M = Multi-lingual 多舌

I try my best never to spend Saturday nights at home, and whenever possible, taking the chance to do something out of the ordinary once in a while, as advised by an internet friend of mine. So yesterday, although I was still feeling a bit sore that we weren't going clubbing as I planned a MONTH in advance, I was determined not to let anything ruin a wonderful night. After all, it was La Femme Nikita's birthday.

We went to M (museum) Cafe for some after dinner cocktails. It's this ultra-chic and cozy coffee shop near the tranquil zen garden beside the mall. It was kinda pretentious I have to admit, but the ambience and service were just fantastic and they played the best chillout-lounge music around. Note: When looking for a quaint place to hangout, never scrimp on the prerequisites.

All 4 of us were very well-dressed, as if any time on a whim, we may still decide to go clubbing at the end of it all. Of course that NEVER happened, but it wasn't to say I was disappointed. On the contrary, it was all rather like this infamous MTV live performance that featured 3 famous pop divas in their wedding gowns. You won't get my point right now so just continue and read on Ü

On the 1st round we tried all sorts of drinks:

1. Strawberry Crush - our all-time favorite; a mixture of thick milky liqueur with crushed strawberries and vodka.

2. Lychee Martini - a good substitute for the former; martini with those sweet canned lychee preserves.

3. Dry Martini - Joeboy's order straight-up with 3 little olives impaled on a toothpick.

4. Vanilla Salabat - my attempt at trying to be "daring" on drinks; not good. The ginger taste was only amazing with the side salad dressing.

On the 2nd and 3rd round we were already speaking foreign languages:

Russian. Samovar. Dosvidania. Le Femme Nikita was too tipsy to recall the rest of her basic learnings.

Español. La mujercita es una mentirosa. ¿Donde esta mi camarero? El "girto" es como un baso. Y tu papá tambien.

Mandarin. ¿Donde esta el chiníto camarero??? There were other stuff I was pronouncing fluently in Mandarin (who knew I could still speak it?!) but it wouldn't make any sense typing it down phoenetically.

Try this: 世界和平 Shr-Xie Huh-An ... "World Peace" Hahahaha

Fookien. Ho-eh. Bo lan chao. Lan chao bin. Chi bai bin.

Tagalog. Putang-ina. Lasing ka na ba? Make tusok-tusok the fishballs.

English. Imperatives. I've done my part of the deal by kissing YOU. Now, I wanna see YOU kissing HER.

French. Kissing. Avec un peu langue.

Being Honest

"and I have sense to recognize
but I don't know how to let you go"

-- Do What You Have To Do by Sarah McLachlan


I honestly didn't want to go to work today. Not on a Friday, not when I had to deal with the ambiguities of a job description I openly embraced. However, I also felt that this was what I had been asking for. To be out of my comfort zone. To learn new things aside from those lessons I already know and am good at. I was careful enough to wish for it and now that it's here, I'm sorta copping out on the offer. I've found I'm not fond of Heroin, regardless of the situation or the mood. I hate to admit it but Joeboy was correct with his observation -- I'm just one of those people who complain too much.

I've given this a lot of thought. I was troubled exactly because I denied it when I knew it was true.

But this person is different now. He's no longer Mark Renton. He's no longer the type who fears people of mediocrity or the little pieces of reality in an overprotected life. He has been like this for 3 months now and there is no stopping him. Two years of depression had given him sufficient knowledge about himself (not to mention the sudden impetus for change), more than any psychology course can give. More than any astrological advice can foretell. I can keep telling this to myself until I'm totally convinced. I am THAT good. hahahaha

I've given this a lot of thought. It was like solving a math riddle.

Word problem: Given line A and line B, what is the measure of line C when all three lines form a triangle?

Solution: When a person is given line A -- good education, security, a comfortable home, loving support, and all the basic needs -- and line B -- passion, creativity, an adventurous spirit, career and financial possibilities, and all the basic wants, line C appears to never connect with the point of origin. It never will. It has to complete the triangle by attaching itself to both ends of lines A and B. It becomes pointless for line C to dwell on its past.

The measure of success has to take into account the satisfaction of basic needs and the achievement of wants, hopes and dreams. There has to be a connection between the two. Associations. Networks. Only thus can line C be measured with something like the Pythagorean Theorem, when you have your needs and wants in multitudes, the expectations for success or actualization multiply too, but it doesn't mean you will never get there.

Vilify me for having tried to compare Maslow to an exact science. Isn't it those people who feel they're not actualized, those who regret, the ones trying to go back to a point of origin? It will never happen.

As for me, I'll be talkin' to m' boss on Monday to try to strike a compromise. Hopefully I'll be able to get rid of the ambiguity by being honest.

