of Actors, Prostitutes, and Illusions.

A recent conversation about illusions and the people who conjure them filled my humble bunk this afternoon. Pillows squashed, blankets in disarray, a mouth pouted, and everybody involved was feeling the heat of the "argument".

A discussion on illusions created by actors and prostitutes, so intense that it made the popcorn pop...except that there is no popcorn around.

A good actor can get angry at will on stage even if he is at the prime of his life -- driving a fast car, with a beautiful girlfriend, and a chest of, not money, but gold nuggets to feed his ferocious appetite for adventure and excitement. Even if he is, at the moment,the happiest idiot there is...and mind you, this idiot need not be dumb - but that is beside the point.

But when the lights turn on, and as the curtains go up, on the polished wooden floor of the theater stage he poses, times his breathing, concentrates his aura, and lets out a roar, that only angry heathens with broken hearts can let out.

The audience, taken by surprise, their eyes, round in anticipation, hearts beating fast with excitement, fearing the worst, and curious like cats--- what will this actor do next? They are fastened to their seats, almost not breathing, and definitely not blinking so as to not miss anything that's going to happen.

and the prostitute?
no stage for them. but just the same... on the pavement, she poses,
times her breathing in a rhythm that summons up mock courage.
She effortlessly appears to create an aura that she will always be available...for the right offer, of course.

unlike the actors on stage, she has no screenwriters to polish her script, no make-up artist to blush her cheeks...but then again, her roles do not demand such extravagance.

For the right price, she can play the role of a doting, motherly girlfriend, a dominant vixen, and even a naive, schoolgirl virgin.

Both actors and prostitutes give life to the illusions of other people...
actors animate the writer's story, prostitutes work on the need of the clients' illusion to be "loved".

So yes, both are the same...but both are different too.

The actor's audience, expect to see a new world on stage, knowing at the back of the their mind, the the actor is not really his character.
They get amazed, they laugh, they cry, depending on the actor's talent.
They criticize bad actors according to their act and love the best ones upon their perfect delivery of their lines.
But actors do not closely interact with their audiences, in a way a prostitute does.
Actors make up the illusion of make-believe but there has always been a clear, though it may not be a strong line between them and those who watch.
The reviews of their acts are primarily centered on their act.
They also become actors to fulfill themselves, they become actors because they know they can move the audience, and if not, they do training to achieve this.

But prostitutes do not train to become good prostitutes...They just get used to it.
If they offend a client, they are bashed and treated shamelessly, insulted and embarrassed to the core of their being.
To the men who rent them by the hour, who come shamelessly with offers of money to lure them into seduction, they are not seen as actors on stage are.
They make a fantasy and fulfill the illusion of the client to his satisfaction, but their curtains do not fall down.
Actors who are named David, assume their real names at the end of their play...Prostitutes are seen prostitutes even if they are not on the pavement anymore.
Prostitutes moan for the pleasure of their clients in bed. Those moans may not be real, but those moments of being touched and entered and even "violated" are not fantasy per se. The clients subject them to real actions pretending that it is a play. After all, they paid the ticket to heaven.

Am I making sense?
The actors change characters and his illusions evolve to satisfy the audience, and after a great performance, to satisfy themselves.
On the other hand the prostitutes only have one for themselves...the illusion of freedom. That they can do whatever they want to the client to satisfy him as long as the price is right.

The actor's audience come to see what is in store for them.
The prostitute's clients come with their fantasy expecting it to become real for a few moments at a price they can afford.

The audience looks. The clients invade.
The audience anticipates. The prostitutes' clients aggressively take a step forward.
The audience do not know the roles and the lines. The clients dictate it.

Can you say they are of the same?
That they live an illusory life that is brittle, shallow and maybe somewhat superficial?
Does that make the actor's life shallow and brittle and the prostitute's meaningful?
----I don't think so.
Does that make the other better than the latter.
----I don't know.

Yes, they create illusions for themselves and for their audiences.
But aren't we all, in one way or another, become actors and whores at some point of our lives for various causes and reasons,
be it wrong or right? <---but that is beside the point, huh? And what's with the illusions? are they really "not real"? If it is a make-believe that someone can concoct, isn't the fact that it can be concocted, make it so much more a part of reality than not? <--- i know, out of topic. Anyway, The matter of differences is great and so are the similarities. Both play a role to satisfy, be it themselves or others.

Except that the first acts it, the other lives it.
The end...or maybe not.

i tried.

Bloodletting by DavaoBloggers in cooperation
with Red Cross was held today 8am.

