Thursday, December 23, 2010

Pandora's Box

Something I wrote last February in Facebook, in an attempt to channel my disapproval of one of my college blockmate's constant display of arrogance and cockiness and an elitist behavior towards our other classmates. Said classmate is known for his constant attempts to look, sound, and seem better: speak fluently and sound great and expect to see him mimicking you; do things in your signature style and expect him to copy you: see :sentence and paragraph structure, word preference, and over-all style in writing, among other things - common signs of insecurity and lack of creative individuality. I guess what spurred me to write this was his attitude towards our other classmates, more than my annoyance at his constant attempts to mimic my writing style, an acquaintance's accent, and just about every respectable superior/friend's view in life. He tries to make it look like the job's not done well if he doesn't do it. Sure, I can live with that. What I won't let slip is his constant degrading remarks and statements towards our classmates. See? I'm infuriated to the point of writing in circles. Bah. Anyway, I guess he's improved the past few months. I guess I just have to see if the change is lasting. 


It's unedited.

There is a difference between actually fitting in and trying hard and in vain to fit in. A fine line between genuinely disliking people for who they are and disliking people because you can't be who they are. There is a subtle difference between spite and envy; jealousy and greed; and between trying and becoming. More oft than not, we mix these things up and the fine gray area in between only becomes wider and we end up mistaking more things for what they are not. It's true that some people may seem so great, so charismatic, so compelling that we wish to be like them - and sometimes, when they prove themselves so...good, we wallow in self-pity, and wish to be them. To have their life. To have the soles of our feet cushioned in their shoes. No one is ever immune from having these thoughts. It's a sign of our being normal. It's a sign of our constant and unconscious desire for better things. This is, of course, a good thing, but when we start to lose sight of our selves; when we begin to dwell in our dreams; when we begin to forget of what's important, it's time to snap out of it. To snap out of our illusions and delusions. Nothing will ever happen if we keep dreaming. Nothing good will ever come out from just thinking of things. If we forget to act in the pursuit of these dreams, then we might as well abandon our individual desire to live better lives.

We might as well lie in bed all day dreaming we're somewhere else, living someone else's life. Why bother leaving the confines of our room if our mind keeps wandering elsewhere? If we wish ourselves to be the best we can be, then we should be the best we can be. What else is there to do? We can't be the best of ourselves if we only think we're the best. It's something we only achieve once we actively strive for it. However, no matter how fanciful our desires become, no matter how perfect them seem, there is no excuse that exists in the world that will allow us to transgress other people. We can't just shove them away if they stand in the way of our dreams. Sometimes, it is best and prudent to go around obstacles. No one has the right to belittle others regardless of one's standing in life. Sure, we can think of ourselves better than others, but that's no reason to be thinking they aren't capable of things on their own. Sure, we can think of ourselves as the most responsible person in existence, but that doesn't mean other people don't have a sense of responsibility. Sure, we can think that we've given the most of what there is to give, but that's no reason to think that other people are incapable of giving things from their person. Sure, we can think that we've sacrificed chances we can never take back, but that's no reason to think others haven't sacrificed something, too. The list of things can go on, but it all boils down to keeping in mind that we're not an island of our own. We're not a treasure trove of goodness. We are our own pandora's box - each with our own share of faults, but beneath the seemingly innumerable negativities, lies something good in each one. Something worth treasuring. Something worth celebrating the mystery of life we're all paragons of.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010


We all tire in the end,
patience is finite,
waiting can kill,
endurance is the rock,
weathered standing,
to dust returning.

We all tire in the end,
backs can bend,
minds can snap,
wills may break,
vigilance is the vine,
withered in the ascent,
to dust, sent.

We all tire in the end,
dreams make,
dreams break,
dreams make you,
your dreams break,
dreams make you bitter,
dreams break your heart.

We all tire in the end,
life is,
life was,
life shall,
life is chaotic,
life was simple,
life shall end.

We all tire in the end,
joy is fleeting,
resolves dissolve,
perseverance is missing,
verve is a memory.

We all tire in the end,
the end,
            the end,
                        the end is yet to be.

