GRAY AREA: January 2009

The following entries are blog posts i have made through the years and have been published in a different site (which i'd rather not mention, thank you very much). Maybe for lack of coverage, push, eager beavers or plain lack of readership interest (that other profile is in private mode and i've got no choice!), i have decided to give my blogging life a new lease on life (recuperation is the word) by doing just this. At least i won't have to worry about privacy settings here. :)

Facebook My Arse: The History of Jologs

January 13th, 2009 by martingeneral

finally, after a verrry torturous signing up process (they thought my surname was definitive of a product or whatever!) and a not-so-short loitering behind the dull pc monitor for a snail confirmation, i can already declare myself an official facebook member.

at first, i was quite hesitant to go through the signing up mill again. yes, i had my 1st try, which was in early 2008, and it wasn’t pretty. the facebook team initially had to bombard me with their so-called surname verification. it sucked that i swore not to enter the word “facebook” in the url line again.

being the stubborn “spinster” that i was, i even thought, hey, i was no advocate of social network fanaticism that i had to have more than three of these networks to satisfy me.

at that time i even got 4: friendster, hi5, tagged and multiply (excluding those i intentionally scrapped).

it was that mind-boggling that i even had a stupid debate with my sister, who apparently was the world’s biggest facebook defender. it was a celebrated battle between the then facebook newbie (her) and the then friendster loyalist (me).

my argument 1: who cares if friendster is now becoming (or has become) a haven of people with poor taste (for the lack of a more appropriate phrase)? it’s just like valentine’s. everybody joins in but just because of the surge of people from the less fortunate classes of society on the 14th, the ones from the upper ranks do it on the 15th, 16th or earlier just to evade the oh-so-dreadful possibilities of association. but for the love of havaianas or havanas, everbody still celebrates it! do the analogy.

my argument 2: the fact (or presumed fact) that facebook has not yet reached the conscious level of those people with poor taste is not enough guarantee of facebook’s permanent place in the kingdom of cool.

it’s just like norah jones, rihanna or sean kingston… or america’s next top model, rhythm ‘n’ blues or those good ole baller IDs… once you (your “FEELING COOL” self) encounter, say, a pedicab driver donning, humming, aping or just plainy knowing these stuff, you cringe because what you thought were “cool” were now suddenly a property also of this “uncool, jologish” person. and you don’t want to be “uncool or jologish” so you end up hating gradually those things which once upon a time you could easily exchange for your soul. ain’t that stupid? just like friendster and facebook after 2 years maybe.

i just find it quite weird that people foster eliticism out of social networks.

but, viola! i am now a facebook member… officially. ain’t that ironic? it only proves i am still a member of this judgmental and influential (or easily influenced) society… and being social requires social networks to survive.

stupid…

i know. :p

postscript: those with facebook accounts, add me up! that’ll be so cool. hahaha. oh, yes, i still think i’ve won that debate.

The Quarter-of-a-Century Syndrome

December 20th, 2008 by martingeneral

one question: is everybody getting married/having a child nowadays or am i just a 25-year old hermit who has no one to get hitched with or to have a tryst with? my gut tells me it’s the latter. boohoo.

minutes ago, i was looking at the pictures of a college friend’s newly born baby girl. days ago, i was chatting with an ex and the conversation had marriage all over it (too bad, it wasn’t between the two of us. ouch.) weeks ago, i was invited to a friend’s bridal shower (yes, doofus, not a stag party!) and my ass was just too horrified to take the 9-hour ride to the big city. months ago, i was uploading photos of my first nephew and the captions were all screaming “uncle” martin! i never felt older.

yes, i did. argh. not to mention that my sister was crafting this video presentation of hers for days and the slides had images of pretty faces (the “before”) and just, uhm, enhanced ones (the “after”)… though the word “enhanced” wouldn’t be appropriate if i were to consider the fact that some of those pretty faces weren’t technically enhanced, but uglified. i never thought tara reid had wrinkled abs!

looking at those pictures made me realize that in a few years or decades (i just so hope!), i’ll be looking like one of those pictures - only less enhanced. i can’t afford a plastic surgery, financially and psychologically. but that’s just my 25-year old self talking… or blogging.

now, back to pregnancies and matrimonies. like i said, seems like everybody is throwing bridal showers or sharing cakes in a reception hall or having anxiety attacks in emergency rooms or just giving birth… while i am giving birth to a beer belly and an eruption of cigarette rashes. welcome to the world, belly and rash.

last night i was even reprimanded - or nearly banished - by my father for being a lost teenybopper trapped in an aging man’s body (that’s my favorite “thought for the decade” from him).

8 sets of christmas lights all plastered on the garden plants were stolen and he was blaming me for such loss. i was the only man in the house and i should have been more vigilant, he was saying as i was trying my hardest to swallow barbecued meat and atchara at 9:30 in the evening. never tasted that bitter. and let me add: i wasn’t the only man in the house! not to be outdone, he also lambasted my ears for being addicted to loud music and brokendown ipod earphones instead of soft music from law books and brokendown codals. happy, happy, joy, joy, indeed.

thinking that i was being again bullied to be the scapegoat (the dogs didn’t bark and the house isn’t that small for my senses to detect everything that was happening at least in the garden!), i grabbed my chucks and dressed as fast as i could remember. i hurried past the front gate, panted, and made my escape… but not that easy, dork. my beloved father was there, still investigating and apparently still boiling. i braced myself for more ranting - and, boy, was that ranting really a ranting…

to cut the story short, i made it to mudbugs still in one piece but i felt like a whole box of billiard balls just hit my scrotum. aray.

so there: for two hours i was a bitter ass who just drank and smoked. my friends listened to my story and just laughed as if my loser episode was worth as much as inday garutay’s. i was pissed off but i later realized that i was only being an hole in the ass. (just a quickie: i only discovered recently that you need an “an” for an “h”).

as i was making my way home i realized that maybe it was just me, a man who treasures his childhood - and irresponsiblity - in a world that tolerates childishness only until one’s circumcission….and, oh, yes, there are also marriages and child rearing to do.

i’m going there… just give me 25 more years.

Single

December 18th, 2008 by martingeneral

yes, world, i am - for almost 3 years. 3 long, bitter and impatient years.

(okay, you can stop laughing now. even i can’t decode this fact with a straight face.)