Chinese Town

Was it flame or fire
that burned down the little Chinese town
back in those days
when my father would sell old coins
to the passers-by. His
sweat would drip from his eyes,
his hands broken up and aged
for a 16-year old.
In the wet market stands
he would hear of the greatest tragedy
that would haunt him and his children.
They say it was a candle's tongue
that spread the gossip all throughout. It
reached the ears and curtains
of every neighbor, the heat
increasing intensity in every household,
the innocent children, scalded by
those malicious lies.

My father had watched
the people run him by. They
almost carried their houses, he would say.
The ground had been dry,
the water could not reach their home.
Their house was deep inside the town.
There was nothing to save
except themselves.

The fires ate up
the roofs, the walls, the memories.
All my father had
were his old coins. He
held on to them like they were
his parents. He held back his tears
that could not drench the fires.
The flame still burns
but he only feels it inside.

Mr. Write

"It feels like a low level of despair you live in where you're not getting any answers but you're living OK and you can smile at the office."

-- Jim Carrey on his bout with drug addiction and depression



I'm a bit pissed off today because my friends canceled a Saturday night party I invited them to go to a month ago. Although their reasons are legit, it still pissed me off to have to know on the last minute. Anyway, I tried going to work early but my body just couldn't wake up to the 2 alarm clocks I had set at different snooze intervals. Not that I didn't sleep early, it was maybe more of not wanting to go to work. And my goodness, at this early a stage already backing out? Another reason to be pissed. Hence with all the pissing around, I spent part of the morning checking email and chatting with friends while eating McDonald's take out before the boss arrived. Yes, I was bordering on delinquency today and the boss wasn't happy. So was I. He had me revise the sponsorship letter, which I did promptly, and he had me do an invite poster for the contest we were to stage at the end of December. I had the words already done the previous week, all I needed to do was to refer the task to the in-house graphic artist, which I did a few minutes before leaving. I have become my most productive self today. Tsk, tsk.

While burning away the McChicken sandwich with upsized ice tea through walking, my mind went on its most bimbotic mode and I got myself thinking about WORLD PEACE. I don't exactly remember how I came to thinking about it but here's part of the intellectual abstraction:

There will never be world peace because it is an ongoing process, a dynamic state between order and chaos. What we have right now IS world peace -- countries struggling in war, countries initiating harmony through agreements, people dying, people born and surviving.

World peace can only be achieved in its most absolute form if there is total order or total chaos ... and neither of the two are practically possible.


Now, if I can only get this kind of result at work, I'd be Mr. Write Now!

So-Called Chaos

"My tendency to want to do away feels natural
My urgency to dream of softer places feels understandable

My tendency to want to hide away feels easier and
The tendency is picturing another place comforting to go."

-- Out is Through by Alanis Morissette



Indeed, life is a series of ups and downs, a series of stables and rattles, of silences and noises. Sometimes you may find order in it, most of the time, it's all just random disorder. The beauty of it is in its being unpredictable, but that sort of unpredictability is also a source of anxiety and displeasure for a number. The only way to control it is to control ourselves first, to render ourselves in strength over everything that comes our way and not be afraid of the challenges and consequences. When you find a comfortable nook somewhere in your existential musings, enjoy that momentary bliss because you never know when the rug will be swept from under you. Just be prepared to stand up if you fall, dust yourself off and start walking again. It will happen again, but this time, you won't be so easily shaken.

For instance, my room at home is made of old wood. The walls had been taken out and replaced more than 3 times already. It was a nuisance of course, especially when the dust settles on the bed, the floors, and everything else the fingers can't pry open. Just today, when I was all set to leave for work, I suddenly found out they took the walls out the side of my closet. All the stuff I've been keeping from plainview had been exposed. It felt like my gut was spliced open and all my innards were coming out, this all happening while my Mom who was sitting outside on the sofa watched intently. She never mentioned they'd do this. I felt violated. I felt disrespected. In that instant, the relaxed mood I had all morning became inundated with the determination to move out as fast as my fingers can type the words "unsex me here!" Of course, I'm in much better spirits now that I'm typing away in an internet shop. My prothiaden's keeping me sane.

And for all those people who texted and called me up with comforting words, you make me believe there's always a way out, that even if it's not the best way to go, you're there to "resex" me back into existential virginity.

Britain in Breton

"I'm no fucking buddhist
But this is enlightenment"

-- Alarm Call by Bjork


I wrote this extremely long and detailed account of my Saturday night with college friends, but due to the tragically fcuked up dial-up system, everything got erased after I pushed the "submit" button. I thought I copied and pasted the written words before I had sent it for publishing, but no, being the multi-tasking talent that I am, I copied something else. I was screaming my head off and cursing the motherfcuking computer for 2 minutes until I came to accept the idiocy as my mistake. Human error, after all, accounts for a more memorable learning experience.

