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Showing posts from 2010


First of all, happy new year, my lovely, technological companion!
So I've been using this nifty new application from the App Store recently since it was announced in Gizmodo that it was going to be free all throughout January. It's called Runkeeper. It's kind of like that Nike + iPod thing only better, I don't need some button or something in my shoe. It records the distance, the calories burned (lol), it even has music, and it records the route you've partaken and utilises Google Maps (I think) for easy pointers. It's really neat. I'm loving this simple New Year's resolution for myself, try it!
Think about it, it's like Facebook for healthy people (or not).

Lights out

Infatuation with the dark usually stems from the desire to step away from the concept of love without having to compromise the love that is already within one's self. It usually is created to fill the gaps between sorrow, depression and that idea of longing for someone or something either intentional or involuntary. The longer the time lapses, the larger the consequences take its toll upon that said person and it usually begins in a scornful way, much more so when the vulnerability of the victim is at its lowest point. There begins that lingering idea of suicide, sadomasochism and most common among its vile ways, use of drugs. But there are some of those that survive that moment in time without succumbing to the treachery of human stain. These people form a bond with themselves greater than the bond they usually share with their parents, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, sometimes even God Himself. The central idea that forms within that person begins to make an understanding of…

Simplest of things

I struggle even with the simplest of things. I find it difficult to follow simple arithmetic. I am highly instinctive and my instincts are usually selfish, what is outside of its realm deserves no gratitude of any sort. I am not without common sense though, but sometimes I feel that with me being this pretentious, it feels as though what I pretend moulds into what I become, nasty as it may be, and I lost it all, every simple matters and treasures I have had. Relationships, opportunities, money, career, any materialistic possessions I could have had.
Looking back at things there certainly were moments where I felt life took its own detour. Early retirement, the 'restaurant' (if they insist), the home incident, London aspirations, nurses and failure debarment, independence, up to this point, none of it were as painful as trying to remember the incident before it all happened. The blissful everyday life routine, the fresh scent of pigeons in the morning underneath our mango tree, …


Neutral by Cil Rand
"I'm not shy but this is different. I can't explain the way I'm feeling tonight."


Wall-e by Cil Rand

Blessing in disguise

Although my holiday, despite not having finished yet, is arguably the worst I have ever had, a blessing in disguise in the form of an old flame came out of nowhere and surprised me with a hello and that was that. I now have reason to keep going again. I cannot justify the intention of that said person for contacting me but I feel obliged to be very fortunate of being remembered even as far as my birthday in two or three months' time. We were almost without communication for a year or so due to miscommunication and my pathetic excuse for a joke that ended up in a sour tone which eventually led to our demise. She was as pure as a dove, in search for the bountiful loots life has in offer, and I was a rogue looking for some gold and damsel to abuse. But she changed me in lots of ways normal people would not dare go beyond into especially when you talk about my relationships with people in the past. It's a huge step and a big rebound to my optimism, but sadly, like all other sad lo…


Today I am going talk about nothing because that's all there is really. What is it about nothingness that is so alluring most people have it but also doesn't have it at the same time? And is there a choice whether or not you are lucky or unlucky to be one of the very many chosen ones to suffer the same fate? I will try to avoid speaking intellectually for the sake of the masses, not that I'm implying I have any, but to make it a lot more easier and simpler for all the busybodies out there unaware of the possibilities that someday life will also be nothing for them. What is it that drives us? What is it that does not? Nothing. A word so empty yet full of definition. Make something out of nothing kind of philosophy. Will there be any chance of irrefutable evidence that nothing is also something? How about everything?
Ironically, nothing is something because it is most often used as an indefinite pronoun. Therefore, it stands for something, whatever nothing is, or it is not. I…

Only the lonely

You're perfect, yes, it's true... but without me, you're only you.
Imagine (no pun intended) John Lennon without Yoko. That would be.. gasp!
I feel the urge to defecate as I write this but I withhold it for a little while longer. Meanwhile, I really would want to rest my head somehow seeing as that I have spent almost twelve long hours soaked into this tiny otherworldly thing most people would call a 'laptop' and coincidentally enough, it is on top of my lap and belly button while I lie in my light-deprived bed and the telly staring at me for hours now doing nothing and showing nothing as well. What a charmer I am, trying to lure out the scum that the world ever so needed. Hello scum, welcome to my world now where you can find your vivid imaginations come to life in the form of mutilated fungus and deformed fingernails consumed and enjoyed for pleasure in this not-so-alluring twisted and deluded fantasy of mine. The clown has woke up, it's time for bed. Milk and …


Honour lost amongst thieves Buried within the windy leaves The friction of pain one receives Nothing compared to what he believes What it is that life for him gives Depends on what he plans and weaves

Minus stellar

Wow, the days cannot be any more slower and unproductive than this. This fucking sucks. I revolt against myself! How dare I! When I grow up I want to drink coffee and have lots of children, eat pancakes for dinner, and drive my own bicycle. That's ambition for me. Fuck. You.
Fuck. Me.
I wish.

