Isandaang Karagatan
Posted at 01:44 PM

Sa Gitna Ng Sistema... Jogging, Jogging! reunion. These were taken in Cabalen, Napolis and Moomba. Ei little fairy, I don't need to send no pictures anymore. You can see how stressed Med life's rendered me :scared

Posted at 02:16 PM

And a 1-2-3-4 and a 1-2-3-4! Sigh! It's really tiring to try to gain weight and not gain a pound. My dearest and I started jogging yesterday in UP. He wants to lose weight while I want to gain weight. Dang , metabolism ! We'll try to jog everyday if schedule permits. 'Coz sometimes, I just want to go straight to bed when I return from work. Sometimes, I feel that all this (working out and jogging) goes to waste because I'm just too tired to even eat dinner before I doze off. It's frustrating. I did see mama last night though, when Baby and I went to get her. Masaya naman. Kwento, kwento. Matagal na kaming hindi nakakapagkwentuhan. It's seldom that I'm able to catch her at Kuya Dinky's home. Gone are the days that I just go there to visit and vent my frustrations and angst against the world. Of course there is no longer a cause to vent out but, there is still my inummerable, almost impossible aspirations. So, hurray for me Time is a little bit slower today than usual. Maybe 'coz there's a system maintainance outage for 3 hours so I can't access my tools. Arrgh! Kakanta na lang ako. Isang oras na lang at pwede na akong magsa-ninja at mag-disappear dito. Hehehe! My birthday is nearing. I wonder what the fates have in store for me on that faithful day *grins from ear to ear* Sana kasama ko ulit si Baby. I've been having a perfect week with him and basking in content. Sana laging ganito

Stand Up
Posted at 07:30 AM

Stand Up Part List in UP Diliman has been flooding me with sms' all day. I think it's their election day at the campus and their trying to persuade people to vote them. Tough luck, I'm already an alumnus of UP and mind you, I'm not from UPD, I'm from UP Manila. Tsk! I shouldn't have given out my number when I went to UPD to watch Dead Poets Society last month. My inbox keeps on accumulating unessential messages. Anyway, maybe if their campaign included the Steel Dragons singing Stand Up, I'd pay more attention to those sms' and maybe even visit when they're out on campaign (with the Steel Dragons, of course). But I guess, that's far-fetched hoping, considering the Steel Dragons are already disbanded ever since 19-forgotten. Stand up and shout Stand up stand up stand up and let it out Stand up and shout Stand up stand up stand up I know what you want and what your thinking I can free your sexuality. No ones ever tortured you with pleasure Pleasures all you'll ever feel from me Stand up and shout Stand up stand up stand up and let it out Stand up and shout Stand up stand up stand up I just want to see you in the garden Dressed up as you came into this world Shining through the candle of deception Lighting up the underlying world. Stand up and shout Stand up stand up stand up and let it out Stand up and shout Stand up stand up stand up (slur) Stand up and shout Stand up stand up stand up and let it out Stand up and shout Stand up stand up stand up ** Cris recommends the movie Rockstar, a movie about the band Steel Dragons.

Steel Dragon's Stand Up

Talula
Posted at 05:52 AM

* Good evening, my eager imps. ‘Been waiting with much anticipation for my next entry? I’ll try my best not to disappoint you with fillers and nonchalant stories about servitude and me. Let me try to write something that would give you a panorama of the kind of people who’ve unknowingly taught me how to weather storms, even if they’ve become the most unaccommodating wretches they are. Let me try to write about squeezing virtue out of a towel soaked in prejudice and loss of empathy. But then again, I’ve always been optimistic about things; bringing me to my current state of happiness – content. Let me try to share this little entry and maybe, you’ll make something out of it and see for yourselves why it is always good not to wish anybody ill and just leave the hands of fate to its task.

