Indulgence

thieves

Leah Andreone from Hell to Pay (written by Andreone, Andreone and Neigher)
If there was no hell to pay, would you still believe in God?

Someone took 5 or 6 of my blog entries and posted it in her blog. She changed the names to that of people whom she has mentioned in her blog; changed some of the names of places to be more referential to her way of life and even adjusted some of the characters of her version of the blog to be more in tune with the way her life turned out to be. But other than these minor revisions, it's my blog, all the way down to the epigraph at the beginning of the entry. She's stolen my words and made it appear like it was hers.

To make matters worse, she's also taken from the blogs of 2 of my friends, 2 entries from my friend Jayce who publishes Cobwebs and Souls and 3 entries from Superboy Speaks.

In my blog, the entry First Rain of May, which was my Mother's Day entry, I had talked about writing a letter to my mother, thanking her for the way she had brought me up. In her version, she wrote about how she wrote a letter to her grandmother about how she brought her up and thanking her. She wasn't very careful, though, because she missed out one part. It was still written as "Mom" when she should have changed it to "Grandma" or whatever she calls the bitch who gave birth to her parents. My ending line of And so I will, Mom. I will. she paraphrased And so I will, grandma. I will.

I don't know how many more blogs she ripped off from. Reading through pages and pages of her blog, you could tell the difference in writing from each one. There are moments when it's probably her writing, her with her bad english and lapses in spelling. I have lapses in my spelling but Jayce and my other friend do not have these faults. And I try my best to follow the English spelling of wrods whereas some other people use American spelling.

I am beyond pissed. My blood boils and I feel violated and that's not easy. For God's sake, I post my whole life on the internet on a daily basis, how can you possibly violate me?! I tell people intimate details of my life. Ask me a question, no more how personal or embarrassing and more often than not, I will answer honestly. How can you violate me?! And yet this bitch has. She has taken my words and made it her own. She has taken other people's words and made it her own.

From my entry slipping into new skin she even took my phrase Lost In Transition which is something I coined for myself. I've never heard anybody else use that term but myself. And she now has the gall to claim it as her own? In my entry Reversal of Fortunes, I clamour over the heart break that is caused when one cannot reciprocate the affection and love from someone. She took this from me. The exact way I had decided to express my loss and sadness, she chose to take it for her own. I mentioned in that entry that I went to a bar/restaurant with my close friends Charles, Gerard and Jaypee and she changed it to Cafe Havana with DaKidd, Slyde and Sean; whoever these people may be.

She even took my 2nd ever entry in this blog, Two Steps in the Water where I start with the epigraph from the Kate Bush song Hounds of Love. I know less than 10 Filipinos of my age who even know who Kate Bush is apart from her song This Woman's Work which shows up in the Felicity soundtrack. And most of those people don't even remember who sang the song. They only vaguely remember the name when they ask me who my favourite singer/songwriter is. And she claims to be familiar with one of the greatest solo female artist of the 80's?

She even stole from someone else's blog about how this lady was denied entry to this group for single mothers. All of a sudden she's a single mother as well? In her profile, it says that she has no children and she would put that in her blog? All of a sudden, she pretends she is a single mother?

The nerve! The nerve of this woman; this child! I hope one day I meet her and I can tell her exactly what I think about her. And I honestly don't care if most of what I think are mere assumptions and surface judgments. I want to see her cry and in pain.

This woman calls her Drunken_angel on the Filipino Friend Finder website and I believe her real name is May from somewhere in the province of Laguna.

May, you probably read this site if you've taken parts of this blog. I pray that we do not ever meet and that if we do, I do not realise who you are because I do not want to be driven to anger. I've never had to deal with the full force of my anger. I do not want to break you in half because I can.

posted by wanggo @ 5:21 PM 13 comments

Sabbath

Anais Nin
We write to taste life twice.

After such a horrible illness; the double whammy that was the coming of a fever and indigestion, leaving me feeling rather weak and useless; I was able to somehow fix my broken body clock on Sunday and decided to take it easy. I had plans of going back to work to catch up on things but went against it. Instead, I listened to some music, rested my body, got some nutrition back into my system, took a vitamin or two and when I discovered my friends were going to watch a movie nearby my brother's place (where I was recuperating), I decided to follow. I knew it wasn't going to take too much of a toll out of my system.

We ended up watching three movies, one after the other and ate. We watched the local film La Visa Loca which was a delight followed by the no-brainer, pure entertainment that was House of Wax and then the animated comedy Madagascar, which brought a smile on my face but didn't move me like an animated film by Pixar would.

The day was spent away from the usual stress of life in an insane effort to keep myself sane and healthy. Like I had been talking to a lot of people, no matter how much work I accomplish within this year and no matter how good my resume may appear at the end of this rollercoaster, there is no excuse for voluntarily destroying your health. As the addage goes, I don't want to be old before I get old.

I have to watch myself sometimes. I have this natural tendency to talk in absolutes, as if I've been through a whole lot and I know the ways of the world. I may have gone through more than most people my age and I have listened to stories and read a lot to be able to speak with a certain level of experience, but I'm not as wise as I would like to think I am. After all, would a wise person subject himself to the torture I subjected myself to?

Everything in time will bloom nurtured by nature's grace and ways. Do not fight it nor try to rush it. Everything will find it's place in time. And all it's potentials will be realised. I suppose, I can argue that it is my natural way to always push and try to reach my destination earlier than is expected; but I now plan to use a little more of my mind as well as my heart in this journey. I do not want to sleep for 24 hours again in my life because of physical, emotional and mental exhaustion. That is a whole day that was wasted, in bed, regaining my strength.

Slow and steady wins the race. Learn from the tortoise.

posted by wanggo @ 2:44 PM 2 comments

less than a hundred percent

Michael Ignatieff
Truth is good, but not all truth is good to say.

I got sick. I got really, really sick. I couldn't get out of bed. My whole body was racked with weakness. It wasn't pain, it was more like, I couldn't get up, couldn't move. Weakness is this hollow feeling that tingles all over your arms and legs when you try to stand or reach out for something. I was dizzy everytime I move just a bit. I couldn't stand for very long, couldn't walk straight. I didn't go to work. I stayed in bed and just waited until my head stopped spinning. I would fall asleep and then wake up 3 hours later. Then try to stand and I couldn't but had to because I'm also suffering from horrible indigestion. I'd make it to the bathroom to relieve myself and my crap was all watery. It was practically liquid. Something I ate also is giving me this horrible state of indigestion which is leaving me dehydrated. I didn't eat the whole day of Friday. I just drank a lot of water to ensure I wouldn't die of dehydration. With nothing in my stomach, I would think that the indigestion would quickly leave my system but it didn't. Every 3 hours, I'd wake up and still rush to the bathroom. I'd get weaker by the moment. It was horrible.

And after 24 hours of being asleep, I just had to get up and do something. I have a volleyball game and I'm hoping I'll be strong enough to play. I don't know... am I pushing myself too far again?

But I already resigned from one of my jobs. That should give me some time to get my body back to full charge. People were right, I was spreading myself too thin. I was not being fair to all my employers. I wasn't giving them the full benefits of my services. I was burning the candle at both ends. And it wasn't fair.

I know better now. It's time to take care of me. I know I love work but I've got to take it easy. If I get sick, I won't be able to work, right? So it's time to take care of myself.

posted by wanggo @ 5:26 AM 1 comments

turtle

Henry David Thoreau
How vain is it to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live.

Pretty soon I can move out and that will be one major problem that will be done and over. I didn't realise how much added stress this whole moving out thing has been causing me. It has always been at the back burner of everything and really causing me more pain and stress and pressure and once I'm done with it, I can move on with a lot of things. For one, it will definitely end this whole deal with my former landlord that's really getting on my nerves.

