money matters

My friend commented on how beautiful a Lexus car is.
I shrugged my shoulders and closed my eyes...
I have better things to think and daydream about -- like ice cream and chocolates and this hunk on the billboard with its 6-pack abs glaringly and sinfully inviting me to think provoking thoughts that will ensure my disinheritance if ever my mom develop the ability to read minds..
My head buzzed from it all, so daydreaming was cut short.

I looked at my friend and I looked at him closely. He is still beaming about this Lexus car who passed us by. Was it white? I forget.

My thoughts flying on his earlier comment..and came to a conclusion...
"rich men can be so boring sometimes"...
Only then did I realize that I was thinking aloud...
He heard me.
He looked at me briefly and breathed heavily.
He stopped talking.
"Damage control" in red neon lights flashing in my brain.
Ugh... now I have to make amends or i get booted out of the car...and I hate walking as much as I hate public transpo.

I opened my mouth and then tried to smile sheepishly...you know, that guilty smile you produce that looks more like of a sneer than a friendly gesture? it didn't help. He is still upset.

What I meant when I thought and stupidly said the statement is that, sometimes, people with money take better care over something that never loves them back. That's why they crave more attention,they are more emotionally unstable...and the more they get the more they need to have some more. They are insatiable.

They talk more about gadgets and gizmos but doesn't even have a clue about how to go about their personal relationships.
They know more the serial numbers of their engines rather than their anniversary dates.
They bank more on the bills they have compared to their emotional investment in friendships. They have more patience to read manuals rather than hear their partner's thoughts.
They'd rather break a marriage over properties rather than honoring their vows of "till death do us part".

They confuse people to be dispensable when its their "toys" are.
And they complain that they feel empty despite everything.
Isnt it obvious?
what would you expect?
you've built a whole relationship over material things that can neither talk or walk on its own, and you expect reciprocation?
you gave your all to something who can never give you anything expect maintenance receipts!

They spend millions over cars. Put too much attention to its details...but forget how to treat their drivers correctly.
Cars cannot reciprocate love...but drivers can offer loyalty.
but no, some prefer the perfect roar of the engine to that.
They are so proud of their mansions...and treat their furniture better than their helpers, not remembering the fact that their helpers make their houses, keep their beds, prepare their meals. A kind word is more than enough of a gesture to make them feel appreciated.
And loved workers respect their masters.

In a relationship, there should be the element of give and take...
Steel will always remain steel and will not develop arms to embrace you when you are cold. Wooden floors will not shift to keep you company when you feel at a loss.
Cars will not drive you to the emergency if you are in dire need of medical help.

but then again, friends and lovers can turn against you...but the uncertainty of it all give life a rush...and dynamo...a type of high that keeps you on your toes because you don't know what to expect...it's worth living when all your senses are heightened to a certain ride, be it good or bad...as there is no right or wrong in living it anyway...there is just monotony and surprises... why live in peace when all the dead are peaceful? You don't want to live your life the way it would be when you hit the grave right? (ok im rambling)

I'm not against having little vanities...I myself am vain with phones...
But the person on the other line have more weight than the mobile gadget.
what makes MY really phone special? someone special calls me...

so when i said, rich men are boring...
i meant...they are so used to caressing inanimate objects,
they sometimes treat you as one.
They forget you have your own opinion and gets surprised when you voice them out.
They forget that you do not have buttons to push and that one has a memory that keeps count of their mistakes.
They forget that unlike cars, we do not live on batteries and only god knows our expiration dates.
They get so stiff, that a sudden change of plans throw them off balance.
They are so used to hearing their own voice
that it startles they to hear somebody in the crowd can talk.
They panic when life takes a dive,
thinking everything is breakable when the only fragile thing in the basket is their ego.
They get confused when schedule is not on time.
They start to hate surprises.
And they talk about inanimate objects
its existence is the main reason why the world is beautiful.

Makes you wonder why.
Maybe it's because of how they live their lives, they actually have none?

of course there are exceptions...
and this is but a bias opinion. Feel free to sue me.

silent ode to the invisible.

My lips are numb.
My fingers are too stiff.
My eyes are dry.
My mind too weak to find excuses.
My spirit too disillusioned to even dream.

So this is how one feels when one is at a loss.
When one sees reality all too plainly.
When one gets stabbed with the sharp truth.

Can I ask for immunity?
From the pain?
From the mounting hurt?
From the fear that chokes?

