The holiday break must be a depository of all sorts of possible stories and drama. Too bad I am stuck in this slow turning world up north. Will update soon:D Happy Holidays everyone!

Hard enough

Thursday | 3PM
With recession in my mind, a friend and I scoured Manila to look for a mall with the least people trying to spend their bonus. Unfortunately, people everywhere, which I hate. So while friend almost killed someone for that jeans on sale in Mango, I rested in peace in a bookstore. That is one of the worst moments I had in a bookstore, so I only bought one book. Plus I don't really have enough money:(

Thursday | 10 PM
Tired and with stomachs only half full, we flew to Ortigas to meet with a friend who left law school for the ad world. Despite the haggard look, Podium was the destination. Went to Borough's, which is the only 24 hour resto in the place. God forbid me, they have the best gravy ever! Plus they have chocolate coated chicken wings and awesome burgers! Recommended! Except that the waiters were already looking at us when we were talking so loud and fast, they must have thought we were in some food court in SM.

Thursday | Friday
Since we were already in Ortigas, we decided to go to the nearest place to drink. World, welcome to Home Depot. The thing about my friends I like was how they didn't care about still having class in a few hours. Nobody cared about no one, except for Cuervo.

Friday| 4AM
Wasted and all, my friend dropped me in our apartment gate a few minutes after I realized I forgot my gate keys. With the dogs howling, bells ringing and thieves lurking, I walked to the nearest pay phone (boo dead phone) to call my sister. And lo behold, the gate was opened after an hour! I could have actually attended Simbang Gabi except that I smell of alcohol and sex.

Friday | 2PM
I ate rice. Bow.

Friday | 5PM
Sleepy and groggy, I can't afford to miss Lantern Parade. Though I didn't finish because of crappy engineering orgs who paraded without anything exciting to show, the affirmation that at least I am still amazed by a lot of things is enough already.

Friday | 10PM
Class Christmas party. Ugh.

Saturday | 5 PM
Panic gift buying.

Saturday | 7PM
College barkada Christmas party. Were we that old already? Last year we were talking about thesis, events and the latest movies; now we speak alien! Being one of the few unemployed beings, its actually funny to see them talk about how A earns a lot in an inter national finance company. Or how awkward it is t have office relationships. Unfortunately for me, I can only bore them with my stories, Funny how a lot of things may change in a year, but one thing always remains.

Saturday | Sunday
Alcohol again. The last time I checked, I still have blood in my veins. So I guess it wasn't that too bad. But I might cool off with any alcoholic beverages this break.

Sunday | Whole day

(I thought of posting pictures, but then caution is a nice word. Plus I still have a lot of sleep to catch up. Me and sister will Binondo tomorrow. World, I'm back!)

Konichiwa bitches

My body is screaming alcohol!

I went to a friend's party in Katipunan the other day, but I almost threw up when I entered the place. I know almost every corner, taste of every drink and looks of every waiter, I just can't afford to spend another moment inside. So instead of drinking and getting drunk, I just sat there listening to all their rumblings and worldly drama.

Saturday nights used to be fun. Booze, smoke-stained shirts and tired feet were the symbol of one hell of a weekend. But then, everything is entirely different now. Still getting familiar with all the faces and getting the hang of the new setting, I am a wallflower with a glass of martin.

A friend called earlier and asked if I want to go to this new bar near Manila Ocean Park. But I guess I was too tired and traumatized by how my social life has been acting lately, I said no. We should be sobering up now, maybe in Mcdo or some coffee shop, laughing our asses off because she's been offered by a men's magazine to pose for them, but she said "Ay, hindi high concept." We could have killed ourselves laughing and getting our body drowning in mixed alcohol.

Srsly, I just need an effin drink.

And oh, Robyn is my goddess. Her song above is an ultimate study music. Plus she's Swedish so that's a plus one million points.


All I wanted was to tell you all my secrets. After all, we were on the same boat; and carrying these things inside that no one else can see will hold us down like anchors and drown us out at sea.

I should have told you to trust me, for I perfectly know how it feels. I know exactly how it feels to cry in the shower so no one can hear you. Waiting for everyone to fall asleep so you can fall apart. For everything to hurt so bad you just want it all to end. I should have told you I know exactly how it feels.

All I wanted was to tell you all my secrets. But you turned out to be one, instead.

And I sit alone at night asking myself just when did all this pain begin.

Classroom chronicles

There is always something ill-fitting and queer when I see too much drama. The perplexity of my emotion has never bothered me, but such external complication perfectly stimulates that guy who walks out of a room, never looking back.

Take for example, my classmates who make life a campus perfect for an episode of Gossip Girl. But no, I don't hate them, I actually find it funny. Human bonds, or the making of, are bound for messy complications, which make it a joke.

