Death:the final calling

Everywhere I look, there are lives cut short, lives lived in pain ended, lives well-lived taken. 

After hanging on to live each day with a fight, cancer had its way. Tita Rosalie was freed from the aches and sorrows of the world. Thank you for the big smile you always greeted me with, for looking after me and cooking my favorites whenever i stay over for the summer 2 decades or do ago, at that time of my parents' loss, you were there.

I have said goodbye to two friends whom i shared the dancefloor with, their funerals might as well be the quietest party ive ever been to. I couldn't take a step to see Laica lifeless and forever still through the looking glass, i wouldn't have dared to look at Micah had we known of his passing before it was all over Facebook. They'll be alive in my memory, and in the darkness that shroud the smoky room and laser beams cutting through the dark, i'll find them dancing to the beat of the underground. 

The family lost one matriarch, she lived her life well with the love that anyone can only dream of. She sufferred a great loss and suddenly she's gone away with him, in His time. I didnt know her too well, but im grateful that after so many years of feeling alienated from that side of the clan, she pulled us in and filled an inexplicable void. Going up for weekends with you to Laguna, Batangas and Baguio is a memory i'll take with me always, tita Sylvia.

And just a level down from the chapel where she lay, lies Kenneth, beloved stepson to my brother, he was 19 when the bells of heaven rang. I remember him walking around clutching Blues clues and Winnie the Pooh at age 5, now he's gone.

Elsewhere, news of an old friend's passing came up. All i could dial up in my head was the many long beer sessions back home; jokes, duty stories, throwing up, passing out and hearing the whole screenplay of Casper that he had memorized out of his love for Christina Ricci. Kampai Vince!

For weeks, my facebook timeline was filled status updates of getting better, going stronger, hopeful recovery, hospital discharge; light has come through, Gebee is home. Tonight, he followed the light, reached his hands out to heaven and joined his creator. Afternoon playtime was never complete without coming to see the cutest toddler in the hood, now he's 23 and forever will be. 

They've seen better days, bid goodbye to sorrow and the mundane troubles of the world. And if life means enduring the pain, maybe this earth is not a place to hold on to, letting go can be painful as it is easy. Tears will shed and acceptance will be hard, but, death cannot be denied. She will come when the time is right and open the door to lead us to escape our misery. If death is beautiful and free, why must we refuse it. 

Kablag!

Hello blogspot! It looks like we're back on, thanks to this new baby, I'm gonna write on you again.

Damn you x10

But Hello again blogspot! I can blog from here again; it took me months before realizing i should check out the preferences menu. X10 should haave told me!

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.2

New kid on the job

I havent completed 2 full days at work yet I have attended 3 client meetings,have 4 deadlines and one activation project already in sight. What is life!

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.2

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

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.6

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.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

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.

Alcohol free and rocking out

Check out what i'm having! Not the stuff i'm usually seen holding. My red horse days are over. Being off the bad doesn't have to mean getting away from the music. And what better way to hear great music than to stop by a friend's last gig for the year.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

When anxiety attacks...

I go on a frenzy! My credit cards has taken the toll on my wild purchases which i'm happily paying for these days.

I've paid my dues yet my long weekend was foiled miserably. So what's a poor soul to do? Go to mac center and buy an ipod classic to load with angst ridden tracks and pop trash guilty pleasures.

Before this week, i splurged on 3 pairs of sneakers and wii accessories that's keeping me beat.

I have an explanation, im suppose to buy a couch this month but fortunately, my sister is giving me hers and all i hav to pay for is the transport service that my cousin gave me a reasonablr price for. My foiled vacation also saved me a chunk of dough. The music is back in the household.

A lesson learned well, if im planning for solitary confinement, i must not count on my bestfriend or anyone else.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

This used to be my playground

I love the song of the same title but this is not what it's about.

I have lots of places that allow me to relish my childhood, the hectare wide or so General Textiles compound that is now sprawling with high rise condominiums and shopping enclaves that is now known to everyone as Eastwood City.

Over at the GenTex Frisco compound,I know the place like the back of my hand. I can still see it so vividly in my head. I know every nook and cranny of that darn place; what fruit bearing tree stood where, the stone pavement textures and where each pathway leads to.

Here's where i and my cousin would pick guava, chico, duhat, kamias, macopa, star apple, santol and mangoes either by climbing or shaking trees, sometimes we'd use a stick with a wire hook at its tip and catch our harvest on our shirts. There goes my farmville, of almost the real kind. I have a swing dangling by the avocado tree that nanay would tear down every now and then cuz i wanna be pushed high enough to rise over the roof. When i look back at it now, it really was kinda dangerous.

