Tuesday, February 28, 2012
JOHN ATKINSON GRIMSHAW
I have this literature book which I read again and again and I happen to see this really great painting by an Englishman named John Atkinson Grimshaw. He is said to be a famous painter of night scenes and landscapes during the Victorian era. His paintings are so beautiful that I was inspired to make a poem about one named "After the Shower" but it is sucky so I won't be posting it. But here are his works and I would really like to have some of them in my blog. Images from Wikipaintings.
THE NIGHT I GOT DRUNK
It was Saturday night. After "hosting" the Premed party, I felt strangely weird and empty. We were having an afterparty in one the city's well-known bars. For a moment there I though I should just stay at the hotel room and watch a cartoon at 2 AM or something. But then, a louder voice screamed in my head saying, For months, you've been wondering what to do to get out of this mundane existence, you idiot and now you want to sleep!? Now's the chance! Go grab it." So I went with them.
At first, I was kind of regretting the fact that I was there, just standing in the midst of these scandalous people groping each other and dancing. The music was blaring from the speakers, I can't hear anyone, it was so crowded and it was dark. I have been to places like this before and the feeling's still the same. Maybe I'm just not suited into going to places such as nightclubs and bars but I thought I should just stay for a little bit longer.
Before I went with my classmates, I told them that if there was a chance, I would try to get myself drunk, just to know what it feels like. But actually it's more than that.
So, the drinks came. Filling the plastic cups was this orange liquid with shaved ice. It tasted fruity at first, then the spirits kicked in with a bitter aftertaste. I drank one glass in several gulps, then finished it up. I asked for more from my overly tipsy classmate and then gulped some more. While the people were dancing and gyrating around me, I just sat there, drinking cup after cup. I just went on and on, until everything started to change gradually.
My girl classmates asked me repeated inquiries if I felt OK but maybe they were half-convinced of my weak nods and thumbs-ups so they took me outside for some air. I almost couldn't walk straight. There must've been hundreds of eyes staring at me but I didn't felt it at that moment. I was just dazed with what I was seeing. Everything was like zoomed in to my face, my astigmatic vision became sharp and vivid. The blaring sound became muffled and every movement of my body seemed to be slowed down. I remarked repeatedly how weird it was and my friends just asked me with all these confusing questions until someone led us back inside.
I collapsed on a chair and upon finding more orange glasses in the table in front of me, I just drank them all without thinking. I don't know what compelled me into continuing to gorge myself with alcohol, I just did. I laid my head on the sofa's headboard and the last thing I've ever remembered was that I was being tossed into the hotel bed.
I woke up, in my underwear (covered by those thick fluffy hotel blankets) and my friends were all around me. They practically gasped in relief when I woke up and the first thing I asked was what did I do the night before. They chuckled. I shuddered.
According to them, I was silent when I was drunk. But there was one point when I banged and punched on the bar's CR shouting "fuck the world, fuck life" and being so wasted that I was practically kneeling on the floor with my head down. It is a much longer story than this but I decided not to say more.
That morning, I felt like crap. I felt like I was going to vomit any moment and my head felt like it was being gnawed by some cerebral parasite or something. That was what a hangover felt like. Even until now, my entire body itches like hell (my darn genes made me allergic to alcohol and all).
I'm not proud of what I did and I probably won't be doing it again sometime. But atleast I (and my friends) will have something to laugh about in the future. Of how, wasted I was last Saturday. Haha.
At first, I was kind of regretting the fact that I was there, just standing in the midst of these scandalous people groping each other and dancing. The music was blaring from the speakers, I can't hear anyone, it was so crowded and it was dark. I have been to places like this before and the feeling's still the same. Maybe I'm just not suited into going to places such as nightclubs and bars but I thought I should just stay for a little bit longer.
Before I went with my classmates, I told them that if there was a chance, I would try to get myself drunk, just to know what it feels like. But actually it's more than that.
So, the drinks came. Filling the plastic cups was this orange liquid with shaved ice. It tasted fruity at first, then the spirits kicked in with a bitter aftertaste. I drank one glass in several gulps, then finished it up. I asked for more from my overly tipsy classmate and then gulped some more. While the people were dancing and gyrating around me, I just sat there, drinking cup after cup. I just went on and on, until everything started to change gradually.
My girl classmates asked me repeated inquiries if I felt OK but maybe they were half-convinced of my weak nods and thumbs-ups so they took me outside for some air. I almost couldn't walk straight. There must've been hundreds of eyes staring at me but I didn't felt it at that moment. I was just dazed with what I was seeing. Everything was like zoomed in to my face, my astigmatic vision became sharp and vivid. The blaring sound became muffled and every movement of my body seemed to be slowed down. I remarked repeatedly how weird it was and my friends just asked me with all these confusing questions until someone led us back inside.
I collapsed on a chair and upon finding more orange glasses in the table in front of me, I just drank them all without thinking. I don't know what compelled me into continuing to gorge myself with alcohol, I just did. I laid my head on the sofa's headboard and the last thing I've ever remembered was that I was being tossed into the hotel bed.
