Horniness & A Book
Posted at 10:15 AM

Yesterday, Adonis and I were musing about a particular beauty product. Its name; Beauty Host, clean out horniness whitening! "Who the heck wants to clean out horniness?!" An argument, me and my latest doppelganger agreed on.
=============================
I've been rousing myself in wee hours of the night just to page through my latest venture. I've been consuming this book like a squalor who hasn't tasted a good read in years (except for my Anne Rice novels, of course). I'm half through Wylde's Portrait of Dorian Gray. The author uses social insights and his philosophical ardor to reciprocate life as he sees it. My kind of literature! I plan to egage fully and hopefully finish every wedlock of syllable and lore and buy myself another fascination magnet by the end of the week. =============================
Bakit ganun? I can't stop thinking about Brad Pitt?! It seems that although I was too oblivious to see this ethereal paradox's beauty before, it is only now that he has managed to capture this little girl's fancy. Can you not picture him say,"It's alright. You gave me peace in a lifetime of war" or utter these fleeting words, "The gods envy us because we are mortal. You can never be more beautiful than you are today." Sigh! Sigh! Sigh! Why did he have to play Achilles in that darn movie! Can guys be this romantic in real life? ... Sometimes.
"The Reason"
by Hoobastank
I'm not a perfect person
There's many things
I wish I didn't do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know
I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you
I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with everyday
And all the pain I put you through
I wish that I could take it all away
And be the one who catches all your tears
Thats why i need you to hear
I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is You [x4]
I'm not a perfect person
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know
I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new and the reason is you
I've found a reason to show
A side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you ================================================ It's the end of my shift. Can't wait to throw myself to bed and doze the rest of the afternoon off.

Miss Feat
Posted at 07:58 AM

I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good. Yawn! It's a Sunday and I'm stuck in the office. Nothing to do but study html coding, as what was suggested by my dearest. As you may have noticed, the header has already changed into my original title. The separation line for each entry has also changed into a gothic bar. Much appreciation to Demigod and photoshop. Thanks, master mentor! ================================================ I watched Harry Potter The Prisoner of Azkaban last Friday with demigod and his family. The movie was okay. I just wish I didn't read the book before watching it (read and finished the book in just one night). It makes everything too easy. My kindling got himself hooked on the fad, though. We drove to the bookstore just to get himself a copy of Goblet of Fire, Rowling's 4th book. I can't blame him. The scarred hero got this sprite indulging on the craze a few years back upon consuming the first book of this wondrous sensation. I still stand by my argument though. Let's leave the kiddie books for the kids. *evil grin* I left my Dorian Gray at his place. Sigh! I was already past the climax. Tsk! When we went to the bookshop yesterday, I saw a compilation of novels by Russian writers. Tolstoi, Dostoyevskii, Gogol... The list is endless. It's too bad we had to indulge on that little pleasure of his first. I'll have to buy those books another day. I'm glad I'm with a witty boyfriend. I never had a mortal idiot for one. Well, actually I did. Once. That's why I cut the relationship short. I mean, wouldn't you?! I don't mean to be cruel but that's the way I am. I'm a bitch. Who cares? At least someone out there is making a fanfare out of it. ================================================ Aargh! Work is such a boring circus! On Monday, I'll be musing in front of my computer while all the kiddies prance grimly towards Med school. Ha-ha! Mischief Managed!

back to Rice's Blood Canticle Dishwalla's Somewhere in the Middle

Ice Blog
Posted at 10:22 AM

It's official. I'm a living specimen, preserved by the office air-conditioning unit. Brrr! Boredom Idleness has become my lifestory today. Argh! Argh! Argh! ================================================ Expecto Patronum! *poof* An ethereal figure floats towards me. It appears to have horns and is smiling gibberishly. No, it's not Prongs. It's just dark Adonis, frantically setting up his tools before he logs in late again. Hehehe! ================================================
A-Z questions... A - Art - I was always serious when it comes to my art. But apparently, not serious enough to pursue it as a living. B - Blanket - My latest buy. A blues clues blankie! C - Chocolates - Uttered in Homer Simpson's lulled voice. Ultimate addiction! D - Dream Theater - Best band ever! E - Earth - I'm glad I'm almost always 99% rooted to the ground. F - Friends - Reason for my sanity, almost all the time. G - Golden God - Poetry beyond words. H - Heavy-Metal Magazine - I collect these little pleasures, especially the ones done by Luis Royo. I - Immortality - The self transcends once it reaches its goal. J - Jest -I accept compliments in jest only because I'm lousy at accepting them. Sorry. K- Kids - I'm quite fond of 'em. Just don't give me the bratty ones. L - Lurkr - A mortal idiot who doesn't know shit in mIrc. M - Music - Progressive, Old School Rock, Blues N - Numbers - So long as we're talking about the flip of a crisp bill or the tingle of coins in the pocket, just gimme, gimme, gimme! O - Orgasm - My world will end with an orgasm and not with a whimper. I always make it a point to end with a bang. P - Power - And who doesn't like this word? Q - Quiz - Long, short, pop. The thing that I dread most in Med School. R - Reason - I think I've found mine. S - Shit - I know my own shit like I know what's left and right. T - Time - Infinite. We have lots of that. U - Ubiquitous - I dunno, but that word kinda' stuck to me because of a topic in Microbiology pertaining to Fungus. Yuck! V - Victor - I will always emerge victor in my own fairytales. And so, I dream. W - Worst habit - "Did I tell you that...Oh, yeah! I already told you." X - X - A good friend back in College. Y - You - My obsession. Of course this pertains to my match, my equal, demigod. No one else. Z - Zarate - My Dad's middle name. It's Spanish. Ganito ang ginagawa ng mga batang walang magawa. Hehehe! Alam ko na kung bakit nagreresign na ang karamihan sa aking mga ka-batch. Nawalan kasi ng YM. Wehehehe! Shit! I'm bored! Let's go out and frolick in the rain! ================================================ Lord, please don't give me any moronic jesters today. Walang makulit na callers, please lang! Hmp! Mga htpp. ** Word of the Day: htpp - huwag tularan, pwedeng patulan

