Roads (Part I)

When I was five, Kakay, the infamous "manghuhula" in our barrio, read my palm and saw in my lines that I will go places. My parents took it figuratively thinking that I will be a famous singer as evident from my long and uninterrupted crying that broke records. Decades later, it seems that the prophecy was wrong. I've never been famous and the farthest I've reached in my "singing career" was joining in a church choir that performed in a local cable with the lowest audience share. But with some introspection, I've realized that Kakay was not wrong after all; she just meant it literally. For more than three years now, I've been traveling all over for my job. The long stretches of trips cost my weekend, my horizontally growing waistline, and my constant "catching up with life" stance. Who would not want to travel to interesting places for free? But when travel is mixed with work, it strips all the romance.

I would know if I have traveled far too long when my laundry becomes a national issue. I deal with my laundry the way our country is dealing with the foreign debt. "Iniiwasan hangga't maari."

I would also know if I've traveled far too much when I wake up confused not knowing where I am. It's like a rock star lifestyle when you're life revolves around checking in and out in far too many hotels that you've become disoriented. Except that I don't live the room messy and I actually arrange the sheets upon waking up. If I would document my eclectic hotel experiences, it would be as thick as Agatha Christie's Miss Marple Stories. As what most rock stars would say, if the hotel is good, everything else will follow. I had this weird experience once when I was billeted to a dingy staff house. It was on the second floor of a lumber store, there were no curtains, the bathroom light was not working, and there were no linens. It was a perfect house in Mexican films where Mafias hide their hostage for ransom. The caretaker of the lumber store who ushered me into the room without his shirt on saw that the bed was bare and in his misguided attempt to kindness offered his blanket. "Mam, isang gabi ko pa lang naman nagamit yung kumot ko pahiram ko na lang muna sa 'yo." It was touching in a horrific way.

My travels also made me understand why some Cebuanos resented the fact Filipino (Tagalog) is the national language. Sixty to seventy percent of the Filipinos speak Cebuano. As an Ilongga, I have the advantage because I can very well understand Cebuano. I can also understand Bicolano and Waray. I've been frequenting Ilocos but learning the dialect is a challenge. It seems that it is far more complicated than Bahasa.

After a decade of riding planes, am still stressed with air turbulence and sudden dips. Planes make me extremely conscious of my mortality. There was one stormy trip from Tagbilaran to Manila where the plane suddenly dipped several meters while braving through a typhoon. While praying hard and clutching painfully my arm rest, I thought of the last will that I've never made and resolved to arrange it when I can make it alive. Death by plane crash though how glamorous is very painful.

Jeeps, buses (with signals that bear "report any suspicious baggage"), tricycle, trisikad, pot-pot, taxis, van (with names like van-vans) habal-habal--these are my road buddies. They have their own peculiarities but however inconvenient some of them are, I regard them with much respect. Road trips, if you would really succumbed to the experience, are therapeutic and existential. Except the sun.

A reliable and eclectic playlist can also make traveling a little more interesting. Katy Perry and Lady Gaga are perfect for bumpy roads. Dave Matthews is for early morning cross country ride. Chicosci is for early evening in a superhighway running on a 120. Smashing Pumpkins and Stone Temple Pilots are for nostalgic kicks while wondering where did all the good times go. For heavy traffic, the ambient sound of Brian Eno can induce calmness and peace. Steve Jobs really made a profound contribution to humanity by inventing ipod.

Books are another reliable travel buddy. It takes up much space but I feel that traveling is not complete without it. Dubliners, a collection of short stories by James Joyce, is one of my favorites. I also like books with illustrations. Breakfast of the Champions by Kurt Vonnegut is perfect. When I am in the mood for some serious current events, like the status of Jennifer Aniston's love life or did Rayver Cruz really cheat on Sarah, I succumbed to the comforts of Yes Magazine.

Between Going and Coming

Between Going and Coming

Between going and staying the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.
The circular afternoon is now a bay
where the world in stillness rocks.

All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can't be touched.

Paper, book, pencil, glass,
rest in the shade of their names.

