coffee break

songs have always been my emotional outlet. from the peaks and valleys of my emotional roller coaster, there’s a song ready to be played as if it was written to be the soundtrack of my life. i take comfort in that, that whatever is happening, a song can eloquently convey whatever i can’t verbalize at the moment.

to my surprise, i have grown a liking to one of the songs from the new album doll domination. and when i say like, i don’t mean dance-like (e.g. magic where i see myself in a contemporary duet with a girl doing all these technical routines). what i mean like is lifestory-like. kantahanlly they’ve grown, but of course they still need the customary shake your ass tracks for commercial viability. sharing a few lines, hope you find this song as meaningful as it does to me.

Take a look in the mirror, you’re beautiful
Take a moment to love the one you are
Learn to accept yourself, coz it’s the truth
Can’t love nobody else, until you love you
(download link)

ne night stand. quickie. fuck and run. the kind that does not require a last name, or even a name. just a smile, nod and wink and boom! your bed, or his whichever is nearer and available.

hat is so casual about sex? letting that person in your apartment, giving glimpses on how you live. you walk pass the living room, complimenting the big ming dynasty vase you inherited from your angkong; trying to make small talk in an akward moment going to your room. inside, a perfectly made queen size bed with a hypoallergenic, 500 count egyptian cotton bedding and goose feather pillows you ordered online. sharing a bed with another person, in a confined space adorned with stacks of books you’ve collected your lifetime and tall zen lampshade wrapped in recycled paper with dried leaves and wild flowers. you locked the door, from behind he reached for your waistband, promising in your ear a goodfantastic shag while slowly working your crisp, white, italian linen shirt off your body. joni mitchell singing in the background from the day when you were reading your book of the week while sipping a glass of pinot, set to muffle the would be sounds made.  and it start, nibbling ear lobes, sweet, tender kisses that turned into passionate kisses, eager hands exploring each other’s body. all clothes are off, 2 naked bodies in unison. no pretensions exist between, only the wanting and lust. kisses led to moans, and to another, and to another until you reached pure bliss. for a brief moment, you showed this other person your most vulnerable; reaching your climax. lying in bed, sweaty against the cold breezes of the air conditioning unit beside the bed. you both get up, and started to get dress. the guy saw your pictures by the vanity of your recent trip with your boyfriend, hands wrapped around each other, kissing. he asked where it was taken while zipping. zurich, you said while putting on cologne from one of the bottles beside the stack of cds at the vanity counter near the armoire. in 2 minutes, both of you were completely dressed. making your way downstairs, pass the living room, to the main door, in complete silence. and he was gone.

ow casual is sharing a bed with another person? it’s difficult to tell, i can not speak for other people. the casualness passed at the time when you let other people in your life. when other people knows something about you, those small details that make you you-how you tie your shoe lace, your ref magnet collection, that patch of hair on your right thigh-you have crossed the line of being casual to, something more than casual. it’s iffy, he knows too little to be a friend but a lot to be just acquaintances; the in-between. but for most people the casualness of a quick fuck is not knowing the other person and the probability that they’ll never see them again. is that it? are we now reduced to wishful thinking of inexistence? haven’t that guy just gave you the best eff-ing of your life? to some, it’s perfectly sane to exchange dna, not names.

guess that is why i am still celibate. i will not be a notch on someone’s list. nor will i be a wishful thinking of inexistence. some people have casual sex because they can, to some it’s about living large. me, i don’t see anything casual in sex. only the illusion we want it to be casual that we believe it to be. smokes and mirrors.

listening to:
Affirmation – Savage Garden: Two Beds And A Coffee Machine

e all die alone. well it’s true. gregory house had something there when he said it. family maybe with you in your deathbed, crying, shedding buckets of tears (if you’re that good to them), wishing you’ll live longer, making sure you’ve signed your will, but you’re the one dying. as much as they want to cry and wail you to life, you’re the one who’ll meet your maker.

nd there’s nothing bad about that. who said dying alone is bad, or dying for that matter. would you have it that you die together with another person? i rather die alone, not miserable though, just alone. no one stealing my thunder, dying a more tragic way than i would; just imagine, competition even in death. that would be more tragic. …still a prima ballerina at dying. i don’t know why people are so afraid of dying. why be afraid? i’ve read a lot of materials saying that most people are afraid to die because they haven’t done all the things they want to. how would you know that you’ve done it all? create a checklist and tick against it? if only it were that simple. and we are that contented not to want what’s on the other side of the fence. you can never be prepared to die, you just can’t. if there’s one thing i’ve learned from dear ol’ life is that it’s unpredictable. it always throws you a curve ball at the most unexpected time. but don’t let this be your reason not to be ready for life; all we can do is to be ready as we can be, be on the top of our game and roll along with the punches. life would be less bitchy that way. and maybe, just maybe, we can be a little more prepared dying.

