i have a new blog. one that i'll hopefully update. i'm saying goodbye to this one.

message me at ice.wolf@gmail.com for the new URL. thanks!

link me up. i beg you.

santa claus, santa kuh-lost?

december is here and christmas is already supposed to loom merrily up on our heads like mistletoes which suck the venom out of sexual harassment cases. should i be worried that i feel nothing chilly and festive? do i make sure that i'm not scrooge's direct reincarnation?

i dunno. maybe it has got something to do with wallets being as barren as the sahara. just the other day, my sister told me that she's contemplating on not giving her doctor associates anything for christmas. well, she also told me that last year but the next thing i knew, she was busy wrapping gifts like a north pole elf. now, i don't even see her doing the holiday shopping in divisoria and, forced by convenience, in the malls.

carollers now seem to be nowhere in sight unlike before when as early as october, these pesky children (and i say that affectionately) were singing their tonsils out and were making rounds in the subdivision. maybe it really isn't because of the financial burden? heck, if i was down and out, i would have inconvenienced my neighbors with my singing just to nick a few bucks.

if it isn't because of the hollow piggy bank, doesn't that make it more sad?

holiday mush and a justification

8pm. i was seated on one nook of the vast quadrangle grounds. the chilly winds were doing pirouettes around anybody it came into contact with. i looked on as a couple were tangled in a loose yet intimate embrace as they watched a ball game. i sighed.

i don't know what really happened but one realization suddenly hit me, face-first. life isn't unfair. i checked myself and went back on what i uttered. life isn't unfair. yeah, that's what i said.

it was crazy. it came out of nowhere, seemingly at least. a lot of times in my life i've just used it like a pair of cozy socks that give comfort but now, as if in a stupor, i sincerely believe it. hey, it's christmas and it's that time of the year that makes you assess a few aspects of your life. my show of voyeurism just brought that all in a silver platter.

like a locally produced telenovela, i had a surge of flashbacks. i was always in a hurry. i waited and waited and waited and when it didn't come, i pretended that it was already there. it was such a pathetic lie that i told myself and the thing that makes it heinous is that i believed it.

i don't need to conform to anyone. i don't need to be someone other than myself just so i can fish that person. if i force myself into someone who doesn't take me for who i really am then that would be the greater tragedy. oh, someone is out there who can bear with all my crappiness and maybe, just maybe, that person can also tolerate these spontaneous realizations of mine.

well, he should.

acknowledgements aren't exclusive to books

trudging by in life, i used to think that i knew everything about friendship. sometimes, it really does take some whipping and cudgeling before i make good sense out of something i always put up on a pedestal.

people disappoint, i disappoint people. expectations are set up, expectations are quashed. some principles and ideologies collide, people collide. meanings of certain social tags clamor to be redefined, i act on it.

amidst this dark yet enlightening realization, i felt i should give credit where credit is due. i'm breaking a rule in this journal. i'll be mentioning the names of people in my life who spelled to me what a friendship should be.

to my bestfriends, thank you for being in my life. beyond my overdramatic penchant for loneliness, i've never felt alone knowing that all of you are just by my side...

lester: thank you for being the twin brother i never had. thank you for being just as crazy and as anti-social that we're two people living in a unique world we've made ourselves. thank you for always having faith in me. thank you for waiting for me when others would have just left comfortably. thank you

dennis: thank you for not deserting me come what may. thank you for the patience. thank you for bearing with my attitude all this time. thank you for telling me when i'm not right. thank you for the sincerity in wanting to correct me. thank you for the longs talks on the phone where we rant about and find humor in our lives.

fedison: thank you for the warmth you give me when i feel lost. thank you for worrying about how you can make things better for me when i'm stuck in a rut. thank you for going with me to places i could never walk through alone. thank you for patronizing my craziness with your own naughtiness.

junn: thank you for showing me that a person could be selfless for his friends. thank you for teaching me there are people who think of others first over themselves. thank you for finding your way into my life because friends like you are rare. thank you for being someone i can trust my life with.

arvin: thank you for sharing with me the small joys we get out of mundane things. thank you for the "good reads" and the "good viewings". thank you for being as organized as you are that you've made me aspire to be the same. thank you for leading when all of us suddenly break into song. thank you for the overnights in your house.

