Blog For Free!
Archives
Home
2009 August
2009 July
2009 June
2009 May
2009 April
2009 March
2009 February
2009 January
2008 December
2008 November
2008 October
2008 September
2008 August
2008 July
2008 June
2008 May
2008 April
2008 March
2008 February
2008 January
2007 December
2007 November
2007 October
2007 September
2007 August
2007 July
2007 June
2007 May
2007 April
2007 March
2007 February
2007 January
2006 December
2006 November
2006 October
2006 September
2006 August
2006 July
2006 June
2006 May
2006 April
2006 March
2006 February
2006 January
2005 December
2005 November
2005 October
2005 September
2005 August
2005 July
2005 June
2005 May
2005 April
2005 March
2005 February
2005 January
2004 December
2004 November
2004 October
2004 September
2004 August
2004 July
2004 June
2004 May
2004 April
2004 March
My Links
Nightsound - Myspace
Polar - The Animation
Listen to HEART
Nightalive
Studio.MB
My Blogspot
My Facebook
Light A Million Candles
Children's Cancer Foundation
Realistic Surreaelistic
Natsu no Umi
The Red Collection
picture perfect.nothing new
One Headlight
FBY
天蠍の高度秘密
Writing My Own Ransom Letter
Bounce Back To Life
Bitter Chocolate
The Rambling Escapist With Clipped Wings
Pacey's Tots
Join Red
Ogasmic Fetish
I'm A Stranger
A Tiny Blip
Pocky Eulogy
Flabby
tBlog
My Profile
Send tMail
My tFriends
My Images
Sponsored
Blog
*HUGS* TOTAL!
give reqx more *HUGS*
Get hugs of your own
|
| WHENCE |
| 07.31.09 (3:18 am) [edit] |
I've lost track of the number of days I've been cooping myself in the room, watching DVDs, playing games, lazing, and plain sleeping. So much to the point I'm beginning to wonder if days are passing slower, or I'm staying awake longer.
Needless to say, it's another day wasted solely on useless activities. Not that I'm complaining, but the motivation to keep myself on the move just isn't sinking in. Been trying to avoid solidarity of the mind, but ends up getting bashed by myself LOL.
How else does the world spin on your end?
|
|
|
| |
| CHiLDREN OF THE LiGHT |
| 07.29.09 (5:41 am) [edit] |
a silence breaks away from me tonight
another child awakes into the light
the fathers throw their fists against the skies
while mothers hold in their bosoms their pride and joy
where there's darkness a hero he will rise
the saunter of hope edged deep into the eyes
for the people and their freedom he will fight
yet
this is what we fail in kind
we are but frail figures to the might
but angels call us the children of the light
|
|
|
| |
| BREATHE |
| 07.25.09 (4:38 am) [edit] |
|
i used to breathe on my rainy days
|
|
|
| |
| i DREAMT A DREAM i KEPT ALiVE |
| 07.20.09 (1:55 am) [edit] |
I grew up a city life, where many things were readily available - from flipping a simple switch to turn on the lights, to twisting the tap that flows with that very fountain of life.
Sometimes I wonder if its too perfect.
I used to spend some holidays at grandmas, doing absolutely nothing, playing with dirt seemingly helping my aunt with the gardening, but otherwise, I don't recall being any more useful than being a nuisance and a sweetheart that puts a smile on grandma's face.
In truth, she never did raise her voice at me, neither lifting any fingers to hurt me. We hardly spoke, but each time I see her, she would smile, touch my head, and goad me out the kitchen. I had many fond memories about the old house she used to stay in: but one that I would vividly recall and put in my head whenever I need to escape - standing in the backyard, looking out into that vast fields of lalang that stretched for a really far distance. It was a sea of green with fluffy white top that met the horizon somewhere, or as far as my naked eyes could see.
Yes, I've blogged many times about that coffee aroma that punctuates the sweet air in the mornings. I hated sleeping at night cos I know as each time the sun rises, my holidays shortened. I don't watch a lot of TV whenever I'm there, and mom usually don't stop me from staying with her. Granted, although being in a different country,it did seem a little odd that mom's assured of my safety. Perhaps it's just grandma, who would protect me as she had with my mom and all her other eleven children.
The house had a broad balcony that surrounded the entire house, and my aunt was strict about the kids being there unsupervised. But whenever I had the chance to, I'd run ahead with the keys up to the door that opened the way into the balcony, twist the keys in that rusty old lock, and run out, looking right into the skies like always.
Those were the days that gave me what I wanted most now: freedom. Neither grandma would stop me from running around the house compounds, nor would my aunt stop me from catching flies that flocked to the food in the kitchen.
Back home, mom and dad had expectations, but the more rebellious and artistic senses overtook my better judgments - I wanted to create things, I don't want any conventions. They never did understand, but hardly tried to put a sock in it too.
I used to skateboard with friends around the neighborhood, climb the big structures at the playground, and play detective snooping into the vast compounds of my town. Those days, I made friends with the neighborhood kids, and hung out as much as the day would be. Sun down, and you can hear mom's screaming out my friends' names from the kitchen windows. That would be the end of play time, and dinner would be served.
