Written Contusions

When I woke up today, at around 1:16 pm, I was hungry and I was in a cross mood. The first question that popped into my head is, "Ma, what's for lunch?" Sadly, since it was past lunch-time, there's no more lunch left for me so I decided to think of something to cook while watching our pet hamsters eat.

The hamster cages are kept in front of my aunt's store so she could keep an eye on the pets while tending to the store. On the other side of the story, I admired how cute they are while contemplating what I would like for lunch, brunch, or should I dare say, my breakfast. That's when I noticed that there are some toasted bread on one of her bread baskets and a spark lit in my head. I knew what I would like for my meal. I decided to cook some breakfast food for lunch.

After getting the toasted bread, I decided to cook a cheese omelet to go with my toasted bread and some caramelized apples to tie in the flavor. I enjoyed my breakfast so I decided to share the recipe.

Since the toasted bread sparked all this in my head, let me start with that. The one I used in the recipe is just plain old loaf bread toasted with margarine and sugar sprinkled on top of it until it gets crunchy all the way through. That's a good choice, I thought, if I wanted to cook this again; I can easily toast some on my own if I can't get any from the store.

As I was walking towards my house, I saw my other aunt eating half of an apple, so that gave me the idea of caramelizing some. When I got in the house, I opened our ref to see the other half and I got it. I just carved out the seeds and the nasty ends of the apple. Afterwards, I cut them into thin slices and I set them aside.

Then, I got a medium sized egg and I beat it in a bowl. I added just a pinch of salt since I'm adding some cheese into it later. As I was doing that, I was preheating some oil in a frying pan. After beating the eggs, I got some cheese and cut a slice. When I got back to the stove, the oil was already hot so I poured in the beaten eggs and I grated some cheese over it. Once the omelet was cooked enough on one side, I flipped it and cooked it all the way through.

I am not a fan of complicated recipes so after I got the omelet out of the pan, I put in the apples and turned the heat low to let it caramelize. I was so excited and I had to be patient because waiting for the apple's natural sugars to come out took some time.I added just a small pinch of salt to help the water come out of the apples. Then, I waited for the apples to turn a bit translucent; that's the time I put in one tablespoon of red sugar and I let it melt a bit. When the sugar was sizzling already, I added two tablespoons of water because I didn't want the apple sauce to be too runny. I decided to reduce the sauce so I got the bread out.

I took the plate where I put the omelet on and arranged the toasted bread on one side of the omelet. Perhaps it took me about four minutes to do that because when I looked at the pan, the apples looked just about done. Smelling the apples made me feel hungrier so I turned of the heat and put the apples on one side of the plate.

I carted my plate off to the dining table and I realized that I just made myself a pretty delicious breakfast. My aunt was there and I shared some with her and she liked it too. In fact, it is so sweet and cheesy that I decided to make some for my sister tomorrow. I think, even the hamsters would like to eat some.

Flying through air,
posted on an envelope,
a butterfly pair
arrives in the mail.

Arhopala anthelus impar:
blue and black
and parantica danatti danatti:
white patterns broken by dark veins.

I held the letter and admired the stamps.
Tearing paper,
carefully unfolding letter
shows red ink
and cursive handwriting.

Wormed through
smudged words,
I peeled the stamps
off the envelope

and let the letter flutter in the wind.

I never thought that I would find the exact stamp that I was looking for. That blue one is really the stamp I wrote about. I just can't find the Parantica stamp. This poem actually came as a surprise from one of my really old blogs and I did not expect to find it yet again.

It was written on May 17^th, 2007. According to my notes, my friend Charisma inspired me to write it. I just forgot the circumstance that brought it on. Nevertheless, I think that it is a good poem.

“There may be a great fire in our soul, yet no one ever comes to warm himself at it, and the passers-by see only a wisp of smoke.”

- Vincent Van Gogh

December 25^th, 2008
Red felt tip pen on drawing paper.

Merry Christmas to everyone! The year is nearly coming to a close and it forces me to think back at the life I've lived so far. It seems that this year is all about changes - adding some, taking away some. Although I really can't seem to smile over everything, I imagine that everything has a purpose in life. I think of it as Santa Claus' gift for me. He gave a gift or realizations which comes to me in three sayings: What doesn't kill you will make you stronger, growing pains, and change is constant.