3 years… there were days when i longed for even the slightest of touches but had to settle for an over-sized feather pillow. no touches there, thank you very much. and how could i not forget the seconds i found myself in… just staring at a couple in the corner of a coffee shop… the grin, the flicker, then the spark? but i had none of those, i thought, as i slowly retreated to my meltdown and my also melting java frost.

i was okay for a while. uhm, “a while” means weeks after i finally got over the reality that my last partner (yes, for the lack of a better word) just found something better or livelier to do or to be with (depending on which side of the spectrum you’re looking at).

it took me almost 4 months (or 6… but who’s counting?) to get over such shakespeare-an tragedy. it was that loooooooong. friends tell me that the average time one dumpee has to go through to get over the dumping is 1/2 the number of months or years the parties have been together. so mathematically, i should have been having my mardi gras 2 months and 3 days after that break-up. but then again, who’s counting?

what mattered to me were really the reasons why i had to be dumped and why so sudden. but frankly, those were the days when my bitterness level was way beyond the limits. i don’t care now anymore… okay, maybe a little. haha. but really, i don’t care anymore.

now, you may ask, why - in the name of gloria gaynor’s surviving skills - am i blogging this? wala lang, mau lang, nada, nothing. maybe it’s the siberian cold or the lack of something better to do at 11 in the morning or just maybe i’ve finally figured out that i’ve been a semi-virgin for almost a quarter of a decade! hallelujah!

but i ain’t proud of that. there were times, uhm, plenty of times, when i insanely imagined myself being humped again against the bed and being devoured by an insatiable predator. oooh. wahaha. joke.

for months, i’ve been contemplating the reasons behind my status quo. how did i ever reach this place? my friends had answers. i had some, too. but the mirror had the most convincing. wahaha. but seriously, i was just too damn afraid to take the risk again of falling in someone else’s pit and just keep on falling, falling and falling… and not to be seen again… until that thunderous stab telling me i’m a moron.

yes, victoria, i don’t want to be a moron again. i just want to be who i am: an arrogant, frustrated, skeptical, pessimistic, paranoid chicken-shit. joke.

but frankly, being single is not that bad. after all, there are not so stupid reasons: 1) i can have the whole basket of fries without asking for an extra sachet of catsup; 2) i can go through a day without an unlimited text service; 3) i can reach 25 without the idea of having or adopting kids lingering in my not-so-complacent mind for more than 5 minutes; and 4) i can take my feet anywhere without worrying about anybody playing with paranoia. that doesn’t make sense, does it?

conclusively, that thing you call “single-blessedness” could not have been invented if such wasn’t a blessing… and i’m sticking to that - for now.

So Gay

just watched “crash” last night and i got nothing but praises for the movie… well, at least until 5 minutes after the credits stopped rolling and ludacris’ urban rants had been, uhm, pacified.

i liked the film’s rawness and fast-paced presentation. it was as if i ordered spaghetti with meatballs and what i got was hardly boiled pasta, sliced tomatoes and fresh-from-the-butcher-shop meat, with no cheese, in 30 seconds!

the acting was superb. i think the black guy, who played thandie newton’s husband, was nominated for a supporting role in the oscars but lost to an old guy… wait, let me google that…

i’m back! my mistake. it was matt dillon who got nominated and he’s not even black. stupid me.

anyway, the black guy’s name is terrence howard. he only got a nomination from the chicago film critics association… but he was still good, if you’d ask me. if i were an award-giving body, i would have even given him three trophies. the two would be for his brawling skills (he was the only guy i’d seen having an undertaker vs. shawn michaels reenactment with ludacris!) and, uhm, for his crying expertise (if there’s such an allusion or phrase!). his tears were like semi-invisible orgasms - seemingly inconspicuous and unconsummated but you knew they were there. brilliant. haha.

going back to my first few sentences of this blog entry (i always tend to be disorganized, thank you very much): yes, my raves did end after the credits and the ludacris’ parental advisory-infested record.

in a second, i was transported to the kodak theater (in 2005!). i was in a chinese man’s… wait, taiwanese man’s body huddled on the front seat and my name was ANG LEE! (yes, the one who turned eric bana into a green piece of temperamental dodgeball and, yes again, the very sane guy who made zhang ziyi a stripper from the tang dynasty! hen hao! haha!)

i was in the oscars! good grief!

then, like thunderbolts zapped from zeus’ armpits, the best picture award was announced and it was handed to “crash,” shocking the gay-unfriendly (or very gay-friendly) crowd and even enlightening the blind!

wtf?! brokeback mountain didn’t get the trophy? in the name of gloria gaynor and lilo (that’s lindsay lohan)! and i even thought oscar was gay!

crash! i was back in my room… in naga city… yes, in the philippines. crash! i felt like i was hit by gloria macapagal-arroyo’s garapata wart and mike arrroyo’s brokeback, er, broken ass. ouch… and what was that stench?

“brokeback mountain” should have won! and now heath ledger is dead! after all, the mountains are way better than the urban slums of los angeles! there are no sheep, nude bathing and gay cowboys in that city (of course, that was an exaggeration.. an utter lie. steven seagal is a los angeles resident, you know. haha.)! and i’ve got to shout it out after 3 damn years!!!

frankly, i was not saying that for personal reasons… only for the empowerment of individualistic standpoint. i would be so gay had i been blogging those words, uhm, on a personal level. now, stop laughing… and… where’s my tutu?

toink.

Law School Hellfire: Part III

October 16th, 2008 by martingeneral

this week is killing me. piece after piece, my organs are dropping like crazy…

first, there was the memorandum i almost failed to mail on the day of the deadline (after being stupidly reprimanded by the supervising lawyer and made to wait for almost 3 hours of utter desperation on a lowly bench in ust). second, the loss of a quasi-prospective cardiac future (but that’s another story and what am i talking about, anyway???) then came the news that had me completely shattered and almost out of hope’s circulation: my commercial law review midterms result! ****** **a! score ba ‘un?! waaaaaah…

now, it seems like i’m half-dead: lying like a rotten radish on a hospital bed, dependent on a lonesome tube and droplets of fading life. where’s my miracle?