Nothing better than shopping...

... after long months of not being able to, either because I lack the sufficient funds to do so or I simply have no longer control of my time as I divulge myself fully to my newfound interest, theatre. First of all I had no intention of going shopping. I didn't have enough before I woke up this morning. My utmost priority was mainly to resolve the internal conflict going on with regards to my visa renewal. I did the biometrics thing at Elephant and Castle which was eerily deja vu, like I was back at Manila for a couple of minutes. I tried hard not to be anxious and nervous but I can't help especially after the dude told me I had lots of bad prints on my first try. I had to go to the washroom and wash my filthy hands. Only God knows (and me) where it has been for the past couple of days, and I wouldn't want to tell you myself. It's a personal secret. I went back and I, unsure whether or not fortunate, finally got it partially right having only two left questionable fing…


Mulled by wine and steel the suffering has been stifled and weakened. The blacksmiths have abandoned their crafts at long last. With their wives and children they set forth to the neighbouring kingdom of Villarosa where our hope awaits and defends. Along with warriors and rogues, thieves and fools alike, we march. Although, I understand, it was never intended to be easy.
There were innumerable obstacles in store for us.
Weather. The frozen tundras were the only way forward and we had no option but to move along. The extreme chill pierced through our skin and left half of the people in agony and gloom. There was no talking along the way, everyone's teeth were preoccupied in rattling. Not to mention the rabid mammals who were lurking behind the icicles with their eyes intent on making dinner made of human flesh. The blanched bears and silver wolves hunted us as if we were prey, and we were at that moment vulnerable. I had to stand up and defend my people from countless creatures of na…

First term

Countdown to Christmas and New Year has always been the liveliest time of year. Not for me, not for me. I'm an exception. It's always one step different with me. I believe it has been almost five long years of celebrating the holidays alone, and although I may not be sincerely miserable, there is no denying a tinge of hurt in my sensitivity. Now is the first time I get to be with my 'loved ones,' if for some mocking chance that pair of words truly exist, and I feel that rabid urge to cling on to whatever it is that was left of the past analogies I had of life and growing up. In other and simpler words, I just want to be alone. I don't want to be with them. Not that I hate them, well, I do a little bit, but still. I want to go somewhere else if possible. I want to live life as it should be lived, and that constant denial of joy will never go unanswered especially when part of me is involved in it. I guarantee there will be anything but peace on Earth during this yea…


Sad that I suck at cooking It matters not no more Techniques can be taught That's what Thomas is for
I have to hurry up I have to leave in a few Must have my shower soon The clock's telling me to

Dress rehearsal

The scratch he sustained from the various bodily range of motions he conjured begins to swell and turn all the more red. With use of the first aid kit found at his own humble abode he decides to disinfect the wound with alcohol and a band aid which belonged to his old folk who was asleep when he decided to have a grab at it without permission, and why not if for the good purpose. He hurt his body from too much exertion, can barely bend his back and abdominal regions. Everything seemed to hurt him, including his acquaintances which he found slightly bearable depending on circumstance. He had a fragile emotion, ever changing in every moment he can. It hurt him most after reading the morning zodiac informing him of later success and happiness at the end of each day which never seems to occur at all.
He is once again irked by the actions of a previously nice female acquaintance who recently became a stuck-up bitch with pimples and square head. Her countenance reminded him of a classic cart…


Ohh my God... Baby you done took this... to another level! Now a neighbourhood nigga like me ain't supposed to be gettin no pussy like this Damn, damn!, who thought you how to get sexy (Ceezy taught me) You never use to talk dirty, but now you damn disgusting. My, my God, where'd you learn that? (Ceezy taught me) Look at you... naked... with them... Jimmy Choo's off. Who thought you how to put some... Jimmy Choo's on? (Ceezy taught me) Yo, you took your game up a whole 'nother level, this is some Cirque 'u Soleil now! You done went all porno on it, k. And I, and I love it... And I thank you, I thank you, my dick thanks you! How did you learn, how... how did your game come up? (Ceezy taught me) I was... parts of your pussy I never... before. I was in there like, oo, I never been here before. I've never even seen this part of town before. It's like you got this... re-upholstered or something. What the fuck happened? Who, who the fuck got your pussy all re-upholstered? (C…

