There’s not much point in this article really, just a little power tripping maybe in trying to dominate the Google search rankings for San Lorenzo Ruiz Academy of Polomolok. And then there’s nostalgia.

The memory of me literally kissing the hallowed walls of SLRAP men’s toilet because some jerk-assed rich kid who wrote a few letters as a tribute to some bald economics teacher remains fresh in my mind to this day. Which was kinda vexing because when I visited the same toilet a few years ago, there was practically no space left to vandalize that I wondered whether the discipline of the school has relaxed or whether the current students there are simply uncontrollable. I don’t know which is which, and whether at present the same still applies.

I do know that back then, when I was studying there, vandalism was treated like the plague. Fine, this was the time of Magellan but still. Oh well, whatever.

I could still remember the time when the school had a different name. It was Jose L. Valencia Academy I think, and sometime during my stay there, the school got renamed to San Lorenzo Ruiz Academy of Polomolok. It wasn’t a very happy day for the alumni of Jose L. Valencia Academy for sure but there were no mass demonstrations that happened when the powers that be decided to change the name. Not unlike the protests that happened here in Manila when the Yuchengco group wanted to change the name of Mapua Institute to some other god-awful name which of course resulted to the school retaining it’s name.

It must have been hard for those who graduated under the Jose L Valencia Academy to realize that the four years they studied under that school have been completely erased, reduced to ignominy (sorry, I’m being cruel here). It must be terrible to attend a high school grand reunion and not see the original name of your school. Again, oh well.

Still, it’s nice to remember once in a while my old high school, all those silly hand-holdings behind the science lab, the legend of Ilyang and Tibor, the indomitable and forever-Miss Fajanela (gad, how we used to quarrel back then), and of course the eternal principal Mrs Lamboso (not sure if she’s still the principal now).

For sure I’ll be revisiting San Lorenzo Ruiz Academy of Polomolok one of these days, if only to remember that once upon a time, I was part of its shrieking and hysterical high school student body who once wholeheartedly believed that SLRAP is the greatest high school on the face of the earth. And you know what, it might well be– as far as SLRAPians (what an absurd monicker, lol) are concerned.

Anyway I saw a video of Haley singing King of Leon’s Use Somebody in an acoustic version and I thought she sounded really good. Unfortunately I think her version can’t quite capture the emotional range of the original. Which is only natural I think. It’s quite a feat to be able to sound better than the original especially more so in this case when it seems the song has been created only for the frontman of KoL.

If only one of my friends could read this, I would tell him that this is for him. Dude, you gotta stop feeling sorry for yourself, it’s fucking gay.

Having freed myself from my former life’s bondage, one would think that I would be eagerly jumping from one bus to another excited to see the world. That’s not what’s happening however. I have instead indulged myself in all those things that I’ve only been ‘stealing’ before. Those guilty pleasures that have kept me up all night and and were the cause of my perennial grogginess in the office.

I’m reading manga like crazy and re-discovering the joy of writing. Writing however has become a more multi-faceted tool in my case. I still write ‘stuff’, but I balance it out with err.. commercial activities. Whoever said that you can’t mix business with pleasure has a cork stuffed somewhere in the vicinity of his genitalia.

Back to Mondays. It’s a pretty amazing feeling to have a three-day weekend every time. Although I am no longer confined to hours and should not have a care in the world as to what time or what day of the week it is. I still like to keep an unofficial work week. Maybe it’s something that has been deeply ingrained but having my own peculiar work week allows me to schedule things. And lord knows I need to schedule things.

Nevetheless it’s pretty amazing how a stress free life feels. I wish everyone gets to experience this thing even for a short while. And just because I’ve banned Monday from my ‘work life’, here’s Hey Monday!

The acoustic version is more fantastic but youtube.com won’t allow it to be embedded. Boo. Still, check it out. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BnvxqiMiIcA

The SO has been worried about my health because I’ve been staying up very late everyday it’s almost like I’m only sleeping every other day. I’m not really doing anything in particular, well blogging, yeah, and some other personal projects. But the idea of sleeping only when I’m on the verge of collapsing is fucking awesome. You sleep dreamless sleeps and you sort of pass out the moment your head touches your pillow.

For almost 120 days now, I’ve been doing whatever it is I felt like doing interrupted only by the necessary errands ordered by she-who-must-be-obeyed. I’ve been fishing every weekend too which is really awesome by the way. Some folks fish to get away from the stress brought about by their daily work. But when you’re fishing and you don’t have any stress to speak of? Bliss man, absolute fucking bliss.

Sorry for the cussing. I don’t know why but when I was driving back home after one of those errands (haaay) I felt like cussing. I wasn’t angry or anything, perhaps I just felt like imitating one of my former mates who cusses like a pirate when he gets drunk. In english. Fuckin’ A. That’s what he likes to say.

Anyway, back to the song. Don’t you think it’s kinda sad when you’re only happy 3x a week? Not that such was the message of the song but in a lot of cases I know, even a thrice weekly happiness cycle is quite rare. People are mostly miserable. Shit, when I was working I was miserable 5x a week. True I got more money then than things to buy (wahaha) but it couldn’t buy me any frigging happiness. I still felt miserable every single day.

Oh well, no need to take that bus.

