Ayoko na, quit na ‘ko.
Alam ko, may anim na buwan pa ‘ko. Pero ayoko na, quit na ‘ko.
Ang hirap naman kasi. Masyado kang mayabang. Ako rin. Akala ko kaya ko, hindi pala. Naaliw lang ata ako sa mga narinig kong kwento. Kaso mukha namang kwento lang yung mga ‘yon. Drawing. Masyado ko nang pinapahirapan ang sarili ko. May easy way out naman. Dun na lang ako.
Quitters never win. So what? Baka naman ayoko talagang manalo.
Kaya ayoko na, quit na ‘ko.
For seven years I went about, day and night, with only one thing on my mind — her. Were there a Christian so faithful to his God as I was to her we would all be Jesus Christs today. Day and night I thought of her, even when I was deceiving her. And now sometimes, in the very midst of things, sometimes when I feel that I am absolutely free of it all, suddenly, in rounding a corner perhaps, there will bob up a little square, a few trees and a bench, a deserted spot where we stood and had it out, where we drove each other crazy with bitter, jealous scenes. Always some deserted spot, like the Place de l’Estrapade, for example, or those dingy, mournful streets off the Mosque or along that open tomb of an Avenue de Breteuil which at ten o’clock in the evening is so silent, so dead, that it makes one think of murder or suicide, anything that might create a vestige of human drama. When I realize that she is gone, perhaps gone forever, a great void opens up and I feel that I am falling, falling, falling into deep, black space. And this is worse than tears, deeper than regret or pain or sorrow; it is the abyss into which Satan was plunged. There is no climbing back, no ray of light, no sound of human voice or human touch of hand.
Henry Miller. Tropic of Cancer
Wawa Dam, Rodriguez, Rizal
At this point in the existence of the Earth,
What is expected of me is to take the role
Of not only being a caretaker
Of the seas, the land and the skies,
With all of its rich endowments,
But also a healer of the Earth.
As I receive from the Earth,
So must I give in return to replenish it.
Therefore I pledge to be more of the Earth
Than a mere keeper by being a protector than a user.
Constantly nurturing the environment to a state
Whereby development compliments and not destroys,
Always mindful that the very things
That I do or don’t do, directly or indirectly
Affect the harmony and balance of nature
And can spell the difference.
Further, I pledge to take responsibility
To purposely direct my efforts
Towards the preservation of the gifts of the Earth.
The Priceless treasures owned by Humanity for all times.
This commitment I make on behalf of
And for the sake of Tomorrow’s children.
Naisip ko na kung ba’t maraming naka-pula! Chinese New Year nga pala! O sige heto, para sa lahat ng intsik at sa lahat ng paboritong kulay ang pula:
The music beckons as the song begins. As you dance and sway to the rhythm’s beat. You give yourself to the master’s hymn. But when the music stops, you’ll have a broken heart.
And it’s called love. It’s called love. The strongest morphine you can find. It’s addicting, it’s sedating, and it can make you lose your mind. It’s sedating, it’s addicting, and it can make you lose your mind.
So I dance alone to a dying song. That has stilled my heart and has made it cold. ‘Cause words have lost their meanings and all that I am left with are distant memories and echoes in the wind.
It’s Called Love. Color It Red
An excerpt from a book I’m currently reading:
After some years I realized I’d landed myself a major drinking problem—a device for coping with life’s endlessly long days. I truly wondered if I was in some kind of coma myself, shambling through life with an IV drip filled with Scotch. My twenties were vanishing.
Ick!
May soundtrack ang buhay ko. Seryoso. Isang kanta lang na paaulit-ulit kong naririnig. Ni hindi ko man lang yun gusto. Ni hindi ko man lang alam lyrics nun. Pero paulit-ulit syang tumutugtog sa utak ko. Parang sirang plaka. Parang CD na pinirata.
Sabi ng mga psychologists mas malaking porsyento daw ng kinikilos natin ang idinidikta ng subconscious. Yung mga maliliit na bagay na hindi natin napapansin. Yung mga hindi natin alam kung bakit natin ginawa, o hindi man lang natin alam na ginagawa natin. Pati na rin yung mga bagay sa panaginip natin. Pati na rin siguro yung mga kantang tumutugtog ng paulit-ulit sa likod ng utak natin.
Dalawang linggo na ata ito, hindi na sya normal. Kung meron akong piso sa bawat ulit na narinig ko yung kantang yon, ilang kahang beer na siguro ang nabili ko.
Buti pa, bumili na lang ako ng iPod. At least mapipili ko pa kung anong kanta yung kasama sa soundtrack ng buhay ko. Kesa naman ganito, puro ikaw na lang yung naririnig ko. Nakakasawa na. Tumigil na sana ‘to.
Naka-blue naman si Ryan.
Ito ay isang walang kwentang post, kaya ‘wag nyo na itong basahin. Nagsabi lang kasi ako kagabi kay Ryan na maglalagay ako sa blog ko ngayon ng post na ganun yung title. Baka naman sabihin nya wala akong isang salita. Kaya heto.
Walang kwenta yung UP Fair! Pahirapan maghanap ng alak. Beer nga lang iniinom ko, wala pa. Buti na lang andun si Bidz. Mabuhay ka Bidz!
Beer daw ang sleeping pills ko, sabi ni Tim. Kaya pinadalhan nya ako ng kanta. Heto yung ilang linya:
One may think we’re alright, but we need pills to sleep at night. We need lies to make it through the day. We’re not okay.
Hindi ko naman napakinggan yung mp3 na pinadala nya. Sira laptop ko eh. Next week na lang ‘pag napaayos ko na.
I have to find the passage back to the place I was before.
Yan yung sinulat ko dun sa pulang lobo na napulot ko sa Sunken kagabi. Pula. Lahat ng bagay pula. Lahat ng tao naka-pula. Ang sakit sa mata. Buti na lang pumutok yung lobo. At least nabawasan ng pula.
You know what I hate? Australia. And France. Palawan, I hate a little too. Likewise, Davao and Quezon Avenue.
Bago pumutok yung pulang lobo sabi ko kay Ryan sulatan din nya. Write something profound, sabi ko. Sinulat nya, “I’m drunk.”
Ayus.
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