Thursday, August 28, 2008

sean's major strike.

In the wee hours of the morning, Sean had the luxury to break the punchbowl into gazillion pieces. It was a statement, in a way, because the rest of the plates, soup bowls, and glasses broke with it. The plan was to let the punchbowl plunge, let it smash indiscriminately, and create a loud bang as an aftereffect. It was perfect, I must admit.

We now have nine plates left of different sizes, color, and design, a tall glass, a short glass, two small coffee cups, a couple of mini soup bowls, and a saucer. Spoons, forks, and knives don’t break so there still there. The best thing: Sean got away with it.

The morning after, Sean went to my room and slept on my bed. Gago lang. The poor thing felt something was utterly wrong. And for us, shopping for dining implements tops our weekend to-do list.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

surviving something quickie.

I am not claustrophobic. There is a certain kind of pleasure that one can exhaust from anything that’s tight. Spare me your own interpretations. But, sometimes I enjoy places that force you to be intimate. Well, except for the men’s CR.

Rather than waiting in the open streets of Cubao, QC, me and my friends decided to wait inside a fastfood chain (codename: Bida ang Saya!). Frankly, we have no plans in ordering food. The Treehouse made us poor. The afternoon rain made the breeze cool ‘til night so urinary bladders tend to get a little busy filling up and emptying fluid. Ergo, we just needed pee bowls.

First shot at comfort failed because when I tried to get into the fastfood chain’s CR, a man was like holding the door against me. Did I mention there were three men inside? I wasn’t welcome so I waited. Minutes later, one man went out and I tried to force myself in. And guess what? Masikip pa rin sa loob. The CR was like connected to the Floo Network. There was an addition inside. Where did he came from, I do not know. I had to sit again.

For a CR with a size of four decent cubicles combined and a threat of a soon to drip pee, this time, I know I have to assert my right. Two men were left and I was successful. The new problem: a middle aged man was standing immediately behind me. The other one was standing in front of the mirror for … 30 minutes (this man never went out from the moment I tried getting in). You can feel the greenness in their bloods. It’s so strong you can’t miss it.

Fuck. I was so afraid to be butt-grabbed while letting the pain flow. I had to rush things, washed my hands with soft water, and I was out.

The man who stood behind me went out after 30 minutes or so (or am I exaggerating?). The other man followed shortly after with his shirt a little messed up, shoulder tensed, and pants … not that well fixed. Carlos knew what I was thinking. Things happened fast. What do they call that? Ah! A quickie, I suppose.

And so I was right. He was waiting for voluntary preys. They were waiting for voluntary preys. Or better yet, they were both predators consuming on each other – own goods to be consumed for their own tastes.

Disgusting, I know. For such practice that’s too associated with their kind, they should have been more discreet. Let’s avoid terms but quote Carlos in the end, “ang masama at pangit d’yan, ganon na nga sila, ganon pa ginagawa nila.”

Feed on you whims, feed for as long as you like. But never go over the bounds of respect – for self, for others, for the belief, for the world. We are forms of discourse. We are reflections of what we do. Do things a little more respectful – even not in quickies – but on things as a whole.

Yes Marko. I saw you yester night. Too abashed to say hi. Next time, promise.

Rachel this was the night of your birthday.

I survived the predators because I avoided the eyes. Don’t look, if you want to be spared.

Monday, August 25, 2008

kapag ibig.


I’m never bothered with the fact that I haven’t committed myself in a formal, lasting relationship. For one, I never liked the idea of them taking total control over me. I don’t want to be stalked. I don’t want to be asked every morning, noon, night (excluding in betweens) if I’m ok or I have eaten already. My parents raised me to be independent. I have learned to take care of myself and I think I can do it better than everybody else (parents do it best, of course). But since a lot of people started bugging me about this idea, let’s talk about it.

I am not afraid of commitments. What I am afraid of is not being able to fulfill what I signed up for. When things get closer, I know it’s time to let go. I find it weird that I hate the idea of my affection being reciprocated equally – imbalance must exist for us to achieve balance. I give more, you give less and vice versa. When one can’t give more than the other, then it’s also the time to let go.

It’s funny (and a little grotesque) that my email inbox is joining the bandwagon to stimulate the idea of romantic relationships.


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And of course, expect friends who will send you quotes like these:


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totoo naman di ba?

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One more thing, the idea of courting. Well, I know that some people think it’s important but, can we cut ourselves some slack? Let’s get to know each other minus the cheesy, chummy thingy that comes with the package. It’s better, I think, trust me.