I woke up, in my underwear (covered by those thick fluffy hotel blankets) and my friends were all around me. They practically gasped in relief when I woke up and the first thing I asked was what did I do the night before. They chuckled. I shuddered.
According to them, I was silent when I was drunk. But there was one point when I banged and punched on the bar's CR shouting "fuck the world, fuck life" and being so wasted that I was practically kneeling on the floor with my head down. It is a much longer story than this but I decided not to say more.
That morning, I felt like crap. I felt like I was going to vomit any moment and my head felt like it was being gnawed by some cerebral parasite or something. That was what a hangover felt like. Even until now, my entire body itches like hell (my darn genes made me allergic to alcohol and all).
I'm not proud of what I did and I probably won't be doing it again sometime. But atleast I (and my friends) will have something to laugh about in the future. Of how, wasted I was last Saturday. Haha.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
REALITY CHECK
Man, I should really check out what I'm writing these days. Though I admit, I may have a strong style when it comes to feature writing where I can just scribble on with my unconventional sputtering but with other disciplines of writing, I suck. I don't know know how to write news. I don't know how to write sports. And recently, I found out that I also suck when it comes to literary works.
I read my short story "Errands" from last year's Scribe, our school's literary folio and realized that the plot is poorly developed, the character does illogical actions, several gaping plot holes, bad transitions, lack of coherence and that general feel of crappiness. It was only published because I was required to contribute, being an editor, and there was also some kind of a shortage in entries. So without much careful criticism and fuss, my story was published and there goes my material, spreading around for everyone to read and be frustrated about.
There are a lot of good writers in my school, only that they don't do journalistic articles. They have probably sneered and flipped tables when they read my story, exclaiming "I can do better than this piece of crap!". Yeah, it's that crappy. As a writer (or pseudo-writer) you are the best judge of your own work because you know your capabilities and you know how your work should look like, and what it would convey. Your mind is the birthplace of that idea and your skills will show how you can convey that idea according to what you envisioned.
I probably had that intoxication after writing my story, where my brain became to fuzzy to edit it and deemed it immediately as a good one when it is otherwise. Writer's goggles. Sorta like, beer goggles. You get back and you read the work you did haphazardly a week ago and then the errors that you took for granted will bite your face.
This time, we're making the 2012 issue. And I'm contributing again.
I should be writing more these days. OK.
I read my short story "Errands" from last year's Scribe, our school's literary folio and realized that the plot is poorly developed, the character does illogical actions, several gaping plot holes, bad transitions, lack of coherence and that general feel of crappiness. It was only published because I was required to contribute, being an editor, and there was also some kind of a shortage in entries. So without much careful criticism and fuss, my story was published and there goes my material, spreading around for everyone to read and be frustrated about.
There are a lot of good writers in my school, only that they don't do journalistic articles. They have probably sneered and flipped tables when they read my story, exclaiming "I can do better than this piece of crap!". Yeah, it's that crappy. As a writer (or pseudo-writer) you are the best judge of your own work because you know your capabilities and you know how your work should look like, and what it would convey. Your mind is the birthplace of that idea and your skills will show how you can convey that idea according to what you envisioned.
I probably had that intoxication after writing my story, where my brain became to fuzzy to edit it and deemed it immediately as a good one when it is otherwise. Writer's goggles. Sorta like, beer goggles. You get back and you read the work you did haphazardly a week ago and then the errors that you took for granted will bite your face.
This time, we're making the 2012 issue. And I'm contributing again.
I should be writing more these days. OK.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
ANOTHER PHOTOSET
I might be getting a bit overboard with this photography thing. Yeah, I know I'm a mediocre lensman (I don't even know if I deserve became called like that). I still a lot to learn on tinkering with the DSLR and playing on the lights and shadows, and on editing to get the proper adjustments but I hope I'm improving. These were taken about 6 months ago at the Guerrero Farms in Concepcion, Talisay during our Team Building in our Pub.
It's supposed to be arranged in a way that it has a story but I'm too lazy to do so, so, there they are!!!
Friday, February 17, 2012
ANOTHER ONE
Me. With a huge pimple in my right cheek, a disturbingly maniacal grin, two pre-impacted wisdom teeth, thinning and eternally messy hair. Alone at the office.
I dunno why I have been posting lots of stuff lately. Useless stuff that is.
Anyway, who cares? ^_^
THEY'RE HUMAN
I just can't skip and forget these. Photos by Daniella Rech and Billy Rood from Victoria's Secret Fashion Shows 2010 and 2011
MEXICO FANBOY
Arrrgh...my wisdom teeth are killing me. They're burrowing through my cheeks and I can't even close mt mouth properly. I can't eat properly, I can't speak properly, I can't be myself properly. Damn, these teeth have the great impacts on the lives of many poor teenagers out there, including me.