Nothing but the soft kisses of zephyr touching her cheek and the soft green cushion of grass crushed under her weight was to be felt that night. Talula was silently contemplating her state of nothingness. She did not exist; at least in the lives of those whose impermeable lives she wanted to penetrate, invade. She was a wild child, and a woman who has grown into so much abandon it was her vanguard – to be bold and show no fear. But now, as the gentle wind willfully tries to mollify her in a trance between wake and sleep, she is put into deep contemplation with regards to her depressing state of being alone. How many times were the words “I care for those people that I love. Those who have no weight on my life or whatsoever, can very well just keep on wishing” uttered without that much thought and deliberation? Having a conscience was never you’re cup of tea; as much as guilt and consideration never took time to visit your little party. You are alone Talula, and it is only now that you are able to feel it. Soon, it will visualize itself upon you and you will cry like you’ve never cried before. You will shed the tears that saturated the black pools – mirrors to the souls of those whom you’ve unmindfully spited. And they will mourn for you, as you are silently lowered to the pit you’ve tediously dug with your most inconsiderate vanity and majestic pride. You chose to see things as you perceived them to be and played deaf to the pleas of clarity you’ve chosen to bottle and cap with your ignorant bliss and folly. You were never the bold and the rarity you claim to be, and they pity you. You scream with the most deafening silence, but no one can hear you – no one chooses to. The only charities you receive are the condolences of the one you’ve hurt most. Zephyr kisses you with the most soothing breeze you’ve ever felt in your life. She releases you from the shackles that chained you to the ground and you can feel yourself floating, floating. “Leave me alone.” You are alone. They’ve left you to your peace, your nothingness. You are left in the limbo of forgetfulness and piety. “Why is this happening to me? I didn’t do anything.” Haven’t you? Ask yourself again, my little mouse and while you’re doing that, run! Time is catching up with you and you will be left with no one to answer your moronic queries but your ignorant little self. “I give up. What should I do? I don’t want to be alone.” The answer is blowing in the wind. Truth. It is hard to find and comes in fleeting hints of hope. Seek it out. Don’t wait for it to find you. Most of the times, it will never be given freely but if you try with utmost endeavor to earn it, you will. Accept it, and you will have closure. There is a throbbing sound ebbing in the distance. Is it your heart? Dub-dub-dub-dub-dub-dub The sound is fading, fading. Sadly you strain to hear that promising rhythm but frown to discover that it was not your own after all. Yours died a long time ago. *Did I badger Talula in my innocent little entry? Of course not. Afterall, she is the bold and the queer as she claims to be.

Lead Weights
Posted at 12:20 PM

Ebony and Ivory
Posted at 08:32 PM

Only the clash of ivory resonating across the savanna vibrates in the almost painful atmosphere. Two bulls find themselves locked in a match to prove who is able to free themselves from their own tusks caught in the other’s first. Dust from the burnt sienna soil, evidence of richness in copper; and smoke from gunfire clears them of this dilemma. Accurately, they scamper with an elephant’s speed as the poachers, oblivious to hidden cameras, chase them in pursuit of their precious ivory. Dad and I have slumped ourselves in rocking chairs and we have been watching National Geographic for an hour. I don’t believe it. Usually, it only takes him twenty minutes of watching these kind of documentaries before he is claimed by the sandman and swept off to dreamland and back, and then to dreamland again. He and I’ve been the best of friends before, only to be wedged apart by a hag called Edna. But now, time seems to have run out of escapades to offer and so, my father have but us, his children and his overly industrious wife to fill his thrill-seeking nature. No more slipping away in the cloak of the night and buzzing and whispering through the phone’s receiver in the most ungodly hours. Yup, we are like cream and coffee again, daddy and I. “Oi, Dad. Gising ka na dyan at lipat na kayo sa kuwarto. Mukha kayong kawawa dyan sa rocking chair.” Dad scratches his head and starts to open his mouth to try to address the issue -- of him not being asleep. But he decides to keep mum about it instead. He is being tugged by Morpheus to sleep and so he decides to rise and go to the bedroom. ** Don't get me wrong. I love my Dad. I've always been Daddy's girl. Our relationship however, has not always been cream and coffee. He can be a jealous boyfriend sometimes or even an old, post-war grampy. The nice thing about our relationship though, is he can be my beer buddy and my eloquent gentleman on the side. I guess, I have to follow his example and try to catch some shut-eye. I'm so tired....