Aphrodite
Posted at 07:49 AM

At about 1:10 pm, we will be witnesses to the flirtatious passing of the Love Goddess across the infinite skyscape above. Transits of Venus across the disk of the Sun are among the rarest of planetary alignments. Only six such events have occurred since the invention of the telescope (1631, 1639, 1761, 1769, 1874 and 1882). The next two transits of Venus will occur today, 2004 June 08 and on 2012 June 06. The mortals below are in much glee and abandon. To see Aphrodite is to witness a star that has just passed by in fleeting moments across the face of the earth. Sweet goddess, I know you won't disappoint us. ================================================
To Harry Potter Addicts: Here are links to hints on what might happen in J. K. Rowling's Book 6 & Book 7. Enjoy! ================================================ Friends: I removed the comments tab on by blog because I still have to configure its compatibility with the layout. A thousand apologies. I still have my tagboard, though. So with regards to any extravagant protests or blatant praises, just tag me. I hope you all like the new layout. Feast your eyes on my Mindless Ramblings. This is your obsession, your anathema.

Blood Canticle Pulling Me under by Dream Theater

The Cracked Pot
Posted at 07:33 AM

I'm munching on Hapi House, a biscuit, care of Jacob. Thanks, man! I remember nibbling on these goodies when I was a kid. Some of my other favorites were Choco Boy and Marie. Hehehe! *Reminisce* *Reminisce* Earlier this morning, I heard Ytse Jam by Dream Theater resonating from my mobile phone. Someone was calling me in that friggin' hour. 2am! "Will to power! will to power!", I heard myself say. I got up and answered a ghost call. Damn, pranksters! Snooze. ================================================ Check out google. They have Venus on their logo in celebration of yesterday's transit. This is what I like about google. A plethora of ideas. So cute. ================================================ Grand Essentials of Happiness: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for ================================================
I was talking to my cousin on the phone yesterday. She saw my sister in Robinson's Ermita while the latter was getting documents from UP Manila. My sister was with a recent suitor and was telling the former of how she wanted to enjoy her singlehood first before diving into another relationship. My cousin, sexygoddess is a Medicine graduate who only needs to take the boards before becoming a licensed doctor. Currently, she is contemplating on her current state of loneliness and debating the idea of men being jerks. Often, she feels that time has become her nemesis and love has become oblivious to her because of this. She feels sorry for her past undertakings with regards to love, and says that she is proud that my sibling is taking one step at a time in finding her own happiness. She is often in search of her one true love, but fate seems to have other plans for this fair beauty. I managed to stumble upon this short story, blood sister. I hope you'll welcome this little inspiration and name it yours one of these days.
The Cracked Pot
A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on the end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots was perfectly made and never leaked. The other pot had a crack in it and by the time the water bearer reached his master's house it had leaked much of it's water and was only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water to his master's house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you." "Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?" "I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said. The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, "As we return to the master's house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path." Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some. But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again the pot apologized to the bearer for its failure. The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of your path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you've watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house." Each of us has our own unique flaws. We're all cracked pots. But if we will allow it, God will use our flaws to grace his table. In God's great economy, nothing goes to waste. Don't be afraid of your flaws. Acknowledge them, and you too can be the cause of beauty. Know that in our weakness we find our strength. Don't regret any decisions that you've made in the past for these steps you took are responsible for whatever you are today. A stronger person who knows how to love.

Fading Out
Posted at 06:13 AM

A choir of lonely voices have called upon my ship to port. How old has the voyage been? As old as woe? As old as bliss? Longer, I think. Then again, I do not really know.

Allies
Posted at 09:52 AM

I went to Glorietta yesterday. Roamed the mall for an hour to render myself too tired to think, when I got home. I went to A Different Bookstore -- a really different bookstore! I paged from the crispy leaves of Oscar Wilde's entrancing poetry, to the thick canvas-like parchment of Neruda's Ode to Common Things. I was easily amused by synopses of Napoleon's exciting conquests, Poe's tragic end ;and consumed by the fire stoked by my fascination with The Third Reich. Ah, books and I will always remain friends! Far better friends than what some acquaintances and I are, right now. Reading a piece of literature for the first time is a virgin's kiss. It lingers forever. If only this is also immortalized for alliances forged. Sometimes, a person's memory is blurred as quickly as a name escapes his lips. ================================================ Our yearbook is finished at last. Yipee! I might go to Vermont Place one of these days to get my copy from Wanch. Great job, Yearbook Committee! ================================================ I've not-so-secretly promised myself to be in pursuit of my own happiness, always. In that way, I have no other person to blame in the end but myself. Pride has never won me anything over. And so let me just wave the white flag gracefully as I say, "You win. But you still owe me an apology." LSS: The Reason by Hoobastank i'm not a perfect person there are many things i wish i didn't do but i continue learning. i never meant to do those things to you. and so i have to say before i go, that i just want you to know i've found a reason for me, to change who i used to be a reason to start over new, and the reason is you i'm sorry that i hurt you, its something i must live with everyday and all the pain i put you through, i wish that i could take it all away and be the one who catches all your tears, thats why i need you to hear i've found a reason for me, to change who i used to be a reason to start over new, and the reason is you i'm not a perfect person, i never meant to do those things to you and so i have to say before i go that i just want you to know i've found a reason for me, to change who i used to be a reason to start over new, and the reason is you i've found a reason to show a side of me you didnt know a reason for all that i do, and the reason is you

Things Could Be Better
Posted at 09:33 AM

Aaarghhh! The lights! Turn off the f**ckin' lights! I'm sick as a dog. Sniff! Walang istorbo ngayon! Just me, my trusty kumot and my dear, Dorian.

