In Search of Youth

What would it entail to bring back one's youth?
What would you do to have your man back with you?

One has to watch the movie to witness personally how people can turn a blind eye to the ethics of life just to get back what they once had.

Underneath the gross storyline, I think what this movie is trying to portray is how women tend to allow society and men to define their beauty and their womanhood. This submission to public eye brings forth power to dominate other aspects...especially those who are most powerless - unborn children.

A word of advice: this movie is not for the weak...most particularly, straw-clad intestines.

Me Talk Pretty One Day

Yesterday, I discovered what David Sedaris looked like. While reading Me Talk Pretty One Day, I made mental notes again and again to research about David Sedaris. My breezy brain blew off my mental sticky memo Notes. I should've bought 3M instead of those cheap cutesy ones.

He does not look anywhere close than what I have imagined him to be. He looks the type of person who you would to confide in, and not find out about it 3 years down the road. However, with his sarcastic humor, one will find Sedaris' book highly engrossing and entertaining. Even I wouldn't mind disclosing dark secrets to him to have it exaggerated in his next literary masterpiece.

Needless to say, I can't wait to get a copy each of Naked and of Corduroy.

Be The Light

Recently I started painting. Nothing fancy. Just "paintful" versions of doodles or scribbles.

My canvas? My bedroom walls.

Each work depicts confusion, anger, the need to break free, the need for direction, the need for approval.

Since I was kid, I was never allowed to do within the reams of my parents' common sense and practicality. "You don't have any talent in drawing, just solve your math problems." "Photography is too expensive a hobby, and besides that's not your talent."

Parents know best. Moms know best.

Is there a Bantay Bata for emotional regression? Sure there's no school for parenting. Is there a school for living, for breaking free?

My shell. My hardened shell. Lava and snow had solidified my soul. My mind's too tired. I'm on autopilot now. Autopilot to self-sabotage. Now I understand what they meant when they say easier to give up, to conspire with the devil in you. Now I understand what they meant when they say it takes courage to stand back up, to see the light, to embrace the light then to be the light.

The Dearly Departing...

Every day I think of something new and fascinating and I make a mental note to blog about it as soon as I plop myself in front of a computer oozing with internet power. That computer would be any computer at the office. However by the time I get there, always, always I have things to do, emails to send and answer, that the ideas float away. Lost in a mere historical mental note.

At this rate, I'm afraid before I'm 40, most of my brain cells, particularly the memory storage cells, had already died, and no amount of medication will give them the chance to rise from their grave.

Come Rescue Me

Now I understand why I got my award.

Tonight I got into a nasty discussion with my mom. She claimed why after a year of working for Confucius Institute I was only able to scrimp a few thousands. She hypothesized what if she is not earning a living, where will we leave, how will pay for her medical bills.

Tonight I never felt so worthless, so shitty, so guilty, so dirty...

Tonight I felt I want to throw up, to throw myself out.

Tonight I felt I'm not a human being.

My girlfriend tried her best to remind me how much of a gift I am. I have difficulty accepting it.

Now I understand why I got my award.

Now I understand why I have these results, why my life is like this.

I am scared. So scared of life. Because of that belief system that my mom had brought upon me. Life is scary if I don't have enough money. The future is scary. I cease to be worthwhile without money. That has been my dominant belief system. A very destructive one. So much so I can accept whatever shitty job that comes my way and I'll accept it. Just so I have income. Just so I can give her money. I am a

I am a gift to lots of people. I am heaven-sent to lots of people. Everyone except my mom. My award is there to remind me that however worthless I feel before my mom. I am still a gift, whether she sees it or not, whether she acknowledges it or not.

I just wish she'll see I'm still a child inside.

I hate taking my pictures lately. I hate seeing my eyes. Eyes never lie. They deliver you to either Heaven, Hell or Purgatory, depends on what state your soul is right now. You can guess where my soul is sweating in right now.

