Music Update: Electrique Cools It Down with "The Ice"

Oh well, here I go again planning my next album...

SOMEWHERE IN HYPERSPACE....

Q: There's this amazing gossip that your next album, against all custom, will be a hyped up dance album! Is there any truth in that rumor?

A: That is very true, Q.

Q: Oh wow! What brought in this sudden change?

A: Well, I've always wanted to make something new everytime I release an album. I had the initial idea last sem, while I was making "Reason". That album was, you know, very serious and toned down and I thought: What if I make a completely opposite album next sem?

Q: Oh wow. This sounds exciting!

A: Very. I am enjoying making this album. So much fun!

Q: Since this will be an upbeat album, will there be room for you to share your experiences like with all your previous albums?

A: Not in an explicit manner like with my previous works where the lyrics are meaningful. The objective of this album is for my listeners to have fun - that's all. As I've mentioned in an announcement in Aldasiel's Army, there is a time to be sad and a time to be happy. At this point in my life, especially with the closure which was "Reason", there is absolutely no more reason for me to be emotional. I've vented out my angst, my tears, my wounds. It's time for me to celebrate.

Q: In that case, how will this album be different from "Forca", since it was also a "celebration of life"?

A: "Forca" was a greatest hits album, and hence, I had limited room to really make a unifying theme for it. That album did contain some happy songs but they were not dance tracks. "The Ice" will be made exclusively of dance tracks.

Q: Why the title?

A: When this album is done, it will undoubtedly be my coolest album. Also, it came from the title of the supposedly lead single of this album. I don't want to spoil the surprise so I have to leave it at that.

Q: Do you fear that "The Ice" might be viewed by some as a step back in your music?

A: If they want to view it on surface level. In some ways, this album may even be more mature than "Reason". And besides, just because I classify it as an all-dance album doesn't mean it has to be cheap. I have three rules in selecting songs for "The Ice". The songs have to be cool to the ears, high-powered, and relatively fresh.

Q: I am so excited with this new turn of events in Electrique. Which artists have you enlisted to work with you for this record?

A: I have Kylie Minogue, Britney Spears, Gwen Stefani, and the Spice Girls currently on my list.

Q: An all-girl cast?

A: As of now... I couldn't help it. These artists are the leaders when it comes to popular dance music. Given time, I will of course shift my attention to other artists. As long as the sound fits, I will include it.

Q: Any messages to your listeners who, I am sure, are avidly waiting for this album?

A: Brace yourselves for this one. There is nothing like the excitement one gets whjen listening to a new good upbeat song. I'm sure most of my listeners aren't strangers to this new music high. I assure you, this will be the best dance collection you've ever heard in your life.

Q: Strong words. Whether they be true or not, I can't wait for it to be completed this March!

A: I share your excitement, Q.

***

NOTE: Electrique will conduct soft launches of this album in selected private events across the metro, especially this Christmas season. Watch out.

Remember the Spice Girls

I remember the Spice Girls. I remember the high school days. I remember pop music and how it still defines my musical taste to this day.

I remember the fun and friendship. Those days when I still consider myself young and innocent. From Wannabe to Let Love Lead the Way, I've followed the Spice Girls music. I know all their songs and have all their albums, and I am far from being their number one fan.

I remember elementary school where my classmates were singing "2 Become 1" from a songhits. I remember how I'll always play "Mama" during Mother's Day. I remember how Bubble Gang made a spoof of "Who Do You Think You Are". I remember myself waiting for the radio to play "Spice Up Your Life" so I will be able to record it with my cassette player. I remember how we used to dance to "Stop" and how we listened to "Viva Forever", feeling glum because Geri has left.

Now the Spice Girls are together again. But the younger generation will not be able to appreciate them as much as we did. Because they don't have the memories we have.

The Spice Girls is but one reminder of how much everyone has changed. They say I've changed more than most. I keep saying I've changed for the better yet it hurts to remember who I used to be.

I'm older and still getting older, and people are changing. At least I should be thankful I've had moments I can look back to.

Cheers to the Spice Girls. For reminding us of those days.

Maybe they'll have a spot in my upcoming album.

Bisexuality 101

I have been thinking lately about what the biological purpose of homsexuality and bisexuality is, and after doing some research, I have actually found that it is very prevalent among animals (and I'm not just referring to hermaphroditic species.) It seems that nature uses bisexuality in order to control the animal population. For example, hormone levels, depending on the season will encourage an animal to mate with either the same or the opposite sex. There are other cases wherein some animals simply choose to mate with those of the same sex even if the opposite sex is available.

[Sidenote: R. C.'s will really find it difficult to dodge this attack on their narrow beliefs]

Wikipedia mentions some bisexual history, including those of Japan and Greece. Spartans were actually encouraged to develop homosexual relationships while young, believing that "love" with each other will enhance their battling abilities. And in Japan, there's a practice called sho-something (I forgot) wherein a young man entertains an older man. There's even a jar relic from Greece depicting a man about to have sex with another man while another man watches (Wikipedia will satisfy your curiosity.)

Anyway, here's a sort of Q & A I got from the net. Maybe this will open your minds a li'l bit more. I find this really enlightening myself:

What’s Your "Bi-Q"?

Many of us who are straight, gay or lesbian have limited knowledge of what it really means to be bisexual. Unfortunately we have all received lots of inaccurate information or no information at all about bisexuality. Here are some commonly asked questions with answers by the Bisexual Resource Center (www.biresouce.org).

Q: So what exactly is a Bisexual? A: A Bisexual is someone who is sexually and emotionally attracted to men or women (and some would say to all genders).

Q: So they're equally interested in men and women?
A: Not necessarily. Some are, some aren't. Some say they're attracted to men and women in different ways, others say gender just isn't relevant to who they're interested in.

Q: Doesn't being interested in both genders mean they're only half as interested in either?
A: Most Bisexuals will probably say that when they're interested in someone, they're interested in them 100%.

Q: Aren't people really either heterosexual or homosexual?
A: No. It's well recognized in medical and psychological circles that bisexuality is a very real and genuine sexuality. But anyway, there are plenty of Bisexuals around who can tell you that.

Q: Isn't it just a phase?
A: No more than being heterosexual or homosexual is.

Q: But isn't it a transition to being lesbian or gay?
A: Maybe for some people. Some lesbians or gay men "come out" as Bisexual first, but most Bisexuals remain bisexual for the rest of their lives.

Q: But surely they're just confused, they haven't made up their minds yet?
A: Don't make the mistake of assuming there are only 2 options to choose from. Bisexuality is an option in its own right. A lack of information about Bisexuality is probably the cause of most confusion a bisexual might feel.

Q: Didn't Freud think we're all Bisexual?
A: Not quite - Freud thought we were all born Bisexual, and may develop a preference later in life. No one is really quite sure about this, but most people have had at least some feeling for both genders at some stage in their lives.

Q: Suppose I have - does that mean I'm bisexual too?
A: Strictly speaking, maybe. But what you call yourself is up to you. Some may feel the attraction they feel for one gender isn't enough to call themselves Bisexual. Some people have other reasons for not identifying as Bisexual, as well.