Will be

I once remember (not too long ago) a woman telling me in her own nicest way possible that my fashion sense were laughable for wearing skinny and tight leggings which I find best suitable when I am moving to and about the room doing all those crazy stunts for performance classes. The criticism was utterly preposterous and honestly left me dumb-founded. Was she that stupid? Or was she just looking for a nasty reason to piss me off and she succeeded? Anyway, who was her to say what I to wear or not to wear in the first place? It's the most ridiculous criticism I've ever heard of myself in all my living glory, and I've had crazier ones but not as annoying as this. Imagine doing splits or cartwheels on denims. What irks me the most is that she was potentially the best one amongst the women, and she destroyed herself by that statement alone.
It's the last week of the first term. I don't know what to make of it. Made an equal amount of love as much as I made a suitable amo…

Philosophical rubbish

There was nobody left anywhere. Lights flicker steadfastly signalling it's time to go. The floor shadows ignite tension to the room as if occupants of same space. The table was just as bored as he was. He found company amongst furnitures and leftover utensils.
'Lead me quietly into the dark, and I will bring light upon it. The stars will forever shine upon me as if to say I am not alone, and I always was and never, for the same stars were there, not in the same location as they would the previous meeting, but that same energy flow towards his character runs deep, eyes cower, lips quiver. What sort of resistance was necessarily folly? What limited preconceptions materialised before our heads? There is no answer to your self-pitying query. The riddle comes in forms of emotions. Sadness, melancholy, grief, despair, nostalgia. These are the guiding bodies to your salvation, and these will find all the ways of which you can manifest into a whole, an entity of yourself and of the pla…


One of these days I am going to get myself in order and shapeThing is, there has not been much of an inclination to do so Recently, nothing has been happening much, too mundane Zapped back into repression, people think I am taciturn Old enough to know better, too cute to care The idea stems from the pitiful nature of the ignoramuses The world has had loads of those, unfortunately I desire to go back to being loquacious and stout And then wake up to the sound of my wet drool


Nobody finished the chips. I didn't like it cold nor the absence of crispiness helped. If any, it made it completely awful. I set it aside on the corner (usually left for a couple of days to rot in vain), drank a can of soft drink lying beside the table. The urge to pee was unbearable, pulled the zip down aiming the glorious shaft in the tiny hole of the can, released the frustrations inside, and yelled out a thunderous roar. The place was immediately silenced. Finally establishing the much-needed territorial stance like a proud canine, I go back to my normal self.

Alone but not lonely

Mocked by the intensity of the cacophonous banter of the surrounding crowd, he shuts himself away into an oblivious reverie. He has no approbation from his peers whatsoever; it is but merely a test of faith, of patience. From his position and where he sits, it was clear that the intentions were illogically biased and pre-orchestrated to exclude even his subjective opinion. He would have none of that. Clearly this was to him a farcical joke no longer awarding of a punchline. There no longer was any relevance to the performing bodies anymore, all of which plagued by idiocy and crap mentality of the majority and unlawful pity to the minority. The enablers are all the more guilty by association, consumed by the desire to be accepted within the circle from which all mediocrity is based upon. It proved too tasteless for his buds, his inexperience would not even equate the lunacy he so just witnessed.
He shrugged it all off, outnumbered by the sheer folly of the antidrama, and so carried the …

Shaun the Sheep

At this current moment is the very first time I watched an episode of Shaun the Sheep. Nadieh the Dutch from class frequently mentions this adorable white mammal. In her own hysterical way, her eyes light up every single moment I put on my protective snow headgear that resembles that of this creature and, while smiling, calls me by the name of Shaun the Sheep. I really have no idea if I should take such actions lightly and if these are compliments or insults. At least I made her smile in an unexpected way, that is what matters. It is very difficult to please performers such as them and I value every single smile or praise they can utter to me for that would be a rare and momentous occasion. Except, of course, those people that I find stale in comparison with the majority.

Here I go again with my cynicism.


The interpersonal convergence was haphazardly on due. The notion of twin stars falling from space were fallacious. None of them bore a hint of truth. Life in the deep unknown were more complicated than one ever imagined. Infinity was at the tip of their grip. Megalomania will engross the invader. The rings of third Saturn were glowing bright red, rotating faster than usual and missing another moon. There was enigma amongst the stellar skies.


