dory, why do i love thee?

i love thee in so many levels... :p

Dory Blinking Just Keep Swimming Icons

Hoist the Colours.

how can a les like me not like johnny depp...
if it doesn't make sense to you well... it doesn't make sense to me too.

Who and what i like at the moment
1) Johnny Depp ( uhuh) this is so stating the obvious
2) Geoffrey Rush (capt. barbosa) and his mutinous sense of humor (what, i like playing with words!)
3) Bill Nighy (Davy Jones) and his weird laughter. i can so relate. lol
4) and of course the musical score, especially this:

The king and his men
stole the queen from her bed
and bound her in her bones
The seas be ours and by the powers
Where we will well roam

Yo, ho, haul together
hoist the colors high
heave ho, thieves and beggars
never say we die

Some men have died and some are alive
And others sail on the sea
with He keys to the cage
and the Devil to pay we lay to Fiddler's Green

The bell has been raised
from it's watery grave
do you hear it's sepulchral tone
We are a call to all, pay head the squall
and turn your sail toward home

Chit Chat with Chiching

Chiching says:

Is there something wrong with me? Why do I feel like I am about to commit such utter rubbish?

I was looking at this wonderful piece of art. You see, I would like to think of myself as someone austere. No make it downright boring and not given to anything pleasing to any or all of my five senses.

I smirk and say to myself, well it’s very pretty but I don’t need it. I can do very well without it can’t I?

Days pass and as life would have it, I win a ticket allowing me to once again see this piece of art coupled with a raffle stub which, if I’m lucky will allow me the right to ownership. ( that was quite long)

I feel myself going for it. I take three steps forward. I stop. I remember something and I take two steps back. I hear something in my mind and once again go still. This voice propelled me five steps forward. Now excitement begins to build up over the prospect of having this thing in the palm of my hand. I see wonderful images. All of a sudden, these images turn into something ugly, almost painful. I stumble and force myself to stop yet again. No I don’t want to be a charity case I tell myself. I don’t want this. I go through my customary chats with my conscience.

Maybe I shouldn’t be doing it this way. I don’t really need this! Besides, if I want it I’ll have it through my own resources. Who needs it anyway? I’m happy without it. And if I have them, what then? Just so I can have something to flaunt? Bah! (I can hear my friends chuckling over the familiar lines. So me ei?)

Then it had me thinking, things that won’t really make any sense if put to words but which lead me to this realization -- YOU WANT IT. In fact you want all forms of it. You want it in every possible way. You want it to be made available for you, for things to go in a way that this thing is almost begging you to have it. However, given all these you’ll choose not to have it. The choice NOT to take it, that’s what you want. More importantly the feeling of pain at the thought that you could have had it, not because you wanted it but because it wanted you and you turned away from it.

CHOICE

PAIN

THAT’S WHAT YOU WANT.

RUBBISH?

winterson

PICTURE THESE:

1) A simple chiffon cake coated with plain white vanilla icing. No frills. no flowers. NADA

You're given a slice, you take your fork, tuck in and when you finally feel that small piece of pastry in your mouth you're simply at loss for words. And when I say at loss for words it has nothing to do with the fact that your mouth is full and you've been taught the "proper" table manners.

Later on you find out that this cake was the creation of no other than the confectionery master. THE ONE.


2) One hundred billion neurons which are capable of electrical and chemical communications with tens of thousands of other nerve cells.

This mass which typically weighs 1.5kg is the source of conscious cognitive mind. (Wikipedia) More popularly known as the brain, it is capable of almost anything.

Take it out of the skull and it's vulnerable, unassuming, almost undesirable. Who would want a terrible looking mass like it? Take it away and you're nothing but a vegetable.

Although i have to say vegetables can be more logical that some people. Pichay's campaign vehicle just went past our street. I guess I'll have to take back my vegetable praise.

I wont pretend that I know all about the gazillion authors and their respective novels in this universe. I don't. ( Ask me about hair and hair products, i just might go rant for weeks. No need for honorarium.)

