Disforget

Warning: This post is unusually long. If you're not into reading long blog posts, do not proceed. If you are, then get yourself a comfortable chair. You'll need one.

I always had an eclectic taste in music. Unlike most other gay dudes out there who prefer high-pitched diva songs and popsy female vocals, I often find myself listening more to alternative rock bands, "emo" OPM acts and music that only straight guys would understand. Maybe this is the effect of spending seven years in an all-boys school where each first Friday celebration is accompanied by rock sounding mass songs... or maybe I was just born with heterosexual ears.

My usual Musikcube playlist is dotted with songs from many of my favorite bands: Spongecola, Yellowcard, Acceptance—to name a few. The emo sound really sticks to my ears, and I often find myself singing songs that would never give a hint of my sexual orientation.

But this post isn't about my auditory preference, but about one song from one of my favorite bands—the song that keeps on playing on my head; the song that I sing every time I board an FX home; the song that has kept me awake many nights, thinking and humming and introspecting.

That song is none other than Join the Club's Dekada (Nakalimutan Ko Na Bang Magmahal?).

***

I remember the first time I had a serious relationship: it was my senior year in high school. I rose from being a nobody to one of the campus figures—the one you see every morning and leading prayers, the one who asked you to rise and sit at every mass, the one who wrote the best documents for the student council, the one who introduced every guest, performer and activity during major campus events.

He was really more of a nobody. While I was standing under the lights of the follow-spots of the gymnasium, he was there among the multitude of students on my front clad in white polos and navy blue pants. We didn't share the same stage.

But to be fair, he did have his own stage. He was one of the best athletes in school, albeit not one of the well-known. Give him any kind of ball and you'll know he'll win. He could even beat me at table tennis if he wanted to.

We didn't really share the same space. His crowd, although not directly in opposition to mine, was not one of those that I hang out with. Unlike most of my batch, he was one of those freshmen transferees who never really fitted into the whole system.

I never really fancied him, nor did he fancy me (I think). All I know is that during our freshmen year, one of my close friends had a huge crush on him. But weird things happen. And come the third academic quarter of S.Y. 04-05, I found myself tied to him. We were the new couple... although no one knew except for him and me.

But it never turned out like the fantasies I had since I knew that I had a liking for men. And within three months, we broke up after an incident that is almost exactly like that in Jojo's "Leave":

Cause I know, about her and I wonder
How I bought all your lies
You said that you would treat me right
But it was just a waste of time.

It's funny that most of my friends only knew about our short-lived affair after we broke up. I guess we were good at keeping secrets. We did have casual sex every now and then after that, but we never really got back together, even if I have always wanted to. (In fact, I even wrote this post, which I reposted for the sake of posterity. And yes, it was a nasty post.)

I had flings and short lived affairs after that, but nothing serious nor long lasting. I guess I felt that that was my first, true relationship. And I never had another one since then.

***

Join the Club's Dekada has strong lyrics. Strong in a way that you either don't get it or get it completely as though it was written just for you.

Although the whole song is ripe with lines that strike the rusty chords of a loveless heart, perhaps the best line is from the chorus itself:

Nakalimutan ko na bang magmahal?

Join the Club has a track record for their songs dealing with the lives of broken hearted people—their band, after all, is a homage to the bitter. But this particular line has haunted me for quite a bit, because I have asked myself the same question for quite some time now.

***

Many of my friends who have not seen me for quite some time often begin our accidental conversations with the question:

"O, may jowa kaba ngayon?."

But for most of my close friends, this question almost never pops. I guess they know that I'm the type of guy who thinks boyfriends are like cellular phones—you don't have to get a new one every month. Indeed it has been quite some time since I last had to answer that question. I'm sure they know that if I had one, I'll be proud to tell them all.

Don't think of me as someone who's afraid to get into a relationship, or someone who doesn't have crushes or never fancies anyone; I have had more crushes than the number of contacts in my phone book. And the list grows almost every month. And I'm sure that if someone I like asks me to be his boyfriend, I'd be on the next train out of Singlestown.

But though I can say that I know how to fancy, I cannot say for certain if I still know how to love.

***

Whenever I go and meet my friends, I try to stay with them as much as I can. It's not always because I love wasting my time but because I don't want to go home.

Because location has always been a problem for me. The places I tend to visit the most are the places which tend to be miles away from where I live. When I was still studying at UST, it would take me an hour to get there every morning and another hour to get home at night.

I always get that nasty feeling whenever I wave goodbye to my friends, because I know that in a few minutes time, I will be boarding my ride home, alone and lonely.

Two full hours (sometimes even more) of being alone.

***

They say that you can't forget being human—because that's who you are. I won't be wrong to say that you can't forget hunger or thirst or pain.

But when you've been alone for almost all your life, is it not possible to forget how to love?

***

Do you know that feeling you get when your riding a PUV alone and a bunch of people ride the same vehicle and they talk for hours on end about all things they could think of and when they say something funny, you're left all alone to fend off the laughter in you? It seems that it's rude to laugh at jokes which are not directed towards you.

How about that feeling you have when you suddenly remembered something and you want to share it with someone else but unfortunately, you have no one to talk to, aside from the other people around you who you barely know?

How about when you go to bed at night, feeling so sad, wanting nothing else but to share the bed with another human being, only to find that you are still alone and that the only thing that will touch you is the cold wind from your fan?

And how about you not needing to remember those things, because you never forgot them in the first place since this is how each and every moment of your life feels?

It sucks to be lonely.

***

I love the concept of the word "forget." At it's purest, it is a verb, an action word. But aside from that basic definition, it has semantical implications that are very interesting.

Unlike many other verbs, "forget" can be intentional or unintentional—meaning you can do it on your own free will or do it without your knowledge. There are two sides to this word. Two very different sides.

***

Yes, to answer Dekada's question. Yes, I have forgotten how to love. I have forgotten how it feels like to care for someone so much that you can't sleep or you can't eat or you can't even think properly. I have forgotten how it feels like knowing that you'll have someone who cares for you so much. I have forgotten the feeling of sleeping with someone you love so much at night and waking up to see him still there, still with you, still loving you.

And now I remember how it feels like to be so alone.

***

The English forms of the two concepts of "forgetting" are the same, primarily due to the highly uninflected grammar of the language. But if we switch to the Tagalog forms, it becomes clearer.

The Tagalog root word is "limot." There are two verb forms in the present tense: "kinalimutan" and "nakalimutan." The first signifies forgetting willfully, out of your own free will. You forget because you want to, because you need to.

But the second is an unconscious act: one which you didn't do on purpose, one without consent. It's not your decision to forget. It was due to circumstances, it was accidental, it was unwanted. It was Fate that decided.

I find it interesting that the line that strikes me most from the Dekada doesn't use the first, intentional form but takes the second one:

Nakalimutan ko na bang magmahal?

Why is it interesting? Because the song is given a whole new depth. The lyrics resonate a new message: with this unconscious act of forgetting, there is that possibility of reversing the action.

With every instance of "nakalimutan" comes the hope of redemption:

Maalala

***

If I fall, will someone catch me? If I cry, will someone dry my tears? If I'm sad, will someone cheer me up? If I'm cold, will someone be there to warm me with in arms? If I wake up, will someone be there by my side?

If I finally decide that it's time, will someone be there to help me remember how to love?

***

This is one of my longest posts and certainly one of the most "emo." I won't be apologetic about the length—I have so many things to say and I need many words to express them.

You can infer that from the subject, the tone and the length of this post, I have been doing a lot of thinking lately, and you're right. I guess that's all I can do while I'm all alone.

