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Erika

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That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
JAPAAAAAAAAAAAAAN Part 2 [Saturday, October 2011//04:04PM]
Ok simula ng bagong entry. Ito tungkol naman doon sa ginawa namin ni Ayaka nung isang Sunday. Nakalimutan ko na kung kailan pero magiimbento nalang ako ng date.
Pumunta kami ng Tenjin for the 2nd time. This time, sabi ni Ayaka, magmeet na langkami sa harap ng post office. I checked the bus schedule that morning tapos sabi ung tatamang bus schedule ay darating 30 minutes earlier than the specified time we were supposed to meet. So dahil takot ako ma-late, dahil Japan ito at hindi Filipino Time, kinuha ko na yoong bus na yoon. Kesa ung susunod na bus na darating 15 minutes later than the time specified.
Soooooo. First time ko sumakay ng bus mag-isa. Grabe thrilling. For one, I didnt know any of the kanji para doon sa destinations nung bus. So i whisked out my itouch, clicked Kotoba!, and searched for the word TenJin. Fortunately, na locate ko naman ung kahawig nung kanji na nasa itouch ko ung isa sa mga kanji doon sa bus stop map. Maglalagay ako ng litrato mamaya para maipakita ko kung gaano kalaking achievement ang ma-locate ang kanji na yoon amidst 300 kanji destinations.
Anyhoo, so sumakay na ako nung bus. Grabe ampupu 360 yen or mga 200 php ang one way ticket to Tenjin. Grabe din ang honesty system doon sa bus. Ieexplain ko next time pero wag ngayon. Wala pa kasi ako doon sa main point na gusto ko iparating sa entry na ito.
So fast forward tayo. Nag-antay ako sa harap nung post office for 30 minutes. Yun pala, andun si Ayaka doon sa mismong harap ng post office. Eh doon ako sa street across nagaantay. Howell. At least nagkita kami.
After nun, pumunta kami sa may parke kung saan merong performance. Sabi ni Ayaka, ung performances daw na yoon ay hindi meant for human eyes kundi para sa mga Gods. May pictures din pero next time na.
Pagkatapos, doon sa parke, parang merong mini fair na nags-showcase ng mga kung ano anong local food and produce. So nagtaste test kami. Napansin ko mahilig sa taste test ang mga Hapon. Hahah.
Taste test ng strawberry, ng croquet, ng wine, at kung ano ano pa. In the end, bumili kami ng rice and potato and tomato croqquet and then naghanap na ng lugar na maari naming maupuan. Ang free na upuan ay doon sa isang may umbrella na table na may nakaupo nang dalawang matandang Haponesa at isang matandang mama. Apparently, hindi rin sila magkakakilala. Perod ahil friendly lang talaga ang mga tao dito sa Fukuoka, nagusap usap na kami,.
Of course, the standard introduction questions. Name, location, from where, why am I here.
Answered everything and they all found it interesting. Said somethign about knowing another Filipino and how awesome and nice we all were. Pero the point is, may tinanong siya na nagulat ako.
Sabi niya, ano ang pangarap ko, ano ang dream ko sa buhay, ano ang gusto ko gawin pagkatapos ko mag-aral.
Of course, dahil mukha akong pera, I said that I wanted to live in Japan and to make my own Zaibatsu. Ang Zaibatsu ay isang conglomerate of really big companies. Kumbaga parang SM or Robinson's. Mga ganoong level ng kayamanan at kalakihan ng operations at sakop na industries.
Nung sinabi ko un, both the old ladies laughed at my face.
Sabi nila, just marry a man who owns a Zaibatsu.

Sobrang wtf. Anong klaseng thinking yoon. I mean siguro dahil hindi nila ako kilala feel nila grabe ako mangarap na bata pero feel ko kasi talaga kaya ko. Altho feeling ko mejo makapal lang talaga ang fes ko. Hahhaa. Pero grabe talaga normally ang sasabihin ng mga Pinoy is grabe go go go kaya mo yan. But no. Here, that's what they say. Hindi ko alam kung paano magreact so nakilaro na lang ako sa kanila. Sabi ko nalang, I think finding a man who owns a Zaibatsu that will be willing to marry me will be harder than just setting up my own Zaibatsu.
So sige tawa na lang.

Pero sobrang disturbed parin ako doon.

Ok mahaba haba na ito next!!!!!!!!!!!

That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
JAPAAAAAAAAAAN!!! PART 1 [Tuesday, September 2011//07:22AM]

First night in my dorm room with Fretchie. I still can't believe that I'm back here and now for a longer stay. Last time I was here, I only had one week with a host family. Right now, my mind still deceives me and tries to make me think that I'll only be staying here for one week.

The flight was okay but the NAIA personnel were corrupt as usual. Grabe, our luggage was only about like 8 pounds overweight then he asked us to give him money so we could check them in. Andami ko gusto pa sabihin tungkol dito pero kailangan ko to isubmit sa guro ko.

Kaya sa ngayon magtatagalog muna ako.

Pagkatapos naman nung encounter na yoon, naging smooth ang landing at pagdating namin sa Korea at makalipas ang mga ilang oras, sa Fukuoka. Pagdating namin sa Japan, hindi gaanong maaraw at masasabi pa ngang downcast ang skies. Tapos, nag CR muna kami. Shempre, Japanese Technology kaagad ang humarap sa amin. Napakarami kong litrato na gustong ilagay dito ngunit, sabi ko nga, sa susunod na iyon. Kailangan lang talaga may laman ang blog na ito.

Pagdating namin sa may airport, kinailangan kasi namin magantay ng isang oras para makasakay kami sa Kyushu Daigaku na shuttle bus papuntang International Housing. Kami lang ni Fretchie at isa pang babae na Chinese ang nakita namin na hindi Caucassian na nag-aantay. Dahil unang araw pa lang namin, talagang kinabahan at hindi ako komportable makipag-usap doon sa ibang mga tao. Napansin namin na para bang dahil sila ay puti, mas magkakausap na sila. Grabe wala pang 30 minutes, parang best friends na yoong mga tao. Samantalang kami ni Fretchie ay nag=aantay mag-isa (or should I say both of us( doon sa may tagiliran. Nakakatakot pala makipagkilala sa bagong uri ng mga tao. Natakot ako na pangit English ko. Natakot ako na may bobo akong sasabihin. Natakot ako na magmumukha akong weirdo. Lalong nag increase ung takot ko nung naalala ko ung mga teenage high school movies na pinapakita at pinapalabas sa sinehan. Kung saan may mga clique ang mga jockey,s mga cheerleaders, mga asians, at mga nerds, o ung talagang mukhang tanga lang talaga. Natakot ako ma-include doon sa nmga yoon. Kahit saan doon. Nag-wish ako na sana, kapag nagsimula na ang mga klase, magiging close na kaming lahat.
Pero sa ngayon, kami na lang munang dalawa ni Fretchie.

Sumakay na kami sa Shuttle Bus na walang aircon. Dahil kakaiba magdrive ang mga taga-Japan, unang lumapit ako sa right hand side ineexpect na naandoon ang pintuan. Natawa ako kasi natandaan ko na right hand driving nga pala dito. Eentually, nakita ko yung pintuan ng bus. Nasa likod ko si Kelly. Grabe napakalakas ng London Accent niya. Nakakatuwa siya kausap pero shempre takots parinz akozx. Small talk small talk.
Para sa akin pointless ang small talk. Pero next time na yoon.

Then dumating na kami ng Kaikan (o ung iInternational House).
Ok tama na muna ito ipagpaptuloy ko na lang ulit. Doon na muna sa kabilang entry para marami ung Entry. Wooooo. Babush muna!

That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
When I was 10 [Tuesday, March 2010//10:22PM]
I was approximately 6 years old when i first heard the
tuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuututututututut....
tuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuututututututut....
of dial-up.
My dad didnt exactly tell me how to set-up the dial-up connection, nor did he actually tell me how to start up Netscape or whatever. I do remember though, that i indiat sat on our super hard wooden chair and made a lot of paint creations that resemble that of Picasso's works.
Something like this. Hahaha. I remember I was so proud I made all the things I did like that our computer's wallpaper.
And all the 50++ computers in the Comp Lab.


And I was 6 then.

I also remember, that dial-up was still so super slow, I had to poop to prevent myself from clicking a link multiple times before it loads. I especially had to do this when I wanted to surf playhousedisney. It just took so painfully long to load Bear in the Big Blue House or Rolly Polly Ollie.
I had to blame our isp back then. It was unheard of, and it possessed a tiny land in our neighborhood to set-up a quote-unquote office. It was called Pisay Online. I have no idea if it's affiliated with my sister's high school back then.
She never did answer my question.
Anyway, back to when I was 6. I was 6 when I watched Telletubies. I remember I DREADED the opening song just because of the baby. God I feared that laugh. That crazy hypnotic laugh that sent chills up my spine.

