Ahh Sembreak

Sembreak.

I'm barely even blogging anymore and the only time that I actually feel like talking about anything is when I have nobody to talk to and I have nothing to watch. I should stop always nagging about why I never blog regularly. It is quite gay.

So. I'll go all chronological. Sembreak began with a rather strange breakdown of emotions courtesy of a certain person I always hang around. Haha. You crazy person you. THEN the next day came. It promised to be quite an awesome day because my dear beloved blockmate, Jhalec, was treating the entire block to yet another smokeless grill buffet meal. This time a lunch. It was rather excellent. I fuckin' love sushi. I used to wish that I could have an entire fucking house built of sushi. Now I know that dream to be lie. My father would never approve. (sigh)

ALSO, it must be noted that it was during this day that I first parked into a mall carpark...BY MYSELF. OHSHIT. I'm a total faggot... WELL FUCK YOU TOO, DUDE!!!

Anyways, the food was excellent. And I spent a lot of the lunch time taking pictures like a fuckin' hipster. Totally sweet. Aimee, saw this and noticed that I quite intentionally took pictures of all the male crotches in the block. She said that if had collected all the pics that I've been taking and placed them into a single collage type of work I'd have a piece of art. Very pretentious (according to Jules) art... But still art.

That lunch was pretty sweet too cause it was then that I got the result of one of my biolab long tests. I got pretty good there. 49/60. Although, due to a correction, I should get 50. Fuck yeah bitch. Not that impressive...


So then after an interesting afternoon of monkeyshines and shenanigens. We had a drinking session at Albert's place. I'll sum it up by saying that Cobra Smart mixed with drinks is an excellent way to never want to drink the rest of the night due to the fucking headache you get from the fucking Cobra Smart. Banana flavoring = motherfucking nail polish. Piano Man is the greatest song to sing when you're drinking. Ever. EVER. EVER. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gxEPV4kolz0&ob=av3e Click it fool. And finally, beer is damn delicious and under-appreciated by the current youth (or just my block). *drinks ice-cold Coors Light* FUCKING DELICIOUS.

I grow tired of blogging about my fun times. I'll just remember them whimsically when they pop back in my head.

I'd just like to share just one more thing that I thought about just yesterday. It has something to do with the pic below.

Boom.

Well, my point really more has to do with the actual thing. The picture does no justice to the actual thing.

This is a shot I took with my phone of the sun set at Taal Lake. We just came from Tagaytay a few hours ago. For the first time that we've been there we decided to take a boat to see the volcano itself. It was cool. The trip back was the chillest thing ever. All I could see was just wide open space. You could see some lake birds flying by the boat. The sky was painted with different colors. Everything was just so wide and beautiful. The silence. The splash of the water by the side of the boat. The colors in the sky. The clouds. The way patches of the sky remained blue while other parts turned orange. It was just so amazing. I felt like I was just a dude again. That being a reference to the time during the Ilocos fieldtrip where I told Nica that I felt like "just a dude in the world" as I looked out to the road. That same feeling came back to me. It was an awesome feeling. I felt so small but still so happy to be alive to breathe in all this life.

It was more than chill. It was just remembering that I am alive.

So how about some "just a dude" tunes?

Dust in the Wind - Kansas
Blowin' in the Wind - Bob Dylan (preferred but the other one is cool too)

For Sir G

This past week's been a strange week. Long tests. The final FLC (fuck yeah). Post Ilocos field trip. Which reminds me. I haven't blogged about a lot of things I should have been blogging about. The top of that list would have to be the death of my high school art teacher.

He was Mr. Carreon. My class and I called him Sir G. He was awesome. Always fashionable. Extremely friendly. Always happy to see you. He was a friend more than a teacher. But he was still a damn good one. He taught us all about art and what we should expect from art. The last time we talked was early during my first year of college. Back then I used to walk to school using Murphy's walk to go through the high school on my to the college. I bumped into him near the APSA. I think I was gonna ask Sir Sandy at the APSA if I could still get a Murphy's walk pass. (Just goes to show how high school minded I was up 'til then. Also, if you pass at Murphy's walk, you'll only ever need the pass once in your entire stay. Nobody ever watches that entrance into Ateneo except when opening or closing it.) So Sir G and I chatted a bit. I remember him complimenting me on my nice shoes. The black ones with the green, yellow and red stripes. My everyday shoes. It was really nice to hear that from him especially since he was the perfect model of a fashionable dude. We also talked about the stupid misprint on my I.D. It said School of Social Sciences and Engeneering. Sir G was like "Ateneo de Manila ba 'to?!" And I was like, "I know right".

