caught "Ang Nawawala" for the third time. "an initiation to my world", I told her. she gave out a muffled laugh. I am Jerry Seinfeld to you. but you don't know him or me for that matter. does it matter? it has been 2 months since the last... nawala ka. 2 sticks in Edsa kamuning. we're not allowed to hazzard here. why not? we are hazzards in our own right. stopping by danger signs her migraine is killing the momentum but it was a fateful turn that allowed us to be here for I trimmed my nails clean with my teeth a few hours ago so I can ran it through her forehead without hurting her. just me. I did both unhesitatingly.
My gums are blushing with excitement upon hearing that friend Bongkee dela Torre is going to lend me three of his analog camera for my Anawangin getaway this weekend. It has been a while since I installed a 135 mm film at the back of a smooth plastic camera and the rush is just killing me even just by thinking of it. Think the musky scent of a favorite hardbound which you accidentaly found in a forgotten bookstore. The anticipation of guilt-free sex. A plateful of keema being readied after a long ride to West Avenue. 'Ganun.
I first used a borrowed fisheye2 two years and it resulted to a couple of excellent albums (check my facebook photos) before it was taken away from me by its rightful owner. Sigh.
I was given a Smena Symbol as an xmas gift from a family member which I gave up eventually after a year because I was in the verge of a financial turmoil. I shed tears on that decision literally.
But enough of the sob stories. I'll be posting the evidences of my analogue camera de-virginization in a week or two. For now, these are my xmas wishlist. Who knows, you might just be kind enough to give this freeloader something to blog about: SPROCKET ROCKET
A wide angle panoramic viewpoint. with sprocket holes. a dual winding knobs that enables double exposure. and a cool cool look! FISHEYE 2
What can I say? first love never dies. And having a variety of designs instead of the black and white variant made it more desirable for me for I am not, to put it bluntly, your usual neutral-colored guy. LOMOKINO
I have a storyboard in my mind which I like to put to life for Your Imaginary Friend's song Nikita using this baby. It's gonna be a lot expensive since a 35mm-36 shots film will capture only approximately 30 seconds of footage, but I don't know, I think it's worth the hassle. Techies will always be rallying against this expensive, impractical habit but only on this small window in life do I think that nostalgia and sentimentality is put to good use. Besides, who doesn't want a color-splashed life?
To be able to read articles written about you and laugh at those silly observations the students clinged on about your talk and performance. All your life you thought your words are empty and now you are being quoted.
To be overwhelmed by the fact that your band's fund raising project is nearing 50 percent this early. You kept pushing for that belief that your band is worth listening and it seems more people are agreeing.
To be excited of new music from The Killers, The xx and Minus the Bear which you can't wait to consume and digest and let it penetrate you to newer musical heights.
To slowly consider the option of moving to a new apartment.
To be able to drink your HBP maintainance meds and still stubbornly ordered a plateful of chili sisig.
To be able to calm yourself after a dizzying morning and accept the fact that maybe Ang Nawawala is not ready for her this time..and that Ruby Sparks might just do. (but you're still crossing fingers..but not that tightly)
To be able to contemplate the corniness of buying flowers...and admitting that there are times that a little corniness is welcomed.
To catch an unexpected half-smile specifically targered for you from that girl at the IT department.
To finally found real friends in the workplace who think you are worth the cents and company -- bringing you with them to Anawangin free of charge is one unbelievable proof.
To learn that your youngest daughter landed 1st honor even without studying and continually being a popstar-wannabe with her throaty rendition of an Adele and Pedicab single. it's in the genes baby.
To say yes unhesitatingly to your eldest daughter on her plea for independence (in this case, to spend lunch time at their school), making her giddy with excitement and making your heart dance to a Van Halen song.
To be able to smile and not smirk after giving in to forgiveness twice last week.
To learning to enumerate what you see and feel without resorting to poetry and psychological jargons.
To hope for better days like today, and better paychecks -- FOREVER.
It doesn’t really show in my haggard face since I only had 3
hrs of sleep (downed 4 red horse and one super dry last night at the Popshoppe –
felt a gritting hangover the morning after) and I need to offset 3 hours tonight
for my Masteral classes this Saturday. But I really am.
First, my band and I will go on a movie date for Marie
Jamora’s excellent opus Ang Nawawala in Megamall tomorrow. We are that sweet. The
four of us decided not so long ago to spend ample time together doing mundane
activities so that we won’t be just another band whose only connection is
music. Somehow it did improve our relationship with each other. People tend to
underestimate the dynamics of being in a band. It’s not all technicalities. You
have to live with each other's differences. You need to stand each other's annoying perks without
affecting your work ethic. You say marriage is hard? Try being committed to 2
guys and a gal. It needs lot of hard work. 4 years in the box and we think we’re
still happy as a bumblebee. We’re going to be off to Saguijo after the movie
for the Revolver gig.
Second, only 3 days have gone and our artisteconnect project (http://www.artisteconnect.com/projects/your-imaginary-friends-silence-is-a-villain-ep)
has already reached 24 percent. 32 people have pledged and we are positively expecting
more. I am honestly overwhelmed by the sudden surge of interest. Hope we reach
at least 50 percent so we can slash a big chunk of our expenses. Making music
and recording it in a quality studio is not a cheap past time. This is definitely a big pat on our shoulder to still do what we do.
poster by Em Aquino and Pau Dela Torre
Third, I organized a gig this Saturday at Black Bird cafe called
“Something About Doors” where Your Imaginary Friends will be playing with our
brother bandsRandy Corpuzand Dirty Hate. One bad ass family in
one roof! Plus, my side project indie folk band Everyday, Airplanes will have their debut performance that night. I
play the ukulele in this project. Not doing the cute, Jason Mraz style, thank you very much. We can’t afford the banjo so my little guitar will do for now. We have
rehearsed 3 times in the span of 3 months. I hope our lazy asses won’t
disappoint those curious ears. And I
hope our Caucasian friend Steve (which the gig is dedicated to – a sort of
farewell party for him) will find time to attend the gig.
