Ice Carvings

Maybe i could make 2006 a year of resolutions. 2005 was more of a revolution for me, and despite the maelstrom, i think i learned to use my brain and let less of my heart go out of my sleeve. Since this is the last day of work, and i have tons of figures to work on, i'll make this quick and painless as possible. Mission: Impossible 2k6 1. Quit Smoking (again) I managed to do so for 3 years. Why can't i repeat my success? 2. Keep a significant stash in case of anything. My personal bank account contains nothing but a pittance, which i withdraw almost as soon as i deposit. 3. Less heart, more brain. Especially at the office. Damn the torpedoes, but i am much more effective as a worker when im impassive. And i should stop being paranoid. To all of you. 4. Keep my thoughts to myself - at least hold out for the maximum Self-explanatory. Let their wheels turn instead of mine. I need to practice saying "It's none of my business" and really mean it. 5. Really not care abo

This is not the greatest of times to post this newest lyrics installment, but i only got the singer and title right last night as i was locking the car door. had a wonderful dinner over red crabs and shrimp and white wine, then off to a slice of plain cheesecake. unfortunately, either my contact lenses or the white wine, or the crab fat gave me a headache and we had to excuse ourselves at midnight for a much needed shuteye. anyway, this is rachel yamagata, some chicago singer who i don't know previously. thanks to her deep insight, i don't have to write something about this anymore. i edited it a bit to reflect my gender biases. merry christmas to all, and to all a good night! ----unchristmassy insert--- Worn Me Down Gone - (he’s) gone. How do you feel about it? That’s what I thought. You’re real torn up about it. And I wish you the best I could do without it And I will because you’ve worn me down Oh, I will because you’ve worn me down Worn me down like a road. I did everythin

I finally mustered the courage to do something I’ve been meaning to do for years now. I was hesitant about the concept, and was paranoid about the numerous warnings that it’s not worth it. It took me quite a while to start, and when I did, I wavered during the middle. It took me ages to do something that I should have known how to instinctively. Finally, I drew a sigh of relief as I finally finished it. Now that i did, all i can do is wait anxiously for the impending results of this first time foray. I finally made my first online order. Prologue: The dilemma of gift giving Nel is always at a crossroads on what to give me for Christmas or birthdays. She claims I am too critical of gifts (I am not! I just express my genuine reaction upon seeing my gift unwrapped). She would rather buy me things I need for my everyday use, but as a principle, I prefer out-of-the ordinary (likely expensive) purchases for those special occasions. This loggerhead created the need for us to draw a wish list,

If we can all vote and get rid of one Christmas tradition, i would mount a signature campaign of at least 1 million john hancocks to eradicate once and for all the scourge of the Lenten Season: The Christmas Song. Nothing irritates the beejezus out of me that hearing the same muzak over and over - in elevators, malls, restrooms, radio stations. Somehow this genre has given countless no-hacks the reason to come up with a single or even worse, a compilation. Here's a definitive list of why i hate them jingle bells. 1. The lyrics are mostly nonsense. take Jingle Bell Rock for example: Jingle bell, jingle bell Jingle bell rock Jingle bell swing And jingle bells ring Snowin' and blowin' Up bushels of fun Now the jingle hop has begun Jingle bell, jingle bell Jingle bell rock Jingle bells chime in Jingle bell time Dancin' and prancin' In jingle bell square In the frosty air Somebody beat the author with a 2 day old loaf of french bread until he pleads for mercy. 2. Despite

damn PC at home is on the fritz again. was trying to repair my cd-rw drive when i chanced upon my RAM and decided to wipe it clean. now i have two 128MBs but only 128MB is showing in my system. when will i learn by heart the adage "if it ain't broke, don't fix it." anyway, i think i'll be getting some neat upgrades for christmas. we're looking at 512MB RAM, a new DVD drive, and some kick ass speakers. ho ho ho and a bottle of rum... ---We interrupt this blog for an important reply--- I told the starry sky to wait for you I told the wind to sigh like lovers do I even told the night you were true And you would be here soon And now I'm lying to the moon - Trisha Yearwood this time though, the moon is lying to me. again. by definition, truce is a cessation from all hostilities. i haven't been hostile for over a month. what do i need a truce for? that was then. this is now. and i still can't, and i won't trust again ...especially when you ask me for