Q: Like what?
A: Some people may want to feel "normal" and think of themselves as heterosexual. Others for political or social reasons may wish to identify with the Lesbian & Gay communities.

Q: Doesn't the term "Lesbian & Gay" include "Bisexual" as well?
A: That's a hot issue for some people. Some people think so, but there are plenty (bisexual and otherwise) who disagree. Lesbians fought for the right to be explicitly named, because they felt invisible. That battle is still going on for Bisexuals.

Q: So why aren't the Bisexuals more visible?
A: Well, no-one walks around with "Bisexual" stamped on their foreheads. It's very easy to miss them. If you see 2 people of the same gender kissing, you don't think to ask if they might be bisexual. And they might be. Similarly, if you see a man and a woman kissing, either of them might be bisexual, too.

Also, there's a real lack of information about bisexuality in our libraries and the media. And there are very few organizations that specifically address Bisexual issues. Some bisexual people have felt as if no-one knows they even exist.

Q: Haven't they received a lot of publicity for spreading AIDS?
A: Bisexuals have been targeted as scapegoats by people who think of AIDS as being a "Gay disease." Bisexuals are thought to be a "bridge" group between the heterosexual and homosexual communities.

Let's get things straight (forgive the pun). One thing spreads AIDS: taking someone else's bodily fluids (like blood or semen) into your body. The AIDS virus neither knows nor cares what your sexuality is. Safe sex will go a long way towards helping stop the spread of AIDS, and everyone - bisexual, straight, or whatever - needs to pay attention to that.

***

I saw a shirt once saying "Smile if you're gay". Haha. But I wasn't brave enough to wear that. And I still am not. But I am satisfied with how I express myself at present.

The Fire Escape

These days, the faculty room is agog with piles of exams, postlabs, formal reports to check. Stress levels are high. Instructors cramming for the deadline for the submission of grades, their hands smudged with red ink. Microsoft Excel in laptops wherever you turn. Instructors making exams, shuffling through books and piles of notes and previous exams, debating with each other about how difficult or how easy the exam should be. Instructors themselves studying for their own masterals exams. So much paper everywhere that it appears I can almost swim in a pool of lab reports.

My table is undoubtedly a mess. In fact, it's the messiest one in the faculty room at the moment. Towers of old papers piled so high I'm in danger of being crushed beneath them. Farewell tokens given to me by my students in danger of being lost beneath the dust. I've jokingly told my colleagues that there might already be living things (cats or some other) housed underneath all my stuff, and that if I suddenly vanish, it means that I simply got lost among my things.

Always, I've set myself a date when I'd clean and sort all those papers but I just can't have the heart to rummage through my past students' lab notebooks and papers. Foolish. I don't want to be overwhelmed by flashbacks and memories. I can't throw them away. Somehow, it seems better to just let them lie there, though I know sooner or later, I really have to organize my things.

So many papers for me to check. So many tasks and duties. So many responsibilities. So many names... and memories. Gone.

Amidst the busyness of my colleagues and the clutter of my own table, I found myself walking through the back of the faculty room. I unlocked the barred forgotten door and walked out into the open air. I was again, on my own in my special place. The secret fire escape.

I rummaged through my pockets and brought out my smokes and my lighter. Smoking has been forbidden in UP, and it has become increasingly difficult to obtain smokes much less to smoke in the places I used to frequent. I lit a stick of my staple Marlboro Menthol and inhaled the smoke, hoping to be relieved of my present worries. With my earphones on, my relaxation was complete. A sigh of contentment escaped me as I listened to music from my albums, My Own Radio. A simple pleasure I enjoy fully.

"It's Britney, bitch..." my Walkman fone told me.

I smiled and stared at the sky as I momentarily forgot about my duties, alone in my own haven, cigarette smoke coming up in spirals and swirls around me.

On the other side of the wall, time continued to pass.

The Best of Dusk at Red Island

I can die anytime, any day. But I don't want my ideas, my thoughts, my stories, and the lessons I've learned to die with me. I want to leave them behind because I want to leave a mark of my existence in this world. I want to make a difference, no matter how little that might be. I want to record my life while I can.

Maybe, somebody may learn something from my stories, my experiences. Somebody may be touched. Somebody may relate to it. Somebody may be inspired, and be changed or stay the same. When I die, somebody might take after me, and continue this blog.

Today, I am celebrating this blog's 2nd Anniversary. This is a really special event for me because this blog, "Dusk at Red Island", as I've already mentioned in some of my earlier entries, is already a big part of me.

Over the last year, I've undergone several drastic changes in my life. It was baby's year. I was much happier with him with me, so I was able to shift my concerns to other issues like my family, and my personality. The problems I've had with my sexuality, or my angst angainst society's unfair treatment has been diminished by a slowly dawning acceptance of myself.

Lovewise, this blogyear featured quite a large number of loveydovey entries for my baby. Though I still wrote some entries about Hunter, they diminished towards the last quarter of the blogyear. There were also entries about the short summer "fling" which was Alpha, as well as a couple about Chiyo and even ChieChie, who by-the-by, is now married.

Blog Statistics:

Overall number of entries (including this): 224
Entries for this blog year (including this): 101
Average rate: 8.3 entries a month
Overall number of comments (excluding my own): 354

Entries with most number of comments this blogyear (excluding my own ones):

Please feel free to read these entries by simply clicking on the title.

"Alpha" 13 comments
About how a person who looks like someone else can make it harder for you to forget.

"GF2BF" 7 comments
Hey grandma, this is my new love. He's a guy.

"Exam Blues" 7 comments
A typical UP entry.

"D the Dermatologist" 7 comments
Confidence and vanity.

"Ang Krimen" 7 comments
Having your fone snatched... the third time.

"Sana" 7 comments
When the person you've wanted for the longest time suddenly sits beside you on a jeepney ride.

"Zukkyun: Alpha 2" 7 comments
(Description given below) Mabenta talaga ang alpha entries.

BEST ENTRIES PER MONTH

2006
October: "AloHOMOra!"
My funniest entry to date. For mature readers only though. It's about sexualizing the Harry Potter series. Hehe.

November: "One Click"
One of my favorite love entries of all time. This summarizes everything about what happened between me and Hunter and how everything went to an end with just one click.

December: "A Reason For Religion"
A mind-opening entry about death and religion set on a funeral of a relative I hardly knew.

2007
January: "The Count's Tale Epilogue: An Eye For An Eye"
The epilogue which came six months after the last chapter of my first attempt at a fiction series. I got more praise for this entry after I have printed it and given copies to my friends last month. A fitting end, though tragic.

February: "Paglimot"
Ouch. How bitter and hurt can I get more with this one? Emo to the nth level (but with a cause). I highly recommend this one.

March: "Paano Maglaro ng Frisbee"
About me and my students. Our special relationship symbolized by a frisbee game played in Sunken Garden.

