Some Stupid Thing I Probably Shouldn't Be Doing But It's Done So What the Hell

04 May 2011

Because I'm so smitten

And I'm done admitting

I'm Writing this song about you

As I sit on the porch

As I've done before

I really have nothing to do

Then I think about you

As I'm known to do

Yeah really this is nothing new

Because I'm so smitten

And I'm done admitting

I'm really so smitten about you

I'm a hopeless romantic

That's sunk like Titanic

Yes I know how stupid that rhyme is

But I'm can't help myself

Maybe no one can help

Maybe you'd like to give it a shot

Because I'm just so smitten

For third time admitting

That I can't help but keep loving you

You've said it I know

I have to let go

To be frank all my friends say it too

I wish I just could

I know that I should

But what can I do it's just true

I'm so goddamn smitten

I do wish I wasn't

Because I know you can't love me too.

Writer's Lurgy

30 January 2011

My name is Ernesto Dakila, I'm a writer. Well, sort of.

It's been a while, these past few weeks have taken a lot from me and I haven't gotten around writing something worth reading for the small population who think time is worth wasting reading whatever I come up with. It feels like I've been drained of things to say. Things have been happening and they've been keeping me busy, you'd think I'd be writing about it first chance I get. I didn't, I've been letting opportunities, ideas, and inspiration slip past me too often. Aside from the occasional want to rant about unrequited love and school and friends I have nothing, I avoid those rants for fear I come off as a fourteen year old emo kid.

Unlike fourteen year-olds though, we adults (legally) have alcohol and cigarettes. With the help of both I have been scribbling some pretty interesting stuff, I hope to share them with you some time. But in the meantime this is what you get, a writer going on and on about not writing enough.

I started writing this entry some time around half past eight, it is now half past midnight, I've been distracted by social networking, e-mails, movies, news, and lots of other things the internet has to offer. I'm not very good at the whole "close yourself from the world and get to writing" thing. Even if I do it long hand, I pause, I look around, I eat, I smoke, I talk to people. then I write again.

I'm a writer in bursts. Which perhaps, isn't helping me become a very good one.

My use of the language isn't elevated, my diction isn't noble, I must learn these things. I have to be better at this. But first, I must write.

(Oh look at how I ended this blog entry, just making a quick escape, not even giving proper support for my end statement, I'm really really tired.)

Listahan

28 December 2010

1.

Lista ng mga bagay na malalamig: bagyo, beer, bentilador, boses ni Armi, bote, bughaw, hangin, kama, kanin, kwarto, pasko, puso, sigarilyo, sorbetes, ulam, ulan, unan.

2.

Nagbabasa ako ng libro mula sa ibabaw ng balikat ng katabi ko sa bus, ang libro ay may kwento tungkol sa pag-ibig. Ako rin.

3.

Sabihin na nating ang mga bote ng beer na gumugulong sa sahig ng kwarto ko ay marka na ako ay mag-aalaga ng pusa sa mga susunod na araw. 

4.

Ang mga isda sa palengke ay laging nasa palengke, ang isda sa dagat ay hindi mas masarap kainin pero may kasamang paghihirap ng paghuli. Ang isda sa palengke na pinalaki pa sa palaisdaan ay nakakatamad na isda.

5.

Mga Kailangan ko na nagsisimula sa Pa-: Palabas, Palaso, Pandesal, Panulat, Papel, Parabula, Parachute

6.

Karatula sa Hong Kong:

"No Smoking I Will Crazy"

7.

Kapag ang buwan ng sintu-sintong pagsasaya ay naging buwan ng pagkahulog ng himpapawid patungo sa akin, magugunaw na ang mundo.

8.

Takot ako sa dilim.

9.

Sa mga pagkakataong hindi ka matulungan ni John Lloyd, o ni John Cusack, o ni John Mayer. Mabuti pang kumunsulta kay Johnny Walker.

10.

Listahan ng laman ng entri na ito: Isang lista ng mga bagay na malalamig, isang inimbentong kwento, isang propesiya, isang isda, isang listahan na may nawawala, isang karatulang hindi sinusunod, isang sintu-sintong propesiya, isang katotohanan, isang payong pang kaibigan, isang listahan ng laman ng entri na ito.

Midnight Drama: Part One of What Could be A Long Series of Drama

31 October 2010

It is 11:59 as I write this, the walls of my room shake as big-ass trucks pass by, dogs seem to be arguing about something, but the wind is quiet, and still I am lulled by the humming of my electric fan. After watching episode after episode of downloaded sitcoms I went down to the kitchen to make myself a pitcher of orange juice and a scooped a small bowl of peanut butter. Now I am sitting on my bed, hunched low, the only light coming from my laptop screen and I thought I should write something about love. So here I am.

There are no experts in love, the scientists can tell you about neural receptors and chemicals being secreted and bolts in your brain, and they can tell you of your beating heart, of your flushing cheeks, of your stutter as you speak, but they cannot tell you of love, not as you want to hear it. Social scientists go forth and observe your behaviors and the patterns and the similarities and differences between societies and cultures of their perception or expression of love, they give a lot of talk, but none of those are what I want to say. Even the poets and their figures of speech are not much different, they’re just fancy words, fancy phrases for something we all know, but can’t say what.

Love, love, love, we know of love, we know what it is, but we don’t have enough data about it to be able to say something about what it is that will be conclusively accepted as true. Except perhaps that it’s  perplexing.

