Indestructible

There are times when one feels vulnerable.  I woke up today without a sense of balance; as if something was amiss.  I still don't know what is wrong, probably it's all in my head.  Thankfully I have a repertoire of obscure songs to perk me up. 


Don't look no more,
Cause it'll only make your eyes sore
Hey! Count your R.E.M's,
It's comforting the sanctuary there we have
We argue sometimes and we fear we put the knife in too deep
but even when madness heads, it's only gladness I keep inside
So give me a sign

Cause we are Indestructible
Yes we are
And you are my life-line
And we are Indestructible
Yes we are

Hey, hey, you can be wicked
And you know I can be fickle sometimes too, y'know
Maybe you're my better side
Or maybe you annoy me to the point of where I'm holding this
Gun against your head, but I never said we have the same free spirit,
tell me will you cry? Don't cry
So give me a sign

Cause we are Indestructible
Yeah we are
And you are my life-line
And we are Indestructible
Yes we are

You take me as I am, mister
I've a little red devil on my shoe
You always stay real strong
You can take the rough with the smooth
And I know that we forget what we mean to say
Too proud sometimes
Guess we're only human

Cause we are Indestructible
Yeah we are
And you are my life-line
We are Indestructible
Yes we are
So give me a sign

We just have to remember that even though we may be vulnerable, what harms us -- whether real or imagined -- couldn't destroy us without our consent.

The Rubdown

Walking home to my jeepney stop after my post-game dinner, I notice this person at the other side of the street raise his shirt up and rub his stomach.  Clad in walking shorts and basketball jersey, I surmised that he is probably from around the area; maybe from one of the houses near the bridge.  I cross the street and do not make eye contact.


After a while, I see him leave the street corner; probably to go home or maybe to find a better spot.  A moment later, my jeep arrives and I enjoy a peaceful, albeit noisy ride going to my street.  Probably to keep himself awake along the road, the driver was playing 90s alternative band music to the speakers' maximum capacity.


I alight the jeep to walk the short distance going home when I see someone going the opposite direction.  More than 6 feet tall and with considerable built, I grew weary of his presence and proceeded to walk with a steadier gait.  When he was just a couple of meters from me, he raised his shirt to reveal his abdomen and low-rise jeans that promises to leave little to the imagination.  Or maybe it was designed to further spark it, I don't know.


And as if on cue, he started to rub his stomach while attempting to make eye contact.  I studied my feet until I passed him.  But the footsteps behind me told me that he was now following me.  He was still attempting eye contact as I reached home and clicked the gate locked.


This wasn't the first time I encountered people attempting a hookup.  What perplexes me is their manner.  Since when did rubbing one's bare stomach become the universal code for "I'm horny, let's have sex"?  And the number of occurrences!  Two instances in just 30 minutes.  That's got to be a record, or something!

Annie!

Remember her?

She used to be part of every kid's fantasy.  Kids either want to be with her, or be her.

She's the female sidekick of Shaider.  And boy can she kick.


After the show ended, she disappeared from fan consciousness.  Rumor is, she became a Japanese porn star.

But that was a lie.  An evil lie perpetrated by the remnants of Fuma Ley-ar's army.

She's here in the Philippines, working for one of the offices here in Makati.  :-))

Toinkz!




photocredits:
here, here, and here.    

A Little Pick-Me-Up

Sometimes, when you're particularly down, the universe decides to give you a pick-me-up; give you some answer to your needs.  I've been needing an ego-boost for some time and I got it.  But not in a way I particularly wanted.

After a slow Friday night, Chase and I decided to just call it in early, for a change.  My friend just got a snub from the first taxi we just hailed when a dark car stopped in front of us.  From the open passenger window, a middle-aged chinito asked us where we would be heading, and was offering to drive us there.  Good Samaritan, maybe, but the manner of his offer sent a different message to us.

We were being picked up.

Right in front of the mall, just a few meters from the entrance ramp to the parking -- a middle-aged man was trying to pick my friend and I up.

At first, I thought he was merely asking for directions, but when I realized what he was offering, I moved away from his vantage point.  I couldn't stop laughing!  I couldn't help it; it was happening right in my backyard (the mall, I mean) and because the guy was trying to make the moves on the TWO of us.

Right after that incident, we couldn't just go home; we were too flabbergasted, we needed coffee to calm us down.

I am quite aware that these these things happen.  Just last October, something of the sort did happen, but the driver merely rolled his window down and nodded to me to come hither.  I just bowed my head down and continued walking.  What made this encounter different was the forward attitude of the ... ummm...  picker... and that he was trying to do a two-for-one deal.

