He has no idea how wrong he is.

"What are you doing here?"

That was it, five very condescending words that jump started our so-called relationship. We never really talked. His arrogance, even in his silence, was too much for my equally bulged-up ego, so, we just sat there, the sound of paper burning as we each raced our way down our respective cigarettes.

"I'm sorry."

***

September 23, 2:37pm

"Seeing each other" would be an understatement. The dynamics of our affiliation would be more like, "sleeping with each other". We never really went out. Not that I was asking him to introduce me to the world, but I was (on the surface) contented of how we were... in bed. He'd invite me to visit one of his monthly presentations and art exhibits in the university but I never really had the time nor was I ever trying my best to find some.

All of that was until I saw his toothbrush on my bathroom sink, properly, almost intentionally, artistically laid there, next to mine, this morning. And then there it was, those tiny volts of electric shock shooting from all over my fingers. I skimmed over my dresser and found that he had stocked his boxers, 2 pair of jeans and a few more shirts on my once-empty drawer.

I've known men just like him from way way before. Not that I've been with every men in the metro, but, he wasn't much for analyzing. Dense, immature, sometimes childish. The perfect reflection of how I have tried my very best to be like.

How we met was far from romantic at all. It was the very epitome of a one-night-stand. The kind where it happens almost every Saturday and then when everything else has been gradually established that it would be nothing more than a quick morning round or a late night surprise, he'd eventually, almost discreetly, move in with me.

We've been at this for almost 7 months now. None of us (at least from my POV) ever realizing that it has been this long.

***

September 23, 6:21am

The faint click from a distance signaled his arrival. Very soon, the showers would be turned on and then he'd snuggle himself into the-

"Good Morning." He suddenly whispers into my ear, an arm snaking its way inside my shirt around my hips.

I groaned, pretending that he had just woke me.

"Have you showered yet?" I asked, rather rhetorically.

"The shower can wait." And even with my back against him, I could see it, the very smile that I've only seen on his face whenever we were about to do it, sometimes after. And one time, just once, when he took me to his dad's ancestral home south outside the city. While we were taking turns dragging my last cigarette, he told me he'd never been as happy as he was at that time. I stared at him staring at the blank twilight of dusk and just as I turned my head to face the coming evening, he smiled at me and even in periphery, I somehow knew why he was happy.

***

September 23, 7:09pm

"9PM?" In an almost whisper as he walked out the door on his way to the exhibit.

I nodded. Not one of us ever discussed as to what might happen tonight.

"It's no big deal." Irrationally comforting myself.

Sonny, my ex(-fiance), was in the same arts scene as he was. Not that he ever explicitly showed up any pent-up emotions whatsoever towards Sonny, it's just that not a lot of people knew our story, Sonny and I. My engagement with Sonny ended way after I met him but the length of Sonny and I's relationship was reason enough why not a lot of  guys from their circle could ever understand how we ended up... together.

We never talked about it though, him  and I. I just hope it would continue ever after tonight.

***

September 24,5:53am

"What are you doing here?"

That was it, five very condescending words that jump started our so-called relationship. We never really talked. His arrogance, even in his silence, was too much for my equally bulged-up ego, so, we just sat there, the sound of paper burning as we each raced our way down our respective cigarettes.

"I'm sorry."

I was always into counting apologies. This was the very first time he asked for mine. Normally I'd, inadvertently, nod as an acknowledgement. I was so used of being apologized to that I'd automatically accept it with the highest degree of ambivalence. But tonight, technically, this morning, I couldn't nod at his.

He had just caused a minor scene back the exhibit when he heard a rather insulting statement from Sonny as we exited the studio on our way home. "I'll give them 6 months. Nobody can ever love that woman the way I did." And then everything else happened so fast that the next thing I remembered was staring at his face, Jon's. Sonny, who was by then bleeding the rest of his broken nose out, was behind me screaming atrocities that I swear I could not filter into memory. But I was right there staring at Jon staring at me, my mind blank for whatever kind of expression. "He has no idea how wrong he is."  were the only words I could remember Jon say as I walked passed him for home.

"What are you doing here, Jon?" I asked again.

"You know why I'm here." He starts, putting off his smoke, the tone of his voice unchanging.

I knew. Of course I did. And then as he, ever-so-slowly, scooted his was closer to me until our arms brushed, he continues.

"I'm not a nobody."

"A what?"

"Your ex, he said nobody can ever love you-"

"He has no idea how wrong he is." I smiled, breaking him off.

And then he smiles at me, that same smile that only happens when we were about to do it, sometimes after and that one time in the province. 

notes from the undergound featuring YTV Cebu..

Have you read my previous "notes from the underground" entry?

A lifelong passion sometimes starts as a random kerfuffle, sometimes an accident, sometimes rooting from a very hard blow, a bitch slap square in the face telling you to stand  up against utter mediocrity and boredom. You see, perhaps the only good thing about boredom is the eventual urge to break it. Take it from me, this very blog is the offspring of boredom and (literally) a 6.8 magnitude tremor. 

How do you define a hobby? How does it become a passion? And most importantly, how can one man's hobby help promote the hobbies of others?

I have been a fan of YTV since its conception some 3 or more years ago. As a witness to its evolution, I have thus decided to dedicate this edition of "notes from the underground" to YTV Cebu. If you're a fan of the underground (or to the diverse musical genres of Cebu City local bands, arts and craft) you might have heard of these guys too.

Note: All correspondence were done via Facebook (para ma career nilag tubag kai kung sa personal pato, wa juy padulngan, ang maglihok kai baso rjud tingali).

GeezCurls: How did you guys start out?

YTV Cebu: YTVCebu started as something as binuang2 ra na mga music videos covers ug skits around 2 years ago. Pero due to busy scheds, wa na kaau nagabot2. tungod na busy jud ang duha ka members, I (Yano) thought for a better purpose of YTVCebu kay sayang amu nasugdan.

GeezCurls: Why YTV? What do the initials stand for (assuming that it stands for something)?

YTV Cebu: "walay" TV, kai d man mi tigtanaw TV. Instead of TV mi magkalas sa oras, sa computer nlng mi.

GeezCurls: How many are you guys in the team?

YTV Cebu: Currently we have 5 members. Me (Yano), Dre, Hazel, Ian, Dunhill.

