Monday, January 31, 2011

Eleven Days Later

The considerable personal charm(check) and flexibility(check) that characterizes people born on this day suggests that they have the potential to become well-rounded personalities(maaaybe). Once they can build a sense of self-worth(this one's hard to build) and find a direction(boy, don't I feel so lost right now) and sense of balance(again, something difficult to attain), people born on January 20 can display surprisingly intense powers of concentration (yep, I'm 20% clairvoyant, 20% prophetic dreamer, 20% premonition beacon, 20% empath-not necessarily in that order, but yes, sometimes my screws get too lose and those things kick in, though not necessarily at once) and commitment(commitment? please. I'm ever-ready - over-eager, even. Too eager that it's past what's prudent.) that not only assure success(someties, lady luck sides with me) but also win them the lasting admiration and respect of others(talk about the things I crave for).
People born on this day have a genuine compassion(no, my compassion does not border sainthood and martyrdom) and love for people(well, I do enjoy the company of friends and like-minded individuals), and will go to extraordinary lengths(yes, I have masochistic spells) to help them. They are typically supportive of the underdog(of course I am, I have this teeny, tiiiiny bit of persecution complex) but when they are thrown into the role of leader(this happened in high school - I was elected as the student president because the other two who ran - the batch valedictorian and the long-time fail batch representative weren't ideal choices because a.)valedictorian would become too busy and risk losing the spot and b.)fail batch rep is a, well, fail rep, so I, being the not-so-neutral choice, won.  Fun fact: I didn't win in our batch because I had this reputation of being a sloth. I won in the rest of the batches/year levels because of my campaigning powarz. Over the course of my senior year my batch mates, bless them, confessed their doubts and plans to read:prevent me from failing. I was hurt a bit, yes, but was glad of the confession, still, because they admit to having had their doubts proven wrong by my deeds as the president. They said they weren't expecting that I was capable of being that responsible - even my teachers said so.) they can come across as dictatorial.(guilty) It is important for them to carefully consider their approach to leadership, given ...that their attitude toward the authority of others tends to be light-hearted(guilty - who wouldn't be? those in authority need to relax) rather than respectful.

Although they appear tough(people have told me I seem snobbish and maldito at first), the respect of others is extremely important, sometimes too important to them(hence, my advocay of the: all my pride is all I have belief). They need to learn to trust their own judgments more as they are usually right(something I need to relearn), Fortunately, around the age of thirty (what?! that's...11 years away!)there is often a turning point which heightens their sense of self-worth and emphasizes the need for working with their gut instinct.
Any carreer that involves dealing withthe public will attract these people(true, that), as they genuinely care for the well-being of others(and my self, of course!). They can also achieve much in medical and scientific fields(is this the secret reason why I chose to study applied physics?!), and their ability to communicate well means that they make great teachers(uhm, no, please. I don't want to be a teacher because that involves me going back to school!), counselors and advisors(yes, I tell my friends off a lot) and entrepreneurs(I need to learn how to be one). On the other hand, they also have latent creative abilities(psh, I'm just OC), and careers that put these to good use, such as writing(in particular science fiction)(no comment for now), music(singing hates me and I need to get re-acquainted with the organ) and the media, may also appeal.
People born on this day may go through periods of recurring poor health(...). On the whole their optimistic, flexible approach always helps them through but if they can learn to pay attention to warning signs they can ensure that they don't succumb to poor health in the first place. Regular health checks are important, as is an immune-boosting diet(ohhh, I've always wanted to start a diet! keyword: start) rich in fiber, whole grains and vegetables, and a regular exercise routine(alright, alright, I will start jogging on weekends this weekend). They may also find that alternative therapies such as aromatherapy, hypnotherapy and homeopathy (I still want my telekinesis+telepathy)offer them a sense of well-being and calm(several orders of these, please). Wearing amethyst jewelry or placing an amethyst crystal under their pillow (no one wants to know what's really under my pillow)will also help calm their emotions(they're talking me over...oh wait) and reduce stress(yes, please!).
 The life path of people born on this day(that would be eleven days ago, now) is to build up a sense of self-worth(/wrist) essential to their growth(yes, I want to grow three more inches...growee do not fail me). Once they feel confident enough to progress, their destiny is to create harmony in the worly by showing everyone a way forward(so, am I the Obi-wan to an Anakin somewhere?!).
The above is basically a rough summary of myself, my many eccentricities aside.
Late birthday post is late, but, ah, well: Belated Happy New Year to me! 

