It's been a while.

Not that I haven't had any material to work with, I just haven't really found the thirst to write. Without saying much, it's actually funny how my life has turned around. Some for the better, some, I could do without.

It's even funnier how the characters in my story (aptly called Life) are the all same. But being dynamic, their own story lines, in one way or another still based on mine, have somehow changed.


They say change is good. Change is a movement away from the static, before it becomes stale, and infects everything around it while it casually rots away.

It holds true, I guess, for most parts of Life. Until the crippling truth starts to settle, and you begin to realize that the same thing your heart has been pining for is the same thing that's bound to destroy you. No wonder your brain's been so hellbent on keeping that beating muscle of yours quiet.


A girl and a boy lie on a bed, sharing silence with each other. His head is on her lap, and her head is somewhere in space. Their feelings have run away (moving at the same pace as the distance that grows, dangerously and increasingly, between them) and have sought shelter elsewhere. Their fingers, however, remain entangled with each other's.


The pain of not getting what you want is nothing compared to the pain of getting exactly what you want --and realizing it's all too much for you to handle.
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    Sleeping In, The Radio Dept.

Because I have nowhere else to turn to.

I'm tired of putting up Reluctant Walls. Of trying to subtly tell you how I feel through Facebook or YM status posts, of being witty and sweet with my texts with the mandatory smileys.

Or of looking at you whenever we talk, my eyes trying to beg you to understand, to reciprocate.

The plain truth is that I like you, and I hope whatever the fuck you're doing to me is a sign that you like me, too.

And not just a way of you taking care of your boredom.
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    The DJs talking too much.

I'm with you and the stars are crashing through.

I woke up this morning with a heavy feeling, like I've somehow managed to remain glued to the bottom a swimming pool. I don't remember, though, exactly what dream I had just escaped from a few seconds before I joined reality. All I know is that just like most dreams, it has nothing to do with my vertical life.

I sat through Media Studies class listening to my teacher's unmistakable gay-old-man tone. He was talking about period films and costumes and kulot-ng-noo; and somewhere in between his rants/lecture, I found myself lost in my own "accentless" thoughts.

Dreams. They happen as soon as our eyes shut themselves to the world and our body succumbs to the lure of slumber. It's supposed to be one anatomical massive photo-dump done by our head, to pave way for new memories. But the Neil Gaiman in me seems to think otherwise.

What if dreams are another reality, something similar to the one we go through when we're awake? And I say this not as a metaphor, but as something to be taken literally. And sleep, that action we seem to always gravitate to at the end of the day, could be the portal to the other realm. A realm where our deepest desires are made to be as tangible as the consciousness we live through, and our fears, inexistent as the balloon we've let go of and watched float beyond the clouds. Every ounce of pain imaginable can whispered to the wind, and slowly, we feel ourselves become weightless, even against the sheer placidity of the breeze. And our tears can be bottled up and thrown to the sea, where they become insignificant against the limitless waters.

Everyday becomes a cloudy Sunday afternoon, on a field of vast green, where time is standing as still as as the languor, as the trees sway to the occasional hymn of the zephyr.

And then death, perhaps, becomes the final portal, as we gaze beyond the cliff to the endless blue and simply let go, to the final reverie of our lives.
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    Look Into The Air -Explosions In The Sky

Imagery through an irony.

Imagine this.

I was on my way to the ATM outside Merville, when I saw the same old greasy hobo sweeping the street with a makeshift broom, just as he always has. Everyday. Since before I even came into existence.

At the ATM, the heavily perfumed girl in front of me seemed to be dealing with her account. And with each transaction, a receipt would appear. And one by one, she crumpled them, and threw them away. By her feet. On the bare ground.

The man, who people initially deem as filth on feet, is the one looking after the cleanliness of the world, before even starting with the state of his own skin.

And the woman, seemingly fresh from the shower, could not even keep her own filth to herself, even for a little while.

And we ask ourselves, why is the world slowly deteriorating?

Alas, the ironies in life.
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    U and Dat, E-40

How can you see...

...if you are blind?

-Infant Sorrow's Russell Brand

OMG WHAT. Hahahahaha! He makes me laugh so hard, I think I just lost 10lbs.


