The Greatest Story Never Told
Posted at 12:41 PM

One of the best sites I viewed so far. Be inspired. View the work you think best fits your personality. I like movie #12. the greatest story never told Note: best viewed with the sounds on

Upos
Posted at 12:18 PM

Hitit. Buga. Isang manipis na usok na pumapabalot sa isang madilim na karimlan. Unti-unti, tinatangay ng malambing na ihip ng amang hangin. Maya-maya pa ay lumilinaw na ito; sing-linaw ng malamig na likido sa batis. Dalawang taon. Dalawang timba ng upos na pangarap at abong naka-uubo. "Kinalabit ka na ng Diyos. Tigilan mo na raw yan." Hitit. Buga. Ang pag-tapos sa isang napakatamis na kagawian ay isang batong ipinukol ng walang pasabi, malupit na hampas ng bagwis, isang kagulat-gulat na kaganapan. "Gusto mo bang tapusin ng maaga ang hiningang pilit na nilalagot ng walang-awang pag-simsim ng ponebre?" "Siyempre naman, ayaw ko pa po." "Kung gayon, gawin mo ang pinapayo ko." Tila isang reynang isang usal pa lamang ay sinagot na sa kanyang pagsambit ng unang kataga. Tapos na. ** Pinipilit tumigil sa paninigarilyo. At kung kailan ang kalul'wang ito'y di pa natitinag sa isang anibersaryo ng isa nanamang paghitit, siya'y hinainan nanaman ng isang panibagong putahe -- niluto ng panahon at siyensya. Walang kasabihang, "maaga pa."

Night of Loons
Posted at 07:24 AM

The night is calm. Serenity was the name of the nocturnal starscape that cowered over jubilant imps; dancing, basking in the full moon's lunar arms which embraced them in such comfort. The shining sea is moving, ever so gently with infinite patience. Bacchus, effervescent wine god was jumping up in glee. Pan was gently blowing on his wooden pipes, reeds made of magic and dreams. The Naiads, daughter's of the sea were silently watching, both in envy and delight as the godlings on the briny floor were dancing amuck, bonfires lit and chalices raised and filled to the brim. I was the ever watchful muse of their songs that blue eve. Sirens, half-women, half-fish, singing their affirmation. Trees bowed and swayed in accompaniment with the waves lapping in the shore and then receding back again into Amphitirite's womb, only to be regurgitated back to where it came from. An hour after the merriment, this little nymph is exhausted and decides to walk towards her retreat. She kisses her godling. Lips ruby and bleeding. Christ's last wounds were not on the cross.

Anne Rice's Blood Canticle A Perfect Circle's Three Libras

Seasons
Posted at 08:58 AM

Holy Thursday. A gray day. Not really. It was a black and white kind of day. The trip to Quezon was warm comfort -- a much needed release for this weary witch. Let me unravel a few details about the trip. I know that as much as I want to be discreet, my addiction to share my little stories is too much to contain. No, I am not forced to disclose my little pleasures. I am resolved to embrace it and part their sweet endings with you (if there is indeed an end to their sweet rapture). And so, indulge... The road was a constant swerve to the left and swerve to the right. Smooth and languid, the master behind the wheel knew his forte'. We made several stops to the gasoline station to quench the gray Lancer of its thirst. Occasionally, we would halt just so King Z would be able to suffer his burning for majestic sights, large trouts along the barriotic sidewalks, and fantasies of fishing and lore. I would just stay inside the metal steed as everyone got off to bask in the sun. Whoever said getting scorched is fun? Not my cup of tea, thanks! I just slumped and curled into a cocoon as I went on to hibernate through the trip. The brat would utter my name in an interrogating tone but I was already engulfed by the most pleasurable sleep. Imagine, moving vehicle, drowsy sun's rays, amber tinted glasses that lull you to happy land. Go figure. Several stops to purchase block ice and heart shaped mangos; we were off to thread the land of rebels and provincial virginity. My brat prince kept twisting his head left and right to avoid getting a stiff neck from driving the 5-hour journey. He's been having a terrible cold. Poor, baby. El paradiso, at last. The sun was tamer but would still burn Lestat's alabaster skin. The room we've reserved was a bit smaller than the last time we came for a vacation. Good thing, a few folks decided to go home that night. We were able to partake of the joys of air-conditioning. I still wonder how a dozen leisure lads and lasses managed to fit inside one room. Oh, I almost forgot. Kuya Dinky brought a tent and an airbed. Forgetfulness managed to seep in. Tsk! I slept beside the fairy prince to nurse him of his now aggravated cold, which has turned into flu. I kept waking up due to his wheezing and sneezing. But, there's nothing that can match menthol touch therapy and lavender and chamomile massage. The gentle giant finally slept and there was no need to chop off the beanstalk. Morning. Black and white has faded. A glint of color shows through the seashore panorama.

