| Epilogue |
[22 Mar 2006|12:47am] |
THINGS CHANGE. Citizen Z landed on the shore of Tranquility on the far side of the moon, finally free from the gravity of Earth, and in the still murky blue of the night, he thought of all the ones who had gone before him--Billy Batson, Scott Free, Harry Houdini, Shiloh Norman, Mother Carrissa--a handful of men and women who've passed the Ultimate Challenge, the Diabolical Deviousness of Desecration, going against the world itself. The sun was still half an hour from rising here, but already there was enough light for Citizen Z to notice a tiny flower at his feet, a small thing, a moonbloom, waiting for a chance to grow into a tree.
There was no one else here. And Citizen Z thought to himself: "It's time to build."
He walked into a sunrise on the moon, and if he could just see himself from afar he'd have thought to himself that it was just like one on earth, pale yellow and fleeting, blinding but true. Without realizing it, he had just turned something strange and unknown into the blank openness of space, reverse-white and beyond inspiring.
--
THAT'S IT FOR ME. This will be my last public entry on ficto. I'll be moving to a new LJ addy in a few days, you'll hear about it soon. Big things have happened in my life and I think this would be a nice marker for the change. If you're still up to reading my words in the meantime, my blogger The Brassbuddha Machine is still going strong, so check it out if you like. But that's it for me right here.
Rest In Peace
Ficto
April 6, 2003-March 22, 2006
Goodnight, Ficto. Rest well.
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| Thrill Canvas |
[13 Mar 2006|05:13am] |
| [ |
mood |
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 satisfied |
] |
| [ |
music |
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"The Great Gig in the Sky" - Pink Floyd |
] |
LAST NIGHT: Feeling more than a little bored with myself, I have done something so deliciously audacious that I'm still reeling from the thrill of it all. Amazing, the little cracks in the world you'll find if you just peer in to look. And now I shall not talk about this properly. Because it is insane. And bordering on scandalous. I will back down out of respect to the innocent unsoiled minds that stray in and out of the room like rare elephants.
Hee hee. I feel so cool. I now have a lot more material I feel obligated to pour into writing. Oh well. Cool. Ask me when you see me, I might tell you, I might not. :P
TODAY: I have to get some good sleep and wake up on time for class. Hell week is riding on the skeletal mares of apocalypse. Cue teeth-gnashing and nerves. I hope you've all been obediently studious this sem. Hmm mmm...(9_9) Good luck to all of us.
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| Age and Beauty |
[10 Mar 2006|04:01am] |
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mood |
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 thoughtful |
] |
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music |
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"Saturday" - Fall Out Boy |
] |
LINEAGE AND LEGACY. Spent the afternoon talking to Vin about the antics of life and age and death (his grandmother recently passed away), and I went home carrying the mental baggage of all these mortal conundrums, existentialist doubts and fond memories that stretch the cord of my short but eventful life. The whole exchange got me thinking of my grandmother on my mother's side, Leticia, whom we affectionately call Mama Let at family gatherings and see as the central knot that ties together the far-reaching (but closely-knit) web of a clan that I belong to.
Above is a worn but computer-restored photograph of her (left) and her mother (right). It’s always surprising and heart-warmingly nostalgic when you get these glimpses into a past which flourished before you were even a thought in your mother’s mind. Here I am reminded of those Campaign for Real Beauty billboard ads posted along major highways, with boxes to be check-marked either “Aging” or “Ageless”, a campaign I would nominate Mama Let for without thinking twice. My grandmother in her youth was a woman of classic Asian beauty, punctuated by my late great-grandmother’s, whose beauty is only dignified and wizened by age.
I picture my grandmother in my mind now and find that she is not so far removed from the shining young woman in the photograph above. There’s something that age does to you—an ancient effect that I liken to an increase in contrast and definition rather than a diminishment of view. In my opinion, there’s little else that can be said of timeless beauty other than that it tends to reach through lifetimes into the future, carving new versions on innocent personages with a legacy and heritage of that same beauty, like everything else we inherit through our pasts.