Hark the soul of laughter.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Christmas: I

My shadow's only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
Til then I walk alone

Free MP3 Downloads at

Friday, December 10, 2010


If I found myself in that situation, I'd have done worse. My father's suspected concubine would have found surgery futile to repair her  twice ugly bashed-in face. I may maintain a calm, happy-go-lucky exterior, but the rage and the hate is buried deep. If I were to let this much emotion drive my actions, then I'd have slain someone without remorse, most likely the concubine in question.

Sometimes I think I have the potential of becoming a murderer. In fact, I feel like a psycho now to have put this out in the open, but it helps me exhaust my immediate anger.


Another incoherent post, and it was supposed to be the Christmas season.

Fox: I

"Why are you here?"

The words were barely out of her mouth when a blow struck the side of my face. Why am I here? I wasn't here to be beaten up, that's for sure. Why the fuck am I -

Another blow.

My erratic coughing was the dirge of the tooth that loosed itself then, unable to withstand punishment. I'm sorry.That was the best I could do. I said in my mind while I looked at the lone tooth before me, willing it to understand as it lay in a pool of blood and mucus. My blood and mucus.

"Why are you here?"

 My gaze was jerked upward to meet hers. Piercing. Sensual. Cold. Warm.

"I -"

Another blow. God.I was practically bathing in my blood then. One glance at my torso was enough to tell me how sorry my state was. I wasn't expecting this.

Another blow. I was already numb to the pain. It will all haunt me later. I didn't care.

"Why are you here?"

She had a point. Why am I here? I mused as blow after blow hit me. This wasn't a dream. I wasn't making things up, that much I knew.

Another blow. Stronger. It was strong enough to almost shake me out of my thoughts. Why am I here?

A kick. I toppled over, my head hitting the stone floor. Where was the pain? It felt as if I was viewing my fallen, crumpled form from afar.  Why...

...are you here?"

I realized then I had been grabbed by the collar. Why am I here? I mused as I looked her in the eye, willing myself to fall into their depths.

Why do we smile when we find the answers to our most urgent questions?

She wiped the beginnings of a smirk off my face with a blow. A kick sent me across the floor. Crumpled. Fetal. 

Another kick.

"I want to know who I am." 

 I sounded feeble. Defeated. The dirt, dust, grime, blood, sweat, tears, and mucus only made it all worse. Man it was so simple. I was a fool to have thought of it only now.

"What did you say?"

The coldness was gone, replaced by probing curiosity. Her brows were arched, but they weren't there to mock me. They were real. If only they made up for the lost tooth that lay at her feet.

"I want to know who I am." 

A smile. There was nothing to smile about my state. My bonds found themselves severed and a hand presented itself before me. It helped me get up. I needed help to get up. Pain flowered across my form as my bruises and cuts found the barriers of indifference thrown down. They embraced me. I was utterly ravished. They fed on my mortal pain and did so until they were sated. Until I was a husk.

I fell down on the first attempt. She didn't laugh. The same hand presented itself before me.

"Up you get."

I obliged in silence.

"Follow me."

She was already a few paces ahead before I realized it. I looked at her tall and lithe form as she made her way.

A deep sigh.

I might as well see things through.I told myself as I followed her.

Sometimes we have to jump over alien hurdles and impossible maws.

Sometimes we need to take leaps of faith.

Faith despite the hurts.

Faith despite the pain.


Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Lusternia Artisanals: November success and December WIP

I was pleasantly surprised yesterday when Lusternia's Artisanal and Bardic results for November came out. I wasn't expecting my entry to be ranked as a runner-up! I was thinking of it receiving a merit award(especially since I didn't realize it looked very awkward because I forgot to at least show the silhouette of the other leg), but things turned out great and I'm happy fort it!

Frost cold be failing heart; and frail be fading life; wan warm be trickling blood, wet slick be redcap blade; brass loud be redcap rave; and sated be bloody thirst; wane now shall Blood Hunt be.
This is my take on the infamous redcap, a type of fae which my character, Siam Star-eyes is able to summon in-game. Okay I'm sounding like a geek now. Anyway, I'll be sharing my current work-in-progress, which is my take on the slaugh.

