Goodbye and Good Luck

Parting is such a sweet sorrow. Goodbye friends. Goodbye beautiful city. Goodbye. Hope the new city will be as welcoming as this one, will be as nourishing as this one, will be as warm as this one. Hope the next year will be glorious as this one. Hope I am making the right if not better decision. Hope I won’t regret this. I’m crossing my fingers.

Parting is full of shit. I’d rather resort to partying. Nomad is an island. Boo-hoo, hobo.

Home, Home, I’m Coming Home

Status Message: I-H-I-C

After almost nine months (238 days to be exact), I’m going back home. There was really no plan of going home. I always thought that I will only be going back once every year. But thing’s changed. I may be indecisive but once I decided on something even how ridiculously impossible they are, I’ll go for it. That is what they call spontaneity, I call it pride. *smirk smirk*

My going back home was triggered by three different incidents, one was job related, I was suspended, but then again I was not, may be I was just tested, but I bought it anyway. The other is my parents especially my father wants me back home very badly. My father obviously missed me so much that he gets into a drinking spree every time he remembers that I don’t even check them up, that I have already forgotten about them, and I’m one great ingrate. The last one is (as you can see in my previous blog) the latest incident in Guimaras, which depresses me a lot, so I wanted to see it for myself. I want to know the extent of the damage, how well everyone is doing to rehabilitate the area, and also I wanted to weep uncontrollably, throwing myself to the coastline now tainted black. *boo hoo*

I was actually supposed to leave yesterday but for some mystical reasons my ATM card was captured and at the same time there was no cash dispensed. Oh God, oh please God, why me? Why at this time? Why at this very moment? I almost wept and hurtled the ATM machine (all I did was pat with minimal force the side of the machine because the guard was peering through my back) but the security guard was really reassuring that he says after knowing him for a seconds that this was a sign that I should not leave this place, may be the bus will collide with another bus, or the fast craft will slip and sink because of the oil slicks, hmmm, morbid thoughts (knock on wood). *tok tok*

I will be traveling alone early tomorrow. I will be meeting strangers by the bus. I will be rubbing elbows with people who in a way are already used with this early traveling. I will let my hair brushed by the coldness of morning winds. And never comb them back for sometimes I look good with an untidy hair or never really looked good at all, I just wished. I will be squeezing myself in long queues of passengers trying to get a ticket to Iloilo, some of them do this routinely, some of them will be doing this for the first time, some of them I’ll get to have a conversation with, some of them I know, some of them will not sit on the supposed number they are on, some of them I will give a sharp stare for getting my seat, some of them will gush (oooh aaah) at the sight of oil slicks floating amass on the bright blue sea, some of them will chatter noisily that I will throw a pocketful of Swiss knives at their back. Aaah, the nomads. I can’t wait to see my grandmother. *yeah yeah*

Hush. I-H-I-C. Iloilo, here I come.

Spill No More

For the dearest Guimaras and Taklong



I have watched this show on cable TV about how to control oil spills once it happened. They had a little simulation on one of the waters of New York on how to stop the spreading of oil spills. They used detergents (of what kind, I don’t know) and sprayed on the affected area through water vessels and aircrafts. These environment-friendly detergents work by disintegrating large amounts of oil into very tiny globules easily consumable by the marine species. By this, they have easily contained the spill in just little amount of time. I’m hoping that this country would have done the same to the oil spill that happened off the coast of Guimaras. It is so depressing that I can’t even imagine its long-term effects on tourism and marine life of the island. I am worried about the future of Taklong Island and the coral reefs, mangrove forests, and seagrass beds that surrounded it. Taklong Island was one of the areas hit by the said sinking of oil bunker of Petron. The government has already sought help from foreign countries and hopefully this thing will be solved before the damage will become so humungous that it will take decades to reconstruct again the area. It has affected many livelihoods that solely depend on fishing. And the mangrove forest, seaweed beds, and coral reefs that took years to be made were just wiped out overnight. It will take decades (approximately 30 years for mangrove forests) to replenish again the once beautiful beaches of Guimaras. What will happen now to its white beaches, to Nemos and anemones, to the colorful lives swimming haplessly underwater, to the people who finds solace on sunset by the beach, to the locals who finds sustenance to the abundance of the sea, to the people like me who prefers swimming/diving than shopping, to the memories once surrounded by joyous snapshots beside the giant clams, to tourists who fancies the solemnity of the island than the slapdash nightlife of Boracay, to ordinary people who washes themselves everyday in the sea? We have to wait till then.



