y hindi n'ya alam kung saan man kami ng aking kapatid. sa katagalan malamang ay tinanong n'ya rin kay mama. ngunit di s'ya tumawag. di n'ya ako inusisa kung bakit. marahil, nainintindihan n'ya ang mga dahilan. marahil, ayaw n'ya nang marinig.

malinaw sa aking alaala ang huling pagkakataong s'ya'y aking nakita. nakaupo ako sa harap ng computer. madaliang tinatapos ang report ko para sa klase kinabukasan. di ko namalayang pumasok s'ya sa pinto ng sala. bago pa noon, marahil ilang buwan na rin ang nagdaan na di kami nagkita. nagulat ako. napatda. ganoon din s'ya. tila umagos ang panahon ngunit sa katunaya'y ilang segundo lamang ang lumaro sa pagitan namin. ilang segundo ng
katahimikan. napansin kong para s'yang tumanda ng ilang taon. at bakas sa kanyang mukha ang bawat isa sa mga ito. malumanay ang kanyang mata, na para bang may takot. bakit s'ya natakot sa akin? gayong ako ang may pakiramdam ng takot at hiya sa kanya.

napatigilan s'ya sa may pinto. para bang ayaw nang tumuloy nang makitang ako ay nasa sala. nakawala ako sa aking pagkagulat at naibulalas ang mahinang "hi pa." di ko nakayanang ngumiti man lang. tila nanigas ang bawat laman ng aking mukha. tahimik s'yang lumapit sa akin at tiningnan ang monitor. "tinatapos ko lang report ko para bukas." lumingon ako. nakatingin sya sa aking ginagawa. may kung anong dahilan at inihain ko ang aking mukha sa kanya, at may kung anong dahilan na naintindihan n'ya na nais kong humalik. tumungo ang aking tatay at dumampi ang labi ko sa kanyang pisngi. na hindi ko ginawa ng halos dalawang taon. nanikip ang aking didbib ngunit di ako naluha. madaliang tumalikod ako at nagkunwa'y may tiningnan sa monitor. lumayo s'ya at binuksan ang ref, kumuha ng tubig. "susunduin ko lang ang mama mo." ilang sandali pa ay dumating ang aking nanay, at saka sila na'y umalis. iyon na ang huling sandaling nakapiling ko ang aking tatay.

tatlong linggo ang lumipas mula ng gabing 'yon nang dahilan sa init ng ulo, at marahas na pagmamaneho ay sumalpok ang kanyang sasakyan sa may edsa-balintawak. halos dalawang taon. napakadaling makalimot ngunit paano kaya maghihilom?

sa ika-24 ay birthday n'ya sana. unang paskong wala s'ya. ilang buwan pa....mga una na wala na ang aking tatay. sa ngayon, maligayang kaarawan at maligayang pasko.

it is 2.46 am. i cannot spend one night without having my subconcious rise up and slap me in my sleep. all it takes is one dream to remind me of all the hurting, all the resentments, how deep the old hurts lie. the pain is so real it has made me want to get out of bed to write.

i am taking this as a sign. my suboncious' way of self-preservation. it must be something important, for my own self to stop me from heading down another pathway of self-destruction. all the warning bells are ringing. so loudly i cannot go back to sleep upon the abrupt way i have been wrenched out of slumber. waking with a start, my heart pounding in urgency. it is probably wise to take the hint from the nightmare.

it is telling me, there is no such thing as an innocent conversation. it is screaming at me, even though you miss him nothing has changed, it is telling me, even though he says he misses you it means absolutely nothing, it is imploring me to realize, i cannot possibly survive another heartbreak again.

park bench



like parc bagatelle, inside the bois de vincennes, this huge park on the left side of paris, the park we are at is virtually empty. there are no people in sight for hundreds of meters. the sun is shining, but its not too warm. and we are sitting on this wooden bench, under huge trees with lime green leaves. taking a rest from walking we sit down to prolong the day we are spending together. letting this stolen moment linger for a while, before you and i must part ways.

i lay my head on your shoulder and we are whispering to each other. theres some laughter in there too, but i dont know what we are laughing about. i want to be close with you, i say. you look at me and smile. i climb on your lap, my legs on either sides of your waist, and put my arms on your shoulders. am i heavy, i ask. you say no, your weight on me feels like a blessing. i laugh a little. how corny you get sometimes. but your face tells me the truth. we continue with our talk.

my long white skirt is hiked up to my thighs, and i am swinging my dangling legs. you have your hands under my skirt, on the side of my thighs, touching my skin, tracing small circles. i say, stop that it tickles. you stop moving your fingers. we stop talking for a while, i just put my arms around you and you pull me closer, your arms around my hips. the only thing we hear is the quiet sounds of the park, some birds, wind blowing through leaves. my head is buried in the front of your shirt, and i am savoring how you smell, taking in the moment, filing every little detail in my mind, from how warm it is where our bodies are touching to how your breath feels touching my nape when you exhale.

i raise my head and i look at your lips. how soft they look to me today. they are the same lips ive been seeing for a while. but today they seem more inviting, softer. less harsh. they part in a smile and i cannot help but kiss them. you yield to me and open your mouth. like always when we kiss, there is only your lips and tongue and mine. the ambient sounds drop away, and there is only you and me breathing.

your taste has marked me, i crave it, i say. you say nothing, only look at my forehead to kiss. your hands roam restless on my hips and thighs, hidden under my long flowing skirt. there is an urgency to them. a last gasp of air for the drowning. you clench your fingers and i feel pain. your nails will mark me i know. there will be reddish half moons when i look in the morning. but this moment i ignore the small discomfort and concentrate on feeling. i feel you pull me yet even closer. so close it is unbearable. yet so right. we fit you and i. this close to you and your warmth, smelling your skin, tasting your mouth i begin to weep. you look into my eyes and you say, what blessing.

i raise my head to the heavens and silently pray for succor. more time with you, more time. you bow your head to feel my pulse with your lips. your tongue caresses my skin like worship. why must you leave, i say. wider your mouth opens to bite. i am getting no answer from you i know. and with such pleasure you cause me i forget. when you put your mouth on me like that, everything else is eclipsed. and there is only you putting your marks on me. touching me places where no one else has dared. and i wonder, why must god be so cruel?

i feel like crying, when you run your fingers through my hair, and whisper to me, everything will be ok. i dont say anything, just hug you a little bit tighter, inhale deeper. i am memorizing how you smell, how your chest vibrates when you talk. if i could i want to melt right into you, and take you with me when i leave, i say. you look into my eyes and say again, everything will be ok. it is not a promise and i leave no room to hope. like my faith, something i have lost in a long time, loving you is dreaming.

love story



im putting my hair up, i took a shower bout an hour ago, and its still wet. ive been deciding the whole afternoon whether to go somewhere or not. i was wondering whether to go to church, after all its only about a 10 minute walk from the house. but im afraid ill get the same feeling i do when i enter a place of worship. a feeling of...a little bit of hollowness.

i wish i dreamt of him last night. but i didnt. if i did, then i dont remember it. but when i woke up, my usual morning ritual of thinking about him kept me in bed, my eyes closed but my mind awake. i wondered how his day went, i wondered what he thought about, the things he saw, the people he spoke with. i wondered if he ever rides the metro. i dont think i asked. because ive pictured us, together in the metro, in one of the train cars. going home from somewhere. im wearing a skirt, like i know ill want to wear for him, to show off my legs, lol. its short, maybe a little too short, but he doesnt mind. the train car is full, its the afternoon rush. and we squeeze in. obviously, there are no more seats, and we were content to stand facing each other squashed in between other people. we look at each other and talk, bout how our day went, how fun it was, although, my mind never quite got into details as to what the conversation was about.

the train is shaking, moving from left to right as the winding tunnels turn, our bodies sway with the movement too. someone bumped me from the back and i press closer to him. he looks at me and smiles, i smile too. it was warm in the train car, but it was warmer in the places where we pressed against each other. we're still talking, and im looking at his lips, fascinated by the way theyre moving. i probably tuned out of what he was saying, it was all probably just sweet talk, but im concentrated on how his lips are moving. i wanted to touch them, and touch them with my own lips. to see if they're as soft as they look like.

a lady on his left side stood up, and a seat was freed, he hurriedly sat on it and he pulled me to sit on his lap, sideways, since i am wearing a short narrow skirt. he puts his right hand on top of it, on my lap, to keep it from inching up. and his left he places on my back. i have my right arm around his shoulder, at the back of his neck, my left on top of his hand on my lap. we're still talking, oblivious of the people around us. theyre so quiet, and it seems our voices filled the car. but we didnt care.

im running my fingers to and fro, on the back of his hand. his hand seems so big compared to mine. big and dark and strong, and those fingers. his middle finger somewhat bent. lol. but i caress that too. he keeps his hand on my lap, telling me to sit still because im swinging my legs again. he said to stop it or my skirt will inch higher. i just smile. but i stop swinging.

