The Altis already had some battery problems when I got back from Cebu. I asked them to changed the batteries since around the last week of October.
I knew I will be hitting the fan with the car and I did. Haha.
After Powerplant, my sister and I went to get gas at Shell V.Cruz Extension. I turned off the engine and when I started the car, it won't start.
I instantly knew it was the batteries, and the attendant opened the hood and proceeded to try and make the batteries work. I told him it was weak and I pulled over to the side of the station.
Naturally, my sister called up her beau first. I called him up and told him our current predicament. He said get my sister to ask for a jumper wire to jumpstart the car. Told me to keep calm (which I was, stranded on a flooded unknown street was more crappy), and call my dad.
Sister called my dad and I talked to him about the situation and they were on the way. So is maurick.
Luckily, people up front where trying to jumpstart a car also, and asked if we needed some assistance. He connected the Altis into his white pick-up and I started the car which gave a purr of life.
Manong Mechanic told me to use the park lights first, switch off the air-conditioning and press the gas steadily to charge the batteries.
I gave him my deepest thanks and even offered him some money which he flatly refused. He said it was nothing and told us to drive safe.
Maurick arrived seconds later the car was running. He drove behind us. While I called him to tell we're ok. And we called my dad and uncle who was waiting for us in Quirino.
We convoyed towards home. Maurick at the back Dad and Uncle up front. I felt like driving for the president. Haha.
We got home at 12mn. Just in time for Dad's birthday.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
The Power of the Tarot Force.
I wasn't really a fan of the whole divination thing. My 6 years of logical brain training have been a skeptic to all the horoscope and numerology brouhaha. Although it's fun to take it seriously sometime.
With my sister's raving about a particular reader's "intuition" and "power" I was curious to see what she can say about me. So we arranged to have dinner at Powerplant and my first ever Tarot Reading session.
We got there around 7:10. And only the guy was available, the proclaimed master was drained and her aura was a bit miffed. After 30 minutes of waiting was seated at the back part of Press Cafe at a table draped in woven cloth and seated in front of me is the Reader, a semi-young-old guy in his late 30s maybe with an easy smile as he asked for my birthday.
He started to compute in a little piece of paper what there is to be computed on my birthday. After which he looked at me and explained
I was born in 1984, 28th July with the element wood. Based from my birthday, my lucky number is 3 and my colors are anything that represents the wood, so surprisingly, shades of green, brown, a deep dark red and even black. I should stay away from bright red, for it represents fire. And Fire burns Wood.
In the deck of Tarot, I am the empress. Of unconditional love and compassion. People who knows me would laugh at such a revelation. (there goes Truths#1) .
He said one of the upcoming dates would be a good day. And whatever that can happen will go as planned.
There goes analyzing my birthday. On to reading the cards.
He asked me to place my energy on the cards, to breathe in the positive energy and exhale the negatives, shuffle the deck 7times, and to pick out 13 cards with my intuitive hand (my left).
He laid it out and looked at them intently, asking about normal stuff, if I was in a relationship currently, if I was working, and all that.
He felt that I was thinking so much about a lot of things. Boy, was he right.
Currently the empress is being blocked by a force that seems to be making me hard to balance my personal and my work life. He saw me in so much anxiety and I seem to be having pent-up negative energy inside me building (SCREW YOU!) and it was being a hindrance to my success. I was actually fearing relationship matters with my colleagues.
He told me not to get influenced by anybody but to make decisions on my own. No one should be able to direct me but myself and I think that's fair.
I maybe carrying heavy burdens right now, but everything will be lifted. It was the perfect time for me to find a job supposedly and I will be financially stable in the future.
It seems pretty fair. So when the general reading was over, he asked me to as him 6 questions. Anything I want to know, money, love career, family anything.
Here were my questions in no particular order.
Then he gave me the cards, place them on my hands and ask for a secret wish, a wish that you can only tell when it comes true, so I placed my hands and wished for it with all my might. And I did. And picked out 3 cards if the wish would come true.
And lastly, what will be the road of my life. He said that for now, impulse is not a necessity but a need to be rational is more important. I would be successful and stable and I would even have enough money to help the poor. Amazing.
I thanked him for being enlightened (and tickled) paid him the php500 fee and left knowing a little bit more on what to do later on.
