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.)

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.

Textual Photography

11 August 2010

(Around a month or two ago I was introduced to Michael David Murphy's unphotographable.com and his concept of photography using words. I tried it out on my own, and it's pretty cool and useful as an exercise especially for describing settings in fiction and non-fiction and in detailing panels to an artist in comic book writing, here are some of what I came up with.)

This is a picture I did not take of a girl walking in the middle of the street as a light drizzle falls from the night sky. The curving street was lined and illuminated by deep yellow light from street lamp after street lamp. Her face glows at is passes the each lamp post, her hair sways with the falling leaves, and perhaps in recognition of the humming music of wind and drizzle to the asphalt, she twirls at the balls of her feet.

This is a picture I did not take of a boy checking his cellphone with his back turned to the bulletin board of Palma Hall Lobby at the University of the Philippines. His yellow shirt drooping over his shoulders and his jeans spilling on his white sneakers, his backpack hanging heavily on one shoulder, his glasses reflect the flourescent bulbs of the Palma Hall Lobby, masking his eyes. Behind him is a recruitment poster of some student org, featuring lovers holding hands.

This is a picture I did not take of a cockroach inside my black canvas school bag. Which I found on my yellow notebook as I pulled it out before my Creative Writing class starts. Smaller than the average roach and not the usual brown color, it's abdomen was striped black and white. It's head tilted towards me as I stared back at it, not with disgust, not with surprise, not with fear, but a mutual amazement.

You Were Crying

07 August 2010

I had a dream sometime back, I don't remember much of it now.

Just the bits, Just some pieces.

It was a vacation outing of sorts in a place that looked very much like the one they went to at that teen movie, TRIP, I think it's called. It was the gang, the usual bunch, there we're many of us.

You were crying, sitting in some deck of sorts, with wooden planks for a floor. You were scared, I think, or maybe your mom called and told you bad news, I can't remember.

I promised you I'll be there, I said I always have been, I asked you to let me hold you forever.

You and me became us, we were happy, you smiled at me over your shoulder as you led me to the pier to watch the sunset. I tied balloons to cat tails so you can pop them with your blow gun as the cats chased mechanical rats. I arranged your closet for you, you fixed my apartment door.

I was holding you in my arms as we sit at the Sunken Garden in my dreams when I awoke, My laptop left open in front of me.

I had a dream sometime back, and some more before that.

I had a dream some time back, I still do.

Dreams of the City

01 June 2010

(I have always believed that when in a writing rut you should just read some stuff and then write poetry, it wouldn't matter if it's any good, just get to writing. Once you have written one the rut will lift. My apologies to Neil Gaiman and the poem inside the story "Goldfish Pool and Other Stories".)

I am thinking of the city at night,

A theatre of no spectacle,

Shoved by the concrete lights

 

Seeing angels fearing flight,

Dreams of me, an imbecile,

I dream of the city tonight.

 

A sphere, an orb, a silver kite

In the hazy eyes of myself

I dream of the city at night.

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.

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?

The Drifting Away/Brotherhood/Half the Pun

26 August 2009

The drifting away of a friend is a sad thing.

I don't know what happened, it seemed we jsut led two live too different. Sad as the truth is it shall be this truth that is the truth for this point of view, this point of view is to the passt, and nothing can change the past, it is what it is. A very peculiar history we had, a past for the history books.

It is also true that we had become friends, he became a guy I shared cigarettes and stories with, we had our laughs and out truths and he was a friend in a category no friend of mine has ever fallen into, but he was real, he was there, like a brother I was supposed to have in the first place.

He had his girl, I had my confused little ramblings about every girl that exists, we shared those stories. Perhaps much more to my expense than his, but I didn't care, we are friends, friends don't care about that shit. I even appreciated that his girl considers me some sort of expert in her boyfriend's personality, truth is I know him just as much as a man can tell why another man is acting like he is, we both had a chromosome that women didn't, that's it. We knew only what we wanted the other to know, perhaps he knew more about than I did about him simply because of how much he is aware of what he reveals of himself, but I was fine with that, that was more than enough to be a friend.

(Who drifted? Was it I? Because a drifting did happen, perhaps I was drowned by the sudden surge of new people that I learned to share similar things we shared, perhaps overwhelmed by the fact that it wasn't just our little gang of fools, but a bigger gang of fools. Perhaps I have become part of the whirpool while he had clung to a piece of driftwood, maybe I just didn't notice, and he just didn't want to make me notice.)