Blood Canticle by Anne Rice Seasons by Chris Cornell

Fire Starter
Posted at 09:51 AM

The office smells like burnt caramel, thanks to moi. Rico and I have been having our little lunchtime chats and i forgot to turn off the microwave. I was heating my pizza over a non-microwaveable plate & the heat just melted a hole in its very center. Oh, well. At least I won't get sued for arson. Hehehe! Momnets Later: This is what happens when I'm bored. I've been warming this cushion seat too long.                                
                                          
I adopted a cute lil' death fetus from Fetusmart! Hooray fetus!

Lunes
Posted at 10:07 AM

Nagalit ang munting demonyo. Sinunog ang bahay ko. Iyak ako ng iyak buong linggo habang siya naman ay nagpapakasasa sa kanyang kastilyong apoy. Sumbat at pananaghoy mula sa mga labi ng madilim na tag-lamig. Sinubukan kong umusal. Nanigas ang aking dila. Pinutol nya ng kutsilyo. Ginisa sa sili at asukal na pula. "Pasensya ka!" "Ginusto mong maging reyna ng aking daigdig." "Magdusa ka." Malakas na halakhak. Habang ang mga kampon ay nagsasayawan sa saliw ng musikang rock and roll, may mga luhang pumapatak -- likidong sing-init ng yelo. Unti-unting tumataas ang tubig, tumatagas sa mga bubong na singlulutong ng kropek. "Hindi ako marunong lumangoy!" Pananagwis. Tili. Iyakan. Katahimikan. * Sometimes, people can be jerks.

still, Anne Rice's Blood Canticle Professional Widow by Tori Amos

Take Me Away
Posted at 11:47 AM

I need to go back into the darkness now; where silence is not an option, where the horizon is soiled with questions and answers, too bleak to decipher -- where disdain ends and hope begins. Slowly, threading towards the unknown with but the clothes on my back and the whispered urgings of the wind, I tried to revisit "that moment". Whispering muffled yearnings, craving like a woman stretched open on the brink of orgasm. A whimper. A shard of glass burst into a million splinters. Always, the answers lie beyond, where we can only gaze as far as our eyes could take us -- to where the sun touches the earth; but never to where those two places are, distinctively. Always, we try to clamor, hold fast to that which we hold dear (things that we cherish, for it's the only treasure we know); but suffer to our demise, for we can only arrive at a thought as far as our mind can reach. Always our ears are locked in battle; trying to mute what is real because we only want to hear lies that have always been pleasing, always been kind to us, always been empathic to our cause. Lies, sparer of the heart and bruised ego, and weary spirit. Our senses deceive us, but no matter. We are one with our dreams built on melancholy and defeat -- we are lucid and drunk with despair. My mind remembers that distinctive scent. The aroma of love lost and the thought of "what if". I’ve been to hell and back on the most objectively benign course, and upon return and convalescence, the regret for not sending postcards tugs at me daily. It’s never enough, the happiness or the ache, always one or the other beckons, pulling me offstage and out of the blinding spotlight. Happiness forgets to be objective. It leaves me confused as to whether happiness is feeling satiety or feeling a smile curve on my face. Which is which? A fullness felt along with torment and demise or the latter which is fleeting and intangible? I need to go back into the darkness again, because that’s where it all makes sense, wanting and waiting and the craving for "almost-is". I need to go back because that’s where you are, and where you are is where I find myself. I want to make sense again, sense of this, sense of me. I want to miss that thing that I’ll never have, because wanting brings life back. Almost being what I almost was, I have to go back to be whole. Take me away. 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 (chorus) 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 (Repeat chorus) 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 (Repeat chorus) Take me away Take me away

(Still) Blood Canticle by Anne Rice Take Me Away by Life House

To Guitar God
Posted at 09:06 AM

I finally found a site that provides lyrics for songs that are hard to find. My golden god and I have been singing this song ang filling the void with ineffable words instead. Here's the real lyrics for the song, my love. We'll be able to sing it the right way, next time. Hail!
Rain
by Harem Scarem
I feared the notion -
I'd fall at your feet
And pour out my heart
and you'll leave forever
Severe emotions
and dark memories
Theey all end the same -
a nosedive endeavor
But angels did fly
and flooded boats sailed
To rescue my heart
and pull out every nail
Things don't seem right
since I've fallen
I'm falling like rain
for everything about you
I find myself chained -
thinking I'm coming loose
It's everything about you
A deep devotion has washed on our sands
Took hold of our hands
and guides us forever
Holy water that some of us brave
They're poetic slaves -
drowned by their conscience
Angels did fly -
the loneliness fails
To capture my heart
and push in every nail
Things turn out right since I've fallen

Visit http://www.sing365.com for your own songs We are having our section batch '97 reunion on Friday. 'Been calling favors all week and asking for confirmations from members. Tough job. Whew! Hope everything goes well and here's crossing my fingers to him, not ruining the day.

