Wouldn't it be nice?

Since 2010 started a little heavy for me, I thought I could use some good vibrations. What I did was I downloaded a few Beach Boys songs and so I'm now dancing to Surfin' USA.

"If everybody had an ocean/ Across the U.S.A./ Then everybody'd be surfin'/ Like californ-I-A/ You'd see 'em wearin' their baggies/ Huarachi sandals, too/ A bushy bushy blonde hairdo/ Surfin' U.S.A."

I know baggies, huarachi sandals and bushy, bushy blonde hairdo sounds like a manong hippie with toasted wrinkly skin. But listening to the song at 4 in the morning on a cold January night is actually quite fun. This despite the fact that the song immediately reminds me of a horrible summer production number complete with celebrities singing off-key while dressed in tacky Hawaiian shirts.

"Well she got her daddy's car/ And she cruised through the hamburger stand now/ Seems she forgot all about the library/ Like she told her old man now/ And with the radio blasting/ Goes cruising as fast as she can now/ And she'll have fun, fun, fun till her daddy takes the T-bird away..."

That's "Fun, Fun, Fun" by the way. The bubblegum beat goes straight into my brain and assures me of an LSS to last an entire week. My daddy had a T-bird once actually which I saw parked in his house in Katipunan. The car's unusual passenger door (baliktad kung buksan) and its huge front with Batcar-like designs fascinated me endlessly. But of course, what I'm listening to over and over again right now is "Wouldn't It Be Nice." The bouncy beat and the dreamy tone of the song fills me with longing. In fact, I'm waiting for the boyfriend to wake up so I could play it at full blast.

"Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up/ In the morning when the day is new/ And after having spent the day together/ Hold each other close the whole night through/ Happy times togehter we've been spending/ I wish that every kiss was never ending/ Wouldn't it be nice?"

Then we could be married and be happy? That would be nice as well although I never believed in marriage much less in homo-marriage. But pure yellow sunshine and vast, clear blue skies in the morning and cool breeze and beer in the evening with nothing to think about but the good life? That would certainly be nice. No, it would be heaven.

Oh well. It's 4:26am on a Sunday and I haven't done anything yet. Time to turn off the Beach Boys and go back to work.


galing dito ang litrato: artwall.us/scenic/tropical/images/sunset.jpg

Paging Carl Jung

1.


The scene was straight out of Love Story, the bit where Warren and his lady love dropped by Katherine Hepburn's house in some beautiful island. There were verdant hills everywhere and the sky above was like a vast empty blue space, like an infinite ocean.

I walk down the valley where there were a couple of glass houses (or houses made of glass) . I was talking to some people when I hear a faint Natalie Merchant song. I excused myself to find where the music was coming from. It was already dusk and I thought it would be just lovely to sit and listen to the song while watching the sun slip into the horizon. My search led me to a young man living in one of the glass houses. I asked him if he could turn the stereo louder. We went inside the house and I was immediately impressed with the interiors. The walls were made of glass as well and I could clearly see the hills from the living room. It was small and a bit cluttered and everywhere I looked there were books of all kinds. "Eto ang dream house ko," I thought to myself.

After a few minutes, we went outside again. He was shy and I just realized it now that he bears some resemblance to my first boyfriend. He was mumbling something. He asked me if I wanted to stay over the night and if I did he said I could sleep in his room. Then we were off, walking towards the hills, looking for a space to fuck.

2.


Nasa QC Circle ako lulan ng isang jeepney. Kasama ko ang kaibigan kong si Lany. Sabi niya: Remember the crisis that we went through in the '90s? Sa isip isip ko, what crisis? You weren't in a crisis. I was in a crisis. Katabi namin ay isang baklang teacher at ang kaibigan niyang babae. May welga na naman, sabi niya.

We were now in Espana. "Hayaan mo sila," sabi ni professora. "Bigyan ko nga sila ng uno dahil sumasama sila sa rally."

Nasa isang malaking bed kami. Ako, ang ka-opisina kong lesbiyana, si professora at ang kaibigan naman niyang lesbiyana rin. The two lesbians were talking about love.

"If she's ok then why are you still looking for another one," sabi ng isa.

"Nagka-syota ka na ng artista? Siguro masaya yun," singit naman ng kasama ko. Hindi ako nakikinig. I was somehow transfixed at a dark, empty apartment on the fourth floor. i knew it was abandoned because i was forever spying on it when i still lived in the area. Nakabukas lahat ng bintana at pintuan at ang makikita mo lang ay ang kadiliman sa loob nito. Then nakita ko siya. Isang babaeng naka-white, mahaba ang buhok biglang nag-cross ng room. Then another sighting. Para siyang paikot ikot sa loob ng apartment. I realized that she was dancing. Binubulong ko na sa mga kasama ko: Nakita mo siya? Nakita mo siya? Nakita rin nila.

Then I am on our bed, facing my boyfriend. I could see him dreaming as well. Nakita mo siya? tanong ko sa kanya. Bigla akong nakaramdaman na may isang taong tumabi sa akin at yumakap. "Siya na ba ito?" tanong ko sa boyfriend ko who kept on dreaming. "Siya na ba ito?"

Then I woke up and heard my boyfriend talking in his sleep.

