to...
Gray Is Too Loud
20060309
Squash them like bugs! SQUASH THEM NOW!
Ok, I won't hang myself... I'LL HANG THEM INSTEAD! No, hanging is too humane... I want to turn them into tiny bug-like organisms so that I can step on them with the heel of my shoe. Step on them and go round and round! I'll pour a gallon of gasoline over their gooey and green remains and set them on fire so that nothing will be left of them but ashes... I'm soooooo pissed. Fcking pissed.
I'm sick of their pompous heads, so full of themselves.
They've developed an acute sense of superiority, that since they're so smart, they can do anything they want. That anything they do is RIGHT! Right?
I'm complaining... YES I'M COMPLAINING! I'm complaining because no matter what I do, certain people will always tell me, "Suck it in and live with them." Since I can't change them and their convoluted ways, I'll just splatter my thoughts all over the place... Loudly.
Oh, by the way... one person I'm yapping about is a teacher.
I've been cursed to have subject teachers that would make the ugliest devils cower in fear or laugh like crazy. I know I'm not alone in this world with teachers like these. Let me just put it this way: she looks 30-ish, is suffering from, I believe, PMS... Permanent Menustral/Pre-Menopausal Syndrome... single...
I'm jiggling with annoyance... I don't know how to straighten my thoughts. If I'm going to think about her more, I'm going to explode. Wasting her time, she says? If she only explains those parts that can't be explained by the reporter instead of launching into a reprimanding session, then the world could possibly be a better place. But nooooooo...... I'd like to kick her bottom... if she ever has one.
*BOOM!*
I'm sick of their pompous heads, so full of themselves.
They've developed an acute sense of superiority, that since they're so smart, they can do anything they want. That anything they do is RIGHT! Right?
I'm complaining... YES I'M COMPLAINING! I'm complaining because no matter what I do, certain people will always tell me, "Suck it in and live with them." Since I can't change them and their convoluted ways, I'll just splatter my thoughts all over the place... Loudly.
Oh, by the way... one person I'm yapping about is a teacher.
I've been cursed to have subject teachers that would make the ugliest devils cower in fear or laugh like crazy. I know I'm not alone in this world with teachers like these. Let me just put it this way: she looks 30-ish, is suffering from, I believe, PMS... Permanent Menustral/Pre-Menopausal Syndrome... single...
I'm jiggling with annoyance... I don't know how to straighten my thoughts. If I'm going to think about her more, I'm going to explode. Wasting her time, she says? If she only explains those parts that can't be explained by the reporter instead of launching into a reprimanding session, then the world could possibly be a better place. But nooooooo...... I'd like to kick her bottom... if she ever has one.
*BOOM!*
Mush! Mush!
I can't believe my blood-shot eyes! It's still 1:38am! And the rain, oh dear.
After one local show that features gory stuff every Wednesday night, I walked around the house with empty hands and a nearly equally empty mind. I couldn't sleep. I just HAD to do something that would rival the effects of two sleeping pills.
The thing that would lead me to this point I spied lying on a table, among manila paper, envelopes, markers, forgotten three-in-one coffee sachets, magazines, reciepts, and an assorment of more paper. It's a blue book that's long overdue. The owner hasn't bugged me about it, so I eventually forgot about it. I promised to return it to her wrapped with plastic. A promise unresolved for almost a year now. "Sheesh," I thought, "better get to work on that promise."
As I wrapped the book, I kept glancing at the green figure in front with a yellow star above her head. BANG! It was then I suddenly came to terms with myself, after years of alternately denying and approving it to myself, that I like mushy stuff. I like sentimental stories. I look for that giggling-kid-who-got-kissed-by-the-cute-girl-in-class feeling whenever I watch movies, whenever I read books. I picture myself as the main character, hoping that the events could happen to me in real life.
Heavens, help me. Have I turned into a corny bowl of mush?
Here, let me enumerate some examples from my list of favorite movies and books to give you a clearer picture (not arranged in any particular order):
1. Sleepless in Seattle
2. Bridge to Terabithia
3. Stargirl (this is the book, by the way)
4. Serendipity
5. Stardust
6. One Fine Day
7. Got To Believe (thanks, Jade.Ü)
8. How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days
... well, that's the least of it... you get the point, don't you?
