53: a non-standard ode to the night rain.

The sound comes as i sleep
of waterdrops on concrete
and tin roofs
Sleep comes
No matter how you fight it
And rain
From lands far away
No matter how you stop him
Reaches his beloved ground.

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52 about the empty buildings at night

I wonder how these empty dark buildings feel when they see me staring at them from the bus i'm in.
Are they thinking, these are our real selves:  removed of all the fancy lights and lit billboards; without the blaring music; emptied of people flocking like flies on shi poop.
Or maybe the other way around. You're not supposed to see us like this; These are not our real selves.  Tonight we sleep, tomorrow when we wake up we'll be full of life and music and you'll never think we were this dead the night before.
But then again talking malls would be freaky.

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51: about wide open spaces

There's something about wide open spaces that soothe me. Something about looking far out, staring at the horizon. Staring at the clouds. From somewhere high up, staring down at the traffic, at all the busy people.

Maybe it's something physical; something biological. Maybe it relaxes the eyes, the nerves loosening it up a bit instead of staring at something close to you, straining your eyes, focusing. Maybe this is why we yearn for the sea. Or the province.  Or somewhere high up the mountains.

Instead of the confines of your workspace. Instead of walls.

Sometimes it really does get to you, that longing to look beyond the things around you. Everyday you go to work and all you see are your monitor, the walls, the buildings. Your eyes start crawling up those buildings longing for a clear view of the sky but still billboards hinder you once you reach the top. 

You get tired. Sometimes you get tired of it all. Everywhere you look you are being offered something to buy. Clothes. Gadgets. Housing.  Happiness through clothing. Talent through gadgets. Peace of mind by buying their houses. Everywhere you look - they're always selling you something. Or reminding you that time rots everything.

On your way to work you stare out the train window and you try catch it, slits of the horizon, of a beautiful painting of a morning sky in between fast moving buildings. You strain your neck trying to get the most out of what is being shown to you while you burn out your 40 minute train ride. For brief moments you get to take a lot in. During those wide open spaces in between buildings you suddenly see the whole picture.

And for a brief moment you fly towards the horizon. And you are there floating among the skies, among your own ideas, thoughts. Just like you do when you're out there on vacation and you just stare up at the heavens.

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050: about the father.

Surprisingly my father is back to normal again. Around two weeks of painfully enduring him and his irrational behavior (purposely gagging himself, staying in bed for days literally etc; not eating enough) and now he's back to normal. He's doing his paperworks again for a post-retirement job which he chose to do himself to keep him occupied.

I admit I'm having a hard time warming up to him now, since that day I secretly saw him choke himself up and later tell us that he was having vomiting cycles. It was hard, because I used to argue in his defense with the rest of the family before, concerning their cold attitude towards him whenever he gets 'sick'.



Well we don't have the financial resources for a psychiatric opinion on what's going inside my father's mind right now so I guess for the mean time I have to do my own digging on the net and hopefully I'll understand him more. I want to know how and what triggers my father's dementia/senile episodes and what we can help to avoid such.

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049: about the room

Cleaned my room the other day, after several months of secretly convincing myself that it was still habitable. It was not one of them major spring cleaning I admit; it was just that matter of placing books books books and a lot of stuff into their own plastic crates but still it did its job - I can think more clearly when inside my room now.

And right now I'm thinking of getting more of them plastic crates.

Geek-consumerist news:  They toy stores are putting out their star wars figures on sale now; if you've ever had that dream of having one of those classic characters displayed by your pc/workstation, now is the best time to get one. I got my poseable c3po for P200! (P600srp)

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48: about looking and not seeing.

You are looking but not seeing.

You are looking but not seeing. You're in this familiar place again, where you're always chasing but never catching.

You've been here before; everyone's come and gone this place where you find yourself standing still, while people around you move by move fast move on.

You squint your eyes; you move back move closer angle your neck stretch your feet stoop down lie on the grass look up. But you're still not seeing the picture.

This feels like episode 6 of your three season tv show and no matter how you try to fit your puzzle pieces you will never see the whole story. You are your favorite side character with that one witty line and you will never see the light of the series finale.

You just feel it. Either it's just your positivity or there's something really beautiful out there, wonderfully amazingly within your reach but still you're missing it.

Like a bad bad dream of suddenly waking up to the happy voices of people on the street and you know they're witnessing something great and you rush out of your room and you suddenly realize you've only got Barney hands and you can't even grab the door knob. The voices outside slowly die down, people start going back to their homes and you're left there inside your room still trying to get hold of that darn knob.

You hang inches above the beach feeling the warm wind smelling the ocean hearing the waves but your dangling feet never touching the sand.

You struggle. Boy you struggle hard, everyday. And you are getting tired of all these. Chasing stories. Catching pictures.

Maybe the time you stop running is the time you really feel the wind coming to you.

46: about secret chapters

Maybe this is that secret chapter, that part in one's life that no one talks about; the dark sad secret episode in life that we all try to forget. Either that, or maybe i am just one of the very few unlucky ones that go through this.

I believe my father is slowly going senile.

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45: about the fried laptop, fireworks and the upcoming trip.