----

I want to see you. I want to hold you.

I have dreams, dreams where I wrap my arms around you and I shield you from the world. In my arms nothing can harm you, in my arms there is no reason to be scared, in my arms there is nothing but my love. I can promise you my heart, I can promise you my life, I can promise forever if only you ask.

Tell me to come to you, tell me to speak, to shout, to proclaim to the world that I love you. Let me say it, let me say what we both know.

----

It is 2:19 AM, 26 hours and 20 minutes after I begun writing this piece and I am still thinking love. I have considered asking somebody more experienced than me in this field and then was where I hit another brick wall. What exactly constitutes the ‘experiencing’ of love? Does it require a mutual acceptance of a relationship before it falls into the category of ‘true’ love? I only bring that up of course because it was the main argument of this girl I knew in high school as to why what I was feeling for her cannot be in anyway ‘love’. Is an individual’s consciousness that a set of emotions and reactions to stimuli fall into a set and culturally accepted pattern constitute as ‘experiencing’ love, hence the phrase ‘falling in love’?

For several days now I’ve been immersing myself in different possible sources of information. Among them are love poems (notably, Chingbee Cruz has wonderful love poems, though again I cannot possibly know how the category ‘love poem’ was ever formulated without a clear enough definition of love), Hugh Grant movies, romantic songs (ignoring the fact that I might come off as spambot now, I would like to commend Ang Bandang Shirley for their album ‘Theme songs’), romantic comedy sitcoms, and even the holy books of different religions. Still I’ve got nothing.

----

I watch my cigarette burn. Holding it between two fingers I bring it closer and closer to my face. I see the ember as it consumes another bit of white paper and turns it into gray ash. The orange burns brightly within the black of the burnt tobacco, and right then I wanted to kill the embers on my chest. Burn my skin with this cigarette, right where my heart beats. It shouts, my heart does, it is cold and weak. I shall bring it warmth. I shall bury this cigarette through my flesh and bone to pierce my heart.

Your picture is pinned on a corkboard on my wall. Too small for me to frame it, too valuable for me to keep it in my wallet, too beautiful is the face on it for me to be able to cease thinking of it. I cannot hide it, I cannot throw it away, your smile immortalized in celluloid has been marked into my brain, etched with the embers of a cigarette.

I watch my cigarette until it burns nearer and nearer my skin. I swore to myself never to let it go, no matter the pain of the heat, no matter what stinging burn, I shall hold it until it dies between my fingers. Only then shall I let it go.

----

Jesus Christ, it’s now 3 AM and I’m writing vaguely about unrequited love, how much more pathetic can I be?

FML.

Ano Nanamang Ka-Emohan 'To?

15 July 2010

Nalulungkot ako, wow, astig, mind-boggling news.

Masaya naman ang buhay ko, nageenjoy ako sa mga klase ko kahit na di hamak na mas maraming babasahin kesa sa mga ibang taon ko sa UP (siguro dahil binabasa ko na talaga ang mga babasahin). Nagsusulat ako ng prosa sa wikang mas mabilis ako magsulat (ingles, masakit mang aminin napakabagal at masalimuot ko magsulat sa Filipino), magagaling ang mga propesor ko at madami akong natututunan na dati rati'y nadidinig ko na pero wala akong interes noon. Nakakapagsulat ulit ako, ng madami, at nakakapag palitan ako ng pananaw, hinuha at pagkakaintindi sa mga matatalinong kaklase at propesor. Masaya maging estyudante ulit.

Hindi ako binabagabag ng mga problema tungkol sa sweldo, sa trabaho, sa mga sablay na ginagawa sa opisina, sa pagbabudget ng sweldo, sa pagbabayad ng sarili kong kinakain at tinitirhan, regular ang koneksyon ko sa internet. Nagpapakasasa nanaman ako sa pera ng magulang ko. Kahit na nahihiya na ako sa ganitong kalagayan, aaminin kong mas konbinyente nga ito at dapat lang na maging masaya ako dahil dito.

Ang mga kaibigan ko ay nariyan lang, kahit na madami ay nasa Med School na, nag-tatrabaho na, o basta gradweyt na e hindi naman talaga sila nawawala. Si Jammin at Roxanne ay sumusulpot pa rin paminsan-minsan sa Peyups (at si 633 nga e natanggap pa sa PNG habang nakatambay doon, sa sobrang invested ko sa paghahanap n'ya ng trabaho e lehitimong pagkatuwa ang naramdaman ko din noon). Si Tinek naman e alam ko naman kung nasaan lang, minsan parang naiisipan kong sugurin sa tinitirhan n'ya, alam kong pwede ko gawin yun. Kapag tinext ko sila nagrereply naman, ganun din ang iba pang parte ng barkadang wala na sa Diliman.

Ang barkada naman sa Diliman ay medyo mas lumalalim ang masayang pagsasama, sina Froilan, Zion, Nigel, Mark, Melgar atbp, na parang hiwalay na grupong pareho lang ng tambayan ay mas lalo pang nakikilala bilang mga totoong tao (minsan parang hindi pa rin sila tao, pero medyo mas tao na sila), na hindi naman puro gaguhan lang. Syempre mas madaming gaguhan pero may maayos, malalim, at masasayang pag-uusap tungkol sa mga bagay na sa dulo't dulo ay naiisip kong sila lang ang pwede ko makausap tungkol.