Now I know, now I know what I don't know, who I don't know, I don't know him, my friend and brother, I never did. He had always led alife different from mine and now we had took paths too skewed from the others. maybe our friendship was just a crossroad, a joining path, only to split again. We may not always be friends, but since the day brotherhood has begun, he will always be the brother that I do not share blood with.

Ctrl + Alt + Down Arrow

13 July 2009

(Inaapropriate ba yung blog title? Wala, ganyan ang mundo ko ngayon, and I like it. Alam n'yo namang pag ganito ka walang kwenta at di pinag-isipan ang blog ko, malamang wala lang ako ma-blog. )

Pana-Ginaw

Dinudungaw ka ng mga mata kong pang dilim,

Ang Buwan ay niyayakap ng usok

na tumatabing sa mga bituin

Mulat pa ang mga mata'y naghihimbing na

sa iyong mga kamay.

Pinatutulog mo ako,

Dahil di makapaniwala ang isip

na hindi ka isang panaginip.

Nilulunod ng iyong kislap

Ang pag-iisa

Giniginaw ako sa init ng iyong kamay

Inaagaw mo ang aking puso

Kahit hindi ka malay

Nagagawa mo.

Makasa-Atin

21 June 2009

1

And damuhan sa umaga

Ay hindi naiiba

sa ating mga matang basa ng mga luha

Isang madaling araw sa nakaraan.

2

Ako ay hubad tulad ni Oble,

hubad, walang ni ano mang bahid

Ng Pagkahuwad

sa iyong mata.

3

Sama-sama tayong mag-isa

sama-sama tayong mag-isa

ulit-ulitin mo ulit,

ulit-ulitin mo ulit,

4

Sundan mo ang ilaw sa UP pag Gabi

Hanggang sa makita mo

ang sarili mong anino hinahabol ang likuran mo.

5

Nalulunod sa usok ng sariling sigarilyo

Ang estyudanteng nakaupo sa waiting shed,

Naghihintay.

Mga Matitinding Pagsubok sa Buhay Series: Pagpili Ng Brief

01 June 2009

Akala mo ba madali? Malaking event sa buhay ko tuwing pipili ako ng brief na isusuot ko.

Nakakategorya ang mga brief sa tatlo; Briefs, boxer briefs, at boxers.

Sa ilalim ng Briefs ay nanduon ang Black, Gray, at Blue na comfortable briefs at ang traditional Tighty-Whities (self-explanatory na siguro kung bakit ganun ang nickname nun). Ang Tighty-Whitie ang pinaka marami kong brief. At meron talaga akong isang pulang brief, for special occasions.

Sa ilalim ng Boxer Briefs ay nanduon ang Black (dalawa lang ang Boxer Brief ko na black), at ang mga Puti (tatlo lang ata yung ganito ko). Sa hindi nakaka-alam ang boxer brief ay brief na mahaba, yung tipong lalagpas naman sa singit.

Sa Boxers naman ay mas madali ang classes, hindi by kulay kundi by quality, yung butas at yung hindi butas. Pare-pareho naman kasing Checkered ang Boxers ko, iba-iba lang kulay, although may isa akong Scooby-doo na boxers.

Okey, ang pinaka komportable sa lahat ay ang mga Boxer Briefs, sa kasamaang palad, kakaunti lang ang ganito ko, madalas kasi ay hindi ko mahanap sa kalaliman ng mala-ukay-ukay kong kabinet. Ganoon pa man, may isang itim na boxer brief na hindi ko isusuot unless wala talagang ibang boxer briefs na mamataan. Hindi kasi ito komportable at nagiipit ang legs ko, pumipilipit hanggang singit, it's a wrong.

Sumunod ay ang Briefs, mas madalas ako mag-brief kesa kahit ano pa man kasi yun ang pinaka madaling makita. Safe-option kumbaga, okey lang, at lumawlaw man ang pantalon ko okey lang kasi normally yung dark colors na brief ang suot ko.Nag-susuot lang ako ng puti kapag wala akong choice (tinamad ako maglaba) o naka-maong naman ako at sigurado akong hindi lalawlaw.