To continue with my Mexican post, yeah, so Mexico, it's just so awesome. It's on the top of my list for countries to go to. After reading Aztec, there are just so many things that I want to see and touch in this populous country. I want to see Popocatepetl, climb the Pyramid of the Sun in Teotihuacan, see Motecozuma's relics in the museums, hear a genuine Nahuatl speaker and meet the comely women...
I swear, in one of my dreams, I imagined myself as a scribe in Texcoco or a Mexicatl warrior wielding a maquahuitl and slaying my Texcaltecatl enemies, or an artist in Tenochtitlan, painting walls with murals or shaping rocks into images of gods and goddesses. I would always walk by the great pyramid, and see the mighty silhouette of the edifice every afternoon during the sunset. I would walk the streets of the Tlaltelolco market, with people jostling all about and sellers laying their wares on the laid cloth on the ground, jars and pots and herbs and clay figurines. I would eat tlaxcala and the tenderly cooked fowl meat (it was also noted that the Aztecs were cannibals), topped with rich red moli sauce and drink frothy chocolate every morning. There would be danger and new sights wherever I go around the Cem Anahuac; unfriendly tribes, jungle monsters, flowery wars and the landscape that varies from barren deserts to eternally wet and verdant rainforests. There would be ceremonies in the heart of the One World, colorful spectacles, with pipiltin wearing resplendent feathered mantles and women bejeweled with gold. The drums would be the loudest sounds ever to be heard except the forks being thrown by Tlaloc at the skies.
Whoah. That was like, a vision or some sort. Maybe I'm just to absorbed with what I'm reading now. I'm on the part where Cortes arrived and started to colonize Mexico. Shame that the civilization ended after the Spanish occupied the place. I dunno why I have this connection with their culture. Maybe it's because I have been informed too much by Jennings' book and I started relating to it. Maybe some of the info in his book is inaccurate (after all, it's historical fiction, not historical non-fiction) and Mexican historians might flip their tables at the gaping falsities but with Aztec, it triggered something in me to be really engrossed with the Mexican culture.
I also wonder, with their history, how thick could their children's history school books be? It was like history from the Stone Age, to the Classical periods of the many civilizations, the Olmeca, the Tolteca, the Mayan, the Aztec, then a huge chunk to the Colonial period. Their history may not be as mighty as the Europeans, the Egyptians, the Chinese, the Sumerians; but they were mighty in their own right. They also share the same period with the Philippines' colonial times which is, nice.
This is a long post. So let me conclude this with a couple of pictures.
 |
| El Castillo, Chichen Itza |
 |
| Mayan Ruins in Tulum |
 |
| Cancun, maybe? |
 |
| And her! I can't think of Mexico without her. |
God, I sound weird with what I've just typed.
MIXPANTZINCO!
I dunno, maybe it's because of Aztec, but I feel a strong connection with the Mexican culture these days. There's even this weird wish that I become a Mexican and live in Jalisco, eating tortillas and visiting all these awesome ruins scattered all over the country.
They just have that epic recorded history which stretches down to the Stone age, then occupied by all these civilizations, all of which are great in their own rights. The melting pot of people from these different eras created this rich culture and awesome heritage, and what's even great is, they still have tangible remnants of that.
Philippines and Mexico have that relations which stretch back several centuries ago, when both countries were colonized by the Castilian invaders. I read somewhere that there were ships coming to and fro from the two nations, trading and bringing people. I knew slaves and prisoners from Mexico have been shipped off to the Philippine archipelago for exile. Probably these Mexican mestizos intermarried with the Asian culture here, and the people with Mexican names proliferated.
Aguirre is a surname of Basque origin, between the borders of France and Spain, but from what I've researched, there far too many Aguirres in Mexico, Argentina, and Spain. I daresay, I might even have a drop of Mexican blood in me, but unfortunately the only thing that I seem to have inherited is the height and nothing else. My nose is big and flat unlike the defined noses of Mexican mestizos. My eyes are chinky compared to the luminous, dramatic eyes that they have.
*groan*
I intended this post to be a brief one because we have a super important quiz in one hour but this seems to take more time that it should. OK. I should continue this after the quiz.
But still, I want to be Mexican. Darn.
They just have that epic recorded history which stretches down to the Stone age, then occupied by all these civilizations, all of which are great in their own rights. The melting pot of people from these different eras created this rich culture and awesome heritage, and what's even great is, they still have tangible remnants of that.
Philippines and Mexico have that relations which stretch back several centuries ago, when both countries were colonized by the Castilian invaders. I read somewhere that there were ships coming to and fro from the two nations, trading and bringing people. I knew slaves and prisoners from Mexico have been shipped off to the Philippine archipelago for exile. Probably these Mexican mestizos intermarried with the Asian culture here, and the people with Mexican names proliferated.
Aguirre is a surname of Basque origin, between the borders of France and Spain, but from what I've researched, there far too many Aguirres in Mexico, Argentina, and Spain. I daresay, I might even have a drop of Mexican blood in me, but unfortunately the only thing that I seem to have inherited is the height and nothing else. My nose is big and flat unlike the defined noses of Mexican mestizos. My eyes are chinky compared to the luminous, dramatic eyes that they have.