Composing ourselves after that ordeal, we decided to finally call it a night; we've had excitement one too many already.  Given that it was later in the night, we had an easier time getting a cab.  I hitched a ride going to Makati Avenue.  From there, it would be easier getting home.  But the ride was quite short, and I still had more adrenaline to burn, so I decided to walk the remainder of the way, instead of riding the jeep.

I am very fond of walking along JP Rizal; during the few times that I decided to walk the Panata on Holy Thursday, that stretch of street going to Edsa is one of the easiest to traverse, thanks to the sidewalks.  But the street has, for some time, accumulated a bit of a bad rep for being, well, a pick-up spot.  And no sooner than a few minutes of walking did I notice an SUV on the opposite side of the road, with windows down, and its lone passenger, giving me the eye.  Once more, my usual tactics was in order:  ignore, look away, and move along.

It was smooth sailing after that, until midway my trek, when nearing the Municipal Office, I glanced to my right and lo and behold! the same SUV is rolling slowly along the street and the driver is once more looking at my direction.  I quickened my pace and looked straight ahead, lest he think I'm toying with any ideas.  Thankfully, he sped away after a few minutes.  The rest of the walk going home was peaceful after that affair, thank the heavens.

Things like that doesn't always happen, and for that, I am grateful.  But I have to admit that it does perk up one's ego to know that somehow, someone still finds you palatable. 

Jerusalem

"YOU LOOK BLOOMING, who are you dating?"  Jerusalem could only blush and giggle like a schoolgirl in reply.  Typical Jerusalem behavior, the one that endeared us in the first place.  The group has all eyes on Jerusalem, the non-answer to the question sparking more interest than the question warranted in the first place.  No one's eating nor discussing in little groups anymore, as all attention was given to Jerusalem.  Still no answer, only that sweet, adorable smile.

One after another, the group uttered a name, trying to elicit a reaction from Jerusalem.  With each name given, only a giggle and a shake of the head issues forth -- no.  Predictably, more names are given, but still, no affirmative response from Jerusalem.

Stumped, the group gave up as one and changed tactics, slapping Jerusalem in the arms, just enough to hurt the name out.  When asking nicely doesn't work, a bit of manhandling can do wonders.  After a few minutes of laughing banter and not a few exchanges of slaps, Jerusalem did relent.  "Okay, I'll tell," Jerusalem said.

"So who are you dating?" Mirror asked expectantly, a hint of a smile building at the corner of his mouth.

Silence all around the table, all ears upon Jerusalem's announcement.

"I'm dating Night Shift."

----

My eyes shot open and I heard my fist thumping the bed as if in frustration.

What a way to wake up in the morning.

Something New

I got sick the whole of last week.  I'm still a bit sick even now.


I get monumentally ugly when I get sick, and it wrecks havoc on my self-esteem.


So when I got a bit better, I opted to have a haircut, and let all that negativity flow away from me like the mass of hair shorn from my head.


I had it cut really short this time.


I love it.

Hundred

One hundred. Isang daan. Cento. Un centinaio di. Honderd. Cien.

Finally, I made it to my hundredth post. It isn't much of a feat, considering there are others out there whom I admire that churn out post after wonderful post and thus have reached their hundredth in a mere fraction of the time, but I'm not talking about them now. Today (as in most days) I am talking about me.

I started blogging as a writing exercise. Dealing (eating, breathing, dreaming) with numbers all the time can be hazardous to one's mental well-being, and fearing that whatever headway I have achieved with my prowess in this second language might be lost due to disuse, blogging seemed like the great idea. I'm happy that I followed through with that thought. For a time, the posts became rants as pressures, mostly from work, arose. Having separated my blog from my social network sites, my rants have thankfully been out of reach to those objects of rants who may happen to be at a nearby office desk.

A hundred posts hence, and I'm still not over ranting. It's therapeutic. And fun. But I at least have gone beyond just ranting and complaining, and and have considered blogging about topics that are surely within my alley: myself. The joys of having a personal blog is that you get the reassurance that all your thoughts, no matter how stupid or mundane, will never go unpublished again. You have got to love the internet for that!

One hundred posts complete! So what's next, ShatterShards? What's coming soon?

Like all great writers before me, I'd like to plagiarize a bit. What better way to put pressure on yourself than to write up a bucket list of the hundred things to do before the end of the world, which may or may not happen on December 2012. Although some experts now believe that the end will happen sooner, like May 2010.

