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What's your favorite disguise? [/meta]
posted by letter shredder @ 11:59 a.m. on 1/20/2006
"Great art is about conflict and pain and guilt and longing and love disguised as sex and sex disguised as love..."                                           -- Lester Bangs, Almost Famous
This one is by Coy, one of his posts I never grow tired of reading (and I don't know why).
She sits still, as quiet as can be, book in hand. I look up as she turns the page. Her eyes already on me as though she knew that would get my attention. She calmly smiles, and I smile back. I close my book and walk towards the door. I stop at the door and glance back. She is gone.
As I approach my car, I hear the sound of gears shifting and the ratcheting of a bicycle chain. I turn in time to hear her whisper. I ask her to repeat it. But she continues on. I turn back towards the car. I see her reflection as she rides off. I turn to watch. She is gone.
As I sit down to dinner with my friends I hear the wind blow against the chimney. The resturaunt is packed with people hurrying through life, but in the distance I see her at the bar. She stares me cold in the eye. I excuse myself and walk over to her but get cut off by the hostess and a crowd of people. She is gone.
The taxi pulls up in front of my building. The sound of a siren can be heard in the distance and she is standing outside my door. I smile as I approach her. She does not smile back. Instead she pulls up her sleeves to show her torn wrists. Stained red. I rush to help but feel weak. The world begins fading out and then in with each beat of my heart. I reach my hands up to her as she reaches toward me. Her hands as mine. The damaged hands are mine not hers. As she stands over me a note drops from her pocket.
I exited the metro and chose to go home to my parents in Cavite last Friday due to the political tension that arose last Friday on Ayala Avenue (just about 5 1/2 cartwheels away from the office).
I enjoyed the weekend despite being bothered by what can actually happen to the country, to the business, and to my friends who work in the media. I was able to spend two days with my baby brother. I was able to watch TV and saw my official cosmopolitan beef who is now endorsing a multivitamin.
And last night, I had a short conversation with my mom:
ME: Mom, I just realized that despite the resemblance, Sydney (my sister) and I look differently.
MOM: Each of you (siblings) looks differently.
ME: (*discerning the truth*, without any pause) Who's my father?
MOM: (*plays along*) I don't exactly remember.
I wonder how many times a week my parents think of what they've done wrong in bringing me up.
Why English teachers die young: Actual Analogies and Metaphors in High School Essays
1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides, you know like gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
2. His thoughts tumbled around in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free softener.
3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at solar eclipses without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
6. Her vocabulary was as bad as -- like -- whatever.
7. He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.
8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock -- like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM.
9.The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball would not.
10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.
12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.
16.John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East River.
18. Even in his last years, my Grandpappy had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long that it had rusted shut.
19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
20. The plan was simple, just like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just actually might work.
21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
23.The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, just like a dog at a fire hydrant.
24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing their kids around waving power tools at them.
25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.
26. Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any pH cleanser.
27.She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.
28. It really hurt! like the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.
In grade school, boys run after me. Not that I was too gorgeous as a kid nor I play cops and robbers a lot but because these boys probably think they have to get back at me.
Why?
Because I was so fond of calling guys names including "gay."
Franco was my first victim when I was in second grade. He was in fifth by then. The next year, Jeremy in the fourth grade was running after me because I called him "mosquito" (my cousin told me so).
When I was in fourth grade, a high school student was running after me on the basketball court on the coronation night in our school. After that night, I learned my lesson and I was too afraid of walking on the school grounds alone because he'd chase me even before the flag ceremony. One time, he even went to my classroom. Why his reaction was most violent? Because it was true that he's gay (and probably because it took only minutes for a fourth grader to tell him that).
But that didn't stop there. Because I also had guys crying and I was sent to the guidance counselor for these instances. But I wasn't issued a violation report nor had my parents called. The counselor probably thought I was telling the truth.
Karma Part
While in the university, I belonged to a college where men are considered endangered species, because 90 percent of the male population was gay. The guys end up together. And we were too lucky to form a basketball team of (allegedly) straight males. And if you come from the same college, you've probably heard of: Engineering guys love Mass Comm girls; Mass Comm guys love Engineering guys.
In my first year, I met Chuck. Almost everyone had a crush on him. He was sweet and brooding. After a year, we found out he's gay. My high school friend who also knew him and liked him a lot had to spend some nights drinking because of what we found out.
John was the first guy I became close with in the college block that I come from. After a year, it seems that he found home in the college and finally came out. In my third year, it was not surprising to see Chuck and John together.
In checking out guys, my friends and I have two (inherent) steps to follow: (1) to check if he is cute and (2) to check whether he is gay or not.
