Through the Eyes of a Punk

An encounter with a pub-house "Angel"

2006-08-21T18:28:00.000-07:00

Aug. 19, 2006

I asked for her name, she told me the first thing that came into her mind. "i'm angel". Fair enough, in this kind of world you don't want to be called some porn-star name like "Jenna" or "Delilah" it will just remind you to be more down on yourself. "Angel" seems average, hell i've met a few "Angels" in my life.

I then asked her how old is she, "18" was the automatic reply, its either she is lying by adding years to her young and not so legal age of 16,17 or worse 15 or she's lying by slashing years of her age of 23,24,25 or worse than getting stomped at 33 years old.

I wonder to myself, so this is what it felt like, what they told you about having your baptismal of fire, your first time with a woman, all for your taking. And here i am, i'm 18 years old together with a girl my age, or what i was made to believe, but deep in my head i know she's either 18 or 16.

It's like having that remote control airplane you want as a kid, you wonder how would it feels like in your hands, controlling it, being in command at the same time watching it fly up in the air.

I'm having that feeling right now, i am in control as i want to think that way, i am in command only i was just fooling myself, because in reality i don't know what to do.

All those years of puberty anticipating for this moment are all gone, its really happening now.

I wanted to talk to her more, i kept asking where she's from, "Bicol" she told me, i remember asking her if her hometown is near Mayon Volcano, she just gave me that puzzling look that tells me she's not in the mood for small talks.

No, this is not the remote control plane i dreamed about as a kid, this does not come with an operation manual, there is no battery, no electronic gadget inside, just like me she is a person, deemed okay to think for herself, she has a feeling of her own and just like me we both have our reasons why were here doing this.

It started from small kiss, i started missing her lips, you can say i'm feeling the nerves, my hands then ventured into territories it never been before, my heart is trembling fast like a fault line under the island of Sumatra.

Deep breathes and whispers of nothing, just dead words without meaning, just for the sake of communicating in between exchanges of air passageways.

All of a sudden the dark spot that we're sitting in becomes more darker, gone are the laser rapid lights, the Madonna song "like a virgin" eventually becomes this orchestral music background that has stopped ringing in your ears, the laughter of fellow drunks have become somewhat an illusion of the past.

We are both lost in our own world, then i remember how much would this cost me? she already downed three ladies drink, prior to going there my friend told me it costs 180 a pop and this was way back in 1997. My minimum wage working in a fast-food can only take as much.

"Ah Fuck the money" i told myself. This is me being born out of innocence, this is me having that baptismal of fire, this is me being Ron Jeremy without the real sex., this is me kissing a young girl who was fooled by others driven by hopelessness to get herself into this kind of world, this is me taking every advantage of that, this is me going into the wild-side, this is me sinking into the depth of human wickedness, this is me all fucked up with no turning back.

It's 3:30 am, i said my goodbye to my workmates, you know after days of working our asses of in that hot kitchen of this fast-food stall, we decided to have fun that night and the idea of going into a beer-house were almost unanimously decided.

I know i still have a class the next day, or is it today already 3:30 am is counted as tomorrow 4 hours ago, yeah i decided right there to ditch my class in the morning.

Here i am under a shed, rain is pouring slowly now as i watched the exits of the pub, one by one girls laughing under the obvious influence of alcohol goes out, until there she was looking around if someone was waiting for her.

I raised my hand to her, she sees me, she walks towards me with a smile that says "hmm i met you before", she then holds me in the hand and together we walked away from the pub like sweethearts who just came from a rather innocent and romantic date at the movies.

Only that wasn't the case and my innocence will be lost forever in a few hours.

another 'busted boy' experience

2006-08-21T18:26:00.000-07:00

Aug. 9, 2006

"Okay 12:00pm is fine with me, see you there, bye " that's the last thing she told me before i hang up the phone.

By 11:15 the next day i was already at our supposed to be meeting place, i settled on a seat by the window overlooking the traffic below me, as i watched the cars go by and the pedestrians crossing the street, i imagine them rushing to meet someone, just like me, hoping for something special to happen in an otherwise ordinary passing day.

Minutes then came like liter gauges on a gas station, all of a sudden its 12:25, i looked at my clock. "maybe she was just late" i told myself. You know girls are they take forever just putting on their accessories, choosing what shoes to wear, transferring their things to another bag that matches the color of their clothes.

I know the deal, she was just late, probably running at this moment, worried that i was losing my patience already.

Then it's already 1:25 pm, by this time i had to order something, the waiters wont buy my excuse anymore of 'waiting for someone before we order', i've been sitting here for over an hour and a half, checked on the menu, i ordered something to go along with the ice tea, i then settled on some french sounding sandwich.

Fucking 2:15 went by, this time i was thinking of gruesome things, "did she got hit by a speeding truck while crossing the street?", "I'm very much sure she flagged down that serial rapist slash cab driver i've been reading on the papers", or maybe she was kidnapped, she's chinita, probably mistaken for a rich chinese heiress, all those what if's makes sense to me.

Okay 3:00 pm and if she's not here, then i'm outta here as well, i can see the girl who greets diners and lead them to their table, looking at me, she knows i am waiting for someone, i know that she's sensing my sorry state, i tried not to look sad and confused.

By this time i'm very much sure about that taxi driver slash serial rapist scenario, i resisted the urge of going to the police, what would i tell them?, that i had a hunch?. Then it's already 3:45 pm, i had to bid farewell to my table, the french sounding sandwich is reduced to bits and crumbs, my glass of ice tea is sipped dried, i've seen almost a thousand people come and go.

I arrived here with people taking their late breakfast and now a new set of diners are taking their before 6 pm dinner.

She's a no show, like Amelia Earhart she just didn't make it. I accepted that fact, i don't care anymore about that serial rapist and hit and run scenario, she ditched me big time.

I was reliving our phone conversation the night before, looking for something in her voice that would tell if it was only a joke, i don't know she sounded sincere and looking forward to our meeting the following day.

What went wrong? i was thinking about calling her, she's not here, chances are she never left home.

I was too embarrassed to know the real score, i let it go, hoping it would go away, i ended up strolling every square inch of SM Megamall.

****

About a week or two passed by, i am sure i was able to set aside that day behind me, i never called her to ask what happened, i know some of her close friends, if anything bad happened to her, I'm sure i would hear all about it, nothing came. So i'm sure that she just didn't show up that day.

Then one day, i was out being a mall-rat once again, to clear my mind, looking for some new book releases, want to read something depressing, to let me know that being pissed and spurned is the most ordinary thing in the world.

I wanted to meet a fictional character who would tell me "never mind the bollocks, life's a gas mate" .

And then i saw her, holding hands with her "supposed to be asshole ex-boyfriend".

****
You remember the phone conversation ( up there, line 1 ) do you?

Well i called her that night, of course i knew all about what happened, she's been crying for days now, or so i was told.

I'm not much of a talker even on the phone, but we ended up talking for about an hour, most of which was spent on how she wanted to move on with her life, not wanting to be this martyred girlfriend that gets cheated upon over and over.

I had a notion that her "supposed to be ex-boyfriend" is a big time asshole, yeah way up there, not even me can match him in an asshole to asshole battle.

****
Well there i am, looking at them at a far distant, i was supposed to be mad, stark raving that is, but i let it go, even i, myself was surprised of how easy it was, but inside me i feel such a loser, here i am and i cant even compete with an "asshole ex-boyfriend" or maybe he's got the edge already, maybe that's love, real love that they both have, maybe they are meant to be? who knows? and i know i don't get to decide on that one.

****
A week later i was feeling depressed, drinking by myself, not wanting to admit being hurt by that experience, but nevertheless i acted like i really was, maybe i am, okay i admit it. I never heard from her again, ( although we would cross paths years later, something for another blog entry ).

****
Days turn into weeks, then into months, slowly she faded away from my memory, replaced by others who would do the same thing, but in much acceptable terms.

****

Right now, she was just a passing memory to me, well not the kind that you'll feel happy about, but here i am wondering why i waited for four hours, maybe i was still hoping she'd show up at the last minute, but she never did, just like the Ramones song "My baby went away for the holidays, said she's going to LA, but she never came back, she never came back". This time she was never abducted by the Klu Klux Klan, she just never showed up, plain and simple.

Wet shoes + Wet socks = smells like wet dog

2006-08-21T18:15:00.000-07:00

Aug. 7, 2006

Slept through the middle of the night, until rains pours in like fists punching holes in your rooftop, knocking on your window that comes with whistling winds of a beast hunting for live preys.

It's 3:45 am, 15 minutes before my alarm clock would sound, might as well stay awake for the remainder of it. Then my head suddenly bursts with euphoric sexual fantasy, most of the time its about girls i knew ( of course they don't know that i thought of them in an ill sexual manner ). This time it will be different i told myself, and here she comes in my mind, a faceless stranger, just the silhouette of her naked body, dancing with crisped motion (ala the pussycat dolls ha-ha), giggling while teasing me until i cant take no more.

The whole fantasy thing lasted for 15 minutes i presumed as the alarm starts to blare sounds that reminds me of an air siren signalling the arrival of an incoming air strike. Which makes me wonder about the fear and loathsome predicament that the people of both Israel and Lebanon are enduring right this moment.

Thinking about that makes me feel safe, at least its just rain compared to rockets and fighter jets dropping missiles. But still i had to drag myself to work, it's only five days after the last payday and here i am, seems like i cant wait for the next one.

Yeah, living from one paycheck to another, guess i am a working class nomad, a vagabond, a wanderer call me what you want ( I'm hearing James Hetfield laughing at the background ).

Then more rain and i know that its already flooded on the high-way where i wait for my ride every morning. I had to do something about that.