So now, I'm in an internet shop typing the unsorted madness away because both the phone lines at home are dead and the lunch party had simmered down from the epicurean feast to watching The Transporter on dvd. I can't handle that. I had to go out.

For the sake of memory, here's a gist of what happened last night:


Members -- Transience, Mussolini, Bismuth, moi, Netski, and Mr. P800/hr.

Venue 1 -- Cafe Breton in Tomas Morato, behind Thai-in-a-Box
Time 1 -- 5pm to 9:30pm for Mussolini

Venue 2 -- Netski's haunted house
Time 2 -- 9:30pm to 12:30am

Topics of conversation -- best friends, fubus, ghosts, movies, feng shui, mirrors, depression, weight loss, mood swings, suicide-homicide-drowning vs. taong grasa, Masters, Crepe Paisanne, coffee, ciggies, people who weren't there, people who WERE there, picture taking and dirty talk videos, the BRIT guy, blogs, sex, love, work, relationships, silences, and other yada-yada of communication in no particular order.

Other perks -- Vodka Mudshake, SMG Light, and fish crackers for the remaining 5. A mercy kiss offer.

I'm copying and pasting this on notepad. I can't afford to lose everything and start from scratch again. This one's costing me a lot more. Too bad I'm illp-equipped to replicate the masterpiece that was yesterday's tragic loss. Putang ina talaga. I can handle losing a cellphone better.

Well, not really, no.

22 Toppings

I think one can never spoil pizza with too many toppings. The mere fact that tomato sauce and herbs hold the whole recipe together, it seems all the flavors complement each other regardless of their individual tastes.

Friday night happened after the fireworks display on an event I don't really care to know about. Ninjato requested me to invite him whenever I had plans to meet up with my highly-esteemed college buddies. ANd so I did. Transience came over from the northern-way (and oh what tidings it was to finally see her after 3 months!) while Mr. 800/hr was there direct from traffic city. From Coffee Bean, le rendezvous-oficiel, it seemed like a long walk looking for a place to dine, but with conversation like ours, not a step was a wasted moment. Inside the pizza place, we were our usual jovial selves, sharing the aroma of friendship beyond the confined limits of Di Mark's.

On a single, thin, round crust, there were 22 toppings littered over a substantial amount of tomato paste. There were anchovies, pepperoni pieces, sausage pieces, those green nubbins that looks like a green garbanzos -- I forget what they're called (capers, I think), sardines, cheese, ham, green peppers, red peppers, garlic, onions, yada yada yada ... 22 topics in less than 2 hours. The water was free.

Every 15 minutes, someone would go pee. It was the same person all the time even until we transferred to Segafredo. It never failed, the predictability. The regularity was almost, almost ...

... like the rain in Britain.

On the 3rd Day ...

I realize that one cannot shoot up Heroin on a daily basis without passing out into junkie limbo. I've had 3 straight days of it and for the past two days I've been too exhausted to sleep late. Not that my job of cooking up requires physical tenacity, no, I merely type away the 3-4 documents I have to do and have it proofread before making the final print. Add to that of course, the fact that we went on a client visit on my 2nd day. There was supposed to be an event I had to go to today, but alas, the heroin's still freshly flowing in my blood. It's not like taking the best orgasm you've ever had, multiplying it by a thousand and going somewhere near it. It's work.

I'm not complaining really. I've encountered a lot of people who're less than happy shooting up themselves. People who have a quadrillion times higher the salary I'll be getting in a month. Disgruntled employees are a natural phenomena that cannot be completely eradicated on the basis of their junkie habit. There'll always be complaints, always be excuses to hate the job, always the hungry need to get rid of incompetent superiors and subordinates. As for me, I work alone so it's all just a matter of money. (Let me heat up the skag with a dull spoon ...)

I got to thinking days ago while I was high on smack, how the flight or fight defense mechanism works in human beings in times of crises. More specifically, on the issue of giving up or letting go. Is there really a difference between the two or are they merely seemingly opposite versions yet are essentially the same thing -- the acknowledgement of failure. While "giving up" is generally perceived as a sign of weakness and defeat, "letting go" takes on a more noble stance that exudes strength and emotional realization. Then again, I don't really know for sure and that's why I ask. Like everything else, is this all a matter of perspective too?

Dammit ... I hate using dull needles.

Hit the ground running.

The Heroin

" . . . personality, that's what counts, that's what keeps a relationship going through the years. Like heroin. I mean, heroin's got f*cking great personality."

-- Sick Boy



Heroin. My first hit after a long time. During my rehab hiatus, I thought my sinews had lost their resilience to a sudden flight of aldosterone. It was time to try new drugs and I'm still suffering the ill effects of the shot I got myself into late this afternoon. It beats any meat injection.