Perhaps, it is really true; What doesn't kill us makes us stronger. Scientifically, it has been proven that cockroaches have developed immunity over insecticides. When they don't die from the first exposure, they develop an immunity to it and pass it on to their offsprings. Could this be true for human beings? Surely, if it comes to insecticides, it might not really be true. However, emotionally, the idea seems to hold water. I thought that there are some things that are so irreplaceable that I'd die without it but I am still here. I have lost more than things but I am still breathing. My heart still beats strongly. I still smile and laugh a lot. For that, I am truly thankful. I am even thankful for the pain.

Recognizing pain might actually be a good sign. This brings me to growing pains. Once again, scientifically, and this is true for humans, there are two kinds of bone cells: osteoblasts and osteoclasts. One breaks down bones and the other deposits more calcium to make our bone matrix bigger, longer or stronger. It is part of growing. Although it might not really be painful, it is still part of the cycle of creation and destruction. The same thing can be said, perhaps, about our emotional growth. There are some things that we need to undergo so that we may grow. I'd always say, "I am a work in progress." Sometimes, it means that I'd have to get really hurt to learn new lessons about life. This year, I have learned to face those kinds of events and treat them as a lesson from life. It's just a matter of learning it soon enough; if not, life tends to teach us one lesson over and over again until we learn. The pain might just be a marker that we must remember to do the right things or else...

In the end, it all boils down to change - Evolution, as Darwin might put it. Everyday is a new day. Everyday holds something good and bad. I just concentrate on the good most of the time now. As for the bad, I've learned that we must use them and not let it use us. Otherwise, we change into terrible shapes and do terrible deeds; Paulo Coelho said something similar. In a paraphrase, I think he said that when we change for the good, we also change everything around us in the same direction. That is how the Alchemist is able to transform regular metals into gold. I am just thankful for it.

This year, today, Christmas day, I think that I have been given a great gift; more than the Nativity, I received realizations that can help me and life I touch. I am still alive and I am stronger. What did not kill me made me stronger. Painful as it is, pain is a part of growing and in the simplest sense, we change. Hopefully, it is for the better. Change is constant and I just hope that I constantly change to become good, happy, and alive, in every sense of the word. Here's to Christmas. Here's to what Santa brought me this year! Merry Christmas, everyone.

Flowers are pretty on a vase.
Tortoise shell balls resting on the mantle looks shiny.
Crystals on the chandelier reflects rainbows
but each one will succumb to forgetting beauty
when dust settles thick.

June 22^nd, 2005.

Equus means horse. December 4^th, 2008

Post-it. Orange ink.

I really did this on December 5th, 2008. Just as the quote says, "my day does not end until I sleep. I got the idea that it would be a good description to what's on the drawing.

Post-it. Orange ink.

I am still not able to get over the new album of Alanis. In veneration for her, I have decided to repost this music video for Underneath. I love the concept of living inside a human heart!

Underneath Lyrics

Look at us break our bonds in this kitchen
Look at us rallying all our defenses
Look at us waging war in our bedroom
Look at us jumping ship in our dialogues

There is no difference in what we're doing in here
That doesn't show up as bigger symptoms out there
So why spend all our time in dressing our bandages
When we've the ultimate key to the cause right here, our underneath

Look at us our form our cliques in our sandbox
Look at us micro kids with both our hearts blocked
Look at us turn away from all the rough spots
Look at dictatorship on my own block

There is no difference in what we're doing in here
That doesn't show up as bigger symptoms out there
So why spend all our time in dressing our bandages
When we've the ultimate key to the cause right here, our underneath

How I've spun my wheels with carts before my horse
When shine on the outside springs from the root
Spotlight on these seeds of simpler reasons
This core, born into form, starts in our living room

There is no difference in what we're doing in here
That doesn't show up as bigger symptoms out there
So why spend all our time in dressing our bandages
When we've the ultimate key to the cause right here, our underneath.

This is just a poem that came out of my weird play on words. I am not quite sure if I would really consider it poetry but I did decide to go with vanity and put it here. I think, based on my files at least, this poem was written around the time of June 8^th, 2006. If I remember correctly, the first line I wrote was fingernail orchids. Doesn't that sound exotic?

By the way, who would've know that I could find a fitting picture for this post?! Initially, I posted this without a picture but I went and googled using the key word "alien salad" and the perfect image came up. I would like to thank Till Nowak for making this. I found this image in Scott Beale's Site, LaughingSquid.com.

