Bored phase when I was obliged to go with my family in the province last weekend

I have no choice but to pretend to be mute. I can't even recall their names. I only remember their faces-- lined with traces of age and labor.

I am here to listen, only listen. I have nothing to offer. My presence, they say, is significant. To be seen, that's my purpose. It's a way of showing courtesy and respect. But not liking and affection.

These people bounced dialects as to that in a badminton match. Never failed to understand each other. I am nothing here but a net, a divider that separates two understanding people. I wish I can play their game, too. Even if my serve will be called as an error.

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Poem/Prose update: Love Is Suicide

Livejournal update: Desire, Baby

It's Friday but I can't seem to be delighted. The weekend's a suffering! I have to be insolated as my folks and I have to go to the province for some unnecessary and ancestral gathering. The weather sucks. The heat fuels my already flaring irritation especially in my workplace. That's my problem these days, I can't be jolly.

About this entry? I like to play with words. Two people compelled me to write this title: my friend, Ida, who had a recent entry called "Happy Meals" and Manny Pacquiao. The latter disappointed me. I mean, if he was promoting nationalistic pride, he should have at least thought twice before accepting the McDonald's offer. Tsk, tsk, tsk, here I am again, creating problems for myself. And Ida's blog entry? Can't really tell the difference of the words jolly and nostalgia when I read it and saw the picture. Aww!

Towards a more vague and senseless topic, Lent is going to be soon. Wah! How I look forward to be part of all those Lenten activities in our church again: the Stations of the Cross, Visita Iglesia, 7 Last Words, High Mass, Salubong, etc. But boy, don't be overwhelmed with all of these and forthwith call me a religious freak. At times, I actually pity myself for doing things without reason, without sincerity and without meaning. I draw happiness just because of the happy people that surround me. 

It's soooo hot!!! In times like these, i can't forgive the sun and its rays. Why not? Even my favorite umbrella swore to never meet up with it again. Aarggh!

My mantra: Be jolly, be jolly, be jolly... This is not good, I'm getting hungry... 

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Livejournal update: Pizza Overload

OPM-song analysis update: The Ultimate 2

Korean movie/series review update: My Name Is Kim Sam Soon

It's a scary Monday. I don't know what the heat has done to me. It's yet to be April but I get nauseous because of the glistening pavements and the poor-ventilation here in the office. But I have to work, work, work. Needless to say, summer has begun. But I still can't forgive this Monday. Totally different. Totally.

Check out my new livejournal update and you'll know why...

Trigger Happy

The title is Pearl Jam's new single. It's a foreplay for the climactic release of their new album this May.

I need to take that matter aside and divert to a boring social issue. I watched Reporter's Notebook last night. They featured a remote place called Sitio Malasya in Montalban, Rizal. Nothing new. Another boring, overused, cliched display of poverty on television.

Don't people know the word NOVEL? These reporters are heartless. How can they break in and disturb a peaceful group of people who don't even have a clue what's going on the otherside of the world? Why do they need to dig about the scarcity of food, clothing, shelter and education? Why do they need to flash on TV screens the 3-hour walk to the city in case of emergency?

These people have died a long time ago. These people have killed themselves before. There's no point of resuscitating their egos, conscience and pathos. No need to instigate self-pity and inflame rage for the careless government. There's no need to worry.

We should worry more about ourselves. We, the deep-thinkers. We, the supreme. We, the intelligent. We, the upper-class. We, the working. We, the socialites. We, the living. Don't let grief and sympathy kill us. Don't let them.

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Livejournal update: The Ultimate Ratio

I can't help not to be left awe-struck after browsing through my friend's Friendster profile (I love the redundant word) that she dates the drummer of Razorback. Yeah, no biggie. Here I am claiming and posing with the "strictly-no association" tag. It's just Brian Velasco, the dude who hangs out with Louie Talan, Kevin Roy and Tirso Ripoll and who is now in the side-trip rock outfit, Brain Salad. No freaking way. Help me, I'm losing it.