Guy gets close with Girl1. Girl2 enters the scene.
I guess menage a trois did not work well for them, and I might throw up if it did work. I get to drink often with Guy and Girl1 and I almost fell from my seat when she said this epic line-"Before, I am the female friend; now I am just another friend." Whoever said law school leaves no room for creativity haven't been to our inuman sessions.

Girl broke up with Guy. Girl cuts communication. Guy initiates.
Moving on is a universal phenomenon, tested and proven. And for this girl, 5 months is too short. Despite big "No, I've moved on" or "I am okay, srsly", nothing beats implied actions- say checking his mail because she still has his password or mentioning him when we stop by a place they used to go to. The beauty of growing up it is.

Girl almost hooked up with Guy. Guy clinged.
The line between a fling and something serious is so clear I could see its pores. One could cross eventually, but to hold on to one night, no, barely 5 minutes is beyond hideous. Frustrations envelope the world, but matters like this, I'm frustrated. Ah, irony.

Guy has a lot of issues.
The most interesting species of all. Nothing beats a guy who had the family drama enough to beat Guillen's Tanging Yaman, enough social issues to ruin Regina George's life and lack of life to hold on to. He used to be funny- a living proof that too much drama is deadly.

Girl falls for Guy. Guy will never ever fall.
This is funny. And yes, reading between the lines is recommended.

I guess I am empty. Issues with human emotions and irrationality just make it more infinite. So I guess I have to pretend like I'm one normal guy until I find something or someone to actually fill it in.

Pseudo 80's love story

Like an antithesis to a John Hughes film, I have always wondered how would things end between us. Not that it matters, but at least some decency to close some doors left for expectations and weekly page visit on some social networking sites. But life has its funny ways.

It's that moment where Lloyd Dobler turns off and put that boombox back to his car.

Today was random day. After my god-knows-how-boring class, I received an sms from Nikki,a college barkada, who will be in the university to process some papers. The usual, she was late for an hour. But to compensate, she asked me to accompany her to Quiapo to check her client, then would foodtrip like the old days. Its food and Quiapo, so I said yes.

Instead of Jake Ryan waiting outside the church, the graveyard was there in black and white.

Looking back, I realized it didn't start as a real thing. Which makes me wonder if there's even a taint of sensibility on it. It was our last semester in college, both have the option of taking up law because of our parents and maybe we were just up for some frenzy to kill the stress out. You were the wallflower, but your crooked smile always got me. We were sweating after that PE class, but the locker room was always there for some more exciting game.

Semester ended, and I thought, maybe for one time I can let my safeguards down and try to take thing slowly and seriously. But we made it too clear that it was only good while it lasts. There was nothing to look forward to. And since I suck at expressing emotions thru words, I asked you to watch a short film as my way of saying goodbye.

Describing Blake McDonough as "not like the others" by your best bud is far fetched, like the impossibility of proposing inside a trespassed football stadium.

After a few trips to Hidalgo and filling our appetite with reused oil infested foods along the streets of Recto, Nikki and I decided to call it a day. Instead of walking to Recto station like we used to, we decided to take a jeep and take the Legarda station instead. With heavy bags and stomachs, we argued what part of the train will we sit. I won, and waited at the one nearest to the front, just behind the discriminatory line of all train system in the country.

Life has insane ways of keeping things up. My eyes roamed for a few seconds and there you are waiting on the same train line as I am. Of course I knew you are already in Beda. But never in my wildest fantasy did it caught me that of all the possible time and place, it has got to be today. If this got to be an authentic 80's movie, then this would probably signal the musical number.

My heart skipped a beat. My emotions would have prompted me too walk towards you and say hi. Maybe we could catch up with our lives, discuss the Supreme Court plagiarism case or some law shits if you want to, or just some random musings. But I guess that was not meant to be. I pretended to text while talking to Nikki but as soon as I raised my head, you were already on the other yellow waiting line on the train, just looking at the darkness with blank eyes. That was so you. As a defense I also moved to the next opposite line. Our eyes could've met, but I was afraid I might see fire in your eyes, and you might see mine. So we faced againts each other and went silent. Fair game.

Gilmore station. Where else would you go but to treasure the sanctity of your room and your nirvana of being left alone. But the four stations between Legarda and Gilmore was enough to clarify one thing- it was all for nothing.

John Bender could have punched his fist to the air to signify a romantic triumph, but instead, it hit me on the face, and woke me up.

Your birthday greeting two months ago was a line from that film I gave you. I thought is was hilarious for your sarcastic sense of humor. I just found out Australian Filmfest is showing Mary and Max next month and I thought of how we both like that movie and the part where Que Sera Sera was played. The memory of our first and last conversation along Katipunan, still in vivid colors in my head. But the last time I checked my heart, it was numb all over.