Sa bahay naman ay wala lang, ganun pa rin. Wala namang malaking malabong gulo na magdudulot ng anumang grabeng lungkot. Maayos ang pakikisama sa isa't isa kahit nga sa kuya ko, kahit papano. Patuloy akong natutuwa sa mga kwento ng bunso namin tungkol sa pag-aaral n'ya at sa mga pagkakampihan namin sa mga laro sa facebook. Kahit na bigayan man lang ng servings sa Baking life o ng Luxuries sa Hotel City.

Pero dahil wala akong kwentang nilalang at emo (daw) ako, malungkot ako. Kung isa akong stereotypical na emo ay yayaman ang Gilette sa akin.

Minsan nakasakay ako sa bus at nag-iimagine pa rin ako, naghahanap ng mga bagay na hindi ko naman ine-effortan makuha, hindi dahil sa tinatamad ako (ang karaniwang dahilan) kundi dahil hindi ko alam kung paano, tsaka natatakot na din, nanaman, eto nanaman. Kahit ako nagsasawa na sa paulit-ulit na kakornihang hindi sinosolusyonan.

Sadya lang yatang pinapakorni ko ang masaya ko namang mundo, pero naiingit ako, nalulungkot ako, nanghihinayang ako at naghahanap ako. Wala e, ganun yata talaga kapritso ko. Hindi ko nga alam bakit ginagawa ko pang vague ang mga statement ko, kunwari ba naman hindi n'yo pa alam. Ang labo ko talaga, walangya.

Uwian na: Excerpt

25 April 2010

Maagang pinauwi sina Jun mula sa paaralan, tanghali pa lang ay sakay na s’ya ng serbis ng paaralan papunta sa kani-kanilang bahay. Walang takdang-araling binigay ang kanyang mga guro at tulad ng karaniwang bata sa greyd por ay pinaplano na n’ya ang mga paglalarong gagawin n’ya pagkauwi at ang mga palabas sa telebisyon na mapapanood n’ya dahil pinauwi sila ng maaga. Isang bulalakaw kasi ang bumulusok mula sa kalawakan papasok ng bintana ng kanilang silid at pumaslang sa kanilang guro sa Filipino, magiging abala ang mga dyanitor at karpintero ng paaralan sa paglilinis ng nabasag na bintana, pagtatanggal ng mga bakas ng pagkasunog at dugo sa mga ding-ding at kisame at pagpapalit ng salamin ng silid. Magiging abala din ang mga guro sa pagdadala ng katawan ni Gng. Pagtalunan sa morge at pagpapaliwanag sa pamilya nito sa kalunos-lunos na aksidenteng naganap. Kaya’t maaga silang pinauwi.

Binaba siya sa harap ng kanilang bahay ng mabait at palangiting drayber ng serbis ng paaralan, pag-pasok n’ya sa bahay ay inabutan n’yang nakatayo sa kisame ang kanyang ina at abalang binabakyum ang paligid ng bumbilya ng kanilang sala. Hindi agad napansin ng kanyang ina na nasa loob na s’ya ng bahay, marahil dahil sa ingay na nililikha ng bakyum kliner nila. Tumingkayad si Jun para kalabitin ang bumbunan ng ina, na agad namang tumingala.

“Aba, maaga ka yata ngayon.” Sabi ng ina,

“Hindi kita madinig, patayin mo muna ang bakyum, ma.” Sabi ni Jun, nakatingala sila sa isa’t isa

“Ano anak? Hindi kita madinig, papatayin ko muna itong bakyum.” Pinatay ng ina ni Jun ang bakyum cleaner. “Bakit maaga ka pinauwi ngayon?”

“May bulalakaw na pumasok sa bintana at tinamaan si Gng, Pagtalunan, patay na s’ya kaya pinauwi na kami.” Sabi ni Jun.

“Si Gng. Pagtalunan? Mabait na guro iyon, nakakalungkot naman.” Umiiling-iling ang ina ni Jun ng muling buksan ang bakyum at nagpatuloy sa paglilinis.

Tournament of Getting Awa (Google Translate is Coño)

25 March 2010

(May Blog entry ako na "Paligsahan ng Paghingi ng Awa" pinrompt akong i-translate ito mula Filipino sa Ingles. Sinubukan ko lang, komedya ampota :)))

Consecutive announcement of the politician want to be president, interfering little time each day nilalaan to watching TV. Villar to pinagpipilitan our hard lang talaga nung bata pa s'ya s'ya even s'ya private school attended and the three storey house they Tondo. The Noynoy that pinangangalandakan the 'achievements' of the parents while n'ya' di naman n'ya ignores the issue of Hacienda Luisita and Mendiola Massacre. Si Erap to pinangangalandakang denied him the Arroyo administration half term n'ya while Arroyo is also why independent s'ya today. Why do these at the top of the survey e nothing but magpaawa?

You see it was Villar, "I just returned me to being entrepreneurs." Why Manny, leave you? E you are the number one example of the capitalist burukrat. Run the country like a company. Not ordinary kurakot, ikaw yung tipong power not used for pagkamkam wealth but for konting maniobra that makakalamang you. Like that of the C5 road extension, you wander the streets of little benefit for Mr. naman. Villar.

Yun also means your campaigning, you yourself know you damaged sure-win that would have attended kandidaturya nung scene it was Noynoy. So now desperate can spend millions to raise itself in the ratings, to narrate the loss of your money. Ang galing, napakapoetic campaign, full of irony.