Law School Hellfire: Part II

October 13th, 2008 by martingeneral

first things first: so there is something hotter than hell and the apartment room at 1 in the afternoon of a regular, blazing Manila setting.

what is it, you may ask? it isn’t your ass when such is plastered on a seat for 5 hours non-stop while vainly listening non-stop (again… and, uhm, are you really listening?) to your nonsensical executor/professor from the school of cradle rock (read: lullaby). it isn’t Jolie or Pitt either. (though you can easily cook and even burn eggs on their thick lips and chiseled buttocks - for the love of carcinogen and perversion!)

so what is it then?

if you were me, i’d say it’s the ipod phone which i’ll tragically never have… except maybe if some stupid benefactor gives me one. (please? )

kidding aside, it’s law school and the inferno it brings to my now overly melted and withered self-esteem. (wow, i had those pala, in fairness to my eternally confident skeptics. )

aaarrrgh! why do i have to try again, again, again and again? and why do i have to stress myself over supposed “nothings” again, again, again, again and again?

there i was: still, pacified, optimistic and hopeful. it was as if i had my fingers already tickling the knob corner of the doors that led to my vague yet easily anticipated so-called purpose-driven future. but in an instant, a comet almost as big as Apollo’s testicles came crashing down, catching me off guard, stabbing me infinitely in a slow-like motion and leaving me helplessly crawling with nothing but a simple, ridiculous rub against my hemorrhaging forehead. ****** **a!

so here iam: crashed, mauled over, bloodied and almost annihilated by a parcel of a reproductive organ. toink.

i just need to graduate for the love of Raul Gonzales’ barbecued larynx and Gloria Arroyo’s garapata wart!

it’s just frustrating. but do i have a choice? of course! i can pack my bags, board the earliest bus to take me out of this nightmarish hullabaloo (what the???), kill myself to sleep, go straight home after an almost 9-hour trip and get myself slaughtered by my father. that’s option Z most probably. haha.

but option A? uhm… go to school and get fired - literally and repeatedly!

waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!

i need more than a pack of cigarettes and a bucket of pale now but REALLY… i just need my sanity back.

Buffer

August 11th, 2008 by martingeneral

days, weeks and months. stare, stare and stare. again, again and again.

the meters weren’t close enough. even the inches were as far as the distance between the spaces that feed the longing and the lingering.

you spoke, with your eyes and smile numbly directed to my uneasiness. i smiled, too. then, the daily and unilaterally friendly exchange was over. there was nothing. again.

you didn’t know anything, anyway. someone was and still is waiting for you. i had to go. move, move and move. then, i’d stop to stare from afar… again, again and again.

Under the Nimbus Cloud

February 26th, 2008 by martingeneral

8 weeks and still counting. 3 more weeks and still crumbling.

back to december 31st: hours prior to the end of another uneventful year and minutes after the first crashes of its last rain… hunched against the front door, lonesome and flushed, i lighted my supposed last stick before hundreds would be bloodied again in the new year.

puff. puff. but only air and smog. puff. nothing. the embers collected from yestersummer and mister frustration were stubborn enough not to be extinguished. so i got an admission ticket to 2008, nicotine-fresh and dryness-free.

now, i’m still counting…

she’s been robbed. he is leaving. and i’m gradually fading.

i haven’t got the slightest idea until now… that the rain hasn’t stopped.

Walang Kwentang Post

January 23rd, 2008 by martingeneral

what do you do when you’ve got 2 exams 2 days from now, and a 5-unit subject, which has a 5-hour and almost non-stop recitation spearheaded by an unstoppable revolver-like professor, the following day? … (pretends to ponder)… sirit na? well, post a stupid and lifeless blog just for your own stupid and lifeless sake while your ears are being bombarded by the sounds of cracked vocals and overly pixelated video! the glory of hangovers and idleness. hallelujah (yawn)…

not to be outdone, click on youtube and just type the words "heath ledger" on the search box and, presto, you’ve got the leftovers from november and break-up days. such a waste - and i’m not referring solely to the aussie and on-screen gay cowboy. ennis must have missed jack that much. pfft.

anyway, the clock’s ticking fast (why can’t it stop doing that just for once? punyeta. haha.) and the reviewer is still stuck for ages on the lowly study table. time to remove the cobwebs. ’til next ranting session. (get a grip, as if someone’s reading this. meron ba? maawa naman kayo. haha.) hasta la vista.

The Waiting

November 5th, 2007 by martingeneral

not so long ago, i finally dared to cut the self-tied leash that i thought had kept me away from the indifference i perceived would eat me up alive if i were free.

unleashed, i saw a world vaguely apart from the one where i willingly succumbed to my fears. my new found freedom brought me to new places and, consequently, to that person who initially paved the way to my fated role in this arena of placement and segregation. but he, too, had some unleashing to do… so i let him.

unexpectedly, i found myself in the middle of nowhere - seemingly in a grayscale ambiance of deafening stillness and unintentianal solitude. overshadowed by a backdrop of a torn bright wallpaper, i was free; yet, i wanted to be leashed again. freedom could strangle you after all. but i could no longer bring myself back to another self-exile because the leash had already been cut. i was out, and still am.

so now, i’ve got to wait, wait and wait - wait for that someone to reteach me why freedom is still a beautiful thing to have.

Ampalaya Mix

October 11th, 2007 by martingeneral

at last, after almost 1 1/2 years, i’ve finally uncovered - for one’s questionably curious consumption - one of my most fragile denials ever: that i’ve never been acrid nor sour, and i’ve never had the hangover of an after-taste; that i’ve had it easily and apathetically since the unilateral conclusion of yet another of my life’s tragically - or ridiculously - short-term "in-a-relationship" status… to put it simply, for the sake of erasing the self-scattered traces of speculation and putting into non-existence the semi-boy abunda critters: yes, i’ve been bitter.

hoy, ‘di ‘yan joke, though it seems like it is. haha. just in case: yes, you’re still reading the right blog, not pops’ (‘san galing ‘un?) or jessica’s.

actually, without the persistence of my colleagues (whose skepticism beats the hell out of my "social adaptation" and camouflaging skills) and their downright flawless construction of the "word," i would have never stepped into the status quo: the obtainment of self-acceptance as regards the depletion of my emotions.

yup, for almost two years, i’ve filled myself with anger and frustration - mostly without intention, believe it or not. gradually, i’ve crafted queries that even i haven’t bothered to answer because in my mind, i’ve been the aggrieved party (any clueless and dumbo dumpees here?) and i’ve got to have my recompense - without weighing the circumstances and my possible lapses. (plain reason has to be tolled sometimes, and those have been the times.)

