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Sep. 23rd, 2010


(no subject)

With all the reasons given, she thinks he had fallen out of love. That could be the underlying truth.

It came out of the blue, like a hard storm approaching. She could see it in the distance, getting darker. And she started to take the necessary precautions to withstand the storm. As much as she didn't want to, it came. With bolts of lightning that struck her heart so bad she was left dumbfounded. The aftermath was much worse.

She had been in other storms before, but not quite like this one. Even if she felt the change coming, even if she prepared herself for it, the hit was so hard her life was turned around. The skies did not clear at once. They are hovering still. But she could see rays of light high in the sky, and she's hopeful she will get out of the damage someday.

Respecting one's decision, especially one such as deciding to leave you, is much harder. You try to accept. You try to convince yourself it's for the best. You try to go on but you find yourself tripping, falling, and hoping he would be the one to catch you, but he doesn't.

If you truly love someone, you would do everything to make things work. Yes, there are phases of discomfort and uncertainty. Yes, one would find others more attractive. Yes, there are times when one would rather be selfish. But you work things out. You don't really give up. You communicate. You listen. You open your doors. You share your life with someone who means a whole lot more than just yourself.

If given an opportunity, would he have fought for her? Was she even worth it?

Like I said, love seemed to have lost its way somewhere down the road. That's how I see it. Maybe that's what she needs to think about in order to move on. Maybe she wasn't worth it after all.

Anger brews inside. Like the choppy sea during the storm. She dives down where it is calmer and finds temporary peace. If only she could hold her breath longer.

Sep. 22nd, 2010



I woke up this morning feeling your breath on my arm. The way you usually do when you take a whiff of my scent. I woke up this morning feeling your arms around me, the way you would do when you would hug me in the night. I woke up this morning thinking you were there.

Then the dream faded away fast and I found myself alone. Again.

. . . . .

I had just written a long string of emotional outbursts but I've decided to delete them. Maybe for another time I can write them down.  Because now, just writing out my feelings hurt too.  Just like a wound trying to heal and someone pours salt on it. It hurts.

But then again, it prevents infection. So maybe I should let the salt in.

. . . . .

The empty spaces are choking me.

Help me breathe.

Sep. 19th, 2010


Hole in the Ground

She stopped in the middle of an intersection, an empty meeting of roads in between grassy plains. Lush and lovely were the green blades that swayed in the wind. The sun was high but she did not mind the piercing heat that bit gently on her flesh. She stood there staring at the quietness and, for a while, was lost into an empty void. She breathed again, and the air filled her lungs like new and she took it deep, exhaling slowly each time. She knew not where the roads led, to danger or better pastures, so she stood there, as if waiting.

It took her some time before she turned around. There, a few meters behind from where she stood was a bicycle. It lay limp on the side of the dusty road. Even with scratches and a few dents here and there, it was a good bike. She smiled. She heard laughter. She felt kisses. She remembered the happiness that held so much sentiments. Then she remembered the tears and the pain and she found herself falling limply on the ground, and she sat, staring sadly at the bicycle.

She looked beyond and noticed that the road that she had just came from was better than the roads of that intersection. It was smoother and cleaner and trees filled the sides. Flowers bloomed everywhere and she could see charming houses in the distance. It looked beautiful, and she was haunted by memories and a yearning to go back.

But what would going back mean to her? Comfort? The same old routines? Familiarity? Deep inside she wanted adventure. She wanted to feel reborn. She wanted more. Even if she was already content in living that road where she was looking back at now, even if she was already accepting the life she was living there, the winds of change decided otherwise and called for her. All she ever wanted was to venture and see the sights of the new road beyond. All she ever wanted was for him to be there with her.

But he wasn't coming. He was not going to join her. They were riding that bike together happily but when he saw the crossroads he felt uncertain about it and left. He walked back to the road from where they came. He wasn't ready to go out into the world. Not just yet. And so he left her. Alone. Like a lonely hole in the ground. Newly dug, fresh and disheveled.

As she sat there, she wondered. Had he been here on this meeting of roads before? Did he come here with others on bicycles too? Were the two of them riding the same path as he did with the others or was this ever new to him at all? 