That was the power of the tarot force.
With my sister's raving about a particular reader's "intuition" and "power" I was curious to see what she can say about me. So we arranged to have dinner at Powerplant and my first ever Tarot Reading session.
We got there around 7:10. And only the guy was available, the proclaimed master was drained and her aura was a bit miffed. After 30 minutes of waiting was seated at the back part of Press Cafe at a table draped in woven cloth and seated in front of me is the Reader, a semi-young-old guy in his late 30s maybe with an easy smile as he asked for my birthday.
He started to compute in a little piece of paper what there is to be computed on my birthday. After which he looked at me and explained
I was born in 1984, 28th July with the element wood. Based from my birthday, my lucky number is 3 and my colors are anything that represents the wood, so surprisingly, shades of green, brown, a deep dark red and even black. I should stay away from bright red, for it represents fire. And Fire burns Wood.
In the deck of Tarot, I am the empress. Of unconditional love and compassion. People who knows me would laugh at such a revelation. (there goes Truths#1) .
He said one of the upcoming dates would be a good day. And whatever that can happen will go as planned.
There goes analyzing my birthday. On to reading the cards.
He asked me to place my energy on the cards, to breathe in the positive energy and exhale the negatives, shuffle the deck 7times, and to pick out 13 cards with my intuitive hand (my left).
He laid it out and looked at them intently, asking about normal stuff, if I was in a relationship currently, if I was working, and all that.
He felt that I was thinking so much about a lot of things. Boy, was he right.
Currently the empress is being blocked by a force that seems to be making me hard to balance my personal and my work life. He saw me in so much anxiety and I seem to be having pent-up negative energy inside me building (SCREW YOU!) and it was being a hindrance to my success. I was actually fearing relationship matters with my colleagues.
He told me not to get influenced by anybody but to make decisions on my own. No one should be able to direct me but myself and I think that's fair.
I maybe carrying heavy burdens right now, but everything will be lifted. It was the perfect time for me to find a job supposedly and I will be financially stable in the future.
It seems pretty fair. So when the general reading was over, he asked me to as him 6 questions. Anything I want to know, money, love career, family anything.
Here were my questions in no particular order.
- Ano ba talaga problema ng mama ko sa akin? (what is really my mother's problem about me?)
He was looking at the cards and looked at me with this tsktsktsk look. He told me that I will be more successful than anyone in the family, and I will be leaving them. For good. That is my mother's fear, that I leave her. Probably. - Would I be able to find a good job? Yes. Now's a good time to look.
- How is he anyway? Doing better. His heart is lifted.
- Will I get married? Yes, not only you will be married, but also financially stable
- Will he and I be together in the long run? Maybe not, there's a chance, but it will be hard.
- Are his intentions real? Real enough, but he may still falter.
Then he gave me the cards, place them on my hands and ask for a secret wish, a wish that you can only tell when it comes true, so I placed my hands and wished for it with all my might. And I did. And picked out 3 cards if the wish would come true.
And lastly, what will be the road of my life. He said that for now, impulse is not a necessity but a need to be rational is more important. I would be successful and stable and I would even have enough money to help the poor. Amazing.
I thanked him for being enlightened (and tickled) paid him the php500 fee and left knowing a little bit more on what to do later on.
That was the power of the tarot force.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
two sides.
Life will always rely on a side a and b (think overnight stay and lack thereof briefs). Surprising as it seems, nobody really likes looking at both sides, especially if they have already seen the comfort zone.
I want to talk about the two sides of a particular touchy topic that is very one-sided throughout the years. You can read on to know what I am talking about. And you can save all your violent reactions later in the comments section.
~
It's always hard to let go of someone you love, especially if you really and truly care for that person. Sometimes, you'd think that the world has ended and you don't give a flying f anymore about life, wishing we just die and move on in the ashes.
How we all wish it was that simple, that each time life gets so hard, we just want to lay an eternal rest.
I guess the only friend we really have in this predicament is time. During a period in which I like to call The Gray Haze, waking up and sleeping was the hardest, getting out of bed was as bad as trying to lift 40 muscled men out of the way to haul ass in the shower. I am willing to bet that 5 years of my life has been shimmied away from the massive amounts of caffeine and nicotine that have rushed in my system, and tilted my already insane mind into a craptastic breakdown of fallen tears and giddy laughter.