Time throbbing in my temples repeats
the same unchanging syllable of blood.

The light turns the indifferent wall
into a ghostly theater of reflections.

I find myself in the middle of an eye,
watching myself in its blank stare.

The moment scatters. Motionless,
I stay and go: I am a pause.


Octavio Paz

Review of Related Videos

I was browsing some old videos in youtube, Silverchair's Tomorrow in particular, when I realized that every video I searched somehow reminds me of significant persons and events so oddly vivid and real. MTV created a dominant sub-culture that even sociologists could not contest. It's not just a mixture of movements, effects, and sounds but an experience that appears to a particular place, to a particular person, at a particular time. For more than two decades of being a cult-follower of mtv, I thought of listing my top 10 favorite music videos. For posterity, as always.

1. Black Hole Sun (Soundgarden)- i love the song for its melancholic yet beautiful melody. It epitomizes the 90's rock. This is where my Cornell-worship started. I also remembered cursing Ms. Parcon's algebra class. One of the best years of my life.

2. Walking After You (Foo Fighters) - I don't know what the video was trying to say, two people who want each other but can't have each other because the woman seems to be inside a hospital or an asylum. The song was part of the X-Files soundtrack. Inspite of its being unfathomable, i liked it.

3. Mr. Brightside (The Killers) - the song really comes in handy especially in the morning when I do some stretches. Apparently, the video was inspired by Moulin Rouge which explains the extravagance of costume of the showgirls/burlesque dancers.

4. Tomorrow (Silverchair) - I love Daniel Johns! Inspite of his infamous personal life (he developed anorexia from listening to his own songs), he's one of the most prolific songwriters ever. How can he possibly formed Silverchair at age 12!

To be continued

The more tragic the better?

I watched Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince few weeks ago when the HP6 frenzy has already subsided. Book 6 is probably one of the darkest installments of Harry Potter. A sense of foreboding creeps through the scenes. Story-wise, it's also the most unpopular. That's why most of the people I know have unexciting comments about the movie. Maybe we are used to the "cheerio" days when Harry was just starting to discover quidditch. Still, the movie lived up to the dark theme of book 6. Anybody whose idea of a good movie is 90% action would not really be endeared to this sixth installment especially that the movie was concluded with the death of Dumbledore. But I liked it. Is it Alanis who once said, "the more tragic the better?" There you go.

Soon, said I will know...

I always set my alarm clock at 6:00 AM but I usually wake up an hour late. The alarm reminds me that I still have an hour to sleep. I really mastered procrastination. I finished Dan Brown's Deception Point last night and after reading two of his other novels, Angels and Demons and Da Vinci Code, I could almost picture how the story will end. I don't own much of new books. I am big fan of classic literature and 80% of the books I own were published during the 50's until the early 80's in the likes of Sherlock Holmes. I've been listening to Smashing Pumpkin's old album and Billy Corgan's line just stuck in my head, "soon, said i will know." I think it has some relevance in my state of mind and heart right now. For some reason, it is comforting.

Wake Up!

There are days when thoughts just flow freely but there are also days that you just can't think of anything to write. Then you start wondering about the days when you always have interesting things to say about your life or always think of things to make it appear a little more interesting. I miss the days. Maybe I blame it on sheer indolence. Or perhaps the succession of busy days makes one's mind inept of lucid thoughts. This, i think is a signal for me to pause amidst the chaos and superficiality of things around; to not let a day pass without seizing it. The words of Goethe seem to give my thoughts a certain direction again.

"What you don't feel, you will not grasp by art,
Unless it wells out of your soul
And with sheer pleasure takes control,
Compelling every listener's heart.
But sit - and sit, and patch and knead,
Cook a ragout, reheat your hashes,
Blow at the sparks and try to breed
A fire out of piles of ashes!

