Prudence and Madness

Mood: Crestfallen; sometimes dispirited; tormented by a splitting headache
Music: Tell Me Where It Hurts by M.Y.M.P

Text quote for the day: “I’ve realized that life is indeed full of contradictions. Sometimes it’s crazy to be sane. You need to fall to fly. People suffer because you care. You have to unlearn to know the lesson. You have to give up because you are strong. You have to be wrong to make things right. Nonetheless, life’s complexities are also life’s source of beauty. We should cry to laugh again. Fall apart to be whole again. And get hurt to love again.”

My reaction: THAT IS SO DAMN BULLSHIT! HAVEN’T I BEEN HURT ENOUGH ALREADY? IF LIFE IS LIKE A WHEEL, THEN MINE’S A FLAT TIRE.

* * * * *

Question: If I’m a girl, can I get a gay guy fall in love with me? Or should I become a hard butch first before he notices me?

* * * * *

Naiinis ako kapag…

…habang naglalakad, sa harapan ay may isang grupo ng taong (halimbawa, 3 o 4 na magaganda pero maaarteng kolehiyala) naglalakad ng slow motion habang okupado nila ang buong corridor. (“Huwag n’yong ipagmalaking mga payat kayo dahil katulad ko din kayong umookupa ng espasyo. ‘Hoy, hindi ninyo pag-aari ang corridor!”).
…may nakikitang nanay na magbibitbit ng maliliit na mga bata para sumakay sa LRT sa panahong napakaraming tao’t nagsisiksikan sa loob na parang mga sardinas at pagkatapos ay magrereklamo na ‘wag sumiksik dahil naiipit ang mga anak niya. (‘Misis, sentido common po ninyo ay nasaan? Sana ay nag-jeep na lang kayo.’)
…matapos magtanong sa saleslady kung meron sa kanyang mga paninda ‘yung hinahanap ko ay sasabihin niyang wala ng ganun pero pagkatapos ng kaunting paghahanap sa istante ay makikita kong kay dami-dami pa palang stock. (“Miss, eh, ano’ng tawag mo dito?”)
…sinasabihan ng “bakit wala ka pang boyfriend?” o “paano ka magkakaasawa kung hindi ka magpapapayat?” ng paulit-ulit (“Tama na ang isang beses. Nakakarinig naman ako…”) ng mga kakilala’t kamag-anak tuwing may reunion o party. (“‘Di bale na pong hindi makapagpakasal kaysa naman magkaasawa akong katulad at kamukha ninyo. Parang kay guwapo/ganda/sexy ninyo ah kung makapagsalita…”).

Ipagpapatuloy…

Got a lot of thoughts running around my head…I hear buzzing all day long and yet, here I am, writing naught. Feeling a bit disorganized lately. Can’t keep up with my review schedule. Just wanted to listen to Dream Theater, Sarah Mclachlan, Kitchie Nadal, and MYMP every minute today (and probably until tomorrow).

Wait, just have to pull out a thought here…a silvery one. Dropping it on the Pensive…

Others will call this laziness. But, really, this is deep thinking. I believe Garfield would have said that.

Sometimes it’s just great to do nothing. Just to relax, and think of random thoughts. Laugh all by myself like a lunatic. Sing my favorite songs with no thought if I’m hitting the right notes. And dream. Dream. Dream. Dream.

There is no stopping Time. Hell, it will not stop for anyone. (Well, perhaps only for God, wherever he may be…whether He is Time Himself or all together a different being…or whether He is bigger than Time…).

How I wish Time would stop for a little while…or slow down a bit (but then maybe it would mean Constantine made a house call in Hell again. Tut, tut.). Just enough for the moment to fantasize about the delicious things I want to do: be in a skimpy bathing suit working as a PR person in a funky beach resort, driving fast in a convertible during sunset , play a hauntingly sad piano in a lonely mansion, sleep the entire day away and be up all night bar hopping…(C’mon, where’s my O2? Damn, smoker or not, everybody can develop lung cancer. So, fuck off give me my O2…)

Aaaaahhhh…not all the best things in life are free. But at least I get to dream.

Silence is a Mirror,
a wakeful mind in the night.

A vast desert of skeletons,
with wind that blows whiffs
of bone dust and core.

Of the Mirror, many
are afraid;
afraid of the darkness
whose hand claws, clutches
at their heads,
pulling them to peer into
the Mirror they do not want to see;
not to gaze at winged creatures
they were taught to hide;

terrified of their own nakedness;
the wild knowing in their eyes.

the symphony of crows in their voices,
the blood and dirt of their hands,
the smell of leather and bone,
the coarseness of crushed skulls
grinning underneath their feet.

See no evil.
Hear no evil.
Speak no evil.

And many were afraid,
of the Mirror.

And they prayed for sandstorms
that will cover with Earth
the Mirror they are afraid of,
and take them up
to the bright firmament of forgetfulness
called Reality.