GeezCurls: Who are your target markets for video promotions?

YTV Cebu: Mu.cater mi tanan klasing genre.Pero target jud ang underground scene, kay ganahan mi mu promote nila dli lang dri sa Cebu, pero sa lain2 lugar through internet. makasabot mi na struggle jud samut na if mutukar lang dri, dapat pirmi present taga tukar para ma promote lang. Sayang kaau ang talent nila na dako kaaug potential, pero dli kaau makita sakadaghanan kay way outlet makita ila talent.

GeezCurls: Aside from local band gigs, do you also do coverage for any other events? If so, what else are these?

YTV Cebu: Nisuway man sad mi ug cover mga weddings ug birthdays, pero lisud jud cya sa pagkakaron tungod sa kakakuwang sa gamit ug mga tao. We were given a chance to cover events from our very own entreprenuers. Promote mi sa ila mga products and merchandise.

GeezCurls: You also direct, produce and cover official local band music videos, can you name all of the bands you've collaborated with?

YTV Cebu: Neverending Weekend, The Lower Class, Drive Me To Juliet, OneManDown, and March The Sky.

GeezCurls: How was it working with these bands on their videos? Can you give us one memorable event that happened behind the scenes with each bands?

YTV Cebu: In general, Working with these bands was fun. Usahay exhausting cya sa set, pero tungud lingaw, ma wa ra jud ghapon ang kakapoy. Taga video, klase2 ang challenges, pero klase2 sad jud ang lingaw. like sa neverending weekend na silver lining, after sa shoot, naka sched mi almost everyday for a week, para makshoot lain2 sad na banda sa lain2 lugar dri sa Cebu. Sa the lower class na pagka.manage sa band member sa set, due to space constraint. sa drive me to juliet, na testingan amu tuhod paglakaw sa maria luisa para lang maabot sa set, pero along the way lingaw jud cya. sa onemandown, first tu namu na experience na mu manage ug crowd to work with the band. sa march the sky, wa mi nagexpect na potential actor and actress man jud ni c Ram2 (guitarista) ug Marla (iya girlfriend).

GeezCurls: As a direct witness to the growth of the local Cebuano scenes (bands, arts, hobbies, etc) where would you probably see the diverse talents of Cebu in the years to come? 

YTV Cebu: Right now, we can really see the rapid growth of Cebu in the field of music making and video, our own products and clothing line advertised nationally, We can really say na layu ang maabtan sa Cebu, basta tinabangay lang.

GeezCurls: Any messages to hobbyists out there who are, in their little ways, also doing their part in promoting the talents of Cebu?

YTV Cebu: Just keep supporting your favorite local bands, promote your favorite line of shirts or merchandise. Bisag sa pagad2 lang sa mga events, dako na kaau nag tabang for the local scene, not just for the bands, but also the people involved in these events. Dri sad nimu makita ang enthusiasism sa banda bisag way TF. 

GeezCurls: Promote Youtube and FB or any online accounts na dri nga part.

YTV Cebu: Check our facebook page at www.facebook.com/YTVCebu for updates and current events on the local scene. Also check our youtube channel www.youtube.com/YTVCebu for live coverages of bands playing on events, promotional videos, and official music videos. For donations you can PM us on our facebook page...hehe

So, I guess you guys know what to do now...

Long live Cebuano local talents!!!

Tunnel

For all we know, that so-called light at the end of the tunnel is a steam-engine-powered-train. So unless you have a death wish, I suggest you bring your own light, a torch or a match. The tunnel of life might seem unending  but once you have that light within you, you glow, you shine, blinding like the sun. By then perhaps your life won't be a pitch black void of boredom and mediocrity anymore. Trust me. We've all been there, I think it's just up to us when to turn on the switch.

Shine on you crazy diamond!

I love you, 2012!

I don't really understand why everyone's so giddy to leave 2012 behind. So giddy in a sense that most have perhaps the most negative bidding of the supposedly "end-of-days" year. Fvck-ups are inevitable really. If anything, people should be thankful of 2012. Yeah we had a lot of down times, but that never stopped us from growing stronger.

My sentiments for 2012 cannot be contained in one entry but it generally boils down to tons of thanksgiving, a few irrational rants, more thanksgiving, and a whole lot of love. 2012 was an awesome year for me, my family, Goody, my friends (generally), even to my plant (who by the way shed down its last leaf yesterday, rest in peace my love).

2012 was a year of massive repelling to negative vibes and constant attraction for the better things in life.

I'm stronger now. Still (forever) inlove, healthier (though not in any way living a healthy lifestyle), faithful, mature.

I love you, 2012! 

Should the world end on 2013, by zombie apocalypse or Nibiru, it sure was a blast living in it! 

To Naboo, my padawans!!!

Movie of my Year (2012)

This tradition started out as a countdown to Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen back in 2009. My brother and I would be listing down the films that we would strictly watch in the theaters. It was feasible at first but until IMAX (Tron) came into the market, we eventually resorted to the, well... you know. We be good laddies drinking o'er leaping barnacles!

This year's list was a countdown to The Hobbit for the very obvious reason that, it's the Hobbit!!! 

The following are my top 5 favorites of this year's list. This is generally based on the film's entirety.  Not really familiar with the different aspects of making a film a blockbuster (aside from its sales) but story-wise, general cinematic visual effects, direction, and goosepimple moments, these are the top 5 that made it to the list: (all of which were seen on the theater house)

5. Prometheus. A total mind-fvck  (especially) if you've seen the Alien franchise. But I think that's just me, trying my hardest to connect the 33-year-gap-dots between the Weaver franchise to that of Rapace's.  I honestly did not understand the film on my first viewing because I was literally preoccupied with looking for familiar scenes and references from the Ellen Ripley series. The film was generally awesmazing! Talk about Ancient Aliens and all, this film has  literally made that Giorgio Tsoukalos nerd shat in his shorts!

4. Have you read my tribute article for Brave?

3. Here's a review of my tribute for Chris Nolan's The Dark Knight (Rises) franchise. 

2. The Hobbit. Of course. Yeah yeah it didn't make it to the top(not that it matters, Peter Jackson is probably swimming in 100 dollar bills as I type) but it is, in fact, worth being the movie countdown basis of the year. Yes, I've read the book, seen the crappy cartoon 1960s movie and a die-hard fan of the Tolkien-Jackson book-film adaptation but, I don't know, is it me or was the whole movie's pacing a tad bit dragging? Nevertheless, I would definitely watch the whole film again, anytime, and perhaps by then, I'd be awake, for the whole 3 hours.