Pugad
Posted at 12:13 PM

Ahh, kay ganda ng umaga! Panibagong araw at panibagong yugto sa aking buhay. Panibagong araw. Panibagong simula. Ang mga dating tinamong sugat ay naghilom na. Kaya’t heto, handa nanamang makipagsapalaran sa malupit at masayang mundo ng pag-ibig. Isang matamis na huni mula sa bibig na sing-pula ng apoy. Ako ay dahan-dahang lumapit. Isang batis na kumikintab. Isa ba itong aparisyon? Isang kumunoy na hahatakin ang aking nalalabing pag-asa? Isa ba itong ipu-ipong hihigop sa aking munting tinig – garalgal na sa kahihingi ng saklolo? Ako ba ay tatalon? “Bahala na.” Tumalon ang pusong puno ng kahibangan. Umindak sa saliw ng musikang puno ng pangako, ng pagpupunyagi. Sinundan ang daang nilagum-lagom sa pamamgitan ng pira-pirasong alaala. Nasaan na ba ako?

(Still) Blood Canticle by Anne Rice Love Is Only A Feeling by The Darkness

Subic
Posted at 07:36 AM

Sana manalo ako sa lotto. Napakahirap magpayaman. Kayod ka ng kayod, umaga hanggang gabi; pero wala pa rin. Sadyang malupit ang tadhana. Iniwan na ang kaluluwang ito sa kanyang kaawa-awang kinasasadlakan. "Nakakainis naman ang mga magulang ng mga bata dito sa Subic. Kaya nagkakaroon ng maraming sakit ang mga itang yan dahil pinababayaan nilang mag-paa ang mga anak nila. Pati mga kamay, ang dudumi". "Ganyan talaga, ate. Wala na tayong magagawa". "Bakit"? Tanong na may halong pananabik at pang-iinsulto. "Kasi hindi naman sila mayaman". "Tayo, hindi naman tayo ganyan, ah! Bakit, mayaman ba tayo"? "Well-off"! Sinambit ng walang kagatul-gatol. Tawa ako ng tawa. Maririnig mo ang mga hagikgik at halakhak sa loob ng lumang fx habang ito ay dahan-dahang umuusad paalis ng Px, isang grocery sa Subic. Kakatwa man ang tinuran ng bunsong kapatid, di maalis sa aking isipan na totoo ang kanyang sinambit, bata man at kulang sa gulang. Ang mga tao dito, kapos sa salapi, kapos sa pagkain; ay mas abala pa sa mas importanteng bagay. Kabaliktaran ng aking minsang inisip may mas importante pang mga bagay na dapat isaalang-alang -- ang may masilungan sa panahong walang alinlangangang lumuluha ang langit, tila saksi sa kanilang paghihinagpis; ang maka-subo ng kahit na ilang butil ng kanin sa isang buong araw na kumakalam ang sikmura, sumisigaw ng saklolo; ang makalanghap ng sariwang hangin, malayo sa mahinang bagang kulob ng usok mula sa mga tambutsong umuubo sa kanilang mga mukha, tila dura sa pagkatao, isang huling insulto. Tama si bunso. Kagulat-gulat. Pero mali ako. Sana manalo ako sa lotto. Magpapamudmod ako ng salapi at pag-asa sa mga taong ito. Napakahirap magpayaman. Kayod ka ng kayod, umaga hanggang gabi; pero wala pa rin. Sadyang malupit ang tadhana. Iniwan na ang kaluluwang ito sa kanyang kaawa-awang kinasasadlakan. Sana, umulan ng pera.

Welcome Weary Traveller
Posted at 10:20 AM

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.

Join me as I battle my nemesis, melancholy with my philosophies and unaltered passions. I still have much creativity and inspiration to share, and I hope my words, my nightmares, and my ephemeral illusions will allow you to relate. Perhaps something will linger with you ... even if it's just briefly.

And so, let’s hear you rant & rave. Know me better, visit 100 Oceans, sign my guestbook, make a comment, or 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, anger, folly, and bliss.

Until then…

Posted at 12:14 PM

Classic rock! Without you the other genres
wouldn't exist! You are the raw and original
sound of rock! Other genres may try to imitate
your rawness, but they can never be like you!

What genre of rock are you?
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