death of the author

marami akong gustong i-blog. mga personal na sikretong nais kong ibahagi sa buong blog universe, mga bagay na hinding hindi ko sasabihin kaninuman.

marami nga namang solusyon dito.
maaaring palitan ang mga pangalan ng mga katauhan sa kwento, pwedeng ibahin ang ilang mga detalye upang di masyadong halata.

at ikabit ang tatak na "non-fiction".

tulad ng marami (o baka ako lang), gusto ko ng confirmation na Oo, magaling nga ako magsulat, na may kakayahan din akong maging manunulat. pero ewan, ewan ko ba.

(pakiramdam ko naging meme na ang "pero ewan, ewan ko ba".)

gusto ko makapagsulat ng malaya, para hindi nakakabit sa katauhan ko ang aking mga pinagsusulat.

may kilala na akong gumawa/gumagawa ng blog na para sa ganun.

at baka sumunod na ako.

pero ewan, ewan ko ba.

Hearts are easy to draw, seriously.

It is four in the morning (and I'm walking along) and I have yet to finish (read: finish not start) the genogram which is due technically tomorrow but logically today. A genogram is a sort-of genealogy, a family tree but more complex in the sense that location, occupation, diseases and much more need to be included.

I associate crayons with white. With huggable fluffiness.

And, yeah. As dictated by my oh-so-creative juices, I am using crayons to decorate the otherwise bland square meter of paper I wrote it on.

I bought these crayons just after the semestral break.
Drawing cards/ letters could be fun, sometimes.

My initial thought was to color the squares (males) blue and the circles (females) red. So that it would be easier to comprehend, since the professor would have to read/scan/look at say, 30 genograms?

That was one of the most difficult cards to write.
Seriously.

And then I noticed the red pen was missing. I am sure it is either no longer here or too blunt or short to use properly. Is pink a better choice?

I can't draw teddy bears, by the way.

****
wink wink

i will be socially relevant.

for you are but a construct.

Smiley Faces

If you could live forever, why the hell would you?

(cue: EDGAR CALEN PAREEEE!)

"You are so cool,
You look so good in this shirt."
-F













"...for the only one i know who could pull it off. haha. Love you, Carl!
-Louj



I rarely receive gifts from people I care about. Before I opened the box, I promised, with my right hand raised, that yes, of course, I promise to wear it (I even said I'll wear it the day after).

And yeah, few gifts make you say
"HOLY CRAP!" ten times in a row, followed by massive panic.

Fun.:) Thanks guys.

Question:

What will be your reaction when you see a guy wearing a shirt saying:
"I GOT BITTEN BY EDWARD CULLEN"?




-hahaha. :D

Blame the time.

Thoughts

***********

I often wonder/wander

about/ along this moonlit/moonlight dream/shadow

Thinking of (the) existence/ontology

Of three (3) am thoughts.

Ideas that flutter/fly

Mocking/Teasing the fine threads of coherence.

Like a butterfly

That I just cannot chase/catch.

My garden/grove of thoughts/ideas silently

being devoured.

Pollinated.

Until, finally, it is no longer my own. 

Stray thorns/flowers slowly

Entangling the patch. 

Until nothing makes sense anymore.

Simply because of the desire to

wake up/ stay awake.

*********

LCD Soundsystem - All My Friends

I don't usually post lyrics of songs. But then again I don't usually post.
This was deemed one of the best records of 2007 (indie bloggers mostly). More than a year has passed, but I'm still hooked.
Linky linky

*****************

That's how it starts
We go back to your house
We check the charts
And start to figure it out

And if it's crowded, all the better
Because we know we're gonna be up late
But if you're worried about the weather
Then you picked the wrong place to stay
That's how it starts

And so it starts
You switch the engine on
We set controls for the heart of the sun
one of the ways we show our age

And if the sun comes up, if the sun comes up, if the sun comes up
And I still don't wanna stagger home
Then it's the memory of our betters
That are keeping us on our feet

You spent the first five years trying to get with the plan
And the next five years trying to be with your friends again

You're talking 45 turns just as fast as you can
Yeah, I know it gets tired, but it's better when we pretend

It comes apart
The way it does in bad films
Except in parts
When the moral kicks in

Though when we're running out of the drugs
And the conversation's winding away
I wouldn't trade one stupid decision
For another five years of lies

You drop the first ten years just as fast as you can
And the next ten people who are trying to be polite
When you're blowing eighty-five days in the middle of France
Yeah, I know it gets tired only where are your friends tonight?

And to tell the truth
Oh, this could be the last time
So here we go
Like a sales force into the night

And if I made a fool, if I made a fool, if I made a fool
on the road, there's always this
And if I'm sewn into submission
I can still come home to this

And with a face like a dad and a laughable stand
You can sleep on the plane or review what you said
When you're drunk and the kids leave impossible tasks
You think over and over, "hey, I'm finally dead."

Oh, if the trip and the plan come apart in your hand
You look contorted on yourself your ridiculous prop
You forgot what you meant when you read what you said
And you always knew you were tired, but then
Where are your friends tonight?

Introduction

Not just once have I wished to delete this blog, to erase the vestiges of defeat and sadness that lace this portion of the blogosphere.

(My opening statement is soooo kewl)

I can't remember when I started this blog -- an empty mess for quite some time until I inherited the desire for comments and appreciation and shizz (typical to the internet) -- only when I cross-blogged this with my blogger did this page actually have any content. I have an inherent desire to not post any typical blogpost, which I tend to define by the following template.

"Vague yet catchy title"

"What happened today, I am sad, I am happy, etc etc"
"Rant rant rant rant rant"
"Gush gush gush gush gush"

Tags: HAPPY!, smile, etc etc etc

Well, something like that.
Probably.

I am an extremely prejudiced person, when I come to think about it. I am inflicted, I believe, with sporadic bursts of superiority complex. Perhaps spending three years in the University has much to do about it; it isn't difficult to believe, I'm afraid. Somewhere deep in the mazes of my brain's abyss lies the knowledge that I am indeed more intelligent than most. That I am cunning. That my laziness is key to my soul's equilibrium.

Well, something like that.
Probably.

So I turned all postmodern with my shizz and shazz. Of course, I admit it is indeed extremely difficult to understand my posts, most of them aimed to a target audience, target person, specific per post.
And then there were wastebasket posts, bangag thoughts, litters of ideas, scattered (in)coherences, 3am brainwaves, whatnots. Those, on the other hand, were for my enjoyment alone, an online trashcan for ideas that just deja vu into my morning walk to class or nightly trip to the shower.

Anyway, anyway.
Just saying.
And happy new year.