And I remember I felt that when I was 6. I hated that baby. It was so happy, and it was living inside the sun. Or rather, i thought, it WAS the sun. Crazy.
I remember I was 6 when I had so much fun saying
Tinky Winky-wet
Dipsy-wet
Lala-wet
Ang
Po-WET.
HAHAHAH.
Or there's an even more sacrilegious version of the jingle.
Tinky Winky-ki
Dipsy-Ki
Lala-Ki
aaang
Po-KI!
HAHAHAHAHA. And I felt so cool when I said that. Just because I can. I also remember that I had to spell out bad words when I REALLY had to say them. Something like
TCHER! ANG T-A-N-G-A LANG PO TALAGA NIYA. *sabay turo*
Although I dont remember saying it directly to a teacher. I do remember mumbling it when all the super tall grade sixers would trample us in OUR corridor during OUR recess with OUR milk cartons and OUR lugaw.
I hated them grade sixers. 
I never thought I'd be one myself. I never thought I'd grow -that- tall and big.
and
bully-strong.

Actually, I just looked up Teletubbies and Bear in the Big Blue House to see if I was six when i watched them. Turns out they aired the shows 1997. So that makes me four.
Wow.
what a smart kid i was. =))

Well, so anyway.
When I was four, I collected all the jelly ace cups I could. When I was four, my brother and I drew the curtains during the afternoons in the sala so we can lie down on the carpet to watch real Hanna Barbera cartoons, ie Droopy, the Flintstones, The Jetsons.
Btw,
My parents originally wanted to call me Elroy when I was conceived. They thought I would be a he.
Cool name though. I'couldve been a Jetson. :)

When I was eight, I remember I had a fist fight with one of my classmates in Grade three. I was having quality time with myself and my balloon. I remember it was afterclass hours and I had a helium-inflted balloon that I punched upwards as long as it doesnt hit the floor. The objective was the balloon shouldnt hit the floor.
Unfortunately, that stupid guy who later on shit his pants in school 2 grade levels after, umepal at sinuntok rin ung balloon ko.
then it fell on the floor.
I punched him, he cried.
What a pity. @_@

When I was ten, I remember I ran after a person with scissors just to extort from him the newest K-Zone Edition. I remember the look on his face when I did that. I remember he was laughing and i thought he was having fun so i continued to chase him with scissors every time he brought with him a new K-Zone issue. He stopped bringing his K-zones after about three consecutive months of being chased by a crazy fat girl with scissors out to get your shiny new issue.

I also remember this was the year I read the Da Vinci Code. I also put up a revolution against our gay math teacher that time just because he had a lisp and he wiped his weird body parts with his hanky during class because of the intense heat in our classrooms.
I remember i didnt learn anything from him. but I do remember he danced Mr. Suave well. and he actually kind of looked like a Mr. Suave.
 

Back to when I was 6. That was the time I created my very first e-mail address. It was yahoo (because there werent anything else good at that time) and i named it
iceblueeyes@yahoo.com for the character in Samurai X. I forgot his name basta super crush siya ni Misao. and super crush ko rin siya nun.
Anyway
I registered for Philippine Ragnarok Online with that e-mail address. And I remember my character's name was
My_Hero. A measly level 15 archer with a smile mask on, sniping on Condors at the map beside Morroc.
I remember I watched Studio Ghibli productions when I was 8, and changed that e-mail address to Hamster_hime@yahoo.com in reverence of Mononoke Hime. :)
And in memory of all the hamsters I cared for (5 in total).
I loved you and will always love you Balls, Plue, Plue the Second, Brownies, and oh no i forgot the other one @_@.


So, to the main point of the post. I'm sorry I digress a lot. :D
When I was 10, I signed up for friendster, myspace, and xanga, and a .tk domain, and everywhere else the great Erika Jean can set-up camp and campaign to the whole world how awesome she is.
And she does that
with pictures like this:

all i have to say is
OMG NAKAKAHIYA. NAKAKAHIYA NAKAKAHIYA.

Me and my roomate have been reminiscing about our childhood of beyblades, daimos, akazukin chacha, tekken, failed attempts at sipa, zenki, food beside/across the school (eg. mikmik, the quote ice cream unquote in a tube, haw flakes, haw haw, jungle bubblegum, etc)
and we looked at our old myspace accounts.

Sobrang nagtawanan kami when we saw all the pictures that we had. I remember i took this photo when I was in Grade 6 while I was waiting for my mom in the car. She was doing rounds sa LBDH so I had nothing else to do but sit in the car and wait for her.
And practice vanity at such a young age.
Stupid VGA cameras not enhancing the smoothness of my skin when I was grade 6. :))

Anyway, the initial reaction, of course, was to take everything down and delete the accounts that we left behind as we grew up. To delete all possible evidence of childhood follies, unique idiosyncracies, quoted books and authors, StiCky CaPs oF tHe NoT sO DisTanT PaST, and other nonsense  that can bring me down if ever someone sues me and they stumble upon racist comments or psuedo-intellectual entries of our tender impressionable brains.
and of course,
our full-of-self mentality that we were young
and we were there.

We were young, we were there at such an early age. We were the youngest to show up in Ragnarok Botting Communities. Youngest fan to actually moderate an international Tom Cruise Forum. Youngest in all aspects.
The not so silly children of the internet where we might as well be FBI agents undercover to catch all the internet predators (which I have to add were fictional back then).

So the easiest way out, of course, was to delete.
Delete the evidence of us having ever been there.

My roomate did.
But I didnt.
[erratum: MY roomate DID NOT delete her myspace]
Why should I be ashamed of who I was when in fact I still grew up into such a beautiful and renaissance of a lady I am now.
=))

Ok throw rocks now.

Anyway, back to the point. How can I hate this?
<<<<
How can I be ashamed of something so innocent and funny at the same time. Ewan ko. I will never delete the internet cookies I left in millions of wasted bandwidth.
Won't delete the labored CSS codes made in notepad.
Won't delete the pictures crudely editted in paint.

If history were to be written, of course I wouldnt be in it.
You wouldnt be significant.

But at least, once here in the internet, I once held the record of being the Youngest. Of posing for overly-used angles just to look pretty and so people would add me.
To all the unknown friends I had in Myspace and in Friendster, hello.

Although everything is as abstract as a kilobyte or a simple byte, even if all the records of my humanity and individuality can be summed up by google by a simple search of keywords and later be deleted by just a click of a mouse, it still exists.
I existed.

Not in print,
but in forms of binary and in forms of bytes.
Not in concrete.
But at least.


When the world ends in 2012 ( i kind of believe it will na o: ), no one would matter anyway.
So if this is all I have to serve proof of my existence here in the world of electronics and ones and zeroes and ones, then by all means I wont delete it.
No matter how embarassing. 
HELLO HIGHER LIFE-FORMS.

I keep on digressing.
Brain and consciousness, please cooperate.

That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
KYAAAAAAAAAA ORGSPASM. [Tuesday, March 2010//02:06AM]
TroubleMaker

Well, this came out early. Troublemaker wasnt supposed to air before March 3 according to my roomie. Anyway,
OMGZARZ OVARIES JUST EXPLODED AAAAAAAAAAAAAH~ Teh pheromones are overpowering. Matsu-jun please stay away from me. ~~~~~~~~~/o/
The video kind of looks like Strawberry Swing although it's obvious that more time was spent with Strawberry Swing. I'm kind of disappointed that lots of frames in this PV were just looped and looped. Couldve been better if they just made the guys move around a little more than just flash repetitive frames all the time. All though i have to admit, they all look GORGEOUS. :3
And Matsujun at 2:52 looks FABULOUS. o_o o_o o_o o_o *kyaa to the nth level*
Sho looks so tired tho. :( Poor baby. :( :(

I only got the video today and I immediately downloaded it and converted it to put into my iPod. I'm so happy. Plus, I just put the new single on my playlist, it's already under the top 25 most played. I just loooove the violin parts. And, well, the happyness of the song.
 

KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

 

riiiida's so chubbeh. ~:3

i need to get meself a high-def copy of the pv. o:

That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
[Tuesday, February 2010//01:16AM]

i don't really any give a damn about it anymore.


i kick life's balls.

That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
[Sunday, February 2010//09:24AM]
advertisement o:Collapse )

That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
ARASHI BALLERZZZ [Friday, January 2010//03:14PM]

That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
Si manong driver may asim pa. [Friday, January 2010//03:03PM]

Galing akong probinsya, kaya wala akong alam sa heograpiya ng Maynila. Malay ko ba kung nasaan ang Maceda street, kung nasaan ang Taft Avenue, kung nasaan ang Eastwood, kung nasaan ang Nacpil, kung nasaan ang Divisoria, kung nasaan ang Katipunan, kung ano ang LRT station at ang pagkakaiba nito sa MRT station, kung ano ang pinakamalapit na daan patungong Alabang kung galing kang Marikina. Wala akong kaalam alam pagdating sa mga daanan at kalsada ng Maynila. Ang alam ko lang kung nasaan ang Calamba, San Pablo, Los Banos, F.O. Santos, Raymundo Gate, Anos, at kung ano ano pang lansangang maliliit kung saan ako lumaki.