By the way, this is how a Lusternian slaugh looks like:
Clad in flowing violet robes, this slaugh has an aura of arrogance so strong that it is almost palpable, her nose turned high into the air and her derisive gaze sweeping the area. She has a willowy form, and is starkly beautiful, her smooth nose and sparkling lavender eyes contrasting sharply with her callously curved mouth and contemptuous stance. Glittering rings and bracelets adorn her hands and arms, and the cut of her garments and quality of the materials, as well as her rather conceited demeanour, make it readily apparent that this fae is of noble origins. Noble lineage notwithstanding, however, she does not appear virtuous or true in any way, her cruel smile ever present and the slight impression of vindictiveness obvious around her.
A slaugh seems to be unafraid.
She weighs about 130 pounds.
She is loyal to Siam Star-eyes.
A slaugh is holding:
This is how a Lusternian redcap looks like:
Short and stocky, this redcap is immediately recognisable due to its namesake red hat, which upon closer inspection can be seen to be dyed its scarlet colour by constantly flowing blood, kept fresh and liquid by the magic of the creature. Its arms taper down into hands bearing three long fingers, tipped with the long, wicked claws that are its primary weapons. There is none of the usual mischief evident in Fae in this redcap, simply malicious intent shining through his crimson eyes. A constant low sniggering accompanies the clunk of its iron boots, their thickness and apparent solidity seeming incongruous on such a small creature. Nevertheless its movements are unbelievably swift, the heavy boots somehow no obstacle to this strange Fae.
A redcap seems to be unafraid.
He weighs about 100 pounds.
He is loyal to Siam Star-eyes.
A redcap is holding:


Line art:

I still need to fix her face - her lips and nose are off!

I intend to colour it using gradients and airbrushing.

Here's a sample of my noob airbrushing, with a mouse as usual:  

God, those lips are off. I really have to practice a lot.

All of these drawings were done in Paint tool SAI, a program I'm new to. That's one more program to practice using. I hope I finish this before the year ends!


Here's one drawing that's almost two years overdue:

One of the reasons I haven't finished this yet is because I'm afraid. I want this one to look good and I haven't found enough time to work on this. I'm someone who pays too much attention to detail on some days, and I want it to look just right, but doing that with a mouse can be very frustrating. Oh well, maybe I'll do this during the summer.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010


"You have beautiful eyes."

The familiar words waft up to your ears again. A different face. A different place. A different time. A different smile.

"Thank you."

You glance towards the large mirror to the left. You've always loved mirrors, even before people branded you vain. In a time long gone, one where you were ignorant of your strengths, you would place your forehead and your palms spread out on the large mirror on your mother's closet and just embrace the cold. You would get told off for wanting to do that during stormy days. Those were days when large wool towels would be hung in front of the mirror. To ward off the lightning, your relatives used to say. You shrug before heading back down to the living room and curl up on your favorite chair by your favorite spot. In later years, your waking ones, you would realize how you loved the rain and the cold and the symphony of the leaves and raindrops and the crescendo of thunder heralded by lightning. In later years you would learn to embrace the lightning and anticipate the rumble that came soon after it. You vaguely recall how you would clap your hands over your ears and close your eyes and tense up until the thunder came. Fear was weak then, like all other negativities you possess now. Passing. You would resume watching the world through the jalousies, head resting on your folded arms.

A warm touch brings you back to the present, the vision of the young boy shimmering away in your mind's eye. An embrace comes with the final ripple before it all fades. A kiss reminds you of your worth. Your nape a lynch pin saying you are alive. What comes next is an erratic series not unlike the churning storm, and the gentle breeze. Here walled by four planes is the rise and fall of many spectra; the shifting of paradigms, personas, personalities; realities are created, merged, and subsequently destroyed, or made to evolve; the rhythm of the world takes a primal turn in the symphony of surrender and release; all the world fades and the mirror is the only witness. The mirror which you chanced upon in an unguarded moment.

You have beautiful eyes.

"You have beautiful eyes. You take after me."

"Really, mom?"

"Of course, you are my son."

That was a time when smiles where given more freely and more innocently. Nothing was forced. You smiled widely at the woman most familiar to you in the world before glancing back at the mirror.  I have beautiful eyes. The concept was new - you never considered your eyes attractive. They are much too deep. You never understood why two curving lines trailed  from near the bridge of your nose. They were, in your opinion, to blame why your eyes to you seemed baggy.

"Why are you making faces?"

"I'm not making faces, mom. I'm trying to get rid of these lines."


"I dislike them."

"But everybody has them, son."

