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[14 Feb 2007|09:24pm] |
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 Goodbye, LJ. It has been a long, exciting ride. Thank you. :)
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[05 Feb 2007|11:14pm] |
I'm like a recently war-torn country, with guerillas and overzealous mullahs sabotaging anyone who dares to establish a regime in this chaotic, government-less state.
No fucking wonder why I couldn't bring myself to move to my new journal at Blogger. The same thing with those damn Yankees who couldn't let go of Iraq. I cannot leave. I have a whole damn mother-fucking issues to deal with.
Major of all these is my mere perception of everything that is. I was like a little boy, fuddling over a ball, when some nasty dude comes to grab and throw the toy away, and I seeing the thing I have grown to love and accept as my world roll away. Now I'm left, seeing the world around for the first time, ALL DAMN FUCKING ALONE.
My life had been a piece of shit, but then an order still exists. I was THIS. I was THAT. Everything is happening just as how my nature ought it to be.
No more. I'm left with a fork on the road in front of me. And I don't even recognize it's a fork on the road, because nothing makes sense to me anymore. It's like amnesia, worse because I can never get my memory back. Everything's gone. I've ended.
I'm a dry, wilted sponge, helplessly sucking every thought and influence to fill the vacuum left of the aftermath. I can feel something's going my way, and I can never keep it from coming. Whatever it is, I dread it down to my very last breath.
And you guys? What do you fucking care about it? NOTHING. Because everyone's going down the same toilet bowl I'm going. The most disturbing fact I've learned now is that we all ain't any different. What gives freeing everyone up when everyone's impaled to his own stake?
THAT'S WHY I get fucking depressed when I read my LJ Friends Page. Nobody listens to you scream because everybody does. Who are you so special to get any attention? Eat shit like every one else!
I can never get my ball back. I have just shattered the doors leading to becoming, it's about time, part of this world. But at what price. At what price.
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[01 Jan 2007|06:10pm] |
Para akong nabunutan ng tinik sa ngala-ngala makaraang sumikat ang unang araw ng taong 2007. Sa bagay, kung ikaw nga naman ay namuhay bilang taong-grasa nang mga huling araw ng taon sa lansangan ng Philcoa, kung saan ikaw ay nasa mga palad ng mga nagsisibombahang triangle at boga ay tiyak hulog nga ng langit ang sinag ng bukangliwayway (puwera na lang kung pyromaniac ka, kung ganoo'y mas matutuwa akong lumamon at bumaga ka na lang ng apoy kesa magpaputok). Pero hindi lamang ang gabing iyon ang ikanatuwa kong lumipas, kundi ang mismong taong kinabibilangan nito. Sa unang pagkakatao'y nakahinga ako ng maluwag. Maaari nang kolektahin ng basurero ang taong 2006 ko.
Nguni't hindi ko sinasabing niyayapos ko ng buong puso ang bagong taon. Pinangangambahan ko pa nga ito. Dahil tao lamang ako (at hindi diyosa, anuman ang sabihin ng pantasya ko), hindi ko alam kung anong tantric yoga position nanaman ako pupuluputin at kung ilang karayom muki ang tutusukin sa akin ng mga susunod na araw at buwan. Kulang na lang at patakan ako ng tunaw na kandila at isa na akong ganap na vodoo doll. Leche, gusto ko maging mangkukulam, hindi pangkulam.
Tuila nga pinaglaruan ako ng maligno noong taong 2006. Naroon ang naging straight ako. Este, ang buhok ko. Tunay ngang malaki ang nagagawa ng pera sa takbo ng buhay ng isang tao. Hindi magaganap ang lahat ng hinarap ko ngayong taon kung hindi asko nagkaroon ng part-time job. Sa bawat pagkayod ko mulasa paglikha ng nakaiikot-leeg na abstract reasoning questions hanggang sa pagtuturo ng hindi-ko-pa-rin-malaman-kung-anong-saysay-o-pakinabang-sa-tunay-na-buhay na clock problems, inuukit ko ang magiging kapalaran sa isang batong-buhay na gagamiting tawas panglaban sa anghit ng kapre.
Isang mainit na hapon noong summer nadaanan ko ang isang munting poster sa Faculty Center at natuklasan ang "Libro ng Kadiliman", ang Orosa-Nakpil: Malate. Nang malaman ko kung sino ang may-akda nito'y tuluyan na akong nahulog sa patibong. Makaraan ang ilang buwan ay kinatay ako ni Louie Mar Gangcuangco at inalay ang pinitas na puso ko para sa pagsalin ng isinumpang aklat na ito sa Ingles. Kapalit nito'y nakapaglakbay ang kaluluwa ko sa kabilang-buhay at nasaksihan mismo ang tingkad at tukso ng mga ilaw at anino sa tinaguriang LGBT Capital ng bansa.
Sinapian ako noong taong ito ng ng samu't saring mga engkanto. Sa takot na madamay ko pati ang buong bayan sa sumpa ay nagpasya akong mag-file ng Leave of Absence para sa unang semestre at lumisan. At tulad ng anumang fairy tale, ang sumpa ay magagapi lamang ng isang magiting at mabuting prinsipe.
Nakilala ko ang aking Prince Charming sa likod ng kabi-kabilang paglahad sa akin ng mga maiitim na lihim ng mga taong sa mata ng mapanghusgang madla ay lalake. Walang kasing-saya ang mga araw at gabing kami'y nagkikita. Sa magdamagang pagkuwento sa isa't isa ng aming buhay umusbong ang matamis na bunga ng pakikipagkaibigan. Subali't, tulad ng ipinagbawal na bunga sa hardin ng Eden, ang bunga ring ito ang maghahatid sa amin ng kasalanan at maglalaglag sa amin mula sa paraisong kinagisnan.
Kasabay ng mga kaibigan at kakilalang pumanaw naglaho ang kinagisnan kong ako. Ang uod na noon ay gagapang-gapang sa madungis na putik na kinalulubluban ay isa nang mariposang habang-buhay nang mag-aalala sa maseselan nitong mga pakpak na balang araw ay mapupunit. Ang tangi ko na lang magagawa ay lumipad, at harapin ang trahedyang magaganap.