The solution to prevent this from ever happening again is for the people to reduce their dependence on oil. That may be very hard, but as ingenious as we are, we can always find ways. And to further avert it, I urged the Philippine government or the world itself to authorize regulations that force if not require both the shipping industry and the oil companies to operate under the highest standards of ships and crews. I believe the captain (if he deserves to be called as such) of the said craft has little training or knowledge on how to operate the vessel that sank in Guimaras Strait. It was definitely an ecological time bomb that has long-term and possibly permanent damage to the environment and livelihoods of the people. Again, we still have to wait. But by waiting, we are only letting this happen, so we have to act now, make a choice, stand up, and prevent these things from occurring in the future. And by the way, please oh please, let Petron and its sister companies pay for the rehabilitation of the said area and not the taxpayers’ money.



I Too...

I too will weep with the wails of the whales
and the humming of the wind
while it caresses the very soul that feeds
on reminiscence of sun pricking the hairy pale arms,
the waves that send bodies come tumbling down,
the blowing air that dries and chicken-skins our wet bodies,
the cold night by the beach that shivers our feet
and crabs our arms to wrap ourselves
if there is no one around to wrap ourselves into.

I too will snivel with the bawling and thunderous waves,
with the sirens of bamboos brushing their slender bodies together,
with the blubbers of bubbles stroking the soles of my feet,
with the purring of distant creatures whom we assume watching over us,
with the droning of the night that will succumb to the rising of the sun
and will once again cry in vain to the mercilessness of mankind.

This black gooey oil will forever soil
the tiny flappers of young sea turtles
that once innocently strode over, gasping for air,
floating and paddling its arms on the surface,
and washed aback to shore lifeless.

PS: All the mangrove reforestation and carol transplantation were now in vain. So help us God!

PS: All the coral transplantation, mangrove reforestation were all now in vain. So help us God.

Forgotten

I have forgotten about my blog. I have nothing to write, actually. I have run out of topics, and I’ve been boring and annoying myself lately. Maybe that explains the lack of creative nerve cells running in my head. But, there never were anyway.

I can only use my television and DVD player during weekends when my roommates go home to their hometowns. So these past weekends, I have been doing movie marathons and sadly waking up early because of work. Last night, I watched The Dreamers by Bernardo Bertolucci (Stealing Beauty, Last Tango in Paris). It clearly became one of my favorite films. I was engrossed by the whole mystery (thriller) of the film that even the explicit scenes, I no longer mind. I like how the director weaves old films to parallel with the happenings in the story; I especially liked the rolling-over-to-the-river-type suicide coinciding with Isabelle trying to suffocate her and her sleeping buddies with the gas. The acting was great and it reminded me of Y Tu Mama Tambien, and other “threesome” films.

Last week, I watched another twisted French film filled with fascinating and unsettling views on incest, homosexuality, bondage, rodentophobia, dysfunctional families. Sitcom is a film by the young director, Francois Ozon (Swimming Pool, 8 Women) which tells how a family was controlled by the coming of a pet rat, and how the mother always talks things out much like what happens in sitcoms. It’s very, very black; you might need the lights turned on. Hey, that was racist!

The other films are too boring I even forgot their titles. I love weekends. I love French films. I want to go to Paris right now.

BTW: I am writing this short story slash novel (since it took me a great deal of time to finish it, I’m not even halfway) for a friend which is supposedly subtly based on her, but then it was almost her, I might need to let her sign a waiver or something.

Cats & Dogs

When it rains...it floods.

Golden Rule

Do unto others... then run!!!

Survey! Survey!

I found this survey somewhere out there over the rainbow bluebirds sing. May be I’m just bored.

Maybe I should…
…do nothing. I have been doing nothing all my life.

I love…
…you Sabado, pati buong Linggo. Hintay ka lang Jollibee, andyan na ako. I hate this song and Jollibee, because I prefer the caramel sundae of McDo.

My family is…
…not around right now. They are somewhere in the universe but not within 100-meter radius or 10-kilometer radius. They’re overseas, but this does not necessarily mean out of the country. They’re just there. There. Yes, there.

My favorite color is…
…not a color after all, guess what it is?

I lost my…
…sanity when I started studying in UP. Who is sane, anyway?

I don’t understand…
…French, but they do sound gay, cursing, angry, or something. They sometimes sound like Italian, Spanish, Russian, or German, if you cover your ears and not listen to the accent just to the movement of their lips. Foreign languages are all the same if you don’t understand them.

Walking on…
…shit is a good experience. It is like walking on life every goddamn day.

I want to…
…do nothing. I guess I have already said this.