But when you’re surrounded with people that are committed, one can’t help but to contemplate (notice the choice of words) on the things that might have happened if you gave in. I know a romantic relationship also comes with perks. Sabi ko nga, for the sake of experience, the first one to court me or the first one to tell me that they’re willing to try a relationship with me would get me easily. But, I know! How … creative and imaginative of me. A friend also sent me a quote about this one. It says:


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Indeed, love is not a status. I’m always in love and I don’t need a label for it to be affirmed. That’s my reality. Pag-ibig nga eh. Gets? ‘Pag … ibig. Kapag ibig. Therefore, it’s a choice. Besides, my throat hurts enough to cause a diversion on such issues. Ang labo.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

THANKS: we all played the game, let's all hope for the best.

The UPDS application period is a lot like drag racing. It was fast, exhilarating, and fulfilling. The past two months made me realize the higher value of friends more than their value that I already know – they made me faster, higher, stronger (tieback to Olympics since it’s closing as of typing time). Anyways, I’m taking this chance to thank everybody.

TO MY UPDS CO-APP 2008
I love you all. You made hard things enjoyable. You’re all stimulating and refreshing. I wish us all good luck!


Maan: Partner. Thank you so much for staying by my side. I know I’ve been bitchy at times. Sorry. We can do this. Think positive.

Angelo: For some odd reasons, your message on my sigsheet was a memorable one. It says: Thisizit. I hope it is. Thanks!

Katherine Calderon: Math major ka ba talaga? Kidding. Thank you talaga. You were always there when I needed someone to tolerate my crazy moments.

Pearl: You’re a great driver! I’m awed with your generosity and OCness. I enjoyed our chitchats while driving around and around and around. Two thumbs up!

Nica: You’re great! Your future is so bright. Don’t be hard on yourself. Believe in THE SECRET and good things will happen. Always think positive.

Trix: I believe that you can be a great accountant. You’re great as a debater, but more importantly as a person. Stay humble and nice.

Ayze: Mini-mock best speaker! Stay perky and you must realize that at some point you need to eat pork. Try Monterey! Their pigs doesn’t eat poop.

Joy: Thanks for the pictures. Take care of your heart (as in the heart that pumps blood). I envy your violin. You’re one of the nicest people in the batch.

Kat: Same goes to you. Stay kind, humble, and nice. You’re great. Believe in yourself.

Alex Cao: You’re classic. I love your soft smile and bright spirit. Deep inside I know how competitive you are. Stay safe and try to look stronger (especially at night).

Bea: I wish I had the chance to bond with you more. I find you interesting (walang malisya) Hahaha.

Jacques: YOU TOO! I know you’re a fun guy to be with. I remember the time you supported my jokes (remember Jabu and Ateng?). You don clothes in a sleek kind of way. I just realized that we always win when we’re together – boycott Beijing and unisex CRs debate. Stay good.

JC: You’ve been always strong. Keep it up and send me chocolates. Joke lang.

Riley: You never failed to make a scene. You’re a good person. You’re competitive. You always make tambay interesting.

Aman the Third: Isa ka pa! Thanks for always laughing at my jokes. I enjoy every smile you share. Competitive ka rin eh! Parati nga kayong my coaching moments ni Alex F eh.

Elferbitch: I believe that you’re a good guy. I appreciate the frankness – it makes you bitchier. [Riley] Palanca Awardee? Kidding. Thanks.

Mikee: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for being a suki. Benta parati jokes ko sayo. Never fails. Hope to joke around you more.

Migz: Migz high five! I appreciate the fact that you always keep a high spirit. Stay good and happy.

MarkSolis: [bows] You’re a good friend. You’re always fun to be with. You’re a good guy. You’re the best, simply the best. Speechless. MARKSOLIS!

To the rest: Michael, Tranz, Franz, Laura, Tina, Alex F, and to you that I unintentionally forgot, Thanks to the wonderful moment. Good luck to all of us.


TO RAYMUND
Thank you for infecting us with your competitiveness. Thanks for being a good buddy. Again, it’s not that we didn’t have a choice. We had and it’s really you.


TO THE UPDS MEMS
Walang halong ka-plastikan. You’re one of the best groups I knew and I hope will continue to know more. Thanks to everybody! You’re all loved.


TO EPISTAXIS
My dear friends you’ve been always there for me. I just love you. Thank you so much for understanding me especially when I had to opt out during our usual food trips, gimiks, or whatever. Thanks for supporting me in your own little ways. You’re the support system that I needed. You kept me burning and positive. Thank you. I’ll remember all of this. Thank you.