Oscar Wilde's Dorian Gray

Achoo!
Posted at 04:56 AM

Great News For Yahoo Users As of June 15, the following changes were applied to your accounts: - Increased storage capacity – from your current level to 100MB. In your face, Spymac!!! Hehehe! - Increase in total message size to 10MB. Now you can forward those sleazy porn pics you're too shy to bring in the office. Oh, you can also forward the not so sleazy ones without the hassle of over-quota attachments. - A streamlined interface that's even easier to use. They even changed the motif to cobalt blue. Wicked! ================================================ It's official. It's approximately 5:30 AM, June 16, 2004, Wednesday, and I'm living the fairytale, The Princess and the Mute or playing the part of The Voiceless Wonder. *croak* My cold will be turning into cough anytime soon. All the ascorbic acid I've been taking in did not do much to help this mollified maiden. I need stronger stuff. Prolly kispirin or yakapsul. Tomorrow, perhaps. ================================================
Lt. Marge left a book in our shared station. I was trying to borrow her stuff from Pandora's Box when I noticed a hard bound parchment on the lateral side of the pc. 45 Master Characters by Victoria Lynn Schmidt. Hmmm. *browse* *browse* How could anyone enjoy this book? Let me try to quote a few lines... On second thought, let me not. Let me just say that the book is about mythic models for creating original characters. It's describing characters in movies and tales for dummies. No offense, Marge. It's a good coffee table book but not a readable read for idle times. Ganyan talaga kapag wala kang magawa. You read books, even you could write. It's crazy, how these authors receive much commendation for works that are equally uncommendable. They even charge $$$ *boing* *boing* *boing* (sound of cash registrars) for their piece of lit. No wonder this generation's minds are turning to swill. Tsk! In fairness, maybe Miss T is trying to make a study on the blooming hope for Psycho Ward Outpatients turned famous authors. Hehehe! I know Schmidt fanatics are gonna hack me for this. But hey, just read my gif.

Bigfish is a great movie that combines Forrest Gump's wit and imagination with American Beauty's screenplay genius and humor. I can't remember ever hearing it being played in the movies but who am I to talk? I rarely watch movies; not since Troy and Harry Potter 3 appeared on the big screen.

Dorian

Telephone
Posted at 10:49 AM

Telephones and telephone bells have always made me wary. Years ago, when they were mostly wall fixtures, I looked upon them with disdain. But nowadays, when they are rooted in every nook and corner, they are downright intrusion. We have a saying in the Philippines that “Pedro is master in his own house”; with the telephone that is no longer true, and I suspect that even the Englishman is no longer king in his own castle. At the office, the sudden beep of the callmaster annoys me. It means that, no matter what I am doing, in spite of the switchboard operator, in spite of the agent idling beside me, in spite of doors and walls, some unknown person is coming into the room and onto my desk to talk right into my very ear, confidentially – and that is whether I like it or not. At home, the feeling is still more irritating, but the worst is when the telephone rings in the dead of the night. If anyone could see me turn on the light and get up blinking to answer it, I suppose I would look like any other sleepy person annoyed at being disturbed. Perturbed, even. The truth in such a case, however, is that I am tormented by panic, fighting down a feeling that an intruder has broken into the house and is in my bedchamber. By the time I manage to grab the receiver and say: “Hello, who’s on the line? Speak,” I am outwardly placid, but I only return to a more normal state when I'm able to discern the voice at the other end and when I know what is wanted of me. This effort at dominating a purely animal reaction and sense of foreboding had become so effective that when my brother called two years ago at four in the morning, asking me to come over, but first to tell mom that he had crashed the red Lancer in an Acacia tree by the island in Mindanao Avenue, I just calmly asked him how and why he crashed the faithful car without any hint of disquietude. “I can’t explain everything over the phone. Just come on over. I think my head is bleeding!” Have you ever tried explaining to a sleepy woman that her son just had an accident and he killed an Acacia tree in the process? I repeated my explanation, and she was as disconcerted as ever. My brother got a few stitches but I still can’t forget the way the faithful White looked, crashed onto a gnarled old tree, windows smashed to splinters and hood crunched like a soda can. The Acacia tree is still alive, by the way. The car had an overhaul and is now called the faithful Red , and my older brother has been stitched and sober since. *Ring**Ring* As I was saying, telephones and telephone bells have always made me wary. Years ago, when they were mostly wall fixtures, I looked upon them with disdain. But nowadays, when they are rooted in every nook and corner, they are downright intrusion. "Hi, my name is Cris, can I have you domain name please." **Saw my favorite teacher back in High School yesterday. He already finished his French Masters in UP and was as cool as ever. My two great inspirations: mom, for my wanton yearning and lust to understand the English language better and make use of it in its fullest splendor; and Arnel Canaveral, my English teacher in Quezon City Science High School, for showing me the infinite possibilities when it comes to literature. ** Finished Dorian Gray at last! I'm ready for my latest obsession.

