of songs and meanings

Iam trying to recall the songs I used to sing, all the while trying to learn by heart the songs that I think define me as I am today.

Even as I know that merely reciting ( I can't absolutely claim what I do as singing) or even listening to the songs does not necessarily reanimate moments,identities, and alas, forgotten or changed truths, I keep on trying to find consolation from the fact that the songs can still be sung, can be heard, I only have to will hearing and singing them.

Which is not the case for other things.

I find that wanting to talk to some person isn't always like actually talking to the same person. You realize; she's now speaking in some language you do not understand, he's now intelligible, talking about changed principles, renewed perspectives.
I find that meanings are not permanent, or at least not for everyone.
Though I absolutely want to vaingloriously announce that I am one of those who always deem the old respectable, I realize I can't. and It is, I know selfish, but I cannot help but feel disappointed when meanings change for other people as well.
I find that my memory, is it memory, is susceptible to the constant invitation to disremember the day and the sun during the night.

Because these are the songs I believed the soundtracks of who I am (or was), my little triumphs, my day dreams, my awkward heartaches, my imagined heartbreaks, my late-night conversations with myself.

And yet when I try to listen to some of them, I cannot find the same joy, or at least recall what they might have meant for me at a certain time, the way I cannot recall how my first glass of coke might have tasted for me, how my first time to write my name legibly must have felt. Moreover, I realize, that specific sense and significance cannot be replicated in the same way that history cannot be repeated. I have yet to know if it is because it may be in another time or moment, or if it's true that people never remain exactly who they are, and that they, we, change a moment or a few more after we claim to be who we want to be at a certain time.

I cannot, however, argue that it is vain to sing these songs, since they are to be meaningless in another time. It cannot be said that our impulse to find things for expression is futile, that to relate to some other person's song or writing is inane...because while realizing that some things do not mean the same after some time anymore I am aware that sharing some song with the artist (enough to download it from the internet, or better yet, legally buy records or even go to concerts) is an indication that we are alike in some way or more, similarly human (I hope not otherwise). When you find yourself agreeing to the writer, it is not only a suggestion of seeing sense, but also of finally finding your own thought in someone else's text, of seeing what you have always felt but failed to express let out, at last. I also know that we are always in search of fortifications for our beliefs, supports for our resolutions, an affirmative answer to our question of being. and sometimes they are enough, a certain song, or a letter, you sang or read a certain time, to prove that you were, at that time happy, in love, miserable, triumphant, sincere or remorseful; or simply that you were actually there in the first place.
Like how i can claim that once, I sang a certain Dashboard Confessional song to myself, because I believed in another person completely (but was too vain to admit it, and too afraid of the reaction to that belief). I am not sure if I sing it now with as much passion or if that belief is still as firm. Now I am aware that I have gotten past that vanity and fear, but I know at a particular time, that song meant precisely that for me.

Knowing these, I do not lose the fervor to find the melodies and the words to define every moment and ideal, to claim a poem, or a movie (or a koreanovela:)), or a song, mine as much as it's of the writer's, composer's or director's.

And so I re-sing the songs I used to sing, and I mouth the new lyrics that now chase my every emotion and dream, and while fully knowing that tomorrow these songs may not mean anything at all to me, though still surreptitiously wishing they would, I sing with the same spirit, an olden spirit - that of dreaming.

Completely believing, completely willing.

The melodies may be evanescent, I'm hoping not, but if they are, then that's a better reason to relish the meanings while they last.


"but i believe in you so much i could die for the words that you say
but i believe in you so much i could die from the words that you say"
chasing the ghost of a good thing.dashboard confessional

parang

bakit

parang langit?
parang ikaw--
parang ako.

ngunit
parang wala naman. :|

FOR THE UNSPEAKABLE PERTRACHAN DREAM

TO THE UNSPEAKABLE PERTRACHAN DREAM

I just want to come up with something smart to say to you.
I just want to wow you with my new-found genius, surprise with you with my mental prowess, to make you realize, I’m at least worthy of your time. And somehow, I want to convince myself, and you, that no, you’re not noosphere.

