'Cross the Threshold

Alice came to a fork in the road...
"Which road do I take?^ she asked.
^Where do you want to go?^ responded the Cheshire cat.
^I don't know,^ Alice answered.
Then said the cat, ^It doesn't matter.^

This day, God opened more than a thousand windows. It was to say, in a thousand unspoken words, that a chance is given in replacement for a door he never opened for me.

I saw my grades for the 2nd semester of A.Y. 2005-2006. No failures. And I^m happy, atleast my dad won^t have to criticize my involvement in debate, and not blame all else.

I miss my mom, and that is fairly unusual for my perspective. I never had a good relationship with her, but for some reason, I^ve started to miss being with her. Now that I^m all grown up, -- and I mean that on a mental note -- I^m starting to realize how hard it was for her. Things always appear in a complete whiteout in our family, and she always had to go through a lot. Not that I care less about my dad. I also feel for him in some way.
The most difficult part of life is having no one but yourself. And I guess, my parents, my siblings and I, all have to live through that twinge of reality.

***
Blinded.
I even had to grapple the fact that I am never to acknowledge love. Although my words, my thoughts, my diseases surround its frailty, I am but an anonymity to its own being. So lately had I come to the stirring truth that a score shall always be that, and shall never renew itself.

Each overture of that sickness, I am now bound to take unequal understanding. If I fall hard -- with pointed rocks to seize me from below -- I always take four years to recover. Four years.
To recover misery, but never to cure my revolting blindness.

Now, I had to lift myself up, and derive beauty from inkless pens and scratched papers. That is where I began to dismantle the soreness that I thought would never evade my memory.

Delusional. Insane. Ardent to know nothing but to see through errors, and not live without them.
And with these, I fashioned my new self.

Never to grow up, but has lived ages of creativity.

Paper, Paper, Paper

I am restless yesterday, and even more so today. I just had a couple of meetings last Sunday and Monday with the Thomasian Debaters^ Council as an official member of their organization.
So.. I lately realized how I greatly suck in adjudicating. I had to adjudicate three consecutive rounds of debate (for both days)-- that is me having to criticize people way better than me, and getting thrown with nasty looks saying, ^Oh, you just try..^ But that^s how it is, I am now to be an adj for the Inquirer Inter-collegiate Debate Championship (and that also means getting a good chance to try-out for a slot in Asians).

Problems are sprouting like leaves of mongo seeds intoxicated with Giberellic Acid. I need to find money to pay for the registration fee for IIDC, and more money to make me survive the upcoming days of training.
My dad^s being such a pain in the ass for not wanting me to pursue debate (he says Law is just for my guy cousins -- just how sexist can he get?). Anyhow, I still have training this afternoon at Kuya Iggy^s place, and I still don^t know where to get money to refrain from scavenging for food there. That is, me, not wanting to depend on others to pamper me all the time, just because I^m a new kid.

***
This heartfelt leap I surrender.
Arms raised tonight.

So, good news. I am now the new English Literary Section Editor for CSJ. I got a call from my EIC last night, and she told me the wonderful news while my mind was already half-asleep. She asked me if I wanted to take the offer, and I was like, ^Hrmm.. Do I have to think about that?.. Okay!^ (if you know where this line came from, I just love our compatibility!).
So, what to say, opportunities are passing by in a hurricane these days. I only have one problem..
Yes, that.

When Not to Say More

Right on. I wonder why the sudden evolution of my former batchmates in high school.. God forbid. From autism to pretense. Still no change, just advancement to more pathetic and more pitiable lifestyles.
Advice: Just stop trying too hard.

***
Star City it is!
Peamy, Karla, Yen, Nikki, Andre, Gelo, Mae, Michael, Marra, Tim and I were desperate for a fresh start of summer vacation. And so we ended up spilling dirty water on our uniforms while spending the afternoon (and night) in Star City.
..and proud to Jologs!

Lesson learned, not to go to the Lion King boat-slash-trip-slash-storybook ride again. Aside from torturing yourselves to the excruciating attempt of lion mascots badly portraying Simba, you leave the place with a wet ass due to the ramshackle boat, which changes direction contrary to the waves of the river -- hrmm, imagine that!