i lay my head on his shoulder, i said i was tired, he said he knows. i asked him if i was too heavy maybe i was making his thighs numb. he laughed and said its ok, i like u sitting on me. lol. i laughed. our voices were more quiet, almost whispering, but it seemed loud in the car. why werent the people talking??

i move my head a little higher, so i can smell the skin on his neck. he doesnt put on cologne, but i love the smell of his soap. i inhale deep then exhale. he says to stop it, it tickles. lol. i laughed. i still inhale, but not so deep, so i wont tickle him. i move my head a little closer and touch his neck with my mouth, making talking motions with them but not making a sound. he asked what r u doing? i said, i just wanted to feel ur skin with my lips. u smile, but ur hand is moving up and down my back now. and u move ur head a little to the right to shield what im doing to u from view. but it seemed no one was paying attention anyway.

i flick out my tongue a little bit to taste...tastes a little salty. lol. but i lick some more. u laugh quietly, but u dont say anything this time. ur hands just move...slower on my back. and ur right hand on my lap is turned up to twine ur fingers with mine. and u breathe a little faster, more shallow. im thinking, am i turning him on? lol. my tongue is making little tiny circling motions on his neck. i wanted to bite right into it. so...i did. just a little nibble. i open my mouth wider and my teeth squeeze, not too much, because i dont want to hurt him. but enough so he'll feel it. hes not laughing anymore. my mouth is completely open, pressed against his neck, my teeth biting him, my tongue flicking out to taste. lol. am i driving him mad i wondered. but he couldnt do a thing, since we were in a public place, with a traincar-full of strangers.

lol, heres the train stop...seemed to take forever to get here. everyones rushing out the door, eager to go their own separate ways, eager to go home maybe. but he and i are in no hurry, we wait for the car to empty, we didnt have to wait long. i stand up, and he does too. we're smiling into each others eyes. i use the back of my hand to wipe at his neck. lol. i made such a mess on ur neck sweetie, i said. we step out of the car, but hes making me walk in front of him, his hands placed low on my hips. i wondered why. lol.

slap me awake. i am half in sleeping. the strange warmth of this november evening is making me uneasy in my skin. there is moisture in the air and it rests heavy on my body. i lay here looking up my ceiling thinking, what am i missing?

there is that pile of work on the bed beside me, it needs to be done but i cannot seem to summon the energy to open the books and begin. i know it will lay there until tomorrow, until i find the enthusiasm. i shift and lay on my left side. there is the television and i am looking at my reflection on the gray screen. i need a haircut, my locks are too long. so heavy when its wet, it is cumbersome. why am i wasting here?

i see me blinking at myself. i lift the corners of my lips and pout. then smile. then pout. then smile. i laugh at myself. but being silly cannot seem to dispel the sense of not...being well. i raise my right hand to touch my hair. it feels smooth to the touch and i am pleased. i smile again, but the fleeting second of pleasure doesn't quite reach my eyes. i see.

should i turn it on? and unthinkingly spend the evening flipping through channels again? like last night. like the previous nights before. i am bored out of my wits. and yet, lethargy has set in and has made camp in my body. it is not going away until i am jolted back into the exigencies of reality. work, school, work, school. i am swimming in monotony. will i ever succumb to drowning?

i am tanned from the weekend under the sun. i move my hand away from playing with my locks and slide it down my neck. moist. a thin film of sweat. my index finger makes its way downwards and feels my pulse. i am alive by all means. bored witless, adrift and lonely, but alive.

i had 32 students this semester. two got an F. i got an irate phonecall from a mother today. wondering, hoping i would change her grown-up son's grade. i was sitting here wondering, what the hell is this woman doing giving me a guilt-trip for quite possibly 'ruining her son's life'?!? she pleaded her son's case, saying he isn't such a bad boy, that he isn't the type to kill people. but what the hell does that have to do with me?

her son was fond of skipping class and not handing in his homework. he flunked all his exams, his finals and his final orals. what was this dude expecting? mana from me? she said he only needed one more point to reach the required qpi since he's already in probation, otherwise he would be kicked out. i said, your son is a grown man. he is going to have to learn to be accountable for his actions and take responsibility. she said something to rebuke what i said. im thinking, this dude is the way he is, all of 18 years, because his mother is doing her best to coddle him and keep him a child.

october 31, 7:30 pm

my first time in a cemetery this year. eternal gardens is crowded and dark. the minute we entered the gates it started pouring..and pouring. then when we were finally able to get a parking space reasonably near my father's grave the electricity went out. nice huh. it was like a bad omen. good thing we brought lots of candles with us. ate dinner in the car for crying out loud. miserable, cold and dark.

in 20 minutes, after the dinner were supposed to eat near the grave, out under the evening sky, the rain stopped. out everybody went. not a difficult time finding the grave. was next to this huge tree. it was cool, and the electricity came back. we were in good spirits.

i've always known all soul's day was like a fiesta. but i havent really been to the cemetery visiting a deceased member of the family. well it certainly felt like a party of sorts. the crematorium right smack in the middle served as a paging/sounds area. danceable music blaring...pages of people looking for people here and there. was....light. the dude on the speaker was funny. damn, the pages were funny "para kay ramon...umuwi ka na raw. nanganak na ang asawa mo" or "nawawalang black jacket na may wallet sa loob. pakibalik lang daw dito sa paging area. kahit na lisensya na lang, kunin nyo na ang pera." without the paging person's inflection...isnt half as funny.

so like i child, all i did was sit on the grass next to my father's grave. playing with the candles. made shapes with the wax. for almost 4 hours. walked around the cemetery a lil bit. looked at people. listened to music. smoked some kretek. i thought about my father, but no sadness there. i remember thinking, i suppose we'll have to do this every year from now on. not bad for a first.

fucked up dream last night. i swear my mind and soul must be doing battle with evil. or it just mirrors my crisis in my faith. i went to mass sunday morning. the first time in about a year. i went alone and i cant say it was one of my best ones ever. i suppose the healing feeling will come in due time. i cant expect it to return asap.

then this morning i dreamt of the devil. my brother was possessed and he was in this house. across from it was a church. me and some of my friends went in to look for a rosary. it was late at night, and i was relieved it was open. there were seminarians and a priest. we sat down on the pews and started praying the apostle's creed. then this absolutely terrifying, deep, inhuman voice joined in with us. then something started stroking my head and neck. then i woke up. it wasn't a dream. more like a nightmare ! :-/

i remember thinking, if there's a devil, then there must be a god right?

i know i haven't blogged in a while. i've been too busy cramming to finish my papers and study for finals. it's been hell to say the least. i'm up to four sticks of gudang a day. not to mention all the caffeine i've been drowning my system with lately. i am tired. i am TIRED as hell. i wish i had another me. i will blog again as soon as my brain starts working. no new updates. other than i am so fucking bored with my life for the moment. buried up to here *points at her throat* with work work work. haaay. somebody shoot me. i need a vacation. i need to go to the beach. and i need to stop smoking.

even more text messages from him today:

1. asking me where he can find chuck palahniuk books. detailed directions to bookstores, etc.

2. telling me what he cooked for dinner, and how to make it.

3. asking me if i know about this certain grad course at UP.

haaaaaaaaaaay. what the fuck is happening here?!?

there is a cricket in my car. it's been there since friday night. im not particularly annoyed by the continuous crickety sounds it makes...i just marvel at how its still alive! what is it eating under my hood?!? how can it stand the heat?!? im wondering if its...really a cricket...or something else :-/ i suppose it can survive since theres theres bits and pieces of food in there somewhere. crumbs, leftover stuff...who know's whats in there?? theres so much crap in my car its a wonder i can find anything.

i finally bought a notebook! courtesy of my mother of course. i feel so diyahe asking her for the money. but i intend to pay her back by shouldering more expenses. anyway, they'll deliver it tomorrow! i can't wait! :) im turning out to be a pseudo-techie-geek. hehehe...but i luuuuuuuuurve it.

this blog is a sanctuary. it helps to keep me sane. when i have no one to talk to, i write to release pent up emotions. so its not surprising im almost always angry when i write. thats what personal blogs are usually for. to write about one's deepest thoughts and emotions not usually expressed in real life.

i shouldn't have to explain myself. i shouldn't have to explain what this blog is for. some people seem to make judgements about me based on what they read. if u do make them, why not keep it to yourself? jesus. who do u think u are? this is my personal space. if u dont like what u read, then dont.

are women slaves to their hormones? i seem to be. my eyelids are swollen from crying the past two nights. and what do u know? my period came today. not that i've been crying for no apparent reason. but usually, im more able to control my emotions, and therefore lessen the pressure on my tear ducts.

i cried saturday night because i had to flesh out some building tensions with me and my brother. i have been telling him to cut back on energy consumption since june, ever since i started shouldering our utilities. its no secret how meralco (manila's electric provider cum consumer-robber) has been passing on to us clueless power consumers their own fucked up mismanagement and debts. anyway, friday night tensions between bro and me came to a head.