Can I borrow?
a shallow laugh to wipe the tears away.
a hallow hug to make the burden a little lighter?
a reckless moment where I can run so I can chase my floating dreams.
a crayon to color the moments of solitude.
a longer sleep to oblivion to wash the nagging truth.

Can I, just for once... pass through walls?
...through people?
...through time?
to wander aimlessly...
to touch the stars...
to burn with the sun...
to laugh with the waves...
to conquer dragons...
to name new lands...
to create new worlds...

humming silence wanders across the room and beyond. Along with it is my roaming mind, chasing the red diaries of the sane, prevailing beyond the hateful reality of not being able to vanish upon will. All the while preparing the sheets... tying them together, making sure it is roped correctly, tied tightly to the window, as I prepare to jump to the little escape the world is offering.

Outside, I see no one familiar.
Outside, I will not be suffocated with lies that once drove me to madness.
Outside, no walls to abide and no bricks to scamper from...no cup to pour my blood on...no boxes to store my heart...No smoke to make me cry.

Outside...where there is nothing to hold on to and everything is new. Where the strings no longer has its magic and the words pure and true.

long distance relationships

Long distance relationships is not challenging...it is a challenge.

It happens when crazed-and-intimately-attached- lovers decided to be in a binding relationship regardless of the existing endless water and mass of earth sitting like a plump fairy between them. But this plump fairy is not very accommodating with wishes, it is hard as a rock, deep as the abyss, and frigidly cold as that raw meat in the freezer.

It doensn't let you cross it for free. Arline tickets and cruise packages are extremely expensive that the word "filthy rich" and "robbery" comes to mind often.

It won't even let your voice pass without a fee.

It has numerous toll gates.Conflicting bodies of government.And landmines waiting for some fool to play with it.

Not to mention warring parties with deadly nuclear weapons that can destroy the earth 7 times. Duh. You can only destroy the earth once. Once it blow, everything disintegrates rendering the other 6 useless... hoookay? well if , and only if, by some miracle everything disintegrates and the 6 remained intact, nobody will be alive then to miraculously push the button of destruction once again.

The END-OF-THE-WORLD episode of our lives can only happen once, and its so absolute that nobody will be left to say "Bravo! Magnifico! that blow really blew me!". So let me tell it in advance to the genius, whoever he/she may be, wherever he/she may be located.

"congratulations for making sure everybody die an equal death, may we all rest in peace"

With all these lunatics between us, storms and climate changes, taxes and VATs, not to mention wild animals on the prowl, both four and two-legged...long distance relationships become a rock-climbing, off-road expedition of mixed emotions and frustrations that sends us crashing head on.

And so, lovers' break down because others just break away.

But does distance really have to do with it?

I've seen couples not torn by different timezones and geographical obstacles act as if they have a black hole existing between them. One can be so near yet so out of reach at the same time.

But blame it to the world becauase the world doesn't complain.

Never mind that our pride is more difficult to climb than its highest mountain.

Never mind that we become fickle minded, swaying more than the wind that courses through the trees.

Never mind that our anger is far more bitter than the storm that wrecks the fields.

Never mind that our eyes wander like a stranger sometimes.

Never mind that we sometimes take the slightest offense as a mock reason to create an impenetrable wall to those closest to us.

Never mind that we sometimes create our own world where no one is allowed to set foot upon.

Never mind that we sometimes wage an invisible battle where enemies are meant to lose no matter what.

Blame it to the world because it can only whistle its heartaches.

because its rain drowns its pains and tears.

because it survived the weathering changes of time, making it even stronger and beautiful as lovers continue to grow apart.

Yes, blame the world as our madness takes us to the edge of sanity as we collectively create and destroy cities in the name of pride and love.

But if you really want to test your capacity to endure a long distance relationship, be a priest.

Submit yourself to the "holy marriage" that requires absolute obedience and fidelity.

Where your partner is omnipotent that sneaking out to party at night and going home with a lame excuse of overtime will be just that, LAME.

And arguments are out of the question.

So jealous that being everywhere is not even enough that spies and assassins in the form of demons and angels are being sent and instructed to remind you of your sins with visions of hell to instill fear in your heart.

A partner that neither believes in telephones nor customer service.

A partner you cannot woe with chocolates and flowers.

A Partner that you cannot shout at (well, you can always try).

A Partner you cannot stand to lose.

Where communication will always be like an exercise of patience because it's like being on hold forever with intermittent flashes of light to daze you with constant subtle reminders and threats of hell sung in a melody of a song that is longer than "stairway to heaven" to keep you company while you wait for the operator to come.

