Archive for November, 2007

writers in a dangerous time*

Thursday, November 29th, 2007

* with all due respect to the barenaked ladies.

the fact is, i woke this morning at quarter to ten. my girlfriend is sick, and i had forgotten to buy her cough meds. and so i got up, braved the flood spawned by the rains earlier in the morning, and queued up at the nearest mercury outlet at kingswood. i picked up pancakes at mcdo on the way back. i was bracing myself for a very sick, rainy thursday.

by the time i got back home, my phone was already ringing. it’s my dad. “asan ka na,” he’s asking. apparently, he’s somewhere in bohol. “anong balita diyan?” my father’s ‘what’s up’ calls have been more frequent lately, owing perhaps to the recent series of bombings at Glorietta and Batasan and the typhoons and everything else.

“anong anong balita?” i asked. “i just woke up.”

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yes, it’s called Desire

Thursday, November 22nd, 2007

happy twogether

don’t waste no time / the streets are on fire / hold out your arms / yes, it’s called Desire. -leona naess

Protected: conflict-manage *this*

Wednesday, November 21st, 2007

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and now, for your news roundup

Saturday, November 17th, 2007

i don’t have enough time to write something pretty about this heartbreak, now that Dulce Saguisag has been laid to rest, and her husband of almost half a century was not even well enough to take a look at her one last time. the report on her final rites brought tears to my eyes. (kamusta naman yun mga mareng alli at tarra, diba? hagulgulan nation, come on) hits way too close to home, i suppose.

as their eldest son, rebo, put it: why do bad things happen to good people? makes me wonder too. i was 12 when i delivered my mother’s eulogy ten years ago. can’t remember what i said, everything was kind of hazy. i wish i had the foresight to keep that paper i had written it on.

anyway.

and now for this: We’re not gay -Sam and Piolo.

okay. suppose it’s true. suppose sam and piolo *are* straight. then the fact that they have been accused wrongly of something may perhaps justify the libel charge against lolit solis.

here’s the thing that bothers me though. when people go about accusing other people of being geniuses, for example — even if they really weren’t — would anybody bother filing a libel case, granted that this was technically a wrong accusation? of course not.

which brings me to another thing that bothers me - why is being labeled gay automatically taken as a negative imputation of sorts? i mean, eto na lang eh, i think i’d really have high respect for a public figure who would openly admit to homosexuality. seriously. aminin na lang kasi para wala nang intriga, igagalang pa kita.

again, dorkage

Friday, November 16th, 2007

the saying, “Code is poetry” more than does it for me, really.

one of these days, i’ll find my way back to one of my first loves, HTML. *sigh* promise, babalikan kita… promise.

so yeah, just making a note here that i changed my layout after god knows how many months. that last one was just *so* comfortable, it was difficult to replace it. add that to the fact that the elections and the despedidas and the girlfriend happened, so go figure. (excuses, excuses)

but yeah. to mark my dotcom blog’s birthday (!!!) it’s kind of like buying it a new dress. or tie. or whatever. =)

so that header image (i still owe myself some 4 others, since the headers sort of… um, rotate? or something. basta.) i took myself, it’s the UP track oval behind the bahay ng alumni. the quote is hopefully properly attributed.

so there.

ps — iba talaga ang tibok ng puso ko sa phrase na, Code is poetry. parang kinikilig na ewan.

[–!dorkage ends here–]

you are all the air around me

Friday, November 9th, 2007

Or, alternatively, the art of (not) holding back

Rene Saguisag’s wife died yesterday. It was a car accident. It was dark because that’s how the wee hours of the morning are, and then there was a truck. They had just come from a night of dancing. The impact killed Dulce Saguisag on the spot. At the time of writing, the former senator is still in the hospital.

I can’t help but wonder, how does one live after surviving alone from such tragedy? I remember Carlo Cruz, whose wife died in last month’s Glorietta 2 blast. I remember reading the email he sent that e-group to inform them that his wife had been one of the fatalities. I remember him writing his many “I should have’s.” The thing left tears in my eyes and a billion questions in my head.

I wonder how they spent their last mornings together. Was it better they did not know it was ending that day, that night? Or would they have preferred to have had at least a clue?

How does one live after being with someone for so long, and then having to wake up one day without that person?

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