*groan*
I intended this post to be a brief one because we have a super important quiz in one hour but this seems to take more time that it should. OK. I should continue this after the quiz.
But still, I want to be Mexican. Darn.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
MONOCHROME
Pictures I took at a trip with my best friends. I like black and white. Everything with it looks antiquated but strong.
FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD
Darn.
Do you know that part of your mouth at the back where the gum ends and it slopes upward becoming part of your cheek? The gum nearest to the wisdom tooth. I am yet to become a doctor in order to describe this part using anatomical terms but yeah, you probably know where that is.
That part, in my mouth, has some kind of a tear in it. I was eating rice last night and I was so hungry that I didn't realize it was half-cooked. Thus, some of those grains punctured that tender area and now, every time I speak or chew, my wisdom tooth hit it and I cringe. I talked like I was Estrada with a half-paralyzed face.
But even this could never suffice my cravings for food. After several months of waiting, I now finally have a regular allowance, which means that I get to buy a warm lunch at the foodcourt and some snacks if I feel hungry. Even though my gum hurts, I ate much today. Sauteed liver and rice as breakfast, a hotdog waffle for AM snacks, shanghai rolls for lunch, and shortly before typing this, a square of cinnamon-flavored pudding, two ham and cheese paninis and a munchkin.
I sound so "rich" and "cultured" saying those stuff. But I'm not. I just happen to be a man with a voracious appetite and a blog for his vague sputtering.
But I love food; it's one of those things that makes the world go round. We all have taste buds and they want to be fondled with the liquid richness of a thick sauce or the soft bits of cake and frosting or the flavorful tenderness of roast meat...and all these things.
I myself have tried to make those kinds of cuisine right at our small, undertooled kitchen. I made abominations like this:
Do you know that part of your mouth at the back where the gum ends and it slopes upward becoming part of your cheek? The gum nearest to the wisdom tooth. I am yet to become a doctor in order to describe this part using anatomical terms but yeah, you probably know where that is.
That part, in my mouth, has some kind of a tear in it. I was eating rice last night and I was so hungry that I didn't realize it was half-cooked. Thus, some of those grains punctured that tender area and now, every time I speak or chew, my wisdom tooth hit it and I cringe. I talked like I was Estrada with a half-paralyzed face.
But even this could never suffice my cravings for food. After several months of waiting, I now finally have a regular allowance, which means that I get to buy a warm lunch at the foodcourt and some snacks if I feel hungry. Even though my gum hurts, I ate much today. Sauteed liver and rice as breakfast, a hotdog waffle for AM snacks, shanghai rolls for lunch, and shortly before typing this, a square of cinnamon-flavored pudding, two ham and cheese paninis and a munchkin.
I sound so "rich" and "cultured" saying those stuff. But I'm not. I just happen to be a man with a voracious appetite and a blog for his vague sputtering.
But I love food; it's one of those things that makes the world go round. We all have taste buds and they want to be fondled with the liquid richness of a thick sauce or the soft bits of cake and frosting or the flavorful tenderness of roast meat...and all these things.
I myself have tried to make those kinds of cuisine right at our small, undertooled kitchen. I made abominations like this:
Red rice, browned sausages, cheese omelette and some fries (from leftover potatoes)
Haha. The same shit. Red rice, green pea omelette (not sure if such a thing exists), some sausages and same plate. LOL
Ahhh, can't find where I hid my other horrendous creations but, you get the point. Please don't barf.
This cooking thing started even when I was younger, when my sister taught me how to cook sweet stuff like cakes and macaroons and brazos de mercedes (which so far, are the only deserts I know how to cook...it's been a long time since I've worked with an oven). I love sweets so I make one sometimes when I'm bored. Hey, I remembered this one thing that I cooked with apples and caramel and stuff. It was passable, my young sister even said it was yummy.
Yeah, I like cooking, sometimes. It would even be more fun if I would cook something for a loved one. But that would be in the future when I would be able to buy all the ingredients of all these recipes. There's just this thing when you cook something. Then what? You eat what you have made. There's no sense of fulfillment. On the other hand...
I will wake up before she does. I will make the best breakfast ever. Eggs benedict, french toast and juice from freshly picked oranges. I will cook them, then wait until she wakes up and I'll kiss her and lay her breakfast tray on her lap. Then, she would say it tastes delicious, and I will be happy. Very happy.
Monday, February 13, 2012
IF I WERE A LOUDMOUTH
"Hey. Calm down. You have a bipolar disorder. Take lithium for pete's sake. Don't involve us in your mood swings. I don't like an aura of negativity wafting all over us. Do that when I'm also in a bad mood and I will have to throw a punch."
"You're rich. You're lazy. And you're influencing me. Since I'm poor, I can't afford to be lazy like you."
"Stop shoving that thing in my face. Yeah, yeah, I know. You've repeated that several times already, it's driving me crazy."