Of course, I'd have to find a place of my own again sometime later this year. My parents are still selling the condo and I'm only moving in to help out my brother and to be more practical for the moment. In the long run, it's only for a short while, a little road bump in the history of my independence. I don't consider it moving back in with my parents since they aren't paying for anything. My brother and I pay for everything. And it's just going to be us -- his family and me. I'd still have to save up a whole lot of money to pay for the deposit and the advance of where it is I'm going to be transferring to.

*sigh* I remember writing a poem a few years ago about the turtle, how it must be so tough to be carrying your home all the time, everywhere you go, on your back. Funny, thinking about it now, how wonderful a metaphor that is, the turtle carrying his home on his back. Home is something you bring around with you. It's not a place but a feeling you have. There is a beautiful line about home in the movie Garden State and I can't remember how it goes; all I know is that it was mentioned in the swimming pool scene. Home is an idea of what things should be like, the standard for comfort and stability. In which case, I have a very high standard for comfort and stability since my idea of home was formed by my parents. My parents did their best to make home a place their kids found everything they need. They actually succeeded because as kids to teen-agers, my brothers, sister and I never left the house. Right after school, we usually went home and stayed there. There was no need to go out of the house, everything we needed was there.

I remember my uncle, all of a sudden. He visited us in Manila and we were having dinner and having a grand time and he remembered that I was a published poet and a practicing writer. He asked me to stand up and recite a poem. I told him I didn't memorize any of my poems; that I would go to my room to get a print out and he said I didn't have to. He told me to just make one then and there. I said I couldn't, that I was embarrassed to do so. My cousins and siblings tried to change the subject but my uncle insisted. The subject had already been changed but all I could think about was what my uncle wanted and he would join in on the new topic but he kept looking at me, every once in a while until I couldn't control myself any longer. I stood up and everyone looked at me and I recited a poem called Turtle.

I had just written that poem recently but couldn't remember a single line. So I made a new one carrying the same concept as the original. Afterwards, everyone kept quiet and they looked at me. My uncle started to applaud me and told me he was so proud of me. He was expecting me to make palagpat, which is an Ilonggo word that means something akin to fool around or play around with it. He said that what I said that night was very lovely. He was touched and asked me for a hug.

I'd wanted to be a writer for a long time because I wanted to touch people the way I had been when I read but it was then, sometime 4 years ago that I actually thought I could do it. It was an amazing experience.

posted by wanggo @ 5:40 PM 2 comments

a mouthful

Hanlon's Razor
Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.

I have complained time and time again about the amount of work I had been carrying. Recently, I told my cousin that it is merely happy complaining; it is something that naturally comes with the territory. After all, there'd be no challenge if everything came easily, right? So I may complain and complain but I really do enjoy the work that I do.

But I stupidly decided to bite way off more than I can chew and find myself with my mouth filled with my own foot. I stupidly said "yes" to all these projects that came my way and I couldn't deal with it. I was sleeping 2 hours a day, I was under-performing and I hate under-performing. It's really a bad career move. People will think you have no focus and that you are unreliable. That sucks; it really does.

I've really messed up and I can see now that, though I could probably do the job, it would be at the expense of my health and my reputation. At the same time, it wasn't working out with the mere fact that all my schedules were getting fucked up. All the deadlines fell on the same date and all the shoots had the same schedule. I literally had to be in two places at the same time if I were to actually, successfully handle these two shows plus all the other stuff I had accepted.

So I decided to spit out a big chunk of that which I bit into. I talked to my boss in one of my jobs and told the truth; I couldn't hack it. I feel that I've been under-performing and I didn't want that sort of reputation. I was much better than he probably thinks I am but I would have no proof. I was just coming late, always sleepy and moving slow. I was not performing at full capacity. It isn't fair to them or to any of the people I'm working for.

So I let go of one of my jobs; in 2 weeks, I'd free up my schedule and I can try to get some level of normalcy back. I can sleep more, rest my body and think on my feet better. I'd have more time on my hands and hopefully I can go wall-climbing again. I can start functioning at 100% efficiency.

And that's what is important to me. It's not about the money. It was always about what I could learn -- about the industry, about the artform, about myself. And I learned something. I learned my limit and the limits of others. I learned to take care of myself and to say "no" and that doesn't necessarily mean you will disappoint them; because you are saving them from much bigger disappointment when you produce work less than satisfactory.

It's a lot to learn. It's a humbling experience but I'm glad it's done and over. The faster I can fix things...

posted by wanggo @ 2:26 AM 0 comments

rain

Soren Kierkegaard
The door to happiness opens outward.

The rain has begun to fall. Today, I woke up at 5:30 in the afternoon, the skies were dark and lightnight punctuated the darkness; thunder rumbled in the distance. A cold breeze swept through my open window and since I fell asleep wearing nothing but my boxers, I was chilled.

I took a shower and prepared to go to work. I put on a long-sleeved shirt, my bonnet and a pair of beige slacks. I prepared an overnight bag thinking I'd be sleeping overnight at the office. I stepped out of my condo and it began to rain. I made it to the MRT in time. It had begun to pour and I barely made it to the office dry. I was a little drenched but nothing too serious.

The rains have come. I'm hoping this is the last of the this blistering heat that has made things just a little unbearable these past few days.

I went to work and checked some stuff. Later, I went down to smoke. This stray cat that has made the area of our office had come and begun rubbing herself on my legs. The gesture was just so sweet, I bent my back to scratch behind her ears, the back of her neck and underneath her jaw. I remembered my sister's cat liked that very much. So did this one.

I remembered my sister's cat, Sissypuss and then the stray we picked up, Pussyplus. Both cats were darlings. And while Pussyplus insisted on her stray days, only coming home when it would rain and to feed; she barely made her presence known but did, once in a while, shower us with some affection. But mostly, she stayed outside chasing rats and occasionally, we would see her stalking the neighbors roof, trying out her luck with some maya birds. Sissypuss was a house cat through and through; a pure breed Siamese. If I am not mistaken, she's a blue point, I think that's what they're called.

Sissypuss was both a darling and a terror. For some strange reason, she knew when you were feeling bad and she would be affectionate, purring while rubbing herself on your leg. Despite what sadness you were feeling, you'd lift her up and stroke her, scratching the back of her ears or below her jaw, places she couldn't scratch herself. It's as if, by asking us to shower her with affection, we would forget our problems. It was in the act of nurturing or taking care of another that we would find some level of peace. And it did work.

Other times, she would stalk us, hiding beneath furniture and, without warning, claw and bite our unsuspecting legs. She'd then run at the sound of the shriek and the frantic calling of her name. Before her arrival, I would be alone in the living room, dancing to whatever music I had decided to put on. This agitated movement would cause her to enter predatory mode and attack me relentlessly. During Physical Education, in my gym shorts, everybody would ask me why my legs were filled with nicks and scratches. "We have a cat at home," would be my quick reply. Question answered, heads nodding in affirmation and we'd go on to our activity.

I remember the old house in Lee Street where we used to live. I grew up there. 11 years of my life had been spent in that house. I remember the huge windows in the living room. It was pretty much 90% of the whole wall. There was a ledge that you could sit on and watch the garden where my yaya (nanny) had grown a beautiful garden of gumamelas and bounganvillas (not sure of the spelling). When it would rain and there was nothing to do, I'd sit on the ledge of those windows and look out at the rain, washing everything down with a gentle shower. The sound is magickal.

I remember this very fondly and all of a sudden. I wonder why but it leaves a smile on my face. It has been a very cruel summer. I welcome the coming of the rain. For me, it signals the end of something. This something is not particularly painful, more like gruelling or exhausting. It's over. It's done. On to the next chapter...

posted by wanggo @ 3:12 AM 1 comments

the weekend

From a chat session with my friend, Charles
True pleasure is always mutual in its execution and performance...