So before i go, i covered my feet with a black garbage bag, like it was some kind of an archaeological find, never to be splashed by water.

Walking outside i felt like a health worker wearing plastic suits in an Ebola outbreak zone, probably somewhere in Africa.

An hour later i arrived at the office, you might think that my feet are all dry, that the idea of the garbage bag was way up there with the Isaac Newtons? you're wrong! my feet has never been this cold since my mountaineering days, where wet shoes, socks, feet and tent are of common occurrences.

Here i am with wet socks, shoes and my feet smells of wet dog (probably a poodle). My seat-mate seems to notice it, but unlike me she's clueless of where its coming from. So every-time she would touch her nose, i would act like me too is infuriated by that smell.

I even told her that "it smells of burning popcorn", which she agreed "probably someone left a bag in the microwave at the pantry" she told me.

And me and my stinking feet are safe from ridicule for now.

Which reminds me of dogs, my friend Don is a big 'dog' guy, not your usual pet lover that cares and caress poodles and dalmatian, walks the dog in the park like its the cutest thing in the world.

No, not my friend Don, he raises pit bulls, named them as Tyler Durden, Renton and Yahoo, feeds them to live the fightclub lifestyle. Yeah he pits them with other pit bulls. Sometimes his dog goes home with mangled ears, broken bones, bleeding wounds and asking for more, its their nature to want for more. yeah like Tyler Durden. Fightclub is addicting even for dogs.

So if Don's pitbull is right here, it might probably attacked and eat my feet to pieces already, yeah my stinking feet is a "dead dog walking".

And that my friend is my life story for the day, my highpoint is that sexual fantasy with a stranger and its all downhill from there...

But hey the day ain't over yet, might bump with a willing, beautiful stranger later on...only if the rain stopped even for just a bit.

But hey I'm happy when it rains...who cares about wet feet, you can shower anytime. Whose complaining? not me, I'm just probably sour-graping for not getting some...hmmm some KFC chicken that is!!! ha-ha what are you thinking huh?

Rain soaked life...

2006-08-21T18:14:00.000-07:00

July 30, 2006

As the skies above me turned darker, the winds hugging me like a long lost lover and rain starts to pour, trinkets became bigger, as i made my hurried steps chasing a ride home, i felt happiness i never felt while the sun is out.

Summer is officially over, the sun is gone and i am way over my head with content, its a nice day for a change, gone are the sunny memories and aspirations, here now is the darkened period, rain swept streets and more reminders of what lies ahead in the form of wet blessings from above.

As i look out the window of the train, drops of rain crawling on the glass forming different shapes of circles, the electric wires dancing like a highschool junior on his prom night, just a bit of motion and nothing else.

Below me i can see other vehicles, people heading home, avoiding the frantic weather as it get worser by the day, rain hasn't stopped in more than a week and by the looks of it, it seems we're going to expect more.

But o why o why i am not worried, rain is like the most anticipated event in my childhood, i remember looking at the window when rain would come, asking my mom "hey mom can i shower in the rain now?", my mom would tell me back, to wait for a much stronger rain, because tiny bits of rain brings week long high fever, while a bigger rain is like taking a shower.

Right now, i don't go out and play in the rain anymore, its a no Brainer i just stay at home, looking at the raindrops on my window, lying in bed with one hand holding a book.

Watching and thinking at the same time about past, present and the future debacles that surely would come.

Am i prepared or not? is the question that remains at large, right now i love this moment, the sun is a no-show, how many times would i repeat it to myself, having that thought puts a smile on my face.

Bottomline as i worry about tomorrow, present tense i am happy, just a bit short of not getting pissed off.

But hey as i look at the book on my hand, it says "Ecstasy" by Irvine Welsh, i guess happiness is not about being all to shiny about everything, just like the characters the talented bloke Irvine Welsh creates, you might be a bugger to many, a conspicuous loser to some, a junkie, a has-been shite on the top of the mongrels.

But even though, you holds the right to be contented, even just a bit, as long as the rain would lasts, because as cliche as i may sound, nothing lasts the infinity, they just go the extra mile.

The Poor Man Reckons...

2006-08-21T18:13:00.001-07:00

July 22, 2006

“I would rather be poor in a cottage full of books than a king without the desire to read”-Thomas Babington Macaulay.

I see the point or reason behind that quote, but times had changed, in the present being besieged with knowledge, the urge to read and being knee deep in indulgence of personal passions wont suffice for eveyone.

Today being poor is like being unwanted, just saw the news the other night, a whole neighborhood of shanty homes got burned. In the process a hundred families lost everything, their homes, whatever property they have, like second hand TV, plastic cabinets, soggy couches, run over the mill clothing and other debris of poverty.

A lit candle was the culprit.

A candle supposed to be a source of light, when Meralco cut the electric wires connecting their homes to the primary electric post, Meralco's reasoning "because of illegal power connection".

No problem with that, as a corporation they have all the means and right to protect their services from any untoward mischiefs such as that stated reason.

But on the other side, its what left of the poor, everyday they see rich people, powerful ones make a mockery of our laws, corruption on the corridors of power, from any angles, from bridge construction to a waiting shed. Kickbacks and over pricing sucks money from the national budget unto the pockets of those meaningless souls.

What a poor man got to do?

Dont get me wrong, i hated those cell phone robbers that steal and even kill working class people, i hated those criminals who use poverty as an excuse.

Hate them all!...

But at the same time, i wish that the law would serve equally and blindly, without regards for one's standing in our society.

How come a small time thief, when caught gets busted nose,lips,black eyed,bloodied and all ( i have no problem with that) but on the other hand i see destabilizers like Gringo, Ping, Erap, Corrupt politicians like Mike Arroyo, Erap (again), and 99% of Senators, Congressmen,Cabinet members, City Mayors etc. gets away clean like an asshole's whistle?

The poor always gets the wicked part of the bargain. Always.

I guess being poor is not about being engulfed by your passion, not living in empty temples, being poor is being hopeless, forgotten, just a subject on the nightly news, with the cameras forever capturing their everyday drama, for the viewers to digest ala soap opera. To pump up the ratings of some TV game shows, where the chances of winning the big pot is the same as spotting a giant saucer in the sky.

The government have neglected them, the rest of the society sees them in contempt, to them they are the criminals, the cause of their own poverty. Unfortunately they go on playing that role to the maximum.

And we are forever left frightened by the thought of that, we fear walking alone in a dark alleyway, worried that some thugs out of some poverty stricken home will rob us, or worst kill us by slashing our throat.

It's understandable to fear them, hell i feel that everyday, but at the same time we are all star struck and eager to shake a politician's hand, take a picture with them, exchange meaningless forgettable chit chat.

In the end, we dont know the difference between the criminal on the dark street and that well dressed politician, maybe there aren't any difference at all.

Evil lurks in countless ways.

As we continue to fear for our safety, we feel sympathy to those innocent people who shun away from the life of a criminal, those who works hard, plan their family, goes abroad to work ( including Lebanon), the 99% of the working class, i salute all of them.

Being poor is an undertaking to the fullest, how to properly educate ourselves, because education is the brightest tool against poverty, hope to God my countrymen will realize that.

And being poor also is a moral challenge, because crime recruits those who cling by the blade and that is an under statement knowing that filthy rich people are living the life of crime also.

Invisible

2006-08-21T18:13:00.000-07:00

July 10, 2006

How time changes everything, distance can deliver the killer blows, just as far as my memory could reach, you were there, like what i can see at the picture, your smile, me, happy together, end of the world? we dont give a damn, so what? we might as well say, it's just us together. The most important thing in the world, captured in time, rooted in my memory, to remain there till i go insane.

Until now, i became invisible, i ended up as a passing glance of your life, mine is a few pages at the most of your memoirs, worst! a one sentence reminder of what used to be a part of your life.

Life changes abruptly, we follow our dreams, it means changing courses, across continents for large amount of time, we will meet new friends and those we used to miss will be replaced by new ones.

All of a sudden the "missing you dearly" becomes "hey i remember how you make that annoying sound" , our existence suddenly becomes these myriad collection of random things that stands out, 'how we sneeze', 'how we talk or not talk', 'the way we fall down the escalator one time', it becomes that and nothing more, soon you will be only remembered as the person "who farted at the party which caused a massive disturbance that killed thousands".

Your name precedes a label, a tag or a pseudonym. And chances are your place in her mind will vanish soon.

"Dont be sad" you remind yourself, it happens to everybody. Hell i've seen friends of mine go through that. Why worry?

Now, you start to wonder if ever you cross paths with each other again, what would you do? what to say? how to react? What used to be the normal kiss and hug greeting now transformed into an uneasy kind of stranger to stranger meeting.

Because you are a stranger now, invisible, you are not what used to be in her life. Remember that, put it in your heart, accept the ends, be grateful for the past, its all there is right now. A past. A special part of your yesterday.

From an ordinary man, congratulations you are now a superhero who goes by the name of "Invisible Man", with powers still in limbo, and purpose yet to be defined.

You feel you are now an inconvenience, a possible source of major commotion, traffic jam, flight delays, extreme weather condition, an affliction, an Ebola outbreak and then some.

Which is why its better to be invisible. Never to be seen again. Hidden from pain.

Yet you thank the Gods for the opportunity, maybe it wasn't meant to be, yeah, yeah the mother of all cliche reasons, might as well accept that one.

Or maybe its all your fault, that she distance you out of her life, maybe! probably!.

Bad news! the clock is running, can't "turn back the clock", Jhonny Hates Jazz? yeah i remember the song.

And i do remember everything, i just hope you remember me too...I am not invisible, it's just my superhero name, i'm just right here. Okay?

