Monday, October 26, 2009

ca. 1995

To smoke a couple of cigarettes a day
To make my day a little bit more worthwhile
To chase those tints of blues away
To use them as paint for my vintage car
To smile at some girl who deserves some damn thing
To read my niece children's books
To read to myself thoughts of, well, about anything
To make life a little bit more worthwhile

To love, to give, to run
To see, to think, to talk
To make, to find
To live, ah, to live.

Life sometimes doesn't quite make sense, does it?
With all its frailties and illogical patterns
Life is a series of infinite possibilities
With only finite time to exist

So what, when, how can this seemingly
Chaotic "life-ology" be any better?
What, when, how can our scientific minds
Produse satisfactory results?
What, when, how can we make such feasible experiments
That in the end our psychoanalytic minds would
Conclude a success! and would thus transmit this information
To our hearts that it too can rest?

Ah, but a fool can only live once
And a mad scientist can never find that secret formula
In the end, we are but a void and then
Nothing can already change

But until then, we have to our disposal
Infinite possibilities of change
Infinite possibilities of enjoying life
To make life a little bit more worthwhile

So let us not waste our precious time
Seeking answers which can never be found
Wanting only those things
That can never be ours

So let's love, let's give, let's run
Let's see together, let's think together
Let's offer each other life as we know it
And after, assure ourselves this is life
And everything in it.
For in the end, fools and wise laugh together
In the end, they both agree

That what we can only do in this world is
To enjoy it and cherish what we have and
Pass it on to whoever wants a piece of it.

(Posting this as promised. I wrote this way back in the 90s. It was the view I took then. I may not agree with some of the things now, but in a lot of ways, I have not departed much from him).

Thursday, October 22, 2009

"Ading, pakihinaan naman yung radyo. A, ano kamo? Di naman naka-on?"

Grabe. Napakinggan ko lang to kanina, na-hook na rin ako.


(excerpts from On The Radio by Regina Spektor)

...This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't

You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath

No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took

And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood

And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again..."

Thursday, October 15, 2009

A comment of a friend to a friend going through the loss of a loved one

...In my life, it has continually comforted me knowing that I am who I am because of all the interactions I've had with many people, especially the ones who I let myself be affected by. In a sense, I am made up of all the people that surround(ed) me. I know my loved ones are alive because I am alive and that my nephews will know them too because I will manifest their being through me, in stories, and that part of me that they have managed to infect. That is how I have known my father (who died when I was two)--- through my kin's stories and their lives. And the same goes with my grandmother (who taught me how to cook her signature adobo)--- my nephews will get to know her as I share with them the part in me that is her.

Your sister is alive in you, if that means anything...

(taken from, December 22, 2008)

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Ever since I don't know when, I have been pro-poor. At an earlier time though, I was religious. But recently, in the act of "coming-full-circle" I began a search in a synthesis of some sort which includes both facets of my life.

How I can describe my state is through a prayer-song I nowadays keep... here it goes.

PS. for the actual song, here's the link (sorry, am having a hard time embedding it); the music is beautiful, it accompanies the lyrics well:


Dinggin Mo Sana
by Ang Grupong Pendong

Dinggin mo sana
Dinggin ang daing
O panginoon ng mga abang sawi
O panginoon ng katarungan

Ang kasakiman
At karahasan
Ang naghahari
Ang pag-asang nahasik
Sa mga puso ay binuhawi

Ang bigay ninyong yaman
Sa aba ay pinagkait
May hapis sa kabila ng kasaganahan
Mga batang laman ng lansangan
Sikmurang walang laman
Habang iba ay bingi sa kabusugan

Dinggin mo sana
Dinggin ang hibik
Ng mga dukha na gutom sa pagibig
At uhaw na uhaw sa katarungan

Dinggin mo sana…
Dinggin ang daing…
Dinggin mo sana.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Short-Term Memory Down The Lane

I had a conversation about two years ago with my former lady-friend of decades past. We sort of went down the memory lane trying to recall what used to be. What it turned out being though was a revelation of some sort. Not only do we remember a totally different series of events (each of us remembering something else), but also that we had the most difficult time bringing those past into life again. It seems that those memories were buried deep, and almost like a defense mechanism of some sort, our alter-egoes somehow are trying to stop the memory-train. And so in the end, we were just laughing at how we seem to be getting old na (hehe), meanwhile understanding that who we are now is asserting its dominance over who we were. And we simply let it be, knowing that we cannot (and should not) disturb the shallow seas.

There are different reasons why we don't remember the past. One reason is like I was illustrating above ---built-up walls. Another reason why we can't remember certain things is that the events simply did not enter our memory banks strong enough to be held intact. The idea of making memories (i.e. memory-consolidation) is that we have to be excited enough and focused at the time for it to be placed into our brain. For example, events such as the 9/11 can be vividly remembered by a lot of us because at that time we were at an alert level high enough for us to make those memories of the time stick (well, of course, in addition to all the endless playback in the news of that plane as it nears the building). On the other hand, there is the phenomenon of not remembering the night when one is so drunk (my apologies for folks who do not drink, hehe). Ethanol can sedate to the point of interfering with memory-consolidation. I believe there is a recent movie made about men not remembering the night before, right?

There may be period in one's life when one wishes not to remember. For me, I find that ever since I came to the US, I've made fewer memories than when I was living back home. In simple terms, I never took my life here as worth remembering. Sad, no? Part of me thinks all those years have gone to waste. But then again, maybe there is a reason why everything is the way it went. Maybe one of the reasons would be my retracing of my footsteps to lead me to understand the fragility and complexity of memories. Maybe another is to come to a choice-decision of going home.

In any case, I am happy for folks who remember much about their lives. They are, truly, living the times. There really is no other way but that. As for me though, well, I've made a clearing for myself and though the grass is still too high for me to see what is out there, I believe I am near the bend where I can finally see the place I for long have wanted to be at... new sweet memories to be made.

Thursday, October 08, 2009

One of the greatest songs in my book.
To all you believers... this song was made for you.
(the scenes make me miss the Phils., hehe.)

Wednesday, October 07, 2009

I really do not know when it all began
The morning mist is greeted by the sun
A morning cup and the quiet view of the block
Set my heart to remember your face

I really do not know when it all began
When I met you, when I started to adore your face
But everytime I see you my eyes open to see
What is ever more clear to me

You are to me what daisies are to bees.

Tuesday, October 06, 2009

...and ever since then, I have had a hard time playing with dolls.

I remember an occasion when I was a kid where I messed up my sister's doll by stuffing its mouth with rice (Hehe! Ooops.) The doll happens to cry when it is hungry and when you feed it with her specialized bottle then she stops crying. Well, it was crying at the time and I couldn't find her bottle so I started feeding her rice instead. Guess she was so much satiated after that she stopped crying.. altogether, meaning forever. (Nakupu tatang, nasira!) Well, by the time you know it, sister finds out, cries like there was no tomorrow, and older folks came and looked at the mess I made...


...For, you see, there is nothing in this world that would satisfy me more than to see her content, happy, alive, full. She has always been the person I care for so deeply. And it will always stay that way. No matter what it takes. Even if it means staying in the farthest pew.

Monday, October 05, 2009

Two clips from Sesame Street (saw it with my nephew today). I think the first one is from episode 4826 and the second one is from 3765. Hehe. So funny. The first Sesame Street I watched was episode 6 and here I am watching it again with my nephew but only 3000+ episodes later.