he was on the pc playing ragnarok and watching his anime vcd's from around 2pm til midnight. i left the house and he was on the pc. when i got back, he was still on. i asked him what time he and his gf would leave (he usually sleeps over at her place). i think months of me raggin on him to "magtipid ng kuryente" finally got to him. he left in a huff, leaving all the lights open downstairs. i didn't take it seriously. i confess, i often take my brother's drama for granted

saturday evening came the climax to this scenario. i spent the afternoon at my usual coffee house to work on my papers. my best friend was there with me to study for her cpa boards. we went back here to change and freshen up for a birthday party we were supposed to attend. my brother, as usual was on the pc. i didnt pay him any mind and quickly went upstairs. apparently, he was mouthing off to my friend and her boyfriend.

my brother took my 'nagging' in his usually oversensitive way. i admit, i feel saddled with a brother who is wasting away years playing network games and pretty much slacking off instead of building on his potentials and improving himself as a person. i have told him countless times i feel strongly about him not finishing college. he was enrolled in ust but he droppout out. he enrolled at st. joseph and dropped out. he has been in and out of different computer universities for the past 2 years. starting and stopping. wasting financial resources.

saturday night, after the birthday party, i confronted him. i asked him to speak first and tell me his hurts. true enough he said he felt i didn't respect him (he cited instances where he felt this was obvious). i told him how much i still believe in his potentials and how i defend him each time people say something disparaging about his character. i believe in my brother. if only he put his mind to what his does and stop drifting off and losing focus. i told him we aren't children anymore, and that we should take responsibility for our lives little by little. we are lucky in that we aren't forced out in the cruel world. that we still have the option of running to mommy. now that we only have one living parent, i told him how we should ease some of her burdens, us being one of them. the initiative wouldn't come from her. she would never ask us to start taking care of ourselves. she loves us that much. the initiative has to come from us, i said.

he said i could never do wrong in the eyes of everyone. i told him, i only try. and i do have insecurities, i have doubts about myself. i don't think im the paragon of virtues or whatever, far from it. i only implored him to try his best. if not for me or himself, then for our mom.

why i cried sunday night...i will write about tomorrow.

what's the punishment for gluttony? food poisoning. i ate so goddamn much wednesday at this buffet resto along west avenue. my bestfriend's mom treated us. nothing better than free food right? i knew those fucking mussels tasted weird. now i've been stuck in the house for two fucking days because i've been puking and pooping like hell. at least i'm not feeling as faint as yesterday. i swear, no more gluttonous eating for me. for a while :)

such a problematic relationship with teacher. it is complicated by the fact that he looks so much like my father. in so many ways, his personal attachment to his students cloud his actions, the things he says, the way he relates to us.

so he called me an airhead a few classes back. we were discussing military interventions, i wasn't particularly paying attention to his loooong and wiiiinding explications. my mind wandered off, and when he finished his monologue, i raised my hand to make a comment. which turned out to be somewhat like what he said, only i said it in one breath. obviously he was pissed. and called me that name in front of class, all of whom were mostly older than me.

i took it in stride i managed to stay composed. but i was hurt of course. and humiliated. he was acting like a complete jerk like only he can be. he made a few other side comments, equally as humiliating.

i didnt say much afterwards. i drove him back to his apartment as usual. the next class i didnt attend. that day i wasn't in any particular mood to take any more verbal attacks from him. last friday i did go to class. i was hesitant to open my mouth, but i did anyway. i made a comment before i talked about the issue at hand, about how ive been feeling intimidated by my other classmate's contributions.

i did it in part to give myself some sort of excuse in case he made another derogatory remark. something like, "let it be known that this is the airhead speaking. after i spoke he said he didn't know why i made that comment. i said, ive been finding the course difficult. he said, well its because you've been absent. i said, i've been having a hard time from the start.

we were bickering, right there in front of everyone. it was embarassing, but i didn't really mind. i said, id like to talk about it later. he mumbled something like he didn't want to talk about it.

during the break, i approached him to flesh things out. i dont know what happened, but i explained my side, crying. i told him i was hurt when he called me an airhead, and made other comments. he apologized, saying i should know he doesn't really think that, and that he didn't know those words escaped his mouth.

what could i do? he hugged me tight. i wanted to let go because our other classmates where probably 4 feet from us and heard the whole exchange. it looked like a lover's quarrel for crying out loud. and he kissed my forehead. god, i thought he would kiss me.

this is without doubt, a brilliant man. i would say he is the best professor i've ever worked with. but he is also a highly unpredictable, volatile man. that is why, im keeping my distance from him.

i just hope, people don't talk.

its another sunday. and its pretty bad. just abject loneliness. longing for someone. just anyone? or a particular someone? my knight in shining armor? fuck, i don't know. i just feel so miserable today. no amount of clove cigarettes will dispel the the feeling. i wanted to go spend some time with my mom, but she's gone to tagaytay to see a property. business. i suppose to help keep her busy. maybe she's lonely too.

ecstasies in addictions

wallow in the ecstasy of self-indulgence. savor the after taste in your mouth. hold on to the moment, savor each nuanced detail. commit the taste, the feel, the smell to memory. breathe it in deep and slowly, reluctantly exhale. let it go. let it out your mouth, in between your lips. open up.

delight in the freedom of losing control. be free. free yourself of guilt, restraint and self-repression. succumb to the temptations and embrace self-destruction with open arms.

the depths you're willing to sink reflect the mindless joy of the moment, feeding your addiction. loving your addiction. basking in your addiction. falling down the downward spiral, in ecstacy still, you wonder how far til the very bottom. will it hurt? will you bruise? will you break?

enjoy your trip down the path of no return. never let there be doubts or regrets. never has self-abuse and self-loathing been wrapped up in such a heady concoction. leave the hurting for later.

i've had my share of astoundlingly stupid things i did. and last night takes the cake. fred came over because i pushed him to. i just wanted to see him and talk. we did, for the first couple of hours. on my bed of course, wit the u.s. open in the background.

i told him i will not make out with him. but maybe i wasn't forceful enough. maybe, i didn't really mean it? because i so wanted to hug him/touch him. and it feels so good when we kiss. the things he does to me. i don't have a problem with that. my problem is his reaction right after. because the last time, he pulled away from me. emotionally.

so last night i was prepared. maybe i wont hear from him in a few days. i got profuse apologies and regrets from him on text. i didn't respond. because i didn't regret it. i love this person. i think. why else am i risking so much because of him? why else did i let him have his way last night? because i wanted to get him off. because it felt good. because i care for him. but do i have the strength to not break when things go really downhill?

he says he cares for me and loves me as a friend. he says we probably shouldnt be in a place alone anymore because he can't help himself. are men mindless slaves to their lust? i wish i knew the answers. i wish i knew how he really felt for me. am i sending mixed signals? because that is all i get from him.

the things that come to mind when driving...

of whores, pimps and tits

advertizing is the the whore of capitalism. no its the pimp of capitalism. nah, better yet, according to muffin, its the tits of capitalism. yes. advertizing makes whoring customers of us all.

glossy, shiny ads unfold their come-hither promise of fulfilling our every need. from the basest to the loftiest. from the cheapest to the most expensive. ads cater to our desires of spontaneous fulfillment. the urge to acquire and consume is brought to fever pitch. constant bombardment of images flood our senses. from dusk til dawn, every waking moment they call to us.

and like zombies, we answer. under hypnosis, every created want must be sated. nevermind the limits of our buying capacity, nevermind the inanity of the actual product being bought. nevermind the superficiality. bandwagons must be rode on. trends must be caught...much like disease.

image, stature and status must be upheld. the flashier the whore the better. the best pimps must exhaust all their creative juices to sell at the highest price possible. and we, customer-sheep, are powerless it seems to resist. after all, who can deny the urge to fuck and be fucked?

i meant to just get my book, 'global transformations' from him. i really did. i drove there, last night, to our meeting place, not a little bit angry. i was unsettled, a bit furious mostly because i felt rejected and hurt by fred. it wasn't an excuse to just see him. because if i really wanted to, he offered to give me the pasta he made a couple of weeks ago.

and so 9.30 sharp i was waiting in the car outside for him. he came, taller than i remembered last. he seemed to have gained weight, which is good rail thin as he is. i saw him, clutching my books and it was awkward. both of us standing looking at each other, not knowing what to do with ourselves. and then he reached into his pocket and brought out a small stuffed dog. "i want to give this to u for safekeeping," he said. my resolve melted, my anger blown away like ashes of clove cigs. water pooled in my eyes, and i can only stare at the brown and beige doggie, dumbfounded.