Just in case

A Day at the Porn Set

2006-08-21T18:12:00.000-07:00

July 1, 2006

When i thought of ways to pump up my interest in showing up for work, i conditioned my mind that every time i would woke up early, i will be dragging myself unto a porn set, you know the likes ( i presume, just use your imagination ).

A random house in the suburbs, with a pool (definitely a plus), a large living room ( where most of the scenes will be shot ), a cozy bedroom with red sheets, shower room and an outdoor garden for the orgy scene. HAHA

So that's where i work, only it exist solely in my mind and nothing more, real world is, my work is just like this, yeah no "getting naked with beautiful women", having an erection isn't a big of a deal either.

Work is staring at the computer for 8 hours, all those talk of LCD monitors ruining your eyesight, bring it on HAHA, in between doing my job, all i do was to surf the net, reading every bit of information available from blogs of Mark Cuban ( the Dallas Mavericks Owner ), crime stories at crimelibrary.com, wikipedia entries ( i even tried adding a wikipedia entry to no avail HAHA ), answering "ultimate sex surveys", reading gossip news, ( is Britney pregnant the 2nd time around?), sports news, all except porn sites ( which are not allowed at work, too bad )

Oh and of course, reading blogs and staring at the pics at Multiply.com ( the best of em all ).

Sometimes i bugger people who had the misfortune of being included in my YM address book ( wanna chat? add me, its mdgaskmenow :P ).

So back to the porn thing, i don't know, i'm not into sex with strangers that much, well first let me define my concept of a stranger to you, for me a stranger is someone i haven't spoken at least 5 seconds, so if you're a girl and we talked for like this:

Me: "ooops sorry"
You: "ahmmm its okay"
Me: "hi"
You: "hi there"

Well, you ain't a stranger to me anymore, if i'm lucky then everything is a go at that point.

Well, well, well i miss those nights out with my hardcore punkmates HAHA too much "Pier 1" memories, i know, i know, its the only club where we can afford the beers, last time i checked its 35 a bottle, don't have a clue of the price right now.

So here i am, with the clock ticking away, i waited 7 hours for this and now I'm wishing that time run a little bit slower, because i got to post this shit on my multiply blog and I'm not yet halfway done ( well, it depends on where my thoughts would take me ).

I cant wait to get home, finally got a copy of Chuck P's "Haunted", took some time to read the reviews for that book, it was as mixed as a chopsuey, but i don't care, those critics who gave it a thumbs down "because of its gore fest" are sissy readers ( probably the same critics who loved "Da Vinci Code" to death ).

For some who liked it, i know why, although they stepped a bit overboard when they compared it to as the "modern day" Canterbury tales, even though, i have no problem with that.

So that's it, my day at the porn set, nothing special for someone whose been doing it over and over again, which comes into mind whether Ron Jeremy ( a veteran of over 2,000 porn films ) feels the same way?...

We will never know, unless you get inside his head, HAHA you know just like in that movie "Being John Malkovich".

Sayonara....for now!

Staring at the Mona Lisa

2006-08-21T18:11:00.000-07:00

June 19, 2006

I think i just shook the world inside me just thinking about the possibilities, but as soon as it started you put a halt in every probability that it will happen.

I don't blame you, see it as it is, its my weakness, to see things in a holistic geltaltism kind of way, i enter then come what may.

You clearly have a way with others, your charm is undeniable, got me pretty good, if that was a gymnastic move, it will be way up there with the Nadia Comaneci's of our time. A perfect 10 in every category.

So as i sulk in my shortcomings once again like a captured Czar Nicolas Romanov, i have no choice but to ponder more, all remaining clueless and dazed.

Maybe i'm in a hurry to fix a wound that isn't healed, i think a machete got me and now i'm playing with swords already, it's supposed to be not in my timetable to a return in you know what.

Maybe it a transgression or slow moving caravan of events that is pissing me off, i felt my life isn't going anywhere, i watched as people close to my heart come and go, some with absolute explanation on why? others left without any reason at all.

Beat that! no bottle of beers can help forget, no one night stand can help fill the loneliness, no false laughter can bring the pretense of happiness.

Its about killing time right now, one day, 24 hours, a day at work burns at least 12 hours of my day, sleep, drink and eat, read a book, watch a movie, daydream, f*ck i've done it all.

Except?

I don't know either.

So back to where i started, i can listen all night to your voice mixed with giggling after effects, talk as much as you like, you can even dance while i just stand, you can puff all those ciggys, i dont care even though i hated second hand smoke, you can speak other languages, well who knows i might learn a few words in the process, just be yourself all is fine with me, but i can only go far with my dream.

(back to the real world )

And here i am staring at the Mona Lisa, f*ck about the code, Da Vinci has a reason for painting you, in my case God is Leonardo Da Vinci and you are his Mona Lisa, which leaves me as one of those curators forever putting a value on you, or one of those so called art aficionados, wishing against all to lay their hands on you.

Well that's life, yeah every once in a while i use that excuse, "that's life", its a convenient way of bringing forth the answer to questions that cannot be concluded.

(well i just have to try)

I therefore conclude that at this early, i have to check my feelings, put everything away, out the door, and so in the end i will be just as happy in having you as a friend.

Damn why do i aspire for the another level? huh! CRAZY !!!

*****

Plus it doesn't helps when the Dallas Mavericks lost 3 straight to the Miami Heat...

It's Raining Blood and its washing away my sins...how i wish...

2006-08-21T18:10:00.000-07:00

June 2, 2006

Got myself caught up in the heavy downpour which came unexpected like the assassin of Leon Trotsky when he got hacked in the head in Mexico.

Oh no this rain ain't a result of Bolshevik vengeance or a Stalin move, its just one of those days when our planet changes climate, hopefully the summer season will come to an end.

Bitter you might say for someone like me who missed going to the beach this year, sans no sight of bikini clad beautiful girls, i would have to make do with staring at the pics here in multiply, so for all the girls out there keep on posting your beach pics.

So the rain pours in as i was in the jeepney, i had to make a stop st SM Marilao to buy something that my mom asked me to, also i plan to get the paperback copy of Neil Gaiman's "Anansi Boys" yeah fat charlie "God is dead".

Which i did at 350 bucks, not bad for a purchase, remembering what a great time i had on Gaiman's previous books "Neverwhere" and "American Gods".

Mission accomplished also on the mangoes and the watermelon, my mom planned on making fruit shake, ice cold that is, to kinda fight the heat, but bulletin news, rainy season seems to be right around the bend somewhere.

So i got off the jeep, i made a mad rush to SM, which is about 200 feet away from the main road, with drops of rain falling on my head, thus messing my faux hawk hairdo hahahaha, my shoes, my pants, shirt everything, i kept on running, while at it i remember that Guns and Roses music video, i think its "November Rain", you know the wedding scene, where it rains then all of a sudden guests ran like pussycats, as if the rain would kill them.

I even thought of making a dive, but the thought of broken bones comes into mind, its just rain, so halfway through it i decided to walk nonchalantly, plus my heart is beating fast, God i need to go back to climbing, i need some exercise. haha

No not the Everest type, probably im gonna start with the little ones first, the kiddie mountain Mt. Makulot, then on the semi easy Mt. Batulo, Talamitam, Sembrano and Natib, then to the heavies which is Banahaw and Halcon.

Then if i could win the lottery maybe get a shot at Mt. Everest also, the $50,000 climbing fee by the Nepalese Government will be easy to cough haha.

Now im dreaming, the result of this rain, im wet all over, felt cold here in the SM branch of Netopia, God i need a hot Milo with milk and a good DVD movie.

Nevermind if im gonna watch it alone, im used to it, i can easily call on my imaginary friends or girl friends, got them all stored here inside my head, hmmm Reema Chanco, Zoey Deschanel, of course the Viva Hotbabes...gonna keep em all coming.

I had 3 days off from work starting today, hmm what to do? what to do? reading Anansi Boys is a fine choice, eating, hmm i got to start thinking about what i eat, last time i check or the doctor that is, my cholesterol level is at the "not so good level" according to Doctor "someone whose name i forgot".

Finally got a thorough medical check up courtesy of my PhilHealth card, damn those health-care are really important especially to the working class, who got no time and budget to drag themselves to an appointment with the Doctor.

I can tell that its still raining outside, i wanna go home, have a hot meal, read my book, cozy up on the bed, watch that "inside man" DVD, i read that its good, one of Spike Lee's best film also his most commercial film to date.

I don't know, my life is still a question mark, im not like those lucky fews whose future are already secured and locked up, worrying about the rain ain't my priority right now.

I'm just glad that it did rain, hopefully it washes away all my doubts, fears, sadness and grief, cleans my soul like a sponge would do to a greasy plate.

Well hows that for a wishful thinking?...

I'm outta here....take care people...see you in the real world...

Paying Homage to Albert Camus' 'The Rebel'

2006-08-21T18:05:00.000-07:00

May 31, 2006

What is a rebel? a man who says 'No' wrote Albert Camus in his book essay 'The Rebel'

Revolution starts out from a noble cause, eventually becoming more brutal than its predecessor, think the Cuban Revolution, Fidel Castro and his band of revolutionaries which includes Che Guevara, together after years of being holed up in the mountains they toppled the dictatorial Batista Regime.

End result, the longest dictatorial regime in modern history, Castro still has Cuba in his grip.

But that was from the viewpoint of the West, do we really know the score in Cuba? unless we live there, does the scores of Cuban boat people in make shift rafts sailing into Florida a justifiable evidence of their sad plight? Maybe.

Where am i getting with all of these?

Well just like Cuba, The Philippines is still considered a third world country, just like them we dream of going away, not by boats, because America is much further apart, we wished for US visas from Santa Claus to the shooting stars in the sky.