In the end, I'd like to post another question to myself, now that the former question that Dekada has posited upon me has been answered:

Maalala ko pa kayang magmahal?

The Need

A few months ago, the BBitch and I were sitting at Rosarito, talking about stuff. Inevitably, our conversation headed towards the topic of boys—wait, I meant to say, a boy. And after clearing out the basic terms and definitions we were using throughout the conversation, BB finally asked me, "What will I do?"

I said (in an academic tone I always use when trying to make a point):

You must make him feel different when he's with you. You must offer him that one thing, that single thing that only you could give. This single thing must be something that he'll want, something that he'll try to have. It must not be anything that can be lost or anything that anyone else could give. It must be that unique thing you bring to the table.

And when he finally realizes that this one thing, that only you could bring, is essential to him, then you have created the Need.

The Need. A very interesting concept...

***

When I talk about the Need, I'm not referring to Maslow's Hierarchy—but it is somewhat connected (I think..). In case you slept through your basic psychology class, the Hierarchy of Needs is a theory of personality created by Abraham Maslow that proposes that personal growth is achieved by fulfilling different needs—which range from the physical (food, water, air, etc.) to the more "spiritual" aspects (morality, creativity, etc.). And because I slept through the same discussion, I will refer you to the Wikipedia article, in case you still need some brushing up.

But as I said, this is not really about those needs. When Maslow defined the needs, he placed the need for Love and Belonging (which includes sexual intimacy) right in the middle. But this was a generalization—one that says that humans need to feel a sense of belonging.

The Need that I speak about here is not the simple need for love, but rather that special driving force that binds us to another person. The Need is the reason why you can't sleep at night, why you can't eat breakfast, lunch or dinner and why you can't talk about that special someone without loosing your breath every two minutes.

Think about it. There are literally billions of people sharing the same planet with you, and more than half of them aren't as bad-looking as you think. It is not impossible for you to be attracted to an eight of the whole population of earth.

But somehow, there's that one special person who you will care for the most. The one who will make you forget all others. The one who will make you think that the sun and the moon revolves only around the two of you, and that everyone else is a gate crasher on your perfect date on earth.

Why that one person? There are billions of others, but you chose that one instead of the other billion. Why?

"Love! It's Love I tell you!" I can hear people shouting now. But I'm pedantic, and the concept of "love" is too vague. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, the Need.

Yes, the Need. I believe that then real driving force of love is not a metaphysical or even spiritual force. The real battery that makes love go round is the Need, and nothing but.

As Leann Rhymes sung:

I need you like water, like breathe, like rain.
I need you like mercy from heaven's gate..

You might think of me as too unromantic, having the guts to exchange that highly valued concept of love for a rather simplistic and crude view that we are all just driven by a need.

Yes, you can whine your romantic ass all you want. But think about it hard—so hard that you almost feel your brains explode.

Why do you like someone? Why he (or, ehem, she) of all people? Don't give me that "you-don't-need-to-give-reasons-on-why-you're-loving-somebody" shit, because no one really cares for that anymore.

If you examine your feelings to the point of actually getting zen-like enlightenment, then you'll see that there are really reasons, logical explanations on why you're hooked and not just weird new-age theories.

At first you're going to give reasons that start with "I love him cause I like the way" or "I love him cause I love how" or even "I love him cause I love his".. You're still not getting it, because frankly, you're just trying to enumerate some of the things you like about him.

But when you get to the point that you'll say things like:

I love him cause I need to feel the way he messes up my hair when he thinks I'm corny.

or

I love him cause I need to see him smile every morning when I wake up beside him

or

I love him because I need to feel his touch, or else I know I am destined to be alone forever.

In that one blissful moment, you have finally discovered the Need.

***

But wait, aren't we forgetting something that Claudine Barretto said in Milan?:

Mahal mo ba ako dahil kailangan mo ako?
O kailangan mo ako dahil mahal mo ako?

If I was Piolo Pascual in that scene, I would have probably said something like this:

Boba, e'di pareho!

Isipin mo nga, pano kita mamahalin kung hindi kita kailangan? Kailangan ko munang maramdaman na isa ka sa mga bagay na hindi pwedeng mawala sa buhay ko. Kailangan ko munang madama na ikaw ang hangin at na hindi ko kayang huminga kung wala ka. Kailangan kong madama na ikaw ay tubig at na mauuhaw ko kapag bigla kang naglaho. Kailangan ko munang makita na ikaw ang ay pagkain na papawi sa gutom kong puso. At kapag alam ko na na kailangan talaga kita para mabuhay ako sa mundong ito, doon ko lamang malalaman na mahal kita.

At kapag mahal na kita dahil kailangan kita, alam kong kakailangin na kita—dahil ikaw ang mahal ko

As you can see, love will always be directly proportional to the Need. As the Need increases, so those love. It's not hard to reconcile the ideas.

So the next time you find yourself looking out the window, staring into the sky and imagine how it would feel like to finally touch his skin in the heat of passionate romance, think about the Need and what the friggin' hell you can do so you can get him to need you too.

I guess I've blabber too much, explained too little and place myself in a great position of being targetted by the fury of those who have erected the altars of cupid. But then again, please remember, it's early Friday morning and I haven't slept for two days..

And so, as I can now hear my bed calling me once more, I leave you know with this very romantic quote I heard a few days ago:

Para kang bubble-gum na kahit wala nang lasa,
hindi ko parin maitapon.

[WWYD] What Would You Do?

A set of interesting case scenarios. When in a tight spot, what would you do?

One of the most interesting aspects of creating websites for clients is the use of case scenarios. This is where you create scenes for potential users and try to see how they work it out.

I find it interesting because it helps me understand what people are most likely to do and why they do it. It gives a glimpse of the minds of my users, helping me understand them better.

This time, I'm trying something new. Instead of me blabbering about stuff, I'll let you, my readers, do the blabbering. I'm presenting you with three case scenarios. All you have to do is post a comment on how you would react on these case scenarios. Feel free to explain or elaborate. There are no right or wrong answers of course, so feel free to think and experiment..

Case Scenario 1

You're walking down an alley one morning. It's so early that no one's even walking with you. It's cold and a bit foggy, but you somehow catch a glimpse of a big black thing sitting on the sidewalk.

You come closer and you realize that it's actually a small black bag. Feeling curious, you picked it up and after a closer examination, you decided that it's safe to open the thing. Inside the bag are ten rings of cash, each (to your estimate), is worth around a hundred thousand pesos.

You notice a small note that says "It's for you." Puzzled, you try and look for any name or any other indirect-object on the note. Nothing. Of course, being logical and a little more knowledgeable in grammar that others, you quickly thought that "Hey, you can refer to anyone--even a monkey." But there's no one else in the alley. So you examine the bag. Still, no identification whatsoever. It's almost six o'clock and you're pretty sure that you emptied your stored-value MRT card last night. It's now or never. What would you do?

Case Scenario 2

Your bestfriend fancies someone both of you know. Wait, fancy is the wrong word--your bestfriend is madly in-love with someone you both know. Unknown to him or to anybody else, you also fancy that person. Of course, you never plan of telling your friend, since he doesn't really need to know. And besides, you just fancy the person right?

One Saturday morning, while eating breakfast at a small cafe in Tomas Morato, the person you and your bestfriend likes passes by. You notice him, you call him out and he waves at you, giving you a smile that you swear just melted the foam atop your hot cappuccino. You invited him for some breakfast and he agreed to sit with you for a while. He ordered some Cafe Americano (ooh, so strong and manly) and the small talk started.