She hoped, at least, that the beautiful road from where they had come from was a new path for him from the start. It was the new road they had ventured together. And it was good. But she wished, and hoped, that he had not been riding with her the same bicycle that he had ridden with others before. She hoped at least that he was not haunted by ghosts of familiarity. She hoped he was not just taking her around in circles all this time.

She forced herself to stand and forced herself to turn around. The crossroads seemed of no interest to her anymore. She felt no excitement. She felt... nothing.

And as the sun started to set, she started walking forward slowly, leaving a trail of sweet sorrowful teardrops on the ground.

Sep. 16th, 2010



Acceptance is the hardest thing to do when you try to convince yourself that, despite not wanting it to happen, it has happened. Change is inevitable, and when you force yourself to push it away, you find yourself all alone. Was it the right choice to make? Yes, no and maybe. The gray areas start to fill up the void. There is no more clear picture. There is just the haze filling up your mind making you see other things in a blur. Your mind and your heart go into a battle and you are torn between what you want and what destiny has in store for you.

Sep. 14th, 2010



The heart beats faster, the nerves feel shattered.
The throat chokes, the lips purse, the eyes close tighter.
The tears have dried out.
Nothing wants to come out.
Not even the screams.
Not anything.

I feel numb.
I feel pain.
I feel as if I'm falling fast
And anticipating the crash.
I feel lost.
Of course, alone.
Dwelling in a dark pit.

I embrace the loneliness with open arms.
In return I get explosions
Of questions and mixed emotions
And lots of rationalizations.
It's getting insane.
It's getting too loud and crowded.
What happened to the quiet darkness?

Sep. 11th, 2010



 There are no rules when it comes to learning the ropes in a relationship. It's like riding a bike - there will be those who will guide you on how to balance yourself and to be aware of the obstacles ahead but only you can be the one to make the bike move.  You need to push your feet to start it.  You cannot depend on others to keep pushing your back.  If you see problems coming near, you need to be the one to squeeze on the brakes. If others squeeze the brakes for you, it'll be chaos.  You can see where your going and if you rely on others to see the view for you, it's a whole different perspective and more often than not, if you let others decide where to drive you most probably they don't see the view the same way you do.


I think it's about time to really open your eyes and see the real path of where your bike is taking you. Are you just going around in circles or have you both really "gone places"?

Think about it.

Mar. 26th, 2010


Preparing for the Worst

I've had a thing ever since my mom passed away in 1993. That thing is wanting to be with the people I love as much as possible. I don't expect anyone to really understand this unless they've experienced a loss.  I also fear that I could regret some things if I didn't spend time with the people I love, and that would crush my heart even more.

But because of this, I think I've lacked self-growth. Or maybe I just think I do. I can't see the bigger picture outside myself as much as I'd want to, for there are things that I might be pushing aside, too. At the bottleneck of it all, I need to be preparing myself for the worst.

Big winds of change are coming up and they are coming out of nowhere. I need to push myself to the edge of survival for all aspects that surround my life and my future. Approaching 30 is also a factor. Most of us who get to this age come across a wide variety of what-ifs and questions towards self-worth. Looking back at all that I've gone through, done and achieved, I still find the need for self-promotion, and I've come to think that maybe I'm not ready as I thought I would be.

I guess I'm not used to being left behind. I've surrounded myself with people all my life that it's going to be a very hard path to walk on alone. I've been making other people happy that I think I forgot all about myself. And the hurtful part of it is that, it seems as if they have disregarded that little fact, or maybe they never knew at all. Sad, isn't it?

Past few days, I've felt hurt, angry, and disappointed. I find no solace in talking to anyone anymore, because most of them just don't seem to understand. The battle I face now is within me, and I hope I can stand strong.

Dec. 29th, 2009

"I have a fever! And the only prescripti

Punching Pillows

I did that the other day. Punched pillows 'til the breath in them were out. They lay limp on the floor not sure of what would be coming at them next. Another blow perhaps or has she finally gone tired, they wondered. I was indeed tired and I had given up.

I lay down on the floor and curled up like a little baby and cried until I fell asleep. It was a good release, those punches to the ground. It saved me from intense and uncontrollable body shaking just like a leaf would on a windy day.