Blood Donation.
Ugh.
I was scared but I tried it.
I passed the floating exam =)
It's where they prick your finger and squeeze the heck out of the teeny prick a droplet of blood into this mysterious glass that has a blue liquid in it.
If your blood droplet floats, it means you cannot donate.
If your blood sinks...you can.

Didn't know you have to have some qualifications to begin with...and mind you, they squeeze it three times. And three times, your blood must sink. If it doesn't, you are disqualified for NFA --> not following instruction (nyahah!). The instructions said "blood must not float".

Upon passing the first exam, they give you a paper.
You fill it up TRUTHFULLY.
It's the form you don't want your mom to see.
If you are unsure of what impact such questions may bring to your life. Do not touch the pen, and pretend to faint.

Why?
well, it has some very intrusive questions that you begin to double check if it is really a blood bank or the barracks...or worst, the purgatory.

The questions begin with "Do you feel well today?"
-- well, first question is just apt...the following questions, especially if you are a guilty one, will make you feel NOT WELL in the end of the questionnaire.

It will ask you if you had piercings -- yes the water is warming up...then it asks you if you have had any contact with anybody with hepatitis...then jaundice...then asks if you have AIDS. It doesn't stop there. Asks you if you are alcoholic...a drug addict...and if you have AIDS.
Asks you again if you have had any sexual activity...no? how about any homosexual activities? and ...uhmm...AIDs?

Just as you thought this AIDs thing is already finished...it tells you, making sure, that you do realize that even if you don't know you have AIDS and you turn out to have one, you can contaminate others... hmmmm.

---no worries, no threats at the end of the form...they are just making sure you are not a walking-talking-disease-bearing humanoid that has this evil plan of infecting everyone with HIV because you turn out to be positive.
No! will not allow anyone to use them as an instrument for revenge.
That would be awful.

Anyways, the form asked me questions and it tested my honesty... In the end, it rendered me a useless human being for blood donation. I was discriminated by a technicality...ehem... I will not disclose...be assured that it is nowhere near AIDs...haller!

even so...I got a bracelet! and as Chatee said... "I tried to be a blood donor...I tried to save lives".

as a blood donor, you will be given a red bracelet that says
"I am a blood donor and I save lives"

Kharla a.k.a. impostora...haha!

filipinas typecasted as nannies

Precious Lara Quigaman, the Miss Philippines who took home the 2005 Miss International crown, was asked during the final round the following question:

What do you say to the people of the world who have typecasted filipinos as nannies?

Precious Lara replied, “I take no offense on being typecasted as a nanny. But i do take offense that the educated people of the world have somehow denegrated the true sense and meaning of what a nanny is.”

Quigaman further elaborated: “Let me tell you what she is. She is someone who gives more than she takes. She is someone you trust to look after the very people most precious to you – your child, the elderly, yourself. She is the one who has made a living out of caring and loving other people.”

In closing, Precious ended her nanny speech with, “So to those who have typecasted us as nannies, thank you. It is a testament to the loving and caring culture of the Filipino people. And for that, I am forever proud and grateful of my roots and culture.

a repost - http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=285270749243&v=info#!/topic.php?uid=285270749243&topic=12312

upon sneaking out..

Wear the darkest clothing available. To accompany your dark thoughts and to burn a theme when you stick to the shadows of the cold night when you do an escape. Shadows become your bestfriend...the cold wind warming an even colder heart.

long strides to accompany deep thoughts, you sprint a long circle that sometimes lead you back to your own solace. They won't find you there.

But a dose of more than enough can sometimes satiate a hungry soul. You have come to do what you have wanted and find it to your liking...but not enough to make you want it.
You look at it and find that it is still what it is...but the craving waned.
The curve of hunger is not as as it once was.
You've come to realize that it was what you just needed but you need it no more.
And you open your hands to let it go. And you smile to yourself knowing it was one of the things you will always remember.
And you see it slowly wave and turn as it finally jumps out of your reach.
You have no sense of loss...it wasn't yours to begin with.
You have no feeling of regret, it has served it's purpose.
You don't run after it, it's meant to be free.

You walk away and it doesn't pain you to look back. It did not change to hurt you...but there is change within.
You will always laugh when you remember how it tickled your sense of longing...because the longing is no more there.
It waves and you wave back.
It will call you and you have no problem answering it.
It will still stir your interest but you've ceased to become its mistress. You were never sure if you were anyway... and you will giggle at the irony of it all.
And as you taste the adventures in your tongue and smell the sweetness of having it with you for a while, you sigh...knowing it was just what you had wanted and needed. It was exactly what you had wished for... and you do not care if the dream had ended...All that's important is that it happened.