My grandmother seems to have preserved her looks even today, in her early 70s, aged like fine wine. My mother (below left, in red), reaching for her 50s, is still a sight to behold despite the many trials she’s undergone as a sole parent of 6 children. My sisters are now among the prettiest girls in school, turning heads and conjuring smiles on people’s faces wherever they go. And as I think about it, it’s hard to believe that this legacy won’t continue as my family grows on, generation after generation, new faces, new names, always that distinct flavor of beauty that filters in and colors the now with everything that has come before.
In my day-to-day life, it’s shocking to note that the topic of women rarely ever comes up, despite the fact that I’m surrounded by strong examples of them. I don’t think I’ve ever really talked about them in-depth on this journal, sad to say. Though I’m proud to note that I have a lot of beautiful friends, women who’ve come in and out of my life in shocks or slowly-rising waves of gorgeousness, none of them have yet to outshine the aura of beauty that I see emanating from the female core of my family. Strong and warm, striking but giving, I feel that there’s a beauty there that neither time nor death has yet been able to kill.
These days I rarely seem to talk about my family, overshadowed by the many self-absorbed or self-indulgent trips into my own life, but once in a while I think about them and I’m reminded of the richness in my blood, the brilliance and beauty I’m surrounded by. I’m more than blessed to have landed in this particular group of people, a fluke in a long line of beautiful accidents, and every face I’ve grown up with has never failed to strengthen my resolve as to the magic of my bloodline. Lots of brains, lots of heart, lots of pain and laughs and learning…always the beauty. If anything, these people make the world a prettier place, and we’re all luckier for it.
 
Condolences on your loss, Vin. Right now I'm thankful for the reminder of something I haven't looked at or treasured in a long time. If your grandmother was anything like mine, we are all richer for having had her presence in this world.
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| Writer's Garden |
[08 Mar 2006|02:04pm] |
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mood |
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 creative |
] |
| [ |
music |
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"Build God, Then We'll Talk" - Panic! In The Sky |
] |
THE NEXT WAVE OF WRITING. It's Palanca-writing season, time to gear up and work on entries for the most coveted writing award in the country. Thanks to Dean for sending me the Palanca entry forms, rules and whatnot; if any of you guys want a copy, leave a comment here and I'll email it to you guys.
This being a red flag raised in the horizon, and I can imagine the multitudes of writers in the Philippines clacking away at their keyboards at this very moment, gearing up for Palanca war. And so, drawing a kitame sword and my samurai helmet, I shall join the fray for my 3rd year of entering.
I recently discussed the Palanca Awards with Reja, and she asked me why I keep joining this contest when I've lost twice in a row already and "obviously, they don't want what you're writing". My answer: "They didn't want what I've written, but that doesn't mean they won't want what I can write now." As you keep writing and writing and writing and writing, you can't help but change as a writer, shifting priorities, getting sick of old tricks, finding new ones, improving and refining your style. It's basic evolution. And by that token I'm a different species of writer now that I was a year or two ago.
So now, pending the last few weeks of school and the work involved there, I'm gearing up for a couple of new entries to the Palanca. At this moment, I'm angling to write a new short story, a one-act play (brushing up on a couple of plays I've already started), and possibly a series of poems. Also, I'm gonna have another dream collaboration with a very special someone on a Future Fiction story entry. It's still at the gestation stage, but I'll update on it once it's well under way.
That's it so far. Gotta get off the 'net and onto Microsoft Word for a definite slog through the writing world. Good luck with exams, people!
THE NEXT WAVE OF READING Been reading through a couple of novels as of late, which is really good if the material's nice, since it all filters into the writing in one form or another. Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse 5 is the current favorite, a writer who I've been meaning to read for a long time but haven't gotten around to until now. It's a nice postmodern specfic piece which plays with the concept of life and time, inventing a slew of techniques by which to handle this, and I'm excited by the storytelling possibilities this examples.
Next up is Gabriel Garcia Marquez's autobiography, Living To Tell The Tale, perhaps the heaviest read in my pile, perhaps the most beautiful. It chronicle's Gabriel "Gabito" Marquez's life from his humble beginnings in Colombia to the many foibles and challenges which eventually led him to choose the life of a writer. All of it so beautifully written, when I start reading I get sucked into a couple thousand words before I have to tear my eyes off the page and process everything that's just happened. Really sweet wonderful stuff going on here.