Sympathy

I have barely three months to prepare for my comprehensive exams and i have not started any form of review. I expect sleepless nights a month before the compre. Indolence at its best. I intend to graduate October but the way things are going, it's near to impossible. I have to pass my comprehensive exams, at the very least. I'm thriving in an orderly chaotic life with lots of Taking Back Sunday, Bomberman, and almost weekly provincial field work. I had a close encounter with tarsiers last Wednesday when i went to Bohol. They look friendly, or rather bored. The caretaker said that they were sleepy, hah, at least they have big eyes to fake it. Since they are nocturnal creatures, they're supposed to sleep during daytime. But they're forced to be awake so as not to let down the visitors who came from far places just to see their big eyes batting. My heart goes for the tarsiers.

Bye, Bye Kurt...So it goes...

I received a text message from my best buddy, Karen, informing that Kurt Vonnegut died at 84. We lost a literary hero. With books like Breakfast of the Champions, Slaugtherhouse –Five, and others, Vonnegut’s writings made our College days tolerable; satiated our hunger for real literary experience. I remember the time when I borrowed Breakfast of the Champions in the library; the book was old since it was still published in 1973 but when I read the first few pages, I became an instant Vonnegut-convert. Karen and I cannot get enough of Dwayne Hoover and Kilgore Trout’s characters. For a week or so, we think, write, and feel like Kilgore Trout, sketching anything we can think of in my “green book”, like Trout’s girl’s underpants. With lines like “If you want to hurt your parents but don’t have the guts to be a homosexual, go to the arts instead”, we were hooked. We followed Kurt’s life and writings, even to the point of emulating him. In one of his writings, he made some comments about getting old. For someone who once attempted suicide, he regards death from old age as a semi-colon, not a period (as what he thought Hemingway did when he committed suicide). In most of his writings, he never failed to mention about the pains of getting old. The only thing he said that stops him from committing suicide again is because he wants to set a good example to his children. Vonnegut once said that of all the ways to die, he'd prefer to go out in an airplane crash on the peak of Mount Kilimanjaro. He died from brain injuries after a recent fall from his Manhattan home. We are crestfallen. It made me remember one of his thoughts about death from his novel Slaugtherhouse Five. It captures everything:
The most important thing I learned on Tralfamadore was that when a person dies he only appears to die. He is still very much alive in the past, so it is very silly for people to cry at his funeral. All moments, past, present and future, always have existed, always will exist. The Tralfamadorians can look at all the different moments just that way we can look at a stretch of the Rocky Mountains, for instance. They can see how permanent all the moments are, and they can look at any moment that interests them. It is just an illusion we have here on Earth that one moment follows another one, like beads on a string, and that once a moment is gone it is gone forever.

So they finally took notice....

Martin Scorsese finally won an Oscar! To say that it was unexpected is an understatement. I am a Scorsese fan and when I heard that he’s directing The Departed, the Hollywood adaptation of Infernal Affairs, it was a sweet anticipation. Having seen Scorsese’s previous films like Gangs of New York, Raging Bull, The Taxi, etc., The Departed, although chic and precisely made (with a fabulous casts), somehow lack the “winnability” to win an Oscar. He could have won many years ago with his more intense films. Still, I think Scorsese’s first Oscar is long overdue and the many years of going home empty handed had compounded many times over. It’s a guilt-free victory.

sullen thoughts....

There are varied reasons why people are holding on to us and would not let us go. Sometimes, it is not only that we are good, or nice, or generous, but rather it is more about their dependency, their psychological need that sadly, could never be satiated. Well of course, it’s always easy to let go of someone who does not serve whatever kind of purpose. Since our organization is undergoing some major movement in terms of structure, it follows that people, as part of that organization, should also be a part of that step forward. My boss, whom I regard dearly, would not let me go for the mere reason that she just can’t. I think that it’s not because that we were together for a long time, or I could write (her thoughts), or she needs my thesis to evaluate her program, or that I’m polite or respectful. I always believe that no one is indispensable. Our country has a surplus of talented and intelligent people who could write and speak excellent English, make and analyze intricate plans, and are well-motivated. She plans of putting or continuing the same organization with only the three of us (another officemate). She did not even ask if I’m interested with the prospect. She laid my future, for at least three years, to fit her own needs; meanwhile, suspending my life. I was caught red handed; unable to speak nor to react. She really had her way with people. I felt helpless. It is just so ironic that for someone who advocates for human rights could not let her thoughts be heard and just went blank. My head is throbbing and I think caffeine could not save me this time.