marydel: thank you for being the sister i've always wanted to have. thank you for being together with me as we fear life and the hold-uppers in cubao. thank you for being stranded together with me. thank you for not dwelling on the things i can't do. thank you for filling up for my shortcomings. thank you for being a few inches taller than me.

don't you just love the light at the end of the tunnel? cheers to these people who can deal with me with smiles on their faces. thanks to them, i still believe in a frienship that is true down to the very last letter.

no jack, no beans... just plain stalking

i swear, friendster is turning me into a stalker. well, i can't really blame a website for what i do... ok, ok. i've become a stalker and i've been using friendster as my efficient tool for some time now. when i say "for some time now", i mean "october 2003---for some time now". i've come clean and yanked the cat out of the bag.

just to be clear: i'm not the type who chases after "celebs" (and if i was, i wouldn't admit to it). i'm not the type who floods someone else's inbox with fanatical messages of love which shouldn't have been professed. i'm not the mold for robin williams' character in "one-hour photo".

those having been said, i'm thinking to myself that the idea of me stalking is a caricature more than being a raw truth. it might pass off to others as an alibi, but i declare that i just sniff around other people's profiles because i want to know how they are doing. you can't get too concerned about friends, right? just agree.

i almost went ballistic when friendster offered this new feature that allowed users to track the people who viewed their profiles. chastity belt for the curiousity-aroused indeed! good thing my techie instincts whispered to me that there was probably a way to turn the unwanted tracking off. i deactivated it before one could say "super sleuth". imagine the shame i would have if the handful of people i'm "concerned with" attach a name and a face to their frequent visitor! note that the shame would have been brought on by the the knowledge they'd have of me checking on them and not because of feeling the immorality in the act. let's be crystal on that.

i have this habit of reading through the entire pile of testimonials for a person. the profile made by the user tells who someone is but the collected "eulogies for the living", as i would like to call testimonies, tell what kind of a "who" someone is. it's the anecdotes and the reminiscing in them that makes it like a journal brimming with the barest essentials.

and sometimes i still wonder why i'm orgasmically entertained by "pinoy big brother"? geesh.

now you ask, who are the people i "stalk"?

when a person catches my interest, i shift gears into "nerd mode" and do research as i know it best. i browse through the profile, taking mental imprints of the information. i browse to the "heart" of the page, the testimonials. i browse through the person's "friends list" because, really, the people you hang out with somehow say something about who you are. i put the stress on "somehow". after these, i usually earn a smug face because research pays well. the next time i encounter the person in question, i'd be armed with rehearsed questions and scenarios that, more often than not, actually work!

the people who've become a good part of my life, i never forget. i dunno. it's the sentimental guy in me, i guess. people change, their lives go on with and/or without me, they rope in people who take my place in their lives, their indifference waves its hands amiably at me... sometimes i do it because i need that shot of "lonely".

wow. i reached the end of this entry then the mood languishes because of a few stabs of some memories.

i remember that i have letters to write.

bottled monologues - series 12

ancient one,

with you, i'm the stalker who is lorded over by the clock.

there really is no getting over you, huh? one mention of your name, as ironically generic as it is as special to me, pumps me with that same abandon that i felt when we were still young. my heart takes control of everything then it becomes me being all about you.

the years that rolled on taught me that i cannot erase something i've etched in earnestly. time has taught me that your name will always be on that list of people who mattered, whether they knew it or not. whether you ever knew it or not.

one look at the queue of television crap you still watch, forced a smile. things seem just like before but not quite. not quite.

you say you're the police, i say i'm the nazi. you know what i'm yammering about.

me

bottled monologues - series 13

silent canine,

i come as the stalker medicated on lethal doses of "what ifs".

i'm reluctant to say that i'm banking on hopes around you but maybe i am. it scares me.

it's an abyss with you and i've been there too many times. i'm not afraid of what i do not know. i'm just fearful that this will be like the other times before. i'm damn tired of this routine. i'm fed up with being left with an empty shell.

seeing you makes me into that little kid again but reality is harsh and greedy. i always wake up before the part where you stop being just a dream.

don't be just a dream. i need something i can hold in my hands. someone.

me

unstable kind of happy

"there are two tragedies of life. one is to lose your heart's desire and the other one, to gain it."
--- george bernard shaw

the past days i've been depressed. if ever there was a time i wore rose-colored spectacles, the recent times certainly mutated them into ray bans. now, it's almost magical how my temperament has changed because of a few moments that made me feel this soft feeling inside. it's very much like how an ice cream sundae melts in the innards.