Watercolor Challenge: Week II: Lusternia Artisanal Entry for January

Deadflowers - 1/31/2011

























I just finished this earlier, but I started work on this last weekend. I still have to finish one other work I started last week,too! This is my entry for Lusternia's Artisanal contest for January. I painted my own take on the Mighty Ravenwood of the Flowering Dead this time. I forgot to save the caption I made for the contest, and I hope it wins something so I could get that caption back!

I hope this piece showed a bit of improvement. Naturescapes are hard.


Oh, and thank goodness I found an internet shop who scans for the reasonable price of 10.00php.

Lost

Right now I feel so lost, so uninspired, so fucked up that I don't know what to do.
I think I'm losing it. I'm beginning to crumble under the pressure of every little thing.
I feel so worried. I feel so insecure. 
And I don't even know why because everything's a tangled incoherence.
I need an outlet. I need to reassess. I need to assert.
I want to just let everything go.
To start anew, but I've become too afraid for that.
I've become to afraid to risk things. I've become afraid of the leap.
I've become too unsure. 
After all this time I've failed to let go of my past dilemma:

art or science?
advertising arts or applied physics? 

Even when the chance to choose has presented itself before me, I shy away.
I am too hesitant it's damn annoying.
I'm torn because I don't know what outcome my choice will birth.
I'm torn because I'm afraid of the paradigm shift.
I'm annoyed because I keep factoring in the reaction of those around me 
when I make my choice.
I'm annoyed because people don't have faith in my persistence.
They think this is a passing whim.
It's not. It's something I finally found for myself.
I'm not bad at what I do, but it's not exactly my calling either.
I read yesterday that people can be just that:

people can be good at things, but the said things are not necessarily their calling

I'm fucking scared because I don't want to grow up 
resenting this moment in my life because I was too hesitant.
I don't want to look back at this time in the future and resent not following a dream.
I don't want to be a failed dreamer.
Then again, what is it to truly fulfill a dream?
I badly need someone with a strong sense of direction to put some sense into me.

I don't want to be a failure.

I want to muster the courage to take the leap.

At the end of every day for the past few days, I still wonder:
When did I become so worried about the future?

No to Mining in Palawan




















            Ang Palawan ay yaman ng Pilipinas.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

I Write Like...

I was browsing through Sir Joel McVie's blog, The McVie Show, when I came across his I Like " I Write Like" entry.

I decided to try it out myself and yielded the following results:



I write like
H. P. Lovecraft
I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!
 

Glass, my post which has been read and commented the most, appeared to had a lot of similarities with H.P. Lovecraft's style. I blame Neil Gaiman for this, given that I have yet to read a work by Lovecraft himself. Gaiman has always claimed Lovecraft to be one of his greatest influences, so yeah, I'm blaming him. I am happy because I consider Glass to be my best work so far as it's the most honest entry I've written - I literally bared my soul for anyone who cared to read - and the fact that it was similar but not wholly alike with Lovecraft, and in turn, Gaiman's style is something big for me. It's what how I've wanted to write after being exposed to Gaiman. It's a path towards my own style. This Dawn Ramble apparently has similarities with Lovecraft's style. I still have to figure that out.



I write like
Ursula K. Le Guin
I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

Apparently, Catharsis: I has similarities with Ursula K. Le Guin's style. I admit, her name only instills very vague memories, so I had to turn to Wikipedia for help. I know I've encountered her works at Fully Booked, but I'm guilty of not opening them. I'm not that much of a fan of science fiction, and ironically, Miss Le Guin is one, as well as Lovecraft. Pandora's Box also yielded the same result.



I write like
Arthur Clarke
I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

Catharsis: II, a continuation of Catharsis: I, has similarities with Arthur Clarke. Again, I had to look him up on Wikipedia. Don't I feel so ignorant? This makes three science fiction writers. I blame my choice of words for all of them!



