My Blog

for former readers of the luzonian, serendipity is a popular column for sweet nothings or bold gender concerns. for others who are not that lucky to read the legendary publication, it is a hit hollywood movie featuring diana zubiri and max alvarado (hehehe, di ko kasi napanood).  anyways, speaking of the word, sometimes we accidentally discover something life-changing in the middle of doing something we were thinking most important.

sometimes, destiny comes in our way and suddenly take control of everything. and we could only do nothing! sounds teen and corny, but the spell hit most composed and organized people that i knew.

why am i saying this? wala lang….

tsk3, i met some people some months back, mostly political beings, who were willing to bet their wives and dogs believing that the there will be no election this may. good thing i hate gambling, i should have been busy everyday shopping for lipsticks, undies, dusters and pedigree. btw, this election is a sure blockbuster. not only in the national scene but much romaticism is promised in the local derbies. everybody is praying for a peaceful war of strategies, but we could only dream for an honest and credible elections. anyways, as they put it, everything is fair in love, war and elections.

i can’t eat lunch today. my stomach is pushing the food back. that guy clad in white (he’s not an ob-gyne) said too much coffee or alcohol could have caused this phenomenon. i haven’t took alcoholic drinks for some while. perhaps damned coffee has awaken too much acid in my system. tsk, tsk, tsk, i should have listened to that mesmerizing lady who hated coffee.

btw, today is kenneth’s bday. he’s an old friend back in my college years. one of the better writers i know, he has a style of his own, and absolutely a mind of his own. i don’t know if he likes coffee but he likes to get along with worthless people like this writer. he likes to speak his mind but not everyone is gifted enough to understand his depth. happy bday kanuto! painom ka!!!

Ode to the loving
falls

in a perfect
world of serious fools

 nonsense is kept in golden room

text messages
are classic poems

 of prolific lovers dancing in the
moon.

beneath
the epitaph of bitter reality

  liars
salvage tempting illusions

drawing
monalisa in silent rhapsody

  then
breathe no more as the crayon falls.

emotions are
indeed complicated

 bullshit, like phone calls
unattended

dating with
dreaming of lucid tomorrow

 waking up rubbishing on a wet blue
pillow

to
hell with us for being late

  eros
has closed the 13^th gate

this
infidel is dying soon

  destiny
has written his worthless doom.

So late

Once upon a time…

            i exist, but i doubt i live

            i know the meaning, but i can’t find the answer

            i look, but i cannot listen

there was reason, but there was no purpose

Then I found you…

When you’re in my arms…

            i could hear your heart singing

                        lovely melody that made me forget my name

            the touch of your skin was like an eternity

                        of tranquil moment and a glimpse of heaven

            every song held a story of a chapter of joy

            each smile was portrait of love and devotion

            roses smelled sweeter than promises

            each kiss was a journey to forever

Suddenly…

the rhythm of the rain was noise to the ears

the mystical sunset was poetry no more

the quiet beauty of the old church has faded

no melody could mean music to the soul

And even if you’re near, I could not touch your skin

our lips were one but your heart was cold

I wish I could free those words you wished to utter

"the love you knew in me was lost forever."

It is over, no room for sorry

Just goodbye, sweet love story….

i usually hate pocketbooks. my aunt and my sisters used to pile those corny stuffs in my study table when i was younger. i would love to see them got teared of by my dog or my little cousins. not so long ago, those unimportant publications in our little house could not fit into the ref and washing machine boxes. i could brave a few pages of mystery, science-fiction stories and some of the bestsellers but never the romance oriented literatures.

i don’t know maybe it’s just a state of mind, some of my favorite books have pocketbook releases. example, i would rather read da vinci code in pc monitor even if it pains my tantalizing eyes than open the pages of that little bulky book.

i would like to thank my drinking buddy, journalist john bello, for introducing black lace collections pocketbooks to this sick man. it provides a therapy if not a cure to my illness. understanding how women really think is indeed interesting even if it would be written in clay tablets, my friends enteng, tacho, john (and most especially those that i failed to name) would flex muscle with me reading those thoughts.

have you ever been to a government office on a friday? if not, try visiting one this afternoon and enjoy the A1 civil service we taxpayers deserve. good thing you have a weekend ahead to forget.

while the political spin doctors of the gma adminstration have been playing their games magnificently in the issues of charter change (people’s initiative, conasshole, etc), some of the members of the cabinet are still floating the issue of a no election scenario this may. well, i can’t blame them. maybe they are afraid that many opposition congressperson (gender sensitive, hehehe!) would be elected. meaning the impeachment of gma would be the "next picture". and even greater reason to be frightened would be the presumed hostility of the next senate, considering the sws survey that no administration senatoriable would make it in may.

mondays are boring…

ooops, a dedicated civil servant could not be uttering that line. but the real score is most if not all mondays are not so kind. imagine the morning rush, the wet hair of your seatmate in the puj whipping your face as the driver worries if he’s hitting his speed limit, flag ceremonies where everybody swears not to be corrupt, last week’s unfinished tasks, and a whole day of politics. tsk tsk tsk, who wants a switch? at least for a day.

after an eternity of nonsense, i’ll be trying to speak my mind again on more nonsense. my pen got burried under the mud of politicking for sometime and i don’t think any amount of cleanser would sanitize it soon. but as a process of calibration, i will try wrestling with these keys for a while until my reliable old panda finds the rhythm to sail on with my weird thoughts across a 25 cents yellow pad again.