The young generation are taking up Nursing of astounding numbers, no one is left to say, they are doing so in memory of Florence Nightingale.

Everyday i think about "should i stay or should i go", watching the news at night brings more negativity than a ++, therefore something ain't right.

Amiss big-time, a roller coaster ride on a downward spiral.

Do we need a revolution? no way, if it meant giving those leftist militants a major role, no fucking way.

We are not yet in that deep of a shit hole.

But once again its my life I'm thinking about here, although i have a job, i can manage to live from paycheck to paycheck, being broke once in a while, never contemplating about opening a bank account ever.

Betting on the lottery, wishing I'm dead sometimes, praying for a miracle, hopes fading, still shredding, checking my sanity and collecting empty experiences.

Which i hope would not go for naught.

Everything has an answer, hell I'm not a bible reading person, if someone told me that Mary Magdalene being the secret disciple is written in one of the gospels in the holy book, i think i will believe it right away.

My faith in God lies not in words, or stories whether real or not, nor in Dan Brown spinning conspiracies, but merely in faith that God is there.

In a place we all call heaven.

So as i remain forever clueless, with answers appearing briefly, i contemplate on the outcome of my existence here on Earth, i know that i am not alone in these debacles.

Life is a revolution, we don't need any more that could shake up our country, community or even the place where we work.

"A rebel is a man who says NO".

No to masquerading, no to mischiefs ( albeit some for some fun ), no to anything that will negotiate our spirits to all time low.

I say a rebel is someone who keeps on fighting.

I love my country, i have high hopes, even though i hate all politicians, rich people ( hmm the jury are still out, still got time to redeem yourselves ), leftist militants ( fuck why don't you get a job )...

I say i am a rebel forever,...i see life as a battleground, being fought within myself.

How's that for a recruitment tag line?

Come Join The REVOLUTION!!!

The sky looks dead

2006-08-21T18:03:00.000-07:00

May 20, 2006

"The sky looks dead Call my name
Through the cream And Ill hear you
Scream again Black hole sun
Wont you come And wash away the rain" Black hole sun: Soundgarden

At first glance, from the looks of it, the sky seems unpredictable for the first time in recent months, is it going to rain or not, it deluded my thoughts for a while, until i remember i had more things i should be worried about.

Then i realized, doesn't everybody else have their own worries? so that's my cue to stop thinking about it.

So i move on, or try to be, am i able? questions will linger, just like the dirt on the road, rain will eventually swept it clean, out of my brain, racking it up further more will make it or render it useless.

I need it, my sanity, please don't let it be washed away, speaking of, i need to busy myself, i have a week's laundry in the basket, i need to wash my jeans, shirts, socks yeah even underwear.

So i go wondering whether the sun will show up.

Stop it, its a mundane worry, there's a lot to be attended to, like what?

Your life fucker, or what's left of it.

Hmmm good preposition, I'm glad this thing inside me, or my head is pushing me at the right prerogatives, although at times there are a lot of junctions, crossings and detours, if you don't know which way, you might end up lost.

Which i did, countless times, impossible to remember each of it, counting scars can be very fatiguing, especially if you get hit behind the back, by the back-stabbers, coward unnamed enemies, in their full battle camouflaged gear, hiding behind the bushes.

Scary, might as well set the whole forest on fire.

Where am i heading with this?

I guess its one of those days where i don't have much to write about, but i just feel i need to get over this, write some shit about whatever, maybe i love having somebody read my thoughts, maybe pissed them off at the nonsensical or whimsical blog entry of mine.

Maybe i need "somebody to shove me and tell me I'm not alone" ( soul asylum ) , or possibly i need a breather.

Which i tried, what to do? what to do?

Watching "Da Vinci Code" seems almost impossible, you go to a movie-house at 10:00 am buy a ticket for a 6:00 pm show-time, i mean what the big hoolaballyhoed about this movie?

Thanks to the "self righteous" politicians, church figures who sees something wrong with a work of fiction.

Its just a book by Dan Brown and the point is, the story about the holy grail being the womb of Magdalene has been around years ago, it just so happens that Dan Brown manages to put some twist and turn to the story by creating a storyline that involves a murdering Opus Die member.

Lo and behold, i remember seeing on TV a month ago, former Senator Kit Tatad, was surprised that he was an Opus Die Member, well seeing and knowing that Tatad is a member, well might as well believe everything about the Da Vinci Code, that prick is occupying one of my top 5 most hated politicians of all time.

Advice to moviegoers, Da Vinci Code isn't any different from other works of fiction, I'm sure it wont belong to the same league as the Godfather trilogy, I'm sure it wont end up as one of Tom Hank's best movies of all time either.

Haven't read the book, no plan in doing so, not that i might take offense to its plot, i mean who cares if Jesus sired a children with Magdalene, its like knowing that Micheal Jordan writes his own blog too, what i mean is, the more ordinary human being Jesus was, the more awesome it would be.

Because one thing i cant or will never relate to is to put my faith on someone who walks in a pedestal completely different than my own, if the holy grail isn't the literal holy grail but the womb of Magdalene, so be it, my faith in God and in my religion wont change.

I wont go out there and start killing everybody, that is faith is all about, its regardless of what, who and when.

Here i am utterly pissed, waiting for someone to cross my path and stare me a dirty look so i will have my fight, but knowing so that there is a God whom i owed my life to, i will try in my most utmost capability not to have that fight.

And i don't care if the bible says this and that, if the holy grail is not just a cup filled with blood, i don't care if people with different interpretations of the bible fight each other, as long as i live in peace and not indulge myself in those exchanges.

Who cares anyway?....

There i don't even understand what my blog is all about....

Weekend Safari in Africa...

2006-08-21T18:02:00.000-07:00

May 15, 2006

It's 10:00 pm, much early to go home, kinda late if you're sick of the outside world, not wanting anything but to lay on your bed, rummage with your own thoughts, sleep for 8 hours straight, get lost in a dream.

But not, if you're stuck in a bus, that smells as if some drunk vomited on the floor earlier, not if you're looking at a cockroach crawling on the window glass. Not if you just came from a mild forgettable experience or a modern day equivalent of the fall of Dunkirk.

( 3 hours earlier )

I'm sipping on an almost empty chocolate what the hell is it anyway? sorry i'm not familiar with Starbucks menu, but believe me it has a chocolate cream on top, so here i am on a cold windy night, looking at the Glorietta crowd, makes me feel i don't belong here, wish i was in Cubao for christ-sakes.

Sitting beside me are two chicks, speaking in Japanese, i figured they both been to Japan, or only the other one, then she manages to teach her friend some Nipongo ( i heard Japanese is easy to learn ), here i am speechless, yeah i must admit i am the quiet type, but in this case i was two folds quieter.

Maybe these girls wanted to get out of here, maybe i also want out of there, but hey who am i kidding, maybe I'm not interested because they seem not interested in me, maybe just maybe, but that will be a crash to my ego, anyway i don't care.

I overheard them talking on the phone, with the more Japanese fluent girl translating some in Tagalog for the other girl to hear, in the end i can only decipher 10,000 peso tip, gay old man, macho dancer, massage parlor, God damn i'm imagining serious conspiracies in here.

Things couldn't get any worse, but hey i got a free starbucks choco whatever you call this thing, clue: it tastes like chocolate, like milo, its cold, sweet you know the ones kids like to drink after school.

No offense but these two girls are interesting, they got the looks, they dress well, sexy, what else?, but still i cant help but not to think that may be up to something else, my ever playful mind kept on imagining what it is?

Well whatever it is that they do, its their free will, i have no ifs and buts about it, but the story is, why on Earth I'm doing this?

what this?

i mean this!...why meet strangers? trying to create a non existent chemistry, invent some sparks that may never happen.

Am i lonely? do i need a girlfriend pretty bad? last time i checked i was happy with a girlfriend, then long distance relationship sets in, it was over before i knew it.

Now, here i am, doing this, its like I'm always in a dating game, searching and looking for a match made in Eat Bulaga's "Heart to get".

The Three of us just sat there,with the usual question of getting to know one's self, then they told me they had an appointment in QC ( there i go again, the thought of shooting a porn movie even get inside my head ), i can see that they were pleased in detaching themselves with me.

To my surprise i felt the same way too, now i can go home or much better bump into some girl, you know just like in the movies, bump into her, in the process spilling her shopping bags on the floor, helping her, with both of you smiling on cue, well not in the movies i guess, its more of a close up commercial.

So i went home, thus the prelude to the cock roach, vomit fest bus experience.

But before that i wander more through the crowds, then a thought occurs to me, the thought of home is probably the best i have come up that day, why try hard to entertain yourself? when you're all alone, at this time of the day.

My reason is, im already out, might as well stay up late on the streets, wait for some mugger to hold me up, take my money and worse shot a bullet on my chest ( knock on wood ).

So i texted a few friends, Benz was already home, she cant go out anymore, Carla wont go out when there's a typhoon, so is Mikay ( fucking typhoon just became a convenient reason ), Kate i thought at that time is in COCO beach so i never texted her, Mitzi is as usual had this Singles for Christ thing on Saturday night. I was saving up on load so i just mis-called a few others, no reply.

So might as well go home, bad meet up with a girl who brought along a Japanese speaking friend, it could have been better, but it wasn't.

Oh before that i texted someone, she replied "where you at? do you drive?" i replied back "im at makati, yeah i do drive but i don't have a car" ...She never replied back.

And that was my cue, i better go home...

Lesson's learned? who cares if its Saturday Night, if you had no business going out, just stay put in your house.

