Painful to be Private Preoccupations [part I]

I.

I’ve been rushing lately, despite finishing my thesis defense a week ago. I’m overworked, dead half the time and still getting heavier because I’ve been compensating my lack of sleep with eating. I’ve been rushing because three weeks ago, after being in Asturias where I ate a hearty bag of bikang-bikang, Ma’am Gamo told me that we’re organizing the annual Exposure Trip to Bilibid Prisons again. Of course I was surprised because just last semester, our program was halted and released a chain of events too horrible to even menti—

This is tedious work, and even though I have briefed my juniors and sophomores of the activity and their part in it, the stress is becoming unbearable. I can’t take this anymore, not now, not in my last semester as a college student in this university. The only consolation I want to have is that now, I hope, there would be another girl to date, who is worth my time, who would give way for anyone or anything to give me a break on everything that’s happening now.

I take the waivers and letters upstairs, to rm201 of 1jrn1. Ok, ok. Now to the next room, that of 1jrn2, where there seems to be a commotion because they have no professor for the next subject. I talk to someone standing in front of the door.

“Pwede sa president?” I say.

“Uhm, nasa CR po eh. Pakihintay na lang. Ayon, anjan na. Joyce! May naghahanap sa ‘yo!”

The girl walks in, glides in, and looks at us. She squints. Poor eyesight? And that long skirt, why so long? Or is it just me? Lesbians in my high school wear skirts that are too long. I really think it’s too long. She approaches me, we introduce ourselves, I state my purpose, the trip, everything, and I hand her the papers that should be photocopied for the whole class. She says OK. Come to think of it, she’s quite cute, her looking at me with her head nodding and her shoulder hunched. Maybe she’s shy, facing someone with wide shoulders, unshaven, with distended, exhausted eyes below a scarred forehead.

Do I look intimidating? Or just pathetic?

Then I smell something. Cigarettes. From her blouse or hair maybe. This Joyce smokes. I don’t see that there’s a possibility that she has a source of income to subsidize that vice. Oh well, teenagers. I smile and she smiles back before I say goodbye. Then to the stairs.

That girl, that smile. But I’m used to this. The fact that you’re taking 10 or 11 sections to an educational trip leads to things like these because, out of that 400 or so youngsters, there might be someone pretty (and lucky!) enough to consistently get my attention. And so far, as far as my anticipation is concerned, she’s it. Perhaps I’m graduating with a girlfriend anyway. Oh no. No. I must not get my hopes up too soon. Jinx!

But then again, maybe she has a boyfriend already. That secure look, maybe she has someone more masculine that me. Some guy who could lift heavy things for a living, if he wanted to. A boy-next-door type who doesn’t have creative facial hair, who is cleanly shaven. But I remember that she was with her friends and classmates earlier, a reason for that secured look. Maybe she’s single after all.
Days later, I meet up with all the presidents of the 11 sections. I usually show her to my classmates or friends when I see her, in the corridor or after meetings. I see a pattern implicit in their comments about her looks—that she looks pretty “mundane”. Commonplace, natural, ordinary, at least in comparison to my past prospects or dates. A classmate tells me that I’m so phenomenological just like my thesis, very fond of mundane things, even persons. I neither find the joke funny nor offending. It’s too pedantic. Good thing is, I’m gonna be dating with someone again. Consistently that is, if she’s worth my time.

I’m not arrogant or conceited, but after reading a considerable amount of literature on eidetic sociology, on dating, and hearing tons of feedbacks from other people, I always establish the fact that I’m the (or also) the prize. And women (or girls) must also make their way towards me. It’s pretty simple, really. Dating, being also (but not only) a political phenomenon, requires that there must be a healthy alternation of power. In this sense, I’m only lessening the opposite sex’s leverage and leveling it with mine. And while many jerks and narrow-minded skeptics scoff at the idea, many of my friends, particularly girls, like it and are entertained by it. Oh well, might as well review some stuff on the matter.

Painful to be Private Preoccupations

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The author wishes first and foremost to acknowledge Bathala, if it not because of Him/Her none of this would be possible, ever, and we need no proof of that. He wishes to acknowledge the many people who have extended the meaning of the word generosity for allowing their real names and actions to be included in this work. Further, he also acknowledges the people who, even if they were not mentioned in here, contributed one way or another to the making of this memoir, such as Celest and Angelique, who again gave him the drive to abandon his stalling. The author would also like to acknowledge his penchant to exaggerate, and to fib, for better or for worse, depending on the situation. He would also like to acknowledge that yes, there are perhaps too many memoirs being written by different people so this is not something new, and that yes, writing about REAL people and REAL events as opposed to kind-of-made-up ones is shameless and wrong and vile and evil and corrupt. And maybe the idea of relating stories of stinginess for postponed dates and flirting while inside the bus and looking like a Pip-Guy teen flick is unappealing to everyone but to the author’s college classmates and a few Journalism students in Sampaloc, but there are schemes that are diabolically worse, like cheating in elections or JPEPA and we could all do worse, like, say American government or that lying bitch in Malacañang. Anyway, if you’re bothered by the fact that any of this is real, then he suggests you pretend that it’s FICTION. He also tips his hat to the kind and friendly inmates of the Medium Security Compound of Bilibid Prisons, especially the students of the Modular Class in Sociology. The author also wants to acknowledge his friends in the Thomasian Writers Guild and The Flame, for the endless booze and for giving him a degree of satisfaction for his intellectual vanity. He also wishes to acknowledge your problems with the title, he too doubts if it’s the best.