April: "Sundo"
A story about waiting for your loved one, set in a train station and the things you realize in between arrival and departure. One of my better-inspired entries.

May: "Zukkyun: Alpha 2"
About growing up and facing the truth. Learning the hard way that no matter how you make yourself (or others) believe, some things can never come true.

June: "Sa Motel 2: With Love"
An... educational story. No need to say more. And don't ask for Part 1 that's way funnier than this!

July: "Day of Days"
Written while I was drunk, this tells about one of the best days of my life - touching most issues which define who I am today.

August: "Ruins"
There is no place like home. Probably because no single place can describe your family better than your own place. Here's what happened to ours.

September: "Breeze"
A simply-told tale about independence and how it makes you vulnerable. How who you are now is shaped by what has happened to you in the past.

Another year has passed. Another year of getting older, taller in more ways. It's one of the advantages of being a regular blogger/writer - you can really see how much you've grown. You can look back, and compare yourself to who you are right now.

I've been lucky to live this long, and I will continue to value my remaining days by recording my life, be it through my albums or through this blog.

Thank you everyone.

I'm A Shark

This entry is made for more personal uses. I just had to post this here. This was taken from a test I took in www.web.tickle.com. I like this because the result fits me to my toenails.

How You Approach Life
You, Shark, are a savvy adventurer bent on the path to success. You work hard in your outgoing way to make things happen. You have a lot of energy, like to think in the abstract and tend to focus on how you can move up in the world.

You've got a robust love of life that draws people to you and you have a killer instinct people both fear and respect. Your mantra is "work hard, play hard" and your innate magnetism helps camouflage any minor flaws you might have. Everywhere you go, people think you're important — they can't help it, you just carry yourself that way. Because of this, you care about your appearance, too. After all, it's a direct reflection of both who you are and how successful you are.

You live life for the moment and it shows. You're extroverted and love being in the spotlight. People admire your personality — particularly because beyond your smarts, you're flexible and friendly.

Professionally, you manage yourself well, are innovative, and are a great self-starter. That makes sense since above all, you want to make sure that you reach your goals quickly so you can set new ones.
Keep at it, Shark. You're on the path to a wonderful life. In fact, you might already have one.

How Others See You
People see you as down to earth with a free spirit. You convey your genuineness to others with your ability to focus on what counts — you are not easily swayed by superficial things. You also don't act in fake ways to “get ahead” or to look better than others. People notice that about you and appreciate it. People intuitively trust you with their secrets. They can see that you are not judgmental, and that appeals to many. You are open and free, yet grounded in the things that really matter.

Communication Style
You enjoy conversations that are lighthearted, pleasant and agreeable. Low-key connections with like-minded people are one of life's pleasures for you. You sometimes are baffled by the fact that some people intentionally pick arguments. How can they be so sure of themselves when every issue has so many aspects? You would never want to come across as so aggressive. You especially don't like domineering, blaming people.

Your Romantic Life
You have high standards for love, believing in one love that outshines the others. To you, successful romance has two aspects: an emotional connection based on mutual care, and doing things together that you and your partner both love. You're happy with someone who enjoys the unexpected as much as you do. You'll both be excited at the prospect of situations with an unknown outcome. You and your well-suited mate enjoy high quality conversation and fulfilling experiences together. You are deep, sincere and willing to take emotional risks. You succeed in romance when you use your intuition and intelligence to choose someone whose compatibility with you goes deeper than the surface.

You At Your Best
When you're in the presence of others who care about you, you relax and really shine. Supportive, safe interactions with people who believe in you are an important step in your unfolding path towards more confidence. You'll thrive in atmospheres that are calm and quiet. When you feel soothed, you can tune into your real thoughts and reactions. By creating a peaceful environment for yourself, and by slowly building up your confidence, you will be able to enter the world more fully and share the amazing person you are.

Achieving Success
You are capable of more than you think. At this point, your most important task is to explore just where your greatest talents lie. You're not prone to care a whole lot about getting ahead of the game or looking good in an expensive car. You're looking for other kinds of success. So cast a wide net as you try out possible jobs, activities, and areas of interest. You're bound to learn a lot about yourself, the world and what excites you. Keep an open mind, a positive outlook, and above all, don't sell yourself short. Armed with self-knowledge and a good attitude, there's nothing you can't do.

What Really Motivates You
For you, the chase is the reward. You are motivated by challenge, excitement, the chance to test your obviously ample abilities — and to get that coveted adrenaline rush in the process. You love to use your mind, so you're always looking for your next learning opportunity. If you know that a challenge includes difficult, abstract thinking, you're intrigued and enticed. Motivation for you is inspiration. There's no end to the energy you'll find when given the latitude to pursue your dreams creatively.

Conflict
Conflicts are fairly rare for you, but the ones you have are emotionally difficult and personally disruptive for you. This is because you have a natural ability to rise above petty issues, leaving conflicts and problems for the issues that really matter. So, when something is bothering you, it taxes you on a deep level and you feel that the stakes of resolving the issue are high. It's not surprising that you tend to become worried and preoccupied until the problem is solved.

Getting Unstuck in Your Life
Gradual change is the best way for you to move out of stuck or uncomfortable places in your life. Build your confidence by working on one or two relationships that already feel fairly secure. Look for ways that you are comfortable, areas of life where your footing feels sure. Start to reach out from there and take some chances. You are likely to find yourself frustrated and disappointed if you make sudden or dramatic changes, putting pressure on yourself to make sweeping transformations. Better to nurture yourself gently, using slow and steady movement. That way, once you get where you're headed, you'll feel at ease and authentically there.

***

Tests like these are so refreshing. I like it when someone understands me so well - even if it is only a personality test.

Music Update: Reasons to Listen to "Reason"

The embodiment of Electrique Records, Sir Bry Aldasiel was given an ambush interview by Rioters as he was making emote near UP Diliman's Sunken Garden. As expected, he was smoking and listening to music while looking at his surroundings in a trance-like manner induced by too much smoking.

Q: Mr. Aldasiel, what can your listeners expect from your 9th album, "Reason"?

A: There's a lot of maturity in this album. Each song has an independent feel. They contain themselves, whether they be happy or sad ones.

Q: What is this album's theme, if there is any?

A: Basically, the album is about letting go of someone you have held on to for so long. The album illustrates this point very effectively, in my opinion.

Q: Were you influenced by personal experiences in the making of this album?

A: Yes. I have always made my albums personal. You should know that.

Q: Would you like to share that particular experience?

A: In essence, it is about myself. About how I let go of this person, who for a long time has resided in a special place in my heart. It's about me and him. Hunter.

Q: Intriguing. So does this mean that the album will be dominated by sad love songs?

A: Sad songs yes, but not your typical love songs. Of all my albums, this is the one which contains the most number of unreleased and relatively unheard of songs. I've done a lot of researching to come up with the songs in this collection. At the most, my average listener will be familiar with only two or three songs.

Q: Wow. So this will be dominated by really new songs. How do you expect your listeners to react to that?