1. The lucky number 9 on the list. An unexpected watch. Was originally planning to see the film on DVD Rip but thanks to SM Cinemas, BEST 2012 MOVIE EVER!!! Rurouni Kenshin. I have been a fan of the series since I even knew cable TV existed. I even deemed Aoshi Shinomori my first EVER crush  since I knew Mark Wahlberg (w-e-i-r-d!!!) So imagine my awe and giddyness when I saw Kenshin in live action 1080p in the theater! The techniques, fight scenes, ghaaaaaaaad!!! I can't... I mean... I couldn't... Ghaaaad!!! Though a few scenes from the animated series were cut-off from the film, the movie was generally good enough for hardcore Samurai X fans like myself.

Notable Others. Top 5 notable films that were worth my time and moolah.
5. Battleship
4. The Avengers
3. The Amazing (chemistry between Emma Stone and Andrew Garfield) Spiderman
2. We bought a Zoo.
1.The odd life of Timothy Green (a definite Torrent-download favorite).

Definite personal flops. These are the films that were very good with the trailers... yeah, just the trailers.
2. Mirror Mirror
1. Wrath of the Titans. Especially since I was planning to make this a number 2 for this year's movie countdown.
Would've probably placed John Carter a definite  placer on this category but, though it did have an almost-close-to-lousy trailer, it did not disappoint as a film in general. But I don't think I'd still be a fan of the adaptation.

So, that's it. Check out Teaser-Trailer (not mine) for the latest movie trailers in town.

Merry Christmas 2012!!!

Ending the year with the most awkward bang in all of Ancient Mayan history. Perhaps the biggest scam in hysteria-history, Dec 21, 2012. The day when the Mayan calendar is supposedly set to end and when this mysterious planet, Nibiru, would allegedly disrupt our very own gravitational pull from the Sun, ultimately causing a rampage of natural disasters thus eventually leading to the complete wipe-off of every sentient living thing on Earth. Party like it's the end of the world alright!

We have finally broke tradition this year. Christmas Eve was supposedly a whole day marathon of Casablanca, Fiddler on the Roof and Sound of Music. This year, is especially brought to us by Roger Waters' The Wall 1990 Concert. And you thought we couldn't get any weirder? I'm typing this whole article with flickering series lights and the monitor as my source of lumination. I'm actually excited for the vertigo trip after all of this. This isn't actually the culmination of this year's articles, I'm doing that next week (if I still have the time).

Here, I will try my very best to at least impart my most Coelho-esque Christmas message. Let me do this by recalling my most stoned Christmas ever (so much for this whole thing to be Coelho-esque, eh?) . Yes my friends, stoned, high, dissociated, far-fvcking-out!

I was about 6 or 7 years old that Christmas eve, sick with the flu and mild asthma. My cousins from the far seas (okay so it's not really that far) were staying over for the holidays. The whole house was in a blissful ruckus (ironic I know, but that's just how we are as a bunch) whereas I was in bed, practically a veggie, martial-lawed by my Mom until the midnight noche buena. Really? Order a 7 year old to stay in bed the whole day? Who did she (Mom) think I was, Keith Moon or someone? The next few scenes are rather explicit but in summary, I took an extra dose (okay, DOSES) of flu/cough syrup just hours before midnight. Worst-trip-ever!!! Slept like a cooking oil on a freezer just minutes before midnight.

Moral of the story? It's not really a good idea to get high on Christmas. Really. Christmas isn't a good time to get high, it's a high time to be good. But really, spend it however you must, with whoever and whatever, but always remember, Christmas does not necessarily happen just once a year. Everyday can be Christmas, you just have to have the heart to make it happen.

However you want to spend Christmas, with prayer, or booze, or pizza, or unlimited supply of your grandmother's pasta, it's not what comes in our systems that matters, it's what stays there, forever engraved in our hearts, fueling our passion for life, faith and selfless love.

Merry Christmas, Nerds!!!

I love you.

No, really, I do!

Have a good one...Heck, have the best one this year, and if it does end up as the best one for you, well... there's always next year.

I'm weird like that...

I haven't really had the time to spill my brains out these days. Since I sold my laptop (generously) to an equally frugal buyer, the only mode I have for online surfing is my tab. I'm not really very adept at this touch-screen-typing-thing, probably takes me 10 mins to type a five sentence paragraph, excluding those insignificant minutes trying to correct every typo.

Yup, that's me. Wasting every insignificant time I have trying to explain insignificant events like the above paragraph or (at this very second) how cute my strawberry-painted-nails are. Yuuuuuuuup... I'm weird like that. In fact, I'm such a proud weirdo that if Peter Gabriel were to hand down his infamous red dress and fox mask to any random fan, he'd probably (randomly on purpose) choose me!

So, in celebration of this recent(?) epiphany, I will now be listing down perhaps the top 5 most weird characteristics I have... well, at least these are the ones that I'm aware of.

• That particular bog-of-a-stench that basically irritates everyone whenever they'd visit any local wet market *mercado*, well, that same smell makes me hungry! I mean, minus the colorful spits, litters and flies in the background, I swear I'd eat my every meal in that place. I swear!
• I have a lycanthrope-esque femme cycle. It's irregular but whenever it happens, it either coincides with the waxing gibbous moon or the full moon. 
• I have trypophobia. Go figure. It's severe. Even comes with the panic attacks and all.
• I can hear and smell a cockroach from a particular distance (some 3-5 meters away). Some defense mechanism superpower huh?
• I live and breath Star Wars. I'm not sure if this qualifies me as weird but... yuuuuup.

Conformity is mediocrity.
Normalcy is scary.
I'm a proud wierdo.
So...

Dragon Poppy Splinters

He was pacing down the alley. The sound of cans slightly rolling on the pavement was his hymn. This was not part of the plan, the sinister in him whispered, putting on the jacket she'd just worn not 2 minutes ago. He shouldn't have initiated the contact. He knew this was going to happen. He knew. The slightest moves of minuscule raw emotions were thoroughly calculated during nights when his lucidity was but a fragment of an untamed mind under the influence of his favorite downer. 