Now, he would also like to acknowledge the themes of the memoir.

A.) The Haunting Preoccupation of Being Single

More often than not, persons who would get to know the author would eventually ask him why on earth is he still single, and would be surprised—or even appalled—by a number of reasons.

B.) Social Proof as an Edge in Dating

The social value of someone is indispensable as a background to amplify his/her characteristics desirable for dating.

C.) Disclosure as a Result of The Author’s Not-So-Important View on Privacy

We all like disclosure, especially if it pertains to that person’s frustrations and weaknesses. Privacy is cheap, overrated, and many petty fights, quarrels and terrorist attacks would be averted if everyone follows this view.

Also, the following threads:

1.) The Joyce Dialectic I: She being both an inspiration and an impediment to the writing of the memoir.

2.) The Joyce Dialectic II: The Dissonance between her language and her socio-economic status.

3.) The Being Confined to Digital Communication as Being Only Feasible Medium to Keep In Touch Idea.

4.) The Attachment VS. “I’m Fine Without You” Idea.

5.) The Self-Imposed Romance Deadline Idea.

6.) The Nostalgia Disguised as Intellectual Vanity as a Reason for Writing of Memoir Idea.

The author also wishes to acknowledge that for all his ranting elsewhere, this is NOT totally a work of non-fiction. Many parts have been fictionalized, especially the dialogues that reflect the author’s limitations and his imagination’s feedings. Although in the course of the work, he is trying to channel the thoughts that he had during his last days in UST, he has taken certain liberties especially with what he was thinking on certain instances in the narrative. For example, usually, when he is thinking of something in a certain situation in the memoir, its not that he’s actually thinking of that thought that time. More often than not, those thoughts occurred to him after the situations or events happen, and he only inserts such and such for the sake of appearing and sounding articulate because frankly enough, he does not have the skill to write such a work in order for it not to be sooooo boring. The author also acknowledges—and congratulates!—you for noticing the work’s flaws and imperfections. Finally, the author would like to acknowledge the kindness and consideration for letting this work continue that was given by Joyce, and of course for obvious reasons. Here is a picture of a puto bumbong:

the memoir

after much deliberation (was there really one? I hope so...), Joyce decided that she would not have the work published.

But anyway, I'll have it here. Feel free to give comments, enjoy or get pissed reading my posts-as-parts-of-memoir.





THIS IS UNCALLED FOR

Punching

As many of you know, I am a martial arts aficionado under the tutelage of Grandmaster Ernesto Presas. It's been a while... er... a long time since I trained in our dojo there in Quiapo. For the past 6 months or so, I have been improvising my training by myself, trying to develop anaerobic routines.

I was doing a shadowboxing routine last week when I suddenly checked my form, my punching form. I begin to wonder if what I'm doing is correct, since no one at that time would correct it for me since I'm training on my own. Although I train for efficiency, not aesthetics, mind you.

Then I remembered the basic punching fundamentals--to tense the fist JUST BEFORE THE IMPACT for maximum speed and power. So i practiced my punches according to that principle. Hours later I watched a video in youtube and an FMA grandmaster there said that when punching, you pull the energy back towards you while when you slap, you eject it. So the latter is better, according to my interpretation to what he said.

When I got back home I tried it, and when I was punching the air and clenching my fist just before the imagined impact, I thought that I was indeed pulling the energy back to my arm instead of ejecting it to the target. When I did the straight punch, my fist was relaxed until about two inches before the impact when I clenched it. I'm getting the feeling that I was indeed pulling or holding the energy back because I suddenly clenched my fist.

I AM CONFUSED. WHAT SHOULD I DO?

Pushy?

Ito ang unang entry ko na maramdamin... er... basta nababanas ako.

May nakausap ako kanina, at inaabangan ko na ang pagpupuyos nya sa internet habang nag-uusap kami...

...pero hindi yun nangyari. Bakit ko ba inaabangan? Kasi may nakapagsabi sa akin na dapat ko nga daw abangan. At sinabi rin niya sa akin na dahil daw masyado akong PUSHY. Well, well, matingnan nga muna ang depinisyon ng katagang ito bago ako magpatuloy. Ayan:

PUSHY: Disagreeably aggressive or forward.

Now, now...

Tatawagin ko muna sila dito bilang K1 at K2.

Nag-uusap kasi kami ni K1 sa kanyang blog, tungkol sa isang sinulat ko. Sabi niya kanina, hindi yung mismong sinulat kong prosa ang kinagagalit niya, kundi yung sinabi ko sa blog nya bilang komento. Ngayon, ang nangyari sa aking palagay ay ganire: nauna/nagkasabay ang inis sa pagtingin, tuloy nagalit si K1. Karaniwan na sa mga kababaihan ang ganito (hep, hindi ako seksista, mga ulol.), kaya nga mas kakaunting babae ang nagiging matagumpay sa hard fields tulad ng medisina, arkitektura, inhinyera at kung anu-ano pang nangangailangan ng matinding konsentrasyon at neutral na pagtingin. Bakit? Kasi nga ay nauunang padaanin ang obserbasyon sa damdamin bago sa isip. Ito sa tingin ko ang problema, at hindi ko rin sinasabing mas matalino ang mga lalaki.

Knowing this, ok na sa akin eh.