Sa diwa ng bagong sumula ako'y namamaalam na sa Livejournal. Ito na ang huling journal na ilalathala ko rito. Maraming salamat sa kung sinumang sumubaybay at tumangkilik rito. Katulad ng mga nagdaang taon, ipinauubaya ko na ang mga ala-alang nakalimbag dito sa mga nais balikan ito.
Dito nagtatapos ang drama. Hindi ko naman tuluyang lilisanin ang LJ. Ang paggamit ko lang rito ang maiiba. Patuloy pa rin akong magbabasa ng Friends Page. Sasagot pa rin ako ng mga meme (kahit na baon na ako sa patung-patong na pagkakautang rito). At para sa aking mga loyal LJ subscribers, patuloy pa rin akong magpopost dito ng special announcements, mga cute na lalake, mga tsismis sa loob at labas ng aking bunganga, at kung anu-ano pang patuloy niyong kinasusuklaman kinaiibigan.
With that all set, ladies and gentlemen, I do my last bow.
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| Thinking... |
[20 Dec 2006|02:35pm] |
I'm considering moving to a new blog site. Perhaps I could go back to my old site at Xanga. But one thing's for sure--the era of my strut here at Livejournal is ending.
By the way, I only have exactly 5 hours left to enjoy my life as a teenager. :)
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| Proof that I can never be a good writer. |
[15 Dec 2006|11:33pm] |
Writers are meant to find solace in writing. I cannot even bring myself to write, as my whole constitution just feels too damn heavy from disappointment, that my inspiration for words were all stripped out of me alive like skin, save for three (four, if you part out the conjunction)--I'M AN ASS.
Ang babaw lang kung bakit nabwibwisit ako. Hindi ako nakapanood ng Ms. Eng'g ngayong gabi. Dahil naubusan ako ng ticket. Dahil hindi ko naman inakalang magkakaticket ang Ms. Engg, dahil wala naman nito sa mga nakalipas na taon. Dahil tanga ako upang hindi akalaing magkakaticket ang Ms. Eng'g, dahil sa taong ito'y sa UP Film Institute ito ginanap at malamang ay may sisingiling pambayad sa venue fee. Dahil hindi naman ako nakikihalubilo sa mga kamag-aral ko sa kolehiyo, na malamang sa hindi ay kasapi ng isang org at tiyak matagal na nilang alam ang tungkol bagay na ito. Katulad ng nangyari sa akin noong naihipan ako ng masamang hangin at nagbalak sumali sa isang poetry writing contest para sa Eng'g Week, ng malaman ko na lang na isang araw nang tapos ang deadline at hindi man lang nila kinunsidera na walang pasok noong Disyembre 1 dahil ang mga orgs, kahit walang pasok, ay patuloy lang sa kanilang pakikipagsosyalan sa kani-kanilang mga tambayan, hindi tulad kong "unaffiliated" na itinuturing na kahabaghabag na outcast at mangmang sa lipunan ng kolehiyo na marapat lamang pagmalasakitan at pag-abutan ng kawanggawa mula sa "kaibuturan ng puso" ng mga estudyanteng politiko. Ang pagkakaroon ng org ay tanda ng antas sa lipunan, hindi lamang sa kolehiyo kundi sa buong unibersidad. Ang mga "barbaro" ay para lamang mga aninong nagsisidaan at naglalaho, walang nakakikilala ni nakatatanda.
But of course, we can't have everything. I've had two consecutive brilliant nights with someone I'm sincerely happy being with, it's about time I feel utterly miserable. I may not be the most unfortunate person alive, but I can never be the most fulfilled one either. Now I'm looking forward to a painful chore of fixing my things tonight for departure from a closing dormitory, four trying days of living as a street urchin, and an official, "teambuilding" outing I'm never wholeheartedly into with sappy co-employees thus effectively depriving me my chance to preciously enjoy, at least for once in my entire decency, my birthday.
When can I ever get hold of me?
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[07 Dec 2006|02:04pm] |
I'm too paranoid. It seems all the time every word I say ends up meaning something else, so that people for example don't reply to my text messages because I think I annoyed them. Then I start to get conviced that maybe I do annoy them. I try to do something which only complicates, even worsens, the situation. It's like my actions are bound to wreck havoc upon lives. All because I, ironically, don't want to.
I don't know how much this is telling me of how sensitive I am to people, but it is telling me how much I actually distrust them. Heavens, in this age of fast-paced living and unreliable technology there are dozens of reasons why people couldn't get back at my "msta? Ü". But I take it instead as a personal commentary to my character. And then I get depressed and think of how much of a loser I am, of how much I am unworthy as a friend. I would even question if I'm still being considered as one.
I just want to get rid of this giddy feeling out of my system. I fear I just might really hurt someone if I don't do something about it soon.
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| starting anew. |
[24 Nov 2006|10:09pm] |
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"NO TO ToFI!!!"
Mental image: Cute, fuzzy creature popular among children and video game junkies. Frowned upon by parents and school teachers for robbing off precious family time and corrupting study habits:
What it actually is: An acronym for Tuition Fee Increase.
~~~
I'm sparing you the sugar-sweet heart-warming details. But yes folks, I'm leaving no more. From now on, I'm living.
L-I-V-I-N-G.
Because I have damn so much garbage in my life I might as well be earth-friendly and make the most use of them. Makes sense, does it.
There are just people out there whom I couldn't stop caring for. All for simply being there. GOD, thank you for touching my heart and loving me, as well as everyone and everything else. From now on, my tears will be for You, and You alone.
19 December 2006 scrapped! ;D
~~~
Cramming.
That is what I'm doing now
chasing after time itself
hoping to bother a pluck
of its precious feather quill
to summon for words to come
from which void they all may be
to land upon this paper piece
and device themselves with glee
into instant poetry
that which I shall pass of course
without a thought of remorse
by the stab of my teacher's
deadly stare, on which this act
of treason must come to stop.
...only to find my Creative Writing 10 class deserted thanks to activists calling for class boycott against ToFI (the tuition issue, not the creature).
This semester is just haunted with poetry. My first class in Biology 1 (which comes before CW 10) became a poetry writing session about life, with students penning almost every cliché known to exist on the topic ("Life is Precious", "Life is a Gift from God", "Live Life to he fullest", yadda yadda...). Mine turned out to be one-word liners which I have no plans to share here at all (and since I don't remember anything about it anyway). For the coming meeting, we are to write a poem on the human body, inspired by the film we watched which thank God was not one of those retro Coronet videos we've all exhausted watching in high school and what was PTV Channel 4.