"do u want to sit down?" i said. we sat down, sitting perpendicular to each other. as usual, he was staring at my breasts. but i take no offense, since he does it every time we see each other. they're part his afterall, or so i said when things were uncomplicated and sweet.

we sat down and made small talk. i asked him what to call the dog. he said it looked like his dog haru who died a couple of years ago. more small talk, mostly i wasn't looking at him. but i was looking at his arms, his hands. i so wanted to reach out and touch him. the electricity, the want, the chemistry if you will, between us is palpable. still. i hadn't seen him in weeks, and what i truly wanted was mostly unarticulated even to me last night. but when i got home, i knew that i still wanted him.

it was only 15 minutes or so. he was sick and had to go home. i needed to be away from him before i took leave of my senses. he walked me to the car, i opened the door and he said, "can i get a hug?" my eyes watered again, i was looking at a point over his right shoulder, but i gave him his hug. half-baked, half-assed. i didn't want to touch him too long. it hurt.

when i got home, i cried. because i realized i missed him. it didn't matter how much he hurt me. like always, through text, he told me he loved me. friend. always with that qualification. he said he'll love me in his own obscure ways. i believe him. i texted back saying i wish i had the wisdom to see him trying and that i loved him too. and that i wish i had the wisdom to do it selflessly.

a practice in self-obsession. when we get into a romantic relationship, don't we fall in love with ourselves through the eyes of someone else? loving and appreciating ourselves through someone else.

isn't that just fucked up? but doesn't it have the ring of truth in there somewhere? we see ourselves through another person's perspective, our flaws are accepted and glossed over, our strong points admired and appreciated. and we preen, pose and are glad for it. isn't falling in love the ultimate act of vanity?

so are we destined to be drawn to the same kind of person over and over to correct past mistakes in failed relationships? so it would appear. i keep getting attracted to the same kind of man. dark-skinned, independent, self-contained, self-made and a bit antisocial. the relationship starts, like all new ones, giddy and exciting. it mounts into intense fireworks...then goes downhill from there. what am i doing wrong? and how many times do i have to go through this to learn my lesson?

god has a bone to pick with me. this year has been a lesson in humbling. and without question, i have been humbled. i think s/he's teaching me valuable lessons in giving and in patience. in forgiving also. question is, have i learned anything? wish the learning process weren't so painful.

my damned pride won't let me realize how puny i am as a human. how inconsequential, how irrelevant. my world of course, always revolves around me. but i like it that way. reaching out to other people only seems to cause pain. and an added distraction i can't really afford. but trying to unravel other people is addicting isn't it? and once the mystery is solved? it all seems to go downhill from there.

sometimes i wonder if my brain is even capable of attaining even the slightest bit of immateriality. but i am material, made of flesh and bones. the spiritual seems farfetched, and not quite of this world.

flashes

clips of images flash before me.
behind naked eyes,
blindly seeing
the naked lust in yours.

fused mouths flash before me.
the slightly sweet taste
reminds me.
the feel of your lips, your tongue, your teeth
covering my flushed body.

addled by lust, hot flashes
course straight between.
the imprint of you
fused in my head.
the feel of you in my mouth, embedded.

need flashes between.
wanting, craving you and hating
the empty bed, emptiness
of you leaving.

anatomy of emotional disengagment
dead inside you say. heartless you say. incapable of feeling you say. low emotional quotient you say. a classic emotionally retarded male.

a divorce occured in your psyche, in which the part of you that feels is switched off. whether voluntarily or not is debatable. the causes of such divorce might take some time to correctly identify and disentangle. and i am not in the position or frame of mind to do so for you. i have no rights. i have no obligations.

do you suffer the ill-effects of an unhappy childhood? have you learned to turn off that part of you that gets hurt each time you are rejected? is that it? or is it just because you're afraid? of what? of being hurt? we all get hurt. we all have our crosses to bear. we all bleed red.

don't you crave the feeling of closeness sometimes? don't you miss the feeling of belonging to something other than that world inhabited by one? is it worth it? are you happy living in your head? won't you venture out once in a while. being happy means taking risks. it means going out on a limb. it means reaching out and being reached in return. it means turning on those switches you've turned off.

why should you feel the highest of highs if you can't feel the lowest of lows? do you want a flatline? in the middle, seeing nothing. feeling nothing. open your mouth. say something.

10 Things I Hate About Funerals

10. funeral parlor agents -- your father is there lying dead in the morgue. even before you're fully coherent of what has happened, like buzzards...funeral parlor agents await you outside, waiting to pounce on you while your guard is down. if u do not have the presence of mind, u'd be robbed of 300,000 pesos on an impersonal funeral service. vultures living off of the dead.

9. mmda rescue team-- first off, they take forever to 'rescue' the victim from the mangled car. so long in fact, the victim doesn't make it to the hospital. second, the fuckers steal all the victim's valuables and money. only in the philippines.

8. bystanders/'witnesses' to nothing-- stupid morons couldn't even take down 3 letters and 3 numbers of a red car. too busy
ogling people inside smashed car. and contemplating how they'll be able to steal from the victims. at least they didn't take my mom's credit cards.

7. capitol medical center clerks in 'admissions'-- they hear you wailing your lungs out. you learn of your father's death. and what do they do?? they continue jabbering on on the phone like insenstive mongrels that they are.

6. money-grubbing relatives-- no decency whatsover. they suck you dry while you'r busy thinking about the specifics of the wake, the legal/paper work, how to feed people, your mother in the hospital. they blindside you....and take as much as they can while you're not thinking clearly. blood is so fucking thick it congeals.

5. maniac priest of sto. domingo church-- theres the dead lying there father, what the fuck are you doing manhandling me and one of my titas?

4. walang hiya former friends of my mom-- there for the spectacle, waiting to see a show. as in, my father's mistress showing up and making a scene in the wake. then they go and harass my mom when she's finally discharged from the hospital. they have the gall to show their faces, act contrite, and expect to be catered to by my mom who's obviously not in any condition to do so. fuckers. dipshits.

3. insensitive highschool classmates-- obviously tactless to ask 'o, ok ka na?' hello. my father just died. stupid. and then they
go on jabbering about beauty pageants and beauty contestants. and then jabber some more while a mass is going on. stupid fucks. who asked you to come anyway?

2. worrying about what to feed people, and how to 'entertain' them-- this has got to be the only country where people come
to wakes at all hours of day/night. dont they have specific veiwing hours in other countries? we have got to rest for crying out loud! and then they come and expect to be catered to like we're hosting a party or something. it is a wake. somebody died. DEAD. as in not coming back. do not expect to be fed red ribbon pastries along with your orange juice.

1. the man lying in the casket is my father.

my father died. car accident last monday. he and my mom were driving their fancy car. like a reckless kid, he lost control and slammed against this building along edsa. my mom broke her left arm. last week was hell for me. anyway here is the the euology i wrote:

Dear Papa,

Where you are, no pain endures, no troubles worry, no grief abides, no sorrow should linger. Where you are there should only be comfort and peace and love. Where you are, we, your loved ones gathered here, your friends, your family, remember you and celebrate your life, however brief it may be. Where you are, your pure heart reaches us still. Your kind intentions, kind words, kind eyes.

We are here together in solidarity. We are gathered here today, papa, to bid farewell to your earthly remains. Everyone has come to help usher you in, on a new chapter of your life. And in a new chapter of all of our lives. A chapter in which you shall continue to live on through all of us in our memories. A chapter in which you will be watching over all of us in God’s embrace.

People seem to be at a loss, coming up to me, Jon and Mama, thinking of consoling words to say, something they could do to ease the pain. But what does one say to a friend when a loved one has passed away? There are no words to describe our sorrow in your passing. Just like there are no words to take away the grief and make everything right again, back to how it was when you were here with all of us.

So we gather here today, and embrace the pain. Because the pain reminds us all how you were, alive. The pain reminds us how you will be much missed. How you have touched all our lives however briefly. And so we embrace the tight feeling in our chest for it will get us through the toughest times. I know, in my heart, that should the sorrow remain, so too does love for you Papa.