It's been a long time since I've spent a weekend as a weekend. Not true, though, since I still worked on Saturday night, but I did things as weekends should be. Saturday morning found me playing volleyball and losing (as I've said) and then I spent the afternoon just wasting time away. I went home after and read a bit, slept a little and then woke up to go to work. After dinner, I went to a club that I used to frequent in my days of going out and working.

We started at around 11 in the evening and finished work at about 2am. We were shooting a segment for MTV which involved asking the people in the club to request a video. I got some of my friends to help me out reach my quota and make the job faster. Without a budget, we couldn't feed the crew and I didn't want them to stay very long. Afterwards, I went back to the office where I had left my cell phone and then dropped off the tapes and then ran back to the club were I had a nice long talk with a good friend I hadn't seen in a long time. We caught up and discovered what had happened to each other since we've been pretty absent in each other's lives except through the occasional text message displaying our continued interest in each other's day-to-day affairs.

Then my other friends arrived, picked me up and we went to another club where I realised it had been a month or so since I last went dancing. I decided to let loose and move my feet to the beat. I was a crazy whirlwind of feet movement and smiles. I was just so happy to be dancing again. We left the club and it was already morning. We stopped by a McDonald's and had our breakfast meal. We then went home and slept.

When I woke up, it was the middle of Sunday; 3pm in the afternoon. My friends and I decided to watch 2 movies. So I took a shower, dressed up and, without eating in fear of being late for the movie (which was at 5:10) took the mrt to Glorietta. My friends and I watched Bikini Open by the amazingly clever Jeffrey Jetturian which I enjoyed immensely. We then had dinner at Kitchen in Greenbelt. I had not eaten in Kitchen in a long time and I really missed the food there. It was enjoyable.

We then watched Episode 3, Revenge of the Sith which I did not like. Nope, I didn't like it at all. It was irrelevant, in my opinion. But it was just great to be watching a film in a movie theatre again with my friends. After the film, we walked out and took a leisure stroll around Greenbelt until we separated. But Jaypee, Marq and I decided to go to Jaypee's house to watch one more film. I watch Mike Leigh's All or Nothing which was very good, if not heavy. I then fell asleep and woke up in time to make my appointments for the day.

I decided not to do work on Sunday like I had planned. And it is good to actually feel like a human again. It's been a while; I guess I've been feeling like a machine that past few days. It is important, I suppose, to take the weekends seriously. To recharge, to become whole again because you lose parts of yourself when you work so hard and have to deal with the everyday.

And so, yes, it is good to be human again...

posted by wanggo @ 8:16 PM 0 comments

moments

Alan Watts
Trying to define yourself is very much like trying to bite your own teeth.

I bought some Tic Tacs, orange flavoured. I was surprised since the plastic was coloured orange, but the Tic Tac is still white. For a few minutes, I was confused. Because of the plastic colouring, I thought that even the Tic Tac would be orange as well. I was mistaken. It was a moment of disjointed reality.

Yesterday, I was having dinner at Ziggurat with my friends Anne, Jaypee and Mon. It was a sort of business meeting since we were thinking up of a project we could work on but being friends, personal stories and general merriment was the atmosphere of our dinner. We laughed as much as we thought hard on certain things. We thought of things on an artistic sense and in a personal sense as well. It was a nice time. We thought as much as we felt. It was a welcome change.

We lost our volleyball game this morning. It was a needed win because our opponent, the Corporate Services Group had yet to be beaten. No one was there to cheer us on except people who we've fought before. They cheered us on, our former opponents from game's past because they didn't want CSG to take the first round in a sweep. But we lost. We were doing good, actually, we were leading and we were doing fine. Then the pressure hit and one mistake led to another and tempers flared and we lost concentration. We lost it. We lost the game. But I wasn't pissed. I did feel bad and I do wish we won. I could see all our mistakes so clearly, run it through my head like some video player with the camera pointed at the right direction, capturing it all in the frame. But there's no point. Considering 2 of our good players were not there, we did pretty well. I'm proud of what we were able to do. It's just sad we dropped the ball. We gave in to the pressure. We got into each other's nerves.

Things are getting easier now. Paying off some debts. Very soon, probably next week, I'll be able to move out and get myself settled at my brother's. Things will be different there. The rules will give my life some level of order, structure. There will be more or less impetus to stay or leave. There will be more reason to the things that I do. And I see that as a good thing.

On the day that I got a big paycheck from one of my projects, I went around and ended up giving coins and change to beggars and kids around me. If anything, I know what it is like to some very tiny, small degree. I can't properly enjoy my hard earned cash and see these people starving. I did what I can, as pathetically small as it was but it was the only way I could feel good about getting paid. It's just the way I am, I guess. Maybe it is just some sense of guilt, I don't know...

Anyway, I just want to share an old poem of mine. I'm ending this entry with my poem entitled "Poem."


Poem

1.

He quotes from somewhere “All
stories are about love.” This is after,
I quote “At its most basic, all stories
come from only four possible plots.”

That means he knows I’m in love.

That means there are only four possible
beginnings and endings.

And that the only reason stories are written
is love. Because of, in the search of,
in the validation of.

2.

That was two hours later, drinking
coffee with literate friends and artists
of the body and of the mind.

Two hours ago, I was with you.

I found myself keeping still while I was laughing;
you might’ve been inspired and decided
to take my photograph.

I’ve always wanted to be remembered for my laughter.
A simple sound, a little gesture of the mouth,
the tilt of the head. And always:
the eyes are closed. A little bit of bliss.

But you continued focusing on the door,
the lights, the drawing of the sun and moon
That you made for me.

Two hours ago, I was with you,
you were holding your camera steady
gauging light; finding beauty in wood, cement,
tile, fluorescent.

I was watching your back arch
as you stooped to catch the light from above.

I remember the drawing.

3.

The moon cradled the sun,
cupping it and holding it close.

From any angle, their noses will touch;
if only there was movement in drawings.

But there are none.
So any message we acquire
is nothing but our eyes finding meaning
from curves and straight lines.

4.

We bid each other good bye.
A ritual of pain through words;
we say one thing and mean another.

So if all stories are about love,
are all poems about pain?

This time I watch your back
distance itself from me.
You are going home.

I rush to the café and find peace
in café lattes with six packs of sugar,
artists of the body and of the mind,
who are friends, who know

5.

“That all stories are about love.” And who will
listen to the fact that all stories “stem
from only four basic plot structures.”

They know I am in love,
I wouldn’t be there, otherwise,

and this has only four ways of ending.

And all poems are about pain, anyway.

posted by wanggo @ 1:56 PM 1 comments

from lily pad to lily pad

Robert Service
It isn't the mountain ahead that wears you out... it's the grain of sand in your shoe.

With very little sleep, I trod on through the days jumping from one job to the next. I feel like some little frog jumping from lily pad to lily pad and it seems endless but I want to get to the other side of the river, get to the other side of the shore; the other side of the river bank. I could swim, I suppose but there's just so much danger lurking underneath the surface of the water, stuff you can't see. It's dangerous. Sometimes I do swim, some lily pads are farther apart and I can't get there by jumping.

I can exhaust this little analogy till its worn out and incongruent but I don't want to. I don't want to be a little frog in a very huge river. I want to get to the other side, find the princess who is going to kiss me and turn me into the prince that I can be. I'm tired. I'm really tied right now but I know, in the end, this will all be worth it. I'm learning so much and I'm building up an impressive resume and maybe, hopefully, one day, it will all amount to something.

I wonder if that's all that frogs think of? Will I amount to something?