I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

Fox: I, an unfinished work, had similarities with David Foster Wallace, who didn't write science fiction. Thank goodness for the change, which I attribute to the way I stripped down the narrative. It's more blunt compared to the Glass and Catharsis, which is natural, given that I wrote this when I got fed up with the many false trappings I had to endure then, but I digress.



I write like
Cory Doctorow
I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

Silence: I, another unfinished work which I wrote when a good friend decided to give me the cold shoulder for the foreseeable future because her boyfriend asked her to, had similarities with Cory Doctorow's style, and the reason is yet a mystery to me. Maybe it was because I was talking of Harry Potter?!

The list could go on, but I'd like to stop here. What about you?

Who do you write like?

Watercolor Challenge: Week I

Eight days ago, I came face to face with another disappointment: a chance presented to me , one which I was banking on, slipped past my grasp. To make up for what has become a bleak post-birthday flop, I went on an eating, a book window shopping, and an art materials resupplying spree. There is something gratifying when we spend and obtain the things we want, and this is felt strongest when we are at our lows. In a strange way, they serve to reinforce our sense of self-worth, no matter how transient. When we face upheaval, we turn to the things which, at that point in our lives, may seem slivers of hope, but I digress. 

Yes. Die over-analysis. Die.

As a student away from home, I constantly face the challenge of budgeting my allowance. I don't always triumph, but I've learned a few things here and there. Back then I had to let go of that need, to make way for the wants I have been suppressing for a few months. 

And so, after over a decade, give or take a few years, I am now reunited with watercolors.

















                                     Abstract - 1/21/2011
Not too bad for a first, given that I was only given lessons during the summer of 2000.

 
                                                 Panglao Twilight - 1/22/2011
I did this at Panglao, since I was home for the weekend. We celebrated my and my sister's birthdays together since her birthday is just a day after mine.

I intend to do at least one watercolor painting every week, that way I'll have something to look forward to and I get to hone my skills in the process. I still have to uploaded a third painting I did over the week, but I'd have to get it scanned/shot first. 

Ciao.

Bored Art

Boring Fridays are boring.

So I played around on Photoshop to hone my non-existent photo-manipulating skills.
















This is my attempt to do something similar to the music video of Linkin Park's Waiting for the End.

Good mornight.

I need to find a high-resolution photo of my self for my next attempt.

Brain Fart: III

True love is like science fiction - it can sound both possible and impossible at the same time.
 ---
Boring Fridays are like peanuts to farts. At least for my mind.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Catharsis: II


***
Raindrops rippled patterns upon transient pools all around me, while veins of liquid diamonds flowered upon any and all panes and planes - brief flowerbeds of metal, wood, and glass embracing existence while they can.
The sun will shine, but not soon. 
Not now.

My steps were light, and my heart, calm. The world was grey all around. In a strange way, my rhythm, though deviant, wove in harmony with my grey surround. I was not untroubled, rather, I was aware of what loomed ahead but I did not despair. Purpose was my companion then, and completed what was a triad of myself, my wavering shadow below, and purpose looming above.


***

Stone-faced guards greeted me mechanically as I entered the gates of the Institution, the manner without feeling. They reminded me of clockworks. Were they merely gyres within the system before the eyes of the Institution? What does that make of me? An errant breeze blew past, breaking the monotony of the rain, and spirited the thought away as it died.

I like long walks either alone or with a group, but I find greater peace of mind during strolls alone under the moon and the stars and in rides homeward or nowhere bound. I love walking, but I chose not to then. I was in need of haste and could not afford to tarry. My cloak of calm wavered during the ride towards my intended stage. It frayed itself when I arrived.


***
Have you ever experienced having to look your weaknesses in the eye? Have you ever been surrounded by gargantuan monsters of your insecurity? Have you ever had your patience and your control strained past breaking point? Have you felt the outbreak of emotions too raw to put to words?

I have.

They all convene and conspire at your weakest - they are your final trials on the journey towards admitting you were wrong. They serve to plant the most potent seeds of doubt during that one moment when you muster the courage to let go of pride and ask for redemption.

For forgiveness.

For a second chance.

They are the harbingers of the final and greatest dark night of your soul - the blackest test that can wholly make or break you.