The year will finally end in a few days and I cannot wait until my 10 years of personal dismay is finally over. I calculated. It was the 10th year. In 1999, that's when everything seemed to fall apart. I tried to take control of things but the clouds that loomed over just became darker and darker at each threshold of each new bad luck that came my way. I had lost my dragon, my inner power and strength during those times, and I know it had fallen asleep somewhere inside me. But a new dawn will rise and my dragon will be free again from a cursed sleeping spell. All I have to do is stir and wake it up the right way. But how? I'll figure something out.

The end to my 2009 has been, in simplest terms, awful. In every aspect of this life I live. I don't have tragic situations happen to my family and for an outside point of view I would say I am lucky than many, but this is more about who I am entirely. It's been a downslide for 10 years, and I yearn for those days again when I could do anything and be good at it.

People who surround you make up who you are. They support you, love you, hate you, control you. I've come to realize I have no control over myself at all. I am a people pleaser and used to be happy about it. But once I decided that being a bitch would make me step up a higher pedestal, it didn't. I fell.

I also came to realize that I have the Midas Touch for others but none for myself. Most areas I've involved myself with, they seem to progress, while I began to get left behind. Seems like there has been no improvement to who I am or what I do. And it's saddening just thinking about it. The more I would just want to crawl back to bed and just sleep it all away. But that's just pathetic. I would need more than just a slap in the face to get out of this rut.

So, with the new year coming, I've got some lists in mind on what do to with myself to get back on that high horse and ride with the wind, carefree and happy, instead of shaking like a leaf.

But it felt good to punch those pillows. I would do it again definitely when the need arises. At least nobody but my hands will get hurt in the process.

Nov. 24th, 2009



I haven't written in here (Livejournal) in ages. Exagerrated but yeah... that's how it feels like. There was a time when I just stopped writing and focused on photography instead and a few months later I'd read somewhere over the net that blogging was dead.

I was ahead of the trend. Again. Oh well.

But i've missed this place. I miss the faceless and long texts of updates about people. I miss how I would want to write something, feeling obliged to write something, then I'd feel stumped and frustrated for having writer's block but then by some motivational thought I'd be whirring away on the keyboard. I kinda missed that obligation.

I missed that freedom for writing.

I missed myself.

So now here I am, typing effortlessly because I have let my mind speak out freely. Just jibber-jabber that jumbles up iinto a ball of nonsense that eventually does make a lot of sense. It's like therapy that everyone can read about. No fear there. I ain't shelling important information or ridiculous racial statements that would have me on a pedestal for receiving hate mails. I'm just... letting out... the thoughts.

But I think it's more of the feelings that I am letting out. Having them kept shut inside won't ever do you good.

I'm getting bored with facebook and twitter. Although twitter's an easy read and I can sift through people easily. still I'm totally bored. Multiply I will have to get back to with new photos. And livejournal... well... since I can integrate my LJ posts into all 3 (FB, Twitter & Multiply), this is what I missed the most. Problem is, I have to prepare myself for more pages to read and more things to write about. After all, this is a public journal.

Here I am, sipping on rum on the rocks and smoking a cig which I should really quit on, I am slowly getting that dizzy feeling that could lull me to sleep. But my head is shouting. About what? The hell should I know?! It's all tangled up in there that I can't make out most of it.

On a more sane note, I've been writing a story for the past few months. A collection of my dreams that I've sewn together into a story plot. Since there aren't any dream recorders, this is the best that I can do to make them visually stimulating to others.

Which reminds me, maybe I should get back to that and stop my babbling here. And maybe I'm getting tipsy a wee bit too fast than expected.


Jul. 13th, 2009


Before I lose the touch

 It's been a while, a long while, since I've posted anything worth posting on LJ.  And I admit I've missed this place.  This little hole that used to be my favorite spot to dig in.  Digging deeper into my own self, into the minds and lives of others... 

Now that I'm back, oh what to write?  *taps fingers on keyboard*  If you can visual my thoughts, it's a blend of smoke colors and a wave of colorful emotions tinted with the faintest hues of the rainbow.  Basically cluttered is what my state of mind is right now.  And when it's cluttered, all I want to do is sit back and relax.

But I can't do that yet.  Too much to do.  So the more cluttered it gets.  The good side of pushing myself to work in a state like this helps me organize myself.  At least, despite the feeling of anxiety, I am getting things done.  I made my 2nd mug of iced coffee to wake me up, splashed my face with water, got up from the chair and stretched and I now i'll be rejuvenated for a while longer.  