i’ve been full of silent rage. for some reason, i haven’t figured out why some people - in your most fragile stage - enter your life just to break it or just to make it suck more… and they do this just to make theirs "more lively or exciting." sheesh. why can’t some people just proffer you - in plainly understandable language - their intentions (like, can you do me the favor of being my over-the-counter tester? or, better yet, my easily disposable boyfriend?) instead of making you believe in things that aren’t worth the crap in the first instance? why can’t they just play with their kind, the stuff "players" are made of - the ones who can’t do anything sensible but just to keep on bouncing and bouncing and bouncing… in court or elsewhere. (no pun intended - or is there???)

now, surely, the taste of bitter melon can’t be denied. ang pait. haha. but since that night at captain’s, i’ve finally come to my senses (thanks to ria and rizza. at ang malamig na carbonara. haha.). at loooooong last I’ve found my resolve: i’ve got to move on and somehow obliterate my arrogance or that "no-one-trespasses-me" mindset, which has somehow led me to being engrossed with all that self-inflicted f*cked-up cardiac after-effects. apparently, i have to take my deflated ass out of the stagnance and the dormancy of my philosophy.

after all, i, too, had my share of lapses i’ve got to feel sorry for… and everyone gets hurt at least at one point in their lives. it just sucks that no one is exempted. so that includes me. thanks for reminding me, martin. haha. (’di pa po ako nababaliw.)

parting words: as the idiom goes, "to err is human, but to forgive is divine."

i would have said, "i’m no god," (haha) but, i could be if i had to… and this time, I have to.

I Broke the Glass Slipper!

September 22nd, 2007 by martingeneral

tomorrow is another off day. for the 2nd time, i will be spared from the hypnotic paralysis that old domeng infects me whenever he states - or even whispers - my surname and then commands me to make a mockery of my gradually withering self-respect and grammatical-cum-legal prowess. (as if i have those.)

think of a professor you had - one who didn’t hesitate to terrorize you all the way from afghanistan to pakistan - and you have old domeng. so imagine the relief i’ve had 3 hours ago when 2 classmates, like the evangelists, delivered the good news. dapat talaga biblical (!): with the skies illuminating, and the angels descending and singing songs of praise, the good news was indeed fit for the scriptures: "absent si dean navarro bukas. yahoo!" yahoo, indeed. hallelujah!

i was in overwhelming bliss that i almost choked to death (okay, coma na lang) the guy beside me although i didn’t know who he was or why he was humming that tune strangely familiar with mariposa’s dancing regimen.

needless to say (but i’ve got to say it, damn it), old domeng’s 2nd absence (the first was 2 weeks ago, i think) means a lot because of the following reasons - sensible or utterly stupid:

1) i do not have to retransform myself into a hesitant and caffeine-filled early riser at least for tomorrow morning (teka, ano’ng oras na ba?);

2) i do not have to plague myself with paranoia and to force myself not to endlessly vomit in front of old domeng who’d most probably pick me as the lucky recitation master as a consequence of my absence last meeting ("uhm… sir, sorry, i was in naga last week… because, er, i had to be with the fiesta crowd and i was hungry, sir… *twinkling doggy eyes* ha2… the horror!);

3) of course, i’ll have once again the not so rare means of pampering my idle self. yawn; and,

4) i’ll have the time to contemplate on the products and miseries of my boredom and the fastly increasing days of my being a pseudo-bachelor nearing extreme desperation… (the question marks must be placed here! ha2.)

okay, where did that come from? actually, i, for one, don’t even know what that means! sheesh… kidding aside, i have the nerve to blurt out such inanities because of a stimulating conversation i’ve had with one of my closest friends, del, this afternoon. no, it wasn’t about sex or the perversion brought by it though i bet it could have been about it. ha2.

our conversation started with these current text chain messages relating to inday, the now famous - or infamous - houshelp(er) who has caused her employers countless nosebleeds because of her surprising, breakthrough-ish and anti-stereotypical command of the english language. presently, as the chain messages put it, inday’s employers have forbidden her to speak even a word of english (they must have run out of cotton); otherwise, her employment termination. as a result, inday now speaks pure tagalog. punchline: her tagalog is beyond the provisions of your usual bokabularyo - it’s deeper than your backyard well or your most painful hurting (yes, whatever) that even balagtas will have his share of nosebleeding. ha2.

okay, it was funny for a while but we’ve had enough of inday and her charades that we shooed her away. del then asked me if ****t (i’ll call him doc for secrecy purposes) texted me the other night. he didn’t; so i asked why. del told me doc was conducting a survey focusing on, among other things, his status quo: the never-had-a-single-partner-or-fling-since-coming-out-from-my-mother’s-toot-syndrome.

this is no overstatement: honestly, i was petrified for seconds. i was surprised because until that conversation i thought of doc having a number of partners because after all, he has all the qualifications good enough to ace the pairing scene, if you know what i mean. but, for the sake of tina turner’s peacock hairdress, i was damn wrong.

del concluded that maybe it’s idealism or the plain lack of partners to choose from (frankly, when one has a checklist of requirements or "standards," it’s painfully hard to even scribble a check when no one even qualifies as a subject of such list. in other words, the choices out there aren’t worth an ink. joke!)… or maybe, for the lack of alternative, it’s serendipity or destiny or fate or what-have-you???

i was dazed and eerily moved because, years ago, i was also in a similar - not exactly the same (for the record!) - dilemma.

not too long ago, i was an idealist, a believer in fairy tales converting themselves into real stories that will, in turn, engulf my own life. (no, not that type where cinderella leaves her glass slipper and waits for her prince charming to fit it into her lusty foot. ‘di naman ako gano’n ka-weirdo or that queer! ha2.) what i always had faith in was that pseudo-moment when i’d meet that someone who had all the makings of a fairy tale protagonist, one who will make even snow white cringe and turn to ebony. ha2. so, for many cold and lonely winters (dapat dramatic!), i waited in the middle of the snowstorm believing that out of nowhere a sled will come crashing, carrying the embodiment of my illusions, er, dreams. in my waiting, i ignored all the uneasy and possibly very competent passers-by - or samaritans (i needed help and i had no clue!) - who didn’t quite make the cut for the fictitious but seemingly all-too-real role. yes, victoria, i was too pre-occupied with my misconceptions (or was it arrogance?) and i had the leanings of a goddamn son of a bitch.

unfortunately and imminently, there was no fairy tale… or sled. the delusional and worldly me realized that there were only dungeons caging frogs-who-will-never-turn-to-princes, foxes, hounds, wolves, and, of course, the very human fairy tale characters… and i’ve met two of them, both of different genres (holy manure, did i just type that? ha2.)