I arrived at about 11:30 pm, i saw my brother's room still lighted up, i'm hearing the sounds of a movie being played, i checked up what he's got on the dvd player and we ended up watching this cool movie called "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang" with the beautiful Michelle Moghnahan lighting up the screen.

After that i went to my room, i slept the moment my body touches my bed, i got lost in my dream, a dream i cant tell you because i dont remember it now...

All i can recall is Zebra's, tigers, nature beyond belief, i think i have dreamed of Africa. A fucking Safari in Africa...guess my weekend is not that ruined after all...

Summer of 2006

2006-08-21T18:01:00.000-07:00

May 2, 2006

No white sand, no salty water filling in my throat, no sunburn either, no fucking two piece bikini clad women in sight, no sex on the beach at night either, damn that's the killer, no boat ride, no money that's why.

But no complaints, i've got the rest of my life to plan that ultimate getaway, until then boracay will be just a dream, just a dream, just a dream.

So what? i figured things might be worst, i'm still here, alive and well, doing great compared to last year, i still don't go to church, but i can understand now, what God envisions the world for us, we cant have everything, small steps equals to baby hops, slowly the process of growth brings more happiness than material wealth.

But i still bet on the lottery, i still want those riches, those means of clicking your fingers and you're off to a far away island, i still aspire for those powers.

While i'm at it, i had to bury myself at work, 8 hours, 5 days a week, until they fire me ( hope to God they wont ), being reminded of that, i thank the high heavens, guess another reason to be hopeful about.

The summer ain't over yet till the typhoons batters us, summer still burns us to lunacy, sleeping at your burning bed sheet, the iron hot walls, turning on the air conditioned puts much guilt or worries about the impending electricity bill.

Fuck 5 hours a night of aircon use X the increasing electricity rates, i've read that the normal aircon electricity consumption stands at 5 pesos an hour, so that makes it 25 pesos every 5 hours. Sounds cheap? but in a month that's 750 bucks.

Well enough of that, i'm not an accountant, leave the bills where they ought to be, under the door, or over the ref, somehow you're going to pay for it, that makes the reason for you to work your ass much much greater.

This summer, i had a break up with my girlfriend, it wasn't because of something, guess we both become realistic, her life is secured over there on a foreign land, Rozy will have a beautiful life, she will succeed and I'm happy for her, we're still friends, close friends, yeah i miss the times we're together.

But that is life, you move on, cherished the special things, never forget them, for those are the ones that will remind you that you had a life, guess i had a life.

I don't know, I'm clueless yet I'm secured at my own self, I'm not the former suicidal, mad hater who looks at life as if it was my worst enemy numero uno.

No not anymore, I'm loving it, summer may end without me getting close to those two piece bikini clad women I'm talking about, but guess what? i had the rainy season to look forward to.

Just like the song, i can say "I'm only happy when it rains".

And i had no choice but to be happy, regardless of seasons, being in love or not, being with someone or alone, missing someone or feeling crowded, being drunk or sober, sane and insane, fucked up and well groomed.These are just feelings, bleak moods, colors, tastes, they varies as time goes by.

Nothing lasts, even the summer of 2006.

What's up?

2006-08-21T18:00:00.000-07:00

April 29,2006

Haven't been writing on my multiply blog lately, can't find any motivation to write about something, there is none, zip, blank, love ( in tennis lingo ), zero or just plain nothingness.

In the pass even in my lowest depths, i always find something to write about and in my momentous bliss, i never ran out of things to say, or type i guess, coz i never talked that much, with a few exceptions of course ( hardcore punkmates, girlfriends and some wicked soul who happens to share my rotten points of views ).

But that doesn't mean i don't like those whom i kept mum at, no, don't get me wrong, i'm loving it, meeting new people, especially the ones ive met here in multiply ( forget friendster, bunch of snobs, hehe, you gonna message them try to be friendly and they think you're kind of a stalker...what the fig, you look like Angelina Jolie but you're not the Angelina Jolie! gets? ).

I'm starting to like my work, although i still think its not the job i really want, to be a writer still tops my list, a filmmaker, a cameraman for the National Geographic.But I'm starting to like my work because i'm feeling at ease with my workmates, hats off to them for being nice, wonderful and a whole lot more.

Plus its better to get a paycheck every 15 days compare to biting your fingernails at home, living from one salary to another is hard, sometimes i feel the money just goes through your hand, at the end of the day you wonder where the hell its been, but still things can be a lot worst.

I know, i know...don't remind me.

Just like Switzerland i find myself in a neutral corner right now, damn with the Nazi and the Fascist, lob a grenade too to the Allies, i don't know, Hitler and Ike don't mean much difference to me.

I am happy, sad, depress, on the verge of orgasm, i don't know, maybe its one of those moments when you're at the top of the world and the following seconds after that is just plain scam, unreal and shallow, just enough to grind the hiccups out of your throat...

See? i don't know what I'm talking about..okay maybe i should cease thinking about things that either way will just pissed me off, and yourself too.

So what's up?...hope you're okay...i'm out of here...

The Return of Jacobsladder

2006-08-21T17:34:00.000-07:00

April 17,2006

Come May 1 against the backdrop of street protest commemorating the working class, of course with the usual leftist encounter with anti riot police, water canons, bricks and tear gas will kiss air,blood will be spewed, broken bones and lost slippers will liter the battlefield which my gut tells me its going to be in Mendiola (again), anti government chant, clenched fist and all!. Mayhem is not the right word, but it's the first thing that comes into my mind (haha a Chuck Palahniuk influence ). What a way to celebrate the return of the true blooded punk rioteer.

My best friend and an ardent loyal hardcore punkmate through good times and decadence, Jacobsladder will make a brief holiday back in his beloved but always cursed motherland, taking a much deserved ballyhooed break from his job in far away Dubai.

I'm already looking forward to it, road-trip to some hidden town in far away Bulacan ( he told me we're going to visit his girlfriend there ), or off to his hometown of Marinduque, doing just about anything else that comes into our mind, threading along Quiapo and Divisoria wont be a problem.Or eating out at every cheap food stalls which we calls M&M's ( Mura na Marumi pa ), or maybe just sitting around in one corner staring at the chicks wondering why the hell they wont go out with the likes of us.

First it was Don who came home last December, now its Jakob's turn, although I'm hearing reports straight from Malaysia that Don is contemplating resignation? ( needs further verification ) I'm still not sure about Jakob's plan, but it would be a good idea for him to finish his contract there which will last till Feb 2007.

I can manage being alone here, planning and executing the activities of Hardcore Punkmates, well we're getting things done, next year we'll probably push through with the assassinations of some greedy politicians.

Till then i'm looking forward to the arrival of my friend Jakob, it will be one riotous punk session, i can sense it already.

Hey Ho Lets Go...

I only dance to the guns of brixton by the clash

2006-04-04T01:57:00.000-07:00

"You can crush us
You can bruise us
But you'll have to answer to
Oh-the guns of Brixton" - Guns of Brixton by The Clash

DJ Tiesto what's his name, a gun in my head, my last day on earth, even Uma Thurman and me trapped in John Travolta's body in Pulp Fiction, i can say you wont make me dance. But put on The Clash CD with Guns of Brixton playing, i can find myself dancing like its saturday night.

Everything is perfect, the beat, drums, vocals, harmony and the lyrics, oh yeah its a party like nothing else, with a bottle of beer in one hand, i stomped on my bedroom floor, jump up and down from my bed, rock, hop and skate like I'm finally getting my due, oh yes cut the crap too..

Its freedom, what music can do to your life.

It basically energize my everyday mundane existence, nothing beats than a classic band that inspires a hundred wannabe bands.

LONDON CALLING !!!...who would forget that punk yell huh?.

A 9/11 Conspiracy

2006-04-02T00:32:00.000-08:00

9/11 conspiracy talks are spreading like wildfire
nowadays, thanks to a radio interview with the
most unexpected conspiracy theorist, yes Charlie
Sheen's comments on Alex Jones radio show last week.

Surprisingly CNN made a report on that on its
Showbiz Tonight episode, they conducted a poll
that ended up having over 80% of the respondents
agreeing with Sheen's comments.

A big part of Sheen's theory lies on the WTC Tower
7 on which he stated

"which wasn't hit by a plane, to become only the
third steel building in history to collapse from
fire damage (the other two being the twin towers).
Photographs taken prior to the building's collapse
show minor fires before it falls in a textbook
demolition fashion.

"If there's a problem with Building 7 then there's
a problem with the whole damn thing and guess
what? There's a serious problem with Building 7,"
said Sheen.

Which brings into a question of a possible
controlled demolition?

Okay given Sheen's past addiction to drugs and
hooker ( remember Heidi Fleiss the hollywood madam
) lets say all of these are nothing but hollywood
make believe conspiracies.

But after CNN ran a report on Sheen's comments and
other conspiracy theorist, PrisonPlanet.com's Alex
Jones complained of a "mainstream media blackout"
on the Sheen interview., mysteriously, pressures
from unknown power made a number of major
publications and news channels to ban the story,
hell google was found earlier this week to be
blocking any links that has anything to do with
Sheen's comments. ( google has now unblocked all
links ).

Reports have been published in the past about the
White House telling the San Francisco mayor not to
take a flight to New York a day before 9/11, Even
novelist Salman Rushdie has been given the same
warning according to the London Times.

Well maybe there is a reason why the 9/11
committee was created a year after the tragedy,
what are they hiding?

Some points that the 9/11 committee report have
failed to explain according to Prisonplanet.com's
interview with Sheen.

-How the plane basically disappeared into the
Pentagon with next to no wreckage and no
indication of what happened to the wing sections.