you know the saying "paint yourself in a corner?" that could be very well my company slogan, if ever i decide to own a company. Misery is not a company, thank you very much, soul asylum, but i'm not in the market for anything but self-inflicted wounds. anyway, it looks like the story of my life so far. options, options, options.. got plenty of them, and i seem to burn myself silly narrowing them down to one or two, in both cases resistance is futile. take the company i work for right now. the pay is good, the benefits are ok (can't get them anywhere else, especially the car), and the conditions are downright miserable. Im having fun by sticking to my guns but you gotta wonder what's it like to be out there... somewhere other than here. at least i got my poetry mode on again. then take my social life. it actually revolves around default settings. not that im complaining old is gold but some of the old tarnishes the newer so you gotta wonder what's it like to be

...with asking questions is that the sooner you get answers the sooner the story ends. Scary but true

It's happening again. My favorite team, the Sacramento Kings lost by five points. Last time, it was ten. Their present record is an abysmal 6-11, way way below their usual year end record. The irony is, them Kings have retooled in the offseason, supposedly bulking up in deficient areas like rebounding, low post scoring, etc. With all the trading and personnel moves they did, the team is hardly the picture of what i've grown to love the past couple of years. No more C-Webb (#4), No Doug Christie (#13), No Bobby Jackson (#24), No Scot Pollard (#51), No Hedo Turkoglu (#5). Nothing against the present team, but there are a couple of players i missed badly. Possibly because i already invested heavily and bought quite a few SK caps with their name and number on it. Apart from devaulated headgear, their look and attitude somewhat declined and teams that used to their level took to pushing them around.My patience is wearing thin, but i already declared myself a Kings team fan (love the

The little conversation Is over very soon And I watch in admiration From my corner of the room. They shine on you with starry eyes... They rain a friendly storm. Like kids around a christmas tree And then you smile all nice and warm The little conversations If I tried my very best You know I never could say anything In twenty words or less. Somewhere, sometime, down the line Someday I may confess, And spill it all. that’s all The little conversations On me are very rough They leave me all in pieces You know there’s never time enough Like a book with missing pages Like a story incomplete Like a painting left unfinished It feels like not enough to eat. Starvin’ These little conversations Well for me they’ll never do Now what am I supposed to do with Broken sentences of you? I’ll stay in my corner `cause That’s all that I can do And let the others speak for me. Little conversations Are we. - Concrete Blonde The hell, i think i'm writing a blog, but all i'm doing is making reviews

i was surprised by the fact that no lyrics of any Cactus World News song can be found on the internet. Of all bands, they seem to forget CWN, one of the most influential groups my short life has been exposed to. Anyway, i took the liberty of transcribing "Years Later" for my own amusement. It's probably not 100% accurate, but here they are: Years Later Through these wretched places where the past has been at one o' clock in the morning it's a totally different scene closing the door of the heart now it's gone with the tide There's a burning post not 20 minutes from right where i stand and all around me is breaking up and getting out of hand things will never be the same again we're five years on so much has gone so soon watching and wearing the same old clothes for years who're you gonna blame this time i'm choking back my fears closing the door of the heart now it's gone closing the door of the heart now it's gone disappeared with the

However healthy I make it sound in my previous dissertations, there comes a point when speaking out becomes all sound and no fury. This is the moment your emotional bank bleeds dry and you find yourself choking on the words you uttered. This applies to most – ranting, raving, being resolute, and saying sorry. Given enough minutes on the microphone – it soon becomes all sound and no fury. Any way, I got my latest installment when I was surreptitiously awakened by a supposedly dry comment about this very blogspot. Yes! I do have an audience so it seems, but I seem to attract the wrong sort…those who can’t relate, and those who do. Anyway, I got into a shouting match over SMS with the archangel herself, and at the last minute I couldn’t stop myself and let out my most vicious harangue to date. While it felt good again, it drained whatever emotions I have inside me and I flattened out like a helium balloon on comedy night. It didn’t feel the same again. Regardless of the reaction (which wa

