Lazy thoughts.

It's like drugs.
You get addicted to it.
You cannot say no.
You get angry for no reason.
You get so consumed that you feel lost in your madness.
And when the hype is all gone, you feel there is no reason for living anymore...or to get out of bed to do something stupid.

There are some days when i am so certain about what i want. Some days, I just don't know what to do with myself. And so i try to creep in into the depths of what remains inside to justify all the sudden hurting i feel.
There is nothing to do? I feel useless. It's these times that I feel neglected. It's these times that I am annoyed for no apparent reason.
Be it the sudden banging of the door.
The shrieks of the neighbor.
The slow careful steps outside my bedroom door.

Left on my own, slouching in bed, worrying over useless things and imagining even more useless things, I tend to find peace. In the oddest sense of feeling useless and exuberant to be able to laze around, I find a serenity that my working days has robbed me. Growing up with a mom to fuss over me and a nagging nanny who directly reports to the parental authorities, I find it hard to find a special space of my own to think my tinker thoughts. Now, with no mom and no nanny to invade my personal sanctum, unleashed and free to do whatever that was not allowed before, I find myself confused and with no direction. So many things to do and wanting to do it all at once ---- it is making me dizzy.

I tell myself, growing up is like learning how to walk.
One step at a time.
One single step towards whatever you want.
One single step towards experimentation and idiosyncrasy.
And if the steps are proving to be slow ones, hop and jump, and even roll.
Laugh while you're at it.
Stomp if it frustrates you.
Be careless if need be.
Just avoid being chained again.
Refuse to be tied to anything.
Leave whatever that entails imprisonment.
Cry when you want.
Forget if things got too hurtful.
Take pills if you cannot sleep.
Do not growl. You don't have to be ugly to look tough...but it helps.

and if the world got too noisy, I remind myself that I can always retreat to my own secret hiding place where no one will be admitted.
If the world got too rowdy, let them fight among themselves.
If the world is starting to get smaller, find another planet and alien to play with.

You don't have to conform.
You don't have to follow.
You play by your own rules.
Be polite to the nasty and be patient to the idiots.
Observe. Understand. and play with people intelligent enough to understand your game.

Be silly.
Avoid buses when driving.
Get a license.
and don't stop learning how to cook.

Not so Christmassy thoughts.

Every time I tell friends that are not from Davao that fireworks are banned here, I always get a disbelief reaction.

Oh well, it might sound strange but severed fingers and appendages due to stupid miscalculation of whether "to throw now or not" and "to throw where" (the deym firework) is just not part of the party plan here.

We get zero dismembered limbs from judas belt -->one of the most powerful firecrackers I've heard of. If you are unfamiliar with it...it looks like a long belt with strings of small powder wrapped in a cute way. With more than a hundred cute packets of sulfur in a string that goes off endlessly once you've light it up.

It is quite obvious that the genius who made this type of "disaster" is familiar with the "domino effect". However, in this case, instead of pushing the dominoes, you light the firecracker...and so it goes until it ends. It won't stop to see if you have severed a finger or two... If you stupidly wrapped it in your neck for a fur-like effect, it won't pause to even look at your head blow off...and it might not even be over when your head hits the ground. It follows no other schedule aside from its own. It will not apologize for dismembering any part of your body. Chances are, it might sue you for being there and possibly softening its effect because it had to hit your appendage or head. It will not forgive anti-climax factors...like you. Holidays are supposed to be a blast...It frowns on such... If you are...you will suffer.

If you hate your life -- arrange it with this dude. He will gladly end it for you...festively...don't forget to shout merry chrismas, ok.