Pero kung tatapatin kita, mambabasa, medyo kinabahan ako ng kaunti sa sinabi ni K2 na nakausap ko bago si K1 kanina. Sa pagkakasabi kasi niya, tila yata napakagrabe ng nagawa ko samantalang ito lang naman ang ginawa ko: sagutin at panindigan ang mga sinagot ko sa mga tanong sa blog ni K1. At iyon na nga, masyado daw akong PUSHY.

Natatawa akong naaasar, dahil base sa depinisyong nasa itaas (na halos ganoon din naman kung hahanapin mo sa iba't ibang diskyunaryo), hindi ako naging ganoon sa pagkakataong ito. Ang ginawa ko lang naman ay nanindigan sa mga sinabi ko, at ipaliwanag ang mga ito base na rin sa mga naisip ko nang gabing iyon. Sa pagkakataong ito, hindi ko na suliranin kung hindi maunawaan (sa kung anumang nararapat o di karapat-dapat na dahilan) ng ibang tao ang aking sinasabi. Nariyan ang internet upang makatulong at siyempre, ang isip ng mambabasa. At ang nakakabanas pa ay sinabi niya na hindi ko raw kasi pinakikinggan muna si K1. ha? Ano raw?

O ako ba ang hindi napakinggan, sa kabila ng pagpapaliwanag ko? Sino ang naagrabyado dito? Ang masakit pa dito ay posibleng matapos mga araw na ito na para bang walang nangyari, na ako ang ginawang punching bag, pagkatapos bulabugin at bigwasan ay iiwanan na lang na lalambi-lambitin.

Pero hindi ko naman mina-masama ng ganoon. Naaayos na naman ang sigalot, lamang ay may mga naiwang nakabitin. Yun bang nakakasakit. Hindi rin ako galit, nainis lang.

(rolls eyes)

Ikaw naman, mambabasa.

Raphael Likes To...

Iisa ang lumabas sa name na ZALDY so RAPHAEL na lang. Bayolente ako...

Go to Google and type in quotation marks your name and then "likes to" (ex. "Bugoy likes to"). Type in the first ten things that come up and repost in your own blog.

1.) Raphael likes to spend his nights on the prowl

2.) Raphael, likes to burrow in the soft river bottom so provide a corner of fine gravel or sand

3.) Raphael likes to let his imagination take off

4.) Raphael likes to fight first and ask questions later

5.) Raphael likes to finish his work

6.) Raphael likes to help us get something started

7.) Raphael likes to stand RIGHT BEHIND me as I try to make dinner

8.) Raphael likes to read about faeries

9.) Raphael likes to use physical, expel, and force attacks

10.) Raphael likes to keep his opponent guessing, and always be one step ahead


ayan..

IMPLORING

Ako na...


-alam kung saan ako tutungo noong kolehiyo

-presidente ng klase ng apat na semestre

-presidente ng klase nang umingay ang Nestle Issue sa AB

-hindi kumakain/umiinom ng Nestle products ng dalawang taon na

-asset sa immersion

-asset sa research(?)

-kinokonsulta ng mga kaklase ko sa mga teorya

-apat na beses naka-Dean's Lister award

-ayaw sa corporate world for GOOD reasons



ay wala pa ring trabaho makalipas ang pitong buwan. Bakit kaya?

steamy dream

I had a dream the other night, and it involved someone of my own past, someone who I dated more than a year ago. Let's call her Leenx.



The dream started in an alley where I and Leenx were walking. She was ranting something about her school report. Four of her friends appear from nowhere and discuss it together. After that, someone suggested that we get dressed up for a party. I go to the bathroom and don a polo and black shoes and Leenx enters our car (which appeared from nowhere) and got dressed too. Her attire, for some reason, appalled me and so I started chastising her for wearing it. She scoffs, walks towards me and puts her arms around my neck, as if we're dancing intimately. She looks up to me, closes her eyes and kisses me. Of course I was surprised and I kissed her back too late. She pulls away her head and loks down, a bit disappointed not with me but with herself. I told her that I was surprised, and she pulls me to another place, at the corner where a bench appeared. nod

We sit and she pulls me closer and again we kissed. This time it's different--it's torrid, like there's no tomorrow, like we're two heroes kissing each other to save the world, we're already fiddling with each other's tongues inside each other's mouths--

I wake up, it's already 7 am.

I don't know why this happened, does it mean something? Am I preoccupied with her? I don't think so. Yes, we kissed the last time we saw each other, after the date, but...

I don't want to think about it.

Unkowledgement II

The success of my memoir, I feel, depends largely on how appealing the author is. To address this, he offers you the following, without any regard on privacy:


1.) that he is a product of an unwanted pregnancy

2.) that ater 6 months, he is still unemployed, and is losing hope about it

3.) that his biological clock has been reversed for months now

4.) that he has been losing weight, hopefully for good

5.) that he also hates milk

6.) that is a bit confused about his feelings, even if he is having fun with it at the moment

7.) that he is currently entertaining the idea of building jealousy plotlines

8.) that he is planning on rekindling something soon, for better or worse

9.) that he is meeting two deadlines, the first one being self-imposed; the second one imposed by a publication he disdains and

10.) that he is again experiencing a taste for travel.

the "Joyce Dialectic"

Lately I have been reading blogs of people linked to my own. Save from the fact that a considerable number of them hold considerable amounts of statements or stories that implicates ideas I myself disdain, their contents are, in overall, OK. Coincidentally, it's a good thing that most of them write in their blogs as if they're writing in their diaries. These narratives give a view of what they think about what is going on in their environment, and it helps for me to read, if only to know them better, at least triangulation-wise.


Now...