i'm as giddy as a race horse now. my nerves get weak whenever i think of what transpired this early evening. i guess it's also good to live in the moment and not fuss unnecessarily over what the future holds. yeah?

hmm... is it really a tragedy? maybe it is. in the good three-fourths of my life, it's all been about the inability. i pray that in this episode, i get to taste the different brand of "devastation".

give me my hear's desire. give me tragedy.

bottled monologues - series 11

you,

i wonder if you notice. notice that each time we talk, i memorize every inch of your face. notice every imperfection, every curve, every wrinkle, every part of you that gives a form to the person who drugs me with a sensation i can't get enough of.

i wonder if you sense. sense that whenever i look into your eyes, i get drowned in the illusion that only you and i make the world go 'round. sense that i'm not just after who you are but also the things that you are not. sense that despite the nicotine aroma, the scent of your body permeates into me.

i wonder if you feel. feel that whenever my fingers touch your skin, it takes every amount of courage i have to do so. feel that every time i'm beside you i get the impulse of shouting to every one that you look incredulously gorgerous wearing those make-pretend reading glasses.

i wonder if you hear. hear the effect your patented laugh has on me. hear the nervousness brewing inside me every time you say something to me.

i wonder if you know. know that you've made two days in a week worth looking forward to.

i wonder about a lot of things. i wonder how you turned out to be wonderful to me... nah, i'm sure why.

me

comments-conscious scribbler

"the right to speak up doesn't come with the assurance that you'll be listened to."
--- anonymous

ok. so there's one strong factor why i don't post whenever i feel like it. aside from the real facts that my schedule forbids me, that my writing gets dried up at times, that i'm feeling either too happy or too gloomy to write, that i'm too impoverished for using up my internet account...

i also don't post when i see that no one bothered to comment.

i dunno. to me it's just like talking and yakking your throat out then everyone just ignores you. yeah, i'm an attention-whore and this attention-whore is on his knees begging for feedback, kneeling down for reactions.

did i really say "whore"? lap dance, anyone?

bottled monologues - series 10

you,

do you remember 11 years ago when we first met? we were so young then that we saw the world ever so simply. everything seemed like lego blocks at our disposal. you know well why we connected. while everyone else preoccupied themselves with sweating it out on afternoons after class, we held our heads up. we haughtily said that we were too mature for children's games.

why i had this affinity with you---much like how tartar attaches itself to a tooth---is not an enigma to you. we were nerdy grammar nazis who were sticking out like sore thumbs. in that juvenile and warped world, we lived ok. true, we were very much ok.

life happened. when we both were faced with a forked road, we skidded off separately. i don't see an intersection coming soon.

why am i writing this? i guess it's just a time in my life when i'm scavenging for missing pieces. and yes, when i think of lost loves, it's difficult to forget you.

you're happy. it brought a smile to me and a tear in my heart knowing that you're still that geek who's prissy with sentence constructions and the proper usage of nouns. amidst the 100 things that keep us apart, i still see that one thing that urged me to write an entire blog entry about you.

i know these mementoes belong to me. just as much as i know that you rightfully belong to someone else.

me



seashells and the parallel horizon

stars hanging from celestial strings, that's what they are.

for others, some dreams are so easy to grab hold of. there are times when i go as far as assert to the world that it owes me. it has always been a violent struggle.

though at times i look away, it's hard not to be caught by, become bedazzled with what my eyes see. i have my bouts of superficiality and i sometimes indulge in them.

i can only watch from afar. my fingers have been charred before and i, consumed in a swoop of flames. my heart is not burning yet it is singed.

broken seashells have no place under the wide grin of the sun. darkness comes whenever i reach for what i cannot have.

when shooting stars mark the horizon, i raise may hands over my head, my palms generously stretched open. life may become kinder.

it ain't mulan's reflection

today i woke up on the right side of the bed, sunlight peered into my room generously and my pillows fluffed around me like horny rabbits wanting to get some. it was all good but the feeling i felt was nowhere near happy. i felt tired. tired of everthing. i don't know why but i just am.

have you ever had one of these days i'm ranting about? right now, i can't philosophize or conjure up any of my usual explanations that beg to be witty. until this very instant, i'm feeling blah. end of statement. just feeling blah.

