Indulgence

Flotsam on the Lethe (a borrowed title)

Wallace Stevens
... Everything we say
Of the past is description without place, a cast

Of the imagination, made in sound;

...What we say of the future must portend,
Be alive with its own seemings, seeming to be
Like rubies reddened by rubies reddening.

There's something to be said about life the way we know it and comparing it to life the way it was and then to life the way we want it to be and life the way we imagine it could be. Why does it seem like we are so powerless? Why does it seem like we have no control over what happens to us? I remember a title of a story written by someone in my school org, The Malate Literary Folio. The title of his short fiction was Flotsam on the Lethe. Wonderful title, really. Remnants of some destroyed vessel, floating on the Greek river in Hades where one begins to forget his old life as he enters the realm of the dead.

Isn't that romantic, in some ways? The tendency is to float in this world, struck by wave after wave on the sea of forgetting, slowly forgetting who we are and what we are meant to do.

Sometimes I end up talking with people younger than me and I wonder how they could go through life without any real desire to do something. Some people I've spoken to just want to make money. Their lives are focused outside their realm of work and they make that distinction very clear. I want the line of my life and work to be blurry, to be intersecting and crossing over. I want my work to be a part of my life. What I do in the world is also what I will leave behind. These people who live their lives just wanting to make money and then enjoying themselves after, in the outside realm of their job, they are alien to me. I want what I do to be something I'm proud of.

But here we are, flotsam on the Lethe, submitting to the rigors of the everyday. Allowing ourselves to be thrown from one place to the next and just letting it all push us away from that which we want to do. We were given wings, God damn it! Let's use `em and fly.

posted by wanggo @ 11:39 AM 0 comments

Gratitude

Meister Eckhart
If the only prayer you say in your life is thank you, that would suffice.

I'm thankful for a wonderful Sunday Thanksgiving dinner with family and good family-friends. Despite what I was expecting; I had a marvelous time and allowed myself to get very drunk. We stayed later than we were expecting and we didn't even notice how quickly time had flown. I am very thankful for that evening. It's nice to know that we aren't alone and that there are people that you appreciate for being who they are and vice-versa.

I'm thankful for a wonderful Monday dinner with my family. My Dad, my sister, my brother and their wonderful spouses went to eat at Bellini's for dinner on my treat. I'm very thankful that I could treat them, no hold's barred to great food. I got a bottle of good red wine, a plate of delicious mixed appetizers and a pizza other than their order of pasta and dessert. We stayed up to talk and just enjoy each other's company. I am very thankful for that evening. I'm very happy that my family is close and that we can talk to each other and that we love each other very much and that we can afford to show it.

I'm very thankful that early this morning, I still had some friends up who could accommodate my need to just not have to think about work. I could just hang out and be silly and just laugh. I'm glad some people were still awake to allow me to just melt into the scenery and background. I'm very thankful for that. I'm happy that there are still times and places where I can be stupid.

I'm very thankful that I have good books to read and great music to enjoy. I am grateful that I am constantly inspired by everything that I see, hear, touch and feel; that all things experienced still serves to fuel my desire to be a good writer; that every hurt and moment of happiness, I can use to my advantage; that I can twist the moments to fictional situations. I will always be writing and telling stories. I am thankful for that. I am happy that, in this world, I am someone who creates.We all have something to be thankful for. Never forget to let them be known.

posted by wanggo @ 5:08 PM 4 comments

solitude amongst company

Kate Bush from Sunset (written by Kate Bush)
This is a song of colour

We are sensing in crimson, red and rust
We climb into bed and turn to dust

I was in Batangas for the weekend. I almost didn't make it and yet, I began to work in a rush of activity to try and finish everything I could so that I could leave for Batangas without worry; without fear of being called in. I'm glad I made it.

Unlike my first trip to Batangas with my cousins, this was more a relaxed and a more restful vacation. No snorkeling, no running around, very little zipping action going on, very little swimming. I don't know why. I'm not sure if it's because the weather wasn't cooperating. Maybe the cabanas and shade in La Luz is so comfortable that you would rather just lie down and relax than jump into the water. Maybe it was the immeasurable amount of rum cokes? I think that all of us present had a lot of things to think about. A whole lot of things to think about, for sure. Black clouds were chasing us wherever we went. The roof of the cabana could not keep it out and it hung above us invisible and silent -- forcing us into contemplation, to just staying in one place. Solitude amongst company.

The weather, as I told my friend Anne who was to follow the next day (Sunday) was literally a piss off. The sun would be out and then, in a moment, it would turn overcast, the rains would pour, sending people running for shade and literally, 20 seconds later the sun would be out again. This would happen every 3 hours or so. While it was funny to watch people run back and forth; the sky was a breeding ground for rainbows. Too bad my phone's camera's resolution couldn't handle it -- I couldn't take a picture of one of the longest rainbows I've ever seen. From the horizon line until the sky -- arching the way we draw rainbows as children. It was lovely. Was their gold at the end? Would I have the patience and discipline to search for the end of the rainbow had someone said there was? Do I need to know for certain that there's gold at the end for me to make that journey? I don't think so.


I'm beginning to really love the idea of moving to the seaside. I think little trips like that to the weekend is a fantastic idea. Sometimes, you just need to slip out of your own skin. Shedding out the tired, weary-ness that hangs on you like dirt or like a scar. Just be reborn, when you can't take it anymore. Everyone needs a different way of shouting. Shout out what's inside. And leave your voice there when you return. And let it not fester and dwell in you anymore. Let it go and leave it behind.

posted by wanggo @ 4:40 PM 0 comments

the re-examination of design

J. K. Huysman
I have now learned by experience that the unbelievable is not always, in this word, an exception.

And once again, I am reminded that not all things are what they are appear and that we do not always have all the answers. Sometimes, it is all up to me. It is a position I do not wish to be in, but time and time again, they want me to lead. It is expected of me and I don't know why. I sit by the ledge staring out into the city and wonder why. If time and time again, that is how it has presented itself, why not accept the role? Can I force the world to submit by what I want? Do I have that strength, to wait it out until I get what I want? Or do I join the chaos, this randomness of character and personality; that not all things are chosen and part of submission involves accepting the theory that there may be a grand design to all of this? And if so, what use is all this bravado; this stranglehold I have over the concept that this world is what we make it to be?

I refuse to be powerless over forces much stronger than me. I've always said I'd go fighting. My last action in this world will be one of defiance. How is it that I show myself that people expect me to make demands? How is it that I present myself that people want to follow my lead?