The poem from last entry was one of those I made for Creative Writing. It's actually called an acrostic. Try looking at the first letters of each line of the poem. There.
Though missing the term...congratulations ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) syk0saje! The "cute price" was supposed to be an acrostic of your name. But since you're the only one who even bothered answering, I was thinking of giving you something more worthy. Haven't decided on that yet. But for now, I hope you (and everyone) get appeased with these wonderful offerings courtesy of Kitty (sorry sister... ;p).
Signspotting, Part 1
Signspotting, Part 2
~~~
a meme.
You are The Lovers
Motive, power, and action, arising from Inspiration and Impulse.
The Lovers represents intuition and inspiration. Very often a choice needs to be made.
Originally, this card was called just LOVE. And that's actually more apt than "Lovers." Love follows in this sequence of growth and maturity. And, coming after the Emperor, who is about control, it is a radical change in perspective. LOVE is a force that makes you choose and decide for reasons you often can't understand; it makes you surrender control to a higher power. And that is what this card is all about. Finding something or someone who is so much a part of yourself, so perfectly attuned to you and you to them, that you cannot, dare not resist. This card indicates that the you have or will come across a person, career, challenge or thing that you will fall in love with. You will know instinctively that you must have this, even if it means diverging from your chosen path. No matter the difficulties, without it you will never be complete.
What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.
~~~
This is what my new phone (a Motorola C651) is making me do.
This is Stephen Quedi. He is cute.
That is, Datu, the famed camera-wielding boy stalker, is back in business.
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAH. >:)
~~~
Fin.
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[18 Nov 2006|12:08pm] |
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DEFINE ME
and you will realize
that beneath me lies
uncertainty--
conspired by
answers
neither sought nor
divinely inspired it
awaits
oblivion
~~~
"Last time diniscuss natin ang development ng power industry,
hindi lang sa buong mundo kundi sa Philippines din."- EEE 103 (Introduction to Power Systems) Instructor edit: Anyone who first gets to unravel the "mystery" behind the poem will be given a cute price. Answers will be screened. ( christoff_jaman and wdmanuel are disqualified from joining. =p)
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[12 Nov 2006|04:08pm] |
[1:48 AM]
The dagger had been stabbed on me. And it still smarts. Yet I cannot bring up courage to push it deeper or pull it away. Often I doubt whether it's doing me any good at all, whether it's actually changing me into a better individual, or it's in fact the start of the punishment smited upon me for this world and the hereafter.
I was supposed to watch a film last night, but I ended up sleeping at seven. I dreamt being in an RPG-inspired movie. The details are elusive now; what matters is I had something to watch and entertain myself without having to pay a measly cent. My things remain in utter chaos. My bed is yet uncovered. Everytime I wheeze from the dust I inhale with gusto. I look like a plain wreck, yet I'm not a least bit bothered.
I want to snap out of my consciousness and sleep for good. Coma is becoming more appealing than ever. I want to forget my whole life. I want to forget I exist.
My strength all rests in a world of fiction. There I could triumph against all odds. I could be who I want to be. Everything there mysterious and exciting. I could disappear yet remain powerful, significant, special. Eveything would turn out all right, tragic the end may be.
The truth however stabs. And lingers. The same ordeal disheartens me. The same enemies defeat me. I thought I could face up to challenges now I have found an answer. Turns out that very answer pins me more to my fate.
Have I really rediscovered myself? Have I really gained my old, cheerful, happy-go-lucky self back? I feel I have regained this not because I have freed myself from my prison, but because I am entitled to speak my final word before my neck's set up for the guillotine. I'm a dead man walking, tried for no other crime than existing, a crime I never even chose to do.
I'm just not the same. Nothing is the same anymore. Everytime I wonder whether all this bullshit is serving me any purpose at all, that it's in fact teaching me how to grow up, to move one, to become strong, to come closer to Him. Because all I know is that I'm hurt. I'm really really really hurt.
It's like with any story I write. I start, but I never get to finish writing them. I read a book, but I end up abandoning it halfway. Same thing with my life. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of hoping. I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of changing. I'm tired of growing. I'm tired of being.
I'm declaring it right now. I want it all to end. I freak-out at the thoughts of pain and torment of death, but the fact remains I'd rather be off somewhere than alive. Mark this date--19 December 2006. This is the last day I want to bother see myself.
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[10 Nov 2006|10:20pm] |
hello. i'm not really supposed to be updating or anything tonight. it just so happens i tagged along with marphil here at the internet cafe, and so as not to lay idle in front of the monitor whilst the money-costing time is ticking, i'm here tapping along the keyboard to say hello.
next time na ang chika. oo, alam kong miss na miss niyo na ako't kating-kati na kayong mabasa ang mga latest chizmaks and bocas galorez ever wink wink nudge nudge, pero ika nga ni philosopher--"Patients is a Virgin". for now, public service announcement na muna ang lola.
sa mga hindi pa nakakaaccess ng locked entry ko a few days ago, o nakakakuha ng text o YM message mula sa akin, gusto ko lang po uli i-announce na kawawala lang po ng aking old cellphone, at ngayon ay may bago na akong numero. i'm in a process of rebuilding my phonebook, so sa mga friends, friendivahs and loverboys ko i will love you forever kung inyong maiiwan ang numero niyo dito sa comment box or sa kahit anumang paraan (e.g. email, YM, love letter..). don't worry--all your comments will be screened and strictly kept confidential.
finally, before i leave gusto lang pong bumati ng Happy New Semester sa lahat ng mga college-taking hitad here and abroad. oh divah! ang bakla-bakla ko na! kyebs na ang mood sa isyung niyayarok ni Wayne Dell Manuel ang aking self-proclaimed trono bilang Reyna Emperatriz La Stalker! i swear...lalamunin ko ang batang iyon ng buong-buo at hindi ko siya iluluwa hangga't hindi ko siya natutunaw hanggang sa kabuto-butuhan niya sa loob ng aking sikmura! hell nor women hath no fury than a boa constrictor DATU scorned!!! >;p
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| meme ni mia. |
[03 Nov 2006|10:01am] |
o1. Pick your birth month.
o2. Strike out anything that doesn't apply to you.
o3. Bold the five-ten that best apply to you.
o4. Copy to your own journal, with all twelve months under an LJ-cut
DECEMBER: Loyal and generous. Sexy. Patriotic. Active in games and interactions. Impatient and hasty. Ambitious. Influential in organizations. Fun to be with. Loves to socialize. Loves praises. Loves attention. Loves to be loved. Honest and trustworthy. Not pretending. Short tempered. Changing personality. Not egoistic. Take high pride in oneself. Hates restrictions. Loves to joke. Good sense of humor. Logical.