-Concerning how the Bush administration had
finalized Afghanistan war plans two days before
9/11 with the massing of 44,000 US troops and
18,000 British troops in Tajikistan and
Uzbekistan, and in addition the call for "some
catastrophic and catalyzing event - like a new
Pearl Harbor.

-The Pentagon camera images that surprisingly
doesn't show the plane, just the explosion
afterwards, with the missing so called gas station
camera and the Department of Transportation
freeway cam.

-The question of how Bush saw the first plane hit
the north tower, when no live footage of that
incident was carried, an assertion that Bush
repeated twice, was also put under the spotlight.

-Of course the precision like collapse of the two
WTC towers.

Believe it or not, just like what others are
saying, these are some valid points that needs
explanation, dismissing Sheen's comments based
purely on his troubled past is not the right
course of action, the more the White House and
others shy away from this accusation the more
people will think of grand conspiracy to cover up
what really happened on 9/11/2001.

I think Micheal Moore needs a sequel...

Rumble in the Jungle Redux

2006-03-27T20:07:00.000-08:00

I was somewhere in the middle of this jungle i call Manila, its a place where all people from all walks of life crossed each other's path, day in and night out.

Not giving a damn if one of them got robbed in broad daylight, walking among hundreds of heads turned back against me, in such a slow pace enough to pissed the hurrying self in me.

I dont know how much more i can take it, i just hate crowded places, what can i do? my country have more than 80 million inhabitants, Manila alone is packing in 12 million at least.

You cant find a cheap restaurant where you can just walk in and take your food, mostly you need to line up for everything, at the trains, at the fastfood counter, lined for public transportation, even the fucking public urinals, you had to count 1-60 until the person in front of you got done with pissing.

Life is like taking a piss, you're relieved while you're doing it but afterwards you feel you're just going with the flow of your piss out of your dick and unto a fucking urinal.

Well that's how i see it according to my own point of view, i cant speak for all of you or that homeless guy in the corner who by some freak reason is smiling sheepishly.

I wonder what he's so happy about, maybe the absence of worries and that false hopes of having a dream, that great fucking dream, yeah the thing that consumes us most of our life.

Well enough about dreams, lets go back to the real life, so here i am on the jungle i call Manila, oops i think i said that already, so lets jump 5 dropsteps from here.

So here i am with the seemingly endless swindle, the torrents of frustrations as they loom larger, boredom that kills you like a psycho skinning you alive bits by bits.

I wanted to scream, curse the high heavens, take the most violent drug out there, I yearn for heroin mixed with pineapple juice or a sackfull of marijuana.

Only I hate drugs its out of my head the moment it present itself as an option, so what's left for me to decide on?

Wait a minute, why am i asking you all of these? you're a shiny happy person, damn right i can see it in your smile, it is me whose having this, lets say mild affliction of rottingness, okay lets just drop the mild one, who knows the difference between mild and an advanced stage of cancer huh?

Both needs chemotheraphy, i dont need chemotherapy, all i had to do to go bald is to visit the neighborhood barber whose knowledge of haircut is limited to crew cut, undercut, barbers cut, hell they dont even knew how to cut a mohawk, i had to go to a beauty salon to get that.

Well now the jungle causes cancer, it keeps on getting worse, i need a beer, just to get this hiccups out of my system.

Fuck, the jungle causes cancer and a hiccup, i better stop now before the dreaded ebola virus tags along.

So here i am walking along streets of rubbish and towering skyscrapers, here and there are reminders of progress, but look closer like you would examine a cheese sandwich upon seeing a fly engulf between, look closer and you will see the forgotten ones.

Who? i dont know, same as you i have forgotten them also.

I live in my own world, but i exist with millions of others, we are put in one place, some manages to escape to a faraway land, most like me ends up waiting for our turn.

Would i escape this beautiful prison? i call it as such just to keep my hopes alive, in case i dont get my chance, i will comfort myself knowing or make believing that i stayed all of my life in a place so beautiful.

Fool myself, huh?...

Anyway here i am writing another downer blog, cant find anything much to concentrate on, guess i need a drug after all, one that has the power and chemical combinations to put me out for good.

Pissing everyone one gib at a time

2006-03-15T16:47:00.000-08:00

I'm a bad person, master of mischief and mayhem, not to be trusted with an important matter, if something goes terribly wrong that you suspect a sabotage, point a finger at me, chances are you got the right person.

But i'm still miles away from my idol Tyler Durden, i have yet to join a group crazier than the project mayhem people, most people i know are peace-loving law abiding citizens, its not that i want to break the law, no that's not it, no killings please, no drugs please, no stealing please.

All i want is to participate in some acts of defiance, one way of saying "fuck you" to the world without producing a monster traffic jam like those leftist militants does day in and night out.

I want small scale battle to piss people off, not to the extent of killing them or testing their cool, just enough but barely swaying away their good aura for the day.

So today's mischief would be, sending phony Dog's for sale advertisements on my female yahoo messenger buddies, that goes like this "Hi I'm selling different breeds of Dogs at a very reasonable price, with full vaccines, cute puppies that are longing for a loving owner, see pics at www.dogfart.com".

Seems harmless right? but not if you click on the URL that i gave, so please i'm telling you right now, do not click it, because it contains violent graphic porn you can only imagine.

Most of them got pissed of course, swearing to block any future YM messages from me in the future, although i only sent it through those i dont really know, of course i never sent that ad to my friends, online buddies and of course workmates and the HR department.

I'm bad am i?

That's not the only mischief i did today, you see friendster and multiply is blocked at the office, so once in a while i had to use the internet on some obscure Internet Cafe, right now i'm here at this shop at Monumento, just beside a sex toy store.

When i was about to log in on my friendster, i wasn't able to log in because it went directly to the home page of the previous user who was dumb enough not to log out on his account.

Okay, so here i was with complete access to this guy's friendster account, he's got the hip-hop poses and badass looks on his picture that would put Snoop Dog to shame ( which didn't help coz i consider hip-hops as alien ), and ghetto look, he's got a profile that says "ghetto,thugs,in the hood" those kind of thing.

So what did i do? a wonderful mischief idea comes to my mind, i completely edited his profile to this one.

Profile: i am gay, you're right i am a proud one, just like Rustom Padilla I'm out at last, i like to party from night till dawn, i consider Bambi Fuentes and Tim Yap as my biggest heroes, i like superheroes only if its wonderwoman,catwoman and Clark Kent. I smoke Marlboro lights or Capri, i enjoy acting on musicals, the trait that I'm very proud of is I'm an outgoing person, gullible, gay ( did i just said that?), cheerful and most of all I'm very Kalog to the max....ayyyyy chaka na ito chuvanezzzz.

Interest: i like watching musicals, fashion tV, i loved to draw and organize events...

Movies; brokeback mountain, crying game, to wong foo from julie:thanks for everything, pusong mamon, ang pagdadalaga ni maximo O. and happy together ( also all Eric Quizon movies and from hereon Rustom Padilla movies )

Occupation: call center representative (outbound) / events organizerCompany: etelecare.....

So there it is, his new profile, all of a sudden the tough looking hip-hop is now a Tim Yap wannabe homosexual.

Damn i can only imagine how pissed this guy would be when some of his friends would text him with messages of support like "dont worry sis, I'm still you're friend, I'm proud of you coming out like that" or "fuck you man, I'm not gonna go out with you again, you fag".

I bet some of them will do, because i also posted a bulletin board announcement in his behalf that says "i'm finally out like Rustom"I feel like the baddest person right now, but at the same time I'm laughing at what i did.

Mischief and Mayhem = Me.

Viva PORN-ification...

2006-03-07T01:20:00.000-08:00

Everytime i would get off at LRT Monumento, there would be this group of people waiting at the stairs, as if they were limo drivers fetching you from the airport.

Its just that there is no limousine, they dont wear a tuxedo, all they want is for you to buy what their selling which is surprise surprise "Porn DVD's".

Not that i dont buy those stuff, but they are pegging it at 180.00, hell i told one of them i can get one in Quiapo at 90.00 pesos only, they still wouldn't stop, one of them even followed me while i was already flagging down a jeepney.

I looked around, they dont really follow people that much further from where they are standing initially, i wonder why me?

Do i wear a sign on my neck that says "Pervert"? or "Porn Collector"?

So one time i went inside the mall where most of them are holed up, this is right beside Gotesco Grand Central, adjacent to the Monumento Station, on the fourth floor is the SOGO Hotel, there is an entrance connecting the mall to it, on the third floor is a mini food court complete with a Bon Jovi clone band.

On the second floor are various DVD, cell phone stalls and internet shops, plus one sex toy store, yeah the one where they sell vibrators,dildo and God knows what else, i never bother to ask or look around aside from what is displayed on the window.

Hell, we're really being Porn-ificated, no wonder rapes and sexual abuse are all over the TV news.

So i went inside without an intention of buying Porns, i went there to buy a globe autoload, and to check out some pirated cd's, that's when i first saw the porn DVD's, they were hidden behind a shelf that displays ordinary wholesome titles such as "50 first dates", "King Kong' and the likes.

But what disturbs me are the people flipping on the titles, high schoolers, yes young ones at the age of probably 16 or 17 max and here they are becoming an instant porn collector.

Which got me thinking about the first time i encountered a pornographic material.

( flashback sequence )

One day during my 6th grade, i was looking for a notebook at the bookshelf of my father's room, when i notice a white plastic, i got curious on its content, i take a look inside, and "lo and behold that thought young man", i saw dozens of pornographi materials, filled with pictures, hell i dont even see any texts, just pictures galore of naked bodies.

I noticed that the settings and the clothes of the models ( well before they took it off ) was from the 70's, i remember getting all of it and hiding it in my room.