Yes everybody, Mark Renton has finally gotten himself the low-wage, overworked-underpaid, creative job after much thought. It's too early in the game to forecast how he'll fare in this season's football game, being fresh out of the commercial shores and social circuit. He can only hope to plagiarize Archie Gemmill in 1978 against Holland. The worst part is, the pay sucks so bad, he won't be able to "proceed directly to the intravenous injection of hard drugs..." No more expensive parties and getting drunk on Crystale, no new high society-noveau riche designer clothes, no more sleeping late and waking up late. Most painfully, no chance of moving in to the penthouses of soaring city columns. This is it. This is all for the thrill of experience. After all, it's the only thing he can afford to charge it to.

The new rush is reminiscent of his old school responsibilities, like a pair of opium suppositories stuck right up the arse. It's not so bad really. "Slow release, like. Bring you down gradually. Custom f*cking designed for your needs," as Mikey Forrester would've put it simply for him. The new challenge may be difficult and he can suddenly go cold turkey without anything as much as methadone to soothe the pain. It may not be the treatment he had been briefed about and the prognosis may still lack persuasive clarity, yet he's eager to take the challenge of shooting up again with the resilient hopes of gaining worldly knowledge without losing memory of what he had been before any of this had ever happened. Sometimes, one is never really conscious even when one is awake.

If I didn't have to prepare for a major client presentation tomorrow (on my 2nd day at the job!!!) I would've spent more time writing about my Puerto weekend with La Femme Nikita and all the new stuff I got to realize during the wonderful weekend.


Sadly yet submittingly, I start tapping on my antecubitals for the insertion of the next disposable syringe.

The smack'll come any moment now. I can't wait.

Flying high: Sugar Ray's Mark McGrath in '99

General Patronage

Needless to say, after the night out that ended at 4:30 in the morning, I got home safe and sound but not tired enough to fall asleep. After eating breakfast, I decided to go watch The Incredibles in a nearby mall. I wanted to catch the 1st showing to avoid major traffic. I also wanted to avoid the Saturday morning crowd because they tend to be chatty in movie theaters. At 10:30, I was already in a comfy seat in the middle, watching this Pixar short about a tap dancing sheep who loses his fleece every season. He becomes momentarily depressed that he's pink and naked, until this Big American Jackalope comes to the rescue and all ends well. Typical American ethnocentric brainwash propaganda.

The movie was funtastic. It was so great, I decided to sit through another round! I was thoroughly entertained with the wit that wasn't contrived and the flow of the story that was simply well-planned. It started really fast to tell you that it's an action-packed family movie, then slowed down a bit when you reach the part of suburban America. After that the movie picks up the pace once more to a satisfying climax. The cinematography was superb and reminiscent of James Bond films, including the musical score. I'm buying the soundtrack if they come up with one. This is for general patronage folks.

Note: It's really dull in the suburbs. There's generally a lot to do in the morning like hanging out in the mall or a friend's house, play video games or watch a movie for $7, eat in a nice restaurant or go rent a movie from Blockbuster. At night, the only things one can do are hangout, get high, get drunk, go bowling, or go to bed. They don't have night spots or clubs unlike in the major cities. Trust me I stayed in Virginia for 2 months and already I felt homesick during the time that I came to polish my highfalutin accent. Hahahaha The only thing that I wish we had here that they have there are those 1 to 2 day concert festivals of all the famous artists and musicians. Those are really worth going to. For $35, I got to see Sugar Ray, Orgy, SilverChair, Blink182, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Goo Goo Dolls, Mighty Bosstones, Live, Lit, The Offspring, and a lot more. I got to mosh in front where everyone was throwing giveaway cds at each other. Sigh ... it was truly memorable.

I've always considered myself a city boy even if I came from Baguio. I can't imagine living in a place that has no night life, no conveniences, no people. That would be torturous. Compared to American suburbia, there's no place like Metro Manila ... and the International Business Class cabin.

Moving forward, I asked around computer shops for any firewire-USB converters. Of course, they didn't have any. Too bad coz I'm not in the position to spend thousands with professional editors. For one, the unedited copy of the video contains highly-classified material unfit for most audiences. No it's not MAHAL taking a bath; not porn or anything Jojo Veloso would appreciate in the buff. What I can tell you is that some parts are extremely gratuitous and can only be seen in the editor's cut of my DVD. This isn't for general patronage.


The little prince: "What is essential is invisible to the eye."

Thank god for deleted scenes.


And so this only means I won't be able to enter my short film this year, though I still plan to finish editing it the way I want, complete with voice-overs and musical scoring. Perhaps if they open the same contest next year, I'll have it entered then if that's possible. No worries. Ü

ANyway, in a few minutes I'm off to Puerto!!! New friends are really fun! Yehey!!!