Of course, being such a good friend, you decided to build-up your bestfriend and you started talking about how cool, great and uber-fascinating your bestfriend is. You both laugh and exchange great stories. He remarks, "Your bestfriend is really interesting.." and you mentally do your victory dance. Your bestfriend will finally get the man he wants.

At around 8, he excused himself and waved you goodbye--he was off to this charity event to teach some poor kids to read and write. You gave him a nice wave (just so he'd remember all your great remarks about your bestfriend) and he takes off. He's gone, and you start finishing off the cold coffee you ordered. You realize that if it wasn't for your bestfriend, you'd be with that guy to that charity event. But oh well, friendship can sometimes be a bummer...

As you were standing up, you notice a small tissue with something written on it. You dismiss it as some doddle the guy just dropped but then you realize that it's a note, written in his beautiful handwriting: "You're bestfriend is interesting, but I like you more. Go out with me." Your jaws just dropped. What would you do?

Case Scenario 3

You had this highly-publicized scuffle with someone from work. You don't know how it really started, but it seems that you have become quite unpopular with his peers (who form a larger group than yours).

A few days before your Christmas party, you were tasked to prepare the food for the party--which unfortunately meant you coming earlier than usual to your office and sharing the kitchen with the other person tasked with the food preparation: your arch-nemesis.

On that morning, you woke-up, feeling a little gloomy. You got dressed and went to the office. You saw your archnemesis already there, preparing his famous carbonara (so last year). You set-up your workcamp a few meters from him, on the table closer to the sink and started working on your new sushi recipe.

While you were deboning the fish you were to serve (in perfect Martha Stewart hand movements), your idiot archnemesis suddenly tries to hold the hot steaming pasta bowl with his bare hands, causing his ugly fingers to swell-up and burn. As the smell of burning flesh slowly rises around the room, your archnemesis quickly tries to run towards the sink, stepping on the small chamois you dropped--causing him to slip. He bumps to you hard, hitting you on the knees and sends the small (yet deadly) fillet knife you were holding straight into the air.

Almost like a prayer answered by God with choirs of angels, the knife lands directly on your co-worker's nape and severs his spinal cord. Shaken and disoriented, you stand up and see your archnemesis on the floor, now but a mere vegetable. You approach him and examine the knife sticking out of his nape. You look up and see five of his friends at the door, holding plastic bags filled with ingredients your archnemesis asked them to bring and looking at you nastily.

Shit. What would you do?

Why Don't You Try and Look Behind?

Before anything else, two excerpts:

August 15, 2007:
Me: kasi I feel so weirded out by guys like him..
GD: why?
Me: pag sobrang gwapo kasi ng guys, I think of them as existing in a whole other planet..
Me: :D
GD: ayaw mo ba sa gluthatione boys? heheheh
Me: ewan..
Me: siguro they're just too way outta my league, I dismiss them as mythical assholes..
GD: ano kb..
GD: isa sila sa mga prospect ko in life.
Me: hahaha..
Me: well, they don't exist in mine.. :D

August 17, 2007:
Me: I used to like japanese guys..
Me: :P
GD: dahil?
GD: and now?
Me: hindi na rin sila nag-eexist..
Me: :))
GD: kawawa naman ang mundo m..
GD: lonely.

Yup, my world is lonely. In my world, two things don't exists: cute japanese boys and hot guys. Weird hu? Why? Because I just figured out that I'd be much happier excluding them from my world.

I'd had it with crushes and flirting. It seems that everything has changed around me. When I go out with my highschool friends, all I hear are great stories on how they hooked-up with hot guys, cute boys and the works behind the hot nights and cool dates. It seems that everyone has escaped the cruelty of studying in an all-boys school where you can have crushes all day long but receive nothing because the boys you fancy are straight.. Everyone, except for me.

It's weird, since I have surpassed the level of fancying straight boys who I know won't give the slightest damn about me. For a few years now I've set my eyes on the real prize: gay (or bisexual) guys who are ready for real relationships and homosexual explorations. But I'm still amazed of how futile my attempts have been.

It seems that everyone is way beyond my league. Every person I try to go out with, every guy I try to get to know--it's like I don't deserve them at all. No, I won't go down and break my self-esteem by saying things like "maybe I'm not good-looking enough," or "maybe I'm just too short". I'm done with that shit.

For me, it's just better that these guys, who make me feel so underrated, to not exist in my world. They're a problem I don't want to have. And just for a little philosophy, I'd like to propose an explanation on why this thing keeps on happening (which I'm sure applies to many people and not just me.)

It's because everyone tries to look up, beyond, forward. They don't care to look behind. Want an example? The average guys try to hook up with cute guys. The cute guys look for hot guys. The hot guys try and go out with hotter guys. The hotter guys try to have it with "gods". And of course, the gods--who think they're better than everyone else because they were gifted with good physique, olympic looks and non-dying sex appeal--ignore the hotter guys, who ignore the hot guys, who ignore the cute guys, who ignore the average guys. And what happens in the end is certain: no one gets anything, everyone becomes lonely.

I'm not generalizing, but I assume that many people will agree with my theory. Of course there are some exceptions to this, and those are the lucky ones. But try and go to a hotspot and observe the guys lurking around and you'll see what I mean: you won't see an average guy with a hot guy or a cute guy with a god. It's like we have a gay/bisexual caste system based on our looks, our body and our fashion sense. It's a friggin shit that we can't display our wits, our intellect and our character publicly.

I could go all day with this, but I won't. I stated my case long enough. And I don't expect things to change in the future, I guess we're all trapped in a society where our happiness depends on our profile pictures and our physique. And it's really fucking shity.

So please, do all of us a favor.. Try to look behind you.

Korean Mush Fest

I'll admit it. I love mushy movies (mushies). And that's why you'll be reading this post... Don't worry, I know you love them too.

It doesn't matter where the film comes from—if it's really mushy then you're sure that I'll watch it. I'll even cry and giggle at every mushy moment. Of course, you won't see me doing that; I need to be alone to fully appreciate a mushy film.

Since I'm really biased when it comes to mushiness, I only watch mushies from the US and Korea, and I believe that the best mushies come from the latter. And this is why I wrote this post, to give my Top 5 Korean Mushies.

The Criteria

So what is my criteria for a good mushie?..

1. Weird and unique storyline. Mushies should be very cliched—since they're about a very overrated subject (ehem, love.). Plus points if the story is so interesting, it can never happen in real life.
2. Great Script. It's the dialogue that really makes a mushie shine. Mushies should have very mushy dialogues, with lines that stick to your head and echo over and over again. Plus points for new takes on cliches.
3. Great Shots. Mushies should have great cinematography with special emphasis on uber-mushiness. Plus points for scenes with snow and rain.
4. A Predictable Twist. All mushies should have twists because that's what makes it more interesting, but these twists should be predictable enough. Plus points if you can predict the twist but still stay to watch the whole thing. That's a really good mushie. Also, plus points if someone dies.
5. Impact. Mushies should stay in your head for a very long time and should give you a chance to discuss it with other people who watched it themselves. Plus points if you'll be able to reminisce about the mushie and still giggle or cry.
6. Good Weepers. A weeper is a scene that is intended to make a mushie fan cry. Plus points if the weepers make even the eyes non-mushie fans water.

With that criteria, I present my Korean Mushies List.

Top 5: A Bungee Jump of Their Own

The Story: A guy falls in love with a girl. The girl dies and the guys finds her reincarnated. The Twist: The girl is reincarnated into a boy—who happens to be the guy's student. The Verdict: The story is really, really weird and I really like the fact that it's semigay in a way. Great shots and great dialogues. I also love the feeling of desperation for the lead male, which was really heavy in some parts. The final scene, with the bungee jump and the aerial shot is so romantic. And I must admit, I really love the train station scene. Plus Points: Final scene is literally to die for. Line to Remember: "Sorry, I think I came too late" "No, at least you came.