Funny that as soon as I promised to write more original things, some songs kept leaping to my head begging to be noticed. Well, if it prevents me from being an all out emoticon, by all means… Here is the next installment in my descent to blackness: I see it inside your eyes, Feel it in your soul. A part of you is moving on, The other half is gone. I don’t know what you want from me, No, you lock it all inside. I try to give you everything, But there’s nothing else that I can hide. We’ve been trying so long. You’ve been pushing too hard. You should say what’s wrong and echo what’s right. You need a little space and I need mine. When you and I all alone, it feels so damn crowded. The house we share is not a home when you’re inside it. So, now, I go and pack my things, girl, I must be moving on. I couldn’t stand to face you, So i, I guess that’s why I wrote this song. You’ve been trying so long. We’ve been pushing too hard. You should say what’s wrong and echo what’s right. You need a lit

i was expecting a new twist to the Harry Potter series, but this one caught me completely off guard. The story was told mostly as is, although the pacing was furious, but it never dawned on me that we were sitting through a 2 1/2 hour movie. anyway, it touched me that the book and the movie's treatment of Harry clutching Diggory's dead body after escaping You-Know-Who were the same, and that my reaction to both were similar. "He told me to bring back his body." All thetime Harry was sobbing, and i was acting as if my contact lenses had leaked. Unitentionally, Harry had caused the death of a noble adversary, but he had the wits and the conviction to honor his friend's wish by bringing him back at any cost. Can the same be true to any of you out there? Most of my friends would, but i know someone who would probably make up excuses instead and just be glad to get out alive...you know who. the only damper to my movie experience was my boss calling and me not answering

my poetry teacher used to warn me about using swear words and the like when writing poems. She said it dates the work (probably in the artist's blue period) and that in the long run, you would probably wish you didn't use the word. bullshit. I don't usually swear in writing, but at least i mean it during the few times i do. check the smashing pumpkins song downstairs. the great thing about ranting is that once you run out of steam, that's it. I was never a guy who planned elaborate acts of revenge, as i feel it is self-serving. but forget those psychotherapy babbles about controlling yourself. fear leads to pain, pain leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate -- that's all Yoda crap. if he was so damn great, why couldn't he string up a decent conversation at any point in Star Wars? at the height of the maelstrom, i even forgot what i was so angry about. but you can't blame me, as i had a smorgasbord of choices. in the end, i decided i was angry at myself for

I'm never coming back I'm never giving in I'll never be the shine in your spit I disconnect the act I disconnect the dots I disconnect the me in me And you're mistaken, It's you that's faking Living and breathing and dying too This message is for anyone who dares to hear a fool You can't bring me back, you can't bring me back Cause I give it all back to you Thru sacred alleys, the living wrecks Wreak their havoc upon this world The disenchanted, the romantics, The body and face and soul of you is gone down that deep black hole Destroy the mind-destroy the body-but you cannot destroy the heart And you, you make me so I need to disconnect And you make it so real I don't need your love to disconnect To runaround kids in get-go cars With vaseline afterbirths and neon coughs Galaxies full of nobodies Giving us the farewell runarounds I took a virgin mary axe to his sweet baby jane, lost my innocence to a no good girl, scratch my face with anvil hands, and

Don't believe the devil I don't believe her book But the truth is not the same without the lies she made up... ...I don't believe in ____ her type like a curse Instant karma's gonna get her if I don't get her first... ...I feel like I'm falling like I'm spinning on a wheel It always stops beside a name a presence I can feel - U2, "God Part II" -they say it's for JL but it's probably John Lennon It is kinda strange but the brunt of truth is not really the same if not for the exposition of the hidden. Deception can only take you far, but in reality it can always be felt.