Downer? Yeah right! In fact, he hasn't been, how do they call it?, stoned since his first try some 7 years ago. That familiar feel of the dragon poppy splinters boiling every part of his body. No. But those eyes. They make every known opiate seem like a regular ant bite. Her eyes. 

I can't do this! This was never part of the plan! Then he faltered. 

What originally started as an introverted bet, a passing for boredom, *FvCK!*, a curious case of insanity snowballed into... "I'm fvcked!". He cursed, his 87th since he walked her to the shared apartment she had with the youngest Weaslette, some four minutes ago. 

He thought of doing some more calculation to eradicate this growing how do I call this? Infatuation, he thought, while pausing his pace to welcome the warmth of the first morning light. "You know what I like about sunsets?", he remembered her say not 12 hours ago. "...they always seem to tell me that there's always a sunrise somewhere else". Oh well. He shrugged and continued walking. The platinum strands on his head swaying softly with the zephyr winds. 

His hand fisted inside his jacket. His jacket that somehow still smelled like her. "Infatuation" he scoffed and in that insignificant second... I don't mind her leaving her scent on any of my articles of clothing. In fact, I don't mind at all...

Original post is on my tumblr page. Above post has been edited.

Diary of Princess Twin-bun.

Entry # 48:

That insufferable sagged-face emperor was in the news again today. Their so-called clone army has reached even the farthest planets in the galactic republic. The whole news seemed very alarming to my my dad and his advisers. I had to see my father leave home. I really have no idea where he flies off to during crises like these, but, being a senator and all, I think he is needed somewhere else. I miss him though. I can't imagine leaving my home any time soon. Alderaan has always been home. I think I'll stay here forever. 

Entry # 56:

It's been about three weeks since I last saw my father.  I've been sleeping in my parent's chambers since father's departure. I can tell my mom misses him terribly. I told her we could visit Coruscant but she said the capital isn't safe anymore. They say there's a war coming but I think I'm too young to understand that. I'll be turning twelve in two days and I have finally convinced mother to cancel the feast that she's been planning on that day. I guess the best gift from my parents this year is to have the three of us together, perhaps on a vacation... and probably to have R2 repaired... again... :)

Entry # 271:

Dad's good friend Captain Brando Calrissian died today. I was not allowed to travel with mother and father to Cloud City for the funeral. The good captain is survived by his only son, (and now orphan) Lando. Though I haven't met Lando, who probably has the same age as mine, my sincerest condolences are with him. Somehow I know what it feels like being an orphan. That very fact was never hidden from me since my childhood. But I am so blessed to have been raised as an Organa. Mother and father has loved me much like their very own. I miss them now. I hope they'll be safe. And for the Cpt. Calrissian, I hope the force would lead his spirit to safety and eternal bliss.

I remember Captain Calrissian, during his visits when I was younger, narrate a seemingly familiar story of a Queen falling in-love with a peasant. I couldn't recall the whole story but I remember it being a tragedy. The Jedi temple in Coruscant that I always hear about was said to have been sacked by the peasant-turned-Jedi. The beautiful queen died of a broken heart. And the peasant-turned-Jedi-turned-Sith? It is said that he still alive until today, hiding in a cape and mask made of guilt, taking orders blindly by megalomania and greed. Poor guy.

With love, from Ancient Sumer and The Greys

Okay, so I'm not really a big fan of this "we are not alone in this universe" mania but the innumerable accounts (bogus or fact) of sightings, abductions and ancient proofs might have probably proven such existence. So, are we alone in this immeasurable space of dark matter and flaming clouds? I don't know for sure although I think Giorgio Tsoukalos can debate me (with a 90% chance of winning) otherwise.

My nephew has finally arrived at that very stage of human development where one of the primal questions in life is "Where do I come from?". My nephew is 3 years old (and named after the god of lightning, Zeus). Though I might have tried my very best to repress my cousin's (Zeus' mother) answer, which was in one way or another very close to the scientific explanation of conception with a twang of fairytale, but really, asking our parents where we come from is just the beginning of perhaps volumes and volumes of encyclopedic questions about WHERE we really originated.

Forgive me if I'm straying out of the scientific context of human conception in this entry. It's just that... Tsoukalos' hair is just awe-inspiring.

In Erich Von Daniken's Chariot of the gods and basically the whole 4 seasons of History channel's Ancient Aliens, the popular, if not, most unorthodoxically accepted, answer to the very question of where everything in this rock of an Earth came from is in fact from our "space brothers". Gods, they were thought to have been called by ancient Sumerians, The Greys with a very distinctive triangular-close-to-circular shape of head and 2 huge almond-like eyes. Yes, my friends, these very aliens are believed (more like conspired) to have been the very source of human existence. Makes sense really. Although the whole thing might, in a way, rule out numerous Biblical information but, what if? What if those so-called angels with  glaring wings from the old testament were symbolically construed space suits or the "rain of fire" terminating the Deuterocanonical cities of Sodom and Gamorrah was in fact a nuclear airstrike from supreme space beings? Don't get me wrong, I am a believer of the Spiritual Faith, but what with all these (literally) out-of-this-world explanations rooting from the over-analyzation of ancient texts, biblical sources, hieroglyphs and what-nots, it can certainly shake opinions and emerge questions about human existence.

Ancient aliens genetically bio-engineering their very own DNAs (or whatever they have) to samples and samples of specimens in their glowing petri dishes to create the perfect being. And might I add, beings in their own image and likeness. Boom! Now I sound like Tsoukalos! If you have been watching Ancient Aliens, you might have probably heard the previous lines in 2 out of the total number of episodes in each seasons. That the very creator of our planet are close-to-extinct spacelings in the hopes of perpetuating their lives (or new ones) in a world capable of sustaining life. And so, fast forward to a million years, their very creations built them temples of sacrifices and send them messages through land markings to appease them, honor them and worship them. The sky gods of the ancient worlds. The masters of Giza, Teotihuacan, Nazca, Niniveh, Sumeria. All once believed as ridiculous and irrational are now known (and in some ways, accepted) theories of Earth's origin.

