For blue skies, I want to run. I will not shove my head inside a microwave oven. For blue skies, I will not put rocks in my pocket and drown. I want to stop thinking that jumping off from the 12th floor isn’t as bad as jumping off from the 17th floor. For blue skies, there’s gonna be a thirteenth floor on every building I shall get into. What’s up with all the bad luck attributed on 13 anyway WHEN MY JERSEY NUMBER IS 13? For blue skies, I will hunt down that person who told me I write well. I want to lock myself in my room with coke and iced tea on both hands and drown in the music of Coheed and Cambria and Belle & Sebastian. For blue skies, I want to conquer Mt. Pulag once again, on a February day, and die on an attempt to lie on the bed of clouds. For blue skies, I will stop the rain. For blue skies, I want to run away with Rio Dizon. We will haunt that elusive happiness and ever-fleeting Beauty Poe talks about in his Poetic Principle. For blue skies, Imma sing my heart out on U2’s Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For. I’m going to meet Johnny Rzeznik before I turn twenty-nine. For blue skies, I’m gonna name my future son Nolin. For blue, blue skies….

For blue skies, I want to run. I will not shove my head inside a microwave oven. For blue skies, I will not put rocks in my pocket and drown. I want to stop thinking that jumping off from the 12th floor isn’t as bad as jumping off from the 17th floor. For blue skies, there’s gonna be a thirteenth floor on every building I shall get into. What’s up with all the bad luck attributed on 13 anyway WHEN MY JERSEY NUMBER IS 13? For blue skies, I will hunt down that person who told me I write well. I want to lock myself in my room with coke and iced tea on both hands and drown in the music of Coheed and Cambria and Belle & Sebastian. For blue skies, I want to conquer Mt. Pulag once again, on a February day, and die on an attempt to lie on the bed of clouds. For blue skies, I will stop the rain. For blue skies, I want to run away with Rio Dizon. We will haunt that elusive happiness and ever-fleeting Beauty Poe talks about in his Poetic Principle. For blue skies, Imma sing my heart out on U2’s Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For. I’m going to meet Johnny Rzeznik before I turn twenty-nine. For blue skies, I’m gonna name my future son Nolin.

For blue, blue skies….

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why don’t you slide between the sheets of all those beds (bitches) you never knew. just slide into my room, why don’t you slide into my room?

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This photo reminds me of one of the short stories I used in my undergrad thesis: The Woman on the Steeple. The woman, distraught over the loss of her newborn child, climbed the church’s steeple and shouted curses to the heavens. When she was brought down and questioned, she said that she wanted to get as close to the heavens, if that’s the only way for God to hear her. *photo courtesy of Madhur, my Indian friend. Thanks for this, dude.

This photo reminds me of one of the short stories I used in my undergrad thesis: The Woman on the Steeple. The woman, distraught over the loss of her newborn child, climbed the church’s steeple and shouted curses to the heavens. When she was brought down and questioned, she said that she wanted to get as close to the heavens, if that’s the only way for God to hear her.

*photo courtesy of Madhur, my Indian friend. Thanks for this, dude.

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A flaneur is a person who walks in the city in order to experience it. He finds himself immersed in the crowd, but does not really belong in it. A detached observer, he is part of and apart from a city which he explores. Charles Baudelaire theorized flaneur in his The Painter of Modern Life in which he conceptualized a man whose curiosity is so keen that it draws him into a crowd, and the same time remain outside of it, being able to think outside of this crowd and thereby examine it, and make it an inexhaustible reservoir of astonishment and inspiration. Baudelaire’s flaneur, though an idler and a dandy, is a man of the crowd. I am not a flaneur. I stay away from the spectacle because, no matter how I fill myself up with energy every morning when I wake up, it will always end up being sucked by the immense and unforgiving whirlpool of everyday, and of the people I meet, and of the crowd that makes me feel small. I went to the UST Graduate School today. I don’t think there is a chance that I’d get accepted, having waited for until the last minute of the deadline before submitting my credentials and application papers. GS is very tough for crammers. I’m not ready for it. I walked. I walked alone or with a companion. While walking with Paolo in Trinoma earlier this day I shared with him what I was thinking. I wanted to think. I have been wanting a long time to think.But I’d say you’ll feel lonely, very lonely, in your room. Failure is hardly pleasant company. And the unpleasantness I cannot cure. But oh, the loneliness… the loneliness maybe?

A flaneur is a person who walks in the city in order to experience it. He finds himself immersed in the crowd, but does not really belong in it. A detached observer, he is part of and apart from a city which he explores. Charles Baudelaire theorized flaneur in his The Painter of Modern Life in which he conceptualized a man whose curiosity is so keen that it draws him into a crowd, and the same time remain outside of it, being able to think outside of this crowd and thereby examine it, and make it an inexhaustible reservoir of astonishment and inspiration. Baudelaire’s flaneur, though an idler and a dandy, is a man of the crowd.

I am not a flaneur. I stay away from the spectacle because, no matter how I fill myself up with energy every morning when I wake up, it will always end up being sucked by the immense and unforgiving whirlpool of everyday, and of the people I meet, and of the crowd that makes me feel small.

I went to the UST Graduate School today. I don’t think there is a chance that I’d get accepted, having waited for until the last minute of the deadline before submitting my credentials and application papers. GS is very tough for crammers. I’m not ready for it.

I walked. I walked alone or with a companion. While walking with Paolo in Trinoma earlier this day I shared with him what I was thinking. I wanted to think. I have been wanting a long time to think.

But I’d say you’ll feel lonely, very lonely, in your room. Failure is hardly pleasant company. And the unpleasantness I cannot cure. But oh, the loneliness… the loneliness maybe?

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Infinitesimal :) Mt. Pico De Loro Valentines Day Overnight Hike 2010

Infinitesimal :)

Mt. Pico De Loro Valentines Day Overnight Hike 2010

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Until the seas run dry, I’ll worship you and more.Pocket watch from Celine. It’s just like the one from Somewhere in Time with Lent come days of solitude even when i’m not a believer. it’s a season of grief, abeyance, when all i do is wait. to me it’s beautiful.
Until the seas run dry, I’ll worship you and more.
Pocket watch from Celine. It’s just like the one from Somewhere in Time

with Lent come days of solitude even when i’m not a believer. it’s a season of grief, abeyance, when all i do is wait. to me it’s beautiful.

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I’m going to wake up with this guilt for the rest of my life.

I’m going to wake up with this guilt for the rest of my life.

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When I woke up this morning, I found these bells hanging on my door. I’m not a fan of christmas, so I’m against putting decorations all over the house. This christmas is going to be the worst one for me by far.

When I woke up this morning, I found these bells hanging on my door.

I’m not a fan of christmas, so I’m against putting decorations all over the house. This christmas is going to be the worst one for me by far.

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Do not confuse love with cholera.
Florentino Ariza, from Love in the Time of Cholera ()
illustrated by my classmate in soccer class, Zeus Bascon “gods eat other gods”

illustrated by my classmate in soccer class, Zeus Bascon

“gods eat other gods”

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