Top 4: Lure of the Wolf

The Story: Two rivals fighting for the love of a girl. The Twist: One of them is the girl's half brother... and he dies. The Verdict: This one had a great impact on me—I was really rooting for the brother and I really wanted the twist to be like a way for them both to be together.. which didn't happen. I also like the fact that the two leading men where strong figures and not the sissy types like in other Korean Mushies. The fight scenes where great and the cinematography is good. I really also liked it that there are actually two weepers: the flight scene and the death scene. All in all, this flick is a great introduction to Korean Mushies. Plus Points: Rain scenes all throughout—even in the fight scene, one lead dies, I cried twice. Line to Remember: "Nuna [Older Sister], in our next life, don't be my sister."

Top 3: Sad Movie

The Story: Four interwoven stories of different kinds of love. The Twist: One gets unrequited love, one ends up breaking with himself, one dies of cancer and one dies in a fire. The Verdict: I must admit that the first part of the movie wasn't in any way sad. In fact, it's a very comical movie. But as the movie progressed, the conflicts show up and the characters start to become more interesting. There is also that haunting sense of foreboding sadness throughout the whole film, which makes it very interesting. Cool use of a single song that is played all throughout the film. I love the scene where the guy ends up breaking with himself and the scene when the mother blew the whistle for the last time. The title of the movie isn't really misleading—it is really a sad movie. Plus Points: Several rain scenes, two people die, really haunting at some points, I cried twice. Line to Remember: There's no line to remember—for this movie, actions speak so louder.

Top 2: A Millionaire's First Love

The Story: A rich kid needs to move into the province and graduate before he can get his inheritance. He falls in love with a girl. The Twist: The girl is actually his childhood sweetheart, she has a heart condition wherein she'll die of too much love.. and she dies. The Verdict: I love it! I loved it so much that my eyes were so red after the movie. It's one of those movies wherein you'll really feel the sadness and where you'd really wish there was a happy ending. It's like, the quintessential uber mushy film. Plus points for the rain and snow scenes and the graduation scene still gives me shivers. Plus Points: Rain and Snow scenes (with the snow scene being an integral part of the story), uber mushy lines, the girl dies, I cried trice. Line to Remember: "Do you know why people close their eyes when they kiss?" "It's because they are both blinded by each other's brilliance." "In that moment that my eyes are closed, I'll miss you."

Top 1: The Classic

The Story: Too complex to tell. The Twist: Too many to list. The Verdict: A classic! It's one of those films that even non-mushies appreciate. The story is so complex and so twisted that you'll have a hard time remembering all the details, but the main points get stuck in your head like lettuce in your teeth. It is also unique in that it happens through a narative spanning two different time frames. The shots were really great and the music was so inspiring. The twists weren't that predictable which made it much more exciting. And most of all, its a flick that'll really make you wet.. your eyes that is.. Hahaha Plus Points: Great Rain scenes, several twists, I didn't cry—I wept so hard. Line to Remember: "I opened the window today. The romantic breeze signalled the coming of autumn. I'll put that in a letter and send it to you. "

Final Words

So there, that's my Top 5 list for the best Korean Mushies. If you're a bit weirded out as to why My Sassy Girl, Windstruck and Il Mare are left out, it's because they're too overrated and to tell you the truth, they didn't pass my criteria.. Hehe.. Post you comments now!

The Very Long Blog Post (with a very long title and hints of subtexts that are not really subtexts but truths that are veiled by a fear of reality)

WARNING: This posts contains several passages from different murder and thriller stories in progress. They are included within the post as part of an experimental subtexted writing style. Stop reading if you're queasy.

WARNING: This posts contains several passages from different murder and thriller stories in progress. They are included within the post as part of an experimental subtexted writing style. Stop reading if you're queasy.

Yes, I am very, very scared. Frightened to death of the things that come my way.

It was a sunny day in Alabang. Too sunny, Jean thought to himself. Too hot, I should guess, that Jean decided to shoot his daughter dead.

I guess you could say that the smoke has finally started to go down, and that my vision is slowly becoming clearer. The few months spent on trying to fix everything is finally taking their final bow, and the curtains are now being closed upon a dark chapter of my life. But instead of the light of the auditorium coming to rescue the audience and guiding them back towards the exit to face again the realities of this world, it seems to me that the booth has forgotten its work, and the people inside are left to wonder aimlessly in the dark, trying to find their way back towards the light--stumbling stupidly upon every block that sits on their path.

I have never been a person of emotions, and I am open to admit that I am not an expert on the subject. Yes, you can hear me babble on everything philosophical, technical and informational. But when I turn off the mind and listen to the heart, I only hear a string of static, blocking every insight that I want to find.

It wasn't too long before Alice found out that what Eric was hiding behind his back was a knife. And she became ever more sure as the cold blade started to rip appart the skin on her throat, spilling out thick red blood upon the white carpet she washed the morning before.

If I look back on the months that I have spent trying to regain my life, I guess I am left to wonder how I survived it all. The tears and troubles paid for my stupidity and my laziness are now but distant memories of a darker age. My dawn should be here by now, and I see the bright yellow rays from the distance. But why am I still in the dark?

Yes, I am happy--in a sense much like being fed after a months' worth of hunger. But I am not satisfied, nor am I really happy (in the sense I would like to believe).

I try to be philosophical when I define happiness: a temporary or extended state of emotion. Yet I try to find solace that happiness, contrary to what my mind tells me or my religion teaches, could not be temporary or extended. If bliss, as it says, is not found on this plane of existence, then I am proud to be a heretic.

No one was in the apartment that evening and it seemed as if everyone has decided to leave the boarding house for the weekend to celebrate the Holy Week. But little did Tricia know that she was about to see three of her roommates lying inside their room--with their heads severed and arms cut off.

I am happy as of the moment: I have a descent flow of income, I love my work, I have a loving family and a great set of friends, what more could I ask for?.. Well, there is a saying that when your career blooms, your love life fades. And this is exactly why I am still rotting.

It seems unfortunate that I am not able to do as I want. The answer is clear, yet it hurts.

I love people who could not love me. People want my love but I could not give it. I love others, and hope that they love me back, only to find out that I am weak--weak enough to fear of what might happen next. I am in love, but I am not in love.

To give something I must have that something. Else I fall into the delusion that I am worthy of giving. I'd rather see them happy in the arms of someone else, knowing that in mine they shall only thirst for something I could not provide. However I want it, man could not live with love alone.

Jacob was certainly in a good mood as he combed his hair in front of the mirror, humming a dance tune he had heard the night before. "This will be a fun night," he said to himself quietly. And in fact, the night did turn out quite well. Until the point he had to strangle his girlfriend.

My mind and my heart are one. My mind and my heart are not one. My body and my soul are similar. My body and my soul are not similar. I love someone, I don't love someone. I don't love someone, I love someone else. I love them both. I love them not.

Being in my position is not easy as it looks. I'm sorry, but my shoes are hard to fill. Believe me, I would do anything, anything. But I cannot change.

Why? Because change happens when something else happens, like when a fruit grows after the flower dies. To change something means to give up something else. And I could not give up who I am.

Mary always knew she married the perfect man, and all her friends thought so too. John was certainly Mr. Right--tall, dark, handsome and works with a large marketing firm that pays him more than he could ever spend. He was really the perfect guy, for even the way he disembowels his brides is a perfect technique.