But I say those so-called ancient aliens are just us. Yup, travelling back in time to make history more interesting. Space gray humanoids with huge heads and 2 huge eyes, sounds very much like a human space suit to me *shrug*. meh

So where do we come from? Spermatozoa, evolved chimpanzee, some guy's rib, clay baked over a mythological titan's oven, flock of storks, an alien species from Mars, or a selfless and pure being we all call by different names, should it  even matter? If we'd eventually know the very truth, satisfying as it might sound, what happens after then?

Exactly.

We are sentient beings, capable of cognition. Our capabilities are endless, thus, we evolve. Our mortality is a gift and so we thrive to live out the very fabric of our existence in search for truth and further truth.

Where do we come from? I think it's all better to leave the question hanging.

Besides, it's more fun that way.

Howls of Winter

Storm winds slither into the windowsills. Mordecai, my brother's golden retriever, has been howling at the zephyrs since dusk, this old town just got a notch higher to creepy, I internally debate, lighting perhaps the only lantern in the cabin's hallway.

"Suddenly feels like one of those screamer scenes from a slasher movie, eh?" Gab, our cousin from Michigan, announced at the dinner table, lighting perhaps his 20th reefer roll since we arrived this morning.

This whole summer camp cabin in the woods weekend was my dad's idea, he said kids today will never appreciate the countryside since the advent of the web and gadgets. We were in Nazca that time. Nazca, the cradle of ancient alien encounter myths and all my brother had to say was "So much for mythology. The only myth here is a WIFI connection and a clear 3G reception." Sure I gave out a slight chuckle but I wasn't entirely sharing his sentiment. I loved the place, no matter how that Tsoukalos guy (despite his ridiculously f*cked up hair-do) and his literally "out-of-this-world" ancient alien doctrines try to debate its eccentricities. 

A loud thud on the roof broke my thoughts. Everyone practically jumped from their seats, except for Jo who was sleeping on Faye's snuggie on the floor. My ears rang from Val's wailing shriek.

"I think we should check what that was." Really? Super storm raging outside and all I could suggest was...

"There's a torch light behind the cupboard, we'll check it out together." Sid, the oldest in the group, ordered.

"Great! Just great. I picked the perfect day to quit drinking..." In an almost-whisper, my brother swore from behind.

TBC...

Writing under the influence: Monologue of the sober and the not so...

Just because...

Everything’s so loud right now. Holy fvcking sh1t! Did the Radioman just say “bloodbath?” I didn’t know they’re allowed to say that on the airwaves?

Why is the clock ticking so loud?

So when else can I hear the drum and bugle corps play at 4:31am?

Jimi Hendrix? Is that you whispering in my right ear? “This is our decision, to live fast and die young”?

The cocks have crow three times now. I hear a dialtone, a radio! So that’s where it’s from!

Should I even dare counting the kukadoodledoos?

When I turn off the lights should I be scared or should I be proud, 4:35 am!

Filtering.

I can’t even hear my father snore? There it is, my favorite rock-a-bye. I can almost picture my morning.

To the old gods and the new, please let me dream of Jim Morrison?

G’nyt!

Attack of the Feral kids!

Commonly called as the "Wild Child", the feral child is basically a human kid who, at a very young age (the primal point of basic human development), has no or little experience of basic human affect. Though the word "affect" suggests a very broad subject, specifications include language, rearing, care, behavior, love, interaction. 

When I had initially thought of writing an entry regarding this subject (while watching Tarzan on Disney), I had almost believed that this phenomenon is but a work of fiction, a myth. Tarzan, for example, tops the list being born human and raised by fictionally-over-the-bar-intelligent Mangani apes. Okay, so I haven't really read the books and so far I've only seen one adaptation (Tarzan X, of course, does not count) but I guess it doesn't take a genius to point out the very fact that a human raised by innately wild creatures is virtually impossible. Aside from technically going against Freud's psycho-sexual stages of human development, the whole issue basically rules out various human development theories! I mean, imagine being raised by a pride of lions, would they rather treat you as their own or treat you like bacon pancakes for breakfast? Surprisingly, a few would, in fact, deem the existence of feral children true. 

This entry does not debate the existence (or otherwise) of feral kids. This site lists down the top 10 modern cases of the issue. Read at your own risk though. However, as a result of my unprecedented curiosity over the matter, I have listed my own bunch of feral kids, most of which are picked out from famous literature and films. Although some does not strictly embody the very definition of a feral child, these kids are generally not raised (or suckled) in parentage by their own species, genus, world, realm, etc...

Tarzan would, of course, top the list. Literally the Apeman of the Mangani's, this tree swinging hottie has been the main man of the feral kids. Because being raised by British scientist parents was too mainstream, he decided to breast feed from an ape. But in all seriousness, Tarzan has been the very epitome of feral, a human boy walking in all fours, unable to commune in basic human language. Although a lifetime mate is pretty much difficult to search for in the jungle, this kid might've probably been better off in the wild, where it's devoid from the complications of human emotions and survival only relies on how loud you growl and how fast you kill.

Mowgli, a predecessor of Tarzan, his was a story set in the jungles of India. Whereas Tarzan was raised by great apes, this kid Mowgli has been raised by a pack of wolves! Holy Mother of Gandalf!!! My mother's like a wolf when she's cross and it's not a sight worth creating a cartoon for! Though the film has been made to look like a fable, the very fact that this kid made it through his quarter-life eating mangoes and bananas, singing and dancing with bears and panthers and practically battling the various shenanigans of other creatures who target him as prey is quite impressive.

Romulus and Remus the mythologically-believed founders of Rome. Though these kids weren't reared by animals, they were initially suckling to one. Turns out Kipling (author of the Jungle Book) was a big mythology fan because of the very fact that the above twins were also nursed by a wolf. Now these two kids had me thinking, if suckling on animal milk suggests feral-ity, would that make all of us feral kids, drinking cow's/goat's milk and all? 

Max, Where the Wild Things Are is the feral child of parental estrangement and boundless imagination. This kid had a world deemed perfect exclusively for play. Where the Wild Things Are showcased practically what is inside every kid's head amidst family issues and unrequited attention. Creatures of mere imagination as bestfriends in a world where parental control is the least of everyone's problems. Though Max here is essentially not raised by animal or another genus, he is deemed a feral kid due to the very fact that he was fictionally not raised by humans at all. Sounds very eccentric really but a few sources also suggest that feral kids can also mean kids who refuse (human/inter-genera) parentage and as a result, runs away.

