Gloomy Sunday to Rainy Monday...Part 3

Drafted atop grandpa’s grave on March 7^th.

Dear mama, 

Happy Birthday, sorry I’m 2 days late,  we’ve planned of coming over yesterday but had take a different route to stop someone from joining you here.

I have lots of stories and thoughts about yesterday, I can hardly think. I don’t know where to start. If I should start with how it began or tell you how it ended or everything in between.

It started with a demented text message from the dimwitted lady which your clueless grand daughter initially ignored, but later on gave in and responded to what exploded as the text war of the century at least from my point of view. We've always known how she loves to pick senseless fights, it's her way to tell herself she's a little brave. These mobile things is a little shroud of evil, it was blown out of proportion dragging everyone to the mud. In the course of their text war, warheads hit old grudges and hatchets and stuff that never should have come about. It pissed me so much coz the sinister woman hit the wrong note and tarnished your memory. I felt attacked and had to pounce. I called your clueless granddaughter to quit it but she just wouldn't. 

The next thing i know was my head was exploding, i sent your naive grandson a message to stop it. it wasn't my finest hour. I don't usually meddle with things like this, i just badly wanted the non-sense to stop.

My phone beeped and I froze a little, read it to Ate before she ran out and panicked and then we we're running against time. I sent some encouraging messages, attempted a call then I went outside to light a cigarette. I couldn’t get him on the phone and this time, I needed to calm myself down. I stormed towards the room, I grabbed the Bacardi and some liqueur, fixed myself a drink. I took a leak and decided to make a run for it. I knew I couldn’t do anything sitting down and getting myself drunk while trying to calm down. What are we suppose to do right? Wait for the hour to find out it’s over? Looking back now, I should’ve run to the door and into the cab that instant. Sorry, I must’ve blacked out and lapsed judgement.

430pm, we’re not even halfway to where he is, I know in my heart we’ll be there and get to him in time. We weren’t talking the whole way through. I had thoughts and paranoia going in and out of my head as we make our way to him. I’ve played scenarios where it didn’t end well, I made mental notes of what I might do if everything goes south.

Right there, I wore the mask of bravery and calmness. I found it hard to keep a straight face and not break down, but I had to. I break down, everyone will and then we're doomed. 

Yet at the back of my head, I’m thinking he couldn’t do it, he wouldn’t, but what if he lashes out and does it. But frankly, when I got to him, he had it on the wrong spot, it would have been a fluke. I really think he waited till we we’re there before he gives an open period so we can push the door. He didn’t wait for us to witness it, he waited for us to put a stop to it. By that, he is assured that rough as everything might be, we’re there for him, Always.

What would’ve happened if we opted to let the universe right itself, if we stayed and waited? I probably would have slapped myself and hit my head against the wall. I don’t even wanna think about it.

I’d like to think that he was making a statement, he was sending her a message and really needs her to sink her teeth into it. It was in his mind the only way he could show her off and put the message across. He’s been suppressing his thoughts and feelings for so long and couldn’t take it anymore. Everywhere he turns, she’d be on the lookout. Everyone he holds dear, she holds out. 

When i look back now, i must have pulled the trigger that had him lashing out. I never should have sent that text. I admit, i'm not a fan of his ways, of his decisions, of his choices, of his ideals. I even put him at back burner and dubbed him as my former brother. Sure, we spent lots and lots of time together while I was growing up. I believed in him, learned his ways, took on his thoughts. We've grown apart and he only grew up when he needed to stand up for himself while I struggled to fight for my independence. 

Through that departure, he still chose to send me that fateful message. I keep wondering if he knew in his heart that i'll run toward him, that i knew better to do and respond the way he imagined. I never wanna find out so i guess i'll never know. 

We left when the tension has waned and some light has been shed. But I don't trust the sinister, she is ruled by fear and the lies your daughter-in-law fed her with. 

This has so far been my recollection sans the comedy of errors that happened in between and during the aftermath that somehow lead me shopping as therapy to keep the events of one gloomy Sunday over my head. 

Praying for your peaceful rest and guiding light. I miss you more than words can say. 

When anxiety attacks...a new pair of sneakers arrives on my shoe rack!

PAK!

so...after the tumultuous day, i got myself a pair of purple sneakers. retail therapy keeps my mind of things. i also got 3 dresses and 3 new tops. 

Yay!

Gloomy Sunday to Rainy Monday...Part 2

At the war front, the soldier haven't got a clue that the war broke out on her phone.

The Clueless

Up to this point, she still does not understand how the hell she, in effect started the fire.
I couldn't be anymore pissed. Out of all the things that annoy me, this takes the cake.