Another book on my list is Jack Kerouac's The Subterraneans, a sharp, strangely-written novel of love and despair among young poets, painters and jazz musicians of postwar San Francisco. I've always been fascinated by the whole Beat movement, an aesthetic revolution in my mind, from which bloomed many writers I've come to love and respect, William Burroughs and Allen Ginsberg among them. Jack Kerouac, romantic intelligent and handsome, has been called the father of the Beat movement, and in this novel (one of his more obscure ones, I think), he shows us why. Again, realist fiction with a stylistic twist, brimming with a passion for details and emotions, plus lots of yummy first-person prose soliloquys which make the reading of it a breeze.
Lastly, as little commercial breaks (sometimes very looong commercial breaks), I'm reading through my treasured anthology by Ellen Datlow, Kelly Link and Gavin J. Grant: The Year's Best Fantasy and Horror 18th Annual Edition. If there's anything in my reading list that is full-on fun for me, with my attention span, it's this. So far, my favorite story is "Tales from the City of Seams" by Greg van Eekhout, but there have been other stories contending for the top spot. Anthologies are great because you only have to invest a short amount of time to get a complete story, and since I prefer to write short stories, it's a small wonder why I love these things so much.
Some of you might say, with all the things here angling for my attention, it might not be the most efficient way to read. Truth is, I have a terrible attention span and I prefer to read a lot of different things at the same time, jumping from one book to the next, so I get the full-on effect of MTV channel-changing TV-surfing. This is probably a true mark of the times I've grown up in, but what the heck. It's what I like to do.
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| Ideas of March |
[06 Mar 2006|09:45pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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busy |
] |
| [ |
music |
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"Summertime" - Mae |
] |
TEEN SPIRIT SPECIAL. Arrgh! Previous post fucked up somehow. Anycase, I'll post something like it again! Check out this month's issue of MEG MAGAZINE: It's got this extensive article showcasing their picks for the "50 Young Achievers". I've been generously slotted into the artist's den, a great honor for me, as I'm rubbing shoulders with totally amazing people like Angelo Suarez, Jenna Genio, Hannah Liongren, Elbert Or, etcetera etcetera (there are 50 people showcased here--if I outline them all, you'd die of name-nausea).
Been feeling a bit depressed and unproductive as of late, so this was a welcome surprise. It's really weird and heartening to see myself on a mass print publication. A bit surreal--the main pic of the artist's article show the 10 of us breaking out of our self-sustaining gravitational field in various superhero poses. I'm the bald upside-down guy who looks like he just ate too much cachinka, but there's the funny for you. Laughed out loud when I saw it, I did.
Last bot: A big THANK YOU once again to journalist supreme James Gabrillo for once again flinging me (and a number of my friends) into the spotlight all smiles. I really appreciate it. NEXT: "Top 50 Under-Achievers! Who will make the cut?!" :P
NEW MUSIC. My iPod's been screaming out with all the new music I've been downloading. My top picks to check out: This band called Mae, which is an acronym for Multisensory Aesthetic Experience, a very intelligent emo band (such things exist!) with intricately-crafted songs and offbeat sensibilities.
Second on my list of WOW-bands is Ok Go, a wunderkind in the fringe music world, whose songs never follow a single prescribed format, opting instead to run the gamut of weird musical genres. Ok Go has serious multi-personality disorder and is, in effect, fucking brilliant, their efforts resulting in a collection of singles that, taken all at once, sounds more like a whole mess of bands contributing to an anthology instead of one.
Last but not least, if you haven't checked out The Arctic Monkeys, you might as well be living on Mars. It's an outstanding band, fronted by prodigal 19-year-old geniuses who've wedged themselves into global consciousness with their outlandish, tongue-and-nails brand of Euro-skewed music. Check it out. Check it all out.
NEXT ON GRANGA: A lot of percolation. Things bubbling up in the subconscious. Notebooks filling up with ideas. Coming up after the break. Z Z Z
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| Friday Blues and Yellows |
[03 Mar 2006|03:43am] |
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mood |
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 irritated |
] |
| [ |
music |
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"Soundtrack For Our Movie" - Mae |
] |
WITH A VISE AROUND HIS NECK, I PRESUME. The little sketch above is scanned from one of my old sketchbooks, circa 2003 (Photoshopped a bit, obviously). I found a stack of them again recently and I've been gleefully paging through them and basking in the utter brilliance of my 17-year-old self. "I used to be so cool..."