On a better note, two phone calls from my Dad brought a smile on my face, the second came around 3 hours after the first both heralding good news. It's a reason to smile after such a long drought. I drink it all in. There are still somethings I know how to enjoy.

posted by wanggo @ 1:36 AM 0 comments

Atlantis and El Dorado

Chantal Kreviazuk from What If It All Means Something (written by Chantal Kreviazuk and Raine Maida)
It's hard for me to know
Sometimes I feel like letting go
But what if it all means something
(I wanna know)

I turn around and I see nothing there. One is hidden and I cannot reach. The other is fluttering about, sometimes close, sometimes very far. What happens if I decide I don't need this right now. I'm about to make another life decision -- what if all this uncertainty, I decide, to just be rid of it. You may not know me, so you don't know that I deserve better than this. I deserve being on the level. How far do you expect me to go without nothing to ensure me that there will be something there when I arrive? I'm not even sure where I am going. I'm not unaccustommed to go chasing after Atlantis or El Dorado; but when I do, I do this for myself. In this occasion, I'm doing this for you. I don't even know if you're there. I could spend my time doing other things, better things for me.

This is not what I wanted. I might as well be stepping through mirrors. I guess it was my mistake for really wanting it. Well, I can wait for a little bit more. I just hope when next I turn around, something is there behind me. Something I can touch; something I know is real.

(picture taken in Boracay, 2004 by Berna)

posted by wanggo @ 11:09 AM 1 comments

city stories

as texted to me by my Dad
You have to fight and conquer your demons or you will pass them on to your children.

I was born in Bacolod but I was raised in Manila. When I was around 2 years old, my parents moved to the city thus making me the only real Manila-boy amongst my family. I have always felt a connection with the city and for some strange reason, whenever I desperately need a ride, there's a jeep making one last round even if one doesn't usually pass at that hour anymore. I can't seem to get lost in the streets of the city. I can always find my way around. I've been spared (so far) from any sort of violence that you hear about; and considering the times that I keep and the hours I find myself walking in the streets. I've been very, very lucky. May I even dare say that I feel a connection with the city -- that it somehow protects me, watches over me. That may be a very naive way of speaking, but it's true. I feel like I understand it. For the longest time I could never imagine myself ever leaving Manila for a long period of time.

Things are changing. I still love this city; but I'm wanting more from my life. Things are getting a little too... I don't know, routine? I really don't know. It's probably just my state of mind right now. But at the moment, every chance I get, I leave town. This coming weekend, I'm off to Batangas again with my cousins. I've been thinking of moving to the beach for good. I've been dying to go out and travel and even disappear from here for years. I'm scared of becoming static and I fear that is where I am.

All the stories I want to tell are here in my head. It's here and it won't go away. It just needs the time for me to write it. It's time that I don't seem to have much of. All these things that I want to write and I can't write `em. Ever felt like you wanted to explode? I feel that now. I want to explode and in the glory of the combustion, words just start flying out of me. It would be a mixture of sound, language and the written word.

But this is just a side-note. It's not what I really want to say. There's something else and I cannot say it. I am kept silent by my respect for some people. There is more that I want to say but I keep silent because I respect the privacy of the people involved.

Until then, I'll keep thinking about other things until all is sorted out.

(pictures taken by Jaypee sometime last year)

posted by wanggo @ 1:08 AM 1 comments

out at sea

Kate Bush from Nocturn (written by Kate Bush)
We stare out into the Atlantic
We become panoramic

I find it hard to be out at sea during a storm. The waves are so high, you don't know whether you are up in the air or heading down into the waters. It's so dark and the rain so strong, you can't see beyond the reach of your hands. You yell as loud as you can but you are never sure whether you are heard. The strongest sound is that of the thunder and the rain. You're dizzy and at one point, you just want to get out but you don't know how.

All it really takes is for me to make a decision. It's up to me to stop talking and to make a decision. My friend Berna has told me, Wangs, you're not happy anymore. Those words, coming from her, was like a hammer to my head. What the hell? I feel like part of the scenery. There is a machine quality to all of this. This. I know what this is but I can't say it. It's an old problem, an old recurring problem. But now I know. I've defined it properly and it makes sense. My Dad said I was right about it. It's just making that decision. I need courage. I need strength. I need... I'm not sure what I need. These moments should begin with it would be nice... There's one person who knows what that means, right Cholo? He He He That's something between us. He knows what I'm looking for right this very moment as I'm writing this. It would be nice refers to something. I've almost got it, but, as usual it's complicated. (picture of Berns and me in Palawan, June 2005 taken by Pabsy or Rica)

You can never really master the sea. You can learn to sail on it but you can never control it. It's overwhelming, it's powerful, it's vast and is of dual-nature: calm, serene, peaceful and dangerous, frightening and powerful. You can never expect the same voyage twice on it. You just do the best you can.

I went to the birthday party of my friend Jojo in Government. I met the old gang and got to see some people there that I haven't seen in a long time. I was able to dance a bit and touched the darkness again briefly. I didn't want to but I found no reason to not go there. I got myself out again but I was there. It was scary. No, not now. Not like this. Not when everything is up in the air or now that I'm lost at sea. That was a mistake on my part; an error in judgement. It's a show of my current vulnerable and weakened state. I have to wait `till I'm stronger before I even consider going to the darkness again.

I've got to get my ship to dock on some port. I've been sailing for far too long and it's been bad weather for a while now.


(picture -- me, Ginny and Jojo sometime last year in Punta Fuego, taken by Jaypee)

posted by wanggo @ 3:32 PM 2 comments

loosening grip

Oscar Wilde
Only the shallow know themselves.

While I'm writing this, a friend of mine is telling me he's dropping everything to go to the province and start from scratch. I told him how jealous, envious I was of his courage. He replied saying it's not courage, it's just that there's no reason for me not to. Well, I'm thinking that there's no reason for anyone not to just gather their things and start again. There's no reason that I can think of that will force us to stay in one place. Whatever those reasons are, they will always be attributed to a sense of sentimentality or nostalgia. Those feelings should be reactions; they are brought about as a reaction to something. But it shouldn't be a cause for inaction. That's how nostalgia and sentimentality become dangerous.

But then again, we stay because we put so much meaning and value to things that we cannot leave behind or give up. We attach ourselves to things and that's a dangerous thing. We have to learn to just let go, the proverbial cliche as it is. Whatever holds us to any given situation or thing is merely a feeling. Your proximity to the attachment doesn't exactly increase your affections for it. No matter where you are in the world, no matter how long ago it has been since that event -- you love something for what it was when you did. That never changes. You may have different feelings of it over time, but what matters is the knowledge that you did love it at one particular time. That never disappears or loses value.

I was chatting with my friend Morx and he shared with me a new poem of his and it was gorgeous. The poem was absolutely gorgeous and it was about this same topic. The poem had said, so eloquently, how all things fade and we hold on to it. The act of holding on is not so much as giving something up but giving in to the actuality that all things fade. It's a lovely poem.