Emptied the sack. There was nothing more but a lonely headphone. Lifted her skirt and inserted the plug in between her right thigh. Bleeding profusely. Nothing fancy about it. Slid her finger to the flow of blood upwards slowly. She sighed. Aimed her bloodied finger at her mouth and licked it while it drips. Back and forth, up and down. She sucked it like it was a shaft. Blowjob.
They saw her doing the nasty thing from afar. They knew something was amiss. What was she doing? Why is she alone? They walked towards her with intent and curiosity. To their horror they witnessed the deed and shrieked in panic. She bled on without a care in the world. She was satisfied. Stared at the people with wide eyes and indifference. She fainted soonafter with a smile.


The pink robots appeared again to annihilate the remaining forces of the Unicorn Defences. It was a terrible sight to behold. They began their onslaught on an unsuspecting old beaver who just visited the tea shop for breakfast.
'I hate beavers,' whispered one.
There was no hope of survival. Many of the evacuees now take comfort underneath the bunkers of Turtle Island where the counter-forces kept their guard at the heaviest. They were led by a giraffe woman who stuttered every single time she utters a word with a letter R. Nevertheless, every single one of them looked up to her as a symbol of hope and salvation, and she has been doing just that consistently.
Reconnaissance owls prowled the skies day by day in that island. Bomb scares were constantly imminent and the people were in persistent threat of danger. Anti-air mortars were mostly destroyed after the last battle with the vultures. Sea defences as well were constantly bombarded with underwater threat that included some of t…

Five alive

The armoured casing of the dynamic abstractness was showcased during the exhibition. There was no other competition other than a few petty challengers who wished to pay tribute to nostalgia; it was not even worthy of mention.
Five canvases were rolled neatly into the walled cement. These were the ideals they were looking after and looking out for. There was a distinction between these two opposing marks.
One was of the contemporary sort. Au naturel. Not much going on except the obvious. There was no apparent flaw except everything and nothing. There was no right and there was no wrong. Anything made everything godly repulsive. The paradox of creation, which in itself is the essence of life.
The second was more attractive in terms of attention to detail. The Spanish dilemma. El conquistador. The one that got away. The thing that kept the fire burning, and due to that burned on in itself. It brought demise upon its own with its unflattering wave of tensions that were a bit too much for its…

Get up, stand up

White morning with the snow still up for grabs a window away. My fingers still are hypothermic. I have this sense of urgency to sleep all day for reason none other than being lazy. Listening to music as per usual, eating unhealthy, heavy on calories, carbohydrate-driven pastes. Eggs are a giveaway, protein to nurture my strength. The glowing power of growing. My humble abode is still in a laughable mess. I need to stay away from you. You are part of the reason for treason. Treasons for no reason. The reason for no reason. Lazy without a cause. It's time for all the wrong reasons.

"So.. who was phone?"

It ended with a hiccup and slowly dissipated into the blanched air. Normally I don't ever agree on starting paragraphs with 'it' because it is connotative of something unprepared and half-loved. And half-loved to me is half-hated as well so that sums it up. The journey we had undertaken from the first week up to this has not been quite up to par as to my expectations but it does not mean I am not pleased. For a lack of a better term, I am still hungry for detail. My improvements are steady but not consistent. My potential is questionable. My skills are arguable. My overall chemistry with the people is bland. My overall chemistry with the space is fair. My overall chemistry with my mentors are lacklustre but not distressful. My communication methods are horrendous, which, by the way, always leaves me hanging by the end of each session gripping away with regrets and anxiety scorning myself and torturing deep into the masochistic nature of my ego. I no longer feel the urge to…

Party on a Sunday

There's a weird thought about having parties in Sundays. It just doesn't feel right, innit. I still would, nothing's keeping me from having fun. But it usually is Fridays and Saturdays that capture everyone's go-to day. Understandably so since tomorrow is then Monday, first day of the week for most people and first day of work for the majority of everymen around the globe. I wasn't out on Friday or Saturday so this doubles up as reimbursement for my stress-induced week. Being bed-ridden without anyone bothering on worrying is the shit.

Said hi without saying goodbye

Red light beaming to and from the corridors of a mirage. I understood, I am not perspicuous. I aim to bid goodbye to my idiocy, and say hello to my sphericity. I belong in a menagerie of stray assholes. The world is too small for my desires, and my desires are grandeur in nature. Aim low, they say, so fuck them all. After achieving low, they say, aim higher, but not so high that you give Icarus a bad name. My wax no longer melts, the current weather disallows it. The pins, needles are susceptible to my pain, as I am susceptible to theirs. Blankets for cold, I require no refrigerator. The dark speaks to me in native tongue, and it understands me completely and unconditionally. Embracing it, I suffer more and suffer less. Neither of us complain nor explain. It was obviously flawed, a relationship so vile and sweet. Neither wanted each other nor cared, but it was evident we needed one another. The shadows began to slither on. Dawn is approaching fast. The light will put an end to this no…


The stench spread misery amongst the passers by. The wind no longer held its vibrant chill beneath the deep tunnels underground, it dissipated along with all the others' dignity. There was no indication of oppression within the transport, neither was there any sort of opposition, just another of those irrelevant and torturous mid-autumn angst. A man bellowed as he sat down with a newspaper in hand. He had no idea along with hundreds more inside with them. It was just one of those days.