Knowing that I was once a neopagan, my friend asked me once what would happen if someone I love dearly asks me to change my philosophy, my beliefs and my way of life. In a whirl of poignant emotions, I responded that I will not change.

I guess it's a large babble, with many subtexts, alternate meanings and other things like that. Medium not the message. The man is not the blog.

What is the sound of one hand clapping? Is it half-full or half-empty?.. I try to answer, but my mouth bites a branch of a tree.

You know I am scared. I have always been. So why the hell am I still dating?

Fred was panting. He just ran a mile, and he knows that there's no way that the man in the dark suit could find him. But it was he who found something. His eyes slowly grew larger, when he saw the bones of his mother, which he threw on this spot five years ago after he killed her.

DISCLAIMER: This posts contains various ideas on different topics. Do not try interpreting the text. Do not give it any meaning other. This work is a literary experiment. Nothing more.

Monochromanticism

Perhaps everything is black and white...

I have not asked anything from you, other to accept my singular beam--a ray of emotion that has scattered for so long. I never asked for anything more. Not a kiss, not word. Not even a response.

Scientists say that color is produced when white light is shattered. What is absorbed is not seen. What bounces back shines brightly. What we behold is that which is denied.

I guess I shine brightly now.

All I see is gray.

The Other Senses..

After watching The Sixth Sense, I wonder why people don't claim they have a third-ear..

Last night, I was able to treat myself with a screening of "The Sixth Sense" on StarMovies. Being an M. Night Shyamalan fan, I was really excited to watch the movie (again..). And I must say that although I have watched the film for a number of times, the dead people still scare me..

Now I have a secret to share with you. To paraphrase the famous line from the movie: "I hear dead people"..

Yup, call me a freak, but I can actually hear things normal people don't always hear. Some people call it a gift, some people call it a curse, I call it a.. a.. okay, so I don't call it anything.

Which makes me wonder, what should I call it?

Well, people into the whole paranormal scene have lots of terms for this. If you ask anyone who has a firm background in the paranormal and occult fields, they will tell you that the lead character in the Sixth Sense has a special ability called Clairvoyance.

Clairvoyance is an ability wherein a person can see things not usually visible to the normal person. Some attribute it to a "third eye" located just above the brow (thus the name sixth sense.) While many people say that there is no third eye, others claim that it exists and it is the thing that give other people the ability to see things associated with the more spiritual levels of the universe.

I won't go into details of how this third eye works, or for that matter, if it really exists or not. What I do want to share is the fact that clairvoyance isn't the only special ability in town, in fact there are still two other well known abilities: clairaudience and clairsentience.

Clairaudience is the ability to hear sounds not normally heard by other people, while clairsentience is the ability to feel things not normally felt. Why there are no document abilities that make you smell or taste special things, I do not know.

The deal is that whether you believe me or not, I will tell you that I have clairaudience. I did have a bit of a clairvoyant ability before, but I guess my third eye needs special glasses now, since I really see nothing clearly.

So what's the point of all this babblings? Nope, I am not going to share any ghosts stories or spooky anecdotes on how my clairaudient abilities made me hear creepy sounds--that's reserved for next halloween. Again, I go back to my original wondering: what should I call this thing?

I mean, the clairvoyant people can go around claiming they have a third eye, but what about people like me who can hear stuff? I don't think that I can go around and claim that I have a third ear! I mean, that's not spooky; that's just disgusting. It's even weirder if you try to figure out where that third ear sits--will it be in your forehead? Or maybe in the back of your head? Or in the nape perhaps?..

Well, I am firm to say that I believe that I don't have a third ear. Instead, I have a second pair of ears, probably just under or above the top of my normal ones. Yup, that would be better. But still, I don't think that anyone will be interested to hear about the Seventh and Eighth senses very soon.. :D

Happily Ever After

I read a sleazy paperback romance novel.. and I liked it.

Like every other day lately, I woke up with a headache and an ear throbbing from hearing my mother's screams as she woke me up. But unlike any other day, we were scheduled to go to a swimming pool for a little summer swim.

To cut the story short, the only part of me that got wet was my feet--and that was from a faucet and not a pool, as I didn't really feel like sharing water with other people. And as I laid down on the hammock that I had set up besides the resort cottage we rented, I did something I never thought I would in a thousand years--I read a cheesy paperback novel.

Yes, I know that its quite strange that after having watched a cheesy flick a few nights ago I would go overboard and read a cheap paperback novel. And no, it's not those novels from foreign authors and prestigious publishing houses; its a "pocketbook" you always see being read by the more "earthly" folks here in the Philippines.

To be honest, I really enjoyed it. Well, I must admit that I am easily swayed into funny emotions, so I wouldn't come as a surprised that I had "kilig" moments while reading the pocketbook (yes, it's funny.. I bet that I would also laugh at the sight of myself).

The story was so simple you've probably heard it a thousand times before: a college student who writes cheesy pocketbook novels falls in love with the rockista campus hearthrob who, unsurprisingly, doesn't believe in true love.

But what really sets this story apart from other similar stories is the fact that I liked it.

Yes, I really liked it. Although the characters needed tweaking and some parts of the story were very, very, very predictable, the conversations and the ideas were quite interesting. I found myself just smiling at the cheesy points and I guess I was really into the whole story.

The real deal here is that I never realized that a cheap paperback can actually bring me so much fun. Okay, so there were a few things I wish the writer could have done to make the story more interesting and more unpredictable but even with that raw of a material, I still had a good time reading it.

And oh, a word to all those aspiring writers out there: please make plot clues more subtle! It's frustrating for many people when they read something and know in an instant that that something will eventually become the story's twist. Man, I hate stuff like that...

The Prince and Me

Indulging in a secret passion: cheezy teeny-bopper movies..

Yup, I know it's been shown for some years now, but last night was my first time to catch a screening of the Prince and Me, staring Julia Stiles as a young college student finding herself helplessly falling in love with Luke Mably who plays the prince of Denmark. Of course, I know you know the story, so I won't go into details.

You might be wondering, "what the hell is Mark trying to say now?" Well, it might come as a surprise (or maybe not) but I quite like watching cheesy chick-flicks. Of course, hard action, car-chase-driven movies were never really my cup of tea--I mostly opt for comedies and light flicks. But well, there it is: I love watching the cheesy stuff.

For most part, the Prince and Me is quite a disappointment for the critic in me. The plot was too fast, the transitions were too sharp and I would have loved to see more of the strong dark character of the prince's mother. And I wasn't all too happy with the ending either. Yes, I know that hanging ending quite have an effect for most movies, but ending a flick with a torrid kiss doesn't seem to cut it good.

I've told this to my friends before, and once again, in true Mark Obcena fashion, I will reiterate my point: I watch love stories to feel good. Okay, I hear the laughter, but smirk and taunt you may, I do not regret that.

Many people see me as quite the intimidating, airy, know-it-all with eyebrows looking like they just finished from a plucking. No I don't pluck my eyebrows and I guess the airy intimidator look is just part of the package--and I still haven't found the section in the manual to turn that off. But a few people do know that I am not always like that. In fact, if you know the right parts to tickle, push or pinch, I display quite a number of emotions that you wouldn't find intimidating at all.

A few months ago, I had this string of text message with Shiela. We were talking about cheesy flicks, and I mentioned that the only reason I really watch stuff like that is that it fuels the fire in my head that keeps on telling me that somehow, something similar might happen in my life. I know, movies are just, well, movies, and everything is just a fantasy.

But a six-lettered phrase always keeps popping in my head: what if?.. What if these things aren't just in movies? What if someone out there is really thinking of me tonight? What if someone would really have the guts and the love to throw away everything just for me? What is love isn't just an element of a good fairy tale?