***


All around me was a black void. The darkness was at rest, but its silent threat of utterly devouring me did not go unnoticed. This was my stage. The pitch was young  - the light went out just moments ago, but the memory tethered on the edge of forgetfulness. I can vaguely make out the curtain at arm's reach before me. 

As before, I was rehearsing lines as scenes repeated like a perverse creed in my mind, when something shifted. 

It came from within me.

A hand took off my mask from without. It was dark, but I saw him. I saw me. 

He smiled.

Rather, I smiled. It was the strangest thing.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

He was fingering the mask. I noticed it shone feebly in the dark, but its light only served to dim the hand holding it, as well as the fingers that caressed it. I smirked. So the light is as false as the source.

"Well, what?"

I repeated my answer. No, my question. Whichever.

"You know what I mean."

My self was toying with me. What else is new?

"I suppose you know I prefer answers when I ask for them. Are you not weary of having to interpret signs? Do you not tire of reading actions as words? I am spent. I do not wish to see phantoms anymore. I want truth, for a change."

"You talk much."

My own eyes bore into mine. You always get bloody wordy, they told me.

I could not fight the urge to explain myself. Again.

"You know all too well how that is my way of making up for my lack of physical...expression."

Smirks directed at you can be very infuriating when it comes from yourself.

"This won't get us anywhere."

I closed my eyes and took a calming breath. It would be time soon.

I opened my eyes to find myself too close. Dangerously close.

Twin hearts pounded as one. The memory of sound came rushing back to me.

"If you want the truth, don't you think it's only fair to give it, too, when the moment calls for it?"

There is a perverse mirth that can be gleaned when our selves lecture us.

"Damn you."

I managed a grin as I continued.

"But I guess you're right."

Oft is it prudent to listen to ourselves.

"Good. Sometimes I tire of having to remind you of the obvious."

"Shut up."

"I doubt you still have need of this."

He stretched out his right arm and let go of the mask. In a pocket of space sundered from the world and from time, we watched its slow fall. For all its intricacies and vain designs, it was very brittle. It shattered into countless shards, which glimmered and tore the fabric of the void that swathed me. The curtain before me fell, the darkness churned and twisted and slowly extinguished itself. The stage failed and utterly crumbled as surely as my phantoms would have. All but I was lost to oblivion.

"This is much better, don't you think?"

So I could make a face that sardonic, I thought as I watched him.

"I guess 'thank you's' are in order?"

His grin got wider. Sometimes, I hated and loved myself at the same time

"Tch. Still proud, I see."

I glowered.

I lost my composure briefly as he grabbed my shoulders and appraised me.

"I guess that pride's a part of being you. Of being us. But keep that in check always."

And he moved in as if to kiss me with a suddenness that surprised me.

Now that was awkward.

"Live."

He said that when he got close and breathed into me as he faded away.

We never kissed - that would've been too narcissistic. But two halves of my self were reconciled then.


***


"Well, Christopher?"

I blinked.

"Ma'am?"

"I haven't seen you in a while but I will accept you into my class, provided that you must never be absent again. Reasons will not be accepted, regardless of their validity. Note that I did not ask you your reasons for being gone too long - I tire of long discussions which may potentially involve excuses."

She said this with an all-too-knowing ghost of a smile.

"Will you abide by this condition?"

"Of course, Ma'am. Thank you, really."

"That's settled, then. See you in class."


***


The grey of the world was fading as the sunbeams that pierced the clouds waxed. Patterns rippled on the pools all around me. A breeze brushed my face softly. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. I opened them and saw my smile reflected on a puddle close by.

"Live."

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Mother Nature Strikes Back

It rained so hard at Cebu today that a few places were flooded. It's a sad thing, really - it reminds me of my childhood at Caloocan where I hated floods. They are extremely bad for someone with obsessive compulsive tendencies. I wasn't here for it, though, and thank God for that. I arrived at Cebu from Bohol at one o'clock in the afternoon from Bohol, where I spent my weekend at Panglao, but that's another story.

I'm about to share to you photos which I enjoyed in a perverse way.

Because the University of San Carlos' Administrators deemed it prudent to shave trees off the hillside.

Yes, there is a mini dump site at the back of the Science Building.
Mini dump site up-close. They started dumping here last semester.
This part of the walkway is actually 1 meter++ off the actual ground level.



