But anyway, unfortunate night. Nikki, Andre and I were left with three tokens when everyone else in the group decided to go home. So we ended up having a stupid wager (my idea, indeed stupid): the three of us will each sing a song in the KTV room, and whoever gets the lowest score shall buy drinks for everyone. And so much for my very bad rendition of Whitney Houston^s I Wanna Dance with Somebody (although Andre was more terrible with his Paraiso bit, haha), I got the lowest score and was soon buying Gulaman for the two very lucky boys.
I should^ve just shouted all throughout the song. I could^ve had a good chance scoring a hundred then.

***
I love, love Urbandub. Better hear their new single.
First of Summer.
I marvel at the sound of rare virtuosity in Philippine music.

Railways and Edges

Classmate: Musta test?
Me: Mwahaha, andali lang!
Classmate: O? Sabi nung iba ang hirap daw ah!
Me: Ganun?(napaisip) Kinabahan tuloy ako bigla..
Classmate: Bakit naman, akala ko nadalian ka..
Me: It only means.. either I answered the test correctly, or I made a guessing game out of it (thinks harder) kaya pala ako nadalian!
Classmate: (laughs) Well, that explains everything.

Oh no! But hell, I don^t think I guessed all the answers. Not in the lecture test.. okay, maybe a little in the lab. But I found it easy, really I did. And somehow, I think I^m confident with most of my answers. Wak, defense mechanism!
Moving on..

***
I downloaded a new software in my PC so I could download more MP3^s (and hopefully not as obsessively as my dad).
The pilot run was smacked with ten songs at once. Hekhek, prepare to crash.

***
I still haven^t studied for any of my two tests tomorrow, and I^m damn sure I^ll be getting a healthy karma for being so slothful this supposed study-for-your-next-exam-tomorrow-or-else night. Agh, I am wasted as hell!

So anyway, I was browsing through the Internet and came across this wonderful poem in Jeanette Winterson^s website. Title is Rough Guide by George Szirtes.

Your image destroys itself, remakes itself, and is never weary.

[Octavio Paz, The Prisoner.]

Impossible to look directly into

another^s eyes. Impossible to look

into your own. You read the dense book

of being like a document you flick through.

Eyes, even an inch apart, are blurs,

clouds, like the concept of yesterday

which has an entity you sometimes stray

into beyond the limits of his and hers,

The unknown: the roughest of the rough guides,

and all it says is: you^re here, you^d better make

the best of it. You entered by mistake

and so you^ll leave. It^s what the route map hides

and languages obscure, the magnetic pull

of all you ever see of the beautiful.

****
But I have seen the beautiful. I know

its contours and the rough guide it provides

is blissfully specific: the hand that rides

the ridge of the collarbone or moves along the brow,

the perfect form of momentary light

in this line or another. It^s what Blake

saw at the top of the stair, the terrible earthquake

at the root of the flesh we think of as delight.

It^s what you see when you shut your eyes and see,

the angel with the whip or a flaming sword

that burns your eyes down to the spinal cord,

the shit, blood, semen smell of mortality

you get used to because it follows you

everywhere and is both beautiful and true.

Sweetly rich in beauty. Now that's hands-on review for real Literature. (atleast Octavio Paz is included in our test tomorrow.. is he?)

Over Untamed Frustrations

I am wasted over coffee and formulas of Analytical Chemistry. Gawd, now this is stark geekiness. Dang.
This day is not as productive as I hoped it would be. Blame it on the massive pigging out -- again. And so I should learn to hate food, which is like having to engage in mental conflicts with myself to stop gluttonizing over unnecessary viands. One is enough.

I studied for Chemistry for like ten minutes before typing this post -- and I^ve no idea how that^ll work for me tomorrow, hopefully prayers will.

My dad^s been obsessively downloading all episodes of America^s Next Top Model Season 5 (yes, my father, you read that right) and Grey Anatomy (a good series, something similar to E.R. -- with the paranoid doctors and all; he says it^ll serve as an inspiration for my vocation to be a doctor -- what the..??). Beat that?

So far, Sheer and I were able to pin up all posters for the Playwriting Competition and Debate Summer Training this afternoon. We didn^t have any formal proposal for the summer training, and yet Ma^am Beth signed the flyer (I hope the Dean won^t mind). Go loiter around the third floor and spot some of our ads (that^s forced appreciation on your part -- the ads ate up all our ink!).