( Ano pa'ng hinihintay? Go na! )
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[31 Oct 2006|07:04pm] |
[11:05 AM]
I love this state of inner dynamism. This feeling that everything runs in its proper course, that every action done and lessons learned would ultimately lead to a majestic finalle. Quite the opposite of what I feel immediately after waking up in bed to find myself all alone in the room.
I'm glad I got rid of that nasty journal I wrote yesterday before he had the chance to read it (or so I hope...). My early morning impulsiveness drove me at it again. For one, I intentionally abandoned my early morning prayer for the cold, pouring rain (the washroom is a few meters outside the room), and the fear the dog had gone lose (I had heard the dog running around freely with its chains dragging the night before), so I was yet again guilt-stricken. And then came the depressing fact that he'll be gone for two nights for the province this coming Friday. All in all, I only have four nights left to spend together with him. Soon, he would be gone. Even now I feel down at the thought of it.
I shame of God's mercy. Just as I was about to blow myself up and do something yet again foolish that day, Kitty messaged me. Sister-dear never fails to comfort me despite her chronic egocentricism. She needs only mention "sex" and I would already forget what I had gone to her for (whether I was about to put her over my leg and snap her like a twig or the other way around). That day though, I wanted no else but her sincere counsel. The words of the Guru herself was all I ask.
I never thought I could ever be what I have become now. I have anticipated not being able to handle these feelings all at once, but I never thought it could be this troubling. Suddenly, everything is foreign; it still fails to sink in me I no longer am what I was a few nights ago. It's like waking up and finding myself in someone else's room; I look in the mirror and see a face familiar yet definitely not my own. I feel excited, yet at the same time I wish it never should have happened. The coin may have flipped on its other side, but it remains the same coin. My world may have changed, but I still remain, naive as always.
Time is my ally. Everything is just spinning murky at the moment; it would take time for things to settle down and clear itself out. For the mean time I'll explore and get myself used to this world I have gone in to, perhaps discover something new or two each moment. I glee at the thought of bumping at him along the way. Indeed, things will fall in their proper place. All paths we take will lead us to where we're supposed to be.
Until then, I wait. :)
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| and haven't we had enough in memoriam posts already?? |
[28 Oct 2006|01:45pm] |
Rest in peace, Virginity.
(December 20, 1986 - October 28, 2006)
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[23 Oct 2006|04:50am] |
[1:20 AM]
Magsusulat ba ako?
Well, I have a reserve of backlogs yet to be typed. But as for the main entry...
Hmm. Tinatamad ako eh. Kahit na days suppresed na ang mga dapat ilantad, all for the sake of calming down issues and world peace.
Besides, najijinggle na ako eh.
Teka muna...
~~~
*after seven minutes*
NEGA! NEGA! PESTE IMPAKTITA PUTA! Sarado nga pala Jollibee Philcoa on Sunday nights (though technically, hindi na Sunday night), and thus WALANG CR ON SIGHT! NEGA! PUTA! GAGA!
Sumama ang mood ko hah. Sa truth lang. Pota, paano naman kaya ako makakapagsulat nito ng matino aber, when there is an ever-present danger of spontaneous weewee explosion from my bukaka?? Ang chaka! I wish may mag-appear na magic arinola. Now na.
Anyway, kesa naman sa magpaka-bitch ako LITERALLY at jumengjeng wherever, here na muna ang wonderful backlogs from my ever dependable yellow paper. Shet...sasabog na ang matris ko. x_x
18 oct 2006
[4:38 AM]
It's cold. I hate it.
Well...duh, I guess. The second "-ber" month is almost ending. Two months from now I'm turning twenty. Santa Claus is coming. It's the season of chilling winds and blizzards. It's the time of the year the northern hemisphere tilts farthest from the sun.
I couldn't even go on writing. I'm having second thoughts keeping this for backlog. I'll see.
~~~
20 oct 2006
[12:06 AM]
This should've been a perfect time to bond with the locals (i.e. my dormates).
I just had a rare moment waking up 20 minutes ago fully refreshed from a three hour night nap. The sky is clear and starry. I had just finished nibbling over a piece and half of tender juicy footlong meat. I want more.
I'm sorry for your defective VCD. I can feel your subconscious wrath heading for my neck. The truth is I never found out if the second disk actually plays or not. I was too saddened by the first disk to bother check the the other one. You are free to impale and crucify my most despicable image.
I suddenly feel sleepy. Is it because I have nothing much to tell, or is it because I feel more like hugging an idealized thought of you with my pillow. I rode the jeep home with a boyish guy beside me that I seriously was about to cuddle. I really want someone right now. Someone to hold. Someone to make me feel all right. Eeew, cheesy.
And yet I know the fact I'm fated to be single forever. Besides, spinsterhood is common phenomenon. Not everyone gets one. Why this obsession for a better half? Why does my happiness have to lie on the bosom of someone else? Much as I try, I cannot do away with longing. I'm the antithesis of the Buddhist-Taoist principle of desirelessness. That's why I never get away from suffering.
It's my pillow's fault for being too comfortably soft.
*after yet a few more minutes*
RELIEF.
So nagpaka-bitch din pala ako after all. (To those of you still too slow to appreciate my euphemism--bitches are female dogs. DOGS.)
So, may I now proceed with my main entré?
Speaking of entrés, Ramadhan ends today. It's feasting time! :)
( In memoriam. )
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| yellow pad backlogs and an epilogue. |
[17 Oct 2006|05:20am] |
The Yellow Pad Backlogs.