We all have scars. We all have stories. But if it's not like the 80's movies, then I guess that's just how it should be.


This ought to be a guide for my family and friends who will, and most probably, buy me a gift for the Holidays.

In bold are those I have read

In italics, those I would appreciate to have within the end of the year.

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen

2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien

3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte

4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling

5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee

6 The Bible

7 Wuthering Heights

8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell

9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman

10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens

11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott

12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy

13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller

14 Complete Works of Shakespeare

15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier

16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien

17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk

18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger

19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger

20 Middlemarch - George Eliot

21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell

22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald

24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy

25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams

27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky

28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck

29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll

30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame

31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy

32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens

33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis

34 Emma -Jane Austen

35 Persuasion - Jane Austen

36 The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - CS Lewis

37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini

38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres

39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden

40 Winnie the Pooh - A.A. Milne

41 Animal Farm - George Orwell

42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown

43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving

45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins

46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery

47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy

48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood

49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding

50 Atonement - Ian McEwan

51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel

52 Dune - Frank Herbert

53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons

54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen

55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth

56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon

57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens

58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley

59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon

60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck

62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov

63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt

64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold

65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas

66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac

67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy

68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding

69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie

70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville (just a few chapters though)

71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens

72 Dracula - Bram Stoker

73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett

74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson

75 Ulysses - James Joyce

76 The Inferno - Dante

77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome

78 Germinal - Emile Zola

79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray

80 Possession - AS Byatt

81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens

82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell

83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker

84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro

85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert

86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry

87 Charlotte’s Web - E.B. White

88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom

89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton

91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad

92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery

93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks

94 Watership Down - Richard Adams

95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole

96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute

97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas

98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare

99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl

100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo


I have never finished and Bronte's novel in my whole life, and Marquez and Austen's books are my sleeping pills.

I have never read a hard core sci-fi. I tried Asimov and I burned the book.

I read The Bible because I used to be the family's holiest boy.

For my college barkada christmas party, I wished for the complete set of Larsson's Millenium Trilogy or Krauss' The History of Love.

I dig law books now. I feel sick I might throw up anytime after publishing this.

Not gift related

I would never date someone who had never read The Little Prince and do not know how to pronounce Les Miserables.

X & Y

A friend, born during the Martial law era, told me I was lucky to be born in the 90s. As he lamented, his generation has no identity-they were too young to actually realize the Marcos regime and the first people power was more of a holiday for them.

I then asked, but you call yourselves Generation X right? That signifies something. You were the children of parliamentary. The last of those with ideas of fascism and a government banning Voltes V thinking it would lead to revolution. We don't have that crazy laws now.

He said it was nothing. The children of the war were deemed to be the best generation, those that followed after were the baby boomers, which gave birth to my generation. His, according to him, was never tainted with such important event that will distinguish his generation- they were raised restraint from a lot of things and when they had the the opportunity to be mature, there were no more cause to fight for- no more evil empire to fight, no more Eureka moment to actually find fulfillment.

I rested my case. But then it bothered me, aside from being called the Y Generation, was there anything I could exclusively attribute to my generation that would stop me from going back to the conversation I had above.

You have the internet, he said.

Yeah, if you're from some first world country. Here, I guess my generation share with the Millennium babies the credit for that. And I thought of my 10 year-old sister playing Pet Society.

You have Jolina, he laughed. I thought he was right, at least the standard on how you perceive a jologs from one who is not came from the days we cheer for Judy Ann and Wowie.

In my mind, I can actually think of different factors that would differentiate my generation from that of the others. There are the various scandals and economic crisis that marked what our country is now; the boom of Monica Brava and Meteor Garden and Power Ranger; globalization and digital innovation to name a few. But to think of those as the defining identity of our generation has not yet caught my mind. We didn't have John Hughes. The Beatles and the Smiths are played on tape, with no possibility of seeing live. The evil sought now is different from that of the early years.

At least Gen X and Y cultures are not disposable. What we have will last and will always be a part of us, no matter what. I told him while we sip the last of our coffee.

We laughed.

God, can you imagine kids today talking about Kim Chiu after ten years? I bet they wouldn't even remember her. At least we have Julie Vega before, he boasted.

(Comic) geek in the pink

I have been reading a lot of graphic novels these past few weeks. Well, the geek inside me has prevailed over law school pressure so comics and some novels had again taken my life. At least it gave me a break from plain black and white sheets of paper scattered across my room.