Tori Amos' Winter

Daddy
Posted at 05:23 AM

Happy Father's Day, Dad!

sadly, i'm out of books to read.

Best Friend
Posted at 04:23 AM

Dearest #2,
I was reading Sara's letter six days ago. As I was trying to decipher her enthusiastic musings about changes over the summer, this beating mass came to a sudden stop. There was that news about you and a glaringly vivid and graphic description of a most heady event in your life. Immediately I tried to open a new browser and tried to tamper with the locks and view your ethereal photograph in friendster. You look really happy. She looks really happy -- the girl with the ineffable smile and infinite kindness. How could I hate her now? Forgive me for I am in too much strain. Past events in my own web, or some uninteresting event like the weather has deadened my senses for the moment. I am happy for you. And I will always remember when you sang this foreshadowing...
Everything by Lifehouse
Find me here
And speak to me
I want to feel you
I need to hear you
You are the light
That's leading me
To the place
Where I find peace again
Y'ou are the strength
That keeps me walking
You are the hope
That keeps me trusting
You are the life
To my soul
You are my purpose
You're everything
And how can I stand here with you
}And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be
Any better than this
You calm the storms
And you give me rest
You hold me in your hands
You won't let me fall
You steal my heart
And you take my breath away
Would you take me in
Would you take me deeper, now
And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be
Any better than this
And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be
Any better than this
Cause you're all I want
You're all I need
You're everything, everything
You're all I want
You're all I need
You're everything,
everything
You're all I want You're all I need
You're everything,
everything
You're all I want
You're all I need
Everything, everything...
When how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be
Any better than this
Oh And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be
Any better any better than this
And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be
Any better than this
Would you tell me how could it be
Any better than this...
*** Congrats! ***
To my other friends, I will always weep happy tears for you. ================================================
My Latest Recommendations: The Browning Version A Brit film based on a play by Terrence Rattigan. Starring Albert Finney, this film directed by Mike Figgis follows Andrew Crocker-Harris (Albert Finney), a once-brilliant, now cold and distant classical literature professor with a philandering wife (Greta Scacchi -- who by the way, looks very much like my mom when she was still single) and a mundane career at an English prep school. When Taplow, a dedicated student (Ben Silverstone) gives him a copy of Robert Browning's translation of Aeschylus's "Agamemnon," Andrew finds inspiration once again. The Secret Window Saw this movie last weekend. It's coming soon in movie theaters so i won't spoil it for you, movie brats. A story by the talented Stephen King, starred by the luscious Johnny Depp (ultimate dream god) is enough to make this film a must-see. If you're mad for thrillers, or just plain infatuated by the way Depp utters the lines below...

... this one's for you! ================================================ Brad Pitt, where are you?!

Dark Sky
Posted at 03:21 PM

There was a vast blue bowl. Across it, with agonizing slowness, there branched a brazen sun which poured down light to dazzle and burn out man’s eyes, and the heat to broil the brains in his skull. At intervals the blue bowl grew dark and was dotted with stars, which ranged themselves in pairs like the eyes of snakes – unwinking, cold and maliciously amused – and watched through the night while man recovered strength to endure the torture of another day. There was a sea with depths, fathoms below. It heaved slowly up and down and up and down and alternately reflected the blue bowl and the infinite aggregation of star eyes. Slowly it formed a rain cloud. And burst into a million orgasms. ================================================ It still hasn't stopped raining. Good. It would be nice to cocoon in bed when dusk comes. Romantic candles, sensual oils, little pleasures, forbidden indulgence. Hahaha!