It is I but I am not it

It started with a cry that shattered a heart into million tiny pieces. Shards which reconcile quite easily despite the fact. Although the impact that drove the other malleable hearts into deep freeze woke up just before the big departure, it still left a sour influence in the tongue. The like of which that would most likely haunt forth and linger throughout their entire pilgrimage and banter. Times like these are a tough nut to crack. And I am in the middle of it and loving it.
Schadenfreude. Tell me I'm cuzao, if you insist. The pleasure derived from the experience taken from the earlier demise was the thing I was waiting for all along. The reassurance for something I seemed to have longed for and forgotten. The misfortunes of others aren't for me to create but to blame me for my apathy would be entirely absurd. I was but an audience. I was but a bystander. The weight of the burden is fun enough to watch when the bright figure from the highest platform begins its own self-deto…


The need to sleep early on this night Overwhelming miraculously transcending Even if the lights are on I muster How does one snore like thunder in snow Urges futile resting eagerly Tomorrow the barren will pave the way What lies in store for us this week Answer lies beneath the stars speaking Let it be for, let it be me


Discreetly, the night began to show its nasty colours. It was tragic that he knew even before going what the implications were. It was instinctive of him to know, his paranoia aided him in lots of ways unbeknownst to others. He grabbed a pint of beer and sat in a corner while an orgy of perversity swooned across the entire area. People behind masks, masks that were for him tainted and stripped of all respect. She complained a little about the expenses and the time. He waited patiently, stealthily, like a vulnerable rabbit in wildlife during the hunting season. He watched in disgust his reflection as he entered the loo, the annoying position of his hairstyle, the ageing choice of clothing, his unbearable crooked smile, puffy cheeks, and negative connotations of his presence overall. They both went out for puffers carrying the weight of the glass with them underneath the frozen twilight. A familiar face crept from behind a few minutes before finishing a round, not the friendly one, he a…

Passive aggresive

The two wandering bodies walked side by side in the frigid outskirts of London in hopes of adding colour to their woeful existences. A dreadful impression overcame him as he listened to her speak, a sporadic smell of diarrhoeic mouth from the lady in disguise greeted him with unintentional regard just when he began to feel the undesired vibrant romance in the air. It automatically killed everything for him, but he avoided all the petty confrontations, he persevered, hoping to the stars his fate would change for something better. Unfortunately for him, every time he thought of something warm he thought of the equally cold figure from before. The same figure that has been lingering on to his thoughts for months on end now. This, he felt, was a day of reckoning, or immediate surrender. He came up with a preplanned itinerary for both his defence and counterattack in case something unlawful emerges from the dust, but he knew it wouldn't last for long. The first barrage of attack from t…

Before the fading

There was a fickle sense of authority looming in during that night he took the evening underground tube. Something was amiss, a sinister being of gloom lurking beneath the shadows in the tunnels. The reptilian mechanism zoomed in for the kill as he stood patiently on the side of the tracks where a yellow line in his feet signals him not to cross boundaries or suffer major consequences in the long run. When it came to a halt, he greeted the hostile air with mildly confident trepidation, walked in hoping to sit down only to be pushed back and forth by unruly stench of showerless blokes. He snarled to himself while he grabs hold of the bar. There was no way he could bow down to obscurity in such tainted fashion. This night will not bring him down. Only thing worth dragging down is a Northern bitch of snow and slaughter, the blissful tearing of disappointment, the suspect of heartache, who went down crawling from the tundras to greet the unwilling with despair and depression. He wouldn…

Warm.. only to burn

A slight indication was evident that a cold, bumming night was imminent ahead. Music woke him up, ironically to the Rage Against The Machine song Wake Up. He was too disoriented to care about the song. He knew something would have to happen tonight, even if it meant there wasn't anything at all to begin with. His droopy eyes gazed at the apparatus beside him in bed, a laptop, pulled the noisy thing out and postured lazily like a sloth trapped in a contemporary cage of comfort. Checked all the things needed to be checked. Mobile blurts out a sudden agonizing noise. He hates it, unless it's something he cares for. It usually isn't.. so why bother?
The first step out of the bed is always the most gut-wrenching one. It's either you trip over from laziness or sleepiness or nothing ever happens. That's the only two choices available. There is never a good option, an amazing one mayhap. He still had a couple of hours in time to prepare, and he loathes that anxiety, he knew…