I know Papa would like to thank each and every one of you, for coming here today to see him, and share in the grief of his family. And so, I thank you. Mama thanks you. My brother Jon thanks you. And Papa thanks you.

isn't life ultimately about relationships? its about cultivating and tending to ur family, friends and those around you. they need care and constant attention or else they will wither away. we're social beings and ultimately we need other people to validate our existence. so us breathing, alive, taking space in this universe has some sort of meaning. and we're not just taking up space for making money, being famous and living disjointed lives. we need people. you and i. not just to make life more exciting and meaningful, but to learn from, to compare notes. just..to be. how come nobody taught me this? could it be i wasn't listening? why is it that life's best lessons have to be learned the hard way?

nice. this is great. not only is my tagboard down, but so is my commenting system. time to change...which i'll get around to doing as soon as possible.

this afternoon, sitting there contently sipping my vanilla latte and muddling through readings on developing countries, i was rudely reminded of dreams. my dreams from years back, eons ago it seems. lofty dreams that came to me in short episodes, urging me to continue on this path.

i'd almost forgotten. the ordinariness of every day, the daily drudgery, keeps visions short. dreams tend to linger in the horizon, just a bit out of reach....

i don't know how she got in, the lady with the small child in her arms. most likely at the side of the building. she came up to me and said "ate, pambili lang ng gamot." (ate=term used to call an older sister, some money to buy medicine). i am ashamed, because i didn't look at her too long. a mere glance took in her general appearance. she could have been 20 or 35. and the boy she carried was asleep. it was too painful to look at them. and the din of young people, like me, sitting and talking, the ambiant music, the expensive smell of caffeine, suddenly seemed too loud.

poverty is an abstraction, easy to ignore, until of course, it runs right smack to your face. i gave her 20 pesos, and i said "kung makita kayo nung guard pagagalitan kayo" (if the guard sees you you'll get into trouble). she said thank you, and went on to the next table. i looked down at my almost empty cup of coffee that cost me 110 pesos.

and so, i am reminded of my aspirations from years ago. lofty ideals of changing the world. how, where, when, i have no clue. have i aged so much that i've forgotten? have i been losing my ideals, my messianic dreams. have i been calling them delusions lately. is this the path to heaven?

im a heretic...why am i not surprised??

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Sixth Level of Hell - The City of Dis!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Moderate
Level 2 (Lustful)	High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Low
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Moderate
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	High
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very High
Level 7 (Violent)	High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Moderate
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	High

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

this blog is a cry for help. its the last resort before i drive myself insane. from everything, from feelings, from my personal dramas and turmoil. this blog is a release.

im afraid im an addict for emotional pain. why do i keep seeking it? why do i keep seeking out no-future relationships? is it because subconsciously i know it wont work out anyway, so in the end, im still safe? regardless of me beating myself up, regardless of the wasted time, regardless of the drama...is it worth it?

they say loving someone is the ultimate expression of loving yourself. its loving yourself through someone else's eyes. have i truly ever loved? have i loved unselfishly? because i feel im a selfish person. if i havent truly loved someone else...then i must've never truly loved me. why am i so unforgiving? do i feel i dont deserve to be happy? im sick of being alone. and im sick of running around afraid to have my heart broken. im sick of me breaking my heart first before someobody else does.

i'm 23 today. happy birthday to me....

with just a few words, a few minutes exchanged over the telephone, my father manages to hurt me, piss me off, and bring me down all in one fell swoop. my father is an asshole. he's insecure, he thinks so little of himself he feels everyone, even his very own child thinks even smaller of him. in this case, because he made it so, she does. what parent is never proud of his child's achievements? what parent manages to bring down his child's carefree outlook?

he is like an open wound, an incurable disease that won't go away, won't heal. how should i forgive? when he hasn't asked for forgiveness? when he continues to hurt not only myself, but my brother and mom as well?

what else is left when the love and respect is gone for your father? nothing.

went to mon's birthday last night.the initial awkwardness waiting for the celebrant to arrive at the 'surprise' party was worth the look on mon's face when he opened my gift for him. it was just a lil thing...but i remember he loved gardening (and their lawn looks nice now), so i got him a gardening book! well, i hope he makes use of it.

i dont think the attraction for my first big infatuation will ever go away. maybe, it will always be there. fell for him really hard waaay back when i was a freshie. this is a loong story, and i will talk about it in future blogs. suffice it to say he was at mon's party last night, i saw him..i'll see him coz he's a good friend of my best friend. because we were close friends once...and i dumped him because at the time..i thought..i couldn't bear the hurt of wanting him and not be wanted in return. duh....the melodrama of a 17 year-old. tsk tsk

Where is Raed ?

salam pax is back! i haven't been to this blog in a while. after salam's last entry back in march 24, i honestly didn't expect to hear from him again. this is definitely a nice surprise.

You are the Figher Femme


Which Ultimate Beautiful Woman are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

goddamit, its early sunday morning, nice and cool weather...i should be asleep in my comfy bed, but im up, tweaking my blog template. and i've been thinking of getting myself a digicam, an inexpensive one. if not, then a webcam might do. once i get my money on monday, i'll do some much needed shopping.

spent the evening with a couple of friends. let's call them lia and gene. we saw agent cody banks...i was thinking we should've seen tanging ina...but, since i was just saling-pusa, i really didn't have a choice on the matter. it was good seeing my best friend. we haven't seen each other in three weeks almost. she's been busy and so have i..but not for lack of trying. i've missed her.

man, i should be asleep. my bed awaits...
my fucking archives are missing yet again...

its been raining more or less nonstop for the past 4 days. the change from summer to rainy season has been abrupt to say the least, one day you're sweating like a pig, then you're knee-deep in flood water the next. the roads are literally melting...potholes everywhere. the quality of philippine asphalt leaves much to be desired.

i caught a student cheating today . he had a small piece of paper with a conjugation table on it. i feel, pretty betrayed as a teacher, as an educator. maybe a bit disappointed as well. have i done everything i could? have i taught the lessons to the best of my ability? well, i guess the answer to that is...most of my students are doing well. i made him a reviewer for crying out loud! this is what i get in return. and this is the same student whose excuse for being absent one time was coz his grandfather had stroke. yeah, very original.

when you're young and you do stupid things like cheat on an exam, it doesn't occur to you that mostly, you're cheating yourself. doesn't it reflect badly on your character? its not just a question of lying to yourself and to other people, but its a question of honesty and integrity. well, i'm filing a report to the assistant dean, then it's out of my hands. i only hope he learns something from this.

the website that can read your mind....lol, well try it and see if it works...

i am a hierophant.

i have been told, a few hours ago, that i am destined for greatness. i still don't know whether to believe the lady who read my future through tarot and my hand writing. i never expected to be 'read' my fortune. i didn't expect or seek it.

i woke up today doing my usual stuff, prepared to leave for class, went to class and did the last lesson (faire, acheter) and gave boinks her third long exam in advance. my mom had asked me yesterday if i could drive her today to go check on her...treasure seeking. we got back here in manila around 6. when i dropped mom off the office a lady and a young man were waiting for us. i didn't mind them, i thought they were one of my mom's friends (she has many). i was about to leave, i just got my cds from mom's car, but she called me back in the office.

i went in, and the lady asked me to write my name. and so the interesting hour and a half began. she got my personality mostly right. i would say 9 out the 10 things she said was correct. she said im an air sign which means i could deliver the news or be on the radio or even be an actress. she said i had fame in my future. my mom is fond of having her fortune told and a previous teller told her one of her children would be famous worldwide. back then, i assumed of course, that it would be me. :-) well...this is the second (or is it third?) psychic who has said so.

then she said people run to me for comfort and that i carry their load. fits my personality enough. thats why i fear weak people, because when they come to me and seek my help, i cant help but...grieve for them, feel their pain for them, cry for them.

then came the interesting part. she said i was destined for something she couldn't wrap her head around. something great. she said my table would be always full and i would always have people around. she bowed her head for a second then she said, i could be a politician or an ambassador. well, she hit my aspirations on the spot. i was amazed to say the least. i looked incredulously at my mom and asked her if she said anything to the teller about me. mom said no. again, i was so astounded i was laughing. she said i would do something to change the world (in not so many words), and that i would do it through diplomacy.

im not a believer of fortunes. i've always been skeptical of them. so most of the time i was just quiet, listening to her tell me who i am, how i am and what i will be. how could she have it the nail on the spot?

she told me all the things i aspire to be. a civil servant, not just of this country but hopefully, of the world as well. and the way i would be when i've reached my so-called aspirations, just, grounded, focused, strong, determined, principled. it sounded good to my ears, and the way she described me fit my personality so well. how could she have known?

has this been sent to me as affirmation? since for some time i have been looking for signs, am i on the right path? am i headed anywhere at all? is this...a marker sent from heaven to show me the way? to guide me?

the way the teller described me fit my messianic tendencies so well. to save the world. i've felt this for some time. ever since i started college. but so what? every other idealistic college student must feel this at least once in their college life right? the question in my head has always been...how??

im not closer to finding the anwers, nor do i seek them. she said, i will be guided, and my paths will be laid down for me. she said i was an old soul, i can buy that. she said, i was reborn/sent back to earth, to do something...a mission. it sounds so much better in tagalog. "meron kang ganapin."

and so...whats the lesson from this experience? i don't know. half of me is very much skeptical. especially when she said i could be an actress bit. and all she said were positive things, things i wanted to hear. do they have a rule not to say the bad stuff? maybe so. but the other half, the spiritual one, the intuitive one, is telling me this could be one of god's signs...one of...whatever higher power's markers..guiding light. showing me to continue on my path, to trudge on..and not to give up.

so, i am a hierophant. apparently, destined to sit on a 'throne' (which is interpreted to be a high postition..somewhere) but my feet would be firmly placed on the ground, and i will wear other people's shoes. once in a while i will leave my throne to mingle with the 'people.' to experience ordinary life, to be one with those 'below' me. i am to be a peacemaker as well.

oh, and i asked (secretly) if things between me and my father would ever be fixed. the cards' answer? i deserved it.

taken from learn tarot:

Except in rare cases, every human grows and develops within a culture. We learn by living with others. The Hierophant represents such official learning, especially in groups. A Hierophant is someone who interprets secret knowledge. On Card 5 we see a religious figure in a formal church setting. He is wearing the elaborate vestments of his office. His task is to bring the two initiates into the church so they can take up their appointed roles.