On bright days, we'd be trailing back to our grandmas with our catch for the day. Most times, a catfish takes our bait of swamp snails and then we'd relish our catch by slicing the poor fish in half to watch its tail wag before the cook Eddie plunges it into boiling oil. Some days, we'd bring home a pail of snails and have it cooked in coconut milk. There are days when we couldn't make makeshift fishing rods cuz we couldn't find sticks and thin wires and somebody kept the roll of thread from our reach; this is when the tadpoles experienced the wrath of 2 silly little girls. Eventually, the tadpoles grew into little ugly jumping maniacs and i couldn't get near the swamp anymore, froggy days aren't funny. It took me until biology class to get over frog phobia.

And then there was Ali Mall which is practically an extension of the Fersal apartment compound we resided at for a few years. Here's where i and neighborhood kids run to on weekends, blazing the vinyl tiles in Skatetown even before in-line skates or 'roller blades' was made popular. Our sometimes over-the-top 'taya tayaan' game would stretch from P.Tuazon st. To the mall.

Ali Mall was also an after school destination in high school to which julie, kath, sugar and i would frequent record bars for the latest music releases. This was of course at the time records are worth owning and cassette tapes weren't yet obsolete.

Back in the day, the mall was far behind on its interiors, it had orange tiles that were popular in the late 70s to the early 80s. Today, it's paved with modern gloss white tiles that give it a squeaky clean look. The lighting has changed and like a nursery classroom, Ali Mall looks smaller than i remember. The shops i used to go to are still in their spot and have all managed to slip in renovations to get on with the advancing times. The building now connects via a skywalk from SM, cool addition, very metropolitan and about time actually.

There goes my youth,revisited. Now, i'll relish happier times with a pack of jellyace minus the Rainbow Brite packaging design.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

Just so you know, when i send you messages, i'm never okay. i don't know why you bother asking.
sadly for me, you're never there.

Reassessing asses

we are all bitches and asses in our own ways, it is not to be denied. I can bitch all i want to towards people i'm not acquainted with, but not to people i consider my friends. The hardest thing to sit through is being bitchslapped by a 'friend'. Just now, the very word has lost its meaning. I'm just lucky enough to have a set of friends who know me for what i am and what i'm not.

Put the guard back up, reassess the asses you spend time with and give more time to people who matter.

How well do you know your friends?

It's a question that's been floating around my head since that faithful Sunday a couple of months ago as i sat in a black velvet couch with a couple of friends. We all wondered, How are we friends? It baffled me that all the info we're gettin at that moment carries some shock value to it. Even more alarming was, it went on and on and on.

But my question is, how well do my friends know me?

Either i'm naturally complicated or im asking for too much to have my friends realize that for years and years, my pet peeve is the last minute cancellations. Circumstances aside, it just is my pet peeve and it cannot be altered. It's also the reason why i make surprise appearances at events i didn't officially confirm to be at. I don't wanna be what i dread. Failed as i may be at times, but i try to walk my talk.

Being the youngest of 5, I have several sets of mouths barking at me all the time,add 2 grannies and a nosy aunt, i was always subjected to be asked questions, squeezing stories et al. What they don't get is that sometimes, there is no story. Maybe that's why i turned to a life of silence, confined to history books, essay writing and loud music. It's my way to get away from the intrusive nature of people around me.

It's no wonder i immediately embraced livin' on my own as soon as the road to liberty cleared. Now i wonder if i ever really snuck out of it. I still find myself in the middle of intrusion. I may smile and laugh it off, but really, i'm pissed. I'm resistant in the face of intrusion, the more im pushed, the more i resist even when there's nothing to resist,it's like second nature to me. I can't explain why, i don't know how to. Just thought...leave it as it is and fuck off.

I'm always guarded with what i say, at least when it's about me or my shenanigans or when i'm advised not to. Home is a training ground, again, im the baby of the family and i get to be under everyone's radar. I can't slip out stuff that will wreak havoc into my personal and private space. I volunteer info when i feel like it and when i'm not being grilled and interrogated,otherwise, i'll get in my zone, not to be bothered.

Sure, there are far more things i share with friends than with family. I choose to share particular info, activities with different groups of friends. It's like throwing pieces of a puzzle around. It may seem like a bad thing for some, but i'm privy that way. And it should not in any way be taken as if i'm withholding my life. Diabolical or hypocritical as it may be to some, withholding is a a lifeline. I just hope the goings around won't push me back into my shell.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.3

I'm turning into a geek!

I'm at a point where im trading alcohol for comic books, friday nights for coffee and tv and saturday malling for more coffee and tv. About 2 weeks ago, i was out till 4am and all i had was a bottle of red horse. This is a sign of aging!

Yet on thursday night, i found myself out for dinner and pouring raspberry vodka with friends while rain was pouring and my street was flooded. So there goes absolution from alcohol. Now im home, by the rooftop,camping out with my good old friend, marlboro and a bag of chips while blogging on my phone. Nice! i'm such a loser! i think my highschool buds has officially ditched me for missing to organize night outs anymore. Oh man! work is really gettin in the way of my social life.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.5.9