You glanced at the face of your mother and see, as if for the first time, that her face had lines, too. You smiled. Maybe it wasn't so bad. You stopped wishing them away. You accepted them. Still, you thought it would be better if they were less prominent. Soft fingers brush your face just below your eyes. You have deep-set eyes, just like your father. A light forefinger traces the bridge of your nose. And you got your nose from him, too. You never really understood what those words meant. So what if your eyes were deep-set? You wished those lines away deep down, still.  Nay, you were ignorant of yourself then, just as you are lost in yourself now.

"Now, now, smile!"

You smiled warmly at your mother again. Everything was alright. Everything can wait.

Years weathered the world for five years and a decade or so before you had an inkling of what those things meant. Deep-set, you found out, meant it drew people in. It's like...curving inward. I don't know. Basta. It's deep. Kinda like shielded by your brows? i'm not even sure if I'm describing it correctly. It's deep-set. That's that. Your close friend would tell you. Playing around with classmates and a pair of shades introduced the concept of having a high nose bridge. What did it matter? To you, it seemed only to allow you to wear eyepieces with ease and without having them fall off at the slightest movement. What did it matter then? Why does it matter now?

"I like the contours of your nose."

The familiar words waft up to your ears again. A different face. A different place. A different time. A different smile.

"Thank you."

A finger, showing faintest signs of being careworn, traces familiar routes across your face. The soft and gentle roughness of the back of a palm speaking things, inciting emotions and breathing life into your wishes. You feel the rush of life. You find meaning once more, if only for a brief moment in time. In the space of a heartbeat when two eyes meet and a connection is formed, you find beauty and meaning in the tangled and incoherent mess you have made of the present. Pearls glimmer at the precipice of existence and on the edges of your eyes. Why won't this clarity last? A wan smile unfurls from your chapped lips. The same soft and gentle and rough hands cup your chin, tugging your glance upwards.

"You have  a beautiful smile."

The familiar words waft up to your ears again. A different face. A different place. A different time. A different smile.

"But it seems sad."

"No. Sorrowful."

"Why are you sad?"


Alien words found themselves fit for your sorrow, your insecurities, your thirst. The love that was never there always found reasons to mock you. It found ways to revive your need just when you believed it has shriveled up beyond help. Beyond hope. Beyond love. Funny how life finds ways to catch us unawares. The thought plays itself across your mind.

"Why are you sad?"

Probing curiosity alone could have empowered a repeat of the question. That was your belief. You were beyond compassion. You thought it gave up on you a long time ago. You never gave up on it, and that was the irony. The bluntness and the demand for the naked truth pierced your being. You were never one to think that truth could present itself before you, or that the present could demand the truth out of you. You were guarded. I musn't stand out. That was the dogma you lived by. In the effort to not be an open book, you learned to read people. You saw patterns and they guided you in the same way your premonitions, and your coloured dreams helped you.

Two eyes regarded you closely. Are they genuine? So goes the constant refrain of doubt within you, and yet you feel you must grab this chance. Hope might not present another skein for you. Every chance had to be appraised, the extremes, means, benefits, and hindrances weighed. This was learned the hard way, and you weren't one to set this belief aside now. No. Even when the stakes are this high. Even when the stakes mean that much to you. No. Now more than ever are you called to be critical.


This was the point of no return. You marshalled your entire being and braced yourself.

A deep sigh.

There are times when we find ourselves unable to bind our dearest and sincerest dreams, no matter how hard we try.

"Someone once told me my smile..."


Without warning you began saying things you swore you wouldn't share, surprising even you.





Que sera sera.

You took a deep breath.

"Someone once told me my smile would be a good thing to dream of but..."

And so flowed your confession. Your naked soul. Your very being.

And that was release.


Fiction-truth. Go figure.

Monday, November 29, 2010

Empire State of Mind

Everyone, please meet my good friend, school mate, and 'ate', Ma. Laurice Jamero! She has a very good voice and I first heard her sing when her band, Emanon, sang during the acquaintance party of my sophomore. I've been hooked since then! She's also very intelligent aside from being talented - she's the batch valedictorian and a cum laude graduate from Ateneo's BS Physics program. I hope those who'll read this will take time to listen to her! 


Sunday, November 28, 2010

Dawn Ramble: "Talagang product ka nang public school."/ "You really are a product of a public school."