Many of you know that I am currently in progress-- and stalling-- of writing a memoir. This work, if you might want to acknowledge, is not solely about the author (which is what a memoir is essentially about), but also of a person who has preoccupied me during my last days in the university. I would also like to acknowledge that yes, there are perhaps too many memoirs being written by different people so this is not something new, and yes, writing about REAL people and REAL events as opposed to kind-of-made-up ones is shameless and wrong and vile and evil and corrupt. But then again, we could all do worse, like, say American government or that lying bitch in Malacañang.

For all my bluster elsewhere, the memoir is not entirely a work of non-fiction. There are considerable amount of its contents that are being, and has been, fictionalized. Although in the course of the work, I am trying to channel the thoughts that I had during my last days in UST, I have taken certain liberties especially with what I was thinking on certain instances in the narrative. For example, usually, when I am thinking of something while in a certain situation in the memoir, its not that I'm actually thinking of that thought that time. More often than not, those thoughts occurred to me after the situations or events happen, and I only insert such and such for the sake of appearing and sounding articulate because frankly enough, I do not have the skill to write such a work so I have to do such in order for it not to be sooooo boring. Moving on...

The Joyce Dialectic: she being both an inspiration and impediment to the writing of this... this memoir.

The inspiration concept is easy enough, but the impediment... I really can't see a reason reasonable enough for her not to have her name on it. I thought that she liked the idea before, when I let her read the draft. The reason why I let her read it is for APPROVAL, but now that she knows that it might be published this February, she wants none of her real name on it. I thought that it would be OK for her, she extending the meaning of the word generosity and courage by letting her name on it. I am thinking that if that's the case, I would abandon it already. What's the point of writing a memoir if its not based on actual accounts? Oh well... What could be the synthesis of this dialectic?

I cannot write anymore, that's all for now...

Arbeiten und Lieben

September 18, 2007 2:20 am


I was about to sleep, and I was thinking of what I could do that time to induce sleeping, and it occurred to me that I WAS NOT DOING ANYTHING GOOD LATELY. Then, in a flash of pure truth-seeking, I felt that I was worthless. I began to sob, then cry. I went outside of our house and sat beside my three dogs, still crying.

I was certain that night, or morning, that no one needs me. That I was worthless.

Yes, I always sought for simplicity, but what I found was emptiness, a void that sucks everything. Its that sinking feeling you have in the pit of your stomach, only in intercontinental scale.

Fuck it, am I too old for this?

It all seemed senseless. It seems that all the sacrifice that I made when I was still studying for the knowledge that I have now, it all seems to be for nothing. All the hardships, the stinginess, the skipped meals in exchange for photocopied materials, the almost-spoiled pork adobos and paksiw na galunggong for weeks, it seems that nothing's paying off these days.

What's wrong with this world? What I'm facing now is eerily close to indifference. I really think that if next semester, I'm still unemployed, I'll go crazy. E kung mamundok na lang nga kaya ako tulad ng binibiro ng mga kabarkada ko sa akin?

Sigmund Freud once said that the key to happiness is arbeiten und lieben, work and love-- and I have neither at the present.

What is worse than being able to see what you can in this world is being unable to do something about it, and fuck, its better doing something you might suspect that is wrong, but believing in it anyway. At least there's a chance that history would absolve you if ever you mistook something.

And it doubles, triples when you know no one's out there for you. Napakahirap ng walang pag-aalayan ng kung anumang gusto mong gawin. At the moment, I feel like I'm making a fool of myself, and there's nobody who would think I've done a temporary job. To wit: ako na lang ang hindi pa nakakaranas na magkaroon ng romantic relationship sa barkada namin. But then again, trabaho muna hahanapin ko.

Where shall my blood be spilled?

LSE

It has been 5 months, and still I don't have any work yet. I am beginning to lose my self worth.

For all my bluster elsewhere when I was still in college, I begin to realize its really hard looking for a career nowadays. A lot happened last summer, all of which seemed to be conspiring to prevent me from being employed. I don't know what is wrong, and nobody gives me a worthy advice yet as much as my convictions are concerned.

Oh well, I really hope I'd be getting a job this month.

Demistifying Destiny

Those of you who would read this might very well read the whole thing before dismissing it. I DO NOT ask you to believe it. You are, however, hoped to consider it. Here goes...



Many people, those who are not critical in general and mushy in particular, believe in that annoying word that starts in D and ends in Y. I don't like that concept, or its synonyms, and considers it unproductive. The only version of it I believe is this: that all people would die. I only write about it because I need a diversion right now. It is, for me, counterproductive for a number of reasons, which, at this time, are all that I could think of:

~many people use it as an excuse for laziness and to elude from responsibility

~many use it as an excuse for not working their asses off to be better persons

~it hinders progressive and critical thinking

~it leads to unecessary acceptance of one's current situation

~blurs one's perspective on many issues

~the idea of it renders the human faculties useless (why think, if you would become something that's predestined?)


Now, now, I do not seek to erase the said concept for I, with all my bluster everywhere, could not do that at this time given my still considerably limited knowledge. However, this is I would do: DEMISTIFY it.

Everything in the social world (that was meant as a categorization only), even the notion of god, is socially constructed. That is, all of the things we experience cannot be detached to such factors as history, institutions, consciousness, geographical location, etc. Many people do not think this way. These people do not see and think that what is hapenning in their daily lives are determined NOT only by their actions and decisions as individuals but ALSO by the social environment that they are situated in. By the way (as evidently mentioned), it is not to say that people must rely solely in their deeds, because one can only do so much (consider the development phenomenology in this regard, how it has been revised several times). Moving on, it is very advantageous to not only consider, but to really think that all in this world are interrelated as Joey Ayala said: ang lahat ng bagay ay magkaugnay, magkaugnay ang lahat. Let us consider a fictional conversation about a young lad named Niko:


- Niko's a banker now, he's destined to be.

