Sunday, September 30, 2007

moon festival



let's go wind riding
chasing a recurrent dream..
infinite shoreline
whaling waves
canopy of stars..
neon lights shimmering thru the night

we lift our arms to the glaring moon
hail to bjork
hail to kerouac
stamping our feet into restlessness

let's celebrate the moon festival..





chai brings forth wheat..
russ have wings
while me got a lamp cage.
we march off towards the shore..
we have some loaf of bread, tapa and dark chocolate
washed it off with wine
we sing songs and and dance under the moonlight


surreal
dreamy
capsulated by the sea


standing facing the infinite shoreline
bjork sang the anchor song
this is our home
this is, our home


...













...






























...

Thursday, September 27, 2007

it must have been chai's day..

way back in college, CHAI and i ran from UP Admin, passing the oblation, climb up in the HUmDiv Bldg until we reached the Masscom veranda. It was a sunny afternoon by then, the caimito tree must've been still and filtering the sun rays. in that very location we light up a candle then chai and i commemorated her birthday.

that was a few years back. and recently, on chai's birthday, we went to Paseo Arsenas and breath in at starbucks. it must be chai's day since the moment that we had our order from the barista our receipt randomly has this lucky space for the code which we need to get from the web page and redeem the receipt for a tall beverage of our choice---and yeah, their treat. ok? that's cool. for that we wave our hands up high and dance infront of the barista..


then we had our toast in their veranda while listening to Cynthia Alexander and Bonnie Pink. Chai would love to smoke but she ran out of sticks. so she tried to rummage through the nearby stalls but to no avail. so she need to go out from the village. good thing she met a friend Glory who fished out two remaining white sticks. Chai later give the other one for me. we cast faint smile on our face as smoke wafted through thin air.


we later proceed to Perpetual Succuor to visit Vera. Chai and i still don't know if vera's still admitted or she might have been discharged out in the hospital. So we're trying to surprise her and at the same time, ourselves. we found, got inside the room 123 and tadah! find vera there. phew.. ok, and the attending doctor drop by and prompt her that she could be discharged from the hospital since she just need to wait for the findings and just continue her medication at home. we celebrate with vera's mom. while savoring the cake, a nurse came by and told us that she's going to remove the IV. it would be my first time to see a person having an IV removed from her vein so i made sure that i got my camera rolling.


time passed by too swiftly, chai needs to go for work so i go ahead and send her off to take a cab. while we're about to go near the exit. we remember what we did few years ago. so we do this: "on your march... get set... go..!"


and run like crazy together.. =)




x

Monday, September 24, 2007

pricked






"i have a funny room # here in perpetual succuor. 123. wala pa exact findings naunsa ko. i suspect it's abusar sa lawas..."



vera sent this message on the night she was admitted in the hospital. im damn worried about her. it so happen that i'm about to drag my butt to the office at that time.. so i can't drop by and check her up. but i promise her that i'll pay her a visit the moment my shift ends. But it so happen that i'm scheduled for endoscopy at that very date and i feel quite nauseated and inform her that i've got to postponed it later that day.



the last time i saw her was she's in her bedroom shrouded with a flower printed blanket as if she tried to get warmed in a cocoon and when i kiss her forehead, she was fiery hot. so now im quite hysterical what had become of her. in the quite corner of my mind, i could imagine vera, bedridden with tubes pricked through her as salinated liquid bombard her with electons or whatever medicine to sustain her and attain homeostasis (thanks Dr. Carvajal, my biology teacher way back in highschool for that term). fragile and vulnerable, she might have just stop struggling and retire for total surrender. let the doctors, the 21st century medication and the murmurs of the in-house hospital nuns recover her.



as i try to find my way towards the room "123" (a faint smile but it is vera's real room number..) i find myself searching along the corridor with rooms shut down with names of patients together with the name of attending doctors posted on. i can't quite imagine how many other patients whose struggling behind those doors to regain full recovery and pay the wooping bills afterwards..