Pero dahil naandito na ako ngayon sa Xavierville Avenue, Loyola Heights, Quezon City at ako ay isang studyante ng Ateneo de Manila sa Katipunan, mukhang kailangan ko nang pag-aralan kung papaano makab-biyahe sa kung saan saang sulok ng Maynila.

Pero sa ngayon,

ang solusyon ay.

Taxi.

Sinabihan ako ng magulang ko na huwag na huwag akong sumakay ng taxi mag-isa, o kaya naman, huwag na huwag daw akong sasakay ng taxi ng puro babae kami, o kaya’y huwag na huwag akong mag-taxi kapag naka-shorts ako. Ewan ko ba. Sabagay, marami akong naririnig na holdapan pagdating sa mga taong nakasakay sa taxi. Kaya ang dating sa akin, lahat ng sulok ng Maynila, may nakatabing BABALA sa bawat imaheng napasok sa utak ko. Eh gayunpaman, kung kailangan bumyahe, edi b-byahe. Alangan namang lakarin ko ang buong kahabaan ng EDSA. Aba’y kasing nipis na siguro ng papel ang Merrel na sapatos ko. Havaianas man yan o Hawayanas.

Kaya,

Ano pa bang magagawa kung kailangan kong makapunta ng PGH upang puntahan ang ate ko sa UP Med.

Edi,

Taxi.

Marami na akong nasakyang taxi. Yung iba, sobrang lamig sa loob. Para bang iceman yung driver, ngumunguya pa ng doublemint habang nagd-drive sa refrigirator niyang sasakyan. Pero ung kabaligtaran ng Iceman driver ang mas talamak sa mga nasakyan ko nang taxi. Yun naman ung impyernong taxi. Grabe ang init sa loob ng sasakyan! Talo pa ata ang impyerno. Kapag sabihin mo sa mama na kung pwedeng lakasan ung erkon, papakita niyang pinipihit niya yoong “knob” ng aircon, pero hindi mo maririnig na lumakas ang ihip ng hangin. Hindi mo naman mabuksan ang bintana kasi napaka-ganit ng malagkit lagkit na paikot na pihitan ng pampababa ng salamin. Kaya wala ka nang ibang magawa kundi magpaypay ng sarili gamit kung ano ang pinakamalapit sa kamay mo na flat na bagay. Kahit ano. ID mo, folder, papel, minsan, kung wala  na talaga, kamay mo na lang.

Ung ibang kotse naman, ung metro ang gumagawa ng kababalaghan. Minsan kapag pumupunta kami ng Banapple sa Libis (oha oha alam kong Libis ang tawag kasi binasa ko ung menu ng banapple), inaabot kami ng isandaang piso. Minsan naman, 75 lang. Minsan nga 50. Hindi naman lagi gaanong traffic. At regular naman na araw, at regular rin naman ang takbo ng oras. Hindi ko alam. Basta bayaran mo nalang. Minsan may nakukuha ka pang electronic na resibo na nakaliligayang panoorin mag-print. Pakiramdam mo high tetsh na. Basta. Mahal o mura, bayaran mo na. Nakarating ka rin naman sa destinasyon mo eh.

Isa pa, hikain ako. Kaya sensitibo ako sa amoy ng mga kung ano anong bagay. Hindi naman ung punto na kapag umutot ang katabi ko, malalaman kong utot niya yoon at hindi anit lang niya. Basta, kailangan sang-ayon sa ilong ko ang isang amoy. Kundi, mangangamatis ang ilong ko sa kaka-atsing at kaka-punas ng tisyu o loob ng manggas ko. Mga taxi, minsan ang amoy, hindi mo maintindihan! Driver na hindi naliligo na hinaluan ng Axe na pabango. O kaya naman, amoy anghit ng nagbebenta ng DBD sa may bangketa, minsan ung isang nasakyan ko, amoy tinapa na amoy juicy fruit na amoy doublemint na amoy Pine car fragrance na amoy Albatross na amoy Sto. Nino. Nagutom ako sa amoy ng tinapa, pero mejo nagtaka rin kung bakit amoy tinapa yung Pine Car fragrance. Iba amoy plastic cover, iba amoy isda. Pero pinakatalamak ung amoy isda. Edi ang pinakalagi kong nasasakyang taxi, mainit na kotseng amoy isda. Wow.

Di bale kung alin man ang masakyan mong klase ng kotse ng taxi. Basta ang importante, nakarating ka sa destinasyon mo.

Minsan, kapag nasa Katipunan ka at talagang kailangan mo ng taxi, doon naman sila hindi dumadating. Ang aarte ng mga anak ng. Kapag papara ka, kailangan mo sabihin muna kung saan ka pupunta. kapag hindi nila “type” yung pupuntahan mo, paandarin nila ng mabilis yung kotse habang bukas pa yung pintuan kasi nga sinasabi mo palang kung saan ka patungo. Isang beses nga muntik nang masagasaan ang paa ko. Mga walang hiya. Nangyari narin saakin yung um-oo na yung driver, nakasakay ka na ng buong buo at komportable na ang pagkaka-upo mo sa pulang seatcover na amoy isda, sabay kapag nakitang traffic ang dadaanan, ibababa ka sa pinakamalapit na loading unloading.Nakakairita talaga. Pero wal kang magagawa. Kailangan mo kumuha ng taxi para makarating ka sa destinasyon mo.

Yun lang talaga yon.

Kapag nakakuha ka na ng taxi, magpasalamat ka na at manalangin ka na sa Diyos na hindi ka nila liligawin. Ang teknik ko, kukuhanan ko ng litrato yung mga numero sa tabi ng pintuan. Nakakatuwa yung mga yoon. Lagi puti ang font color, at lagi iisa lang ang font. Hindi ko alam kung saan napulot ng mga taxi driver ang font na gamit nila sa “Comments or Suggestions? Call or text xxxxxxxx”. O kaya naman, naghahanap na ako sa Google Earth ng mga alternatibong rowta patungo sa aking destinasyon. Kung ligawin, bahala na.  Basta lang. Makarating ka lang talaga sa destinasyon mo.

Yoong tipo ng mga taxi driver at kung ano ano ang mga natitipuhan nilang pag-usapan, nagi-iba iba rin. Isang beses, papunta akong MOA, kasama ko ang nanay ko nito. Nanggaling kaming Heritage kaya isang sakay lang papuntang MOA. Yung taxi driver, dada ng dada tungkol sa politiko ng Pilipinas. Katatapos lang ng tidal wave noon na sumalanta sa Indonesia. Sabi niya, “Sana matsunami ang Malacanang. Lamunin sana ng dagat si Gloria!” Pagkatapos niyang sabihin iyon, biglang may nag wengweng sa likod ng taxi namin. Convoy ng mga itim na Expedition tapos may hilera ng mga motorsiklo na nagegewang-gewang para mapalawak yung daan na mac-clear para sa Convoy. Pagkadaan ng convoy, nakita naming lahat sa loob ng taxi, na may karo na nagmamadali patungo sa siguro’y malapit na libingan. At ang sabi ni Manong taxi driver

“Sa huling hantungan na nga, nagmamadali pa. Kung ako yan, pinakamabagal na andar ang gagawin ko. Huling biyahe na nga.”

Nakarating naman kami noon sa MOA ng hindi nalalamon ng tsunami.

Isa pang taxi na nasakyan ko, ngayon ngayon lang, papunta ako ng Maceda sa may Espana. Galing akong Katipunan noon. Hindi ko inakala na aabot ng 250 ang metro. Pero binayaran ko rin naman. Mukha kasing niligaw ako nung taxi driver. Eh sa may Espana, nag buntong hininga na ako sa haba at sa tagal na ng byahe namin. Ang sabi naman niya,

“Malapit na ho, maam! Kaunting kaunti na lang”

Yeah right.

Nakarating naman ako sa Maceda. 250 pesos poorer. Sumara sana ang butas ng pwet ng taxi driver na yoon.

Pero. Nakarating pa rin ako.

Ang pinakamasama at pinakanatakot ako na sakay ko sa Taxi, ay nitong nakaraang linggo lang. Pauwi akong Xavierville galing Gateway. Di ko alam kung bakit hindi na lang ako nag LRT, tinamad siguro ako pumila sa Bag inspection na walang ibang ginawa kundi tusukin ung wallet o loob ng bag mo tapos sisilip tapos paaalisin ka na. Napakawalang kwentang inspeksyon eh. Useless. Anyway, sumakay ako ng Taxi sa tapat ng Taco Bell, sa kabila ng Krispy Kreme, at sa tabi ng sakayan ng Ali Mall shuttle.

Pagkatapos ng matagal na paghihintay, nakakuha rin ako ng taxi.

Pagsakay ko, wala namang kakaibang amoy. Katamtaman ang erkon, at elektronik ang metro, font ng nakasulat sa tabi ng pintuan ay puti, berdeng seat cover na may parang butas sa gitna ng hita ko na mukhang binutasan gamit ang nagbabagang upos ng sigarilyo, at isang matandang driver.