It was a bit depressing and challenging really; leafing through these old record tomes of my past self's brain, I'm reminded of that free-wheeling "idea machine" energy that seemed to possess me way back when. Not anymore lately, not for a long while now. I dunno what happened. Maybe I got caught up in the nitty-gritty of the craft, maybe it was all the seriousness that filtered into what I was doing; i dunno.
Bottom line is: I want it back.
And I'm getting it back, you just wait and see. I just need a little bit of time to wrap my head around the whole concept of reclaiming creative innocence after swimming for too long in the pool of academic jadedness. Maybe I need to get back to more music. Seemed to be a main inspiration then. Whatever happens, the whole cold, calculating and self-conscious process of putting things together has run its course for me. It's just so goddamn depressing now. I need some sort of fusion tile on my brain, to patch things up between the left and right wings. We'll see what happens.
TO WONG FU, WITH LOVE. Or without, as the case may be. Been reading up on astrology a lot these days, once I realized it was a painfully obvious section of the magic bookstore I hadn't yet seriously perused.
Which is bad timing, I realize, since the stars are pointing to a more or less boring, meandering period for me this 2006; all the exciting stuff really blooming only after Oktoberfest this year. Which, in turn, explains my half-heartedness as of late, the depression-I-hate-but-can't-shake, the pointless expeditions into the world of beautiful young love, the blank-faced expression I seem to get every two minutes.
Bah. I'm the kind of person who thrives on excitement in life, whether positive or negative. I can't take boring. It's my personal concept of earthly Hell. All sorts of exciting things are happening to everyone but me and I'm more than irritated at that.
On the flipside, now that I think about it, maybe there's a way to develop some sort of magical reversal to the whole astrology thing. If I can engineer some sort of instrument that sort of refracts the design of the cosmos, with an effect like the way an image flips when you look through a prism. Hmmm.
BRAINWAVE ALERT! You can tell I've been making up these blog entries as I write them. Now that I think about it, the second part of this post can sort of connect to the first, since I just remembered a lot of old Grant Morrison interviews where he explains how his creative life, his comics and writings, after a lot of good thought and hardcore creation, seemed to jump out of the page and magically edited the real world. Hmmm.
Which means I need my mojo back. Really. There's no fucking around about it.
Consider this whole piece you just read the opening monologue of my version of "How Stella Got Her Groove Back". We'll see where it all goes.
--
Gah! Look at the time! I gotta get some Z's! School school school blah school...
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| Paint's Still Wet |
[02 Mar 2006|05:41am] |
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mood |
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 awake |
] |
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music |
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"A Certain Romance" - The Arctic Monkeys |
] |
POPPING WINE BOTTLES IN MY BRAIN, PLUS FIREWORKS. WOOOOOO-HOOOOOO!!! I just recieved an email from a certain Tom Coates that I've been accepted as a member to the notorious Barbelith.com online community!
This is news of absolute joy to me, since I've been a regular visitor of Barbelith for almost 3 years now, and I positively adore the community they've built up, full of writers, artists, musicians, mystics, engineers and the gamut of creative front-liners in the new millenium. Barbelith is the place to be, in my mind, since it's full of these amazing forum threads just brimming with exciting new ideas and tidbits off the edge of Fringe, Underground and Pop Culture. Intelligent online discussion here; not for the faint-hearted or communication-impaired.
I'm totally psyched and excited to get my feet wet at this place, especially after braving the scary new registration process they're employing now, which (I speculate) involves screening each applicant and checking their general worthiness of becoming a member. Which makes me all the more proud to be a member; the whole thing is just--WOW. I'm babbling now. I'm just too happy about it.
To see what I'm talking about, (and if you're not yet tired of the multiple links) I strongly encourage you guys to visit the site HERE. If you've got that particular off-center pulse in your brain, I guarantee you won't be disappointed. :)
--
On a side note: last few days have been a rollercoaster of events, some positive, others positively saddening. If you've been having the burden of grim reality weighing down on you as of late, I share your pain. We've all got to bleed a little to really appreciate the good stuff in life.