far from the pages of hans christian andersen or the grimm brothers, both of them didn’t quite fulfill their promises of giving me the dreamy, perfect and surreal story (at least not all the time) i was longing for. though i excruciatingly hoped that they did, i now understand why they didn’t: because even i cannot proffer them the fairy tale they were praying for. i am also a part of that factual failure that pulls the pages of princes and princesses behind for the favor of what is and should be real.

i’ve realized that i was a die-hard fan of idealism and of perfection that were and still are non-existent in this downright and overly real reality. one single deviation from the fairy tale and i’ll be off running, afraid of my own illusions. i was a dumbo, a doofus, one totally clueless of the fact that even i had something to do with why there is no such nonesense as a fairy tale or a perfect love story. now, as fables go, the moral lesson: fairy tales tell of dreamers… and i’m no dreamer because i cannot be one (notwithstanding my adversity), and no one is (though close; but, technically, still isn’t).

now, i’m a convert. i’ve been excommunicated from the old religion i once offered my martyrdom to. even though there are still times when i find myself in desperation, questioning why all things have to stick to what is the limit, i’ve come to the conclusion that amidst my disappointments, i still have the chance to own what i thought i didn’t want to have: a story that tells of imperfection that is almost too perfect, it’s perfect for imperfects like everybody. and that everybody includes me.

it doesn’t hurt if i still long for what i believed was ideal. after all, idealism is one of man’s many ways to aiming for betterment. but, idealism over reality just doesn’t work, at least not in this lifetime and as far as cardiac matters are concerned.

no one’s perfect and only people - supreme examples of imperfection - can create a utopia of perfection that doesn’t strictly fit the definition of perfect(ion) but comes too close to it that it is perfect enough. and that i’ve realized because of the two imperfect people responsible for my deviations - my "formerlies." (fine, exes.) kudos smoochoes. ha2.

just an afterthought: idealism may keep me floating - or dreaming - but reality, too, doesn’t hinder me from doing so.

doc may or may not agree with me. after all, this is just a blog entry from another moron who has been single and semi-virginal for more than a year. poor me. ha2. come to think of it, he won’t be reading this anyway. but if ever he does, he won’t know what hit him. he2.

uhm, do i still make sense? or did i ever? ha2. inaantok na’ko. yawn… ’til next time maybe. hasta la vista! now, where’s that stupid glass slipper?

(originally posted: september 21, ‘O7)

Drift

June 29th, 2007 by martingeneral

Hangover

June 15th, 2007 by martingeneral

i’ve just arrived home. the scent of stale tobacco and the moist of spilled beer on my cracked lips still linger despite the minutes of exposing myself in nocturnal and speeding air on my way back here. indeed, nature has no clear lineage in dealing with human wastage. nostalgic, but i’ve adapted well with the familiarity and the tentative dimness these circumstances consistently proffer.

i’m petrified, frozen in a time frame i’ve created and unknowing of the faith i’ve associated myself with.

i don’t know if what i’m blurting out is anywhere near sensible, but i’m just plain skeptical, even horrified of the thought that i’m composing this piece of sheer crap… [blurry]… i’m sleepy. haha. even dr. phil has to be spared. maybe the words will come out perfectly next time.

Sheesh…

June 14th, 2007 by martingeneral

the long vacation is not that long after all. actually, it’s almost over: 3 more days and i’ll be off to the terminal to get my uneasy ass out of my 2-month sanctuary. sheesh.

i’m not totally sorry though. yes, regardless of the fact that i haven’t rekindled my so-called summer romance (ew. where did that come from?) and failed to refuel my productivity that has long been in forced hibernation that a new term has to be invented for it.

the vacation was (ok, i should be using the present tense here) way too long for my "pseudo-nocturnal and sloth-inspired" self. i should start digging out and re-familiarizing myself with my "early riser and eager beaver" self. that is, if i haven’t forgotten where i buried that other (hesitant) persona. haha. i gotta graduate soon for justice’s sake! … wait, that wasn’t an earthqauke, was it? haha.

Init!

April 18th, 2007 by martingeneral

init!!! i was perspiring so hard at past eight this morning on my way to class that my light green shirt already had traces of blue green (or were they black? haha.)

speaking of class, yes, i am back in college because of that stupid so-called deficiency my current school says i have. apparently, i am 3 units of english behind the required 18 units. when i was in beda, the circumstances were worse: i had to complete 9 units of english and 3 of filipino. luckily (for the absence of a better word), my admission ineligibilty in the latter institution led me to taking the lesser number of units - and subjects. sigh.

so here i am hesitantly loitering in this net cafe, sunburn-free blogging and cooling my ass off from that big, enraged sun. my youthful, youthful classmates must also be semi-dehydrated but at least they’ve got lesser wrinkles. haha. looking at them inevitably makes me feel the same way as my late grandfather did when he saw me graduate from primary school. haha. okay, that is a joke.

anyway, the clouds are getting friendlier. continue blocking that sun so i’ve got to go without worrying too much from fainting due to vanity, er, dehydration. hasta la vista.

Solicited

February 11th, 2007 by martingeneral

your so-called honesty never told words far beyond lies. it never did, but i thought otherwise way, way back. almost a year ago, i remolded you in my eyes as if i was the only person who saw your potential towards becoming the person i had always believed you were. but now, i only have thoughts worthy of your misrepresentations. sad and unfortunate, but it really is…

okay, get your balls and resume your play.

Not Again

January 23rd, 2007 by martingeneral

i’m back home. i could have stayed in lito atienza’s brokendown city and tried immersing with the foundation week crowd but i insisted for fresher air instead. classes were suspended anyway so for four days i prematurely brought back the glory days of my beloved breaks and holidays. summer can’t wait.

but the good things never last (oh, why?). tonight i’ll be leaving again to make the trip back to my so-called reality. this time my stay there will no longer be prone to tentative stops - good grief - unless circumstances will be brotherly enough to let me attend my youngest sister’s highschool graduation. for now though i guess i’ll be hibernating with my textbooks and professors, who oftentimes look like bears anyhow, until the first setting of the summer sun.

but before i pack my clothes that still missed the laundry bin like last time, let me make these not-so-solicited shout-outs to the following beautiful people (no pun intended): boy, bes, dhen, archie, (’yan tinupad ko na request mo!:p), jhie (congrats in advance. i’ll also try to make it on your day.:)), poi, and everybody. i’ll see you this summer - or earlier.