Besides churches, there are schools, clubs, teams, companies, and societies. The Hierophant represents all of these because his realm is structured groups with rules and assigned roles. Such environments emphasize belief systems - facts, rules, procedures, and ritual. Members are rewarded for following conventions. They develop a group identity. The Hierophant is one of three cards that focuses on the group. (The 3 of Cups and the 3 of Pentacles are the others.)

In readings, the Hierophant often represents learning with experts or knowledgeable teachers. This card also stands for institutions and their values. The Hierophant is a symbol of the need to conform to rules or fixed situations. His appearance in a reading can show that you are struggling with a force that is not innovative, free-spirited or individual. Groups can be enriching or stifling, depending on circumstances. Sometimes we need to follow a program or embrace tradition, other times, we need to trust ourselves.

ok, im going to start experimenting so...bear with me...

i only recently found out i can actually put images and photos on blogspot using other free image hosting sites!.....duh...ill get around to adding photos one of these days. nyehehehe.

i just spent the evening with my mom. i so miss her. but when we're together we don't really have much to talk about. i guess, as one gets older, s/he realizes how little s/he has in common with her parents. my mom and are entirely different from each other. she thinks im too serious. well, i grew up in a serious household. i've never viewed my mom as specially gay and happy. in my eyes she's always been intense and focused. but her friends seem to think she's fun. ah well...maybe its the age gap.

why is it that as people grow older they're stripped of all the idealism and trust they had as younger people? why does getting older mean losing trust in the innate goodness of people. if there is such a thing. why do i find it so much more difficult to make friends? because im instantly on guard for hidden intentions, because i believe, deep inside, that when someone speaks to me, they want something in return. something, that i might not be willing to give on my own terms? why is it, that at the back of my head, i feel, people are out to get something from me? and why am i so afraid?

hell, maybe because each time i give someone, and myself, a chance, i end up getting burned. does meeting a true friend mean having to go through..a hundred assholes? a hundred more screw-ups? why can't things be easier? why can't meeting new people be easier? why can't i be...easier? on other people, and myself. all these expectations.

a little bit of filipino humor.....

Refresh your Tagalog and have fun!??????? Enjoy!

ice buko - Is my hair ok?
calculator - Tawagan kita mamaya
protestant - Tindahan ng prutas
statue - Ikaw ba yan?
predicate - Pakawalan mo ang pusa
dedicated - pinatay ang pusa
aspect - Pantusok o pandurog ng yelo
deduct - Ang pato
defeat - Ang paa (ng pato?)
detail - Ang buntot (ng pato?)
deposit - Gripo (Call DIPLOMA if DEPOSIT is leaking)
city - Bago mag-utso; A number to follow 6
cattle - Doon nakatila ang Hali at Leyna
persuading - Unang Kasal
depress - Ang nagkasal sa PERSUADING
defense - Ginamit ng mga pangsulat sa kontrata sa PERSUADING
it depends - Kainin mo ang bakod
shampoo - Bago mag-labing-isa (11)
delusion - Maluwang (kapag maluwang ang damit, eh DELUSION)
delivery - Walang bayad. Kapag working lunch, eh DELIVERY na ang tanghalian
profit - Messenger of God
profit - patunayan mo
balance Sheet - What comes out after eating a balance diet
backlog - bacon?? chaka egg
beehive - magpakatino k a
cdrom - tingnan mo ang kwarto
debug - ang ipis
defrag - ang palaka
defense - ang bakod
defer - ang balahibo
deflate - ang plato
detest - ang eksamin
devalue - 'yon ang susunod sa letrang 'V'
devote - ang boto
dilemma - brownout, a!
effort - 'dun nagla-land ang efflane
forums - apat na kwarto
july - nagsinungaling ka ba?
the sis - ito ay sakit
contemplate - not enough pinggan
punctuation - pera para maka-enrol
tenacious - footwear for tennis
devastation - dun sasakay ng bus

because he's been deprived most of his life, because his parents were uncaring and ultimately abandoned him, because he has no real friends, no real loved ones, because he lives alone....does that entitle him to be...more selfish? than say....myself since i've been more fortunate.? does that excuse jack from acting like the world owes him? like i owe him? is he deserving of my attention? and ultimately, my pity?

should i cut him off when its obvious he's after everything i have to give? expecting that i be more generous (picking up the tab) and in non-superficial ways...he expects that i spend most of my time with him. he always expects that i give in to his needs and wants. god....now he's starting to remind me of my father, who is the most selfish bastard i know.

oh and to those people who bother to read my blog....it would be really nice to hear from you...click on shout out thank you.

i haven't felt like writing lately. but theres been a lot that happened in the past week. here's a short summary.

1. monday i met with jack. he made a pass at me after promising he only had the best of intentions..as friends.

2. after a couple of days...i forgave him.\

3. we're still talking.

ill talk about the details when i feel like writing.

some insane quotes from Mohammed Saeed al-Sahaf, Iraqi Minister of Information...

"Who are in control, they are not in control of anything - they don't even control themselves!"

"We are not afraid of the Americans. Allah has condemned them. They are stupid. They are stupid" (dramatic pause) "and they are condemned."

"I can say, and I am responsible for what I am saying, that they have
started to commit suicide under the walls of Baghdad. We
will encourage them to commit more suicides quickly."

We have destroyed 2 tanks, fighter planes, 2 helicopters and their shovels - We have driven them back."

"We will welcome them with bullets and shoes."

"We will kill them all........most of them."

"they are nowhere near the airport ..they are lost in the desert...they can not read a compass...they are retarded."

"We will slaughter them, Bush Jr. and his international gang of bastards!"

"It has been rumored that we have fired scud missiles into Kuwait. I am here now to tell you, we do not have any scud missiles and I don't know why they were fired into Kuwait."

"We have destroyed 50 tanks today. That 5-ohhh tanks" [while holding up his fingers]

(this one i thought was especially hilarious)
"When we were making the law, when we were writing the literature and the mathematics the grandfathers of Blair and little Bush were scratching around in caves"

"Even those who live on another planet, if there are such people, would have condemned this action before it started"

MWAHAHAHAHAHA....hehe

mwahahaha this is an insane website. 'we love the iraqi information minister....hek hek hek... funneeeeeeeee. :-)

if u wanna know a lit bit about me click on the link above.....i know i know..better late than never...

commenting system

well...i've added a commenting system to my blog....for greater interaction with the incredibly heavy traffic this weblog is getting. hehehe. well...just click on shout out and let me know whats on your mind. no need to fill in the email, aim, whatever stuff. just your name will do. merci! thank you.

my archives are back!!! thank god...well, i've actually gotten around to fixing it.

chicken pox for the soul. all my family has left to enjoy the beautiful island of panglao. and i am stuck here. i guess my wish has been granted by an incredibly trippy God because he gave me a legitimate reason to stay. i am covered in lesions and blisters (vesicles) most of them are on my head, some are still on the way of popping out.

the first ones, incidentally, came out on the first day of the holy week, monday. the worst itching came thursday...and now, saturday, well, it looks like im on the way to recovery. my face though...still looks like one only a mother could love. i only hope i don't get scars. and no, im not being overly vain.

for sure, this is one holy week i won't forget. but i just know it...i feel it in my bones...god has some more tricks up his sleeve. i'll talk about jack tomorrow.

i think i want to stay in the city. i dont want to leave, i dont want to spend any sort of time with my father, or my mom for that matter. i want to stay here in manila and enjoy probably half of the population gone. wouldn't that be nice? i just dont want to spend whatever sort of time pretending im having fun when i know i wont. i just cant say no to my mom, she always sounds hurt. might not look it, but she sounds it.

im so fucking horny i cant believe it. it must be the heat. and im tired of getting off by myself. my god...ill be 23 in a few months. and im still a fucking virgin. can somebody just up and shoot me? times like these you kinda lose perspective as to what's important and what's not. i don't wanna jerk off in my room all by fucking self. anymore! but im just not the kind of girl who would proposition just anyone. ive been half-joking with myself about propositiong rob, but i dont think he's that kind of guy either. plus, im attracted to him...but i dont think he's attracted to me. and he has his ex-gf issue. but hey, what the fuck its just sex right?

what to blog about today? well...my archives are missing. i haven't looked into getting them back yet. i should...once this freaking paper is over. hehe...theres some massive plagiarizing involved here....well...i did cite the resources! im just tired of thinking for the moment.

got no word form rob. well, the last was him sounding down and out about his ex-girlfriend. he seems really hung up about her. i kinda miss talking to him.

looks like we're really set for bohol. i'd rather stay in the city...since it will be deserted for 4 days or so for sure. manila with no traffic! imagine that.

sigh. i need to finish this freaking paper.

this song is me. right now.