I guess everytime I see a good love story, I feel that somehow, this might become my own story. In a world where everything for me has always been wrong, can something somehow turn out right?

It all boils down to love. And as cheesy as it may sound, I'm willing to watch a thousand cheesy flicks just so I can feel that I will eventually be happy.. even if it means gaining 10 pounds from eating popcorn.

One Big Bite.

I'm still wondering why up to this time, some of my Ateneo friends (or is that, former-friends?) are still fussing over the UAAP result. Well, please don't mind this post if you're not interested in the topic or if you might be offended. I'm just trying to air out my views.

First, don't send me messages saying that it was all a big set-up. Mind you, I believe you yourselves created the illusion that your school is better than mine, you have told me that over and over again. You yourselves have placed an air of prestige, royalty and grandeur around your university. So why are you trying to tell me now that we bribed referees and high-ranking people from the UAAP?! If your school is better than mine, or more royal, more prestigious, more grand, how the hell could you not have known the dealings of a "weak, hypocritical" school?!

Secondly, I believe that you know it in your heart that even I was doubting whether or not we would win. This only means that even I was surprised with the result, although it was a pleasant surprise. I was never too confident that we would surely win. Unlike you guys. And please, try to look at the results.

Lastly, please stop fussing! It's almost been two weeks already since the finals, and frankly, the school spirit is slowly turning into vapor. I don't know how big your egos can be, but I am sure that you're not someone who's too shallow to accept the results. Duh? It's just a game.

And for all you other people still making a big deal out of the results of the UAAP finals, please! Get a life! It's done! It's final! UST won! It's not like the end of the world!

And also, please don't go around bad-mouthing UST. It only shows how low you can go when you really show your true sides. "You may have robbed us of the trophy, but you will never rob us of our dignity" What the fuck? I never knew that the prize of the UAAP Game was the losing team's dignity! And robbery? For the love of everything that is good, we could never rob from you something that was never yours to start with. (And if you're talking about robbery, why not mention how you robbed us of Game 1 victory with a last second miracle?).

Don't think that I'm against Ateneo or Ateneans in general. I'm just against shallow minded individuals who can't seem to accept things as they are (up to this point in time--which is like, so long after the game!).

I said it before, and I'll say it again: We are not happy because Ateneo lost the championship. We are happy because UST won.

Squeezing Cola From An Old Sponge (or Musings of a Sponge Cola Fan on the Transit Album)

I love Spongecola. I'm an addict. I'm obsessed. I need rehab. I love Spongecola.

But I guess when you love something so much, you hate to let go the first reason why you learned to love it. Why you wan't it. Why you're still obsessing about it.

When I found out that Spongecola was releasing their sophomore album, I was pretty psyched. It's been three years since I discovered them--I was just 16 back then. Now, I'm 19. Three full years of waiting was finally coming to a halt.

I was pretty much bummed out last Monday when I found out that the check for one of my design accounts couldn't be cleared until yesterday. I was planning big that day: I wanted to buy the new Spongecola album the moment it hit stores.

Yesterday, I finally cleared my check and I bought the CD. It was one of the moments I would never forget for the rest of my life. There I was at Tower Records, holding the new album, feeling it for the first time.

But deep within me, I was scared. I was trying to hold back. Something inside me tells me to just turn away and buy something else.

Three years had gone by and I have never been fed up with the Palabas sound. I guess that's how an obsessed fan really operates--I listen to the CD every now and then, and I still don't get tired of the sound. Even though I know every word, every beat, every tune in that album, I still find something fresh, something new, something worthwhile with every revolution of the disc.

I was scared because I didn't know whether I will still find the beat, the sound, the words which I came to love. I didn't know whether I would still feel that tickling sensation that comes from listening from the tunes. I didn't know whether I could still squeeze the cola from the sponge.

Sequels are never as popular as the originals, and I guess three years of listening to the same tunes has taken its toll on me.

The old sound has gone, buried under new beats. New faster beats. New tunes. New words. New effects. New band.

When a band somehow changes sound or turns into another thing, many people say that they're "Growing." I guess I could never use that word. "Changed" or "Reformated" may be a better alternative.

Spongecola never grew. To say that a band "has grown" is to say that their old style was inferior to the new. Spongecola was never inferior. Yes, the old sound may have been better if it was remastered or tweaked a little, but the old Spongecola I came to love was never inferior. It was real. It was down to earth. It was experimental. It was raw. It was good.

I have never felt more down with Spongecola. The last time I felt like this was when they released "Una" (which is my personal favorite and which I think should be left as a "treat" to fans).

Don't get me wrong. I'm not a traditionalist--I'm fine with change and all that. I guess I'm just missing the old Spongecola. I long for the sound which has been my natural upper for the last three years.

22, Partisan, KLSP, Neon, On The Floor, Stone's Throw, Jillian, Lunes, To the Sly and Cunning, Una, Dragonfly, Gemini, Jeepney, Closure--these were the tracks that have been with me for three years, the tracks that kept me happy, the tracks that kept me cool, the tracks that kept me loving.

When I bought the album, I told myself, "As long as I find tracks which can level 22, Neon, Lunes and Una, I guess I'll be happy." I guess Spongecola has really grown.

I guess it's not that hard to add more reasons on why you love something. I guess that's the only logical thing to do now. I have waited three years for this and I won't let anything spoil it.

I love Spongecola. I love their music. I have learned to love them before. I guess I just need to learn to love them anew once more.

Bitiw, Tuliro, Movie, The Wandering, Gunita, Do You Know The Feeling, Sa Bingit ng Isang Paalam, Myself in You, All We Need, Nocturne, Pasubali, Harapin--it's time to add new soundtracks for my life.

SPONGECOLA: No matter what you guys do with your music.. No matter what decisions you make.. No matter what sound you may produce.. No matter what words you might utter.. I'm Mark Obcena--and I'm always here to back you up.

Nasaan na ang SONA?

Sa aking pakikinig sa SONA ng Pangulo noong nakaraang Lunes, hindi ko mapigilan ang sarili kong magtanong: nasaan na ang SONA? Sa hinaba-haba ng kanyang mga sinabi at sa likod ng kanyang nakakaantok na speech, hindi ko mahanap kung saan nya itinago ang tunay na SONA.

Kung aalamin natin, ang SONA ay isang acronym o pinaiksing tawag para sa "State of the Nation Address." Ano ang ibig sabihin nito? Isa itong address o isang pahayag ukol sa kasalukuyang state o kalagayan ng ating bansa.

Siguro ay nawili ang pangulo habang nagsusulat siya ng SONA, dahil sa lahat ng kanyang sinulat, halos walang nabanggit ukol sa tunay na kalagayan ng ating bansa. Ang mga narinig ko ay mga plano at pangako; walang akong narinig na mga katotohanang maari nating makita sa ating sariling mga mata.

Hindi ko masisisi ang pangulo. Siguro, naisipan niya na ang tanging paraan upang maisalba ang kanyang sarili, na ngayon ay binabatikos at kinakalaban, ay sa pamamagitan ng pagpapakita ng magarang powerpoint presentation at pagsasabi ng mga pangarap at mga plano na alam naman natin na hindi natin kayang abutin.

Walang masama sa pangangarap. Ang masama ay kung kasama ang isang buong bansa sa pangarap mo na may malaking posibilidad na hindi matuloy o mauwi lamang sa kontrobersya.

Marahil, hindi rin napansin ng mga taong palakpak nang palakpak habang nakikinig sa pangulo na wala talagang SONA na naganap--masyado kasi silang masaya. Siguro nagpapa-pogi lang sila sa pangulo, o di kaya'y wala lang talaga silang alam ukol sa SONA.