Drawing was a hobby then. I remember lugging a sketch book similar to the one my brother used for his engineering drawings, and head out to wide spaces and just drew, whatever came to mind. I once did a pencil shading of a sand dune, with a lone crow perched to a side. My art teacher gave me an A, while the rest of my friends scratched their heads over it.
While my aunt stayed with my grandma, she left an old acoustic guitar at our place. My brother used to buy loads of tab books to learn the latest hit songs on radio, and when he was finally packed off to the Army, I took the guitar, and started learning basic chords. Never did I go beyond those chords, but they were enough to piece some songs together, and I tried to write some myself.
I recall hearing Padres on the radio when I was a teenager, and even watched them play a million times live, whenever they did. I was so inspired by their sense of rhythm, their styles, their everything. I was enamored with everything they did, so much so I wanted to play in a band too, and perhaps, catch up with them one day and play on the same stage, finally getting an autograph or two. Then, that would be it, the happiest day of my life.
And how life and goals changed.
School was a time when we learned about emotions. I used to feel embarassed, and shy, for I had no built, no height, and no looks. I was a late bloomer, shooting a hefty 1 meter in the last 5 years of my teens. But when I was in primary school, I was but the kid next door. No one looks at me, talks to me, or plays with me, except the kids in my neighborhood who, were just like me.
So when I finished my PSLE at the top of the charts, the kids were shocked at my achievements. They never thought that quiet boy could be that smart or hardworking. I was never a studious kid, honestly, and all I wanted was to dry, collect seeds from the Saga trees, or just writing my name in the sand pits for the long jumpers.
When my turn came to enlist, I was thrown in without a single friend that I knew from school. I was totally all on my own for the first time in my life, surrounded by a bunch of guys just like me. It was grueling, but we made do with whatever we could. And after a while, I found myself losing friends I made when I first joined, and eventually ended up in a place where everyone could go home, except me. So finally, I brought that guitar with me, trying to write songs that never did materialize. And that, was my only friend for a long time.
This guitar was finally stolen after I lent it to a friend who wanted to play in the same band. The guitar was a masterpiece, breaking at the neck once, and was glued back like a secondhand piece. It did work for as long as I could remember, and until it was gone, it was my voice of sorts.
Founding Nightsound was a kind of a dream to me, to finally realise what it was that strikes my chord, that embraces my visions. Never had I tried so hard to keep something going, something which tagged in close to my own heart, as well as others.
There were so many changes and so many songs that had been written, and each time I hear them back, I remember that old guitar, and the blue skies, and the lalang fields, and the coffee aroma, and grandma, and so many other things that just wouldn't go away. I don't wish them to go away, but sometimes, some things need to disappear to know its true value.
Perhaps my wishful thinking has gotten the better of me. For what I would think is an effort anyone could make, it was a milestone for people who thought much deeper into it. I appreciate that, and that's why, I dreamt a dream that I kept alive for so long, hoping that it could be as genuine as everything else in my life, just like how grandma would smile, and I know I can go out and play, without saying a single word.
I've lived a wondrous life that I still rejoice, hoping that it can go on. And with the decision to stop a dream, I seem to forget there were many others; but this is like no other. Grandma would smile, and it would be time for dinner when the sun sets. That I knew. Like I always knew.
And this sun, sets.
|
|
|
| |
| DYSPHORiA |
| 07.16.09 (2:51 am) [edit] |
Jean taught me this word tonight, and I think it's a really good word. More apt than a simple sucky.
I cannot begin to dispel the unease I've been feeling lately, like the chain of unfortunate events are in fact, just a prelude of what is to come. At the rate I'm losing focus, I might well end up stoned in the path of an on-coming vehicle or something to that effect. Getting to work is already happening. I literally forgot to step off the escalators for the past week till my shoes got pushed off. It's a very uncomfortable experience.
I'm actually a little afraid to leave the house...
Look blog. You've been good. You've offered more answers than I ever had real problems. But this time, I need help to gather myself together again. Like old times. Where flying would have been child's play and going to the moon is a walk in the park. Perhaps that age gap puts me across the cosmos in constant reliance to time and space, but no science can explain what invaluable thoughts run through my head.
I am currently inaccessible to myself. I wish you well.
|
|
|
| |
| FRESH |
| 07.15.09 (2:55 am) [edit] |
New clothes always smell fresh, and the colors always brilliant. At the peak, fruits are sweetest, and all other ripeness follow. Blooms are strongest in their seasons, and scents linger long.
I've been struggling lately with expiry dates. While I doted on the time when I had my youth, energy and freedom, I can't help but feel the burdens of turning older, heavy with responsibilities.
As much as I cannot deny the rights for people to flaunt their youthfulness, I do detest going overboard. Suggestively, I'm red-eyed, I'm just plain jealous lol. No no... in truth, flaunting is fine, just don't tag pride to it - because when the expiry date comes around, the hurt is very hard to bear.