If you hate your life and your neighbor -- this dude will make sure your neighbor feels it...You blow yourself near the hated neighbors' yards...pieces of your flesh will go to their private spaces...and believe me, another sight of fresh meat will make them puke even if they change houses after. Who knows, your flesh, pound by pound...so fresh in their eyes, might turn them into eternal vegetarians...Fish may not be included in their future menu even. That is one point for you... Sad thing is...you can only do it once...well if you blow yourself piece by piece, maybe it is possible to do it alot of times...or you can gather all your enemies in one boat when you do it...make them eat ice cream...make sure they are licking it from their cones when you do this "blowing" thing. Open mouths is better than open yards right?

or plan a party...offer sushi. Hehe.

Ok. I will stop. This is morbid and I am smiling too much -- which is sick.
Oh well...Merry Christmas everyone ^.^

death of a friend

What a way to go. He couldn't have picked the best time... It is perfect. Everybody is celebrating the dead. He instantly becomes a celebrant. But is it worth celebrating? A friend expires and we are left behind with nothing but memories of him. Memories that are not even accurate. Memories to be visible only in words as we write and talk about an expired friend. no...expire is demeaning. retired would be a suitable word. or is it?

death is as common as can be. everyobody I know is always related to someone dead.
We, ourselves are going that way...But it still sends shivers everytime I am informed of a death, especially of a loved one. Confronted with this reality, we tend to question our mortality. We look for ways to validate the fact that we are living the life we want. or the life we thought we want.

*Sigh. suddenly, just knowing we wont see him again, instantly I immediately want to see him. Pathetic. Pathetic and too late. Does he know that I see him special? Does he know I see him as a good friend?

the answer holds no value now.... ---right? questions and answers are for people who can question and answer...I wish the opposite though, but that would mean, we'd have to bring him back to life... please -- find someone who can arrange.

writing my way to sleep.

where is mr. sandman when you need him?

I can feel the air getting colder and my feet are kinda liking it. Humming slowly to calm my wandering mind and making a havoc in other people's lives by sending unnecessary hellos via sms to people who don't want to be disturbed.

Im sorry. I am a bad girl. And this bad girl is having trouble sleeping. And just like any other bad girl, this little missy is making sure, her suffering of having another sleepless night is being shared with other people who've hit the bed with ease and who unfortunately have their cellphone under their pillow. Im sorry, but misery loves company.

My nocturnal friends have, to my disadvantage, gotten smarter. They know what to do now when they receive my sleepless-night-lovenotes...They ignore it. hehe. Or better yet, they reply with an invitation for me to come out of my hibernation to join them in their prowl of the city. Regardless of the fact that I may look like a party-girl, I am not. My semi-goth choices of clothes and make-up is something I wear because I like it...not because I have some goth-party to attend to...that's just me...weird. Anyway, an invitation to party out always make me stuck my tongue out in frustration. I rarely go out to socialize.

Don't get me wrong, I am a happy, outgoing little missy-- it's just that I have my own little party twirl in my head. A second party will just mess me up. A hot coco is a better preference to soothe my heart and calm my soul. Plus I grew up where parties are for special occasions. haha CHAR.

oh well.

My choices of whatever is the least of my concern tonight.
I am willing to give up my bloody red lipstick for a few winks from mr. sandman. Ok, let me throw my to skull tops too...
but please please don't ask for my slippers...they are expensive.

I know I should stop wearing slippers in my meetings...but I've totally given up wearing sandals and shoes for a year now that I find it quite difficult to give up the comfort of having my bare feet worshiped by friends and strangers alike. WOhoo! The comfort of feeling their eyes look at my stubby toes as it lightly taps in choreography that makes them wonder if the toes will even fall out sooner or later as they hold their breath in fascination.
Ok I made that up.

It's just comfortable...plus they're mine.

ok, now im starting to worry about my feet. Thank heavens, we have a just God, he gave you a pair of your own to worry over...if not -- you must have done something to piss him off. All I can say is...better learn how you did it and fast, before you start doing it again and have your organs removed next.

Lucky you if He chose the kidney first...if not --you might voluntarily offer that one...others get a Php100,000 in the exchange... but the money is actually not a payment for the organ...you cannot make God pay for something he made...the money you receive is a debt...to be paid in installments...within small measures of suffering when you urinate everyday...when your pissing with one leg up...that means, your interest just got higher.