Mdm. Lasam was the one open the door for me and i'm feeling better to see her smile with her black satiny hair radiate with her. Vera could have got her hair from her mother, pure black but instead of satiny, it's a little lack lustre and shaggy at this time. but her face is lively as ever as she animatedly talk about this and that.. we talk and giggle and it brighten up the room then i munch with Mdm. Lasam's special carrot cake which i find myself nibbling with carrot and pineapple shreds.



i withdraw a deep sigh of relief for seing vera getting better. later, somebody knock on the door and we're glad to find out it's russ. so now the three of us talk and catch up what we've been thru lately.



it's an hour before 9pm, time for me to go. as always, vera won't accept "good bye" for a good riddance.. it should always be "see you.."



get well soon our lady in distress.. =)

Sunday, September 23, 2007

one year old

on september 18th, it marked my first anniversary in the company. after shift i went to my "nativity station" where i sign my contract and would love the idea of crawling like a baby, if it just not because of the agents who are still taking in calls that hinders me to do that. this day also coincides with my farewell to a nonsense crush here in this company (due to the reason that he already became a nuisance to my "oh what a wonderful day" unlike before he's the inspiration for me to go to work..) i would like to end this "walay padulngan.. nga pagbating giatay" since its also officially one year that we see each other since we are sort of wave mates.

just right after my end of shift at 6am, i started what are on my game plan:

** breakfast at mcDO
**trek from GMA 7 to Mahayahay peak and see the sunrise
**do the ritual of writing my crush's name and burn it on top of the mountain..
**swim
**then have a body massage

phew.. so that's how i manage to commemorate my official one year in this pseudo career--uhuh!

almost 24 hours widely awake, i tried to reminisce what i've been thru with this call center job. definitely it was one heck of a roller coaster ride.. from application, screening, panel interview, confirmation call, foundation training, another screening, client specs training, nesting and finally taking in gadamn calls.. and of course how can i forget all the laughs, bonding moments and triumphs that we have on this company. the fun fridays, GA dinner and summer/winter escapades that we usually have. somehow one year was worth staying here. and i doubt if i reach the second year since i don't want to neglect the possibility of exploring somewhere else for there will always be a greener pasture across the field. another reason for that would be the fact that most of my colleagues are resigning gradually..

so i better savor the moments while im here and
splatter all those beads of memories,

one of these da'ys,
on a placid lake
under a sakura tree.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

one year, three months and please... keep on counting'

skimming thru bite magazine. i tried to check what would be brewing on the upcoming saturday night. it would be our monthsary, so we are so lucky to find out that there will be a choir on that very night.

the invocation and pambansang awit was performed by little children from REACH.. there so cute and fragile to listen to. one of them, whom JUlio and I fond noticing of, is a little girl who didn't sing at all, instead she look at the audience with a face of bewilderment (as what i suppose to think was that she didn't memorize the lyrics so she keep on gaping her mouth as to lip sync and pretend that she's singing with her company) but she really looks cute and vulnerable nonetheless. then there also this two brothers who happen to be "chinoy mestizos" whose voices are so angelic. the younger brother closes his eyes once he sings on his falsetto part.

then the celebrated choir companies: CEbu and REACH singing ambassadors do their rounds for this concert they entitled: Huyohoy

they started with Cebuano old favorite: Usahay. then they warm up with OPM love song entitled: "Minsang lang kita Iibigin".. after that they perform several songs and these are the ones i held my breath on: Bahay, Planting rice is no joke (an english version of "magtanim ay di biro" and "Ako si Rosas Pandan" (am not sure if this title is correct, it reminds me of Mdm. Hermosa pluck her guitar as she fond of singing this piece)

as the concert went on, they hum gospel songs, so full of worship and praises... uhuh'.. then they have this African primitive chant i think or is it Brazilian---i don't know but they have somebody who wear a mardi gras costume. then their finale are musical pieces which are sung mostly by star in a million finalists.. =)