The Wall
Posted at 03:26 PM

This is my own: my own feelings, emotions, thoughts, actions; they were no one else’s but mine. If anything else, just for that moment but mine nonetheless, and as John Muir would say, “…and nobody knows it but me.” No one will ever know how I felt as I set out on my own epic journey of discovery. The setting for my own personal odyssey would rival that of Homer’s. Granted there were no sirens serenading, nor a Cyclops to do battle with, just a wall. A wall that I had an obsession with ever since I saw it, although this obsession was restricted only to a certain space. Should I take the risk and grab this opportunity? They say that wall climbing gives you the ultimate high. Your senses, all numb; your hands, cold with excitement and sweat; body, wracked with pain and yet pleasure; and feelings of achievement and triumph. I’ve always wanted to make a climb of this great height in what else, but laughter and company. And so sleep, I tried to befriend so that I might be able to do the task I was to endure, conquer the next day – to make the climb, my very first. Late noon in Power Up, and everyone is awake. Not because we are getting ready to make our climb, but because somewhere thousands of feet above us, the wall seemed to go on endlessly. I tried to dissert this immensity. This wall. Its every crevice, every slope. I gazed upon its vastness and stood in stark awe as I imagined myself scaling every ascent and descent upon its great possibilities. Right then and there, I made a connection with its towering presence, its beauty. Why is it beautiful? Does it really make sense to try to distinguish beauty in the natural world? Does it really makes sense to attach relevance, meaning, to specific fleeting moments — a sunset, an avalanche, an ascent, a smile, a birth — to believe that they are somehow separable and more significant than the normal chaotic flow? Life itself makes no distinction. But of course we are creatures who inhabit finite life-bubbles, and somehow attaching relevance to certain events make us see that our lives are part of a deeper and more destined flow. It is part of the art of making life sacred, of making the world our own. After securing my lines I mounted the wall. It was not as hard as I initially thought. But halfway up, I started to feel the strain on my arms. Every sinew on my muscles seemed to be aching, screaming with agony, giving way and I have not even reached the top yet. Pain whispered its excuse at the back of my mind but pride urged me to hold on as I made a quick glimpse over my shoulder to see other climbers’ determined looks. How I marveled at this sight, at that very moment. Gladiators, they seemed, with their faces illuminating their determination, fear, and anxiety. Their arms, almost flailing, like mine as they set their duty on the next grip. Mouths, almost parched with thirst but uttering loud and faint grunts as they carried through with their ascent. As I continued on with my climb, I tried to conjure thoughts that would make this task seem like play. A climber then started babbling something about Spiderman and how the latter would have a run for his money had his weight fared worse that this tub of lard who was already sweating profusely as he tried with every effort to mouth his mind. I almost lost my grip and veered towards VJ, a friend of mine whom I’m sure, was faring no better than me and makes a quick “ I-know-what-you-mean-grin” before clambering to our scheduled task. Many feet further, I was still struggling to the top. My mind is clouded with thoughts of planting virtual kicks on the ass of whoever said wall climbing is fun, my strength was beginning to fail me, and I could scarcely feel my arms. Spider freak has already given up and I could no longer see VJ smiling. All was silent, save for a few gasps and grunts. Part of me admonishes myself to look up and imagine that I am almost there. But each time that I think I am nearing my goal, I am bogged down with fatigue, pain, and hopelessness. “Just a few more feet,” I whispered to myself and began to chant it mentally like a mantra. At last, I reached the top. I gazed down on the very spot where I first planted my feet and positioned myself for the climb. I stared at the others below. I was up there. And they were below. They stood and cheered me on silently with their smiles and admiring eyes. I was a star gazing over the fields where I wanted to cast my illumination – my little lessons. “It’s not easy as it looks, but it feels nothing like any other when you’re up here,” I shouted with humility but with much excitement. That moment was priceless, sacred. In the presence of the sacred, as in the presence of the mysterious, unpredictable climb to the wall, we find humility. And fear. And joy. The power, or the potency, of forces that transcend reason overwhelms our puny capacities for comprehension, and we experience the full range of human emotions. In the face of a slip, or a grip, or the quirky dangers of our everyday lives, the strongest of us are keenly aware that we can control only the flow of our life, and not our destiny. This awareness is not the kind of thing that our rational minds are comfortable with. Reason flees, and in the vacuum, that way of knowing that we call intuition emerges. Sometimes. Today, as I wrestle with the question of balancing risk and opportunity — it has been a time of unusually trying situations, and the “losing-one’s-grip-danger” is clearly high — I find myself lost in a labyrinth of possibilities and thoughts and fears, without any clear intuition, praying; if indeed there is one to pray for insight. "Do not let me hear Of the wisdom of old men, but rather of their folly, Their fear of fear and frenzy, their fear of possession, Of belonging to another, or to others, or to God. The only wisdom we can hope to acquire is the wisdom of humility: humility is endless." — T.S. Eliot ** This was a paper I wrote for wall climbing 2 years ago. ** Brad Pitt, where art thou?

Sulat
Posted at 06:45 AM

Dahan dahang binuksan ang sobre at tinanggal sa pagkakatiklop ang isang malutong na papel mula sa kanyang kinahihimlayan. Madiin ang pagkakasulat ng mga titik. Ang tinta ay tila kumalat sa gawing kanan ng naninilaw na papel. Pilit na inalala ang mga magagandang pangyayari ng nakaraan na nilagumlagom ng panahon at pagkakaibigan. Mariing idinikit ang medyo lukot na piraso ng alaala bago ito sinimulang samyuin. *buntong hininga* C, Kamusta ka na? Mabuti naman ako. Ni minsan ay hindi ka nawaglit sa aking isipan. Laman ka pa rin ng bawat pangungusap na aking sinasambit. Nabanggit mo sa iyong liham na alam mo na ang masayang balita. Oo. Masaya naman ako sa mga pangyayari. Wala akong pinagsisisihan. Siya ang nagdudulot ng ngiti sa aking mga labi araw-araw. Walang panahon na hindi siya dumadaan sa aking isipan. Naaalala ko lahat ng payo mo sa akin noon. Ang mabuti ay para sa mabuti. Dapat pala ay matagal na akong nakinig sa iyo. Salamat, C. Hindi kita malilimutan. ~ #2 *buntong hininga* Kung alam mo lang ang aking nais ipahiwatig noon. Ang mabuti ay para sa mabuti... ================================================ This is an email I got from a friend. Try to visit his site. I assure you that you won't regret it. hahaha! Darkwinter, Salamat sa pagbisita at pagsulat sa aking gbuk. Ako'y namangha sa sinulat mong tula. Magaling ang isip mo ay malikot at magala Salamat at nabusog ang iyong tiyan sa tuwa Buti na lang hindi ang utot ang bumuga. Ako'y dumapo at namasyal sa iyong lungga Makulimlim pero maganda ang iyong pahina Ngunit subalit sapagkat datapwat ako'y napatanga Kailangan ko palang bumili ng diksyunaryo sa mega O sige na nga, ako ay yayaon na at may pasok pa kami dito sa opisina Baka akoy makita ng amo kong hyena Masipa at baka ang trabaho ko'y mawala na. Regards, Batman_927