I cry

One day I met a precious soul
Whose words had touched my heart
His poetry resounded so
It tore my soul apart
But when I tried my thoughts to speak
Emotion made my mind so weak
And time stood still for years and years
I bathed him in my tears

I cried, I tried
Tears of joy tears of pain
I cried, I cried
Tears of love again and again

Some people turn to pills and things
To help them throught the day
To take them up or down or just
To ease the blues away
But me I really want to feel
The ups and downs of life so real
Happy or sad emotions reign
My tears flow just the same

I cried, I tried
Tears of joy tears of pain
I cried, I cried
Tears of love again and again

I cried, I tried
Tears of joy tears of pain
I cried, I cried
Tears of love again and again

Gonna turn so completely I leave no trace
Though so many out there would laugh in my face
For wearing emotion so close to the skin
Condemn me they might if to love's such a sin

I cried, I tried
Tears of joy tears of pain
I cried, I cried
Tears of love again and again

I cried, I tried
Tears of joy tears of pain
I cried, I cried
Tears of love again and again


------- lamb, what sound album

heres another i just wrote real quick

lonely sunday

lonely sunday, lonely week
weakened spirit, weekend seek
inside yourself, a well of well-being
a need to dispel
lovers lost, lovers fleeting
lonely sunday, lonely morning
lonely evenings, weekend loss
to days of better waking
i wait fingers crossed.
lonely today, lonely tomorrow
sorrow, borrow me a smile
wake up thouroughly
alive
waking a week inspired.

some poems i wrote loong ago

a light from her window flickers
from behind her closed lids, she sees
different colors, brilliant, bright
keeping her from her sleep
off she takes her sheets
up she stands on her feet
eyes trained beyond the frame
whats disturbing her she seeks
two hands open them wide
in rushes the wind biting cold
streaks of hair, coal on fair
skin shivers, she quivers
lightning flashes unfold.
mysteries open flame
future enters in a gust of wind
standing firm, standing tall
waking now and see the fall.

fears and riches

so rich a treasure
king's ransom i hide
in the deepest recess
of my mind resides.
keep it jealously guarded
close to my heart
to never let go
with which to never part
feelings of weakness
sometimes abides
sometimes takes over
n jealously cries.
what to do with this hunger
with the need to possess
keep the bird in the cage
lest it fly to leave nest
what weakness comes over
that takes over the heart
where goes the strength
that bind even apart
sometimes time heals
in others it tests
will time weaken
or follow through with the quest?
a great big adventure
a great story to tell
of a treasure i seek
in whose thrall i am held

first night

dark on light laying bright
oceans on skies
filming starlight on blaze
shine upon them, amaze
bathe bodies in colors
throught this night

play the movie in my head
make the memories, embed
keep close fleeting time
to trap in the mind

light the dark with this glow
of afterwards forever
make it show the way
make the night to day
forge the bond together

from rings to bells
of music to the ears
match angels with dreamers
twine daylight and stars
create bridges that span
lifetimes

at this point...i don't know who or what is controlling my emotions. myself or that other person.

sunday lonely sunday. why are sundays the worst? why does it feel, especially today, as though i was the unloved, unwanted. by anyone, but also by myself. it hasn't been this bad in a long time. not ever. what popped into my head...i've been 'sheltered' these past two years. sheltered by being in love with one person, and being loved by him even though most of the time we were fighting and arguing. all that time, i was sheltered. from rejection, from the feeling of being unattractive and unwanted. for that, im greatful to jerome.

now, suddenly, im asking myself all these questions. am i attractive enough? more importantly, am i interesting enough? smart enough? why am i having this crisis? why now? now that im supposed to be older and therefore wiser? and then i ask myself, is there something wrong with me that i don't have a whole lot of friends? why am i asking now when i've always been content with the friends i can count on one hand.

today i almost felt like breaking out of my skin. i felt like doing something i've never done before...like fuck someone. damn. that i don't feel like myself lately is an understatement. maybe it was the high of last week, and the low of this one. maybe i'm on the downturn and can't quite recover. i'm suddenly so unsure of myself, so...discontent and restless and wanting. what is fucking wrong with me??????????

i've never humiliated myself for something i want. im not about to start now. although i'm very close to it. well...for my standards.

my one weakness has always been...i can never keep my thoughts so myself. really, i literally have to get them out of me or it will fester inside. it gets me in stupid situations more often than not. but here i am. sometimes i feel empowered by it because i think theres nothing more daring than complete honesty. but is there such a thing as being too honest? instead of being empowered, am i not leaving myself vulnerable too?

well it looks like we're going away on holy week...yeah, family getaway wohoo. with my asshole father of course. i tried getting out of it, but mom wouldn't hear any of it. if its any consolation, jane is coming along. so me, her and bro could just....go our separate ways when we get there.

ahhh...another family make-believe-lets-pretend-we-dont-hate-our-father's-guts.

only consolation? the bohol beach club looks nice.

yesterday was a disaster if i've ever seen one. he spoke too much, i spoke too little. my take on the situation was...he was doing his best to disprove me (or disabuse me) of my notion/stereotype that jocks are airheads. well he exceeded my expectations beyond imagination. we were talking....but not really talking. there was no connection like there was online...we spoke (well he spoke) mostly about politics, government, what its like in brazil. almost nothing personal. well, nothing personal at all!

and i haven't heard from him today. one good thing that came out of it...well, the one ok thing...was he kissed me on the cheek. he probably does that with everyone anyway...so i shouldn't think its anything special. and also...im not so starstruck anymore.

i entered 'salam pax' on google and clicked go...apparently theres a furor in the 'blogosphere' over his identity and what he's been writing so far. yeah...definitely gives us a different perspective from the news on tv where journalists seem reduced to recounting...this missile hit so and so building...injuring so and so many soldiers/civilians...

these are unsettling times. sitting here, with my main worry to finish my two papers for my e.u. and i.s. 270 classes, i still feel a bit distraught somehow. maybe its salam's weblog that's given me this strange...feeling. i've stopped watching the news every now and then. mostly i stick with bbc. their broadcasters seem more...neutral than cnn. plus they keep showing protesters from all over the world.

well, if you've checked out salam pax's weblog, you might want to click on paul boutin's weblog he seems convinced salam is for real.

found an interesting blog today. found it through the guardian. its supposedly a weblog of a 29 year-old iraqi still in baghdad. makes for interesting read.

click here to read a guardian article about 'salam.'

here is the weblog url.

glued to the tv set last night, images of a city bombarded kept me awake til about 3am here. it looked like carnage to me. baghdad looked completely defenseless, the unseen enemy attacking from miles away. how many civilians have been killed or injured i wonder? 20? 200? how long will it last?

what happens after the smoke has cleared? when the 5 american construction companies awarded the job to clean up have finished? will it really make for a better world? who's next? north korea? and after that? will it ever stop?

i have a new entry on my other neglected blog. click on 'armchair activism.'

also, for people who want to see figures about the upcoming war in iraq, click on this

much to be improved on this site. yeah, i've only started to learn a little bit about html, so people reading this blog must forgive me for...the shortcomings of this site. i intend to do something more with it when i have time. at the moment i have two papers to finish.

written on march 15, sitting at starbucks as usual. sitting here, alone with my thoughts which insist on wandering off instead of concentrating on what's in front of me, i find much dissatisfaction. with myself, as always. why can't i be happy? why do i always find something lacking, not quite right in my life? there are many things to be thankful for. but deep within, my thoughts ping-ponging in my head, there is much to be desired, much to be achieved, much left undone and i sit here, wishing i were more.

where shall i find self-satisfaction? if i keep seeking it within and yet always afraid to put thoughts into action, where shall i seek satisfaction? if i were to think less, let my other body parts work more, will i be more content? will i stop expecting so much from myself? will i stop being too self-critical? will i stop seeing myself as a failure so young? the luxury of a simpler mind. i feel almost trapped.

the luxury of wanting simpler things. the luxury of being 'shallow.' i do not like the road in which i travel. the path where i'm headed. someone, something, show me the way.

my brother just hurt me. he's never physically hurt me before..well, not since we were kids. but he's not a 8 year-old kid anymore. he's a grown 20 year-old man who just shoved me. if my back weren't hurting already, it probably wouldn't have hurt as much. but mentally, it hurt. that he would lay his hand on me in anger. it hurts even more because progressively, as each week, month passes by...i see more and more of my father in him. its totally fucked up, because the closest i've come to feeling hate for anyone is with my father.

what really really hurts is that i don't want my kid bro turn out like him. and i'm trying so hard to not see the similarities, but im already fucked up myself. even now, months since both my bro and i have seen our father, he's like this ghost hovering over us...coloring our relationship...fucking us up. still.