Dr. Phil, where are you? I need to know if I'm still a guy! Or if this is just a pre-adult stage that would eventually die away....
*ahem*
Anyway, moving on...
The pressures of the final weeks of the school year is starting to grip my throat... and I can't think properly! It seems like there's a deadline to fulfill everyday and the only way to fulfill all of those is not to fulfill any and just drop dead right here where I'm sitting.
Expectations arise here and there, with myself and others... There's but three weeks to go and I feel like all hell is breaking loose and I'm first party to the ruckus it is causing. I'm gearing myself for the worst, if this still isn't.
Pre-summer days. Dammit. I think what's pressuring me is the required class I NEED (it's imperative) to take this summer... holy... That's more than a month taken off from what's supposed to be a time for rest, relaxation, and rejuvenation!
Boo-hoo. I might have to resign to the fact that after this summer is over, I would be looking ten years older than I should, with eye-bags heavier than ever...
I need to take a break... a long break from anything that's connected to school, if I'm to survive the next (and hopefully the last) year of school. There are times when I feel like it's finally over... only to find out that my troubles have just begun.
Hey, worse comes to worst, you won't be hearing from me in any blog of mine forever. And I might just turn that little flashimation up there into a reality...
... now, if only I could find a necktie striped like that... and a straightjacket, while I'm at it...
After one local show that features gory stuff every Wednesday night, I walked around the house with empty hands and a nearly equally empty mind. I couldn't sleep. I just HAD to do something that would rival the effects of two sleeping pills.
The thing that would lead me to this point I spied lying on a table, among manila paper, envelopes, markers, forgotten three-in-one coffee sachets, magazines, reciepts, and an assorment of more paper. It's a blue book that's long overdue. The owner hasn't bugged me about it, so I eventually forgot about it. I promised to return it to her wrapped with plastic. A promise unresolved for almost a year now. "Sheesh," I thought, "better get to work on that promise."
As I wrapped the book, I kept glancing at the green figure in front with a yellow star above her head. BANG! It was then I suddenly came to terms with myself, after years of alternately denying and approving it to myself, that I like mushy stuff. I like sentimental stories. I look for that giggling-kid-who-got-kissed-by-the-cute-girl-in-class feeling whenever I watch movies, whenever I read books. I picture myself as the main character, hoping that the events could happen to me in real life.
Heavens, help me. Have I turned into a corny bowl of mush?
Here, let me enumerate some examples from my list of favorite movies and books to give you a clearer picture (not arranged in any particular order):
1. Sleepless in Seattle
2. Bridge to Terabithia
3. Stargirl (this is the book, by the way)
4. Serendipity
5. Stardust
6. One Fine Day
7. Got To Believe (thanks, Jade.Ü)
8. How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days
... well, that's the least of it... you get the point, don't you?
Dr. Phil, where are you? I need to know if I'm still a guy! Or if this is just a pre-adult stage that would eventually die away....
*ahem*
Anyway, moving on...
The pressures of the final weeks of the school year is starting to grip my throat... and I can't think properly! It seems like there's a deadline to fulfill everyday and the only way to fulfill all of those is not to fulfill any and just drop dead right here where I'm sitting.
Expectations arise here and there, with myself and others... There's but three weeks to go and I feel like all hell is breaking loose and I'm first party to the ruckus it is causing. I'm gearing myself for the worst, if this still isn't.
Pre-summer days. Dammit. I think what's pressuring me is the required class I NEED (it's imperative) to take this summer... holy... That's more than a month taken off from what's supposed to be a time for rest, relaxation, and rejuvenation!
Boo-hoo. I might have to resign to the fact that after this summer is over, I would be looking ten years older than I should, with eye-bags heavier than ever...
I need to take a break... a long break from anything that's connected to school, if I'm to survive the next (and hopefully the last) year of school. There are times when I feel like it's finally over... only to find out that my troubles have just begun.
Hey, worse comes to worst, you won't be hearing from me in any blog of mine forever. And I might just turn that little flashimation up there into a reality...