The Convertible Gymnasium. Turns into a Giant-Ass swimming pool on Tuesdays and rainy days.

This is where we tell our bigwig 'administrators',"You were warned. You did not listen." I do hope they regret ignoring the protest against the ongoing quarry of the hillside for new infrastructure, which was participated in  by Sociology students(taking majors and minors) and the Sociology Major's organization and a few Sociology professors last semester.

*Photo credits goes to Reb's Nice Move Facebook Album.

Obligatory mad scientist HA. HA. HAHAHAHAHAHA. HA. HA. HAHAHAHAHAHA. 

Man, this perverse mirth pleases me so. I can only imagine the magnitude of the Admin's jaw drops.

P.S.

Dear Mother Nature,

Please keep reminding the Admin of their poor choice. We enjoyed your spectacle today, even if students had to brave flood waters, too. It's a small sacrifice for the great magnitude of learning out of this experience that everyone hopefully gleaned. I do hope we human beings get your message.

Sincerely,

Kaloy.

P.P.S.

Please do not end the world on 2012.

P.P.P.S.

No, really. I'm serious. 

Please.  

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Sinulog


So, I was not able to buy that Sinulog shirt, but hey, I enjoyed the impromptu mall-ratting with my good friend-since-grade-2, Chile! We go to the same school but we rarely get to hang out because of the proverbial busy schedule, so we got to catch up to each other last Sunday while dining and, yes, braving the thick, festive crowd of people. It was fun despite this, however, and we met a few other friends there, too.

Fun fact: it was my first time to try out Starbucks! Here's to my Nescafe canned-coffee breaks from Julie's Bakeshop! Well, at least I got to try something new for 2011.

Sinulog 2011 was a blast!

*I'd like to thank our sponsor, The Banana Booth, Ayala Center Cebu for the 95.00PHP picture.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Catharsis: I


I escaped a nightmare at four in the morning. 

The third one last night. 

The fifth within the last two days.

I have not had them for years, and even then I rarely had them. Their return is quite unnerving. Long have my dreams foretold of things to come, albeit subtly. Do they forbode of things to come now?

I pondered this while under the hypnotic patterns of the deck above.

Lightning flashed and the first peal of thunder surprised me. It snapped me out of my deadpan stare.

I was quite shaken and so shifted my position.

So I could move.

I became conscious of the drum beats of my heart pounding in my ears and so instinctively took calming breaths. 

So I could breathe.

I shifted again and curled up in a fetal position while still enchanted by the riddle of the dream. The details were repetitive patterns that played before my mind's eye. Were they taunting me? I am not sure. The symphony of the rain rose and fell, interweaving  itself into the endless refrain of questions that plagued me. It was a melodious attrition, and the haunting chords soon lulled me to sleep.



***


My awakening was as abrupt in the light of the morning as it was in the dark dawn just hours earlier. My last attempt at sleep was dreamless, but I may have as well stayed awake in that ponderous vigil. I was worn on the inside. My previous failures, too, took their toll. Tiredness lined my face and shaded my eyes. I was just as worn on the outside.

The morning was wan and the feeble light that filtered through my window birthed feebler shadows that died at their progenitor's slightest disturbance. With great effort, I managed to cast my sloth aside, stand up, and beheld the grey room before me.
Not a thing has changed.

What came next was a series of rituals necessary to keep one's self groomed and presentable to the discriminating taste of society. They all went smoothly, the result of daily rehearsals repeated over the spell of eighteen long years, a span which soon will encounter another milestone.

Whilst the last of these rites were performed, the persistent drizzle present from my waking time frenzied and turned into a nearly torrential shower. I, however, ignored this, having discovered the disappearance of my identification card.

A minute long search lengthened to five, and soon caused the upheaval of evidences of my indolence. The quest was futile and yielded nothing but a greater disarray. One look at my timepiece and I knew I had to go if I were to pursue the plan.

I braved the downpour and headed off towards the Institution. The churning clouds caught my attention, their angry swirls dampening my spirit. I shrugged in defiance of the sky and went on.
Que sera sera.

There was a store along the way which I stopped at with the intent of re-supplying my things. I wanted to make a good impression. Late, but still a good impression. Perhaps it would increase the plan's success. Today was a day for the plan.