New School TRAPO be Manny, but still TRAPO the modern style, not too obvious. Pero ganun pa rin, concentrated gloss elegance, concentrated lie, concentrated for itself the doing.

We may forget about kay Erap? Convicted, CONVICTED, the graft & corruption. Stole that, knowing that, that that should makukulong if nerve lang yung judge. Mabubulok nga sana in Tanay in only if granted by Gloria (Morocco rin kasi we can die man President). Eto pa, just to prove that the insult dog called dog-eat-dog politics of the Philippines, RUN UNDER PRESIDENT! Inaway pa yung specific person nagpalaya him "Dog does not bite the hand that feeds it" apparently, some kind of animal it hinayupak to.

Have we forgotten that is why we cast him out of Malacañang this hayup it in the first place? I said when a rumor just to run it si Erap, if allowed s'ya Comelec, not that we really respect our own Constitution.

Ngayon naman, when it won si Erap, we no longer respect the Judicial system we decide him guilty, yet we do not pity our own country, our own family, the dish hinahain our table.

Who most Trapo mangandidato all candidates now? Si Noynoy! Hooray!

Who leads the survey? Si Noynoy! Hooray!

Kelangan that we stopped voting in the Icon. Erap won because the poverty Icon s'ya, Cory won was because s'ya Icon of the deceased was Trapong Ninoy Aquino (who were not be heroes if I just died in, which bwiset Trapo yan), Icon s'ya all the suffering of Martial Law and the Marcos regime. Why was leading Noynoy? S'ya you may experience? Nothing. Have proven that you s'ya? Nothing. S'yang you may do so? Ewan ko, malay natin? Magbabakasakali we nanaman an ICON that so lang naman n'ya run the party for e n'ya mother died and they masosolid n'ya Sympathy Vote (trying to usurp Villar with 'I died utol' line) . PUTANG INA! All that ad is a bald e pinangangalandakan n'ya how well the n'yang parents died and how n'ya want continue the initiated them. While stoned when you s'ya the issue about the administration of the mother n'ya or killed on land they answer e n'ya "Do ye pong toss to Senator Aquino achievements or achievements of n'ya relatives, others po si Senator Aquino, the po s'ya we judge. " Putang mother hypocritical double standard yan. E wala ka ngang maihusga to Noynoy, I s'yang meron naman e! Puro dada just about the stoppage of corruption while kaapu s'ya descendant of a master land pinagkakait to farmers in the land law that na should be them. Corruption? Ayun the corruption, the law does not apply to the Aquino family because they are more powerful.

Yes, I hate to hate to Aquino, for pinuputa n'ya us n'yang the deceased parents as reasons s'ya should vote. Sabagay, wala naman proud s'yang major bills passed as running mate n'ya. S'yang experience without the opponent n'ya. None s'yang anything, the meron lang si Noynoy is n'ya family, the rotten n'yang surname.

Yes that, somewhat irritated that the OA ko kay Noynoy, but for the mercy cheating, not cheating it three voting to ha? Please?

Paligsahan ng Paghingi ng Awa

18 March 2010

Sunod-sunod na patalastas ng mga politikong gusto maging pangulo, gumagambala sa kaunting oras sa bawat araw na nilalaan ko sa panonood ng TV. Si Villar na pinagpipilitan sa ating mahirap lang talaga s'ya nung bata pa s'ya kahit na sa private school s'ya nag-aral at tatlong palapag ang bahay nila sa Tondo. Si Noynoy na pinangangalandakan ang mga 'nagawa' ng mga magulang n'ya samantalang 'di naman n'ya pinapansin ang issue ng Hacienda Luisita at Mendiola Massacre. Si Erap na pinangangalandakang ipinagkait sa kanya ng administrasyong Arroyo ang kalahati ng termino n'ya samantalang si Arroyo din ang dahilan kaya malaya s'ya ngayon. Bakit ba itong mga nasa tuktok ng mga survey na ito e walang ginawa kundi magpaawa?

Tignan mo itong si Villar, "bumalik na lang sana ako sa pagiging negosyante." Bakit Manny, umalis ka ba? E ikaw ang numero unong halimbawa ng burukrat na kapitalista. Pinapatakbo ang bansa na parang isang kumpanya. Hindi ka ordinaryong kurakot, ikaw yung tipong ginagamit ang kapangyarihan hindi para sa pagkamkam ng yaman kundi para sa mga konting maniobra na makakalamang ka. Tulad na lang ng sa C5 road extension, ilihis ba ng konti ang kalsada para makinabang naman si Mr. Villar.

Yun paraan mo din ng pangangampanya, ikaw mismo alam mong nasira ang sure-win mo na sanang kandidaturya nung pumasok sa eksena itong si Noynoy. Kaya ngayon desperado kang gumagastos ng milyun-milyon para itaas ang sarili sa mga ratings, para ibida ang kawalan mo ng pera. Ang galing, napakapoetic ng kampanya mo, punung-puno ng irony.

New School TRAPO itong si Manny, TRAPO pa rin pero makabago na style, hindi na masyado halata. Pero ganun pa rin, puro pakitang gilas, puro kasinungalingan, puro para sa sarili ang mga ginagawa.