Idle Hands
Posted at 09:52 AM

Met up with Rida last Wednesday to give her points on writing loveletters. hahaha! Jealousy is not you, sis. Cut the guy some slack. It's drizzling profusely outside and I'm eating strawberry banana Mcflurry with 2 supervisors and 2 other colleagues. I miss my doppelganger. No one to sing me those cheezy medleys blaring from bus and jeepney radios. I swapped schedules with Franch so I'm covering the shift for him. Pasalubong ko from Hongkong, ha?! hehehe! It's been a very placid day, so far. No irritating mortal idiots to ruin my day. I've just installed a guest book to compensate for the comment tab which has been acting up for days now. See my first sticky entry, frailties link, or just click on the rose below the tagboard. I might be able to buy that 6600 by the end of the month. Hurray for me!*grins from ear to ear* Excited to end my shift and rest these weary lovelies. They've been open for too long. I need my beauty sleep. *winks* Will we be eating dinner later? Fading Out by Primitive Radio Gods A car moves slowly down the street Of a residential neighborhood The conversations at its peak But the static’s getting round and round You’re fading out, can’t hear what you say, you’re fading out, out, out, out The car pulls over to the curb A curtain moves behind a window You’re now completely out of range In the dark where all the voices go You’re fading out, can’t hear what you say, you’re fading out, out, out, out You’re fading out, can’t hear what you say, you’re fading out, out, out, out What did you say? What did you say? What did you say? What did you say? What did you say? On a highway outside town Another stranger keeps you company The batteries are running down I’m gonna loose you to the atmosphere You’re fading out, you’re fading out What did you say? You’re fading out, what did you say? You’re fading out You’re fading out, can’t hear what you say, you’re fading out, out, out, out What did you say? What did you say? What did you say? ... and she rested on the 5th day.

Under The Coffee Table
Posted at 05:12 AM

I have not written much lately. And I admonish myself to be up to it. Sorrow has become weary of frequenting this busy place. My escapades with misery and bereavement becomes less and less and there is almost nothing to feed this hungry heart. My generic ire and hatred for all the world and its stage has spun its final thread. And I am left with these boring platitudes to write with. Not that this much gaiety is poison, but I fear that this state of bliss is slowly causing a torrent in this throbbing heart. Tomorrow, my veins will dilate and this beating mass would go into diastole. My heart will rest, and it will travail in taking this unfathomable happinness to the grave. ================================================ Friends, Today, I was nominated in Philippine Blog Awards. I do not know what to make of it. I'm afraid that I am oblivious to any other emotion except amour. Nonetheless, I do invite you to view the site and wander through other mortals' ramblings and musings with fate. You can also vote for your best bet, while you're at it. ================================================ Yesterday, I was watching The Buzz. Yes, I'm a star buzzer too (meaning, jologs din po ako!). I had to switch channels several times because I was so irritated with Kris Aquino's hair bobbing and tossing before and after every comment. Argh! That girl. I only watch that channel to elope with abstruse conflict and take my mind off reality for a few minutes. But, alas! I would have to try and prance happily into dreamscape another time. I am roused to play "pawn" in the new president's court. I watched Balitang K yesterday and tried to go beyond GMA's bucktooth smile and hear her 10-point agenda. Okay naman. I just hope the hawks don't tear her down before she even walks the first step. ================================================ Latest News/Recommendations: Amazing Race Season 5 To Have Finale Here In The Philippines TV/Amazing Race Fans...buhay na naman tayo Local STUDIO 23 programs will tie-up with AMAZING RACE especially with the prominent role given the Philippines in the final 2 legs. BREAKFAST, WAZZUP and NEWS CENTRAL will likely carry updates with BREAKFAST carrying more collateral material as they become available. For reference, the pitstops are in the following areas: 1 Uruguay 2 Argentina 3 Argentina 4 Russia 5 Cairo, Egypt 6 Crocodile Island, Egypt 7 Tanzania, Africa 8 Dubai 9 Calcutta, India 10 Rotorua, New Zealand 11 Coconut Palace, Philippines 12 Lagon Island Resort, Philippines The teams [final 3] will clock in at 72,000 miles travelling through 6 continents in 29 days. The show has 100 Hollywood-based staff plus around 2,000 part-time staffers enlisted worldwide during the running of the race. Queer Eye For The Straight Guy Now here's a make-over show that would keep even guy's eyes glued to the television. Watch ETC Channel and prepare to be changed forever. They are the Fab 5: an elite team of gay men who have dedicated their lives to extolling the simple virtues of style, taste and class. Each week their mission is to transform a style-deficient and culture-deprived straight man from drab to fab in each of their respective categories: fashion, food and wine, interior design, grooming and culture. It's a full lifestyle make-over — a make better show where straight guys turn in their pleats for flat fronts, learn about wines that don’t come in a jug and come to understand why hand soap is not a good shampoo (and vice versa). When the journey is done, a freshly scrubbed, newly enlightened, ultra hip man emerges.