It was really sad to lose him. To never have a chance to talk to him again. Talk about that Mideo Cruz exhibit. See what he thought about it. Analyze that shit. But I guess the smallest silver lining in all this is that whatever he taught and all the memories that we have of him will stay with us. In that way I guess he's never gone. We'll always remember him.

I talked to Aimee about this the night after we found out about his passing away. Everything is a memory. At least to us it is. It's a concept I remember discussing in Mr. Devilles' Filipino class. Anyways, everything is a memory. That's what ties together what happened and what happens today. So, even though someone dies. We still remember who they are and what they were to us. It's not a perfect way of looking at things. It's no replacement for actually having him back but at least we can reflect on how these people change us and make us who we are.

So there.

That's most of what I wanna say for Sir G.

Thank you, Sir. You changed me in a lot of ways. I'll always remember you.

GK, Fatcats, Traveling, Blips in Time, Dr Manhattan and Hope (One of the most malabo posts ever...or the best one yet!)

So we came from a GK visit just yesterday. It was going to be the first time we'd actually get to the meat of this whole NSTP thing and get away from all the preparations, talks and introductions. We got to the site and were immediately greeted by lots of kids that recognized us from previous visits. Some of them going, "Kuya Rap! Habulan nanaman tayo!" It felt nice to be remembered. Awkward though since I totally forgot who that kid was.

After walking up to the center of the area you'd notice that it's not as clean and pristine as all the videos about GK would suggest. There was still one river of garbage that I has yet to be cleaned up or at least fenced off so that people won't fall in. But I guess that's not so bad considering how the place must have looked before they started building better homes. Anyways, we were split up into groups. I had the distinct pleasure of being teamed up with Cheryl! Something I was thankful for because her cheerful pleasantness greatly complemented my being a badass with a heart of gold. Plus her Filipino is much better than mine...

We got to the first house. You could see that it was small even on the inside. The living room/ sleeping area comprised of a shelf of toys and trinkets, a picture frame full of medals and ribbons and a small TV (I might be making up the part about the TV). We sat on small plastic chairs near the door. Beside us you could see a thin girl was busy working on her school project about the different natural land formations in the Philippines. She was cutting up pictures from a poster and gluing them onto some bond papers. (We later found out that she owned those medals and ribbons). Beth, her mother was seated in a small chair in front of us. To her side, was her five year old son who would later on prove to be sort of the main thing about the visit.

As we proceeded with the interview we learned that our host had one more daughter who was busy playing outside and a husband that worked as a janitor. She told us that her two daughters both go to school only when they had enough money to take the trike that they needed to get there. What really interested me was what she told us about her son, Johnver's, medical condition. He had an enlarged heart and apparently needed a heart transplant. Currently they're waiting for an available donor to pop up. In the meantime, he takes medication provided by a German medical mission thing that has been working there for the past 25 years. These kind people supply him with the medicine he needs for no charge but unfortunately can no longer help him once their contract expires. That means his parents will have to buy the medicine for him. At about Php 350 per tablet, a recommended dosage of 1 tablet a day, and a minimum wage salary of Php 300+ a day (not including food, living expenses, and other things they have to pay for), I highly doubt they'll be able to maintain his medication without help.

According to her most medical missions only supply stuff like antibiotics. They do not cater to special cases like Johnver's. I couldn't help thinking about the government again. About how those motherfucking fat cats are nice and cozy living in their big ranches and huge flat screen TV's. Stealing money that could have been used to help people that will probably die without that help.

It's a sad screwed up world we live in. People can be hella selfish. There is some good though. On occassion. I guess GK is a testament to that.

I wish I could help too but then there's also I lot that I want for myself. I just saw a video that featured some hipster dude traveling the world. It's a really simple shot but the beauty from it comes from the stunning HD and the many many colorful sights and locations. It makes anyone want to quit and become a traveler. Question: how does one become a traveler? And I mean traveler not tourist.

Wish life were that easy. Wish people didn't have to die so unfairly. Wish traveling didn't cost so much. Wish I could go around the world and taste all the different dishes they have to offer. I wanna fucking eat some sushi.

Sigh.

You know there was this other thing that I was thinking about in church (other than mass blows lol). I was thinking that we're not so important. It's not a new thought but I got a different perspective of it in church. I looked around and saw all the people going to church as little blips in the history of the universe. They're just carrying on what happened billions of years ago. I mean life. As human beings we like to think of ourselves as important and special. We live our lives not considering the millions, thousands of even hundreds of years that will go by. We put importance in ourselves only (teenagers especially, psychology 101 will tell you that), when really, all we're going to do is die. The Earth will continue to exist for millions of years after all the humans on Earth have died. I'm not saddened by this though, cause as soon as my mind zooms out to that vast distance of time and space I remember where I am. Right here in a tiny little corner of the universe. Typing on my little keyboard and sipping on cold coffee.

