Have you had those days? When you’re walking around and feeling like you don’t have full control of your facilities? Like all your reflexes are gone and even taking a fart feels like in slow motion?

That certainly seems to be the order for me this week, and hopefully in the next two weeks as well. Yay! Life is great. Not. At least not for November. I hate this year’s November. I want to bend it over and stick a pole up its ass. Too graphic for ya Mr. Prude? I don’t care, really.

This week my combined number of hours sleep is 15. Yes, 1 and 5. That should be enough to send a cow to retirement but due to my god-given stamina and cans and cans of rockstar, bacchus, ion, and sachets of extra joss, I am still standing. Not exactly standing still but who cares right? The important thing is that I’m still here and the week is almost over. About 7 hours more and I should be driving home. The remaining obstacle is the drive home. I’ll be driving as if I’m riding a hovercraft. That’s how wired I am.

And there’s that small matter of the fork that’s stuck on my nape. How does one pull that out? I’ve had several BP exams and I’ve never been categorized as having a high BP. I attribute that to years and years of baking under the sun, playing tennis, and hubris. When you believe you’re indestructible, high BP is the least of your concerns. In fact, the positive attitude alone (hubris can’t be anything but positive, right?) assures one of normal blood pressure. Still, it would be awesome if there’s some drug that you can take that will literally make you experience the feeling of that fork slowly being pulled out of your nape. Goodness, what an idea. And I haven’t even smoked that pot I’ve been hiding.

It’s already 9 in the morning and I’m still awake. I should have been sleeping now but a deal I’ve been working on keeps me tossing and turning in bed. After almost an hour of trying fruitlessly to go to la-la-land, I finally gave up and sat in front of my computer. Yes, this computer. The first order of business is to read manga. I was careful not to give in to the temptation of opening one of those nasty sites as I might not be able to keep myself in check and might actually go blind, proving those myth-spewing pervs correct.

After finishing the latest chapters of Bambino, Toriko, Holyland, Kimi Nu Iru Machi, and some other titles I forgot, I was stuck with watching or at least trying to watch the latest episode of Skins, that series that has British college kids popping pills, smoking like chimneys, and fornicating like rabbits. Dammit, I wanna be a Brit! Heh.

After Megavideo chided me for watching more than 72 minutes of free video and stopping what I’m watching right before the guy was about to take off a yummy little girl’s lace brassieres (fuckng KJ those guys), I decided to open up this starved-for-attention blog and see if there are some comments I should approve. I was shocked to see it had almost a thousand pending comments! I didn’t realize that this blog was THAT popular! I started reading the comments and was flattered to see people complementing me for what a nice blog I have. Only to realize that the complements were repeated over and over again by different folks! Blasted spam commenters. Another spam commenter assured me that he has the secret to make my penis 4 inches longer! Whoa, that’s like a 175% increase! Somebody else was selling viagra, the other one Cialis and there’s even a guy who guaranteed to high heavens that if I would only buy his plug-in I would automatically start earning $5000, a day. Rrrrright.

There were a couple of comments though so I approved them and went back to deleting more than 800 comments. It’s unbelievable that people would actually spend money buying spam commenting tools. I guess there are those who don’t moderate their blog’s comments. I’m not one of those guys though, and I would rather shut down this lame blog than approve a comment from somebody who calls himself oakley sunglasses.

SLRAP Reunion

One of the legitimate comments however was in reply to that awful post about my memories of SLRAP. Which only reminded me that less than two months from now, my batch will have our reunion. Now high school reunions, especially my high school reunion is something that I really look forward to. If only for the simple reason that we seem to do it only once in ten years. So if a classmate died after a reunion, it would be nine years after that I would get wind of it. Well maybe that’s a far-fetched idea. Not with the age of Facebook, Twitter, and cellphones.

