Resigned.

Tinamad na kong mag-blog. Seryoso.

Kitams, tagalog na ang post na ito. Kasi nga, tinamad na ko.

Salamat sa mga links ko at sa mga commenters ko. Si Utakgago’y di mawawala, uhh, magpapalipas-oras lang. Lam nyo na, magmumuni-muni. Basta, bahala na si Batman. Sa mga kabarkada’t kaklase ko na nagbabasa ng blog na ‘to: mabuti’t nakilala nyo kung ano yung ‘deeper’ na katauhan ko! Amf. Parang ang lalim! Puta, parang di ako to.

Sa mga kapatid kong gurang (isang trenta’y tres at isang trenta’y uno – parehas babae at parehas na nasa US) – salamat sa patagong pagbabasa ng blog ko. Grabe, alam ko namang binabasa nyo to kahit na pinagbabawal ko kayo, diba!!

Sa kuya ko, bahala ka na sa buhay mo. HAHAHAHA. Joke!

At sa lahat ng bloggers, at mga Paulinians, at sa mga hindi ko kilalang nagbabasa ng blog na ‘to dahil trip lang: salamat. Naka-ilang visits din ako. 28,065 ang huli kong bilang. For almost 5 months, wow. Achievement. WordPress is really better than Blogger [anong konek nun, pare?]!

Anong balak ko sa mga pyutur na araw? Magbasa. Maghanap ng ibang mapagkaka-abalahan. Nakakatamad ring mag-blog no! Isipin mo, araw-araw mong ipapakilala sa madla kung sino ka. Nakakaburat talaga! Hahaha. Kaya eto, medyo lutang ata ako ngayon pero hindi na MUNA ako mag-bloblog. Pansamantala, baka matagalan. Kung mag-bloblog man ako, hindi nyo na ko kilala.

I mean, hindi ako magpapakilala.

Muli, salamat sa mga naging parte ng blog na to.

At kita-kits sa susunod na Blog Parteeh, promise – walang biguan! Tutal magkokolehiyo na naman, kaso sa LB. Hanglayooo. Laguna. Pero balita ko, kulang pa ang sampung tao para yumakap ng isang puno dun. Tsaka sagana ang night life! At frat! Wooohooo! At tambakan raw ng sandamakmak na chicks na makalaglag-brief.

Ewan ko ba kung totoo.

Kay Jun Mark at Brian, LB tayo ha! Hehe, sila yung mga tiga-St. Paul Bocaue na makaka-LB ko. Lolz, wala lang.

Ayun, sige. Tama na to.

Doctor.

Seatmate’s been cheating all the time, and I’ve had enough of her. Either she’d change her answers, or she’d multiply her score by two just to perfect a quiz. She’s smart, yet I can’t figure out why she does that all the time.

A professional doktor.

In terms of assignments (read page blah-blah and answer the activity sheet below); I cheat. I don’t have much patience just to munch a story and force it to materialize in my mind. With seatworks, quizzes, Unit or Periodic Tests; I’m not a cheater. The fact that the subject teacher roams around and might cause me a demerit wouldn’t be nice at all. Hehe.

I somehow wanted my seatmate to be guilty of what she’s doing, but I just can’t. Hindi ka ba natatauhan sa mga ginagawa mo? I asked her. Hinde. I’m not surprised. As graduating students, we’d do everything to pass a subject. Pretty soon, she’ll learn her lesson.

-

Last year, millions of the texting population switched their Sim carsds to Globe: thanks to their Unlimitext promo, it gave Ederlyn and everyone a chance to text all day long. Smart users dissipated; I haven’t heard someone using a Smart Sim nowadays.

Yesterday, Globe switched its 15 pesos a day to 20 pesos. 80 pesos for four days.

Will I switch to Sun or what?

Revivals.

Nowadays, the Filipino music scene’s been powered by local bands (and not to mention, those pop singers). They have their vocalists, their own style of expressing their lyrics, strumming guitars and the chords, implementing various genres to every piece of their songs: it became an addiction that influenced the youth of today. Nothing’s wrong with rock; except if you consider Cueshe and Shamrock a ‘rock’ band: then there’s something wrong. Wait, don’t tell me – Join The Club is a band!!

To commemorate those long-forgotten bands, the bands of today made revivals. But instead of reliving the natural essence of the song, the trying-hard bands end up destroying the song. A massacre.

6Cycle Mind’s Prinsesa, for me, is a total waste.

Well, I have no comment about those APO songs since I’ve never loved their songs.