She's probably with her other half by now

So I guess this is good riddance? Hasta la vista? Time sure does fly quicker than one can imagine, that includes the pain and heartache from before. No worries for me. I can't blame the heart that fell last. To be in comfort with the arms of another, how I wonder. How does it start? How does it even finish? Or does it even finish at all? How do you know it exists? How do you know for certain its authenticity? How do you even acknowledge its presence, its fervour, its melancholy?
It slowly creeps in and out of the system, that I know of. It's not like I've never been in this situation. Hopeless romantics are a sight to behold. All that rage, that pent up frustrations, those displacing defence mechanism. Where does it all flow through? Who instigates it? Even the shortest moments, a mere second, may last an entire lifetime, affects you entirely, body and soul, and it becomes you, defines you in every little precise calculation you may or may not do. If you stand up or if you …


I have never been the genial kind of person. Consider myself borderline antisocial and critic to all things that eat and breathe. Branded myself the term antilove, as opposed to hero and antihero. No wonder I hardly have any friends that truly last. The fact is, the people that do stick I feel are only those that deserve redemption on this up and coming Armageddon.

Make a mountain out of it

Had the tuna smell of salad stuck on me Took the bus home when at the gardens stood still the time Two dead mobile phones I met Febrile in the cold night weather Strolling along the silent streets of old My barber says hello in a car Alas, he remembered me! At least somebody did Brought a smile to my face

Theatrical script

I was planning to make a theatrical script for tomorrow's big event presentation at the studios but then I lackadaisically slept the entire day away, slashing off the sufficient time needed to process the whole thing. I disappeared from naked eye during two of their devising classes and I missed an awful lot of things due to that. I need to make amends somehow, don't want people to think I'm a pushover.
I have no idea how to make stage scripts. Not even particularly sure what the difference is between stage and screen scripts.
Not to mention I'm not feeling perky and at best in this current state. I still have a bit of an acrobatics hangover from last Friday but it surely was fun. Never regretted a single moment of it. Keep pushing myself hard, I guess. Last night was the last straw, I reckon, but that's another different story in itself.


Despedida de Julia @ Hoxton


I would say pull my hairShe would then grab me by my ears I would shriek in agonizing pain Then bleed from my nose Turn to collapse Drop dead on the floor There goes my artistic freedom

Coupled with other things

May have done something to heighten this dreaded feeling I do now, as if a hypochondriac. Woke up to a forced, chilly morning fearing the backlash of being tardy every single first subject considering that Debra is the first one to greet us every Tuesdays. Ironically was still tardy but not within range of acceptable tardiness. Four minutes late, if I remember correctly. That sent headaches down to my thigh. That’s only the headache problem. To make matters worse while taking the tube the urge to crap was unbearable. It was disastrous. Joined the class feeling so limited in my bodily range of motion due to this unfortunate circumstance. Found it very difficult to wiggle my chest and pelvis because felt like something inside me is going to burst out and spread meconium spray all over the studio. That’s the craptastic other. Marianna didn’t like the food, go figure. ‘Twas the most despicable puto I’ve ever tasted in my entire Philippine existence. Everyone seemed to love my Piattos thou…

Happy birthday dad

I punched thin air as the wind blowing sent chills up my spine. Worst cold weather I have had since forever. Finally I can sincerely say my flip flop skills are put to rest, it was awful! It chewed on my toes as if it was merienda. I stopped by Earl's Court hoping to buy something for Marianna tomorrow. She can be quite a stoopy character, prone to irritation and mild anxiety. Little did I know (and I just realised when I reached the doorsteps to home) it was my father's birth date. Fortunately I didn't eat which I almost did, and lingered not too long as well outside which I should have but didn't. The planned dinner wasn't as bad as I pictured it to be. The layout could have been improved even for a little, but who's complaining? White wine for me after meal.

Nothing lasts forever

I stood back and watched myself sufferStaring at me in first-person view Slowly as I drop down rushing from the freefall It was the vertigo that held me up high More often than not it's always something I hate falling even metaphorically Everything it represents is being at your lowest point Including now as I watched shadows in broad light Too proud to flicker As if it serves major importance to the world But it doesn't really, or does it? How should I know subjectivity When all I am is toadstool with halitosis Not a care in the world Too abstract to matter

November Rain

I'm just waiting for it to rain so I can sing and post again this song. It would be epic (not really). The other night where I commuted from West Ham to home (most fucking dreadful) it rained but was too depressing to think of doing anything else. It took me four hours tops to get home that time.