In a way, I had too many starts and stops. I started writing back in high school, writing for the local comic industry. In college, I moved on to writing on an internet website that catered to youth interests. Eventually, I started writing for magazines and newspapers and the like. Non-stop working, writing, ever since I was in high school. Right after college, though, I started working in the academe. I was in the administration, working as a coordinator for the Student Publication's Office and then later, found myself teaching which I loved. But new policies stopped my post-graduate education since I was no longer eligible for a tuition fee discount. Without it, it was easy for them to kick me out when I had this fight with the Department Chair at the time.

From there I moved to advertising but I didn't last for long. I followed with freelance writing -- writing for magazines and getting these writing jobs for PR stuff, ad copy and script writing for live events and the like. It wasn't a particularly good period in my life; I was barely making out fine and I was doing this until I got into television.

Along the way, modeling and acting reared its head but never really took a dominant stand in my life. It was too late, I suppose. And I am too self-conscious, too self-aware to be an effective performer. It would take so much work to get rid of all that self-consciousness and I honestly don't have the time to start from scratch.

I was working so hard in making sure I would be nothing like my father; that I would excel in a field away from his. Writing may be close to film but there was still some distance. At the time, I wanted to be a writer of books, novels, poems and the like. Had I known that I would end up wanting to direct films just like my Dad, I would have started earlier. A lot of people I work with are younger than I and have been in the business longer. A lot of people I work with took up Mass Communications or Film and have an actual academic background and some technical knowledge in what we do. I have none, learning everything as I go along since my major was Literature and Creative Writing.

I'm not saying that I'm winging it or anything like that; I do know a lot of theory but it is all self-taught, self-studied. I continue to train myself now but if only I had known that this is where I'd end up, I wouldn't have bothered trying so hard to be different, to stay away from the world that I felt belonged to my Father; and for a time, my brother Datu who had plans of becoming a director.

But no regrets. That would be such a big mistake now and it will only hold me back. I'm good in other things and see the whole industry and the process in a different way and I think that's good. If anything, I have a great hold of narrative structure and that makes me different. More than anything, I'm a story-teller more than I am a film-maker. There is a big difference there. That might make me different, give me some level of originality. I hope it measures up in the long run.

Bounce-bounce, hop-hop; I'm a little frog jumping from one pad to the next, took the long route to where I am finally going to end up. There's no real sense in going back now, not when I've been through so much.

I don't know why I ended up talking about these things. I had no plans for this entry and decided to go into it freestyle. And I ended up writing some sort of resume and talking about what it is that I hope to be eventually good at; to what I want my life to mean.

And what is it that is at the other side of the river? I want to be a conduit for art -- let it flow through me, filter through me and find expression with the medium that I am good at. It will be stories -- whether in a book or a film or, hopefully, music. I want art to be my contribution to this world.

posted by wanggo @ 6:58 PM 0 comments

Delight

Anatole France
Time deals gently only with those who take it gently.

The other day, I was suppose to go home and get some rest for another busy day and yet, I found myself on a bus at 11am heading towards Baclaran. It is a bus I always take but I always get off at Shaw station. I must've passed Baclaran many times but never really stopped and took a look at the Baclaran church which I hear is the cause of traffic during Wednesday. Getting down from the bus, I took a look at the dirty streets filled with people standing at the curb and waiting for the right jeep to take them home (or maybe even to work). I crossed the highway and into the many stalls that sold everything the mind could imagine at 12 midnight without much sleep or rest. There were stalls for these really tall lamps made of painted cloth that looked really lovely, stalls for pirated dvds, shoes, clothes, trinkets and even food. The streets were filthy with cigarette butts on the floor, plastic ripped in half just lying there, broken paper cups and others.

And yet there was the Baclaran church. I didn't see all of it since to come close to the Church felt like I was just attracting danger. Around it, it seemed that the grass was green and there were benches and trees but it was so dark and if anybody was there, you could not tell. I preferred to stay at the crowded area where people could see me. I walked around the perimeter admiring the white walls of the church and imagining the flocks of people coming on Wednesdays to make their prayers to God. That must be an amazing sight.

All this internal revelry was cut short as a crowd began to gather near Chowking because a man who has been screaming and preaching for the past 5 minutes has fallen to the floor. He kept shouting that he was dying. It took 4 people to lift him up and carry him off with the man shouting Ba't niyo ako dinadala sa presinto? (Why are you bringing me to the precint?) As I walked away not wanting to be a part of the spectacle, I over heard two teen-agers talking. One was mimicking the crazy man shouting and screaming while the other said loudly, Kung patay ka na, ba't ka pa nagsasalita? (If you are dead, why are you still speaking?)

I then went to another branch of Chow King in the same area and ordered a serving of Halo-halo with a scoop of ice cream. I ate it happily to help escape the city's ever-draining humidity. The taste of ice cream made fireworks in my mouth and I found this increasing sense of delight, being in an alien place, seeing a different side of Manila, one I don't see often and ending it all with a fantastic sweet dish.

I enjoyed the whole experience immensely. It was the whole idea of being spontaneous, adventurous, maybe I can even say careless. And it was fun to be that way, to be so random. The sheer delight made me feel alive.

It is good to be alive.

posted by wanggo @ 3:23 AM 1 comments

another day goes by

Anonymous
Sometimes time is the wound.

We won our second volleyball match again last Saturday. I didn't play for very long but ended up cheering the hell out of the gym. My voice raised over the clamoring of the basketball game and the klaxon and people outside the gym was wondering who was the guy with a megaphone. I don't know if the added morale boost helped at all but I was with my team in spirit all the way. I may have just gotten 2 minutes of court action but I felt every triumph when we scored a point. We almost lost, it was tough game. But I guess that made the victory even sweeter. Our coach said that we were finally becoming a team. We were finally starting to gel as a group.

That's nice to know.

And while things are as hectic as ever, they are finding their proper space and time in my day-to-day. And so while I may not get as much sleep as I would want; I don't have to be so rushed anymore. There's more time now to smile, to think, to plan ahead, to get things in proper gear, to take a short breather and meet up with friends. Life is good. You just have to be patient and believe, I suppose.

It's funny, I guess, how I keep running back and forth; swinging from depressed and angry to satisfied and happy. I find myself unbelievably perky these past few days and that's a good thing; but in a way, I find it so hypocritical considering my state of mind in the past few weeks. I know that all of those emotions have their reasons but still; I can be such a freak sometimes.

I can't wait for the coming of the big summer movies. Batman Begins and Sin City are the first movies that pop into my head. Kingdom of Heaven is already showing but I don't see myself having time this week to watch it. I'm hoping it will be a big hit and will still be in the theatres next week when I can go. I love all kinds of films and as much as important, intelligent films are great; you have to have your desert along with your main course, otherwise it isn't a full meal. Mindless fun is still fun.

posted by wanggo @ 11:34 PM 0 comments

everything falling to place

Rabindranath Tagore
Let me think that there is one among those stars that guides my life through the dark unknown.

After several days of running around like a chicken without a head, getting some actual sleep underneath the roof of the unit I'm paying for, sleeping in my clothes that I've designated for sleeping (and not the clothes I was wearing at work and sleeping in it because I am not sleeping at home), I took 2 to 3 hours off of running around to hang out with friends to help remind me of who it is I want to be, who it is that I am and why it is I'm working so hard for. It was a welcome break. Today, I woke up, with all prior commitments done from one office, I hurried off to the next in the midst of getting evicted and got stuff done there. All of a sudden, everything is falling into place and I can actually see the silver lining with all the clouds that seem to be forming in the sky.

Patience has always been the key, one of the most important virtues to have in this rat race of a world of ours and sadly, not one of the virtues I possess. I had a very good talk with my Dad and surprisingly, we found ourselves on the same boat. Exactly same sort of situations that we got ourselves into, can't get ourselves out of because we need to be in that situation and just working it and working it to get out, and not just get out but to get out as winners.