It is not a long distance relationship -- it is an impossibility-made-possible relationship.

Where distance does not only exist, but another plane of reality stands in the middle of it all. This time the fairy is far more cruel in its collection of taxes. Where you pay with your everything including your sanity.

And unlike the plump fairy called THE WORLD, it will only allow you to point your finger towards yourself --blaming your imperfect existence is the only option.

Bummer if God doesn't really exist.

Double bummer if he does and you committed adultery.

murky waters

I find myself thinking about the brown muddy water one finds on a clay ground after a bashful of rain. I do not want to dwell on the reason why I suddenly felt the impulse of thinking such weird thoughts... as I am more pre-occupied of the feelings it creeps inside me whenever a picture of a puddle returns to mind.

No, I am not easily put off by dirt and nor do I squirm when I see mud. There have been times when the warmth of the wet earth between my toes soothed my aching feet and calmed my bruised soul as I faced an endless road with only my thoughts to keep me company. Where my companions are also busy keeping their shaky spirit sturdy as they wipe their brows with the back of their hand.

The thoughts of those long walk makes me smile and sigh at the same time. But the mud between my feet were alies... friend to the weary traveller... comforter of battered thighs and weathered bodies...

The golden color of the earth as it squish between my toes changes hues and everytime I try to look at my feet, I see more of the mud than of the flesh I am made of. But ashes to ashes, dust to dust -- or so the saying goes...aren't we all, in one form or another, as muddy and as dirty? just like the earth we step on?

When we take our last breath and our carcass thrown to the ground... after the last rite symbolizing our return to the womb of mother nature, don't we all crumble to become the same dust and mud we walk on? are we not every bit earthy as every bit of soil that makes up the earth we live in?

and so I tell myself, why feel uncomfortable of the thought of a muddy puddle?

I don't know.

It is one of those moments where we feel something we cannot explain. I bet you also had that experience of just feeling something strange,

like being happy without a reason,

feeling fear without knowing why,

feeling uncomfortable when there is no obvious reason to be so...

and you just do...

You don't ask why...

sometimes, you don't even stop to acknowledge the feeling...

happened so suddenly... so fast, that it throws you on a wheeling spree of emotions that only you could understand because YOU feel it.

But you understand and you don't understand at the same time. Coz you can't seem to find the right words to explain it... You cannot assign a language to verbalize it. And every attempt to verbally reconstruct that feeling you cannot explain always end in failure...you find it to be a feeble move...for to bottle something that is fusing profusely, knotting you almost is physical discomfort, even to the brink of pain...to bottle something that makes you wanna explode...is just an impossibility...

and so you end up frustrated. You feel alienated from the people you want to share it with. Misunderstood by the few who tried to reach out... Everyone feeling disappointed and useless.

And so when you feel that confusing mixture of feelings, that cartwheeling emotions that threatens to destroy your little comfortable bubble... you tend to keep quiet.

Lost in your own thoughts. Drowned in your silence. Overwhelmed by the experience... Regretting your inability to patch others in the moment. Disappointed how they cannot get to you.

You feel alone but not lonely.

You become tired but somewhat satisfied.

You become fearful, because the unknown always bring the fear in us.

Surprises, good or bad,and that uncertainty of feeling and not feeling, knowing and not knowing, living and not existing. Of being fearful and intrigued, of being bashed and battered and feeling satisfied despite of it all, always make our hearts jump.

Just as the muddy water and the thought of it splashing as a pair of feet steps on it makes me hold my breath, I find myself bathed in this crazy experience of finding and not finding -- not that I know what it is that I am not looking for in the first place.

A splash of mixed and construed emotions that makes me want to run for the fear of being mad. But for sure, I haven't lost my mind (or have i?)...although, it is a possibility that it was my mind who have lost me.

Incapable of understanding the moment I am in and the experience I find myself swimming in the middle of, could it be that it decided to leave me behind to wander off towards normal things it can grasp on?

Like me, my mind fears everything it cannot understand.

Everything it cannot accept just cannot be true... or so it insists.

Until proven...sanity must be grounded on a level whereby it can be defined, determined, dissected and discussed.

The swirl of emotions and the shock of understanding and not understanding, of feeling and not feeling, and merger of being there but not really existing...is...like groping in a deep puddle of muddy murky brown water.

You instantly fear, you suddenly think about things you normally wouldn't think about...after all, you do not know what vile things plagues the bottom and the bottom, you can only feel but not see.