Either way, here are the things to look forward to (in no particular order):

Local Travel
1 ) Cagayan de Oro
2 ) Palawan
3 ) Batanes
4 ) Corregidor
5 ) Bohol
6 ) Siargao
7 ) Taal
8 ) Cagayan Valley
9 ) Sagada
10) Camiguin

International Travel
1 ) Japan
2 ) Venice
3 ) Rome
4 ) Greece
5 ) New Orleans
6 ) Ireland
7 ) New Zealand
8 ) Paris
9 ) Germany
10) Spain

New Learnings and Experiences
1 ) Spanish language
2 ) Capoiera
3 ) Sign Language
4 ) Bungee jump
5 ) Learn to drive (again)
6 ) French language
7 ) Basic photography
8 ) Learn how to swim
9 ) Study Arnis
10) Japanese caligraphy

Acquisitions
1 ) DSLR Camera
2 ) High end laptop
3 ) Hiking shoes
4 ) Tent and camping gear
5 ) Wi-fi capable phone
6 ) Mp3 player
7 ) Professional-grade kitchen
8 ) 48-inch Plasma or LED TV
9 ) 3-bedroom Condo unit
10) Lake-side weekend home

Personal Care and Improvement
1 ) Get new glasses
2 ) Achieve a 6-pack abs
3 ) Obtain actual biceps
4 ) Run a marathon
5 ) Learn to play the Shogi
6 ) Improve at chess
7 ) Get a Master's Degree
8 ) Receive a Palanca award
9 ) Fix my scoliosis
10) Cure my insomnia

Books
1 ) Read Noli and Fili in the original Spanish
2 ) Read (and understand) Tolstoy
3 ) Read (and enjoy) Ibong Adarna
4 ) Read a Bronte book
5 ) Obtain a signed hardcover copy of Neil Gaiman's American Gods
6 ) Buy the complete Sandman series
7 ) Read A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking
8 ) Have my copy of Insomnia signed by Stephen King
9 ) Finish my backlog of books (16 books total)
10) Finish wrapping in plastic my book backlog (20+ books)

Movies
1 ) Watch all Cinemalaya entries
2 ) Attend the Cannes Film Festival
3 ) Gatecrash my way into the Oscars awards night
4 ) Watch Ploning with mom
5 ) See a film starring Fernando Poe Sr.
6 ) Watch the Cassablanca
7 ) Watch Schindler's List without squirming
8 ) Watch a Kurosawa film
9 ) Watch The Rising Sun
10) See Diabolique in the original French

Finances
1 ) Million-peso savings account
2 ) Significant blue-chip stock portfolio
3 ) Time deposit and trust funds enough for me to live off the interest
4 ) Own a restaurant franchise
5 ) Donate a significant amount to charity
6 ) Travel the world on a full budget
7 ) Contribute in paying off the family's debts
8 ) Afford a 90-day ocean cruise
9 ) Finance a country-wide educational outreach program
10) Win the lottery

Music
1 ) Learn to play the guitar
2 ) Write a radio-worthy song
3 ) Attend the Grammy Awards night
4 ) Own my own recording studio
5 ) Join a choir
6 ) Get back my old baritone voice
7 ) Learn to read a music score
8 ) Learn to play the violin
9 ) Attend an international chorale competition
10) Watch a full orchestra

Arts and Culture
1 ) Visit the National Museum
2 ) Visit the Louvre
3 ) Watch a play in Broadway
4 ) Discover a lost Van Gogh
5 ) Own a Hidalgo painting
6 ) Watch (and understand) a French opera
7 ) Watch a Greek tragedy
8 ) Watch the Phantom of the Opera
9 ) Attend an open gallery
10) Watch a London production of La Traviata

I hope to make a significant dent in this list within the next couple of years. Good luck to me.


CREDITS:  Coming soon photo  End of the World photo

The Silence

"Hello Darkness my old friend, I've come to talk with you again..."

It has been a while since I last had the urge to write, not through a lack of things to talk about, but more... shall we say... through lack of a catalyst. Writing for me is a tricky art and a very fickle mistress that no matter how many thoughts flood my brain at any given moment, if I fail to find that one magic word to start my sentences, then they all come crashing to a halt. Sometimes that one tiny word is the proverbial snowflake on my thoughts that causes the avalanche of paragraphs to cascade through my eager fingers.