It seems that most of my friends have a hard time in remembering my URL so I opted to register for a shorter web address. Instead of the long http://rchrd-v-8-19.blogspot.com, you can just simply type http://readefinerichard.tk. Isn't that much shorter? I hope that fixes that problem. Feedback is much appreciated. Cheers!

The Queen of Angst is back with another heart-wrenching album called Flavors of Entanglement. Alanis Morissette has successfully made an album that reflects all her different flavors. Flavors of Entanglement definitely gives fans and plain old listeners a surprise with its bold, eclectic and haunting songs.


Richard's picks for this album include Citizen of the Planet, which defines the bold flavor of this album. As the first track, this song definitely packs a wallop of musical intensity. This song is her way of saying that she is back and she is back to proclaim that she is a citizen of the planet. With this song, look out for the line that says "I fly back with my nuclear." For some odd reason, the daring mix of words, coupled with the scalding connotations of nuclear hit a heart-string of mine and it is now etched in my memory.

Aside from the boldness, you'll also hear the same kind of Alanis beats minus the electric guitar. The eclectic mix of sound in her songs now include a sitar and some Indian inspired musical instruments, or so I think. The song writing also offers a vast array of emotions within this album. The first song is triumphant in saying that she is back. Not as We has the introspective flavor that That I Would be Good had. I think that she has already grown up and bloomed into a full woman because she also mixed love in a not-so-gruesome way with In Praise of the Vulnerable Man.

Furthermore, it makes my hair stand on edge because some of the songs are haunting. Who would want to declare a moratorium on their love life? Make sure that you listen to that. Torch and Giggling Again for No Reason also made me feel flashbacks - old emotional time bombs in my heart came back to bite me.

I can't help myself! Call me brash and bold but I would dare and say that this album is the reinvention of Alanis. For me, who goes for everything, this album is a menagerie of eclectic and eccentrically flavored songs that will found ways into my hall of fame. For those who are picky, I am sure that some song in this CD will still give the resistant listener with an LSS or two.

Still can't get enough of Alanis? Check out her website at Alanis.com.

Tracks
Citizen of the Planet
Underneath
Straitjacket
Versions of Violence
Not as We
In Praise of the Vulnerable Man
Moratorium
Torch
Giggling Again for No Reason
Tapes
Incomplete

It was a cold November afternoon. He went out to smoke a cigarette atop a boulder just outside the house.

The sky was still gray; it had just drizzled.

He took out his cigarette, put the butt between his lips and flicked on his lighter. The ember was as red as the sunset.

He slowly took a drag at the cigarette and he followed the wisp of smoke drift into the disappearing greyness of the sky.

Birds and bats were flying together. He could tell because of the way bats flapped their wings; the down strokes were desperately seeking altitude. Birds were darting gracefully like the side stream smoke. One dived straight which brought his gaze back to earth.

That was when he saw it right beside him. It had fur, matted and lutinized. The snout blew out steam like his half-consumed cigarette. The red of the sunset felt ashamed because it was not as read as the creature's eyes so it retreated into the night. The fangs and claws of the creature only differed in color; both were as sharp as the fear that gripped him.

After 10 years of lookong for it, he didn't expect that he would be gripped by a lacerating fear at this meeting. He expected that he will be overjoyed and excited. He was genuinely petrified but there it was. It was as real as the unlikely mix of birds and bats in the sky.

He didn't know who was crazier: he who looked for immortal creatures to talk to or his detractors who said that there were no such thing?

He felt a searing pain in the realization that he was afraid of saying something stupid at this moment - this moment that he waited for all his life. The fear was intensifying as he strugled in his mind to find the right words to greet the long-sought creature. What will he say to it? What can he say that will define the outcome of this meeting?

Then, it bit him; the answer to his questions bled in his mind. He knew what he was going to say to it.

As he was opening his lips to speak, the wendigo said, as if it was able to read his mind, "Do not bother. It does not matter."

John, while talking to you, I said, "Bats and birds flying together. What a nice line," which gave birth to this meeting. November 20^th, 2008.

Published June 21st, 2006.

Give It All Away by Ben Jelen is my album of the moment.

According to my research, he writes his own music and lyrics. The album itself seems to be hung up on a girl but the melodies are good to listen to. Of course, my favorite song is the first song he released, "Come On," which came out with a very weird video where he was playing the piano and people were coming out of it. Other choice tracks include Rocks. I like it because it talks of things that crazy people do when they're in love - or is it the other way around? If you are getting a copy because I endorsed his album, don't forget to check the title track as well, Give It All Away.