It made me think about how tightly I hold on to things and how badly I let things go. There is, should be, more grace in the act of loosening your grip and slowly parting from that which you hold so dear.

So what is this all about, really? Since not everything should be taken for what it is? Maybe I'm starting to let go of something I should've let go a long time ago. Sentimentality and attachment is leading me to inaction. And that's not where I want to be. Just know that I loved something once and I did my best. But when it's time to go, it's time to go.

(picture taken 2004, from Queenie's phone -- Queenie, me and Jaypee; sometimes I put too much attachments on things that I should have let go along time prior but it was fun and you needed it at the time)

posted by wanggo @ 12:11 AM 1 comments

I ain't seeing her in heaven

texted to me by my Dad
Life is a dance, we learn as we go. Sometimes we lead, sometimes we follow. Don't worry about what we don't know. What's important is we learn as we go.

I've been growing my hair since February now. It was a decision to do as my Dad has adviced. I would like to say that I always followed my Dad's advice but that would be a lie; that is not the case at all. And most of the time, I think things would've been much better for me had I followed his advice. But that's the way the cookie crumbles, you know? I'm the kind of person who has to make that mistake to learn from it. This was just my hair so I thought it didn't have much life consequences should I decide not to grow it for him.

He's been asking me to grow it since I was 16 and I refused. Fast-forward 10 years later and I'm finally sick and tired of short hair. I wanted to feel different and look different so I start growing my hair. My hair is now a product of having not gone to a stylist or a barber since February. What's that? 10 months? At first, I hated it. Now, I kinda like it. I like the choatic randomness it presents itself when I wake up. I like it that it's not a fixed thing, even with gel or wax or whatever I put on my hair. After an hour or two, it does not look the same as when I first fixed it up. My Dad calls it my "artist's hair." I just think it's great that when I bang my head dancing or just feeling the rock music, something up there moves along with it, you know?

For my cousin's wedding, I went to Vertu, a salon in Bacolod. I was with my brother, Jubal, who has long hair as well and we both needed to have it styled for the wedding. As usual, I left it to the lady to do it. I just told her I was going to a wedding, play with it, make it presentable for a wedding. She straightened my hair. At first, I was really scared at how it looked. I liked it but I was afraid that it made me look... I don't know... too pop? Gay? Too much like Hero Angeles? I wasn't sure. So I went to my Dad for advice and stuff and he said I looked great. He liked it. So I got comfortable with it and sported it happily.

My grandmother hated it, though. I saw her coming down from her car and I ran to her to help her and say hi and she took one look at me and said "you're not going to the wedding with that hair are you?" I laughed and thought to myself oh no! she hates it... And I made a joke about just letting the stylist play with it and she did and she said it's horrible! I smiled and helped her into the church and quickly made my exit.

During the family picture taking at the church, my Grandmother said it aloud for everyone to hear. She said I looked terrible, then again at the reception. I was beginning to lose my temper and I really wanted to fight back. My brother was telling me to just let it go. I couldn't. I've always tried my best to be someone my Grandmother could be proud of but for the simplest things in the world -- I don't go to church every Sunday, I am now sporting this hair or for whatever simple reason, she doesn't like me. She doesn't care that I'm basically, generally a good person and that I work hard and that I'm doing all I can to help my family. She doesn't care about those things, apparently.

I remember a few years back, my parents asked me to pick her up from the airport. She was going to live with us for a few days because she had an event she had to attend here in Manila. So off I went to fetch her at the airport and we were talking. I was telling her about my experiences teaching (I think I was teaching at that time) and she was telling me how there was no more emphasis on Geography anymore. Then we had quieted down and then she said, Wanggo, I don't know why I'm even getting to know you since I won't see you in Heaven. I just looked at her and I just couldn't think of anything to say. She thinks I'm a God-less person. My family laughs at that and says she was probably joking or something. But I was there, looking at her and she was sitting at the back seat, looking straight at me with some form of... I don't know... indignation? Self-righteous glory? Pity?

I decided to keep quiet. What would be the point in trying to impress her, make her like me for the person I turned out to be? After all, she won't see me when she's in Heaven. Hell, I'd probably sport the same kind of hair that pissed her off; she probably wouldn't want to see me anyway.

Before, I was sad, during the wedding I was pissed off. Now, I don't feel anything. I'm not going to see her when she's in Heaven anyway...

posted by wanggo @ 5:08 AM 2 comments

homecoming

Jacques Barzun
Folly concludes that, all in all, the greater the madness, the greater the happiness.

I find myself home and I look out at the sky and I shudder to think what is waiting for me in the moments that will pass. It took me 15 minutes to get from my house in Bacolod to the airport. I arrive and it takes me 2 hours to get from the airport to my house. The traffic was horrible. My mood began to wane. And then, the family I had texted at the airport waiting area had begun to reply -- telling me how they feel, glad for my visit and that they I am so very welcomed for the gratitude I expressed for the wonderful vacation that I had. Does it balance out everything at the end of the day? I don't know. It hasn't ended yet.

I've begun to think about the differences between the city and the country; and in turn, I've begun to see the difference of myself in the city and myself in the country. Somehow, I am not fully satisfied with either and once again, I'm thinking of finding the balance between the two.

It's back to everything I left behind. It's back to the grind, the clockwork, the pressure and the squeeze. It's not necessarily a bad thing. But too much of anything is not always good. But I'm back and I'm ready for it. I'm ready for it; my eyes are open and my body is rested.

Here's a picture of the city from my window as I get home beside a picture of the beach in Bacolod. Lately, I've been very fascinated with the sky and the clouds. I had wanted to talk about this before but never really got to. Lately, for no particular reason, I've been seeing shapes in clouds again -- dolphins, castles, dancers, hands, waves, among other things. Magick has returned into my life again, very subtly. Before, clouds were just clouds and I would only look at them to gauge the weather. But about 3 or 4 weeks ago, something happened, and I would look up at the air and see castles and giants, dogs and cats, landing pads and flowers. Life is filled with symbols, I've always known that but to have them in the form of clouds, just hovering above our heads, just hanging up there gives me a sense of calm and peace. It means I haven't lost it. As tired and jaded and cynical as I might have become, a cloud is not just a cloud to me and that's a good thing. It's a very good thing.

posted by wanggo @ 5:41 PM 0 comments

the end of the 4-day cigarette break

Thomas Szaz
When a person can no longer laugh at himself, it is time for others to laugh at him.

I'm here in Bacolod and I've had a wonderful time. I'll be leaving for Manila in a few hours and my Bacolod visit is almost at its end. I had a wonderful time here and more importantly, I've been able to coalesce, pretty much and spend time with my family. I've been able to rest, catch up on my sleep, fix my body clock, eat well and see my family and get to spend time with them.

