I know I've made a lot of bad decisions in the past but tonight... God. Tonight was one of those rare moments in life when you think, "Hey, I'm on the right path. I'm where I'm supposed to be right now."


I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow, if anything's gonna pull through, but this moment alone is worth every bad day and every wrong decision. I realize now that those wrong decisions weren't really wrong actually, that ultimately they were good and have led me here, in this good place... Sorry, I am just, really happy right now, it's so fucking corny :)) I don't think I'm even making sense :))

And I'm so... Just, lately, I've been beating myself up a lot about a lot of things and, feeling this way is a nice break. :] Thank you, thank you.

It makes me sad that I haven't written here in a while. Because I don't really understand why.





It's not because of a lack of activity, a lot has been going on, good and bad and great, and I've made some mistakes again, and decisions that I thought were okay. It's just that, I haven't felt like writing. At all. Or more like, I don't know what to say.

I have this theory that maybe it's because everything's happening so fast (I've actually been making them go faster than they need to). Everything's been happening so fast and, I'm too overwhelmed to say anything...

... That makes me sound like I'm constantly lost at sea or something, but, in my defense, it's not constantly. It's just, once in a while. I guess, I'm not used to being so uncertain. I sorta thought that I left this kind of uncertainty in grade school.

But anyway, here's to getting back on my feet. Uncertainty be damned.

Religulous, a documentary by Larry Charles

BILL MAHER:

The irony of religion is that because of its power to divert man to destructive courses, the world could actually come to an end. The plain fact is, religion must die for mankind to live. The hour is getting very late to be able to indulge having in key decisions made by religious people. By irrationalists, by those who would steer the ship of state not by a compass, but by the equivalent of reading the entrails of a chicken. George Bush prayed a lot about Iraq, but he didn't learn a lot about it. Faith means making a virtue out of not thinking. It's nothing to brag about. And those who preach faith, and enable and elevate it are intellectual slaveholders, keeping mankind in a bondage to fantasy and nonsense that has spawned and justified so much lunacy and destruction. Religion is dangerous because it allows human beings who don't have all the answers to think that they do. Most people would think it's wonderful when someone says, "I'm willing, Lord! I'll do whatever you want me to do!" Except that since there are no gods actually talking to us, that void is filled in by people with their own corruptions and limitations and agendas. And anyone who tells you they know, they just know what happens when you die, I promise you, you don't. How can I be so sure? Because I don't know, and you do not possess mental powers that I do not. The only appropriate attitude for man to have about the big questions is not the arrogant certitude that is the hallmark of religion, but doubt. Doubt is humble, and that's what man needs to be, considering that human history is just a litany of getting shit dead wrong. This is why rational people, anti-religionists, must end their timidity and come out of the closet and assert themselves. And those who consider themselves only moderately religious really need to look in the mirror and realize that the solace and comfort that religion brings you comes at a horrible price. If you belonged to a political party or a social club that was tied to as much bigotry, misogyny, homophobia, violence, and sheer ignorance as religion is, you'd resign in protest. To do otherwise is to be an enabler, a mafia wife, for the true devils of extremism that draw their legitimacy from the billions of their fellow travelers. If the world does come to an end here, or wherever, or if it limps into the future, decimated by the effects of religion-inspired nuclear terrorism, let's remember what the real problem was. We learned how to precipitate mass death before we got past the neurological disorder of wishing for it. That's it. Grow up or die.

+MR. CHESS as performed by Lauren Pritchard, Johnny Gallagher Jr., and Duncan Sheik

"So good to meet you, Mr. Chess. I've always heard that you're the best at housing knights and castles high up in the air. So I beseech you, Mr. Chess, to let me sleep inside your bed. And would you sleep too, would you sleep too in the chair? You see, I dream of may things. Of floating, solitary kings. Of pawns and people with blue sequins through their hair. The jester sings, the bishop brings the queen a hollow following and all the pawns and people stop and people stare.

So, I too stop at 3 o'clock. I stumble to your door and knock and ask to see you, ask to be you, Mr. Chess. Oh, Mr. Chess. Now, I beseech you, Mr. Chess, to let me sleep, to let me rest, to let me dream, to let me sing without a care."






I'm so in love with Johnny Gallagher Jr. right now. The fact that he plays good music is just a plus. If you're a boy and can't relate, listen to this to hear Lauren Pritchard's voice. It's amazing.

Stuck at the airport, waiting for my flight to Singapore.

I haven't really had the time to rest I guess, we got home from PlanSem yesterday and I think I'm still hung over. Not literally, though my appetite has been missing since Saturday thanks to fucking drinking games and my ever reliable losing streak. Probably just a little tired. I can't seem to get myself too excited about Singapore, but maybe that'll change when I get some sleep on the plane.

Aside from that, my sembreak hasn't really been all that productive. A Titininene production is in the works, but that's about it. When I get back, it'll sorta be a different story though, so it might be a good idea to reserve energy. Which is why I'm gonna shut up now, cause, expressing certain things, the things on my mind, it requires energy and recognition and labeling and missing and... eh. Shrug. I'm lazy.






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While he was in kindergarten, everybody wanted to play
the tomtoms when it came time for that. You had to
run in order to get there first, and he would not.
So he always had a triangle. He does not remember
how they played the tomtoms, but he sees clearly
their Chinese look. Red with dragons front and back
and gold studs around that held the drumhead tight.
If you had a triangle, you didn’t really make music.
You mostly waited while the tambourines and tomtoms
went on a long time. Until there was a signal for all
triangle people to hit them the right way. Usually once.
Then it was tomtoms and waiting some more. But what
he remembers is the sound of the triangle. A perfect,
shimmering sound that has lasted all his long life.
Fading out and coming again after a while. Getting lost
and the waiting for it to come again. Waiting meaning
without things. Meaning love sometimes dying out,
sometimes being taken away. Meaning that often he lives
silent in the middle of the world’s music. Waiting
for the best to come again. Beginning to hear the silence
as he waits. Beginning to like the silence maybe too much.

- Jack Gilbert, Waiting and Finding

I think I was a freshman when I decided that I didn't want to gossip about people anymore. Or ever. It was just... logical to me. I mean, why do that? Aside from the fact that it's really not any of your business, it's fucking tiring knowing things. And, y'know, I wouldn't want anyone talking about me either. So from then on, I just tried my best not to gossip about anyone. I failed sometimes, but overall, I was pretty good at it. I am pretty good at it. And what I learned, ironically, is that gossip is a necessary evil.

"Knowing" things is a way of being a part of the other person's life, regardless of how you got your information, cause when you take part of all the knowledge-sharing going on, even on some superficial level, you're involved. You're a caring party. How could you be involved if you don't know anything? For example, immediately and until now, I still feel the consequences of avoiding gossip. You're outside of the circle. You're distanced. You don't really know what to say. The worst is that they think you don't care. It's like, being a hermit, except, without the house and the mountains and the beard. And the wood-chopping.

I don't really know how I feel about this exactly, but knowing there's a compromise to be made makes me sad. Gossiping as some twisted sort of social obligation between acquaintances. Gossiping as a source of solidarity. Sometimes I think maybe I'm just that antisocial, or that lazy. But, eh. Whatever. I'm stubborn. My granpa wants to become a hermit and live in the woods in Baguio, maybe I got all this from him.