I was watching Utada Hikaru^s Unplugged episode in MTV (taped live years back), and man, I felt my heart do a somersault. Her voice just floats, heavily, and drops like an anvil in between your sick ardor. Agh, and she killed me with that rendition of U2^s With or Without You (and that is me not telling you that it^s the hundred-and-uncountable time I^ve heard that song).
Mavy is currently frustrated for not being born with such splendid flair.

So anyway, if you haven^t a clue of what I^m talking about, view this.

Fancy, not.

Another week of no post.
Mirage was released last Friday. Not really proud of my works there, I found them rhetorical in an uncanny way, if you know what I mean. Anyhow, the semblances bit didn^t come out as I wished it could^ve had. Hopefully Momentum will be better for me. (Although I do love the Elope poem.)
If you were able to grab a copy already, give me some concrit in the comments part of this post. Oh, and go read the editorial part. I am a fan of my EIC.

This past week, I was successfully able to pass two Chemistry laboratory quizzes with exemplary remarks. However, Im not that sure about the results of my Biology tests. More than hopefully, they^ll turn out well.
I was also able to do seven designs of posters for the new College of Science Debate and Drama Society (CSTP, reinvented), as well as the Debate Team^s letterhead.

Oh, and another thing, I watched Just Friends in pirated VCD today. The effort of the actors to portray teenybopper lovebirds was something I found, well, overdone with in the entertainment scene. Same old guy wanting to be more than friends with a girl (fails at the start, and unsurprisingly wins the girl in the end), and girl-next-door depicting a so-so lifestyle with overly enthusiastic folks.
And just think how Filipinos always copy this genre of filmography when they should be aiming for better ones, say, Vendetta (which my sister said was politically interesting).

Tomorrow will be the start of finals for some people (those who^re taking up Botany). Yet I^ll just be loitering around the hallways and searching for the teachers with whom I need to settle some of my acads with.
I hate the last part of semester.

A piece of luck: Study.
And if that^s not enough, study harder.

Surrealism, A Thing for

Rain centered towards the afternoon sun today. Weird. Maybe flies are being wed.. Or so the superstition goes.

Test-taking got postponed again. Biology teachers love giving their students a head-spin. I haven^t loaded up my phone credits yet, just because I do not feel the need to. My blood calls for caffeine, not a textmate.
I^m thinking if I should start buying time to sleep. Ignoring the ironic presupposition that I will not be able to achieve rest even through hours of lying in bed; I^ll bargain all my jadedness for that.

The other day, one of my classmates got an unexpected answer for his, well, unexpected question. I tell you, life has the most bizarre quirks a mentally-retarded person could even envision in his mind. You get damaged at the safest place of your system, of your very -- maybe uncontrolled -- ground.
Unusual.

I lately acknowledged the reason for my photo fetish -- although not in an erotic way. I have this fixation on stillness and surrealism, things I rarely see (save for Deviant Art^s) emblazoned truthfully in faulty lenses of normal cameras owned by, yet again, normal people.

I am tired.

Raging Creations

Just finished my email task for Technical Writing class. I realized I have a lot of work to do this weekend, so I need to start doing them one by one. I better start doing the Bio Powerpoint report after writing this.

So much for being OC (said twice, pronounced ok-ok by Kat and Nino). I made a debate statio for our team. *smiles at my OC-ness* The other day, I was watching AMV^s on YouTube. I miss YuYu Hakusho (-- is my favorite anime of all-time!). I was briefly fed with visions of Hiei, Kurama and their secret (not) Yaoi relationship.

I stayed up till 3am this morning, not due to the insomnia (which is now gradually fading), but because I slept from 4pm-9:30pm upon arriving home from school. And that is me not minding the fact that it was brownout then (meaning no air, no light, no decent siesta).
I surfed the net while eating barbequed chicken and java rice from Aristocrat^s and staining the keyboard orange until I felt like sleeping (or sinning sloth even more). I came across this striking poem by Stan Rice:

IN AN ARTIST^S EYE

By the time you are twelve your affections are fixed.
Then come the decades that roll your heart like a cheese
In the sea. Yes, it is surreal.
Then you are twelve again, and old.
And you find the waxed red ball of your heart on the shore.
And you are not surprised by anything now except
You should love at the end what you loved
At the beginning.