I just saw Amelie this afternoon, and must I say, Audrey Tautou is sooooo cute in the film! The story itself is quite enchanting, and yet the cinematography manages to make the movie stellar.

I am in love with French people! Fuck, I am addicted to their language!


My brain is currently on an ongoing journey to find itself. Right now, I believe it is caught at a crossroads, between sanity and fantasy.
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    Inside Of You -Infant Sorrow

I've smelled fire, and it is EPIC.

For the past few minutes, I've been filtering through something I thought to be dead to me.

*Cue epic music.*

My LIVEJOURNAL account! Tada!

Reading all those angst and drama-ridden entries made me reminisce about the times when I've been struggling to find myself amidst numerous personalities in the shit hole that is college. And just as I've surrendered to the fact that fitting in was all I ever thought about, I realized that it might just have been my last attempt to cling on to every inch of the reckless child in me.

All the forces that surround us in college are somehow representations of how adulthood should be like. There are teachers, who can sometimes be idealistic pricks, students, who all represent different pieces of a very large jigsaw puzzle of a sky, and plainly off days, that throw you off for more shit that's about to commence in a short while.

I don't know if it's because I've succumbed to the idea that change is really inevitable, or maybe because I've subconsciously grown up... but I know I've definitely changed.

No longer have I had bouts of spontaneous "textual rage", and no longer have I rattled on and on to no end about the futility of love. But along with the inexistence of the aforementioned left the ability to make sense of the different seemingly small things in life. It's a sad thought that while I've accepted life in a place I used to escape from, I've also suddenly lost a huge sense of who I am.
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    Homecoming -The Teenagers

I love you, even if I shouldn't.

Hello, LJ!


Not long back, my lolo and I were having lunch together with my mom and tita. We're a pretty close pair --my lolo and I. He's mentioned how I'm secretly his favorite granddaughter quite a few times. And that particular afternoon, he decides to throw a flaming ball in my face.

"You know I love you very much, but I sometimes don't like you."

Now there are times when I think that part of the reason we're very close is that we're very open to each other. But this time, he decided to underline, bold, and italicize the word brutally in being brutally honest. All I did was chew very slowly as not to drown out any word in the explanation that I knew was to follow.

"It's just that you don't text me anymore! You rarely text me, and when I'm with you, you're texting your friends!"

And we all know what's coming after that. A whole spiel about how I'm always particularly chattier and livelier when in company of my friends as compared to when I'm stuck with family. (In his defense, he was kind of referring to the other members of the clan.) The whole shebang; I'm sure you're acquainted with it, one way or another.

So I just sat there, as if nothing was really said, and waited until the topic was naturally changed. Of course, I didn't say anything in response to what just happened, because I know my family will be ready for some other kind of comeback. But that didn't mean I wasn't thinking of the perfect retort.

The quaint thing about our families, parents in particular, is that they believe our destinies are perfectly mapped out. They think that each pothole we go through, while cruising down the Autobahn in our metaphorical Bugatti Veyron (or Lamborghini; whatever suits you) is nothing compared to theirs, simply because they've already cruised past it before us. They will always think that they're having a much tougher time on the road, simply because their potholes have not yet been pointed out to them. And pointing ours for us makes them feel like we have no reason to bitch and moan because our maps have already been drawn. But rarely is gratitude on our minds whenever they find the chance to ask for it.

That is why it is always a little bit tougher to talk to family. They will always say, "We'll love/accept you no matter what, you can always talk to us". It is very much true most of the time, but that often doesn't seem the case when you find yourself dumped by the person you thought to be the love of your life. Try moping in front of them (assuming you're a teenager of course) and they'll somehow make you feel stupid for crying over nothing. I mean, sure, in the long run, it may have been kind of silly, but try experiencing it while you're right smack in the middle of the frenzy.

Of course it's easier for us to talk to our friends. Not because our families have forgotten how it's like to be teenagers, but mostly because they vividly remember how it was to have been stupid and semi-reckless, AND live through it. They will always have our best interests at heart, based on the rear view mirror. Just try telling them you were at a bar, dancing your ass off, until this guy, a really sweet blockmate you've always crushed on, suddenly becomes Mr. Smooth, lights you one, and takes shots with you. Your girlfriends will die and swoon over your cheesy one night romance, and ask if he's texted you the next day. Your parents, of course, will go straight to the smoking a joint part of the story.