A: My greatest fear about this album is that I'm afraid my listeners will get bored with it since most songs are slow and trance-like, and they are unfamiliar with them. Unlike my last two albums, this doesn't have as many catchy rhythms. There's a sort of a dark magical feel throughout the album which makes it impossible to include "dancey" or groovy tracks.

Q: "Light" was an immediate success because it was very easy to listen to, the type of album you can play everyday and make you feel great. It was so light. Most critics say that that was its strength. What is "Reason"'s?

A: Its maturity. There are songs in my previous albums, which after some time, I regret to have included in the collection. For this one, all songs glow with a certain "classy style".This album's target audience is the slightly older ones. Those who are really into music. Only those people, I think, can appreciate the album fully.

Q: Have you given advanced copies to your close friends? If so, what were their reactions?

A: Some said it was, indeed, my most mature album. They enjoyed it, though some wouldn't say it was my best one. One of those who got advanced copies told me that she liked "Forca" better, although that is understandable since she hasn't listened to the albums that well yet. "Forca" is catchier, and will get immediate fans. "Reason" is the type of album which grows on you, and hence will be remembered longer than my other albums. That is, if they listen to it often enough.

Q: Were you satisfied by the final lineup? I've heard that initially you've encountered difficulties in this one.

A: My first problem was that I was trying to stick to a theme which will unify all tracks and that was a problem then, because the tracks are yet to be trimmed down. I've done my best with the final list and I am satisfied with it. I got help from my friends in choosing the final songs. They made it easier for me to eliminate songs.

Q: Can you say that this is your best effort to date?

A: I am not sure. I think my other albums were really good too. But if I were asked to pick my top three albums, I'd definitely include "Reason".

Q: What would the other two be?

A: "Lovely" and "Light".

Q: Last question, why name the album "Reason"? Is there a particular track where the title came from?

A: No, there are no title tracks. I think there isn't even a song with the word "reason" in the lyrics. I've thought of the title some months ago. It just came to my mind. It is a word with many meanings. There are many reasons why I called it "Reason", and I'll leave the listener to figure it out.

***

"REASON" will be released this Sunday, 30 September 2007. Ask for copies now if you're interested. Five free copies left to give away. These copies are, of course, not very easy to make, so please avail of the copies only if you're really interested in the album. Make sure that you will give the album justice and not just leave it lying around covered in dust.

Solemate

"Reason", my 9th album is to be released this Sunday. I'm listening to it right now to get myself in the mood for writing this entry.

It will always be one of my peculiarities I guess - making albums for my friends/students. I haven't met anyone who does this regularly, and distributes them to as many people as I do. Makes a big fuss about it like I do.

Making albums makes me sad in some ways. It makes me realize how lonely I am in this world. How one of a kind I am. How freaky I am. Sometimes it feels good - to realize that there's no out there like you but...

You know, sometimes when you're walking around the campus and you're thinking how come you haven't met that person who is so much like you. How come I haven't met that person whom I can share everything I think of, who will not laugh at my crazy ideas, who will be genuinely interested in my writing, my albums, my thoughts, my feelings. Someone who really gets me 100% all the time.

Your soulmate.

How come I haven't met my soulmate yet?

It just makes me sad, you know. Like after all this time, deep inside, I know that I am still very lonely since I am not able to share all my special thoughts to someone who really understands me. Someone made of the same dark deep emo stuff I am made of.

Is there someone like me out there?

But despite this lonely feeling, I know that there are a lot of peole who cares for me out there. I have a lot of real friends spread out in the universe.

Maybe if I sum them up together, I'll get to know my soulmate. Like parts of my soulmate reside inside my friends.

Like Horcruxes.

So I should kill them all then? Haha crazy.

Still, this doesn't change the fact that 22 years of living hasn't brought anybody completely inside my imaginary world.

Maybe my brother would have. If he was still around.

Hell this made me sad.

Weeds

I am walking through the garden in my mind. There are weeds. I look at them and I pull them up. They keep springing and I keep pulling them up. I have to do that occasionally, otherwise my garden will be outgrown by them.

I asked god to help me clear them up. I asked god, but he wouldn't answer. He wouldn't answer. So I have to work by myself and keep pulling them up occasionally.

I am tired. I get tired. Because new weeds keep springing up. It's something I have no control of. I pull the weeds. Because I have to and I need to.

I am waiting for god's answer. I am waiting, although I know he wouldn't answer me. It just hurts me really bad when here I am, just wishing to fix things up - make my garden weed-free. All good intentions. And god doesn't acknowledge it. I am a worm in his eyes. And a worm is how I feel whenever he does that to me.

I keep pulling weeds, they don't have a place in my garden. I pull them up. I pull them, and I am so tired it makes me cry. I am so tired because I have to keep a straight face as I pull weeds in my garden. I am so tired, and I don't learn enough. I know tomorrow my garden will be weed-free. Tonight there might be weeds. Tomorrow there will be none. Time is my friend. But when they're here I pull them up because that is what I should do.

Somebody told me that I should pick the weeds and keep the flowers. Somebody told me that. Sometimes I agree. Sometimes I ask myself why I should keep the flowers in the first place.

I pull the weeds. I pull the weeds. I pull the weeds so I can think of nothing else. So I can feel nothing else. I pull them, and I get so tired it makes me cry. My tears fall on the ground and new weeds spring up before my eyes, absorbing my fallen tears. I pull them out and stop my crying.

I wish I were somewhere else, far away from here.

I went inside the house in my mind, and came back carrying flowers. I throw them away on the ground since they're not worth keeping.

The next day I found weeds growing from the dead flowers.

I pulled them up. And I asked god again to stop them from coming. I know he wouldn't answer, but I'm hoping he'll relent.

And I'm still waiting. Still waiting as new weeds spring up before my eyes. I pull them. And I am so tired, but I pull them.

I pull them.

I pull them.

I pull them because I don't have any other choice.

And I am so tired. I am so tired.

But I pull them.

I pull the weeds. I pull the flowers.

Warnings

It was one in the morning and we were walking along Edsa, passing through Guadalupe bridge where death awaits us if we move a few more inches to the left or to the right. One slip, one stumble - and we might die. The whole scene shouted of danger, with the buses zooming fast on our left and the mighty river gurgling to our right,  yet we were walking still. As long as we're together, there is a chance of safety and mutual protection.

My heart was tight as I looked at you, and I recalled what happened a few hours earlier. How I numbed myself, listening to you speak to me as if for the last time. How I realized that I've been treating you unfairly. How I broke down after and how you comforted me with hugs and kisses.

It was a wild night, with my emotions going through a rollercoaster ride inside my chest... How I was flying when you told me (without my urging) that you'd spend a part of the night with me. How you told me that you were not pleased with me smiling sideways at you along the street. And how an hour later, we lay on the bed not touching each other.

***

"I just don't want to be unhappy again," I remembered myself saying as the tears unwillingly poured down from my eyes. My crying reflexes were quite faulty - it's been a long time since I cried like that. And at that moment, I remembered who I used to be. How dark my world was when I was alone. And how different I am now with you in my life. The need to cling to you. The need, not the wanting.