You y try to guess knowing you cannot fully know.

You grope and you shiver with excitement of promised unspoken adventures as your mind opens a chest of treasures of endless possibilities while it dictates that the unknown almost always cannot be trusted.

The mind will step on it, just as the pair of feet will put its weight on the brown slimy soil... splashing the brown water sideways, parting the earthy paste...but no matter how many times the feet tries to part it, it seeps back to its place in the earth. Just as the mind might try to discern, dissect and understand, the confusion of having contradictory emotions will always find a way to throw the balance of our once stabel thoughts.

The mind, like the feet, may try to feel the warmth the murky muddy earthy confusion of the moment offers... but neither can stand eachother for so long.

No, the feet can only stand the mud for so long before it starts to itch, before it starts to look for the fresh refuge of water... And no, it doesnt matter that they are of the same composition. It doesnt matter that the feet that moves in the muddy puddle is made of the same earth the brown slimy mud is made of...

So no, the mind might feed from the mixture of emotions and experiences it receives, sharpening its understanding of how to go through the world...but just as the feet would shake the muddy existence of the brown earth off it, the mind will find a way to construct a sane explanation of things and feelings that it is confronted with...It will try to shake off the confusion and disturbing emotions unti it succeeds.

yes, until it shakes off that uncertainty of feeling and not feeling, knowing and not knowing, living and not existing. Of being fearful and intrigued, of being bashed and battered and feeling satisfied.

Don't ask me why.

It's just feels so.

It just seems right that way.

For it is also not right for mud to overly fester on the feet, nor do abstract emotions to forever distract the sanity of thought...

That's how things are.

It just is.

message from oblivion by no one

Have you ever felt the walls are closing in on you?

 and that the air has become thicker with the all their thoughts of you that you feel like throwing up? 

That's what I felt these past few weeks... 

I'm just tired. Plain tired of having to pay with my everything just becuase they've decided to hand everything to me in a silver platter...something I am grateful and ungrateful for... 

so when an opportunity to run presented itself, I ran..and ran away so fast I was dizzy for a moment. 

Now I'm in a strange place with few familiar faces to call on to...but I will let go of that too -- then I'll start anew.

where nobody knows me. 

nobody knows about who I am. 

Nobody knows what I can do. --where I am but a face in the crowd and a stranger on the street. Where nobody can disturb my peace amidst the noisy crowded places I've sulked myself in. Where I can sigh in peace and where nobody is breathing on my neck.

I have lived a full life, yes.  They have made sure of that...

but this time... regardless of the mud and muck, the darkness and uncertainty --I'm gonna live my life-- not becuase they said so -- but becuase I chose to.  

In my own space. Own time. Own pace.

Note to myself -- you have less than five days to linger in oblivion---come back before the 10th -- you have a scheduled shoot to do.

error terror

Hooookay - I labor for two days - wanting to finish just 5 pages of what I started. Almost there--feeling happya bout it...then, a moment of stupidity happened whereby I pushed the wrong button and i get this!!!!

AAARRRGGGHHHHHH!!! I know life is unfair -- but for once! --- can it just give me a break! drat!!!!!! 

boundaries

by felixspencer2 (taken from flickr)

the boundaries of having no boundaries is to know how far one can go about running the fields without going insane.

we are so set to put a barricade of contradictions in everything we do because we always expect things to stop sooner or later. But what if the stop to occur has no direct relation to the boundaries we set?

Thinking all the while that boundaries and limits help us regulate the stop we are expecting to occur, when in fact, it is the manifestation of fear to go out beyond what we do not understand.

Thus, the stop we are expecting is but an illusion and excuse to set ourselves in our comfort zone because we fear to go and explore that which we find strange...worse...things we cannot control.

One example would be the fact that we define ourselves.

Who am I.
What makes me ME?
and what makes me different?

So obssessed we are in defining ourselves and setting a different character to be identified from the commonalities of the human race.

I am myself. I am beyond what you think of me. I am more than what you see. I am more than a product of my relationships and decisions. I have a certain quality higher than that you percieve me to have.

Yet in my moment of confusion and anger, I see myself acting against the set of rules I have conveniently fenced around me.

That is definitely me.
But I see no one doing it aside from that shell that bore my face.

Is that me?
But it goes against the set of character I've learned to fence myself around with.

Can it be me? I would have known... I am myself. and on goes the debate...

