moving on

it just died i think...
after spending almost five years of my life with the same person that i thought would be my life long partner, it just ended.
it hurts big time i know, the only comforting thought about it though is that i was not the one who did the damage, which also quite sucks i guess. heheh!
anyways, enough of the pining, through with that. as a true gentleman (or so i thought) i just let the situation go through. there's no way i can fight what destiny has set. i'm still alive and that is the most wonderful thing i am most thankful of. no ill feelings, it's just part of being an imperfect human being, you get to hurt once in a while, or more often. it's not a new concept, there are a lot of people hurting the world over. and i'm sure that there are far more people whos going through worse situations than i do. and moping? what's the use, everyone must be a fighter, no more sissies.
the only good thing about break-ups is that it toughens you, you must only recognize the positivity it brings you. sure, you love the other human being you spent most of your time adoring, but if it has to end--it has to end. no ifs, no buts, no nothing. ending a relationship can be the most empowering situation a human being can go through. imagine it as a navy S.E.A.L.S. training, after you've recovered you are a whole lot better person than you were before. the only people i know that carry grudges over break-ups are the saddest people i've met. they blame themselves everything that went wrong, and cannot get over it. these people are those who can't soar because they harbor heavier emotional baggages than they can handle. blah!

life is too short to be sad...
the world is unfair so let it be, you can't argue with fate.
just keep on standing because it is the most beautiful gift you can give yourself. cry if you want to, but be quick about it. just let life bring you all the lemons, and make lemonade for the whole world. i believe that we humans must be the bravest survivors in the entire universe, and we all have to continue on surviving the harshest situation life has to offer.
just keep on believing,
keep on living,
and keep on loving,
even if it hurts big time.

the drama queen kills the cheerleader mom

Anaphora of Hate

a couple or more years back i wrote a little piece called "Anaphora of Hate". a handful of people might've read it, because i also included it in my mockazine "Jack". the peice is inspired by everything i hate during those times, and by a lot of things i was currently reading those times, plus the fact that i hate myself. here is the original text of that piece, if you're interested...

I hate Christmas, it just reminds me that I’m poor and have nothing to spend. But then again, Jesus was born poor; he was born in a manger.

I hate mornings. The sun hurts my eyes and I want to sleep ‘til noon, but I have to work and wake up early.

I hate to hear complains except my own. I hate it when people walk around doing this and that. I hate it when they make you feel useless and whine that they can’t get any help from you.

I hate cold, limp French fries and melted ice cream, but I still eat them even if they’re cold, limp or melted. I hate warm beers and glacial coffee.

I hate it want someone is so greedy they want everything for themselves. I hate it when people regard you as their slaves like you’re part of their property. They make you do all the things that they should be doing and then act like they have done you a big favor by making you a useful person.

I hate it when your neighbors and relatives meddle with your own affairs. They closely guard you and see what you’ve done or if you’re doing anything at all. They’d spread word that you just bum around the house, and what a very useless piece of junk you are. I hate it when your kin act as if they’re concerned with your welfare, but the truth is that they can’t wait to see you torment and decompose. I hate it when the very person that destroys you is one of you.

I hate it when you ant to be left alone then all the people around you become nosy. I hate nosy people, why can’t they just mind their own businesses? I hate people who barge into someone else’s private and personal life yet they can’t get their own lives straight.

I hate it when somebody eyes you with suspicion as if every move you make would violate the Ten Commandments, or the Family Code or even the Laws of Gravity. They’d act like they’re some kind of living saint, pointing out to you that you’re doing something wrong. You can’t accuse them of anything or tell them all the things they’ve done (or doing) is wrong. Because by then you’d be the one who’d appear to be a saint.

I hate it when you’ve got everything well planned then something, or worse, everything goes wrong. That’s the thing about life, when you’ve got everything well figured out the wires short circuit, go bonkers and blow up.

I hate it when you’ve got to work early in the morning and you can’t sleep because of insomnia. I hate it when you’re in a bad mood, wallowing in pain, or if you got up on the wrong side of the bed and people ask you what’s wrong. They’d tell you you’re not like that because you are a sunny, happy and funny person. FUCK! Don’t have I the right to feel bad? Do I have to always crack jokes, laugh and smile perpetually? Hell! I’m made of flesh and blood and not with sugar and cream.

I hate it when the things you believe in are the same things that would make you cynical. I hate it when life drags you by the hair and pull you, yank you to the ground, swing you in the air, wag you around and just throw you inside a pit.

I hate it when you’ve learned to like somebody and suddenly they have to go away. I hate it when you have to part ways with somebody you have learned to love. I hate goodbyes and to avoid it I should learn not to “say hello”.