I had attended my cousin's wedding, which was beautiful. I spent a lovely time talking to my sister and my brother and my mom. I got to see my aunts and uncles and my cousins. We drank and ate and talked. We went to the farm and then to the beach. I got to play with my nephews and my niece.

And now, I have to leave this safe, little place that I found where everthing is just nice and quiet and peaceful. Here, I can think, and someone tells me what to do and where to go. Here, I was able to just get back together and not have to think so hard over anything. Here, I submitted my consciousness and found some sort of peace.

But it never lasts and things are going to go back to normal and I'm only using this moment to get better; to gain enough momentum and strength to go through my day-to-day again. I've been to a place where all is great and safe and restful but I know that it was so because I'm only here for a while. I don't think I could live here and truly be happy here because the world here is too slow, too safe, too peaceful. It's a great place to come back together but not a place for me to live out my life. I'm happy to be with my family; people I love but I still have to be in the open sky where I can spread my mighty wings and fly.

And so it's all over now. It's time to prepare and go back to the city, back to my life and the work that waits for me. It's time to get back to the real world. But I've got a head start again. I've got a second wind, some R&R, some time for myself. We need this moments, they're our weapons against the ravages of pressure and stress and disappointments. I welcome them every chance I get.

I'm ready again.

posted by wanggo @ 9:23 AM 0 comments

2 hours till take off

from a text from my Dad
Nobody dies a virgin. Life fucks everybody.

I've got 30 minutes to kill before I have to start preparing. I'm going to be flying off to Bacolod in about 2 hours and all I can think of is letting out a really long, hard breath. Life has been horribly tough on me the past few days and I haven't really been the most hit the ground running kind of guy. I've been very distracted. I've not really been myself, as of late. It's gonna have to change soon, otherwise, I'm going to snap.

It took a while before my brother realised I wanted to use the computer. So I was sitting around just listening to some good music and waiting. There were 2 people I really wanted to see before I left but both were not available, to my utter dismay and I felt every second tick.

I don't really like flying. I can't stand the air pressure's effect on the ears. Otherwise, it would be great but, lately, I've no patience for it. So I stay awake before a flight and then, the moment I sit down, I try to fall asleep before take off, that way, I'll just wake up and I'm down and I didn't have to go through that discomfort. I remember my flight to Italy, though, back in 1998 where it was impossible to sleep due to the excitement of being in a foreign country. It was a very long flight, though, eventually I did fall asleep but I stayed up as long as I could. Like Poe sang in her song That Day, "The anticipation was a turn on."

Now I'm taking a break from my life to just be with family. Already, my whole stay has been planned and I don't mind. I want all responsibility and decisions taken away from me. I just want to follow the leader. I just want to be pulled, tugged and shoved. I just want someone to take charge of me for a while. So as much as wanting to sit back and relax; if they say jump, I'll reply with where?

I've got a very strong personality but the truth is, I'm not a leader. I'm not a take charge kind of person. I just want to do what I want (which is to write, make films, create and travel) and everything else, depends on what people want from me (depending on the people, though). It would be great for someone to just lead, you know? Right now, that would be bliss. I know I wouldn't like it for long. My need for independence and my hold on my individuality would resist; but at the moment, it's what I need. It would be nice for someone to take the weight off my shoulders. It would be nice.

posted by wanggo @ 3:07 AM 0 comments

full moon

Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel from The Only Living Boy In New York (written by Paul Simon)
Half of the time we're gone but we don't know where and we don't know when

Hey I got nothing to do today but smile

I was having a really, really bad day. It was like Murphy just took a dump in my backyard and there was nothing I could use to take it out except my hands. Then, I decided that since the day was already bad and I was already in trouble; there'd be no point in making things worse for myself.

There was a breakdown in communication somewhere and I have Mars to blame because, once again, it decided to go into retrograde. I promise you, if I become insanely rich, I'm going to blow Mars out of the sky. Let that be the Astrologer's problem as to how to tell a person's personality now but if that planet goes into retrograde again, after I get rich, I swear, it's gone. And, at the same time, I'm just completely and utterly overwhelmed at work and I just want to die.

But I met up with Cholo again and talking to him allowed me to laugh at the situation that I had found myself in and got some stuff off my chest. It was a lovely evening and a full moon at that, after all. So I was able to just breathe and relax and for a moment, forget that there were things that needed doing.

And then, all of a sudden, in the course of a very strange evening, I tripped. There was a shiver that ran down my spine and I just began to smile. I missed that feeling. It was so... I don't know... it was what I needed. And I was just talking about it with Cholo a few hours prior. I remember what I told him. I said, right now, it would be nice. And it was; and maybe it will be. I'm not hoping. But it was nice.

These full moon nights are really, really something, huh? I'm always wary of them because if you aren't careful, it will take you for a loop! But then again, vertigo is fun every so often. It's really all about learning to submit and then taking the opportunities as they arise. Full moon indeed!

(picture taken by Jay Abello, 2003)

posted by wanggo @ 6:14 AM 1 comments

love-hate relationship with the city

John Cleese
It's not the despair I can't stand, it's the hope.

My body clock is all screwed up again. I can't seem to fix it. So much work has to be done that if I find myself stretching my waking hours in hopes to sleep at the proper time, I end up staying awake until the wee hours of the night and then falling asleep in the morning again, ruining everything. Lately, I find myself unable to sleep before the sun rises. Sometimes, I get lucky enough to sleep before midnight but I wake up at around 2 or 3 in the morning and unable to sleep again. That's worse. I'm beginning to get exhausted by all this.


Lately, I've found myself taking pictures of the city during sunset or sunrise. Well, it's more like taking pictures of the skyline. During these hours, the city starts to change. It's all a play of light and the colours are so amazing; the pinks, the magentas, the blues. During the sunrise, everything has a sleepy, dreamy look. During the sunsets, the city gains a a vibrancy as the lights begin to go on. It still amazes me and takes my breath away but I'm beginning to feel the cost. I'm beginning to feel what it means to be a city person. To live in it, you must devote your time to it; you must be a part of it, really, if you want to exist in it. It takes your time -- time you wish you could do for other things.

No wonder most writers I know have to leave to write their book. They have to go somewhere else, somewhere less distracting. A few of the great writers I know who teach to make a living wish they could do it somewhere more tranquil. I've always said that I was a city-boy through and through and that the stories I want to write are about the city and what goes on in it. But right now, as it is, I have no time to write. That has a lot to do, I think, with my longing to live by the beach, away from the city. I just want to write again.

posted by wanggo @ 5:55 PM 0 comments

Merry Christmas

from my Dad
Patience is not the ability to wait but the ability to keep a good attitude while waiting.