Can't get enough of Ben Jelen?

Check his website out at BenJelen.com. This guy is so awesome; he also has a website for his foundation which promotes environmentalism at The Ben Jelen Foundation.

Track List:
Come On
Rocks
She'll Hear You
Give It All Away
Every Step
Christine
Wicked Little Town
Falling Down
Stay
Criminal
Slow Down
Setting Of The Sun

yellow and green feathers
out-stretched wings grasping
air bridging clouds together
fanning away dust, vapor, smoke & mist
with the distraction of flight.

why do you droop like so?
you were spared from worms, earth & decay
be grateful you were plucked from mortality
and is now mounted on permanence.

This is another old poem written by Richard. It was written published in his older blog on June 11th, 2005. For him, this is a glimpse into the mind of a deranged and obsessed person who destroys the object of his love. What does this mean to you? He'd appreciate if you put your own interpretation in.

A dash of flash poetry:

suddenly
the world tilted
like a band
vertical horizon.

fire raining down
from the transposed heaven
on stone

scalded

i clutched the searing
red glow
and found my fingers
charred

and my chest
gaping
like a crater

smouldering.

This was poem was originally written on March 29^th, 2006. Originally, this was entitled Melancholic; that's because melancholy was the emotional weather at that time. Likewise, it says on the first line that this is just a dash of flash poetry. Who said that only prose can be flashy?

Yes! It's another open letter. This time, Richard is writing this out of sheer desperation and frustration regarding the situation.

"Why did this all have to happen that I live in my universe and you have your own?" he asked as he sat in front of his computer.

"All I want is to be your harbor..." was the aptly playing song in the background.

He wanted to post this because you seem to be so near yet you are so far from his reach.

Everyday, he tries to elicit a response from you. He would always be the one to initiate the text messaging although he knows that there will be a danger to his sanity that you will not respond. Lately, you do but it seems that the happiness is too flimsy and fleeting to hold on to. That is what makes him desperate.

Instead of writing this for himself, I had to write this stupid letter for him. He is so frustrated that he cannot even touch his own pen to begin writing. I love his handwriting so much but it seems that you are stopping him from writing, from showing his love for you and most of all, from being happy. That is what makes me frustrated.

The song is now coming to an end as the speakers say:

"fear is the brightest of signs
the shape of the boundary you leave behind
so sing all your questions to sleep
the answers are out there in the drowning deep"

No! Another open letter for somebody who might not even care. Richard is pining away in desperation. He is twisting in frustration but the song was starting to loop back to the start.

Open your cupped hands.

Fluttering away, you will see
the red wings & black markings
fade into the blue.
You will hear at every flap
clapping
from the light bright heart
of your liberated captive.

The wind will take the butterfly away.
You have no need to fret
because the memory will flutter back
whenever you find roses
- drifting in the wind.

Tomorrow, put a smile on & hold this fact true:
If you've held fast today,
you'll only have stains of red & black
- powdered wings and crushed body.
Something will be left - something sure
permanent, indelible, immortal
that neither time nor tears could wear or wash away.

This is still part of Richard's attempt to collect and collate most of his poetry to this blog. This is actually an old poem from March 13, 2005. He wrote this while he was at work.

Richard decided to post this in response to Cecille's comment on Emjay's photograph of a dragonfly.

"I died in a car crash three days ago... ."

After hearing that line, Richard's attraction to morbidity awakened. He asked Raissa about that line and she told him that it was part of a song composed and sung by Vienna Teng. Later, when they arrived in the condominium, she pulled out the CD and played it for Richard to hear.

Instantly, Richard's eccentric musical taste became addicted to Vienna Teng's Music. Out of sheer curiosity and admiration, he researched about her and he found out that she was a so like him in many ways.

They were both Asian. They were both in lucrative careers in their respective countries but most importantly, they both let go of those things to so that they could follow their hearts and answered the call of their passion.

Being Asian is actually just a minor similarity. Richard was just thinking of something to add to his list of similarities with Vienna. Seriously, though it is just a minor one, Richard felt an affinity with Vienna. You may not know it and he may not look it but when he was in college, Richard was always asked if he was Chinese.

"My grandmother on my mother's side of the family is from the Nim family so I guess so. I couldn't really prove it but I want to believe it's the truth," he said to one guy from the business organization booth beside his org's booth during the recruitment period in their university.