In the office, on the first day of training, I noticed gay magnet first. When I met the previous batch of trainees, my gaydar worked overtime helping me detect who are gay (but are still in the closet).
Then one time, I was walking along Ayala Avenue and had to cross the street when I saw this cute guy. I was looking at him straight in the eye when I noticed that he was looking at someone beside me. And I didn't even catch him blink. I turned to my right...
And standing beside me is gay magnet!
I have lots of gay encounters I can start another blog.
I have nothing against gays. In fact, I have lots of friends (yeah, just friends) who are gay (don't panic, I'm not mentioning names). At times though, I rant and laugh about this because it seems too unfair. There's a 1:4 ratio of male to female and the males still end up together. And I still remember the times when me and my friends thought of finding gays whom we could ask to be donors... for a sperm bank.
At present, the Philippines is (again) overwhelmed by the assistance provided by foreign countries. Kudos to Carl Djerassi for his inventions! Not that I'm endorsing it, but I just hope more people would be more cautious and recognize his science as soon as possible.
I have nothing much to rant or blog about. So I just want to share this song by Radiohead, the one on my sidebar.
I just read these men's stories. I have a lot of guy friends and I've seen most of them cry when they got their hearts broken, some crushes included. But reading these stories still gives me a new perspective about men. "You still have a lot to understand," my business mentor Obi-Wan says. He says it also comes with age.
Have I loved? Yes. A lot of times. Probably only in a different perspective which I don't expect everyone to understand.
But however different it may be, there is still a heart prone to being broken. There's still pain.
Unlike the previous years, I do not intend to incite a mob nor promote a red-shirt day today.
First, I have to (publicly) apologize to my dates (re: My Funny Valentine with Rex Navarrete) because I cannot join them tonight. I won't give any excuse 'coz whether I give one or not won't make a difference, I still won't be going.
At the same time, I've got good news because his manager from MTV happens to be my schoolmate in gradeschool and she's giving me the privilege of inviting friends to Rex's show at The Fort for FREE!!! We can meet the guy and my friend said she can probably give us some CDs as well. So check your schedules on the 21st or 23rd, it would most probably be in the evening.
As much as I can understand what the witness said, I cannot help myself not to raise an eyebrow...
THE WITNESS: I had my first job doing a superintendent at a subdivision...
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I just changed my cellphone number and I haven't informed him yet. When he'll find out, I don't know. How he would react when he finds out, I also don't know. But that may easily be covered up with a lie.
If I'm willing to lie another time. I've lied for a long time (even to myself) I don't know if another one would still make a difference.
The thought of not informing him is tempting because it's a means of getting even for the neglect and the pain. At the same time, I'd only be running away from it.
Call me weak, but to be honest, I just really want to run away from him and from all the things that happened in the past that I have not resolved until now.
It's Feb. 14 and I am (again) posting about this, another reason to let go of him and let me reflect on what I can just hold on to. And I only have memories of years of friendship.
Years I felt left out.
As much as I want to say he caused a lot of pain, I also hold myself accountable for whatever I am in right now.
Being responsible also gives me the choice and ability to do something about it.
Oh, yes! Next week is Fair Week. Concerts every night at the UP Sunken Garden!
Last year was a blast since, amidst meeting the requirements and taking midterm exams, I got to attend almost every night and got in for free. The organization I was affiliated to has bands that were invited to perform, ergo backstage pass. I also know some people from the sororities and fraternities that were sponsoring so there was no problem getting tickets for friends.
Now that I'm working and I don't live in Quezon City anymore, I'd probably go for the Saturday sked. So if anyone's going, just drop me a line.
FEBRUARY 13: MONDAY Sugarfree Kitchie Nadal Brownman Revival Radioactive Sago Project Giniling Festival Up Dharma Down Stonefree Indio I Reggae Mistress Lokal Grounation Mobster Manila Opressed Woodland Humble Sauce Nail Polish Dayhike Soapdish Cheese Greyhoundz Kapatid
FEBRUARY 14: TUESDAY Love is in the Air Orange and Lemons Moonstar88 Kamikazee Blue Ketchup Hale Sugarfree Brownman Revival Imago 6CycleMind Pedicab Itchyworms Giniling Festival
FEBRUARY 15: WEDNESDAY POP-fiesta Cheese Kamikazee Moonstar 88 Parokya ni Edgar Brownman Revival Kjwan Queso 18th issue The Youth Mayonnaise Itchyworms Soapdish Typecast Valley of Chrome Agape Kampai Aizo Tsuper Trios Balaraw ni Miguel Nimb Naima Frustrated Valentine Cashmere Concrete Sam Tio Pilo Candy Audio Line Tether Apollo Creed Guilty by Cause Dystopia Monkshood Giniling Festival
FEBRUARY 16: THURSDAY Sisfire4 Bamboo Hale Kitchie Nadal Barbie Almalbis Cueshe Cheese Spongecola Sugarfree KJWAN Mojofly 6Cycle Mind Stonefree
FEBRUARY 17: FRIDAY SchizoFAIRnia II Eraserfest
FEBRUARY 18: SATURDAY CPR: Calibrated Pinoy Rock Matilda Kamikazee Karatula The Jerks Imago Brownman Revival Machinegun Giniling Festival Radio Active Sago Project Datus Tribe Juan Dela Cruz Band Kiko Machine Parokya ni Edgar The Wuds Up Dharma Down UP Underground Music Community Bands UP Music Circle Bands College of Fine Arts Bands College of Music Bands
And I thought that he was the densest thing in the universe next to the black hole. I was wrong.