It would be horrifying to be a fish I think. Although that’s always been the natural order of things. The food chain if you will. Nature has designed this predator-prey system so the strong can prey upon the weak. Natures intention however was for the strong to be able to eat the weak although it frowns on same species feasting.

I thus find it reprehensible that men would hunt or fish for sport. Even more reprehensible are those catch-and-release fishing variety. For fuck’s sake man, if you’re gonna catch fish, then dammit eat the fucking thing! Unless there’s really a compelling reason why you have to release it.

Oh well, man is a vicious being and sometimes getting an explanation on some of the barbaric things that men do can be futile.

In my case, the life of the fishes I’ve taken nourished a few friend’s stomachs, although I can’t get myself to partake of the food they’ve become. Looking at the now grilled fishes, I can still see them squirming while life exited slowly from their gills.

What can one really say to that? Sorry?

I am once again sleep-deprived because of my absurd fear of missing my flight. I’m going to ruin another perfectly normal day just because of this neurosis. Whatever.

Having been land-locked (make that bed-locked) for more than a week now, I feel like I’ve retreated into myself even more. Going outside the house for example makes me nauseate. I was looking around SM the other day and I felt dizzy looking at the sky. Maybe the concept of a distant horizon is beginning to become a real threat to my bedroom existence.

After my ‘divorce’ I went home to the province and stayed there, drowning among hopeless relatives and friends, for almost two weeks. True, I barely have two coins to rub against each other but somehow I felt lighter, happier even. Days went faster but were very enjoyable. Even bringing my dad to the market for some ‘native’ breakfast was most satisfying.

When I came back to the big bad city a couple of days ago, I almost got depressed. I missed the smiling faces of those guys whose immediate problem was where to source the next meal. Not deadlines, or reviews, or appraisals. Meals. And they’re not stressed about it. The idea of me bellyaching at Starbucks sipping my P130 latte seemed like a cruel insult. A cruel joke. Here you have shiny happy people who must use their wits to scrounge for the next meal and… gah. Human misery, life’s unfair, Dickensian, take your pick. It’s a fucked up universe.

I’ve finally turned back the clock. I am sleeping like a normal human being now. Awake when I’m supposed to be awake, and asleep when I’m supposed to be asleep. Oh god, lead me to the slaughterhouse and butcher me whole. But this is boring! Happy perhaps, but boring like hell!

In a few hours I’ll be going back to the province to spend the lenten season there. Who am I kidding though? I’ll most definitely use all of that downtime playing mahjong with my titas and titos. Fun.

But anyway. It’s lent. A little sacrifice wouldn’t hurt.

- Discovered another interesting show yesterday and man I may have to do a lot of watching this week. Which means work’s gonna suck really bad.

- Andrew Garcia just couldn’t help but take a huge swing. Foul ball! Dang, it seemed like he was really reaching. Stupid assed choice of song. He needs a song adviser, fast.

- The new ride is really sweet.

- Fuck I’m hungry. It’s 530 in the morning and all I have is a bag of Lays.

- WTF Noynoy? Why’d you have to go and kiss Quiboluy’s ass. Fricking turnoff. And I thought he’d act more like a worthy son to Cory and Ninoy. Quiboluy is one sick mother. And the wannabe bastard just had to grovel for votes. Argh!

- It’s the calm before the storm. Hell week is once again upon us. Holy Molly.

- After hell week, the future is so blinding that I have no frigging idea what’s gonna happen to me. Oh well. Maybe I’ll practice jumping off a bridge.

- Sick. Sick. Sick.

I hate to break this to you boys and girls, but the reality is, most of the time, we are never good enough, never talented enough, and 99% of the time not good looking enough to be able to get to where it is we believe we should be. The world is a hard, unforgiving place, and you can bust your ass off working for whatever it is you want to achieve, and most of the time, at the end of the day, you end up just like that—a guy with a busted ass.

But that doesn’t mean we should give up. Although giving up is one tempting motherfodder, and there’s actually nothing wrong with it. Not everyone can be an overachiever. There has to be a bunch of losers lying around so the victor can fully fathom the meaning of his victory.

But on to never giving up. It is quite heroic, romantic even, to hold on to what we believe; to walk through fire, to die trying just to get what we want. And lets say we do get what we want after all the hardships and tribulations that we had to go through. In the end, is it really worth it? All those sleepless nights, the silent tears, the estranged relationships. Is it all worth it?

That question is even extraordinary even if you’re just asked it, because by then it pre-supposes that you have succeeded. But really is it worth it?

I am of the mind that it may be better to just give up, retool our compass, seek out a less-punishing approach, enjoy life, and if we turn out to be successful in whichever endeavour we have reinvented ourselves to follow, then that would just be icing on the cake. But no, some folks would rather suffer immeasurable damage just to arrive at the same outcome. It seems a lot of folks are more masochistic than we think. Blood, sweat and tears for success; that is quite the more popular thinking nowadays.

Anyway, have a go at it. Knock yourself out. You never know. You might just be a bigger loser than most of us.

Of course I’m drunk, again. Otherwise how can I come up with something like this?

I just moved more than 200 articles by hand. That’s no mean feat. My right hand is numb from clicking.

If you’re seeing this, please feel free to dash the entries to pieces.

Mga Awit ng Galit, Pag-ibig, At Iba Pang Uri ng Panghihinayang