Vienna, on the other hand, is pure Chinese, or so Richard thought. He was so obsessed with her that he researched her on the net. According to her website, ViennaTeng.com, Wikipedia got most of her information  right so he believed what he read there. After reading that, he learned that she is Taiwanese! There, he learned that she was as Cynthia Yih Shih and her birthday is celebrated every October 3. When he read that on October 14th, he felt somewhat sad because he wanted to celebrate the day and thank God for creating such a talented lady.

As he read on, he found out that Vienna started out as a software engineer in the Silicon Valley and she graduated from Stanford. Richard thought, "Hmmm.... it seems that she's also like me in that aspect. I'm also in a good paying job." He was working as a customer service representative for a call center then.

"So how did she become a singer-song writer?" he asked the monitor facing him. He tried looking for the answer and according to the official biography he found on Wikipedia, while she was at Stanford, she joined the Stanford Harmonics, an a capella singing group. She studied and wrote her music as well. Reading on, he found out that she recorded her songs and distributed her music around campus. It seemed to him that she was so great that it was just a matter of time before Virt Records signed her on as a recording artist.

Likewise, he was also like that. He studied psychology in De La Salle University. On his first year there, he mustered enough courage to undergo the Malate Literary Folio's application procedure to become a poetry staff. He got in as a probationary staff but to become a full-pledged staff, he needed to get published in the folio. Deadline after deadline, he submitted his works but he never got anything published until he joined the university's 10th Literary Awards. He won first place under the Filipino poetry category. More than the prize money, he found that seeing his name on the staff box of the Lit Awards edition of the folio more fulfilling. However, after graduation, he set aside his writing for a call center position. "Money for food before starving," was his motto then.

For Vienna, the rest was history after she quit her software engineering job. As for Richard, he has just recently abandoned his call center career to become a writing tutor. He figured that he could hit two birds with one stone with this job: he can live la vie bohemme and earn at the same time. He thinks that history will come for him soon. 

For now, he is just dreaming through the noise with Vienna. Her tracks makes him happy everyday. He is inspired by Vienna to continue writing. Realizing that he had similarities with her makes him feel that his time will come.

tea steams in a paper cup.

the siren's song is defied by ears,
leaves and lips that refrain from coffee.

cigarette smoke swirls.

sipping from my cup, showing no fear of heat,
should encourage you to hold my hands.

breath is blown out.

my eyes encouraged your fingers.
tea leaves on cup-bottom already fortells good fortune.

tea steams in a paper cup. cigarette smoke swirls.
breath held back waiting for silence to break
and Starbucks resumes her song.

When I was growing up, I always watched anime. I love anime so much that it inspired my art and concept of beauty. I would usually draw thin, lithe figures when I draw people. In animes, most of the characters there were drawn the same way. Usually, the eyes of my drawings would also be big and round but there are times that I would draw almond eyes instead, so I can add an Asian feel to my figures. Even the hairstyles of my figures would be noticeably asian. I would usually style the hair of my drawings according to the anime that I was watching at the time. Even the clothes of my drawings are affected. Kimonos and obi sashes are among my favorite clothes for my drawings. Since a lot of animes have pointy ears, much like an elf, I would also fashion the ears like that. For me, those characteristics would add up to what I call beauty.

The picture above is entitled "Yukino." I really don't have any particular reason. After I drew that picture of an elvish Japanese girl, I started thinking what to call it and it came to me that I should call her that. It might sound crazy but I could swear I heard a voice from the picture. "What can I call you?" I asked.

"Yukino... ," the picture said to me.

Call me a liar but that's really how I came to get that name for that drawing.

I intended to color that picture but I decided against it because I know that I am not really blessed with a natural eye for color. Sometimes, I would ruin a perfectly good drawing due to a vain attempt of coloring it. It was a good decision actually. I forgot when I drew that picture. Most probably a few years back. I found the original sketch in one of my old portfolios in my book case and since I bought a scanner, I decided to scan it and upload it here. The picture was drawn on oslo paper using a black ball point pen. I guess it took me about 2 nights drawing that because I was never satisfied with just a foreground. The background came in later and if you will notice, the background was blackened by a cross hatched stroke. backgrounds are another bane to my artistic career. Thank goodness that this turned out to be just fine. I hope you enjoy looking at it.

Until next time! Ciao!

These photos are arranged from oldest to newest. I don't have any reason for
posting this. This is just a whim of a really neurotic person. By the way, I am
looking for inspiration because I want to change hair styles. Can anyone suggest
anything?