*envies the beauty*
Go read more of his poems at my Glitch page.

New Skin

I told you I won^t sleep anymore.
But I did and I lied.

Our org logo rocks. Err, for the parliament division, that is. Take a look. Im a fan of Michael (The artist, whom I^ve been bickering endlessly to finish making the drawing, thank you very much. He really should be in another building. Oh, do take me with you!) Mavy -- frustrated artist.

So what the hell. The new format is so-so. The blogskin^s not compatible with the format of my previous posts (that explains the ^ in place of the apostrophe sign), but I love the techno look. I numbed my butt last night -- that is me, sitting in front of the PC for three straight hours and customizing my Blogger template. The outcome? Still a bit crappy, but good enough.

My caffeine intake is on an uphill these days. Maybe it has something to do with my recent lounging (that is quote-unquote, see, I can^t even do quote symbols on these things!) in the CSJ office. Our EIC is the number one coffee addict in the building; caffeine equals water.

I got a very good score in my Chemistry Lab quiz this morning. Thanks to Nikki^s patience, and constant squabbling, of course. I just need to pass two more, after which, I need not worry about failing the subject.

And so Im about to start another paragraph on how I miss training -- again. I bet people are starting to get bored at reading my entries because I rarely talk about more significant things, err, other than debate -- and myself, of course *grins*. But I do miss debating (see, here it comes), and, in a higher level of rustiness, Im bound to collect bewildered looks on the break of my next speech -- which, sadly, will be witnessed by no less than TDC members.
Lately, Im being haunted by the thought of taking Law after graduating from Biology. Quite a sky rocket off the center of the sky.
But I need to work. I need money. I need my own life.

Our supposed quizzes-taking (take note, quizzeS) got postponed last Wednesday. I should^ve just attended the awarding ceremony at the Med Audi. I could^ve gotten the chance to fluff my ego along with Kat and the other members of the Parliament. Sadly (not), I was already home, sleeping sound on my Mickey Mouse bed.
Anyhow, there^s still Biosoc on Friday. That is, if I get my invitation soon enough.

Sleepy, still.
Light transcends.

Affliction of Some Sort

And I told him that pianos were made to know black keys, not to forever embrace white.

Just a New Description I made for my journal. I miss writing creatively.
Im writing like we don^t have two quizzes for our majors tomorrow morning.
Im not in the mood to study right now; my mind is in catharsis -- necessary purgation, please.

Due to utter boredom, I was able to finish reading two books last weekend, not to mention the new fanfics Kat had recommended through spam email.
Philippine publications, Catch a Falling Star (I forgot the author and am too sluggish to raise my butt from the chair and go find the book inside my room) and Eating Fire and Drinking Water (--again, authorless for now).
Im not really a fan of Philippine books, save for those written by Jessica Zafra and Jessica Hagedorn (this doesn^t even count because her books are published by international companies). If you love for-grade-school-book-reports type of stories, go read the first one. But if you^re the I-feel-intellectual-and-mature type, go grab the second book (I take it as part of the journalistic fiction genre, which of course doesn^t exist). Or vice-versa.

Yesterday, my EIC spilled me with some bad news. If not for this pending amendment in the CSSC constitution, I could^ve had a better chance of being next schoolyear^s English literary editor. The revision strictly states that a student may only be elected as officer for one organization. And even if the amendment^s yet to be approved, she thinks it fair that either way, she^d need someone who^d be more holistically dedicated in serving the journal. Although I feel I can do both jobs effectively, I didn^t want to pry myself too much for the position. But nonetheless, Im still distressed. More than being an officer in CSTP, I really wanted to be a section editor for the journal. But not that I regret having been inducted as CSTP^s secretary, I just feel it more in my heart to be a sec.ed., that^s all.
So much for having two different passions.

=(

Impeccable Talents, I must say...

Finally. So much for last Thursday^s divine intervention and theatrical event. I mean, what the hell? Some people are in need of a beating. Hekhek. In Kat^s words, ^Your tears don^t move me.^ -- so better cut the crap and stop staging a declamation in front of us, because we are -- in no way -- impressed by your act.