Writing again on LJ feels hard.  I've been so used to twittering and giving short shout outs that to express something in a long stretch is like a chore.  I miss my writer's mode.

My mind has gone blank again.  Will go back to my work first, then maybe I can think of something up later... or tomorrow... or in a couple of weeks.

Apr. 22nd, 2009


(no subject)

 Follow Me

Down the rabbit hole

and into the world of



(so many forms of communication. So tiring.  but still it's all fun.)

Apr. 12th, 2009


The Red Dawn

My little sister woke me up right before 6 in the morning and was pointing to the red sun.  We rushed to the rooftop and I managed to get a couple of photos just before the redness disappeared into the bluish dawn.  I hardly don't ever see the sunrise anymore.  I've been seeing too much of the moon.  My sleeping patterns are on a haywire.  It was a good change to see this red dawn.  I hope now that a good change will happen to me.  I hope for a big one.

Apr. 2nd, 2009



I have this friend who has gotten herself into a shit hole.  And in that shit hole lives an asshole.  An A-hole who owns no promises and inherits no manners.  He treats her just like how he treats his living quarters.  Like dirt.  And in that dirty shit hole he will never want to leave, for he has grown accustomed to that kind of lifestyle and will never ever change.  Even if he says he will, we all know he won't.

My friend doesn't know it because she has been blinded.  There are facts that circle around her that have contributed to the brainwashing of an innocent which has all been strategically created by the evil mastermind.  Planning the next path to tunnel in around her sweet little heart.  Let's call him the Mole.  And I feel that it is too late to save my friend from the obvious, and knowing how stubborn she is now, all my advices have crumbled into dust.  Let's call my friend Miss Mule.

Miss Mule has always been the smart and strong one.  The one I have perceived to have a good head on her shoulders.  Very open-minded and free spirited, she reminded me of a fox.  The Red Fox that danced where the wind would take her.  I grew to know her as someone with a lot of potential for the many years that she will live her life to its fullest.  I was proud of her accomplishments and cared for her like my own sister.  I knew her as being independent. But now the Needy Mr. Mole has shattered all that.

I don't know anything about the Mole.  I've only heard the hurtful things he has done to Miss Mule.  I dare try not too judge the Mole but one cannot help it especially after learning how disrespectful he is towards her.  Of course, people can always turn the stories around, and she might be doing just that when she asks for my advice, but I have been through 3 former relationships wherein I can say that each of them was also a part-Mole.  I have experienced what it was like to be disrespected, to be betrayed on, to be treated like a fool, to realize that all your efforts were being taken for granted, to be shoved away, and to be blinded by a supposed love.

I have been through all that.

Three times.

And as I said earlier, Miss Mule just blew the dusts of my advices into the wind.

But they broke up.  And Miss Mule encountered her first love, the White Tiger.  They had known each other longer but destiny did not let them be together before.  Maybe this time around they will.  So they went out and got to know one another again, and for a brief moment, Miss Mule was turning into the Red Fox once more.  I need not say more about how love blossoms, but from my point of view it certainly was looking like that.  They were always happy together, and it made me feel that love does conquer all.

As with all good things that happen too fast, they must come to an end.  Hopefully not a forever end.

The Mole entered the scene again.  He had mustered all his efforts to come out of his hole and into the sunlight, in hopes of finding the one he lost, the mule.  This showed how much he could change for her, and she realized how she still felt for him.  But a mole will always be a mole, a dirty sneaky mole.  And a mule will always be a mule, stubborn as hell.  She's stubborn because she thinks he will change for the better.  She thinks that she's always in the wrong whenever they fight.  She sacrifices just so that he can be happy.  She absorbs all of his maltreatment.  She's a blinded mule pulled on a leash.

The White Tiger was left alone and because he loved her so much, he let her go.  But his doors will always be open for her.

Can you feel how frustrated I am with my friend!?  How else can I show her the light?!

Mar. 29th, 2009


Random Thought: World's End.

The years 2010 and 2012 have been marked by predictions that the end of the world will come.  I find this exciting.  


I think I'd prefer that we all go at an instant death rather than being chased and hunted by zombies.  The thought of hiding and running for your life and images of those flesh-eaters just scares the shit out of me.

I'd rather watch the meteor coming towards us and imagine what a spectacular celestial show it would look like from the view of the moon. 