Sunday morning

Conflicting thoughts immediately consume and compound me, punching like invisible tiny creatures walking in and out of my cognitive processing. It's difficult to trace the outline but it really doesn't matter because it barely makes any sense. I just want to lay low and allow myself to be gobbled up by my laziness as per usual. 
I don't feel like doing anything today. But, yeah, I just remembered my father mentioning something about a baptism thing to go to somewhere in Upton Park. Ugh, the distance is agony plus three. I might go there for food and a little bit of socializing. Not necessary, but could somehow work out for something better. Hopefully.
Aching to go somewhere in a couple of weeks. Somewhere that I've never been to. Vacation of sorts. Away from all these negative vibrations surrounding. Grab some happy soda and spend outdoors like mediocrity demands from all those who suffer. If only I knew.
And I really want to have an international driver's license now…

Philippines FC

Tonight we went out for a short while and had a couple of drinks to commemorate Marcos' departure in two weeks. I had Guinness and rhum+coke as intended, not so bad considering tonight was Saturday. Met new people along the way. Yelda introduced me to her footballer boyfriend. I'm not much familiar with football, to be quite honest. There was a Brazilian girl and one which I failed to engage in communication, sucks. It was fun though. We all went to the dreaded studio together which was all sorts of awful. Rarely do we meet each other especially now where people go on their own separate ways. It seems only Yelda remains the apocalyptic survivor among us who still remains in the studio even up to this moment. She seems intent on leaving as well some time soon.
Anyway, this footballer boyfriend of hers that she always talked about had plans on making some kind of visit to my country and create a football club or college. I said, 'Why not? Seems like a good idea.' Not too …


Acrobatics. What a mixture of torture and pleasure. I feel so strong and powerful at the same time feeling so weak and distressed. I can sense the electrifying tingling in my fingers as I lifted my entire body down the mat using just my hands, that reckoning would have broken my neck in two places. I struggled back up over and over doing the same acts of masochism, and now I'm sore as a pickle. I swear I could feel my entire anatomy bulging in shape all except my arduous belly of death. Fuck my glug glug tummy.
Kokey is on telly. Fuck.

That urge again

It’s funny I’m getting that same urge over and over without putting too much effort in it. Finally I have succeeded in alienating myself from the people I work with and the people I value the most. Unfortunately not all of them are included as of yet. Do I really want to finish until the very last one? Probably so. Solitary comfort isn’t easy, but neither is companionship. All I need now is a safe haven to call my own and I would be ready to go, burst forth into the horizon like an eagle in the night, all blind and fragile. With regal wings that dare not spread unless the sudden outburst of need arises. That’s what basically happened to unsung heroes. Maybe I am an unsung hero. If not, will I ever be? Do I have the potential? Since we’re discussing urges might as well mention the inner urge in me wanting to partake the fame game. Never will I perish without a legacy to behold, to avenge myself against the same people that ridiculed my in-born potential. The champion within me arises l…

Ugly recoil

It is not something I expected wholeheartedly. It hurts like hell and it makes my thoughts go in all directions. You can say I am in a process of withdrawal. Love withdrawal, you might say, cheesy as it awfully sounds. I know time will heal it, but it still fucks me up big time. I can’t even think straight. It’s always bugging me, annoying me, pissing me off wherever I go, whenever it wants to attack. The only safe bet to avoid this is sleep but I can’t even sleep. My face is always on Facebook chat, hoping, waiting, knocking on wood something miraculous would happen. Sometimes something does happen, but more often than not there really is nothing there. Like a blank state of melancholy, chewing away at my insecurities and heartaches. I go home and eat and pretend nothing bad happened and sometimes I wank, hard as I might to avoid it, but still nothing eases this unlawfully accepted state. I tried for an alternative. Maybe I do need an alternative. But hard too as I might, it’s anothe…

Found a ball? Pound a bowl

Half-life @ Queen's Market, Upton Park, photo by Elina.


She a playa. Shove it. Hope she hangs. So frustrated. What a bitch. Tantamount to manslaughter. Wasted time. Loser child. Burning eyes. Expensive haircut. A little bit solitary. Meant to be. Soul is squeezed. Red hot way. Fistfucked life. Smiling sad. Pepsi night. Photo white.


My first-ever Halloween party!

She’s just playing with me

I just know it. I can feel it. I can sense it. I am not that naive and stupid. I can see through your succubus ways, woman. A fool such as I, there never was, I cried my tears so well. I know I’m going to regret this, sigh, but here we go again! Fuck!