Ayoko talaga ng boxers, dati nung hayskul gusto ko yung boxers pero ngayon ayoko na. Feeling ko nakahubo ako at kumakalembang ang mga bayag ko. Nararamdaman ko din pag pinagpapawisan na ako duon. Hindi naman ako kasi ang bumili ng boxers ko, binili lang ng family.

Meron yan, special considerations for special events, meron din akong lucky underwear, yung gray ko na boxer briefs (na nawawala), hindi ko na ginagamit kasi nabutas dahil sa zonrox.

Mahabang usapan pa ito, pero mula naman siguro d'yan, mapapansin n'yo na pinag-iisipan ko talaga ang bawat bagay na gagawin ko sa buhay ko, hanggang sa brief.

Hanapan Batman

17 May 2009

(ginawa ko ito para sa Arkiyoloji 1, Salamat sa insipirasyon at kaalaman Prof. Paz)

 

Dahil nasa Quezon City Tayo: Ang Huling Icon

Nagpunta ako ng National Museum, nag-ikot ikot at naghanap ng kainspire-inspire na mga bagay. Syanga at napakaraming nakamamangha, nakaliligalig at ‘di kapanipaniwalang bagay sa loob ng museo, ngunit sa kasamaang palad wala sa milyun-milyong ideyang nabuo ko sa aking pag-iikot iikot ang aking huling sanaysay, ito’y isang huling pagtatangka na sa wakas makuha na ang pag gamit ng mga material na bagay bilang icon, yun lang naman siguro ang epekto ng pagsesenti kong ginawa habang nag-iisang nakatanga sa Luneta.

Ano ang bente? Sa Pilipinong konteksto, ito ay katumbas ng dalawampu, pero kadalasan ay ginagamit ang salitang ‘bente’ para tumukoy sa halagang dalawampung piso, sa bente pesos, sa papel na kahel na may mukha ni Manuel.  Ang perang ito ang pinakamaliit na na halagang pera na nasa papel pa, iyan ay kung di mo na binibilang yung mangilan-ngilang sampung pisong papel na nag-eexist pa. Hindi na siguro nalalayo ang panahon na pagkakasyahin na din ang mukha ni Manuel Quezon sa barya, magiging sideview pa, at mawawalan na ng basehan ang darating na kabataan sa kung ano ba ang itsura ng tinitirahan ng president nila. Sabi ay sinasabay lang naman ang pera sa buying power nito, aba, malakas pa ang buying power ng bente, sa tingin ko hangga’t sapat ka pa para pambili ng pananghalian ay ‘di ka pa pwede maging barya.

Bakit nga ba may mukha ang mga pera? Tulad din ba ito ng ginagawa ng mga illustrado na marka nila ng antas nila sa lipunan kaya naipapapinta na ang sarili? Oo at hindi, oo dahil tulad ng mga ilustrado mga matataas ang antas nila sa lipunan natin, politikal man o moral o, huwad man o tunay. Hindi dahil hindi naman nila pinili ipapinta ang sarili sa pera, bukod sa kaso ng dalawangdaang piso ang nag-iisang pera sa Pilipinas na nakapinta dun ang kasalukuyang presidente, ‘yun, malamang vanity nga ‘yun. Pininta sila dun, ginawa silang mascot ng pera dahil tingin ng lipunan (o ng Bangko Sentral) na importante sila, ilagay sa pedestal, importante ka, ilagay ka sa pera.

Sino ba talaga ang namimili kung sino ang importante? Lipunan ba? Ang mamamayan ba? Importante daw na matuto ang mga kabataan ng Ingles, importante nga ba? Siguro dahil ang natitira na lang na trabaho sa Pilipinas ay call center agent at pagiging OFW (na hindi naman pala trabaho sa Pilipinas) kaya importante, pero dahil kulang-kulang sa kalahati ng populasyon sa Pilipinas ay agrikultural pa rin ang pamumuhay, iniinglis mo pa ba talaga ang tindero ng abono? Sa mata siguro ng madaming Pilipino na wala sa Metro Manila ay hindi na nila kailangan ng Ingles para mabuhay, at yun na lang naman ang gusto ng lahat mang yari ‘di ba? Ang mabuhay.