I am frustrated for wasting tears for those useless morons. Nevertheless, they should be congratulated for they^ve successfully fumed me with rage. *Mavy -- gnashing her teeth.* Geesh. You should know that I absolutely despise people who backstab my friends (if you do have plans doing that, make sure I won^t have a way of knowing it). I don^t care if you have nothing to do with your life, but I^ll make sure to hunt you down even till both of us reach hell. In short, I^ll kill you.

Anyhow, the new Executive Board of the College of Science Theater and Parliament kicks ass. Not to mention, Im part of it. Harhar. But besides that supercilious remark, believe that to be true. We (mostly Parliament peeps, and Sheer) have lots in store for the coming year; most of which would be so beautifully executed, the others would surely rot in envy. We^re no good in power-tripping, but when responsibilities are given to us, we make sure they^re done impeccably. All hail Krista for that wonderful speech that left all of them flabbergasted and wordless.

***
So, Im back to pigging out.
We won in our Softball match with the 1-3 class today. They^re sour losers, and Im so proud for having irritated them so effectively (I even saw one of them look at me with such resentment after the game). To hell with bitter people -- that, of course, does not include me. Hekhek.

***
I need to start arranging the previous files of CSTP (so much for being a secretary, I should learn to love this job!). So far, I was only able to sort them into two envelopes: one^s for the letters, and the other one^s for the non-letters. See how good I am? *beams*
I also have to start making a website for our organization. I dunno which one^s better: a yahoogroup or a forum? I think the yg^s are better for file and photo-storing, whereas forums don^t have such designated sections -- although they have bigger web spaces.
I better start experimenting on those two. I still have more than two months before the official start of my term (or is it supposed to begin now? ;wak!).
By the way, I utterly detest the upcoming CSSC. May God have mercy on them. I could only pray for honest and accountable leadership, but Id understand if He'll have a hard time giving me that.

It^s hard to change people.
Ergo, better just leave them to rot in hell.

Setting a Sleepy Mind

I hate reading H/D fanfics, most especially the good ones. I end up not being academically productive for that particular night. My only break is for me to write a new entry in this blog. Still, it^s about them.

Thanks to Kat, once again, for informing me that Amalin has changed her LJ site. Go click her name in the list at the right side of this page to view her new one. *_*

Some lines that just won^t leave me be:

• ^Because there^s a fine line between love and hate,^ his breath hitches as Harry mirrors his caresses, ^and I thought we might be able to blur it.^ -- Gracefulfool, Definitions
• ^It^s a promise. Every sunrise is a promise of a new day, and a confirmation that tomorrow has come, and will come again. Sunset is a betrayal.^ -- November Snow, Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow
• ^You will be my endless suicide,^ whispers Draco, and sleeps. -- Furiosity, A Glass Fairytale
• ^My smile...?^ ^So... so perfect. It makes me want to throw myself under a train.^ --Aja, Love Under Will

Okay, enough of the spamming.
After two days of constant storytelling in front of the main building^s security guards, I finally found my school I.D. Thank God!

We just finished our defense for CWTS a few hours ago. Boredom.

Greggy^s doing well. Turns out he^s a she. Oh well.
Still fits.

Plans for next year^s SDS are on the go. Can^t be more excited.
I really hope Asians will push through for May.
Im sick and in need of debate.
I was arguing while doing the defense awhile ago. See the aftermath?

Anyhow, my mind doesn^t really work coherently right now. I just wrote four poems for Mirage. I do hope the new ones get published. I seriously need more time for the journal now. I^ve not been performing that persistently as before -- it^s a self-evaluation.

Gawd. Sleepy now. I still have to wash my uniform. Better post this now.

Something Fishy

What to say, everyone^s going ballistic because of the not-so-sudden turn of events. A commander was ousted, the Philippines is under the state of emergency, and our president^s out in the streets mingling with the “selected” poor as if nothing^s happened.

Anyhow, enough about politics.
Yesterday, Nino^s team bagged the trophy for the championship round of Dialectics ^06. Couldn^t be any prouder for him. ^_^ Pecto also won the 2nd overall best speaker title. Just enough for his constant ego-fluffing. Krista also did so well as one of the quarterfinalists of the Public Speaking Contest. Im so happy that Science is really leveling up with the other teams who joined the competition.
I^ll be missing debate a lot. That is, for the next few weeks.

