By Wild Ice
Here sat the monitor in front of me. It cursed me over and over and took control of the mouse for one hundred twenty seconds leading me to this blank space and uttered, "Write about it."
"About what?" I responded with my usual foul-mouthed mind mouth.
"About that." The friggin' monitor pointed to the contents of my bombarded inner universe.
Getting tired of this futile guessing game, I replied, "There's a great myriad of things in there."
"Exactly."
"Note that I just rent PC's, honey, and I ain't no rich kid (unlike those you find in the net who usually pretend they own the world and can buy the Jaguars in Bush's expansive garage). "
"But it's what you do, right?" The monitor sounded like that old woman in the Twister movie. "You write about the truth your head contain. The truth that you find everyday.."
I paused and thought of everything for a while (with segways of silent curses). I have a lot of things to say--to you, to myself, to the world... What the hell are you talking about?!! (I'm impressed that I manage to self-censor to somehow control the growing number of bad words I use in my blogs. But believe me, in my head, there's more than just those).
I am actually on the verge of dropping atomic bombs to certain stuff (and people, I may add) but I said, "No, not now... What the heck?" It's not that I'm always mad; It's just that I'm very... Oh, god, what's the correct word for it? 'Cynic'? No. Damn, I can't even describe it. But what the heck---billions of bloggers are posting in every three seconds on earth. And I'm tired of the same stuff (there goes one thought off my chest!!!). I've submitted myself for over a year now in the mundane world to try to understand the whole thing about being such and it's indeed fucking boring (there goes another with the freedom of the 'F' word to flirt over the webs of your network!!!). It's time to live again. I think I've learned enough about the whole 'Mainstream' thing.
No, it's not time for a change. It's time to resurrect. Give me time to kill this Mr. Mundane James tonight.
"That's what I'm talking about," The monitor gave me that mischievious smirk.
By Wild Ice
Is that what most people would think of me?? Hmmmm.... Is it my style? Hmmm.. I may be but I may not be!!!
First stop: Padi's Point at Mall of Asia. It was the reunion of my fourth year class. It had been like almost four years... Right? I don't know---do the math!!! My mind skips the part when I get to compute (unless it is in terms of my allowance!!). One of the first impression I got from my classmates was "WOW!! Rockerrr?!!!"
Huh?!
Um, okay. So we escaped the event because my group of friends, my co-Myrmidons, had to hop--and I mean HOP--out of the place and into another.
Second stop: Embassy. It took a while for us to get inside since there were some technical problems but it became easy for us to get in, particularly Mitch,some other new friend (what was his name again???), and me. All of a sudden, the three of us were part of the "guest list". Of course, I have to thank Yanna's step sister, Ella, and Anne for a very cunning strategy----rock and roll!!!
We climbed the stairs and the beat came louder and louder and before we knew it, we were inside this spectacle of strobe lights, lasers, and unstoppable motions on the music-bathed floor. We found our way into the healthy (and wealthy) crowd and started to do our own thing. Of course I was on my nerdy side for a while as I took note of everything around me and then we started doing our thing on the floor.
Segway: before we came in, our friend David (AKA Ching---David sounds better, eh?) was telling us how some 'rocker' people were teased (verbally attacked and so on) for coming into such place.
I'm no rocker---so why the hell should I care? But was he pertaining to me? Afterall, I "looked" like a (motherfucking) "rocker". It sort of made me feel a little 'in control' when I was on the floor---I ventured not to do much.
It wasn't me. Hell.
Last hop: Cococabana. We finally settled there to spend the rest of the very early morning with the feeling of unsatisfaction since we only get to spend little time in Embassy. There was this one of Ella's friends by the name of Sean who suddenly came to sit beside us at the table and asked if we were 'rockers'. I suddenly thought of throwing the dishes and my Zombie on the floor--but hell no. I simply answered, "no."
All right, wrong adverb. I had a huge question mark on my face and a high-pitched voice when I said it---ready to defend ourselves. In Yanna and David's case, they were accidently wearing black shirts. And well, you know me, I LIKE BLACK. Well, Michelle Madrigal is at another table and she's wearing some friggin' black dress. But she ain't no rocker (I guess!!).
Is black the definition of a rocker??
Hell, no. Then, Sean added if we were some 'emo' or something. "No, no, no, no..." I responded calmly though I was suddenly alarmed by this sudden realization (people think I'm a rocker!!!). We drove home and continued to party inside the vehicle with a loud music (courtesy of the girl called "Kikay"). And hell no shall a rocker dance into the music of N.E.R.D. and Chris Brown in a fucking car like I did!!!
