MSC FX: Jann Arden – Insensitive

I have this friend who is preggie. Although the pregnancy wasn’t intended (protection folks!), she’s keeping it. She said she hasn’t told everyone yet of her condition, just the people involved. Not the she has an obligation to proclaim it to the world or whatsoever, and whether she does or not, that’s her prerogative.

The other day, she was approached by her classmate and her classmate’s friend and asked if she’s pregnant. I believe they said, “Buntis ka ba? Halata naman kaya, ba’t di mo pa aminin?

Eff, aye?

Gad, it is none of their business whether she’s carrying a baby inside her or just hiding a big squash underneath her dress. You don’t ask whether a woman is preggie or not, PERIOD. You just don’t. Napakabastos nu’n and it’s an invasion of people’s private lives. Maybe the “Buntis ka ba?” part is still forgiveable. Maybe. But to actualy accuse you of lying? Daarn.

If it was me in her position, hah, they’ll regret the moment they opened their mouths. They should be grateful my friend is a lot nicer than me.

Some girls, huh?

Look me in the eye

“Mga awards mo? Lunukin mo!”

- Odette Khan

R.I.P., MJ!

I spent this morning reminiscing Michael Jackson and what a big impact he turned out to have on his fans’ lives. Some hadn’t really experienced death yet, but when his finally happened, it had to be one of the worst.

An article showing how the world mourns over his death:

LONDON – Michael Jackson was due to make his triumphant return to the stage in London next month — but instead his sudden death has left millions of fans feeling they’ve lost a lifelong friend.

The dramatic death of the brilliant singer seemed to obscure his recent controversies and kindle warmer memories of Jackson the child star and Jackson the show-stopping, moonwalking headliner.

The worldwide chorus of grief united the famous — statesmen and superstars alike — and the legions of ordinary people who grew up with “Thriller” and “Beat It.”

Word of Jackson’s death jolted nearly everyone, from a young man in Colombia who was named after the King of Pop, to Malaysians who named a soy drink for him, to a generation of people around the world who have tried, in vain, to moonwalk. (more..)

Long live the King of Pop!

Might as well be aliens

It’s been a while since I last thought about him. It seems like the intervals between remembering him are getting longer and longer. It used to be every second, every minute, now it’s every few days.. which is actually cool. Every time I lapse back into thinking about him and everything that happened, I realize how immature I was back in those days. I acted as if I had known him so well… but in reality I was just a little girl who was afraid to lose someone she really loved and adored.

Now, though I’m not sure how much I’ve learned, I realize I’ve come a long way since then. I’m stronger now. When I talk about him, my friends think it’s a painful topic, but actually it’s a topic that has made me a wiser girl woman.

Anyway, it’s just been a while. Eight more days. Then… 3 months.

2:45am

According to my taskbar, that’s what the time is right now. Perhaps I should be going to bed, like now na.

Fine, I’ll collapse into my bed.

I can’t believe I wasted two minutes of my time typing –and pausing in between words– this. I really am good at shilly-shallying, huh?

I just looked outside and still it’s raining hard. Anyway it only means one thing: crazy road conditions tomorrow.

See, that’s 5 minutes blown.

————–

I know I should internalize all my feelings. Knowing myself though, I can’t internalize anything. I’m unable to compartmentalize. I’m unable to just keep it in, because when I’m angry, everyone apparently has to know.

Well, though a lot of people know how I feel, I’m trying to compartmentalize and internalize. I’m tired of people telling me how disgusting I am. Eff.

A Cab Ride

Seated in separate ways
As the taxicab lurches slowly
From light-to-light through
The traffic of my inner-mind
I watched the grey shadows
Of your long-skirt hide smooth nyloned thighs
Kept safe from my glances
As I regarded your sensible ‘walking’ sneakers
Designed for  ambulant respectable comfort
Unlike my satiny lavender visions
Of your fantastic feet
In sharp-stiletto pricking fetish of my fantasies
All the while rooted to this floor
Of practiced severe civility

And I wished we would hurry
To careen in a race-car rondo
Down some forbidden street
The roar at checkered start of EDSA
To ‘snake’ in-and-out
Circumnavigating city streets and lanes
Your legs spread open and wide
An invitation to a wishbone
Waiting to be cracked and parted
The leather smell of damp sex
Hovers in my deepest dreams
To clutch that illicit edge of lovely terror
Far from that boring backseat of vinyl here

At last at our appointed dinner place
A posh French bistro
The driver didn’t nod or speak
But he must have read my thoughts
He grinned like salty Lot’s wife
Frozen forever in the knowledge
That the cuisine this evening
Brought beads of sweat to consecrate my brow
To glow reddish-brown like some goatish shaven dome
Still not hotter or more able to stir up
Than the secret visions of my taxicab

————

Image from http://www.jezblog.com/

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Get ready for the real thing!

Launching in July!

Not yet over it

.. but I will be, SOON.

I’m currently living in a world of shock.

Every single emotion that I’ve had for the past 9-10 months are flooding into me all at once. Some moments I’m happy. Some moments I’m sad. Some moments I’m excited. Some moments I’m depressed. Some moments I’m angry. Some moments I’m embarrassed. Some moments I’m content…

It’s just one big blah.

Sir Neil Garcia : Nothing lasts.

Sure. I gotta fix this problem VERY SOON. Or else, I might just hide in a hole.

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