standing up!

4:55 a.m., December 7, 2006

Life is a school…

It drizzles outside, just any other melancholic afternoon. Darkness is casting the city. On the horizon I see sparrows heading home. Ho-hum, I just wanna lay down and let the hustle and bustle of the city lull me to sleep. And just be entangled in my dreams.

So many things happening outside yet there’s more going on inside my head. Lots of ideas, desires, dreams, demons and bliss are sweeping me away… And even have the time to clean the little speck on my monitor.

I definitely have gone a long way… yeah, a long, long way. And I came thru it all with sighs and heavy breathing---deep breaths, just to numb my tears and dry my laughter. I say, prayers came-on very handy.

I have a very good family life. Childhood, hmmm, a little rough yet my hommies’ advices were always in perfect timing and still are. Whatever bantering I was experiencing outside, home-life just gives me comfort every time. We had a modest life, having a teacher for a mum and a very intelligent and creative for a pup, there is nothing more I could wish for. Nothing more... Our needs are met and we are living abundantly with love (and books, oh-my-golly-our-house-is-like-a-library...) what can a child ask for? Nothing more…

School life went on very smoothly. Non-conformist as I am, I handled my businesses my way. I never tried fitting in… you know the feeling being left-out by the whole class because people think you’re a prick, primadonna (a*hole suits best for boys) or a total snob? (Now your saying, oh well, there’s where that insecurity coming from…) Sorry didn’t felt that, well, a little. But I was never concerned of what people might tag me. I love being an outsider. I never joined the guy’s hang-outs. I could do that because, btw, I was living solo in a big city as early as high school. I could puff all the cigarettes in the world and drown myself with booze whenever I want to. Yeah, I have chosen to go the right direction. I can never afford partying while my parents are burning their bushes off just to send me to a refutable school. I was more concerned of what to paint, sculpt or how I would write my articles (was an editor in our school paper, btw.) or how I would deliver my lines and attack the character given to me in out in our theater club (might not be apparent but my mentor says I’m a good character actor.. hahaha.)

College was a little rough, and fitting-in was way out of my priority. I never tried pursuing any academic recognition… I just want to be an underdog… unrecognized but creating small ripples to the people around me. I never worked my ass off to be on the A-list. I never craved for the limelight (yeah, yeah… a really good excuse for performing poorly.) but it was all a choice.

However the foundation may have been laid strongly, reality could still shake it off to rubbles. I called it my ‘pivotal moment’. One year was spent solely for soul-searching. Balancing school-works with the war I waged against myself. It was insane. I was hanging by a thread. Everything was a confusing, hazy and surreal. I just embraced the truth that everything has a great purpose. I came on stronger, more mature and wide awake…. Yeah every single thing has a purpose….

I’d tell you what the experience did to me as I hurdle through life…. Next time.

Meanwhile I am wide awake…

Wide awake…

Naka-shabu!

coyote ugly

Sheees…(whata gud way to open this blog-totally eye-catching!) you know, some experiences in life are just soooo forgettable. Sometimes (or oftentimes?) my brain just turns to jello, forgetting all the principles I tried (read—tried!) keeping over the years. This leads me to conclusion that human being (or it only us:men?) are really primates walking on knuckles only deprived of having excessive body hair. I mean how far can we(us:men) go just to prove that we, really are strong, capable, or at least able of doing great things, THE man-all testosterone pumped-up creature we untiringly project to the whole-wide world? And I mean how far can we push the envelop to keep up with this macho image (eherm, in my most low and suave baritone voice—excuse me, what’s baritone?) which is binding us to being stiff(necked) and cold(turkey), rather than the emotional, loving and caring person we really are? How many worms, eerrr women we are willing to hurt just to prove this stupid idea? Enough with the prelude… Still unclear? Let me rephrase the whole hullabaloo, how many women are we goin’ to bed with (have sex, do, slain—these if it still unclear to you) just to boast our ego – which personally, I admittedly is bigger than my brain, two nuts and hanging appendage combined. Not that im doing this, or at least meditating over or will do in the …. Why the hell im so defensive? (and my girl-friends would chide upon reading this in unison – I cant believe u prick!---my homies would say – So your saying your getting layed regularly? Get Ouuut!). Believe me I got my share of ‘getting down and dirty’ experiences. I admit that I really am capable to be an a*hole! A 100 percent dumb-dumb. And I am regretful (and I mean it.) of my not-so amiable ways. Im just so nasty at times.

Going back to the forgettable experiences in life, sometimes urges just come in too strong. Fallible and human as I am (which my friend jeff won’t buy for an excuse..), I succumb to the temptations. I know and I am fully aware that this confession may raise unexpected comments, or may change the way how people sees me, or my girl-friends (take not of the ‘dash’) may give me a good slapping--- because they have all the reasons in the world to. When the smoke clears, (because of my dead skin and dandruff displaced after a good slapping. hehehehehe!) everything boils down to my being imperfect, mortal, weak and frail. Woundedly, everyday I try my best to be a really really good person.