It's another season of Aquarius, so change is going on everywhere these days, some of it vindictive, some progressive, some downright senseless. Whatever the case, it's nice to have people to lean on. Here's a toast to yours. :)
--
Have a good day people! Stuff to do, stuff to do... :D
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| End of February |
[28 Feb 2006|05:49am] |
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mood |
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busy |
] |
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music |
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"When You're Around" - Motion City Soundtrack |
] |
SKIN OF MY TEETH (AGAIN). Oh. My. God. Finally finished polishing up and sending off my entries for the 1st Philippine Graphic/Fiction Contest, sponsored by Neil Gaiman and Fully Booked. I'm dead tired and awake, having spent the whole night finalizing them for submission. And I have school in a few hours, a whole day of school up until 5:30pm. I seriously want to just faint and sink into my bed.
For my entry to the Comics category, I Photoshop-tweaked a nice 5-page comic I made late last year, "Caraboy", one of the few unpublished comics pieces I'm genuinely proud of. This was submitted (pending acceptance) to Ian Casocot and Kit Kwe's Philippine Fiction Anthology. Was in terrible panic yesterday since all the short comics projects I was working on for the contest just weren't working, including the Pablo Neruda romance piece I've mentioned and a Whapak! short story. Finally, at 7pm, I gave up cramming, knowing I didn't have enough time. I was a bit scared to submit "Caraboy" since I'd already passed it to Ian and Kit's anthology, but after carefully reviewing the contest guidelines I found that the rights still immediately revert to me, so there was no danger of it being legally shanghaied out of its creator copyright. Cleaned it up, sent it in; it looks good.
For my entry to the Prose Fiction category, I took four (4) short short stories I'd recently written, jammed them together, pressed "Creative Osterizer" and remixed them into a very nice short story of 5,000+ words called "The Writer's Garden". It's got a sweet Canterbury Tales feel to it, slapped into shape by a surreal framing device that I hope works. I'll have to reread it again in a few days with fresh eyes before I can absolutely say for sure that I like it, but for now, it feels good.
Gah. I'm totally spent and I have a teeny amount of time to sleep before I have to get up. Hope the day works out well; after all the military coup crapola that's been happening, it's gonna be hectic to catch up with lost time. For now, I'll leave you with my favorite panel from my "Caraboy" comics entry:
Good Morning World!
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| Lyrics |
[27 Feb 2006|07:26pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 confused |
] |
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music |
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"Secret" - Maroon 5 |
] |
Watch the sunrise
Say your goodbyes
Off we go
Some conversation
No contemplation
Hit the road
Car overheats
Jump out of my seat
On the side of the highway baby
Our road is long
Your hold is strong
Please don’t ever let go oh no
I know I don’t know you
But I want you so bad
Everyone has a secret
But can they keep it
Oh no they can’t
Driving fast now
Don’t think I know how to go slow
Where you at now
I feel around
There you are
Cool these engines
Calm these jets
I ask you how hot can it get
And as you wipe of beads of sweat
Slowly you say "i’m not there yet!"
I know I don’t know you
But I want you so bad
Everyone has a secret
But can they keep it
Oh no they can’t
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| There You Go For Miles And Miles And Miles... |
[23 Feb 2006|04:36am] |
| [ |
mood |
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 morose |
] |
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music |
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"Ants Marching" - Dave Matthews Band |
] |
BREAK. For the first time in a thousand years, I am legitemately soul searching. I dunno. Long time, long time, and now I'm finally getting hit by pangs of growing up, responsibility, maturity, life plans and such. It's a cruel world and day in day out you have to get your hands dirty.
I want so many things it hurts. Crap. Feeling all emo in the morning with my head all drowsy with brain hormones pumping out depressants, little hazy cloud all over my vision as I, in the truest sense of the word, contemplate. There's only so much fucking around you can do with your life before you realize that you have to fuckin work to get something.
Things have been more or less easy for the past few years. Well, maybe not so easy, but I'm the kind of guy who just slogs through things to get to a desired point, and then forgets all the work I'd done getting there. And now, things are still peanut butter smooth but somehow I get the feeling that life's soon gonna get chunky, and that's kinda depressing, you know? I'm not one to get depressed or even like it when I'm there, but i've been feeling the blues creeping into my bones lately. Like I'm lost without direction. But I could choose a direction, but it might not be the best decision to make. I dunno.