u know what i like? getting school work done at starbucks. luckily, theres something like...4 starbucks nearby. i was told manila is the the most "starbucks congested" city outside of any american one. i'll totally buy that. things i like about the place (not in any particular order):

1. the smell of coffee
2. the way the place looks
3. the coffee...grande nonfat caramel macchiatto please...
4. the baristas
5. the really comfy chair and table...just the right height for reading
6. the fact that you can spend 6 hours in there and nobody would kick you out
7. the whole second floor (of both tomas morato branches) are usually packed with people like me...studying..med students, people about to take one board/bar exam or another
8. the lighting...specially the new branch...glass walls...nice veranda..
9. when i cant concentrate, i can always amuse myself with people watching...and starbucks gets some pretty...'interesting' people. we get movie stars now and then too!!
10. i started the book rest trend...and now...i usually see one or two studying with a bookrest at three branches.

however i might love the place i have some pet peeves too:
1. the fact that it gets too cold sometimes...and the with the new branch you cant just go and adjust and aircon settings..they taped it up!
2. really snooty rich or pretending to be rich people.
3. the med students who insist..absolutely insist on speaking with their loud american accents (they're probably fil-americans here to get a relatively cheaper med education)
4. people who just talk too loud
5. when the place is too packed
6. when someone already has my favorite spot!
7. when the place is empty...boring...usually early in the mornings
8. they keep jacking up the price!...and is it me or does the coffee taste...well, not quite the way it tasted before.

if for every thought/idea worthy of writing and expressing myself i actually do put pen on paper and make tangible, in written words, my thoughts and ideas, i might've been able to produce volumes and volumes of essays. to write on almost every aspect of my life, from the personal, to the mundane, to the academic. it has always been a pursuit i find liberating in a sense. seeing the words on paper, recorded, somehow make my ideas more solid, worthy of reflection (mine). if only i could write fast enough to capture every nuance of thought.

writing is release in some ways, it also affords self-revelation of some sort, and validation from whoever the readers may be. validation in form of not just appreciation but agreement or disagreement with my ideas. i have no formal training on writing. but i have always found strength in self-expression. in this language and in the vernacular. although lately, well since high school, i have not had the opportunity to explore tagalog. i mean to, even though it will present considerable difficulty.

is writing egoistic? surely, in most aspects, it is. does it not mean, broadcasting your thoughts out there, imposing/declaring your views/beliefs to whoever might be interested enough to read? surely it is something close to exhibitionism? stripping yourself/your mind for all to see, digest?....

writing is ultimately self-validation. to count your ideas worthy of print, your thoughts sensible for publishing/for mass consumption or for consumption period. it is belief in one's ability to string words together in sequence that express meaningful ideas that communicate to readers. in my case, an attempt to look deeper within myself and find/achieve self-worth/self-awareness. that i am, in a way, extraordinary, that my thoughts, opinions, ideas mean something, are original.

is writing not an escape? escape from having to communicate with someone who could immediately respond?....

writing affords me to change my world in the smallest of ways possible. is that not the ambition of every writer? for creative/fiction writers, aside from entertaining, is there not a moral thrown in in the story somewhere? is there not an attempt to divulge some hidden lesson? to enlighten them to some truth?

is writing not preaching? who wants to be a preacher?....

armchair activism. i've added a new weblog because the other things i wanted to write about don't seem to fit with everything i've written so far, and free blogspot hosting only allows one page (and no graphics!). so, just click on the link to read!

buena vista club. one positive thing that came out of the puerto galera trip was that i discovered the buena vista social club!!!! there's no describing the beautiful cuban music...you gotta hear it to believe it! i'm playing it now, and i can't help but sway my body..hehehe. i've been hunting for the cd, but so far no dice..gotta content myself with a couple of songs from blubster.

feeling...soiled. strange that a couple of days from the ordeal, i would feel somewhat...dirty. i don't know why or how. it just felt like i was corrupted somehow. i suppose, its yet another veil of 'innocence' (call it what you will) taken off of my eyes. are human beings really so devious? so...not like me? :-) how i worry. i'm afraid i don't have enough defenses for all those mean people out there. who does? thats why, even now...i resent accusations thrown at me a few weeks back. i've been told i stereotype people. how could that be?? the minute i meet someone, i don't have preconceived notions about them. i certainly don't make assumptions about their character when i know absolutely nada about them.

solaris. strange movie. it seemed, almost pretentious in trying to....have some sort of philosophical moral about what it means to be, what life is. or some shit like that. matrix did a better job in that category, i think. can't wait for the sequel. hell, i should've bought another movie!!

a great many things one learns about oneself.i've always thought that something was inherently wrong with me, when dealing with other people. i've always been more self-critical than critical of others. what that means on the deeper level, im not sure. does it mean that im insecure? maybe so. in some aspects i still have a lot of self-doubt. like, i think i always sell myself short. i doubt my own abilities at...say, school work. or how others might view me even. until the events of the past weekend, i hadn't thought that...hey, others are much more screwed up, and how badly they treat me isn't necessarily a reflection of who i am.

the teacher. for this story to make sense, i first have to talk about the teacher. well, let's just call him that. i am seldom genuinely impressed by other people. but teacher has. he's easily the best professor i've met. he's generous as an educator and would really inspire a student to study more about the subject. for someone so smart, you can imagine my surprise when upon discovering that underneath the...veneer (?) of intelligence and uniqueness, theres a generous amount of shallow, petty-mindedness.

events in puerto galera. granted, i am quite sensitive. once i cry, and i havent in a long time, its quite difficult to stop. in the middle of the sobs and hiccups, mostly, when i am crying, im extremely upset at myself for what i see to be a major weakness of mine. but anyway, what i hate most is for people to make assumptions about me that are baseless. how can you assume a person to be like this or that without knowing anything about them?!? well, teacher has made such assumptions. he assumed, that since i seem to be the only one in his class who can actually make sense of what he teaches, and am not shy to actively participate, that i am a genius of some sort. faaaarr from it. i know im not stupid, but a genius i am not.

so, teacher thinks im a recluse nerd of some sort. he has in the past alluded to my being "laid back" for not having a job like the rest of them mortals. what i resented the most, was the implication that i was lazy, owing to the fact that my parents had money. now i dont know if that was really what he meant, or he was just being his sarcastic, british self. who knows? but, back to the story, i literally fought not to cry, after the attack that was made on my person. but i couldn't hold it. i never have. so, i excused myself from the table, and went to the washroom to cry. over and over in my head, the words "this was a mistake, you shouldn't have come" kept repeating over and over. it took a long time for me to compose myself, i stayed in there for 10-15 minutes i think.

i know my limits. if we hadn't been 4 hours away by boat and car from manila, i would've left by myself. but what teacher said to me wasn't what made me lose respect for him, this professor that i so admired. it was what he said and did afterward, and the rest of the trip. tell me, if you were considered someone a friend, would you talk behind her back? criticize her when she's not around? make disparaging remarks about her character? what kind of friend does that make you? well....teacher did those things behind his supposed friend's back. lets call her sappho.

maybe, teacher was jealous because sappho had her girlfriend with her, and theirs being a new relationship, they often went on their own, wanting some alone time. maybe, teacher isnt used to not being the center of attention. so, he and his other friend, lets call her christine kept harping on about the "issue" of sappho and her girlfriend wanting alone time together.

trust. i don't find it easy to make friends. maybe because i dont trust people easily. in a way, i took a risk going to this trip. because as i said, i didn't know these people well. but i was expecting....i dont know, that we had enough common ground to have something meaningful to talk about. i wasn't expecting deep, soul and mind searching conversation, but i wasn't expecting non-stimulating childish banter either. definitely no baby talk...but there was plenty of that. baby talk from a woman in her mid-twenties and a man past forty. the last time someone made parinig to me was when i was in gradeschool. parinig meaning...well, somebody saying something rude and hurtful about you within earshot. an indirect insult if you will. the last person i had expected to hear it from was a highly intelligent, 'free-spirited' university professor.

...this story is like whats happening to us...a strange girl with even stranger problems. in quite the most disdainful voice i now believe my first impression about him. no straight man could possibly deliver so much acid, so much...disdain (the only word i can think of right now that fully describes what he said) in a few words. which he repeated twice in case i hadn't heard.

i was sorely tempted to talk back. to respond, but i restrained myself. as it was, i was a newcomer in the group. if had said something, it would've ruined everyone else's fun. but after that event, i and everyone else, pretended nothing happened. but nothing teacher could ever do or say would regain the respect so few have managed to gain from me.

lessons learned?!? so, nobody is perfect. everyone has issues. including mature people you would otherwise think was above reproach. but yes, highly educated, extremely intelligent and gifted professors have their weaknesses. they can be rude and sarcastic and incredibly petty also. but who knew? i thought i'd met someone worthy of being admired, someone whose intellect shone equally bright as his generosity. but yes, appearances fool.