Mukhang mas matanda pa sa lolo ko.

At sabi niya.

“Alam mo, mahirap talaga kapag nalalayo ka sa asawa mo”

Mejo nakaramdam na ako ng takot sa simula pa lang ng kwento niya. Nanalangin na ako sa Diyos. Ayaw ko ma-rape ng wala sa tamang oras. Lalo kung mukhang maduming lolo na ang gagawa. Amoy lupa na.

Nagpatuloy siya.
“Yung asawa ko kasi pumunta ng Mindoro, eh ngayon, yung kaibigan kong dati pa, lumalapit lagi ngayon sa akin. Walang asawa yoon, pero may anak. Fourth year high school ngayon sa Adamson. Yung kaibigan kong iyon, may stall sa Divisoria. Kaya kami nagkakilala, kasi hinatid ko siya isang beses doon.”

Hindi ako umiimik. Sa loob loob ko, shet pare tumahimik ka na.

“Ang pangalan niya ay Camille. Yung anak niya, di ko na sasabihin di mo naman kasi kilala. Eh ngayon, nag-birthday siya nung isang buwan na ang nakalipas. Sabi ko, anong gusto mong regalo. Sabi ni Camille, aba edi tirahin mo ako. *sabay tawa ng malakas nung taxi driver* Aba’y, hindi ako makapaniwala na sinabi niya sa akin iyon! Yung babaeng yon, mukhang wala nang asim! Titirahin ko pa?! Ikaw ba, titirahin mo pa ba yoon?”

Sabay tingin sa akin nung mamang driver. Naalala niya siguro na babae ako, kaya hindi na niya inantay pa ang sagot ko. Nagpatuloy siya sa pag-kwento.

“O edi pumayag ako. Pumunta kami sa bahay niya doon sa may Fajardo. Alam mo yoon, yung kapag nanggaling ka sa Legarda station, di-dirediretsuhin mo lang, matutumpok mo yung bahay niya. May sari-sari store sa tabi, tapos may parkingan ng awto ko sa harap. Pero hindi talaga ako ngp-park kasi mahahalata naman ng mga kapitbahay”

Nagt-text na ako sa boyfriend ko na tulungan niya ako. Ayaw ko na marinig yung kasunod na alam kong sasabihin ng mama. Pero hindi ko na natapos yung mensahe, masyado ako naintriga sa susunod niyang sinabi! Si lolo pala, may asim pa!

“Aba, pagdating ko sa bahay niya nung bertday niya, may dala ba namang tatlong tig i-isang litro ng Red Horse! *Sabay tawa na naman tapos tingin sa akin* Alam mo yon?!”

Tumango na lang ako.

“Edi samakatuwid, may nangyari sa amin nung gabing iyon.”

Hindi na ako makapag-pigil. Sabi ko sa mama. “Manong, kadiri ka.”

Sabi niya,

“Eh naman. Sex lang ang habol ko. CHEX KUNG CHEX LANG. Hindi mo naman alam kung ano ang pakiramdam kapag nasa Mindoro ang misis mo!”

Wala na akong masabi. Napakarami ko sanang gustong sabihin. Gusto ko na ngang buksan yung pinto at magpagulong gulong na sa labas, para lang makalayo na sa driver na to. Gumulong palayo parang si Stitch kapag kinakagat niya yung paa niya. Mawala sa kinaroroonan ko parang kapag nagt-teleport sina Vegeta at Son Goku. Pero hindi ko magawa. Ang tumatakbo lang sa utak ko,

Darating ako sa destinasyon ko.

Tuloy lang ng dada yung driver. Hindi na ako nakikinig. Natatakot na ako sa maririnig ko pa. Ang natatandaan ko nalang, Asim at Sex. Sobrang diring diri na ako. Pakiramdam ko, yung inuupuan ko ay puno ng kung ano anong mga bagay na nanggaling sa kaniya. Para bang kapag nanonood ka ng C.S.I. at inilawan nila ng UV ang inuupuan mo, masisilaw ka sa liwanag ng mga patche patcheng hindi ko na sasabihin kung ano.

60 na yung metro.

Kita ko na ang Papu’s. Malapit na. Salamat naman po.

Ng makarating rin sa dorm ko, nagbayad ako, pagkatapos, bago ko isara ang pinto, sinigurado kong nakatapak na ako sa labas at kita na ako ng guwardiya ng building namin.

Sinigawan ko siya.

“Manong, kung ikaw ang asawa ko at nalaman kong nakikipagsex ka sa ibang babae, sisiguraduhin kong puputulin ko ang titi mo at ipapakain ko sa aso namin!!!!!”

Sabay takbo ko papasok ng dorm.

Nakarating ako sa destinasyon ko.

Pero mukhang hindi na ulit ako sasakay ng Taxi. Hindi na baleng maging kasing nipis ng papel ang Hawayanas ko, o mamayat man ako sa kakasaulo ng mga LRT at MRT stations. Hindi na baleng matagal ang byahe sa jeep. Di na baleng di na muna bumyahe kung makapag-aantay naman ang kailangang gawin.

Importante, makakabalik ako sa maliliit na lansangan kung saan ako lumaki sa maliit na bayan ng Los Banos. Importanteng nakarating ako. At hindi nagmamadali. Hindi katulad ng karo na nagmamadaling pumunta sa huling hantungan. Mas gugustuhin kong mainitan o manigas sa lamig, mas gugustuhin kong umamoy ng limandaang tinapa sa loob ng kotse, mas gugustuhin kong magbayad ng libo. Basta lang buhay pa ko. Basta lang ramdam ko pa lahat ng sakit at baho at irita sa lahat ng ito.

 

 

That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
Feels like past midnight [Wednesday, October 2009//10:40AM]
It feels like 2 am already. Even if it's only 10:30. I wonder why. O:


Kanina, I only had one class. It was Fil and we were talking about this story by Alvin Yapan. You haaaave to read it. It's so funny in such a morbid brutal way that it's brilliant. Apokalipsis is its title and if you do want to read it, comment on this entry and i'll give it to you. I promise you it's a good read. Basically it's about three women giving birth to:
1. A plant
2. Limang bangus
3. Kuting

It's just so funny and wild and everything.
Although I see myself writing a similar story. Ewan ko. The way he wrote it, parang it's just like writing on my blog or something. Super easy reading and its super fun. :3

My teacher in Fil is Allan Derain. There's this roomer rumor (homaygas I actually spelled rumor as roomer @_@) that he's Bob Ong. It would be so cool if he were. I mean, they do write a like. Sir Derain is a Palanca Awardee and all that. And his stories are funny and satirical just like BO's. I don't know about the rumor but then, even being associated with Bob Ong is cool enough.

Still doing my Plant Care Project report. God Help me.



That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
Fear of losing nothing. [Tuesday, April 2009//09:58PM]

It's been a while, eh?
61 weeks. That would mean 15 months.
15 months would mean 450 days.
Unproductive for 450 days.
I had not written a single blog entry for more than a year.
Not one.
And here I am. Trying to save this.

Honestly, the only reason why I didnt try to write anymore is fear. I was afraid that nothing witty or funny or sad or poetic or dramatic or any other good adjective that I can presently think of. Maybe it's because i think i've lost my knack for making fun of something. Or maybe saying something intelligent when I need it. I think i've lost everything that was the very material that weaves this journal. I've lost everything there is that made me write all the great stuff i've composed for the past 6 years. Yup. This journal is more than six years old. I remember this journal was where I wrote my reactions when i passed the UPRHS entrance exam. Where I talked about my graduation and how demented it was to not graduate elementary with honors. Where I posted all the pictures of my first acquaintance party in Rural. Where I put pictures of Georgia Bongocan and me during first year. Where I ranted about Georgia Bongocan for the next two years after that. Where I complained about my life having no direction. Where I said all the thankful words and praises to God for giving me the life i then had. Where I contemplated everything there was about life and it's binomiality. Where I poured my heart out for Mikey Dionora. Where I posted all the things I won during high school. Where I narrated all the rants and complaints about my teachers and exams and requirements. Where my heart ceased to ache after writing about the unrequited love of high school. Where I squeed for Tom Cruise, Ralph Fiennes, Collin Firth even, and Steve Carell. Where i joined all the wonderful communities and posted tonnes of icons for no one's use and for no one's comments. Where I gave everything.
Where I put my life story in.
Where I put herstory.