And so why was I pushing you away when you've done so much for me? I cannot understand myself.

***

Hopelessness. Was what I felt when it dawned to me that you might break up with me. In spite of the fear, I strangely felt natural. It seemed like I was back in familiar ground. My territory, where Sadness, Grief, and Loneliness, my long-time friends are waiting for me. I was no stranger to despair. I felt like I knew I'd always end up alone and the possibility of you going away didn't seem a nightmare but an already foretold conclusion.

It felt like my life was simply moving on - that breakups are but natural and periodic occurences in my life.

But despite that knowledge I was scared like hell thinking of what could have happened.

***

In UP dormitories there are signs near the entrances shouting that "YOUR STAY IN THIS DORMITORY IS A PRIVILEGE" painted in large black and red block letters. The first time I read that I was surprised at how blatant it was. At how it seemed a harsh reminder to the dormers. How unnecessarily intimidating it was...

It is only now that I realize how important those signs are.

"YOUR STAY IN THIS RELATIONSHIP IS A PRIVILEGE"

A bit harsh but true nonetheless.

White

I am sad as every winter is inevitably sad
I am cold as every winter is inevitably cold
My white heart is as icy as freshly fallen snow
My red soul is as gusty as the freezing wind's blow

I was born a melancholic and perhaps will die as one
I was born a masochistic, in my wounds I see my fun
I was born to chase forever the pure brightness of the sun
I was born to run forever, never resting, getting none

I have lived to see my loved ones fade amidst the dawning gray
I have lived to see my dreams approach then slowly fade away
I have lived to see that dead ends lurk in every path I take
I have lived to hear, to taste, to feel, to relish my decay

I have seen you cry in no man's land, a welcome in your arms
I have seen you try and lift me from my limitation scars
I have seen you fly and anchor me in heaven with the stars
I have seen you die in agony, your blood hot on my arms

I have witnessed golden lamp lights flicker bright then out they go
I have heard of many anguished cries forgotten long ago
I have made mountains of ashes out of flowers I once grow
I'm an avalanche of hatred burning deeply, mild as snow

I am nothing like the Bryan, the stubborn son my mother knows
I am nothing like the Bo, the child, the nerd, they used to know
I am nothing like the Bry, the changed, the man that they now know
I am hidden, I am nowhere, I am no one that you know.

Lab2Love

Sigh. September is here. It's almost time for me to say goodbye to my students. To my newly-found friends. Again. Just this afternoon, I invited my 150.1 students to hang out with me in Sunken Garden. It was a bit off though because it wasn't really planned beforehand and most of them had other things to do. But they still came. All of them. And I was really grateful.

Yesterday (Monday), it was my Chem 16 class I was hanging out with in the same area. I got to know them better. I made them share stuff about themselves. Every one of them. I told them, "So that it will be more painful for us when we say goodbye." Some laughed, half-heartedly. Those who simply shifted their eyes and kept quiet probably knew I wasn't lying.

These past few days I honestly feel like I'm always running against time when I think about my classes. I feel that I'm always hurrying. It's like being two years as an instructor has ingrained sembreak in my biological clock. Sembreak means goodbye. Sembreak means pain. Again. And again.

One of the many many things I've realized and accepted as true is how who you are now is a direct consequence of the things which have happened to you in your past. I remember a period in my high school when I was positively shunned by my classmates. I felt like nobody wanted to be with me. I was circling around different groups, moving from one to another whenever I feel like I'm not welcome anymore.

It was just a period though. After a while, I found my own high school barkada.

Perhaps that "isolated" feeling stuck with me all these years and it made me too clingy with my students. Too hurt whenever they go. Whenever the sem ends and they move on, faster than I can. Because I know that they will meet new teachers and they will be busy with other stuff. They will forget. Some of them.

So what do I do? I make the best of the time we have. Whenever I have extra time, I discuss other stuff. I try to share with them what I've learned in love and life. We both know that those lessons are way more important than chemistry. Every minute really counts because once the sem has ended, it's all gone.

Some nights, I lie awake thinking how difficult it is for me. I remember every sem, every class. I remember how happy we all were everytime we meet. To them, I'm just one person. When I go, it is easier to keep in touch. Easier to forget. But what about me? I've already lost hundreds of them. And I'm about to lose more.

So many faces I remember. So many moments. So many laughs. How can you not be sad losing those? Some teachers must have hearts made of stone!

I keep telling my students that if I were rich, I'd have a really big builiding where my students (past and present) may stay. We'll have nighly review sessions in spacious, well-lighted rooms. I'll try to help them with their other subjects. We'll have parties, inuman sessions, neverending yosi breaks. Loads of bonding activities...

I wish they could all stay with me til the end.

***

But some mornings, when I wake up to find my fone brimming with quotes from my past and present students... Days when I get Friendster comments from my past students saying that they miss me. Some days when I'm walking around UP and I am greeted by my students left and right. Days when I am smiled at. Days when I am hugged just because they saw me again... It's worth more than any amount of money you can ever give me.

***

And some people wonder why I'm still a teacher when I can get a higher paying job? Some people think I'm a fool for being a UP teacher? They can brag about how rich they are, but can they brag about how happy they are? I just laugh at them.

They don't feel what I feel.

:)

***

The tears I shed for my students always pay off in the end.

Breeze

There was this big storm once, some time in the late 1980's. A family of four was wading through the flooded Buendia. The jeepney they were riding on had to stop because it could not pass through the deep water. They had to walk the rest of the way to the LRT station.

For the adults, it was an easy wade through knee-deep water. It was early afternoon, and there were a lot of stranded people walking in the same direction. But the five year-old child had to hold on to his mother's hand to keep himself steady because the flood reached up to his waist. The younger child, who was only two years old then (and had no memory of the incident whatsoever), had to be carried by his father.

The older child was determined to go through the floodwater without help. He was even surprised when his father once offered to carry him as well. He declined, and tightened his grip on his mother's hand. He was old enough for wading through waist-deep floodwater, the boy thought. "Kaya niya iyan," his mother told his father. The child thought that she was right.

After hours of traveling, they reached Malabon where they were staying then. The town was of course, notorious for being flooded often, and they found, unsurprisingly, that the road to their house was blocked and that they had to get themselves wet one more time. On the way, they met his father's friend who was also the older child's godfather. The godfather offered to carry the older child on his back, to the latter's surprise. They have been hours walking, but the child although tired, was willing to go through more miles of flood. He felt a certain pleasure in not being a burden to his parents. It made him feel like a grownup.

But soon, his feet left the wet ground and he found himself sitting on his godfather's shoulders. He knew it would be rude and foolish to protest, so he simply tried to make himself lighter to make it easier for his godfather. At first, he felt dizzy for being too high from the ground, and the rocking motion made him feel unsteady. He wished he was back walking on the ground like an independent person. He didn't like being treated as a child because he saw no point in it. His younger brother was asleep on his mother's arms.

