I'll be back for Manila tomorrow. Despite the one-day stay, I cannot help but feel that this is officially the end of Summer Break. Then before I know it, I'm buried neck-deep in tedious academical pursuits. I have to do it, but it does not mean I have to like it.
I'll miss home. I'll miss my space near the staircase of my Mausoleum... My books will be replaced by the other type of books that, if likened to food, is stale, dry, yet nutritious to the brain. Compared to the tasty morsels I can cook up in the Necropolis, which provide a different kind of nutrition.
Good luck, then.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
More from the elections -or- Mudslingers Galore!
After three days... the smoke hasn't cleared at all. Frankly, I can liken it to the mustard or chlorine gas used for trench warfare of WWI. People from a rather popular social networking site (particularly the webpage/fanpage of my hometown) ar at it -- up to their teeth with mudslinging. The other camp says a lot about the winning guy; from honest congratulations coupled with requests to do the best he can for the town; to honest criticism and witty remarks about the previous term albeit not totally bashing; to really dirty MMORPG-like bashing; to sarcastic congratulatory remarks coupled with criticism and bashing. A salad of stuff that is both amusing and uncomfortable to read. The winning side has its own share of posts, replies, comments, and bashings, namely to wit: sarcastic appeals for unity ending with a remark on how the losing side just accept the fact that THEY won; others remarking that the losing side does nothing but complain and criticize; a relative few that genuinely appeals for unity amidst diversity in beliefs; and my favorite bit - those who border on worshipping the incumbent. Just add photographs allegedly showing forbidden election-related activities, and the comment about the current situation of invading non-indemics' lack of hygiene will just make your day as cheeky as mine.
It is just ridiculous but I must accept the fact that this is really a part of the stages of the whole election period. More likened to dissolution and winding up. I myself am linked by blood (mother's side, actually) to the losing camp, but I just try to take it in. Shit happens, like I wrote on my last post; we deal with it. I do not know how or why I should be affected by the whole thing in the first place, but I am. Reading those posts first seemed like good amusement (since there's nothing good on the telly most of the early mornings I just cannot sleep), but after a while of reading and re-reading them, it is just sad. It's so sad I find it hard not to think of not typing my own observations, two cents worth, and criticisms... don't forget the pet peeves. Both on this Blog AND on the aforementioned webpage-slashie-fanpage. I even found a random citizen and obvious supporter of the winners who happen to wear a particular shirt with a "rubbing-it-in-your-face" print on it annoying.
Of course, by now you'll realize I'm blabbering about. It just so happen that all of us have our limits. Bloodlines and lineages aside, whether it be on the losing or the winning teams, we all must choose a side. I tried my best to remain passive and not to care, but failed in that respect, as I see myself still to be on the losing end, since I am with family, and thus finally taken my side.
We win some and lose some. That's just it.
It is just ridiculous but I must accept the fact that this is really a part of the stages of the whole election period. More likened to dissolution and winding up. I myself am linked by blood (mother's side, actually) to the losing camp, but I just try to take it in. Shit happens, like I wrote on my last post; we deal with it. I do not know how or why I should be affected by the whole thing in the first place, but I am. Reading those posts first seemed like good amusement (since there's nothing good on the telly most of the early mornings I just cannot sleep), but after a while of reading and re-reading them, it is just sad. It's so sad I find it hard not to think of not typing my own observations, two cents worth, and criticisms... don't forget the pet peeves. Both on this Blog AND on the aforementioned webpage-slashie-fanpage. I even found a random citizen and obvious supporter of the winners who happen to wear a particular shirt with a "rubbing-it-in-your-face" print on it annoying.
Of course, by now you'll realize I'm blabbering about. It just so happen that all of us have our limits. Bloodlines and lineages aside, whether it be on the losing or the winning teams, we all must choose a side. I tried my best to remain passive and not to care, but failed in that respect, as I see myself still to be on the losing end, since I am with family, and thus finally taken my side.
We win some and lose some. That's just it.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
2010 may 10 national elections
And so it is done. But then again it is not over until the fat lady sings.