It was madness. A circus.
It took a while, but the pain slowly went away. It used to be a gut-opening, inside-slicing, God-why-don't-you-kill-me now pain, but there's gonna be one morning you wake up and it won't feel as bad as it was in the X Years Y Months and Z Days that has passed.
I have dropped into that shit hole a few times. One of them was close to me slitting my wrists and screaming "BLOODY MURDER!". Running around the city screaming "P!*#@&$@()!@ niyo lahat!" or "P0t4 ako!" Whichever works. Whichever felt right at the moment.
Now I look back on all that and laugh. All the devious lame-brained schemes, the equally lame plotting that I never did, and all the mixed-up, pent-up emotions that I have felt.
I know what had happened before, you don't forget it, you just accept that it's there and you just let it live inside you, but how you let it live, be in fear, anger, sadness or acceptance will evolve once you have had a deeper understanding of the situation.
This is my Side A, I was the victim.
Let's flip over the tape to Side B, I was the victimizer.
Yes, I broke up with someone. A few years ago, there was a time where I had to have a choice, options were laid out before me, and I know there's no such thing as having your cake and eating it too.
Nobody takes as much hard shit as the victimizer.
First, we go to the victim himself (obviously, it's a guy, if it was herself then there would have to be some side story revelation that I really am gay). The hysterics, the explanations and the pleadings. The manic almost crazy tendencies. I remember the day we sat on the benches at the university having one of the many "talks". Asking me back, asking me all those questions that I really cannot answer, and it made me guilty. Guilty of making a decision that obviously had to have some complications, but I had to be strong. I had to go through and live up to what I have done, and never look back in regret. But only regret with all the what-ifs.
The most recent one was the hardest one, we were friends for years and I admit to being an ass. I told him everything, honestly, I didn't had to go through any pretense, nor I think cheating was the answer and just letting up when all the shit hit the fan. I told him point-blank. And god that hurts. But I'd rather have one clean swipe of the knife than a slow jagged painful one. I couldn't help but think if I was making a mistake or I wasn't, but I knew that I would be lying to myself and lying to everybody and I will be living a lie.
That I cannot take anymore.
During this time, I was probably in all the grapevines that was twitching and pulsating in waves throughout wired places. I was messaged by curious friends who was trying to dig the issue from me. They had to use my sickness as an excuse to open a conversation. (why, thank God I'm sick), when they could've asked me directly without bullshit, without all the crap.
I was judged harshly by people who only seem to know one side. The only side people like to read. I was being pushed into the you're-making-a-huge-mistake corner, and I need to see some sort of "light", it was as if I was on some delusional dream and I need to "wake up". I believe they still cling on to some idealistic pleasure of being meant to be means forever and ever, and I ruined that for them, and they want me to go fix things up and they want me to plead guilty and say I'm sorry for being a stupid piece of shit and go patch things up pronto.
It also seems that they want to make me pay, only because I was honest, only because I didn't want to lie to save myself or to save my face in front of my friends...
The only thing I'm sorry for is hurting him. I am not accountable to anybody else. If you want to hear an apology from me for you, go line up, I'll get back to you, or maybe not.
Being in side B makes you know who your real friends are. And I love them even more, with my life. I am thankful for them seeing both sides first before poking me with inquisitions and all the hoopla. They were listening, and that is the only thing I want them to do. Is to just listen.
~
Going through those sides were a roller coaster experience. Where one side is like going up slowly, and painfully, like waiting for an inevitable doom only to be racing down through all the spins. And the other is going through all the loops, sharp edges and dangerous turns, like awaiting for death.
Both praying for the fucking ride to be over.
There is no ideals in this story. No bull. Just the cold and brutal reality.
I want to talk about the two sides of a particular touchy topic that is very one-sided throughout the years. You can read on to know what I am talking about. And you can save all your violent reactions later in the comments section.
~
It's always hard to let go of someone you love, especially if you really and truly care for that person. Sometimes, you'd think that the world has ended and you don't give a flying f anymore about life, wishing we just die and move on in the ashes.
How we all wish it was that simple, that each time life gets so hard, we just want to lay an eternal rest.