Every 52 years or so, the Aztec day calendar (260 days) and calendar of the years (52 years, 365 days) would align, and this was a cause of great celebration. A feast of 12 days would ensue, where all pots and vessels would be broken and all fires extinguished. The highlight of the festivities would be a human sacrifice, where the heart would be cut out (still beating) and replaced with a piece of wood. This same wood will be used to light the first fire, and be distributed among the people so that normalcy would ensue. In a recent New Year celebration gone wrong, the priest himself was tied up and readied for sacrifice. It may have gone wrong, but the event still went smoothly. After all, the priest realized that the continuity of the world was at stake and he made a choice. All the fires were out and everybody was waiting for the new one. If ever, Quetzacotl would take care of vengeance. Fires were lighted on this man's heart, and the plight of ordinary days were restored. Change

The dawn is breaking A light shining through You're barely waking And I'm tangled up in you Yeah But I'm open, you're closed Where I follow, you'll go I worry I won't see your face Light up again Even the best fall down sometimes Even the wrong words seem to rhyme Out of the doubt that fills my mind I somehow find, you and I collide I'm quiet, you know You make a first impression I've found I'm scared to know I'm always on your mind Even the best fall down sometimes Even the stars refuse to shine Out of the back you fall in time You somehow find, you and I collide Don't stop here I've lost my place I'm close behind Even the best fall down sometimes Even the wrong words seem to rhyme Out of the doubt that fills your mind You finally find, you and I collide You finally find You and I collide You finally find You and I collide - Howie Day ----- i posted the lyrics to this song earlier without adding anything, and i realized i must be che

(as requested/ordered by the legendary gourmand KaI, who asked us minor bloggers to put in their favorite streetfood. I did away with the traditional fishball and chicken skin, and so it happened that my final choice made me a bit nostalgic) It’s not much of a story to tell, as my childhood was spent mostly indoors pitting action figure versus action figure, coloring inside the lines, conversing with Sesame Street characters, or reading any book I can find. My pasty figure and primary complex often exempted me from taguan pung , patintero , tanching , and other physically exacting tasks. Even if I get the luxury of doing so, I almost always have to have a towel placed on my back – superboy hiding his cape. I do remember the mornings where we children get out of bed and scramble outside the front door whenever we heard that bicycle horn tooting merrily. It’s not taho , not puto , and not even binatog … It could only mean the bote dyaryo man offering to exchange his cheese curls with any

Part 1: Fairy Tales can come true We’ve all heard the fairy tale. Dragon abducts the princess and imprisons her in the tower. Knight (latest of a series) travels far and wide to rescue the princess. Mind you, not just rescue. Damn asshole has to show the block he’s a man and slay the dragon. For most of you kiddies out there, end of story. Happy ever after. “Marry my daughter, says the king, and I’ll throw in a free kingdom to boot!” As I grew older, I realized I never was the knightly type. Armor chafes me, and charging at an immortal being that is known for being captivating, wise, and powerful… Why would you do that? And what are the odds? A typical fairy tale’s final score would end with Knights 100, Dragon 1. I can’t be one of the knights. And God knows I need a rescuing every now and then. ---- Part 2: The Knight Let’s hear it for the knight. Noble being, all dressed in shiny armor, and in actual medieval cases, is sworn to a life of celibacy. Or cluelessness. The objective here

so sorry i haven't been my usual self and haven't done much to add to this blog. i've been busy lately. i'm presently serving time under house arrest. Friday night to Monday morning, i'll be incarcerated at home with only an hour each day for sunshine, exercise and the car wash. having it washed earlier was a moving experience, especially for the car. Strangely, I was amazed at how some high pressure hose and some soap seem to have washed off not just the dirt but the sins of my past few weeks. From my car and from me. Each spray of the hose gave a calming effect on my nerves and my sanity seemed to creep back into me. My thoughts creep into my recent adventures and somehow, everything cancels each other out, leaving me just a bit tired but nothing else. It's funny that watching your car undergo a deep rubdown seems to clear your mind as well. Especially when i can't be bothered to read a book, or even write an entry lately. Work is already a killer, but im

( Publisher's Note: i am already delirious with the thought of converting that suggestive title into a steamy novel, and visions of money bags coming from film rights and royalties are dancing around my head. Like the sleazy Pinoy director, i might even get to pick the cast...and in today's crisis, stars will do anything to get the lead role. Unfortunately, the contents of today's journal are nothing like what the title suggests.) Some things you take for granted. You do them without much thought. Getting up to go to work. Checking your wallet and your cell before locking the front door. And going around the car before you ride in it. Going from house to the office is a neverending decision on which way to go, yet you always take the common sensical approach and still drive down the usual route. This is the curious case of how i see my day will shape up. The presence of two omens are my daily oracle, and i have no idea when or how it started. Commercial Rant Let me rant ab