May nakakalimutan ba tayo tungkol kay Erap? Convicted, CONVICTED, ng graft & corruption. Nagnakaw na, alam na, makukulong na nga dapat kung may lakas ng loob lang yung Huwes. Mabubulok na nga sana sa Tanay kung di lang pinagbigyan ni Gloria (tanga rin kasi itong mamatay tao nating Presidente). Eto pa, para lang patunayan na insulto sa mga aso na tawaging dog-eat-dog ang pulitika ng Pilipinas, TUMAKBO PANG PRESIDENTE! Inaway pa yung mismong taong nagpalaya sa kanya "Dog does not bite the hand that feeds it" apparently, ibang uri ng animal itong hinayupak na to.

Nakalimutan na ba natin ang dahilan kung bakit pinalayas natin ng Malacañang itong hayup na ito in the first place? Sabi ko nuong may bali-balita pa lang na tatakbo itong si Erap, kapag pinayagan s'ya ng Comelec, wala na talaga tayong respeto sa sarili nating Saligang Batas.

Ngayon naman, kapag nanalo itong si Erap, wala na tayong respeto sa Judicial system nating humusga sa kanya ng guilty, wala pa tayong awa sa sarili nating bansa, sa sarili nating mga pamilya, sa ulam na hinahain natin sa mesa.

Sino ang pinaka Trapo mangandidato sa lahat ng kandidato ngayon? Si Noynoy! Yehey!

Sino ang nangunguna sa mga survey? Si Noynoy! Yehey!

Kelangan na nating tumigil sa pagboto sa mga Icon. Nanalo si Erap dahil Icon s'ya ng kahirapan, nanalo si Cory dahil Icon s'ya ng namatay na Trapong si Ninoy Aquino (na hindi naman sana magiging bayani kung di lang namatay, bwiset na Trapo yan), Icon s'ya ng lahat ng naghihirap sa Martial Law, at sa Rehimeng Marcos. Bakit nangunguna si Noynoy? May experience ba s'ya? Wala. May napatunayan na ba s'ya? Wala. May kaya ba s'yang gawin? Ewan ko, malay natin? Magbabakasakali nanaman ba tayo sa isang ICON na kaya lang naman pinatakbo ng partido n'ya e dahil namatay ang nanay n'ya at masosolid nila ang Sympathy Vote n'ya (na sinusubukan agawin ni Villar gamit ang 'namatay ang utol ko' line). PUTANG INA! Lahat na lang ng patalastas ng kalbong ito e pinangangalandakan n'ya kung gaano kagaling ang mga namatay n'yang magulang at kung gaano n'ya gusto ituloy ang mga nasimulan ng mga ito. SAMANTALANG kapag binabato mo na s'ya ng issue tungkol sa administrasyon ng nanay n'ya o sa mga pinapatay sa lupain nila ang sagot na n'ya e "Huwag n'yo pong ibato kay Senator Aquino ang mga nagawa o hindi nagawa ng mga kamag-anak n'ya, ibang tao po si Senator Aquino, s'ya po ang husgahan natin." Putang inang Ipokritong double standard yan. E wala ka ngang maihusga kay Noynoy, Wala naman s'yang meron e! Puro lang dada tungkol sa pagpapatigil ng korapsyon samantalang kaapu-apuhan s'ya ng mga panginoong may lupa na pinagkakait sa mga magsasaka ang lupang nasa batas naman na dapat na ay sa kanila. Korapsyon? Ayun ang korapsyon, na ang batas ay hindi nag-aaply sa pamilya ni Aquino dahil mas makapangyarihan sila.

Oo, suklam na suklam ako kay Aquino, dahil pinuputa n'ya sa atin ang mga namatay n'yang magulang bilang dahilan kaya s'ya ang dapat iboto. Sabagay, wala naman s'yang maipagmalaki na major bill na naipasa tulad ng running mate n'ya. Wala s'yang experience ng mga kalaban n'ya. Wala s'yang kahit ano, ang meron lang si Noynoy ay ang pamilya n'ya, ang nabubulok n'yang apelyido.

Oo na, medyo OA na ang inis ko kay Noynoy, pero para n'yo nang awa, huwag n'yo iboboto itong tatlong to ha? Please?

Indiana Jones and the Room of the PackRat GeekBum!

16 February 2010

Geez, I just realized how much stuff I have lying around. I actually fear snakes might be living under my bed. Boxes upon boxes of books and sheets of paper and old notebooks and documents and photocopied readings and doodles and manuals and magazines and comics and stuff. Not to mention my toys and art tools and CDs and DVDs and dirty cotton buds and bloody laundry. Now there are cables and cords for the scanner, chargers for my handhelds, old game catridges, packs of cards, beer bottles, posters, old bags, a remote controlled car, old lamps, boxes with unknown content, empty cigarette boxes, robot exoskeletons, dead prostitutes, and the Holy Grail.

I do try to get stuff organized. Every time I do, I get sneezing fits and itch all over because I am allergic to dust (considering the amount of dust in my room, I should be dead by now). That is part of the reason that most of the stuff are in boxes and in drawers now (my only cabinet is reserved for clothes and I do not have shelves). I try my best to throw stuff out whenever I clean up, but the problem is the "throw-out" box, always end up being declared "Hey-I-could-use-this-for-some-crafts" box or "this-stuff-will-be-interesting-to-read-one-day" box and the like.

I would like to finish this blog entry and stuff, but I'm kinda in the middle of trying to organize and failing miserably at it, so there you go.