I wonder if everyone born in the year of the sheep/goat is suffering from the same dilemma. Has it been a promise of a good year and then everything has turned sour, and all the promises made to you were delayed but some strange, unnatural yet logical reason and you are on the wings just waiting and working hard without seeing the fruits of your labour blooming? And now, is everything clear, everything apparent and all you have to do is wait and you know you are going to be fine? Because that is how it is for me right now.

At least now, it is easier to smile, easier to breathe and things will fix itself in time and if I just keep working at it. At least life doesn't seem to be as futile as it did a month ago. Now, I can act like I've always been and be good company again.

To all who had to put up with me, thank you for putting up with me. I know I've been quite difficult these past few weeks. Everything has dropped from the sky and falling exactly into place, if not near where they are suppose to land and it just requires me to kick them a few feet into were they are suppose to be.

The first rain of May does heal past wounds. How silly of me to think that it had to be actual rain; figuratively, it did just fine for me. I can be too fatalistic sometimes.

posted by wanggo @ 9:13 PM 0 comments

as expected

Max Sharam from Coma
I live like I live in a coma
I smoke like an iron lung
Hide out in the dark when it's summer
I never go out in the sun

I got home, my first time in 3 days and took a long shower and listened to some of my CDs. I lay down and my eyes just closed on its own and I was fast asleep. That was about 1 in the morning. I woke up at 7 in the morning due to horrible, horrible cough and found a text from my boss saying that our sched has been moved from 10am to 6pm. I went back to sleep, disturbed by intermittent coughing and I finally relaxed enough to sleep again. I woke up at 3 in the afternoon.

I slept for over 12 hours. I think 14 and I had that grogginess that you get when you over-sleep. I stayed in bed and just switched the CD player on again. I laid there for a bit and just thought about what the hell was going on in my life. I stayed there as Merril Bainbridge kept singing that she could be my lover under the water. That was pretty kind of her to offer.

So now, I'm back at work and there is a sluggishness to me. It's inertia, holding me back. I was at a state of rest and I want to remain in that state of rest except there is a stronger force that is pushing me towards motion. That force is called work. And I answer that call willingly and with much haste.

Right now, I find myself in a quandary. It is work that will save me from a lot of my problems right now but it is also work that is killing me. How lovely is that?

posted by wanggo @ 5:34 PM 0 comments

sweet sleep

Albert Einstein
2 things are infinite: the universe and stupidity; and I am not sure about the universe.

I haven't been home in 3 days. I just passed by to change my clothes. Spent a total of 40 minutes in my condo before rushing out again. It's one job to the next. I'm running on adrenalin and pure will power. When I sleep, I'm really out of it. It's the life I decided to lead.

So I won't complain.

Right now, all I want is a whole day just to sleep. A nice comfortable bed with soft, fluffy pillows and a huge comforter. Right now, I'd have the air-conditioner on. I don't usually. I usually am fine with just opening the window, but I'll make an exception for this one.

I'd have relaxing music playing, some chill-out tunes to help me get in the mood for sleep and then just wait for slumber to take over.

No need to count sheep, no need to focus on my breathing or on relaxing. With all of those requirements met, I'd just close my eyes and be off to dreamland.

Right now, that's all I want.

posted by wanggo @ 10:14 PM 1 comments

Gypsy

Alex Parks from Wandering Soul (written by Alex Parks, Gary Clark & Boo Hewerdine)
I'm just a wandering soul waiting for someone to take hold
And I'd choose not to love you I've been here too many times before

For almost close to two months now, I have barely slept at my condo. I probably end up sleeping there every other day or so because I'm usually over-nighting at the office and then, with all the extra jobs I'm handling, I would find myself going home to take a shower, change and then off to the next job. Lately, I've been going without much sleep, stealing naps on couches and on transit because there's just too much to do.

Sometimes, just as I am about to finish work, I'd get a message from my best friend Jaypee asking me if I'm doing anything. If not, he says, go to my place and let's watch DVDs. How can I refuse? Off I go and we watch movies and talk about things and I end up sleeping there, waking up in the morning and then going home to take another shower, change and then off to work again.

Sometimes, mostly during Sundays, I visit my brother and his family and we make a whole day of it and I sometimes end up sleeping there as well in my Dad's room which is usually empty. When he's in town, the more I'd choose to stay there for the night that way I can spend more time with my Dad.

It has come to the point where I bring an extra change of underwear and an extra shirt in my bag. I also bring, at all times, a tooth brush with toothpaste and my anti-perspirant. I never know exactly where I will be sleeping that night. I could've gone home after writing all my scripts but the sky threatens rain and I don't want to get caught in the rain in the middle of getting home. I usually walk from Starmall to my condominium. There's no way I'm going to let myself get drenched. I don't mind, really, but there are things in my bag that cannot afford to get wet.

So I realised awhile back that I can be considered, in some post-modern, contemporary way, as a sort of working gypsy. I never really can call somewhere home. I've become accustommed to being comfortable with any bathroom -- be it the office or some restaurant or someone else's house. I consider home many different places and not just one; my familiarity spans to so many locations. I can sleep practically anywhere and I can feel at home the moment you tell me to feel at home.

I wonder around this city and everything is potentially a place for me to spend my time before I'm once again dragged by circumstance to somewhere else. I've become this boat without an anchor, this kite without its string. I'm not attached to any one place. I'm free to roam. I'm a gypsy, I guess...

posted by wanggo @ 3:39 AM 1 comments

the first rain of May

Indigo Girls from Dairy Queen (written by Amy Ray)
The love you gave was not for free
But the price was truly fair
I never felt so glad to be
So well spent and so beyond repair

There's this superstition or whatnot that says if you bathe in the first rain of May, all your past hurts and the pain washes away. Some beliefs say that you will be showered with money if you allow yourself to be wet by the first rain of May. I always believed that. I remember, with my family, when we would catch the first rain of May, we'd run outside and let ourselves be drenched underneath the cold water falling from the sky.

There was a time I was in Bacolod taking a scriptwriting class being taught by my father and Dr. Elsa Coscolluela. It was May and someone rushed in saying that it had begun to rain. My father stopped the class for awhile so that we could rush out and stand under the rain.

Looking back, I've never been particularly rich at any point in my life because of the rain. There were times that I was but it was inconsistent. I did this superstition every year and found myself not blessed by any sort of mystical fortune nor has any of the pains and hurt been removed from my being. I still felt it after.

I was writing scripts an hour or so prior to this entry and heard the rain begin to pour outside the window. This time, I had no desire to rush out and spread my arms out and close my eyes submitting to the shower and the magick it is suppose to bless all those who embrace its coming. This time, like how I decided how I was to spend my New Year's, was to forego all these free blessings from age-old beliefs. I decide to take this world by the reins and make it all about the actions that I do and leave nothing to chance or to the kindness of the fortunes, the spirits or any other supernatural force.

I've never won the lottery. I'm not the type. Deep inside, some bitterness taking over, I always felt that maybe God never meant for me to be lucky because everything I need, I can acquire by my own will and the skills I was given. I don't need freebies or the generosity of chance; all I need is to want something bad enough and work for it and it will be mine. It can be mine. I don't know whether that belief is true or even fair but it has allowed me to be less angry at the good fortune of others. It has allowed me to believe in myself.

I also told my Mom, wrote her an e-mail and said that I feel that any luck I had, I emptied by being born in this family, by being born her son. If it were not for the open-mindedness, the generosity and love I've received growing up, I wouldn't be the person I am today. And despite all the trouble and hardships I'm going through now, I like who I am and I'm proud of what I have accomplished and what is yet to be. I was nurtured and all my potentials were nourished ever so lovingly by my mother and father.

I've received letters and texts telling me to greet my mom a Happy Mother's Day from them because they feel that if it weren't for her, I wouldn't be here in this world. And I know they don't just mean that if it weren't for her I wouldn't exist but that if it weren't for the way she brought me up, I wouldn't be the way I am now. A lot of what I am has to do with my family. And for that, they are grateful as I am.

