why did you have to go through the trouble of waiting for far too long to get me to finally comprehend this: that one has to have a concrete plan?  you couldve spared me,you know, if you only saved yourself the trouble.

you must get such a kick from hearing people in midlife admit how wrong their choices had been, no? otherwise, what else could it be? im not complaining or anything. im just saying.

this morning’s train of thought roused by an ‘army’ movie

enjoying a stick of Marlboro menthol on a cold, not-nimbus-kind-of-cloudy morning after a breakfast of a spaghetti-sauced macaroni pasta with instant brown-sugared coffee while seeing Biloxi Blues on HBO is like a breath of fresh air–nice. well, it was a fine movie to begin with, and not to mention Matthew Broderickbeing ever so yummy and hello unfatboy-slim’s-weapon-of-choice christopher walken.

im now happy into thinking my thoughts away; (1) im thinking about how different the days of old was in re to gentlemanliness, (2) and how nice that mustve been for women back then. (3)im also thinking about how silly it is that they could be so similar and yet so very different, the US army from ours. The US Army it seems to me seems to animate during wars giving an impression of (4) being a rite of passage for American boys; while it is more like (5) the “salvation” for ours. (6) Neither of these, ofcourse, is wrong.

(7) I wouldve been in the army myself, like my father, if it werent for me realizing it too late — having had compromised my health already. I learned how beautiful and carefree the word aloneness is at the tender age of five, how right the word democracy is, and how exhilarating ambitiousness is when exacted from the word greatness as exampled by Hitler and Alexander the Great; these three a fine combination of ideas for the military. but i realized it too late because i was a girl in a very traditionally gendered community. oh well.


I came from a dinner date with friends. One of us cooked a very tasty carbonara with white sauce at another friend’s apartment while friend#3 dropped by to carpool me to the place. My friend’s boyfriend was off work, too, so the five of us managed to halve a kilo’s weight of pasta.

We had dinner at 9pm and was expecting to have the whole thing over by midnight. But we got so consumed with the exchange of office gossip that we didn’t notice the dawn until the morning light came on. The three of us went on our way and I was dropped off first.

While eating corned beef for breakfast with a dance show competition on the television, I can’t help my mind wandering back to our conversations. It went about the usual gossip at any office where everyone gets a chance to share an intriguing trivia to the whole party. As one of them redefined for me the term gossip, (as either something to be tricked into the form of a matter of fact when it is really not or someone asking an intriguing idea from another second-hand source for the purpose of verifying its factness) there seems to be no reason for me then to be so guilty about anything shared and heard in such an unusual method of information dissemination.

But why do I seem ill about it?

Is this what you call depression? I feel so down right now. But why, when I have friends, when I like my job and the people in it, I eat plenty, and when I am able to smoke half a pack of cigarettes all throughout the night without having to feel dizzy or anything like that? Why do I seem to feel blue when I don’t have a real reason to be? When what I feel guilty about is not really something major to be guilty about. But why? And why do I normally feel this way? Any group activity seem to exhaust me and get me to feel down eventually. Why would it seem to me that I always do the wrong thing? Do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing, teach the wrong thing, embarass myself, preaching without the practice kind of thing… Why does it seem to me that I can’t seem to find anything working about me?

Acknowledging this depression this time, unlike dismissing it as a nonvariable in the enumerable past, does seem to help. Because the focus then shifts from worrying about the particulars in the depression (which could be anything like immaturity, irresponsibility, inefficiency, etc) to the factness of the depression itself (that is the awareness of being depressed in itself) and its long-term health risks to the body. But rather than making it worse if left untreated, should I consult a shrink to make my disorder clinical and official for experience? Or should I just keep quiet and self-medicate?

‘arithmetic’ deficit disorder

I realized I have Attention Deficit Disorder. There’s a lot of things that I realize now that I am that I find amusing. But not the ADD. I thought I was just lazy.

My mother is a firm believer of my laziness and had been very keen at always audibly presenting this religion to the very little mini me. Foolish and carefree, I have never thought otherwise. Duh! Spell youth?  But, seriously, how can I? School was boring, textbooks were boring, teachers seemed dull, and I thought people just had to be nice. See, I have learned early on that people seem to find inattention offensive, that rather than be accused of disrespect, I helped myself seem intent on listening to anyone who wants an audience out of me. While, really, I find recollecting yesterday’s events more interesting or fixing in on people’s mannerisms or on teachers’ subject-verb agreement. (If you ask my mother though, on what I find most interesting, she’d answer it ‘relievingly’ with my zeal on getting all the watches and calculators in her house unscrewed and– being no genius– leaving them out in the open, haha.) So having to put up such a front to be too taxing on the mind and body, I just find it fare to spend my spare time freely on things that I enjoy. Freely, that is without having to mind anyone. Freely, meaning having no time for chores that our househelp can do herself. While I remained constant, the variability of the househelp did not. Thus, consequently, my mother’s audibility’s irresponsible variability on my present tense form.