We become trapped within the limits we set ouselves with... forgetting that we could easily lift it. That with one blow and it topples like cards...

so set me a boundary...
map me out and find me, like a rat, sniff my way out.

aut viam inveniam aut faciam

There are things that are opposite to eachother but are utterly inseparable...but the world has a unison of the differences that overlaps eachother.

In order not to get lost, we map ourselves certain lines of what is and what is not. But we often forget that the dichotomy of life, though real, is never hindering and it never will. Differences are just that, differences, they are not barricades, nor are they walls to alienate the world or the people around us.

And even with boulders positioned so that we may limit ourselves in terms of co existing and interacting, so we may preserve a certain sanctuary -- too sacred for others to insert themselves in...Trancendence is what we do best.

We draw the lines so we do not get lost as we live in this complicated world. But the lines are but imaginary. And the lines vary according to the map maker...

but the the lines can only do so much as bound those who've forgotten how boundless life can be.

so take me and ill show you how it is to be me.

see me now.

so what am i accountable for?
in this life of ruins where people are taught to wait for a tomorrow that never really comes.

what am i to fear? when I can only speak for myself and everything else becomes what i want it to be.

what am i to ask?
when I do not know what really makes me happy.

What is happiness anyway?

absurdly treading this part of my life where I've become a warrior of many things. But battles being fought for people you find special are very hard to do -- especially when they themselves are letting themselves get caught to be killed.

I tried so hard to design my life to please others while i secretly sneak out to glutton over things that i find enjoyable to kill my time.

But It's always the same.

Year after year.

Old Friends.
New Friends.
Young.
Old

Day after day, I still get impatient with the same old routine even with new faces to bear.
i find it a burden to hear people in ways where they find themselves unhappy of the state they are in.

But I cannot forever extend myself.

I cannot forever keep the basin of loneliness i feel because i do not find it in myself to walk away from the miseries of others.

I am in no way soft hearted.
I am not sentimental either.

However, I find it disturbing to see people getting stuck in that part of their lives and seeing that they don't even know it.
but it seems as if I am most apt to destroy characters, but then again, one can only destroy that which is brittle.
That's why when one locks to destroy, one focuses on nothing but the weaknesses.

so what am i to do?
I bang the wall, to find if it is sturdy enough.
It stands tall still...My wall is as strong as ever, but that never stopped me from banging a hole. Sooner of later, it will crumble...if that happens, what then?
will that make me realize?
what will that make me?

but what are they doing?
i am confused. i get lost just as i tangle within the sheets of my mind.
are they thinking what i'm thinking?
do they know that i am but a shell of confusing characters, trying to get hold what reality is all about...

excuse me...but do you know me?
because i've been looking for answers but until now, i cannot find one.

I become the people i am with.
that's why whenever i find myself alone, i find it hard to fit in.
i become the wall i am stuck with when no one is around.
mute.
hard.
cold.
forever an unwilling witness of other people's lives.
eternally immovable.
carefully listening.
vibrating with secrets.
basking in silence.
carefully waiting for the right moment...

Third World Driving Hints & Tips Part 1

I was reading "Holidays from hell" last night. The books is by PJ O'ROURKE and he is just witty and hilarious. Anyways, wanna share something from the book. This excerpt was written during the days when Marcos was finally overthrown and Cory Aquino came into power, and is in the process of 'rebuilding' our nation. Oddly enough, some things on this excerpt still holds true, while others are not -- please bear into mind that this is not only about the Phiippines he has written about but other third world countries, including ITALY (Italy, as he said, is technically part of hte Third World, but no one has told the Italians). If one looks closely, it's more than a scrutiny of our roads and driving -- but rather a closer look of our nation in road sign signals.

**pictures are not mine but are taken randomly from google search engine.

THIRD WORLD DRIVING HINTS & TIPS
Part one

Road Hazards
What would be a road hazard any place, in the Third World is probably the road. There are two techniques for coping with this. One is to drive very fast so your wheels "get on top" of the ruts and your car sails over the ditches and gullies. Predictably, this will result in disaster. The other technique is to drive very slow. This will also result in disaster. No matter how slowly you drive into a ten-foot hole, you're still going to get hurt. You'll find the locals themselves can't make up their minds. Either they drive at 2 mph -- which they do every time there is absolutely no way to get around them. Or else they drive at 100 mph-- which they docoming right at you when you finally get a chance to pass the guy going 2 mph.