I guess the only friend we really have in this predicament is time. During a period in which I like to call The Gray Haze, waking up and sleeping was the hardest, getting out of bed was as bad as trying to lift 40 muscled men out of the way to haul ass in the shower. I am willing to bet that 5 years of my life has been shimmied away from the massive amounts of caffeine and nicotine that have rushed in my system, and tilted my already insane mind into a craptastic breakdown of fallen tears and giddy laughter.
It was madness. A circus.
It took a while, but the pain slowly went away. It used to be a gut-opening, inside-slicing, God-why-don't-you-kill-me now pain, but there's gonna be one morning you wake up and it won't feel as bad as it was in the X Years Y Months and Z Days that has passed.
I have dropped into that shit hole a few times. One of them was close to me slitting my wrists and screaming "BLOODY MURDER!". Running around the city screaming "P!*#@&$@()!@ niyo lahat!" or "P0t4 ako!" Whichever works. Whichever felt right at the moment.
Now I look back on all that and laugh. All the devious lame-brained schemes, the equally lame plotting that I never did, and all the mixed-up, pent-up emotions that I have felt.
I know what had happened before, you don't forget it, you just accept that it's there and you just let it live inside you, but how you let it live, be in fear, anger, sadness or acceptance will evolve once you have had a deeper understanding of the situation.
This is my Side A, I was the victim.
Let's flip over the tape to Side B, I was the victimizer.
Yes, I broke up with someone. A few years ago, there was a time where I had to have a choice, options were laid out before me, and I know there's no such thing as having your cake and eating it too.
Nobody takes as much hard shit as the victimizer.
First, we go to the victim himself (obviously, it's a guy, if it was herself then there would have to be some side story revelation that I really am gay). The hysterics, the explanations and the pleadings. The manic almost crazy tendencies. I remember the day we sat on the benches at the university having one of the many "talks". Asking me back, asking me all those questions that I really cannot answer, and it made me guilty. Guilty of making a decision that obviously had to have some complications, but I had to be strong. I had to go through and live up to what I have done, and never look back in regret. But only regret with all the what-ifs.
The most recent one was the hardest one, we were friends for years and I admit to being an ass. I told him everything, honestly, I didn't had to go through any pretense, nor I think cheating was the answer and just letting up when all the shit hit the fan. I told him point-blank. And god that hurts. But I'd rather have one clean swipe of the knife than a slow jagged painful one. I couldn't help but think if I was making a mistake or I wasn't, but I knew that I would be lying to myself and lying to everybody and I will be living a lie.
That I cannot take anymore.
During this time, I was probably in all the grapevines that was twitching and pulsating in waves throughout wired places. I was messaged by curious friends who was trying to dig the issue from me. They had to use my sickness as an excuse to open a conversation. (why, thank God I'm sick), when they could've asked me directly without bullshit, without all the crap.
I was judged harshly by people who only seem to know one side. The only side people like to read. I was being pushed into the you're-making-a-huge-mistake corner, and I need to see some sort of "light", it was as if I was on some delusional dream and I need to "wake up". I believe they still cling on to some idealistic pleasure of being meant to be means forever and ever, and I ruined that for them, and they want me to go fix things up and they want me to plead guilty and say I'm sorry for being a stupid piece of shit and go patch things up pronto.
It also seems that they want to make me pay, only because I was honest, only because I didn't want to lie to save myself or to save my face in front of my friends...
The only thing I'm sorry for is hurting him. I am not accountable to anybody else. If you want to hear an apology from me for you, go line up, I'll get back to you, or maybe not.
Being in side B makes you know who your real friends are. And I love them even more, with my life. I am thankful for them seeing both sides first before poking me with inquisitions and all the hoopla. They were listening, and that is the only thing I want them to do. Is to just listen.
~
Going through those sides were a roller coaster experience. Where one side is like going up slowly, and painfully, like waiting for an inevitable doom only to be racing down through all the spins. And the other is going through all the loops, sharp edges and dangerous turns, like awaiting for death.
Both praying for the fucking ride to be over.
There is no ideals in this story. No bull. Just the cold and brutal reality.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Early 2008 Birthday plans.
I, (insert my full name here), will go to Niigata to watch the 2008 Fuji Rock Festival.
AND NOBODY'S GONNA STOP MEEEEEE.