This one I wanted to write about long ago. Thankfully, now I have the time and the effort to do so. Notice how every car’s driver gets offended when a passenger suddenly turns up the dial, switches stations, or ejects the current CD? It’s natural. Passengers violate the sacred rule of driving. He who drives, has control of the whole car – acceleration, brakes, door locks, windshield wipers (even the small jet of water from those tiny holes in the hood), and most of all… The car stereo. It’s a given. Passengers ride with you, and in return, you get to push the buttons and turn the dials. It’s nothing dictatorial nor despotic. By stepping into the car, they entrust their lives to you, a demigod with a license to plow the streets of EDSA. At the very least, they can show their appreciation by letting you choose The Cure over The Cascades. My mom is one of those “I bought the car, so I choose the sounds” type of person. She always rants about “sweet music,” but in decades of experience liv

what the hell is a rain check anyway??? how did something so innocuous a pair of words evolve into something that means "next time na lang?" i'm on the belief that somewhere we'll never know, a cabal of intellectuals meet every 3 months and decide which words goes into the mass consciousness. there must a secret conclave that pairs random words together and make them into a new colloquial expression. take rain check. checks are good as cash. PDCs are unknown everywhere else but the Philippines. So having a check is having ready cash. Then rain. Rain is weather. It may sound somber, but there is nothing wrong in the word itself. anyway, the secret shadowy organization would probably conduct their meeting like this: "Hey Joe, i thought you couldn't make it to this conference?" "I was supposed to go on vacation with my secretary, but she cancelled last minute. Mumbled something about the weather being bad and all." "Rain, huh? Would probably

I’m all lost in the supermarket I can no longer shop happily I came in here for that special offer A guaranteed personality I wasn’t born so much as I fell out Nobody seemed to notice me We had a hedge back home in the suburbs Over which I never could see I heard the people who lived on the ceiling Scream and fight most scarily Hearing that noise was my first ever feeling That’s how it’s been all around me I’m all tuned in, I see all the programmes I save coupons from packets of tea I’ve got my giant hit discotheque album I empty a bottle and I feel a bit free The kids in the halls and the pipes in the walls Make me noises for company Long distance callers make long distance calls And the silence makes me lonely And it’s not here It disappears I’m all lost - "Lost in the Supermarket," The Clash ------- we spent the better part of sunday going to Makro Cubao. Just by looking at enormity of the place, i just realized i don't need most of the god awful things ever invented b

Here are some proposed topics to give justification to the disk space used: 1. Music and my state of mind 2. If you love your job, why do you insist being paid every 15 days? 3. Jobs you would rather have than this. 4. The virtue of selfishness 5. Do writers have to be great readers? 6. All-time fantasy travel itinerary

The wandering gourmand...Attention TV producers, we may have a new concept for a reality show here! Seriously, your passion for food and your thirst for walking the earth make a nice combination, and somehow, you always get to tiptoe in between these two worlds. Considering that i consider cheese sticks and beer as a major source of calcium, this is kinda refreshing in some ways. Meanwhile, the rest of us mere mortals write about angst, boredom, loss (or gain) of a loved one, sexual jitters, or money and the lack of it. Where people describe the hallucinogenic experience of taking LSD, you were able to talk about the psychological effects of inhaling the aroma of new broth, or the sensuality of slicing puto the old-fashioned way. Including your poems from long ago, i can safely conclude that you work best when you're hungry.

actually, this isn't my first time to put up a blog, but i have been disappointed with my first two attempts. both times, i went inside, secure in my belief that what i will create is something far from the mundane, a refreshing repository of ideas (no matter how banal, impractical, or downright stupid) that will at least in the long run assure me that older is really wiser. anyway, why do we blog? have you ever played the role of Secret Keeper? except from the concern arising from the possibly dangerous or embarassing consequences of spilling the beans, there is nothing to motivate a person to keep one's thoughts to themselves? Why should you? ideas are meant to be explored, in as much the same way as a bomb is always designed to go off. Of course, in most cases, bombs and ideas are best left deactivated. Blogs are a great way to unhinge the lid. Blogging is also a very rewarding experience for the vain and selfish - which is all of us for one time or another. The sanctity of