The Continuity of Self-Hate in the War Against the Truth That is Time

08 February 2010

I have prided myself in being above mediocrity, on being more than the average man. I am ashamed to admit that all this time I have been wrong. But I will admit, I have been wrong, I am no more than a man. Whatever the definition of which it entails, that I am, a man and no more.

I would like to believe in a One True Way, a destiny, a predetermined future that speaks of me being born to be more than what I have always been. I would like to believe in fate. I would like to believe that there is something out there in the path time takes to the end of it all that says one day I will be great. But I know there is none, I know now that there is no one true way. That I am a man molded by the choices I make and the events this brings.

For as long as I could remember I have been obsessed with the past and the future. Wishing there was a way I could travel back with the wisdom I have now and change things, make things better than they are. Hoping that eventually something will happen that will lead me to a destiny I have so long wished for me to have.  I am constantly at war with the truth that is time, and that there is nothing I can do about anything in it other than what is in the present.

I have come to understand that my wishing and hoping have all been wrong. Understand, but not accept.

I know this, I accept that the fact that I cannot accept that fact is a weakness. I am afraid of the future, and as the mistakes I have made pile up I cannot stop myself from dwelling In the seas my incapability to take charge of my own life has created. I am drowning, and as I consume more and more of these errors I realize all of this is just too much for me, and I will die in my sins to myself and to the world around me. To the people I love, and how I have begun to hate people I love simply for being right about me, for stabbing me with knives and spears in my face. There is simply too much of it for me to start over.

--------

But then, I do not have to start over.

I have taken the step to realize I am drowning, I have awoken to see my world flooded by these blunders of my own making. I have accepted that there is no way for me to parch these waters, and what I have to do is to learn how to swim.

-------

I am humbled by my own words, I recall once saying to a friend; “We can never start over, we can only continue from where we are.” How arrogant of me to have said words I have been blind to follow. Time and time again reminds me of how my past has molded me to be what I am. Weak, irresponsible, arrogant, fool-hardy, timid, indolent, these are adjectives that have chosen me as host. I have lived a life to deserve the flaws of my nature, and not the splendor that I could be.

There, I said it, there is nothing I must be. There is nothing I should be. There is nothing I need to be. There are only the things I can be. Somewhere between my clouded reverie and lurid lucidity I know, There are things to be done, and everything now lies as to if I will.

I can never really know unless I try I guess.

Senses

03 February 2010

I wish we can turn off our senses.

I wish I can choose to not hear, not feel. I wish I could be there but not know it.

I always wish I cannot feel, the world I move around in is a jungle of stimulus that mauls each of my senses like mobs. I am left beaten from the moment I can no longer pretend to be asleep to the instance life grants my wish that I be numbed and fall asleep. The pain I bear is so that I forget to wish for my dreams to not hold the pain in them. If at all, remove all my senses, may no more come to this consciousness of mine, if I shall still live let me then be a shadow awaiting death. If you cannot take from me all that binds me to this reality then by the very least take my hearing. For I can always close my eyes, but my ears are cursed to always hear the words spoken to me by she who means to hurt, amen.

My name is Jun Palma, and I am not alone in the confines of my room. I share the space with fear, hate, anger, sadness. I share my room with the recurring words from a creature known to my soul only as the bringer of pain. I am not alone and I have never felt so weak.

Hate, if I have to left with only one thing, let it be the hate. My Hate.

The Complexity of Memory Annoys Me

28 January 2010

I wish people would stop telling people what things remind them of, I know I must've done it a few times as well but I'm gonna stop it right now. People should stop telling people what things remind them of. People get reminded of  a lot of things during conversations, people get reminded a lot of things when we look at things, people get reminded by a lot of things all the time! It's annoying when they start going "oh that reminds me..." "it reminds me of..." nobody cares what it reminds you of, did you get your conversation skills from a shoe?

It especially annoys me when it involves some sort of artwork done. A webcomic I read once had a lot of comments saying "This feels so Calvin and Hobbes" the artist commented back sounding offended, she had no intention of it looking Calvin and Hobbes-ish, she is barely influenced by Calvin and Hobbes and the readers thought it was very Calvin and Hobbes because it had a FRIGGIN' SNOWMAN! What the fuck was that about? What good did your comment do? Who the hell needed that information? Saying something like that is saying something because you don't have nothing to say, if you have nothing to say then DON'T say anything. Especially about what shit reminds you of.

To those who follow me on plurk, you would be familiar with how I was annoyed by a comment saying that my poster design reminded somebody of the Loverage poster for the UP fair sometime back. Now that was damn annoying, even if you meant it as a compliment, how the fuck did that comparison help anyone? And the designs don't even look anything alike. If it reminds you of something it offends our attempt at being original. It offends me because I go to great lengths to make it look good and the best thing people would say is "hey, that reminds me of ________" fuck that.

Okay, there goes Ernie again complaining about shit that don't go his way. Just think about it okay? That shit ain't cool.

A conversation (Flash Fiction)

14 December 2009

http://www.plurk.com/p/2z83jx
Isang Mabilis na ginawang fiction, presented sa format ng Plurk.

Darkness

01 December 2009

The dark does not exist. It is no object. It is the absence. Absence of the truth that is light.

Endless, and the fall has begun

Flesh flies off my skin as I bleed into non-death

Your voice echoes in my skull

Painful.