This journal was where it all happened during the past 6 years. I am now 16 years old, attending the Ateneo de Manila University in Quezon City. Taking up Bachelor of Science major in Management. Unsatisfied, wants to shift to BS Legal Management. Ashamed of the course name, and would want to add another letter to it and take up Management Honors. Now lives in a crappily managed high-class dorm called the Studio 87 where windows leak and electrical sockets spurt water when it storms. A mediocre student brilliant enough to get at least a B in all subjects except for Math which has always been my waterloo. Still crams a paper worth 30% of the final grade overnight, and yet still gets an A for it. Still loves debating and leading yet does not have the will and want to join and participate in any organization. Very unhappy with the organization system in Ateneo and wishes there were at least initiations where i would have to at least sweat a bead of perspiration and not just have to pay a hundred pesos for membership. Has a corkboard infront of her study table that has a pin on her schedule that normally starts at 11:30 and ends at 4:30. Enough post-its on it to cover the whole laptop LCD and pictures of my boyfriend, my tropang gulay, and my tropang prutas, an intrams ID of Jorge Baclor and a crudely done note on a 3x5" index card that says AKO MISMO MAGIGING DEAN'S LISTER. Efforts to make that note true were as crudely done as the note's handwriting is. And yes, you read that right. I do have a boyfriend. He was my teacher in high school and I love him to bits. Whatever happened to my obsession with Mikey, I do not know. What I know, is that I'm happy when my boyfriend comes to the dorm to bring me food he cooked, to help him out check DLSZ test papers, to play Plants vs Zombies with, and sometimes just to plain cuddle. I just had my period and it took me four months to wait for it. I thought I was already a virgin Mary of some kind. I now pause writing because my phone vibrated and i would have to take a call from my boyfriend. The call's over and he's about to sleep. I feel blood coming out of my body into a cheap napkin i bought downstairs. This entry is getting more and more personal i can see.
Brick is gone. If anyone of you remember him, please comment.

Ondoy the super typhoon has ravaged the country and I still haven't done anything to help. I've only produced a little less than 30 packs of relief goods from the college covered courts when i signed up for volunteering. My back ached after a while so i quit. I haven't donated money yet except for what I gave in church. I feel useless and selfish and yet I havent done anything about it. I have seen enough video coverage to make me feel guilty and want to drown myself and everything I have instead. And yet, instead of doing anything for the country and the loss of it's men, i write this. Hoping I can alleviate their pain. Hoping I'm useful enough to help. Hoping to be at least a little help for somebody. And yet. I do nothing. This is the fear i have caught. The sickness that has engulfed me. I fear. I fear. I fear.

I wish I could write more. I wish I pursued the SATs better. I wish i could spend the rest of my life with my boyfriend. I wish I didn't go to the Ateneo. I wish I went to UP instead. I wish I never wished that and now wishing i were happy in ADMU. And yet, I am. I am happy. The problem is me. If you ask me what I want. I wouldn tbe able to answer. The truth it, I have no fucking idea what i want. But for now, what i do want is to write. To press these white keys already browning with 5 months' use of dirt and grime on my fingers. I don't want anything else. I need to want. I need my boyfriend. I need him and I want him. I love him. Mahal kita.

There were some things I wanted to write about before I wrote this. I wanted to write about John Travolta. I don't know. I woke up to Hairspray this morning and I saw John Travolta's marshmallow-y goodness singing and dancing on TV. And i thought of something. I thought of Pulp Fiction. And wonder how in the world can such a man portray two opposite characters. I wonder how.


I actually don't know if anyone'll be able to read this. I do know my boyfriend will. Hello, my love. When will you be able to go online? I've been wanting to see if the headset you bought would work. That would mean endless hours of calling and laughing and just talking about sweet nothings. You are mine. Not as an object but as. I pause here and think. But as mine. As an idea of having someone. And idea of reciprocated ownership. The safety of the thought. The joy it brings. You are mine. Everything that you are. Are mine. The happyness you bring me is insurmountable. Totus Tuus. Totus Tuus.

My feet ache. And now you wake. You text me. You text me, my love. My darling. I hunger for your touch.

Are
You
Still
Mine?

The last book I read was The Road. The last required book I read was Blindness. The last book I borrowed from the library is As I Lay Dying. I'm about to read it. If I get the time.


My dreams are still lucid.


That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
[Sunday, August 2008//12:24PM]

That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
Korea korea shmorea diarrhea [Saturday, July 2008//11:01PM]

I'm in Korea.

Ewha Woman's University, Seoul. It's for the International Science and Engineering camp. 

Woo.

That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
Life is beautiful [Wednesday, June 2008//05:58PM]
Life is beautiful, isn't it? No matter how "reality" hits hard, no matter how corrupt and dirty people can get, no matter how badly we can die. We have to admit, those precious seconds of real bliss... Those are the things we live for. And maybe die for.


Ewan ko.
These past few weeks... I'm relatively happy. Actually, no. I AM happy. And it's just so bad that I can't write about it.
See, life is beautiful. Someday, you'd find someone that'll make you understand that. When everyday you wish it were Saturday, and you'd get to spend time together.

Life is beautiful when you share it with someone. I found life really beautiful even before this... this -thing- that I'm having now. But when you have someone to spend it with... It's like all the glimmer in the world blind your eyes. And you can not. You just CAN NOT escape from it. You're blinded. And all you see is the perfection of everything. Amid the sickness and the death and the poverty around you... Life is beautiful.


Life is beautiful.

Guten Abend is playing, and I remember my childhood. For Christmas, I got this dome, that had animal shapes printed around it. And when I turned the knob, a light shines through those shapes... And they make the most wondrous scene around your room. While the knob turns, Guten Abend, Gut' Nacht plays.... I don't know. It was so magical. The light, the illumination of the whole room. It just makes me happy.

Life is beautiful.

Ewan ko. I just wanted to write this. Because, I dunno. I'm satisfied. I have nothing else to ask for. Except maybe that I did well during my SATs last Saturday... But aside from that, nothing else.

I'm completely complacent.
I love this.
I'm in love with life.

And most people are. Most find it beautiful. Though there are a handful that haven't just realized the majesty of living, rather, they are angered. But take a step back, and just see. Breathe in everything. It's just so happy...


Ewan ko!
Basta. Ang saya ko.

I just felt the happyness yesterday.
Nagpagupit ako yesterday, may bangs na ko ngayon. And I personally think it looks like crap. But I don't care. I'm happy. And it'll grow back. After the cut, me and my mom got on the car.

Then there was this old lady that knocked on mom's window and talked to mom. Turns out, she was a breast cancer survivor. And well, my father's employee's wife has cancer. And she's in her terminal days... And, well, my mom just visited her last Saturday. Allegedly, she was still smiling and still had the vibrance of all life in her. And this old lady that knocked on our window, and told my mom that the wife was dying.

Just like that.
Saturday.

What is it now? Wednesday?
Wednesday.

All the life out of somebody. Just taken out by three days... And that was quite slow already. Since life can be extinguished by just one tiny gust.
And that's it.
Youre gone.

The act of life is over.
Curtain's closed.


I've long realized this, you see. Long. But, I don't know. I forgot about it for a long time. And that knock on the window made me remember. I was quite bored with life for a time there. Until then.

So, when I got home, my mom asked me if I wanted to jog with her.

Wait. Now Copeland's rendition of Everybreath you take is playing. And it just drove me to tears...

And so I type this with tears running down my cheeks.

So when she asked, I said yes. But I didn't want to jog. I rollerblade-d. I put on my Christmas gift from 5 years ago, and I rollerbladed downhill. With my mom's hand in mine. The knee pads were a bit itchy, the elbow pads were running down since they were loose. And the helmet gave me a migraine.

But the ride downhill, the vibration felt when the blades hit the synclines of the concrete, my mom's hand in mine.

I felt happy. I missed my dad. I missed my sister.
I missed my brother.

It was so different since the last time I skated.
So many things have changed.


Life is beautiful. For every person, there's a different reason why. But, for every person, there is definitely a reason how life can be wonderful for her.

And I love life.
and I love him.

That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
Still ringing in my head. [Monday, June 2008//02:23PM]
EVERYBODY LOVES KUNG-FU FIGHTING!


Taena.

Taena ni Sam Concepcion. Isang beses sabay sabay sa ETC, ETC 2nd Avenue, Jack TV, pati ata sa kung saan pa. Baka sa Discovery Channel nga kapag gabi eh. WALANGYA.
Nakakaasar na ha.
Nung una nakakatawa pa eh.


PERO NAKAKAASAR NA HA.


... Pero gusto ko manoood nung Kung Fu Panda. as in gusto ko manood nung Kung Fu Panda. O:
Pero sana sa America ako makapanood. kasi, end credits sa Pilipinas, si Sam Concepcion parin ang patutugtugin.

... Dumudugo na tenga ko. Dumudugo na.

That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
Ref the jolly fortune lobster who always wants to fight. well, that aint jolly ain it? [Sunday, June 2008//01:13PM]
My name is RAIN. Oh. Wait. That was wrong. I mean.
My name is RAIN.
Wait.
Wrong again.
Okai. I'll get it right.

My name is RAIN!
<mumble> shit. </mumble>


My....
name...

IS...

RAIN.


Oh fuck this.
My name is Ref. Yeah. Say it like you mean it, beets. I eat yo momma for breakfast. Yo momma's so fat. Yeah. Period. Yo momma's so fat.
I'm too stupid to think what pun ending I can insult yo momma.
But yo momma's bald.
Yo MOMMA'S BALD, beets!
You hear?!