Basic information
It's important to have your facts straight before you begin piloting a car around an underdeveloped country. For instance, which side of the road do they drive on? This is very easy. They drive on your side, That is, you can depend on it, any oncoming traffic will be on your side of the road. Also, how do you translate kilometers into miles? Most people don't know this, but one kilometer = ten miles, exactly. True a kilometer is 62% of a mile, but if somethign is one hundred kilometers away, read tat as on thousand miles because roads are 620% worse than anything you've eer seen. And when you see a 50-kph speed limit, you might as well figure that means 500 mph becuase nobody cares. The Third world does not have Broderick Crawford and the HIghway Patrol. Outside the cities, it doesn't have many police at all, Law enforcement is the hand sof the army. And soldiers, if feel like it, will shoot you no matter what speed you're going.

Traffic signs and signals
Most Developing nations use international traffic symbols. Americans may find themselves perplexed by road signs that look like boy scout merit badges and by such things as an iguana silhouette with a red diagonal bar across it. Don't wory, the natives don't know what they mean either. The natives do, however have an elaborate set of signals used to convey information to the traffic around them. For example, if you trying to pass someone and he blinks his left turn signal, it means go ahead, Either that or it means a large truck is coming around the bend, and you'll get killed if you try. You'll find that out in a moment.

Signaling is further complicated by festive decorations found on many vehicles. It can be hard to tell a hazard flasher from a string of christmas-tree lighst wrapped around the bumper, and brake lights can be easily confused witht he dozen red Jesus Statuettes and te ten stuffed animals with blinking eyes on the package shelf.

Dangerous Curve
Dangerous curves are marked, at least in Christian lands, by a wooden white cross positioned to make the curves even more dangerous. These crosses are memorials to people who;ve die in traffic accidents, and they give a rough statistical indication of how much trouble you're likely to have at that spot int he road. Thus, when you come through a curve in a full-power slide and are suddenly confronted with a veritable forest of crucifixes, you know you're dead.

Learning to drive like a native
It's important to understand that in the Third World most driving is done with the horn, or "Egyptian Brake Pedal", as it is known. There is a precise and complicated etiquette of horn use. Honk your horn only under the following circumstances:

1. When anything blocks the road.
2. When anything doesn't.
3. When anything might.
4. At red light.
5. At green light.
6. at all other times.

Roadblocks

One thing you can count in Third World countries is trouble. There's always some uprising, coup, or Marxist insurrection goin on, and this means military roadblocks. There are tw kind sof military roadblocks, the kind where you slow down sot hey can look you over, and the kind where you come to a full stop so they can steal your luggage. The important thing is that you must never stop at the slow-down kind of roadblock. If you stop, they'll think you're a terrorist about to attack them, and they'll shoot you. And you must alwyas stop at the full stop kind of roadblock. If you just slow down, they'll think you're a terrorist about to attck them, and they'll shoot you. How do you tell the difference etweent he two kind of roadblocks? Here's the fun part: YOU CAN'T!

(The terrorists, of course, have roadblocks of their own. They alwyas make you stop. Sometimes with land mines.)

Something from Thailand

pataya

Fast Facts about Thailand - (http://www.thailandlife.com/all-about-thailand/fast-facts-about-thailand.html)

all text in blue including the picture of food (other pics are from my friend) is from the website listed above. The author, Panrit "Gor" Daoruang, is the most famous internet "teenager" in thailand and is now currently in prison for reasons not clear to me. He is still writing and has published a book where all funds go to his daughter's trust fund for her education.

Preview

• A minor producer of opium, heroin, and marijuana; major illicit transit point for heroin en route to the international drug market from Burma and Laos; eradication efforts have reduced the area of cannabis cultivation and shifted some production to neighboring countries; opium poppy cultivation has been reduced by eradication efforts; also a drug money-laundering center; role in amphetamine production for regional consumption; increasing indigenous abuse of methamphetamines and heroin.Most expensive pet wedding

• Who: Phet and Ploy
  When: Sep-1996
  Where: Thailand
  What: $16,241 USD

  In September 1996, two rare “diamond-eyed” cats, Phet and Ploy, were married in matching pink outfits at a ceremony in Thailand's biggest discotheque. It cost Phet’s owner, Wichan Jaratarcha, 410,979 Thai Bhat ($16,241).