I'm sure it was from my parents, hell i dont wanna think about it, i just put took it and kept it.

The following day i took some of it to class, i showed my classmates one by one, they took turns, there were others who were not amused, some would say "that's nothing compared to my father's taboo series collection" i was like what does taboo means ( that was years before i would see taboo 1 to 15 ).

Others would be dumbfounded, in particular Samuel, i remember him froze for a minute, his hands trembling, f*ck i told myself, what if he ended up as a rapist?, i would be directly responsible.

Days later i would bring the rest of the magazine at school, one of us come up with an idea to tear the pages one by one and insert it on the books in the library.

Well we find his idea a great one, right up there with the Wright Brothers, in that way we will help contribute to the sexual revolution just in time for our puberty years ( sexual revolution that never came, or is it just i never experienced it? )

We smuggled it inside the library, tore some of the pages and inserted it on such books as "Weaving 101", "Healthy Homecooked Meals", and a Mike Tyson autobiography, we targeted books that the girl's Home economics class will tend to borrow.

I never knew how many students actually borrowed the books with the inserted Poronographic material.

I'm not sure either how many innocent minds we had corrupted at that time, if you ask me if i regret that? yes ma'am i do regret it.

As far as i can remember after that my outlook in life changed forever, because i was there looking at those pictures of people having fun, enjoying what their doing, i kind of believe that sex provides nothing but fun and pleasure.

So i ended up wasting my adolescent years trying to get laid ( with no success ), at the same time i became shy and aloof, having a girlfriend for me at that time means having a stable sexual partner.

In a way Pornography screwed with my mind, taken a toll on me and probably scarred me for life.

So while i was there at Monumento seeing these kids buying porn stuffs, i cant help but to think, their going to ruin it for themselves, they will end up rushing things and in doing so most of them would get their girlfriends pregnant in no time at all.

Well what can i do, when i myself helped in the Pornification in our society by bringing those magazine at school and inserting it on the books in the library.

I'm not gonna be a saint and tell you that i had backtracked 360 degrees since then, i still watch porn, hell im at the right age already, 2 or 3 years ago i have like 300 hundred VCD's of porn, which i gave away to Jacobsladder a few months before my mom would come home from the states.

There aren't a lot of thing i wished i never did, but i wished i never found those porn in the cabinet of my father's room, i wished he never put it there in the first place, well i cant blame him, kids like me had no business looking at their stuff in the first place.

Same way with the kids here at Monumento, they had no business checking out those kinky titles, because? its much better to learn sex the right and proper way, those things will come, rite of passage from being a boy to a man.

I did lost my virginity years later, i finally got my wish, but somehow i felt i lost my innocence already even before i got myself naked next to a girl, i lost my virginity when i saw those Porn in my father's cabinet.

Something i wish to take back, but i cant.

Truth is !!! Everyday our youth are being corrupted and worst nobody seems to give a damn, the elders like us are doing nothing, hell a young boy can have access to a tabloid that shows naked women and prints sex stories.

They are all sitting ducks just waiting for those annoying men who goes nonchalantly whispering "BOSS BOLD DVD, BOSS BOLD DVD".

Punk Life part 1

2006-03-03T17:52:00.000-08:00

During workdays i set my alarm clock at 3:30 am, the sound of which i now came into an acceptance like a voice of a beautiful woman waking me up for one more round of lovemaking.

In a sense that i anticipate it, mostly i would be awake by 3:25 a.m. waiting for the alarm to echo in my ears, staring at my window, just by studying the amount of light i can now tell if its a full moon, half moon,Waning Gibbous,Waning Crescent or a Waxing Gibbous moon out there.

I would stretch my arm and leg, say my usual "Good Morning" to the imaginary beautiful girl beside me, once that alarm starts hitting the airwaves I'm up and shutting it down, i would go down the stairs like a drunk who is lost in the wilderness trying to find his way home.

Most of the time i would half expect a white lady sitting on the dining table once i turn the lights on, or some figure staring in the window, outside looking in, probably i've read too much ghost stories.

4:30 am and I'm on the side road flagging a jeepney to Monumento, most of the time a caravan of 12 wheeler trucks would passed by me, which would leave me covered with dust.

Until a jeepney bound for Recto or Sta Cruz would stop by, mostly i would be the first passenger in, then as the jeep plowed through the empty road driven by a lunatic driver one by one it will be filled by all sorts of people.

There would be ones carrying big baskets to sell probably in Divisoria, construction workers who in their hurry had forgotten to take a bath, drunk men who just came from the various pubs along MacArthur Hi-way.

But my favorite co passengers are the GRO's, at 4:30 or a quarter to 5:00, the time is right for them to go home after a night of drinking ladies drink entertaining lonely souls, exchanging stories and answering to those mindless questions such as the never ending "how old are you" and their almost automatic response of "18 years old".

Just look at it, every GRO is 18 years old, regardless if they look like a bit of a 15 year old teenybopper, even those top of the hill senior GRO's sometimes passes themselves as 22 year olds.

Think Keana Reeves when she tries to tell everyone she was 23 years old ( even if she looks like 38 ) she then manages to negotiate an age for herself by admitting she's already 30.

So as these fine looking ( i don't know maybe its the lighting effects or I'm still half asleep ) 18 year old GRO's come climbing the jeepney with their tight blouse, legs and cleavage all hanging loose, i usually find myself feeling wide awake.

Like caffeine in my bloodstream, the sight of such injects me with renewed passion about the day ahead, a day i started cursing when i woke up, a day i predicted the night before as a mere repetition of the day before.

Whenever these GRO's took the rides with me i can notice an additional 15kph on the speed, all of a sudden the sleeping Construction worker is alive and bursting with energy as if he's all pump up and ready to carry 5 cement bags at the same time, these GRO's are a welcome source of energy indeed.

I asked myself should i get my tab?, one of them actually told me to go visit their place "please come at 'las vegas' if you had the time". No, not Las Vegas in Nevada, its a Pub by the bridge that crosses the Meycauayan River.

Well i did thought about coming, but its kinda Nicholas Cage ala Leaving Las Vegas if i did, i figured i had to drink a gallon of alcohol, tell sad stories, fall in love with a GRO, and then die a miserable death in an empty motel room.

Not a bad way to go, if you ask me, i don't know maybe one of these days i'll give it a try.

So as i rode the jeepney, the wind gushing my face and messing up my hair, the rust on the seats getting on my shirt, one time i smell a farting smell only to see some dog shit on the sole of my shoes.

Its the kind of life i have, sometimes i like it like a mountaineer trapped in the wilderness without food and water but somehow he gets the notion that its adventure all along.

Mine isn't that kind of adventure, its lonely, depressing at most state of varying debris, un-mistakenly shallow here and there, nevertheless it ain't worse than most people have.

Like with the GRO's, most of us look at them as a mere figures of entertainment, someone who would listen to our most pathetic sob stories over bottles of ladies drink, but unknowingly they also have souls trapped in those "18 year old" bodies, they have dreams also, like us they are trying to survive, how on Earth they ended up in that trade? only the God's up there knows.

Everyday i walk among different people from all walks of life, their faces tell a thousand stories i might be able to imagine one just by looking at the cracks, the edges, the lines that represent years or even decades of existence.

So what am i in all of these? i guess I'm just one in a billion of the Earthwalkers who mind their own business, not knowing where to go, but just going with the tides of time, fate and luck.

Bringing us together with the unknowns, the mysteries and strangers we don't know but whose stories, legends, fables even nursery rhymes, we must admit we find interesting but falling short of reaching out to learn more about.

I wonder when this cycle would stop? on my deathbed perhaps? on the crime scene when the CSI investigators have drawn a chalk line around my body? when my body is ripped apart by a powerful bomb? or freak of nature buried me together with thousands other?

Perhaps i will never knew, until then the unknown is still a destination i had to go through each day, i will continue cursing my wake up time, drag myself to work, try to put on that happy face, pretend that i have a life, because guess what i do have a life! surprise surprise.

Same like the others...Just like you...

My experiences with celebrities, pop icons and supermodel of the universe.

2006-03-01T03:59:00.000-08:00

The last place i expected to be inches away from a celebrity is in a fucking mall CR, usually its about 200 meters away as if fate knew i had a penchant for stalking, so the God's up there always made it a point to put me a safe distance away.

I remember seeing Alice Dixon while im standing on an escalator, there she is hot as ever, the "fairy" i grew up watching on TV, a few years after she became Dyesebel, chewing on a plate of expensive dish at Shangrila Mall, slowly her figure becomes smaller as i reached the far end of the escalator.

In UST i used to bump with Beth Tamayo and Bunny Paras ( yeah the girl whom that assswipe Mo Twister has gotten pregnant ), i was walking one time and lo and behold as i looked aroudn there she was Bunny Paras stalking me, without even looking at me, so the stalker becomes the hunted, i ended up following her 300 yards, i lost sense of time, forgot that i had a class to catch.

When i was a lot younger i saw Tina Paner at Baclaran Church, Keno at Shoemart in Makati ( yeah Lunch Date years ), who else?, i once met a girl in Divisoria, we took the same FX to Cubao, ended up talking to her, i asked her if i could accompany her wherever she was going.

She said sure why not, we ended up somewhere in Santolan Pasig, told me she has a boyfriend and she would introduce me, she went inside the house asked her mom if Bamboo was there, she came back telling me too bad Bamboo aint home.

I asked her Bamboo the river maya frontman? "yeah Bamboo the river maya frontman", i said "well i thought he was in the States?", she said "he's right here, and planning to make a comeback album" that was i think 1999.