8 oct 2006
[11:30 pm]
So what was I gonna do? Oh yeah, I'm supposed to try out something. Since all the things I plan to write here in LJ I always end up telling you alone instead, here's what I'm thinking. What if everytime I write my journal, I address it na lang directly to you. Yes, you. Diba? That way, my journal becomes more personal and intimate. I don't know, but I hope it works. I myself think it's awkward, pretending we're having out usual chat somewhere in Katipunan when in fact what's in front of me is a dusty computer screen (or for this writing, a stack of yellow pad). I'm seriously thinking of snatching a photo of you somewhere and look at it everytime I think of writing to you--but that would be too disturbing don't you think? Also, since I'm not actually talking to you face-to-face, I would have the chance (or the danger) to tell you things I wouldn't dare tell you in person. So it's really awkward, but one has to try things at least once to make sure they hate them, right?..
Gosh, ngayon pa alng nawawala na ako sa dapat kong sasabihin. Since I'm actually writing and not talking, I'm at a loss whether to write in English or Taglish. SPeaking in Taglish sounds perfectly fine, but doesn't look nnice in paragraphs. Either I have to write in straight English or in straight Filipino. Sheesh..why am I actually making an issue out of this? Eh paki ba ng mga puta kung parang jebs ng manok ang lumabas sa entry ko? Tayo naman ang nag-uusap diba? Besides you wouldn't mind expanding your Tagalog experience, diba? Isipin mo, in the future sobrang galing mo nang magsulat both in English and Filipino. You wouldn't need to have anyone else to translate your works for you! Diba? Diba? *wink wink*
SYempre tayo lang nakaka-gets nun. Pero hindi na ako mambabanggit pa. Baka mahulaan na nila kung sino ka. Sa totoo lang, gigil na gigil na akong sabihin ang pangalan mo sa sangka-LJhan, pero papatayin mo lang naman ako kung magkaganun, diba? Or worse, bigla ka na lang mawawala at hindi mo na ako papansinin forever and ever. Mas masakit 'yun. Kaya...kung medyo umaabot na ang kakulitan ko sa ganun, magsabi ka lang hah? Kadiri na kung kadiri, pero ayaw talaga kitang mawala. Lalo na kung ako pa ang magdudulot nito.
Teka, pulos na lang ikaw ang tinutukoy ko dito, ah! Dapat ako ang kinukwento ko sa'yo! Teka..ano nga ba ang dapat sasabihin ko sa'yo? Peste..ang lambot ng kama eh. Gusto ko nang matulog. Pero wait, heto. Sana mabasa mo.
Ay, hindi na pala muna. Sige, good night po. Oo nga, be your self sa finals. Ang galing mo talaga! Shucks...kinikilig talaga ako sa matatalino, noh?? *Hi Paul Mayuyu.. ;p*
MC's jumping all over me every night, telling me he wants to stay with you again. HOY! Kapag nalaman kong may ginawa kang kahayupan sa hayop ko, malilintikan ka sa akin!
Joke lang...hindi naman magagawa ni MC lumundag-lundag sa kama eh. Stuffed toys don't move. ;p
***
9 oct 2006
[8:51 am]
The reason I feel awful everytime I oversleep and miss my prayers is that I'm actually acting against my personal nature to pray. On the other hand, I feel grumpy everytime I actually wake myself up to pray. I evfen get a headache. Applying the Virtues of Tao in life is complicated after all.
Or maybe it's my own desires acting against myself. In fact, I woke up a couple of times last night. I even had a nightmare. What kept myself rooted in bed was my own stubborness. I couldn't resist the pleasures of bed. And only after the sun is way up high do I realize the consequence of what I've done.
Oh my gosh...I'm writing on my own again! And I thought I would forever have to resort to external assistance to bring my words out. Then again, dedicating my entries to conversing with a mysterious guy is cuter. XP
So good morning to you, wherever you are. Well, I know you're at school at the time I'm writing this, but hell do I know where you're at when you get to read it.
This is the last of classes, and I still haven't given my teachers a copy of my approved LOA form. My hair feels so sticky. I'm torn between settling my obligations and writing here. Yeah, common sense would nag me to do the former. In fact I'm more inclined to do the former. So, I stop here? It bothers me. But that's probably because I'm attaching myself much to this entry. Attachment is what makes departing painful. One must cherish what one has at the moment but must at all times be ready to leave it. Those who hold to something lose it. Those who let it go keeps it forever. This is the Way of Heaven.
---
[10:55 am]
Had my thoughts been cannon balls, my head would've been splattered a long time ago. EEEEECK! Remember, I even described them once as swarming garapatas. They either rob me out of my wits, or are so still and silent they must've eaten up all my grey matter. They evaporate just when I need them most. They dread getting written most.
Walking around UP to distribute my LOA forms, my thoughts come to me all at once like little street brats. It must be the atmosphere--students walking around everywhere, chatting, laughing, keeping themselves busy, pondering about their own lives, discovering something new. I would feel either two things--loathness or longing. This morning, I longed. It must be the cool breeze or the morning sun that lightened myself up and made me feel oh-so-sociable. Or maybe it's because I was walking. I'm flooded with inspiration everytime I go out. Going out makes me happy. After all, I'm a nomad-pastoralist. My life is all about moving, constantly that one couldn't tell whether I'm leaving a place or heading somewhere.
Then, I may just be missing things. Yet again.
It's like an ending clip of an anime series. Naruto's "Harmonia" plays. I am at a vast field. I hold my hand up, leaves blowing around me. I grab a white wisp and bring it close to my heart. I look behind and see everyone--EVERYONE--all waiting for me. A person or two grabs me towards them; I resist in vain. I let go and run towards them, but they all disappear as soon as I reach them. I drop to the ground, disappointed. Then, something drops at me. Gero and MC cheers me up, flapping their stubby arms. I look up and see Kitty with her nasty grin. He points to a place not far. I cuddle my stuffed toys and stand up. MC gets away and pesters Kitty while we walk to where everyone was waiting all along.
And you are there, waving your arms at me. :)
The Epilogue.
A quarter to four in the morning. Five hours and counting in front of a phosphour-burnt monitor inside a 24-hour internet cafe. Two Coke saktos drunk. Pestered on YM by a fellow insomniac fag who has no idea what to write for his reaction paper as I do for this entry.
