Tuesday, December 30, 2008

shit.

"Flew away the longest-longed-for dream
Through and among the higher, i deem
Ran away to there very far, that creature i took
I see it shall never head back, never even look."

Monday, December 29, 2008

Isumpa mo kay Ploning, ang emo na dalaga ng Palawan.








i watched Ploning this morning. great movie, nice story, nice shots. definite eye candy, i say. not so great acting though by some of the actors. judy ann santos, gina pareno, ketchup eusebio, ces quesada, mylene dizon and the greater part of the cast did very, very tasteful acting. some didn't, but they aren't really actors, so i'll save the acid. but the bad acting isn't enough, thankfully, to turn the film into something very excruciating. so, great job, mister-director-sir.

one notable thing about the movie is the cinematography. the lush, picturesque landscape of cuyo, palawan was imprinted onto celluloid with such graceful colors and lights; the beauty is truly captured, with every shadow cast, every ray of light, every shade of gray is in place, truly wonderful.

a song in the movie, played in the beginning while the shadows of ploning, the heroine, and her lover, tomas, suggested some sweet love making in the lamplight, was very catching, save for the language barrier. bea-u-ti-ful. entitled ploning, the song gave the inspiration for the movie.

the lyrics are in cuyonon, palawan's main dialect, but there are tagalog translations. there are two, actually. one is the original tagalog translation, and another translation was made for the movie. i don't know why another was needed, but i choose to not lose sleep over it.

her are excerpts from the three versions:

[3rd stanza]
Ploning…
Pagsarig kanaken
Tedek sa akeng leba
Ang akeng bisara
Tigbas mo sa bato
Kemkemen sa panyo
Indi engued ag kupas
Maski ara ren ang lawas.

================
[literal Tgalog translation]
Ploning…
Magtiwala ka sa akin
Tapat sa loob ko
Ang mga sinasabi ko
Itaga mo sa bato
Balutin ng panyo
Hinding-hindi kukupas
Kahit wala na ang katawan ko.

================
[the other Tagalog translation]
Ploning…
Ako’y sumusumpa
Sa puso nagmumula
Sana’y magtiwala…
Itaga sa bato
Balutin ng panyo
Kailanma’y di kukupas
Kahit hanggang wakas.

====
poignant, yes?

the song's originally told, or sung, in a man's point of view. the story is of his leaving his love, ploning, and then of the lamentations, whilst she waits for his return. the movie, however, was told in ploning's POV.

Nice movie. I say watch it. the start may need a little warming up to, for there is a big character list. the intro to the movie may seem more like a bombardment. but you'll get settled in the first 20minutes of the 90plus minutes of the movie.

The movie is included in the Oscars, nominated for best foreign language film, i think. gosh.

the movie, i think, is a cultural immersion in itself. tagalog is minimal in the movie. cuyonon, the dialect, is used more.

Friday, December 26, 2008

Communism is a very wonderful thing.

Communism is a very wonderful thing.


From high school lectures, communism was put upon all china by Mao Tse Tung/ Zedong.

his power didn't go all the way over to Taiwan, however, because that's where people went to escape, lead by Chiang Kai-Shek. it would've been really tragic, and a real freaking exercise in futility, if communism reached them there. okay, it's not very funny, and not important in this entry.


Though I invite all of you who read to correct any misleading content. My intelligence is humble enough.


communism is all about LIVING equally, from what i know. no rich people, no poor, all middle, working class. it could be described by the statement, "I eat what you eat, every single day of the week, until we both die of monotony and excessive monosodium-glutamate from Chinese food. and we'd be buried the same six feet underground, freaking dead-parallel[pardon the pun] along each other."


living it, in my danger-free conjecture, would maybe look like gossip girl being robbed of all her gossip and sources, then giving it to the public. then she'd be normal, out-in-the-open, just like the people she doesn't stalk.


the world would then be free from the insanely dense rich, who are just annoying to see act like the only children of god; that is, if they care enough about religion and faith; or a higher power other than gold. an image good enough is Regina from mean girls.


next to be out would be the lazy poor, many of which are incredibly fertile, i might add. get off your butts, people, WORK. get your children off the streets and do your own work. stop having sex like it's the only thing humans are meant to do. every Christmas there just seems to be more of those poor little children begging alms from the cars at every stoplight intersection.