Tori Amos' Professional Widow

Wolves
Posted at 08:38 PM

The sky was an odd mix of purple and gray, almost indigo. The smoke was clearing and we could almost see ourselves home, free. We’ve been speeding across the freeway for a quarter of an hour, afraid that they might catch us – afraid that those filthy paws might find themselves groping through already unfeeling bodies. Let me try to recapitulate what just happened to me, to my Gothic prince, to us. Eyes glinting with greed; fangs showing through broke sneers. Three figures began to materialize through the smoke screen created by big monsters in the highway. The wind was dreadfully whipping our faces even as we began to roll our windows up inside our steel stallion. These men, these wolves were barricading the streets just so they could hoard a few bills for their own filthy pockets. It amazes me that they can be this thick, to even flash a smile of pride to the myriad of creatures trying to travel in their own metal steeds. To them, we are their game, their prey. Of course, the Goth god, oblivious to man’s laws except his own, would not let any of these damned souls perpetrate his quest to bring his equally soulful princess home. At last, I heard the crunching of rocks and petrified leaves under the black tires of the old Lancer. My heart began to leap, for I knew that we were there. We had reached home. I went out to open the brick red gates of placidity and solitude. We were home alone, save for his mom who was willfully up to her intent task of preparing a meal for her family. We gestured our “hellos” and we were off to mind our busy schedule. “Time to eat.” “What’s for dinner?” “Wolves.” ** My dark prince and I were talking about an almost misadventure with the MMDA’s early this afternoon. He forgot to put the new sticker on his car. An officer was waving, gesturing for him to make a swerve to the right so that he can then start with the signature litany and ticket offertory. It seems that these people almost consider this a holy duty or something. Tsk! ** I’m so happy, I got a letter from my fairy godmother. He says that his sister in Canada bought the book, Master of Rampling Gate for moi, and has asked her to bring it to Korea when she comes to visit. He says he’ll be mailing me the package as soon as it arrives. Goody! Thanks, Dino! Anyway, one of my constant reveries these days is the fact that a lot of people have been telling me that they anticipate entry after entry logged in my little chronicle of babble. Let me quote the following phrases from someone, obviously adept due to her years. If you have come to these pages for laughter, may you find it. If you are here for vexation, may your ire rise and your blood boil. If you seek an adventure, may my stories lull you away to blissful escape. If you need to try or confirm your beliefs, may you reach comfortable conclusions. All entries reveal perfection, by what they are, or what they are not. May you find that which you seek, in these pages, or outside them. May you find perfection, and know it by name. And so, let’s hear you rant & rave. Make a comment, or better yet, email me at darkwinter@immortal.com I would love to hear your lurid sighs of pleasure, your lucid whimpers, your resonating screams of ire and or vexation, your subtle gasp of content. Let me hear you, or better yet, don’t let me hear you. Let me see for myself in your eyes, your own experiences of love, folly, and anger. Until then…

Siren by Tori Amos

Recollections of 50
Posted at 07:45 AM

Fair tidings, my dear little godlings! How hast the three sisters -- fates, treated you this morn? I was willfully dragged out of my own bed chamber by echo and breeze. Time to work. I'm sure its the same for you, immortals of time; waking in the wee hours of the night (and dawn), to breeze through the thick pages of Harper, Guyton and Moore (bible for the freaks), like the way I always used to. I miss UP Manila. I miss FEU-NRMF. I miss waking during ungodly hours to build a new line, a new crevice in my brain. Does having studied Medicine for a year make me an expert on Physiology, Biochem or, ugh, Anatomy? Maybe not. But the sense of pride that drives a being, knowing that she was able to pass several Med applications and a year of mind-churning science, application and humanity makes her feel all the vigor she would have gotten from 50 years of human experience. More so, if I were an intern right now. Cheers to you, my fellow dreamers, wisdom warlocks and witches of time! Continue to weave your magic, illustrious ones. And just say hello to Father Medicine for me. ** I was informed by a kindling, Dr. Isla, that my ramblings have reached the far screens of internet cafes along UP PGH. My profile in friendster too. The honor is mine, dear sprites, as always. Vanity is indeed a favorite sin, so forgive the mindless ramblings ** FYI: I have been busy filling my void in a new account in friendster. For those who want to have their fill on another profile, type in Demigoddess under the first name & Darkwinter under last name in the user search. Pardon me if I am unable to add any wandering soul immediately after a request. As you may be able to empathize, the account is for allies in my worldly embellishments (7 Deadly Sins to be exact). I watched 50 first dates with my Endymion last night. I recommend the movie for forlorn souls and those who might feel that they no longer believe in Cupid's cause. Love was felt again by this beating mass. I have fallen again, for the nth time.

Skid Row's In A Darkened Room

Bleak Stop
Posted at 03:03 PM

Kamay, singputi ng tisa, Malamig sa opisina, Matang mapula, Kulang sa hilik, Katawang matamlay, Bibig na buhay. Kayod, kayod Madilim na Tag-lamig ** It's really cold in our new office. My hands are as white as alabaster. All this, and I have already donned a giant's jacket. Freaky, fever! Freaky, fever! 2 days to go! Received a call from my little fairy last night. Now he's in one of my links. He started making his own journal thanks to, ahem! ahem! Hehehe! Wish you could tell me more about your life in Korea and my being your plan B. *wink* *wink* I was viewing ghost_tree's site. And he told me that most of the time, he babbles about sex when he has nothing to talk about. I guess, I have to agree with you. It's one of the easiest topics. But sexuality is a very fragile topic. I just leave that area to your mallet and mind, Dino. 'Too scary to thread into. If guys were art, they would be pornografitti. Just look at my friend's journal. Dino says that he has changed over the months and he's more pornstar now (if there is such an adjective). Is ghost_tree more pornstar? Debate it yourselves. Visit his site. Lowered my handling time today. But why am I not excited?! I got a call from a guy earlier and he was all teary eyed (not that I could see him to verify); his voice was trembling and he kept on saying, "I'm sorry", with all its pitiful glory. He was just going through a divorce and his kids were no longer with him. Poor guy. All this and he was still trying to manage all his accounts. Of course, I was into my all-empathic self, trying to console him while cajoling for a renewal (evil, is just a point of view ). I'm glad I'm still single. Marriage is such a complex thing. Am I just saying this coz I'm afraid of commitment? My fairy godmother is gonna get married on June. He's trying to work out everything so that he won't get any problems with the legal papers (green card and everything) -- he's marrying a Korean angel (just view his gallery on his site). Anyway, he talks about it, as if its just a small thing; saying divorce is always there if it doesn't work out. But what if you can't get divorced? What if you've burried yourself in quicksand and you just keep on sinking? I really don't know. I found content but it is such a different word from marriage. And what is marriage? It's just a piece of paper. Have I found love? Yes. I've found love. It came by my window once and I immediately got up to open the door for my welcome guest. note: try to read my entry Fallen dated 01/18/04 Let's leave that thought for the crows, shall we? I'm going home. I'll try to write something later. Bye, bye lucid dreamer...