*Eka runs toward the table*
Oh. Excuse me. Sorry. That was Ref. He be my fortune lobster. He's kinda violent and stuff. When I put his friend...
*Ref pinches eka*
wth. Ooooooouch.
*Eka rubs the spot he pinched*
Well, Mr. Ref here complained. I'm SOOOOORRY Mr. Ref.
Erratum.
He's not his FRIEND. Pardon.







Okay okay. I'll end the play thing already.


So yeah. I'm out to enjoy another species' life. For humans have rightfully and dutifully declared themselves as the king of all species. The  "protector" and "keeper" of Mother Earth and her little friends.
Homo sapiens sapiens! : Those dudes on top of the pyramid who can catch stuff and keep them as pets.

My mom gave it to me. Her patient, who was allergic to fur and stuff, couldnt have a dog as a pet. Nor a cat. Nor a baby cub. Nor a tiger. Nor a bear. Nor a pig. Nor a snake. Nor a piece of paper. Nor a hamster. Nor a bat. Nor a slug. Nor a fish.
Sooooo, her mom got her a lobster instead.
OH WHAT FUN!
I was so excited when that patient gave my mom one of the many lobsters the patient's daughter had. [poor daughter I know how it means when your evil mother snatches your pet away to give it to your doctor's evil youngest daughter.... Oh wait. I don't know what it means. tough luck].
So yes, I have a lobster. I keep it in this large piece of container. I feed it 3 fish pellets a day. And I give it a little malunggay leaf every sunday as a treat.

Nooooow. You may wonder what they can do! What  can lobsters doooo!


Oh the most wondrous of things actually! They can do somersaults, they can swim like 30 mph. They can camouflage. They can catch flies for you. They can wash your clothes. They can even cook themselves for dinner [that's the ultimate sacrifice tho. You have to get their friendship points to a hundred if you want them to do that.]

They can absolutely do EVERYTHING.

Except, they dont.  Instead, the lazy clumps of chitin just sit all day. They occasionally move backwards. Yes. They rarely walk/crawl forward. They always walk backwards. They have their claws always open.
Oh oh oh. The most interesting thing they do is to blow spit bubbles. They blow spit bubblessss! How wonderful!

But see, I don't care. I like Ref for just one thing.
See.
Ref can live in a...

You guessed it!

A REF!

*applaud light turns on*
Yeah. You can keep them in your Ref/cooler when you have to be gone for a long time. They can keep alive inside your cooler for about 2 weeks or so. And no, they won't raid the insides of your Ref.
They shall just sit there.
Blow spit bubbles.

Maybe do somersaults while no one can see them.

Ohhh. And I forgot another of their amazing features. Oh God! How can you be so unfair to create such perfect living things!

They CATCH FORTUNE. Well, that's what the crazy pancit people tell us. Since they always have their claws open, they're like... Catching opportunities for you...


Bull crap.

Hahahahaha.

So yeah. I have Ref.
I feed it malunggay once a week.
I love him.
He does'nt love me.

That's the tragedy.

That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
The result of reviews. [Friday, May 2008//06:43PM]
"Well, my yellows, don't you all look ravishing today?" said the reds. The reds were the ignorant ones. The smirk on their faces were perpetual. Reds were the kinds that would stain your hands when you hold on to them too much. Ignorant enough maybe to put a stain on you just by looking at them. They melt you when you touch them. And they're too full of themselves that they bleed into you. They leave a mark. And they always want to leave a mark.
Even with the yellows.
The yellows all giggle when the reds stared to hit on them.
They giggled even when the reds just touch them. And they always touch. There inside they giggled and touched. The reds always wanting to leave a mark. The yellows trying to look shinier than usual for all of them. They wore a perpetual brand. As perpetual as the smirk on the Reds. And they ostracized those who hadnt any brand.
The brands were what they were.
The yellows, the reds, the blues. Yes, there were blues. The blues just sat still. Occassionally, they play saxophones and put eyeshades on. But that's just occasionally. The blues always just sat still. Always as the Reds had their smirks on. Always like the yellows giggled when the Reds touched them. Again the brands they worshiped. Again the brands they questioned.

How were they made? Just as all good pseudo-philosopher should ask. But the reds always finished each "intellectual" conversation by shrugging off the question. Reds always had the answer to everything. They say: "We're put on belts. That's fucking how."
And the yellows agreed and swooned. And the blues sat still. Everyday, they ask the same question. And everyday, they were answered by the foolish theories of the Reds.
However, they couldn't care less. They weren't supposed to care about anything at all. They weren't supposed to be swooning over the hotness and cleverness of the reds. They werent even supposed to be talking.

They were the brands they wore.
They were the questions they asked.
"How are we made?"
Those that hadnt any brand were taken to the incinerator. Where that was, they didn't know. They didn't dare to ask. They were where they were. They were what they were. No matter how ignorant, how coquettish. They all had the same fate.

And it concludes with the period at the end of the next sentence after the next.
Before the yellows had any chance to flirt back, before the blues registered what was to happen next, I open the pack my mom gave me.


And I put them all in my hand. The reds still so ignorant even before the very sight of death to bleed into my hand. The yellows for once in their lives said nothing. And the blues as usual stood still.
After staring at them for moment while asking myself how they were made, I put them all in my  mouth.
And I chew.



Theyre put on conveyor belts then they're branded with vegetable dye. That's how theyre made.

That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
Undeveloped photographs. [Sunday, May 2008//10:10PM]

i'm this unshaken polaroid photo.
shake me. someone.
please.
now.

during the past three weeks or so, i've taken hundreds of photographs. from the molave yearender, to the heritage stay in manila,  the dusit hotel in makati, in fort ilocandia in ilocos, the residencia de tirol in boracay. and none of them have been chronicled here.
during the past three weeks or so, i've seen so many stuff, thought of so many things, experienced probably the most stupefying night of my life, risked my bright sun shiny future for just 2 hours of talk, said goodbye to a most beloved friend, and won a DoTA game for the first time in months.

and i'm not developed yet.
i haven't absorbed, nor developed a picture of the importance of all the things that have hapenned to me. i'm walking past everything. i'm walking past everything. maybe not even walk. but jog. i'm jogging i'm running past some of the more memorable moments in my life. everything that hapenned is still a blur.

i'm an unshaken undeveloped unappreciated polaroid photo.
and i'm desperate to see how the photo looks like.



Okai. There goes the rant part of the post.
Here goes the drama.

Poka.
poka.
poka.
I hate to see you go. And i hate more is the fact that i won't see you go. We werent able to organize mang selson and the others para ihatid ka sa airport...
poka.
Mam-miss kita.


and see.
that's all that's coming out from me right now. it's not even in the vicinity of the intensity of the headlights that i see that are bound to hit me and roll over me.

see.
i'm undeveloped.

someone please shake me.


and someone did shake me.
but only to make it worse.
someone shook me so hard, my mind blurred. the optic nerves can not comprehend and translate certain images, certain situations, certain memories into those that can be discerned by the great grey matter of the brain.
something so massive hapenned to me. something so surreal. something so lifechanging. something that only i should now. and no one else should.

And it shook me.
an easy intensity 9 in the richter scale.

*sigh*

see.
the most stupid thing about it is this.


i have so many emotions pent up inside of me, i have so many stuff to think about, i have so many applications to register, and yet.
I'm blank.

Like a polaroid photo, containing millions of colors, but instead, failed to develop.
Thus, leaving the millions of vibrant colors covered by a deep dark irritating black useless meaningless film.

i cant even write about it on my tangible journal.
it's so freaking irritating.

That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
[Sunday, May 2008//10:05PM]
"Mga tarantado kayong mga Pilipino kayo! Mmm! Lalamunin kayo ng tsunami!"
- taxi driver namin papuntang Mall of Asia


Ang astig nung cab driver na yon. Pinaka-astig siguro na cab driver sa buong Pilipinas. Pakiramdam ko kung kumuha siya ng UPCAT, papasa siya kahit wala siya nung kalahata ng UPG nia. Mas matalino pa siguro siya sakin. Seryoso. Hahahaha. Sumakay kami sa kaniya sa tapat ng hotel namin sa Maynila. Papunta kasi kaming Mall of Asia. Anlaki fufu ng Mall of Asia! Grabe. Pero sige. Mamaya na ung Mall of Asia escapades ko. Yung Cab driver muna.