Mar. 17th, 2009


The Two Heroes

(True story)

My father was born during the aftermath of WWII.  Korea had been split into two.  His father had gone missing, and rumors had it that his father was one of those kidnapped by the North.  His mother had to swim across a great river towards a portion of South Korea alongside hundreds of refugees during a nasty winter.  With one child under her arm and another on her back, and a pile load of clothes and other basic necessities on top of her head, she plopped dead tired upon reaching the other side of the riverbank.  If it were not for a concerned stranger who started a small fire beside her, I would most probably not be alive today.


Homeless and wandering, they journeyed through the land in search of help and shelter.  The only place willing to take them in was an orphanage.  Since nothing good was ever available without a price during that time, they agreed to the rules of the house.  The owners would take all of them in if my grandmother agreed to work for them and that her children be up for adoption if the time came.  Of course she agreed.  Who would want to have their child grow up in that gloomy place at a time like that?  of course she would agree.  Food and water would be provided.  No need of payment.  As long as they had a roof over their head, and food in their tummy, they would not complain.  


But who knew that such orphanage owners could be so mean.  I only thought that existed in Annie.


The best food was always given to the owners and their favorite adopted daughter.  The best clothes they kept. The gifts from the American G.I.'s they sold away.  The children had only one pair of rubber shoes during the winter.  The children would at times go to sleep hungry.  Other kids would desperately sneak into the kitchen to steal food.  Punishment was always available.  And yet the hardships never really seemed to dampen the spirits of the children.  There was always a light shining above them.  The ended war was not as hard of an impact to them as to those who were used to a good lifestyle.  Everything was a new adventure.  It was always an excellent day whenever the Americans treated them.


One day, while the G.I.'s invited the children of the orphanage out for an American picnic, they were given  hot dogs, hot and red.  The children just looked down on their plates and on each other with unsure looks.  They had never seen a hot dog before.  Now what in the world did these soldiers do with it?  After a few moments of silence, some kids grabbed the hot dogs, stood up, and placed it in between his legs and began to shake it, making it bob up and down.  Roars of laughter spread out as both the kids and the soldiers realized what these naughty boys were thinking.  It was an ice breaker.  Then my father remembered the soldiers giving out bananas. They've never seen a banana.  And when a soldier gestured with his hands that one was to eat it,  a boy took a big bite and made a nasty face.  He told the other boys that he could not understand these Americans.  They had a really bad taste in food.  That thing was bitter!  Just then, a giggling soldier walked up and began to peel the banana and took a bite off.  The kids all went "aaaaah."


Little boys will always be the curious wanderers.  Walking off their path from school, poking at the ground with sticks and throwing stones at bulls.  My father and his three buddies had a usual hangout by a creek.  They would hunt frogs and snails, worms and what else.  One time they found a bone sticking out of the bank.  They yanked and yanked until a chunk full side of that bank collapsed and dozens of skeletons came pouring out.  That creek was left with the echoing screams of my father and his friends.


But one event will never leave my father's memory.  They had found another place to go to after school. Someone had found an old, intact defected rocket bomb on the ground.  Not an unusual site during that time. They would play around it, on top of it, hitting it with rocks or laying on it.  But one particular day, my father was sick and did not go out to play.  And that was the day that that bomb exploded.  It has killed all of his friends.  


Then the time came when one must open a new door for a new beginning.  About four years after they left their home and came to the orphanage, my father and his sister were being sent away again.  They had both been adopted by the same American couple.  Being the obedient son and the eldest child, he did not go against it.  He understood why it had to be done.  So there they were, leaving their mother behind and on a plane bound for Michigan where they soon found themselves in a new world, in an alien place, and with not another Korean person in sight for another handful of years.


Growing up was fairly easy for the both of them.  It was sort of weird to know that they were the only Oriental kids in their school, but that did not cripple their spirits.   In no time, they were already in College.  My aunt marries after a few years, and my dad has joined the Peace Corps.  2 Years in Leyte, Philippines he spent teaching Mathematics to the rural provincial areas, but decided to go back to the US after that.  In all those years of living as an American, my father had always wondered why his mother gave them up for adoption.  He was hurt inside. And needed to understand why.


So after 25 years since he left his mother and his home country, he went back.  He went straight to the same orphanage, walked through the same hallway, on towards the same kitchen where his mother always worked in and saw her.