Yen2x.. reunited

after the choir concert. a msge from Yen pops up on my LCD. its from Yen2. she txted me that she will drop by at mcDo jones with her bro. I can't wait to see her again and hug her tight. there's so much that we need to catch up with each other. so when we finally meet we cant stop our chit chat about the updates of her elusive life as a media personnel (she just came from KBP seminar together with Vera ), her newly found sweet heart, and our future get together.. (hmn hmn.. future laag someday..) our reunion didn't last that long. but the heavy cloud of missing her somehow thin out when i finally hugged and had a hearty talk with her (even along the highway). Yen will be back to Dumaguete the morning after we talked. i don't know when we gonna see each other again and when will be the "five" of us be together again.. for now, i keep on writing those whimsical encounters with people whom i keep crossing my fingers on that their paths intertwined with mine..

on love, that we call coffee

Julio and i have this ritual of drinking coffee on our monthsaries ( this time at Bo's ).. as what i posted on my older blogs.. i'm the cream, he would be the sugar.. and we'll be united in the coffee called love.


rage party

its been awhile since Julio and i ramp on clubs with eachother since we usually spent our weekends in his hometown. we went straight to mango square and chilled out at numero doce. I had absolute vodka while he got absolute kurant to lift our "spirits" hehe. before, it is already sosyal to puff black butt and capri cigarettes. but now u can score it from a sidewalk takatak vendor while picking some judge chewing gum. im into house music while julio is into hip hop. so when i find him bored we flew to the nearby club, autobox.

party, party all night long. i saw a fuck buddy before, a gay pay whom i thought a hottie straight (whom i almost had an encounter with but was turned my green lights off when i knew the ulterior motive behind his modus operandi) then had a text message from a long time virtual crush that if we could meet tonight.. but duh.. i shruged it all off, i got my ultimate crush infront of me so what should i ask or lust for more?

we rode a cab home cuddling and make love silently as the whole world went to deep slumber.

Friday, September 21, 2007

Bjork "Who is it" Live @ Parma Italy

pang! it gives me goosebump (through out the whole song)! bjork, maboang naku nimo.. i raise my arms to thee.. =)


i simply adore bjork!

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

weekend patrol

somebody told me weekend should always start on saturday. i would like to defy on that. nowadays, weekend starts on friday nights. there so much gigs and party around, that the whole crowd cant wait to let a day pass by. after a long long week of struggling due to life's own pressure, the city is vibrant of individuals bursting into complete scherzo. some are jumping and sing there lungs out infront of a rock star, some are drinking and drowning there hearts while a lady vocalist doing her sentimental ballad. there are also some who masks their own dilemma with their laughter as a stand up comedienne crack his jokes for the nth time and some wash themselves with vodka and fly with laser lights as house music beat their eardrums. while others are contented on puffing cigarette and marvel how smokes swirl on a heavy air.

for that, im always deprived of that 'freaky friday'... 'friday night fever'... 'friday fly day'... since i am catering to my customer's dilemma, who happen to be in the other side of the globe. call it pacific time, mountain, central or eastern standard time, still they are about half day late to our local time. blessed be the beer that i should have been gulping now. kalouy..

but hey just this recent friday night. during my lunch break. my ka-brews are at the outpost. they texted me and tease me to join them. thinkin' that i only have 58 minutes left after i read their msge, i gather the power vested upon me and speed towards the outpost. i hail a motor cycle and be like "tomb raider" and walah'.. just a minute or two im at the place and find myself drinking and giggling with my friends.. cool! savoring the moment and try to party through eternity. and hmn, i cant wait to press my butt to that bean bag that was advertised in BITE magazine.

after that, speed back to the office, be like "tomb raider" again, and i even log in a minute earlier my lunch break is due.. whoa! whatta f***! im still a vigilant agent after that explosive break.