I feel so repulsive of myself that I cannot force myself to shift, to feel happy, to love others. I feel guilty more that my girlfriend just continues to be there to love me. I feel stupid with the false choices I've been making today. A life coach should know better, right? I feel guilty. I hope I have loved them enough before. Coz right now I'm beyond vulnerability. I'm beyond that. My emotions are kissing the depths of a vacuum. My mind becoming more insanely dictatorial.

It hurts. My mind hurts. It hurts. My mom's words hurt. It hurts. My heart just pounds against clasped walls, bound by chains of thorn, digging in deep, slicing at every beat. It hurts. My whole silent scream hurt.

I wish I can blow this feeling away. This is unhealthy. No, this is inhumane. I'm slowly being butchered to a fine cut fit for a queen. Swines did not want to die; however, someone deemed they should. Filthy swines rolling around in mud, squealing, growing pound by pound, giving birth to more swines, lying around oblivious to the negation the universe had fated on them. Then one day, the hand that fed them deemed it's time. Swines.

They're better off.

The Guardian

With me just finishing coaching and CI's Director's Report, currently I finally have time to continue my a-book-a-month habit. Right now, I'm so into The Guardian (momentarily putting aside the more serious The Power of Now). Would you believe I only got it P40 in a booksale at St. Francis Square?

The story starts with a slowly unfolding case: about an angel named Tabris who killed the charge he had sworn to take care. He is eventually assigned to co-guard another human being despite the devil's plea to own him plus the clear discontent of most of the angels. Eventually, he found out that his new charge is supposed to be the future wife of his charge. Beyond this revelation of God's amazing decision, he learns to let go and forgive and love himself again as He had long done to him by giving him another chance in angelic life.

It's evident from the start why I was attracted to this book. I've lots to learn as Tabris. I can relate with his void, with his questions, with his desire to control the future, to always create a safety net, to be rigidly vigilant, to constantly fight away guilt's maggots from eating me alive.

I'm barely done with the book. Already I can't wait to finish it with one sitting.

Given the things that had been happening, I do wonder, do Guardian Angels really exist one per person, or with all the misfortunes plus the exponential population boom, is it a manifestation of a shortage of angels?

It's a very nice and light read. Interesting. I wonder why it's so much devalued. It's even a movie-material.

Questions for the World

Multi-tasking didn't end when I graduated college. Listening to TV while e-mailing about work and texting my girl. I just find it superficial when a girl cheats on his boyfriend back home, another becomes righteous, and others start back-stabbing each other.

I'm now drunk with work and caffeine-overdose so here's my point:

I am not the God to judge who should fulfill their womanhood by becoming moms; however, if they do get that wonderful privilege of bringing another life into this world I do hope they step up, breathe life and create a difference (a good one). Articles like this one (http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080802/ap_on_re_us/starvation_death_charges) makes me feel sad, angry, full of pity.

Moreover, my mind fills up with questions: What is happening here? Can people still change? Is this world still worth it? Is Life worth it?

The Alchemist: Take 2

January 29, 2008

I am now reading again Paolo Coelho's The Alchemist. I did not understand the book quite well the 1st time I got a taste of it a few years back. I remember I had read it around April or May of 2005 before I went to Taiwan for my 1st living-abroad experience.

I also remember liking Coelho's writing style. There is a sense of adventure that gave me the momentary laps of wonderment and imagination, as well as enough touch of quotes about life that left me grounded.

After taking FLEX, ALC, LEAP, staffing thrice for FLEX and twice for ALC, and chiefing a FLEX, I am again taking another leap of faith as to what this book now has to teach me.

The words now about universal conspiracy to one's declarations of heart do not sound as alien as before. Previous images of cult practises now provide images of a graceful spiritual flight. Through the life of a young shepherd, I was allowed access to reflect on my own life.

My father used to mock me about keeping books for the purpose of rereading them in the future. I look back and see he is wrong.

Question Marks in the Air

These past few days I've been feeling simultaneously restless and sluggish with my work. I don't know if it's because I've started working full time or because I don't find enough excitement to going to office. The only reason I look forward to each day is because... heheh that's for another blog entry...