the middle-class like myself would be affected not by much. that is comforting a thought, albeit deathly boring.


and not only boring. communism was put to stop because it puts to a STOP all human potential.

it was keeping the human being from getting better. when you are a worker, you never EVER become the manager. Mao controls you, me, all of us.


and of course, no one would agree with that, being tied up to where he is and never let go until retirement [from life, possibly].


and so, that's how badly-loved and well-hated communism came to be.

and it's just as beautiful but wicked democracy is.

the only problem is that, the former was not acceptable subjectively.

objectively, it is plausible.


Happy Holidays, everyone. =)

Saturday, December 20, 2008

The Scandalous List [Which you aren't a part of, SORRY].

So here's my List.

I don't mind other people's lists, if anyone understood [or had time to even read] what the previous post was all about, because I really do not have much beef and bad blood between people.
Besides, being indifferent is best.

so here it is, and this I keep truthful, adherent to the 'rules' [however non-watertight they were as i wrote them], free from BS, and in alphabetical order.

===================================================================

* -I don't know how to do it, the way you did it, and maybe still you do, and i stay still not knowing. maybe in time, if maybe the feeling is right enough, maybe when tastes ripen.

+++

* - I don't get you. Many do, I think, but still the love isn't overflowing. You are one of those people, the multitude, i do not really appreciate nor respect nor like even a bit because of the air you carry about yourself, and how your dudes [or ex-dudes] act the way they do, which is on a 'high'.

+++

* - Really mature, mister. "That was real mature", i repeat the sarcasm. Now I believe you when you said that you aren't really smart, because, darn, you really aren't. That was one darned thing to do, and not talk. Whew, wasted were my words. You're face is kind of ugly, though. So there.

+++

* - To you i dedicate the All-American Reject single, "Gives You Hell". And dare I be specific? Let me. So here:

"When you see my face
I hope it gives you hell...

If you find a man that's
Worth the damn and treats you well
Then he's a fool, you're just as well
hope it gives you hell...

You can take back your memories
They're no good to me..."

Being bitter is not the best way to feel, and thankfully I am not. And you can take care of doing it on your end.
I hope you die from VD, and be happy while acquiring it, on your ass or your ugly face, which is a manner most UNORTHODOX.

Can't wait to meet you and finally bring torturous pain.

+++

* - Tama na ang kayabangan at kasungitan, e ang bobo mo naman. Walang kwenta kung anu meron ka, kasi talagang sobrang bobo mo.

It's bittersweet that I am feeling this as I write this.
[Shit, kelangan ko pala mag-Tagalog baka kasi hindi mo maintindihan.]

Ang nararamdaman ko ay magkahalong pait at tamis habang isinusulat ko ito.
Kawawa ka, ang tanda-tanda mo na, call center agent ka pa rin. Pambatang trabaho lang yan.

+++

* - I've nothing to say but Sorry, and maybe friendship is not far from here. I loved the talking, you're really smart. Again, Sorry. =)

+++

* - Whoa, girl. No, you are not the cause of all the confusion. The confusion is making it all worse, though. So, as a friend, may I ask of you to lower your pride and have a nice conversation with them? Maybe some Understanding is all it would take to bring us all back together.

+++

====================================================================

Epilogue:
The List may or may not include you, though I'll be quick to point out that these people, which i chose not to name, are from all of the three circles of friends[or acquaintances] i keep, so no need to feel paranoid.

Maybe it's not you. =)


Lucky are those who do not read my blog.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

We are all monkeys, all trying to get about to tearing each other's eyes out. [IT RHYMES AGAIN!]

the title's irrelevant. do not mind that. should there be a law dictating the importance of an accurate title, then i am breaking it deliberately [and with no shame at all].

now that the exams are going away [Hurray all you want, i am indifferent] and christmas is coming [to town] to rob our banks once more and steal the warmth from everything alive and nonliving, another hiatus from classes [or hell, agree?] is comin' 'round. and this vacation of some sort should be a time to [heal? mend?] curse the [effin'] heck off the faces of people we abhor [soo much].

but kidding aside, we really should, before christmastime comes.

so i have devised a plan to do just that, given that all the people you hate are all literate.

the plan is to make a list of the seven statements for the seven people you hate most [not counting political figures, the dead and undead, the inanimate, the devil, and God Almighty].
you can choose not to write the names, but no codenames.

maybe you'd like to arrange them according to the alphabetical order of the names, and in case you do not put any, you can do so by first writing down all the names and the words you've got to tell that person, then arrange them by copy-paste-ing, then erase all the names [if you still want to].