Peter Pan is also an example of a feral "runaway" child, having ran (technically, roll) away from his mother to be raised by a three-inch fairy who would eventually fall head-over-heels inlove with him. Peter Pan is a child of the Elixir, a kid who refuses to grow up/old and rather than being raised in a family, prefers to be raised as a radical/outlaw to an utterly gator-fearing-immature geezer, Captain Hook.

Aurora, Sleeping Beauty can also be counted as a feral kid having been raised by three middle-aged fairies.

San from Studio Ghibli's  Princess Mononoke is also deemed a feral child having been raised by a supernaturally powerful wolf goddess, Moro. As previously mentioned on my previous article, I have long been a fan of Studio Ghibli and this film is not excluded in the studio's long line of award-winning animations.

Hellboy the horn-castrated (literally) son of the devil is a very obvious feral kid but unlike most where a human kid is raised in parentage by another creature, Hellboy's situation goes the other way around having been raised by a scientist well-versed on the supernatural arts. This guy actually took his "feral-ity" to a whole new level by literally saving mankind from the fires of doom and hell. Ironic.

Penguin from the Batman franchise. I don't know whether he's a mutant, a feral kid or just high on krill but this guy has perhaps the highest fashion sense in the feral kid circle. What, with the tux and leather shoes, Penguin is one lucky (more like stinky!) feral kid!

... and lastly...

Clark Kent (Superman) the ultimate feral child in feral children history. This guy is literally an alien royalty thrown from his planet at a very young age, raised as a boy who can lift farm tractors and pulverize bullies, literally, with one stare. Superman is one feral kid you wouldn't want to mess with. Yup, because being raised by apes, wolves, fairies and bogus friends is too mainstream!

So, you be the judge, feral kids, are they a fact, fiction or should we, literally, just let them be themselves? 

I just have to share this...

While initially drafting my list of feral kids, I asked my boyfriend who else could be included as feral kids in popular fiction. He actually contributed Hellboy and then Pinocchio (which doesn't count obviously because HE'S NOT A REAL BOY!!!) and then, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, which actually made sense.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles though generally considered as mutants are also, in fact, feral kids. I mean, mutants or not, how FERAL can four Turtles raised by a Japanese Rat get???

Fire from the East (2)

click here for Fire from the East (1)

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"What message from your Queen?" I remember him ask. His back firm from my vantage.

"I am not here to send a message." My courage oozing like fire from a blacksmith's cottage. His minions scoff from behind as if marveling at his divine splendor over my weakened posture. I was just a dagger toss away from pinning revenge on Al Rodog's chest. Death will surely welcome me once I did but death I will welcome just so I could avenge Lerion's demise.

Pride, my dear Myne. I could hear my father whispering in my ear. Pride will lose you battles. Lerion's lust for victory and pride has always been his downfall. I couldn't let the same be mine.

"Then perhaps you can send your majesty a message for me." The Al added, now facing for familiarity, pacing ever careful steps towards me. For a moment there I was an ounce close to accepting decapitation. Only a true phoenix is ever capable of taming the flame. And like the zephyr itself, Al Rogod unsheathed his sword with a light swift of hand. I blink and for that very second, I could feel death, reaching for my neck, calling me as if it was home.

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I haven't heard from my people in months. Could they have retreated back East, I don't know. General Bulsagad has always been adamant to retreat. But news of apparent disappearance of my camps have left me a pint close to hopeless. I have always trusted my people, I could not give up on them now.

The sun has left its last light from dusk when I heard a knock on the door. 

"My lady, dinner has been sent from the Al". A familiar voice informed, as if in a whisper, from behind.

"Thank you, Marieta." My usual reply.

The tray was already laid on the only wooden table in the cell when Marieta added, "The Al wanted you to know that the message has been sent to your people. Though no response have been confirmed, he still does not think your Queen has retreated." Sigh.

"Thank you, Marieta."

"I have no say in this war, my lady, but if you..."

"I doesn't matter. The war has been on since my birth. My Queen will never retreat, tell him that. And that if he as much as think that my Queen will, then his demise will be met in another way. Leave me, Marieta. Please."

She gave me a slight genuflect for eventual departure. 

The zephyrs roared like war horns from the south. Like the war that has been on since my birth, the winds bore piercing bellows from my window. The moment my generals receive the Al's message, I know they'll imbue selfless commitment to victory. A mere wad of my hair does not define power from the enemy. For if it was much as a finger from my metacarpals or an ear to signal the absence of peace negotiations, I know my people will not give up and back down. 

We will win this war and if my army cannot do it in extramural, I will, by the blood of my forefathers, do it from inside.

Only a true phoenix is ever capable of taming the flame. 

If you had the chance to change your fate, would you?

*I was mentally speaking in a Scottish accent while drafting this entry. #whatanerd!

If you had the chance to change your fate, would you?

Honestly don’t know how to answer that, really. I mean, I don’t think I’m at that stage of my almost-quarter-life to be sulking in crisis over countless “what-could’ve-beens”.  No really, I can’t think of any. Not that I’m being an arrogant git, but, everything in my life has been set in an okay motion, no matter how much of a pain in the neck most of them were.  

Jasmine was perhaps the very first Disney princess that I've grown to idolize. She was fierce and smart and cunning (and yes, by all three, I mean, kissing the main villain square in the mouth for distraction). Next came Mulan. The perfect tomboy, who, not only pulled-off the perfect Queen Amidala-Padme decoy/deception, but is also apparently the only female Disney protagonist who was technically not (or did not become) a princess. And then, Merida of clan DunBroch came into the picture.

Technically the Mulan of medieval Scotland, Merida not only made me sob (which I forcefully tried to do in my most discreet manner because this kid beside me keeps staring at me like I'm this eccentric 24-year old who still cries at Disney movies) like a 9-year old avid-Disney-channel-fan all throughout the film, she also, in a sense, inspired me to literally, LET ME HERR DOUWWN.

The tale of The Bear and The Archer was something all of us can learn from, implying that, fate is not something that can be changed by a dessert-baked-spell, overnight. Heck, I don’t think fate can be changed by anything that’s brewed or baked at all (unless your desired fate is in a correctional-rehabilitation facility)! Fate is what keeps all of us going, because no matter how many detours the mythical wisps lead us in life, we’ll ALWAYS get the fate that we all deserve.  