The child grew up with an abnormal sense of independence. He was aware of what he needed to do. He didn't need his mother to tell him to do his assignments, or to study for his exams. His mother didn't need to scold him often because he didn't need telling twice. He listened to his mother and to his teachers, and did what he should do like a good boy should.

And now the boy has grown into a man, and one day the man realized that he was missing something in his life - being dependent on others.

Growing up brings its own kind of problems, he realized. Once you're freed from school, you begin to face new trials, and thankfully because of the hardships he had gone through in and out of school, he was well-equipped to face them. He waded through the flood of grownup problems, and was able to reach home. All on his own.

But sometimes, he wonders how it would have felt for someone to save him from his own problems. How it would have felt to encounter a problem and let someone take care of it, not even thinking about it once. He would have liked to know, even just once, how it feels for someone to be there for him - to hug him tight, and to assure him that everything will be alright. Because always facing problems on your own is not easy. It is exhausting. Tiring. Even if you know you can get through in the end.

Looking back, he realizes that he can't remember being hugged as a child. He never felt his mom embracing him, telling him that she loves him. Telling him that he was a wonder of a child, that she was thankful for having a son like him, always getting all sorts of achievements. He can't remember being appreciated by his parents, but he can vividly remember his father shouting at him:

"You think I'm happy that you are intelligent?! I'm not!!"

***

A couple of hours ago, I was sitting, watching the leaves fall in Sunken Garden. I was watching the gray sky and the green view. I was listening to music and smoking. I was enjoying the moment. Alone, yet happy in my own special emo way.

I was sitting there, waiting for the cool breeze to come. I want to feel it rustle through my hair, my clothes. I was waiting for the breeze because when I feel it cut through my clothes... When I feel it caressing me, I imagine I am being hugged by someone out there. Someone who will tell me that everything will be okay. That I will be taken care of.

I know I'm grown, that I can handle things well, but sometimes you just get tired, and you feel like resting a bit. Being assured. Being told that I'm loved. Being hugged. Being dependent.

The Rush

It was already around 9pm and the corridors were deserted. I went out of the laboratory to find you outside, waiting for me. You asked me to accompany you to the comfort room, so we went.

I went inside first. It was dark. But you felt for the switch on the wall and turned the lights on. There was nobody inside. If it was left to me, I'd keep the lights off.

You went inside the cubicle and I followed you. You laughed. When you were done, you turned and kissed me, and I kissed you back. Hotly.

We were so into it I felt like we were devouring each other.

I pushed you to the wall and pressed on you and held you tight, your body heat surging into mine. Anybody can come in and if I get discovered I might lose my job. But we did it still. It was exciting.

After, I looked at you and smiled and I laughed a bit, shaking my head inwardly. We went out of the comfort room, back to my laboratory.

My lab partner was inside, but she noticed nothing. Though I was secretly smiling and feeling my slightly sore lips with my tongue.

And I chuckled while I was transferring the 500 microliter cadmium and lead solution into the beaker. Nobody knew.

It was exciting.

Ruins

I used to be proud of our house. I remember my family moving in even though it wasn't completely finished. So we had to endure sleeping with the smell of paint, and being pestered with insects attracted to the light since the screens weren't on the windows yet. Wood, cement, and noise galore.

When it was done, our house was really beautiful. It was quite small though, but it was enough for the four of us. My dad used to be an interior designer and has some know-how on things like building houses, and I can say that he did his best with the small lot that we have.

I liked the spotlights hanging from the structura best. Imagine having those illuminations in your house when I was used to ordinary apartments and my grandma's ancient house. It was amazing. The fluorescent lights weren't exposed - they were in niches on the ceiling covered with silvery thingies and corrugated platic thingies. No chandeliers, those wouldn't fit. There were switches everywhere. I especially liked the halogen lamp over the aquarium, and the two half-disc lamps attached to the living room wall.

And the furniture! They were designed by dad himself. The modern formica dining table overhanging from a wall. The rounded cabinet. The kitchen with its stylish gray and maroon tiles and the brick thingy dividing kitchen and dining area with its arc-shaped hole where you can strike a pose.

And the bathroom which was always kept spotless by my mom. How my brother and I used to take a bath together and play with the shower and the shower curtains, and occasionally with the flush toilet.

The carpeted bedrooms and our new double-deck bed. My own cabinet and bookshelf. My own table where my cassette player, my keyboard, and my toys were. The arched doors with circular windows. The modern multi-flecked paint on the walls. The special corner for my Dad's Buddhist altar, smelling of ash and incense.

The house always looked its best on Christmas. The Christmas lights outside alternating with green wreathe-like thingies with red cherry-like balls. The lavishly decorated Christmas tree! How Mom would adorn the brick wall thingy with artificial plants and flowers and blinking lights and decors which vary every year. When alone, I used to turn off all the lights except for the fading ones on the Christmas tree and have an emo moment while listening to music.

I had my elementary and high school classmates visit my house often, and they were always charmed by it. I was proud of our house.

We were financially stable then. Dad always had these big jobs from well-known companies, and we lived happy and contented in our beautiful home. But then after a few years, his projects became fewer and less frequent, until a time came when he didn't get any jobs at all. And at the same time, my brother went mentally ill. The house changed then.

The glass on the cabinet was smashed by my brother on one of his frenzies. Some of our appliances had to be sold because we had no more money. The aircon had to go. Mom's sewing machine. One of our TV's.

The fish in the aquarium died since we couldn't afford to feed them with their special pellets and flakes anymore. I cried for some of my favorite pet fishes. We placed them on buckets and left them to their deaths (though the hammerheads and the janitor fishes endured longer).

Our cable TV was cut off. The landline had to go as well since we couldn't pay the bills anymore. My Dad and I were having big fights every night. My brother physically tormented me with his crazy behavior. My Mom wasn't at my side.

The furniture was moved to suit the movements of a poorer life. Before they were used to beautify, now they had to function as efficiently as possible. Lines for drying clothes were installed on the living room. Laundry everywhere. Parts of the wall dividing our rooms were taken down to suit my brother's demented condition until our whole second floor became one big disorganized room.

I lost my room. The double-deck was cut down into two beds since my schizo briother can't sleep on the upper deck anymore. The carpet became dusty. My radio broke down. The expensive lights were taken away since they consumed too much electricity. Soft yellow lights replaced by cheap unattractive white ones.

Then the water tank in our whole area got busted so we had to fetch water for our daily needs from the artesian well blocks away. The bathroom became dirty because of the well water, and my Mom lost the heart to clean it so often since the floor was always wet.

Now when I go home on weekends, I can't help but feel sad about the sorry state of our house. Cockroaches and mice have infested our once pest-free abode. Every time I come home, a light has been replaced, or an unnecessary door has been removed. A side chair disappears, or a furniture has been moved. We don't do Christmas decors anymore. The Christmas tree is years left dusty in its box.

When my room was still partially whole, I placed a Hogwarts poster I made on an ornamental window so that those outside can see it. I placed it there so that passersby will know that a bonafide Hogwarts student stays in that room.