But wait, there is more: you can also be as brutally honest by telling the truth [about how long they've been a part of your twisted life, and how badly they'd entangled themselves around you that they may not be able to get away someday'.]

like so:

Angelina Jolie - Adopt me.
Edilberto Gonzaga, MD - I never liked you.
Santa Claus - I hope you didn't forget my wishlist, you fat buffoon.
Steph - I like your new hair. But I don't loooove it.
Stephen King - How?

then:
*- Adopt me.
*- I never liked you.
*- I hope you didn't forget my wishlist, you fat buffoon.
*- I like your new hair. But I don't loooove it.
*- How?

Or you could opt for initials. [Adopt me, AJ]

Of course, it'd be more favorable [and fun and scandalous and controversial] to use the seven slots in the list for the seven people you really need to talk to [or say sorry, i love you, whatever, to]. because some people really need talking to.

So this is my way of telling you people to HURRY AND MAKE UP.
the drama is creeping into me and it is not making me happy and being neutral is not much to do to make it all good again.

but of course, there really is a number of people i'd like to hurl much invectives at, until their ugly faces are ugly no more, because they'll no longer be faces.

=)

Friday, December 12, 2008

[OMG, it rhymes] The Sun Rises From the Breast.

The Sun Rises from the Breast

The sun rises from the breast
Of the earth and touches
My resting eyes. I pressed
Them shut further, he reaches
Still to pry into my deceiving
And abhorrent and guilty
Flesh. There is no halting,
It is clear. I open slightly
The windows to my heart
To let sunshine in, to let
Myself to embrace a start
Of a new day. Without regret
I did so, and bathed in
Warmth. It gladly kissed
My flesh, licked my skin.
I see and feel the cold mist
Wafting through the morning
Air. No escape for the tired
And restless in silent hiding.
The sun rose, gloriously fired
A myriad of dreams fleeing.

-albert

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

I Glance at the Shadow

I glance at the shadow

I glance at the shadow
That stalks me,
Dark and wiry and slender,
Then walked on til he
Conquered me
And my mind and my heart I let him conquer

A bright eye overlooks
The entrapment,
White, bright, and motionless
There he stayed well up
And above the illumination lent
Til she sank to flames, towards her breasts

The cycle still greatly baffles me
A shift of shadows,
Of dances in the dark
Whether in the complete pitch blackness,
Or in bright, yellow, stark
And bare brightness
To the most intense
Or into the deepest
I am lost in transition.

-ALbert

Get Naked, Crazy B!tch!!

I look to the setting sun

To take a look at what is gone

To take a look at what you’ve done

To me, by you, darling


The horizon continues to take you in

Back to where you’ve been

Far from where I’m in

Overlooking you, my darling


The sun brings back many things

Your smoldering eyes, those Jolie lips

The things we did just for kicks

I’m looking for you, darling


So why, why do you keep me hanging

Why leave me hurting

Why keep me guessing

Why can’t you just lead me on to where you are


Coz I long to touch you, my shooting star

Take me to where you are

I’ll tread the trenches

Climb the cliffs

I promise you, darling, I’ll take all the risks


Because I’ve been wanting

Waiting for your love

Longing for your kiss

Your touch

Them’s all I really miss, my darling

So don’t keep ‘em all, my darling.



-Albert


YEAH, CRAZY BITCH!!!

Gray Bird

Gray Bird

Gray bird, fly where else?
Your wings a-flutter, with grace, no less.
Your plumage rich with stripes of light
Skims soft on wind where on you alight

Pray tell how you keep peace?
In flight, how are you not amiss?
Your wings carefully tread the wind
Ever so slight, is he not a fiend?