Graphic novels, I believe, still has a very small market in the country. But in case you decide to spend your bucks on one, here are some recommended titles and character with a touch of pink you could start from:)

1) Wiccan and Hulkling of Young Avengers
I actually have to stop before I continued writing because I get too excited. Undeniably, these two are the cutest couple in the whole Marvel universe. Wiccan is the Scarlet Witch's son and Hulkling is the son of Mr. Marvel and some woman from Krull. The first few issues of the comic were filled with innuendos, but in the 12th and the following issues, their relationship has been a very vocal focal point of the story. I read the graf novel for the nth time and I still have the heartstop moment.

3) Midnighter and Apollo of The Authority
If Batman would have been gay, he'd be Midnighter. But I guess they are not that appealing if you are not into stories of historic and military background. But Midnighter's influence in gay pop culture as the first gay character to have his own titled series is huge. Plus, they even got married and adopted a baby girl. I still have to catch up with their story line and I am not really positive with superheroes marrying, but I guess I'll spare some more space for them.

2) Northstar of X-Men
This, I found hard to find, even online. I guess his story line is too disrupted since he is not a main character compared to say, invincible Wolverine or too gay Storm. But hey, Northstar is the most openly gay character in the whole mainstream comic world, even having crush on Iceman. I guess X-men just have to develop him more.

I think the three above is the best place to start with. But of course there are still more that feature pink character more or less. The new series Chew has a cop who seems gay, Neil Gaiman had one in The Sandman. But if you just want some plain love story, try Yaoi. There are some good find like Seven Days, but most are trashy over squeezed plots.

Okay, I can't help but post more shots from Wiccan and Hulkling. Forgive me, I am a big fan.

Bookstores don't have closets

I guess I have been breathing books even before I knew the pleasure of orgasm. Both my parents are from the academe, and I would spent significant parts of my childhood surrounded by shelves and closets of books and my dad's physics journals. In my mind, I traveled with Anne of Green Gables and moved mountains with Matilda.

To escape the realms of this world, I have to read.

I have read Sherlcok Holmes and Dr. Watson, Dorian Gray and Sir Henry, Batman and Robin but the notion of what I know now as bromance was for me, just pure friendship. Nothing like the Jane Austen type of novel. Mr. Darcy, for me, was an attractive fellow and Cyclops in his tight suit is the man. It was, in my young mind, a very usual attachment.

It was not until I felt different that I scrambled through our mini library to look for fictional characters that I might relate to. The closest I got was Oscar Wilde's (thus my fascination for his greatness), Mr. Hadolini in Catcher in the Rye and Patrick from The Perks of Being a Wallflower. But scrambling more through our house, the closest I found to explain the attraction I felt was in my father's books about gravity.

That moment, I realized how prejudiced my situation was. While Elaine, the school queen bee has Stargirl to giggle with whenever the cute guy from the higher level looks at her, I was trying to fit myself in the Bronte sister's tales despite the fact that I was falling for the boy who leads the flag ceremony. And while she reads A Walk to Remember when she found out he is already taken, I was stuck in the real world, with no avenue to travel to another world.

When I wanted to escape the most, confused with what was happening, there were a few worlds to rely on- that was my sadness. Deep inside, I thought, even great minds hide inside dark closets to escape the real world's skepticism.

Years after, I still seek for solitude in those worlds read and created by my mind. I would still check the Gay & Lesbian shelf in National Bookstore in Cubao and sigh when I see the conservatism in such place that is supposed to be a collection of all sort of portals. Despite my smiles when I see the growing numbers of non fictional books in the university's main library, I still think of those young struggling kids who was in the same situation as I was before-why couldn't Sherlock Holmes just marry Dr. Watson, they're perfect together!

There is no such thing as a moral or immoral book, Books are well written, or badly written. Perfect words from Mr. Wilde.

If there's one thing reading has taught me, it is that the world out there is big enough for me. Maybe not as vast and understanding as the fictional world I am used to, but definitely worth living. And that there are always opportunities to scavenge through old and dusty closets to search a world even greater than what C.S. Lewis could imagine.

Back to the story

"I really like you. Okay, I also like her, but that's it. I can like any other person, right? But with you its really different."

Bullshit. You can now go back to being a slimy and disgusting frog.

Now, I don't believe in commitment but I respect those who do. One reason: my bestfriend believes in her fairytale and her knight in shining armor. Through the years, I saw her earnestly wait for that guy and swallowed my own pride to catch with her bombshell dreams.

So I was ecstatic when he told me about him. A few weeks after, she introduced him and would invite me to third party their date. The few months, I saw my bestfriend strut through busy workload and stress with a smile. All the time, I saw stars in her eyes, I wondered if maybe I am wrong.

Then the above quoted words. I don't care if I won't have time to read the freaking assigned cases. This is one of those very seldom times I leave neverland and squeeze the humane in me. All for her, to hell with that guy-frog.