Change your fate, live by the moment or carefully plan the number of steps you have to tread along life’s yellow brick road, it doesn’t matter, we build our own fates, we break them, we change them. The main thing is, we learn from them as we tread along.

The Dark Knight: A rundown of our favorite villains...

I am a major fan girl. Ask my brother. Whenever I'm hooked to new films or books, I literally talk about it for weeks until I eventually drain out everyone else's mutual interest towards such (but I really don't care). I have been a mega fan girl of Batman since, I really cannot remember! I grew up watching the animated series on local TV, I can even remember a re-run telecast of the live action 1960's series and loved it, no matter how much of a douche bag Batman and Robin were in their sexual-appetite-decreasing costumes. I love Batman, next to Han Solo, he was the next fictional character that I have dubbed as sexy, at the age of 6! 

And though there have been countless Batman franchises in DC history, this entry is solely dedicated to Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight installments. Not that I'm playing favorites (which I personally think I am), but, I have been a fan of Nolan's works since The Prestige (so, maybe I am playing favorites) and I have NEVER ever known any writer/director close to his genius (Scorsese, maybe?). Another reason for this tribute would probably be because, as a mega fan of Batman, it was only Nolan who made my childhood superhero's persona a notch closer to reality, non-comical in a sense.

So, the last installment of Nolan's trilogy soared straight to the top of the box office charts just this weekend. Living up to its title, The Dark Knight Rises, Nolan's culmination of Gotham City’s caped crusader, indeed, never failed to impress, rising to the top of this year's must-watch summer films. (WARNING: This entry might probably contain spoilers but I guess you've also probably seen the movie anyway.) 

Cutting down the stalling short, this entry (in dedication to the Dark Knight trilogy) is actually a rundown of (Nolan) Batman's top villains, in increasing gravity, of course. I've actually decided to mull on this topic (after an almost 6-hour marathon on Batman Begins, Gotham Knight [animated] and Dark Knight) in realization on who truly is Batman's greatest nemesis. 

Falcone(BB) + Maroni (TDK) - Yes, these two equally dim-witted mob thugs made it into my list and though their wits (or lack thereof) might have probably promoted them a position in the villain circle, these guys were, in fact, just pawns in the board. They were the trumpets signaling the entry of a far greater evil.

Dr. Crane (Scarecrow) - Yet another pawn in the Ra's Al Ghul chess board, but he was no match for a stun gun to the face! Credits to him for appearing in all three installments though.

Harvey Dent (TwoFace Harvey) - The one thing I liked about him was the mere fact that he actually lived up to his philosophy on heroism, "You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain." And even though I cannot blame the man for his drive for vengeance, I also cannot call him a hero. Dent was smart and brave, yes, but I guess sometimes wits and courage and the mere persistence to eradicate corruption and animosity are not the only virtues that fuel a true hero. Selflessness was perhaps one thing he lacked, in fact the only persona of selflessness in the first 2 films died answering Dent’s marriage proposal.

Selina Kyle (Catwoman) - Was not a villain at all. But since everyone else practically labels her as one, then I guess it's safe to say that even Batman lives by the proverb, "love your enemy", literally.

Talia Al Ghul/Miranda - That scheming little..! I've read that she and Bruce Wayne actually have a son in the comic series but apart from that, having twistedly living up to an illogical thought of ethnic-evil cleansing is evil beyond any levels. Like a Padme to a Queen Amidala, Talia is indeed credited for her success deception and in infiltrating her arch nemesis' (pants and) sanity. She was something worth living up for until she screwed it all up.

Bane - Always the minion, never the mastermind. His evil was driven by love. In fact, if he had been geared up towards the lighter side of the cast, he'd probably be stronger (and he initially proved it through a one-on-one death match in the sewers) than Batman himself.

Ra's Al Ghul - Perhaps the main man in Nolan's Dark Knight series. His was a vision of a world free from corruption and evil, thus gearing towards a so-called "cleansing". And though he always loathed how Gotham turned out to be a dystopia, it was Batman who practically made him realize, that there is indeed a pinch of utopia amidst corruption and evil.

Joker - Okay, now this is the real deal. Heath Ledger's role as the evil jester has indeed become an enigmatic role in all of Batman history. The Joker was the ideal villain (though not my number one in Batman's list) in a sense that, he had no reason for his animosities. Quoting dear Alfred, "Some men just want to watch the world burn", the Joker was a literal personification of such. "I'm a dog chasing cars. I wouldn't know what to do with one if I caught it! You know, I just... *do* things." To further elaborate the dynamics of Joker's villainous mentality would be pointless but unlike all the other villains in the films, comics, or literary history, the Joker had no drive for doing evil, he did not steal, kill or raged havoc for revenge or jealousy or greed or lust. The Joker was pure evil. The perfect villain.

And now this is where you might probably throw the word "hypocrite" on my face like a rotten tomato, because my number 1 villain in Nolan's Batman franchise is...

Bruce Wayne/ Batman - Rachel Dawes said it herself, Bruce was wearing a mask since he became the famed vigilante, his mask being Bruce Wayne, thus, Batman is his true persona. So here we realize that Batman consumed all the sanity that Bruce Wayne had left. We learn from The Gotham Knight (animated) that Bruce Wayne's greatest villain was himself. His irrational drive to wipe out evil was a notch closer to the Joker's insanity. Bruce Wayne was a man of intrigue, a billionaire who lives with his butler and aside from organizing fund raisers and over-billed parties, he had an appetite for vigilance. And though his works have always been geared for the greater good of all and his selflessness was the only ingredient missing for Harvey Dent to become a hero, his delusions of utopia has gradually made a dystopia out of him. It cannot be denied that he will always be an inspiration to the oppressed and the victims of injustice, but whereas evil will always have an end, so is his vigilance. Gotham City is ALWAYS safe in the presence of the Batman (and Robin) but what happens when they're gone in eventuality? Does Gotham ALWAYS have to rely on this masked crusader in hopes to save their days? Or should this crusader inspire the rightful authorities to abolish corruption and promote justice?