 Pagkain, Tirahan, at Pananamit kadalasan ang pinaka-simple sa mga pangangailangan ng tao para mabuhay na binabanggit sa TV, kailangan daw ito ng mga evacuees, kaya ipadala natin sa estasyon nila tapos ipapadala naman nila sa kung saan mang sulok ng Pilipinas na ngayon mo lang nalaman na may ganoon palang lugar. Sa pag-usad ng panahon ay nagkakaroon na din ng mga dibersyon sa kung ano ba ang magiging kasali sa listahan ng mga basic needs, halimbawa, basic need na ang TV sa bahay, kailangan mo ng TV, pag wala kang TV mabuburyong ka at magiging gulay, kailangan mong mapanood si Willie Revillame (o ang TVJ, bahala ka kung alin gusto mo) habang nanananghalian ka. Naging basic need na din ang Selpon, kailangan mo ng selpon dahil biglang nagkaroon ng pangangailangan yung mga kamag-anak mo sa malayong lupalop na makausap ka. Basic need din naman ang maligo, mas simple pa ito sa TV at selpon, kung hindi ka naniniwala na basic need ang paliligo, tangkain mong huwag maligo ng matagal-tagal, magsusumigaw na ang mga skin cells mo ng “maligo ka na, maligo ka naaaaa...” . Ito, itong mga umuunlad na bagay na nagiging pangangailangan kahit hindi naman talaga (pwede ka naman mabuhay ng ‘di ka naliligo, makakapatay ka nga lang ng kapwa mo) ay ang importanteng pinipili ng mamamayan, ito yung sa tingin ng populasyon ay may mga kwentang bagay.

May karapatan nga ba tayong pumili para sa sarili natin?

 

Colors/Firefly/Vanilla/Methapor

10 May 2009

I am a gray spot in a pastel room,

You are the colors that murder my gloom.

I am the withered leaf that dies on the grass.

You are the grass.

 

I am a brick on the edge of a cliff,

Waiting for you to give me a kick.

You are a firefly in a glass jar,

I am the stone that will break it.

 

You are the train that leaves at dawn,

I am the passenger that wakes up at noon.

I am the vanilla flavored ice cream,

You are the chocolate loving kid.

 

You are the coach, scouting for youth,

I am the bench player you never see play.

You are book of poetry, on beauty and love.

I am the metaphor.

You have a Cruel way of saying Shut-Up

01 February 2009

(I am sorry, this might offend you, embarass you, or piss you off, as much as the others have, so don't read it if you just wish you haven't)

You could have told me to shut-up, I mean really tell me, actually tell me, say it in words, but you just had to do that, that, you know what that is. Now I can't shut-up, now I just have to keep writing until somebody cuts my fingers of.

Does it offend you that somebody likes you? Does it offend you that I am not courageous enough to tell you that I like you, I like you so much I might actually love you but refuse to say so just because I don't know what it means to love? Then you could've PMed me or something, IMed me or something, slapped me in the face or something like that! You just took the words out of the air, please just slap me instead.

I know I don't exactly have to right to say anything about not directly saying what's meant to say, I haven't told you anything, never mentioned nothing, and when I finally tried to say something a little bit closer to it than what I've done, now I don't know if I pissed you off or if you don't want others to know about it then I start thinking what's the point of me doing all this? I'm not confident enough to say it to you in person and I admit that and I'm too stupid not to put it in my blog because this damn thing is the only thing that I can pretend actually listens to me when I rant like this.

Now I can't even go on ranting like this, I like you too much to rant any more than I already have, I am sorry, but next time I see you, I will have to quit shutting up my blood, I can't live like this anymore.

PUGITA!

26 November 2008

Minsan may pugita,

Kulay abo at malaki,

Ang ulo n'ya parang sa tao,

Pero ang mata niya'y iisa,

At wala s'yang tenga.

 

Minsan may isang pugita,

Katulad din ng iba,

Walo ang galamay na malaki,

Nag-mumultitask parati,

Sabay-sabay ang ginagawa,

Lagi pang tuwang-tuwa.

 

Minsan may malaking Octopus,

Octopus na parang tao,

Kinain n'ya ako,

Palakpak ang tenga ko.

Please Read, Badly Needing Advice: On my Grades, my Life, and Love

31 October 2008

(bear the first two paragraphs, I wrote them when I was still in a terrible mood, if you can't bear them then just skip to the fourth paragraph)

I hate my life, and here I go ranting about what a pathetic life I have and then people would say "No Ernie, you don't have a pathetic life!" or "Look, some lives are worse than yours." I say fuck off, I'm pissed at myself and am very much willing to be pissed at right about anyone else too, so give me a goddamn break. And yeah, I expect people to read this shit and I don't care if I end up insulting them while reading it. Look at this way, people of the blue earth, this damn thing would be a worse insult to myself than it would be to you. No, I won't calm down, and all you voices in my head can shut up too.