But I've lost my room. The second floor already looks like a ward with four beds arranged side by side. And I don't sleep there as often.

And I can't even look up at my Hogwarts poster now since a mini sari-sari store is now placed on our front garden, and its roof blocks the view.

The last time I went home, the store was closed and empty of goods. Bankrupt. And I'm not earning enough to support my whole family - them and their medicine.

I used to go home to recharge. To soak in a sense of stability in a place where I grew up. But now when I go home, I just feel more depressed. I can't wait to go back to my new bed, new table, new everything in my new dorm.

I call my cat, Baby, and pet him, as I get lost in the memories of what my family used to have, of how much we've fallen, of the big responsibility now on my shoulders.

And now, as I'm typing this, I cry a bit, because I remember those days when I am still in good terms with Dad, my brother was still sane, and the house was still new. How everything was beautiful, in and out of the house.

Our house is in ruins, in more ways than one.

And for now, all I can do is cry and remember.

Gravel

Gravel looks different when seen with the yellow light of a lamp post.

In the day, it has a bluish-gray tinge. At night, it looks gray. Most people don't notice the bluish-gray tinge gravel has. In most drawings, gravel appears gray. When you ask people what color gravel has, they will answer that its gray. Some don't even think about gravel at all.

Gravel is beautiful. I love how the shadows emphasize the geometric shapes of gravel. You can't miss its texture. Sometimes, I imagine touching the jaggedness of gravel with my fingertips.

I love how a path layered with gravel gives an illusion of uniformity although it's not.

I think it won't be easy to paint gravel. You have to consider it's three-dimensional shape. You must have a knowledge of just how much blue or gray or black paint you need to use. You need to consider where the shadows will fall. It's easier to take a picture of a gravelled path and paint it than start from scratch with your imagination.

Gravel is one of the things which doesn't have a distinct shape. Of course, in general, rocks don't have definite shapes either, but gravel gives a more illustrative example.

I wonder about how gravel is formed and about its properties. I wonder about its chemical composition. I imagine it has loads of oxygen and minerals. I wonder about the name of the rock where it comes from. I wonder how a machine is able to break gravel rock and transform it into relatively uniform pieces.

Gravel is better than sand, in some ways. Each piece of gravel is distinct. Sand grains are too small to standout on their own. Gravel gives a feel of independence and uniqueness. Gravel is beautiful but it will hurt your bare feet. Sand is soft, but it will give you a grainy uncomfortable feeling when it sticks on your skin or gets inside your clothes. You won't have those problems with gravel.

In my dormitory, there is a single lamp post left on when it's late. I like to go outside the dorm when there's nobody around and look at it and watch insects fly around it. At times, when I'm smoking, I like to look at how the light makes my cigarette smoke more opaque.

Often, when i'm smoking just outside the dorm, I'm listening to music as well. As I ponder about my thoughts and emotions, I lean on the stone railing, and I look down on the path made of gravel.

It was there that I discovered that

Gravel looks different when seen with the yellow light of a lamp post.

Good Morning

I woke up to feel you beside me. It's been ages since we last slept together. Those days when you can sleep anytime beside me were long gone - now we can only snatch time together in rented rooms like this.

The air was pleasantly cool, and I felt cozy inside with you. Outside, the wind might be howling, the rain pouring in torrents. I really can't tell because the room didn't have any windows. But whatever was happening outside, I didn't care much. As long as we're together, we'd be alright. In this room, we are protected from the elements in the same way as our love protects us from sadness and other dreary thoughts.

I woke you up. Well, as much as I'd love to let you sleep more, our time was nearly up. It was 4 in the morning already, and the checking out time will come within 90 minutes. I turned on the dim red lights. And we made love one more time.

Shower time, and then you watched the morning news. I lit a cigarette and smoked while listening to music from my fone, even singing now and then. I told you how it would have been in our own house, me turning the radio full blast and smoking while you watching news and drinking coffee. You smiled.

I looked at the mirror and remembered the past ten hours. How we ordered food and ate together, taking pictures in between mouthfuls. How we watched that "art film", and how you didn't like them much. And how we laughed and how we hugged and cuddled and kissed... and loved. For ten hours we were alone, and we were able to do things we couldn't do outside.

Time to leave, and we took one last look at the room which served as our heaven for a little while.

Outside, the skies were stormy, and we were wearing our jackets, ready for the rain but there was none. You suggested that we walk the remaining distance, and I agreed because the idea was also in my mind.

It was a gray dawn and you kept saying how you liked the time - when most are still in bed. We crossed the bridge and I looked down on the brown and swollen Pasig River. I remembered my childhood fear of crossing bridges - that fear of falling and drowning, being swept away... And I was very conscious of the people crossing the bridge with us for they might take it into their heads to throw me into the river.

It was a long walk and we were approaching Robinson's Pioneer and I kept singing "Think I'd like to stay a minute longer" and later, "Tuesday morning in the dark.." though I knew it wasn't Tuesday but I wished it was for it would have been perfect.

And then we had to climb the overpass to go the other side of EDSA. We ate breakfast at Jollibee, and we laughed at the cute guy behind the counter who kept making mistakes and how we argued whether he was gay or not.

And then, it was time to go and part ways, although if it was left to me, you know I would have loved to stay with you since I had nothing to do anyway. Classes were suspended.

On the street, in full view of the bustling EDSA, I asked you if you wanted a kiss right there. You raised your eyebrows and dared me by sayig yes, but you knew I wouldn't do it anyway, so we just laughed and turned and said goodbye.

The sky was still gray, as if dementors were roaming somewhere above, but as I climbed back up the MRT station, I kept thinking of what a beautiful day it was beginning to be. For us.

It was a good morning.

The Knight's Tale I: The End of A Dream

The Count was walking to and fro. To and fro. He had already created a few feet of severely flattened grass where he was pacing. His eyebrows were knotted. His fists were balled hard. Something seemed wrong. And nature was, once again, mocking him with its cheerfulness.

He looked up and saw that the sky was still bright even though dusk was approaching, and the red sunlight filtering through the forest canopy was pleasing to the eye. But there was nothing right in the world anymore. Nothing right. The hunter... His hunter... is dead.

He killed him. He had no choice. He was to revive him but things went wrong. Horribly wrong. And so the hunter died, in his arms. The one he loved, he killed. Those who love him, killed. Those associating themselves with him always get killed.

A cursed life not worth living. So he killed himself. Jumped off the cliff where he buried the hunter. But, somehow, with a cruel twist of fate, he lived through the fall. Whether he transformed into a crow at the last minute, or whether something else saved him, he didn't know. Only that he opened his eyes not to welcome the eternal darkness of death but to see the mild glow of fireflies playing on his face.

Why wasn't he allowed to die? Why did he have to suffer more? Why can't he just take the coward's exit and simply run away from it all? Why?

It has been three months since the fall.