The first automated elections in my country was relatively successful. Relative because it still depends upon how one sees it. A success with the new system is always marred by subtle and obvious flaws. As expected, of course, as it is still a new system. Maybe the next time things will go smoothly.
Woke up around 5am. Took a quick shower, a cup of coffee, toast with hotdogs, and one stick of cigarette. Then I was off to vote with my cousins. It always seems to me that the whole shebang is a duty that we all have to fulfill as if we are spec ops. The house is systematic this morning: scheduled shifts, synchronized cooking, and my favorite - who gets to ride with who to the polling precincts.
The elementary school we were to vote is not too shabby. In fact, it brings a sense of comfort and homely feel to the chore... until we get to the lines. Long lines. Good thing we came early so we finished early. My mom felt like she won an award when the infamous machine ate her ballot and did not spit it back. And the rest of the day was spent speculating, sharing jokes, and mostly staying vigilant. I finished half my pack of smokes when my dad decided to turn on the telly and tuned in to a channel that uses "holograms" to bring us up-to-date, hardcore, no bias, no bullshit coverage. But we soon tuned in to another station that corrected the other station that the technology was not holograms and coined it as... I couldn't put my finger on the term but it was better. I just don't like overly celebritized and hyped news correspondence... what are you at? Ratings? Yeeahhh... right, right.
Waiting for the results was not that much of a suspence story. It just came as a surprise who got ranked highest. Forget the statistics. Familiarity and mental conditioning was the order of the day. A lot have been messaging me and posting on social networking sites about this. But what's done is done. It makes others sick to their stomachs, saying that the level of intelligence just shot into a downward spiral; among other profanity coupled with other such metaphors. But me? It just made me laugh. Not that I don't care, I was just plain amused.
Same thing went on at the locals. We had a relative running for mayor. But hey, shit happens, as one of my fraternity former heads posted. Nevertheless, win or lose, service does not stop there. I can just imagine the crap the other guy will give us. The marketplace will suffer the most. As I see it, in a town like mine, the public market where life revolves in complete ecocentricity, must be given priority. Our town does not need hypermarkets... sure it helps, but the ugly thing just made the present traffic problem a whole new thing to be experienced. Now I'm just bashing...
Now I am here, typing away, passively listening to the telly. I'll stay up late as I can and follow the news like I did last time elections were held. Just half an hour ago a cousin told me that his dad was asking him rather in a mood I can just describe as animosity: "Why did you vote for ---? You should have voted for ---!"
"I'm the one voting, dad. Not you." was his reply. I applauded; I just couldn't resist.
The first automated elections in my country was relatively successful. Relative because it still depends upon how one sees it. A success with the new system is always marred by subtle and obvious flaws. As expected, of course, as it is still a new system. Maybe the next time things will go smoothly.
Woke up around 5am. Took a quick shower, a cup of coffee, toast with hotdogs, and one stick of cigarette. Then I was off to vote with my cousins. It always seems to me that the whole shebang is a duty that we all have to fulfill as if we are spec ops. The house is systematic this morning: scheduled shifts, synchronized cooking, and my favorite - who gets to ride with who to the polling precincts.
The elementary school we were to vote is not too shabby. In fact, it brings a sense of comfort and homely feel to the chore... until we get to the lines. Long lines. Good thing we came early so we finished early. My mom felt like she won an award when the infamous machine ate her ballot and did not spit it back. And the rest of the day was spent speculating, sharing jokes, and mostly staying vigilant. I finished half my pack of smokes when my dad decided to turn on the telly and tuned in to a channel that uses "holograms" to bring us up-to-date, hardcore, no bias, no bullshit coverage. But we soon tuned in to another station that corrected the other station that the technology was not holograms and coined it as... I couldn't put my finger on the term but it was better. I just don't like overly celebritized and hyped news correspondence... what are you at? Ratings? Yeeahhh... right, right.
Waiting for the results was not that much of a suspence story. It just came as a surprise who got ranked highest. Forget the statistics. Familiarity and mental conditioning was the order of the day. A lot have been messaging me and posting on social networking sites about this. But what's done is done. It makes others sick to their stomachs, saying that the level of intelligence just shot into a downward spiral; among other profanity coupled with other such metaphors. But me? It just made me laugh. Not that I don't care, I was just plain amused.