***

Saturday

afternoon

sleep about 5 hours. wake up from a dream (about bjork;2nd time around) and prepare myself for a hosting bluff. and guess what, its for a kiddie party. My colleague's daughter turns one year old and she planned for a kiddie party in their house and she picked me to host the event. the theme was "Dora the Adventurera". Excited for the idea of being with kids again (they are one of my passion) so i have myself a lot of games and pakulo suited for that Spanish animated girl. since im at ease with this scenario, i was able to connect to the kids, become friends with them and did all that silly yet heart melting tasks. they all thanked me with their smile and hugs as the party come to an end. after that i sing along with the videoke machine they brought on their patio.

evening

heavy rain wont stop me from spending my weekend into a higher notch. from kiddie shirt to an ink black polo, i suit myself and made my way to ayala where i met chai for a theater play: "Doon Po sa Amin" Onofre Pagsanghan's acclaimed adaptation of renowned piece "Our Town" by Thornton Wilder. it flashes back on what i saw last time in Bantawan--- as Chai and Vera also became a part of this stage play adaptation of the original version way way years back. As what Chai told me and i do agree, it has the same "heavy feeling" each time the play is about to end when Emily relive (in the midst of the tombs) those moments when she is still alive.

chai went to Turtle's nest, have a meeting with X.O.? and there she will meet russ. as i dropped to asia town i.t. park and grab donuts while walking around with Regina Spektor sighs with her "carbon monoxide" "aquarious" and "ode to divorce"... have dinner, surf the net, then settle at coffee bean/tea leaf and read Murakami.

When i finished my coffee, the crowd is thinning out. slouching alone and uncomfortable with the guard whose eying on my already empty grande sized paper cup. i have this surge of uneasyness and dying to get out of this place, but i already informed chai and russ that i will just wait here and thinkin they're probably about to come. so i keep on burrying my nose on my paperback and stayed. on that same moment, a net acquaintance txted me that he's in the Loft and he's half drunk. txted him back that im just sitting nearby from where he is. the possibility of meeting for the first time with this guy is as pressing as the barista wait for a new customer to drop by. an echo a stain.

midnight comes..

at last chai and russ together with his buddy arrived. we chat, munch on white toblerone and blueberry muffins. russ and i have this "walang kamatayang" discussion about bjork. we talk animatedly about her performance, her rawness, her videos, and how visceral she is. i even told him that i dreamt about her again earlier and he was saddened to know that in my dream, he wasn't able to watch her live due to parental constraint. hmn.. tsk2.. still that was 'just' a dream or rather that was --bjork! in my dream! how vivid it was on my dream how she perform and i feel her nearness to the extend i could feel her breath, i smell her sweat. for both russ and i, she's totally a living legend. an echo a stain.

another msge receive. *im heading there * apple green polo, khaki trousers * ...ok, comming * black polo, dark tight jeans *
ei..
hi..
a three minute passerby. three minutes on how to say my casual spiel. a three minute to made up my mind not to hook up with this guy. exactly three minutes and im back with my friends. a three minute taming.

again, russ (while his buddy is half asleep on his shoulder) and i talk, while chai immersed herself on what she's reading..

.. Sunday

dawn

pack my things up. meet my colleagues in IT park and hit down south. we're heading towards Moalboal.

morning

put my goggles on and don my rash guard (given by Julio) we snorkel on the vast array of corals and sea creatures.


dusk about to swallow the sun..

more than 24 hours on the move, i still manage to go to Danao and experience their annual fiesta with Julio.

here ends another weekend.

Saturday, September 15, 2007

when you're almost done



and when you're almost done
create a hole that could swallow million lights within me
so that even when you're away---
even if i'm left on this darkest pit,

i will glow among
the water lilies
who failed to bloom on the surface.

barrier

recently gone from blog hopping, i notice there are alot of bloggers who are definetely good writers. specially those who have a good command either in english, filipino or cebuano. i have observed that their thoughts just flows smoothly on their pages and they are so easy to read and comprehend. i tried to attain such fluency in writing or speaking. i tried to ask myself what language i am knowledgeable of or better still-- which i am comfortable to. but what i've found out to myself, is that im not typically certain which language to use since im not "vocal" or an "expressive" type of person before (or until now..).