"You are aware that you are friendzoning me, aren't you? If I have no chance with you, then stop flirting with me. You're giving me false hopes"
"You're pretty cute. But I dunno where this is going. I dunno why this is directionless."
"I hate you. I don;t know why, but I hate you. I know you hate me too, we have that mutual dislike with each other and I acknowledge that. Like I said, I hate you."
"Still following that idiot of a person? Natural. You're docile but you keep on worshiping that egotistic douchebag which makes you an idiot as well. Just saying."
"Hey go on, go do what you want, See if I care."
"I promise I'll repay you with something else. I'm not that ungrateful, I'm just depleted with some stuff now, but I will just...it WILL arrive."
"Hey, hello there. A creature from my nightmare. A shadow in the background of a moor."
"I like you but, you're just so, dry. Like bone dry. Like a bone in the Atacama desert."
"Dude, have some balls. Decide for yourself. You're a man for pete's sake."
"You don't like me and it shows. Try to have a more convincing poker face next time."
"OK. Think what you want to think. I don't have to prove anything."
"No, I don't want to have sex with you."
"Respetohanay lang ah. Respetohanay. Tawo ka man. Gasala ka man mo."
"Can you at least exert an effort? Where the hell are you anyway? What the hell are you doing all these time?"
"I haven't proven my worth yet. But soon you'll see me at what I do best."
"You have a boyfriend. Why do you touch me so much?"
"You think I'm not capable of my position? Please. As if you can do something about it. LOL."
"You're just so fragrant and everything. Grrrrrr."
"I miss you."
"I may look indifferent but dude, I care. A lot. I just don't flaunt it for everyone to see it."
"Another promise? That better be real this time. All you've been doing is promising me and breaking those for the past 5 years."
"That's just TMI."
"You're using the same people again and again. I'm sick of them. Why can't you just use her? You are so unprofessional. If it weren't a well-known agency, I would pull her away from you."
Things I would like to say to people if I am that assertive. But it's all chill for now. They will make themselves known in time.
"You're rich. You're lazy. And you're influencing me. Since I'm poor, I can't afford to be lazy like you."
"Stop shoving that thing in my face. Yeah, yeah, I know. You've repeated that several times already, it's driving me crazy."
"You are aware that you are friendzoning me, aren't you? If I have no chance with you, then stop flirting with me. You're giving me false hopes"
"You're pretty cute. But I dunno where this is going. I dunno why this is directionless."
"I hate you. I don;t know why, but I hate you. I know you hate me too, we have that mutual dislike with each other and I acknowledge that. Like I said, I hate you."
"Still following that idiot of a person? Natural. You're docile but you keep on worshiping that egotistic douchebag which makes you an idiot as well. Just saying."
"Hey go on, go do what you want, See if I care."
"I promise I'll repay you with something else. I'm not that ungrateful, I'm just depleted with some stuff now, but I will just...it WILL arrive."
"Hey, hello there. A creature from my nightmare. A shadow in the background of a moor."
"I like you but, you're just so, dry. Like bone dry. Like a bone in the Atacama desert."
"Dude, have some balls. Decide for yourself. You're a man for pete's sake."
"You don't like me and it shows. Try to have a more convincing poker face next time."
"OK. Think what you want to think. I don't have to prove anything."
"No, I don't want to have sex with you."
"Respetohanay lang ah. Respetohanay. Tawo ka man. Gasala ka man mo."
"Can you at least exert an effort? Where the hell are you anyway? What the hell are you doing all these time?"
"I haven't proven my worth yet. But soon you'll see me at what I do best."
"You have a boyfriend. Why do you touch me so much?"
"You think I'm not capable of my position? Please. As if you can do something about it. LOL."
"You're just so fragrant and everything. Grrrrrr."
"I miss you."
"I may look indifferent but dude, I care. A lot. I just don't flaunt it for everyone to see it."
"Another promise? That better be real this time. All you've been doing is promising me and breaking those for the past 5 years."
"That's just TMI."
"You're using the same people again and again. I'm sick of them. Why can't you just use her? You are so unprofessional. If it weren't a well-known agency, I would pull her away from you."
Things I would like to say to people if I am that assertive. But it's all chill for now. They will make themselves known in time.
MUTATION AND DNA REPAIR MECHANISMS
So it ends. After more than an hour and a half of continuous babbling, it's finished. With sparks, man, with sparks. The goddess-queen of genetics thought I was good. So, I am done worrying about 50 percent of my grade in Molecular Bio. Now I can focus (or not) on other stuff, like Political Science paper, my Scribe contribution, my application for a gym membership, my column and other stuff.
Alright.
Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. I can't celebrate that because I don't have a girlfriend.
It's annoying that there are these couples that go around pestering single people, exchanging saliva with each other in your face. It's like shoving the fact in your brain that you don't have a girlfriend and you need to get one but you can't because the ones you like are already taken and others are just out of your league.
You know what, boobs are not enough for a relationship. Seriously, 9Gag. It may be important, but it's all that there is. I'm not that handsome so I may have no right to do these kinds of screenings but I dunno, I just don't want to use up my time on something...unstable.