My harddrive died on me. Nothing else in mind but the precious moolahs soon to say goodbye.
I empower myself for exodus, part three. Remedios Circle appeals to me now more than ever.
The first semester comes to an end. I dread the coming semesters.
Friends come. Souls depart.
The book of Lao Tzu speaks of long-witnessed truths.
The Holy Month showers upon me mercy. I leave the shower without much of a gratitude.
Dance Maniax and napoliones.
Secrets revealed. Spirits kept.
I went on LOA to seek my self. My self wasn't welcoming at all.
A saint rises to the heavens. I daze at his illumine glory whilst he joins the stars. The blessed ones shower the cosmos with their splendour. I bow to the dirt whence I belong.
I am but a witness, an eternal serf to those who are bound to eat the fruits of living. I merge with the elements of the earth; I am essential yet insignificant. I am the wind that comes and goes, yet never remembered. But unlike the elements, I am conscious. Thus I am forever in pain.
I do not deserve honor nor love nor true happiness. These things are against my Tao. It is my Tao to be shattered and reborn, in a cycle. I am not a soul, but a thing. A thing that thinks, and thus is.
I bow to the dirt and eat its morsel, forever hungry of the light endowed to everyone else. The gods come down and step on my head, pushing me more to ground. Their divine feet give me comfort whilst the worms burrow up my tongue. It is the Blessing of Heaven.
This is how it would all ends. I am bound for tragedy. Nothing can be done. I bow reverently to my fate.
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[10 Oct 2006|12:08pm] |
Sa unang pagkakataon, iiyak ako.
Hindi para sa kabalintunaan ng aking buhay kundi para sa isang taong, hindi man niya sinasadya, hindi man niya binalak, hindi ko man siya personal na nakilala--ay tunay pa ring naging mahalaga sa akin.
Napakahalaga.
Paalam Shem. Batch '05.
Rise up from thy Pyre to the Heavens. Thy Throne awaits thy Coming. Look down upon us all from the Gates of Peace.
-from the Songs of Martyrdom, as written in the Book of Saints laid down to us by Destiny's mercy. (Amores Celestia)
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| (the ever-so-outdated) l'aftermath, parte II(?) |
[08 Oct 2006|10:22pm] |
[9:24 pm 1 oct 06]
(Oh no Datu..you are NOT giving in to unproductivity! Go on..you can do it..you can write something..I believe in you. Remember..savor that mood..reminisce it..your heart and your words are one, Datu. Write something..anything..I believe in you..I'm just here. Right here.)
FIVE DAYS of unproductivity. This is just unforgivable. Just unforgivable. I feel so wasteful--of time, of money, of opportunity. There's just something that keeps me from doing what I ought to do. And I hate it.
So I guess instead of this entry becoming a continuation of the previous one, it's gonna end up an impromptu thought prattle. Sheesh.
Green Day is playing on my PC. I can't help but be immersed in a pool of longing. I normally do not fancy music of this genre, but the mere fact that he listens to this kind of music, the mere fact that he owns the cd I ripped the mp3s from, makes me feel like swimming inside a manifestation of his self. I could hear his voice straight out of the songs, like he himself is strumming those strings in front me, singing out loud at me, amusing me. His breath breezes through me, filling me up with his person, assuring me of his perpetual presence. My knees weaken and fail as I my eyes are blinded by his face. I feel his arms capturing my fall; the beat goes on, oblivious to my silent plea. I try to grapple away from his warm clutch, renouncing the folly that is my self-sculpted idealization of him. But sooner would I yield to my own illusion. My arms, in desperation of solace, embraces the one it was meant to keep away. His downy cheeks touches my own. At that moment, the music stops. The mirage unveils. The walls of my room greet me. Cold sweat bathes me as if all things around me were peeping toms who had peevishly unveiled and witnessed the vulgarity of a clandestine act.
---
[10:31 pm 2 oct 06]
Perhaps the main culprit for my unproductivity is my obsessive-compulsiveness. Whenever I rip a cd album, I make sure that every song is perfect. This means listening to the whole album carefully after a whole hour of ripping. Any ticks, any sparks, any skipping or juggling parts-whether real or imagined-from any song would send me up cleaning the cd and repeating the laborious ripping process all over. Maliciously scratched cds are the worst, particularly if I wanted the whole album badly. I would rip and re-rip the songs to no end until I finally give the whole damn thing up and abandon the album altogether, disturbing me significantly. That, while converting at the same time my existing audio files to a standard 128kbps mp3 format. All in a 6G hard drive and a painful 450 MHz AMD K6-2 processor.
Ever since I became a most fortunate owner of a (FREE!) CD/DVD burner, I've had this lustful desire to compile my present music collection, as well as gather more songs from others, and burn them all on a DVD. It isn't about having enough to fill my music space; it is about hoarding for hoarding's sake. It is all about GREED. And now, this Great Sin is taking its toll on me in the form of sleepless nights and a shaken peace of mind. So instead of me being able to give you a fresh account of my adventures last stormy Thursday from what has become an ancient Aztec ruin that is UP Diliman, I am here relating you all this nonsense.
But since I LOVE you, dear readers...and since I'm a sado-masochist enthusiast, I'll make your lives more miserable (and mine more pleasurable) by writing up more nonsense! BWAHAHAHAHAH!!!! ^.^
More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense! More nonsense!...
Gee, this is actually fun!
MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE! MORE NONSENSE!...ok, ok! I'm stopping! *sheesh...writing that ONE LINE AT A TIME would have been a lot more fun...
Ok, let's get down to business. If your tired of reading this crap and you have better things to do, do justice to yourself and leave. I'm moving on with my entry. Not now perhaps, but I will. For what significant or worthy end, I wouldn't know. I'm just glad to be back alive and blogging. ;D
( So so...dare to proceed? )
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| l'aftermath. |
[29 Sep 2006|10:39pm] |
Marphil never could have described it better...
tumba lahat ng puno sa vinzons hill, tambayan wasak.
poste ng kuryente at lamppost nagkabasagan.
waiting shed nayupi, nadaganan ng puno.
sunken garden napuno ng kahoy.
school of econ road naobstruct ng dambuhalang puno.
acad oval hindi madaanan.
acacia..as in ACACIA TREE, natumba.
lahat yan acad oval pa lang...
walang natirang tarpoline kahit isa sa billboards.
ni bakas, wala.