I just finished helping my brother and sister-in-law set up the Christmas tree and the Christmas lights in the house. It was great fun to do. I remember, growing up, I'd just wake up and all the Christmas decorations would be all set already or the maids would be half-way done. It was an immediate Christmas wonderland. As time went by and more and more of the family started going their separate ways, we would not be so enthusiastic putting up the decorations. After all, Christmas was about family and we were apart. But then, the help wanted to feel the spirit of Christmas and so they'd put it up anyway.

Of course, things are different now. Here, it's just my brother, his wife and me. Yeah, they've got help and all but this is our house and I'm guessing it's important to do the first set of Christmas decorations ourselves. Kristi and I set up the tree and then I put up the lights with direction from my brother. And then all three of us put the trimmings. We decided that there were too little lights. It could use more lights but we're very happy with what we've got. We played Christmas music and all of a sudden we were singing along and just smiling and getting all giddy and excited. I wanted to go out and buy Christmas gifts so I could put something under the tree for it.

I've got it now, the Christmas spirit. I want to go shopping and get gifts for people. I want to buy a nice green shirt for the holidays. I told my Dad, since we're practically going to be complete during Christmas, we should start thinking up of our menu for Christmas Eve dinner which we always celebrate. I want to just smile all the time now. I can wait for my brother to get the new lights and for me to go shopping for big candles and wreathes for the house. I want to see the tree on phase 2. Merry Christmas, y'all.

posted by wanggo @ 12:21 AM 0 comments

i've got a secret

Bjork from Joga (written by Bjork)
You don't have to speak, I feel
Emotional landscapes

I've got a smile on my face. I'm not telling anyone why...

(picture taken by Morx with his P800 phone, sometime November-December, 2003)

posted by wanggo @ 3:40 AM 0 comments

another Fluxxe night

Christelle Mariano
Constancy is relative; what seems to have disappeared once may be, after all, a wave returning to the shore.

I went to Manila DJ Club last night, to be with my friend Raab during his birthday celebration. Again, it was a Fluxxe night and it was anything goes and for sure, it was anything goes! The music was much more eclectic than the first time I went with things changing tempo almost after every song. So there was a lot more opportunities to step out and talk with some friends who I got to see -- Karla and Pat, my editors from my freelance writing days with Youngstar Magazine. I also got to talking with Raab. I danced wildly and drank a couple. It was fun. I just wished the music wasn't so conflicting. But everyone else seemed to be appreciating it. So, alright...

I got home at around 5am (Raab insisted that I can't leave until he does) and, well, he stayed for a pretty long time.

I got home and saw a lovely magenta sky heralding the coming of the morning. Then I knew it was my time to go to sleep. Later in the day, I'd have to go back to work and, well... work. But that's my life these days and I'm glad for these random moments of being able to just have fun. I can feel my spirits rising again and after all this time, wondering for whatever reason that it may be, I guess it was just another mood shift.

I'm just gonna finish some stuff and then I'm off to bed as well...

posted by wanggo @ 9:50 PM 0 comments

Christmast just around the corner

Augustine
It is yearning that makes the heart deep.

I can hear Christmas songs on the radio, in restaurants and in the mall. Can't believe that in less than 2 months, Christmas is going to be here already. A very good astrology site, one that makes sense and has predicted well enough the coming and goings of my days has said that mercury will be in retrograde again from the 14th of November until December 3 and that I shouldn't buy anything until then. No Christmas shopping for me until after December 3, I guess. That sucks. Not that I'm much of a gift giver; what with my financial state and all. I used to be, back when I was a kid. I was not a spender at all, given to holding my money for a rainy day and not one to buy toys or snacks or anything. I did; but never to an extent where I didn't have money. Come Christmas time, I always had a gift for everyone.

That was until I was 14. I then got a job writing for comics and became a really rich teen-ager. Then I started becoming a spender. My extravagant nature has come out and I've begun treating friends to whatever, you know? I had money to burn. I would treat my brothers to stuff. Since that time, I stopped learning to save, silly me! Everyday was a rainy day and money, for me, is meant to be used for my happiness now. Suffice to say, I had a hard time trying to save because, well, there's always a little something you just want to get and everything costs something these days. When the job disappeared and I continued working for an internet magazine through college; the money just wasn't enough for me. By Christmas time, there wasn't enough for me to get anyone a gift.

So my days as a gift-giver for Christmas has ended. I feel really horrible about that. I like giving things to people. But truth is, I like giving things to people when they don't expect it. I love the thrill in their eyes when they I hand them a paper bag or a box and say, Hey, this is for you. The shocked look on their faces and then the question, what for?

For being you. I just wanted to, you know?

It's so much sweeter; especially since it wasn't expected. Well, that's me anyway. But there's also that special feeling of exchanging gifts with someone on Christmas that I really, really miss. I'm hoping that I learn to save or manage my money just a little better so that I can once again be part of the festivities.

Christmas is around the corner. The days are getting colder. I'm just waiting for the Christmas cheer to sink in.

picture -- Sansan and me, Christmas party at the Clemente's in 2003, I think? Picture taken by Lelei.

posted by wanggo @ 2:59 PM 0 comments

a hump on the road

Goethe
"In the beginning was not the Word, but the Act." The Word - an abstraction - comes after.

I think about the times when I used to have all the time in the world, struggling, trying to be this "freelance writer" and working so hard sending my writing samples to all these publications hoping to get regular writing stints with all these magazines and whatever would need the services of a writer and not making enough. I spent a lot of time at home, waiting for a reply. None came except for the regular articles that Youngstar magazine wanted from me. They were my source of income but one magazine is not enough to support you no matter how many articles you wrote for them. It paid for my cell phone bill and some cigarettes. That was about it.
And all that time, while waiting for some sign of further employment, I could've written anything I wanted. Worked on a novel or something and I never did anything. I could've written so many scripts at the time.

Now, I just want to write and write and write -- short stories, essays, poems, songs, scripts, everything but find myself without the time to do it. It's funny how the world turns over its head sometimes. Everything goes upsidedown. Nobody ever really teaches you how to handle things when they go upsidedown, do they?

I guess I wasn't ready or wise enough or knew enough to write what I wanted to then. Now, it seems I have so much more responsibility that I can't just drop everything to write; even though I feel mentally and emotionally prepared to write the things I should have before.



It's just a bump in the road. Sorry, a thought that landed in my head, on with the rest of the story...

posted by wanggo @ 9:26 PM 0 comments

this is the desk that wanggo did not build

Michael Ignatieff from The Need of Strangers
Many of the things we need most deeply in life -- love chief among them -- do not necessarily bring us happiness. If we need them, it is to go to the depth of our being, to learn as much of ourselves as we can stand, to be reconciled to what we find in ourselves and in those around us.