*once again, this entry should have been posted 2 days ago. the firefox browser must hate blogs.

Oink*

January 9th, 2007 by martingeneral

The break is over. Almost.

I’ve just got home and the countdown to my trip back to to the most polluted city in the country has started. (City and air are just one of the many nouns you can validly associate with the p word and this is an understatement). For three months, I’ll again oftentimes forcibly get myself sliced in the slaughterhouses of the so-called legalese-cum-masochist butchers. The mere crumb of thought of setting once again to full power my persistence against my taxation professor already petrifies me.

It was the end of the third week of December last year. Three weeks for the holidays seemed short enough for a hard-to-get-over hangover but I was dead wrong. Now, I’ve come to realize such was too lenghty for nightly cigarette smoke and light beer. But aside form such health matters, there was a need for me to put an end to my extended christmas break. Sure, there’s school and the familial bounty being spent for my semi-independent living but maybe - just maybe - my nocturnal activities (these have nothing to do with anything shabby - I wish!) have been overstirred that such have to stabilize and breathe until at least the break of summer.

Once again, I have turned on my post-school break mode: having had enough of 1) genuinely-effeminate-fairies-yet-posing-as-[lousily]-sophisticated-gladiator-replicas people flirting with words and personas subjectively perceived as facades and aphrodisiac (according to them and their hollow humor apparently) and 2) the daily doses of nicotine and commercialized zero-calorie beverages over semi-colored textbooks and standardized yellow pads. In short, I’ve finally thought of ways of taking myself away anew from this sick, sick environment. But, hey, the place I’ll be going back to is sicker. Good grief, I don’t make sense all of a sudden.

Anyhow, aside from the aforecited grounds for my pack-up-and-get-a-battering-from-the-butchers-again-syndrome, my stay for the holidays in my most loved place in the whole world (yes, regardless of all the things i have written) has been fairly well. For these three weeks, I’ve had my biggest moments with the people I cherish the most. Though 2006’s christmas and new year welcome weren’t the best I had (reming was a slut!), I’m too damn thankful for the time and the love. cheezy, but who cares? it’s new year anyway: everyone’s stocked with cheese - and fat. it’s the pig’s year!

*this entry should have been posted on the 7th but the pc had its problems.:)

Reklamador Extraordinaire

October 21st, 2006 by martingeneral

it’s sunday, the 22nd of the month. if two of my professors opted not to postpone the supposedly scheduled exams, i should be home by now dozing off on the just emptied hangers from the finals week, or busying myself with the keyboard, with visuals of snow patrol on. but expectedly, what had been planned on didn’t push through. so i’m again putting myself into temporary detention in this dark, RPG owls-infested pc shop, rethinking of means whether to study for tomorrow’s exam later or much, much later - more like tomorrow morning. haha.

lately, i haven’t had the so-called self-shoving that has helped me through "masochist’s school" for almost three years now (though for some reason i have to exclude the first year). it seems i always have worms dancing inside my fingers when i’m answering those plagiarized, hypothetical exam questions that i can’t make myself not to write like the physician i had in third grade. worse, there are even words more legal basic than overly legal basic (i know, i don’t make sense) that i can’t manage to muster come those pesky exams.

these things have become such valid forms of personal anxiety, if not annoyance, that i’ve thought of possible causes why these keep on happening, especially at a time when i don’t need dancing worms and lack of fondness for novice words. so such causes i’ve come up with may be the excitement i have to prematurely put an end to this extended semester, or maybe i’m plain tired, or just maybe it’s the wax i’ve been messing my hair with. the hair enhancer must have something in it that is slowly terminating my already dying brain cells… fine, that’s manifestly baseless and stupid.

okay, i’ve had enough (and you too, i believe). whatever may be the reason behind this (if there is at all) has to be ignored for now. i should shut up and get my life back. stop whining, you bratty pig. you still have two more exams to mess up on… (er, that was me i was talking to) so wish me whatever i may really need.

btw, i’ve just seen the latest video from hale - "waltz" - through youtube. the lyrics are great though the video isn’t that good (okay, this is an overstatement), which reminds me of all saints, particulary their video for never ever, with the thrown plates, exploding bananas and all that litter. haha. nasabi ko lang.

Anger Management

September 10th, 2006 by martingeneral

the stars have spoken yet again: "if you are angry with someone right now, the silent treatment isn’t wise. talk! xxx if you’re angry or frustrated with someone right now, giving them the silent treatment isn’t going to do any good. if you want justice, you have to speak up and let them know how you expect things to change. don’t wait for them to approach you — they’re content with the way things are right now, so there’s no reason for them to rock the boat. it’s up to you to establish communications and reopen the discussion. shape the argument, and don’t give up until you hear the answers you need."

what the astrologer said. well, if it wasn’t wise spending all that (or this) time being mum, there would have been no more curses left to be scrambled because i must have thrown all of them to that bent, just-out-of-deprivation midget. but this time, i’ll take a pass from the astrologer and his stars. no need to rock the midget’s cream puff boat and the untamed unicorns devouring not-exactly-hay inside it; otherwise, i’ll just be wasting a lot of my time, which i regrettably did eons ago.

thanks to the cerebral fairy, it’s over. my boat needs its own rocking and, as an added measure, the stowed away passenger has been thrown overboard (to swim with the mermaids - or mermen).

Another One Bites the Dust

September 8th, 2006 by martingeneral

another drizzling night. my sandals almost got totally drenched because of the scattered puddles on the streets. yet, getting rained on a little is better than having another semi-crackup if i had stayed longer in the apartment. i can’t have corners enclosing on me tonight at least. i’ve had enough of the familiar walls i had as company for the past two days all because of the epal professor who assigned more than 250 pages for reading, er, memorization.

obviously, in my almost three years in "masochist’s school," i’ve never tried finishing such a number in two days though i tried once a year ago (shorter time pa) - the night before my midterms in property. i still had 300+ pages unread that night and the egoistic me thought i could finish such in 8 hours. ambisyoso. it turned out i was already dying at 4 in the morning and i had only covered more or less 80 pages. ngek. consequently, an hour before the exam, i had my dropping form ready for filing. haha.

so was i a proud nicotine ball when i conquered the 250-page assignment this early afternoon. such achievement was a huge one. too huge in many ways: a huge first for a novice speed reader (apologies to bookworms) but also a huge possibilty of a brain meltdown and amnesia. nonetheless, i assumed i was ready for the class later.

but asumptions are assumptions, some are not meant to be converted into realizations. this i’ve realized hours ago when i was in class, frozen on my seat, with eyes almost shut, praying my classcard was somewhere behind everyone else’s. putik, the hugeness factor was indeed a huge success: i’ve forgotten most of the details i’ve read sa dami ba naman, and my head was rolling like the pendulum that was my epal professor-cum-hypnotist. fortunately, before i finished cursing the times i spent listening to the cds i had burned rather than concentrating on the the stupid textbook, the beadle saved my night. the class - and my misery - was over. well, another blooper for the slowly increasing archives.

anyhow, tomorrow’s gonna be saturday. another free day, if i got lucky again. i’ve been one for the past two weeks. i was hoping to get the third of the streak - the turkey, as bowlers say - come tomorrow afternoon, but most probably my professor won’t grant another request for a ceasefire. all the excuses have been exhausted - from the midterms hangover to the supposed participation in the bar operations - and the former justice has to have his days sometimes. wish me luck. lots.