- No. If that is true, how?

- Well, his parents are bankers, so it makes sense.

- Uhm, no. That is merely the socialization of the individual in his own family, which , you might want to observe, is considerably close-knit. He wasn't born as a banker, he was raised and made to be one.

- It's good he's fated to work in Makati huh?

- Again, no. This is a situation of an off-shoot of his mindset in his career when he was still a student, which a lot of young people nowadays share-- the prestige of working in Makati.

- Maybe its destiny that he has a friend like you who does not believe in destiny eh?

- No, no. What the fuck are you saying?!


You see, by the example above, instead of relating a phenomenon in one's life as caused by such an abstract, alien and farfetched concept as destiny or fate, it would be wonderful to instead consider social events, forces and institutions as the determinants of an event or situation. This not, however, to say that individuals are judgemental dopes, solely coerced and manipulated by their environment, as this would also deny one of the fundamental ideas of the humanities: freedom. Instead of blaming one's misfortune to destiny or worse, to the almighty, it would be more responsible if one would think of the events that pieced up his/her shortcoming.

If one is in constant contact with an environment that posseses all the determinants and influences, explicit and implicit, to be someone someday, say, a doctor, then chances are he/she would indeed be one. Moreover, it is very arrogant and ignorant to assume that one's decisions are solely his/her own and not influenced by previous events in one's life. To top the cream with a cherry, its really reasonable and sensible to keep in mind that all phenomenon in one's life is in the middle of one's own conception and the social structures that influences his/her lifeworld or lebenswelt.

So, stop assuming that things naturally fall into place because they are destined to be.


My two cents.

What Is Your Work?

Saturday night.

*****

Its cool, its cool here inside Tania's cottage. Everybody's drinking beer and that tequila thing. Of all the people there, only three of us do not smoke. And I'm the only one who did not study nursing. Good thing.

Everybody's trying to catch up with everybody, and when it came down to me, there was the inevitable conversation...

"Ano nang trabaho mo?" someone asks.
"Wala pa nga eh." I say.
"Kala ko ba magtuturo ka na sa Sacred Heart?" another asks.
"Hindi nga ako natanggap kasi preferred ngayon ang may LET or MA." I verified.
"Dyan kaya sa McDo, naghahanap sila ng manager." someone suggested.
"Alam nyo naman na tinanggihan ko na nga yun. Ayoko ng ganung trabaho." I scoffed.

So on and so forth.

These friends of mine. They should've known better. My work? My type of work? Why ask me, when I am here, drinking so little, chatting, listening, wiping my teary eyes because everybody within two-feet radius of mine smokes? Why ask me if they get the same answers, my theme of not working for companies but FOR people?

Are all of my friends morons?

It even got to the point that I was gesturing extensively and raising my voice. Then some smart aleck in our group told me I was too picky on choosing my job. He did not italicized it but I will do here: picky. And I told them that I REALLY AM. Is this topic too much for the likes of them to figure the fucking thing out? Is it really that hard to understand my alternative views on such matters? I don't think so, given their degree of intelligence and IQ scores (as a lot of you know, above average grades are required for their course). They are just static, they think about things with their dreams, goals and frustrations, not with their already stagnant minds.

Same shit, they always try to equate happiness, fulfillment and success in terms of the sheer amount of material goods that they hopefully are to consume with their money, money earned from jobs and NOT careers. And worse, they try to hit me with their version of liberal or free thinking: "E ganun ang tingin namin e, anong pakialam mo? Bahala kami sa gagawin sa buhay namin."

Fuck. They don't realize that by thinking this way they are not free. That it doesn't mean that freedom is concerned by spending money on ALL things imaginable. The geist is this: by behaving as such, one is ENSLAVED by material goods, not the other way around.

And he smokes. That fool smokes. He's put on the freak suit now. Good fucking god no he does now. Another one about this next time.

*****

Adieu

awit, awit

Reveal the Remedy
Urbandub


this separation is killing me
you say I should’ve thought that
before I did what I have done
so easier to put the blame on you
I should’ve looked inside of me
But it’s all in vain as I try to explain
She pulls away…


We could’ve been more
Can we ever have these feelings again?
We should’ve been more
Maybe in time we’ll realize that maybe
Fate reveals the remedies
Making it feel like it will be like the first time.


Still the vision on my mind
Cuz now I realize it’s
so damn hard to give you up
no way out of this hole
can we ever have us back again?
let’s not start and put the blame part away
can you honestly say
you can see me with another one?
Another one, another chance with you
I want more, I want more, I want more.


Regretting it now
Can fate reveal to me?
The questions to why?
Reveal the remedy.


Could’ve been more
Should’ve been more
Maybe in time we’ll realize that maybe
That fate reveals the remedies
making it feel like it will be like the first time
just like the first time.

Wazak

Have been drinking last night until early morning. A friend of mine broke up with someone which in turn released a short chain of events too horrible to even menti--

So he broke up with her. We went at a bar and drank till 4 am. I consumed 4 bottles of Red Horse stallions and a considerable amount of that freakin' Generoso Brandy. I was fine, except for my sandals that lost a strap due to wear and tear. After I got home, I lay in our 16-year old sofa. I dozed off dreaming of persecution.