I even thought I was just crazy. I was too nice, too wanting, too temperamental, too curious, too introvert, too wrong. But then I realized that I really am these. And if they define crazy then I am. And so long as I can deal with it, I’d remain relatively safe.

And now that I realized that the inability to focus or look people in the eye, the impossible tardiness, the constant migraines, the mood swings, and the inability to commit are just some of the reasons why life had.. ah.. had been.. uhm.. unsure, nothing. Funny, knowing about what made life unsure, you’d expect life to now become the opposite, right? It wouldn’t really. Haha. Just less unsure. Now, that I find amusing.




Art of Journal Writing

i have always loved writing things down because of three things:
(1) it allows me to see the bigger picture –and this is very important because im better abled in understanding and retaining things if i can visualize them in a table-of-contents-kind of textuality;
(2) when fastforwarding to the future, it becomes a physical platform from which one is luckily allowed to comprehend the secretive existence of metaphysical Time and the exacting nature of the past –consequentially, exercising the ‘know thyself’, the most exciting creed of all time; and
(3), it enables me to comprehend the other forms of beauty of me –which, in my opinion, warrants no explanation and is a proper reason all by itself. haha.

great blog post, thanks for reminding me all of the above 🙂 kudos!

Relocating from the Plains to the Mountains

I am relocating from the plains of Manila to the mountains of Baguio, up north.  Hopefully, it shall become a fruitful new beginning.  I am writing down the things that I should try out and things that I must always remember.  Listen closely, Future Me.

1   Forget the tourist mindset.  Go local.  Know the geography by heart.  Know the public jeepney routes and stops. Remember, friends that are to visit the city will impose on you the role of a tour guide.

2   Learn to let go of your apathy to camwhoring and mobile phones.  The picturesque and warm-peopled city of Baguio does not wish to harbor individuals who does not own a stream of Instagrams.  Therefore, loose your orange Cherry Mobile mobile phone and get a proper one.  Accept that keeping a medieval phone fails in keeping up with the minimalist lifestyle that you are going for.  It, rather, keeps you at the lifestyle of the ridiculously shabby and seriously pathetic. (Ouch!) Remember, friends that are to visit the city will impose on you the role of a photographer.

3   Eat and run.  Go through all the restaurants.  And run the whole city.  Start with Session Road.  Say, make a habit of shawarmas after every run.  Chum up the best strawberry taho maker in town and become his suki.  Remember, friends that are to visit the city will impose on you the role of a food connoisseur. And Im pretty sure they’d want a healthy food connoisseur, at that.  Or else, you won’t hear an end to a litany of words that would begin with “oh my, you’ve grown so BIG since”.

4   Find your spot. The perfect space where you can momentarily leave your material body in while you rocket-awesome launch your mental self off towards an afternoon of Muggle watching or armchair traveling.  With your mobile phone always turned off.  Perhaps, a coffee shop, a bookstore, library corner or a particular tree in Burnham Park.  SM? Seriously?  Remember, friends that are to visit the city will impose on you a LOT of roles.  So know how to be guiltless in keeping off the exhaustion well-meant exhaustion by putting off reading phone calls and text messages.

5   Stay connected [to humanity].  Find time for old friends.  But dont forget to find time to find new ones.  Find the resources to visit the old familiar faces and find the resources to spend a great time with recent ones. Remember, you are not just relocating to a tourist destination, you are RELOCATING TO A NEW BEGINNING.  A new beginning of possibilities!

C for Comprehension

Even before Paulo Coehlo put this into words,
I was already living the life, of: “Don’t expect to get anything back, don’t expect recognition for your efforts, don’t expect your genius to be discovered or your love to be understood. Act because you need to act.

Precisely, Act because you need to act!  I sometimes overdo this to Apathy.  But, generally, cosmic insanity is what drives me.  Oh yeah, curiosity, too, but isn’t this really second nature to big cats already?

So there, rawr!