My favorite episode is Episode 107. Pink Festival Pink Festival na! Watch famous gay flicks now playing this week in UP Diliman. For schedules, just click on the link. Adonis recommends Eating Out directed by Quentin Brocka (Lino's nephew). It's scheduled to show this Tuesday and Saturday in UP Theater. ================================================ I'm posting this entry which has been emailed to our yahoogroups. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Decaf By April Umali YOU contributor I LOVE coffee. I love it so much that my mouth waters just hearing the word. I've gone from a secret sip from my dad's morning cup when I was three, to venti mocha fraps on Friday night-outs, to large doses of the good old "Batangas" brew that kept me awake for my thesis deadline. I love staring wide-eyed at my ceiling at two in the morning, unable to sleep because of the caffeine I gulped down instead of a decent dinner. Caffeine gives me instant exhilaration. The sweet aroma of a freshly brewed cup, the extra-hot tingle on the tongue, the fuzzy and giddy feeling I get from it. Just like being in love for the first time. And much like falling in love, after the caffeine wore out, I craved for more. But unlike before when the instant coffee in our cupboard was enough to make me happy, the next time I wanted frothé, and then I wanted fancy concoctions in cafés. I kept looking for the best place where I can get my coffee. And I was never satisfied. My coffee time turned from being just a morning routine into a social, emotional, spiritual experience. I drank coffee as I cried my heart out with my best friend right after the end of a four-year relationship. I drank coffee as I met new people, tried to be friends with them, and ended up ignoring their text messages. I drank coffee alone, while listening for God's voice in my heart, or thinking of life in general. I drank coffee to celebrate; I drank it too, to grieve. My college pals said I was 90 percent caffeine and 10 percent water. My mom, a nurse, always told me that too much caffeine is bad. And then one ordinary day, after downing my usual morning cup, I suddenly felt light-headed. Then my heart felt like it wanted to get out of my chest; it beat so violently I could see my shirt thumping. I perspired. My hands felt cold. I was nauseated. Apparently, I've had too much caffeine. My body started reacting negatively to it, and I trembled all over. After that, I couldn't drink my strong brew again. Only one solution left: decaf. I never wanted to try decaf. I felt it was the "weaker" kind of coffee, the type that equally "weak" people drank. And so I tried going caffeine-less for several days. But one day I just had to drink coffee, so I went to my favorite coffee shop. After placing my order, the guy behind the counter asked, "Decaf?" I froze. I never thought I would answer that question in the affirmative. I stared long enough before he repeated the question, "Decaf?" I finally said yes. I sat in my favorite spot: the farthest corner of the café. I did not want to drink. I should have ordered hot choco instead. I closed my eyes. I contemplated whether to drink my decaf or take it home to my brother. And then I heard God's voice. Faint, but distinct. I didn't hear it in my ears, but in my heart. My heart, which pounded fiercely from too much caffeine, fell into silence, as if straining to catch His every word. He said, "The true meaning of life is not being comfortable all the time. It is trusting that something good could come out of adversity. Like faith, it's holding on to things you do not see, and believing in things you do not know." I did not dare open my eyes. I wanted to listen more, to hear Him more. But He ceased to speak. And then I knew I just have to trust Him. That like caffeine, life can sometimes hurt us. We may be used to doing and having things our way, to letting our own will control us. And then we become addicted to the good life. We become blind to things that are beyond our own perspective. We become numb to feelings other than our own. But God sometimes breaks us because He has to be in control. We may have to try something very different to what we have become comfortable with. We may have to leave something behind, let go of someone, say goodbye to somebody. In the end, the God who might have broken our hearts, will also be the God who will heal and restore us. I know it sounds a bit crazy to compare coffee with life, and to equate drinking decaf to a leap of faith. But, well, that morning, in my little corner in the world, with a warm mug of decaf in my cupped hands, God spoke to me. Quietly but clearly. And my life was changed forever.