Going back to my reunion though, I’m particularly psyched with this year’s edition. Not so much about the reunion per se because honestly, it would be a resounding success if there were 20 people in it. Our batch reunion is like that. Somehow my classmates do their damnedest to make themselves scarce during that time. I don’t know why. The reason that I’m stoked this year is because I’m gonna be taking a road trip from where I’m staying right now to Polomolok. Yep hundreds of kilometers of fun driving! And if things fall according to plan, I’ll be driving a huge gas-guzzler of an SUV. Heh, the thought just warms my evil, black heart.

When I was younger, younger than my current 18 years of age (don’t argue), reunions were all about trying to hook up with my high school crushes that I was too torpe to make diga during high school. I had dreamt of slithering over to them, pawing them when chance presents itself and impregnate them if I can. Of course things work out really well when you’re imagining them. They never do in real life.

Now that I’m a little bit older, a little bit wiser, it’s all about impressing everyone with how much I’ve progressed in life, which is to say– not very far, if I really think about it. It gets much worse when I compare myself with how others have fared. I guess this is the same thought process that some of my classmates, those who chose to ignore our reunion, went through. Some of them may have thought that they’re not attending because they haven’t really made a name for themselves. Which is a bit sad really considering that we could all die without any warning, and not seeing those people who we shared tears and laughters with way back in high school would be very sad.

True, some classmates may now have better stations in life, but still, once upon a time, we were all just students of the same high school and had to go through all the hassles and euphoria of growing up. Oh well, it’s a bit sad really.

Ok, I think I’ll be able to sleep now.

I wonder what makes people post negative statuses in Facebook? Yep statuses is a word so don’t bother complaining. I don’t mean the ‘He is so ugly!’ kind of negativity, I meant those statuses that say ‘Why is it always me?’. Yeah, those updates that scream please, pity me! I mean why in God’s green earth would you want people to pity you? Why would one want to be pitied? Is it just lack of attention? Affection? Did your momma drop you when you were a kid?

It’s bizaare, really. And some of the folks that I see in my Facebook account weren’t doing it just for kicks. As in almost everyday, almost every status update is all about ‘poor little me’. Gad, what’s the big fucking deal? So you got the shorter end of the stick, big whoop! Now get over it already. Don’t go announcing to the entire Facebook universe what a pitiable little puppy you are.

Lately out of pure exasperation, I just identify these nega people and hide all their updates. That way all their negative vibes don’t effect my happy little world. I would have loved to post this piece as an update in my facebook account but then again I like to keep that part of my life as happy as possible so this rant will just have to die its slow death here.

Anyway, if you’re a member of the Facebook Bleeding Hearts Club, here are a few reminders.

1. Life is too short. Choose to be happy. People are doing their damnedest to be happy. Your posting negative status updates is just not helping.

2. If you’re unhappy, call a friend, grab a beer, get drunk, then sleep it off. Do you really need to unload it on Facebook?

3. We don’t care about your problems! Well maybe we do, but not all the time. Jesus H Christ we do have problems of our own as well. But we don’t bitch about it on Facebook!

4. Moaning about your problems on Facebook just makes you look pathetic.

5. For fuck’s sake enough already.

Back to not sleeping mode. I haven’t been sleeping very well this past few days. I think when I’m confronted with too much time on my hands, I overdo things and get really engrossed with whatever it is I’m doing. Well mostly it’s internet related stuff, with a couple of videos in between. Still this is not healthy, but it’s so much fun.

I haven’t talked to somebody in person for three days now, and it seems this will be going on for the next few days. Just some of the benefits of working from home I guess.

I was not able to write anything for a month or so which is unthinkable given my propensity to write anything and everything that comes to mind. But the last few days I think I’m making up for lost time. I’ve been writing up a storm, and even had some kids do some of the legwork for two blogs I unleashed last week.

Oh well, drowsiness is kicking in so might as well hit the sack.

I grew up believing my dad was Superman. No, scratch that. I grew up believing my dad was superman, batman, and spiderman combined. I honestly believe there was no greater dad elsewhere. Even now.