One word or act, and the fairytale starts to crumble. Snow White enticed by the redness of the apple, took a bite; Aurora, in her curiosity, touched that one thing she had never laid her eyes on ever. And that guy fucked the whole things up.

I am in no position to mutter "I told you so", but she let her fairytale crumble and told me I may be correct. From the person I least expected to agree with me, I felt like the evil witch in every tale.

And there, out of nowhere or maybe of desperation, I told her she did not do anything to be like me. I still believe she is the princess of her own fairytale and I don't want to be the one to blame when she ends up being the evil queen.

And just like that, I threw the black coat of cynicism and tried to weave back her aspirations of love and hope. Without the deep sleep, Snow White or Aurora won't get that true love's kiss. For a moment, I believed, for her sake.

Chances are, she's already crying herself to sleep now. And I was left lying in my bed, with books and papers scattered on the floor, thinking.

One guy told me I am in the borderline of misanthropy. I don't think I am. But the world is one wicked stepmother's poisonous apple, its beauty baneful, its sweetness deadly that left me nothing but doubt.

The walking dead

Right after I was quite sure my parents were willing to pay for my yet another four years of school, I told myself I have one semester to actually sort things out. You see, while most were rejoicing to be part of the 15% who passed, I was talking to my thesis adviser with tears in my eyes.

You know when they always tell you to choose the good path? I bet your Sunday school teacher taught you that, too. But I was often caught in a situation where the few options remaining seem to be better than the other. And with no time in my hands, I went with my guts.

I saw myself with an enrollment form and cases to be read even if I wasn't enrolled yet. I prepared for a life of- oh, no life.

But I told myself I have to settle everything after the semester so it won't be too hard to go back to point zero in case thing fall apart. So sembreak it was, make or break.

But the last two weeks just saw me watching foreign movies (thank god torrent, forgive me laptop), catching up on unwatched series and starting new ones, and reading novels bought during the semester. And since I am broke, I sticked to reading The Walking Dead in PDF. Some morning I spent drinking coffee with my parents, some spent in the bed hugging the cold fresh wind on the country.

It was two weeks of absolutely no heavy thinking, except for some guessing game with my high school friends about who's who with whom.

And just like that, the semestral break was over and I was up facing another yet miserable months ahead of me with a mind of blur. It's like when Rick Grimes woke up in the hospital bed and saw the world devastated with zombies but has no idea how suddenly every human body is like a entrée.

And now, I have to sleep early because tomorrow is yet another day. Or I could just finish reading TWD and go to class tomorrow with bloodshot eyes and rotten attitude.

To hell with the starbucks planner...

I'm buying this.
Witty will save the World's 2011 planner! Check it here-

Or if anyone out there is willing to buy me one, I would really appreciate.

Merry Christmas! :D


I was quite the corky kid in my WorldLit class back in college. I ran against almost all of the majority's point of view. I thought Medea is but amazing and Yokio Mishima is the most underrated Japanese writer. I went against this cocky engineering student who still wear elephant pants when talking of human nature in discussing The Iliad.

But I guess it, the cynicism, took its toll when we took up Inspirational literature and Paolo Coehlo. As far as I can remember, I was the only one in the class arguing against the mysticism surrounding the sudden boom of books that tells me everything is going to be alright. Don't get me wrong, I actually think Coehlo's Eleven Minutes is quite good. But the fuss behind literature being inspirational that tells one how to live his life is not quite beyond my catch.

But sometimes some good "it-will-get-better" moments are needed. Especially now when things are changing at a pace faster than I never would imagine when I was back in college.

Ah, cynicism at its best.


I hope my sister won't notice the correlation between her absence and the amount of tissue in the trash bag. Ahh, the best thing about being a law student.

I am referring to semestral break.

Save it for the rainy day

I am used to comfort when it rains.

As a kid, I associate the rain with hot home-made soup from my mom and a whole day snuggle with my Spiderman pillows with a good mystery novel to make me sane. Where I grew up, a typhoon signal number 2 can mean brown-out. The fascination of playing with melted candle and moths, I enjoyed in front a warm coffee and nice family talks with my parents and siblings. Late cold nights always end with us all covered in blanket with some eery fabricated stories to tell. The aftermath-no classes, the smell of the sun as it hits the drenched leaves, was still perfect.

There goes my fascination for rain, which until now, had grew up with me. But all the things that used to come with it did not.

Now, I try to find contentment in a bowl of instant noodles, or if I'm lucky, some cheap batchoy in the carinderia across the street. I would still cover myself with blanket but Spiderman and mystery novels were long gone and all I can see are books and cases that are left unread. I would call my mom to ask how she is, but would try hard not to initiate one with my dad. Scary stories, I would still tell myself- but they don't take the form of a lady in white or some big guy smoking. There are more things in life that are worth the fear.