2 songs are down for the new EP of Your Imaginary Friends, 2 more to pin down and we’re still debating the 5th song. Go for an indie pop ditty to
balance the stark heaviness of the theme or cap off the album with an ambient
noise gem for a cohesive finish? Either way, the band is excited of the
direction that we are slowly progressing to. Can’t wait to let everyone hear
the finished product.
Girls complain about not finding straight guys that are good-looking
enough for their taste yet they judge you when you try your best to do it the
American way by being upfront of wanting to meet them. It’s a cultural thing,
you say? I refuse to accept gray areas. Those are for lazy asses who want to
rationalize everything with a comma.
Either you act conservative or are open to letting people
enter your life. It’s not as if guys are always nurturing evil intentions. What
about fate? What about taking actions for stars to align? David Pomeranz crooned a hell lot about those topics that you unbashfully wriggled
badly on your prom nights. Then we hear complaints
for lack of romantics out there. Phew. Humbug.
After a debate and thorough analysis of a modern Filipina’s
psyche with my good friend Sheanne, I decided to message this new girl from the other department. It is an
experiment to see if meeting people here is easy (and well, the wrinkle on her nose when she smiles tickle my fancy). The message was simple. A typical “Hi” letter without the cringe-worthy
clichés. Not too pushy, contains self-deprecating punch lines and a sweet plea for
a possible reply.
Nil.
I remembered approaching a cute, curly-haired stranger with
a ponytail near the boat station in Brgy. Hulo 2 years ago. She was obviously
waiting for someone probably more repulsive than me. I stood there, approximately
10 meters away from her, careful not to look suspicious by scrolling my ipod without
any certain search criteria. After 20 minutes of acting nonchalantly and arguing
with myself, I decided that I’ve got nothing to lose by asking her name and her
number. Besides, I’m just another face with a goatee in the sweaty crowd of
Mandaluyong. She said her name hesitatingly but refused to offer her number. Surely
enough, I became another face in the crowd.
I am now 80% convinced that
without alcohol or a default setting where you are introduced or forced to be
acquainted, you will never have luck with a girl in Manila. Where's the other 20%, you might ask? Well, didn't I just mention something about those poor romantics?
All you have to do is pledge an amount then confirm your support by checking your email and clicking the appropriate link. The project description will tell you all about what you need to know about the band and the new EP. SHALOM.
I know there’s a thin line between being overly preachy and being
someone who waits in the sideline to be that one cushion to break the fall of a
friend who lost her way, but I guess I’m not made for this shit.
That’s another problem: my being empathetic. You swallow her
pain and go through the same ordeal without actually being there. Your job is
being objective enough to figure out the script. You become that nosy neighbor,
feeding her commentaries of what will happen. And she will take it all in, and
eventually hate you for it. She doesn't realize you were there all along, dipping yourself into the molten lava of HER emotional turmoil. Then you will be proven right about those little things that you were pestering her about. Darn. The science of “I
told you so”.
I’ll let you in in a secret: I am almost always right.
Righteous yes, but debatably true (that's why the use of "almost" is necessary). It doesn’t apply to whatever
I’m going through though. It’s like being a therapist to your own dad. It is
emotionally impossible. You can’t really be objective about anything that will hit you in the hypothalamus.
But that’s
the perks (or curse – depending on how you see it) of being a psychology
graduate. You read actions. You count patterns. You label movements and predict
possible end results. People will call it paranoia at some point. But in the
end, you will be proven right.
And when you are with someone you adore and love, you just
loathe being right.
I have three passions in life:
Music, Poetry and Psychology. The pen has been my best friend ever since I
discovered the Guns N’ Roses and Nirvana discography in sixth grade. I started
writing my own songs instead of drawing robots and trucks, making me different
from the other kids in school.
I eventually learned poetry interpretation in my
3rd year in high school (thanks to my hot English teacher Ms. Fullero)
which led me to despise clichés even more. The mystery of emotions and stories
behind words are just difficult for this brain to pass up. I continue to write my abysmal brand of poetry
to this day.
I was planning to take Creative
Writing in college but my mom did not approve so I gave in to her wishes and
settled for my 2nd choice: Bachelor in Science Major in Psychology. I
convinced her that I was planning to take up Law or Medicine after. Of course I
was lying. Though, I did not look back. I was always fascinated with learning the
hows and whys of behavior and personality. That also explains my fascination
with the eccentricity of musicians and serial killers.
I play music. A lot. I am in a
band called Your Imaginary Friends. I call it my catharsis, relieving me from
third world stress and unburdening my senses – served better with a bottle of
beer or two.
I get excited like a sissy boy
over her high school crush whenever I discover new bands. I’m like Bishop from
the X-men, feeding from the raw energy of new music. It makes me write more –
giving me the sense of competitive energy to do an imaginary response to every
great song I hear. Like Brian Wilson doing Pet Sounds in response to Revolver.
I cringed. That was a little over-the-top.
Can’t put it any other way though.
My choices of movies vary from
drama (Jerry Maguire, Lost in Translation, Closer), talkies (Clerks, Trainspotting) to comedies (High Fidelity, Mallrats, Annie Hall, Anchorman). I pick substance and a
great script over CGI effects any day. You won’t see me getting excited about
car and war movies too
I can be a little lame. Well not
just a little – I hate sports. Guess I grow up too much on 90’s teen movies to eventually
label sports as some stupid jock’s signature activity.
And yes, I AM BORING. you. In this literary. Literally.