She nurtured my fantasies and let me read, write and dance. She exposed me to so much and I had all the world to choose from and in a way, without ever having to say so, she said the world is yours, take it.

And so I will, Mom. I will.

posted by wanggo @ 5:22 AM 2 comments

it's great to win sometimes...

T.S. Eliot
You are the music while the music lasts.

I finally got to play my first game of volleyball with my colleagues and we won. We won our first match! It is an exhilirating feeling and is doing wonders for our morale. At the same time, we are starting to act like a team, I think, learning how to have fun even if we are taking these games seriously. All of a sudden, all our practices during the week are paying off.

With everything going in my life right now, the only times I truly enjoy the day is when I'm playing volleyball and when I'm watching Engkantadia. I can't even enjoy the company of my friends because I'm not myself. I am not who I want to be when I'm with them. I'm more cynical and biting than I usually am. I'm unfocused and for some strange reason, I tend to let out my frustrations often; bring the topic of how bad things are for me at the moment. I don't like that. And they are there for me, always checking up on me and making me feel loved and appreciated and I really admire them for that. I'd be so pissed off with myself. But they are there, giving me the space I asked for. I just didn't feel like I'd be good company and I don't want to bring anyone down with me so I prefer to stay alone. They respect that but they let themselves be present, even if its just in the periphery. Amazing people. Thanks, Jayps. Thanks, Berna. Thanks, Maik.

And the people at work are amazing as well. Such patient and wonderful people. If only people knew how hard my group works and how well they solve these difficult problems and churn out episodes day after day. If people knew, money would be thrown at their faces. They wouldn't be pirated; they'd be kidnapped and forced to work for a rival network.

Engkantadia had an interesting episode last night but a rather corny turn of events in the form of the sudden love story of Alena and Ybarro. Too sudden, too quick. Not much chemistry between them. But everything else is great for me.

Another treat was that my officemate lent me a DVD of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 4 with the episode Hush. I've heard amazing things about this episode. If I'm not mistaken, it was also nominated for an Emmy. I didn't really follow the 4th season so much so catching up with it was great. I can't wait to solve all my financial problems so I can start collecting all the Buffy DVDs. I'd love to have a complete set from Season 1 to Season 7.

Right now, it's all sunshine and rainbows. Got to keep this smile on my face. Get through the dark spots and just keep going and I know, soon, things are going to get better and more stable. Hold on to this victory. It may not be all-encompassing. We won a volleyball game; there's still work to be done, bills to be paid, debts to be honoured; but I can hold on to the victory and ride the waves of emotions that rush through me. Use it. Learn to make any small victory work for me, no matter how tiny it is in the larger scheme of things. Know what they are: small little victories; don't lose sight of the bigger picture, don't stray off to far from orbit. Hold on to the reality of the situation as well. But hold on to these little victories and use them to fuel your energies to start winning the bigger ones, the ones that truly matter. That's the master plan.

It's great to win, sometimes...

posted by wanggo @ 2:56 PM 1 comments

a slight detour

Henry Thoreau
To have friends makes the world seem spacious. At a distance they form longitudes and latitudes.

I've been completely a total mess. And I've also been a total drag. I've been walking around with a frown on my face. Everywhere I go, I am hounded by personal choices that have proven to me that they were bad choices. I've been making a lot of mistakes. I've been taking myself for granted; letting sentimentality direct the course of my life and so, I'm currently in a big mess and totally unhappy and burnt out.

I hate myself when I'm like this. I really, truly hate myself when I'm like this.

So in order not to include everyone in my little "pity party" as my brother likes to put it, I want to go and talk about other things.

I remember growing up, never really fitting in in school because I was this new kid who couldn't speak Filipino (only English) and I had this family name, this over-whelming family name. It was a horrible stigma to remove. I felt so off, I felt so alien. It was really tough. This was from the 2nd grade to the 6th grade.

Eventually, at High School, things changed a bit. My Filipino was still dismal but by then, people had already gotten used to me. I was also able to provide a certain service that allowed me to not be treated horribly in school. I wrote magazine and book reports for free. Apparently, there were people out there who would charge a certain amount to write their magazine and book reports and since I made them for free they were grateful. They didn't treat me as badly as they would've. I guess I was an easy target.

Later, when I was a sophomore, I found myself a group of friends through random seating arrangements that kind of liked my company. We hung out all the time and were pretty much together all the time. They insisted calling it a samahan and not a barkada, apparently there was a difference. I didn't care that they were making what we had smaller than what I wanted it to be. I was just happy to have a group of friends. I felt normal and I felt like I belonged.

I remember we would plan all these trips and we'd go out of town to Laguna and rent a hot spring the whole day and go swimming. We would bring food -- spaghetti we cooked at home and barbeque that we marinated before leaving Manila that we grilled there. I remember renting a Sarao jeep to be with us the whole day and the long drive all the way to Laguna. We opened a tumbler of cheese curls and threw it at each other when we couldn't eat anymore.

At the hot springs, we would go swimming and splash water at each other and do things high school kids do, I guess. We didn't smoke and drink, though, that wasn't our trip. I don't know. Where we innocent and leaning towards the good side or was it just really a more innocent time? We started drinking at senior year and I started smoking after college already. It just wasn't our thing.

I even remember coming home from Laguna, that was December 16, 1993. I promised I would never forget that day, I haven't. There was a huge city-wide blackout. Apparently, a huge school of jelly fish found themselves right at the fan-belt of the hydrogen plant or whatever; I don't quite remember the exact details but I know jelly fish clogged the turning things at the power plant and caused a huge breakdown of machinery and caused an 8 hour or so blackout in the entire city. Without electricity, the city was plunged into darkness and without working signal lights there was a traffic jam that ended all traffic jams. I remember being stuck on the EDSA to Ortigas fly-over, staying at the same spot for 3 hours. We were so bored, we ate all the left-overs of food and even had a food fight with the food that we couldn't finish. We threw chocolate cake at each other, filled each others shoes with cheese curls and washed up after with ice. It was hilarious (at the time) watching my friend step out of the jeep to wipe the windshield of the car behind us because a friend dodged a piece of cake turned projectile. It fell straight into the windshield of the car. I remember it was a black car. I remember how funny it was. I have a big smile on my face now.

The things you remember. I don't hear from those people anymore. It's been a long time. I don't try to get in touch with them, either. I bet we are all different people now, leading different lives. I don't know if any of them are the types of people who would throw chocolate cake at anyone.

I don't know if I'm the type of person who'd throw chocolate cake at anyone. I don't know if I want to do that; times are hard these days. That would be just so wasteful. I'd rather eat it, save it for later. But then again, I was so much younger then and had little worries other than getting good grades. I could be a little frivolous now, if only I could afford to be.

It's a good memory. My fantasies don't alleviate the problems of my reality. They only serve to frustrate me more. So I return to memories that cannot hurt me. These are times so long ago and have no connection to me anymore. I'm no longer affected by them.

They are my respite for these horrible days that have descended upon me...

posted by wanggo @ 10:43 PM 2 comments

a moment to myself

Macy Gray from A Moment to Myself
Here in this moment to myself
I'm gonna vibe with no one else
There is a conversation I need to have with me
It's just a moment to myself

I haven't had a chance to enjoy quiet moments with myself. For the past 2 weeks, I haven't had a chance to just take a long breath and enjoy this life I'm living. I'm so caught up in the day-to-day that I feel like I'm about to just break; and I mean that in the literal sense. I feel that any day, my bones are just going to shatter and my flesh and skin will just flop into the ground, formless; almost like jelly.