When rain finds me, all I can do is to find solitude in putting my hoodie on, walking and eventually reminiscing some memories that would hopefully keep me warm.

10 things I wish people know/don't know about me

mind too tired from studying + waiting for tea to get warm + lack of interesting thing to post

I was originally tagged to give things people may not know about me. But I think I already did that a few years ago in another blog, so scrap. Here's to boredom!

I wish people know that...
1) I cry over chick-flicks and likes watching one when I am sad. I am a "mind" person. but that doesn't mean I lost attachment to the "heart".
2) I am not a text person. I check my phone like a yaya watching telenevola checks her alaga.
3) I get sick easily. I have random(anytime, anywhere) epistaxis attack whenever my body feels imbalanced.
4) I only look snob. Okay, people think I have some swagger, but really, I am nice. My mom actually thinks I am too nice.
5) I am more of a wallflower. Oh, maybe that's the reason for 4.
6) I suck at consoling crying friends. I would often slam the truth in their face, so I always end up keeping quiet, which I am not capable of.
7) I hate people who thinks Michael Cera is Jesse Eisenberg.
8) I go to a bookstore to read, not to flirt. Every time, every fucking time.
9) I don't have the time like I had before.
10) I am not straight.

I wish people don't know that...
1) I am always online, only invisible because it completely destroys the purpose of being invisible.
2) I read a lot. I hate it when people ask me "Hey have you read this book?" and turns out I still haven't. It's even sadder than blowing a virtual birthday cake on iPad.
3) I seldom borrow books. Uneasiness engulfs my whole body every time I lend books. Because lending books means updating my book inventory and making sure the pages are still complete and in good condition.
3) I don't get drunk easily. I miss playing drunk and acting wasted just to bull some people off.
4) I give rationale advice because it gets annoying when people don't listen and tell me I am too cynic and realistic but would call in the middle of the night to tell me I am right.
5) I make exam reviewers that I share with my friends. I am crab at some point but it gets annoying when law school gets too high school-ly. But yeah, it's sorta high school.
6) I am adept in Photoshop and arts. Back in college, free service when abused is not fun.
7) I love movies. Same reason as 2 and 3.
8) my ultimate dream is to work in an ad agency. I still find it hard to explain when people ask I am I in law school.
9) I live in an area accessible to almost everywhere. "Hey I am in katip, inuman"- ok. "Eastwood, movie"-ok. "Coffee, kahit saan"-ok.
10) I usually over-think.

grab some coffee and last minute cram in technohub + exam later + school forever

Fuck hate

This is a straight talk about gay marriage.
The guy in 2:01 is marry-able.

But srsly, this goes well with the current RH Bill in the country. And god knows how much we needed one.


I am always caught in this situation. As much as I hate it, I often see myself in the middle of every family misunderstandings.

Every fucking time, there has to be this one person to stand in between clashing stones. That one person that will always take the blame no matter what just to smoothen things up. These people don't even understand the pressure and stress they have been placing in my back ever since I took up their fucking dreams.

Please just kill me.

An instant fairy tale

Think back ten to fifteen years ago. Jolina was still the icon and you wished you could ask your mom to buy those butterfly clips but your dad insisted Power Ranger action figures are for big boys like you. You agreed, but after taking the five-man team from its box, you immediately took hold of Pink Ranger and played. You spent your whole
afternoon watching Mexican telenovela, dubbed Japanese animes and the commercials in between hoping to see Rico Yan in his Eggnog commercial.

Now, Jolina tries to sing and dance ala Gaga in a Sunday noontime show, the Power Rangers are competing with Sex Bomb’s Daisy Siyete in terms of show seasons and Rico Yan is but a name for your younger sister. Late afternoons are now filled with Filipino drama remakes. All the dramas and cartoons you grew up with are either placed on a
worse timeslot or axed by the TV exec to give way for some starlet.

You don’t even bother to pay attention to commercial breaks anymore because you are tired of looking at Kris Aquino or Manny Pacquiao’s face. The only interesting ads for your eyes are those with Daniel Matsunaga or some hot guys taking their clothes off in front of you.

But comes this.

Suddenly, everything goes back. It was all familiar. This is the same commercial you saw back when you can still cheer for Bobby-Angelu. But wait, the guy looks different, the girl too, and the place, that’s not where it was before. But it was the same commercial you admired, you tell yourself.

Guy sees Girl. Girl sees Guy. Guy smiles at Girl. Girl smiles back. Some magic happens emphasized by sparkling glitters. (Cue from the product) And in the end, the two are together, happy. All the time, the background songs just makes the moment even more worthwhile.