Pretty much sweeping empty roads lately at the studios. Collaborative that starts this Friday should give me something to do rather than idle off my time. I would love to go to the beach again soon, but we'll see what comes. After all, when the world starts eating itself up, I can't help but gets drenched in its salivation.
|
|
|
| |
| HIATUS |
| 07.14.09 (1:29 am) [edit] |
Oh, and suddenly, the world becomes a really boring place. It's like we (people I know and myself included) will all lose something pretty unique and special in our lives, even though it may not have made much an impact to some.
Like they say, the water flows down till it reaches the sea. We all move forward till our ideas melt into one big pool of an agreement. So well, that be the end of a chapter that should never have been written from the start.
I have been missing the beach, the runs, the whatever I used to do tons. Should get back to them soon before I grow all old and useless. It's already starting... =(
|
|
|
| |
| UP THE PUMP |
| 07.07.09 (3:13 am) [edit] |
Frus... keyboard frost a couple times, so can't really type properly. Then the page just totally froze and went out on me... Not a very tech-friendly night for me.
I was kinda mentioning... hmm... something along the lines of... forgetting things I think. Or something about... my head... maybe its just randomness that hit. I knew there was something there. Hmm. Memory banks a faze.
|
|
|
| |
| ROWDY NiGHT |
| 07.05.09 (3:32 am) [edit] |
I was just lamenting to someone that it's been a year of deaths, accidents and incidences where things are really the way they are. So on the way home, as I pulled into the gas station, I kinda wondered why the attendant never did help me out. Dropped the nozzle into the gas tank intake, filled it up, and went into pump store for some snacks and payment. That's when I overheard the cashier calling the manager on the phone, relating the incident of the attendant pouring a few gallons of petrol into the diesel cab's tank.
Fired? I would assume so. Pay dock? Certainly so. Bad night. Definitely so.
Then as I pulled into the last juncture before getting home, a SUV and a cab stopped smack in the junction after a pretty bad collision. I mean, it's a really quiet neighborhood at night, and its really hard to not see each other coming. One was turning, the other going straight. How can they not spot each other. Verdict: loss of focus momentarily.
Another bad night for someone.
I can't seem to stress how a shift in focus, no matter how minute or unintended can be blown wide open these days. My suggestion is: keep safe, stay alert, and definitely definitely put your mind to the things you do. Consequences are too unpredictable.
The final straw? Milk and crackers. That's a fats on a really weak exercise regime already...
|
|
|
| |
| MY NAME iS AS i AM |
| 07.03.09 (3:01 am) [edit] |
I seem to be losing some identity after days of milling over the loss of motivation. Cause: Unknown. Or to put it simply, for a lack of a better word, decompressed.
Met some important people in my life the last 2 weeks, people I've not seen for quite a while. Though the situation dire and grim, catching up was wonderful. Very meaningful in fact in these trying times, when everyone patted shoulders and hollered well-wishes. Doesn't matter the past frictions if any, seems like growing up wasn't such a bad thing after all.
The world reels in with the deaths of 2 power-packed stars in this lifetime. Much can be said about the impact, a temporal respite to the very cloudy economic situation. Better yet, people had a good reason to just let it out.
Undoubtedly, we've lost 2 very special icons of our time. RIP.
With months of sensational reporting over the financial crisis, the critical points of views have finally taken root. Bad news that used to splash across front pages have finally sank in: people stopped buying, holidaying, and even started saving. Well done new media. The impact is so great, you sank the world into financial oblivion.
Now that the impact in itself has halved the jobs everywhere, the media finally realised something needs to be done. Advertising in the prints have practically taken a serious toll, while their listed share prices plummet even more. So now, for the past one week, I've been reading good news.
GSS broke records; property prices bounced back up; shares are climbing; unemployed found placements; COE is staggering upwards; promos are everywhere! And to think the media wishes to disclaim their very hand in helping the financial sector fall apart by salvaging the situation to save themselves: disgusting.
And please don't tell me you haven't notice. Bad news is always good news for the media. Don't bother correcting me. Cos bad news makes money, and has become a commercial entity on its own.
One more thing to lament: for all its worth, H1N1 is statically the most panicky situation ever created through plain dumbness. While the world becomes more educated, the people become less conscious of what really means a lot.
Measles, Pox, Bird Flu, you name it. We tide it through basic caution, and that were all sufficient. Now that cleanliness touches priority buttons around the world, people have become weak. Lack of proper self-maintenance, extreme long hours, fatgiue... honestly, that's not how our bodies were built. We did not evolve. Everything else did. And we blamed this evolution as a bad thing, simply because we couldn't catch up. Pathetic.
In this age of Aquarian, where innovation and creation takes precedence, I can only suggest a route to the lesser evil: stay happy. If your time is up, its up.
Happy night cyberspace!
|
|
|
| |
|
Watch:
What If?"Live"
Roses "Live"
Remember Me "Live"
Polar "Live"
Honk Ok Please
The Toyo Project
Wild Night Part 1
Wild Night Part 2
Wild Night Part 3
Trilogy Trailer
What About Us? MV
|