I've been thinking how this work is not cut out for me, and vice versa. A few days ago, I rediscovered where I had placed my Alchemist book, and I decided to reread it again. I do feel that books like that are meant to be read and reread and reread...

"Visitors"

Suddenly the guard here in Ateneo Professional Schools decided to recommend our Confucius Institute office as an unofficial library to graduate students who are going to have their midterm exams.

I did allow them to use the facility; however, I am really feeling uneasy about this whole arrangement. Processing myself, I realized that I felt I was taken advantage of. At first a couple students felt comfy then another came, then another, then another. Before I knew it, I am a librarian to half a dozen crammers. >:/

Later I plan to talk to the guard or whoever's in charge... Hay, "I" message...

I Am Legend not so legendary

Recently I got the chance to experience the cold ambiance of the movie houses again. Choices were the MMFF candidates plus a couple of foreign movies.

I remember when I 1st watched a movie. I was with my mom. She used to tell me when she was young, her eldest sister and she will go to Avenida to catch some Susan Roces flicks back I think when movies were still in faded colors or in black and white. I really like it when Mama goes nostalgic and tells me some stories of her younger years.

My friend and I chose to spend quality time with Will Smith's I Am Legend. And I perfectly agree with Julianna Palermo's write-up on that movie. The director/producer could've done better with the ending. Honestly, not the best movie I have ever seen. Sure the effects were not bad; however, I wouldn't recommend it to friends. Good thing I have someone special with me, so my night was still well-spent. ;P

New Year, New What?

As I sit here coming up with a new entry for my blog, I see the evening sky from my 2 bedroom windows bursting with flavorful colors of violet, pink, red, yellow, green. My ears are ringing from the explosives and my back's hurting from sitting too long on this chair.

The lights and booms appear too close for comfort, as if when I reach out of the window, I can easily cup in my hands these puffy colorful flowers of the night.

Since this morning, I kept shaking this irate feeling of fear, uncertainty, anxiety. I kept trying to bring back the loving Haidee, the one who believes that love is the answer, no other way to do it.

On my right window, I watch red strikes glide the walls of my room. On my left window, I watch red and green bullets attack the serenity of a regular night. I lowered the volume of my TV to bask in the thunders. I feel my floor shiver now and then. I can smell the residue of fireworks powder even with tightly closed doors and windows.

Looking back, I have never experienced New Year like this, feeling alienated, alone, incomplete. Looking back, I have never witnessed New Year like this. Usually, I turn the TV and music from my laptop full blast to drone out the unwanted sounds.

But now, I feel like a child again. A continuous replay of "Seasons of Love" serves as the perfect background to the pitter-patter of the celebrations, the sprinkle of Trix-colored night pellets.

I guess 2008 is very promising after all. :)

Equine Experience

Mom said yesterday to wake up early coz we still need to buy fruits and flowers yada yada before her opening shop yada yada.

I was jolted out of dreamland when she barraged into my room picking up clothes to wash for her early morning laundry. Ungodly 4:30am, when I set my alarm at 5am. I was robbed, I tell you, ROBBBBEDDDD!!! So here I am watching Travel & Living again at 5:30am while waiting for my mom.

Every time I tune in to this channel, feels like I'm being transported to another world, to their world: their travels, their adventures, their luxury... *sigh*
Anyway, I caught Angus Fontaine living the life of the rich & famous... and not-so-famous, yet still lavishly wealthy. He's now checking out Miraval Resorts at Arizona. Now, I'm more of a Bobby Chinn and Anthony Bourdaine fan (I wonder why...), so whenever I catch Angus Fontaine on TV, I tend to switch back to Disney Channel or what other show caught my fancy.

However, something he was trying out at the resort caught my attention. He was enrolled at a program involving horses. *Eyng* Wrong guess. He's not horseback riding.

Doing a quick search on the web, he was enrolled at Wyatt Webb's Equine Experience program. Wyatt tasked Angus to simply give a horse a ... "hoof scrub." As you've seen in cowboy movies, one does not immediately grab a horse's hoof, unless one wants to instantly become a 4th of July show.