SCREW YOU ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AND NOBODY'S GONNA STOP MEEEEEE.
SCREW YOU ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Encounter with the boss
These were the few times I was able to have a chat with our Japanese Manager. This surprisingly, 40 year old man, trapped in a youthful, child-like soul. I told him, part-awe and part-teasingly how he looks around 35, or even 30, maybe because he feels young.
He shrugged his shoulders with a touch of boyish shyness and said, Maybe.
He's been all over the world. Portugal, Spain, Mexico, France, Japan, Philippines, Hawaii, Bali, and all the places he mentioned that I didn't quite comprehend. It was fascinating.
And hello? When will you even see your boss ride the waves using a short board? Totally awesome if you ask me.
I wanna be like him. By the time I reach 40 I want to have traveled some parts of the world. I guess that dream never went away. No matter how shitty or how crappy life may be. Be it if I was single or attached, to see unknown places is a part of me. An old dependable friend.
But to be able to travel, I have to be able to be free.
Hopefully I will be.
He shrugged his shoulders with a touch of boyish shyness and said, Maybe.
He's been all over the world. Portugal, Spain, Mexico, France, Japan, Philippines, Hawaii, Bali, and all the places he mentioned that I didn't quite comprehend. It was fascinating.
And hello? When will you even see your boss ride the waves using a short board? Totally awesome if you ask me.
I wanna be like him. By the time I reach 40 I want to have traveled some parts of the world. I guess that dream never went away. No matter how shitty or how crappy life may be. Be it if I was single or attached, to see unknown places is a part of me. An old dependable friend.
But to be able to travel, I have to be able to be free.
Hopefully I will be.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
photographs and memories
I may sound like a weenie, but I missed having a digital camera. Since the Cebu trip ended I had to give the Canon Ixy 60 back. So I'm left with basically my 2mp Sony DSC-P31(?!), or the LCD-retarded Canon Powershot A95.
Obviously, I am not a professional. I am not honing for a DSLR anytime soon (but it would be cool to have one in the near future if I've grown sick of the p&s or I find it's capabilities not enough), I still have a hard time remembering what the aperture does (hihi, he'll kill me for that one), and I remember conversations over coffee and lenses that left me a bloody nose. It was fascinating and yet humbling.
I am more of an enthusiast. I love photography and I miss taking pictures of everything and anything that comes along my way. Especially now when I was armed with knowledge that I didn't know before, I felt like there was something missing.
Human subjects are a really complicated and yet fulfilling to shoot at, I remembered when we ha d a group meeting, and I was there snapping pictures using the viewfinder, everything came out crappy (lol), since the viewfinder wasn't the exact thing you would see in a lens, but each time you point the camera at them their naturalness (?) fades away and suddenly they feel being inspected and probed at.
This is why I stick to non-human subjects. Like food!
Obviously, I am not a professional. I am not honing for a DSLR anytime soon (but it would be cool to have one in the near future if I've grown sick of the p&s or I find it's capabilities not enough), I still have a hard time remembering what the aperture does (hihi, he'll kill me for that one), and I remember conversations over coffee and lenses that left me a bloody nose. It was fascinating and yet humbling.
I am more of an enthusiast. I love photography and I miss taking pictures of everything and anything that comes along my way. Especially now when I was armed with knowledge that I didn't know before, I felt like there was something missing.
Human subjects are a really complicated and yet fulfilling to shoot at, I remembered when we ha d a group meeting, and I was there snapping pictures using the viewfinder, everything came out crappy (lol), since the viewfinder wasn't the exact thing you would see in a lens, but each time you point the camera at them their naturalness (?) fades away and suddenly they feel being inspected and probed at.
This is why I stick to non-human subjects. Like food!
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
old friend.
I took off from work early to seek some green pasture. It's been a while since I've roamed in the streets of Makati and all it's petrifying, awesome glory. The tall buildings of steel and glass, the old buildings of concrete and cement, the roads lined with trees and crudely done plastic stars that was adorned from trunk to branch, the seemingly missing electrical posts smartly hidden deep below the streets. The underground passageways leading to every corner of Ayala avenue.
The supposed "mock" interview took about an hour. And it was conveniently located behind philam life.