Reading into my life right now, there's a lot I have to be thankful for, and yet there's something gone missing over the past few years. That youthful, reckless drive that made my eyes light up and abandon myself to whatever it was I was doing--comics, paintings, stories--I can still pump stuff out easily when I want, but the verve seems to have gone. The vigor. The vibe. It's a long way from back then and while I don't regret what I've done, I'm not very happy where I am right now (that's a horrible statement to make, I know, me being me, it sucks to think I've really gone off that deep end).
Dunno. Gah. I'm getting all depressed right now. Figuring out you're at one of the big crossroads is one thing, figuring out where to go is another. I wish I had a break, right about now. Some time to mull things over and ruminate like an ox would be wonderful. This's gonna be bubbling in my head for the next few days or so.
AND JUST SO I DON'T BORE YOU TO TEARS WITH MY EMO-BLAST, here's a coupla funny/cool/crazy pics I found off the 'net, lurking in my pictures folder waiting for me to show:
 
PLUS: HERE'S A TOUCHING SUPERMAN STORY from the Jeph Loeb/Tim Sale "Superman for All Seasons" era. It's a preview of Superman/Batman #26, a tribute issue to the life of the late Sam Loeb, teenage kid or writer Jeph Loeb, who died earlier this year after a 3-year battle with cancer. Endorsed by everyone from fan-favorites Joss Whedon, Geoff Johns and Rob Liefeld to class-acts Brian Vaughan, Brad Meltzer and Jim Lee, this kid seems to have touched the lives of a lot of comic creators in a big way, prompting them to rally around his tragedy and lift it up to something more profound.
( READ THE COMIC )
That is all. Will zone out now. Good morning world. :)
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| Greetingness! |
[19 Feb 2006|02:11pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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jubilant |
] |
| [ |
music |
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"Mardy Bum" - Arctic Monkeys |
] |
HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the coolest person in the world, Nikki (left), who is celebrating her birhday today, and the-coolest-person-in-the-world-to-be, Sage (right), who was born on Valentine's and celebrated her birthday just yesterday. Lots of love from me to you, girls! Wishing you both many happy years to come! :D
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| Destroy My Brain |
[17 Feb 2006|03:39am] |
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mood |
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working |
] |
| [ |
music |
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"Get Some Sleep" - Bic Runga |
] |
ON AUTOMATIC WRITING Huge apologies to everyone who commented on my last entry--where I put myself up to writing a short story for every comment laid down--I'd initially planned to finish all entries in a night, 2 nights max. I also thought I had a light week in terms of requirements, but all sorts of engagements popped up and I just lost all the time I thought I had to finish off the challenge. So for everyone who's been waiting, my humblest apologies, and rest assured that all comments will be dealt with by the weekend. I promise.
Meanwhile, you can check out the whole absurd fiasco HERE. It could build up to a glorious crescendo; I'm feeling it.
NEIL GAIMAN THING. Oh yes. That Neil Gaiman Contest thingee. Completely slipped my mind. Ah humm. Let's see...for my fiction entry I'm toying with a few half-formed stories I've already got in a folder on my computer--once I'm through with the aforementioned short story challenge, I'll see which ones I can mash together into a delicious literary concoction, with a cool new technique I'm developing, called "Creative Osterizer". Squeezing a lotta grapes to draw some fine wine.
I don't want to enter a by-the-numbers specfic entry--I'm thinking most people will be doing that, so in particular American Idol fashion, I'm working out what exciting weirdness I can cook up to break away from the pack.
As for my comicbook entry, I'm gorging myself on tons of Pablo Neruda (I recently recieved a book of his complete translated works, plus original texts from my big bro) and Gabriel Garcia Marquez (am currently reading his beautifully-written autobiography, thanks to Dean) in preparation for a full-hard-on romance comic, spurred by some back-and-forth creative conversations I had with El and this really cool idea I had to sum up all the EMO I've digested since high school: an ambitious b&w slice-of-life comic for the 21st century.
Yup, you heard me right. Romance. I didn't know what I was thinking either.
As for the artwork and panelling, I recently got me a copy of Grant Morrison's Kid Eternity, borrowed a Vinnie's copy of Spectrum 12 and was very recently blown away by Kevin Huizenga's GLENN GANGES. Check out that last link for true comics genius. All of these things will filter in somewhere, I'm almost certain.