Sure, it's nice to have a girlfriend. There are a lot of scenarios in my mind about what it would be like to have a girl that I really love and a girl that really loves me. Sometimes, I even think I should just go out there and look for one and then just go out with her and break up when it doesn't work.
By just writing that....
OK.
Won't hurt that much this time, right?
Alright.
Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. I can't celebrate that because I don't have a girlfriend.
It's annoying that there are these couples that go around pestering single people, exchanging saliva with each other in your face. It's like shoving the fact in your brain that you don't have a girlfriend and you need to get one but you can't because the ones you like are already taken and others are just out of your league.
You know what, boobs are not enough for a relationship. Seriously, 9Gag. It may be important, but it's all that there is. I'm not that handsome so I may have no right to do these kinds of screenings but I dunno, I just don't want to use up my time on something...unstable.
Sure, it's nice to have a girlfriend. There are a lot of scenarios in my mind about what it would be like to have a girl that I really love and a girl that really loves me. Sometimes, I even think I should just go out there and look for one and then just go out with her and break up when it doesn't work.
By just writing that....
OK.
Won't hurt that much this time, right?
Sunday, February 5, 2012
SWAMPED
I have the thickest face in the world. I also mean that literally but what's really the point now is the figurative part. I will probably even be here again the next week several times. I'm that unwelcomed here that I have to work in the dark because they think I am the culprit for their mounting electricity bills. Anyway, I can't blame them. I would probably do the same thing if they were using my computer.
Oh, yes. The computer. When is that going to arrive again? Does it even exist? Will I ever have a chance to have one for my own? Ditto.
Right now, I'm swamped with lots of work. I love making lists, so I'm gonna make one now.
THINGS I HAVE TO DO
1. Study rigorously for my MolBio report which will constitute 50% of my final grade.
2. Write our humongous take home quiz for Pharmacology
3. Complete Phenomology of Love paper for Philosophy 2
4. Study 10 parasites for Parasitology
5. Study Mol Bio
6. Study Pharmacology
7. Write RRL for Bioresearch
8. Study Economics
9. Study English and Technical Writing shit
10. Compute for this crap called ePIP
11. Study Plant Physiology
12. Study an ongoing case related to the Bill of Rights
13. PolSci Research on Sipalay Health LGU
14. Complete poem and shorty for Scribe
15. Make column for newspaper
16. Make feature for newspaper
17. Scold some complacent editors
18. Scold lazy newbies
19. Buy Peanut butter and Master's stash
20. Pay tuition and library dues
I think I'm not gonna do some of them, but yeah, this is my to do list.
And most of them involve a computer. Pffft, computers again.
You know what, I downloaded a Tchaikovsky torrent earlier and while I'm in the midst of making our RRL for our bloody, gooey placenta research, I listened to Andantino Semplice - Piano Concerto no. 1 in B-flat minor op 35, and felt strangely calm, to the point of almost making that "sweet jesus" face in rage comics.
I'm planning to sleep all day and wake up at 4 o clock later to cook that spaghetti strung on a hotdog recipe I saw on 9gag. I have tomato sauce now, so it's gonna taste like food this time.
It's 1:30 AM and my cousin is still up here, watching this Korean show about princesses and stuff. God bless her dying brain cells for not heeding her body's circadian rhythms.
Back to Alkylation and pyrimidine dimers then...
Oh, yes. The computer. When is that going to arrive again? Does it even exist? Will I ever have a chance to have one for my own? Ditto.
Right now, I'm swamped with lots of work. I love making lists, so I'm gonna make one now.
THINGS I HAVE TO DO
1. Study rigorously for my MolBio report which will constitute 50% of my final grade.
2. Write our humongous take home quiz for Pharmacology
3. Complete Phenomology of Love paper for Philosophy 2
4. Study 10 parasites for Parasitology
5. Study Mol Bio
6. Study Pharmacology
7. Write RRL for Bioresearch
8. Study Economics
9. Study English and Technical Writing shit
10. Compute for this crap called ePIP
11. Study Plant Physiology
12. Study an ongoing case related to the Bill of Rights
13. PolSci Research on Sipalay Health LGU
14. Complete poem and shorty for Scribe
15. Make column for newspaper
16. Make feature for newspaper
17. Scold some complacent editors
18. Scold lazy newbies
19. Buy Peanut butter and Master's stash
20. Pay tuition and library dues
I think I'm not gonna do some of them, but yeah, this is my to do list.
And most of them involve a computer. Pffft, computers again.
You know what, I downloaded a Tchaikovsky torrent earlier and while I'm in the midst of making our RRL for our bloody, gooey placenta research, I listened to Andantino Semplice - Piano Concerto no. 1 in B-flat minor op 35, and felt strangely calm, to the point of almost making that "sweet jesus" face in rage comics.
I'm planning to sleep all day and wake up at 4 o clock later to cook that spaghetti strung on a hotdog recipe I saw on 9gag. I have tomato sauce now, so it's gonna taste like food this time.
