in these white shoes...

Digressing,I won't post or comment much about the newly-elected president here. It's enough that others are still complaining in status messages allover Facebook.You won't hear me rant about the other candidates here,either. I'm only hoping for the best for this country.And maybe a few miracles, too.

Going back, all these distinctly Pinoy elements are solid grounds for creative minds to cultivate even better things to talk and write about. One thing I really admire about us Pinoys is that we never lose sight of humor in the midst of chaos. We always find the funniest, most hilarious things in even the tightest and most serious situations.

After hours of searching twitter and facebook for examples.....

http://yoopee.tumblr.com/post/586875720/pcos-machines-twitter


Now enough of that, just hit me with your best hirit of the elections. And it would be a plus if you're a HUGE Bob Ong fan. If your entry is the best and most original, I'd let you pick among any one of Bob Ong's books as a prize. Yes, even the upcoming "Ikawalo" when it hits bookstores. (Books are subject to availability)

I always spiral down to the old habit of "not blogging", and truth to be told, I don't like not being able to blog for so long. I feel useless...like my brain is stagnating. But who or what do I blame when inspiration escapes me like a thief in the night? It's always like, I'm almost there, the idea is almost kissing me in the face, then when I start to open my page, poof! (it became koko crunch!..yeah yeah...corny much?) ... Maybe I'm just too scared about what people might think about my opinions...Heck, I shouldn't be pleasing each and everyone in the room, right? That would sort of make me lose my identity and guts. So, I'm letting go of what's holding me back...but I'm leaving with a few disclaimers:

* If you think you're the one I'm talking about, THAT'S WHAT YOU THINK.
* If you think I'm harsh and criticizing, you haven't been to or heard of boot camp.
* If you think I'm crazy doing this, I'm dating the Cheshire Cat...( He thinks "we're all mad here.")
*I won't apologize if I know that some human committed an utterly "human" offense, and I talk about it...anything that is below bestial act is forgivable..so you'd be able to move on after I talk about it..so I might as well talk about it.Whatever.

The above mentioned are subject to change without prior notice.

I hear your voices in the distance
Is it me you're calling? I'll never know
Outside my window I only see darkness
My heart sinking as I hear the people cheer

In my loneliness, you're a glimpse of happiness
Alas! If only I could see you now...
You soar up high with each resonating sound
With twinkling lights that finally fade into oblivion

You have always captured my breath
The beauty of your dancing lights, they lure me
But now I cannot see you
No matter how hard I try

How I wish I could see you again..





*sniff*...wala lang jud ko kita sa fireworks...nasalipdan sa uban mga buildings...huhuhu

infatuation can make even the most intelligent person illogical...at whim it can make the emotionally stable suicidal...the one with 20-20 vision, severely blind...the cautious, careless and foolhardy...

who's with me on this one?

Still recovering from my looong vacation stupor, I managed to scavenge the maternal ancestral house with the old books I used to take with me to the loo when I was between the ages 7 and 11 (i got my first teen mag at 12..so you can figure out what happened after that, and yes I DO read in the toilet hehe)...one of these books I brought back with me to Cebu. The book had short biographies of many outstanding people in history. So far, the only biography I've ever read from this book was that of Helen Keller's. Why I never managed to move on from her story, I really don't know. At 7, I had no idea who Lou Gehrig, Robert E.Lee, Mohandas Gandhi, Edgar Allan Poe, Anna Pavlova, or Florence Nightingale were. I only cared to read Helen's story because of her beautiful portrait shown in the book,perhaps enthralled by her charming face and beautiful dress , and the only thing I remembered about Florence Nightingale was that she had an owl named Athena...and yes, I learned that from a caption of her portrait,too.

Today, I flipped through the book again, and discovered that more than decade after, these names have become familiar to me. Who hasn't heard of Lou Gehrig's disease? Who doesn't know of Gandhi and his works? Who hasn't read Edgar Allan Poe's mysterious and dark literary contributions? And to nurses reading this, haven't you had enough hearing about Nightingale already?

I picked Mozart from the Table of Contents.. I was hungry for the feeling of awe and amazement. He was a child prodigy.Perfect.

To make the long story short---and no surprise--I didn't manage to finish Mozart's story. I was too bewitched by the idea of playing the piano again. I couldn't anymore remember the last time I spent hours pounding the keys, and the sheer joy I experienced upon completing a piece. At first, I tried to pacify the feverish longing with some daydreaming while iTunes did the playing for me. But the feeling of excitement didn't escape me until the wee hours of early morning. Having spent most of the afternoon and dinnertime with Keith, my number one lover (haha..sobrang cheesyyy..), I was left until midnight to hunt for my old piano books.

Lost in a random pile of beauty magazines (really, how my priorities and interests have changed over the years!), I found four of them, along with some printed pieces: Fur Elise, Ballad Pour Adeline,Turkish March, Cannon in D...

I stared at the Ballad Pour Adeline piece for a moment...Ten pages...Having only gone through about five grades (based on how many books you have completed), playing the rest (and the hardest parts) of the piece was not yet my battle. And I wasn't ready to bore my brains out with Fur Elise. A piece I had overplayed. Turkish March...too fast. Cannon in D...too Korean novela-ish. I resolved to playing the lessons in my old books. Being lost in trance-like moments, the fumbling to find the right key, the stopping mid-piece because it didn't sound right...they all came back to me in a flash flood of recall. It was like being lost in wonderful reverie.

A good read, a piano piece, a gentle caress on the piano keys...things I have taken for granted for so long. Old lovers I have almost forgotten.Old lovers that brought simple yet unceasing joy.Old lovers that provided unfathomable revelations to the soul.

When I take off my uniform at the end of the day, with renewed fervor, I look forward to embracing my 0ld lovers again.