And even though I'm in the mood to babble lots more, on stories and storytelling and all those weights I've been working my brain muscle out on, I gotta get up early tomorrow for the humdrum, back-breaking routine of real life, so that will have to be all for tonight. Lotsa things to finish up before I can zone out to real artiste' mode. I'll probably work out the rest of it in my subconscious.
Off to dream now. Keep smiling, people. :)
P.S. THIS IS SO COOL:
by Chris Ware.
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| Story Challenge! |
[12 Feb 2006|11:30pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 crazy |
] |
| [ |
music |
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"Hide n Seek" - Imogen Heap |
] |
AUTOMATIC WRITING. I got an interesting suggestion from an interesting person who is not really my friend and more of my enemy (especially coz of the suggestion in question), and it's so absurd I'm biting. Plus I'm feeling a bit masochistic tonight:
Leave a comment here, any comment, and I will write a short short story in reply to it.
No joke. It's one of those blah nights and I'm up for an impossible challenge. Ready? Go!
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| Reconnection |
[12 Feb 2006|03:53pm] |
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WHEEE! After so long, my internet connection's back up! Will update something later. Woo! I'm so happy! :D
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| THE QUESTION! |
[06 Feb 2006|01:25am] |
| [ |
mood |
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confused |
] |
| [ |
music |
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"Less Than You Think" - Wilco |
] |
STUPID QUESTION. This has been bothering me for quite some time now. Actually, I've been wondering about this probably since high school--just never really got around to asking anyone about it. Does anyone know what this means? Now that I'm thinking about it, this mysterious "E" drives me up the wall. I need an answer. What is this:
Please comment if you know. You will most probably enrich my limited knowledge of all practical things in the world and ease the turmoil of this troubled mind.
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| Bottling Places |
[05 Feb 2006|01:50am] |
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mood |
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awake |
] |
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music |
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"Heartbeats" - Jose Gonzales |
] |
NOWHERE TOWN. Having nothing better to do with myself yesterday, I decided to rough it (with about 200pesos in my pocket) and took a taxi to Nowhere Town. Grimy, hazy and derelect at the edge of Shaw Boulevard, Nowhere Town is a pocket world of shanties, pawn shops and peddlers of the strange. It runs along Gen. Kalentong Street, Mandaluyong City, a thatched community of ramshackle old buildings and new, bric-a-brac buildings, camouflaged somewhere deep in the bowels of Metro Manila, Philippines.
 
I got off at the end of Shaw Boulevard and walked the side-streets bustling with people, either half-dressed or attired in faux fashions. Tricycles and jeepneys and run-down cars spat into the air a general miasma of smog that enveloped the whole place. People shouting from across the street at each other, people smoking to 70s/80s music ("Push It" was the most memorable), people spitting everywhere and a horse with both its eyes covered pulling an ancient kalesa. Woo.
 
In the back of my mind I had "Beyond the Speed of Adventure" playing, and with bright eyes I slogged through the place, upturning stones to discover new secrets, among them--a place that sold homemade guns, an Ukay-Ukay filled with this wonderful assortment of commercial bags, a shop that sold fantastic old action figures (The Creech, Silver Surfer, Golden Age Batman, Star Wars and more), plus plus a motorcycle store with psychedelic rainbow-tinted helmets, a stall on the side of the road covered with sepia pictures (this one offered to take your picture and develop it on the spot), tons of tindahans and sari-sari stores, and more.
 
Had my hair shaved for only 40pesos, bought a Che Guevarra cap for only 25pesos, and almost squealed in delight when I finally bought a "Coke Sakto" for 5pesos, with its uber-cute 200ml 7-inch clear-glass Coca-Cola bottle, which I took home. Also, I wandered through this quirky little mall they had there called "The Marketplace"--which was a fantastic place--a strange mix between a mall and an actual marketplace. There was someone chopping up dead pig next to an arcade, of all things. Woo.
 
Sadly, I wasn't able to take that many pictures, for fear of my camera being stolen, as I only whipped out my teeny-weeny Ranger cam from Singapore at the most discreet of times. Here are the few that I got. I didn't want to be mugged either. It wasn't my world and I barely knew the rules, so I erred on the side of safety.