When storms arise, and winds turn cruel
How do you seek and avoid the duel?
How can you not be frightened of the cold?
Of biting chill and eerie frost? How bold.

How, when heat turns manifold?
Dried up streams and rivulets, behold?
Does the hard beak turn hot in soar?
Do the hot earth your talons ignore?

Do you not hide and succumb in fear?
How soon will your songs I hear?
The merriment feels long gone
Yet the sentiments linger, dusk ‘til dawn.

Grievances carry on, in my lacking of you
Withered in silence, more silent my heart grew
The playfulness of the morn, now is lost
The darkness now lingers, in me only lasts frost

Sorrow in spring, autumn, and in fall
Now that winter has conquered them all
Will I ever hear the joy of tune in you
And kiss my heart to rejoice anew?

When do I see you again, gray bird of joy?
Your gray feathers rustle, deploy?
When will you step on the wind again
And strike happiness, not in vain?

I hope to see the skies do mourn its loss
And all the lands you flew over and across
The branches and rocks your feet alit
May your wings forever flit

- albert



++Thanks, Lara.

Albert goes Psychotic!! Eats foot for dinner!!


Nag-discuss si Doc Gonzaga last psych period ng personality disorders. At dahil paranoid ako, feeling ko may sira na din ako. Tingin ko may combo ng psychoses na nangyayari sakin. Etiology? Hmm. None that I am reminded of, except traumatic deficiencies in high school, and parental forces.



Now, while listening, and I am, of course, listening INTENTLY, the symptoms seemed to make sense. It was like a bucket of water splashed on you with the purpose of waking you up, and you want to wake up, so you let them do it. the splash felt like, “There it is! I’m good and awake.”



There they are. Thanks, DSM-IV.

The symptoms are coming together to form one big, fat, one-eyed, very sick diagnosis [or -es].



And as I sat there, half-listening, half-assessing my psychotic potential, paranoia kicked in; I felt that everyone was watching my reaction, and when I’m finished with my assessment of this mind of mine, they’ll be, too, and then everyone would be calling me lunatic. because my bewildered face sold me out.



The disorders, though meant then a life of unending lunacy and consciousness’ mutilation, sounded milder that the ones on TV. No one’s going Emily Rose, thank God [how clever a sentence]. But still, unease was all over felt.



The slideshow neared ending, and the treatment schemes came into view. Prognosis, said in the slide, is poor, though early treatment would be good, since like a metal bar, Doc Gonzaga’s comparison showed, the human brain proves safer and easier to bend without much rust. Yea, something like that.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-


But then something went "ding!" inside.


While i sat there, lamenting the future death of my dying sanity, something came to my realization; the 'symptoms' do not completely fit the checklist for any of the psychoses. hurrah. and this proves me of my crazed paranoia. but that is another disorder.



-=--=--==-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-


Nakalimutan ko na na dapat nag-Tagalog ako sa blog. Oh well.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Bliss
by Alice Peacock feat. John Mayer

Your touch is electric
I felt it the first time you held me
The way we connected
So easily

I've tried to define it
Searched for the perfect phrase
I've tried to describe it
In a million different ways

(chorus)

It's joy, it's ecstacy, it's truth, it's destiny
And even love is not enough to tell you how you make me feel
There's only one word for this

I've got to admit it
You took my heart by surprise
Don't know how you did it
But baby, I've never felt so alive

(chorus)

It's joy, it's ecstacy, it's truth, it's destiny
And even love is not enough to tell you how you make me feel
There's only one word for this
It's bliss

Hey, you know, baby, know what the future holds
As long as you're here with me

(chorus)
It's joy, it's ecstacy, it's truth, it's destiny
And even love is not enough to tell you how you make me feel

It's faith, it's honesty, it's life, it's everything
To say "I love you"'s not enough to tell you how you make me feel

It's in your smile, in your kiss
It's the reason that I exist
There's only one word for this

It's bliss

It's bliss

It's bliss

Waking Up [OR not] from a Muthafukin-ish Bad Dream.