He is the black hole personified.
I did everything I can to salvage whatever's left. And until now, he still doesn't understand me. He hates my guts. He hates my activities (including blogging). He thinks I make stupid decisions. He blames me when things don't happen as planned even if he voluntarily participates in them.
I don't feel comfortable being with him anymore. I'm afraid that the moment I speak, he'd laugh as if to say, "Good luck!" It always happens and I'm tired to explain just to make sense.
That's his opinion and, whether it's true or not, it's valid.
But why can't he just let me be?
I'm fed up.
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Dense: 1. Slow to apprehend; thickheaded 2. Difficult to understand because of complexity or obscurity 3. Hard to penetrate
It was one of the nights that I got home early. I was watching TV when I received a text message from my sister, Sydney. She wants me to buy a complete costume of Robin (Batman's better half assistant).
Of course, it isn't for herself but for my 4-year-old brother, Gavin. According to Sydney, he also wants a "Justig Lig costug," too (Justice League costume).
I was 17 when Gavin was born. When he was barely a year old, at times, I was mistaken as his mom, accused of not taking sex education seriously therefore increasing the rate of early pregnancy. If that were true, then I must be preggy by 16 and I wonder if they thought of statutory rape as an alternative cause.
I was in college and could possibly go home on weekends. However, I'd stick out to go to school at 3:00 a.m. and reach home at 8:00 p.m. just to see him. It was fun to wake up seeing him crawling up my bed. At times, he'd wake me up by hitting my face with his arm.
One time, he wanted to play smackdown. On the bed, he jumped and his head hit my lower jaw. I wanted to check if he was okay coz I know he hurt his head, but I started crying and I can already taste blood. My tongue bled. He didn't cry though and just held his head. As for me, I wasn't able to eat the whole day.
My brother is already growing up, even faster than I expected. Last week, my mom said Gavin wants to go to IS (International School) and he insists that my mom provides him a cellphone so he could call my dad if he has to fetch him earlier of later. He even refused the cellphone my sister was offering him because he wanted a clamshell type (talking about capitalism at an early age).
Last night, through my sister's phone, he texted, "Ddmgamwtpgwm#atmdm3gjtjjaja ga+mda gjt+." Thanks to my sister, she translated it for me: Justice League costume.
I replied by telling him to drink his milk and brush his teeth. And he texted, "A ja gdmjmajtwmpdm jta gdmg dpg+tmw." Again, the translation: I am having a hard time to text. Yes, I already brushed my teeth. I have a new toothbrush.
My brother? Here he is...
Of course, his crazy eldest sister...
...wondering how students felt when they had to bring stone tablets to school to take notes.
Oil, power, fare rates up 12-percent VAT takes effect today
Only now that I am employed that I began to be really conscious of two words: TAX and INCREASE.
Earlier, Senator Mar Roxas (with his Mr. Palengke credibility) was interviewed in a short segment at Unang Hirit. He seemed to memorize the prices of goods most consumers would start wondering (and complaining) about.
In a way, it was also educating (*smirks*) that he emphasized that the 2-percent increase would only be affecting processed goods (they seem to think that pigs, cows, and chickens walk to the market to be killed and sold, vegetables are harvested on the tables of the vendors or roll down from Baguio, and fish swim from Cebu and Batangas).
When asked how the people would benefit from the increase, he said that the Senate is still not sure. WHAAAT! Still according to him, about P75 billion is expected to be generated from the increase.
Is 10 percent not enough to fund government functions and trips (which are often at home or with friends and family)???
As for employers, they only avoid two words which everyone looks forward to: SALARY INCREASE.
I could only wish that my height increases as fare, power, and oil price do.
But if that ever comes true, I'd be taller than Yao Ming in a span of one year.