There are just a few things that I hold dear to my heart. Among those things are rainbows because of the beauty, mystery and hope that it brings. If I were to whittle you into a metaphor, you would be my rainbow. Niji as the Japanese calls it. Do you want to know why? You are my rainbow because you gave me hope, you inspired me but most of all, you tantalized me. You still do, actually.

Whenever I see a rainbow, I feel hopeful. After a dark day of rain, a rainbow will appear and the sun shines brighter after. You appeared while I was in a rainstorm. Through the gray haze of memory, I can still recall you vividly. I can still recall our first meeting. Do you remember when we first met? Off course you do! We just talked about it one Friday evening. I don't know if I can safely say that I love you but I have heard someone say that if something is as heavy as love, the heart can bear the weight. After two years, I am still bearing it. Because of that, I am still hopeful.

Seeing a spectrum after a gray day is totally inspiring. It seems that my imagination is always up in the sky dreaming wide blue fantasies. Sometimes, it is in some forest, looking for some green epiphany growing from the underbrush. There are also some instances where it is under the sea, trying to fathom the darkest mysteries, reveling in the dark. You know those things are true. However, you inspired me to stay on the ground. You helped me come to terms with the gravity. You turned my insane imagination love the reality of life, which I loathed. To some, it may seem that you stunted my growth but for me, you inspired me to reach out to something that I brownly feared.

After all that I have said, all good and true, you tantalized me. You still do. When I was younger, I honestly tried to follow a rainbow because I heard from the television that there is gold at the end of it. I really tried. I don't know if you know the feeling but it feels futile. The harder I ran towards the rainbow, the farther it seemed to be until I tried to catch my breath and when I looked, it was gone. That is how you tantalized me.

Niji, I can still bear the weight of my feelings. I can still flit between fantasy and reality. I am doubly inspired What's more surprising is that I can bear the frustration of being tantalized. Why? Because as I have said, you are my Rainbow, held dear to my heart. I just hope that unlike real rainbows, you don't vanish when I am not looking.

I fear the reaction that this letter might elicit. Nevertheless, I will revel in the idea that I have said my piece.

The inside of a deserted house:
from the window,
light illumines dust
settling to create a blanket
of forgetting over furniture.
Even if the air disturbs
the process, slowly
every particle finds its spot,
a place where it conveniently covers up
some distant memory - on a nearby table

a partial puzzle waits. One piece is still
a lost unsettled edge,indisposed.
The idea that it is the missing piece
completes its sadness.

In only one spot can the table top be seen.

Untouched, unfinished,
the puzzle succumbs
to slow forgetting
what is lost
while dust
fills
the
gaping
gap.

This is a poem I originally wrote on September 17th, 2003. I revised it after five years! It's been a long time since I last read this. I think I have forgotten enough of the emotions behind it so I am now able to publish a revision. Comments are appreciated, of course. Cheers!

This is from a collection called No End of Fun printed in 1967 and was written by the Polish poet Wislawa Szymborska. She won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1996. This was translated by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh. I interpreted it as an ars poetica of hers. I would like you to enjoy this poem with me. Read it aloud. Read like you were reading it for a child. Do it in a made-up voice and don't forget to sip a black, hot, steaming cup of coffee along with it. Enjoy!

Why does this written doe bound through these written woods?
For a drink of written water from a spring
whose surface will xerox her soft muzzle?
Why does she lift her head; does she hear something?
Perched on four slim legs borrowed from the truth,
she pricks up her ears beneath my fingertips.
Silence - this word also rustles across the page
and parts the boughs
that have sprouted from the word "woods."

Lying in wait, set to pounce on the blank page,
are letters up to no good,
clutches of clauses so subordinate
they'll never let her get away.

Each drop of ink contains a fair supply
of hunters, equipped with squinting eyes behind their sights,
prepared to swarm the sloping pen at any moment,
surround the doe, and slowly aim their guns.

They forget that what's here isn't life.
Other laws, black on white, obtain.
The twinkling of an eye will take as long as I say,
and will, if I wish, divide into tiny eternities,
full of bullets stopped in mid-flight.
Not a thing will ever happen unless I say so.
Without my blessing, not a leaf will fall,
not a blade of grass will bend beneath that little hoof's full stop.

Is there then a world
where I rule absolutely on fate?
A time I bind with chains of signs?
An existence become endless at my bidding?