Up to this day i dont know if that was true, for all i know her boyfriend might be some junky drug peddler who happens to answer with the name Bamboo, anyway that's the closest i can be with a Rockstar.

Oh i saw Papa Dom once in xymaca, Kevin Roy of Razorback stood at my back while we're waiting for our own turn in the comfort room of 77 in hemady.

I once talked on the phone with Mariel Deeney ( goes by the name Mariel Lopez in showbiz ), damn i still remember that time, i met her on friendster ( check out the testi she made for me ), never got to meet her in person, but we texted briefly and of course talked with her one time, which didn't turn out well, damn girl is speaking straight english, i think a cat bit my tongue.

We almost met, i invited her to watch "Passion of the Christ", i waited for our meeting time which is 7:00pm, only to hear that she aint gonna make it because of other reason, well at that moment i felt my heart exploded.

So what else? let me think think some more.I saw Marjorie Barreto on one of the rallies prior to Edsa II, damn how lucky Dennis Padilla could get man.

I think that's it. oh until recently

So there i am minding my own piss, and there he is, fucking lord of the cinema, the great comedian, a pop icon indeed, Kiko Machine should be making songs about him.

I cant help it but stole a look, in awe i feel my jaw dropping, should i get a pen and paper and ask for his autograph?Fuck i dont have any pen, much more a piece of paper, "Oh toilet paper will do" pen, i'll borrow on the Maintenance crew, i saw one of them jotting down the checklist of the CR earlier when i came in.

Then the "im not worthy to be in your presence" celebrity said somthing in a voice fit for epic movies.He said "tinitingnan mo ba etits ko?".

I was like "hindi po", he then smiled "loko lang yan lng kasi ang malaki sa akin" and then he went off with a laugh.

Fucking Palito never lost his sense of humor even when pissing with total strangers in a CR of Robinsons Place.

Then i studied him, i knew he used to play lots of "dead man" characters, the ones you see lying inside a coffin, supposed to be dead already, then after a few moments would rise up and cause utmost pandemonium and the frame will be played in fast forward motion to create that "Kengkoy" effect.

There he was a pop icon of Philippine cinema, cant even afford a decent backpack, carrying his things in a plastic bag, and i bet those aint shopping bags from Rustans.

I saw him walk away, still smiling to people who would nod at him in recognition, he may not end up rich like Dolphy, but i guess he earned my admiration.Here's to you Palito....

I wish i could have asked for your autograph.

20 something Punk looking for a rebound...must love dogs,cats and crocodiles

2006-02-28T01:43:00.000-08:00

There was a scene in the movie "Carlitos Way" where Al Pacino's character is implying that "violence has a way of pulling him back" no matter how much he steer himself away from it, that scene remains in my mind not only the way Pacino acted on that one, you know with two hands motioning "pulling you back" its perfect for me.

But also the message it conveys to me, not in particularly with violence, i guess its this maddening f*cked up circum navigation ( i just invented that word ) cycle of sadness, loneliness, depression and madness all rolled into one, i thought i was cured, relieved, freed from it, but guess what? I'm staring at that shit-hole once again.

But no offense, i really missed it, part of me thinks that I'm faking it all when i found myself happy, i used to think that this isn't me, of course it is me, I'm the only one staring in the mirror, seeing that figure put on a grin.

But really no regrets, the last 7 or 8 months has been great, full of inspiration and joy, plus love in the most sincere way.

I guess distance is a curse at the same time, i only hope for the better for the other person, out there whom i missed, but funny i never manages to show her the right way.

Funny how i seem to mess things up, although i never thought about sailing other rivers or scaling nearby mountains, i am guilty of existing like i don't exist at all.

And now its all over, one of the happiest part of my life, put to an end, but hey possibilities are boundless, we're still friends, that's the best part of it.

Throughout the failed experiment in Long distance relationship ( call it whatever you like ) i was there but never there, i question myself if i can ever be made up for such things, answers i still don't know, whatever the case i feel a lot wiser now, from the things i've gone through last year, the ups and downs like a roller coaster.

And mostly i met a person who had changed me, although i am looking at myself right now, wanting to move on, feeling that weird feeling again of being sick and unwanted.

I guess a great part of my life has just happened, the last 7 or 8 month has been perfect, i have known a soul so kind, i don't even know if i deserve her in the first place.

Life goes on so are its possibilities, I'm back to being a punk, but part of me will remain with her forever.

So believe when i say I'm gonna be alright, do not worry about me, you've done enough, I'm proud of you, concentrate on your studies there, i miss you that's all.

You will be my beyboooh forever....i'll see you in December, you better be still single at that time hehe...so am i....

sidewalks of monumento

2006-02-18T15:29:00.000-08:00

Walking through Monumento every morning going to work, trying to catch the first LRT train that departs at exactly 5:15 a.m. i feel like i'm in a movie about a nearing apocalypse and zombies out on a prowl.

There are people sleeping on the sidewalks, garbage accumulated the previous day are scattered on the road waiting for the early morning garbage men, GRO's in skimpy outfits on the side road waiting for a ride, early commuters like me, the occasional mugger still trying to take advantage of the dark, waiting for a victim.

In fairness there are cops visible, so i'm not really worried about thieves, but who knows? they are becoming more daring nowadays, just have to walk in a solid face, avoid dark alleyways, got to be sure where you're going, you end up looking like a lost boy and you're a goner.

Never asked for directions, that's my way of thinking especially on places you're not familiar with, if you had no other choice, choose among the people around you, the friendly cop who looks a bit more honest than our politicians or that hardworking man sweeping cigarette butts.

But this is Monumento, i know this place like the palm of my hands, i passed by this place a thousand times, knows that the crowd here aint the same one you will found in lets say Greenbelt, it differs by light years.

Andres Bonifacio Monument remains as the symbol for our forgotten history, come to think of it, i know that its there, but i haven't really stared at it, never took the time to think about what it stood for.

Everyday i had to pass this place, like Cubao this is a place that connects a lot of us, its where the LRT meets both ways, Edsa eventually starts here, so is McArthur hi-way, the face of the ordinary Filipino people is clearly in display around here.

So as i walked every morning with the littered streets, stench of urine, homeless people dozing off in front of business establishments yet to open for the day, vendors setting up their stalls, working class people like me getting ready to go to work, cops and yes even muggers too, there is no such thing as too early, life can move very fast, and quickly we have to move.

Echoes of the Ramones singing "hey ho lets go" rings in my ear.

A Simple but Punk Introduction

2006-02-12T19:43:00.000-08:00

Its only proper to introduce myself, well what do you want to know? i figured nothing, either way i'm not going to point a gun in your head to read my blog senselessly, its boredom i guess, trying to write whatever in my head, mostly random nothingness, sometimes if i get lucky i'll be able to write something profound or interesting, but to what extent? i dont know probably its not at all interesting, like what i'm doing now, well enough of that.

I am a self confessed punk without the mohawk ( although i did sport that hair do twice in my 27 years of existence ), i dont wear leather jackets and 16 hole boots, you cant find any patches on my clothes either, nor am i looking for a riot, but i do listen to the clash,ramones,rancid and dead kennedys.

My favorite films are Taxi Driver ( think DeNiro with a mohawk talking to himself on the mirror "you're talking to me?"),SLC Punk, Trainspotting,FightClub ( yeah yeah the rules of fight club ), 21 Grams,Memento,Salton Sea to name a few.You should check my collection of pirated dvd's.

What more do you wanna know? hmmm okay i do have a job, been at it for 5 months now, before that i was unemployed for almost a year,so yeah i know the feeling of living on dole outs, mostly from my mom, you get this feeling of being a boarder in your own house that doesn't pay his monthly rentals, anyway im glad that is over with.

So i go to my job every morning, like very early, i wake up around 4 a.m., i take the LRT back and forth from work, crowded rush hour is like a ham on a sandwich for me, everyday i try to sucked precious oxygen amidst all those weary bodies.

Work for me is like work for everybody else, it isnt something to look forward to except maybe every 15 days, i try to burn those 8 hours at work without a fuss which means staying quiet and un involved with the usual office politics.

It sucks that even at work people need to envy each other, talk behind other people's back, i mean for what? mediocre if you ask me, although i try hard not to let me passed judgement on them, i try to go with the flow the best way i can, which is to shut my mouth off, try hard not to make enemies, and im not making friends either.

I'm not a very friendly person, im not one of those souls wherein you put them in a long queue, and after an hour they already befriended the person standing next in line with them, even if you chanced upon me on a trapped elevator for hours, i wont bother asking what time it is?

Unless of course you're a hot girl taking her clothes bit by bit, seducing me to relived Aerosmith's "love in an elevator". Alright im daydreaming again, sometimes i think Life is fiction and fiction is life.

I'm a big fiction fan, i love reading books, Jack Kerouac's "on the road", Truman Capote's "in cold blood" were among my favorite, i find Hunter S.Thompson's works as hilarious,Neil Gaiman, Chuck Palahniuk,Douglas Coupland,Albert Camus and almost everyday i discover talented writers from the past to the present.But i think i shall pass on Dan Brown.

I do have an online journal before this one, i've written a hundred gramatically flawed entries on my other page, in case you're over your wits end here's the link :

http://www.markyramone.multiply.com

Alright i think i have divulged enough of myself, i feel like a man whore already, like a politician, which reminds me if i should hate myself, but no, no, im not after your vote, and serving or stealing isnt my cup of tea.

But im not a saint either, im just like you, a sinner trying to be a saint, i had my own demons, wrong doings, bad judgement and other shortcomings.

In the coming days i will write whatever it pleases me, i find writing as a form of therapy, because living in a world like ours is a neverending cycle of frustrations, if you dont come up with a better alternative or an outlet, you'll end up in an asylum.