I've been taking in so much work because I really need the money to try and pay all the debts I owe. I've got a lot of debts right now, all stemming from the life I used to lead and the money I used to make, being down-graded to earning less on a monthly basis. I've been able to be practical and have decreased to a degree some of my expenditures but there are some commitments that cannot be so easily dropped -- such as the lease to my condominium. I have to finish the one year contract I signed. At the same time, to be completely honest, I did not cut back on some of my luxuries right away. It all caught up with me.

So I've been jumping from one job to the next; waiting for the day that I can collect all my payments and pay everybody back and just end up in a clean slate. I won't be rich like I would be after all this work, but at least I won't be indebted to anyone at the end of the day; and right now, that will be able to make me get through and sleep better at nights.

And so I jump and jump and I'm just dealing with so many people all at the same time and most of the time, the schedules intersect and over-lap and the desire to be at two places at one time start to spring and you wish that it could happen and that it would be true on your case. You could accomplish so much and that would be great. But that's not the way the world works. You have to work around the rules the universe has given us. I am only one. So I have to work around that.

And so I am thinking heavily about the options that lay before me now. I had to let go of another project that came up because I don't want to spread myself too thin. Already, I am unable to sleep at home -- been sleeping at the office, sleeping on a couch for the past 2 days. I haven't done my laundry and I haven't had time to fill out my moving out form in the condominium. I can't even imagine a day that I can move out of my place. It's horrible.

And while I search for the company of family and friends in which to unload all my anxiety, anger and frustrations and yet I feel that instead of spending my free time with them; I should be saving time to just be alone and think things through. Just to remember what it is like to be me; the real me and not the me that handles problems and the me that has to be creative for a particular purpose. I find myself retreating to fantasy worlds when I'm in transit from one job to the next.

No, I'm not in a good place right now. I'm a mess and people can see it. There is no hiding this kind of inner turmoil. But I have to get things done. Time is not something we can twist and turn to our advantage. Mine is running out.

posted by wanggo @ 5:35 PM 1 comments

a slave to television

Cervantes
Can we ever have too much of a good thing?

One of the reasons why I don't watch television is because if I get hooked on it, that's it. I treat it like a religion. I try my best to never miss it and I seriously follow it.

I remember back in the day when Ally McBeal first came out in Channel 9, before it started showing on cable. I was in college then. It aired at 8pm on Tuesdays. The first season of Ally McBeal was so quirky, off-beat and surreal. I loved it. At the same time, Ally McBeal's problems regarding life and love were dealt with in a way that I understand, in a way that I could relate to. I was hooked.

I remember, every Tuesday, I had to leave La Salle Taft by 6pm to make it home by 8pm. There will be no meeting I would attend and no one was to stop me from making it to my home by Ally McBeal, otherwise I would be really, really cranky and unhelpful. At the time, cell phones weren't even text-capable so it was still pagers. No one was allowed to page me or call me until after Ally McBeal. They wouldn't be entertained.

I was that dead serious in catching every episode.

Later on, I added Buffy the Vampire Slayer to my list. I was so involved in all the pop culture references and the witty dialogue. I have always been a fan of anything related to vampires and though the vampires were sort of weak and lame in Buffy, the world of Darkness that was presented was exciting, energetic and new. And Joss Whedon was a terrific writer with incredible ideas. And yes, the witty banter and Sarah Michelle Gellar were also reasons for my continued viewing.

Afterwards, my interest in television began to wane. I started reading more and more (because of my course which was Literature) and since my instructors and professors were insisting deeply moving and thought-provoking books, I required more intellectually stimulating things from all around me. I got more attracted to movies and what I saw on television no longer engaged me as I grew older. Buffy got better and better but my aunt from the States would send us the taped episodes of the season they just finished in America, one season advanced from what they were showing on any local cable network. There was no need to catch it on television. Then as the seasons progressed, Ally McBeal just started going out of control. What was off-beat and quirky became sordid and unbecoming.

Then of course, Survivor came in and again, I was hooked to something and then Amazing Race. I love those 2 reality shows. Those shows were full of heart, excitement and drama. I was hooked; completely hooked. Other than those 2 shows, I had completely stopped watching television. And when they first came out, it was first released in AXN which had so many replays during the week, I could follow it at my schedule.

I can add a little foot note on how hooked I was on 6 Feet Under as well, I followed every episode of the first season religiously. I found the show to be clever and deep, funny and moving all at the same time. The characters were universal and the themes of life and death were absolutely riveting. Again, during 6 Feet Under no one was to disturb me. I refused contact with the outside world for an hour. Then I missed the final episode of the first season and I never could get back on. It was unbelievable. I had work and had to go out of town for the finale episode and after all that faithful following of the show, I didn't know how it ended. Watching the 2nd season without knowing how the first ended seemed pointless so I never jumped back ship.

When I moved out, seeing as I didn't have much shows to follow, it was never that important to me to get my own television. So, I stopped following Survivor and Amazing Race and can safely say I haven't been watching television for the better part of 2 years. I haven't been watching television for 6 years if you include the exception of Survivor and Amazing Race.

I've been a free man from the boob tube, finding all my intellectual stimulation and entertainment through books, movies and the company of friends.

How ironic considering that for 2 years now, I've been working in the industry I do not patronize. Ha Ha Ha

Now, based on the publicity pictures I get to see due to where I work, my interest has been piqued in regards to GMA 7's latest fantasy soap opera Engkantadia. Aside from fantastic production design, I'm very much interested with their stellar cast.

Iza Calzado is gorgeous and a very good actress. I also personally like her because I find her to be very genuine in an industry where people are not expected to be. We've only been introduced once before but I met her again because of work and though I did not mention that we did meet before (in efforts to not be a burden of her being a celebrity) she recognized me and said hi and made conversation. I was impressed by that. I've been writing for Young Star Magazine for 2 and a half years and have met tons of celebritities but none have ever remembered the writer who interviewed them and wrote about them ever (with an exception of one or two). I didn't even interview Iza and yet she remembered me and was genuinely interested in making conversation with me. She made me feel special and for her to spend time and effort on that is something I will always appreciate her for.

I do not know of Sunshine Dizon's work before I saw her in her digital film Nginig, Yanig, Pintig which was the graduation exercise for the GMA Artist Center Acting Workshop participants but her performance in the movie was amazing. Of all the people in the movie the people that impressed me most were Chynna Ortaleza and Sunshine Dizon. She is exceptional and she looks fierce.

I was supposed to interview Alfred Vargas for Young Star but due to some complications, the interview did not push through but the few words we did exchange showed a passionate and intelligent young man with a lot of promise. He is definitely sexy and the few roles and guestings I have seen him in has proven to me that he is someone to watch out for. He seems like a hard-worker and whenever I come across an article about him in the newspaper or magazine, he answers intelligently and with depth.

I met Karylle during a shoot I did for FanaTXT, a show that we sometimes handle aside from TXTube and she is very accommodating, humble and I know her to be hard-working. She's a good singer and she is beautiful, but not conventionally. I am yet to see her prove herself as an actress but with a little work, she will be a star.

I could go on and on but all my expectations would only be satisfied by watching the show. I've seen the first three episodes of Engkantadia and the show is truly magickal. Oh my God! I was so proud to be a Filipino and so proud to be a part of GMA 7. The effects were more than anything any Filipino film or tv show has ever done and was impressive. The story is engaging and thrilling. I will not deny that there are many elements taken from other fantasy, epic tales that have come before but it does not take away from the magick of Engkantadia. You can see how the show was inspired. The show does not try to rip off, rather adapt and try to make it its own.

The production design is superb. There are four kingdoms in Engkantadia and what is wonderful about the design is that all the kingdoms are designed so differently. They really look like they are separate kingdoms with different cultures. The sets are wonderful and the lighting is fantastic because of it. The colours are rich and the camera shots are so dynamic.