I hate it when you learn that you are the same person you despise. I hate it when people seem to like you but really doesn’t. They hate your guts and just pretend that they like you. There’s nothing more I hate than phoniness and hypocrisy.

I hate it when your hopes are fading and soon you won’t have any to hold on to. It’s like walking in a long, cold, soggy, dark tunnel and there’s no light at the end of it. What’s worse is that you have reached the end and there’s a grate made of thick metal—you can’t get out. You can’t go back neither because you are lost, you are trapped!

I hate it when your time is running out and you still haven’t accomplished anything. You’re still thinking of what to do when the bell rings and you have to show your work. And all you’ve got is a blank sheet of paper.

I hate it when people judge you by your looks, the clothes that you wear, your educational attainment, people you hang out with, the schools you’ve attended, the things you own, the people you know… and regard you as an incompetent. I hate prejudgment, I hate stigma. I hate it when they do that because it lowers down one’s self-esteem further down below zero degrees. I hate it when life gives you a good time for two minutes, and give you hell for a millennium. I hate it when time goes by so fast when you’re enjoying and really slow when you’re waiting.

I hate it when I feel good about myself then by the time I look in the mirror the illusion shatters as the mirror does. I hate looking in mirrors because it just reminds me how bad I look, and every time I look in all I see is the face of a loser.

I hate it when you have to be civilized around people you abominate. You just want to run screaming because you can’t contain your fury anymore. I hate it when you can’t express what’s on your mind because people just might hate you. But then again, who are they anyway?

I hate it when people abuse you because you are generous to a fault, which makes you a stupid idiot. I also hate it when some people have much more than they need and some have none—like myself. I hate it when the bad ones prosper and the good ones suffer. You’ve worked hard and fair, you tried your best to be good and do no harm to your fellowmen, and those who do the exact opposite are the ones who prosper.

I hate myself sometimes, actually, most of the time because I’m such a sore loser.

I hate being called nice because I know that I’m not. And I hate it when people seem nice to me just because they feel that it’s their moral obligation. You are not obliged to be good to me. I would prefer to be smashed on the head than to be smiled at if that’s what you truly want to do. You can be honest with me because I really couldn’t stand hypocrisy.

I hate Barney, the purple dinosaur. If ever I have kids I wouldn’t let them watch any of those videos.

I hate being asked why am I like this and that. I don’t have to explain myself. Hell! I couldn’t comprehend what’s going on inside my brain, what makes you think you can?

I hate Pepsi blue soda. I don’t believe that it’s cola, 7-up with blue coloring maybe, I am a Coke addict.

I hate basketball.

I hate it when people tell me “I’d call you later” and they don’t. don’t say that you’d call if you wouldn’t. I understand that I’m not a priority, but please understand that I’m expecting a call from you because you said you would call. I don’t mind the wait, I just really hate it when people make me wait on false hopes.

I hate prudes. I hate to be branded. I hate to be compared to anybody, I am my own self. And be fair, the other person might be insulted to be compared to a loser like me.

I’m tired of hating but I can’t help it, because there’s not much things for me to love anymore.

scatter brain

after a long week, and after someone has left, back to normal.
hahahahahha!!!!

'kala mo propeysyunal!

the throbbing stops
after a succession
of blows you get tired
you lose consciousness
then you
will wake up again,
you're still you...
except for some bruises
except for the shame
you're still you
after all of these
you're still you
except that you will
never again look
someone straight
in the eye.
but you're still you

after everybody regarded
you as a scum
you're still you
except that now
they will spit on you,
but you're still you

no one recognizes you
anymore
but you're still you
despite all the dirt
all the stink
and all the shame

you're still you...

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MESSAGE IN A BEER BOTTLE POISON IN A PACK

i wrote this piece a couple of years back, back when i was still a
very stupid moron. now i know better, and so much happier with
my life. the charcters i've been with in the past may have a miserable
life, and i couldn't care less...

AS THE EMBER FLICKER IN A SAD GLOW
OF POISON, THE SMOKE RISES ENTERING
MY LUNGS; FILLING IT WITH MEPHITIC
ESSENCE. AND VILE NOTIONS CONJURE
TO COME IN.
A THOUSAND SPENT FILTERS PILE, LIKE
MOUNTAINS OF FIBER CLOTHED IN RED
PAPER TUBES--ASHES FOR A HEAD
AS THE STICK SLOWLY BURN TO THE END
THE GRIM COLLECTS WHAT IS DUE:
A SECOND, A MINUTE, AN HOUR OR A DAY
THE PINKISH SOFT MASS IN MY SKULL
BLACKENS WITH SMOKE, BURNING HOLES
IGNITING NEURONS MAKING IT NUMB