Unsent

July 27th, 2006 by martingeneral

it was one of those summer nights when you finally decided to turn your back. half-expecting, i didn’t make a move - only a whisper - thinking a word or two more could do nothing to make you stop or even come back for the shortest while. inevitable was your term for it. for weeks, i persistently wandered away from you because distance and reality then were our only common friends but somehow something made me come back despite the obvious odds. once again, i slaughtered my rational self. i thought i would see your shadow and eventually, you - but nothing. there were only messages from nearby saying that you’ve gone a long, long way in the shortest incomprehensible span of time, far from the place i thought we both built and knew.

you are now living the life you had long been obsessed about - a life without the walls and facades you yourself created, and the depth that you’ve silently abhorred, only shallow waters and false gaiety. you’ve joined the rest of them in the playing field, like a brute indiscriminately pigging out on grubs that have been either stepped on or spit out by the insatiable others. knowingly, you’re proud of such. indeed, you’ve become a stranger or just maybe i am the stranger, a stupid one. but, it’s your life and, yes, i’ve got mine.

now, i carry myself with the wind’s course, still without my wings, trying to mend through ways even i know are in vain. but i’ll get through. i know i will. everyone does…

SUGAR DADDY

July 22nd, 2006 by martingeneral

i feel exhausted and i’m sure i’ve got a lot of scrap inside me persistently trying to come out. i’ve just consumed lots of sugar (though i’m not sure if calories or calories from fat are worse than the former) and my head’s spinning like a launched cannonball, but, thank the need for escape from sudden solitude, i’m making this pc my company tonight. never mind radiation and sore eyes, or the aggravation of the unwellness i’m presently burdened with, i just need to have this breather.

anyhow, this blog entry is in anticipated memory of this day, which is another stupid near conclusion of my life’s moderation. kumbaga parang walang nangyayari kahit sobrang dami naman. it’s as if i’m living a day because i’ve got to or need to, but never want to.

everyday it’s the same: on weekdays, i’ve got to wake up (syempre naman); force myself to study for four straight hours (though most are spent listening to the vcd player than focusing on the stupid law book); eat; study again for hours; get dressed; go to school; and expect another dose of embarrassment (if i don’t prepare well enough for recitation, which is the usual case, and the professor gives me a look tantamount to a world declaration of my being a moron), or receive a miracle from the heavens or from the angels’ whispers beside me (my seatmates’. he2). thereafter, i go home if my friends don’t invite me for dinner. pagbalik sa apartment, pareho pa din: eat, bathe, brush, and sleep. then after 6 or so hours, i wake up again to face the outset of another routinary day.

it’s tiring but ultimately i’ve got to deal with such. people say i’m far luckier than most people they know on grounds of familial and other social relations: i’ve got a good and stable family to back me up (though i’m not really in good terms with some of them for years now. he2.) and a set of friends for keeps. though i suck big time in some pertinent aspects (my so-called cardiac affairs - but this is another story), i’m still far more fortunate than others, they say, that i better cease whining about things that are allegedly not worth complaining about. but there are just times, like tonight, when the whining surfaces without reason.

‘di pa naman ako 40 so this isn’t surely a middle-age crisis. maybe i’m just a master of complications or maybe the past (the must-be-bygones) has caught up with me or maybe i just need a SERIOUS makeover (if such is feasible at all). malay ko bang ako pala ang susunod sa yapak ni FPJ o ni Pokwang o ni Inno Sotto, hindi ni Hilario Davide. ngek.

whatever. this may just be an effect of sugar overdose. blame the donuts.

FOUR SEASONS (HINDI ‘YONG JUICE)

July 13th, 2006 by martingeneral

SPRING. the sun was visible again. leaves started growing anew. a branch saw a new leaf being gently blown by the wind. she was graceful and her yellow green body shone with the sun rays. she was beautiful. the branch fell in love with the leaf.

SUMMER. the branch extended his reach and at last made contact with the leaf. the branch was resolute and strong despite his lack of solidity and thickness while the leaf was gentle and vulnerable. perfect. the branch held the leaf and provided her with his arms to stick up for. they were in love.

AUTUMN. the sun had weakened. change was apparent. the leaf had lost her brightness and had grown pale. she had now the color of rust and and her hold with the branch was getting weaker despite the latter’s struggle and prayer. then, with a sudden whisper of the wind, the leaf fell. she floated tentatively in the air and helplessly touched the ground with a silence that seemed like thunder. the branch was petrified. just like that. ironically, it was the wind, the same element that attracted the branch to the leaf, that separated them. and the first snowflake dropped on the branch. d speck of ice, though a mere dot, felt like an avalanche, a devastation. it was winter.

WINTER. the ground was buried by snow and lying beneath was the leaf - dry, dead and hopeless like the love that was her and the branch above who was drenched, seemingly revived and falsely hoping. the snowflakes kept on falling, but still no miracle or leaf rising out of the cold pile.

ANOTHER SPRING. another new growth - of leaves and of life. but someone refused to notice nor to live. for the branch, there was only one leaf to notice and to live for. one. and she was gone…

xxx

this is one story i came up with last night. ‘la pasok dahil sa bagyo so i had the time to retrace my interets, one of which is composing bummed out pieces. hehe. but come to think of it, sometimes we have to let go of things eventhough we don’t want or never intend to, no matter how we force ourselves not to. so just cherish the moments when such things are still within reach. treasure and hold them deeply as if spring and summer are just a day for we’ll never know when autumn and winter are coming. life is unfortunately a fanatic of change, of seasons… but who knows? spring and summer may indeed be forever. the sun is always up there after all…

BLUNT

July 7th, 2006 by martingeneral

Did I disappoint you or let you down?
Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?
‘Cause I saw the end before we’d begun.
Yes, I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won.