So Wyatt guided Angus to slowly move down the horse's leg, gently squeeze its ankles, and wait for a few seconds for it to raise its hoof; if not, back off. Kinda like wooing a girl to dance with you in the old 16th century balls. Anyway, I guess Angus' charm only works on women coz the horsie refused him its hand... er, hoof.

Before backing off, what Angus did was to slowly glide his hand again up to the horse's shoulder. What was fascinating; however, was how Wyatt detected a lot of Angus' traits/mannerisms/behavior/attitude with that simple scene. He asked how long had Angus been using his charm to get his way, to get what he wants.

Wyatt told Angus to try the whole task again... but with his eyes closed. Angus obliged, and as a viewer, I can see how Angus became more unsure of himself. He only relied on his senses and on Wyatt's voice and instructions, "move a bit more to your left, squeeze lightly..." I can see that though it seemed a bit awkward or unnerving, it was a practice of trust for him then and there: trusting himself, trusting Wyatt, trusting the horse. He has no other way but to abide to the rules of a different game.

After a few seconds, the horse raised its hoof up for a quick scrubbing from a well-traveled journalist who probably has never scrubbed someone else's foot, let alone an animal's. Wyatt processed him and Angus admitted that what worked was him following his instinct.

That program really grabbed my interest because since I've finished LEAP, I've been into similar things: clawing deep down and discovering untapped natural capabilities, which are basically the only qualities one would need in this world.

Someday I'd like to experience that and learn from that man, Mr. Wyatt Webb. What's the value, you say? Well, I should say: learning, growth, excitement, adventure, humility.

On the Look-out: Drum Tabs

Anyone knows where I can get drum tabs of songs like Linkin Park's "Faint?" It would be helpful also if there's a website where solo drumming vids are available.

P.S. Linkin Park seems like they're evolving. A bit U2-ish now, esp with their new "Shadow of the Day."

Maury Show

I'm watching Maury now at 2nd Avenue. Yeah, it's obvious I'm a TV addict. I guess I'm just compensating for the times I was too tired to even turn on the TV.

Boy, these Americans can be freaky. I hope the freakiest ones are just fabricated, but it seems that people can be...er, creative in their lives also. So far what I caught in the show are:

• A 38 year-old white woman is engaged to a 24 year-old black dude. Her instincts are telling her he had been cheating on her, and that he might be a man-whore for free cigarettes, mp3 players and a laptop. She said she's been too distressed that she can't eat, can't sleep.
  
• As a trap, Maury's team put the guy into a limo with a lady-decoy pretending that she's one of the guests for the show. It took the guy 13 minutes before he started lip-locking with her.
  
• So no surprise when lie-detectors divulge that this guy had cheated with 5 women, 25 times.
  
• 
  
• A woman's husband is a pimp and had been cheating with her.
• 
  
• An angry man subjected his wife to Maury, and his lie-detecting machines, to check if she had cheated and is cheating on him.
  
• He believes that their 3 children are not his, and has been alienating them.
  
• Guess what, his wife never cheated.
  
• Well, in support of his truth, I hope he settles his issues before his children end up like him or like the other freaks featured in the show.

What I can't get is why do some of these people need to bring their case to national (and international TV) when they know that they would revealing embarrassing and degrading facts and secrets about themselves. Can't they just settle this in court or with a family or marriage counselor?

Declare and Deliver

It had been sometime since I last thought of coming up with a list of things I want to do while I'm still alive. I guess I've been thinking of a limit when in fact I should be open to additions subtractions multiplications divisions (to the list) as life rolls.

Since it's free to dream:

• write a book
• learn wakeboarding/surfing/water skiing/wind surfing
  
• buy a Nikon DSLR (still hesitating with D40)
• buy a video camera
  
• own a car (still drooling over Mazda 3... occasionally tempted by the stocky Mazda 6)
  
• go to Singapore to visit friends and relative
  
• explore the bazaars of Thailand
• adventure the lands of Australia and New Zealand
• taste the flavours of Europe
• scuba-dive the local waters of the Philippines
• own a house with bookshelves for my babies, a bathroom lounge, a walk-in closet, a room for my drums
• paint
• host an exhibit of my photos and paintings

That's all for now. I have another topic in mind for my blog revival. :)

Seasons of Love...?