Stop it, stop this damnation

My turn for a revelation

Destined for the generation

Bleed the darkness out your souls

Get out, you're the stain in blood

Get out, you're the mud in my veins

Get out, you're the evil

Eat my heart outside my conscious self.

Slowly the mirror has become my fear

Darkness creeps it's arms around me

Eternal embrace of its son

I don't want to see those arms around me

Save me from this plight

Give me some light

Can no longer fight

I am never by myself, but I'm alone tonight.

Miss

15 November 2009

I hate being stuck at home. I feel like a bum. I'm not a bum. I'm a freelancer. That's a job.

I miss being at school. Not going to classes, just being at school. Hanging out with my buddies and talking nothingness. I miss Christine. I miss Jammin, I miss Roxanne. I miss everyone.

I miss drinking beer with my buddies. Drinking beer should always be with buddies. I want to treat the guys out for beer. A small group would be better than a big group.

I miss being respected for what I do and what I choose. I guess too many wrong decisions forfeit that right. I hate feeling like a burden.

I hate wanting to die. Wanting to die is as pointless as fearing death.

I miss being able to smoke at the sunken garden. I miss the smell of freshly cut grass. I miss jeepneys.

I miss nights at UP, where everything is beautiful.

I miss falling in love.

I hate having to go back at the office. I hate the way my old boss looks at me like I'm worthless. I hate knowing that she's right.

I hate the questions they ask me. When are you graduating. When will you be back at school. What are you doing right now. Where do you work. What does that mean. How much do you get for it.

Tell me if I suck. I'd love it. Affirm the belief I've had for years.

I hate this. I miss you.

Nauubos nga Kaya?

11 November 2009

(oo, yan talaga ang title n'yan, hindi yan inagaw sa mga linya sa Katorse kahit na parang magkasing korni)

Paano kaya kung ang pagmamahal e nauubos. Yung tipo bang me stock ng pag-ibig sa puso mo, tapos kapag naubos na e wala na, di mo na kaya magmahal. Kahit anong pilit mo, di na kakagat ulit tulad ng dati.

Naisip ko lang naman kasi hindi ako sanay ng hindi ako inlab, taena komedya. Lagi akong inlab e, kung kanikanino, apaka bilis ko mainlab. May mga resurgence-resurgence pang nalalaman ang puso't damdamin ng bwakanang inang pakshet, tipo bang maiinlab pa ulit sa nainlaban na nya dati kahit hindi na naman sya inlab dun for quite some time. Inisip ko tuloy, sa dami ba ng nainlaban ko (taena, anong salita yan? nainlaban ampotah) e naubos na ba yung stock ko, di na kaya? Napamigay na lahat (kahit di nila lahat alam na nakakatanggap sila), ubos na, sa kabilang bahay na lang kayo mag trick or treat kasi di na kaya mamigay ng kendi ng mokong na to, 1 week old na pandesal na lang ang natitira, bonus na yung palamang ipis.

Inisip ko din, sakali ngang nauubos yung stock ng pag-ibig, parepareho kaya tayo ng dami ng pag-ibig? Baka merong mga sumisirit na sa puso nila yung pag-ibig, dyuskopoandame, tapos meron ding yung perslab nya na kaklasmeyt nyang tinuruan sya magtali ng sintas nung greyd tu lang ang kaya nyang maalayan ng pag-ibig, pagkatapos nun serial killer na s'ya. Halata naman kasing iba-iba tayo ng paraan ng paglustay sa pag-ibig na meron tayong naka stock, haypotetikali. Halimbawa nga ako, para akong bagitong bumberong perstaym humawak ng hose na sobrang lakas ng bugso ng tubig, edi kung sino-sino na nababasa, alang direksyon ampotah. Meron namang parang Kongresman, karamihan ng pork barrel e sa kanya lang. Papatayo lang s'ya isang put brids.

Tsaka, paano kay kinokompyut yun? Ibig ko sabihin, yung mga paraan ng pagpapakita ng pag-ibig may corresponding value ayon sa kung gaano kadaming pag-ibig ang kelangan i-alay. Siguro magastos yung magsimula ng bagong lab, kaya siguro ubos kaagad yung sa akin, bigay lang ako ng bigay e, walang maintenance.

Pero baka naman narereplenish, pede mag reload. Halimbawa nood ka ng mga pelikula ni John Lloyd e me sapat na bala ka na para mainlab ulit. O kaya may pace din ng pagreplenish, tapos depende ulit sa tao, ang jologs pero ang astig atdaseymtaym! Kelangan ko talaga malaman kung paano na rereplenish kung sakasakali, kasi kanina pinipilit kong mainlab ulit ayaw talaga, parang alam kong dapat naiinlab na ako, pero di sumusunod ang puso sa dinidikta ng isipan. Wala na daw kayang ibigay e, yata, di ko pa naman talaga nadidinig magsalita ang puso ko, bingi ako sa mga hiling ng damdamin, nakanatutsa, nakakadiring linya!

Pero syempre, haypotetikal lang nga, malay mo eklat ko lang to tapos di naman pala totoo, wala lang. Mali yung hula ko, tapos maya-maya naiinlab na ulit ako. Baka napapagod lang ang puso pero di nauubusan, naks, kanina pa ako bumabanat ng korning linya, ang korni-korni ko na, Walang wenta pa tong entry na to, halo-halong kagaguhan, kakornihan, kadramahan, malalim na linya, makekesong eklavu, nakakabanas na banat at jumbo blender na writing style pa ang gamit. Korni-korni ko talaga, ang wirdo lang kasi kapag hindi ka inlab.