XXX

Above are just plain words that have hit me big time after the second play. James Blunt’s voice cracks and sounds like a peacock whose feathers are being burned but nonetheless the words are too strong just not to be left hanging in the post-summer air.

Apparently, the title of Blunt’s latest piece is cheesy (that it better be withheld). Extremely full of cheddar that I thought it was just meant to be blasted in full volume to tearjerkers who haven’t had enough of liquid and bitterness (the so-called bitter melon syndrome has been more than a pandemic. have mercy on the dumpees). But surprisingly, the first sung lines hastlily retaliated and told me that they aren’t just a part of a stupid, lonely love song revised by numerous boyband-rooted composers or Nazareth’s "Love Hurts" devotees. There are sensiblity and screaming familiarity (or just maybe Blunt has the works of timing or a reliable songwriter to back his animated voice up). Just what my deafness needed to hear. That simple. ‘la lang na naman.

Anyway, the lines aren’t for me to recollect on. Someone unknowingly owns them - the blunt, the one who had won…

BOOBOO

June 28th, 2006 by martingeneral

haha. now the stars are talking. with their permission and my rekindled admission of the recent daily superstition-turned-quasi-reality (those damn horoscopes), i can now brand myself as a former undecided flunkey. finally i can let go of these things that have tested my gullibilty and so-called unfounded persistence (against being stagnant with the so-called contempo cardiac affairs. sucks). the mystery has been solved. i’m finally boarding my imaginary jetplane and walking the post-bottom out walk, without the moronic hesitation caused by those smart-ass Nostradamus’ clones.

Why did i believe in such nonsense in the first place anyhow? (my past blog entries prove such dumbness. lagi kasing ’sakto! kaasar.)

for clueless ones like this writer, below is the sagittarian forecast (june 28th) that has caused this blog composition (believer pa pala ako):

The Bottom Line

Mysteries are finally starting to make sense to you; a decision will soon be clear.

In Detail

Keep your eyes peeled for a smoking gun — a missing clue will shed new light on a confusing personal situation. What you thought was the easy answer just may be the easy answer! Decisions will suddenly be crystal clear, so readdress the tough ones you’ve been putting off. Now that you’ve gained some distance, what you need to do next will become abundantly clear. Enjoy this new sense of power and celebrate your ability to solve a mystery.

xxx

conclusion: reading and sharing a little confidence with horoscopes are a waste of time and a reason for a blockhead to flood his blog with insensible entries (see my past blog entries, if you had a fascination with dumbos).

MADAM AURING 101

June 26th, 2006 by martingeneral

Sagittarian Forecast (June 26)

The Bottom Line

All signs may be pointing to go, but right now is not the time to move ahead.

In Detail

You are at an important intersection in life, and the light in front of you has been red for a very long time. It’s understandable if you’re getting antsy to get going, but before you do anything rash, take a long look at your surroundings. Things are going on around you that will easily explain the delay — and help your patience grow. It’s not time to move ahead right now in any type of relationship — legal, professional, romantic or otherwise.

XXX

Perfect timing. This has to come out days after i wrote my previous blog entry and just when i’m already beyond indecision. Worse, the preceding forecasts were consistently, personally appropriate. Creepy. This latest calculation is the one that has breached the supposed pseudo-coincidence. But who gives a damn? It’s astrology. Only stupid stars - and Madam Auring. (Ngek. Sabi ko lang ‘yon.)

Homer Shirt. $6.99.

STITCH

June 24th, 2006 by martingeneral

Finally i’m on my way. What’s ahead has grown wider and more illuminated (only leftover cigarette butts, empty bottles of stale beer and nocturnal hell littered behind my deflated arse. Haha.). Gotta walk away, run and break the leash. Homer has to have his days somehow.

THE STARS AREN’T STUPID

June 3rd, 2006 by martingeneral

Sagittarian Forecast (June 02):

The Bottom Line

Today brings a major turning point in a relationship. Certain truths become obvious.

In Detail

After months or even years of going back and forth in a relationship, you will reach a major turning point and a revelation. Sometimes things come to an abrupt ending, while other times they just slowly fade away. Certain truths are starting to become too obvious to ignore — so you will have to stop ignoring them. Until you see things as they truly are, you can’t move forward and give your full attention to someone who is much more deserving of your time.

XXX

Astrology has never been this interesting. Friendster’s own Madam Auring should be promoted.

DUNCE

March 14th, 2006 by martingeneral

Bart_scream

my recitation tonight sucked like rotten rice again. of all the questions the judge had to ask me, he picked the single query that wasn’t in my stupid 10-page reviewer. good grief, i had no time - or patience - to read 200 pages of penal annotations just to secure a perfect preparation. the reviewer was good enough. was. argh. now i have to revise my supposed ironed out options. again.

worse, my cellphone finally got busted after weeks of persistence. first was the malfunctioning keypad (kudos to paksiw) then came the virus which devoured my load like cheesecake and randomly sent obscene messages to my contacts. waah. the phone is currently dead and i have nothing but this rented pc to save me from solitude.

less than three weeks to go and i’ll finally be out of this rubbish. i’ll be boarding the earliest bus to take me tentatively away from the lows of law school and the pollution that is manila(’s). haha. hopefully, it’ll be home i’m going to. i need the breather. thankfully, i’ll get to be with my people again, plus ____. :p

…

February 3rd, 2006 by martingeneral

AUGUST

February 3rd, 2006 by martingeneral

How can I find something that two can take
without stumbling as we walk into our future’s wake?
I’m like a broken record that you can play,
repeating as if it matters everything I want to say.

I’ll be all right as long as it matters,
as long as you’re here with me now.

Forget that time, it’s nothing. We touch and see.
All this is fine even as it crashes down on me.
I’m looking around, there’s nothing that I could want
more than to tell you there’s no more than we’ve already got.

I’ll be all right as long as it matters,
as long as you’re here with me now.
Forget that our time is almost up.

i’ve still got a few months to validly exploit this song. robin wilson surely will sound like a broken record when such time frame expires. and so will i.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Sunday, January 18, 2009

The Bottom Line

In Detail

Sagittarian Forecast (June 26)

The Bottom Line

In Detail