The joy of writing.
The power of preserving.
Revenge of a mortal hand.

For some reason, I cannot stop myself from thinking about darkness and light. Yesterday, I saw several movies on HBO and the opposition of light and darkness kept popping up and kept on grabbing my attention. While watching, I wrote some notes about the meaning of those two words for me but I will need to reserve those for another blog post. What I am really interested in posting today are some of my dark art.

The first picture is of me and the rest were digitally distorted through Adobe Photoshop CS3 Extended Edition. Thank you, CS3, by the way! Because of you, I was able to artistically distort my face and become a monster. Why a monster, though? Looking at the time stamp when the files were created, I found out that I was in the dark phase of my life. Except for the original, the other three were done around January 31st, 2008.

I don't really know why I did this set. I was just exhilarated to try out the CS3, I guess. Hmm, I wonder! Perhaps, I was just trying to concretize the idea that I had, or rather, a question: "How would I look like if I was a monster?" I guess I answered it in those 3 pictures, huh?!

Oh well, since this is just a randomly blurted posted, I will just finish it off right now. I now have to think of some other project to do or entry to post here in my blog.

How convenient for me the rain fell before your tears
affording me to share one last moment with you
under my umbrella.

Every drop, wet
dreadfully cold, taunting you to stay
under my umbra of tempting warmth and dryness.

Your vain effort to stop the rain from falling:
You reached out to catch a drop
on your palm. It still fell, heavy
embodiment of sorrow,

loss

-of the cloud that failed to hold on
-of the wind not being able to return the drops.

Words condensed on my lips,
waiting for the moment
when air gives way to thunder.

How convenient for you that the rain lingered on.
Every word that rolled off my lips
merely fell into the dark
glassy puddle the rain filled
to reflect my bowed head.

Finally, I managed to plead for you to stay.
You nearly did

but conveniently,
the rain went away.

(August 5th, 2003)

This was a poem I wrote way back in 2003. It was originally entitled, "How Convenient For Me The Rain Fell Before Your Tears," but it seemed to be such a long title so I decided to repost that as, "Convenience." As a project, I am starting to gather a portfolio of my works so that I can share my poetry with other people.

Last Monday, the moon was almost full and it was stained with a yellow tinge. I am not really sure if it was still waxing or if it was already waning. Nevertheless, it still proved to be one of the loveliest sights I have seen all week. Contrasted against the dark sky and framed in feathery clouds, it reminded me of a conversation I had with my friend, Jayvie. We were talking about how wonderful it is to be in the light once again. In retrospect, we both experienced dark times and he is so glad that we were both in the light once again.

Jayvie was saying that it is so hard to be in the dark. There, he experienced sorrow and loneliness. He felt he did not have any purpose or direction in life during those times that he called dark times. He absolutely hated the idea.

On the other hand, I felt, and still feel, the opposite towards the dark. I never really hated the dark. Even though we felt the same kinds of emotions, I have maintained a kinder attitude towards the dark. Although I love light, I have also learned that darkness is also my friend.

As I was telling him the other day, my life has always been a cycle of light and dark moments. One of my friends, Cace, told me that I am one of the few people she knows that radiates happiness and optimism even in the saddest or most desperate of times. She referred to me as the sun; this tag felt so relevant to me because under my star sign, as a leo, my ruling planet is the sun. Usually, I am happy most of the year but there are definite times that I really feel miserable and sad. Before my birthday comes, I feel depressed. After that, I usually go back to becoming a star for a lot of people but once December comes, I usually feel depressed again. This kind of cycle goes on year after year.

Even though I feel miserable at times, I never really hated the darkness. If I am a sun during my happy times, I have always thought that I was a black hole when I feel sad. I remember a few dark nights when I cried myself to sleep as I clutched at my chest, believing that there is a black hole inside. If I radiate with happiness when I am the sun, I tend to gain a lot of strength and power when I am a black hole. I guess, it is the idea that a black hole has a great gravitational pull that makes me feel and think I am strong and mighty.