So. The laptop's fried itself to its premature death several days ago (yes take note that of the use of the word 'itself' suggesting that i am not in any way responsible for it). Perhaps it's a sign that I really should start doing the real things I should be doing when i'm out of the office.

 In other news, I went out with friends last Saturday and watched the local pyromusical show. It was great, marvelous, spectacular. It was something that you will still appreciate even without any loud music on. All the time I was watching, I cant help but imagine how cool it would've been if I was out there somewhere minding things and staring blankly at the sky like I always do, and suddenly the sky lights up and holds its performance. No music, unanticipated. That would've been breathtaking.

 And now. About the upcoming trip. I am excited, no doubt about it. I'm just a bit frustrated with myself for not finding the time to learn even the simplest sentences in their language. Walk walk walk walk walk I will.

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44: about the punk the moustache and my EQ

Last night M and I bought these at a bargain price. I told M that these will fit nicely with the vintage car/pen holder on the table of one our editing suites. Or maybe I'll place them above one of those thick frames on the wall. But now I'm starting to get fond of these two guys.

Heey anyone seen my EQ?

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43: about the sad perspective and giants.

Yesterday I had a conversation with the mother about the father.

I learned that my father has been making these little comments about us never ever going to make it better in life.
The exact words were "Hindi na tayo makakaahon."  Those were big words pertaining to our overall status as a family.  The funny thing here is honestly I consider us way better off than most families, from where we are -  we have cable tv, internet, an air conditioned room, a car, our own house - all these things that place us somewhere in the middle class group. We do not have outstanding debts, all of us have insurance, we get to buy medicines, vitamins, books, cds; we all have our mobile phones.

About the father. We've always argued that he is a glass-half-empty person: Show him or tell him something and he'll notice the negative side of it right away.  Show him a photo of a nice nipa hut and he'll tell you snakes can come inside it anytime. Show him a photo of a bike you're planning to buy and he'll tell you a lot of people die from bicycles. A balloon can cause fires. puppies = rabies.

But to have that perspective about where we are in life right now, I think that crushes a part of me a bit. That sort of makes my effort to establish our family financially  all these years not enough. I know, I might be pushing these thoughts a bit too much but I can't help it. Suddenly everything was weighed and I feel that I've fallen short of his expectations.

excuse me while I go to outer space a bit. -> aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah -> falls back to earth. ok i'm fine now. I had to let that out.

Sigh. Life is short. Make it count.


===


Anyone saw the night giant last night? Don't mind the passing skysplitter; that's a night sky patrol. I don't know where he bought his serenitea at that hour.

The giant was awesome! It was sad though.

42: about the 4am syndrome

For the past week I haven't been sleeping earlier than 4am. Blame it on the body clock. or yes work. or George Martin. I am basically surviving this work week on the premise that most (if not all) of my presentations got booked in the late afternoons until wee hours.

Honestly, I want to run run run again. Not because I want to lose whatever it is I gained last December but I'm badly missing the palpitations not induced by coffee. I miss sitting under the trees, feeling the morning breeze, staring at swaying leaves, morning sunrays passing through waving trees, watching people around Ayala rush to work. chipmunks.

beep random thought beep

I really admire people who've been through a lot and still maintain a cheerful disposition.

I think I'm going to drag M to the local museum on Saturday. I hope it's open on weekends.

Spell coherence.

Promise I'll share a better story on my next post.

Oh wait I remembered something. Haha when I got home earlier I managed to sneak in and surprise our dog. I think I literally saw him jump. Sorry Tadi.


Self pooortrait! Not really. poof! (mung bean disappears)

41: about being the dishwasher.

Happy new year everyone.

Wait I've got something to tell you, my dear reader. If you washed the dishes after New Year's eve, let me tell you something:

You. are. soooo. coool.


I mean it. You are soo cool. Perhaps a lot of people hurried upstairs to chat with friends or upload the night's celebration on twitter or facebook; or slept right away, but not you: you chose to wash the dishes. That is so cool my friend.

If not, hey wait, it's still cool; but make it one of the top items on your list for this year: to learn a household chore.

Because because that is what separates the real men and women from the boys and girls. We can be equal on all aspects - tech, pop culture, science. We can all learn that. But what boys and girls do not choose to do is them household chores.

Ohoho don't give me that "we have a househelper that gets paid for that" excuse. No sir, no ma'am. I'm not talking about you doing it all the time; I'm talking about you choosing to learn and do it once in a while.

Because it's not simple.

It is not the same as washing the car or cleaning your room. It is complicated.  You need to learn the difference between scouring pads and sponges. Why dishwasing pastes and liquids and bars exists. You need to learn the ways to wash the dishes and NOT waste water. There is a system; there are rules.

And it's therapeutic. The whole act of getting your hands dirty. The sight of heaps of dirty plates. Then the process of wiping them off, then the soap suds, then rinsing, then arranging.

Now it's time to get your fingers all curly and prune like, and not through hours of swimming but through prolonged washing of the dishes.

There is no try. Do it.


I know I shouldnt be blogging while a bit tipsy but I still do it anyway. Hoho.