 
I stayed there for almost three glorious hours of discovery before I finally got bored and left. Nowhere Town blurring behind me in the thick of its smogginess, making me so pleased with myself and my new shaved head and my bag full of cheap goodies. Reveling in the pleasures of bottling a place and taking home treasures. Wheee:P
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| Insomnia Boy Babbles |
[04 Feb 2006|04:32am] |
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mood |
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weird |
] |
| [ |
music |
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"Games Without Frontiers" - Peter Gabriela and Kate Bush |
] |
I CAN'T SLEEP. Tossed and turned in bed, wrestled with a few ideas, burping out concepts i'll probably forget in the morning. Oh wait. It's morning. I'll have to be messing around online in blurry speed at this rate...
The babble generator is a bit slow right now so I'll just mumble out nonsense:
ANTIBODY
Will I be your antibody near and always deep down inside
Feel me rise inside your body dear you know I'll keep you alive
Your bones are grinding friction burn with new ideas brimming to blow
Alone I'm finding diction not enough when swimming undertow
If antibodies
deal disease
with such ease
why persist
in this tryst
of words and fancy tied in knots and twists
Will I be your antibody near and always deep down inside
Feel me rise inside your body dear you know I'll keep you alive
--Okay, I give. I need a new version of me. This one's gotten kinda bored and stale. Perhaps reinvention is in order. Something to the sound of "funk", "manic" and "unlikely". Gwahblahblah. Some people think I'm more interesting when I'm half-conscious. I'm not. It's like flogging a drunk person. You don't get the tantalica of reciprocation. I'm in no-brain state right now. Perfect time to wish to the universe.
"I need a new adventure"
Woo. Did you feel that? Cosmic ripple. I can feel it coming...
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| *New* at the Floating Opera |
[02 Feb 2006|12:13am] |
| [ |
mood |
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creative |
] |
| [ |
music |
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"Prevent This Tragedy" - Alkaline Trio |
] |
CPRtist of the DONE-T0-DEATH. My finger keeps floating a bit off the "O" on my keyboard when I type down my password for LJ, Gmail, Blogger and most of my online password-protected haunts; apparently it's an acquired bad habit from my last few months of haunting a special* online site whose password application system thus blocks out any letters after the 10th.**
--
* by "special", i mean secret, funny, possibly-deplorable, dirty, wanky, porny, filthy and generally not in the area of the universe that i prefer to mention on this site. this is a warning. you probably don't want to know.
** what you might want to know, as astute readers of this "update" might have picked out, is that I've given away that my all-encompassing online password is 11 letters long and ends with an "O". that should make it much easier for hackers to fuck around with my virtual life on the Internet.
--
Now that I've discouraged readers who hate my favorite particular style of writing, (different hums for different bums), I will now announce that I'm particularly grooooving on writing, ditto on reading, as I've spent the past three hours pumping out the words in particular effluviastic flavor, and that my particularly favorite word for the last few seconds seems to be "particular" (it's not; it's "effluvia").
Picked up John Barth's relatively new novel, "Coming Soon!!!", today, which presents an especially stunning parody of myself and my situation for the past three years. The story, which is buried underneath a tantalizing assemblage of keyboard strokes, is best explained in the back blurb of the book, which reads:
"Coming Soon!!! is the tale of two writers: an older, retiring novelist setting out to write his last work and a young, aspiring writer of hypertext intent on toppling his master. In the heat of their rivalry, the writers navigate, and sometimes stumble over, the cultural fault lines between print and electronic fiction, mentor and mentee, postmodernism and modernism."
The book is an exhausting read, to say the least, especially in the "mentee" parts. I'm treated to an assault of self-aware wordplay, pop culture references, strange asides and molting metafiction, puctuated by much-easier-to-understand breathe spaces written by the "mentor" part of the story. Overall, a laugh-out-loud journey into the world of conflicted writing, a place which I thought I'd forgot, and where I'd lovingly prefer to return to, with a new set of skills and a more informed mind.
I've been a very lucky boy, in terms of having people to push and prod you in the 'write' direction. A huge, years-spanning, heartfelt THANK YOU. You are the best, I shall better (one day). :p
IN OTHER NEWS, I'd like to welcome to the blogging world a good friend and confidant of mine, publisher-extraordinaire, certifiable-comics-creator and generally-worderful-person Jaime Bautista. Hello and Hi from the Great Internet Gods, Jaime! Here's a foofle greeting to you! :)
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intimidated