Nasaan na ang mga ulat ukol sa kahirapan? O di kaya'y sa kawalan ng trabaho o kababaan ng suweldo? Nasaan na ang mga dahilan ukol sa korupsyon na hindi parin masupil? Sa krimen na hindi parin mapigilan? Sa patuloy na pagtaas ng bilihin at ng produktong petrolyo? Nasaan na ang tunay na SONA na kailangang marinig ni Juan dela Cruz?

Hindi naman siguro manhid ang mga Pilipino para hindi makita na hanggang ngayon, wala paring pagbabago sa Pilipinas. At ito marahil ang dahilan kung bakit hindi na nilagay ng pangulo ang mga bagay-bagay na ito sa kanyang ibinigay na SONA. Sapagkat kung ibibigay ng pangulo ang tunay na kalagayan ng Pilipinas, hindi na sya magtatagal pa sa entablado. Sasabihin lang nya, "Eto, katulad parin ng dati!"

Ang daming mga pangako. Ang daming mga plano. Ang daming mga gustong gawin. Pero ang dami ring gagastusing pera, ang dami ring utang na kailangang kunim, ang dami ring mga pulitikong mangungurakot.

Ano nga ba talaga ang tunay na SONA ng Pilipinas? Humanap ka ng isang ordinaryong mamamayan ng Pilipinas at tanungin mo siya kung ano ang tingin n'ya sa bansa n'ya ngayon. 'Yun ang tunay na SONA.

Hindi mga plano ang solusyon sa mga problema ng Pilipinas. Hindi mga super-regions o mga malalaking inprastraktura na aabutin ng ilang trilyong piso. Hindi yan ang kailangang marining sa SONA.

Ang kailangan namin, mahal na pangulo, ay marinig nang direkta kung ano ba talaga ang mga problema ngayon at kung ano ang ginagawa nyo upang masagot ang mga ito. Iyon ang SONA na hinihintay ng mga Pilipino.

Hindi naming kailangan ng mga pangako, nang mga plano, ng mga kahibangang wala naming direktang maitutulong sa pang-araw-araw naming pamumuhay. Hindi lahat ng mga taong nasa-ilalim mo, mahal na pangulo, ay mayayaman. Hindi naming kailangan ng mararangyang bagay; Kailangan lang naming mabuhay ng masaya. Hindi rin namin kailangan si Pacquiao.

Nasaan na ang tunay na nilalaman ng SONA? Tumingin ka sa paligid mo ngayon. Yan ang tunay kalagayan ng bansa. Tsk. tsk., nakakalungot ano?

Isang araw, dalawang suntok sa dibdib ng mga Pilipino. Hindi na nga tayo nanalo sa Miss Universe (Miss Photogenic lang), wala pa tayong napala sa SONA.

Sana natulog nalang tayo.

(This paper is dedicated to Sir Ampil... Sir, eto napo yung paper ko.. Uno yan!)

We're All In Love... With Ourselves

I woke up so tired today, my head still hurts while I'm writing this blog. I guess the overnight last Friday is still taking its toll on my body. I don't even think I'm really okay--my nose is getting kinda runny and my throat burns like hell, which means I can't enjoy smoking--something that I'm a bit thankful for...

We're all in love with ourselves, that's the title of this post. This is the main idea of the new script of the group where Gabchilog and I spent our friday night. Of course, this was never a new idea; the same thought has been used in one episode of CSI.

If I say that we are all in love with ourselves, im not saying that we're all vain and narcissistic. It doesn't really work that way. Being in love with one's self doesn't mean staring at the mirror all day, whispering compliments and trying to realize how perfect we really are..

Think about this: if you were to think of a perfect lover for yourself, how would he or she be? What would be his or her interests, beliefs, philosophy? What would he or she like?..

For most of us, the idea of a perfect lover is someone most likely to be ourselves. Someone with the same interests, beliefs or ideas. Someone who will want to do the same things with us. Someone who will laugh at the things we also find funny, cry with those we find sad. Our basis for the ideal lover is ourselves.

Which brings us to an interesting problem: we are all so unique, that to find someone just like us will only lead back ourselves.

No matter what we do, no one can be exactly like us. No one can share everything that we are. The ideal lover we all wish for exists only in ourselves.

But instead of this being a problem, this creates and opportunity for us. Yes, we can never find the pegs who will fit in our holes perfectly, but we can find people who won't. If you and your lover are so similar, there would be no thrill, for you would know everything about him or her and there would be no room for anything new. Man is curious by nature, and it is in discovery that man finds him happiness.

We are all in love with ourselves. Unfortunately, we cannot love ourselves like we love our lovers. That, my friend, is just creepy.

Freedom of Suppression

This short piece was part of a poster I was suppose to post on the Freedom Wall of the Faculty of Arts and Letters in UST. It's my own voice on the "Saguid Affair" last school year. For those who do not know the whole story, its a case of a CA Senior named Joseph Saguid, editor-in-chief of the Flame, who posted an article which criticized an AB Professor. What follows is strictly my own "twisted" opinion.

By posting a few sheets of paper on the Freedom Wall, Joseph Saguid has brought about a swirling sense of confusion surrounding freedom of expression. I believe that it was not his intention to do so. But the chain of events that proceeded from a simple expression of views has given us all something to ponder on.

I believe that the "Saguid Posting" is a simple narrative-analysis document: his main intention was both to tell his batch's story and interpret it in terms of the why's and how's. I did not see anything gravely wrong with the text itself, nor with the call for action that it tried to inspire. Mr. Saguid was free to voice out his views, which was exactly what he did.

But then some people asked for the removal of the posting from the wall. Others took legal action against the writer. The simple expression of personal views became, for others, an apathetic (and somewhat rebellious) document.

So does this mean that freedom of expression is being curtailed? No.

Mr. Saguid is being questioned not because he used his freedom of expression but because of how he used that freedom. He has the right to voice his personal opinion, but others also have the right to challenge that opinion.

The others who have gone against the Saguid Posting and its writer are not curtailing freedom of expression. In fact, they are even promoting it. By condemning the posting and the writer, these people are just expressing their own views of apathy towards Mr. Saguid and his own views. Even legal action is but a form of this freedom of expression. Their actions just made everyone more interested with the discussion, inspiring a multitude of people to post more messages on the freedom board. Therefore, freedom of expression is not being suppressed here in AB but being promoted.

Mr. Saguid used his freedom of expression to explain the status of his batch, while the Administration used their own freedom of expression to question that other expression. But many students are getting angry. Why? Because they say that the Administration's actions are nothing more than a suppression of the basic right of self-expression. But the Administration was merely expressing its own views! Which brings us to a very interesting question: whose freedom of expression is really being suppressed?

The problem with freedom is that we all have it. We, as humans, have been thrown into this world with the gift of free-will. And it is the availability of freedom that is now the main source of our problem. Yes. we are all free. But the freedom we possess is limited by the freedom that others also possess.

Don't misinterpret me here; I'm not voicing out my full support for Mr. Saguid nor am I condemning his actions. I am also not defending the Administration nor am I saying that they are always right (they're also human, figure it out). What I am trying to do here is to look at the nature of freedom of expression. I believe that the attempt is both trivial and arguable. But I do hope that I am able to confuse the confusion off the topic.

The subject of freedom is hard to analyze, particularly because too much meaning has been jammed into a seven-letter word. But in the end, we must remember one thing: in a world like ours where freedom is inherent, freedom will limit itself by nature.