Astig siya. May katwiran siya. May laman ang utak nia at hindi kinain ng buwan ang grey matter nia. Marunong siya mag-isip. Nagcomplain siya tungkol sa parking-an ng Heritage [ung hotel namin]. Kasi parang etchas nga naman. Ang kitid kitid ng daanan, mag papa-double park pa ung mga ungas. O edi ndi makadaan si Mr. Cab Driver dun sa drive way. Dun. nag-complain siya dun. Ndi lang siya nag-complain. Sinabi nia kung papaano maaayos yun. Na dapat hindi magpadouble park. Or kung gusto nila mag double park, edi wag na lang sila magpapasok ng mga taxi at lamunin nalang ng shuttles nila pasahero nung hotel.
O diba?
Praktikal?
Haha.
Tapos, nakalabas na kami nung driveway nung hotel. Dun kami sa may roxas blvd dumaan papuntang Mall of Asia. Biglang may nag beeeeeep na malakas na nakaririndi sa likod nung taxi namin. May mamang pulis nakasakay sa motorsiklo sa likod namin. Tas tumunog na yung wawa. Ung eeeeeooooeeeeeooooeeeeoooo ng mga pulis.
Tas nasa likod nung pulis ay isang fleet siguro ng mga bus na puno ata ng koreano.
Ay. Speaking muna of Koreano. Alam nio ung Spa 88 just outside Los Banos? Ung road na yun? Bwaahahahha. Alam nio ba? Nangunguha ng Koreano ung daan na yon. Marami na daw nakuhang Koreano ung daan nayon. Nakuha as in pinatay. As in marami na daw nabanga at napisat na Koreano dun. That. Is. So. [insert adjective here].

Hahahah.
Tapos, nagreklamo uli ung driver namin.
"putangina mga koreanong yan. bat sila me escort? dapat prisidente at bise prisidente lang ang ineescort ng ganiyan! ay putang ina nilang lahat."
Oo. Sinabi nia yon sa harap naming tatlo ni mami at ni ate. Hahah. And he went on rambling about the president of the Philippines. Tapos ung mga escort na yun. Na mabuti body guard lang daw ang sa Congressman at hindi escort. Kasi wala daw silang karapatan magpa-usod ng mga tao sa daan.
At napaliwanag niya un ng mainam.

Napapaniwala nia ako na dapat nga naman talaga walang nag papatabi sayo sa daan.

At napasama narin ang mga patay sa aming usapan!
"dapat talaga wala nang escort ang mga patay. Ano yon? pinapamadali nila masyado ung huling byahe eh! Para bang sinabi mo na: ¨mmm sige ilibing mo na yan! bilis! baka mamaho pa!'"
Ahahaha. And boy did we laugh. XDDD

So yeah.
That was the smartest stupid dude i'd ever meet. :)

During that stay in Heritage, I also met this billionaire. Seriously. A real walking breathing Filipino billionaire, who wanted to eat breakfast with us. We met him, well, my sister and her boyfriend met him first, when they were in the crappy pool. They kinda bumped into him when they were wiping snot in that disturbing-boyfriend-girlfriend-kind of way.
And we met him.
He's a lawyer.
Batchmate nia si nalimutan ko na basta parang pinaka mataas sa DOJ.

Tas yun.

Actually this post is four weeks old.
It was saved in my drafts.
Now I shall post it.
And it's kinda not finnished yet.
But i have to start the new one.
^_^

That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
I want you. I don't care. I want you. [Tuesday, April 2008//12:32PM]

XD  :D  ö  :l

This is how productive I've become.
I'm listening to 90's musik. I'm listening to Savage Garden. I was listening to Spice Girls, and a while back I was listening to Backstreet. And next on my playlist is Westlife.
Wth is wrong with me?
Ate Pin was polishing the floor yesterday, and I was playing my Diana Krall-Madeleine Peyroux- Bill Evans playlist, and she was like:

Eka why the hell are you listening to my grandmomma's musik?

Hahaha! It was funny. Really, it was.

About a month ago, I was extremely hyped up that MTV was back in the promdi's television sets. MTV! MTV that was lost in our airwaves for more than a year, when Myx was all you had, and you expected that they'd play Gloc 9 any time of the day. Not that there's anything wrong with Gloc 9. It's just not my type. ;)
 And Myx, well, it had to suffice when I craved for the daily pop dosage of musikz. And it was only yesterday [since yesterday was the only time I really slept in late and only got up from bed at about 11:30, it was the only time I watched cable TV for more than an hour.] that I tried to watch MTV.

And deymn.
Was it depressing.

You see, I long for the music that made girls happy. The kind that you could just lie down listening to it, maybe sing with your friends. The kind that you remember yourself riding in the car when you were just a kid, and it was playing on your family radio station. With lyrics that went like:

  I'll be your dream I'll be your wish I'll be your fantasy.  I'll be your hope I'll be your love Be everything that you need.

Then you proceed to ask your mom what "savage" means. When the sun was behind your car and you were driving down the highway. Maybe going to your sister's school in Manila. And you'd hear that song. And you were maybe just... 6 years old.

I wasn't expecting that from MTV, see. XD
I'm quite knowledgeable of the music that currently play in our airwaves. XDDD
But I was expecting more of the... More of the music that I knew MTV played then.

I didn't expect songs playing almost every three songs with lyrics that go like:
She poppin she rollin she rollin She climbin that pole and I'm N Luv with a stripper
She trippin she playin she playin I'm not goin nowhere girl I'm stayin I'm N Luv with a stripper

And I just wanted to push Chris Brown and his psychedelic color changing shirt [no it's not cool and i think it would have been very inconvenient to bring with you your car's battery to power your color-changing shirt] off a cliff's edge. Srsly. He was like playing every 30 minutes or so.

Or maybe just shoot Sean Kingston's fat ass just to put him out of his misery. I mean, I could hear him heaving through the song and I could feel the pain he went through just to move a freaking muscle. He must've eaten twenty chicken drumsticks after that scene with the girl dancing in front of him. He be not looking at j00, hoe! He be concentrating on breathing just to live for another second, hoe!
He's 18-freaking years old!
That'd equate to.... 40 more years of drugs, hoes, strokes, stds, thromboembolisms. If he gets to 58 that is.
He's a space occupying lesion.
He's a tumor. He's a walking malignant tumor.
He's fat.
He's ugly.
He makes contagious beats...
That takes over the world.

But still. Someone really should put him out of his misery and save the world from future pain. She's having an epileptic attack. Quick! Save her!

Ahahaha. So there.
I watched MTV for a whole straight 30 minutes. And I kind of memorized the playlist. It would start off with Chris Brown, then Sean Kingston, then the liliputan lady who plays on the piano, and then back to Chris Brown and his color-changing shirt. Then maybe the out of tune new rivermaya dudes. Put in some of Fall Out Boy's pathetic attempt to look humanitarian with their pathetic video and their pathetic hats and their pathetic songs.

Someone's grumpy today!
XDDDDD

Tell me when they've decided to stop spending all their money in drugs and booze and hoes [  that came from albumsales and social prostitution from the legions of squeeing fangirls  ] and give it all to Northern Uganda. Where I bet it would be of no use since it would'nt get to the targeted people anyway.

Too much evil in the world!
Too much evil in the world.

Ah.
Yeah. Someone is grumpy today.

Add to that, the sound quality of MTV's vjs' voices. It's like someone draped a dirty panty over the boom mike and they didn't notice it so they're broadcasting a crappy vj's voice

plus the dirty panty.


They're constantly playing Charmie breathable pantyliners. The commercial showcases this gorgeous group of women in leotards passing around their pack of Charmie breathable pantyliners as if it were a communal notebook where people get all their answers from. It's not like we live in a community like that ladyyy!
Where no one would react if I would scream at the drugstore lady to get me a pack of condoms.
No one in the right mind would pass around their breathable pantyliners like that.
Even if it costs for like... 2 for the price of one.
No matter how good the bargain is, we just wouldn't, man!
We wouldn't.
Hahaha.

And the Rivermaya people. Omfgsh. Stop milking the original Rivermaya cow, assholes! You make me scrunge up in pain when I hear their two new "vocalists". Youre desecrating the classic name. Give me a 214,  a Kisapmata, a Balisong, a Love to Share, a Basketball, a Bye-Bye Na. Maybe then I'd strike you off my hitlist.

Rico Blanco, woe is you. Woe is you. I feel the pain, brother. I feel you.



And their graphic arts. Oh gas. Whatever hapenned to frankenbunny and friends? SawBoy buck? And all those other cool graphic animations?
It's like... It's so cheap-looking now. Specially the dog.
Freakin dog.
I want to feed it to Happy. Srsly. Freakin white dog.
I hate that freakin dog.
It's a crappy mascot for MTV.
And that cloud that appears to tell you the name and album and the artist. That one's über crappy. I mean, it's like OVER the crappy meter. It's so cheap.

MTV has failed me.

GIve me back Jamie! Give me back Donita! Sarah! I would even put up with KC's rudeness and bluntness instead of these guys. Even Colby. Even gay Colby. -_-

Ahhhh. Myx is better. Even if I have to face the dread of expecting Gloc 9 to pop out any moment.
At least they have a more extensive library of musik. And they gots Jet Pangan. Jet Pangan rocks my socks. And they featured Bloc Party. [!]

Bummer. My playlist ended. Okai. No i don't have the inspiration to write about MTV anymore. Write...? Or rant.
You be the judge. XD

That's what she said. // Harsh the office mellow. //Redact it. // Night Swept. //
Pare [Friday, March 2008//08:12PM]
Talamak ang knock knock jokes ngayon ah. Gawa ng Noli me Tangere at El Filibusterismo. Waw. Tagalog. I'm writing in Tagalog ulit. Yay. Okai. Anligaya.
Pero.
Ndi pala masyado maligaya.