i remmember growing up having pets, i got a dog named "sherlocke" and a jar of aquatic fishes. i also tend a garden when im young. im not use to speak nor write since i usually stay in my garden trying to tend a newly transferred orchid, or trying to take care of a dying rose (which i find hard to take care with). i wait until dusk to see a bud bloom into a flower (ground orchids and bulbs family do that since they usually bloom when its not totaly hot). early as 4:30am i usually wake up and walk towards an old bakery with my dog (he loves going with me since there are alot of times when bread accidentally fell off from the shelve and there you go, my dog got a free meal). then in the morning, i go to the beach to fetch "fresh" salt water to change my sort of mini-jar-aquarium to oxiginate the water since there's no airator available in our market that time (kung baga "dili uso sa among probinsya". beside, i only got a mayonnaise jar for an aquarium so murag sosyal ra kaau if i got an airator). im just glad to feel them; to see them grow, and keep taking care of them. i got this interconnectivity with them and i feel comftable with that.

so to trimmed it down, i grew up mostly with non speaking-living-things..

but i don't say that i really have this weird childhood. i also have childhood friends. although i had close friends but for a short span of time since my family move alot from one location to another at that time (due to unknown reason which until now i can't figure out) so again it boils down to be constantly with these "non speaking-living-things"..

so now, i must confess i have a hard time trying to communicate some times. like my thoughts are like a sack of salt with a congested hole on it. it's hard for me to express in words what i feel, i think or imagine about. words are even come short of its primal function when i have this idea or experience that i want to suggest but run out of letter combination to describe it.

im so frustrated. that's why being an artist appeals to me. i want to paint, sketch, design and dance, dance, dance.. dancing is always my passion. i don't care about people might stereotyped me as a freaking gay when i do a dance interpretation with my ballerina dress. as long as i let the blood of artistry run through my veins and never supress them---or else it would turn me purple and rot inside.

for that, let me speak through my hands,
let ? (question mark)
! (exclamation point)
or . (period)
would be expressed thru the tension of my fingers
and not on how i grip a pen.

let my sentence flow with my fish net stockings
rugged tip-toe, pliƩ and arm sway
let ambigousity and spontaneity fluff with my tutu

so it fades from me the notion that if i only grow up with high school musical generation or if only im a certified sesame street child, i might have been well conversed and my accent could be nice =) haha. i don't want to be bitter here but i rather embrace my own flaws and speak the language that i am capable of and get rid the mental torture of being judged.

***

The words of language, as they are written or spoken, do not seem to play any role in my mechanism of thought. The physical entities which seem to serve as elements in thought are certain signs and more or less clear images.
-Albert Einstein (1879-1955) German-Swiss-U.S. scientist.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

post card from yen

friday night and most partyphiles are hitting the city clubs while here i am, crucifying myself for this "rewarding" job. im on my lunch break when i bump with vera and chai who are "dressed" for the night. they wore white tops. chai has this (ala goddess) venus cut plunging neckline while vera clad on sequined shimmery white tank. Friendship aside, i confess they really look lovely.. i flatter them with my compliments but ther scrub it off and rant of not having a "man" that they call their own.. tsk.. okhee.. im suppose to take my lunch here so we perch inside "da vinci's pizza".. after a wee minutes of deliberation on what we order among the white sauced pizza we prompt the service crew with our order: the specialty of the house w/c is "mona liyo" este monaliza haha we laugh about it as the girl dont have the idea why we modify the name of the pizza. as we chat about how fucking good, sad and cruel life is. chai gave me a postcard from yen (whose in dumaguete). She also have one for russ, chai and vera. we are quite amused on what yen wrote as dedication at the back of each postcard. and here's what yen wrote for me:

Liyow!!!

ako ng girl ha.