Do I really look like a damn rocker??
No, people of the world, I'm turning down such impression: I'm not a friggin' rocker.
Damn it. Wearing black doesn't make one an emo, a rocker, nor a goth. Get it?? Fine.
Still, who cares?! Fine, go ahead and judge. It's no big deal. It's just that.. Hmmm... Maybe I am a rocker.... Huh... Yeah, maybe...
MAYBE.
By Wild Ice
This time I have to greatly apologize for my favorite character lately, Kiyoshi, for my extreme suffering of Writer's Block. Damn it!! just a few days ago, I was trying to finish his book and I can't believe I was slightly losing it.
Kiyoshi was there. But he also lost that smooth flow of words. He was losing it. And I thought that this would be a great book (not for all, but for some who could experience the same). I thought it was doing good. Looking back at the plot, I thought of lack of taste.
Looking at the narration, things were swell!!
But really, I'm losing it and I'm almost there, Kiyoshi... Hang on. You know the best thing in here is that there is no deadline. But really, I need to finish this (it doesn't even have any friggin' title yet!!!). I have a lot in store and I don't know where to begin.
It's all due to this writer's block.
I can't believe it would take years to finish. The pen smoothly paced the surface of the papers the time I started and the following weeks. Then, it stopped. It's this rough and treacherous surface.
Help!
By Wild Ice
Some says that answering "surveys" gives people a clue of what you're up to these days and how you're doing or simply who the hell you are. By this time then, I figured to answer some survey which would express (hopefully) how I've been doing these days. Good luck (for understanding):
1. Inlove right now?
-No.
2. With whom?
-Nyeta!! With nobody, ass!!
3. Have you ever kissed someone with the same sex on the lips?
- Funny, yeah.
4. Who was it?
- I don't kiss and tell. It's not someone I'm inlove with, really...
5. Are you mad with someone now?
- Funny you should ask--yeah!!! I mean--HELL YEAH!!!
6. And who is that unlucky person?
- A professor--not Prof M. this time. (clue: when you dissect a frog, she looks like the frog. Oh, another clue, she smokes weed I guess---she's an ass, big time).
7. What do you want to do to her?
- Have her ambushed. And then I'll probably drive her crazy until she goes down to hell. Wait a second---why have my malevolence broadcasted all of a sudden??
8. When was the last time you had sex with someone?
- Before I went to bed on my past life (damn it!! D'you have to ask?? I haven't done shit ever!!)
9. Who is/are the person/s you look up to?
- Britney Spears (subtract the drugs, the number of comic "I do's"---yeah, I love her).
10. Who was the last person ever to call you at this moment?
- Hahahahaha.. That would be a secret.
11. What/who makes you smile lately?
- That NIGHT!! That TOUCH!!! DAMN IT--that fucking touch!!! Wooohooo!! HEhehehe... We were drunk and they came and... I never thought we could get close for a while.. (flirt)
12. Who are you talking about?
- It's a secret. Well, we're not really into something.. Just that we haven't reached anything yet.. except that touch!!
13. WHat are you, a superstar?? Come on, tell us....
- Bitch!!! What are you, an Insider??! I'll tell you guys if something big happens.. It's not really that significant right now.
14. Fine, whatever..
- Since when did surveys learn how to speak?
15. Since when did people being asked questions get to ask questions back to surveys?
- Now.
16. Exactly, that's what I'm trying to say.
- Ass.
17. Moving on, what word describes who you are right now?
- Freaky.
18. What were the funniest words you said lately to your bestfriend?
- ANg libog-libog mo!!!! Ang landi mo talaga--ang libog-libog mo--akala mo hindi ko nakikita yon?! (I actually yelled this to her while her crush was walking just a few feet away from us. It's because I've been observing her hand resting somewhere on that guy while we were having some conversations yesterday).
19. If you were to ask me a question, what would it be?
- Refer to my answer at number fifteen.
20. Did you enjoy my survey?
- Uh, who are you again??
By Wild Ice
We are already aware of the danger that something may deliver to us when we see those huge black letters against the yellow background spelling the word "WARNING" or "CAUTION". Now there's this one clause which gave me the chills and tend to act like those informative words: "Burn your Midnight." coming from none other than Prof M (yes!! Once more it is SHE). If you are not yet familiar with Prof M, she's like a god---she will get you moving and tends to threaten like thunder when she roars at your mistakes---millions of words to say yet I don't want to describe furthermore. And it's kind of annoying that I have to post a new blog about her after so many effin' months when I made an oath never to post something about her in my blogs.