If this person's life were to turn upside-down, I doubt he'd survive poverty. Right now, my ire is too overwhelming for me to write a coherent post. This comment is an eye-opener. I knew that privileged people tend to look down on the less privileged ones, but this one is just too much. It reeks of arrogance, indifference, and selfishness. The quoted part is in itself enough to not only raise eyebrows but also heat hearts, too. Coming from a public school, I always took pride in the fact that the experiences related to material lack which I went through in high school will not be surpassed by those gone through by students from private schools. Why? Because those things were a taste of the hardships poverty dumps on the shoulders of the poor and the less privileged. It opened me to the realities of the world. Suffice to say that it drastically decreased my being materialistic. It introduced me to the bliss that comes from helping people. Nothing can compare with that good feeling after helping someone out. I am not talking about material help - I'm talking about all forms of help that we can give to our less privileged brothers and sisters.

Before I encountered that post above, I was really uninterested in the terms 'capitalist' and 'capitalism', now it's an entirely different story. The link above will direct you to an article which is ire inducing. I could care less for all the books the author and his supporters have read, and all the articles he's written. I think what matters most when one aims to better the society he lives in is his ability to empathize and provide solutions. There are always exceptions to the rules, especially when the rules are made by humans - imperfect, and as my Economy teacher put it, "self-interested." It is no wonder therefore that Mother Theresa, Ghandi, and a lot of other people, are revered. It takes a lot to transcend over one's wants and reach out to help those in need of help.

We are a nation in need of change. We are a nation of democracy. We are a nation of people with different interests and perspective, we should all then work together instead of bicker with each another to find the middle ground between a lot of extremes. We have no right to belittle others because of their backgrounds. We have no right to act high and mighty because we are in positions of wealth and power. We have no right to drag other people down. We have no right ground others to dust. No. We have no right to claim superiority over others when our own existences are mere fruits of chance. Chance it was that we championed over others during the race to the egg cell. Chance it was that we were born healthy. Chance it was that we have our senses intact. Chance it was that we were born with silver or rusted spoons in our mouths. Everything we possess was at the mercy of Chance at one or many points in time. Sure, others may claim to have bettered their lives through their efforts, but even then, their success was a product of chance. Had one variable been off, who knows how things may have turned out for them?

Chance. That is what people are asking for - better chances. A chance to at least be in control over one crucial variable for success - Education. I myself am against all forms of unessential budget cuts to the education sector, having experienced the many short-comings brought about by corruption and inefficient management within and without the educational system, but I digress. My point here is that in the debate of the merits and demerits of this budget cut, let us all not hit below the belt. Name-callings and labels and prejudice will only get you nowhere nearer towards the best possible middle ground for all.

In a matter that requires critical thinking and analysis, I think we're all doing a bad job, however in the area of passionate teleserye-esque catfights, I think we're winging it. Now more than ever are we in need of minds who think outside the box, failing that, we need those who can and will think analytically.

We need to open and broaden our minds, lest we become trapped in a stalemate: a stalemate with progress.


Sorry folks, I had to let that out. "Talagang product ka nang public school." Seriously. How close-minded can people get?

From my Facebook

Friday, November 26, 2010

Lusternia WIP: Night Fae

Lusternia Artisanal WIP for November. I do hope I finish at least one of them! I'll be trying to color them this time using vectors, something I rarely do. These are just rough sketches - hopefully when I get back to Bohol, I get to make better versions using Photoshop. At least this time, I'll be using vectors, which are easier when using a mouse(Dear Santa, please send this Spiral Princeling a tablet, or at least let his father decide on giving him what he asked for - something he hasn't done for year!).

This might be self-aggrandizing, but, I just love how my scanned letters came out. I do love using good pens! I also love the quality of the scanned image. I'll be asking the same cafe to scan for me in the future! I also hope to get the slaugh's smirk right. The same goes for her eyes. That barghest sketch...I dunno what to make of it.

Monday, November 22, 2010

False Portrait

False Portrait by ~twofacesandaheart on deviantART


I was playing around in DeviantartMURO when I decided to practice. I wanted to make a self-portrait, but I doubt this looks like me. He looks too japanase/korean/chinese? I dunno, but his eyes are a bit too chinky to look like me. Or something. His proportion isn't perfect, either. Ah, well. I got to practice more! On the plus side, I've gotten more comfortable with using a mouse when drawing. I just need to get better at it.