Cosmic Insanity

But because i believe, too, that ‘to inspire and be inspired‘ is one way to a better humanity (against Angel Satan’s plan of discrediting it), i wear a mask and put up with the world.  This way, I get to go my way (or, in my friend’s word, because “[I am] original”), without having to force anyone to spend any efforts to comprehend me or to impose anyone to grow faculties for such comprehension.  I believe this is what my father wanted me to have, to seem to have it easy.  And I believe this is known to the world, too: either as Compromise or Hypocrisy.

The plausibility of people in different levels of humanity (or hello Ubuntu) is easy to comprehend, however, despite the lack of its practice.  That it does seem to have a calming effect to the nerves, people should try it sometimes.

Granted, it is not always easy to live these words, “Act because you need to act”, the plausibility of ‘people in different levels of humanity’ keeps me from Anarchy.  Specifically, it keeps ‘all’ the me inside from Anarchy.

Manila circa SimSimi and The Magnum Craze

I live alone and I don’t watch tv (i live in the internet, you see), so if something local strikes me popular, either it’s trending in my facebook or the topic came up, trended twice, in my conversations with taxi drivers.

My Magnum experience, however, was somewhat different.  As I experienced it not-so-way before I got curious over it.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to 7-11 to get my week’s supply of socks (aside from having my reasons, the 22cm-long stockings-thin La Camalia socks were perfection).  I was on my way out when the tableaux of the customer after me checking out an ice cream on stick convinced me that having one, too, would make me enjoy the length of the long way back to my apartment.  Between the Magnum Classic and the Magnum Almond, I went for the latter as my mind was in the mood for texture then.  One bite sent me flying to the moon and back.  But ice creams always do that to me, anyways.  So I licked away, to the moon and back… to the moon and back… to the moon and… and before I knew it, I was before the teal green gate of my apartment.  Before I went inside, I made up my mind that it was now to be one of my favorites.

So the next day, when I saw a friend’s facebook status dismissing it to be something so hyped up, loyal me was stirred to react.  Internally that is, since she was merely voicing out her opinion.  She was more aggresively clawing out against her own facebook network who might’ve have overdone their photos of themselves eating Magnum all because it was an overpriced commodity.  Good thing I ran out of coke that day so I was able to stage my retraction of her dismissal: by buying 3 more.  But I was upstaged! Apparently, my friend was right, they are overpriced!  At nearly as twice as much as the most overpriced local drumstick!  Which was where I thought it was around at when I had it the first time (thanks to my silly habit of psychic assumption.) What more, the Classic turned out to be too much of a snob to help me off feeling cross, making me feel cross all the more.  So after I was done with it, once I was inside my apartment, I told the jolly Almond on stick all about it right away, and she took good care of me.  To the moon and back… the moon and back.. the… mmm, yum! Very well worth it, indeed.

I told my best ofismate buddy all about “them”.  And that made her want one badly, too.  Apparently, she never had one and I made her very curious.  The next thing we know, the whole office was also abuzz with it.  The 7-11 in the office building began having them, too, when in fact, while really really on the mood for them just a couple days ago from then, there wasn’t any to be found.  When my ofismates asked me what I thought about the Truffles, I was confused: “What truffles?” And in a pedantic tone: “There’s only the Classic and the Almond!”  It turns out there’s really a Magnum Chocolate Truffle i haven’t played along with.  (Another apparently!) If Almonds are playful and Classic, snobs, what could the Truffles be?  Could it be summer or a cold midnight or could it be homey? I wish it could be kinky or sexy.  OR POOORN!  Oh, please, let it be porn, haha. Ah!  Marketing, you wonderful thing!

On the SimSimi craze, I can’t say much since I don’t really do mobile phones.  (Yep, no Angry Birds noPlants vs Zombies, never)  I’ll just take it based from people’s comments and reactions in my facebook.  Despite simsimi being a “super-advanced chatting robot”, posting a snapshot of their conversation with it is normally foreworded with a note that more or less goes like “since im bored… or since i cant find something else more meaningful to do…” kind of.  Two things off of this: one, that they recognize the senselessness of it all, and two, they love to indulge in their guilty pleasure.

Manila, circa SimSimi and The Magnum Craze, Indulge yourself 😉

The Americans of Mindanao

The Americans of Mindanao
by Ron Eiselstein
March 23, 2012

In 1914, the American government of the Philippines initiated a policy of migration to the vast remote island of Mindanao…

My American grandfather took up the rally cry from Ohio when Ohio’s favorite son President William McKinley defeated the Spaniards in America, but when told he also had won the Philippines, said: “where the hell is the Philippines?” Eiselstein being a proud Ohioan immediately volunteered to go to the exotic Philippines….

article here

Moros and Foreign Muslims with US Officer, 1899-1901