I just want to come up with something funny to say to you.
I just want to make you laugh, because I love seeing you laugh. I really do. It’ll be so funny you’ll forget everything else in the world. So freaking hilarious you won’t help but beam like the cats I really really hate And your smiles mark the moments. And I wonder how long they last, and how I should count them. With heart beats, I suppose. And your smiles and laughter are a heart race.

I just want to come up with something mean to say to you.
It’ll be so nasty I’d leave you so miserable. You see, I should have never seen you, and met you, and talked to you. I should have never known who you are, because I cannot even imagine not knowing you. And besides I don’t think you’re treating me fairly. First of all, a yes-or-no question means no maybes. Secondly, sometimes you seem to think you are the most important thing. Not that you’re unimportant, but why think it? And lastly, I want you to know, I can always go. And I will be so cold; you will feel to your bones how I do not care – at all.

I just want to come up with something sad to say to you.
Just so you can look me that way again, to show me there are better things. To tell me, like so many times before, how we are bound to overcome. And I want you to sing those melodies again; the songs I despise, the songs you love, the songs that make me realize I am not perfect, and that perhaps I may need your help.

I want to come up with something scary to say to you.
I want to frighten you out of your wits and make you run, and go somewhere I can never follow. I want you there, because I can’t stand seeing you here. And I can’t stand feeling the way I do. At least then you would have a valid reason to hate me.

I just want to come up with something happy to say to you.
Just so you know you’re part of that happiness. I want you to see how there is at least an ounce of positivity in me. Yes, there is, now. I want you to see how you changed me. I want you to see how I am even remotely like you.

And I will talk to you; I won’t be so tongue-tied, caught in a word fight so blank and unready. I won’t be so pathetically charmed, my senses won’t be petrified. I won’t need to shrug and smile half-smiles so stupidly, to fill the void, to make up for the unexplainable silence between you and me.
I’ll look you dead in the eye, and I won’t be afraid. I will speak, and you will understand perfectly what I mean. You will hear my words, how I feel, what I think. And you will know who I am, what I am made of.
It’ll be so natural, like you were meant to just listen to me, and I, to you.

I just want to come up with something -----
I just want to come up with something, at all, to say to you.

city lights, coffee and smiles

Ot has been quite a year.

And my attempt to convincing myself that I am so strong and good and very much capable has somehow led me to a wonderfully-created illusion of the dispensability of all friendships. Yes, friendships that are pointless, baseless, or simply imaginary should be forgotten, without any backward glance and that will be the proper thing.

But the greater truth is that there are exceptional friendships which are worth more than whatever social networks can generate, which go beyond territories, and which, without question, will be the friendships that will last.

First, it was the trains that fascinated me. the very train which united us three [mrt :)] became the channel for a meeting that I knew would indicate either a dying (or already dead) or well, the same friendship. you see, there was one who braved the rain for hopes of moments spent together - and just that. then there was the other, who, as she rode the escalator she feared, showed me, friends can overcome.

The problem in meeting your old friends when you have so many new ones is essentially the same for everyone - the fear of seeing or being different people. Of course you want to see them, but at the back of your mind, you wonder, and half-wish you would be able to come up with a list of common things you can employ during your encounter. so when you meet them, you will not be caught so starkingly unready; with half smiles, side-glancing looks, and a constant fear for the akward silence.

And then it breaks, that wall.

What magic, you find out you are still the same people; and surprisingly you know one another even better. what freedom, to say those things you can't say to other people so easily and comfortably, it's like breathing. what happiness, when you find there are people who understand your weirdness (and uniqueness), and who do not have to feign surprise with every 'new' thing you think of or say.

Second, I think of the food, and sharing. i realized it's not about what it is between you but how you get through. It is not the too expensive mongolian meals in front of you (and frankly it didn't taste good), but the spoken words in between. I have drunk so much coffee in the past few days. but I realized it is not the coffee you drink, but who you share it with. It is not about what you cry about, but the fact that you do. Crying is human..

Third, friends are necessary for good memory. Funny, how you just easily remember so many trivial things, and realize that no, they actually have value. Perhaps if everbody was surrounded with such good friends, alzheimer's disease wouldn't even exist.

Fourth, it is swallowing down a tasty fish cracker, and moving on. It is parting ways but knowing, and assuring one another we will meet again. :) It is going up the 49th level of a building you've never seen before, and spending time to look at the city lights.