ately i’ve noticed that when i’m trying to compose a thought, my nimble fingers seemed to type by its own the phrase ‘i hate…‘ without me thinking of anything. i think it’s the negative and pessimistic side of me that is waiting, screaming to get out as if i’m not that negative yet. it seems that i’ve been hating for quite a while now. is this the universe telling me i am a bad person? honestly, i don’t know what to make out of it aside that i hate it, the feeling of hating. see! me being negative again, fuck! i need to move out of this zone, permanently. speaking of nimble fingers, i need a manicure pronto.

listening to:
Doll Domination – Pussycat Dolls: Bottle Pop

All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.
Edmund Burke

   don’t like action films; i swore off from violence-in any form, when i realized that the earth i live in is a working progress. for me to have that world i want, i need to live it, want it, be it and start affecting the change i want, and in the long run, effect change. it may sound absurd, that me not watching violent films will contribute to a nicer earth. but i believe that if we all change our point of view, our vantage point, we will have that peaceful world we all so want and desperately need. i don’t see, and will never get the use of war. killing people, destroying lives all in the name of peace, it’s the biggest irony in the world.

or some unknown reason i was watching tears from the sun starring bruce willis and monica belluci. it’s an action film, more than that, it’s a war flick. it chronicles the genocide of the tribal rulers of nigeria. i was fixed in front of the tv not because of good looking cast, and strangely i was able to bypass all that explosion, grenade launchers, f16s. the movie is not about the war, it never was, it was about the hardships of these extra-ordinary people; the volunteer workers, the selfless soldiers, the victims of war.

s the movie ended, i felt this strange emotion. heavy heart, sadness, happiness, hope… somewhere in this world we breathe in are people dying, not because they are sick or old or chose to, they are victims. and there are people who selflessly help even if it would cost them their lives, trying to make a difference. making a difference doesn’t have to be in a grand scale, it doesn’t have to be the cure for cancer or be in the front line of sierra leone. if you can make a difference to 1 person, that would be enough.

listening to:
Something To Be – Rob Thomas: My, My, My

as it been that long? i guess one never realize how long it had been if he’s enjoying himself. actually, it’s not that i am enjoying-enjoying since i am not doing any one thing in particular, it’s more that i have a  couple of things i keep myself busy with. weekends are now spent on discovering new places to eat. like last saturday i discovered how insanely delish wan chai’s bibingka. wan chai is a chinese restaurant at timogmorato; don’t ask me why they have bibingka, beats me. all i know is that it is something to order when you’re there, ferrino’s is still the best. doing chores, going to the dentist, in fact, i even look forward going to the dentist. it gives me diversions and fills my idle time. one of these days i’ll do my own grocery, that would be a wonderful weekly chore. i’ll get to pick my own food, decide what to eat and start eating healthily. i used to always have cake at my fridge but since i live alone, half of it goes to waste as it dries up after a while.

  forgotten how i love to watch people doing their own thing. i used to spend my sundays at a quaint coffee shop when i was still living in alabang. right after my yoga class, i go to this coffee shop were they reserve my reading nook, book at hand while having venti drip coffee with macaroons or croissant with ham and cheese. in between sipping and reading, i  catch a glimpse of people passing, hurrying to their next destination; a family having dinner being picked up  by a driver, teens being teens, scholars with their laptop doing their term paper. the randomness of people gives me a reassuring feeling that life as it should be, i am where i’m supposed to.

t my age, i learn to love being by myself. going to dinner, having a massage, even to a movie. to most people it sounds pathetic, but really, it’s a wonderful and liberating experience. of course it’s better to have dinner with someone, you enjoy the food and the company, shared stories and love of food. but i never consider being by myself as being alone. i keep myself company, as weird as it may sound, i have interesting conversations with myself. i’m not schizo or anything, i daydream a lot and talk to myself during. once i talked aloud talking to myself while having ginger-lemon tea and crepe, that was an interesting experience. i dreamt that i am having tea with my future hubby at a remote villa in the south of france, which we own. our dogs are running around the vast greens, smell of clam chowder at the stove and homemade focaccia with sun dried tomatos fresh from the oven. my daydreams are far too elaborate and detailed to be real.

t has been that long, 3 1/2 years of single-blessedness.

listening to:
Satellite – POD: Alive