We’re all waiting for Tuesday. The best of luck guys! Remember that it is not whether we win or lose. It is how we played the game.


Much love. Thanks.


Monday, August 18, 2008

ten conyommandments.

1. Thou shall make gamit "make+pandiwa".
ex. "Let's make pasok na to our class!"
"Wait lang! I'm making kain pa!"
"Come on na, we can't make hintay anymore! It's in Andrew pa, you know?"

2. Thou shall make kalat "noh", "diba" and "eh" in your pangungusap.
ex. "I don't like to make lakad in the baha nga, no? Eh diba it's like, so eew, diba?"
"What ba: stop nga being maarte noh?"
"Eh as if you want naman also, diba?"

3. When making describe a whatever, always say "It's SO pang-uri!"
ex. "It's so malaki, you know, and so mainit!"
"I know right? So sarap nga, eh!"
"You're making me inggit naman.. I'll make bili nga my own burger."

4. When you are lalaki, make parang punctuation "dude", 'tsong" or "pare".
ex. "Dude, ENGANAL is so hirap, pare."
"I know, tsong, I got bagsak nga in quiz one, eh"

5. Thou shall know you know? I know right!
ex. "My bag is so bigat today, you know"
"I know, right! We have to make dala pa kasi the jumbo Physics book eh!"

6. Make gawa the plural of pangngalans like in English or Spanish.
ex. "I have so many tigyawats, oh!"

7. Like, when you can make kaya, always use like. Like, I know right?
ex. "Like, it's so init naman!"
"Yah! The aircon, it's, like sira!"

8. Make yourself feel so galing by translating the last word of your sentence, you know, your pangungusap?
ex. "Kakainis naman in the LRT! How plenty tao, you know, people?"
"It's so tight nga there, eh, you know, masikip?"

9. Make gamit of plenty abbreviations, you know, daglat?"
ex. "Like, OMG! It's like traffic sa LRT"
"I know right? It's so kaka!"
"Kaka?"
"Kakaasar!"

10. Make gamit the pinakamaarte voice and pronunciation you have para full effect!
ex. "I'm, like, making aral at the Arrhneo!"
"Me naman, I'm from Lazzahl!"



c/o Krisbert
but got this from Angelo.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

canker sores, jigs, and today.

Last week, I just had the largest mouth sore I ever had. I think it’s the size of two sores combined into one to make a huge annoyance in your mouth. I decided to stop using a brand of toothpaste that’s too menthol-y and so, amazingly, the sore healed. Makes sense? Anyways…

This week, I had the good fortune of having another sore – canker type, lower lip, right side (inside the mouth, of course). I hate it because I can’t eat properly. I was munching my late dinner a while ago, when all of a sudden the sauce touched the sore! Gahd, you can’t imagine how much I wanted to get the knife and cut the sore out. I can’t even yawn without feeling its pain.

Aside from using the traditional tawas and the ever realiable Bactidol, I don’t know how to “cure” this thing. But ideally, it should heal within 7-10 days. So that means I still have to wait a little longer. I’ve also googled the causes of such sores. And guess what? Some experts say that [canker] sores are caused by immune system problems, bacteria, or viruses. Factors such as stress, trauma, allergies, cigarette smoking, and iron or other vitamin deficiencies may also be involved. The best thing about it: sores can recur again and again and again. Good life.

***

Remember the day I saw Jigs Mayuga? Want to know what happened days after? Well, here it is:


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oh yeah! moment.

***

Earlier this day, I had fun and I got tired. I got stinky and got to lose my sanity temporarily. I went home and slept on the way; dropped my wallet and woke up just in time to pick it up. I slept on the couch with my bag on my lap; woke up to eat dinner by 11; visited the World behind the monitor; saw Sean sleeping and so I’m also going to sleep now.

‘Til the blades of the sun cut our skins, good night.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

light.

There is a certain quality in the nighttime that I lust. It is that feature that can only be achieved when the dark clouds cup the land and paints our world black. It is the mystery it concocts that excites and scares me most, for reasons I do not know.

I go home to the dark streets that warrant me danger; the same streets that I enjoy for its bareness and shadows; the shadows that never fails to bathe me with cold water while I play; the kind of game that requires solitude but above all, darkness.

I ride home to the dark empty road; the road that allows me to fly and counter flow; the feature of the road that freezes the air; the cool air that pierces the pores; I play the game; the game that requires above all, darkness.