...and until those two effing trees lying on the ground on a cradle of fallen electric lines in front of the dorm are taken care of, the whole of UP would be a witness to a nightly envelope of pitch-black darkness. Thank goodness Philcoa is back to life. I thought I would never see the light of cyberspace.
I never imagined sunsets could actually be so depressing. And it didn't help I'm,
*At this very instant, power goes out at the internet cafe. A whole commotion of startled customers crowd the counter to pay and leave. Few minutes later, the lights come back.*
THANK GOD FOR LJ'S AUTOSAVE!!!
Now, moving on--it didn't help, or rather it wouldn't help if you're alone, not having eaten for 13 hours and waiting for that exact moment you could gulp a bottle of water while darkness creeps inside the dusty room your in. It has been six days since Ramadhan started by the way.
Three nights ago I promised myself to be more productive (i.e. getting myself serious on writing and book translating). I ended up getting hooked over VCD's of Fruits Basket and relating on its heart-pinching sentimentality. Never have I watched any other animé that actually had relevance to me, freaking me even more because it had to come from a product of East Asian pop culture. And I hate the fact that I actually don't mind.
I couldn't bring myself to read over the Qur'an. Much as I couldn't bring myself to read other intellectually and philosophically relevant pieces of literature. I even grudge at decently finishing Orosa-Nakpil: Malate, which in fact belongs to neither categories. I guess I have to surrender to the fact that I never am an enthusiastic wide reader. My childhood pastime of drooling over my mom's cookbooks is probably one to blame.
Seriously, I wish I could open myself up to the Qur'an. Not that I have never opened a single page of it at all. It's just that it's supposed to be an enlightening book authored by God Himself that was meant to ease the believers' hearts from grief. It's sad that I couldn't even bring myself to touch it in my most troubled moments. I'm seriously longing for a Muslim friend--FRIEND meaning someone whom I could actually get along and open up with. It's hard being with the company of those of my faith under a state of perpetual dread, having to straighten my kinky fingers everytime, consequently not being able to interact with the women my age without being feared as a potential sexual perpetrator by virtue of my physical gender alone. Leaving Islam is not the answer to my dilemma; neither is giving up my "evil, perverted lifestyle". Religion is NOT the culprit--it's the mentality of the society that runs it. Though I myself am silent over the issue of queerness's religious validity, I strongly believe that religion, whatever form it takes, should be an inspiration and not a hindrance to those who sincerely wish to seek it.
*Someone buzzes over Y!M. Datu gets lost for about an hour*
Just this moment I was comforting a friend over Y!M. Not a long time ago, I in fact would've been just like in her shoes. Everyone does have a turn in life. I gave my friend a virtual hug. I knew my friend needed a real one, but it's the only one our circumstance could give.
I wish to continue this update, but I think it best to leave the rest for next time. Just so that things don't pile up so much. :)
~~~
Snatched from s8o0n2s8y4..
This is just sharing of information. To those who have me as a friend in their list then you can see this and reply to this post. This will let me know to some degree if you are really my friend or not. Just use this template to fill out your answers in the comment. Any anonymous replies will be deleted if not identified. Outrageous replies will also be deleted.
( la questions.. )
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[20 Sep 2006|04:30pm] |
[11:48 AM Today]
They say music soothes the soul.
I say music and writing don't go well together. Especially if the music is Celine Dion's. Instead of being able to gather thoughts, you just stay back and listen and feel yourself slowly transforming into a singing superstar diva. Then you scream and screech and scour the hell out of people like you ARE a true singing superstar diva.
Well I could just turn the damn music off, could I? Unfortunately at this moment, silence is worse. Especially if one is inside a poorly ventilated, poorly illuminated room that only amplifies one's misery a hundred fold. And did I mention it's noon time?
---
My heart is torn between going to work and finishing this entry. I realized I've been lacking off at work. I've been coming to work late in the afternoon these days, wasting precious income generating hours I badly need for my upcoming stipendless semester. What's more, my price threshold for room renting is plummeting, making it harder and harder for me to look for decent shelter this sem break. Heaven's mercy, I don't want to go back to that cheap, roach-infested shanty!
Waking up everyday in the morning realizing I've missed three obligatory prayers only serves to seal my mood for the whole day. Instead of preparing myself for work, I would wallow in self-pity and guilt, blaming then again my lack of steadfast religious faith. I would remember my late 1G flashdrive and be painfully reminded of God's swift justice. Then, instead of swiftly waking up to pray for His forgiveness, I huggle myself more in bed and cuddle my pillow, pouring into it all that is my misery. I would curse myself for not doing anything productive the night before. I would blame myself for the pig den of a bed I'm lying on. I would mourn over the working hours I could never get back. I would worry what precious thing I would lose next from my unending sin. I would dread going back at EEE. I would be convinced that I'll fail EEE 41 next year.
I would hug my pillow and think of "him". I look at my phone, eagerly awaiting his txt message. None of course. I would worry I have gotten to his nerves this time. Then I would realize how worthless I am. How unorganized and unaccomplished I am compared to him. How he could easily go on with his life without me. How I need him a lot more than he needs me, if he needs me at all. How I do not deserve him, how I do not deserve anyone, anything. How I could not deserve honor or happiness--since I'm not doing my own part to earn it, since I'm lazy, since I fear challenge and pain, since I'm selfish and I think only of my own pleasure.
I'll see myself inside the EEE building, with all the people chatting and studying and minding their own lives. I would threaten to jump over the 3rd floor window. Breynalete would dare me, thinking I wouldn't be able to do it. I would prove them wrong. I would jump, hoping to get all their attention, hoping to summon a commotion. I would prove to them just how miserable I really am. I would think of what everyone would say after I'm confirmed dead. I would hear people cursing me for giving up. I would hear people sniggering over my weakness. Some would express their pity, but only for courtesy or lack of anything else to say. Then I would turn back time and see myself instead saved from my suicide attempt. People would now pay more attention to me. I would feel their care for now on. I would burden them all with it. Only in doing something extreme could I make everyone realize that I am NOT all right.