Same thing went on at the locals. We had a relative running for mayor. But hey, shit happens, as one of my fraternity former heads posted. Nevertheless, win or lose, service does not stop there. I can just imagine the crap the other guy will give us. The marketplace will suffer the most. As I see it, in a town like mine, the public market where life revolves in complete ecocentricity, must be given priority. Our town does not need hypermarkets... sure it helps, but the ugly thing just made the present traffic problem a whole new thing to be experienced. Now I'm just bashing...
Now I am here, typing away, passively listening to the telly. I'll stay up late as I can and follow the news like I did last time elections were held. Just half an hour ago a cousin told me that his dad was asking him rather in a mood I can just describe as animosity: "Why did you vote for ---? You should have voted for ---!"
"I'm the one voting, dad. Not you." was his reply. I applauded; I just couldn't resist.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Books
I'm obsessive compulsive when it comes to books. Well, at least I think I am.
Everytime I enter a bookstore I must leave the place with at least one book tucked under my arm. Of course I paid for it; I'm no shoplifting klepto. I find it hard to pull away from a title that catches my eye and not think of buying it. I'll spend as much as I can possibly cough out of my wallet, or if I'm with somebody close like a friend or relative, I borrow the money. And if I can't, I feel really bad and it takes a couple of days to get over the feeling. Otherwise, I'll be back in a day or two and finally... I got my book... and then some.
I just love to read. Well, at least leisure reading. Hours of endless enjoyment and pleasure is within my reach with a comfortable chair, a pack of smokes, and a new (or old) book on my lap. When I get tired, I sleep then pick up where I left off upon waking up. A glass of juice or cup of coffee would occassionally add to the ensemble. Add a myriad of characters from different worlds with countles stories to tell and an otherwise dull existence will be more interesting.
I think that is what makes the library in the Mausoleum interesting. As I read page after page the tales become part of the halls. This is where I'm most at home -- inside the Necropolis.
Everytime I enter a bookstore I must leave the place with at least one book tucked under my arm. Of course I paid for it; I'm no shoplifting klepto. I find it hard to pull away from a title that catches my eye and not think of buying it. I'll spend as much as I can possibly cough out of my wallet, or if I'm with somebody close like a friend or relative, I borrow the money. And if I can't, I feel really bad and it takes a couple of days to get over the feeling. Otherwise, I'll be back in a day or two and finally... I got my book... and then some.
I just love to read. Well, at least leisure reading. Hours of endless enjoyment and pleasure is within my reach with a comfortable chair, a pack of smokes, and a new (or old) book on my lap. When I get tired, I sleep then pick up where I left off upon waking up. A glass of juice or cup of coffee would occassionally add to the ensemble. Add a myriad of characters from different worlds with countles stories to tell and an otherwise dull existence will be more interesting.
I think that is what makes the library in the Mausoleum interesting. As I read page after page the tales become part of the halls. This is where I'm most at home -- inside the Necropolis.
Insomniac's Paradise
I just can't sleep. I envy people who close their eyes and they're out like a light and sleep like a log. I may get a couple of hours or minutes of shut eye and then I am awake. It is a luxury that escapes me. My father would insist that I should just go to bed early and close my eyes. Nope. Doesn't work like that for me. All the things they tell me about body clocks and adjusting it is like a monumental task that eludes accomplishment.
I remembered a story my uncle told me. When he attended a doctors' convention a senior surgeon in his 60's invited him to go attend an 'after party' as one may call it, as it was the last day of the convention. My uncle politely turned down the offer, with a flight to catch and all, and he added that he would like to get some sleep before the plane ride going home. The senior laughed and answered, "hey buddy, I'm in my 60's. I've got plenty of time to sleep when I'm dead." My uncle still didn't attend the party, and got his eight hours of shut eye. And when he came home he still took a nap. Up to now he tells me to take a nap or sleep when opportunity to do so comes. "When you get to my age, you'll tell yourself, 'damn, why didn't I sleep as much when I was younger?'" He would always end that sermon of his with that last statement.
