I remember the very first time I had an actual conversation with Alexis. It was at an Italian fast food joint across UA&P and I couldn’t believe it was happening.
It was the summer of 2006. I had recently graduated from university and had no idea what to do next. My life was at a standstill but I didn’t care. All I cared about was the fact that I was having lunch with a person who, prior to that meeting, I had only greatly admired from a distance.
I remember being quite taken with him. He was charming, witty, passionate, and immensely intelligent. But what stood out the most was his ability to make me feel at ease, joking around as if we had been lifelong friends when in fact we had only met a mere five minutes ago.
Alexis was the kind of person who was unhesitant to extend himself and sincerely connect with strangers. Those who had the pleasure of knowing him all recognize how welcoming he was. He had a refreshing quality of being genuinely interested in the opinions of others, no matter if the opinion had more “umms” and “uhhhs” than real insight.
That was how we met. And I’m incredibly glad that he listened beyond those ridiculous amounts of “umms” and “uhhs” and gave me the very exquisite pleasure of calling me his friend.
The very recent tragedy that had taken you and Nika away has a lot of us wounded and almost too tired to begin again. We may never be rid of the grief but trust that someday we will be dreaming outrageously again - just like you did, just like both of you did.
So I high-ho’d off to blogspot. It’s not that I don’t love LJ anymore. It’s just more peaceful on the other side. Having an LJ is like renting a not quite old and not quite new one-bedroom apartment in the city. The heater clonks out from time to time and you can hear the conversations (and more) of your upstairs neighbor. Blogspot, on the other hand, feels like owning your own property out in the spacious suburbs. It’s relatively quiet, you’ve got your privacy, and you can deal with your neighbors from a comfortable distance.
It’s nice.
So if you’re sick of being bombarded by all the pollution in the city, trek on over to the suburbs to visit me once in a while. I promise to serve you some homemade chocolate chip cookies and freshly squeezed orange juice.
1. What are you worried about? - Tomorrow's client presentation.
2. Are you confused as to what lies ahead of you? - Not really. Flat lands lay ahead though. But it's alright, the scenery looks good anyway.
3. Is there anything that made you unhappy recently? - Realizing what I've already realized a thousand times over, forgetting it, then realizing it once again.
4. What did you last cry over? - Spilled milk.
5. Have you ever dated someone? - Dating is a chore but once in a while, you just really gotta get off your ass to mow that lawn, clean that toilet, and launder those soiled underpants.
6. Which is more blessed, loving someone or being loved by someone? - Cheesy questions deserve selfish answers. Being loved by someone.
7. If the person you like doesn't accept you, would you continue to wait for them to change their feelings? - Nope. But if you want to sharpen or rather, dullen your skills in blockheadedness, then by all means wait. Though getting the picture and keeping it is the way to go.
8. If the person you like is secretly attached, what would you do? - Secretly attached? As in, he isn't telling anyone that he's attached to this girl? Why go for him then? I like my man to scream at the top of his lungs, from the highest mountain in this world that I'm his girl. Hello.
9. What do you want most in life? - I don't know yet.
10. What's the most important thing you look for in a significant other? - Someone I can talk to about everything, nothing and those in between.
11. Have you ever had your heart broken? - Yep.
12. Would you rather be single and rich or married and poor? - Single and rich.
13. Do you like someone right now? - Maybe. Maybe not.
14. Do they like you too? - Maybe. Maybe not.
15. If you fall in love with 2 persons simultaneously, who would you pick? - The one I'd see myself growing old with.
16. What type of friends do you like? - The ones I have now.
17. If you played a prank on someone, and she/he fell for the trick, what would you do? - Laugh at their expense and bask in my glory.
18. If you were betrayed by someone, what would you say to that person? - "Fuck you, you motherfucking fucking fuck!"
19. If the person tagging you likes/loves you, what will you do/say? - I love you too, Adi. But only as a friend.
20. What do you think of the person who tagged you? - She's Awesome Adi. Enough said.
I just spent three whole hours on youtube, making googly eyes at James McAvoy. He's so charming, it's unbelievable. I haven't had a crush on a movie star this strong since Romnick Sarmenta.
There's really nothing that can beat A New Year to indicate change.
2007 was a year of introspection for me. Too much introspection, actually. To the point when I was willing to drug myself up every night of every day just to stop the seed of self-analysis from blossoming into a full fledged weed of destruction of my own creation.
Well 2007, you can disappear into a cloud of smoke now.
2008 carries a load of promises, anticipation. To the point wherein I am so ready for my back to break cos of the hefty load of expectancy.
Oh hellz yeah am I ready for the weight of all that.
I've got enough money to pay a chiropractor to straighten your back, 2008.
Happy new year, bitches. Here's to hoping that '08 will indeed be great.
I suddenly have this overpowering need to cry. Problem is, the tears don't fall so easily for me.
I guess there's only one palpable explanation for this: emotional tears don't come cheap. And as a result, the accumulated interest is creating a huge dent in the wallet called Self Loathing.
This is what you get for borrowing time a.k.a. Delayed Reactions Which Cost a Fortune.
I've been spending hours lately looking thru the pages of strangers' Flickr accounts. My god. They're awesome. My favorite ones are those owned by Japanese folks. My god. I wish I were Japanese. Huh.