Farm Fairy Days '06

10-7-06

The book launching of lola went well. Few people attended, expectedly. Since the book does not contain anything related to sex, music, or standard novel plot, it’s a very technical read. During the dedication part, she made this really intended stunt, which I expected even before she opened her mouth. “I also thank Sister Lasalette for painstakingly……” Oh yeah, I saw it coming. They were so happy about it saying that those were prophetic words of some sort. Was it really prophetic or apocalyptic? They never gave up recruiting me. I don’t know what they saw in me that made them think I fit the perpetually chaste life.

I was absent from class again. It really worries me since they took integral calculus that spells doom. Dr. Tatlonghari thought that I was absent because I was avoiding my Development Eco report. Even my excuse letter that explicitly says that I am suffering from a bad case of LBM did not suffice. Haha. He became a PhD for nothing.

Still have to refine my report. I have an overdose of Karl Marx, David Ricardo, Schumpeter, and Adam Smith. How I wish they are just members of rock bands; my life could have been easier.

Audioslave have a new album just released, Revelation. I’m not sure if Francis Reyes already featured this on his New Album Review on NU, hopefully not yet. I was able to listen to some of the tracks; politically charged lyrics. Maybe I’m still stuck to Chris Cornells’ Euphoria Morning that it took a while to accept that he is now “raging.”

Integral calculus is so sleep-inducing, huummm. Nyt.

Diary of a Faithful Urbandub Minion

I am a huge Urbandub fan for so long but it was only last week that I saw them played live. When Come from their Birth album was released several years ago, I became and instant Urbandub-convert. So when Rock U was set (sponsored by MISA-Ateneo) and I have no Saturday class the next day, it was such a sweet opportunity.

After three geological ages, my friend and I arrived at the venue. The venue was Dish which was quite good because the audio was perfect. There were several bands lined up for the night—Mojofly, Chicosci, Updharam Down, and of course Urbandub. The show started at 9:30, quite on time from their schedule. Two college bands played (Rugis and Spaceground?) They were good. One of the vocalists sounds like a cross between Audioslave and Pearljam without the angst. The place was full of hormonally-driven college kids. I think the average age of the crowd was 19, hah. What can I say, it served us right. I promised myself to be sober. I want to have this natural high. ChicoSci played first. I could still remember singing “Paris” at the top of my lunges many years ago, ‘Could I be so affected…will I stay on your mind, why am I so infected…” They were still known as ChicoScience before. God, their good and loud! I can’t believe that they played Paris (much to my delight), I felt like I just went out from college. I so love ChicoSci. They also played A Promise, one of my favorites. The crowd started huddling and jumping in front of the stage. Mojofly played next. Lougee is so enchanting on stage. They played the crowds’ favorite, Minamamalas, Tumatakbo, Mata, and this new Conditioner commercial jingle (which was okay because I’m using the same conditioner, hehehe). Updharma Down was the next one to play. I was able to watch their album launching produced by Terno production several months ago. They really played well. They have this distinct sound and style that is both catchy and peculiar. They’re one of the good bands that came out this year. I can’t wait for Urbandub to be on the stage. It’s more than two years that I had a real slam so I resolved to be near the stage and have a real slamming experience, nevermind if I wear a mini and a two-inch sandals. Nothing can stop me. After the sweet and slow anticipation, they came up the stage, loud and whole. To say that I was starstruck was an understatement. My mind went blank. They played several of songs, mostly from their Influence and Embrace album. The crowed was in a trance. They played Sailing, A New Tatoo, Frailty, Alert the Armory, Endless a Silent Whisper, Soul Searching, First of Summer, Safety in Numbers, etc…It was more than I expected. Everybody was ecstatic, high, and loud. If my memory serves me right, they played Alert the Armory first. My friend was already a bit tipsy but happy and well. We’re so lost in the songs. Somehow, Urbandub’s songs convey basic human thoughts and feelings, both transcending and mundane. And I am not being subjective. My feet were aching and my throat strained, but I can still last forever if only they had played more songs. So how can I end this? Maybe a line from their Endless, A Silent Whisper will sum up how good the night was.