Awww..that is sad... I don't want to give up my kidneys..not now. Not ever... well...except when I really have to. hehe. Giving up something we love or something that is a part of us will always be painful...It can come in the form of SBOD --shocking blow on delivery or to be experienced in installments of small measurements of suffering stretching from a week to half a millenium... But that is life. It is neither free nor fair. It has its own sets of jokes that we sometimes find cruel rather than funny... But its jokes are always funny. We just sometimes don't have the right sense of humor.

Speaking of which....so many things I want to say...but sleep has finally found it's way to me....hehe. good night world...hello mr. sandman. finally.

dazed in manila (again.)

(written in agave.many nights before)

green and orange lights is constantly distracting my reflective mood. But Roberto and Bincatot is here and both are a distraction themselves...in the best sense (both good and bad). Roberto just recently asked me what do i need? Never mind the premise of such question. Hmmm...so what do i really need? a backscratch and a footrub. My warm bed, my books, and the incandescent glow of my night lamp...

(...continued in davao)

After being in manila the nth time -- I still feel lost here. (Oh well, i get lost anywhere regardless anyway). It's ok to get lost -- but to feel lost is another thing. Maybe because I never really accepted Manila as home. It never has been -- don't think it will be in the future. But who knows...nobody really knows anything. I don't even find it relevant to ask in the first place.

but somewhere along the way, after the nth time i got annoyed because of no particular reason, I found me a little home sweet home. In the 5th floor of azotea de bel air are 3 bunks for the urban tiger like me. Clean and fresh, cozy and vibrant...warm people that treat you like family -- exactly what i need. It's a treasure in the heart of makati -- and in front of tito chito's watering hole.

I still find manila impossibly noisy and crowded

there are some things that you just have to surrender to. I was in Agave when I first wrote the first few paragraphs of this blog. The lights, I bet, are still blinking in its orange and green glow there, the dj must be probably playing a different set of music in the same volume range.-- enough to jumble your already mixed up brain but a few notches short of making you a permanent deaf. A group or two must be crowding their tables outside with maybe a loner in a corner drowning silent tears with a bottle of beer... maybe a chick with a margarita, trying to get drunk for the first time. But one girl is missing...ME. I'm not there seeking my solitude amidst the loud melody of their music...I bet Roberto is somewhere in Merville doing things I would probably be doing if I was him. I don't think Agave will miss me... But the lights might notice that a fan is missing its glorious display of oragne and green tint. Do you think it will look for me?

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.

the pain, the past, and the present

Gettin ready for the weekend's steel fencing. Of course the doctor said something about laser -- wow! she just know how to make things sound even more complicated and -- err painful. Thank God for the discovery of Anesthesia, i wonder how some treatment, like -- ehem -- surgery?, would advance had anesthesia was not discovered. Hospital corridors would be like a clean prototype of a standard A slaughterhouse.

"Welcome! to the world of bleating patients and growling physicians. **in this case -- you'd be thanking heavens for the invention of A/C...
coz at least, u can bleat in your own privacy as the doctor sticks his hand on your stomach by inserting his finger on your nose. waaahhh... oh wait -- anesthesia comes before a/c -- hahah!

anesthesia was introduced around 1840s. Before that, patients are expected to whimper in pain or suck it up like a gentleman. "Uhh, excuse me Mr. Bunny, but I have to take your intestines out to clean them -- it's gonna be uncomfortable -- but you'll live" ...toinks -- in this case, id choose death.