Yes, i'm pinning the blame on her for this particular instance, but as the lack of luck would have it,
he wears the chain he forged in life.

What started out as a text war between small minds exploded into a massive strike that hit unlikely and uncalled for targets.

That's what happens when non-contact cat fights take place and the people behind it have no more to say than bullshit.

What can be worse...she finds it to be her proud moment, like as if she was the hero who saved the day, the army officer who saved Private Ryan.

The Hypocrite


If i may channel The Youth, this character is the model of " banal na aso, santong kabayo". She is the reason why i stand by my theory of righteousness towards harboring sacred hatred. But I know better than to assemble my clone army and attack her, i dont have to. In my heart and mind, she's dead.

In that case, she'd be the most horrifying dead person i have been unfortunate enough to know. This war would not have brewed if not for this terrible person who fed the Sinister with malicious ideas to turn her away from the 'truthful' reality. She desperately needed an ally who'll listen to her rant and the plot to drive us crazy. She incited a war that we are now facing.

But where does she fall into this??? She just wiped her hands clean and asked to be spared and be left out of the mess, because she's too busy praying for peace and goodwill and forgiveness.

The Sinister

If this were a video game, this character would be walking around headless. if i had a genie, i'd wish to be the one to take the life out of her.

She is the most dimwitted person anyone could ever meet. Her dimness covers everyone around her with fatal darkness. I knew i was right the first time i ever saw her, blood rushed to my head and all i ever said was "that person is bad". I didn't want to be right about that, but i was, i am and this sinister figure is just too dark to be faded away.

Gloomy Sunday to Rainy Monday...Part 1

I've never had so much stories i'd like to write about, today, i'm teeming with tales that i'd somehow like to forget but learn from.

The weekend started off fine, Friday night coffee at my pad with my brother and sister whilst planning for a family Sunday about paying a visit to our grandmother for her birthday. Over at the east side, our brother and sister are having a beer. All is right in the world.

Saturday found me happy drinking decaf latte overlooking the gorgeous yachts docked under a gray sky morning. Not long after, i was on a boat to Corregidor Island for a much needed departure from the city, breathing fresh air and adoring the vegetation of the war stricken island.

What a pleasant day to be out of town, checking the sights on a cloudy but not rainy Saturday cannot get any better than this. I brushed up on Philippine history as i continue to savor the view of the harbor, monkeys swinging on trees and the feel of gusts of cold air on my face.

I've always had a strong liking for rustic edifices, of walls that tell a million stories that even from a distance and by a mere glance, i can almost hear the life that once was there. It's almost like torn buildings have souls that linger on.

My brother is a fan of model planes and battleships, we used to spend time talking about World War II and guns and ammunition that stomped fleets into dust. I remember sitting on a huge gun in Battery Way thinking how he'd love to be there and see those mean machines, little did i know, he's battling a war and it was about to consume him.

Gloomy Sunday

All I know is that I'll never hear this song the same way again.


After yesterday, i can totally see where Rezső Seress is coming from, albeit not thru my own thoughts or consciousness.


So it has been said that shadows fall through and cast darkness around and then you'd want to take the lights out for good, it's not a myth, it's a fact that all who've lived in darkness can attest to. 


I'd like to bury March 6, 2011 in the abyss of my memory...




Sunday is Gloomy, 
My hours are slumberless, 
Dearest the shadows 
I live with are numberless 
Little white flowers will 
never awaken you 
Not where the black coach 
of sorrow has taken you 
Angels have no thought of 
ever returning you 
Would they be angry 
if I thought of joining you 
Gloomy Sunday! 

Sunday is gloomy 
with shadows I spend it all 
My heart and I have 
decided to end it all 
Soon there'll be candles 
and prayers that are said, 
I know, but let them not weep, 
let them know 
that I'm glad to go 

Death is no dream, 
for in death I'm caressing you 
With the last breath of my 
soul I'll be blessing you 

Gloomy Sunday 
Dreaming 
I was only dreaming 
I wake and I find you 
asleep in the deep of 
my heart dear 

Darling I hope that my dream 
never haunted you 
My heart is telling you 
how much I wanted you 
Gloomy Sunday 
Gloomy Sunday

Flashback to 96

The crowd gathered at the gates of Araneta Coliseum, dressed in the latest fashions. Folks talking on their celfones, cars piled up in the lot and a great amount of enthusiasm in everyone's faces.

I found myself in Araneta Center clueless of what's happening around. I made my way to Starbucks to pick up a Manila to-go mug for my cousin. Feeling out of place from the crowd of middle aged people checking on their daughters about their seats and what-tos and not-tos, i asked the barista,' who's playing?' she said ' Taylor Swift, are you watching?'. I thought 'yeah right, i didn't even know who's playing tonight, and u think i'm watching.