It's 1:30 AM and my cousin is still up here, watching this Korean show about princesses and stuff. God bless her dying brain cells for not heeding her body's circadian rhythms.
Back to Alkylation and pyrimidine dimers then...
Thursday, February 2, 2012
ATALANTA
Last night, I had a dream. It's not really that blog-worthy compared to my other dreams (most of which I have already forgotten) but since I'm bored of studying tRNAs and ribosomal subunits, I might as well take a break from this academic torture and relax a bit.
But even with this dilly-dallying, I hope I'll get a decent exam/quiz tomorrow.
OK. So here it goes.
I saw myself on top of a mountain, overlooking the city of Rome, with trees all around me. I was with some old guy named Vito Corleone (yeah, I know, he's the Don in the Godfather, which I probably why I imagined myself being in Italy). I was sitting on a rock, gazing at the Roman skyline (didn't have high-rise buildings, I only saw old churches and old but stately mansions and piazzas). The Don said something deep about life, which I forgot. There was bright sunshine and I still kept on looking in the distance.
I felt myself being whisked away into the bottom of the mountain and there, I saw myself standing beside a girl. This girl is a hybrid of four/five girls I know which I personally have a crush on. She was calling somebody and was close to weeping. I looked at her teary eyes, which were very familiar. Then, she whispered something urgent and she held me by the hand and off we went, running to somewhere I don't know.
She was running very fast, and I kept up with her. Being a hybrid of my four crushes, she was really beautiful and perfect, like Atalanta running for Eris' golden apples (cheesy). She was still holding my hand and tugging me along, as we rushed through everything. I almost couldn't take my eyes off of her when I felt something disgusting on my feet. We were trudging through mud and it splashed everywhere.
Still, we ran through forests and villages and only then I realized that we stopped along a woodland trail. She talked about something and I listened very well (although I forgot what the hell she was talking about) and she burst into tears. She was so...cute while she was bawling and sobbing. I handed her my handkerchief and she kept on talking and talking until..
..
..
..
Mom woke me up.
I swear I was smiling in my sleep. And I could somehow smell her smell. Not her cologne. Her smell. Which really smelled good.
Anyway, really irrelevant right? Just one of the thousands of things that I dream about and I decided to post here. Can anyone interpret it for me?
OK. Back to proteins and guanosine triphosphates.
But even with this dilly-dallying, I hope I'll get a decent exam/quiz tomorrow.
OK. So here it goes.
I saw myself on top of a mountain, overlooking the city of Rome, with trees all around me. I was with some old guy named Vito Corleone (yeah, I know, he's the Don in the Godfather, which I probably why I imagined myself being in Italy). I was sitting on a rock, gazing at the Roman skyline (didn't have high-rise buildings, I only saw old churches and old but stately mansions and piazzas). The Don said something deep about life, which I forgot. There was bright sunshine and I still kept on looking in the distance.
I felt myself being whisked away into the bottom of the mountain and there, I saw myself standing beside a girl. This girl is a hybrid of four/five girls I know which I personally have a crush on. She was calling somebody and was close to weeping. I looked at her teary eyes, which were very familiar. Then, she whispered something urgent and she held me by the hand and off we went, running to somewhere I don't know.
She was running very fast, and I kept up with her. Being a hybrid of my four crushes, she was really beautiful and perfect, like Atalanta running for Eris' golden apples (cheesy). She was still holding my hand and tugging me along, as we rushed through everything. I almost couldn't take my eyes off of her when I felt something disgusting on my feet. We were trudging through mud and it splashed everywhere.
Still, we ran through forests and villages and only then I realized that we stopped along a woodland trail. She talked about something and I listened very well (although I forgot what the hell she was talking about) and she burst into tears. She was so...cute while she was bawling and sobbing. I handed her my handkerchief and she kept on talking and talking until..
..
..
..
Mom woke me up.
I swear I was smiling in my sleep. And I could somehow smell her smell. Not her cologne. Her smell. Which really smelled good.
Anyway, really irrelevant right? Just one of the thousands of things that I dream about and I decided to post here. Can anyone interpret it for me?
OK. Back to proteins and guanosine triphosphates.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
TSK....PROMISES
Alright. You know what? As much as I love Toblerone's chocolate, I hate the leftover nougat when the brown stuff is all gone. They stick to your teeth and take long before they dissolve. Only the nougat but the xocoyatl is great. Thanks Jud.
I feel like I have just been relieved of something heavy and it's like I'm back to my procrastinating, laid-back, uncaring self again. But not quite. Just a few moments ago, I was almost ready to jump in front of the class to hastily discuss about Mutation and DNA Repair which I have only fully-comprehended a minutes before. That presentation will be the basis for 50 percent of my grade in Molecular and Cell Biology.
Fortunately, I was rescheduled to report on Monday. I know right? I know you don't care.
So, promises. The title. Right. Almost forgot that. I remembered some few promises. I remembered a promise that was made almost five years ago. I remembered a promise emailed to me just last week. Lots of people have promised on me.