Why were still Unhappy

Happiness is the goal of every human being. But like everything else we want, happiness is something we can't ever seem to find. For all we know, happiness can be staring at us right in the face, but like an elusive bandit masquerading in the streets, we just can't see it.

Why are we unhappy? Well, it's a hard question to answer. But I believe that our unhappiness lies in our basic nature. We are human and humans are rarely happy. It is imbedded in our being, it is in our existence. Whether we like it or not, we may never be happy as long as we are human.

This may be a hard thing to swallow, but it is somewhat true. But what is it in our humanity that makes us unhappy? Well, it's our basic instinct to want, and it is this basic instinct that drives us to our unhappy state.

In a world without dreams, without desires, without hope there will be no loss nor pain nor unhappiness. Wars will not be fought for we do not wish to be victorious. Struggles will not arise for we will all be contented. Love will flourish because we are at peace.

In that world, whether we fail or we win we will not be unhappy because we never wanted to win or to lose anyway. Everything that comes in our way will be welcomed, and therefore happiness will be found no matter what.

But a world without dreams, without desires, without hope is not a good world to live in. Without dreams or hope or desires everything will be worthless, everything will be passable, everything will be nothing to us. It is our struggle that gives everything its value. We esteem too lightly what we get too cheep.

We as humans will never be happy. We will never be fulfilled. We will never stop dreaming or hoping. But in a sense, it is our unhappiness, which drives us to want more and to find more, which in turn makes us happy. For every victory, for every dream fulfilled, for every desire obtain, we become more happy. And even though there is a gamble and we may fail, in the end we still find joy in our own sadness.

Quit Smoking for the Nth Time

Let's just admit it. We smokers are a different breed of people. No matter what we do, we just love inhaling that toxic gas that will eventually lead to the failure of our lungs and, I do hate to admit the truth, death. But no matter what the doctors say, it's a habit we just can't get enough of.

So what can we do? We can quit of course! Now I believe that for most of us, announcing to our friends that we are quitting smoking is already an annual event. Whatever the method, whatever the cause, it's just so hard to quit smoking! So how the fuck are we gonna get through this time?

Well, I prepared some creative ways to quit smoking. Although these are not tried and tested formulas (I think..) I believe that it will help a steady smoker to finally let go of this harmful (yet very, very, very satisfying and somewhat "intoxicating") habit.

1. Cigarette Edging. Buy a pack (or better yet, a whole carton) of your favorite expensive brand--the pricier, the better. Make sure that it's still unopened. Take it with you the whole day and don't buy or bring any other cigarette. Resist the urge to open the pack and smoke a stick. Finally, when you can no longer hold on, take the pack slowly and open it. Then slowly take a stick and put it in your mouth. Take your lighter, light up a fire and then slowly bring it close to your cigarette. When the flame is somewhat close enough to light the stick, put the fire out, take the stick off your mouth and place it back into the carton--then throw the cigarette pack as far as you can. I call this technique "Cigarette Edging."
2. Burn! Baby! Burn! Take some money equal to the amount you spend each day on cigarettes. Place the money in a bowl, pour in some flammable liquid (burning alcohol or lighter fluid) and then take your favorite lighter and set the bowl on fire. This will show you just how much money you're burning. Note: better to use paper money; coins don't really burn so well.
3. Mantra. Open up a cigarette and take out the shredded tobacco inside. Take burn some charcoal and place the shredded tobacco on the burning embers (like burning incense). Inhale the smoke and slowly repeat this mantra: "Now I know how other people around me feel..."
4. Lawn Smoker. After cutting grass from your lawn (or your neighbor's lawn), take some of the lawn grass and dry it up. Roll it into a stick and smoke it like a regular cigarette. Feel the smoke slowly burning your throat.
5. Patch Plugin. If you tried nicotine patches and they don't work, try this simple trick: take a patch and stick it to your tounge for that added flavor. Works like a charm!
6. Gum Plugin. If you're into gums, simply mix your gum with some charcoal and some cayenne pepper. Gives you that "hot-and-smokey-feeling."
7. Fuck Technique. While you're still trying to quit, ask your lover to not have sex with you. For each day you don't smoke or even touch a cigarette, let your lover know that you need a reward. Be sure to fuck you lover really hard.
8. Porn Stare. If you're into porn, try watching some porn while smoking: same-sex porn. If you're straight, simply take gay porn of the same sex as yourself. If you're not, watch same-sex porn of your opposite sex (i.e. man2man porn if you're lesbian, girl2girl porn if you're gay). If you're a bisexual, just visit Rotten.com. Be sure to resist the urge to inhale some smoke during the good parts!
9. Gotch Grandma. Light a cigarette and then hide in your bathroom. Wait until your Grandmother comes to take her bath. Watch her, but do resist the urge to inhale some more.
10. Deep Throating. And finally, take a stick and light it up. Inhale some smoke deeply into your lungs--but do not blow it out! Keep the smoke inside of you until you pass out or lose your conciousness. Do this until you go into a coma or die--either way, you're done with smoking.

There, I hope you found a good way to quit smoking. I bet that after doing any of the methods listed above, you'll be on your way to a smoke-free life.

But before you go on and try out the techniques, I would just like to impart a message to you: Quitters are Losers! Hehehe!

Disclaimer: The contents of this post are fictious and shouldn't be trusted... and so is this message.

Learning to Love Pink

I used to hate pink. Maybe it's judgmental. Maybe it's stereotypical. But there was always something in me that loathed the color. For me, Pink was a poor alternative to red--which I hated even more. Pink was, somehow, the embodiment of all that is evil for me.

But my acceptance and eventual love for pink happened because of some strange event. One night, while toying with my beloved old PC (may it rest in peace), I decided that I needed a change of wallpaper. So I opened Photoshop and started making a wallpaper. After preparing all settings, I was now prepared to design the wallpaper. I was staring at the blank area and I came to the conclusion that it was as blank as my mind. I had no ideas. I had no inspiration. I had nothing.

My best works come to me in my dreams. Call it psychic, call it supernatural, but the best designs I come up with visit me during my sleep. But I didn't have time to sleep. I had to change my wallpaper now! So I decided to "explore" and see what designs I can crop up.

After deciding that the background color shall be black, I was now in the brink of despair. I didn't know what forecolor to choose, nor did I have any good ideas. So I decided that the best thing to do now is think logically--I closed my eyes, moved and clicked the mouse a few times and pressed enter.

And then there was pink. I was shocked. I wanted to change the color, but then I hesitated. Surely there is a reason behind this, since I'm not a fan of coincidences. So I played with it.

The result was spectacular. I never knew that pink could go so well with black. Maybe it's the soft tinge of pink, or it's the light radiance. I decided to use pink, and I never looked back.

Of course, I never became a pink freak. I only have one pink shirt in my closet and my PC's current wallpaper is blue and black. But I now have a firm respect for pink.

I guess it may sound all too trivial to you. So what if I learned to love pink? How does this affect you? It wouldn't affect you much, really, except for the fact that pink will be the national color when I become president...

Kidding aside, my learning to love pink is an example of the few instances when we can learn to love something we hate. Sometimes we are all too eager to reject things when they can be good for us. Our prejudice against people, objects and situations hinder us from seeing that maybe, just maybe, we can enjoy these things we do not consider.

I am a person who is prejudiced by nature; my mind just tries to block everything hurdled unto me. But somehow, I rise above my nature and my mind and like learning to love pink, I am able to transcend every little prejudice and find something to make me feel good.

You may notice that this post is very, very trivial. Why do I spend so much time babbling and over-analysing? Maybe it's my mind trying to release tension...

...that or maybe, I just really need a lover.. :D