I^ve finally decided. Im joining TDC by the end of this schoolyear.
TDC is absorbing both Science Teams A & B, as official members of their organization. Im floored for getting a lot of invites (especially one coming from Ate Cy -- TDC^s current trainer and this year^s Dialectics chief adjudicator).
Kat and Dennis will be joining as well.

***
I bought a new pet, a fighting fish I named Greggy. Go figure.
He^s for our lab experiment on Wednesday, however, I decided to buy him a home and keep him for good -- that is, if we^re not told to dissect him.

A seemingly abrupt shift to my academics is killing me.
The unconscious me is still arguing about uniform curriculums and terrorist organizations. Heh.

I just watched Munich a couple of hours ago. Another attempt of Steven Spielberg in the Oscar scene to remake the genre of his old movie Schindler^s List. I loved the goriness and the authenticity of the film. It^s beautiful, especially if you happen to understand the history behind the Israel-Palestine Conflict, the PLO, the Palestinian Authority, and a little of Hamas.
It^s an awesome flick to watch, especially if you^re matterloading. Sometimes, killing ain^t bad, most excusably if someone mocked you first. I was enduringly fascinated by bomb-making tactics, and Im sure you^ll have that same feeling once you see Eric Bana^s colleague making grenades in sync with televisions and bed mattresses. Makes you want to sleep inside the cabinet instead. Heehee.
But it^s a must see. And frankly, I loved it more than Brokeback Mountain – in an epic way, just the same. Ooh. (Although it did lack the character-centralizing that Ang Lee^s so good at -- Mavy worships.)

Go watch.

Monster World

Whatever happened to nationalism? If Jose Rizal were alive, he would^ve frowned at the elite-not sight of each urban street nowadays.
No classes yesterday, not even this morning.
Politics in the Philippines is never great. I don^t know if the crab-mentality of Filipinos pays off sometimes, for we never really had a good president. That is, of course, not minding the fact we^ve had a democratic system for twenty years now. The blame should go to everyone.
The Hello, Garci scam is but a mere end of a pitchfork that barely touches what^s beneath the haystack. We vote them, we place them there. We never are contented, are we?
Even if we scratch off half of the cheated ballots, have we ever asked ourselves, what do we do to correct the mindset of the other half who really picked the wrong? What do we do afterwards; do we advocate another icon in the entertainment field?
Or do we even think of what to do next?

EDSA Revolution was born to take witness to nationalism, and not to chauvinism. It is but mere tradition, or worse, habit for people to immediately resort to ^People Power^ so as to grasp at a hasty solution, a change much deemed for than the development of our society. But imagine a yearly escapade of rallies in EDSA so as to celebrate the so-called democracy in this country.
History would simply turn meaningless if priceless holidays are turned into everyday events.
That is what you see in the streets today.
We always want a solution to each problem. That^s only normal. But what we lately realize is the evident possibility for some of these ^solutions^ to be problems themselves. We never pause to wait, to endure the occurrences that are happening. We easily forget that it was us who let them be, us who created them. In return for neglecting such sacrifice, we toil our lands each day without any direction, and still with no profound progress in neither our economy nor any other aspect of our nation, just the same.

I wouldn^t go all inspirational here. I only want to acknowledge the problem floating in the polluted air of the Philippines. Solutions? I honestly do not know any effective way to rid us of all the delusions, or point forward, to alleviate people from poverty.
I^d never start describing the characteristics of an idealistic venture and a utopian society, for I do not know what makes either one.

I roughly remember this certain line by Michelle Yeoh in the movie Memoirs of a Geisha, ^We^re not geishas because of our desires, we are geishas because we have no choice.^
Ermm, I guess same goes for being a Filipino. I know I am bad at parallelism and I acknowledge that pretty imperfection. Yet I guess that^s how we Filipinos are. We always want things our way -- bad president, get me a new one! We can even compete with children^s tantrums for new toy airplanes. Okay, enough of the analogies, Mavy.

But so we remain standing, yet still divided by countless desires. If only perfection is easily attained -- if it does exist. After all, we never really stop thinking about our personal wants, it^s innate in the Filipino nature.
A stress on my belief: Solutions will come for us, so long as we learn to bear with time and wait.

There^s still time. So be it.