One particular thing I've remembered is about the computer. It was a laptop kuno, Windows 7 OS. I have been waiting for that thing since I'm a highschool Junior.I suppose it has never found it's way to our doorstep. Maybe it's in some pawn shop or something. Another promise about a computer. She said she'll get me one within year if she gets out. Two years later, nil. So much about promises.
I used to actually wait and believe what they're saying. I thought they really meant what they said. Turns out...nothing. I have learned. I have learned not to trust people and their words. Words just hang in the air for a few moments and then disappear. Forgotten. No word of honor at all.
A man is supposed to be true to his word. And I still owe my sister a box of Beng Beng chocolate bars. So be it.
Uh, I am supposed to save my money because my sister cannot send our monthly allowances due to some other natural disaster in Bangkok or something. OK sis, after 4 months, guess I'll still have to wait for another one, eh?
But yesterday, I depleted my money on chicken skin (which tasted and felt worthless, if you ask me) and scrumptious sisig from Nene's. Now, I only have 50 bucks on my wallet and I have to get this thing to fit for the entire month.
Think I'm kidding? No I'm not.
Yeah, yeah. My problems sound petty. Meager allowance *scoff*. No laptop *sneer*.
You know what, Molecular Bio is really a bitch. Try studying 400 slides of chock-full of material without a laptop. Yeah, yeah, it's not really that much of a problem if you don't really care if you flunk on the subject but otherwise, what the heck? I can stay up all night and morning studying in my Aunt's PC. I can act clueless and naive even when they accuse me of their malfunctioning computer.
I'm really having a time of my life when I do that.
So when's the PC gonna arrive? After I become a doctor? OK. I never believed in your words these days anyway.
To tell you the truth, I've been thinking really hard and realized I'm actually dreaming of becoming a seafarer someday. So, to shift or not to shift?
Economics in a few minutes. I will sleep on that entire time because I was up all night last nigh studying Translation while listening to Avicii's Layers repeatedly to compose myself in the midst of my brain cell killing session.
I need Vitamin C. I will ask Mom to pick some kalamansi on our front yard tonight.
I will mix my kalamansi juice and add lots of sugar in it. Lots and lots of sugar.
I feel like I have just been relieved of something heavy and it's like I'm back to my procrastinating, laid-back, uncaring self again. But not quite. Just a few moments ago, I was almost ready to jump in front of the class to hastily discuss about Mutation and DNA Repair which I have only fully-comprehended a minutes before. That presentation will be the basis for 50 percent of my grade in Molecular and Cell Biology.
Fortunately, I was rescheduled to report on Monday. I know right? I know you don't care.
So, promises. The title. Right. Almost forgot that. I remembered some few promises. I remembered a promise that was made almost five years ago. I remembered a promise emailed to me just last week. Lots of people have promised on me.
One particular thing I've remembered is about the computer. It was a laptop kuno, Windows 7 OS. I have been waiting for that thing since I'm a highschool Junior.I suppose it has never found it's way to our doorstep. Maybe it's in some pawn shop or something. Another promise about a computer. She said she'll get me one within year if she gets out. Two years later, nil. So much about promises.
I used to actually wait and believe what they're saying. I thought they really meant what they said. Turns out...nothing. I have learned. I have learned not to trust people and their words. Words just hang in the air for a few moments and then disappear. Forgotten. No word of honor at all.
A man is supposed to be true to his word. And I still owe my sister a box of Beng Beng chocolate bars. So be it.
Uh, I am supposed to save my money because my sister cannot send our monthly allowances due to some other natural disaster in Bangkok or something. OK sis, after 4 months, guess I'll still have to wait for another one, eh?
But yesterday, I depleted my money on chicken skin (which tasted and felt worthless, if you ask me) and scrumptious sisig from Nene's. Now, I only have 50 bucks on my wallet and I have to get this thing to fit for the entire month.
Think I'm kidding? No I'm not.
Yeah, yeah. My problems sound petty. Meager allowance *scoff*. No laptop *sneer*.
You know what, Molecular Bio is really a bitch. Try studying 400 slides of chock-full of material without a laptop. Yeah, yeah, it's not really that much of a problem if you don't really care if you flunk on the subject but otherwise, what the heck? I can stay up all night and morning studying in my Aunt's PC. I can act clueless and naive even when they accuse me of their malfunctioning computer.
I'm really having a time of my life when I do that.
So when's the PC gonna arrive? After I become a doctor? OK. I never believed in your words these days anyway.
To tell you the truth, I've been thinking really hard and realized I'm actually dreaming of becoming a seafarer someday. So, to shift or not to shift?
Economics in a few minutes. I will sleep on that entire time because I was up all night last nigh studying Translation while listening to Avicii's Layers repeatedly to compose myself in the midst of my brain cell killing session.
I need Vitamin C. I will ask Mom to pick some kalamansi on our front yard tonight.
I will mix my kalamansi juice and add lots of sugar in it. Lots and lots of sugar.
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