BUT IF YOU ASK ME WHAT I THINK OF JEANETTE WINTERSON AND HER NOVEL ORANGES AREN'T THE ONLY FRUIT, EXPECT AN ANSWER SIMILAR TO THIS BLOG:)

closed gob for once

Obsession, addiction, enchantment, dependence (oh, okay the last one's a bit scary) can't even begin to describe my state of existence when it comes to the most-well developed t.v. series this side of the universe. I just love it when i'm bias!

I've been meaning to do a bit of BAD GIRLS over-sharing here for months now but such is my love for it i'd rather have you see this youtube flick. hekhek

If you've been subjected to my unstoppable and uncorkable gob (let us not be graphic please) you'll definitely know my( effort at) restraint speaks a lot.

BOW

hilariously fantastic!

mapagpatamang pablo neruda :)

Couldn't help but post these.

sonnet III

Bitter love, a violet with its crown
of thorns in a thicket of spiky passions,
spear of sorrow, corolla of rage: how did you come
to conquer my soul? what via delorosa brought you?

Why did you pour your tender fire
so quickly over my life's cool leaves?
Who pointed the way to you? what flower,
what rock, what smoke showed you where I live?

Because the earth shook -it did- that awful night;
then daw filled all the goblets with its wine;
the heavenly sun declared itself;

while inside, a ferocious love wound around
and around me- till it pierced me with its thorns, its sword
slashing a seared road through my heart


sonnet XVII
(excerpts)

I love you as certain things are to be loved,
in secret , between the shadow and the soul
... the plant that never blooms
... lives darkly in my body

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where
I love you straightforwardly without complexities or pride
So I love you because I know no other way

so it continues...

ALL OVER ME
Danger Flowers

In this space between what's wrong and right
You will find me waiting for you
All your fortresses go down with the night
To the dawn I'll see you through

Coz I know
That you know
You're all over me now
And it's clear, it will show
Your guardians will go
But if your heart is cold
My sheets are warm
I will shelter you through the storm
I will shelter you all through the storm

imagine me you

For the past few months, my mind alternately went into limbo, excessive imagining. limbo again, and more imagining... I am not sure what I really attained from those "strenuous" activities, but it was fun. Try it:p

I'd gladly share the things that came up from the imagining part, but Im well aware of the concept of OVERSHARING so in true MTRCB tradition I promise to talk about the most innocent of stuff. So here's the story...

That's all folks!

Bwahahaha...

Seriously, I've been imagining among other things that I had copy of this British romantic comedy, Imagine Me and You starring Lena Headey and Piper Perabo. I've been hearing about it for quite some time but since it wasn't exactly commercially released in this mole-led country, I had to content myself with "underground" research for my source. No, I have not been watching spy movies again, and No,I have nothing against moles. I love moles! Except for that kind of mole attached to and taking control of this Tolkien creature.

While imagining is not an evil endeavor, nothing can top the real thing and luckily for me, my friend found a copy of said movie and lent it to me. HAPPINESS! But my 2-month old dvd player had to conk out that week of all weeks. SADNESS. So same friend knowing how annying I can get when restless, threw in her extra dvd player. TOUCHNESS! So home, I went. WATCHNESS!

Now my friend told me that the movie's light and not something you'd usually use for heavy gender information dissemination. I told her, (In lena's knee-weakening voice)"It doesn't matter"... please allow me a moment to feel the kilig again... I have so many heavy stuff going round for me anyway. So light, it is.

In true praning fashion, my worrying over possible nuissances -- unexpected visitors, missing t.v. remote control, blackouts, duty calls, comets falling on our streets, etc -- almost erased my giddyness. Ok, ok I did say "Love makes the world go 'round but without air we're dead" but I can do mushy too!

Obsessiveness pays u know... plus the forces of nature were in a good mood so as soon as i hit the play button, kilig set in... sigh...