I admit I f*cked up. Big deal.

The Night Is Always Young

"shakedown 1979, cool kids never have the time
on a live wire right up off the street
you and i should meet
junebug skipping like a stone
with the headlights pointed at the dawn
we were sure we'd never see an end to it all"

-- 1979 by The Smashing Pumpkins



Right when I thought the night couldn't get any worse, I spared myself from all the insanity by reaching out. At 11pm, I was determined not to spend a fab Friday night at home so I texted my dear friend Risso who's at Masas. Although the cab ride killed my poor penniless pocket, it was all worth the trip. I got to meet up with three of his college buddies and got to catch up on the latest news about each other. He told me Rissa was there for the party in Temple Bar for MTV. People were literally crowding outside and my seat, the one jutting out into the walkway, was a constant target for passer-bys. We transferred to Coffee Bean where I bumped into Ninjato and his two cool friends Ekka and Geena. I ended up staying with his group for the rest of the evening till 4:30am. It was great. I didn't feel left out at all considering I just met them. Meeting interesting new people is wonderfully therapeutic. It doesn't have to be pleasant all the time, but the act of opening up and sharing thoughts and experiences takes one out of the darkness and into the night. The night is always young.

Anyway, I should be indignant about something that's been bothering me, but I refuse to be affected. Sometimes it's difficult not to get depressed especially when the matter concerned hits an unresolved issue, but what is the journey without a little car trouble sometimes? Perhaps these are times one should stop and view the surroundings. There's always something new to see.

My new muse: Eugenia Volodina. She is Russian.

Trend of Thought Today

For the past few days, I've felt like my cerebrum's been running around the metropolis, my body abandoned somewhere at home, smoking, talking, walking around. It's like it never needed anything physical to hold itself back; a mental competition that leaves me absolutely exhausted just trying to catch up. I do sometimes, but with its convoluted nature, my brain's too unpredictable even for my astrological Aquarian complexes. It's like trying to grab the air we breathe, the aura we exude, the thoughts that run away every now and then. My thoughts elope with the idea that there is nothing constant in this world, an accord with my ruling planet Uranus, to which I steadfastly hang on to keeping my overall emotional stability, thanks to the conservativism of my second ruling planet, Saturn. Hence, with much milling about, I've concluded, and with some accuracy, the cosmic reason for my being a walking contradiction.

Since I cannot grasp the air I breathe, I drag on a multitude of Winston lights. It gives me comfort to perceive that the air coming out of my lungs is mine and I can hold it back for as long as I can without the fear of asphyxiation, at least not today. This I do until the last ember dies on the last inch of the last stick, all's okay with the world the way I see it from outside my open screen window -- a beige wall decorated with droppings from our national bird.

Then, with the radio tuned in to 89.9, I realize it's Friday Magic Madness. Another day of reminiscing through the years of my childhood I miss so much. The karate classes, the swimming classes, biking around a Fairview subdivision, wearing my favorite Swatch to school, my overused Colours black shoes, the Xavier School football field I spend pensive afternoons in, the tasty Beef Stroganoff sold at 15 bucks per plate, getting rowdy in the school bus, hiding in the toilet during the Christmas party for something I did (or wrote), walking from school to Robinson's Galleria just to watch Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey, buying blank cassette tapes to record new wave songs over the radio, checking out unique stuff in Gift Gate and Regina's in Greenhills, throwing stones at the village bully, scourging the toad hiding under the car, playing Street Fighter at a neighbor's, bathing in a plastic pool, staying up all night playing majong, setting out the orange tent on the lawn for us kids, drinking a cool glass of Bear Brand milk before going to bed, exchanging horror stories with my cousins till we fall asleep, waking up early morning for a cup of coffee with my doctor aunt, the sun creeping in through the windows and over the carpets, another day to feel alive.

Those were the days.

These days, it's all about the promise of greatness, the possibilities of party weekends after work, wishing Deux Ex Machina for a hopelessly deterministic Hume-an, the longing for co-dependence and travel opportunities, toiling like forever to keep the dreams alive.

It's not so bad really. We all need to be inspired.

It's calm under the waves, in the blue of my oblivion ...

I Know

"And when the crowd becomes your burden
And you've early closed your curtains
I'll wait by the backstage door
While you try to find
The lines to speak your mind
And pry it open, hoping for an encore

And if it gets too late
For me to wait
For you to find you love me, and tell me so
It's ok, don't need to say it."

-- I Know by Fiona Apple



I fell asleep this afternoon listening to her. This song lulled me to bittersweet slumber. Much needed, after all, it had been 24 hours of being awake since 2pm the other day and a chunk of that waking period was devoted solely to analyzing the permutations of 3.142857 ...