When I first fell in love with tennis and nobody would play with me, my dad would spend his lunchbreak with me hitting balls when the sun was at its hottest. He would quickly finish his lunch while I stand behind him waiting, clutching our rackets and off we would go to the tennis court and play. When I turned 16, he gave a rebellious youngster like me the best present a father could give. An empty house and a case of beer so I can invite my friends and discover what its really like to drink alcohol without fear of getting discovered and scolded. Some folks might frown on this but to a kid who’s in a hurry to grow and taste the adult world, a gesture like that spoke volumes about love, trust, and understanding.

But before I continue, no, my dad is not dead, nor is he lost. I’m just feeling uneasy because earlier tonight he got admitted to a hospital.

With my mother’s passing, papi is the only parent I have left and even the slightest hint of a cold or a cough sends chills down my spine. It’s kinda heartbreaking to see one of the most important people in your life go into a hospital room even if it’s only for a mild case of stomach flu. Once you’ve experienced a loved one go inside a room and leave without a pulse, things kinda take a more circuitous and nerve-wracking route. Everytime another loved one is admitted to a hospital, you can’t help but feel a little anxious.

Papi at his age, is now feeling the ravages of time. He is old, and where before he can easily shrug off any ailment he feels with a puff of his favorite cigarette or a hearty laugh, these days he has to see a doctor. And everytime he sees a doctor, my heart skips a beat. He may still be superman, batman, and spiderman all rolled into one, but there’s no denying that he’s mortal, and one day, he will have to kick the bucket like the rest of us.

Gad, even then, that thought is almost unbearable.

Rain falls when she goes out the door. It’s not always a downpour but somehow, there’s always that little drizzle that makes me think of water sprays from the angry waves in my hometown. The last time, she took 8 steps before she stepped out the door and got swallowed by the outside. I always get the morbid thought that perhaps it’s the last time I’ll see the contours of her back. I take a little sigh every time the door closes and a little prayer to send her her way.

If only I could, I would chain her to the bed so I could watch her every single minute. But love, as they say, is not about the embrace, it’s about letting go. Like being the wind to adjust their sails and bid the beloved a happy journey on whatever adventure she has planned.

I swallow all thoughts of possession as I hear the car go out the drive way. I didn’t bother to wave goodbye. I refused to entertain the nagging thought that perhaps it’s the last I’ll see of her. Her hair that she takes for granted, her everyday smile that she pimps out to her business associates, her special smile that she reserves for me. And those hugs– lately her embrace seems to be the only thing that I live for. I try to get as much embrace as I can whenever she’s around that I feel like a beggar asking for loose change.

Tomorrow. I know she’ll be back tomorrow when her business with life is taken care of, when all those little necessities have been ticked off her mental list. Tomorrow I’ll be waiting. waiting. waiting. For another serving of her embrace.

Many versions have been recorded of this little song by Leonard Cohen (200 artists/versions and counting) and yet one will be hard put to pinpoint which one is the most beautiful. In my biased view however, I like Jeff Buckley’s interpretation the most. I could be influenced by the fact that posthumously (yep dear old Jeff is dead, drowned in fact) his version of the song was number in the Billboard Charts in March 2008. Or maybe it’s the thought that his version was described as ‘hallelujah of the orgasm’ which formed my opinion. In any case, the song is freaking beautiful that I can’t help but do a little background investigation on its lyrical interpretation.

The lyrics were not exactly the greatest in history but pair it with the melody conjured by Cohen and it becomes a different animal altogether. Of course as the title suggest the song is biblical. And there were quite a few verses that were taken from the good book. My favorite stanza was this (hehehe).

And remember when I moved in you
The holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Now it doesn’t take a lot of imagination to decipher the meaning behind those lines. La lang. Thought I’d highlight these three lines.