INVISIBLE POISON AMALGAMATED WITH
THE SPIRIT OF VOLATILE ANAESTHETIC ALCOHOL
RENDERS MY CEREBRATION DEAD OF
SENSATION AND LOGICAL CLARITY.
WHERE SHOULD I LAY DOWN NOW?
MY BED IS UNMADE, AND FULL OF VOMIT
THE MIXTURE IS MAKING MY TONGUE THICK

AND MY HANDS TREMBLE TO A SICKENING DEGREE
EACH STEP I TAKE IS A TANGO IN TUNE
WITH DIZZINESS AND NAUSEA
NEON SIGNS PASS BY LIKE FIREFLIES
IN RUSH HOUR TRAFFIC IN THE MORNING
I SHOULDN'T HAVE DROWNED MY HEARTACHE
I SHOULDN'T HAVE PUNISHED MYSELF
BELIEVING THAT THE PAIN WOULD GO AWAY
OR THAT MY HEART WOULD BE NUMB JUST
LIKE MY BRAIN, AND MY TONGUE
THE DEMONS ARE AROUND ME NOW, GRINNING
AND LAUGHING AT MY STUPID BEHAVIOR
THEIR I-TOLD-YOU-SO'S ECHOING LOUDLY
I CAN FEEL NOW THE NICOTINE AND
THE ALCOHOL BURN MY STOMACH AND MY SKULL
MY CEREBRUM SENDING GARBLED MESSAGES,
TWISTED IMAGES PARADE BEFORE MY BLURRY EYES
YOU ARE STILL THERE; STARING AT ME, MOCKING ME.
YOU REMIND ME OF MY MISERY,
SQUEEZING MY HEART
EXTRACTING BLOOD, TURNING THAT MUSCLE INTO
A PULP OF ARTERIES AND VEINS
I WOULD STILL WAKE UP IN THE MORNING,
THE ALCOHOL WOULD VANISH AND THE SMOKE
WOULD LEAVE MY LUNGS GRAY AND UNHEALTHY
THE HANGOVER WOULD BE GONE AFTER I TAKE A BATH

BUT THE PAIN IN MY HEART WOULD REMAIN
LIKE A SCAR ON MY SKIN, LIKE A BRUISE
ON MY FOREHEAD, LIKE THE MOLE ON MY NECK
YOUR FACE IS TATTOOED ON MY MIND
AND CANNOT BE ERASED BY THE SUBSTANCE,
THE POISON THAT I TAKE...

TEMPORAL

AS ELECTRIC PULSES THROB IN THE BRAIN
SIGNALS OF PAIN ARE BLOCKED AT EVERY NERVE ENDING
LETHAL SUBSTANCES SURFING IN MY BLOODSTREAM
TRIGGERS CONVULSIONS, TREMORS SO INTENSE
IF MY MORTAL BODY SURPASSES ALL OF THESE
AND TRANSCEND THE PANGS OF FLESH EATERS
I WOULD PUT ON MY WINGS BACK
AND DREAM IN BLACK AND WHITE

our lives... the ultimate beauty pageant.

we are all here, compelled to show how big our dicks are, and how much jizz we can load out our cannons. that's the matter with life. life is a big fucking beauty contest, a wrong grammar would earn you shame, but would leave a very large dent in everybody's scrambled brains.
the thing is every moment of our lives is patterned after a song, a movie or a tv show, not the other way around. there's this irritable force that pushes us to hear the original motion picture soundtrack everytime our existence takes a plunge, or a leap whatever the case maybe. and the worst part is that every zit faced teener with bangs covering half of their faces would regard his/herself as the "emo" demigod!!!! whoa, man! i think that 90% of all these "emo" fanatics are virtually clueless of what their idols are wailing about, it's just hormones man, major big fucking hormones. after a couple of years you'd outgrow it.
everyone in the workforce makes a fuss of who they are wearing, it's a sick thing of bothering yourself if the shirt on your back appears in the latest glossy. sick!sick!sick! please don't give a fuck if the people in the MRT would project you as someone fashionable, nyuck!!! as far as i'm concerned everybody wants to be different which makes a full circle turn and they all end up exactly just like everybody else. all these "differently clothed" pa-cool, cigarette-smoking, uber-hangin
call center "ooh-i'm-so-good-at-speaking-english-i-don't-even- understand-what-i-say"
agents, are the perfect example that one cannot display intelligence and taste just by having an american twang, and by wearing ivy-leagueish vests in this hot, tropical country!
everybody here wears havaianas "flip-flops" because everybody thinks that it's the ultimate-syosyal tsinelas. tough luck i'm not wearing a pair, and never in my dreams would i... my beachwalk tsinelas(es) are the best damn thing since sliced kamote.