*****

Then, light. I'm awake, and it's past 8 in the morning. I sit up, asking my sister what's for breakfast and if she would like me to go buy food in the mar--

I am kicked from the inside. Or stabbed. A savate-style front kick with steel-tipped French shoes. Then I feel my tummy go wild, churning caviar inside. My mouth goes sour, and remembering that I'm post-drunk, I went to the bathroom, to the toilet, oh this garbage bin must be cleaned goddammit, and DWAAARRRRFFFFF! Throwing up, as I remember, is meant to make someone feel better. But now, its not working. I went to the kitchen, got iced water from the fridge, drink, and vomit again. Then I feel my limbs going cold. Suddenly I feel that I'm hunched over, weakened, beaten to a fucking pulp. I looked at the sofa. The sofa is my home, the sofa is the answer. If only I can...reach...the...sofa...

No one seems to take notice. Have I been shot? No. Perhaps. Yes. There wasn't any sound. But what if it was one of those techie silenced sniper rifles? No, i haven't been shot. But I am dying. Surely, at last.

I am dying, finally. I knew it, deserved it from the beginning. It's AIDS and I had it coming, with that "One Time When the Condom Broke with the Woman Who Had Been Around." But then I remember: I'm still a virgin.

I'm dying, at last. I get up and go to the bathroom and throw up again. Again. Then again. Everytime I take something, drink or eat, I throw it up. I have been puking at least more than ten times already when I feel a hot sensation in the back of my throat. Then I looked at the toilet bowl and there are drops of a black, mucous-like substance. Now I get it, I'm spitting up bile, pieces of my liver. I think of Cos Zicarelli gagging on spoiled pasta in one of their performances at Box. Maybe this is something more. A performance art! Yes, yes this! It would be beautiful and poetic and it hurts like a motherfucker. I'm not made for this. A human throat is not made to be passed through by such substances.

Fuck! This pain! Am I giving birth?! I am tough, I am ARMY TOUGH. But this is freakin' tearing me apart, acid all over my stomach, acid being kicked into my side by a thousand little French Armada fuckers, all inside my tummy. Can AIDS kill like this? Yes, yes. No, no, no.

*****

I have a resolution: NEVER TO DRINK AGAIN, I WILL HOLD IT FOR AS LONG AS I FUCKING CAN.

Transcribe...

Transcribe....

Isang araw, sa klase ng FIL2, may dalawang bored na estudyante ang nagpalipas ng oras.Nagpalitan ng mga saloobin, repleksyon, at iba't ibang reyalisasyon sa pamamagitan ng mga walang kapararakang tula. Isinulat ito sa piraso ng papel.

Oras: Sa pagitan ng 8-9:00pm
Lugar: Rm 105. St Raymund's Bldg. Faculty of Arts and Letters.

Mga tauhan: Pattot, Zaldy, boses ng Propesor sa background

Sa papel...

Zaldy: Malinaw ang bolpen ko. Ayos ba? Mini-stop yan, fooohl...

Pattot: (gumuhit ng zigzag na linya) Malinaw din tong akin. Arbor lang yan, dawg...

Zaldy: Oo nga. Mas maayos yung iyo tuminta. Akin na lang yan...geit..

Pattot: Ayoko. #!*%$@

Zaldy: Eh $%#@^!& ka pala boy...burger...

Pattot: (nagdrowing ng hugis 'pitutuy')

Zaldy:
May bakla sa may talipapa.
Nanghiram ng sandok sa tindera.
Bungangera, bungangera, bungangera.
Alin sa tingin mo?Alin ang mas malubha?

Pattot:
Ang bakla ay nakatulog sa talipapa.
Nagising sa kandungan ng isa pang bakla.
Nalito. Nagtinginan. Ngumanga.
"Pabili ng itlog na pula"

Zaldy:
Ang itlog na binili ay namumula.
May nilagay, sibuyas na nangangamatis,tadtad.
Kinamatis na iniulam sa malaswang tinapa.

Pattot:
Ang tahong ay nagpapahinga,nakalapat sa buhangin at nakatingala.
May alon na naligaw, humihiyaw.
Tinangay ang tahong na nauuhaw.
Sa dagat ay nauntog, nakabanggaang pusit.
Gumiling si pusit.
Na-arouse na!"Feel the heat"

Zaldy:
Dumaan na si Calamares,galing daw sa Marivelez.
Niyakap ng galamay ang tahong na kumerengkeng habang bumubulong.
Dinuduyan ng sunday ng along naging
saksi sa pagpasok sa kabibe ng saging
na dila ng malagkit na pusit.
Di mapigilan ang pagpuslit
ng kalandiang may kaalatan
sa gitna ng karagatan.
Kiskis, pawis, kiskis, pawis.

Pattot:
Kulang-kulang dalawang minuto
na ang nakaraan nang siya'y kumagat.
Ngayon ako'y nagaabang ng masasakyan.
Mausok. Maganda siguro kung haluan
ko pa ng usok ang usok nila.
Dalawang pilak, kapalit ay ginto.
Lugi ka pa?Babasain ang labi, kukurap.
Yan ang nagsilbing libangan.
Walapa ring humihinto.
Abang!Kasabay ng pagkalam ang aking
pagdighay. Nakakalito. Gutom
ako pero nakukuhang dumighay.
Ngunit, nagisip ako... Nagtanong.
"Busog lang ba ang may karapatang dumighay?"


