Ice Carvings

i usually don't write for lack of material. Ergo, also the reason why i always crib from someone else's ideas for time to time. lately however, it's been the opposite, as a lot of things have been going on but somehow, i can't lift my fingers to do some typing. i guess it's easier to write when you're anguished rather than happy. yeah, yeah. pile on the excuses. had a monster game last night at basketball, something i haven't done for a while. it helped as i was playing with old friends rene and robin, plus new officemate/blood brother rolli. makes the game much easier if your teammates knew how to catch a ball and shoot accurately. rolli is pretty great at playing point, and creating his own shots. last night was different because my shots were still wild but were falling in. anyway, we demolished a team that consisted of the best in the tuesday night lot. We even dubbed it RP vs. Chinese Taipei. How's that for a little national pride? Guess they'll...

Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status quo. You can praise them, disagree with them, quote them, disbelieve them, glorify them, or villify them. About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They invent. They imagine. They heal. They explore. They create. They inspire. They push the human race forward. Maybe they have to be crazy. How else can you stare at an empty canvas and see a work of art? or sit in silence and hear a song that's never been written? or gaze at a red planet and see a laboratory on wheels? We make tools for these kings of people. because while some see them as the crazy ones, we...

Some mornings I hate more than others. Waking up at 6 am once a week to beat the cursed color coding scheme is one of the most dreaded things to do in the name of working for a living. Why do they call it color-coding anyway when they look at your plate number? If the name doesn’t make sense, it should be illegal and thus be banned. Anyway, I dread Tuesday mornings for a number of dread reasons. Being shouted at, nudged, slapped, or shaken awake is a bad start. Ok, so the eyes open, but the rest of your body didn’t get the message, so they just lie there quietly, waiting for your eyes to forget what it saw. Being an impartial judge, I always declare that when it comes to my body, the majority should always win. Unfortunately, Nel has managed to secure veto rights and is dragging me down the stairs at 6:10 am by my hair. Coding days will subject you to the real definition of breakfast: a piece of broken-down bread, which you have to eat fast. A complete, delicious or nutritious is a lux...

made a tactical mistake earlier by driving to UP for the 6 pm mass. the place is a virtual standstill, with all major buildings crawling with 4th year high school applicants all wanting to get in. yep, it's that time of the year for the much-awaited UPCAT. and i didn't even have enough sense to avoid the whole of diliman during this time. anyway, while we were driving aimlessly in the hopes of getting a fast lane, i saw this year's batch of hopefuls. since the exams were over, most of the faces i saw were of despair. i don't know the statistics right now, but i guess it's about 1 in 10 exam takers will be lucky to get in. And it's not even luck, but brains. Anxious parents, siblings and friends also littered the area, as they wait for their charges to climb back into the car and spend the next few months waiting for The Letter. That simple, computer generated letter containing 1 or 2 paragraphs telling you if you made it or not. rewind a decade and a half or so....

went out by my lonesome last friday night, as i had a job to do. My destination that night was a bit too extreme for nel who promptly requested to stay home, and my best friend backed out earlier. so i was left to observe the Red Horse Muziklaban elims at Mayric's. Last time i went to Mayric's the band was advent call and the beer was around 15 pesos a bottle. and those were the bad times. I arrived a bit before nine, and the place was already filled. it doesn't take much to book the entire bar, as it was one of the smallest functioning bars in Manila, but i think they did manage to pack in more people that night. My ID worked wonders as i managed to part the crowd and seat myself near the judges' table. Turned out that one of the judges was a good friend of mine from the production days. Finagled a couple of glasses of red horse (courtesy of the company of course) and proceeded to watch the show in relative peace. I didn't want to disturb the judges so much but i c...

Now and then Do you wash your hands off me again? Wish me anywhere but home Drunk and on the end of your phone From time to time Do you guess what's really on my mind? Guess that "How you keeping now?" Means "Where are you sleeping now" But of course it's not polite To ask you where you spent last night And if I did you might reply That I have no right And anyway I'm fine Glad that you're no longer mine If I should tell a lie I'll cross my heart and hope to die You'd be appalled If you knew what I was doing When you called Yes, I can see I'm blundering Always end up wondering Will it ever be alright To ask you where you spent last night And can it be polite The way we never write, Of course I don't have the time, And anyway I'm fine If I should tell a lie I'll cross my hear and hope to die EBTG, "Cross my Heart" ---- sigh! another one of those songs i wish i'd written. One of thos songs back in the 80s that used ...