It's not morose in the sense that I realize past the highs and lows of being on Prothiaden, the journey continues through a new series of emotional landscapes. I feel I'm at the foot of the 25th mountain beside a wonderful volcanic lake. Pristine. Calm. Waiting for me to bathe in. I could, yet I fear the sulfur might kill me. I might die in the burning water. Would you if you knew the water could kill?


So I tried to dip my hands in, making little ripples of consciousness
just enough to spell out my name, the name of boredom.

The concentric circles reach out north. They meet endings around the shore.
These are rings I can never wear.

The ripples crosshatch, connect, yet the waters inevitably keep their peace.
They become serene again.


I see myself in the faint reflection, but that is not who I am.
I have no face. I am the wind that disturbs the peace.

The long and winding road

Thorned Roses

"this is the narrative of everyone's life. That behind the phenomenal differences, there is but one story, and that's the story of moving from No to Yes. All of life is like, "No thank you, no thank you, no thank you," then ultimately it's, "Yes, I give in, yes, I accept, yes, I embrace." That's the journey. Everyone gets to Yes in the end, right?"

-- Waking Life by Richard Linklater



True to form, at the onset of getting a regular job, I found myself frantically doing something else the night before the interview, something I deemed more essential for my waning pragmatism. It wasn't so much that I didn't want to grab the hand of opportunity, but rather, I wanted the answers to an age-old question of money vs. career opportunities. Wanting to immediately find the answers to my new question, I tried checking the internet for wisdom.

It's difficult to go into specific details right now, that with the pros and cons of my options, to be honest, make me more inclined to choose the path with far greater monetary rewards for the sake of necessity. The work itself is very much routine and clerical, Saturdays and Sundays are guaranteed off, and there's that potential to meet new people my age or younger. The comfort zone, if I can call it that.

On the other hand, the less popular choice would break new grounds for me and can potentially open the doors for what I'm destined to do. The pay sucks, the office sucks (according to my friend), but the people I'll be meeting with could be potential contacts. It's a very young company dreaming of outdoing the classier competition with possibly a cliché overworked-underpaid subsistence. Ideally, at the end of it all, if indeed I last more than a year or so, I'll be rich in experience (and debts.) Yet despite this, I'm pretty sure this path that's strewn with thorned roses is the better of the two for the longterm.

If I were in my college mindset right now, I would've tossed a coin and let fate decide for me. However, even if I believe it would be easier to follow the dime's heads or tails prophecy, I felt it'll do me more good to decide for myself. I'd have to enjoy the process of deciding. It'll teach me to be accountable for the consequences of my choice. After all, accountability in itself can be considered a self-empowering exercise.

My very close and dependable friend Ninjato is also undergoing the same dilemma so we decided to team up and beat our brains out with existential discourse. It was a very long and stimulating conversation over coffee and smokes (lots of it), where we dissected each other's mindful catharses like crayfish. There were many other things we talked about that we've never talked about before, spanning the years like it was only yesterday that we were ostracized in high school, then now we were already planning a trip (a CD trip) to HongKong if we end up in the lucrative nook of the comfort zone. Haaayyy ... the possibilities.


Though the experiences may vary significantly, don't we all end up where we're supposed to anyway?

Drinking Games

I can't remember the last time I engaged in a drinking game. Maybe that's because I've never been in any. Hahaha! I'm not much of a drinker and I easily get drunk because I like to mix everything up as if it were non-alcoholic fruit juices. Beer with vodka tonic, a little softdrink here, some lime there, a sprinkle of processed lemon salt on my hand, lick, lick, gulp .... aahhhh tequila! Nope, I'm not drunk right now. Such a shame really coz I kept winning the 7-Up straight-up thing we've been doing all night. Even if I had been winning, somehow I felt more like a loser for missing out on the Kamikaze dive. With 2 tall pitchers around 2 liters each, I only had the chance to take in 5 shots. Not even 7 for wisdom in a group of 8. Can I help it if I have excellent hand coordination and unwavering presence of mind? Hahahaha Tragically, I'll forever be sober.

Seriously though, the last time I had a little too much to drink, I ended up barfing into a tall, empty glass i "borrowed" from my sister. When the gastric volcano erupted, the glass runneth over. I thought to myself, "O god, I've run out of puke space." So the acidic lava filled part of the small, round table on the next spewing. I projectiled another two times on the floor. Surprisingly, I didn't get myself in such a mess, unlike my sister and a kind cousin. The latter escorted me to the men's room where I washed my face and thought how remarkably relieved I felt afterwards. In an instant, my headache was gone, just like that! Of course, it didn't help that the people outside were staring at me when we left, the waiter pitifully mopping away my partially-digested Chinese dimsum dinner.

I can still recall vividly how the pinkish congee had bits of seaweed in it.