“The world it turns with us
Hold me in closer, don’t let go of me
Now we close our eyes and let go to the night
The night we feel alive.”

My Mom was Here!

Rainy, Loud, and Not So Late

I was in dire need of something loud for months that when I heared that there’s this upcoming concert of local bands in tribute to the Apo Hiking Society, I took it as an opportune time. I was able to check a preview of that when Zack, a very good friend, texted me to watch ASAP on TV. The sala in the dorm was on its fullest during that portion. Due to sheer indolence or indecisiveness, I finally bought the ticket only on the day of the concert. Suffice it to say, we just make do of whatever obscure seats left available. I invited Zack to watch and I’m grateful he was interested to check out the concert too.

It was raining when we headed to the venue and Zack was soaking wet because of the rain. We’re supposed to buy a shirt but later decided that a strong aircon and a little projection will do the trick. Lots of people were already on the venue when we arrived but we waited for several minutes for the admission. I was there primarily for Chito, hehehe. Really good bands and my favorite ones were lined up for the night like Spongecola, Sandwich, Sugarfree, Parokya, etc. The Dawn was part of the tribute album and I was kinda disappointed that they did not play. As a perennial disease of local concerts, the show started late. After two geological ages, the show started. Parokya played first. What a good way to start the night. I could not believe that Chito and I were on the same roof I don’t know but the song Pumapatak connotes an entirely different meaning when Chito sung it, hehehe. Spongecola’s version of Nakapagtataka was so Spongecola-ish with Yael’s trademark voice and angst. He was somewhat out of breath after the song but it was a good performance. Sugarfree is one of the crowds’ favorite. They did a different twist of Batang-Bata that it sounds like it was truly their own composition. It sounds so good. Ebe is really one of the prolific musicians we have now. Of course, Orange and Lemons easily captured the hearts of the crowd with their Yakap sa Dilim. Haay. They have this way of making the song sounds like your hugging a very soft pillow in a rainy day. The musical arrangement was so soft to the ears. I was mesmerized by Drip’s version of Kabilugan ng Buwan. The voice and the beat were sexy and enchanting. I am a Barbie fan and I like the song When I Met You a lot but there was something wrong with the microphone when she sung. The vocals on some parts were hardly audible. Sandwich’s version of O ang Babae was okay. Awit ng Barkada of Itchyworms was also good. The showmanship added the flavor. Shamrock’s Paano was also good, it’s just that there was something wrong with the audio system that vibrated an annoying echo on the guitar. They should have checked it earlier. Blue Jeans of Rockstedy was okay. Imago did a different twist of Ewan, maganda. Of course, Kamikazee never fails to bring the house down. Hands down when it comes to showmanship. Doo Bidoo was great way to end the show. I am very partial to loud music. There were still lots of other bands played but could not remember well the line up. Zack’s favorite performer for the night was Sugarfree. We’re talking if Urbandub was considered to be a part of the album because they were visible in some interviews. But so was Martin Nievara. We dropped the topic. Apo made a very short appearance. After Kamikazee, people were still expecting for some bands to play but it was announced by myx VJ’s that the show was over. Zack was so into Heart Evangelista so I restrained my mouth from making comments. We headed home at around 10:30, which was early on my usual standard. But due to warning of eviction from the dorm, I abide by the rules.

A great show, a great company, on a rainy Friday night.

Grazie!

Gratitude is the language of the heart. Thank you Melai and Ron for helping me out in my Math Eco assignment. I'm specially touched for Melai's effort. She is not completely well yet she went extra mile for me. Madamo guid nga salamat.

Some moments of clarity

*I've been avoiding math all my life but it keeps on following me. I'm cursed. Is it because i am secretly in love with it? I have three chapters to read and i tried reading some pages last night but it was futile. Mindset, mindset.