... now, if only I could find a necktie striped like that... and a straightjacket, while I'm at it...
20060228
It's been a while...
really... a long, long while...
I thought this blog was dead... well, it's alive! I'm alive!
and the Philippines is cheating death... :P
I thought this blog was dead... well, it's alive! I'm alive!
and the Philippines is cheating death... :P
20060225
Kubeta Strikes Again!
Kubeta is all I could remember. A friend woke me with an SMS yesterday morning that had this word. My world was zooming in and out, as it had been for the past days when I first wake up. I felt sick. I didn't fully absorb the contents of the message. I couldn't care about a toilet. I went back to sleep.
I woke up again a few hours later, did my morning rituals, and went to school just like any other day. The noontime traffic was normal, the people were walking around as usual, and the world I beheld was as natural as the day before.
As I rounded the corner of one of our school's entrances, I noticed chairs and a television set-up beside the elevators. Numerous people were concentrating on watching the screen. Numerous people were being pictured on that screen; people carrying banners flanked by people sporting riot shields and batons. It was then that I knew that the day wasn't as normal as I felt it was.
A television means a special event, usually something affecting the school, or the nation. You see, the only times I could remember such viewing areas strategically put in the way were during the days of former President Estrada's impeachment trial, President GMA's State of the Nation Addresses, the last presidential election, and one important Jesuit celebration. There I was, thinking that it was only a special People Power anniversary.
A few more steps then my mind suddenly flashed back to the message my friend sent me earlier that morning. It could only emphasize one word: kubeta. Add that to the people that were marching and the news anchor that was commenting. Something struck me. Good lord, not kubeta. (Check the phone). Not the toilet. (Check the message). Kudeta. (Oh, my). Coup de etat. My friend was talking about a possible coup de etat.
I was shaking my head. Not again!
The week before, a mudslide claimed the lives of an entire town. Earlier, a killer stampede. Weeks before that there were bombings. There was an oil spill, a mining incident, a text scare, etcetera. Now Madam President declared the nation in a state of unrest. Ai-yai-yai. Here comes trouble. Again, as if the Philippines didn't have enough 'unrest' to wrestle with.
When the "Hello, Garci?" scandal surfaced last year, I adamantly refused to take sides after the issue subsided. If she stays in position, I would just have to deal with whatever would happen. If she steps down, I would just have to deal with whatever would happen under the next president's regime. My mind had been set for the worst because, if ever the worst happens, I could say I prepared for it. If the opposite happens, then I could rejoice that the worst didn't happen.
If the trend of rallies to overthrow the president continues, I could say that my decision hasn't failed. I'm simply waiting for the ultimate outcome, watching the people from a safe distance, a few feet away from the television screen.
I couldn't blame the people who flood the streets, shouting for a better nation, shouting for reform, and shouting for the removal of the President from her office. Neither could I place the entire blame on the President herself. I don't know what it takes to run an entire nation. It's just my opinion that problems like these couldn't simply be flushed down the toilet. The thing is that people demand their nation to change, and they sound like they want it to happen tomorrow.
A country can not change overnight. It's not feasible. Especially with a country that suffered two decades under a president's martial law, two presidents who tried to rebuild the nation twelve years afterwards, and two more presidents whose questioned reputations mimicked an electronic cardiograph monitor, albeit their repeated attempts to also make the nation prosperous. So what happens if this nation becomes sick of their president? They oust. They elect another.
A President is supposedly voted by a majority of the nation in hopes that her/his efforts would pull sinking people out of the mud and onto solid ground. The nation thought they voted wisely, again the tables are turned.
What then will happen if ever Madam President steps down? Can the Philippines keep trusting the next head of state to be the savior? Will it be another set of rallies and scandals and clamorings to oust the President? If the nation's state of unrest continues, will Dekada '70 happen all over again?
Recently, I've grown tired (and annoyed) by loud, distractive demonstrations which coincidentally happen beside our school, repeatedly asking for the same thing. This afternoon, they took to asking us students to join them in their cause. I had half the mind to do something crazy just for them to go away and leave us students studying in peace. The other half remembers their tired faces paradoxically full of hopes that this time, their efforts would trigger the happy ending they pray for.