Brain Fart: II

When we stop trying hard, we become sincere.


Another random brain fart, this time, I'm talking about the Pinoy slang 'trying hard',
which is of course different from doing one's best.


Happy New Year to Victor!

Ties and Memories

Should a man bound to leave make more ties?
Shouldn't he make memories instead?
Memories and ties, they seem the same,
Indeed they are, but wholly, not
For memories are memories,
And ties, are ties,
The other is a memento,
The other, a chain,
Mayhap they are sides of the same coin,
Viewed from different times,
One seen from the future,
The other, from the past,
One is a memento,
The other is a chain.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Star-eyes, Jester Crown and a Spiral Prince

At times when loneliness presents his company uncalled for, and brings with him melancholia fair and wistful, I tell myself,

Silent Jester by ~MantraV on deviantART

"At least you're anything but ordinary...

We're All Mad Here by *behindinfinity on deviantART

We then dine and while the time away, under the dome of the sky - day and night and twilight. Our happiness is quiet and subtle, but even then we pay no heed to depression and suffering, late and uninvited, whose knocks, though loud and distracting for a short while, eventually fade into the background. 
And thus wan serenity swathes us once more. 

But dreams fade away, swept off by time and waking.

There are rare times when waking brings with it a single moment of clarity, brought about by a deeper understanding of things - of reality. This is the lesson the present brings - live.

Just live.

And so I will. 


If there's anything Cebu has burned into me, I guess the realization of the magnitude of Solitude's power would be among the most prominent ones. The knowledge alone of the solitude I'll be facing when I get back to my room from a small reunion, a night-out, long walks and long travel, is potent enough to make me dread going 'home' unless I'm tired and utterly spent. At least back home, I had my family to keep me company. We may not always agree on things, and yes, my siblings and I oft get ourselves into arguments, but the thing was that I wasn't alone. In my solitude here in Cebu, I have come to dread the future. The shadow of a future alone scares me. I grew up being surrounded by people. I may not have been the best when it came to expressing myself around my immediate family, but I still felt secure. Being alone makes you feel vulnerable. Helpless. Naked and there for all the world to molest. Devour. It is during times like these I really wish I could go out more with my highschool friends, but sadly our schedules tend to conflict. Or at least do things other than sit and stare in my room. It drains me and renders me uninspired. I end up being unable to draw. Even reading becomes bland. I end up envying those who get to hang out with their friends and classmates - I am literally alone in Talamban because all our other classmates who used to reside here have left. And as for those who reside in Cebu, let's just say their families aren't exactly that open-minded to allow their sons and daughters to go out even during weekends except on official school activities. Sigh.

I should really take to heart what our Economics teacher said last week. It was basically something along the lines of life turning out for the better one day and that we should bide our time, if we must, and endure our frustrations. Pleasure and leisure must, if they can, wait.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010


Earlier today, boredom forced me to go away from USC's immediate vicinity in order to escape the pollution and the heat, and well, boredom itself. I finally got my hair cut and was loath to part with my hair. It has always been this dream of mine to sport long hair at least once in my life. Besides, it suits me more. I immediate went to National Bookstore as soon as I was finished, but I didn't really have anything in mind. My wandering feet took me to the non-fiction section, which I don't normally visit, and I chanced upon a big book on Origami. I hooked even before I read it, and I had to restrain myself from buying it on impulse since a good chunk of my allowance would've been sliced off. I had to be content with just reading it, and I hope it's still there when I get to visit again.

I fell in love with Origamis when I was still an elementary student and I really enjoyed making them during art class and during those saturdays and sundays I get to be alone with myself and our arts and crafts book at home. It was bliss. I'm afraid the passion for it went dormant until earlier today. It's re-emergence brought with it an idea, too: I thought of giving away origamis to friends this Christmas. I think it's sweet, plus the gifts come with a  personal touch,too. This would also be the first time for me to give something that didn't come from my parent's money. I really hope I could push through with this, so you better stay there, Origami book!


Hello, boredom, we meet again.

 I miss Panglao.

I miss this place in South Cebu.