The music is superb. I love the work of Bayang Barrios and her original score for this is heart-pumping, energetic and definitely well thought-out.

There are still moments of dramatic dialogue, but I cannot deny that despite being a fantasy series, it is still a soap opera. Those moments are needed to drag all audiences in.

And I was not at all disappointed by the actors. Karylle is very promising while Sunshine and Iza do wonders for their characters. Dawn Zulueta is amazing and she looks marvellous in every shot. Pen Medina gives us a villain that you will be scared of and adds more credibility to an already promising if not powerful cast.

I hope the show continues to develop and grow because after the first episode, I was already hooked and proud to be a part of a network that can put something like that together.

Well, it looks like I am once again a slave to the boob tube, 5 days a week on primetime...

posted by wanggo @ 3:24 AM 0 comments

things you do before the storm comes

Lisa Marie Presley from Nobody Noticed It (written by Lisa Marie Presley & Cliff Magnes)
You're still lovely
You were lovely then
All that you had to endure
I guess nobody noticed it

Yesterday was a holiday that found me in the empty streets of Makati walking towards work. Despite the fact that I could've spent the day by the pool side at my condo, I was actually pretty happy to be doing some work, escaping the usual traffic (both human and vehicular) and getting things done. If I didn't have this side-project AVP to do, I'd probably have gone to the office here at GMA and did some more work. I wouldn't have known what to do with my time considering I already did some form of relaxing on Sunday.

I started moving out. I brought out a shelf full of books and 5 boxes full of stuff like more books, folders with some documents, all my photo-copied stuff from college and the like. In a couple of days, it would be final and there will be a hiatus in the "independent portion" of my life.

After work yesterday, my friend Maik was at Greenbelt, merely walking distance from where I was doing my editing. So I followed and joined him for coffee, some shopping (he shopped, I was merely company) and then smoked a whole lot of cigarettes. We must've spent 2 to 3 hours talking. It was wonderful.

Maik is one of my close friends, within my circle but mostly, we've really just hung out. I never really had a good opportunity to sit down with Maik and talk. Outside of the club scene, outside the hilarity of being with the whole group and drinking or whatnots, I really got a chance to spend time with him and get to know him. I really love this sort of connection.

We were just talking about everything and since Maik and I are batchmates from college but from different courses and we hung out with different crowds, we were always at the periphery of each other. We kind of know the same people but he knows certain people well that I only hear about and vice-versa. It was fun completing each other's stories and the missing parts. This kind of interaction you really can't get in a club. It's too noisy and there's too many people.

But soon, things will be on their way. I can feel motion within the air; reality is shifting, something stirs and I know there will be a great surge of energy and haste coming up. I know that this relaxing, laid back air will not stay for long. I feel like I'm going to be working my ass off pretty soon. I feel that the work I'm doing for this AVP is going to get around. I've received calls from people, asking me to do work for them, freelance stuff. All these opportunities are coming in. It's going to be a hella lot of stuff to do but I accept it, I embrace it. It's what I wanted.

I want it to happen but I know that things will change. Everything will change. And that's a good thing.

posted by wanggo @ 12:33 PM 0 comments

shattered glass, drinking at 4 in the morning and some-kind of friends...

a text from my Dad
When the talk is good and the feelin gis easy and the laughter is light and the memories are many but the time is too short... then you know you're with a friend.

Right after my shoot yesterday (or early this morning if you want to be exact), at around 3 in the morning, I rushed to Ortigas to meet up with an old friend who got a hotel room because he found no one to go to Boracay with him for the long weekend. I got there at 4am and he had just come back from the city where he dropped off a few friends to a club.

We went up to his room and began finishing what remains of the wine and blendered some gin, pomelo juice and ice. Drinking the spirits quickly, we were fast drunk and talking loudly about bullshit people -- people who have no regard for friendship and propriety. After all, my friend's ex became his ex by sleeping with a friend. Talk about friends, huh?

But things are fine now. My friend had his closure and we were just talking of things in the past tense. We were only agitated by the alcohol and the lack of sleep. We were fast asleep, sometimes punctuating a point while our eyes were closed, hugging the pillows and settling into the soft mattress. With the lights closed except for the one in the doorway, you could have sworn we were asleep except someone would just suddenly speak out an idea that came to mind.

We haven't seen each other in a while so catching up went all the way through half-asleep and a little bit drunk.

Funny to think, on my way there, in the cab, right before we got down on one of the underpasses of Cubao, the windshield of the taxi driver just burst. No stone was thrown, nothing we could see or suppose broke that windshield. It just cracked, fully and we had to stop and we stepped out of the car amidst the many buses and other vehicles honking us in annoyance. We looked around us and found nothing that could have caused the shattering of the windshield glass. It just popped. From the heat? Pressure? I don't know.

I had to walk along EDSA with the cars flashing their lights at me and beeping their horns wondering what the hell was I doing in the middle of EDSA. The purple gate that was put up to stop the cars from changing lanes stopped me from immediately crossing. All of a sudden, I was one of the people I always complain about when I use to drive.

The next taxi I boarded refused to go over 25. I bet I could've gotten to the hotel faster on foot. But I didn't want to rush him. I didn't think his car could handle the speed. It was a weird night, to say the least.

Strange how things are, huh? Fact is always stranger than fiction. That's why I believe everything until proven false. It's just that I've witnessed so many strange things in my life. With the things I've experienced, heard about and read; who can say that we don't live in a magickal world...

posted by wanggo @ 4:32 PM 0 comments

A Change of Scene

Beth Orton from Thinking About Tomorrow (written by Beth Orton, Ted Barnes, Sebastian Steinberg and Sean Reed)
These habits are so hard to break
But they're so easy to make
Thinking about tomorrow
Tired from all the time I spare
On what I still believe in
When none of my talk ever seems to get me anywhere

About two days ago, I met up with Anne, one of my good friends whom I don't see so much of anymore. We used to go out all the time and all our free time was spent together but we progress and grow as people and I've moved on from my old television programs to TXTube and she's gone from commercials to television and now, promoted to a new position back in the world of commercials. I'm very happy for her. But we do see each other less and less now.

But we found an opening in our schedule the other day and we took advantage of it. We used to go clubbing a lot. But we haven't seen each other in a while and we wanted to talk and catch up so we went to Gweilos and had a few beers, listened to a very good band called Spiel and then we talked in-between their sets. It was great, it was fun and relaxing. We could talk and we could hear each other and no one disappeared to go dancing or whatever. The situation just called for us to sit down together and talk and that was wonderful. It was great to just hang out and talk.

I won't deny that I love dancing. If you see me on the dance floor, you know there's nothing in the world I love more than dancing and music. But the club scene has really gotten old for me and I don't find it a good way to spend time with my friends. They're drinking and standing near the bar and I'm on the dance floor. They get drunk and I'm still sober and we can't talk because the music is too loud. It can be fun but I can't really get to interact with them much.

I guess I'm really getting older. I'm appreciating the time spent with people and really just connecting with them. If ever I'm going out to dance, I don't really have to make it such a social occasion like before, because honestly, I don't really get to talk much and establish (or re-establish) connections with people.

My shoot a while ago found me in this bar called Saguijo and it was great. It was rather small and over-crowded but it was nice because people were talking and some of them were seated at the streets because there was no more space in the bar. It was fun just to hang out and talk to people and there were bands playing and the bands were good.

It's a change of scene and I'm enjoying it and I think I'll pursue it. Slowly start acting my age and slowly feeling the pangs of wisdom or what not. It's time to enjoy the company I'm with in a deeper sense, rather than just being glad they are there but really enjoying the fact that they are there by talking to them.

I don't know when I'll see Anne again but I know when I do; I don't want to meet up or end up in some club.

posted by wanggo @ 2:38 AM 0 comments