Ayaw jud huna-hunaa nga ikaw na.

hehehe

pero naa man pud ka.ikaw man ang sun. (laughs)

But kung di ka ganahan sa sun pwede pud ikaw ng planet.


love yah always,

Yen

as sweet as she is, Yen never fails to extend her wartmth and loveliness --- even how many miles away she is from us. She just never knew how much we would like to squeeeeze her tight' ...One by one first then as always, end it up with a group hug.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

"knowing there is only now.."

i find myself humming with this song lately. it's by Cynthia Alexander, i tried to post a video with this lyrics but failed to search it in youtube. it's been a long time since i post a song on my page, and this is worthy of my blog space.
...........................................................

here we stand

we know
it will always be
everything & nothing
between us
but space & silence
to begin with
tell me how it is to
love & live & be
no promises knowing
there is only now
knowing there is only now

as we walk away
out the door
welcome back reality
don't forget we smile knowing
there is only now

tell me how it is
to love & live & be
no promises knowing
there is only now
knowing there is only now
.................................................

the first time i hear this from my player was when i walk to a wet pavement along i2 (freshly drenched by the bygone rain) the piano is so lovely and Cynthia's voice comfort the restless soul within me. it makes me smile while walking along a crowd of strangers. passing through cars, passing through a cat trying to catch a mate. did these silly skip every now and then while reminiscing good memories i had with friends, with my significant other and also those time when i'm all by myself..

Monday, September 10, 2007

ode to the celebrant


file photo


like a sunset over the lake..
maybe,
or it may seems that
the sun that sets
is the dying flame that met the rays
of my heartache's arms.
basking..
embracing..
of a long gone love
that once sprung up
but chooses to kiss
the tinge line across surrender
and be forever drowned
in the cold murky waters..

how i yearn for the one who
greyed me out into shadows..
who---

keep me in the dusk.


-originaly post and edited 09/10/2004

i've been flirting again..

one boring night. those times when you can't find another soul whom you could relate to or share a bottle of beer with. chatting online always teases the hell out of me. and this time while drifting thru a sea of "searchees" and "walang magawa".. i spot my crush way way back in college years. and it stirs me up when our conversation goes like this:


04 Aug 2007, 02:06
Me: ei..i find u interresting..
04 Aug 2007, 02:07
Him: cool...

02:10
M: u remind me of a character in Murakami's book..=)
how are u?
02:14
H: Murakami's Book? Who could that be. I am not feeling so good. Been sick for the past 2 days. Until now actually. Fever and cough. I just hate it.

02:18
M: hmn, kalouy.. u might need a hug.. =) Norwegian wood, Turu's friend.. long story.. if im not mistaken u have this tatoo on ur foot..?=)
foot.. seems not a good term.. embarrasing
02:24
H: yeah. i have one. left ankle. how did you know? weird.

02:31
M: alryt, "ankle"that shud be the term..i have this strange sickness of running out of "suitable word".. i have the idea but can't blurt it right..hmn, so u must be the guy i keep on eyeing to then..(in the past) i hope ur still chubby.. =) giggles.bitaw, i just saw u in ayala,in the web and u kept on swimming on my head (in the past)
02:39
H: oh really now... chubby? me? i guess i am. what do you mean in the web in ayala? hahahaha... :-D

02:48
M: =) haha..there is no such thing as "web in ayala" what im trying to say is that i once saw u in ayala.. i was at bo's by then.. and i saw u in a web page.. like, the internet.. sorry walay koy klaro earlier.. haha.. =)so mao to, thats how i know u or rather saw u..at that time i keep on listening to bjork's: "i miss u.. (but i have'nt met u yet)
02:55
H: ahhhh... okies. i wonder what web page was that. the one wherein you saw me. ;-)

02:57
M: i dont wanna tell.. =)what keep u from goin to bed?i hope u wouldnt mind me asking.. =)
03:00
H: im working right now. even if im sick. the thought of me lying in bed having blank thoughts will drive me nuts. i think the web page was from my friend *****. (web name). if i am not mistaken.

03:06
M: u bet.. hmn, mao ba? kuyawa gud.. u must be an asset to the company.. saludo ko' =)when im sick, i usually drag myself to a nearby mountain; or if im lucky enough-- to the beach.. i feel better that way=)
03:08
H: well... that is your idea of remedy. but for me, i need to keep myself busy. hahay... it's the only way that can keep me going. if im doing something. ;-)

03:10
M: whoa.. ok.. maau, atleast productive.. i might be a disturbance sa imo work ron.. pasensya,,
03:12
H: and why are you still up? huh? ;-) i don't think you're working or something.