I want to be anywhere but this cafe. I might as well be a mall rat for the afternoon.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Disaster Averted

Thanks to random chance and mindless internet wandering ultd., I have finally found a layout to my liking. This is called Cellar Heat Light. Thank you, Evan Eckard, for allowing the css and htmlically challenged to get such beautiful layouts. I do think that this one serves my OC-ness - just look at those clean lines in perfect harmony with the grunge art! Bliss! For those of you who read my blog, please answer the poll at the bottom of the page - it just takes a single click. Thank you. If any of you have other thoughts, don't hesitate to comment. I'm glad to finally be rid of this nagging thought in my mind.

Disaster averted, indeed.

Sunday, November 14, 2010


Yuki-onna by ~twofacesandaheart on deviantART

So I got bored at the Internet Cafe on a sunday afternoon and decided to play around using DeviantART Muro. This is so relaxing. It looks small, but it's actually a large image - I believe viewing the full image will do it justice. I particularly like how the face turned out. Lord knows I rarely get faces right.


Psyche I: A.B.O.D.

A bag of disappointments, that's what I am.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Silence: I

There was a time when we could talk of things under the sky without a care in the world. We explored the landscape of our respective dreams, and our fears. We never discussed our tears. No. We neither shed or shared them. There was no need, after all. We discussed our hurts, yes, yours more than mine. Your eyes were windows to a  sad soul. Your skin was fair, but your soul weathered storms that bent your mindset. It almost broke your ability to trust. Your voice was soft, but I knew you hardened your heart for quite a while; it was quiet and your opinions agreeable, but I heard the defiance when you spoke. You were young, but I saw how withered you were inside. 

Wednesday, November 10, 2010


My blog's layout is, as of the moment, an aesthetic disaster.

Everything just seems too big.

Experiments are not without risks. Disasters are not without solutions.

OPLAN Blogfix has just started.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

On Timing and Initiative

Dear First,

Lady Gaga sang it best:

You should've made some plans with me,
you knew that I was free.
And now you won't stop calling me;
I'm kinda busy.

Monday, November 8, 2010

The [][][][][]: II

Years, like tides, have swept the world. I am one of the few who remain unchanged. Fewer still are we with good intentions. Of those with intent conflicting ours, seven siblings together, my cousins, kin and foe, are to you well known.


My heart years for its end;my verve fails me.
The well is dry.


Sunday, November 7, 2010


When life doesn't give you lemons, look for oranges. Or apples. Or passion fruit.

I'm back at Cebu again. This time, I have a plan. I really, really, really hope things work out. This time, I'll do more than just wishful thinking. I hope I get to actualize things - that's the only way for me to climb back up and out of this rut I'm in. I want to be more than some eighteen year old reeking idealism and lacking action. I even placed my plan in my blog to serve as a constant reminder when things get bleak. In the long run, I just want to be happy and content. My self pep talk aside, I'm glad that my return to Cebu has been good, what with the company of my highschool batchmates - friends dearest to me. I've spoken with them at length regarding my situation and plans over the past few weeks, and I'm glad that they managed to knock sense and hope into me.

Surprises are twice as exciting when they come unexpected.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Dawn Ramble: Nagging Change

Nagging doesn't get people to do what you want. If anything, all it accomplishes is to have people conclude that your thinking is like clockwork: boring and repetitive. People will inevitably start training themselves to be deaf to you. Over time, the recipient learns to be impervious to you as a whole.

Nagging is rarely effective. It is not a way to get things done. It is destructive for both the nagger and the person getting nagged on. I am prone to flaring up if someone nags me, but I try really hard to hold back. If there's one good thing that has come out of this thrice-cursed act, it's how it lets me exercise patience. Actually, screw that. The one great thing out of nagging is that I get to learn new ways to feign deafness with the slightest hints of defiance and sardonicism. The greatest downside is that it also trickles down the crevices of my acid-tripped mind and heart into the black pools of my ire.

I sometimes fear my potential for rage. It is finite, yes, but there are moments when I find myself holding myself back from doing things which could drag me into something ugly, and it is during these moments when I get a glimpse of the immensity of all the anger, of all the hate, of all the negativity I've kept in check through the years using my winning combination of a happy demeanour interspersed with moodswings and emotional outbursts.

I fear the day I see red, before everything fades to black while I waltz my wrath away.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

The [][][][][] : I

Twilight stars twinkled silver-blue in the mauve sky. I was by the roadside, fornlorn, swathed in the shade of the trees, but there was quiet happiness about me.