People can attack you with surprises. And I'm left all defenseless. I'm planning to be a big-time groupie soon. My friend's my age and Brian's 29 (uy! feeling close, first name basis). Does it matter? In our demented society, we can't walk past the gossip-fueled conservatives who against all odds, will still say something bad and wrong about that age gap. Nothing but numbers. Nothing but subtraction and worrying about the difference. If it is genuine love so let it be. Instead of imposing the minus sign why can't we propagate LOVE to MULTIPLY. Whew! There goes the family planning neighborhood.

My friend was asking me if I knew the band because she initially didn't. Don't judge her. Music doesn't require us to be of specific age to savor its fruit. Music is history. We are all entitled to self-erudition. It's funny because I've been listening to Razorback back in my highschool days when I never even knew who are the real people behind those blazing music and cool name. Only when they released their recent albums did I come to really be engrossed in knowing the members and the band's history and discography.

On the other, yeah, age slightly does matter in music. Being an occasional-videoke belter, I am always at a loss everytime my friends, in their late 20's and early 30's will start to sing relatively OLD songs. Even a friend, who's just 24 years old picked songs which are out of my jukebox-like memory range. Nevertheless, it's never too late for you, for me and for everyone else. Music never runs out of books to enlighten and orient beginners. It never requires a discriminating exam before you can learn its roots. It is like a baton being passed on from one generation to another. It is up to us whether we remain to be innocent and indolent when we know there's always a room for learning.

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Livejournal update: Crying Lady

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Oh, happy day! Who in the world would believe that Diego Mapa read my Monsterbot review? Oh, really happy day!

Alkohol, alkohol
Paborito kong alkohol
Di ko kayang wala ito
Kulang nalang ay ipampaligo

Pagsakay sa jeep, alkohol
Pagkabili ng fishball, alkohol
Pag-about ng bayad sa bus, alkohol

Hugas lang nang hugas
Madaming alkohol
Mura lang, di mauubusan
Di maintindihan

Basbasan ang higaan
Alkoholan ang talampakan
Linisin ang kagamitan
Lalo na't kung may humiram

Alkohol, alkohol
Hugas lang nang hugas,
Madaming alkohol

*** Hindi po ito kanta ng Sago o ng Eheads. Wala lang akong magawa at napag-tripan kong sumulat tungkol sa alkohol (yung isopropyl)

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Livejournal update: Counting Zooming Cars
 

My student and I talked about Norebang last night. For all of you unkoreanized people, Norebang is a term for karaoke/videoke. "Bang" is a Korean word for room, "Nore" is a verb that means "to sing". I know that it is very popular in Korea but still I asked my student if most Koreans indulge in Norebang.

Student: Yes, of course
Me: I think a lot of Koreans love to sing.

Oops. Wrong reaction. I'll take it from there. Wasn't I too stupid to blurt out that assumption? Music is one of the vital elements of life. Only a deaf person does not have an idea of what music is. People give in to their musical cravings once in awhile. Even a newly born baby can be the successor of the late Kurt Cobain once he/she started to wail and cry out from the delivery room.

All of us can sing. Who's the idiot who proclaims that only sell-out/publicized/commercialized singers can sing? We have our respective voice boxes and diaphragms to be able to sing. I can't assure that all of us can sing well but we can sing. Some may be discriminatively labeled with the by phrase "out of tune" but who standardizes what's tuned in and tuned out? How come the erratic and enigmatic vocals of Bjork and the grungy and rough "talking" of Beck can't be criticized destructively?

Anyways, why did I meander? I was talking about Norebang. To continue, my student asked me if I also go to a Norebang.

Me: Of course! But here in the Philippines it is quite different. Some people will just buy or rent the videoke/karaoke machine and sing in their private homes.
Student: Oh, so you also sing a lot. I want to hear you sing.
Me: That will only happen if you will be the first one to sing.
Student: (disregarding my supposed-intermittent joke) I think you can sing well.
Me: I can't agree with what you said. How can you that?
Student: Your voice sounds good so I think you can sing well.

note: My student is an intermediate-leveled one. The grammar is hereby purposely corrected so as not to aggravate the reader's patience who would end up taking aspirin due to the fatality of Korean English.