But here I am hammering that promise into pieces by pounding on the keyboard.
Back to her words: "BURN YOUR MIDNIGHT". It is when she mentioned that it's our fourth year in the campus and that it would not be easy anymore to pass her course----and that we would have to burn our midnight to do so!!! I'm not sure if it is some kind of idiomatic expression but I have the connotation that it goes well with the lines "sleepless nights", "stressed and exhausted", and "hardworking but socially inactive".
This is such a great opportunity right now to tell all of you people that you may stop expecting that I'd gain some more weight---talk about coming back to my stressful life!!
Forecast: Next blog posts would most likely to be some angry post filled with curses and complaints.
By Wild Ice
We keep on pointing out mistakes of other people about grammar (this may include me since I am an English Major), but come to think of it, we Filipinos would never give a damn about OUR OWN GRAMMAR.
It's kind of odd--but I guess it's one act which symbolizes our lack of love for our motherland. People may say that they "say these and talk like this because it's the WAY IT IS". But---hey, are we aware of our grammartical errors when we speak, and most especially, when we write, in Filipino??!
One thing I would like to point out is the use of the words ng, nang, and na'ng. Don't tell me you are a Filipino and yet you don't know the difference between the three words-----curse yourself if you really don't!!!
See? It's one of our common errors but do we take note of it? No. Why? Because we think more of the grammar as part of the English (or foreign) language. How about ours?? Don't you have time and think about it for a while? Have you been saying things properly? Have you been always clear of what you say?
Most of us don't sound like a true Filipino anymore. I can't blame anyone since we are somehow (this is an understatement) colonized. But come on, for crying out loud----let's be Filipino when we need to be one...
I mean, we may still speak English (it's our second language) but let's give also importance to our first language.
But maybe it's natural. Take a look at the Americans; They speak English yet they sometimes have problems with their grammar (even Bush is a victim of false grammar). So maybe it's the way language is----we keep on talking and talking as long as we get to say what we want to---even if it risks the ability of the receiver to comprehend the message of the speaker.
Hmmm... *shrugs* Go and see your Filipino teacher for more info.
By Wild Ice
Everything has a price. For example, it was raining hard one Thursday evening and I had to go home because it was getting late. I was with some friends at my classmate Gina's house for her birthday celebration while we let the flood at that street go down.
I bid goodbye lastly to my superfriend and went on my own way past the highway. When I reached the other side, I encountered the stinky flood waiting for my arrival along with some stranded people. I found some sort of improvised "bridge" built at one place. As I was about to cross it, two children came up to me and started telling me excitedly, "Dos!! Dos!!"
My pride at that moment was as high as my stinginess so I raised an eyebrow and asked, "Dos?!" I turned away and walked down the highway instead----as if I were someone important when I'm not really. I just couldn't take the fact that they have to ask payment for such a help--but on the other hand, it's like "hey!! They probably need to earn some money. After all, it's the Philippines." So in the end, I was the loser--though I managed to save up two pesos.
Rock on.
I found myself walking beside the railway and wondered if there is such thing as quick sand in the city. At that very moment, I started sinking into one (Paenaan Camp Part Two!!!). MY SHOES!!! I got off the long track and climbed the skyway to cross the road and walked down the railway where I kept thinking it would be the last moment of my life.
I got off the track (whew!!) and found a terribly flooded street in front of me. I found some haven----Cityland!! There was enough elevation to avoid the fierceness that the huge stinky mass of water was possessing. I stayed at the condo for so many fucking hours!!!
But there was little entertainment as I managed to feast my eyes onto numerous eye candies. There were lots of them--I even tailed one of them!! (I was in my flirty mood at that time so I forgave the flood).
I managed to get home after three hours and forty minutes of waiting for someone to hook me up (what can I do? I'm single and in my greatest state of drought!!!). I went around Buendia and found a good chance to get closer to... home. After a few more minutes of standing on the sidewalk (and watching another eye candy), I used a rock to get over one torrent of flood and then jumped over another and finally walked (note: WITH GREAT POISE) myself home.
Still, drought hasn't left me. But hey, it was worth keeping two pesos !! All I had to sacrifice was my (ten years of no shining) pair of black leather shoes!!