I was happy.

Did you see it then, my quiet bliss? I'd like to think you did. That's just how I am. I am not blind to the worst. I look past it.

I see the best.

Years, like tides, have swept the world. I am one of the few who remain unchanged. Fewer still are we with good intentions.  Of those with intent  conflicting ours, seven siblings together, my cousins, kin and foe, are to you well known.


I was supposed to finish yesterday afternoon, 
but I lost my verve when I learned one of my highschool teachers,
Ma'am Neneng, died after fighting against cancer for several months.

Writing the full title would spoil the entire story, I believe, 
so I'm leaving it blank for now. I hope I finish this soon.

To Maam Angelita Barcebal, who died yesterday at 3:15 in the morning, 
may you rest in peace. 
Salamat Ma'am Neneng. 
Daghang salamat sa tanan.

Dawn Ramble: On Pageviews

Over the last 12 hours, 63 people visited this blog and checked several old posts. I hope you don't get the wrong ideas. I'm just confused, and slightly amazed. I didn't post anything yesterday and I certainly didn't share links on my facebook profile, or comment in another blog.

I guess people do stumble into our lives without us knowing.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Star-eyes: Conclusion

This is the final version of Siam Star-eyes which I submitted for October 2010. Sadly, the cap for submissions is only 500kb, so I had to discard quite a few layers and decrease the size of the image.  It is also the cause of this measly resolution. I'll upload the original version once I can, since my connection is unable to let me do so at the moment. 

Good luck, me!
This is image number 15. I had to keep making a few changes to meet the size requirements!

Saturday, October 30, 2010


Relationships are like scripting - one moment they work and the next they refuse to. Thorough examinations might even prove futile - you can see nothing's wrong, and no matter how many times you change the code, it just doesn't work.

Then you scrap everything and start all over again.
Don't think you wasted your time over it, too. 
At least you learned a few more things that can't kill the cat.


Dearest Mudlet, 
I loved you even before I saw you.
I love you, still.
Please make my scripts work.
I even learned Perl and Lua for you.
I have a few hundred more to write,
but at least let me get one set done.

Thursday, October 28, 2010


In place of a hundred words I want to say,
into which I'll breathe life one day,
not now, but I will.

      Kayla, ANTM Cycle 15

By writing this entry, I have stepped further down the road I've long since intended to take, it will be fraught with difficulty - trials and risk of rejection abound, but I'm ready, I guess. I'm just waiting for Old Man Time.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

About Me

It's been around 9 months since I started blogging, and I believe the time is ripe for me to revise what is written in my blog's intertropical information zone, that is, my profile, which I intend to do soon. I'm not planning to fill it out completely like a bio-data or an elementary autograph complete with a dedication. I have never been fond of enumerating every movie or book I've watched. Aside from my inability to recall their titles, it's just that I feel that they're already a part of a mosaic within me, so to speak, and that they're already in place - trying to pry them off would destroy the work. I just think that I've grown a bit. I have never been able to replicate a written piece once I put the pen down. Even if I try to, the new one, though sharing distinct traits with the previous work, would come off differently. My point is that most of the things I've written, especially the teeny, angsty ones have done their part, that is, to find some semblance of harmony out my chaos. I cannot say that I'll stop drawing from that pool to write, but I think there are things I've yet to tap into. All I'm saying is that right now, I feel renewed. I feel as if I've come to reconcile with a few things within me. It's like getting wounded and reacting bitterly at first, but ending up accepting the wound and how it came to be, and just looking forward to its healing.

9 months of experience have proven to me that blogging can be quite fun and meditative. I know that there's more to it that I haven't encountered yet, but I'm taking one nano step at a time. There's no rush because there's no race. I've come to know quite a handful of bloggers and blogs, too, though I believe very few of them know me as I'm oft content as I silent follower. I will never stop learning from them, both in writing and in living and perhaps, dying, and getting reincarnated as a better person constantly. I can only hope that one day, I'd muster enough courage to write with fewer layers and fail safes, and perhaps make my presence known in the blogs I secretly haunt.



And you've just been treated to a shameless plug.
Goodness, I don't think announcing this plan is appropriate, but what the heck.

Que sera, sera.