Ahahay.
Andami kelangang gawin. Nakakabobo na sobra. As in nakakatusta ng brain cells. Tapos, super init pa. Pero mejo natutuwa rin ako na mainit na. Kasi, parang mejo super na-late ung summer ngayon. Like, a month late? Kasi parang last last month, malamig pa. At naka-jacket pa ako sa bahay.
E mejo nakatatakot na.
Kasi.
Six degrees can change the world.
D:

Nakabobobo. Pano kapag, sa generation ko, sa lifetime ko, mage-end ang mundo? Ho me gas. Revelations. Darating ung mga chariots, ung mga orbs and stuff. Tapos. Ayon.
Edi ansaya nga naman.
Weee.

Pero. Ang init talaga fufu. As in namamawis ako ngayon kahit may electric fan na nakatututok sakin. Ang init. Tapos, gabi na. Tapos tumahol si Happy. Tapos, may praktis kami ng Noli me Tangere bukas.
Tapos anligaya.
Kasi.
Wala lang. Ahahaha. May mga ilaw ilaw effect kami. Sana gumana sa Molave. Ang selan naman kasi ni Ser Ardales fufu. As if naman 7:30 would make a difference sa normal uwi time ng isang studyante ng Rural diba?
It's like, the normal time I get home is 8.
Mainly either gawa ng school activities or gawa ng varsity.
Ang tindi ni Ardales walangya.

Masyadong protektib!
Hahay. Kasi may gumagalang Mananabas.
Tapos, may quitter na jeep.

Si Jun Lozada [sa mga taong di kilala kung sino siya, ehem ikaw yon Allison, magbasa basa nga at magpakatino!XDDD] ay pumunta ng UPLB nung... Kelan ba yun? Tuesday. Tapos fufu. Napakaduya. Indi kami in-excuse ni Mama Gaffud. Sobrang gusto ko sana siya mapanood umiyak. At tsaka, habang buhay pa siya. Kasi nararamdaman ko na na ia-assassinate siya ng mga tao sa gobyerno. Tsk tsk.
Walang pag-asa! Walang pag-asa! Walang pag-asa!

Ndi na muling mababawi pa ang Pilipinas sa kapit ng mga buwaya. Hindi na tayo makababangon. Yay. Pessimists unite. Youth of the Nation unite. Wala nang pag-asa. Namatay na ang pag-asa. Ang mundo ay hindi makatarungan. Masyadong hindi makatarungan.
Ano nga ba ang makatarungan?
Ito na naman. Hindi ko rin alam eh. Hindi ako nabuhay sa mundo kung kailang malinaw pa ang ibig sabihin ng salitang ito. Katarungan.

All's fair in love and war.
Haha.
Yeah right.

Kaya wag niyo ako sisihin sa pagkawala ng pag-asa ng kabataan. Ndi kami namulat sa totoong ibig sabihin ng Pilipinas.
Sa bagay. Kayo rin naman.
Haha.
Unless nabuhay tayo nung panahon ng mga Igorot. Un. Un ang neytib.

Ahaha. Nakade-depress.
Hope for the flowers.
The flowers are broken.

Lu li lu lu lu. Kailangan ko si Hadella. Si Hadella ang nagbibigay ilaw sa buhay ko. Ahaha. Kung ako half-glass empty lagi. Siya ung half-glass full. Idol ko rin yun. Aw. I miss Delle. At ang mga pare.
Pare amishu.
Mga pare amishu all.

Hay. Ang walang kwenta ng post na to. Rant rant rant.

Kanina nanonood kami ng re-enactment ng... Buhay ni Hesus. Ang dakilang propeta at si Hudas ang salbaheng kaibigan.

"Judas, do you betray the son of God with a kiss?"
Haha.
Minsan pakiramdam ko ang taray taray ni Hesus. Ahaha. Not meaning to offend anybody. Pero ewan. Ang taray niya. Ayaw sagutin ng diretso ang mga tanong. Tapos, nung nakita siya nung babae na wala na siya dun sa sepulchre, sabi niya,
"Noli me Tangere. Wag mo ako salingin!"

Ang taray. Tapos pinaka mataray na incident para sa akin ay ung pupunta siya dun sa bahay ng dalawang magkapatid na babae. ung isa super naghanda. Ung isa parelax relax lang.
Tapos,
Ang p-nraise niya ay ung parelax relax lang.
Fufu.
Nakakaaawa ung naghanda ng super. Siya na nga nag buhos ng effort, siya pa yung nilait at napagsabihan ng masama.
Bakit ganon?
Effort comes unacknowledged is effort rendered futile.

Nakalulungkot lang.
Pero sabi ng nanay ko kasi daw
"Hindi mo pa maintindihan."

E ayaw naman niya i-explain. O ang hirap. Kay hirap intindihin ng tinuturo ng Messiah.

Bakit nga pala ba naging bakasyon time ang Holy Week? Fufu. Nagugutom ako. Isang beses lang ako kumain mejo ngayong araw na to. O:
Haha.
Fasting and Abstinence. E ang sankatauhan ay namamasyal o kaya naman nagliligalig sa mga beach. ._.'

Hahay. Wala na ako masabi. Naliligayahan ako tumitig dun sa blue na LED nung phone ko. Nakahuhumaling siya. O:

Ewan ko. Kita niyo? Natusta neurons ko ng init ng panahon.

Miss ko na magmahal.
Gusto ko magmahal. Kasi, mas masarap na pakiramdam ang tustadong neurons gawa ng kilig kesa sa tustadong neurons gawa ng init.
Kurne ung latter.
Bliss ung former.

Ewan. Onga pala. Dun sa soc stud nung Monday. Fufu. Wahahahahah. Ang gulo gulo. Parang buhok sa kilikili. Wala na ako sasabihin pa, sapagkat na-explain na rin naman.
Pero, ito lang. Talagang mas matindi mag-mahal ang babae kesa sa lalake.
Walang kwenta magmahal mga lalake. [Except for the few I know *ehem ehem anton ehem*]
Langya naman. Katawan lang ang habol ng mga lalake [i am not basing this on experience just on claims and credible evidence].
Indi kami hipon! Pagkatapos kainin ang katawan, itatapon na.
Fufu kayo.
Mga fufu.

May mas malaki at mas kongkreto akong evidence na mas matindi magmahal ang babae. Aside dun sa binasa na quote nina Mha-Ann, ito oh. Napakalupit.
At si Shakespeare, ang isa sa mga pinakamahuhusay na makata na nabuhay, ay nagsasabi na nito.
Ang mga makata, o mga poet [tama ba?XD] sa ingles, ay maaaring magtago ng kasinungalingan sa pamamagitan ng rhetorika. Maari nilang mapaganda ang isang napakapangit na bagay gamit ang mga makukulay na salita na makapaga-activate ng ating imahinasyon, emosyon, at balumbalunan. Pero, kapag pag-ibig na ang pinag-usapan, samu't sari na ang lumalabas sa bibig at pluma ng mga taong to.

At ito na aking ilalagay dito, ay maaring ultimo ebidensya ng lahat ng claims na mas matindi mag-mahal ang babae. Sapagkat mismo, si Shakespeare na, ang naglahad ng katotohanan.

At anung kaputahan yan. Sorry for the term. Pero fufu. Una sa lahat. Romeo's high libido is showing [thus the hipon part], and, how there he compare a woman to the sun?
The sun whose brightness burns the eyes and whose heat scorches the skin.
It is insult.
Romeo, you prick.
Next, I would not want to have stars for my eyes. And, such a comparison may be jovial at first. But, I think it's too materialistic. Too physical. If that was his basis for falling for Juliet, then I pity Juliet. For she died for such a shallow reciprocal.
Ay grarr. I can not begin to discuss this piece of poetry.
Shakespeare was the master.
He hath captured the essence of a man's love.
Only up to that.
And up to that only.

Look here at Juliet's.

I love it when calls me by my name. I don't know why. But I get all squishy inside if someone starts a sentence with my name. Or adresses me by my name. Ahaha. Alam ko oo mababaw. Pero it just makes it so much more personal. So, points for that.
To cry for someone's name out loud.
Is a public announcement of intent. XDDDD
You see. Up to the second line, we ask for your sacrifice. And then up to the third line, as usual, you can not. So,kami angmagbibitaw. Kami ang magc-compromise. Kami ang mags-sacrifice. Kami ang magbibigay.
Kasi hindi niyo magawa.
Be but sworn my love. And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
Ay ewan. The whole monologue is just so beautiful. So selfless. So much love and passion in a play of words. I specially love the rose line. You see, what is in a name?
I've asked it millions of times before. And I agree.
That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet.
So You would. Were you not you called, retain that dear perfection.
Ah perfection. Perfection. The ultimate state of being.
To see someone as perfect. It's blindness. Haha.
Basta.

Ewan.
Wala. I still hold it true, and I stand by it.


Girl love more.
Boy love less.

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