  The cost of the lavish wedding ceremony was topped up by a dowry of 587,127 Thai Bhat (US$23,202). It was attended by 500 guests, who gave the newlywed cats about 15,183,000 Thai Bhat (US$60,000) in cash and wedding presents. Wearing pink satin, the bride, Ploy, owned by a friend of Phet's owner, arrived in a Rolls Royce, while Phet himself came by helicopter. A parrot was best man, an iguana was maid of honor, and Ploy even received a kitty wedding ring. Although now married, the cats live apart, each with their respective owners. Both cats have a rare optical defect known as diamond eye, a type of glaucoma, which in Thailand is believed to be a symbol of good luck.

• Thai people are used to eating rice with their meal. Most Thai people can't have sandwiches for their meal. They call sandwiches a snack. Also, most Thai people do not sit down to eat a proper meal because they usually eat when they are hungry, especially kids and teenagers. If you know some Thai person, you might hear them say "gin khao yung" every time you meet them. It means "have you eaten yet?" or more precise "have you eaten rice yet?". If you come to Thailand and stay with a Thai family then be careful you don't put on too much weight! All of the visitors that have come to stay at our school always go home weighing more!

Where are you?!

A friend of mine went to Thailand to look for stuff and to just waste time and money ( i don't know about the second one, it's an opinion...heheheh!) He went to pataya and the river kwai...had elephant treks and stubbed his toe on one waterfall trip (what klutz)... and I was able to cajole him to share some photos. Something that he is not enthusiastic about coz he is a bit of a prude. He snapped at some scenes and he's managed to give it to me without a fuss....sheesh...unfortunately,he sent them without a caption...oh well, if these places and faces are familiar...post them and name them, please. As I havent been to Thailand and doesn't know an inkling as to what they are... ^.^

His name is jacob but I fondly call him yakov. His name in his native tongue. He is a jew and I've met him because I said something about Hitler and that pissed him off. He scolded me for days about it... I guess everytime he remembers that he grits his teeth and just wants to strangle me...but I've worked my way around any future strangulations from him by sweetly convincing him that i'm his favorite and that he needs to adopt me as I need someone to finance my chocolate and ice cream addiction (he owns an ice cream parlor) -- plus I need someone to knock me off or smack my ass back to reality that life isn't all that sweet. We sometimes hate eachother's guts because we just do. He is indifferent to almost everything and he loves to point out that I am lost. grrrr.... He is adamant on world domination. He is an alien. He is adorable, but he bites. Dangerous to have as a pet...I suggest to sedate him first before anything else ^.^

freeze my life

photo by sierra satana from deviantart.com
http://sierra-satana.deviantart.com/art/To-Escape-71947004

the remote control pls.

when life is so fast and people are constantly going in and out of your life, don't you wish the remote control is at hand for you to push the pause button.

For others, that remote control is the cigarette break they have. For some, it's that thoughtless joyride to nowhere. For the few, it's that ten-minute silence they strive so hard to accomplish. For most of us, the remote cannot seem to be found.

and so our lives, goes on and on and we watch it helplessly go by. All the while thinking, "if only that remote can be found" so that we can switch channel if we are going through an episode we don't wanna watch, if it is a moment we don't wanna be in...We watch our relationship do good or go bad, we watch ourselves grow old and our faces get oily. we watch at our happy hours with fondness and we cringe everytime a horrible mistake was made. Life is fun -- until we wish for the remote for many reasons...to prolong that excitement we are feeling, to fast forward when we are hurting, to freeze the sunset, to rewind the courtship, to stop it all when we can't breathe anymore, to change channel when we are hating ourselves, to click...just because and for no particular reason...

if you happen to stumble upon the remote, which by the way is invisible in color, weightless, whose functions offers a myriad of possibilities including the impossible...then maybe...just maybe...that's the remote we have been looking for. If so -- pls be kind enough to knock at my door...and give me enough time to smile before you push the freeze button.

Feeling something wrong about something?

Do you ever have that feeling that something that shouldn't be happening is happening?
like your favorite dress getting ripped for no particular reason?
like your husband cheating on you?
like your bestfriend talking behind your back?
like that chocolate bar being stolen from your fridge?

That feeling that something, somewhere -- is just not right.

The thing with women's intuition, is that it's usually correct, especially when it's about your partner cheating on you. Am I not right ladies? we always have a sense that something is not right, regardless of the fact if he says he loves you everyday, every hour, every minute. Regardless if he kisses you everytime you come home...unexpectedly, you do't feel happy...jsut because...something's changed...all we have to do is wait to see that something...and usually, it's a girl, in mini skirt, high heels, and a make up that's more perfect than yours.

So what do we do? we often make them blurt it out, only to get screamed at, accused of, and just be told to that we are paranoid...how hurtful can that be. Don't they know that we can feel too? that we can sense difference if we are being "loved" differently these past few months?