That is the most illogical prediction/analogy/generalization/conclusion or whatever you want to call it I've ever heard. So it means, Myrene Academia should be the lead vocalist of Sandwich? Rico will score a record deal after his stay in the PBB house? Or maybe Erik Santos once joggled CD's while reading a radio-friendly spiel before?

If this is true, auditions for the next singing talent search should be held in callcenters. Then, the competition would be extremely tough.

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Updates on my livejournal: Hail to thee, queen of the damned!

We had a Korean feast last night. Imagine this: at around 12:30 M.N., I was munching over some of the best Korean cuisine. The problem was, I had a sumptuous dinner before that. But as I was informed that we will have a so-called ehem, "meeting" after work, I didn't have time to control my food intake during dinner. I was already full but out of courtesy and "panghihinayang" while thinking many street children don't even have a single crumb to lick, I have no choice but to gobble up whatever was served on the table. Thank goodness, it's a Monday so everyone was hurrying up so as not to cut short of sleep for the next day of work.

I'm not that adventurous when it comes to food. But I am not selective neither. I eat what is served for as long as I know that it is edible, clean and unspoiled. But last night wasn't that good because my tank is already full and I couldn't anymore figure out if what was I eating. I couldn't even tell the difference of pumpkin from potato in their dishes. Nevertheless, free food is still good food. Therefore, aside from the obligatory "Annyeong haseyo" midnight greeting of the waiters in the restaurant, they oriented and served us with these basic and popular dishes: (info courtesy of english.tour2korea.com)

Bulgogi 

Kimchi

Bibimbap

So far, those are the only dishes I can recommend because aside from eating a lot of pineapples for dessert, I am not that good at remembering the other foods I've tried. The only thing I remember?  All of them are plant-like and spicy :p

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I have another blog... another space to vent my random thoughts to...
http://elinia-witch.livejournal.com... gusto ko yung mga Current Mood icons eh!

Do check out din yung mga bagong pics ni Bi

Again, I've been sleepless because of colds and err, the new Sandwich album. Did I already mention that I reviewed it wonderfully?

This song is just so amazing. I can't stop listening to it. It's a sappy rock song. As you listen to it, the times get weirder and weirder. Hearing Raims' repetitive line, "All the way for you, all the way for you" flooded my mind with a gazillion of melancholic memories. As the song progresses, you are situated at the brim of nostalgia that you can't f*ckin' explain why the hell have you been listening to a stupid song and why do you have to feel stupid emotions when you have to do more stupid things? 

Oh, I might forget, here's another pic of Mong. Isn't he charming in yellow? Yellow mellow? haha... the jelly beans... nothing related, I need a filler for the 4x4 :p

push the button in case of panic/ a manual rule on this fantastic
everlasting/ change of setting
manic static

i'd go down with you/ if you go down with me
all the way and all the way you know

and i can see the reasons/ despite all the treasons
i'll be waiting all the way for you

try listening to it... In Case of Fire

At dahil Ash Wednesday kahapon at dahil lahat tayo ay paulit-ulit nagkakasala at dahil lahat tayo ay paulit-ulit umiibig at dahil lahat tayo ay di nadadala at dahil gusto ko itong kanta...

Walang Kadala-dala (Track 6, Sandwich's Five on the Floor)

Laging naniniwala/ Hindi nagsasawa/ Nahilo sa gayuma/ Kaya nawawala
Laging umaasa/ Ano bang meron siya/ Paulit-ulit lang naman/ Pinapaikot ka

Walang kadala-dala/ Napapatulala/ Walang kadala-dala/ Naghihintay sa wala

Nilumot na ang lupa/ Wala pa ring tiyak/ Napagod na ang luha/ Di na makaiyak
Sana ay matauhan/ Pusong nakabitin/ Kalimutan mo na sya't/ Ako ang pansinin

Walang kadala-dala/ Napapatulala/ Walang kadala-dala/ Naghihintay sa wala

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Review for the new Sandwich album, Five on the Floor