I have a pathetic life, I just said that, I know I did, and now I'm gonna start explaining why so that's why I said it again. My grades suck, suck badly, its like I'm not in school, and its true, I go to school barely going to school and I go there just to have fun, and I see it as good thing now because otherwise I'd be out of school a year ago if I didn't have fun at school. I'd be so much a blooming loser now if I'm not going to school, I'd probably be dead now if I wasn't in school, and the thing that rates how good you are at school says I suck at school, I hate grades. I always say I don't care about my grades, well I was lying, I do, I'm just used to not having to worry about them because I get good grades anyway that now I'm pissed of that I can't get grades my way. But I'm in a fucking school, its gotta be their way, fuck that.

If you've haven't noticed I used fuck a couple of times, well I don't fuck-off like this unless I'm really pissed and it aint just pissed-pissed, it's sad-pissed, I hate being sad, it pisses me off. Its just that I can't get a job and I feel so fucking strangled at home. I can't move, I can't do stuff my way, and even if my way doesn't always work I can't work or see myself doing stuff any other way, I like my way, my way is ambitious and cool. I don't want to live a boring life now I feel like I'm not living a life at all if its a boring life.

And there's this love thing, I think I'm fucking in love, and I use 'fucking' as an adjective there. The problem is I don't if its real or I'm just fooling with my own head, maybe all this talk about myself being so fucking pathetic make me feel so desperate that I just search for love everywhere. I hate it, I'm fucking embarassed by it, I like this girl bad, so bad, I don't know what to call it, I hate calling it love, I hate that word. And I like this other girl too and she somebody I've been with a bit longer. And to add to this confusion there's this girl hanging around, and I don't know what she's about, she's been there for a long time but I've been noticing she's been a bit different as if she's trying to say something. I don't know, this stuff is just coming back and it doesn't help that this feels too highschool to me, I'm embarassed blogging all this, really, I am.

I don't know, I'm such a coward, maybe I need counseling. But just the thought of getting counseling is troubling me, I mean, with all the chains I'm in, will I be allowed to? Will they understand? Who will understand? Those who chain me are those who've been with me for a longer time, those who me know since I was a kid, and I'm thinking, what if they're right? What if I am a pathetic guy, what if all that she says when she gives me a sermon are true. I mean, I know some of them are true, but what if I am going nowhere, what if I am a really bad person.

And then there's the Questions I ask to myself, what if I am not fit for school, what if I get kicked-out, what if I'm not a great writer, what if this is as good as I get, what if my friends won't be there forever, what if I disappoint everyone, my mom, my family, my friends, myself, and even my dad's legacy?

What if I don't deserve to be Loved?

Talk to me, give me words, whatever, insult me, provoke me, hate me, help me, just talk to me. Thank you for bearing this with me. AMEN to all who read this all, if there are gods, may they bless your souls.

ZORRO: Last Part ng Kom2 paper ko Tungkol kay Dennis Magtajas

15 September 2008

Si Zorro, isang lalaking pinili mag maskara kaysa iharap ang sariling mukha sa lipunang kanyang ginagalawan. Piniling maging bayani at tagapagtanggol ng mga taong nakikita siya bilang api at kawawa. Hindi nagawa ng pananaliksik na tanggalin ang maskara niya, nagawa lamang nating talagang tignan si Zorro, si Dennis, at hindi lang basta daanan ng mga mata.

Hindi ba ang kanyang mismong kwento, kilos, anyo ay metapora na ng parehong kinang at dungis ng lipunan natin sa UP? Ang watawat na suot bagamat bawal na metapora ng nasyonalismong militante na mayroon ang aktibistang taga-UP, suot niya sa bawat minutong naaalala natin sa kanya. Ang dungis n’ya at dunong na tila nagiging simbulo ng mag-aaral na may dunong ngunit tinatago sa civilian clothing na parang wala lang at tsinelas na pinanglalakad sa kalakhan ng kampus, nangingitim na sa araw sa ngalan ng pag-aaral. Ang pagtakbo n’ya sa isang oval na tila sumasalamin sa pag-uulit-ulit ng buhay estyudante, na sa dulo ay pipilas ka din sa pag-ikot sa oval at dadaan na sa ibang daan.