So you don't love us anymore...why just not leave and save everybody the time and effort and humiliation. Leave and leave softly and gracefully. Just vanish without a trace after saying sorry that you floundered on your "till death do us part" vow.

So what I'm trying to drive at? your cold heart, i guess.

after the curtain closes

you cannot believe the flashing lights. And so many people are waiting to take your pictures. Roses are being thrown at your feet with the crowd cheering your name. They want more, they crave for more than what's being offered. They clap their hands in a rythm, seducing you to again give the performance of your life...but when the bulbs die down. after the people have become tired of the noise and the laughter. after the stage has been cleaned...you go back to your own little self - euphoric for a moment - but definitely deafened by the silence. You ask for sleep but your mind gives you no rest. You clamor for the bed, but its empitness gnaws at your soul. Your tandem has left...and your not on the stage anymore.

The phone rings. You pick it up. And somehow, that call transcends the distance...but its not enough. Never enough. And like the crowd that cheers...you hum the name you long for. you sing the melody of missing the company. you dance in loneliness...making yourself sick by sending blank stares at the blank walls. You are not Sad. But you are not overjoyed. You are suspended...until the phone rings again.

suicide at 12

Her name was unknown, but she got famous -- the kind of fame where you become the household talk, where everyone knows of you, the type the celebrities crave for. But she became famous not because of her talent, nor is it because of beauty, she instantly became a star when she decided to loop her neck a cord and died -- and she was only 12 years old.

She decided to take her own life because they were poor and her parents are always fighting . Before she died, she came up to her mother to ask her to let her work in the factory her mom is working for but her mom scolded her and she proceeded to go home -- hurt, sad, and possibly confused. When she died, they found her diary and inside it, they were able to read a part of her tormented soul. One entry said, that it's been a month already since she last attended school because they don't have enough money for food and transportation. Another entry was about her feelings towards her parents when they fight...She wrote she wanted to be a nurse. She wants to be the one to bring her family out of poverty.

How can one so young, feel so old?
How can one so young, at the tender age of 12, feel so depressed?
Where can one so young get enough courage to take her own life?

I am mother, and this type of news really makes me uncomfortable. When I saw the news, I immediately remembered my eldest daughter. Ever since her father and I called it quits, I've noticed a certain maturity in her. I would catch her looking at our wedding pictures and she would look so sad. She's still the vibrant little girl she was but she's started to have outbursts, she's more stubborn, and there are moments where she is just quiet. I've always brushed this aside, hoping that one day, I could explain to her why. She is just a kid...and then I heard the news. I missed her suddenly.

So how young is she really is? Maybe parents today often make the mistake of treating their children to be young than they really are. Children these days tend to grow faster, they tend to mature quickly...and thus, inspite of the fact that they may look like little angels to us, could it be that a more mature consciousness is behind their childish looks and ways? of course...we parents are just too stubborn to accept that.

Being able to understand and acting it out of understanding are two different things...Just because you understand, doesn't necessarily mean that one is rational in answering such understanding. What I'm trying to get at is that, they may understand, but they may not know how to deal with it. Thus, with the case of the twelve year old girl, she answered it by taking her own life, because she understood how hard their life is, how poor they are, how mean circumstances are...that and more she knew...but that alone didn't drive her to suicide.The fact that she knows the cruelty of living, and not knowing how to deal with it, is the real culprit. So many things have shown her that life is hard, unfair, and cruel...but nobody was there to convince her that life can also be beautiful and that it should be cherished. She didn't knew the value of living, no one taught her. And as a parent, no matter how busy we are, no matter how depressed we are, that is one lesson we should try to teach no matter what. We mold them not only with what we say to them but the life we live. And thus, to effectively teach them the good life is to show them. I'm not saying put a lot of food on the table even though you can't afford it. I'm not saying, buy all the things your children wants...all I'm saying is that, in the midst of problems and fears, we should, first, comfort our children that all that's happening that's bad and scary are all but momentary...that life is beautiful no matter what.

A hug.
A simple pat.
A conversation.
A simple praise.
Having a composed demeanor.
Being calm.
Can these really help? How can we teach something, we ourselves are having a hard time understanding too? How can we impart a lesson that is too big for them to act on but enough for them to understand the bits and pieces of it? How can we make them face life and at the same time retain their innocence...It's a double edge sword...and we might die bleeding....so how?

twisted relationships

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