It also doesn't help that I am normally afflicted with attention deficit disorder whenever the desire to write gnaws at me. Even now, while I am writing, ideas for an excel template I have long planned to make makes its way to me, as well as the urge to review my previous posts, and to revisit blogs that I have long lost contact with. I think sometimes I need three more of myself just to get through all the things that I want to accomplish. Maybe cloning would work. Or maybe a Naruto-style shadow clone technique would do the trick. Or maybe I'm reading too much manga lately for my own good.

We also lost internet connection for a couple of weeks, and those weeks were trying times. That was the time I realized how dependent I had become of the internet. It was frustrating to be stuck at home, with no means of connection and with my mind reeling of things to do, and things that I ought to do but am not willing to perform just yet. I realized that I had become addicted to the internet as my favorite form of procrastination in the same vein that I was addicted to television some years back. It affords me an excuse to not do something that I should have done in a long time because I am still busy doing "something" even though what I am actually doing is basically... well... nothing.

When the internet was reconnected, though, I had already created a new habit of doing nothing that I wasn't tempted enough to log back into my online connections. It was liberating in a way, but rather quite lonely, to be frank. It's a good thing that I am quite comfortable with my loneliness and the quietude that it brings. It also has a certain power -- the fact that I am capable of logging back in, but chose not to -- a power that, upon reflection, is akin to that feeling of empowerment anorexics feel when they choose to starve themselves: it feels good for a while, but is ultimately detrimental in the long run.

"No man is an island." I know that, and have exulted that mantra to some people in the past in hoping that they would reconnect. It would be quite foolish and hypocritical of me if, after I proclaim that gospel, I myself would come to shun it, and try to establish my own isle of isolation.

Anyway, I am back online, and back to my verbose self once more. And hopefully it would stay this way for quite a spell; it's very unhealthy for thoughts to rot inside one's head.

"...And the vision that was planted in my brain still remains, within the sound of silence."

CREDITS: Sound of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel

Exchange Gifts

Every year, we have our exchange gift at the office where we draw lots to see who we will give gifts to. Four minor gifts will be given building up to the big reveal and the handing of the major gift during the Christmas party.

I'm finally done shopping for minor exchange gift items. For the major gift, I would have to wait a few days until the person I picked finally decides on a wishlist item.

For this year, the office picked a rather kinky theme to the minor gifts:

Something to make you hot, something for your dirty mind, something too sexy for your baby, and something you can keep for life.

Most officemates opted for the sex-laden connotation of the theme, picking massage oils, FHM magazines, underwear, even x-rated dvds.

Weird that I am, I opted to tweak the definitions a bit to fit my humor.

For something to keep hot, I picked a large box of matches and candles, fire, after all, can make you hot; it can even burn you. I'm giving a pack of erasers to clear off one's dirty mind, and a jar of honey as something one can keep for life, even forever, if one wishes to. For something too sexy for my baby, I wrapped a copy of Stephen Hawking's "A Brief History of Time", which I rescued from the bargain bin last year; nothing can be sexier than the mental farts of the largest brain in modern history.

I do hope my victim, err, my givee, can appreciate the humor I have injected into the gifts I prepared. If not, then she would just have to live with it, as I'm not in the mood for buying cheap underwear and pirated dvds.

Love, in Nerd-speak.

r=3(1-sin thetha)

So you see, love can be expressed as a mathematical equation after all. :-)

Attention Deficit: Mini Updates

It's crunchtime once again (what else is new) and I can't make my mind stop and focus on writing. I do have some posts in mind, and I'm aching to pen them, but nothing comes out the moment I face a blank sheet with pen in hand. To unburden me of my thoughts, I'm opting for this mini-post to tide me over until that time that I can produce something of significance.



Fe Comes Back

After its successful run in the Cinemalaya, Fe went to Chicago and then to New Delhi to compete in the international scene.

The Rapture of Fe now returns home for commercial screenings at Robinson's Galleria and Robinson's Place Ermita starting November 11.

You'd have to hurry, though, because Fe will disappear once more once the Vampires and Warewolves of New Moon attack.

For more info about the film, go to their webisite.











Attention-grabber

I went inside 7-Eleven to buy foostuffs when I saw this lollipop's new packaging.

Placed inside a flip-top box and with matching "warning note" on the label, the package reminds me of cigarette cases. I guess chupa chups are now marketing themselves as alternatives to smoking for those trying to quit the habit.

Whether the marketing ploy works or not, their "warning note" is hillarious! Sucking does not kill, indeed.

Astro!