This makes me grateful to my mom -- SHE, who gave birth to me in this era and age of aesthetics and superficiality. Where everything is ready to wear and over the counter. Where there is beer to cure certain heartaches and TV to entertain the sad. Where giving birth can be as easy as one-two-three (errr or something... it is not life if it ain't painful in some ways,y ou know...and giving birth is giving forth new life -- literally =P)

Well, may I gently remind you that I am a mother of FOUR. I mean, how could you expect me to give birth without any pain medication. It's gonna be like giving birth to a watermelon... OR---NOOOOO ! -- it's gonna be like spurting out a condo building, with Olympic-sized swimming poolS and parking spaces (with parked SUVs and buses), not to mention rooftops and balconies...who knows! the annoying guard with his gun, along with the town's carabao might come out too! waaaah!

In the olden times, I think they get you drunk or use opium -- great... a legitimate reason to be a drunk or an addict.

After grunting a whole community of soon-to-be scientists and world leaders, you'd be lucky to survive with anything intact...

"oh you'd sew them for me? -- no thank you" --

"you insist?! thank you but no --- im fine with the gaping hOle in my stomach-- the doctor slashing it with an axe did a good job of introducing pain, I don't need you poking and poking me with that needle you just heated in the furnace...."

" oh no --please, I'll kill you if you touch me!!!"

"MAAAA!"

I'm a scaredy cat when it comes to hospitals.

My brother does medical missions every year and i could just remember the stacks of supply in my dad's home. Stacks of IVs, catether, needles, meds, etc...that hasn't been used and was just stocked there till the next mission schedule. It was, in my eyes then, very very interesting -- but when you have someone who knows how to manipulate the syringe and is doing so to instill fear in you -- it can be traumatizing as well.

Those wittle machines you see in the ER are but an appliance we commonly use at home. That's why i feel like im home in ER -- no -- when I say I feel like its home, it's not the same thing as being comfortable. It just means, I'm no stranger to the apparatus -- but am unfriendly still towards it.

Those machines and apparatus could be so cold sometimes, invading your inner most privacy that sometimes it makes you think if it is actually reading and translating your thoughts in various frequencies.

Spent half of my life in hospitals where my check up interval were spaced between weeks and admission is a constant requirement every month. My sorry ass stays in the hospital bed for days and I go home almost always not knowing what really happened.

The doctor dont talk to me...my mom doesn't, my dad is somewhere in the States, my brother doesnt know anything and I didn't ask...

I don't know why -- confinement seems as if its the normal thing to do before- a small fever, a gentle cough, difficulty in breathing -- often results to a cbc test and IV insertion with half of my family and neighbors worried to death... sheesh.

I remember I was admitted during an exam week -- and it was the finals... and I remember, almost crawling my way to the 5th Floor -- for someone who can't even stand straight- that was not a very enthusiastic experience for me...needless to say, I was not a happy camper when I reach my destination. Oh how did I manage to walk? i wasn't walking -- my ex husband dragged me to insanity till i budged a little...

And so with my exploits in the white halls of the sick, I am happy, I'm visiting a dentist this sunday. At least, her office is not white, and it is always full of cheerful people. Except for that monstrous needle she needs to poke my gums with...I'm fine...--well --if only she could take that stainless thingie she has on her platter of torture, I'd be ok. oh-- and If only she'd do it silently without the light chatter coz it makes me nervous, she might not be concentrated enough -- *breathes deep -- inhale.exhale. It's gonna be alright.

I think I'm in good hands...
(but I'll drag my mom with me...just to be sure.)

I love you but I don't really have to like you, right?

It's a classic. You fall in love with someone you would never ever thought of loving.

what's that line? over my dead body. 

well, in this case, he just stepped over your corpse...coz you already died when he flashed you that smile that made you curl your toes as you heart was melting.

he is just so wrong for you...huh?

he is everything you wouldn't put in your wanted-boyfriend ads -- 

and the way he limps when he walks, you'd think he is drunk! 

and his hair is always too long and messy!

and he has the expression that you just want to slap off his face...