Batman is not an outlaw, no. He is a man who is taking justice into his own (filthy rich!) hands, but whereas he is fighting the baddies with his gloved-knuckles, he also fails to recognize the real men who are set to protect Gotham City. Batman promotes two important morals in Gotham, one is safety, because his very legacy eradicates fear in the victims and promotes the same in the guilty. Two, inspiration, especially on the part of the authorized protectors of Gotham City. This is where Commissioner Gordon comes into the picture because the morals of this ordinary policeman is where the real hero of Gotham lies, no mask, no gliders, no tank-turned-to-motorcycle vehicles, no "Bat"s, just pure justice, a true hero with the law on his badge and justice for all in his heart.

Batman will always be my hero and I guess the most important lesson I’ve learned from him is that “we all have villains to fight off in our lifetime, but unless we defeat our inner villains, we can never outwit the lesser villains of everyday”. Life is a constant struggle they say, but it is also the same struggle that makes it all worth living.

We are our own salvation.

Everything I need to know, I learned from Alien (1979)

I have always been a fan of sci-fi movies. I mean, I practically breathe Star Wars everyday like some reefer bong at 4:20 in the afternoon. And though monster aliens are perhaps my least favorite genre in the sci-fi spectrum, I guess these types of flicks impart the most important morals in life. Yep! Monster alien movies because where else can you find the most important tips of survival other than movies showcasing a wide variety of squeals, bloodbath and (excruciatingly) adorable 120-toothed-double-mouthed-20-inched-forehead-monster from the outer rims of Zeta Reticuli?

Having seen Ridley Scott’s first installment of Alien (1979) again (after about 12 years, on HD 1080-fuuureakin-pixels!) was in a sense, intriguing. Imagine, a creature, the purest being, with no conscience and remorse, as a tool for human warfare/protection and security. Makes you think really, these guys COULD be useful, except for the fact that their blood is 100% acidic and lethal and yes, they host on the human esophagus to fertilize a 20-inch silver-toothed-worm by a slimy spider-like creature sticking on your face for 24 hours! Scott (next to Lucas, of course) definitely is a genius having made a film like that (some) 30 years ago.

Everything I need to know, I learned from Alien (1979):

When someone says “Let’s get out of here” and you’re on an eerily strange alien planet with no signs of (benevolent) life, DO IT! FAST! Stalling around and checking every piece of slimy little egg is probably the most stupid thing ever! Unless you’re planning to do a sequel…

Alien planet “Faberge eggs” open, exposing a freakishly slimy bald head… the last thing you should do is stick your head right in front of it! I mean, really?! Common sense! 

Freaky spider-creature (“Face Hugger”) sticking onto your friend’s face is not in any way cool! Especially when the same creature deliberately detaches itself some 24 hours after it practically smooched someone’s face to death! 

When a loud and ugly silver-toothed-20-inch worm (“Chestburster”) literally purges out of someone’s chest, KILL IT! In a fvcking instant! Never mind its teeth or size, the fvcking thing just tore someone else’s chest open, the least you could do is marvel at its malevolent birth!

Cats are cute but I really don’t think living on a 500 megaton metal ore refinery space ship (and being several light years away from Earth) is their thing. Why on Earth would a space crew ship want to bring a feline on one of their missions?

“Mother! You Bitch!” Though it originally is “Mother! Turn the cooling unit back on! Mother!...You Bitch!” but I guess you get my point. Sometimes, they can be… Bigtime!

How to stop chasing the dragon...

I don’t know where or how or… why I’m even bothering to think about this?

But… the heck!

23 years. Yes my life was a mess. I guess that’s practically why I am what I am today.  

Imperfect, crazy (beautiful), demented, alive.

Every second of this terminal, I’ve always lived it either to the fullest, for granted, drunk, (occasionally, stoned [DAD!total farce, I tell you. TOTAL FARCE!]), lost, found, in love, angry, inspired, hungry, full, happy, stoked, basically all the other indiscriminate what-nots of being human.

Yep. BEING HUMAN. Probably the lamest excuse of what? …BEING HUMAN!

Because they were just being human when they kept the fact that I could’ve had ……… whatever!

Main thing is, I’m here. Right here. Contented (currently hungry for Matias bbq), happy, and always keeping tabs with the “kid in me”.

How to stop “chasing the dragon”? Nope, I don’t mean opium.

What I do mean by it is simple.

The dragon is a mythical creature told my kings and lords to their finest men and soldiers. In theory, whoever slays such beast is rewarded with gold, women, a castle and practically all the riches in the world. In the long run, the kings and lords remained as such, so were their soldiers. Castles were built, but no dragon was slain. Dragons by definition are mythical reptilian fire-breathing-winged beasts.

Mythical.

Stop chasing dragons, I tell you.  

Now.

Start chasing that Rabbit! You’re almost late!! 

am I even making any sense here???

originally from queenbamidala.tumblr.com 

Random (a)

...after more than a month of unproductive hiatus, here goes.

Wooden Door.

Because when everyone dreams the same dream, reality becomes a catastrophe.

How can a mere little shadow on the wall mean so much so as to call it a ghost of an unforgotten unforgiven past?

The marks on the sand do not leave prints of prances and dances, the very echoes of those laughs and smiles remain.

When the clouds suggest rain and the shouts entail pain, the wooden door closes again.

Birth.

Does it not proclaim the very essence of life?

Whereas the other wither away, every birth is an invitation for us to stay.

Because when gallows of moonshine and pirate treasures are too much to bare.

The birth of life is always open to share.

Fountain pen.

Every unsung hero's only weapon.

To expose tyranny and promote selfless, unaccounted, unrequited liberty.

To wallow in the street paved with rats on Victorian gowns and peasant on muskets.

When what we know is a weapon and what we do not is a sick corrupted den, gun powder revolution cannot bring back lost men.

Morning breath.

The first signal of beating good old death.

The boatman who rides alone is not only in need of golden coin money.

He needs a woman by his side, to make the ride worth every penny.

Chiron's creaking little ferry, how is it that the boat still stands when you ship souls a thousand a plenty?

Tire swing.

Vertigo and the play of light.

Sometimes, when lucky, a view of the sun from the far side of the twilight.

Winters only wither your string, they make me lighter than the kids on the playground swing.

Tire swing, may you not tire of the joy you bring, to kids like me and the kids of spring.

The idiot on the background keeps poking my eyes.

He asks, "Where do you get all these stupid rhetorical guise?"

"Funny" 

Retort.

"The abominable late bunny keeps track of my mundane sanity."