Hindi naman yata talaga kelangan mahubad ang maskara ni Zorro, wala rin namang kakayahan o karapatan ang mananaliksik na sagutin ang tanong na “bakit s’ya ganoon?”. Pero tagumpay pa rin sa pinaka silbi ng papel na ito, ang mabigyang pangalan ang mukha na lagi nakatago, at ang tao sa likod ng maskara.

estongdakila's Sleeping Disorder

25 August 2008

Ok, its not really a disorder, its just that I'm not used to sleeping in the same room with other people anymore.

Somebody is gonna suddenly turn on the lights to turn in at 2 am...

Somebody is gonna lift your arm to grab a pillow or someting...

Somebody is start flipping the pages of your magazines and intentionally wake you up with the sound.

Somebody is gonna share your TV, your PS2, your bed, your pillows, your blanket, with you.

Somebody will keep the lights on because he's more afraid of the dark than you are.

Somebody is back.

I don't know how long he'll be back but he's back.

I hope he doesn't stay long.

I haven't gotten over the unpleasant homicidal tendencies.

Para sa Nag-iisa

18 August 2008

Ikaw na nag-iisa, huwag kang tutungo sapagkat nakakahawa ang lungkot mo, hindi ikaw ang may hawak ng lungkot habambuhay, sa lungkot mo'y magmumula ang lungkot ko. Huwag ka nang mag-isa at sumama ka sa akin.

Sinong umiwan sa iyo? Ako ba? Ngunit ngayon lang kita nakita, paano ko iiwan ang hindi ko pa nakakasama? Pero nais ko sanang makasama ka. Kung iniwan man kita bagamat ngayon lang kita nakita, hindi ko na gagawin iyon muli.

Ikaw na nag-iisa, at ako rin na nag-iisa. Tayong dalawang nag-iisa, nag-iisa pa ba? Mag-isa ka man d'yan at mag-isa man ako dito dalawa parin tayong nag-iisa. Magkita nga tayo sa gitna at magkasamang mag-isa, o maging isa, bahala ka.

Lampara

17 August 2008

alternate title: Brotherly Love

 

Straight to the point; Sobrang husay ko bang kaibigan na hindi na ako maka-hirit ng mas mataas pa dun? Hindi ko sinasabing mahusay akong kaibiga, ang sinasabi ko e mahusay ako maging kaibigan, magpaka-kaibigan, ganun, at least ganun ang tingin ko. Parang, uh, ideal ba talaga ako sa pagiging kaibigan kaya hindi ako ma-promote? Kumbaga e perfect ako sa pagiging karpintero kaya hindi ako maging, uh, electrician, tek.

(eto nanaman yung mga tek)

Tek, baka naman sa kaibigan lang talaga ako qualified. Per, tek, madalas na masyado na masyado nangyayari ang tulad nito; nauunsyaming application for promotion dahil sa 'brotherly love'. You know what I'm talking about, mayroon ang akong iisang rule at lagi na lang lumalabas ang pangangailangan sumunod sa rule na 'yon. Bakit, bakit ba Lord, bakit nila ako tinatawag na kuya?

Okey, na-realize ko na ang flaws ng rule, hindi naman nila ako tinatawag na 'kuya' for the same reasons. Pero kahit ganun, among the highly plausible reasons na tinatawag nila akong 'kuya' least among them are reasons that are actually good for my. uh. promotion. Another flaw is that people's words do not always reflect how they feel, unfortunately most of these instances I had indicated that the using of 'kuya' is a very concious effort in the past of the speaker and does not imply a Freudian defense mechanism (baka defense mechanism laban sa akin, hwehehehe).

Sa mga nagkaka-ideya na ng dahilan kung bakit ko naisulat ito, sasbihin ko na sa inyong hindi lamang isang pangyayari (na napakalapit sa katotohanan) ang dahilan ng blog na ito. Isa itong pagsasanib-sanib ng lahat ng mga pangyayaring similar na umuugat pa sa munting pangyayari nuong unang panahon na naging dahilan ng pag buo ko sa 'the rule' in the first place.

 

Shit, napaka pathetic ko ngayon.