================================================ LSS: High And Dry by Radiohead Two jumps in a week, I bet you think that’s pretty clever don’t you boy. Flying on your motorcycle, watching all the ground beneath you drop. You’d kill yourself for recognition, kill yourself to never ever stop. You broke another mirror, you’re turning into something you are not. Don’t leave me high, don’t leave me dry Don’t leave me high, don’t leave me dry Drying up in conversaton, you will be the one you cannot talk. All your insides fall to pieces, you just sit there wishing you could still make love They’re the ones who’ll hate you when you think you’ve got the world all sussed out They’re the ones who’ll spit at you. you will be the one screaming out. Don’t leave me high, don’t leave me dry Don’t leave me high, don’t leave me dry It’s the best thing that you’ve ever had, the best thing that you’ve ever, ever had. It’s the best thing that you’ve ever, the best thing you have ever had has gone away. Don’t leave me high, don’t leave me dry Don’t leave me high, don’t leave me dry

Radio Head's High And Dry

Buhay Beauty Queen
Posted at 07:59 AM

Here are real boo-boos that can really make your day! ***************
Eddie Mercado: "Of the three titles at stake, which would you want to win? Finalist: "I want to win the Bb. Pilipinas Universe because it honor to represent the Philippines in the whole Universe!" - BINIBINING PILIPINAS CIRCA 70's
***************
Host: "Which language do you prefer, Tagalog o English?" Contestant: "BOT!"
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Host: "How are you?" Contestant: "How are you too!" *****************
Eddie Mercado: "Angie Dickinson has insured her legs for a million dollars, would you also do the same?" Melanie Marquez: "No, of course no, because I am proud and contented with my long legged." With this answer, she bagged the crown and eventually won the Miss International in 1978.
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Host: "Ano ang masasabi mo sa katayuan ng mga katulad mo sa lipunan, sabi nila...blah, blah, blah.. " Contestant: (panay ang ngiti at halatang kinakabahan...) " Unang una, magandang tanghali sa inyong lahat. Pwedeng pakiulit yung tanong?"
*******************
"Salamat po sa Board of Judges. Ito na ho yata ang pinakamaligaya kong pasko at manigong bagong taon sa inyong lahat." - MELANIE MARQUEZ'S ACCEPTANCE SPEECH FOR WINNING BEST ACTRESS IN A METRO FILMFEST
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"Sa tingin ko ang pinaka-asset ko sa mukha ko ay ugali! Mabait kasi ako eh" - a MR. POGI CONTESTANT'S ANSWER TO THE QUESTION: ANO SA MUKHA MO ANG PINAKA-ASSET MO?
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"I am not an addict. I am the victims!" – Melanie Marquez (talagang walang ka-kupas-kupas)
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Host: "Ano ba ang pinaka-favorite mong movie lately, Melanie?" Melanie: "Maganda yung kay Emma Thompson at Kate Winslet, yung "Simple and Simplicity".
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Pahabol Mula Sa Pinaghalu-halong Kuwento Ng Mga Kaibigan Sa NSI:
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Host: Why do you think you won Ms. International. Melanie Marquez: Oh, because my legs are long and winding.
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Host: Please describe the picture. (There is a bird caged in the picture) Miss Earth Contestant (1st batch): There is a bird. The bird is in the cage. I thank you.
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Host: Why did you join this contest? Mutya ng Pilipinas Contestant: Why did I? Join this contest? Yes, I enjoyed this contest, thank you. (Yes, it was spoken in that intonation)
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Sensya na kids, talagang wala lang akong magawa ngayon. HarHarHar! ** Promise, bibili talaga ako nung bagong libro ni Melanie Marquez. Nakakaloka talaga!

The Old Man Outside McDonald's
Posted at 08:00 AM

Life is one big charade. Just peer through the Manila crème de la crème’s peephole. They’re awash with pleasantries and comfort – enjoying the dainties of feasts, smiling their perfect smiles into the camera, dressed to kill in fashion that are never less than to-the-minute mod – these people, the quintessential images of wealth, health, and fortune. I don’t begrudge them their lovely times. Most of the time, I’m envious (most especially by the way fate smiles cordially upon them). However, during these trying moments I find myself knotted in queries left hanging for conclusion with regards to the absurd boundlessness of life, and the ephemeral illusions of the less fortunate's torrents which silently fleets away. It mars whatever good things my early broodings have caused me, wiping the curve from my lips. It shows me the lacking in every perfect smile I see, leaving me with but the faint frailties of an early perusal I made. I think of this particular squalor, a gnarled and wracked body along McDonald’s Munoz – lamentably dressed, reeking with a stench still unnamed, donning his rag-tuxedo, trash bag belt and mosquito cape – he sits there, hands outstretched to their farthest reach to catch a few coins and a handful of flinches and looks of disgust. In times of loss, whenever I expect people to be there, I can always count on this old man. Come rain, come shine, he’s present – more dependable than some politicians who are the difference in not reaching quorum. I’m sure he has his share of glory days but as of the moment, he’s there begging for alms, begging for mercy, for empathy, and probably peace – an end to his tormenting stature. I am turned from pity to bereavement as I contemplate on the series of emotions I transcend from as I carefully drop a coin into this soul’s eager hands. Would I feel pride? My ego-imp mischievously veers my eyes to turn around and check out if anyone has seen my act of generosity. How about stern cynicism? I then berattle myself for abetting the state of his being a beggar – I silently will myself to turn away and scold myself for his brittle bones look strong enough to support himself to work! Then the guilt inevitably rolls through me like a torrent, and I am moved to ineffable pity. But before I am reproached by any other emotion, forgetfulness visits my door to soothe my weary mind. Then I get out of there, anywhere else but near him, and when I’m home, the unnamed stench is still creeping in the alae of my nose, and that miserable face lingers with me for days to come, until I can’t take it anymore and I make a couple of sandwiches, bursting and take it to that dimly lit crevice to dump them all unceremoniously into his begging hands. But it’s never enough, so I make horrible rhymes, chanting them like a mantra to lull me to a more peaceful state of mind, because nothing I can do will make it right, and all the words I say will still be trite. Dusk will come and still, it will be a sleepless night until dawn claims my restless heart, and the world revolves, uncaring.

Declaration of Self Esteem
Posted at 08:03 AM

To You,
Always remember, you are beautiful.
~C
My Declaration of Self Esteem
I am me. I am unique. There's not another human being in the whole world like me -- I have my very own fingerprints and I have my very own thoughts. I was not stamped out of a mold like a Coca-Cola top to be the duplicate of another. I own all of me -- my body, and I can do with it what I choose; my mind, and all of its thoughts and ideas; my feelings, whether joyful or painful. I own my ideals, my dreams, my hopes, my fantasies, my fears. I reserve the right to think and feel differently from others and will grant to others their right to thoughts and feelings not identical with my own. I own all my triumphs and successes. I own also all my failures and mistakes. I am the cause of what I do and am responsible for my own behavior. I will permit myself to be imperfect. When I make mistakes or fail, I will know that I am not the failure -- I am still O.K. -- and I will discard some parts of me that were unfitting and will try new ways. I will laugh freely and loudly at myself -- a healthy self-affirmation. I will have fun living inside my skin. I will remember that the door to everybody's life needs this sigh: Honor Thyself I have value and worth. I am me, and I am O.K. (Adapted from Self Esteem by Virginia Satir) **bagay na bagay ito sa iyo pinsan. hundun, sexygoddess, summer; you are all worth it. **bebe mitch, we miss you. :cry: ** christien, kahit nandyan ka lang, miss pa rin kita.