Astro Voice

I have formed the habit of using my earphones to listen to the radio while at work. I find that it soothes me, and minimizes the toxicity I feel. Also, it frees me of unnecessary distractions that would make me lose focus at my work: people tend not to ask questions when they see you have something covering your ears. It does leave me behind of the latest office mumbles and grumbles, but I tend not to delve into those anyways, so it isn’t quite a loss; merely my antisocial tendency rearing its snobbish head.

Last week, as I was listening to my lunch-hour duo run their show, something curious happened: a new listener called in time for one of their more famous contests. I didn’t give too much thought to that, except that the way the caller pronounced Makati was rather odd – it was familiar. The caller was not able to beat the best damn buzzer in fm radio, but he did give her a scare. For that – and probably for M’katy – the caller was awarded a consolation prize.

A few minutes later, I got an sms from EyviCat, inquiring if I were listening to the radio, and informing me that he won tickets to Astro Boy for almost beating Suzy.

Astro Bus
Unfortunately for EyviCat, his work schedule precludes him from being able to attend the premier screening. Fortunately for me, I was one of the first people EyviCat offered the tickets to. And so, mere minutes after 6 pm, I clocked off and set my pace to go to Mega Mall, braving the traffic along Pasong Tamo, and wishing for powers to disintegrate vehicular traffic to get to my destination faster.

I have learned, to my detriment, that taking the bus along Buendia to go to Edsa on a weekday rush hour is the surest way to get late to any appointment. More than the bottlenecks, the constant stops to wait for more passengers will eat your time more effectively than a Hoover sucks dirt. That is why I have learned to brave the MRT, sacrificing my need for personal space in exchange for speed. That is no laughing matter, considering that on its better days, the trains can get so tightly packed, it borders on achieving critical mass, thereby creating a black hole.

I got to the venue at around 7.15, making good time by being a few minutes earlier than the rush-hour horde. I whiled the time by walking around the mall for a better part of an hour while waiting for Gentle to arrive, knowing full well that when organizers tell you 7.30, it means that the show will start an hour hence.

Astro Boy

The movie was good and funny, though it deviated from the original story line to make for a more concise film. Thankfully, its essence was intact, and you can feel for Astro as he makes his way to find acceptance. Both boy and robot, but not belonging to either realm, Astro’s story is relatable in different levels. His yearning to belong and find his place in the world is shared by many people; much like my quest for rocket-powered red boots that would enable me to fly; it is universal in appeal.

Purists for the manga and the anime might have reason to complain about how the film was rendered, but I myself don’t mind. Though I grew up with the anime, I honestly don’t remember much about Astro’s earlier adventures. What I do remember is his unique hairstyle and his omnipresent boots, which is as much of a trademark of Astro’s as his butt machine gun.

The key to enjoying this movie, as with all other adaptations, is to forget the source material. Without something to compare to, movies like this could be experienced in its own separate light, and it frees you from feeling resentment and disappointment that the finished product is inferior to its source, because let’s face it, very few adaptations will ever surpass the awe and nostalgia that the original material brought us.

Astro Voyeur
Going out of the cinema, I suggested to Gentle that we head first to the nearest restroom to releive ourselves of the drink we downed while watching.

There is an unspoken rule when using public urinals wherein you should situate yourself one urinal apart from the next person. Seeing five empty urinals, I made a beeline for the middle urinal to do my thing. I was rather put off when a stranger moved to my left, considering that there is a perfectly usable unit further on either side, and a whole row farther inward of the restroom. Consider my shock when I saw this stranger, through my peripheral vision, start peeking over the barriers into my side of the urinal.

Having let go of control over my baldder, I had no choice but to suffer those invasive eyes until I was able to empty that well of amber liquid. To rid myself of mounting unease, I focused on myself and refused to acknowledge the stranger's existence. After I'm done, I turn to the line of sinks and see Gentle with impish glee in his eyes, having witnessed the stranger's blatant harassment; I roll my eyes at him. We exit the restroom and try to put as much distance between us and the voyeur.

Astro!
Weirdness aside, it was a fun night for movies, and seeing Astro Boy once more was like seeing a long lost childhood friend. Memories become legend, and it was enjoyable stripping those myths to find out the truth hidden in the memory.

Someone commented before that everyting is cyclical, and seeing today's trends, I believe that the statement has more than just a spark a truth in it. With Transformers, G. I. Joe, Fame, and now Astro Boy, making it big, you'd think that we're all back in the 80s.

This is a good time to be young again.