I was rehearsing lines and visualizing possible scenarios in my head as I made ready for payment, when to my wandering hands and spying eyes should appear the very identification card that thought it prudent to lose itself just earlier. I marveled at the paradox, and thought it a good sign. Did I manage a smile? I did.


Maybe there are times when we need to look just one more time. Just do one more attempt despite all the previous mishaps. Maybe.

No longer shall I have to face the heartless guards at the gate.

I continued the walk towards the Institute with a new spring to my steps.


***

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Tula

Dalawang tulang nakalimutan,
alaala ng limang taong nagdaan,
dating yaman ng musmos kong isip,
ngayo'y hiya'y pilit winawaglit.
 
 ***

PAGSAMO

hindi man ako ang pangarap

sana ako pa rin ay tanggap
ng puso mong sintigas ng bato
at manhid sa ipinaparamdam ko
ngunit manhid ka nga bang talaga?
o sadyang nagbingibingian sa pusong ito'y sinta
hanggang kaibigan nga lang ba?
napakasakit na ng nadarama
sa tuwing banggit mo ang pangalan niya
ako ba'y may pag-asa pa?
kung sakaling may pagtingin
sana ito'y iyong sabihin
subalit kung sigaw ng puso mo ay siya
wala na akong magagawa pa
saksi ang langit ako'y iyong pinaglaban
ngunit handa rin akong ikay pakawalan
kung sa kanya liligaya ang puso mo
handang magparaya ang puso ko
at sa oras na siya'y lumisan
handa pa rin akong maging iyong sandalan
sanay pakaingatan ang ating pagkakaibigan
'pagkat tanging ito ang pinanghahawakan
magpakatotoo ka na
at di na umabot pa
sa punto ng ako'y magmahal ng iba
hindi pa ang lahat huli
'pagkat ang apoy, ang liyab ng ating pag-ibig ay mananatili




OO


oo, aaminin ko dati manhid ako

at ngayon lang magpakatotoo
hindi mo lang alam ika'y pinapangarap
ika'y lubos kong tinatanggap
dati nagbulag-bulagan, dati nagbingibingian
dahil takot mawalan ng kaibigan
patawad, dahil sa 'kiy masakit ang dinaanan
oo, dati'y banggit ko ang pangalan niya
ngunit 'yun ay para magselos ka
pero tila ika'y nawalan ng pag-asa
ako man sa 'yoy may pagtingin
nahihiya lang akong sabihin
saksi ang langit ako'y iyong pinaglaban
pero handa ka ring ako'y pakawalan
di tunay na pagkasiya ang nadama
dahil hinahanap ang puso mong nagparaya
at nang ako'y kanyang nilisan
ika'y naging aking sandalan
ang ating pagkakaibigan ating iniingatan
ito rin ay aking pinanghahawakan
ako ba'y huli na?
di sana malaman mong mahal kita
sana ako'y di pa huli
at ang apoy ng pag-ibig ay nagliyab muli

***
Goodness, I can't believe I wrote this in my sophomore year. It takes me back. One of my closest friends found it in her stash of old school things. That's not really a surprise given the fact that I wrote this for her and one other friend. Yes. I was the proverbial bridge. Well, a bridge of sorts. I was actually pretty happy with this poem back then. I'm not as happy with it now. I guess I've become more picky? 
Still, this poem means a lot more than I could ever write of. 

I guess treasures from the past surface to remind us of the things that matter when we need reminding most. I'll keep the reminder to myself, but it's pretty easy to figure out.

Ciao.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

January Dilemma

January in Cebu calls for a Sinulog Dilemma! I plan to fully enjoy it this year, given that I have always retreated to my shell during the last two years.


Now, I'm sorely tempted to buy a Sinulog shirt!






























Check their page out here.


Brainstorming time!


Oh man, now I have to save.


Mhhhrrr.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

King of Anything



Here's another youtube cover by 'te Lau, Sarah Bareilles' King of Anything. She's really talented! A couple of friends and I commented on her Facebook status, ""who cares if you disagree? you are not me." :D," which is a line from the song and told her to make a cover. Imagine our surprise when she did make a cover and uploaded it five hours later. 

Here's her previous cover, Empire State of Mind.

Ciao.


P.S.


Happy New Year!