Halloween, All Saints, All Souls, whatever people consider thinking of it still remains one of the favourite holiday seasons throughout the year. It is time for people to scare themselves dry and freak each other out with frightening costumes and sweets, not to mention parties and celebrations throughout the day.
Funny and awesome as it may sound, it still remains daunting that most of the people here celebrate this day on a different light. From where I am from, it usually is taken in from a different approach. People are gloomy,sad, nostalgic and are usually found lingering inside and out of cemeteries taking solace with their loved ones who, in previous moments in time, departed from this world and made a whole new, different journey of their own. Candles are most common commodities to be found anywhere in the place. Chicken boxes in Styrofoam are part of what I remember growing up experiencing the same ambience of cultural norm.
Melancholic as this day represents, 'tis serves as…

Bad vibes

Little did I expect things to happen so soon. How pathetic of me and sad. As soon as I reached out the sun after the rain I knew something grew amiss. It isn’t working out the way it was supposed to. Notwithstanding the complete effect of my own slipups I pushed through and pretended nothing happened to no avail. Maybe this awkward letting go will eventually dissipate in time but as of today might as well shrink into a flower, wallflower, reminding me again how much I hate fucking flowers just recently. But that’s an entirely different scenario on its own.


Last day at The English Studio with amazing Brazil people. Ooh, dat bellie. o_o

Primark, a haiku

The stuffs are so cheap I want to buy something now But I'm ashamed to

It takes too much to impress

I'm arrogant, I'm cocky, I'm the f'n king of the world. Reminds me of the likes of Floyd Mayweather, Jr., Brock Lesnar, et al. Those type of people the people love to hate. I am aware of this quality in me and frankly I embrace it. Downside of all these bragging rights is that I don't have the right.
Feels bad, son.


When some sort of idiotic emotion gobbles you up and struggles to maintain control of your entire self then you know there is something wrong with your way of living as I found out firsthand. Now in order to counter this self-detonating idiocy I must control the controller itself. And I speak of love as if I am the first person to ever experience such godawful fallacy, which by the way is completely rational in my part but totally and completely brash and hasty amongst normal denizens of this forsaken planet. I've met lots of people in my stay here in London and each person signifies a different star, of which despite its brightness and ardour remains distant and farfetched for my own desires. For the most part I try so very hard to ignore this foolishness, problems which I created with my own paranoia, but the longer it takes the more it sets in and then blowjobs me down to my unconscious. I'd have none of this if given the chance. I'd have none of all either. Now that I …

You're so kind, really

The first week of performing arts worked better than I expected it to be. I turned out mediocre in all honesty but it was not without a fight. I took lots of liberty in most of our exercises and it felt amazing doing it in front of a lot of people with similar goals and intentions. It was there that I met people of similar interests and of outstanding backgrounds and qualifications. At the same time, I've never felt so alienated but happy both. We are an amazing bunch of people, our batch. When I first heard from Amy that I am a pioneer Filipino, the stakes grew higher. I felt the need to become best of what I do and what I must do. Although half of that feeling goes out of the other ear. I'm a lousy doer. We got along pretty fast, more so than I expected. Each person has their own unique set of skills and ideas and somehow it got pretty difficult figuring out the middle ground in which to stand on because everything has to be complex and ideal according to one's set of mi…

The night she said good day

None of it matters anymore. This guilt-ridden abusive nature of mine has had quite enough of its pride and stupidity. I would rather eat a rat's twat if it means staying on track on my primary objective. Every else just does not mend well according to plan of action. There were loads of moments and just minor repercussions but everything still fell apart. I guess I just am a fated juggalo wanting to be something I truly am not, and everything shows just because. There were times in between those moments where I felt the urge to compete against the tide and be a showcase of my own silly imagination, but even that had never quite been up to par. What the fuck have I been doing since then? What the fucking fuck went wrong? What the fucking fucking fuck is wrong with me? I just don't really know myself anymore, and sometimes I just don't care why. Maybe that's why.


No Fap October didn't go exactly as I planned. The depression hangover from yesterday still lingers and was supposed to be a good day too if not for some preconceived idea of hate and frustration. I did release some steam after not having one for a total of just three days, I think. It's not that I deeply regret what I did, I regret having lost the available flat that of Rosaline's. It was meant for me at the same time probably not. I plan on giving up everything except my responsibilities beginning Monday. Start a fresh new one that I oh so fully loathe doing. Rather have that than having none at all. This life toll is tearing me to shreds and I'm hanging on to whatever is trying to get a hold of me. I had my first full bath today having all the time in my hands, extremely bored as I was. It made me feel so buoyant in nature but the risk involved was in a way overwhelming my entire person as I was dipping myself into the tub. Air forces itself up on its own despite me…