25 Going 13

What's one to do on a Friday night when all about's going theirs and the rain rhythmically dresses the naked pavement with her transparent clothes?

I decided to join the languorous festivity by watching the merry makeover.


Here's the Original Soundtrack of the realtime show:

1. Gusgus - Very Important People (Album: This Is Normal)
2. Digable Planets - Rebirth of Slick (Album: Reachin' - A New Refutation of Time and Space)
3. Bebel Gilberto - Summer Samba (Album: Hed Kandi Acid Lounge Vol. 1 Disc 1)
4. Kruder & Dorfmeister - High Noon (Album: H.Kandi Acid Lounge Vol. 1 Disc 2)
5. Primal Scream - Trainspotting (Album: OST Trainspotting Vol. 1)
6. Astrud Gilberto - Without Him (Album: Starbucks presents Astrud)
7. The Police - Message in a Bottle - New Classic Rock Mix (Album: Greatest Hits)
8. The Police - Roxanne (Album: Greatest Hits)
9. Kinobe - Summer in the Studio (Album: VerseBridgeChorus?)
10. Björk - One Day (Album: Debut ... a must have!)
11. George Michael - Soul Free (Album: Listen Without Prejudice Vol. 1)
12. Groove Armada - Inside My Mind (Blue Skies) (Album: Chill Out Project Vol. 1)
13. Jask feat. Jocie - Surrender Your Love (Original Mix) (Album: Hed Kandi Summer Mix 2003 UK)

Ü

Impending Apocalypse

"Never know what the future will bring
Leave the past 'cos it don't mean a thing
So this is all or nothing

... There must be a better way
There must be a way to change"

-- All or Nothing by Dirty Vegas


I met up with three wonderful college friends last night. It was a blast! When the other had to go home already, the remaining trio pulled off an all-nighter in a 24-hr fastfood joint. We stayed there from 12am to 5:30am just talking about all sorts of stuff, mostly completing our "top 5" lists. It was hysterical.

We thoroughly enjoyed plotting the Top 3 countries/cities per major continents of the world, then the Top 3 of those Tops in a final draw. We talked about wishes we had for the country, for ourselves, for each other; material and intangible gifts we wanted for Christmas, , languages we wanted to learn, celebrities we wanted to interview, celebrities/politicians we wanted to bludgeon to death, and artists we wanted to see live in concert. The most hilarious part, we made Top 3 lists for college professors we would choose, nay, be forced to fcuk should we be faced with an impending apocalypse where professors from the department of arts and communication be the only orifices left that have the ability for pleasure and procreation. We were laughing so hard, the hookers and pimps dining beside us gave us the "funny" look.

Unfortunately, my friend has the piece of paper where all of our answers were written (and tallied Hahahaha) and I'm waiting for the transcribed copy via email. Perhaps I'll post some of the stuff we've written. It'll give justice to the previous PEOPLE entry. Ü


All that wishful thinking got me really exhausted. For now, I need to rest. I can feel a good change coming my way ...

The Simple Mind

PEOPLE

in the spirit of genuine sociability and star-struckedness (© 2004), i'm posting here a list of celebrities under two important categories. the 1st category comes from an old profile i created in myspace and the 2nd category comes from an article i read in the sunday issue of the manila bulletin. without further ado ...



category 1 - notables


renato constantino - for writing Philippine History in the most factual, impartial, and thorough manner than any other Filipino, dead or alive.

joker arroyo - for trying to infuse a semblance of order and logic in a circus of old ferocious politicos y politicas.

mother teresa - a proof that truly good people still exist in spite of all the so-called temptations associated with democracy and American culture.

bill gates - for producing a program system that brings joy and extreme frustration at random while collecting the world's billions.

oprah - the next best thing to creating an empire since the time of the Romans.

beatrix kiddo - for having the informal license to kill in the name of revenge. After all, it's mercy, compassion, and forgiveness she lacks, not rationality....

paris hilton - for proving to the world that money DOES improve self-esteem. Move over Jessica Simpson!


category 2 - freakiest celebrity deaths


conor clapton, son of musician eric clapton 1991 -- fell out of 53rd floor window at the age of 5, prompting Eric to compose the worldwide hit "tears in heaven"

jeff buckley, musician 1997 -- drowned in the mississippi river, near mud island harbor, on may 29. his body wasn't found until june 4

capone, chicago gangster 1947 -- syphilis

albert dekker, actor and legislator 1968 -- suffocated, hanging from shower curtain rod, handcuffed, wearing women's lingerie

amelia earhart 1937 -- missing in an attempt to fly around the world.

michael findlay, horror film maker 1977 -- decapitated by helicopter blade

marvin gaye, singer 1984 -- murdered on his birthday by his father

leslie harvey, musician 1972 -- lead guitarist for Stone the Crows, died after being electrocuted onstage

relf, musician (The Yardbirds) 1976 -- electrocuted playing guitar in the bathtub

frank hayes, jockey 1923 -- heart attack during a race. his horse, Sweet Kiss, won the race, making Hayes the only deceased jockey to win a race

harry houdini, magician 1926 -- died on halloween with a ruptured appendix

Elvis Presley 1977 -- accidental drug overdose, he died while sitting on the toilet

Still, it would not last ...