The E-heads revivals? Baaad. Not only did it gave fuel to the fire with the issues regarding Ely Buendia and the good old bandmates, but it’s a total catastrophe to hear a song murdered. MYMP’s ‘Huwag Mo Nang Itanong’ is somewhat a two thumbs up for me (though I still hate the drama-ish effect). But Barbie’s revival? Tss. That girl’s totally busted.

Before doing revivals, are they asking the permission of the so-called ‘owners’ of the songs? And after they made their own rendition, are they asking the original maker with regards to the execution of the song? They must. I wonder what would ‘The Teeth’ say to 6Cycle Mind with their ‘Prinsesa’.

Talking To Thyself.

A year of blogging. After reading those past posts (April, or even February of last year) – I’ve gotta tell you those posts are irritably, and regrettably, depressing. I’m even ashamed to admit that it’s mine, but who the hell cares about it? Maybe this blog needs a lot of refurbishing; but hey – I don’t need to please the crowd at all since this is uhh – my blog. Yes! My sincerest apologies to readers who insists to change the way I write, somehow raise it to three or more notches. Yes, you are in pain and disappointed. I’d rather not comply with your request rather than to try hard writing a post that would contain delinquency, schloss, flustered or even priapic. Hehe.

I suck at verb tenses, with the subject and verb agreement, with the correct word usage (too tired to use a Thesaurus to find the precise word), and the list goes on. I don’t even know if I’d use were or are, is or was. It confuses me a lot, but I’d rather choose this as a hobby (or even a career) than logarithms and arc tangents.

I imagine you telling yourself, this guy’s fifteen and nuts. Cocaine? Possible.

Blogging is telling yourself that your life’s worth-recording, or the way you write could somehow change the world (feed the poor, world peace). Worth the time and money. But how can you think of something to blog if your life’s senseless? Or boring? The last poem I’ve written last year talks about a prostitute! See?

Another thing, sorry if this blog can’t talk about love. After my recent (?) break-up with my ex-girlfriend (that was last May 1, nagtalo kami  habang nag-rarally sa Labor Day), I told myself to lock my heart and throw the key. I’m also sorry for not giving comments with love posts, or love poems, or love quotes. But if you want to talk about me and you, then you should add me up at Y!M. Then, you’ll realize that I am a boring person.

Yes, I’m graduating! I wonder how my life would spin while I am studying in College; as of now, UP Los Banos would be my choice (it might change, but that’s roughly five percent). I wonder if I’d still blog at those days, imagining myself being kidnapped while carrying my laptop inside a bus travelling from Bulacan to Los Banos. So I need a second-hand car, driving lessons, a student’s license.

I’m spraying mucus over the laptop screen, sneezing. I’m sick. 

Anyway. Seniors rule the Intrams! Yehhh, and we won all ball games! Prom’s near! My birthday’s near! Graduation’s near!

(Still reading ‘The Good German’ by Joseph Kanon, chapter 13, page 326. I’m such a slow reader!)

The Book And The Cover.

For the nth time, I gave a wrong answer to a question who could test a man’s capability of loving someone. Yes, I know that loving a girl isn’t about physical appearances – on how she dresses herself, her twirly hair and the way she walks. But it’s about the deeper personality, right?

Ano ba ang hinahanap mo sa isang babae?

Ako? Maganda, chinita, makinis, blah.

Am I too materialistic to consider girls as if they were Barbie Dolls? No. I just made the wrong answer. As mind-readers would say, if a man happens to answer that question with the physicals, the man is either: a dimwit, or looks at the physical appearance first.

No, not the Melanie Marquez saying – his brother is not a book, so don’t judge him.

Everytime I’d go inside a jeep, I would look at the passengers thoroughly. The watch, the hairstyle, every single piece of material they wear at the moment. Like a baggage checker on those airports, scanning. And vice versa, of course. They would measure me with my looks.

Once, I’m wearing cargo shorts, a black t-shirt, a black cap that seemed like hiding my face, and slippers. I gave my payment to the girl sitting next to me, but she refused to. Deadma. The fact that we’re the two remaining passengers, why not help me? So I went all the way near the driver and gave my fee, and stared at her with disgust, noticing her pig-tailed hair; maybe a Cadet Officer. Maybe she thought I’m a kidnapper or something, since I’m wearing a cap yet it’s almost dark.

Sometimes, it might be helpful for a couple of instances. A snatcher might not follow you all the way to the carpark because of your beggar-like appearance.

Well, could you blame people for judging someone by its cover?

Or is it just natural?