There was this friend that I have missed during the 8 months we were apart. The last time we met was valentines day. He was off to the US and when he got back I was on my way to Cebu. It was about time I paid him a surprise visit.
I walked in the classy, sophisticated building and left my id and headed up to the 16th floor.
The guard was there and I asked if he was still there, so he called up his cubicle and asked for Jr, then he told me that I was out front.
I went in their lobby, with the sleek green seats and waited for one of my most favorite people in the world.
He got out, wearing his usual green striped polo and slacks, he looked at me and smiled a mile wide and we hugged tight laughing after being separated for 8 months, it was nice to see him again.
We talked while he and yanyan smoked, and he went to send some e-mails and we took a long walk to the mrt station.
It was 30 minutes of endless chitchat. We were squeezing all what we could in that short time until we meet again soon for another dinner session. He was mostly listening to me talk. With all my giddy laughter and my cursing. While he gave out inputs and such and shared some of his own stories.
We got to the station, shared one last hug and promised to meet for dinner soon.
The supposed "mock" interview took about an hour. And it was conveniently located behind philam life.
There was this friend that I have missed during the 8 months we were apart. The last time we met was valentines day. He was off to the US and when he got back I was on my way to Cebu. It was about time I paid him a surprise visit.
I walked in the classy, sophisticated building and left my id and headed up to the 16th floor.
The guard was there and I asked if he was still there, so he called up his cubicle and asked for Jr, then he told me that I was out front.
I went in their lobby, with the sleek green seats and waited for one of my most favorite people in the world.
He got out, wearing his usual green striped polo and slacks, he looked at me and smiled a mile wide and we hugged tight laughing after being separated for 8 months, it was nice to see him again.
We talked while he and yanyan smoked, and he went to send some e-mails and we took a long walk to the mrt station.
It was 30 minutes of endless chitchat. We were squeezing all what we could in that short time until we meet again soon for another dinner session. He was mostly listening to me talk. With all my giddy laughter and my cursing. While he gave out inputs and such and shared some of his own stories.
We got to the station, shared one last hug and promised to meet for dinner soon.
Friday, October 19, 2007
moderately alive
I got back to work in Manila after a week of being sick. Hence it was another week of a "vacation" which wasn't really a vacation. a vacation means mimosas by the pool, sex on the beach at the beach and maybe good food and friends, but no, I was stuck just eating porridge painfully, bleeding sores, and sporting a lovely fever.
note the sarcasm.
What else is there? Aside from the current state of limbo with regards to the new project which will be starting November, nihongo lessons at it again. There is nothing new.
Since everything seems to know what the world is up to anyway :)
note the sarcasm.
What else is there? Aside from the current state of limbo with regards to the new project which will be starting November, nihongo lessons at it again. There is nothing new.
Since everything seems to know what the world is up to anyway :)
Friday, October 5, 2007
The world spins madly on...
There are times words fail me. And in those times I am in my most vulnerable or lethargic state.
I just got back from the farewell + birthday treat of my groupmates. Which was a surprise since we were supposed to be treating them.
The little gesture touched me. Deeply.
My days in cebu are numbered. and I am trying to fit in everything that I can. Today's release day, a get together dinner with friends, and maybe a little something more.
Despite the stress, the mind ache, there is a dull, almost repetitive pain in my chest. Nothing in the physical, but an emotional turmoil that I know would eat me alive in the coming days when I reach home.
I want to try and stop time, even for a single moment, just to gather all my thoughts and collect them and nurture them in the dying corners of my mind.
But to my horror and dismay, I do not have such a power. And while I weep and while each day I die a little more, the world spins madly on.
I just got back from the farewell + birthday treat of my groupmates. Which was a surprise since we were supposed to be treating them.
The little gesture touched me. Deeply.
My days in cebu are numbered. and I am trying to fit in everything that I can. Today's release day, a get together dinner with friends, and maybe a little something more.
Despite the stress, the mind ache, there is a dull, almost repetitive pain in my chest. Nothing in the physical, but an emotional turmoil that I know would eat me alive in the coming days when I reach home.
I want to try and stop time, even for a single moment, just to gather all my thoughts and collect them and nurture them in the dying corners of my mind.
But to my horror and dismay, I do not have such a power. And while I weep and while each day I die a little more, the world spins madly on.
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