Almost Infatuous

"When you develop an infatuation for someone, you always find a reason to believe that this is exactly the person for you. It doesn't need to be a good reason. Taking photographs of the night sky, for example. Now in the long run, that's just the kind of dumb irritating habit that would cause you to split up. But in the haze of infatuation, it's just what you've been searching for all these years."

-- excerpt from The Beach



It has been a wonderful month indeed! I cannot wait for the fun and excitement that November will bring. Just last week, I've been out almost every night hanging out with different sets of people pretty much around Metro Manila -- high school friends at Cibo Megastrip, college friends for a birthday party in Diliman, a former officemate and her officemates on Oktoberfest night in Makati, my favorite nurse friend for shawarma in Malate, and my new "posse" at Museum Cafe and yesterday when we started shooting my short film near Pasay. Add to this the long distance call from my homesick friend in Ontario. The only thing I missed out on were mingling with my tiki restaurant friends, family traditions, more specifically, interpersonal communication with them, but I think it's about time I live my own life. Although I've had to deal with emotional issues again aprés mon rennaissance, it's been the best month of my entire life so far. I've never felt more self-assured, more alive, and in a concrete way, I've regained new love for friends again. It's almost infatuous, if there was such a term. (If not, I'm copyrighting it here and now under my blog. Hear! Hear! The word infatuous has been copyrighted now © 2004)

Last night, when my internet connection failed me, I was supposed to write an entry about the wonderful soundtrack of the movie Forces of Nature. It's pointless to comment about the movie, I mean, Ben Affleck and Sandra Bullock. Completely folderol. However, most of the songs produced in the album were for keeps. It featured one of my all-time-favorite acid jazz one-hit wonders, Blue Boy with Remember Me (Soulstice Mix.) It also featured one of my all-time favorite bigbeat one-hit wonders, Lo-Fidelity All Stars' remix of the song Battle Flag by Pigeonhed. This track really rocks and whenever I hear it, I'd start dancing to it. (When I'm alone of course.) Hahaha There are three very sexy songs in the compilation too : Faithless' If Lovin' You Is Wrong (I Don't Wanna Be Right), Tricky's Slowly, and Holly Palmer's A Rose By Any Other Name. The latter is very trippy, very sensual. Other tracks to note are Propellerhead's Take California, a "Trailermen Go To Rio" remix version of Touch & Go's Would You (Go To Bed With Me?), Chris Tart's Love The One You're With and this Latin dance number entitled Cubanismo! by Descarga De Hoy. The soundtrack never fails to pick me up from the doldrums and lift my spirits up when I need it!

FOr now, I'm ending my long-standing infatuation with something that doesn't work anymore.

Austin and 4 Felicity Shagwells

FAMILiaritY Breeds Indifference

Austin: This tastes like shit.
Razzle: It IS shit Austin.
Austin: Oh good, I thought it was just me. (Sips from mug) It's a bit nutty.

-- from The Spy Who Shagged Me



All Saints' Day 2004. This must be the first time I did not spend November 1 with my family. Since my grandfather's death in 1992, visiting the cemetery has been a cherished family tradition. We'd go there and pig out on pizza and chicken adobo while playing majong or bingo. It's been fun. It still is, but I feel I need to feed myself new things; to start new traditions. After all, 2005 is only 2 months away and god I can't wait for New Year's Eve!!!

I simply told my family I was attending a birthday celebration, which is a fact. However, I didn't tell them the real reason I didn't want to go with them. The truth is, I didn't want to hear the same stories told over and over (like how it is during "Sunday School") and that I've grown too familiar with them I'm way past being contemptuous. It's become the absence of contempt, or perhaps, the avoidance of it. So for me right now, the family breeds indifference.

Indifference is my new fad. It's my way of zoning out from potentially harmful emotions and thoughts. I don't believe in self-reflection anymore. Just look where it got me.

It's like in that stupid joke about these guys coming across a pile of feces on the road. Guy1 wants to prove that the pile of feces is actually chocolate. Guy2 says it's shit but Guy1 doesn't believe so he dips his finger into the "chocolate" mess and tastes it for himself. Of course it's shit. Moral of the story? Indifference would mean seeing the shit on the ground but not caring to find out if it's chocolate or not. It's just not worth the trouble in most cases, not worth disorienting the senses over. Walk past it or sweep it clean.