Our families expect us to heed each and every advice they throw our way, because they know very well that whatever we're going through, they've already been through. They know that whatever they say is to make sure we don't wreck our cars because of reckless speed and nasty potholes.

But what they've forgotten, is that they've lived life not simply because they've actually always listened to their parents, but because they've experienced things themselves. Which is what they have to keep in mind each time we take that minor slip. (I say minor, not major.)

So with that in mind, I stood up as soon as we were done eating. I went to the kitchen and made my lolo my special hot chocolate he has always enjoyed.

I know he loves me, as I love him. And maybe a cup of cocoa will make him remember that consistent communication is not the only way of showing it.


Oh, so Paste = CTRL + V!
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    Special Needs -Placebo

It's been a while.

After a long time of ignoring my lj, I find myself posting a new entry. Yay. To warm up, I shall bore you all (like I used to) and update you on things (you probably don't give a damn about).

Well, I never thought the time would come, but no longer can I call bantay bata to report some harassment done against me. Sigh. Statutory rape is no longer the case.

I am left with 2/4 wisdom teeth.

Barely survived 1st year in Ateneo. Hello, 2nd year. Fuck.

Had a long due sleepover at Michelle's. Shit happened thanks to intoxication. Things that were supposed to be clandestine became front page headlines. As the saying goes, when life gives you lemons, cut them up and have a tequila drinking spree.

And the rest is, as they say, blah blah blah.

So, how have YOU been doing?


As bluntly as possible, I do not get the whole idea of Havaianas. I'm not as one-track minded as I seem. I don't mind people going gaga over those pair of slippers. But what I really don't get, is why people choose to see beyond the fact that's lying right in front of them, or pun not intended, at their feet.

Havaianas aren't sandals. They're slippers.

I'm absolutely sorry to say, but the price doesn't prove anything (except that you're rich or bored enough to spend that much on a pair of tsinelas). No, it doesn't give you a free deck of "be excused from the SOM dresscode" cards. And neither does it give you the "visit the house of God" pass. The price doesn't do anything but give you a pair of invisible glasses that fool you into thinking what you're doing is justifiable because they're Havaianas. It's absolutely crazy how there was a time when people wouldn't be caught dead walking around the mall in simple tsinelas but are now even able to go to mass right after. The way things look like, it seems to me that if prices were to go up to at least 3k per pair, people would actually wear them to weddings.

But just to keep my disclaimer afloat, I think the designs are cute. As I said, I don't mind people buying them. Heck, even my boyfriend wears them. But my stand on the matter remains true, that a pair of slippers, no matter the price, will still be a pair of slippers.

Just to keep things clear, it wouldn't be fair to say I'm anti-Havaianas. Because I'm not. I'm also not for the idea of those plain tank tops from Mango with "MNG" written at the back. I really don't understand why people would pay a fortune to parade around being walking advertisements for brands THEY PAID FOR to walk around in. Now that is crazy.

People. Why spend to advertise them? It seems like THEY should be paying YOU.


Splurging on things isn't bad. Just be sure that whatever you buy is worth the money you're burning.

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    Some cheapass ear rape.

Let me light you a fag.


Let me light you one. Watch the tip burn, and watch the smoke come to life. Puff to resurrect, blow to forget. All the problems that are constricting your heart, all the worries that are making your stomach churn... forget. Get lost in the now, in the stick you hold in between your fingers. Puff in, and feel the smoke fill your lungs. Blow out, and watch everything just fade away. Drop ashes, feel the cigarette get lighter; smaller. Watch small embers slowly die. Watch the smoke get lost in the wind. Forget, forget. And when you finally feel the burn on your lips, and in the smoke you take in, kill it. It's time to let it go.

Walk away, with little comfort in knowing that you controlled it. Through some representation, you had power on everything that made life so worth unliving, and that in between the concrete and your shoe, you killed it.

Walk away with ignorance, in the fact that even long after you've consumed it, its presence is slowly consuming you from within.