Too bad that Jeff had to kick the bucket so soon though, he could have created a few more unforgettable songs. In his only album ‘Grace’ this is the song that I like most (next to Hallelujah of course).

I’ve been blogging since this afternoon, taking a piss once in a while to masquerade as a break. No surprise then thats as of 5 minutes ago the creeping sensation of a headache has now morphed into a full blown migraine. I really should have stepped away from the computer for a couple of hours when I first noticed the signs but somehow I just couldn’t do it. I guess this is my way of making up for the time when I will no longer be able to do the kind of madness that I’ve been doing for the past few months.

Yep, unfortunately, I will no longer be able to tend to my garden of blogs starting well, next month when I again surrender to the call of money and prestige. I tell ya, corporate slavery is an affliction and making money the usual way is an incurable addiction. True I could have made money on my own just sitting on my ass the entire day and just bang away at the keyboard but somehow, it felt kinda lonely. I am already alone in this part of this universe and to spend the rest of my days basking in my computer’s glare and talking only to the demons inside my head is something that I can’t do forever. No matter how comfortable I am at being alone, it seems I am still a social animal and would require several avenues for contact to feed my subconscious beast. The SO’s visits, although increased in frequency, were still not enough to quench my thirst for banter, for interaction with creatures of the same species.

So creeping headaches aside, I think I’ll continue to blog and surf and read the things that I read online until the first fingernail of the sun start scratching my heavily draped windows. That’s the only time when I know I should stop.

As an aside, it’s funny how certain words bring to mind memories of things that have affected us greatly in the past. Take the word masquerade for example. There was this girl during my early years who would suddenly burst into song whenever she felt a certain kind of feeling. Not that I know the specifics for her bursting out so suddenly but I do know that she always sings the first few words of this wonderful song. I was heavily infatuated with that girl, truth be told, but it wasn’t something that I pursued seriously knowing that I have already chained myself to a rock that now resides in the bottom of the ocean– something that I can no longer break away from nor did I ever entertain any thoughts of breaking away. Heh.

I’ve been playing this video by Phylum for the past two days. Played it over and over again. Not sure why but I think this song should be in the top ten of every hopeless romantic’s list of hopeless romantic songs. lol.

A character in Beck, one of my favorite animes of all time said that music has the power to change the world. Perhaps that’s a rather lofty ambition but I do think that it can change an individual. If anything this song has made me a firm believer of Phylum Band’s music. I checked out all their other songs and I thought it’s such a shame that these guys are not doing any gigs in Manila. I would move heaven and earth just to watch them (lame).

For those who don’t understand Bisaya, the band has come up with a tagalog version of the song titled Laro Laro. I still have to hear the song and I’m searching high and low all over the internet and couldn’t find it. I hope it gets published online soon. If you want to know more about the band, they have their own website at http://phylumband.multiply.com. It’s a crappy site though. lol. I think I can do better and for free at that. Heck I’ll even create a .com site if they want.

Sabot Sabot is about a guy and a girl who had an affair with the condition that once the girl’s boyfriend comes back from somewhere they’d end it. When the bf returned, the guy actually ended the relationship as agreed and hoped that he will be able to forget the unique kind of happiness he felt whenever he’s with her. But wait, theres more! Now the guy feels hurt everytime he sees the girl and the boyfriend together and asks the usual universal question:

Why only now?

Cheesy na kung cheesy, but the singer’s voice captured all the prerequisite emotion to convey the song’s message. The song also has a good ebb and flow melody that carries the listener to the depths of the hurting guys pain (argh, somebody stop me!).

these days, time has lost its significance. i can no longer tell whether it’s morning or evening. time seems to flow in an unhurried rhythm, not really waiting or stopping for me to hop on its wagon. there are no destinations or pauses, no speedbumps or intersections; only a droning flow, a fluid figure eight that goes on and on and on. it is perfect and unforgiving. sometimes, in my semiconscious state, i wonder whether it’s time that has lost its significance, or simply myself.