*I'm supposed to graduate next sem but i still have another semester to go through. Want to finish this quick and clean so I could set a clear direction about my going home and staying there for good.

*Was everything worth it? Do I really have to learn my lesson the hard way? Was the road i took really a part of the obstacle challenge or could i have avoided it if i had been a little bit clever? Soliluqys.

*I owe my two friends a long letter. I used to write long letters before but somehow indolence keeps in the way.

*I've been listening to Dashboard Confessional's Dusk and Summer album. The album still sound sad and jaded. I think Dashboard Confessional is cursed for perpetual heartache.

*Life is a choice but somehow the choice is partially destined.

*I have much tolerance for persons with IQ problem but i can't stand conceit out of little knowledge.

Healthy in Paranoid Times

I'll be having my mid-year three-day vacation in a few weeks time and I have so much things to do but so little time. I miss home. I miss the serenity of the farm. I miss the mango tree in our sideyard. I miss the starry night on a clear summer sky. I miss deciphering clouds. I miss the MellonCollie and the Infinite Sadness record. I miss the feeling of being invincible that only youth can offer. Time is such a relative concept.

Few days ago, I had a coffee with a very good friend. We were just having this trivial conversation about relationships when out of nowhere, I cried. So it was like three times that I cried in public when I'm with him that I rushed to the comfort room to finish my pathetic stunt discretely. Looking back, it was not really pathetic. I feel like it was just one of those moments when my hormones are low that made my tear gland reacted so spontaneously. Oh well. It's good to be alive.
I saw this line from the site of Our Lady Peace, one of the good bands of my youth, "Healthy in Paranoid Times." How fitting.

Breathing Octavio

One of the poets that always leave me breathless is Octavio Paz. Paz is a Mexican poet who won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1990. He is also an essayist. His poetic corpus is nourished by the belief that poetry constitutes "the secret religion of the modern age." Got here three of my favorite poems that could suffice for one meal.

No More Cliches

Beautiful face
That like a daisy opens its petals to the sun
So do you
Open your face to me as I turn the page.

Enchanting smile
Any man would be under your spell,
Oh, beauty of a magazine.

How many poems have been written to you?
How many Dantes have written to you, Beatrice?
To your obsessive illusion
To you manufacture fantasy.

But today I won't make one more Cliché
And write this poem to you.
No, no more clichés.

This poem is dedicated to those women
Whose beauty is in their charm,
In their intelligence,
In their character,
Not on their fabricated looks.

This poem is to you women,
That like a Shahrazade wake up
Everyday with a new story to tell,
A story that sings for change
That hopes for battles:
Battles for the love of the united flesh
Battles for passions aroused by a new day
Battle for the neglected rights
Or just battles to survive one more night.

Yes, to you women in a world of pain
To you, bright star in this ever-spending universe
To you, fighter of a thousand-and-one fights
To you, friend of my heart.

From now on, my head won't look down to a magazine
Rather, it will contemplate the night
And its bright stars,
And so, no more clichés.



Between Going and Staying

Between going and staying the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.
The circular afternoon is now a bay
where the world in stillness rocks.

All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can't be touched.

Paper, book, pencil, glass,
rest in the shade of their names.

Time throbbing in my temples repeats
the same unchanging syllable of blood.

The light turns the indifferent wall
into a ghostly theater of reflections.

I find myself in the middle of an eye,
watching myself in its blank stare.

The moment scatters. Motionless,
I stay and go: I am a pause.

Stuck and Cursed

Time and again, traffic is one of the curses of the so-called civilization. Santolan to 20th Ave. would only take 15 min. on a clear road but on a chaotic 9 am road, it took me an hour. Added to the curse was manong driver's radio station that is the pinnacle of "ka-jologan". "Manong, pwede po palipat sa 107.5, NU?" He tried changing station for a while but his radio's frequency was seemingly stuck in ___#$. "Okay na lang po." I finally surrendered. I got an hour experience at Hades. So that was the start of my so-called thursday morning.