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.

taking a pause.thinking at a pause.

I've hit a wall.
I'm doing a project where I have identified the goal but am lost in terms of where to begin its execution. I've made the draft and written concepts and has partially completed the project design. Or something...whatever you may call it.
But I'm lost.
And am trying to retrace my steps slowly by identifying factors and returning to the reasons "WHY" I've decided to accept this challenge.
And it helped...but not enough to push me forward. And so here I am fiddling with the keyboard hoping for a strike of genius to smack me straight in my face.

Sometimes, when I am too buried in the things I do, I get lost in the swarm of information I receive that I sometimes lose my ability to interpret them. When one is overwhelmed, one can only be at awe...and sometimes...being at awe for a long time makes me just do that, be in awe. Wide eyed...open-mouthed...and probably salivating.

When this happens, I remind myself of Boyd's OODA loop.

Introduced by a friend years ago, I've managed to clasp on it until it consumed me. But this does not mean I've reached the depth of Boyd's "drestroy and create" philosophy where I can chew on his words without blinking. Nope -- I'm still struggling. Still trying to learn the meaning of his words and still trying to engage such practice in my reality.

Me struggling, and struggling some more to understand Boyd's strat ironically gives me a breather. It reminds me to step back and to re-orient myself correctly. It screams at me that I might be worrying over the wrong thing. It scolds me that my decisions may not be valid because my observation is at fault.

The project material that seem impossible to understand is now being read with fresh eyes. Things suddenly make sense.
Concepts emerge from the once invisible underlying pattern.
I've ceased to become a paralyzed idiot because of the material's impressive qualities...but it doesn't mean that surprises stop there.

What do I mean?
It all goes back to the frame of mind.
That solutions are not the best answers available but rather, solutions are the RIGHT answers to the problem at hand. And you can only get to the right answers when you begin with the correct questions.

In questioning wrongly, even the best answers will render useless. But correct questions can only be asked if you are not afraid to destroy pre-conceived notions and structures. And this does not only apply to the material at hand. It applies to our orientation. And our orientation shape our observations. That's why conventional thinking often leads to conventional reasoning.

For example, there are many ways to get a five.
Instantly our orientation would suggest the conventional thinking 4+1 and 2+3.

But isn't 1+1+1+1+1 a 5 ? or 2+1+1+1 = 5 ?
The addition need not consist of 2 whole numbers only, right?

isn't 2.5 + 2.5 = 5 or 2 1/5 + 2 1/5 = 5 ?
an example that it need not be only whole numbers too.

and the equation is not necessarily addition alone as 15-10 = 5

The mind has to broaden its perspective for it to adapt. Yes, it will be difficult. Yes, it will make you cry sometimes in frustration. Yes, you will have to understand your way of thinking first before you can scrutinize other brains and the treasure it beholds. To readily reject things you cannot understand may be the worst thing you can do to impede your growth. Not only in the aspect of work and projects but as a person.

A person who cannot adapt in the constant changes of the world is a person whose mind is not willing to understand. He will be most likely to get stuck... and his knowledge, once proven effective, may become obsolete in the process unless he learns to integrate it in the new system of the "present".

He will be most likely to be scared of changes because it meant destruction of his conventional frame. In the end, he gets disengaged in the present reality, his decisions ineffective, and his actions useless.

And this is because his mind, in its unwillingness to understand, has underestimated (or may not be aware of) the complexities involved. And many people have been killed because of this arrogance.
To underestimate immediately is to be misled.
To be misled puts one in a disadvantage.
To be in such position would most likely bring you failure.

So when you've come to a conclusion that seems to be different from the usual, remind yourself that a unique concept will always be radical. It will not always be accepted because it will most likely go against the norm. No, you are not rejecting the "norm"...actually, it is a good place to start. It can be a point of reference.
But the norm is not always what it seems.
The norm can be very deceiving.
Like the OODA loop not really being a loop to begin with.

tag game.

its the silliness of it all that makes you laugh. it's the foolishness of everything that makes it all worthwhile. It's how he makes you feel that makes the difference. it's nothing...yet it consumes your every waking moment. You gently tap your fingers without even knowing it. You cannot wait to see him again. And although you have his face outline clearly in your thoughts, you wonder, if he still looks the same...if he still feels the same.

Infatuation is when you find him perfect. But when you realize he is not and it doesn't matter...it must be something else.

tag. you're it.

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.