This is what my desk in the office looks like. I was chatting with my friend Daniel from Denmark and we chat often, making the waiting period between scripts and edits a little easier to take. Or, while I'm writing a script, keeps me distracted enough not to get into a writer's block (sounds funny, right? I'll talk more about that some other time). Daniel asked me what my work area looked like. So I took some pictures to show him the messy little area around my computer.


The computer on the left, behind the piano, that's mine. The CPU is under the table so my lovely flat screen monitor and the keyboard should be the only thing on my desk. But that is not to be. We try our best to recycle paper in the office; every little gesture helps, for the environment's sake. So dumped on both sides of the monitor are stacks of photocopies of my scripts that are already used. Instead of printing on new paper, I usually pick up one of these and print on that side. Unfortunately, for studio shoots, we need a copy of the script for everyone involved, so one old script is recycled by printing the new script on the back. Then either I or the production assistant, Will, in this case, makes 4 or 5 photocopies for the shoot. At the end of the shoot, our executive Producer, in this case, Berna, reminds us not to throw the paper away. To bring it back in the office and use it as scratch. So the paper on my desk just keeps piling and piling up.


On top of the stacks of paper to the right of my monitor is a bag I got for Christmas from the host of the show I was working on last year. I use it to put toiletries. There, I have a toothbrush, toothpaste, soap and shampoo (just in case I have to overnight), toilet paper and alcohol. On the left, I put my mom's Christmas gift, a shawl to keep me warm when it gets too cold. I love my mom dearly but I would never wear a shawl. On any normal circumstance, I would never wear a shawl. But at the office, I'm sort of a zany, wacky, free-spirit (or I would like to think so); so people poke fun at me often and I don't mind. I say and do crazy things sometimes, just for a laugh, so I thought, I could leave my shawl in the office. If it gets too cold, or if I find myself suddenly having to overnight at the office, I could use the shawl to keep me warm. It may look a little off, but then, who cares? I'm a zany, wacky, free-spirited guy anyway. My notebook is on the table as well, that green and purple thing. On my CPU, the red squarish thing you see, is an envelope I got from what of my shoots. It contained press material and information regarding the shoot I had. I don't remember anymore where I got it. Most of the press material has been recycled and has a script written on its opposite side. I keep the envelope on my CPU because I might have need of it sometime. In front my CPU is my bag that I bring everyday. Beside my monitor is the free mug I got from Tower Records for having bought a dozen CDs. Unfortunately, it's pink.

I'm not a very tidy guy, as you can tell. But it's what I call an organized mess. No matter how chaotic it seems, I can find whatever I need within a minute. I just know where they all are. Someone cleans it up? I go nuts. It's just the way I am. I do my best. At least, it's not the type that it becomes a breeding ground for mice or cockroaches. I never get that messy.

posted by wanggo @ 4:50 PM 0 comments

a patch of sky

Fiona Apple from Never Is a Promise (written by Fiona Apple)
You'll say, Don't fear your dreams, it's easier than it seems
You'll say you'd never let me fall from hopes so high
But never is a promise and you can't afford to lie

I've been out of whack again. Thoughts are flying through me at 130 kmh and it's caused by lack of sleep, this unbelievable desire to write and not having the time to write it, getting excited over going to Bacolod and having horrible, horrible digestion these past few days. What does my stomach want from me? Should I just go and get my self an enema? I've been suffering and it isn't funny anymore.

Was having problems sleeping last night. Well, truth be told, I got some sleep then I woke up and then I couldn't get back to sleep. Another sun rise that found me awake and over a cup of coffee and a cigarette, Pacific Islands music breaking the silence, I looked out at the window and saw a gloomy, cloudy day except a large patch of sky that fought for it's space and the sun shone over Ortigas and I took a picture of it. Sometimes I hate this city so much and then, sometimes, it is a gorgeous thing. Yeah, life is hard, sometimes. But sometimes, it's just a matter of when you decide to look.


Some new ideas have begun to stir in my head. I'm thinking of how to get these ideas realised. Despite everything, I'm hopeful. I'm charging up. I'm ready to explode. I'm just biding my time and planting the seeds to all that I'm hoping to harvest. It's just a matter of time, hard work and a lot of patience.

posted by wanggo @ 8:39 AM 1 comments

dreaming of the beach during the cold season

Jelaluddin Rumi from Solomon to Sheba (translated by Coleman Barks)
Tell her this refusal of her gift
of gold is better than acceptance,

because with it she can learn what we value.

Just got back from zips training today. It's been almost 2 weeks since I last went to zips training. My last time zipping was in the beach at Laiya. After that, I've just been at work and then getting home to sleep. Other times, I'd be meeting up with old friends; catching up. After all, it's nearing Christmas and we've got to put some order and visibility to my social life. I'm not a machine, I'm not a robot. I cannot live with work and reading alone.

Finished Rice by Su Tong last night. Not a very nice story, exquisite prose, though. Very precise, very detailed, very quick. I'm not used to prose that sharp and that made the book enjoyable but the story needs more to be desired. With 2 more books to go, all I have to do now is focus on the writing that I have to get done. I wrote a draft of a poem the other day but I'm very unhappy with it. So I'm not even considering that as part of my quota. I still have to work on a new piece.

All this reading and zipping has brought my thoughts back to the beach. I am really toying with the idea of leaving the city altogether and living by the beach, maybe in Batangas. Just let everything go and submit myself to the beauty and the serenity of the ocean. Waking up every morning to a hot sun, sand and the surf. The gentle music of the waves always within earshot. Fresh sea food and, in my fantasy, fresh fruits and vegetables from a forest nearby.
(me, cathy, jay, chrissie in bora, 2003; picture taken by Jezer)

I went to Tower Records to find that African CD that I heard the other day and after going through 5 Putumayo CDs on African music and 1 Narada CD on African Voices, I finally asked customer service for the list. The lady went to the office and took out a list of 4 CDs that they had lent to the administration of Shangri-La and to my surprise, the CD was not at all African chanting as I had thought, but the chants and music of the South Pacific Islands. The CD I was talking about was Putumayo Presents South Pacific Islands and it's so gorgeous! I still love African music but I also love the music of the South Pacific Islands -- the music of the Maori, New Caledonia, Samoa and, considered culturally Hawaii. I love the Hawaian music in Lilo & Stitch and dance to it often. So I bought the CD and it's bringing me back to the beach again. (cathy, chrissie, peach and me in bora, 2003)

The only thing in my mind now is the beach. Going to Bacolod for my cousin's wedding and then, on that weekend, my cousin's and I will be going to the beach for the weekend. The weekend after that, I'll be going to Batangas again with my cousin's here in Manila to enjoy the allure of La Luz. Afterwards, I'll just be thinking about New Year's; I'm planning to go to Boracay then. I'll be in heaven. I've been complaining that I didn't get out of town this whole year except for work when I went to Palawan and Quezon. It seems I'm making up for lost time now.

posted by wanggo @ 5:15 PM 0 comments

African Chants

Oscar Wilde from The Picture of Dorian Gray
The aim of life is self-development. To realise one's nature perfectly -- that is what each of us is here for.