Further Adventures Of Cinderella
Posted at 07:34 AM

8 more years would not have made her blasé. The prince turned out to be a gentleman afterall. Breakfast in bed, milk baths, lovemaking all night, the works. The castle even brought out certain things from Cindy, she didn’t even thought was there in the first place. The chambermaids were talking. “Did you hear them moaning last night?” “Who wouldn’t. Their voices kept resonating across the stone walls.” “I heard that the Princess could match the Prince’s kinky splendor. All the others could not live up to the challenge.” “Ditto!” Loud cackling. Sunrise. “Sausages and eggs for my champion.” “And afterwards, I’ll give you your milk bath.” “I can’t wait.” Moaning across the stone walls. ** This piece is shorter as compared to my last 02/13/04 entry. Less characters. More action (go figure). More in the preceding entries... Love Has claimed Me Again I'm singing Take Me Away by Lifehouse, in deep contemplation and anticipation for the preceding day. I'll be with my vampire love tomorrow, celebrating my birth and celebrating the day Love claimed us for his pleasure. I can hear Eros’ silent smile, his lips curving as his mother, Venus nods in approval. In love nanaman si Cristeta Kalabasa. I’ve been catching myself morph from blank expressions to curving smiles to blank expressions to curving smiles all day. Questioning look. Take Me Away Lifehouse this time what I want is you there is no one else who can take your place this time you burn me with your eyes you see past all the lies you take it all away I've seen it all it was never enough it keeps leaving me needing you take me away take me away I've got nothing left to say just take me away I try to make my way to you but still I feel so lost I don't know what else I can do cause I've seen it all it was never enough it keeps leaving me needing you take me away take me away I've got nothing left to say just take me away don't give up on me yet don't forget who I am I know I'm not there yet but don't let me stay here alone I've seen it all and it's never enough it keeps leaving me needing you I've seen enough and it's never enough it keeps leaving me needing you take me away take me away I've got nothing left to say just take me away take me away take me away Trip To My Tooth Fairy Meeting Daddy later. Dentist for yearly prophylaxis. Until then, eager imps... take me away take me away I've got nothing left to say just take me away take me away take me away

Lifehouse's Take Me Away

Blessed Be
Posted at 03:05 PM

Is this is what death feels?
These clear plastic tubes in my mouth.
These needles swelling in my veins.
Is this what death feels?
What am i doing here?
Here, at death's door,
Among death's club.
*Beep* *Beep*
Who will be next?
Will it be the pallid face in front of me? Will it be the sleeping beauty beside me? Or will it be this racked body, Pointlessly flailing its arms to call for a woman in white?
A wheeze.
A gasp.
Blessed silence.
I'm a year older. Should I be happy? I don't really know. Brown adonis kept asking me why I wore the forlorn face. "No reason in particular." Lies. I didn't really know. Sigh!
Pretty, pretty little face.
China doll skin.
Sad, sad little orbs -- mirrors of liquid images ... trickling, rolling down the aquamarine carpets of the majestic rubix cube.
Lips open to mouth something.
Only, no words were heard.

Karma
Posted at 07:51 AM

Your past life diagnosis:
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I don't know how you feel about it, but you were female in your last earthly incarnation. You were born somewhere in the territory of modern Mexico around the year 1200. Your profession was that of a dancer, singer or actor.
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Your brief psychological profile in your past life: You had the mind of a scientist, always seeking new explanations. Your environment often misunderstood you, but respected your knowledge.
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The lesson that your last past life brought to your present incarnation: Magic is everywhere around you, even in the most usual, most ordinary situations. Your lesson is to understand this magic and to help other people to see it, too. You are a magician!
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Find out your own past life diagnosis. Click here. Well, I don't know about you, but I still feel like a small fish in the ocean. The world is too vast, too complicated to rationalize and entwine with logic. Even if we try to explain, dissert an intricate detail, it would always lead to further questioning.


Anne Rice's Merrick Tori Amos' Hey Jupiter