BREAK!!!!

it's kinda annoying isn't it?  To hear a friend talk over and over again over how lame this one guy is. Or what a jerk  he might be. What a big loser he is with his friends...and gosh, have you heard of the girl he kissed last night? she is soo into telling you how she hates this guy that she never notices that -- all SHE talks about is him.

and so you drop hte million dollar question -- "do you like him"

classic answer would be -- a surprised expresion, hands flailing, eyebrows being raised and a firm - NO! of course not.

inside I scream ---  "then why is it that all we talk about is him?!"

makes you laugh right? she is falling for him and she doesn't even know it.

but its almost always the case with us girls, we end up wanting the one thing we swore to never put in our "ideal man" list... we scratch their faces off our own little world, never wnating to write his name -- and then-- tadaaa!! we end up signing a marriage contract instead waaahhhh!

No I'm not talking about my love story here. God know my own story is sooo crooked and messy, you'd end up wanting to drown yourself, rather than read and suffer the irony of my life. Not that it is that much of a suffering...it's more of following an idiotic sense when common sense should have prevailed.  

Hey! it's not easy being me you know, so back off -- I'm sure you have your own sob story hidden somewhere between your armpits...all i have to do is make you raise your arm and tickle you. kuchi kuchi kuchi.

anyways. what about this friend of mine? oh I'll call her later and pretend to listen while i have my earphone on the other ear. 

It's always the same old lines. I just like hearing her voice. It is sort of a comfort, regardless of the fact that all i get is almost always a replay of complaints and subliminal i-love-him messages. 

I don't have to like the guy to listen to his story...I love my friend enough...and I like hearing her rant. Something I can use against her when the need arises hahahaha! she has the right to remain silent-- and nope, she aint using that right...tsk tsk tsk.

anyways...  is it really possible to love someone you can't even like?

like is a relative word, right? could it be that you like him but your dislike of his personality is just a scale higher, thus highlighting hate more?  

i mean, there are certain relationships that displays that...like me and my mom.  There is no doubt I love my mom and I mean the world to her... if I get hurt, she'd die for me --- but sometimes, I know for a certain, that although she'd lay her life for me, there are times when she'd be willing to get an axe to chop my head off... 

Thank God,  sanity prevails...or is it the deficiency of the moment? (we don't have an axe sharp enough to cut ** ain't i lucky o.0  - sheeesh).

It's a love and hate relationship.

Even with my bestfriend.  who is sooo stupid and insecure "he" would wage war with his current partner --and guess what, I get to be blamed for it, becuase duh, i'm the only one who is close enough to the partner and her...waaah!

that's why, I didn't talk to her for months. I don't wanna be in the middle of a war where my only mistake was to be strategically positioned in middle! 

they throw bombs and they gun eachother! guess who ends up dead? me!

i get to catch all the bullets becuase I am within the firing range...drat! my ass hurts!!! and to think her partner is not really doing anything. she would say things and ask her about stuff that irks her...because it is really annoying to be asked stoooooooopid questions. 

At First, I tell my bestfriend... leave her alone!!!! i can't have you on her ass while I am working with her! nope -- "HE" doesn't listen..hooookay... FINE! I teach the  girl to turn off her phone if my bestfriend becomes too annoying...hahahahah! 

then they end up fighting becuase the stooopid bestfriend gets the wrong message, the girl hears a different thing because my bestfriend twists my sentences!!!! blah. blah. blah....

wait a minute! this aint my problem!...shyet.

 so i excused myself and dropped them both off to the floor to take care of their own asses -- i've underestimated them ....coz they are now doing very well on their own *laughs 

but yeah, my bestfriend irks me to the point of making me want to commit murder. But we are both different. and we do not necessarily have to laugh at eachother to know we have eachother. If i axe my bestfriend's head, and somebody out of sheer pity helps me, I'd turn to axe him down becuase he axed my bestfriend -- he has no right to do that! 

yeah... That's how sick our relationship is. 

and so this thingie with my friend that is somewhat annoying because she can't stop talking about this guy she doesnt like? nah! it's peanuts. 

If she asks me for advice, I'd tell her to go ask him on a date and then tell me how horrible it was **grins.  but of course -- over her dead body.