I thought that as soon as I get my hands on the dvd, my imaginations would be cut down in half. But no, as I watched the movie and long long after I've returned the dvd player, it only intensified... That Lena Headey. How dare she make my heart beat that fast! And how dare her, being so hot like that! Not when I have told myself just recently " Self, you're a plant. It's less complicated that way." Wasamaterwitme.

And the rest of the Brit cast (and Piper), how dare they make me laugh at their brit sense of humor. I've crossed over from being gay to being ecstatic. Not when Im supposedly depressed -- not sad.

What can I say about the movie? Well it wasn't exactly the don't-forget-me-to-the-highest-level type of movie, but for now, I won't remember anything else.

So the question is, "What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object"?

I'm certain as the mole in GMA's face that boxing, or any of its mutations, never occupied a spot in my heart. I also know that I must never voice this out lest I bleed to death from the dagger looks I'll surely receive from my fun-loving, manny pacquiao-obsessed countrymen. Everything it stands for runs contrary to my beliefs. I will not however, expound on this because I've recently developed this nasty dory habit that by the time I’m done with my "belief system", I would have totally forgotten what I initially wanted to write about.
Where was I?

Well, last Sunday, my slightly hung-over being found the opportunity to watch the Beautiful Boxer. I've been meaning to watch this movie but could never find the right time and mood. My bro told me it was a good one so armed with my HOD and a newly-opened nicotine supply, I hit the play button.

Two hours later, I was left with an amalgamation of emotions I was quite unsure if I should cry or window-gaze till kingdom come. I of course did both. Hey! I’m an NGO-worker, multi-tasking is what we specialized in. Oh okay, that was a little bit creepy.

I won’t say that the movie rocked my world or that it was the best one I’ve seen. I also won’t say it was boring or sketchy. I don’t even know how much of it was really based on the life of the hero/heroine, a thai kickboxer. That’s all I’m gonna say, coz like I said, Dory syndrome.

What I am certain of is that for the nth time in two years, I found myself seeing things more clearly through something I used to look unkindly on. Boxing. I’m not and will never be a kickboxer, but I realized that my life runs through a course similar to one. Perhaps the best way to describe this life I’m talking about is through the words of the hero herself. (If you’re wondering about my choice of pronoun, you definitely have not seen this movie, or have no idea what it is).

They don’t know that I don’t like hurting people… but when you’re in the ring you have no choice

chiching and i

A couple of days ago, I chanced upon someone who played a part in my highschool life. It was a brief encounter and as we said our goodbyes, chiching with his ancient flair for drama ( look who's talking)left me with these words:

I found this work of art that has been deconstructing me for quite some time now. I had to lay it down however, because I realized it was not the baggage that goes with mine.

Oh alright, some of the words were not his. I had to spice it up a bit. But he was basically saying the same thing.

So what's my point? Three actually --- ... sigh

Nobility (king or queen, it doesn't make a diff)

as Sting would put it...

There's a little black spot on the sun today
(That's my soul up there)
It's the same old thing as yesterday
(That's my soul up there)
There's a black hat caught in a high tree top
(That's my soul up there)
There's a flag-pole rag and the wind won't stop
(That's my soul up there)

I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the king of pain

There's a fossil that's trapped in a high cliff wall
(That's my soul up there)
There's a dead salmon frozen in a waterfall
(That's my soul up there)
There's a blue whale beached by a springtide's ebb
(That's my soul up there)
There's a butterfly trapped in a spider's web
(That's my soul up there)

I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the king/queen of pain

Lady irony can make your life a real hell.

Picture this. You get into a relationship primarily for the reason that the other person is there. You like her but you’re not exactly sure you love her back. You enjoy her company and you admire a lot of her traits. On top of that, you at least believe -- the operative word is then -- that she will treat you well. This is what you call the offspring of jadedness and wishful thinking. This goes on with all the appurtenances of a relationship meaning: kilig moments, lqs, weekends together, days apart, her helping you with your law school assignments, time spent together instead of time spent for study and work, gift-giving, painful words hurled at each other, meeting each other’s friends, meeting each other’s exes, etc., etc, etc.