Notepad Drama: Entry Number 3

02 November 2009

(Introduction to notepad Drama, aNG MgA eNTRy Dito Ay Mga ISinulaT ko NoOng NagTatRaBAho PA akO sA KolSeNtER sa LiBIs, NakAsAvE Ang Mga ITO sa aKing NotePad nOOn At Manu-Mano koNG KInopYA nunG NagReSayN Ako.)

Sa Paggapang ng mga ulap,

Sa Pag-iingat ng kulog na hindi magising ang kaluluwa sa purgatoryo ng pag-iisa

Sa Pagbabagong anyo ng apoy bilang kidlat.

Ako ay isang palakang naiwan sa latian.

Nagsasaya sa pawis ng langit,

Naghihintay ng kamatayang dala ng apoy na nagpapanggap na liwanag at susunog sa bawat patak ng dugo at laway sa aking katawan.

Gising tungo sa Bangungot

06 October 2009

Gising na yata ang mga mata ko sa dib-dib, isa isang tatanggalan ng muta, manu-manong bubuksan ang mga talukap. Oras na ng pagdungaw sa bangin, habang may hawak na payong at malakas ang hangin. Kailangan makita ng lahat ko ang bangin, at ang unti unting pagkahulog ng lupa patungo roon.

Sa paglalakad patungo sa bangin sinusugatan ako ng yelong lamig ng mga pinaslang, dulot ng pag aagawan sa iisang lupang pareho namang kanila, dulot ng pag aagawan sa mga bagay na kapwa hindi nila kailangan. Tumpok tumpok ng nabubulok na tao, namatay para sa rasong hindi katanggap tanggap sa mga mata sa aking dib-dib.

Sa paglalakad patungo sa bangin sinusunog ako ng apoy ng gutom at sakit, ng paghihirap at pagdurusa, ng mga alipin, mga biktima, mga sugatan, luhaan, at kapwa ko sinisilaban. Tumpok-tumpok ng nabubulok na buhay, tumataghoy sa mga bagay na pupwede namang hindi mangyari, sa mga sakit na sanay di na lang nadanas.

At Pagdating ko sa bangin idinungaw ko ang aking sugatang sunog na dib-dib, at pinamasid sa mga mata ko rito ang banging kumakain sa lupa, at habang ako'y nakadungaw, malakas ang hangin at may hawak na payong, paatras akong naglalakad na rin pagkat kinakain ang lupa kong kinatatayuan, isang banging parang bunganga ng impyerno, na lumalamon sa mundo. Habang sa paligid ko ang mga tao'y tinatapon ang isa't isa huwag lang mahulog. At tuwing lumalapit nang mapuno ang bangin ay lumalalim ito't lumalaki, tila nais gawing bangin ang buong mundo.

Tumpok-tumpok ng nabubulok na puso ang sumisingaw sa mundo, parang lason. Nagising ako sa bangungot ng tumpok tumpok na nabubulok na kung ano-ano, at pagising ko ang nakita ko'y ganung ganun pa rin. Bangungot ang mundo kong isinilangan.

How It's done

29 August 2009

I wake up.

I turn in bed, trying not to crush the cigarettes I always leave under my pillow, I check the time from my phone, I grab my wallet from inside my pillow. My towel, my dipper with all my toiletries, my blue slippers, all in that order, I go to the bathroom and bathe.

I am dressed.

I walk out to buy the usual, spanish bread, RC cola, smoke some left over cigarettes from yesterday, time to go.

I wait.

I wait until it is two hours before work before going to work, I wait and smoke and internet and walk around Quezon city. Quezon city is not flinching, Quezon city is fighting my mood with its life, its mechanical life, Quezon city cannot win with its MRTs and Buses and Jeeps and Malls and Buildings and Life.

I go to work,

All drained, all tired, all set up for a miserable day, expecting misery and stress and annoyance, I love hating this job, it drains me but reminds me of life, of my life, of a life for me.

I sleep,

I dream of how much I hate routine. And what a beautiful dream it is.

Even Spiderman worries about his Web.

15 August 2009

I'm at another computer shop, I hate computer shops, I hate it when other people are there when I'm trying to write. My mind gets easily distracted by other people typing away on their keyborads, people talking to the clerks at the counter, people chatting on-line, people coming and going, the annoying sounds of door chimes, keys, coins, plastic bags, seats being pulled and pushed and dropped and shit. It's a stupid, stupid place to be.

I hate work days, since mobile broadband in the Philippines suck like ant-eaters I can't use my laptop for internet, there's absolutely no point, it's friggin expensive and the coverage doesn't even cover half of UP Diliman, not even a quarter, or an eighth.

Look at me, I spend a great chunk of my self set allowance on internet connection, I live for the net, considering my schedule which gives me only one day of the week where I can go over to my buddies in UP so I don't have to go to the internet shops just to talk to them and have something to for the four hours (more or less) of free time I have

I want a Monday-Tuesday day-off schedule, I hate mondays in the office and I hate having to go to computer shops instead of actually talking to my buddies and annoying them in person, and the internet just isn't the same as when I stay on-line for 12 hours or so a day when its my day-off, I wanna use my own PC, not a stupid, generic, ad laden PC from netopia or Orange.

So there, got to log out now, my bill is running high.