Love is…
…not found in hell, or so what the bible says. Ok, I’m not really a reader.

Somewhere, someone is…
…peeing on the shower. I do it too. It’s fun. You should try it.

People would say that I’m…
…nothing and they are everything. Look how fair life is.

I will always…
…be doing this survey and other stupid-ish crap. They make my life less boring, albeit I am doing this because I am bored in the first place.

Forever is…
…too much for me to handle. I am not an atheist; it is just too long, you know.

I never want to…
…die old and be the joke of every silly young kids around, and smell like urine everyday. That’s gross. I love my lola by the way so don’t get me wrong.

When I wake up in the morning I…
…see light and think that this is the end of the tunnel. Morbidity is my breakfast. Hey, I don’t eat breakfast.

Life is full of…
…queuing, falling in line, waiting, dancing in the nude, setting the house on fire, shit (heaps of them), crap (hordes of them), cow manure (mountains of them), fuck-locking dogs, dirty laundries, skeletons in the closets, gossip mongering, politicians, bastards, mongrels, asswipes, war, killing, dying, and ultimately lots of living.

I think the current president is…
…a maniac. ‘Nuf said.

My past is incredibly…
…my past. I don’t want to recall.

I get annoyed when…
…I remember my past and past mistakes. It sucks to repeat those all over again or just even remembering them.

Parties are for…
…partygoers. If it has a lot of food and drinks, I might as well join.

My dog is…
…dead for biting me on the face. He was not even my dog, but I love dogs. I just don’t like them shitting everywhere.

My cat is…
…my grandmother’s. I don’t really own anything. I’m afraid they will turn into something abominable, something that will eat me alive while I’m asleep, something that will suddenly stick a melon baller into your eyeballs, something that is not a thing at all. Something tells me I am about to wear a straightjacket.

I wish…
…that all my wishes will come true, but then again, what are my wishes?

Kisses are the worst when…
…they are done in the wrong places without motivation. Huh?! What?!

I have low tolerance for people who…
…get into my nerves. I kind of shy away from them or just diss them blatantly. I’m that rude sometimes.

Tomorrow I’m going to…
…do the same thing all over again, which kind of sucks, but that’s my life…boring.

I really want…
…to eat caramel sundae right now. But based on statistics, it will not happen. Also I want to strangle myself for having this very bad migraine.

If I had a million dollars…...I would not be doing this survey. I will have someone to do it for me. But then again, one million dollars is not enough. I want more.

Guys are…
…guys as to boys are boys. This does not make sense, but who does?

Girls are…
…evil. Yeah, girls are evil as proven by this equation. Click it good, click it real good. http://www.scripting.com/images/mathematicalProofWomen.gif

This survey…
…affirms that there is no hope for me. I am so going to (fill in the blank). Choices are hell, heaven, purgatory, nowhere, everywhere, explode to pieces, and die young. Just text, IAMGOING2 your answer and type on Comments. If you don’t bother at all, just do nothing. Nothing is such a profound word; nothing can be done to change its meaning. Nothing is the thing to do as to nowhere is the place to be. No way, dude!

++++++++++++

This week’s episode of Rock Star: Supernova was the best so far, no one really screwed that bad except for the diva-esque arrangement of Jill (shouting is not singing unless you’re in the heavy metal band), the back-trouble of Lukas (does he like the drummer? I smell love), and the superhero/project runway outfit of Zayra (which is actually good, her antics are the ones that I look forward week after week). I thought Ryan deserved the encore even though his saliva is all over the place. I thought Dilana has a strong performance every week and Storm is creeping slowly to be the contender to beat (Oh, I love her soulful version of David Bowie’s Ccccchhhhaaanges). Toby made a good arrangement with Nirvana’s Pennyroyal Tea, I just don’t like the hugging-an-audience-participant thing, so trying hard. Josh, who deserves to win the American Idol together with Dana, actually made a good Bob Marley-esque take on Sublime’s Santeria, otherwise it was so RnB-ish if not reggae-ish (huh?!, I’m confused). Dana was tattooed and eliminated, Jill should’ve been, but I guess she made Heart proud. Patrice is so not there, no matter she steps it up, other than her strong commitment and dedication, she should already blow into pieces, to top the bitchslap Dave Navarro has given her (or even Ryan). Magni could’ve done better with Coldplay’s Clocks coz I thought he was devoured by the “loud” music of the Grammy-winning song, but I feel his feelings, hmmm.

Zayra must stay longer or else there’ll be no fun, unless of course Storm will start strip dancing, which is quite inevitable.