Then, something happens to her and she’s gone just like that. You know she has cause to do so, and you try to tell her you understand but for some generation-rooted reason, she automatically assumes that you’re being such a completely unyielding, self-absorbed… thing, without giving you the chance to say your piece. Let me just point out that like half of the population of this world, you absolutely hate it when you do or at least you try to do something, and people make it appear you’re doing completely the opposite of it. It’s truly frustrating, unfair, high-handed, and cheap.

Since you are a self-healing entity, and you still have dementors posing as law professors and friends who share your blood type – alcohol – you deal with her absence and move on. And since you’re not the tin man and your flesh is weak, you soon find yourself falling for other people. The lover is soon shoved in the fossilized past.

On holidays and special occasions you hear from her. She, of course does not hear from you. Why? We can start with two reasons: a) the economy is not improving contrary to what our dear president says and b) cell phone companies’ unlimited text promos can barely accommodate your text schedule. Plus, you try to give you fingers a rest once in awhile.

Almost a year after her flight to Never Land, you see each other upon her invitation. At first you were not too keen with the idea of seeing her at a party, since you’re currently dealing with other existential questions; mundane tasks brought about by merely breathing and living in this cockroach-infested city that you love by the way; and other reasons you dare not voice out lest you be branded as politically incorrect. However, since you truly believe that you have finally learned to calmly approach the mess that happened between the two of you and saying NO has never been your forte, you tell her “I’ll try.”

On the day of the party the decision was almost made for you when, gasp, a dipsomaniac like you almost got puking drunk from the hootch you’ve guzzled during your date last night. So you tell her, you really can’t go. Ah, but a friend is alone and needs to go out and party, so you gather your wits and go.

There she is, the woman who once shared your bed. And there they are, your other friends. You realized how much you missed them. And how much you missed going to parties like this. Well, parties similar to this. You also get to meet one of her exes. Since you appreciate beauty and your mind usually has a different take on certain things, you hear your brain say, “Wow! She’s a looker” and said ex momentarily becomes your preoccupation. Harmless crush. It’s not even a credible word nowadays. Hormones talking. So you’re safe. Really you are. Damn Femmes! You’re femme too (I’m doing this by default, ask my les friends why) so you accept that femmes of the species are really fabulous thereby deserving of curses once in awhile if only for their beauty. So damn femmes! Damn me!

Zooming back on your fossilized lover, you tell yourself “In fairness, she looks good”. Much better than how she looked when you two were still together. The word together is very flexible. And since in the world of Jedi lesbians she is already a Jedi master - Yoda actually - she manages to make the equation look like {you + her = still (or more) together}, instead of {you + her + unilateral actions = exes}. But you’re cool with it. Years of donning the “gabi costume” has paid off. It’s like second skin. Seriously…

Trouble begins day after the party. Armed with your cranky but unli-powered cell phones, you two trade compliments, rhetoric about the sighting, witty comments, you know the usual repartee. This went on until you find yourself compos mentis no more! You remember the good stuff, absolutely censored stuff, absolutely sweet stuff, absolutely crazy stuff. You’re absolutely whacked out!

You’re beginning to think that you might be falling in love with your fossilized ex! WTF is that?! How can this happen? You remind yourself that food, among other things, you can eat. Words you don’t, can’t and you mustn’t. Why are you reneging on your promises to yourself again? As you puff nicotine in your body you’re hit with one scary thought, maybe you were really in love with her before and this is just a very interesting time warp. Two more puffs and another thought enters your stream of consciousness, it could very well be because you’re in the desert and she is a mirage, an illusion. No difference from before. She just happens to be there.

Since you hear no miraculous voice giving you the answers you need, you content yourself with the conclusion that she really is some kind of a harbinger designed to maximize the annihilation of peace in your life so you proceed to hum… Women, what is it about them, can’t live with them or without them.

This reminds me, I should be getting myself a copy of RENT the movie

mental cobwebs

Love is...