it's a bit crazy. earlier, people i know seem to notice that i was a bit off. what's even weirder is that when i looked at myself in the mirror during the break, i was sure as hell that my eyes were brimming with emptiness. i was suddenly in front of a young man with a stare i couldn't make out. if he was searching answers from me, i wasn't sure. if i needed them to begin with, was more vague.

and they say no one knows you like yourself. i have to schedule an acquaintance party.

i find myself saying all of these here. this place where my words are concrete, where no one will say they are but gibberish. i'm back.

summer down the road


ok. i can pretend that i didn't go m.i.a. on the blogging world or i could come clean with it. if you know me well enough, you'd be sure that i'd fill you in on my life even if you try to shut my trap with a dagger to my neck.

yes, as i oracled a few blog posts ago, the summer i had was indeed a little busy with school stuff. i'd elaborate but i'll graciously deny you of the gift of boredom for now. because i haven't written any of the stuff loitering in my head, you can expect this post to be a little messier than usual. so, game on!

movie guide philosphy on bestfriends
in a friendship, how does one get demoted from the bestfriend status?

i do realize that the line i just typed is screaming sarah jessica parker but it is a valid question and it needs answering... or at least the effort of trying to answer it.

being the bestfriend of someone is something that i never plan. it just happens like the hands of fate worked its wonders and tied up the ends of your shoe laces together. after some rough tugging and pulling, you then realize that you two have more in common than a silly playground dilemma. you may admit it or you may try to be cool and indifferent, but you'll know it with your gut that a name can now fall under the category of "bestfriend" in your filing cabinet.

having that status to someone is big. it gives you a certain power over the other person and as peter parker's dead relative said, with it comes great responsibility. hmm... just what are the exact responsibilities heaved on your shoulder? does quantity weigh heavier than quality on this one?

i once had a bestfriend. we were so honest with everything that it almost felt that we shared the same skin. when we used to talk on the phone and my asthma kicks in, he'd tell me not to pull away the phone every time i coughed my lungs out because there was no need to be polite or civil around each other. it was weird but we both were, so that normalizes everything up, i guess. we were each other's shock absorber that we'd dump our issues all over ourselves and then would feel a little better afterwards.

suddenly, we were both busy with our separate lives. no more marathons of listening to self-pity. no more interesting corny jokes thrown impromptu. no more silly tutorials of how to cook instant noodles. it just hit me that i was the only one calling him bestfriend and when he used that word, he wasn't referring to me no more. no more.

it does hurt. it feels like a part of you wilts and dies inside but it's something that you have no other option but to accept. there was no contract signed saying that stripping away the bestfriend status is consensual.

like the movie guide says in fine print, things are subject to change without prior notice.

pep squad for the losing warrior
what's with these koreanovelas on primetime block these days? practically all of them have two boys who vie for one girl or two women in a bitch race for a guy. a normal mushy tv geek who needs to get a life (or any other person for that matter) will root for the couple who share mutual love but i found myself going against the grain on this one.

i make pompom cheers for the unrequited, the ones who get denied of the love they gun for. maybe i need to get out more often. maybe this behavior can be used as a basis for thesis because it can be a resource for a lot of psychological shit.

maybe i'm rallying for their happiness because no one else does.

the field with the wind vane and the corn cob
they say it comes with age. supposedly, when you get older, the pressure to snag that special someone becomes more difficult to ignore. that isn't true for me.

i'm not ancient but when i was about a few years younger, i had all these fantasies (they're not so sexual, mind you) i wanted to realize. i had all these ideas and philosophies of how i'd find my kindred soul and how i'd go about relationships. in my mind, everything had to be grand and magical and larger than life. it had to come in the perfect time and fireworks had to be a major element in the scenario i playwrighted in my head.

now, i'm just sitting around like a lazy wind vane, not minding too much if the wind blew in right this moment or if it was still keen on taking its time.

i don't know if i turned cynical or jaded but i know somewhere along the way, i got less conscious being the lone corn cob unharvested in a wide field. at this point, i've learned in the hardest of ways that not all dreams are deemed to come true and that they are just meant to remain as like that---dreams.

hey, i'm not giving up on something. if it comes right after i post this, i'm still very much open to it. i'll grab it while it's hot, thank you very much.