And still going back to the forgettable experiences in life, I just wanna share a little something from my mundane existence. To all the reader who would disagree with me, you can nod your head and continue reading on… and to those who are enraged, you can drop this and continue living your perfect life (and your thinking now, mannnn this is good stuff!) think it over people!

Warning: Anything similar to the story is unintentional. But if it’s really uncannily akin to this, think. It could have been you I am talking about. Shhhhh. Don’t worry, im disclosing names.

Some nights ago (this could come from a distant past, never mind the time frame.) I met someone feisty introduced by a friend. I am always mistaken for being shy. But I have personal reasons for putting fence in between. Going back, well, smooth talker as I am (the RH has already kicked-in), we connected. And ……. Of course nothing happened on that night. Chill, people! I still follow that old adage—no kiss on first date (or is it-no tongue?), but anyhow, we had a good night.

The following meeting was another story. But definitely steamy and ‘callente’. (Waahahaha. Bitin!)

Anyway, I had this certain emotion which I can’t seem to dust-off. Could have been my conscience kicking me in the butt, and its uncomfy. Coyote-ugly. It’s the way some people (active people!) call it. At least the devil has devil has a name. Seriously, its how people feels after hooking up with someone they don’t love… yeah. After the booze had worn-off and urges dived down the following morning, emotions would just sweep you away… However life may have hardened your heart or your ego had anesthetized your temple, somehow you’d still feel the kick… That very instance, when the morning sun hits your face, with very little sleep and your in bed with someone you don’t even know the name or you were just too drunk that night to remember… and that’s how bad things could get.

I can’t really impart any moral lesson over this. I don’t have the credibility to do so. I just want everyone or someone to know that you are not alone…

I’m still trying to keep my life’s journey on track. But life is a school…

Judge me.

who i am hates who iv been

heared this song over the net. well, as a certified hopeless romantic(or bum?) as i am, it kinda swayed me to write. i guess, it's really been a while i tapped this passion again. i dnt know, so many ideas lobby in my head--like runaway planes landing in a really busy airport, but everytime i sit in front of the plasma tube... errhh... Blank. like this instance... this very instance... again this instance(*now im sure u got me already.)

honesty. i might be dealing honesty problem here. damn, it really takes me a while to get into my core. i must have been lying for too long that its hard to distinguish between lies and deceit(erh reality). hehehe. don't get me wrong here. aint delusional yet, (fyi, im no hearing voices inside ma head--annnd in case i hear 1, i wont answer! harharhar). ok let's get things straight... all of us (or is it only me?) are posing 2 persons to people:the ideal and the real persons. (listen, this is psychology 101!) our ideal self is the person who we want to be (or at least, who we present to people). im calling him--"the mask". he is the invincible, the brilliant, the intelligent, the fashion icon, the bubbly, the prudish-proped up,(for me--the architect.) and all the positive qualities we could think of. in other word, he is the captain barbell. on the left corner, wearing a red shorts, weighing 120 lbs, our real self. the person who we really are-- behind closet doors, when no one is looking: the shorty, the wounded, the hurt, the insecure, the bald headed, the clown, the lazy, the pretentious, the scared child (and for me the weird, artistic soul). its ok to disagree with me over this. But don't you get a little showy, all tucked-up person when there is someone there listenin(getting sick!) to your manifesto of achievements? You are not? oh cmon! you could lie to the devil but never to me. "I am just being me!" is not actually being you. ok, you go act out the real, weird, eccentric you if you dont scare the next person out of his nuts. worse, you could be hit by an umbrella by your lola, with a litany of sicko! pervert! ^&#$(*^%$%!in line. and much worse, u end up tied to your bed, all prim up with crushed sabila leaves in your forehead, and here comes the priest on top of his lungs--" In the name of ____ and ____ and ___, i am evoking you leave the body of whoever you are!(imagine exorcism of emily rose?) and if that wouldn't work (which is expected), think of mang kepwing with his sting ray tail. hehehe. at least youl met your death with class--similar with croc hunter from australia. too bad no one's gonna put up a foundation in your name. hehehe.

what im saying is nobody's have the ability to exorcise the real you. you are beautiful (chrsitina aguillera) as you are. you are special. you are a demmie god. you are enough the way you are. its ok to keep the "the ideal self" but never ever try drowning your real self. God talks to us in our real self. how can we hear him if we "blocked user" our real self. to me it's much worth venerating on being special that forever hiding in the shadows of anonymity. it really takes courage to be in the light, to share our vulnerability, but that's how we are created to be. we are suppose to be different. otherwise, we are just another face in the crowd, another sheep in the herd, all boring and predictable. come out, come out, into the light....

conclusion:

i shouldnt have write at all. wehehehe. waray karag buot. blog ko ine!