Back at reality, I would hug my pillow, cursing myself at the same time for being pathetic. I would think of a guy, effortly taking away "his" face from it. A faceless guy would embrace me and take away all my sorrow. Then I would be reminded of my fate, that I wouldn't be loved by anyone. I would smell the scent of disarray in my room. All things and garbage scattered about like my own issues. I would nag myself into cleaning up, but I'll soon realize I delayed myself enough for work. I would dread my supervisors' genuine but mechanical smiles. I would then decide to be absent for that day to have "time for myself". I would get up from bed and hesitantly make up for my missed prayers. That, or I ride the cycle of self-contained blame all over again.
Marphil enters the room and pesters me of his heterosexually-biased views on sexuality. I go out of the dorm and see the brightness of the afternoon, feeling the freshness of the air blowing to me. My life obliviously goes on.
currently listening to: A New Day Has Come by Celine Dion. appropriate noh?
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[18 Sep 2006|11:02pm] |
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Quiero.
Quiero mi corazon.
Quiero mi corazon y baila que la musica erotica--
Ariba! Ariba!
Que bona y hada!
La joklita que boca felicidad!
La dolores mi sancte espiritu,
Sancte de chaka la vida loca...
El crimen la boba ezperanza.
Achuu!
---
Ladies and gentlemen, don't waste your time pondering the wisdom behind those nasty lines. Rest assured the verse has nothing to do with demented Latinas, Ricky Martin, or Judy Ann Santos (does any of you still remember that damn soap, by the way?). Nor does it have anything to do with this entry.
So here I am, attempting yet again to update my long forsaken journal. I'm sick and tired of weaving over and over again thoughts that never get to be written by the time I have forced myself to do so. I feel like a goofy person pestered by a magical peeve who instantly goes out of sight by the time someone else comes and all wrath stormed upon the wretched person for damages made by someone who "does not exist". Then again, who would want to hear a transexual's ode to an unnamed guy anyway, when all this time names of Paul Mayuyu and Stephen Quedi, among others, are hurled to readers like cooties. But that's beside the point. The thing is, everything right now is happening to me all at the same time I couldn't pick one topic without everything else falling on me and crushing me in one big bunch. And I would regret each time that passes by without being able to tell all about it.
For instance, like how I was handpicked by an author about a month ago to be the translator for his very controversial novel, all because I casually let him read an entry of mine that deals with the topic on queerness. Just yesterday I went out with him, hoping to get some advice on my long-running depression. I ended up drooling over his sexy get-up* while being proselytized into going discrete (i.e. pa-mihn) like it's the answer to eradicating poverty and corruption and achieving world peace.
* military cap, shades, sando (the one with holes), metal tag necklace, green baggy pants, suede(?) shoes
Then there is the unnamed guy. I used to call him in a past entry as "Ross", but the name came off as silently as I fell for him. To box him inside an alias would be to understate how much special he's become to me. I wouldn't in words be able to give justice to the nights we spent chatting for hours on end, talking about, among other things, life. We came to believe in each others hopes, believing that whatever bullcrap comes our way, everything will turn out right in the end.
I almost lost hope on this thing called love. So much that I wanted to detest it. To abhor it. To rip its gentle wings and crush it underneath my fury. After all, they say love is like a butterfly that runs away the more you chase it. I have hated insects down to the very core.
I've always known love will never come to me. But I've never hated it either. Perhaps that was why my life has been miserable all along. I was frustrating myself with it. The guidance counselor I talked to a few weeks back mentioned something about frustrations sprouting out from the feeling of emptiness. Two years ago Madam Rosa cried over the same frustrations she would see from the cards I picked at her free tarot session at SM North. The prospect of the Tarot holding my destiny creeps me. To think a month later Samantha would dabble from these cards the "Great Change" coming to me. Barely two years after, the "Great Change" still haunts me like conscience*.
* Datu...hindi sapat ang beauty soap. Kailangan, superior skin germ protection!
So I thought I could do away with love altogether. To condemn it down with the dominating status quo that forbids me from it. Whether I side with the straight or the queer doesn't matter. Straights won't accept me because I'm sinful; queers won't accept me because I'm ugly, I'm weird, I crossdress, I have bad fashion sense, and I wouldn't go for anal sex. Even in the most primordial of my humanity as sexuality my nomad-pastoralism bugs me. And what is a nomad-pastoralist to do but move, constantly move that one cannot tell whether one is running away from or heading towards somewhere.
(By the way, I finally found Nomad-Pastoralist Datu a.k.a. Wind Blossom Dew's name in Chinese -- Feng Hua Lu (    ). Chinese friends, did I get that right? I would sorely appreciate it if any of you could teach me how to write the characters. Oh I forgot, you probably don't have any idea what I'm talking about. In a nutshell, The Legend of Wind Blossom Dew is another of my personal fictions in the tradition of Christopher and Amores Celestia. It tells the story of a notorious North Asian barbarian and her magical kung fu laden misadventures and drama with Ancient Imperial China. The fiction is based upon my self description as a horse-riding Ural-Altaic nomad-pastoralist (i.e. someone who defies all means to be assimilated into an established social order; someone unbearably notorious; a loner))
...
FINE! CRAP! I KNEW THIS INTERNET CAFE CAN NEVER BE CONDUCIVE TO WRITING PSEUDO-SERIOUS ENTRIES! Thank goodness I'm able to write most of them this morning. Kicking my ass back from hiatus would apparently take some time.
Before I leave you once again with this yet another hanging entry, I'm gonna let you bring some fun. At Newton Study Center, I'm in charge with making abstract reasoning and spatial ability questions for materials development. Thus I'm giving you all three "odd-one-out" questions for your geeky pleasure. >:)
1) |coffee| |espresso| |bread| |happiness| |fulfillment|
2) | ACD | | WYZ | | OQR | | JMN | | FHI |
3) |Armenia| |Romania| |Macedonia| |Germany| |France| edit (17-Sept-06 4:11PM): Not a good "odd-man-out" question. I was intending the answer to be Armenia, since it's the only non-European country in the list. Turns out there are other possible reasons as well as answers for the question.
Now the rules--submit your answers. I'll personally tell something about you per correct answer. This is gonna be SOOOOO much fun! XD
* Back at her mind, Datu laments over her futile efforts to avert the fact that her entry tonight, once again, sucks. x_x
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