Then it hits you. Just like the happy ending fairy tales your nanny used to read to you before you sleep when you were five, this same 30-second motion clip had that same effect back then. That’s why it looks very familiar.

And the fairy tale effect lingered on you more than you ever expected. You spent your teenage years waiting for that magical moment when all the people around you would suddenly slow down and the universe will let you feel the moment as you saw him walk by and look into your direction. Knowing that he may be around the corner waiting, you
filled your young days hoping that in the middle of what you are doing, some enchanted moment will let you use your smile and breathe from the same toothpaste ad.

Then you grew up. Waiting turned out to be tiring. Magic became passé.

It took you time, years actually to realize that there is no background song when some important moment in your doomed life occurs. The closest you had was when the jeepney you were on played You Belong With Me the day you learned he is dating a new guy from a college not even part of Diliman campus.

But you still like the ad, admit it. It has changed its actors, but it never gets old on you.

Or maybe, just maybe, the whole idea of the ad with the fairy tale charm it exudes and the promises that lay ahead the last few shots bring did notreally leave you.

Go check, the inner wishful kid might still be there.


What happened on the 20th of September two years ago was some random event of lesser cosmic significance.

It was your birthday, and was the first time I actually had the courage to take steps to know you more. It was your birthday and you said you wanted to start from scratch. After some puppy heartbreaks, you said at 19, you ought to be mature. No more hesitations, no more wasted time waiting and expecting for things not meant to be. You said you were up to actually fight for what you want.

The day after, it was your turn to greet me. I though it was some divine shit to actually have our birthdays follow each other. I just turned 18 and god knows how cheesy those exchange of text messages were.

I told you I wanted to scrap some part of the cynic in me. You told me I can start by opening myself more to someone I would really want to be with. I did. And by starting to take you seriously, I thought it was one step towards becoming more trusting .

It was an almost genesis. But it turned out you can't actually leave things behind and start without making the past justified or resolved. You told me the kid in you was still too playful. I was frank when I admitted I still have problems with commitments.

But yes, in my part, it turned out to be a beginning of what seemed to be the longest torture from waiting, hoping and wishing.

I don't think I would greet you, and I bet you'll greet me only out of decency. But nevertheless, happy birthday and let's hope this thing will end soon.

(This entry, because I can't really tell people the reason behind why I hated celebrations, in this case, birthdays)(Pero actually, gusto ko lang talagang magdrama kasi 20 na ako. Pota.)

Perfecting the act

"Bakit wala ka pang girlfriend?"

That is the question I dreaded most when I meet new people, okay, girls. If there's one thing left untouched by the law school stress and boredom in this life, that is my social life. I still manage to go out every week, drink with friends and random people and be carefree. Of course the consequence are also great- cases left unread, wallet left starving and acting gone trained. Technically, there is no pretending since that's my normal personality, but when the talks come to issues on relationships, questions on sex life, my half baked rationale makes the stage crumble and shake.

"Come on, spill it."

When the booze comes pouring and the smoke gets in your eyes, you know you have to be at your best(read: be cautious). Although alcohol never gets into my nerves easily, drunk conversation are reasons why there are talks of of the town the next day. And to be known as a great pretender is the publicity I don't need now.

"I mean, you have everything to make a girl fall."

You can't just throw up when stage fright catches you. But during this time of the conversation, it gets nauseating to actually get on your knees and continue the role. Flirting girls are flirting girls. Legs start to widen, lips get wet from licking tongues, and provocative talks fill the air with libido. But god knows how slut my friends are and how immune I am with this kind of situation.

"If you really want to, you can find the time to commit."

I hate explaining why I don't want to enter into a relationship. This entry is no exception.

"Saka, unlike female law students, you guys don't have to worry you might be intimidating girls."

There is this story in law school that creeps the women. According to the story, a group of law students from our school went to a bar. A group of guys approached them and asked their names. The conversation went well but the guys asked what's making the girls busy. The girls, proud, said "Oh we are law students from *bleep". The guys nodded their head and said their goodbyes. The next time they went to that bar, the girls introduced themselves as nursing students.

"You know you can always call me."

This is the part where the lights are supposed to dim and the curtains to fall. But this act is different. In this play, the actor finishes his role only when the lights go out and he is left alone.

I am seldom left alone.


Some of the worst mistakes of my life have been haircuts. So until now, I don't get the reason behind getting one after a break-up.

It came even before the Popoy-Basha thing in One More Chance. Friends would cry over one lost love and then a week after, it's like an entirely new persona without any trace of what was lamented. A lot of people I know turned to this therapy and looking at the frequency it is being used, maybe it works.