My grandmother was washing the dishes, her back towards the door.  My father just stood there without saying a word.  And as if some kind of magic whispered in my grandmothers ear, she turned around slowly and said his name.


Nak Jin.


Tears rolled down both their eyes.  And after 25 years, they hugged for the first time. 


Whenever my father would tell me these stories, about what crazy things they did as kids or the painful scars left behind, he was still proud to have experienced them all.   He met my Filipina mother during a construction exhibition in New York.  Fell in love, and had me in Manila.  Around 3 years after that, my father sends for his mother in South Korea, and for the first time I meet her.  My Omani.

Mar. 8th, 2009



It's 3 o'clock in this blasted hot Sunday afternoon and as I take a big gulp of iced coffee, I just need to say that I am so glad not to be driving outside in my non-tinted 12 year old Civic Honda that traps in the heat and turns it into a sauna.  The sticky sweaty atmosphere outside even as the winds blow them off for a few moments of relief doesn't really ignite me to do anything but just lounge about in the house which eventually leaves me to think more than I just should.

Thoughts can be the devil in all of us.  The naughty little voices that whisper sweet temptations in your ear.  "Be lazy.  Eat more.  Drink.  Smoke.  Porn."   ... Not today bub!  

Today, I work.  I work because I need to make money.  Money that even as a child I disliked so much.  If I remember how my mind worked when I was 10, I think I thought of money as the biggest mistake that was ever invented.

After moving out of our showroom in the business district, I have been my own staff.  Doing everything from designing to payroll.  From management to cash flow.  From boss to banker.  From friend to doctor.

It's been a depressing couple of months honestly.  Depressing in the case that you know how low your financial situation is and the fact that big time buyers can't even be ethical enough to pay you when they should leaves a huge gape in an already wounded heart.  My heart has been crying for my workers.  Knowing how much dependent they are on money to support their families.  How they feel more of the economic crisis than they would ever want their children to experience.  How happy times are now shrouded by the gloomy clouds, leaving them with a stagnant face.

Everybody's eating the remains of the toll.  Digesting the dust that is kicked in to our faces.  But, as Pinoy as we'll all ever be, we still manage to smile even in harsh times.  And that I am thankful for.

The heat isn't really helping my mind right now.  

I think I'll take another bath to cool off.

Mar. 2nd, 2009


The Happy Weight

I've been reading health articles online for a while now.  Being a reader on a daily basis of Yahoo!'s Healthy Living on their SHINE site , I found today's article really refreshing.  It reminds us that we no longer need to follow the Must-Be-Thin rule which is what our subliminal consciousness for women who think are fat.  This is no longer relevant to how we live our lives today.  A decade ago and more, we chubby girls were so self-conscious and envious of the models on the runway.  Speaking as one, there have been silent wishes and yet unfulfilled visits to the gym that have left me to experiment on various ways to "slim down".  Eating less has really helped, and yet I've been sleep deprived for months now.  So that still labels me as unhealthy.

Stress is another big factor that contributes to unhealthiness.  Even as I try to lift myself up to smile at anything, deep inside I find myself crying and feeling lost and alone.  Sometimes I feel as if I've never come out of that teenage stage of knowing and understanding who you are.  Other times I don't really give a damn.

Babbling on, I have made my own little discoveries throughout the years on how to be and feel happy about myself.  Small realizations that have blossomed into a huge aura of pleasantness.  The simple ways a girl can make herself beautiful inside and out no matter what strategy that would be, has become an important boost for self-esteem.  Acceptance of who you are and what you look like is definitely hard, but slowly most of us reach it.  Slowly we get to overcome our fears and the battles within ourselves.  Slowly but surely we become happier.

Quoting the writer's own words from that article, "Love your body with acceptance, embracing every stage and weight of your body, recognizing that your real worth has nothing to do with a number on a scale."   Fantastic.

If you want to read more, go HERE.

Now I wonder when they will write about the proper ways  to care for your hair... because so far, I've made a little discovery that does not give importance to the kind of shampoo that you buy.  Interested? Let me know.

Jan. 21st, 2009


The Flight of Figwit!


Let me tell you how I came across this name.  Yes, it IS a name.