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    7/4 (Shoreline) -Broken Social Scene

I bid thee farewell.

I remember the ride to St. Scho that day so clearly. I was sitting alone in front, so that my Gala won't get dirty or wrinkled. I was looking out the window, thinking to myself,

I've spent 10 years of my life in this place. All the experiences, all the activities, all the fun, laughter and tears will all become memories.

My heart ached that day, but no tears fell from my eyes. Not that it was easy to let go, but because I knew I was starting a new journey. I was not leaving the past, but concretizing them in my head. Just as we put precious little gems or whatnots in boxes to preserve them, I was smiling back at what was, and closing my eyes to visit, for the last time, the reverie of that time.

I find myself feeling the same thing today, the last day of 2006.

2006 has been good to me. Sure, there were (A LOT of) bumps along the way (Good bye UP. Sigh.), but the road was mostly built with good asphalt. Hahaha. ;) This is the year that will forever be special to me, because it weaves 2 very important moments in my life: highschool and college. I had the opportunity to say good night to the people I grew up with, and say hello to the people I may continue to grow in love with. :)

This year, I fell in love.

With 5 beautiful girls I call my English Friends. Without you 5, my life would've been hell. And probably grammatically, a failure. HAHA. :p

With 4-H, the hottest section in the batch (and of course, the hottest of 'em all, NANAY!). The reason my high school life has been a great big rock concert. :) And I thank some of you specifically (Ice, Maux, Jaja...) for letting me in your lives and letting me love you. I cannot thank you enough.

With Block P, the weirdest block in the world. Laughter is the best medicine.

With Toni, Patty, and Yeny, 3 of my new found closest friends. College is fucking stressful, and you guys make every day easier. Enough said. :)

With Ka-te and Teppie, 2 people I never really knew I'd talk to after HS (because we never really talked to each other back in HS). But thank you for letting me bug you during, before AND after PE. I do miss us. :p

With Dave, Ben, Migen, and Kate (including Ka-te, Ka-te time is still the greatest!), Ka-te's funky found friends. I remember thinking, "Shit. College will kill me." And then I met them. And now it's, "Shit. They will kill me. COOL." Thanks for the fun times. :)

The doctor, for the free consultation! Hahahaha. And for letting me get to know you as a person, and not just as Sir Doc. :)

With Kim, Amanda, and Macky, for making the dorm life easier. And for feeding me. Oh, and for letting me bug them. ;)

With Marts and Josh, for letting me let loose and just laugh and enjoy. :)

With Crisette and Ro-an, for letting me get to know them better, and for letting me fall in love with them even more. :) Katipunan luncheons are the best. Crisette, Prince David na!

With Chinx, for getting the fun started! One of the "realest" people I've ever met. Yosi time is Chinx time! :) Oh and that among other things... hahaha. SEXY TIME!

With Dino. :)

I've met a lot of new people this year, and rediscovered some more. And I thank you all for making me fall in love with you. :) But there are also some people with whom I didn't need to fall in love with anymore, because they've remained a constant with me since time immemorial.

Nini, even if I don't get to express it anymore, I still think you are my bestest friend. I'm just here, and always will be. College, or anything else for that matter, is not going to break us apart.

Jamie and Kylie, I don't get to see you guys that often anymore (especially compared to 4th year!). And even if you've got your own sets of friends, please do remember that I love/will love you MORE THAN THEY ALL DO. Combined. Hahahaha. Hay nako. I don't know what else to say. I just love you guys so much. :)

My Gr. 6 kada (with the addition of a few new faces), you guys know who you are. I am who I am because of you. :)

My 2-A people. Again, you guys know who you are. Thank you for giving me a chance. I <3 and miss you! :)

The orch, the artists and musicians, for all the fun, fun, fun times. You never fail to put the FUN in FUNKY during michelle's get togethers! Haha. :D You all taught me to enjoy innocent fun. Such real people. I love you. :) (Woohoo Antomapa, first wives club forever!!!)

And of course, Babsy and Paula. Nako, thank you for visiting me. Haha. Pero shit, HS is a GREAT memory because of you guys. :D

2006 was, and is, great. I can't wait to get started with 2007, especially since I know I'll be kicking it off with the greatest people in the world. :)

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