Regular or normal nighttime sleep repairs the body. It is also the time when a certain hormone essential for metabolic processes secreted are maximized and efficiently does what it's meant to do. You dream, remember less than a fourth of your dreams; or not remember any at all. You get nightmares and wake up thankful that it is all a dream. Sleep is a luxury that this present day and age is taking for granted. I should know. Come the start of this academic year I'll be back in that cesspool of a city that doesn't sleep, and it is not even New York.
The next time, I am definitely knocking myself out with a pill.
I remembered a story my uncle told me. When he attended a doctors' convention a senior surgeon in his 60's invited him to go attend an 'after party' as one may call it, as it was the last day of the convention. My uncle politely turned down the offer, with a flight to catch and all, and he added that he would like to get some sleep before the plane ride going home. The senior laughed and answered, "hey buddy, I'm in my 60's. I've got plenty of time to sleep when I'm dead." My uncle still didn't attend the party, and got his eight hours of shut eye. And when he came home he still took a nap. Up to now he tells me to take a nap or sleep when opportunity to do so comes. "When you get to my age, you'll tell yourself, 'damn, why didn't I sleep as much when I was younger?'" He would always end that sermon of his with that last statement.
Regular or normal nighttime sleep repairs the body. It is also the time when a certain hormone essential for metabolic processes secreted are maximized and efficiently does what it's meant to do. You dream, remember less than a fourth of your dreams; or not remember any at all. You get nightmares and wake up thankful that it is all a dream. Sleep is a luxury that this present day and age is taking for granted. I should know. Come the start of this academic year I'll be back in that cesspool of a city that doesn't sleep, and it is not even New York.
The next time, I am definitely knocking myself out with a pill.
Welcome to the Necropolis
The City of the Dead.
Never knew why or how I came to choose a title like this. Maybe it came from the back of my mind. A natural fear of dying, perhaps? I myself can never tell. I've always considered myself as a writer, only a frustrated one. I never finished a book, or published anything except in my High School paper. And that was more than seven years ago.
So that is why I am starting this Blog. It is mundane and stereotypical, but I needed to "scratch the itch". I need to keep my mind working especially on idle days like these. Mental exercise.
I'm a big fan of fantasy and science fiction -- Neil Gaiman, Frank Miller, Anne Rice, Star Wars, Dragonlance books, Tolkien, and the works of Raymond Feist have been my favorites.
Maybe that is why I have trouble writing or finishing anything. Too much clutter in my head. As the ancient Martial Arts addage goes: "empty your cup, it is so full you cannot fill it with anything".
Time to clean up the shelves in the library of this mausoleum. The dust and cobwebs in this dark, gloomy hall will be disturbed by the lone reader. Come to the Necropolis, my friend. Look for the Mausoleum. Under the staircase take a quick right and you'll see me... sitting on a dusty chair beside a dying flame of candlelight.
Never knew why or how I came to choose a title like this. Maybe it came from the back of my mind. A natural fear of dying, perhaps? I myself can never tell. I've always considered myself as a writer, only a frustrated one. I never finished a book, or published anything except in my High School paper. And that was more than seven years ago.
So that is why I am starting this Blog. It is mundane and stereotypical, but I needed to "scratch the itch". I need to keep my mind working especially on idle days like these. Mental exercise.
I'm a big fan of fantasy and science fiction -- Neil Gaiman, Frank Miller, Anne Rice, Star Wars, Dragonlance books, Tolkien, and the works of Raymond Feist have been my favorites.
Maybe that is why I have trouble writing or finishing anything. Too much clutter in my head. As the ancient Martial Arts addage goes: "empty your cup, it is so full you cannot fill it with anything".
Time to clean up the shelves in the library of this mausoleum. The dust and cobwebs in this dark, gloomy hall will be disturbed by the lone reader. Come to the Necropolis, my friend. Look for the Mausoleum. Under the staircase take a quick right and you'll see me... sitting on a dusty chair beside a dying flame of candlelight.
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