Vendo Assassination

I hate vending machines and how they malfunction at the wrong time, and at the wrong person. Imagine, having forty bucks left in your purse, and all you wanted was to awaken your mind with a ten-peso worth of caffeine. The supposed hi-tech food giver eats up your twenty bucks and in less than a minute, dawns you with two awful news:

1. No change.
2. No coffee.

Ergo, its laughter reverberates like ^a living thing^ inside your frustrated mind.
It^s official. Now, you only have a twenty-peso bill to suffice your necessities for the remaining days of the week.

***
I may not be that high-end in my academics, but I sure do know how to study well. If so just to give myself the bliss when it comes to working with extracurricular activities. Even though most, if not all, of the time I come home really late and with my eyelids half-covering my eyes, I still manage to make studying a dispute within myself.

If I can do it, I don^t see any reason why others cannot do that for themselves. Let alone the fact that I have more things at hand than any ordinary student. And I wouldn^t even have to stress that with an example, just my being irregular tells a whole lot about what I have in store for me each day, and even each night.

I guess we do have responsibilities, different ones, to attend to. Something we shouldn^t merely depend on others or for our peers to compensate with for us. After all, it is something you owe to yourself; straightforwardly said, something you should atleast try doing on your own.

***
What^s with Commerce debaters, or people, in general? It seems that most of my debate friends in Science are getting titillated at the sight of their parliament members – call it odd similarities between all of us.
Ermm, although Im still not that sure if I should be counted in on that.

I badly miss training. I feel my neurons corroding in their current stagnancy. I could only let Nino borrow my matter and watch him train for the quarters. I couldn^t even read some for my own fulfillment, for, of course, it^d only be so silly on my part.
I wouldn^t be debating on Sunday, anyhow.
(Atleast there^s food, though. And that is enough reason for me to be there.)

Sheepish and Content

I was finally able to watch Brokeback Mountain last Friday night (and that was after the hilarious performances in Science Week^s variety show). It was a good flick. Wasn^t wasting a single cent from my pocket, or from Carrie^s, that is.

Why are you sleeping on your feet?
I wish I knew how to quit you…
Jack Twist was gay sugarcoat in the making. I just can’t help but love him.
When do you get the chance to be loved by someone so deeply, that even you can^t bear to find the means to unfree yourself from his embrace? I usually choke at cliches, and I never did like the concoction of sheep, sceneries and gay cowboys. But where did it lead me?
Brokeback Mountain. My feet in between the ashes and remains of Ennis and Jack^s memories.

Simply stated, a movie that tells you how identifying love is parallel to accepting the reality of your emotions. How love is never about mainstream sickness, but differences fathomed by the human heart.

***
I remember asking myself, is there a price to pay for wanting more than the ^should-be^?
Indeed, you can never have everything.
No one can.

The last two were, as clairvoyantly said, my last debates. And I doubt at the possibility of future consolations. Even jams are analogous to trash for me these days.
Im happy for having gone this far. For being invited to join TDC, for being part of Science Team A, for being trained as one hell of a whip! Im proud to carry the battle-cry of my college of which that says they, debaters or not, should definitely not argue with us.

God, will I miss the trainings. A month, or probably more, of no blood circulating in my system, no passion to satisfy my inconsistencies. *sigh*

Nikki, Nino, Krista, Allen, Kat, Em, Julius, Carrie, Den-Den, Pecto, Jhunnie, Stephen, Vinz. I could go on for ages if I^d try typing all your names. But just a promise here, we’ll see better debaters next year -- all of us besting each and every unbeliever of our capabilities.
*damn* There goes Dialectics, right past my foresight.

Here’s to unsweetened victory.

The Cow has a Barn

I have two stupid questions: Is toothpaste edible? If it is, would you die eating a whole tube of it? Just some products of boredom.

Okay, so it’s nearing Sunday again. I better start pounding my head on the wall to make it function well in the last two debates. Atleast, I think they’d be my last. Team A had a pep talk last night, had to address some of the “issues”. Hopefully, the next matches would be effortlessly brushed off.
We need to win.

***
I’m watching Brokeback Mountain tomorrow, before or after training, with the CSTP guys (and girls). Talk about matter-loading for minority rights and sex education. *claps* I have to commend Heath Ledger in advance, for the awe-striking performance. Jake is such a loss for girls. Go figure. Oh, and Anne Hathaway seems pretty convincing with a sluttish personality.

