StarvingHystericalNaked

2006-03-20T07:24:00.000-08:00

"I'm not the captain of Team Fun right now." - Andy Roddick. Just love quoting this guy.

2006-03-15T04:40:00.000-08:00

Found my childhood trunk the other day. It used to be full of toys all the hacienda kids were so envious of. But it has become keeper of my father's junk, rusty electrical thingamajigs and whatnot since I left the hacienda. I had to ask it back from him. Did something with it, so now it lies there in my room, newly-painted but still possessing the old world charm that decades of scrapes and bumps had created. It lies there, empty. I plan to feed it with new toys, stuff that I have collected lately from my adventures. It must have been very hungry for those kinds of things.

2006-03-11T14:36:00.000-08:00

Saturday In A Box: An Autopsy

Naah, it's not worth it.

2006-03-08T15:14:00.000-08:00

Attended my uncle's funeral last Sunday. I felt sad and all, with everybody crying their bladders out, but I couldn't get myself to shed a tear. It's twisted because I know at that time I felt bad about Federer losing to Nadal over the weekend. When I got home that Sunday, I also caught myself crying over Goin' Bulilit's 1st anniversary and farewell to two kids graduating from the show.

This made me recall a part of the book, Like Water for Chocolate. About how some things in life could ignite and extinguish all the match sticks you have been carrying inside you since you were born. I am afraid I only have a few sticks left. No, what I am really afraid of is that I might have used up some of my sticks for insignificant things.

2006-03-03T06:19:00.000-08:00

I visited the hacienda of my childhood a few days ago. From afar, when the tricycle was approaching what seemed to be just a patch of cauliflowers on a wide, wide field of sugarcane, the hacienda looked small. The mango trees looked small. Heck, even the Balay Daku seemed to have gotten smaller.

I entered the Balay Daku looking for Nanay Sima, my mom's friend who used to take care of me when I was small and is now the caretaker of the house that was once a "forbidden castle" for me. I went in and upstairs. Nanay Sima was not there. God, the drawers and cabinets were tempting. I opened one in the dresser and found an old book of poetry. Weird, but I had not even the slightest of desire to steal it. I left it there just as how I left the hacienda. As is.

I vowed to go back though. The stories are waiting.

2006-02-28T18:00:00.000-08:00

If I could take you away
I'll bring you with me to Italy.
We'll deconstruct Rome in a day,
erase myths and rewrite history.

2006-02-07T17:01:00.000-08:00

I want you to sing this song
When I'm about to close my body
From here to where I belong
For tonight, for eternity.

Across the Universe by The Beatles

Words are flowing out
like endless rain into a paper cup,
They slither while they pass,
they slip away
across the universe
Pools of sorrow, waves of joy
are drifting through my opened mind,
Possessing and caressing me.

Jai guru de va om

Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world

Images of broken light
which dance before me
like a million eyes
that call me on and on
across the universe,
Thoughts meander
like a restless wind
inside a letter box
they tumble blindly
as they make their way
across the universe

Jai guru de va om

Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world

Sounds of laughter, shades of earth
are ringing through my open ears
inciting and inviting me
Limitless undying love
which shines around me
like a million suns,
it calls me on and on
across the universe

Jai guru de va om

Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world

Jai guru de va, jai guru de va
Jai guru de va, jai guru de va
Jai guru de va

Jai guru de va, jai guru de va

2006-02-03T16:59:00.000-08:00

Red Balloons

This is no longer a game. We both know that. We should know. We are in it. The two of us. Just the two of us. And yet, it feels so crowded here. We cannot hear each other. Or look at each other straight in the eye. We are trapped inside two separate red balloons.

This is no longer a game. We both know that. We should know. We do not live by the rules anymore. The two of us. No more rules. Nor tricks. But there are walls everywhere. No chance of escape. There is no room for breathing ..........

No, this could not be a game. We cannot hear each other. There are no more rules. No chance. Nor tricks. Just walls. And a pair of balloons wanting, waiting to be pricked.

But we could never look at each other straight in the eye.

2005-10-27T16:48:00.000-07:00

Hell isn't a dump for sinners where they writhe in the flames, and shout in agony while tortured by demons. Hell is a room, dark and flooded with tears. Hell is a boy with pain for a soul. Hell is empty, desolate and starving. Hell is a dead heart. Hell is my home. -- said a boy to me this morning.

2005-10-26T10:42:00.000-07:00

Be wise Be smart Behave my heart. - Jamie Cullum, Too Close for Comfort

2005-10-25T17:04:00.000-07:00

Scared I am no more.

2005-10-14T01:56:00.000-07:00

One year, and I have come full circle, I guess. It has been quite a ride, Cebu. Now, I'm off to run around another city. Gotta bounce.

2005-10-10T10:54:00.000-07:00

Allow me to be Frank

I'm listening to Sinatra again. And it doesn't make me want to cry anymore. Well, except for It Was a Very Good Year, which I have been trying to skip since the first time I heard it. Such a depressing song.

Now, if I could only sit through the whole Robbie Williams' Swing When You're Winning album.

2005-10-08T13:07:00.000-07:00

I like this. Hope it would last. At least until March. I really like this.

2005-10-04T21:00:00.000-07:00

Please stop lying.

2005-09-29T08:50:00.000-07:00

Sorry, Mr. Gaiman

Neil Gaiman, author of Coraline (an interesting book I have yet to read), has said: "Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like "maybe we should be just friends" turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love."

Naah, sorry, Mr. Gaiman. If you told me that three days ago, I would have bought it. But now, bleh. I'm so much in love again. And I don't care anymore. Scared, yes. Stupid, no. I'm giving my all this time.

Hope to see ya though when I'm bleeding in pain again. Hehe. Until then, keep that I-told-ya face away from me.

2005-09-27T17:10:00.000-07:00

Lalalalalalalalalies

Listening to Black Eyed Peas' Don't Lie (No no no no no no no no don't lie) really makes me smile. I have learned that lies can be very powerful, especially in tearing you to pieces. And it doesn't end there. Each time something reminds you that you have been lied to, an unknown creature gnaws your flesh from the inside. You know what's worse than a lie? The liar smiling about it.

2005-09-19T17:00:00.000-07:00

Everything seems to both scare and arouse me nowadays.

2005-09-10T08:30:00.000-07:00

Pasta in Paris

Friday night. Tuna fettuccine in white sauce. Ground basil leaves. Vintage cheese. Crackers. Coke in classy little glasses. Singing a French girl's waltz accompanied by a guitar. Light talk. Sure this is going to be a nice weekend.

Saturday. Work in the morning. Free time in the afternoon. Mass. Badminton in the evening. Looks like a great sked.

Sunday. Mass. Meeting in the morning. Beach gathering in the afternoon. Wait, wait. Lord, Lord can you slip in some tennis in between my Saturday and Sunday? Please, please. I know the universe has been extra doting to me lately, but Federer is in the semis, Clijsters and Pierce in the women's finals. Please pull some strings dear God Almighty. Send me a kind person with cable television. Please, please glorious Creator of all things bright and beautiful, all creatures great and small.

I have been a good child bitaw.

2005-09-06T04:53:00.000-07:00

Just when I told my insomniac self not to ask me to sing it to sleep, here comes Julie Delpy asking me to let her sing me a waltz, out of nowhere, out of her thoughts.

2005-09-03T23:49:00.000-07:00

Never ask me
to sing you
to sleep.