Everyone will tell you deserve better. But the reality is, no one is willing to give it to you. Maybe the whole overhaul part is to commence an entirely new chapter. New hair, new perspective. It may be placebo, but who am I to say. All I know is getting yourself fixed is preparatory if you want to be back in the market again.

Or maybe it is because it is easier to have a part of your body cut than to fight for what you really want and be left bruised and scarred inside.

And oh, regarding haircuts, I hate having one when I have an exam. I think I am cutting some part of what I have studied. See, my problems are surreal.

To seatmate-Follow your heart. (But you know I will actually say "Kike mo, mag-aral ka muna.")

Let me see what's underneath

No not your peacock.

God knows how much I miss college PE days. Despite our school's ill maintained shower rooms, I still miss the actions.

Rant: With this freaking month's sched, I guess this blog is up for hiatus.

Shameless plugging

Dahil walang saysay ang buhay kung walang... SHOCK VALUE!
For its 35th theater season, Dulaang UP will bring back TV's most wanted monsters. Shock Value will run from the 15th of September till some time in October.

You should watch because
1) My friend is part of the cast.
2) I watched it four years ago and I can still play scenes in my mind.
3) It is Dulaang UP + Floy Quintos
4) One of the best I've seen from the group.

September is a good month. It will be.

Drought over

Okay. I watched the pageant while studying so my attention was distracted plus Philippines in the semis was, for me, predictable. But this video is just share-able. Veejay Floresca jumping is a sight to behold.
I assume every beauty pageant fanatics were as wild as the video, or maybe wilder.

Congrats Venus Raj! Major Major!


Sometimes, I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I am not living. That most of the time, I ask myself how's it going with the lie I am dealing with.


I don't know if this has to do with both my parents working for the government or it's just they know the way to my mind.

I am not actually vocal with my parents about what's happening with my life. They never heard anything from me when I was on the verge of shifting to MassComm back in college , nor when I had the worst heartache I had so far. I am close to my mom, but my nature just leans towards being secretive and unexpressive.

Except for these past months. I was very vocal with the stress and death I am suffering.

And because my parents were such good angels sent from heaven (sarcasm included), the moment my mom visited me and my sister in our apartment, a money wasting spree happened. My mom said I should also destress sometimes and plunge myself with worldly pleasure(I wish I could tell her Mr. Dreamguy is single once again).

So after one weekend of doing not law related things, I saw myself with a brand new laptop, an extra phone so I can have a Sun sim, more money in my account, almost a dozen new novels and DVDs and brand new school supplies.
Again, I am not sure if I'll be happy or not.

Naiveness can be dangerous

We were never allowed to have cats as pet- the absolute opposite of our neighbor who has at least 6 cats in their house. I was in high school when I saw our neighbor's 5 year-old son drop one of their cat's new born kitten from their balcony. The kid went down to check the kitten, but as I expected, the poor kitten was already dead. Instead of crying, the kid's face was painted with disappointment.

When I was given a chance to talk with the kid, I asked him why he did that to the poor kitten. His innocent face turned on me and explained the reason in his childish way. It turned out, his yaya told him cats have nine lives and the reason why there are a lot of cats in the highway was due to the fact that they don't die easily. So the unsuspecting kid did what he thought was real. And the reality was not what he expected. And one life has to suffer.

But that was years ago and the kid is already old to know that cats don't have more than one life- already grown up to be more critical and sophisticated.

Everyday, I sleep at 3AM when my eyes start to feel drowsy. I wake up exactly an hour before my class. If earlier, I grab my books and read again. If later, I rush and could finish personal care for 10 minutes. I go to school with a backpack, a shoulder bag, book in one hand and a jacket on the other. I would pass by the canteen to buy water and candy, sometimes take a smoke. I would take my seat in the center of the room and start to curse the cases I wasn't able to finish. During the class, my emotions would shift from nervousness to relief to being more nervous until the prof leaves the room. After class, I would chitchat with some friends. I would either go home or to the library with one purpose- to study. But I always end up sleeping. I would eat dinner, and realize I haven't eaten anything the whole day. Surf the internet a few minutes, go back to reading then sleep. The cycle just goes on. For weekends, just remove the going to school part and you have my life.

This routine, for the purpose of a possible long term benefit my parents have longed for. The idea of having someone of legal profession in the family was such a vision that was brought upon by Ally McBeal and relatives who are not satisfied with their lives. The notion of a good future, fulfilling career, dozens of car and mistresses seem enticing enough for my titos, titas and cousins' uncomplicated mind. I was the golden boy, anyway.

People, when clueless about something, take what other people say without further questions. Often times, they are trapped by the expectations that they take it as the reality without even thinking. Worse, they take other people with their perceived reality.

I was no superman. But this current artless life had turned out to be my kryptonite.