You just realize, this is the first time you looked together from so high a place. and even with the absence of stars, the skies are comforting. Yes, we will get our own cars :), yes, I will end marry that petrarchan dream, yes, there will be more saturdays for us. there is fear of rain, but it is less scary.

You look below to observe the cars, going slow.
You just think of train stations, trains even, and how they go too fast.

Perhaps we have moved on from trains and train stations. From waiting, and choosing not to.
we have gone to the era of fast (or slow?) cars, with only coffee breaks in between. Oh the world seems to be going so fast that we tend to forget to sleep.

But then, friends make it worthwhile.

So we lose friends, and then we make new ones. the best thing, however, is how we can keep the really good ones.

sow cars, sleepless nights, friendships lost -- have really found an offset in the citylights, coffee and smiles.

it was one of those nights: hey moon please forget to fall down.
but it will, it constantly does.

And that's alright. i have more coffee nights, and swimming parties (or not?) to look forward to.

Enough to make up for the heartbreaks in the past.
[rainy days are not so scary when you have these friends. :) ] GOODTIMES.

a farewell to that thing called friendship

It's okay to lose friends if they don't intend to be friends anyway. Friendship should be the music that gets you through the rainy night, the free coffee that quenches all the thirst in you; it’s the open door that actually leads somewhere just when you think you’re ultimately lost, it is something you can completely own, yours. This is friendship – a relationship - a contract and then a status. And sometimes it ends. Too bad.
But maybe this is best. or at least better than pretending.


No. There shouldn't be any good in goodbye's.

08072009

the distance lengthens as the clock unwinds
and further goes that
look in your eyes
they can't find me
nor do they want to - anymore.


NO. OUR EYES DO

NOT MEET ANYMORE.

I am writing in the middle of the night

I am writing this because I have nothing else to do.
And you know how much I want to talk about the rain and science and literature. And the wonder effects of caffeine. You know how I enjoy reading but fail to read the signs.
I am writing because I just can’t seem to speak these days.
But you know how much I love words, sometimes even more than their meanings. Like how I randomly say cripple and dota and omega and some name I just like hearing after mine. And how I don’t make sense most of the time. And perhaps you see how I keep my head down as others speak, even when I know I have more things to say, more sensible things to say. And less the curses, of course. You know I don’t like talking.
I am writing because it’s comforting.
You see I convince myself that every time I write I am sharing a part of myself to someone/something else. Then I am more human. And web pages are not terrifying especially if you know no one reads. Then, the fault wouldn’t be entirely yours, but theirs as well, and you convince yourself you are not anti social.
I am writing because I don’t know what time it is.
And perhaps, I am writing because I don’t care. My right wrist where my watch should be, is bare; but the night sky tells me it’s late. It’s late. I’m always late, and tonight I am being late because I am writing, and I am writing about being late.
I am writing because I have ink enough to spare, and I want to fill the space in front of me.
And that’s funny, because filling space is what other people do, I enjoy being alone. Well, except if the other choice is being with –--
I am writing because I want to feel this time worthwhile, and productive and significant and true.
I like knowing that time passes, that time has passed. I really hate the sense of things being gone. But the knowledge that they really were once true is usually a consolation enough for me. And when I see this in the future, I would know time had passes, and I was part of it.
I am writing because I don’t understand what’s on my head.
This ringing has been going on and on. But I don’t want to write about another person anymore. I want this to be entirely about myself, but sometimes I’m not sure if I should be writing about me, when I can’t even understand my thoughts anymore.
And then something says that I am writing this because I can’t stop thinking about you.

But I wouldn’t want to sign myself into another broken vow, and moments of after-thoughts. You see, now, I am thinking of a shirt, and a pen, and now some other person’s handwriting. Now I am thinking about a bike, now the moon. Now your eyes, so like the moon. Now I am thinking about the rain, now mud. I am thinking about a colon, I don’t know why, it is a punctuation mark that says these, or that something follows, or maybe it is just a dot over another we make too much of. Now I am thinking about the sun, it is absent. I am thinking of a church, and water. I am thinking about how you wouldn’t see this anyway. I am thinking about how there is no particular you in my head. I am thinking of what to write next, and I don’t know if I should care. I don’t know what to write anymore.