During dark times, I tend to be more creative. I tend to make most of my poetry, although just in the literal sense: at night. I got to solidify most of my principles in life during those hard trying times. I guess, that was back in 2005 when I formulated my own version of the Golden Rule: "Hindi lumiligaya ang taong humahadlang sa ligaya ng iba." During that year, that was also when I got to pull some of my closest friends to be at my side. I got close to Vince, who practiced wicca, and we shared the power of our words. When I asked for advice from Vince, he replied to me in a poem and this is what he said:

Chad,
Hi! Don't feel lost.
Read on:
The light is never lost.
It is vast as the ocean
And we are its
children.
We swim in the darkness
While the light is on everyside,
Mothering us when we struggle.
It is not lost,
But waits to be
grasped
Recognise the love of it
Like a dew saluting the sun
In the
humility of the morning.
-Vincent Oliver

Although it took a while for me to be happy once again, that poem proved to be so meaningful to me that I was able to write a poem and make a whole new blog.

I guess I really need to fall into a cycle of dark and light. I need time to recharge my spiritual energies during dark times so that in times of light, I am able to shine bright, strong and true. I have learned to embrace the darkness as an integral part of life. It may be a cliche but it is true that a star can only shine in the darkest of nights.

As you can see, I have updated the layout of my blog once again. Learning adobe photoshop has helped me create this layout from scratch and I my newly found knowledge has helped me get back into blogging once again. Sadly, I feel selfish about this blog layout so I didn't publish this in Blogskins.

Thanks to PSDTuts for the wonderful photoshop tutorials. I learned a lot. I got to practice through their tutorials. I think it is apparent that the result of the exercises was a success. I will link them to my site when I get the chance!

It's unfortunate, really. I have been sucked in by a vortex of sadness and insolation. I have been in a daze because of the, so far, four deaths of people that are in my generation. I've walked in a contemplative and wary way because I had this irrational fear of death. I figured that if Death was already coming for a 20-year old boy, what would stop him from coming after me?

I'm already 24 years old. I smoke a lot. Wait, that's an understatement; I am a chain smoker. I get myself drunk with coffee, although I also occasionally drink. I don't exercise and I keep myself stressed for long periods of time. I don't really sleep much. Hold on. That's another understatement because I rarely sleep. I have all the risk factors.

I know I have to quit doing all those bad habbits. Life's too short to live waste on irrelevant things.

Before my birthday, I felt so sad. It took a while to recover but I now feel better. Remember, I was writing about my second job? I finally quit working for a call center. I'm now in a day job and I feel fine about it. Although I still can't sleep, I am very happy to just read essays and help students fix any errors on the text. I think this is the start of something good for me.

Life is being good to me right now. By the way, I just noticed that this seems to be a very long overdue birthday post. I'm sorry I am too lazy. Well, there's still time to change.

Recent events have led me to go back into a state that I call Solemnity of Reflection. Because of the recent deaths, the painful losses and the radical changes in my life, I have retreated into a state that calls for reflecting on my life that demands a moment of peace. This started when my friend JaGurl passed away and has been reinforced by the murder of my cousin-in-law.

Although I am really not silent on the outside, in my head, I am trying desperately to calm the raging thoughts. I think I have reached the eye of the storm in me. That storm that other people might call their thought process. I have been in this state for about two weeks now and I think the storm in me is moving once again. I can start to hear the rustling of my hair.

Realizing that I have withdrawn into this state reminded me of my experience with my friend Donna and her cousins. I think it was a few years back. I have graduated from college already but I still kept in touch with Donna. One day, we decided to go to a nearby mall along with her cousins while we waited for time to pass. We were planning to go to a local rockfest. While in the mall, her cousin Dareese noticed that her cell phone was missing. We alerted the mall security and we almost succeeded in apprehending the criminal but she got away anyhow.

At that moment, the reality that Dareese' cell phone cannot be retrieved has finally set in but they were still full of chatter. I insisted that they take a moment to reflect on what had happened but they refused. I guess everybody is just different but I wanted them to have the solemnity of reflection so that something good could come from the negative experienced.

For me, the worst thing that could happen at the moment of a loss or misfortune is never really the event itself. The saddest thing is that a person cannot learn from an experience like that. I don't know if this means anything to anybody but I wanted to share this anyway.

So what really is the solemnity of reflection? It is a time to stay quiet and be still. It is a time to think. A time to look at all that is around you. A time to look to the horizons that limit the width and breadth of the world you live in. For what? That is to learn from mistakes. To listen for a hidden message sent by the Divine. Find the meaning to a blaring alarm that the Universe has sent to us in the form of disaster or unfortunate event. I think that to fail to achieve that state would invite more misfortune and disaster because the Universe will not stop teaching us the lessons we need to learn until we stop and take it in. I realized that the hard way.