I'm going to die but then so what? It's a marvel I'm alive in the first place. It's scary and vast out there but it's from that very same stuff that I was born.

I guess I got to thinking about this cause I remember Mr. Manhattan talking about this with Laurie Juspeczy, the Silk Spectre. He found the value of life in its unlikelihood. He called it a Thermodynamic Miracle. And if you're gonna go like, "You can say that about every life form!"

He said this:

"Yes. Anybody in the world. ..But the world is so full of people, so crowded with these miracles that they become commonplace and we forget... I forget. We gaze continually at the world and it grows dull in our perceptions. Yet seen from the another's vantage point, as if new, it may still take our breath away. Come... dry your eyes, for you are life, rarer than a quark and unpredictable beyond the dreams of Heisenberg. Come, dry your eyes. And let's go home." 


Yeah. I better conclude this thing. Maybe in a few years I can come up with something better. Right now though I hope you guys are alright with this:


The world is a dark place full of problems and death but  I guess that's why it's a good thing we can dream and go beyond what we have. Selfish or not selfish it's a way for us to remember what we can do to make our lives and the lives of others better. It's also a way for us to gain new perspectives and see the miracles in the seemingly commonplace. Johnver might be able to get some help if we do something about it. I could get to travel if I stay with my relatives in Japan. People around us become miracles that defy the chaos so prevalent in the universe. Maybe someday I'll get my sushi.


So yeah. It's good to dream, cause dreams are hopes and hope never dies.

CHORONZON: I am a dire world, prey-stalking, lethal prowler.

MORPHEUS: I am a hunter, horse-mounted, wolf-stabbing.

CHORONZON: I am a horsefly, horse-stinging, hunter-throwing.

MORPHEUS: I am a spider, fly-consuming, eight legged.

CHORONZON: I am a snake, spider-devouring, posion-toothed.

MORPHEUS: I am an ox, snake-crushing, heavy footed.

CHORONZON: I am an anthrax, butcher, bacterium, warm-life destroying.

MORPHEUS: I am a world, space-floating, life nurturing.

CHORONZON: I am a nova, all-exploding... planet-cremating.

MORPHEUS: I am the Universe -- all things encompassing, all life embracing.

CHORONZON: I am Anti-Life, the Beast of Judgement. I am the dark at the end of everything. The end of universes, gods, worlds... of everything. Sss. And what will you be then, Dreamlord?

MORPHEUS: I am hope.

A Hope in Hell

Words that try to sum up something but fail

I've been trying to put off posting something for a while now. A lot of it is due to the fact that I wanted to stay quiet. I'm probably deluding myself into thinking that maybe that's what I'm supposed to be doing. I figured though, it would be a waste to let the moment go by without saying anything about it. Maybe I needed some form of closure to mark the end of an era. It's probably really selfish of me but I'll just go on ahead and do it.

Yesterday was my sister's high school graduation. It was a long ass ceremony with a mass and speeches. The whole shebang. That day would be also the last whole day I would be spending with my relatives from Japan. The last time they came over was two years ago. I guess that just adds to the changes. Or at least I would like to think so.

College changes people. I say I have to agree. I have changed. I myself probably don't see those changes sometimes. But they're there. Or maybe they were latent traits that remained dormant but required changes in my own environment. All in just my first year. I wonder what else will change as time goes on. It scares me.

Yeah, that's one year down. Three more to go. Time moves fast. We all know that. I think the most important lesson in all of this change and speed is that (quite obviously) we have to live make sure everyday is spent wisely and as full as you can.

I digress.

People change. Times change. We're all moving into our endpoints and there's always a chance that we might lose those we care for. We have to be careful to avoid that. I learned that the hard way.

Things to be thankful for. I'm thankful for all the people I've met. First year was varied and full of different personalities. It was fun meeting people from everywhere. You also learn more about yourself. I'm also thankful for the friendships you make. The ones that get tested. The ones that last.The ones you will never forget.

This is my last first year (unless I decide to go to med school). Beginnings are great. Endings are used for reflection. I can't even begin to really sum up the year. Just creating the clincher leaves me already extremely incoherent. All I can really say is, thank you. Thank you to the people who were there. The people who weren't there. The people I didn't like. The people I love. The people who shared parts of themselves. The people who helped me grow. The people who loved me though I deserve much less. The people who you will never find anywhere else no matter how hard you try. The people you can never make it up to.