Who knows? The nation's future may be bright, then again it may not. One day I might look at my kubeta in a new light and remember those people who raised their voices for a better nation. If worse comes to worst, it could trigger me to hold a banner and join the ranks of those flanked by riot shields and batons.
I woke up again a few hours later, did my morning rituals, and went to school just like any other day. The noontime traffic was normal, the people were walking around as usual, and the world I beheld was as natural as the day before.
As I rounded the corner of one of our school's entrances, I noticed chairs and a television set-up beside the elevators. Numerous people were concentrating on watching the screen. Numerous people were being pictured on that screen; people carrying banners flanked by people sporting riot shields and batons. It was then that I knew that the day wasn't as normal as I felt it was.
A television means a special event, usually something affecting the school, or the nation. You see, the only times I could remember such viewing areas strategically put in the way were during the days of former President Estrada's impeachment trial, President GMA's State of the Nation Addresses, the last presidential election, and one important Jesuit celebration. There I was, thinking that it was only a special People Power anniversary.
A few more steps then my mind suddenly flashed back to the message my friend sent me earlier that morning. It could only emphasize one word: kubeta. Add that to the people that were marching and the news anchor that was commenting. Something struck me. Good lord, not kubeta. (Check the phone). Not the toilet. (Check the message). Kudeta. (Oh, my). Coup de etat. My friend was talking about a possible coup de etat.
I was shaking my head. Not again!
The week before, a mudslide claimed the lives of an entire town. Earlier, a killer stampede. Weeks before that there were bombings. There was an oil spill, a mining incident, a text scare, etcetera. Now Madam President declared the nation in a state of unrest. Ai-yai-yai. Here comes trouble. Again, as if the Philippines didn't have enough 'unrest' to wrestle with.
When the "Hello, Garci?" scandal surfaced last year, I adamantly refused to take sides after the issue subsided. If she stays in position, I would just have to deal with whatever would happen. If she steps down, I would just have to deal with whatever would happen under the next president's regime. My mind had been set for the worst because, if ever the worst happens, I could say I prepared for it. If the opposite happens, then I could rejoice that the worst didn't happen.
If the trend of rallies to overthrow the president continues, I could say that my decision hasn't failed. I'm simply waiting for the ultimate outcome, watching the people from a safe distance, a few feet away from the television screen.
I couldn't blame the people who flood the streets, shouting for a better nation, shouting for reform, and shouting for the removal of the President from her office. Neither could I place the entire blame on the President herself. I don't know what it takes to run an entire nation. It's just my opinion that problems like these couldn't simply be flushed down the toilet. The thing is that people demand their nation to change, and they sound like they want it to happen tomorrow.
A country can not change overnight. It's not feasible. Especially with a country that suffered two decades under a president's martial law, two presidents who tried to rebuild the nation twelve years afterwards, and two more presidents whose questioned reputations mimicked an electronic cardiograph monitor, albeit their repeated attempts to also make the nation prosperous. So what happens if this nation becomes sick of their president? They oust. They elect another.
A President is supposedly voted by a majority of the nation in hopes that her/his efforts would pull sinking people out of the mud and onto solid ground. The nation thought they voted wisely, again the tables are turned.
What then will happen if ever Madam President steps down? Can the Philippines keep trusting the next head of state to be the savior? Will it be another set of rallies and scandals and clamorings to oust the President? If the nation's state of unrest continues, will Dekada '70 happen all over again?
Recently, I've grown tired (and annoyed) by loud, distractive demonstrations which coincidentally happen beside our school, repeatedly asking for the same thing. This afternoon, they took to asking us students to join them in their cause. I had half the mind to do something crazy just for them to go away and leave us students studying in peace. The other half remembers their tired faces paradoxically full of hopes that this time, their efforts would trigger the happy ending they pray for.
Who knows? The nation's future may be bright, then again it may not. One day I might look at my kubeta in a new light and remember those people who raised their voices for a better nation. If worse comes to worst, it could trigger me to hold a banner and join the ranks of those flanked by riot shields and batons.
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