Anyhoo, the whole vibe took me back to 96 when the toast of the music world and every teener's music hero was Alanis Morissette. There i was, 15 and circling the coliseum to find my entry point, elated that in a few hours, my hero in the flesh would be prancing on stage.

Tonight, im not in the audience, just outside looking in, wondring if Taylor Swift will live in the hearts and minds of her legion of fans 15-20 years from now like Alanis, at least for me and some people i know still does sans her irrelevance in the mainstream and tens of unappreciated musical and lyrical gems that never hit the airwaves.

Among the popheads of today, i'd say i kinda like Taylor, only for the reason that she writes her songs, she actually plays an instrument, lyrically, i hang on to nothing but i'll give credit to the fact that her lyrics aren't trashy like some of her contemporaries. Who those are, i don't really know. I've only taken notice of a few poppies in recent years--katy perry, paramore and maybe rihanna and Lady Gaga.

Now here i am, back in the underground scene, blogging cuz the music the bands are playing hardly qualify as music, rather as noise with a little rhythm. Had to sneak out after a bottle of beer and say hello to the artsy fartsy crowd at Cubao X. Ed and i found ourselves at Heima, checking out newbie spinmeisters trying their hand on mixing while we rake on the popcorn, unspiked punch, mallows and cloud 9 buffet. The music moved our feet for a little while and then we slipped out and i fled the scene sleepy. This wouldn't have been the case in 96. But im not 15 anymore and i already tire from booze and slam dancing

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My siamese twin

My feline friend has a nicotine addiction, has a penchant for electronic gadgets, fiddles with plants, loves resting on the orange couch and likes hanging out in the balcony . She's like my siamese twin, only she's a siamese cat.

I've always loved cats and i've always wanted a siamese cat. When Jan offered that i adopt a male siamese, i jumped at it and got all excited. It turns out, my male cat turned out to be a girl, but i dont mind like i thought i would. She's a darling. I have a live stuffed toy running around my pad, pulling my socks off the hamper to play with,walks on my keyboard when i pay no mind to her. Jumps at me and rests on my shoulder just as i lay my back flat on the couch. It's like having a baby i can leave without a nanny.

They say having a pet teaches responsibility.that only goes for kids. It is a responsibility, now i have vet appointments and vaccinations i need to keep track of, my grocery list includes cat litter and pet food.yes, my current indulgences are named Beckett; Beckett the bad ass female detective in Castle and Beckett the cat who i named after the detective.

I've cared for probably around 6 cats growing up. I named them garfield, kimba, alanis and the triplets, i named them Lion, Tiger and Leopard. Leopard lost his life under the wheels, Tiger ran away with a femme, Lion the flying cat died old age. Cheetah came after, but i had to leave him in the old place when i moved out to Marikina.

Never did i think i'd take a pet after Braunie.We lost our 9 year old dog Braunie last year and the memory of his time with us will be with us forever. How can we forget the nights he walked us around the block warding off bad elements like an armed bodyguard. He'd see us off every morning, prancing and barking at everyone on our way as if the majesties are marching out.

He's been replaced with another dog i can't manage to call upon without mumbling on Braunie or Beckett's name. Even pets cannot be replaced. All im wishing for now is what everyone wishes for every family member, a long, healthy life.

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Alcohol Free, Free Alcohol

It seems my freedom from alcohol has failed miserably. an open bar with no option to have water ruined me. and just as i was trying to get away from it all, alcohol came pouring in, just about the same time, i had a bar shelf installed at my place so i can chug fancy cocktails of my own invention every so often.

The worst part of successfully getting away from spirits for a bit of two weeks was that, a single jolt of alcohol got me wired, looking loaded and talking shit. Wednesday is upon me and another open bar is fearsome. i hope this time they'll serve me water.

The Cafe Zone

What is it about coffeeshops that get my fires burning? for one thing, i can get in the zone playing the music loud on my ears, not worrying that somebody behind me calls out. and since its outside the premises of the office, i can ignore the number popping out on my mail app.

it's becoming an expensive workplace, but what the heck, i get things done. it's not exactly quiet like my home room but there's not a bed or a couch i can jump into, no TV to channel surf on and no DVD marathon session waiting to run. Plus, free internet to browse my sites doesnt hurt so bad, well, not if my fellow OCDs are asleep and postless on tumblr.

the orange lighting soothes me fine, the noise from the cars buzzing by and the loud lady behind me is not my concern nor the smoke that gets in my eyes. this is every bit of freedom and concentration as i can get. and hearing voices around can sometimes stir up new ideas that i can use for my writings.