I had been watching and listening again (gad knows how many times I've watched this) to the cast commentary of The Lord of the Rings:  The Fellowship of the Ring (extended version) while surfing the net about my favorite book and movie.  It's been a year or two since I last visited The One Ring and just going through the links, clicking here and clicking there when a particular photo featuring the Council of Elrond caught my attention.  One of the Rivendell elves looked familiar.  Wasn't that the elf who was escorting Arwen into the forest, preparing to leave for Valinor?  Why yes it is!  Then I saw the question in the caption:  Is this Figwit?

Who?  Excited with a new research, I dug in some more.

(Quoted from FigwitLives!)
Figwit is an elf who was first sighted in the Council of Elrond. He has dark hair. He has no audible speaking lines in the Fellowship.
He is, in a word, gorgeous.
Or another, stunning.
Or another, enigmatic.
Or another, hypnotic.
Or another, stupendous.
Or another, captivating.

This Figwit character had its own fan base, collector's action figure, and a spot on Wikipedia.  Turns out, this name wasn't in Tolkien's books, and only came out in the 1st and 3rd LoTR movies.  The actor was cute, and I was so surprised and caught off guard that I started laughing so hard when I realized who this guy was!.  Can you guess who this is?

(watch the video)

And here he is, without long hair, without gayish-elvish make up, and with a stubbled jaw...

Bret McKenzie!!!

Grabe, I couldn't stop laughing talaga.  I really DID NOT expect that.  He is so cute.

Anyway, I know this post is sooo geekoid and those who know what Flight of the Conchords is and is familiar with LotR will be the only ones who can understand what I've been babbling so far.  So I'll leave it to that nalang.  I'm just sharing my smiles.

Jan. 19th, 2009


Story Telling

I find it rare to meet people who actually love reading stories.  I find more who would rather just watch the movie adaptations.  I seldom come across those who feel the need to venture out and hunt for new writings and new authors or those in search of a good read.  But I know more who just ride the band wagon of what is the best seller on the bookstore's shelf.  

There was a time when I wrote down my stories that had their own lives in my dreams.  Night after night those dreams continued, and as a 9 year old at that time, I was already deep in the  dreaming rather than the reality.  And while growing up tends to make ones childish heart less magical  thus leaving our feet to land on the ground, we are left looking up to the sky.  Searching for freedom and flight.

It has always been my dream to publish my own book someday.  But posting it online will be good enough for now.  It's not perfect, but it's good to be able to let others read and criticize to help me make myself better at writing.

Jan. 1st, 2009


What is to come.

    So here we are at the edge of the beginning of a new year.  What will it bring for each and everyone of us?

   About two hours before midnight, the whole southern area of Metro Manila was inching their way into the midnight hour by blasting their individual fireworks, and as midnight struck, I could see and hear from the rooftop of our house the explosions of colors and light as everyone welcomed in 2009.

  Just 30 minutes after 12, it began to get quiet.  The fireworks have all died out.  In previous years, the fireworks display would have lasted a good hour and a half.  Looks like the economy has also affected peoples splurging for firecrackers.  The people had already gone inside their homes for their noche buenas by 12:30 this year.  My own family and I enjoyed a no-firework-celebration but was deafened by the screaming and shouting of my hyper little brother and sisters and the relatives.  5 cans of Virgin cola can surely give you a sugar rush.  "Is there E in this thing?" I jokingly said while looking at the can.  Laughter.

  That's what I love the most.  Laughter.  It is my key to keep life happy, despite whatever problems one may have.  The simplest joy that you can find out of anything will keep you well, healthy and sane.  After looking back at the year that had just ended, I realized that it was a year that I can sum up on as The Year Of Complaints.  My own personal complaints.  And I am so looking forward to 2009 as my time to rise up from the bottom.  The time to make lots of goals come true and more hard decisions to face.  Life will always be a pendulum and you can't always stay stuck in your high.  Besides, I'm turning 29 this year, and reaching 30 isn't really a deadline.  It most likely will be another awakening for me for a lot of things.

   I'm sitting here, typing away, a little tipsy and a little tired.  I've had 2 beers and a glass of wine.  Silence has made my thoughts more active and I can't wait to spend another time with close friends later in the evening for our annual dinner party celebration.  For some thought-distraction and good food to make my tummy happy and making my brain concentrate more on what to digest rather than what to ponder about.

   So this is what I would wish for everyone for 2009, the simple joys of laughter.

Happy New Year everybody!

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