7:14PM

you wake up every time, away from dreams and fresh with somehow rejuvenated eyes. i don't get that, how can someone's life be so not hectic. kids, do not get this life.

so then, what if you dont wake up? what if you think you've awoken, then rub your eyes, then go brush your teeth, forget to brush your tongue, put on decent-smelling clothes for work, then leave? no problem in that. it is the normal life you've chosen to lead. problem in there is that, you don't realize your dream hasn't stopped yet, and you walk and eat and then sleep, wake up in that same dream again.

kind of sci-fi, isn't this what? by the time you've known you are in the dream, living it, you can choose to either continue it, or wake up. this is not the matrix, kids. this is real life, not in mine, but in two persons'. one chose to live the dream, get soaked in the dirt and grime and slime and fun; while the other would want to get out, and get drenched in the real life crap all of us deal with. both worlds do have equal parts of dirty, grinning, weird faces, so watch out, you two, and all of us.

you dont understand all this, do you, unknowing patron? i dont too. i dont get why would one get out of this life to live in another, which is the same.

i take that this is how it goes, as i plot out an example: I go to the mall, then walk around and frolic til dinner time. would i get home? or would i go somewhere lights still shine, day's dont start, nights light up with liquor?

it's getting farther to where we think is great, but do we get back to our normal selves?

do you get me? i dont get me.

hehe.

-albert.

Friday, June 27, 2008

It is here.

Classes are here, and vacation is rapidly kissing, or at least barely brushing, our cheeks goodbye. Mine went bye-bye a little bit earlier. I do not care if you got my joke or not, or if you thought that that was something serious and informative, but the deal is: classes are here, for 3months, then sembreak, then classes again.

My vacation was fun, actually. Not every college kid in the has watched the 10 seasons of Friends in a 3-month period, or so i think. Maybe they may have had lives to party and drink and get pregnant, so they didn’t want to. Plus, I got to watch the first 4 seasons[read: pre-Writer’s Guild Strike] of The Office. HA! That is a wonderful, wonderful sitcom. Let me just get to the pirated DVDs and pick out the latest seasons.

Let me tell you something: Law & Order isn’t so bad after all. Of course, kids wouldn’t watch that, but it’s really good tv. I am watching Law & Order Criminal Intent, and it’s a very decent, intellectual, and sexy, if you find either deaths or good detectives, or both, sexually titillating. Very, very classy, and obviously for the more mature audience, very much alike Sopranos. Last sembreak, we watched Sopranos, but never really got to finish the last season, so I think catching up is to be in place. Anyway, there is similarity in both series: the seriousness of the characters, and bright actors, and the beautiful storyline. Of course, Sopranos brings in the rather explicit sexual scenes and breast exposures, but still, golden. L&OCI isn’t that serious at all, though, and less drama, but delivers well, anyway.

Au contraire, I cannot stand more than two straight episodes watching it. My brain couldn’t go and process as much. See, when I watch Friends, at least six episodes, I can take, but L&OCI, I really can’t. Sure, I can just let the video play, and I’ll watch, without thinking, but the satisfaction is not in there. Thinking hard and understanding the process of investigation, the plot twists, the bright suspects, the brain is active all the way, and that is what is making it sexy and slick.

Also, what I did in the vacation, except my two-day getaway, was watch the Roland Garros French Open ’08. I did not really catchis when it started, but I got myself immersed into watching the very cool sport of tennis, and to the very beautiful Sharapova [I already knew her way back, but haven’t seen her play] and Ivanovic [no.1 in the world and she;s just 19, I think]. And look at how Nadal plays, very exciting. I just caught some games on tv, but I watched the finals [still, on tv. I can’t go to France, can I?].

I still remember the first game I got to watch, with Sharapova and some girl. Great thing about watching it on tv is that you really see it, without a very tempting head to kick that belongs to the person in front of you, and no feet cramping the floor except yours, and you can hear the grunting as the players hit the ball. Imagine a woman giving birth, the grunt of every push. Now, subdue that a little, and maybe pick out curse words, if your imaginary mother is that profane, and go about 10 feet away. There it is. Funny thing, every grunt is like a cry of distress, and it is the only window of weakness I see in these tall, muscular men and women players. Ah, I very much want to come to France to watch it all live. Ah, riches of the corrupt politicians, come hither, come to me, please.

Err--, that is what I’ve got to say.

P.S.

Ivanovic won the Women’s, Nadal got the Men’s.