I realized I am writing when I have a lot of other things to do.

filmmm

examples

FROM NOW ON

IO SOL UNO.

Amnesia

I really take it a serious insult to my intellect and will whenever people tell me how is should feel, and worse, when they tell instruct you to forget the very reason you feel the way you do। You can't blame me for hating the government because it is not perfect। You can''t hate me for hating the government because it is not even trying to be perfect (and as you read this, ask yourself, who is the government? -ihatemyself) You can't blame me for condemning the wrong --that is a natural reaction, the way compassion and forgiveness and mercy should be natural reactions (of the heart) and should not be forced out of someone so tragically young to lose innocence. You tell me I'm sick, I'll take that, but I should tell you, you're worse. Oh wait,. I did that. And what was your reply? To freaking forget about it. But I will not. And the more you tell me I should, the more I am convinced I hate you.


Because this is how you deal with a problem: first, you racognize the problem, you acknowledge it's there, you accept that it exists, there is a problem. And then, steps two, three, four and five: you deal with the problem. You allow yourself to feel, and then consider right and wrong. So the problem may be solved, and only after, if possible, do you try to forget. No? You don't get it? Allow me a few metaphors. The problem is a disease in the body. When your system tells you you're sick, your natural reaction is to play the doctor. You convince yourself you're okay, you sleep it off, or drown it with random activities and distractions. But then. you realize, it's actually there -- a disease, so you go for a real doctor. And the doctor is supposed to cure you, to provide a solution and ease the pain. The doctor provides a medicine. And healing will be, and will always be, a process.
Come on, how do you evaluate your medicine? It is not with the bitter taste it comes with it how it makes you feel at the moment, but rather, how it will make you feel better, how it will cure your system and how it will help you in the long run. It is not about the pain that comes with the healing but the healing itself. And the doctor, the trusted, beloved doctor, is supposed to give you a chance to mend.
so please don't ask me to JUST forget about it।You don't forget the pain, you feel it। And it lingers without a cure।
I didn't expect to have to tell you --- Amnesia is worse a disease if self-induced।

forgive my words

words don't really mean anything

we just think they do.

of course.

hummmmm.

sana ako na lang.
ang siya
sa mga winika mong pag-irog.
ang kaputol ng mga pangungusap mong
bumuhos sa nanlamig nang
kawalan.

wala na ang tugtugin
wala na rin ba ang damdamin?
naiwan mo akong
nakatihaya sa ilalim ng mga talang
napagod na sa kaiinda ng aking
walang-sawang pagtingin.

pag-ibig
ang tala
ay nawawala.

ang lunatiko

bakit nasisilaw na sa sinag ng buwan?

BITTER =))

---

You entered: maria anne teresa rivera

There are 21 letters in your name.
Those 21 letters total to 100
There are 11 vowels and 10 consonants in your name.

What your first name means:

Swedish	Female	Bitter.
Spanish	Female	Bitter.
Shakespearean	Female	'Love's Labours Lost' A lady attending on the Princess of France. 'Twelfth Night', also called 'What You Will' Olivia's waiting woman.
Norse	Female	Name not originally Norse but it appears in several sagas and is the name of King Harald Sigurdsson's daughter.
Latin	Female	Commonly-used variant of Mary: Wished-for child; rebellion; bitter. Popular with both Spanish and non-Spanish cultures.
Italian	Female	Bitter.
Hebrew	Female	Variant of Mary: Wished-for child; rebellion; bitter.
German	Female	Bitter.
French	Female	Bitter.

Your number is: 1

The characteristics of #1 are: Initiating action, pioneering, leading, independent, attaining, individual.

The expression or destiny for #1:
A number 1 Expression denotes the skilled executive with keen administrative capabilities. You must develop the capacity to be a fine leader, sales executive, or promoter. You have the tools to become an original person with a creative approach to problem solving, and a penchant for initiating action. Someone may have to follow behind you to handle the details, but you know how to get things going and make things happen. You have a good mind and the ability to use it for your advancement. Because of these factors, you have much potential for achievement and financial rewards. Frequently, this expression belongs to one running a business or striving to achieve a level of accomplishment on ones talents and efforts. You have little need for much supervision, preferring to act on your own with little restraint. You are both ambitious and determined. Self-confident and self-reliant must be yours, as you develop a strong unyielding will and the courage of your convictions.