Anyway.
Who here has a Flickr account? Add me up, bitchez. :)
Anthems For A Seventeen Year Old by Broken Social Scene
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I've always believed in this particular concept - that a particular song, when constantly heard, its play counts soaring to a ridiculous amount during a certain part during the yesterdays of your life, will infinitely be associated with those particular events that occurred during that specific time.
Just like an opening rift, when heard once again after a long period of not listening to it, would instantly jolt you back to a certain period in your life. Emotions you've believed you've forgotten to feel are suddenly ignited in your insides just by a particular break in the melody of the song; a certain string of lyrics that you've belted out at the top of your lungs or sung quietly in your head or murmured in the most inaudible of voices reads like a phrase, a sentence, or a paragraph that you've mindfully or mindlessly jotted down on the lines of your private journal.
You know what I mean. I am pretty sure you know what I mean.
Songs are a portal to the past. They let you relive the memories you thought were long forgotten.
You begin to enter that musty carriage which reeks of nostalgia, rest your bum on the seat whose upholstery has faded slowly, cross that rickety wooden bridge - worn out by thousands of passages by wearied time travelers. You look out the window of your carriage and vaguely remember that you had passed this route before. Your carriage suddenly slows down and it finally comes to a halt. You exit the doors of your time machine. A breath of fresh air kisses your cheek, while you simultaneously survey your surroundings.
You realize you're back to where you started. It all looks familiar. And a smile creeps up on your face for you lucidly remember the charge of the uncertain that bravely made you want to ride that carriage in the first place.
Then you suddenly hear the familiar opening chords of that particular song. Only this time, the original song is replaced by an orchestrated arrangement of it - it's grander, magnified to an exquisitely majestic scale by violins, harpsichords, and trumpets.
Then you dive back into your carriage, accompanied by a huge grin on your face, and prepare to savor every moment of the long journey back to the present.
But this time around, the color of the scenery around you takes on such a vibrant color, colors that you once thought could never ever be witnessed by the naked human eye.
***
Abundance of flowery prose, isn't it? A good change, I say, from an abundance of self-deprecating train of thoughts.
I should really resuscitate my love for reading. It's about time. Anyone here knows how to administer CPR to an unconscious bookworm? I can still feel the soft drumming of a pulse. Now, that is as good a sign of life if any.
***
I feel that lil' Lou, my trusty ol' Powerbook is about to conk out any moment now. Oh no. I can actually hear my heart slowly breaking into a million, tiny pieces. :(
Happy Vag-day to all you sons of bitches. (Daughters as well, if you wanna be all politically correct about the erm, foul language.)
As a gift, I give you a sad bastard but excruciatingly - painfully - beautiful song by The Smiths. And as always, Morrissey strings words together so honestly that it leaves your heart slightly cracked in certain places.
I recently got a heads up from a good friend that this particular advertising agency was on the hunt for a person to fill in this particular position that I've had my eyes set on for a while now. What did I do? I thought of calling up that agency to further inquire regarding this opening, but merely left it as a thought.
I dunno why I keep doing this. Several chances regarding being part of the workforce have sprung up my way, but I've unknowingly built up this huge wall around me that prevents me from finally getting off my ass and taking that chance. I don't know. It's been eleven months since I've graduated and I'm still a bum. Jesus Christ. I sound like such an achiever, don't I?
But. I'm still looking out for that perfect job that screams me and I'm afraid that I'm not educated at all in that field. If there's one thing I have realized about myself, it's this - I'm very stubborn regarding the kind of job that I will attach to my name. It's good I guess, in a sense that I am striving to attain my dreams and won't take any bullshit job that deviates from the path I want to take, but it stinks like a rat infested sewer cos it's the kind of job that isn't at all too popular here in the Philippines and doesn't pay much at all.
I've realized that the jobs I want to take on are the kinds that don't pay much at all! HA. Ah well. I don't care much about that though. I just want to be doing something that doesn't make me ask myself, "Why the fuck am I doing this?", every twenty seconds. And apparently, it's really all I've been asking myself nowadays.
And this is as random as random goes. This post probably might be a forecast of how this LJ will be the home of lost thoughts seeking for shelter.
Nothing like a being under the influence of a Massive Hangover for two days in a row, and still counting, to celebrate my 22nd year of floating upon the surface of the birds. (The birds, the birds, the biiiirds. Sorry, Thom Yorke. Lemme borrow your words for a second.)
Gaddemit. On any other occassion, I'd be cursing this cumulunimbus cloud that I've been riding on, but no. Twas my birthday yesterday and this hangover is my gift for myself!
And I thought I was immune from getting hangovers. Oh, how quickly do we eat the statements that we proudly proclaimed in the past.
Hey, I'm not making sense! But what else is new? Haw-haw!
Thanks to the people who came over lastnight! Fun, fun, fun, intimate inuman! :D And it wouldn't have been possible if thecuteonekills didn't text me on the 26th to ask if I had plans of celebrating, and then invited everyone in the prod famileh! (I just read my text message reply to you and WTF was that?! Gibberish galore. HAHAHAHA! But still, you understood it. ALAVET!) I love youuuuuu!
And I love friends! Good god, I can't wait for the New Year zelebrazyon!
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kitschykoo's journal
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floooozeh!