Thank you. I can never say that enough.

Finale vibe over here.

Changing my Life, Mom and Facebook, Dad and Horses, Japan and the Wrath of Phuket Thailand

I have two papers due tomorrow. A Lit poem analysis of the draft and the final version of Amaryllis by Ellen Bryant Voigt AND the draft for my reflection paper. I first imagined a reflection paper to be just a blogpost on paper. Guess I was wrong. Maybe it's the topic that makes it hard. "The moment in my life that affected me the most" or some sort of thing like that. I like to think that my life was not solely influenced by a single event. I guess I'm a work in progress. Every little thing that happens to me changes me a little. Some more than others.

 Enough of that shit.

Yeah. I'm just bumming. Finals week's coming up. Got a couple of long tests for this week too. A documentary for Fil to work on. There's also the lit play I helped write. Which I should mention is very very sweet. Not sweet awesome. Just sickeningly sweet. Damn my Eng/Lit block's love for sweet stories. We should have done something like Young Man in a Jeepney by Merlie Alunon. It's this poem about some cougar who savors the ass heat of a strapping young man who just got off the jeep. Bel was on fire during the analysis of that one.

What else... I haven't posted pics of Dark Shore yet. I feel like it's getting to be old news. And we need to perform more. Which reminds me. Recently, I've been feeling like a 90's teenage girl. Sort of like Debbie from the Wild Thornberries. My mom took to the habit of using Facebook. I have to say, back then, I thought  that those 90's teens who complained about how nosy they parents were especially when they were "keeping up with the times" were whiny bitches. Now I myself have become a whiny bitch. She's filled my computer with hundreds of copies of photos because she messed up copy-pasting them into another folder. She's tagged herself AND HER FRIEND on my super vain profile pic of me with a guitar (oh the visuality).

I do wish though, if she were to use a computer, that she learn how to use one properly. Or at least not leave so much shit lying around. Haha. I know, I'm asking for a beating. Maybe part of me is very confident that she will never see this blog (because she doesn't know how or she doesn't know what a blog is...teehee) or I'm still being a whiny teenage girl from the 90's.

In that sense, I admire my dad. So steady. So not reliant on computers. He will not appreciate anything that isn't either, delicious to eat, something related to horses, or business. For those of you who are wondering, my dad owns horses. They aren't magical. They don't eat light and shit rainbows. They don't fly. They're pretty neat like big dogs. And like dogs they bite. My dad got bit by one, right on the boob. It was purple for a while. Sounds quite funny, but it's only really a little funny.

And since everyone got in on the bandwagon and they're pretty close to getting out, I'll join in! Japan and the Earthquake.

I heard about it first from my dad who asked if my Tita living in Japan lived near Tokyo. I remember them staying somewhere else like Osaka so I thought that they would be pretty okay. The reality of the thing didn't sink in 'til much later. I saw footage of the tsunami on CNN and it looked like water sweeping up some diorama. Like if you stuck your AP (that's social studies to you) project into a canal during heavy rain. I couldn't help but think of Godzilla coming out of the water. (Yeah, I'm a terrible person) Anyways, we didn't get any word about whether they were safe or not until the wee hours in the morning when my mom managed to call them when communication was restored in Japan. (We should have used the internet instead, people managed to Tweet in spite of the shit happening around them) It turns out that they were okay. They lived about a 2 hour drive from the epicenter and only their figurines broke. My cousin and her dad got home at about 3 am already but they were safe.

With this event came a surge of posts, stats and other things in support for Japan. Of course, I doubt the authenticity of those posts. Clicking a like page isn't going to save anyone unless there's some sort of money involved and of course prayers help (I'm taking this with a MOUNTAIN of SALT) ONLY if you do something about it after. But at least the word is getting out.

Those damn cutesy Koreans...

Just last night, my grandma was getting into somewhat of a heated argument. It wasn't really an argument. She just kept talking about the nuclear power plant exploding. I found what she said hard to believe. Not because I don't believe in explosions. It's cause my grandma, bless her heart, misquotes and summarizes stories so erroneously some times. She just kept talking about how they evacuated the people 60 km and that 4 people died. So, I watched the news with her to check. As I was listening though she kept going, "YOU SEE!" when it had nothing to do with 4 people dying or something about 60 km. Oh grandma...