Now everyone he saw around the corner of his eye was the hunter. Every turned back. Every sound of running footsteps was the hunter coming back to meet him. Be with him. Every sigh came out from the lips of his hunter.

He kept seeing the hunter in other men's eyes. Kept seeing them in other's hands, other's faces. He kept seeing him everywhere because deep in his heart, he was hoping that the hunter was still alive. Deep in his heart, he was hoping that the magic which was supposed to bring him back did work, even if it came too late. But if that was so, it would have been a more horrible fate for him and the hunter both - the person he loved the most, buried alive by his own hands.

It has been three months now. And he had already convinced himself before that, perhaps, this chance of a new life meant something. That perhaps, he wasn't supposed to die just yet. That there were more things which would happen to him. And if that was so, what was the use of carrying on with something which will only make him weaker? What was the use of remembrance? What was the use of hopes and dreams when they would only bring him down?

He knew and understood all this, and he did just what was right for him - to let go.

Just three months.

And suddenly, the answer hit him - what was wrong with the day. What was wrong with the sky, the forest, everything. He closed his eyes.

That the time for the truth has come. That the hunter is gone. That there's really no coming back.

That all his dreams of him being with the hunter - the hope that has sustained him for years was all for nothing now. That all the emotions he has spent for the hunter - they had nothing to go to now. The one he threw his heart at, its unwilling recipient, is dead.

So he had no choice but to make the hunter leave his heart for good. Pushed out of his mind. Eradicated completely. Every small thing. Every memory burned. For the good.

Three months gone, and now he was feeling something else. The hunter's leaving had left him with a vague sense of emptiness. Will that place in his heart ever be replaced?

Tears fell heedlessly.

"Is it really over?" he asked.

***

The man hiding behind a tree shifted his weight, making a branch snap with a faint crack. His eyes darted to the Count, alert in case of discovery. But the Count was absorbed with something else. He was standing still, staring at the sky. He was looking at nothing, yet tears were falling silently down his face.

The man behind the tree wondered about what he was thinking. He wondered about such displays of emotion. But there were more important things at hand... Matters of the heart were not of interest to him anyway. Not very much.

He raised his right hand, producing fireflies out of thin air, creating a soft glow in the slowly creeping twilight. With a gesture of his hand, the fireflies flew as one towards the Count, and still the Count didn't notice. They illuminated the Count's face, making him look softer and more vulnerable.

A shadow of a smile appeared on the wizard's own face, but it was soon gone, replaced by an intent look of purpose.

The Count opened his eyes.

Where the World Can See

It's weird being a "writer"... Like we're all hollering out to our readers. Like we're all clamoring for your attention... It's like

"Read me..."

"Try me..."

"Listen to me..."

"Feel me..."

"Hey..."

"Stay..."

I think that when you write, you can't help but expose something about yourself. I'm an avid blogger (I haven't met anyone more addicted than me), and I'm also an avid blog reader, and I know about these things (I don't need to be a CW major to learn about these). When my friends write about their stories - the topics they choose, their tone, how they look at things - those reflect their personality, and by reading their entries, I am, in a way, immersed into their own characters (unless they are professional writers but I'm talking about blogs here). Being placed into their own shoes for a while. I get to know them in another level - perhaps in ways they are not even aware of. I get to discover their secret feelings and intentions.

Just the fact that they have a blog for instance, or when they start a blog but can't maintain it - these things already say something about themselves. For example, this blogger always talks about this guy, even abusing him through words. But what does it really say about her? It means she's in love with him. This blogger always talks about serious stuff. What does it say about him? He wants to be praised and to be considered an intellectual. This blogger always raves about his sex life. What does it say about him? (I might be wrong though.)

It's risky being a writer, because when you are exposed, you become vulnerable. This leads me to the question - why do we need to put up walls? Why can't we just show who we are? Why are we afraid when people get to know too much about ourselves?

Because when they find out about our secrets, they can use them to hurt us?

Why can't we trust our readers?

I used to be a man with many secrets. As I grew up, I learned that there was nothing wrong with sharing. Nothing wrong with asking help from your friends. But looking at who I am now, have I overdone it? With the contents of this blog, you can even call me an open book and I won't disagree. I've placed my heart where the world can see.

But there's a reason, reader, why I am doing this. There's a reason why I chose to talk about this. But I won't tell. I will never tell anyone. Not a soul.

There are secrets I will take with me to my grave. Not because I want to, but because I just can't.

Tag-Ulan

Kapag tag-ulan, parang may pakiramdam kang mag-emote. May kakaiba ka kasing feeling. Malamig. Tapos parang nahahaluan ng pagka-gray ang paligid mo. Araw man o gabi, may dalang charm sa akin ang ulan. Parang ang lungkot. Ang emo. Kakaiba.

Minsan, iniisip kong maglakad sa ulan nang walang payong at nakikinig sa music. Pero parang ang hirap gawin. Bukod sa magmumukha kang weird, masisira pa yung player mo. Sana may private open place ako na may malapit na malakas na player para makapag-emote nang may music. Astig. Dapat magawa ko yun bago mamatay.

Naisip ko lang kung gaano kalakas ang impluwensya ng mga tao sa paligid natin. Kagaya nga nun, gusto ko sana maglakad sa ulan. Kaso mapapansin ako ng mga tao kaya tuloy, masisira ang pag-eemote ko. Titingin sila sa akin. Magtataka. Maguguluhan. Magiging concerned sa katinuan ko. Bakit ba kailangang mag-payong ang lahat ng tao? Minsan, gusto mo lang talagang mabasa nang ulan at mag-emote.

Siyempre, hindi lang ganun ka-simpleng gawin ang paglalakad sa ulan. Dapat feel mo talagang gawin yun. At mas magandang hindi siya planado dahil mawawala ang moment mo. Yun nga ang isang magandang bagay dun - hindi mo kasi malalaman kung kailan uulan. Feel mo nga mag-emote eh kung hindi naman umuulan... Umuulan nga eh di mo naman feel mag-emote... Kakaiba.

Marami akong naaalala kapag umuulan. Mga bagay na dapat kalimutan. Mga bagay na nangyari at bumago sa aking buhay. Minsan, gusto mo na lang tumingala sa langit habang lumuluha ka. Para hindi mapansin ng mga tao na umiiyak ka nga. Surreal siguro ang pakiramdam nun, magkahalong luha at ulan. Na parang ikaw din ang langit at ang mga luha mo ay ang mga patak ng ulan. Na parang nakikiramay ang mga ulap sa iyo.

Ang weird lang minsan.

Tapos kapag tapos na yung ulan, may literal na washed out feeling ang mga kapaligiran. Parang malinis ulit. Fresh. Pati yung pakiramdam mo maaliwalas na ulit. Parang kapag umiyak ka na, magaan na ulit yung feeling mo. Kakaiba.

Pero ang sigurado ako, natatapos din ang ulan. Kahit anong ulan pa iyan... Matatapos din. Pana-panahon. Panahon mag-emote. Panahon para magsaya.

In fairness, pwede ka nga din palang mag-"dancing in the rain".