I live in the dark day; the day created by the lunar ray; the ray that arouses passion; the passion that blinds you more; the more you give in, the more you die; the more you die, the nearer you are to, darkness.

You breathe in. out. in. out. in. out. out to, darkness.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

wrong egg.

After googillion years, my father brought home baluts (is that how you pluralize ‘balut’?) again. What’s more amazing is that he brought home baluts for no apparent reason. What amazes me the most is that he wants me to eat one! I was like … why?!

A balut (Trứng vịt lộn or Hột vịt lộn in Vietnamese, Pong tea khon in Cambodian) is a fertilized duck egg with a nearly-developed embryo inside that is boiled and eaten in the shell. It’s usually sold in the wee hours of the morning by street vendors carrying baskets with dangling chicharons. You start eating it by making a relatively small hole to sip the amniotic fluid (or broth, if you want a euphemism) out.

And to fulfill what my father wanted me to do, that’s what I did. I took the egg, got a spoon, then gave the egg a bash. The only problem is I cracked the wrong egg, so unfortunately this happened:


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that’s the balut with the chicken-egg-in-a-cup.


Good job. What will I do with the raw egg? Stupid.

to j.

Hey J!

I like you. Was that too blunt? Well, I think you know that already. Or if I’m that assuming, at least now you know. But don’t worry, I wont do anything about it. I know my boundaries and I don’t want to lose what we have (to think we still haven’t got to know each other that much yet). Plus, I know you still have commitments.

Probably by now, you’re telling yourself how pathetic I am for writing this rather than telling you. But that’s me. Call me torpe. And besides, I don’t have any plans in telling you this. I like it this way. Direct yet indirect. You’re smart, you know what it means.

This is a relief. That even if they don’t really know who you are, at least I got this out of my system. You knowing this or you having hunches that maybe you’re the one I’m talking to is a relief. People who know me that well know that I don’t really share what I feel. So good for me and you.

Just keep greeting me when you see me, keep smiling, keep laughing, be happy (this sounds like Jollibee), don’t change, I like who you are. Don’t build that wall for me. I’ll always be here (for now, as a friend).

Marc

Friday, August 8, 2008

08.08.08 (for the lack of a better title).

I don’t really know if there is something to celebrate in 08/08/08. Aside from Sharon Cuneta having her anniversary concert and the Beijing Olympics opening, what’s so special about this date of 8s?

Two things happened today. First, that would be my 5-second claim to fame at the Philcoa overpass. Well, nothing really grand. I just tripped over one step going up. My hand landed first on the step before totally kissing the dirty ground; saving my face and dignity. No one really noticed it (or so I thought) so after that I kept walking with my head up high.

Second, I saw Jigs Mayuga in FC. My friends were really clueless who he was. So for one, I looked stupid for staring at him. I wanted to tell everyone that Jigs is in the house, but he was just another guy passing through to everybody else.

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Ladies and gentlemen, this is Jigs Mayuga.

***
Contrary to the belief of the majority, Chel told me that this day is unlucky. Because apparently this 08/08/08 happened in a particular lunar thingy that was believed as the time when spirits from hell (or somewhere deep, dark, and evil) would visit Earth and cause bad luck. Ergo, we should avoid celebrating any occasions today. Sharon, Vicky (Belo), People of China are you all reading this?

***

This week was so stressful. I feel so tired and, above all, unappreciated.

Monday, August 4, 2008

pare.

pare [noun] – masculine; a word usually used to connote a relationship; can be used for male friends or male colleagues; shortened form of kumpare, referring to your child’s godfather in Philippine context; from the Spanish compadre; with emerging popularity among the not-so-straight-guys to pretend to be oh-so-straight.


It’s funny how some guys (let’s deter using the term ‘men/man’ for ambiguity’s sake) exploit the term during social functions, i.e., during simple parties and human interaction. It wouldn’t be so funny if the guy who’s using it can hide their not-so-straightness very well. But if you wear the invisible sign all over you body, well, that’s the time it becomes weird and annoying.



I don’t have a problem in having friends belonging to the various classifications of gender. My problem comes when one is in deep denial that he himself feels awkward. It’s like Pare , s’an na kayo, pare ? Pero, teka pare pa-Manila ako eh. Ok lang ba pare kung blah blah blah pare . Putang ina.

I say pare if you’re more comfortable with your affricate words – those that starts with ‘ch-‘ like choz, chorva, chuchu, churibells, chever, etc – then by all means use it. You can even use ‘bonggang-bongga’ every now and then. Keri lang. It’s not like we’re going to crucify you for being real pare .