-

Weather’s crazy. The temperature’s for December, yet it’s almost February. What’s happening?

Finger-combed Solitarian.

So the Blog-parteeeh’s victorious. And I didn’t join the occasion since Bulacan’s too far from Makati? Though I’m familiar with Makati and its mind-numbing west-to-east streets, I decided not to go. We had Saturday as an extension for our Intrams. High School students must have been banned there (kidding). Anyway, congrats to the bloggers who made it. Envy. I’m so jealous. The fact that Billycoy is there! (I don’t care about Hener, I’ve seen him months ago in UST.) And Bulitas, and Benj! All star-studded people. And Ade, and other uhh, bloggers. And the Krispy Kreme. Aww.

Anyway, we’ll see each other in the near future.

For now, I’m still depressed with the fact that I can’t finish a single Solitaire game. Though the game doesn’t have any connection with numbers (the way I see it), but the logic! I can’t just match the figures. Oftentimes, I overlook those cards. What’s happening? Maybe I’m just distracted with my cousin trying to pester me. You know, linking me with a girl. And blah-blah. But still, why can’t I finish a single game! I could finish a Sudoku for like, nine minutes (depends with the difficulty of the game) or less! But with this game, I’m always busted.

Another thought: I’ve asked myself, when was the last time I combed my hair with a real comb? Maybe years ago. I go to school with an unkempt hair – rugged, somehow disordered. I’d comb my hair with four fingers (without my thumb) and voila. Ulam na. [Haha, kidding] But really, I seldom use a comb to decorate my hair with a wax; oftentimes I use my bare hands. It’s more artistic, isn’t it?

And to think that my Dad’s bald, he actually hates seeing a comb in the house.

That’s it. I’m done with my post. Still on page 280-something with Kanon’s The Good German. I’m not yet sleeping, urghh.

Baygonlover.

After I filed my blog leave, my router had one of its irregular mood swings. For four days, the Internet connection’s gone: my blog leave upgraded itself into an Internet leave, causing me to sleep earlier than planned. Quite beneficial. I admit that I panicked like a father finding a lost child, yeah, that feeling of addiction, the surge, the loneliness without it. Well, the router needs rest so I turned it off (for the second time since we bought it) for a whole day. And it worked again.

Like what Arnel says, yes, I am preparing for a new post.

Intrams was fun, after my right hand swollen from pressing the ice cream scoop and scorching my skin in the heat of the sun. Dealing with those elementary students was nasty, since they’re the top buyers of our ice cream booth. We earned 7700 for three days. Half of it for the school, half is for our club fund. Servitude’s something without a salary. Too bad. But the Intrams, great. Except that the most-watched event – Baseball – the Juniors overthrown the Seniors. Mga bading kasi, asa ng asa sa walk. But since the fight’s a double-elimination, they’ll eat dust. Red scumbags.

The newest sport on town, the Basketball Girls. Violations are adjusted, such as the five-step travelling. The game’s actually boring; those girls pinning themselves as topnotchers in backcourt violation, yet their three-point shots were totally unexpected. Nice. Volleyball’s pretty cool. My classmate was actually screaming, not of winning, but inside the clinic: with the nurse cleaning her injured leg, as she defines it: putangina, mas gusto ko pang ma-operahan. She did a nice shove.

With the rides: the Octopus – definitely an appetite-destroyer pero sobrang astig. The way I put it, it’s like “the last ride of your life”, since it’s damn great. You spin and rotate like whirlwinds in the air, you bounce, and the speed’s great! Catterpillar’s too boring, and the flying elephant must be for kids: pretending they don’t fear heights but ending in a disaster of throwing up their lunch.

As the Paulinian Prism (our school paper) layout artist, I am assigned to plot those sports articles and publish three or more copies for the Intrams Issue and the Editor-in-Chief would paste them at the canteen, the lobby, the gymnasium, and so on. And once again, servitude’s for free. Without salary. Yet my almost-numb right hand and my brain clasping like cymbals, vibrating thoroughly inside my consciousness, stressed, and being worried and occupied with so much things: it’s worth it. I enjoyed the Intrams, of being a Senior wherein the Freshmen would tell, hoy, may dadaan. Privileges.

Uhh, the Sophomores won the Cheering Competition. We’re second. Why? We helped the Sophies just to lose those Juniors. We are so busted. All the while, I enjoyed eating nachos. Prom’s near (either Feb 5 or 9).

And I passed USTET. It’s Psychology. And I’m waiting list in Journalism. Sayang, Journ pa mandin gusto ko.