Although you fear loneliness, you want to be left alone. You fear routine and being in a rut. You often jump the gun because you are afraid of being left behind.

The negative attributes of the 1 Expression are egotism and a self-centered approach to life. This is an aggressive number and if it is over-emphasized it is very hard to live with. You do not have to be overly aggressive to fulfill your destiny. The 1 has a natural instinct to dominate and to be the boss; adhering to the concept of being number One. Again, you do not have to dominate and destroy in order to lead and manage.

Your Soul Urge number is: 7

A Soul Urge number of 7 means:
With a number 7 Soul Urge you are very fond of reading, and retreating to periods of being alone and away from the disruptions of the outer world. You like to dream and develop you idealistic understandings, to study and analyze, to gain knowledge and wisdom. You may be too laid back and withdrawn to really succeed in the business world, and you will be much more comfortable in circumstances that are tolerant of your reserve, your analytical approach, and your desire to use your mind rather than your physical being.

You are very timid around people that you don't know very well, so much so at times that casual conversation and social situations can be strained. You tend to repress your emotions to the extend that some people have a good bit of difficult understanding you. You tend to be very selective with friends and you don't easily adapt to new environments or to new people very quickly.

The negative traits of the 7 include becoming too much the introvert and isolated from others.

Your Inner Dream number is: 3

An Inner Dream number of 3 means:
You dream of artistic expression; writing, painting, music. You would seek to more freely express your inner feeling and obtain more enjoyment from life. You also dream of being more popular, likable, and appreciated.

So you think you know me?

I Know You by Henry Rollins

was listening to bigkas pilipinas one night. try it. jam 88.3

I know you

you were too short

you had bad skin

you couldn't talk to them very well

words didn't seem to work

they lied when they came out of your mouth

you tried so hard to understand them

you wanted to be part of what was happening

you saw them having fun

and it seemed like such a mystery

almost magic

made you think that there was something wrong with you

you'd look in the mirror trying to find it

you thought that you were uglyand that everyone was looking at you

so you learned to be invisible

to look down

to avoid conversation

the hoursdays

weekends

ah the weekend nights, alone

where were you

in the basement?

in the attic?

in your room?

working some job?

just to have something to do

just to have a place to put yourself

just to have a way to get away from them

a chance to get away from the ones that made you feel so strange and ill-at-ease inside yourself

did you ever get invited to one of their parties

you sat and wondered if you would go or not

for hours you imagined the scenarios that might transpire

they would laugh at you

if you would know what to do

if you would have the right things on

if they would notice that you came from a different planet

did you get all brave in your thoughts

like you were going to be able to go in there and deal with it

and have a great time

did you think that you might be "the life of the party"that all these people were gonna talk to you

and you would find out that you were wrong

that you had a lot of friends

and you weren't so strange after all?

did you end up going

did they mess with you

did they single you out

did you find out that you were invited

because they thought you were so weird

yeah, I think I know you

you spent a lot of time full of hate

a hate that was pure as sunshine

a hate that saw for milesa hate that kept you up at night

a hate that filled your every waking moment

a hate that carried you for a long time

yes I think I know you

you couldn't figure out what they saw and the way they lived

home was not home

your room was home

a corner was home

the place they weren't- that was home

I know you

you're sensitive

and you hide it, because you fear getting stepped on one more time

it seems that when you show a part of yourself that is the least bit vulnerable

someone takes advantage of you

one of them steps on you

they mistake kindness for weakness

but you know the difference

you've been the brunt of their weakness for years

and strength is something you know a bit about

because you had to be strong to keep yourself alive

you know yourself very well now

and you don't trust people

you know them too well

you try to find that "special person"someone you can be with

someone you can touch

someone you can talk to

someone you won't feel so strange around

and you found that they don't really exist

you feel closer to people on movie screens

yeah, I think I know you

you spend a lot of time daydreaming

and people have made comment to that effect

telling you that you're "self-involved" and "self-centered"but they don't know, do they