Today's Christmas, and I was watching Christmas toons on Disney Channel while surfing for Wicked songs. I found out that the lead Idina Menzel was on Rent also. This reminded me of the song "Seasons of Love," which reminded me of 3rd Intensive. How it was just overflowing with love.

But something happened here at home that's no season of love.

Today's Christmas, the day our maid of 5+ years left. She had a fight with my aunt, packed her stuff and stormed out of our home. Mom had been declaring to the universe that our maid will leave. Ask and it shall be delivered.

I just felt bad that it was Christmas and it was evening. No taxis are passing by and she hadn't caught herself yet to think where she'll be staying.

I'm not writing a MMK special here. I just feel sad with what had transpired.

I feel that in a way, I am also partly responsible for not taking action. I could've counteracted the flow of events but I chose to stay in the comforts of my room when things are getting loud outside. I thought it's the usual hoolabaloo. I should have heeded when my intuition's "wang-wang" started screaming.

Man, I should stop this. It's really hard beating myself up. Pakshet mga belief system na ito! Every time I realize where these all came from, I find myself distancing my source of thousands of BSes: my mom.

I know I still feel...incomplete, so everyday I work on concretizing myself, that someday I can take back my lost childhood characteristics, and live life as life and God had intended.

Christmas Eve

On some days aboard a jeepney or an LRT, or when I'm just lounging in a cafe somewhere, I always have a topic in mind to write in my blog page. I feel I always have things to share, but when the blog template's staring back at me, my mind seems to run out of gas.

In the meantime, half of my attention's directed to the TV. While channel-hopping among the cartoon stations, I noticed that Christmas 2007 is a few minutes away.

I looked back to my past Christmases.

I remember the times back in grade school and high school when school will go on a break days before Christmas. Whenever I get up in the morning, sans breakfast, I heartily enjoy marathons of Christmas toons on Cartoon Network and other channels. No matter how many times I've caught different versions and variations of Charles Dicken's A Christmas Carol (Flintstones, Scooby Doo, Mickey Mouse, Tom & Jerry, etc.), it's still amazing how I still enjoy watching them even in replays.

Now, I get to relive my childhood anew with cartoons with refreshingly new stories, as well as well-loved ones with wonderful twists. And now we have 3 channels that play these creations 24/7. (Tip: I find primetime, around 8pm, more enjoyable.)

One other Christmas that stood out was a bit recent. 2005 to be exact.

Unlike Philippines, Taiwan does not celebrate Christmas as a major holiday. So after 21 years of lounging my Christmases Manila, I was suddenly thrust in a society that works their Christmastime off. Man, how I had missed everyone back in Manila: my friends, my family, the food, the festivities, driving to familiar places, the comforts and conveniences.

I had been immersed in Taiwan for more than 6 months already, yet all of a sudden, everything felt so foreign again. As if this season to be jolly had recharged the feeling of isolation, hollowness that I had tried to beat by diving myself into work and more requested work. There were more "Hay..." than "Falalalala lalalala..."

I used to rationalize then that our Christmases was nothing extraordinary. We don't have noche buenas. Exchanging gifts is optional. "Kung hindi kailangan, wag nang bilhin. Mahirap panahon kelangang magtipid." Partly I bought my own rationalization. It took some of the sting away.

Coming back to the present, with that memory replaying like old Christmas cartoon reruns, I felt really grateful for being here, for spending Christmas here.

Sure, I'm back to our eventless Christmas "celebration" here at home. However, the feeling's like rebirth. I enjoy things differently. Merely ordering food, in my native tongue, at a restaurant brings an inner smile. Driving around feels comfortable. Seating shotgun while chatting with a taxi driver awakens me even after a claustrophobic experience at a packed Mall of Asia.