Yesterday, I went to Shangri-La to meet up with my good friend Cathy whom I haven't seen in months. We chose to eat at Dome since we always eat or drink coffee there. And we caught up with what has transpired in the months that we were not in communication. We talked for 2 and a half hours while we ate dinner and had dessert and smoked. It was good to be in her company again. It was nice to see her growing as a person. I missed her a lot.

When we had kissed each other good-bye, we separated ways, I passed by Krokodile Grill and I saw Jaypee waving at me. He had come to see old friends as well and we haven't seen each other for almost 4 weeks. Hurriedly, we walked up to each other and hugged. How are you's and how have you been's were quickly exchanged. We began to talk and tried to catch up on what was missing on what we knew of each other for the 3 weeks since last we spoke. He learned I was voraciously reading and that I had just finished The Picture of Dorian Gray and leant me Su Tong's Rice. I started reading it last night and after 200 pages (the prose is simple yet precise), went to sleep. I find the book rather extreme in its portrayal of brutality and desperation. There is no rise or fall in character -- everyone is just debased and vicious and cruel. I found it one-dimensional and so, while rather interesting, could not rise to the level of a really moving story. It was just an exercise of these horrid acts of malice. It could have been more interesting if it were more steeped into characters morally torn apart by their own desperation and sinking unwillingly into the abyss of the human soul. It lacked that grit. But it is interesting since the story is set in China in the 1930s. I'm seeing a different view of the world and that's always good.
The hours I spent in the Shangri-La promenade (is it a promenade?) was filled with laughter and good company. What made it even special was that the whole time, the speaker systems were playing these gorgeous African songs with African chanting, which I absolutely loved. These songs on a gentle drum beat, a guitar strumming and some keyboards were just a backdrop to the gorgeous African choir singing of themes I no nothing about. All I know is that it was beautiful and moving and I had to have it. So I asked the waiter which restaurant or stall had control of the sound system and he told me that it was with the administration. I asked him if he could find out what was the title of the CD.

I continued to nurse my 1 beer (I didn't really want to drink last night) and bided my time. I had a head ache and I wanted to go home and sleep. But then, I haven't seen Jaypee in a long time and I was enjoying the company and I was told that they didn't know what CD it was. They have to wait until the CD had stopped so they can take it out.

Wait I did as I moved on to my 2nd beer of the night and more stories and what if situations; just having fun and talking. The songs were just getting better and better. It was a fucking good CD and I was getting very antsy. I wanted it. I wanted it badly and I was thinking of turning violent or storming into the Admin office and demanding to know what it was called. My head ache turned worse.

Finally, the CD ended and there was a long pause. I spoke to the Security Guard who was walking around to use his communication device to ask what the CD was. He spoke to a little microphone and then told me that it was a 4-CD Sound System and they couldn't just open it. I replied hastily, but there's no music playing! They might as well open it now. So he spoke again into his little microphone and he had this smile on his face thinking Boy, this guy has a real hard on for African songs!

I waited with bated breath. I had to know. He then turned to me, put a finger to his left ear where the ear piece was located and then smiled and said that the CD was just a compilation that they got from Tower Records. Damn! Double damn! I've been to Tower several times looking for African chanting, like the added songs from The Lion King, the Broadway musical version (not the cartoon). I love African chants. All I saw at Tower Records at the World music section was the Putomayo African children songs. It wasn't what I was looking for.

When I have free time, I'm going back to Tower Records and asking them for all their African chanting CDs, going through each one in the listening station and finding that collection. It was beautiful. I loved each song. I just love African chanting music. Any suggestions for good African chanting music?

** Picture with group taken by Jaypee -- me, Jaypee, Ayet and Anne walking around Manila, sometime in 2004
** Picture of me pretending to be angry taken in a webcam in an internet cafe in Malate sometime in 2004

posted by wanggo @ 4:09 PM 0 comments

letting the days go by

Billie Myers from Am I Here Yet? (Return to Sender) (written by David Tyson and Billie Myers)
Straight ahead isn't always forward

I watched Tony Scott's Domino yesterday with Berna. Had a great time. Loved the violence, loved the vulgarity and I certainly love the direction. I like the fast cuts, highly enhanced colours, fast pacing, repetition of sound and the music. It was a visual and aural treat and watching Keira Knightley kick-ass was really cool. I'm beginning to disfavour women in movies who are tougher than the men, unless of course they are the leads, then that's fine; but lately, I'm missing the women who can just hold out on their own, equally. Rachel Weisz in The Mummy or Runaway Jury is the best example I can think up of on the fly of a girl who can hold out on her own without stealing the show. Michelle Yeoh in that James Bond film Tomorrow Never Dies was cool and all, but hey! It's a James Bond film, he should be cooler. He is Mr. 007 after all, you know?

But in Domino, I like the whole tough chick persona of Keira Knightley's character. Considering also that it is based on a true story (how much is fiction and how much is fact is up to you; there are certain things that are over the top, but I like how it builds up that at the point it get's unrealistic, you're already at a point that you can accept anything), it kind of prepares you for whatever you're going to experience. And I like the build up. It gets crazier and crazier and you accept everything because you are prepared for it. I liked that about the film. Good direction.

I've been spending so much time with Berna lately. I guess it is easy being in the same office and all but I think even if one of us ended up leaving and working somewhere else, I think I'd still make a conscious effort to see her at least once a week. If anything, I love her ability to detach and separate work and the personal. Any problem we may find ourselves in work never intrudes into our personal relationship. I admire that from someone. I think it is a great sign of maturity. At the same time, I respect her individuality and her need for personal growth; which I think is important, very important. In fact, I think that a person who holds on to their individuality and their need for personal growth is a person who can have proper relationships (be it friends or lovers or whatever) because that person is aware that other people grow and change too. I don't thank her enough (and not that she'd let me) but we've come to the point where we can walk from the Ayala MRT station to Greenbelt without talking and it wouldn't be uncomfortable. We've reached a point of comfortable silence. Because of proximity, we can talk about nothing and still enjoy ourselves even though we know it's probably going to happen again the next day. And, if we don't hang out or see each other, it's okay too. I love it, I enjoy it. It's easy and comfortable being with her and it's nice to have a friend like that.