At iyon na nga ang nangyari. Ilang minuto lamang ang lumipas ay nagdismiss na ang Propesor. Naging matagumpay ang dalawang damuho sa kanilang palipas oras. Nagkatotoo ang huling tula ni Pattot.

Mabuti Pa Sila

Mabuti Pa Sila
gary granada

Mabuti pa ang mga surot, laging mayrong masisiksikan
Mabuti pa ang bubble gum, laging mayrong didikitan
Mabuti pa ang salamin, laging mayrong tumitingin
Di tulad kong laging walang pumapansin

Mabuti pa ang mga lapis, sinusulatan ang papel
At mas mapalad ang kamatis, maya't maya napipisil
Napakaswerte ng bayong, hawak ng aleng maganda
Di tulad kong lagi na lang nag-iisa

Ano ba'ng wala ako na mayron sila
Di man lang makaisa habang iba'y dala-dalwa
Pigilan n'yo akong magpatiwakal
Mabuti pa ang galunggong nasasabihan ng 'mahal'

Kahit ang suka ay may toyo at ang asin may paminta
Mabuti pa ang lumang dyaryo at yakap-yakap ang isda
Mabuti pa sila, mabuti pa sila
Di tulad kong lagi na lang nag-iisa

Mabuti pa ang simpleng tissue at laging nahahalikan
Mabuti pa ang mga bisyo, umaasang babalikan
Mabuti pa sila, mabuti pa sila
Di tulad kong lagi na lang nag-iisa

Pigilan n'yo akong magpatiwakal
Bakit si Gabby Concepcion lagi na lang kinakasal

Mabuti pa ang mga isnatser, palaging may naghahabol
Ang aking luma na computer, mayron pa ring compatible
Mabuti pa sila, mabuti pa sila
Di tulad kong lagi na lang nag-iisa





astig talaga tong kantang to...

Consumer-cialization of Education

As I have promised on an entry I posted here, here it is. I just thought of the title a while ago, and felt that it would best describe the following statements that I would make here. So, here it goes...

It really disappoints me that many people today choose jobs (instead of careers) not because of the fondness of the work being done but to because of its lucrativity. The vast majority of people today are living or want to live in the framework of a very harmful idea: CONSUMERISM. The term means "equating personal happiness with purchasing material possessions and consumption." It is really contradictory not only to the Christian principle of being simple, but to many humanitarian thoughts as well. People really think, although they rarely admit it, that the purpose of life is to consume as much material goods as possible. This is sick. Why? Because consumerist living standards, usually western ones, are very impractical in the truest sense because they only deplete the already scarce resources of the planet. Ecological footprint analysis consistently shows us the impending doom: that if all the people around the world are to follow consumerist standards of living, we will need three Earths to subsidize that. That's right, three planet earths just to satisfy unecessary wants that industrialized countries dictate to us as "needs". And many people now prefer to work in jobs in accordance to consumerist trends and culture.

That is why many young people want or are pressured to taking courses like nursing or caregiving. The essence is not there already: someone wants to vbe a nurse not because he/she wants to take care of the sick, but to EARN MORE MONEY in order to consume material goods, thinking that this would save them from the poverty that they experience. Or worse, just to earn more and more money to consume more and more material goods.

Most parents tell us that they only want to be practical, not realizing that the poverty is in the collective consciousness of almost everyone that are being enslaved by consumerist trends and culture. There would never be any satisfaction in this. Worse, the family is also modelled to function as an economic asset, investing in formal education not for the sake of fulfillment of the children, but on the security that the family would be ensured of being able to consume more material goods. If only people would educate themselves in the light of reforming the structures of the society where they belong, then the worst kind of genocide-- poverty-- would be lessened to a great degree.

The youth who are supposed to resist and reform this system are slowly eaten by it. And by the time that they become aware of the true situation, their energies would have been exhausted by the system itself. Why? Because of the inculturation of consumerist trends by various social institutions like the family, media and education. Not to mention the failure of the church to promote true progress holistically, of not being enslaved by this culture. Why not evangelize using the Social Teachings of the Church?


It seems a hopeless case. But then again, if there are still people who do not stagnate in their thinking and resist the current system, then there is still hope. If intellectuals stop taking pride in their being ONLY intellectuals and not engaging in endeavors that would help their countrymen, then there is a lot that can be done. They must participate actively in policy making and not only on being steeped in intellectual enterprise. For knowledge is meant to improve the lives of humanity, not oppress it. In a nation like ours, we CANNOT afford to have farfetched thinking; what we need is grounded knowledge and the drive to put this into use to help the needy.

why the argument "Love vs Mind"?

As a guy that heard and read numerous conflicts that abound the argument mentioned in the title in this entry, I am truly disheartened. Not only to the fact that there is an unbelievably number of people that thinks according to the idea of the argument, but because inspite of all the peers/friends/colleagues that I have already given advise regarding this, they're still hooked to it.

Love is an electromagnetic impulse from the hypothalamus gland. Well, as far as physiology is concerned, it is. Anyway...

I am surprised-- and appalled-- by people who actually believe (usually not consciously) that love and related processes are in that organ: the heart. The media and other social institutions have already ingrained to almost all people that love resides there, which is NOT. The heart is not also pink, or red; its actually black.

The reason why many people, including intellectuals, attribute love to the heart is because when experiencing ANY EMOTION, an individual immediately feels something in his/her heart. And love, being the most influential emotion, gained the right to be primarily attributed to the said organ. So?