After which she mentioned how  people on the radio were talking about how Japan had this coming because of:

A. Some Tower of Babel analogy

~OR~

B. The atrocities committed during the Second World War

If you've read my previous post about how I'm an atheist. You might be able to imagine how I reacted to the first. I'm not gonna dwell on that. I just have to say, if you sincerely believe that. I believe you are Amish and I laugh at your fear of light bulbs.(Insensitive cartoon stereotype)

The second point also ticked me off. I'm not gonna even explain why. I mean c'mon. Who seriously believes that? It reminds me of the other Tsunami that hit Phuket, Thailand some time ago. My AP (that's still social studies to you) teacher mentioned that he didn't necessarily believe that it was the wrath of God. But it made you think...Phuket...Phuket... Puke...

Are you phuking kidding me, sir?

Comics, Pokemon and Rock 'n' Roll

Hello blog. It's been a while since I've had something to write that wasn't some self-indulgent thinking spell. Thank God.


Anyways, I'll start with something really lame. Pokemon. (I wish I could do the e with a line properly...) A few weeks or something ago, Aimee gave me a copy of pokemanz on her usb (the cap of which is probably being gnawed on by a cow in Batangas. Sorry, Aims!) It brought back lots of awesome memories of me playing pokemon. Only now, made more fun thanks to the spacebar which skips all the boring shit like walking. My journey through pokemanz was not at all smooth. The first time i tried it, I was all excited about the killer set of Pokemon I had devised. Then all that disappeared when the file was deleted. I think it was because I fumbled with the fucking load and save. I saved when the game started. Which meant the previous file on that slot was deleted... Lost forever to random ones and zeros...


In case this is obscure to you, saving on an emulator is different from how you save the file on the game itself. On an emulator, you save from any point during the game including the title sequence. I made the dumbass move to save during the title sequence...


On to something slightly less childish and a little more geeky. Webcomics. Not really webcomics. More of a Fil project. Not even my own Filipino Project. The same friend who lent me the usb whose cap I have lost and left susceptible to possible viral infection, had just recently been commissioned with the task of doing an epic comicstrip on the lives of Soaperman and Sipilyo Ranger. I'm not going to get into the details of the story (though I assure you it is filled with educational value and women's feelings). What I will talk about however is artistic direction. Tried my hand at helping out with the storyboard of the comic. It was loads of fun. The story went from a legit children's comic to something peppered with slightly more mature themes.

I use mature loosely.

Moving on to the last thing on the title,  Dark Shore rocked Health Sci night. We were bitchin'. I can say we because my guitar was totally heard (I was afraid it wasn't). That night we did a cover of You Give Love a Bad Name.  It was epic. Everyone else that night did acoustic things or pop things. We shattered the trend. Don't even get me started on the lights. The lights. The stage. The smoke machine. Kick ass. As lame as it sounds coming from the guy who played second guitar to someone like Jules Balmaceda, that night was awesome. I'm glad we played that night. If the rest of Dark Shore is listening,  thanks guys. ಥ_ಥ

(When I get some of the pics back. Or the vid. I shall post.)

V-day

I am noticing an ever increasing trend of me writing when I have nothing else to do.

Anyways, Valentines day just came and gone. This year's Valentines had much more emphasis than a lot of the previous Valentines days before. I wonder why...

I am not going to talk about the details of the day. Most of it would mean nothing to you. What I will write about is the conversation Bel and I chanced upon when we got back to our blockmates after obtaining some flowers (from Isko's secret garden).

The blockmates were in the middle of some heated argument about the meaning of Valentines day and why you have to have 1 day special. Someone said that you should just treat everyday as special as Valentines day. Jeth (correct me if I'm wrong) said that you need to have one day special to set them apart from the other days. Personally, I agree with Jeth.

It's like having your favorite dessert and spending everyday celebrating that you have that dessert without really enjoying it. You can say that being happy that you have the dessert is part of enjoying it but you never really eat it. The best part about having dessert is sinking your teeth in it and savoring the flavor. Not overthinking it. Just chew, swallow, digest. (I really hope you're following my logic) Similarly, love is like that. You can't spend everyday going apart from your daily routine to celebrate your love. You have to integrate that love into your day. Into the skip in your step. Into that extra millimeter added to the width of your smile as you laugh at some lame joke your blockmate says. Into the breath of fresh air after a long test. That's what love's about: living with it. Not what it's all about, mind you.

I hope I made some sense in what I said. It's just what I think anyway. Not all of what I think. Haha.

Anyways, for those of you who hate extra sweet couples on Valentines, here's a vid of the annual stoning of a disgustingly sweet couple.

Click me!