It's heart-warming... and scary at the same time. It's like falling in love again yet knowing the risk that it wouldn't last. I see myself living and thriving abroad, and it's a bit scary to think that some day I will have to relive again those same emotions I had felt back in Taiwan.

But that's still in the future, and as I've learned, live in the moment. And borrowing a theme from moments of past, this moment calls for a cup of hot chocolate, a remote control and some classic Disney cartoons.

krish-krish-krish

Dice Gaaaame!!! No, not the Mooncake Festival Dice Game. But the same dice game that got me drunk a few weeks ago... or was it a month ago.

This time around, my aunt and I, the ladies get to drink a alcoholic plum drink. At first glance, you'll think, is that honey? It's not bottled fancifully. It's contained in a, yup, a honey jar: small jar probably around 50oz, yellow cap, simple label, honey-looking color. Above all that, the drink's great!

The moment the drink touches your lips, you'll feel nothing can taste sweeter than this. Then sourness rises over the sweetness. But it's not too sour that'll make you long for the heavenly taste of a lemon. Tama lang ang asim. After all the regular plum flavors settle, the alcoholic taste kicks in.

The trick here is to sip it or take it in small shots. Sure, it's hot down the throat, but the lingering sweet-sour-alcoholic zest makes it more than bearable.

heheh And as for the guys?

Well, my cousin had this huge jar of medicine kuno for his aching back. Dunno where the hell he got the Chinese herbs doused and sitting in 20g of huangjiu (yellow wine). For the uneducated, un-baptized, untrained out there, huangjiu is probably the local wine with the highest alcoholic concentration. So imagine the strong punch with an even stronger punch from the herbal concoction.

I met this INTOXIFICATING potion first time when I was sweeping our pad. My bloodhound nose picked up this weird smell, which eventually led me to this hellish mix. It was sealed and wrapped in plastic then, mind you. I think even without my inane smelling talent, its smell would've caught my attention. And we're just on smell there, care to taste?

Going back to the dice game, hehe, our beloved guys, my uncle and my cousin had to drink this for their consequences. And if the game was imbalanced enough, their shots are greater than our shots. hahaha

It's priceless to see my 52-year-old uncle squirming and making faces like a 5-year-old who got a surprise injection or pulled by the ear by a tyrannical granny. Even more priceless to see my cousin got caught in his own bluff 3 times in a row! Here he is with a Santa Claus body, jumping (with his man boobs and tummy blobbing up and down with him), flinging-flanging his arms like a wet bird flinging-flanging water from its wings, flopping down on the sofa like a whacked fish.

hahaha Man, I should've known there was a camera on top of microwave. Those 2 men-of-the-house are just hilarious!

I played the game real well tonight! I'm proud to say I didn't end up drunk as my uncle had expected and I played the rounds real well. I lost more than a couple of times but they were worth it. Learned a few tricks and like I said, the drink's great!

Not too good for my cuz though. We went home and on our way, he said he feels like throwing up. I said, no you're not going to blow up at our pad. (That would mean I would've have to clean it coz he's too messed up.) So he said, ok he'll throw up along the way since there are patches of grass behind low-lying bushes. And throw up he did. His "lwoeu...bu-lah..wul-lah.." can be heard resonating from the tall buildings in the silent 1am cool night. The moon's perfect for werewolves, bright but hidden in passing clouds, making it more weird for this type of scene.

Casually, I took the keys to our pad and his man-pouch, walked past him, up the stairs, into the elvator and into our pad. I could still hear his "bu-lah... wul-lah..." a minute after I settled into the couch.

When he came in, he said, This is my advantage (comparing himself to locals or to his peers). I could get drunk, continue what we're playing, then throw up after the game, and feel refreshed and alert afterwards. Ain't I amazing?

Hmm... It is pretty amazing he doesn't need to tickle his throat to barf. He does not lie when he said he's so gotten used to throwing up, he just bends and force the ghastly contents out.

Other than that regurgitating skill, I don't really see what the amazing thing is. Why would you pay someone to make that hellish "pain-reliever" in the first place?