about the long nightshifts alone

about the years of keeping yourself company

all the nights you wrapped your arms around yourself

so you could imagine someone holding you

the hours of indecisionself-doubt

the intense depressionthe blinding hate

the rage that made you stagger

the devastation of rejection

well

maybe they do know

but if they do

they sure do a good job of hiding it

it astounds you how they can be so smooth

how they seem to pass through life as if life itself was some divine gift

and it infuriates you to watch yourself with your apparent skill,

and finding every way possible to screw it upfor you, life is a long trip

terrifying and wonderful

birds sing to you at night

the rain and the sun

the changing seasons

are true friends

solitude is a hard won ally

faithful and patient

yeah, I think I know you

books,

bookstores make me sad, and happy, both at the same time.
i like seeing books, i like reading books. i mean. i LOVE reading.:D
and the sight of so many of them really fills me with delight.
however, seeing thousands of them all at the same time make me realize that i will never be able to read them all.

so i decided to spend all of my free time reading. to read as much as i can.
when i say free time, i'm talking about school breaks and in-between-home-duty periods.
i also have other things to do.
but i guess reading is more productive than talking to yourself so there we are again - reading.

i've also decided that comparing my booklist with other people's is both bad and helpfu.
so from now on i shall keep track of my readings, and see if i can improve, and will improve.

hmm.
so today is, january 13th, if i'm not mistaken.

so so far, i've read.... (starting january first)

neverwhere.... neil gaiman
coraline....neil gaiman
good omens....neil geiman...
the hunt for the red october.... tom clancy
lucifer volume 1 ...mike carey
the sandman volume one preludes and nocturnes...neil gaiman
crank...ellen hopkins
Reconnaissance...tara ft sering
smaller and smaller circles...f.h. batacan

actually, i think, i finished reading the sefting and batacan last december.

anyway, i really have a lot to do these coming days, so i might not read more (fun books) in the near future.
but wish me luck.

DOTA

wow. it's been more than a year since i last posted anything here, well, honestly, i forgot my password and i was too lazy to go through all the forgot-password?-troubles. really.

then suddenly it popped into my head, and so here i am, a year and several pounds later. (and i mean the weight, not the currency. haha).



after going through the nosebleed affair that is my filipino homework (i had to translate at least three english books to filipino and summarize them and all, and edit the whole thing because the word 'ay', apparently, is not allowed. to think that the books were about world religions, no less.).



anyway.

i would like to regard myself a fair/just/well-meaning person. i give rewards and due respect to those who earn them. and as for tonight's case, i wanted to reward myself.

obviously, i thought of dota, (don't tell me you didn't get that from the title, dummy) or maybe counter strike, since i like it better, but it's been a while since I've heard pugna's as-you-wish singsong reply to my mouseclicks.
Hey wait, I want to say that i'm not even good, in fact, i don't play with other people because i suck and i really don't enjoy embarrassment.



Dota is fun, with heroes and abilities and all, counter strike is fun too, with all the guns and everything. i like playing counter strike, it assuages my violent needs (haha-yep, i'm violent), and well, it's cool.



But right, i don't feel like it. suddenly dota, isn't such a good idea. dota makes me think of Gaza.

But we're not talking about make-believe ancients here, this is a real place, a home for a lot of people, they are not taking points for every damage, they are taking lives.

This is outrageous!

How it can be that while we drink our coffee here, or watch koreanovelas, read our Neil Gaiman novels, solve Cryptograms, while listen to Panic at the Disco while trying (but not really) to study, while we sit here, and breathe here, comfortably, the other side of the world is fighting, struggling for survival.

and in wars, of course, not everyone can win.

And they're dying while waiting, but what are they waiting for?

For more officials to babble about their political plans and political points of view? For more bombs and gunshots? For the hospital's last three power generators to run out?

It really sucks to really see how men can be consumed with power, and it sucks even more, that it's taking human lives for people to see that.

We are supposed to be civilized, aren't we?

Suddenly, suddenly i want all these to be under my control, to be within my mouse-clicking abilities, No i wouldn't want to play god, but i want o have the power to stop this, to end it all. But (i agree with you) who the hell am i?

Suddenly Pugna's Life Drain doesn't seem so cool anymore.

As i see them use it.