Finished reading The Picture of Dorian Gray last night. I expected as much but it was well-written and definitely, Oscar Wilde tried to put in as much sound bites as he could regarding his little theories of the world. I could see myself filling my blog with epigrams from that book. And I probably would. But not in this entry, it would be too obvious. 7 books down and 3 to go and my good friend Morx told me to get an Alice Munro book, as she is one of the best short story writers present right now. So I'll be off to the bookstore very soon to get one.

Books have been such a joy lately that I end up trying to meet everyone during weekday nights so that I have time to read during the weekends. I'd rather not go out. If I need to dance or to dress up and look lovely, I can still do that on a weekday night -- Thursday or Friday. But my Saturdays have been reserved for moments like reading, that way I can spend the whole afternoon and evening with a book. And then savour the hour or two after finishing it. I can just allow myself to think. Sundays, I'm reserving for family and, well, my zips training which I haven't done in a while. I was in the beach one Sunday and then my trainer was in the beach the following. I won't be able to go this Sunday because I've got work and the following weekend, I'll be in Bacolod.

I can't wait to go to Bacolod. A time to see my Mom and my sister and my brothers and my nephew and niece and my cousins. Strange to fill my Sundays with my family and still have other family that I haven't seen in a long time far away. I think this will be a great trip and weddings are always such joyous occasions. If only one didn't need to wear leather shoes and a barong. I've never been a formal-wear kind of guy. I hate leather shoes. It's hard to dance in them and they hurt your feet after. But then again, that's just me.

(picture of Berna and me by Anne Rodriguez. Taken back in 2004, around November)
(picture of me reading by Romyr. I never really got his last name, friend of Jaypee)

posted by wanggo @ 2:45 PM 1 comments

much ado about hair

Adam Zagajewski
Praise the mutilated world
And the gray feather a thrush lost,
And the gentle light that strays and vanishes
And returns

There's a lot going on at the top of my head. I'm growing my hair for the first time in my whole life. You see, as a kid, I went to a school that insisted that men have short hair -- crew cuts, even. So, to save on time and the bothersome trips to the barber, I kept my hair utterly short. I was in the same school from Grade 2 until I graduated High School in 1996. That's the reason why I don't know how to brush or comb my hair. It was never long enough to be brushed or combed. So I got used to it. An aunt of mine had remarked that I had a nicely-shaped head so that short hair (even shaved) looked good on me. My mom said it was because I was held a lot when I was a baby; formed the shape of my head quite nicely.

So this is what my hair looked like for the longest time. Variations of this style was kept for pretty much my whole life. It was neat, easy to fix and kept me quite happy. There was absolutely no maintenance necessary. I would wake up, take a shower and then dry my hair and it was ready. It was so simple. Sometimes, when I would have sleep overs with friends, I'd watch the girls step out of the bathroom after a shower or a bath with a towel wrapped around their heads like a turban and wonder how it felt like. My Dad has very unusually long hair. It's length exceeds a little beyond the half of his back. I'd see him step out of his room with a towel draped around his shoulders to catch the water dripping. He'd sit in front of the computer and my mom would proceed to dry his hair with the towel and then brush the whole length of his hair while he'd be playing computer. I never went through that and I was happy for it. My hair grooming ended when I finished toweling it dry. Of course, when I'd go head-banging to rock songs, there'd be no real effect except maybe for a little stiff-neck the day after but that was okay. I didn't really mind.

Ever since I was 16, my Dad has been asking me to grow my hair. He insists that I would look good with it. I said, No, you're not the one who has to take care of it. I would have to and I don't know how. He insisted I learn to and that I would look good and for 10 years, I've resisted. But curiousity hit me hard and I've been seriously thinking about it all of last year. Sometimes, work would get to me and I'd have to miss out my chances to go to the barber or the salon to have my hair cut and for the short length it would increase, I was a little intrigued by the effect. This year, around February, I decided to finally give in to the request of my father. More than to make him happy, I've had the same kind of hair style since I was 4 years old. I wanted a change. I wanted something different. So I decided to do something different. I decided to grow my hair. Thus in June, as seen in the picture taken in Palawan, I started experiencing what it was like to have bangs. It was totally different.

And this is just hair, mind you. But it's become this big thing. Growing it, I was particularly annoyed by the awkward stage one gets in when growing their hair. So I started wearing bonnets and caps and anyone who's been my friend for a long period of time will tell you that I'm so not a bonnet or cap person. They were a little weirded out by the "new look" and were telling me to have a haircut already. But I trudged on. My Dad's glee could be seen every week when we would meet during Sundays at the length my hair was taking. You're going to look so good, he would say, almost like a chant. Yeah, yeah, yeah I would respond in kind. Hell, as long as something was different with the way I looked, I'd be happy. Truth was, I'm doing this for him too and it makes me happy to see him happy.

So now I've got hair long enough that I have to brush after showers, or after it had dried. Now, it's too long to really wear a bonnet, but I still do sometimes and a cap becomes absolutely necessary when I just wake up and have to rush to work without time to fix myself up. I still get screamed at to just have it cut but lately, more and more people are beginning to agree with my Dad (to my Dad's happiness), though not by much. Most people would rather have me chop it off. Since I don't go out as often as before, when I do, people who I used to see often out would not recognise me and when they do, they'd get so shocked. You're hair is so long! they'd remark and begin to touch the tips as if to check it was real. Now, when I wake up or spend hours reading and I'd go to the bathroom to do my business, I would look at the huge coif on my head and begin to brush it down. Because of the quality of my hair, it would end up becoming bigger and more pronounced. I'd pony-tail it in 3 places when I'm at home just so that I wouldn't be bothered by hair tickling the back of my neck or coming in front of my eyes. I've got pimples on my forehead when pimples have not been a problem for me for the past 3 or 4 years now. But you know what? I like it. This is me with my friend Rica after Berna ironed our hair during downtime while shooting. You can actually do stuff with it! When I headbang to rock music, it actually moves! There is an actual effect and it's not just a stiff neck the day after. When I get pressured or tired, I run my hands through my hair and it calms me sometimes. It does wonders to my vanity. I love it.

All this about dead skin cells, I swear! It's the silliest thing to be fretting much over and so I'm kind of confused at why people make such a big deal about when they see me sporting it. It's fun. It won't change the world, that's for sure but hey! I like it and I'm having fun. Why keep me boxed up in the idea that I've had short hair all my life. Allow me some diversity and flexibility. One day next year, I'll probably lose my nerve and cut it off. But while that hasn't happened yet; I'm enjoying having something to take care of other than my uber-sensitive, over-dramatic sensitivities.

I can't wait for next year when it's long enough that I can sit down in front of a hair stylist and asked him or her to do magic with it like layers or something. It's much ado about hair but hell, it's fun!

posted by wanggo @ 4:54 PM 1 comments