03:15
M: its a funny story, i went to work earlier but only to find out that my SIL was approved.. i didnt receive any confirmation that my application was approved so i thought i need to work my ass around.. now,here i am, waiting for the morning bus.i'll be heading north this 4am
03:19
H: heading north? but why? what's in there? ;-)

03:22
M: wla lang.. maybe to unwind.. weekend.. pahungaw.. =)whats the usual weekend for you..
03:30
H: usual weekend? drunk, wasted, either at loft or vudu, go home and puke, then sleep the entire day. woke up with a hang over. massage, coffee, movie, dinner. then back to work. boring routine. hehehehehe...
;-) where man ka sa north? or maybe you're joining the eb party no?

03:34
M: cute.. i find that unusually wonderful.. its like, letting urself be dead and ressurrect the next day. interresting.. =) eb party? (with a blank face) i dont have any idea.. im heading towards bantayan.. my hometown.. although dili ko mouli sa amoa, taman ra ko sta fe. i guess.. come what may..i just want to get lost for a moment.
03:43
H: hey! i wanna visit bantayan again. take me there. will you? please please please... i was in panglao lang last weekend. and i wanna go to bantayan again. hehehehhe...

03:46
M: =) cute.. what do u mean.. like, this morning? u want to go to bantayan..serious?although how i wish u could but u must be kidding.. tsk3x
03:47
H: maybe next weekend. basta... i will go there. hehehehehe... not today. i'm sick and not feeling well. right? ;-) and im not kidding about going to bantayan. im serious about it.

03:54
M: alryt.. cool.. thats great.. however, i wish i could at least see u again soon, at that time in bantayan.. hehe just wishful thinkin.. i might give u a rub since u like being massaged and i pretty know how.. sigh....
03:59
H: awww.... that's so nice of you. ;-) you can see me anytime. that can always be arranged. right?

04:06
Y: whoa.. cool.. really now.. yeah, we could like talk over coffee sometimes.. then i could lend u my murakami's short stories..here's my contact #... i couldnt believe this.. =)
04:10
H: and why on earth you could not believe this? hehehehehe... here is my number #... **** here. And you are? Real name please.

04:15
M: Liyo po..=) haha..good day mr. ****.. im just glad to have u on my screen..its already beyond four, i must be in the terminal to catch the early bus.. have a great weekend.sail on..
04:20
H: have a safe trip and you enjoy your weekend! see ya soon. ;-)


........................

days, weeks and a month after.. i have'nt heard from him since then. i have this on my draft all these times.. i try to keep it from my hubby and haven't told him about this. i was having this wishful thinking that maybe, maybe those aforementioned sweet nothings might still going to happen since i really like him for a long time.. like i was still clutching my canvass and paint brushes by then when i had a huge crush on him.

but i feel so immature trying to hold on to something that really not meant to happen. like Betty Boop after a long senseless day, i might as well play the piano (if i only knew how) and play a tune for my puppy.

Sunday, September 09, 2007

Cynthia Alexander live at Outpost!



my tongue rolled back and my eyes seems to pop up.. i usually have this sort of body reaction every time i feel so wonderfully euphoric. i could feel myself flying as i run towards McDo from Outpost. i can't contain myself from being ecstatic.

earlier, just a few minutes ago, i saw, i heard and hugged Cynthia Alexander..

mixture of Arabian bonggo, dissonant keyboard.. ethereal voices.. Cynthia's tracks are guaranteed to be a certified arms opener. vera, me and of course chai (whose love for Cynthia is insurmountable) are just inches away from her. it was like MTV unplugged. an intimate performance of a renowned artist.

a band of three. its quite surprising that their layering technique makes their music seems to be composed of a full ensemble of musicians. Cynthia's mastery on plucking her guitar makes her in full control with her instrument. as if the rhythm of the strings is already a part of her system.

one notable music critic says:

"..Cynthia Alexander's acoustic-based sound brims with intelligence and subtle daring. Alexander's music is often delicately arranged, following sinuous and innovative paths. "

she never fails to give me a cringe. my skin tingles on most of her tracks. so the moment the reverberation of the guitar fades on her last song for that night, i can't help but go near her and hug her. i whisper my compliments while sniffing her aura. my book fell and it spills her water to a live wire that it cause a blasting sound of a short circuit. instead of worrying about that "blast off" Cynthia did manage to ask me whose the author of the book. i was holding "the wind-up bird chronicle" by Murakami by then. and she gave me a recognizing smile.. i can't define what i've just felt at that time. i was so caught up by the moment that i went trough the crowded place and go out to an open space and run like a dog who just get himself a piece of bone. that was a heck of an experience for me as a newly declared Cynthia Alexander fan.. for sure, i'll fill my mp3 collection with her songs. and to Outpost, it was incredible that they able to invite great artist over and let the whole place become a living legend for the thriving art scene in Cebu.

one happy moment. =)

Thursday, September 06, 2007

while your asleep



calm
your body lay naked
in the canopy of sheets
gently i squeezed in
to be cuddled and kept warm
steady breathing make your chest
raise up and sink back again
while my blood goes from lowtide to hightide
musty; your skin smells of old log,
heavy yet hazy.
without inhibition, my eyes wander
through the physical landscape of yours.
doing so,
it cast a faint smile on my face.

I let your arms wraped around me
'til my limbs go numb.
bodies congruent to eachother
head to foot, chest to chest;
through this, my heart could
freely resonate love spells with yours.

let me whisper on your ears then.
let me speak the language
that only few can dare speak of.
am not shy this time,
nor feeling timid.
so let me gently squeezed in
to be cuddled and kept warm---
while your asleep.

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

ang paglilitis ni mang Serapio

thinking that i was late, i try to run my way through the
crowded mall (end of the month sale at sm). finally, i made my way to the theater alleys. i'm quite aghast the moment i entered the cinema when bunch of "taong grasa" are littered around the whole place. they are among the throng of student actors in USC theater guild. dressed in shabby clothes, filthy make-up, which are totally in complete character. then one of the "taong grasa" whispered something to them and one by one they drag themselves inside the curtain and she scream "Paglilitis!"


curtain up.. and the whole stage was exposed. mountain of rubbish piled up like a scene in Payatas dumpsite and the lights are just enough to create an ominous ambiance. The plot itself is interesting. the whole duration of the stage play runs from 45min to an hour and  i've never been interrupted the whole time. so iguess, i was completely absorbed from what i'm seeing as there was no dead air, no sullen moment. the introduction of each vital character was vividly done. the presence of the elements in a plot (conflict, crisis.climax and denouement or resolution) were present. in addition, i like the stage blocking. the director undeniably know which character have to be given importance in this play. it was really crazy, and most of these main actors are quite impressive.. even the extras.. they all have attained that 360 degrees characterization. one of the supporting actress, who somehow reminds me of that little cerebral palsy girl in Magnifico do this weird, tensioned body movement the whole time.. and another one (who happen to be one of my trainee in a dance workshop before) just sat down and be "tameme"---that's all. and the rest are as equally fine as the main performers..


i must say that the whole production is really good.


the Filipino ingenuity through theater would still continue to breath and live as long as there are still gutsy performance artists doing it and eventuallu more audience will appreciate it. and im quite happy that this sort of artistic ecosystem (um biology class? ikaw ba yan?) is in equilibrium specially here in Cebu.
kudos to all of the cast and the people behind the scene.. job well done.

...........................

"tayo na inay, tapos na ang paglilitis" sabi ng anak sa kanyang walang ka muwang muwang na ina. nakatulala at wala sa sarili, siya'y dahandahang tumayo at lumakad pauwi sa kanilang dampa. hindi alam o baka tameme lang sa tabi, nang hatulan si Mang Serapio sa pag-aaruga ng bata...


wagas


"magaling" naisabi ko sa aking sarili paglabas ko pagkatapos ng dula.. ako'y talagang namangha at hindi nabuwisit.



Ang Paglilitis
sa panulat ni PAul Dumol
sa direksyon ni Loyd Sato

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