Love or any emotion are located inside the brain. So?

The reason, I believe, that many people find it hard to solve problems like "career vs. relationship" is because they dicotomize the mind from emotion. In Filipino parlance: "isip laban sa puso". And in thinking in such a limiting framework, the possible solutions are also limited because one thing is exclusively in one and cannot be in the other. What people do not realize is that the two are separate, yet intertwined, ideas. That is why I believe that, forgive me from sounding cheesy, true love is a balance between the mind and emotion. Partly logical, partly not. The same thing goes for the problem with most people is that they think with their hopes and dreams, rather than with their minds (more on this in another post that I'll make).

We are too saturated with bivariate logic, as if it is is truth speaking for itself. I envy the natives that I know, because that do not think really that way. They do not over-departmentalize things so that they could still see the inter-connectedness of all objects.

I hope, reader, that you take my side, even if only patially, on the matter.



Merci!

On SHC's English Campaign

The BED of Sacred Heart College has been implementing the english campaign to the students. At first, it was OK for us way back in highschool. But 2 or 3 years ago, it reached a distressing level, at least for me. They are mandating the students to speak the language exclusively, save for some exceptions like their Filipino or Sibika classes. Worse, they are not letting ANY articles in the school paper in Filipino because of the campaign. The rationale is obvious: to make the students "competitive" in the future by speaking it. Again, this spells doom, at least for me. And I am NOT over-reacting. What I'm about to say below is not based on hearsay or indoctrination. It is actually pedantic.

Language, defined, is a collection of spoken words that is arranged arbitrarily and used by a particular group of people.

Words are representations of everything in a people's experience. Therefore, a word cannot exist in a language if the people who use it originally DO NOT experience it. For example, the Filipino word yelo came from the Spanish hielo, the term for ice. Why did we copy it from them? Because it DOES NOT exist in the original experiences of our ancestors.

It therefore follows that an individual's limitation on language is also his/her limitation on his/her world. We did not experienced hamburgers until the americans came so we do not have a native term for it, it DID NOT EXIST in the world of Filipinos before they introduced it here.

That is why if you want to control or influence a group of people, you have to alter and modify their culture by any means. And language is one effective avenue for this. Ever wonder why the youth nowadays are not that nationalistic anymore compared to past generations? That is because most of them speak a language that is already buthcered, mixed or combined. In the Filipino layman's term-- chopsuey na walang lasa (tasteless/bland chopsuey). Therefore, it is reasonable to think that when a group's commitment to their own language falters, their genuine, indegenous culture also suffers. This contributes to the diminishing nationalism not only of the youth, but majority of the Filipinos. And for god's sake, nationalism does not merely border on basking in the light of glory when athletes or performers win in international competitions.

Going back to the original topic, the primary reason why the BED implements such things is to encourage the students to be fluent in the language, therefore increasing the probability that they would join the bandwagon of foreign employment and contribute to the ever-increasing brain drain in the country, in the case of SHC-- NURSING. You do not know how much it pains me to hear people look for JOBS and not CAREER; how everybody wants to be a nurse not because of their calling to take care of the sick, but primarily TO EARN MORE MONEY ABROAD. The same goes for those wanting to be in the US Marines, Armed Forces or call centers. And I blame the educational system for this, aside from the government and media.

I do not condemn the campaign, I just want to emphasize that it must be lessened a little. They're even suppressing creativity and academic critical mindedness by forbidding articles or literary pieces IN FILIPINO in the school paper. I mean, can you imagine how sick this is, the consequences of this in the future just for the quick remedy of hoping to solve the financial needs? Very few realize that this kind of scheme, this kind of sick thinking, would not really cure the structures of our society-- it would only make matters WORSE. We need a cure, not a remedy. Add that to the static thinking that many people have these days, looking at progress SOLELY on the economic side. Our fellow countrymen need us, not those foreigners.

To you who are reading this, may you not prejudge me. Think thrice and consider what I have said before doing so.

There goes my two cents.


Salaam malay kum

Unknowledgement

The author of this blog acknowledges the fact that you, who are reading this, might be also like him. Moreover, he wishes to offer you, whatever your socio-demographic is:

1.) that he is a southeast asian islander, and is proud to be one.

2.) that he, despite his unapproval of what his countrymen's attitudes are, still cares for his nation

3.) that he has a grasp of why and who foreign people are to blame for no.2

4.) that he is an eclectic Catholic, not limited by boundaries of any religious (or philosophical) dogma

5.) that his faith crosses (and transcends!) different religions

6.) that he does not believe so much in bivariate logic

7.) that he holds that it is very stupid to assume that intellectuals are ONLY in the urban areas

8.) that, unless one has a projectile-firing weapon aimed at him in a radius of more than 4 feet, he is not to be messed up with physically

9.) that he does not have time for any emotional blackmail, especially by his former and present dates

10.) that even as it seems to be that he is a chauvinist (for narrow-minded jerks) because of his dating skills and knowledge, he is actually somewhat a feminist

11.) that despite his dating skills and knowledge, he did/does not have a girlfriend yet

12.) that he is STILL a virgin

13.) that he does drink but does not, and would never, smoke

14.) that he loves food, real food, and so he likes to cook too

15.) that he hates chocolate, except for native tableya

That's all for now.

Now...

For various reasons, I have already forgotten my password to my former blog, lotusnglucena (memory is often what we WANT to remember anyway). So I made another one. As for now, I do not have anything in mind to post in particular significance. Instead of wasting more time here, I'll just play DotA.




Merci!