Seeing beauty amidst flaws. That's how I see you
Restraint inspite of certain liberties. That's how I deal with you
Making your presence felt but never encroaching. That's how I hope I treat you
Honesty and deceit rolled into one. That's what I've been doing
Covering your eyes at times but never your ears. That's what I try to do
Silence for your happiness and peace of mind. That I promise you

Love grows and never wilts.
If it does it never was love.
You just keep it somewhere safe.
When a new one blossoms inside of you.

Zammy

When i pulled out the fruit from where it sprung
I knew then that I lost my heart twice
For their love of you, for what's and who's in you

I should have nothing but dark and eternal anger
Anguish that would never be quenched
For their love of you, for what's and who's in you

Everytime the sun rises upon you I always expect
The pain to flow incessantly and the bitterness to escalate
For their love of you, for what's and who's in you

Whenever the rain pours down and I hear 'em hitting the roof
I brace myself for the melancholy reminiscing I should feel
For their love of you, for what's and who's in you

And in all these times I get deeply disappointed
I end up seeing myself smile with a sweet mem'ry
For their love of you, for what's and who's in you

I am as you find me now
With one of the best gifts life can give
For their love of you, for what's and who's in you

de-gaying

Watching the last X-men installment was amusing for me.

Oh it wasn't the amusement ordinary fans would feel for three reasons: 1)i don't fancy myself as ordinary(wehehehe) 2) Im not really a fan just a movie addict and 3) the inner workings of my twisted mind would usually have a different take on a lot of stuff.

In the movie this particular person, predictably the father of one of the much-despised mutants, managed to develop this antidote which would permanently transform all mutants to ordinary,normal, two-eyes/two-ears/two-hands/two-legs (but not necessarily with functioning brain) homo sapiens. I gleaned that the supporters of this "noble" undertaking emphasized that there would be freedom of choice.

It would have been smooth-sailing but Magneto would of course allow no such thing. So he mobilized a dozen or so rebellious mutants, strategized...blah..blah..blah

As the movie progressed, I couldn't help but draw a sort of parallelism between mutant and gay lifestyles. You know how "normal' people tend to stereotype and cast judgements on them no matter how fabulous mutants(and, needless to say, gays) are. I was wondering how long it would take the viewers to sense my brain waves.

Voila! A few minutes after the movie my brother quipped " It was like a de-gaying drive/advocacy. I have no idea if my bro's sympathetic to the butterflies of the society, I never bothered to inquire. I had a feeling I would just be wasting my breath given the presence of ummm... gay dementors around us. Yes, even a motormouth like me values silent moments.

The idea that he recognized the similarity was a first step. I may soon discover my vibes are wrong but suffice it to say, it made my day!

Uhuh

Home alone, that was my consignment
solitary confinement
so when we met I was getting around you

Coz there you stood and I would
I wonder could I say how I felt
and not be misunderstood

A thousand stars came into my system
I never knew how much I had missed them

Slap on the map of my heart you landed
I was coy but you made me candid
And now the planets circle around you

I didn't know I was looking for love until I found you

Gawd! I love sitti!:)

ang prinsesa at araw

Gumising na may ngiti sa labi
Bumangon, masaya, maaliwalas ang mukha
Dama ang pag-ibig na buhay
Buong tuwang binati ng prinsesa ang araw


Dumating ang alas-onse ng umaga
Sumagi sa isip manibalang na alala
Dama ang kabang nabuhay muli
May takot na tiningala ng prinsesa ang araw


Sumapit ang gabi, inihiga ang katawan
Binalak basahin librong mapagpatama
Dama ang nalimutang lungkot
Lumuhang nagpaalamam ang prinsesa sa araw

deaf-mutism

have you ever been in that state when you're surrounded by a lot of people, you see their lips move to form all sorts of words yet not really hear what they say?

or have a zillion thoughts buzzing in your mind wanting so much to express yourself but not knowing how and when to start?

such an agony. well, that was what i initially descibed it.
but after some time, it actually became... liberating