I can’t decide whether I should start studying for my laboratory practical test tomorrow or Saturday night. Clearly, my brain cells won’t be functioning effectively then. Call it pre-Dialectics jitters.

***
Too bad I wasn’t able to pass the requirements for the National Writers’ Workshop last 15th. It intentionally slipped out of my mind. Maybe I was too busy with debate. After Dialectics, I seriously need a lot of catching up to do. From chemistry, to the journal, to the cookbook, to Dan Brown and finally to the flicks’ list. Someone put toothpicks in between my eyelids!
And I almost forgot the speech for the testimonial mass tomorrow. (yells frantically)

Happy Post-Valentine’s everyone. Be sure to make up for all the losses and to pat yourself on the back if you’ve achieved otherwise.

An Essay to Love

[I've a weird way of writing. Bleh. Take it as it is. A price is given to one that understands.]

Sometimes I write against used tissue papers, the pen blotting the ink to form the insignia of your name. We’ve grown too old to listen to fairytale endings, yet too young to realize they don’t exist.
So where do I start an essay to love? – a love that is flourished in a passion that is long dead.

I am indifferent… ignorant to the syllables of that familiar call. I tell them I’ve never known you, not even if the moon eats your shadows to recoil. We’ve set up boundaries… distances of far away bridges that never really taught me what it is to forget you.
When I play with the cracks of parchment on black tint, I am reminded of your bluntness. Something that never gave me pure acknowledgment and willingness to be an apprentice to your truth.
Do we write messages on sand? The waves have wounded their right to blistering permanence; I told you that the sky was randomly vandalized ever since.
So which are you – the cluttered clouds on Sunday mornings, or the painted canopies of naked women? You never did make sense, didn’t you? You did.
So I start my worship to your inevitable greatness; one that sucks at my scarlet proof. I lay before this hour without ever undoing a mistake of forever blinding you.

This is my heart. A wretched bewilderment to my scatter, to my drug.
An essay to love defeat.

Splintering in Valentine’s Eve

I get tired easily.
Just because your hands are attached in a way that laces farther than my anonymity. I think of how I’ve grown to revive a ridicule; a satiric verse that’s nothing but a tentative bunch of words to me.
Differences are hindrances. But I beg to clinch at their superb being. The irrationality makes me believe that there are more than just a thousand ways to build a road towards – below and above – who you are. Opposites attract, probably in physics, a course I loathe with all the damages in my brain. Now, where do I place myself?
To see you in the eyes of another’s is but the easiest manifestation. I am insane… and am rudely proud to be one.
But you are refined as glass. I took the breakage, a fracture insignificant to bitterness and passion. Somehow probing into the illusion that you are never here, although everything – including my mind – tells me otherwise.

© Mavy 021306

The Beauty Criteria

Two days and counting. Dialectics is shadowing my footsteps, as Sunday tension creeps on my back. Do I even have time for myself? – I haven’t got a word for that.

We won against TDC Open Team C yesterday. The motion had something to do with the Muhammad cartoon, which is currently causing riots in Islamic countries and Denmark. Ate Cyris adjudicated the debate.

Lately, I’m being so capricious on printing and collating my matter for debate.

***
Campaigning period for the College of Science Student Council has turned into a friendster-slash-icon-ng-agham phenomenon these past few days. I have to immediately apologize to Cory – in case you’re reading this post – because she’s part of the COMELEC; no offense. I’m just beginning to wonder if the essence of leadership’s been sucked up not only in our national government, but even in small councils in schools. I mean, for crying out loud, we’re not voting you based on a beauty criteria, but on your supposed wits. Apparently though… (not to be continued.)

Mind you, I'm not generalizing. On the contrary, I am voting a couple of them, although I hate exercising my right to suffrage. I've completely lost the acknoledgement of its significance.

***
I died for a second. There’s a legend to his eyes.
Something that kills me each time I gaze at its pertinence.

I’m happy that each day I’m able to get a glimpse of him. Even if they’re but mere glances from the corners of my eyes. Atleast he does the same.
I’m not happy how days unroll like sand from an hourglass. Gradually, I grasp – it just cannot be.
Please aid me; this is an aggression.