3.

my boyfriend and i were going to an orgy. he was reluctant but still i kept on telling him that it would be fun. the place was a little shabby and the guys were mostly unattractive. the boyfriend began making out with a rather cute kid while i stood in some corner eyeing other men. the host was beside me, playing with a gun. suddenly it goes off and hits the kid who was with my boyfriend. when i saw blood come out of the kid's head, i immediately grabbed my boyfriend's hand and went out of the house. for some reason, we were fleeing like fugitives. i didn't want to be implicated with the accident.

4.

My eyes were bleeding. Blood was streaking down my face like a black Max Factor mascara. My boyfriend was there but he didn't seem too alarmed. I remember taking note of the color of the blood. It wasn't red at all. It was darker, more like maroon.

5.

My mother keeps dreaming of dogs. Evil dogs who bare their teeth inches away from her face. I take it that the dogs were huge and black and slicked with slime. Apparently, she woke the entire household a few days ago when she let out a scream in her sleep. A few days before that she dreamed of dog turds scattered all over her backyard.

Meanwhile I dream of Piolo Pascual. In my dream, I was trying my best not to bring up the subject of men. I go around in circles, asking him artsy-fartsy questions when all I wanted to know is if he is really into guys.



The illustration above is from Carl Jung's "Red Book." Apparently, Jung wrote and illustrated his dreams between 1914 and 1930 when he decided to retreat from the academe. Although Jung considered that period of his life as an experiment ("a voluntary confrontation with the unconscious," sabi sa Wikipedia), some of his biographers are still wondering if he was, in fact, undergoing a psychotic episode at that time. The illustrations were kept in a vault until recently when it was published in the US.

Just shoot me

The boyfriend took the photo above. My brother’s SLR has been sitting in our room for months and I thought I should return it already. And since it still had a few shots left in it, my boyfriend and I took turns in photographing ourselves. Most of my photos were blah but his were very promising. Didn’t know he had an eye for photography. In fact, I was so in love with his photos that I think I should put him through photography school chos. I told him that if I were to die tonight or tomorrow or anytime in the next century he should use the photo for the funeral because, well, I was essentially thinking of heaven when it was taken --- A warm afternoon in downtown Morocco with hashish escaping from my dry, bitter mouth.

pretty in blue

Mula dito:



Naging ganito:



from intercontinental drama:



to intergalactic love affair:





There is this comic book, which I read in Carlo Vergara's blog about a superhero who has the ability to turn himself into any bird. Yes, any bird. Sabi nga ni Vergara sa kanyang entry, anong gagawin niya sa power na ito kung ang kalaban niya ay may mga megarobots from hell, turn into maya maya perhaps? But his superpower came in handy when a certain species of dinasaur in a far-flung planet were about to go extinct. The plan was for him to mate with one of the dinasaurs and hopefully inject his morphing abilities into their DNA strain. So off he went to this planet in search of a mate. Eventually he found one but the female dinosaur didn't want anything to do with him since she already has a partner to begin with. What this stupid superhero did was to fight off the boyfriend and then force himself into the female dinosaur. Yes, it's all about murder and rape. It was quite fun and believe me, insanely funny.

I was actually reminded of this comic book when I saw Avatar, James Cameron's megablockbuster. I've been hearing alot about the movie for the past few days. One even sent a text message to a friend saying that it was "stupendous." Stupendous in what way? I thought. Nakakagulat dahil ang ganda ganda o nakakagulat dahil ang mahal mahal tapos yun lang yun? Now that I have seen Avatar, I thought it was... pretty. Oo, pretty. From the beautiful violet pamaypay on top of the those elephant-like creatures na para lang nanggaling lang sa art department ng Priscilla Queen of the Desert to the floating jellyfishes hanggang sa mga diamonds sa blue skin ng mga Na'vi. Pati nga ang prints sa mga flying inkara ang ganda. Masayang gawing bag. In fact, I also found Sam Worthington's avatar version cuter. When he turns into himself, natu-turn off na ako. Pandora is also lovely: all those neocolors, all shimmery and Rainbow Britey. It made me think what I will experience if I were to watch the movie na bangag. I once read that when 2001: A Space Odyssey came out, the stoners would watch the movie for the trippy effects.

Avatar's plot is thin enough that everybody can project their own take on what it is really about. Some say it's anti-war, which it is. Others say it's about the environment. Well, of course. Some say it's racist, what with the Na'vis sporting dreadlocks and tribal accessories. One critic even went out to accuse Avatar as a bit racist. Why, he asks, does the white man have to lead the Na'vis into their salvation? But then it's always been like that in American movies, isn't it? After all, the movie is geared towards American audiences and in order for them to willingly take the journey one should always put one of them in the lead. Second, I think if it wasn't Jake who led the resistance, James Cameron would have probably been accused of as anti-American. Sino nga naman ang villian kung hindi ang corporate America?

For me, basically, I saw Avatar as a retelling of Pocahontas. John Smith arrives in Pandora, finds exotic creatures and gets it on with the natives. There is even a scene in the movie where I actually thought there were going to sing "Colors of the Wind" ("You think you own the land that you land on...). Avatar was so predictable that I thought the movie was three hours long. It only picks up when action ensues, something that James Cameron is quite good at. In fact, I thought the best thing about "Titanic" was when it sank. Come to think of it, I think I enjoyed "True Lies" more than Titanic and Avatar. At least in that movie, the humor was snappy and witty and fresh. Eh sa Avatar, ano ang joke? That he came from the Jarhead clan? Har. Har. Har. Near the end of the movie, as the Na'vis were fighting with humans I was already looking for the exit.

On our way home, my boyfriend and I talked about other possible titles for Avatar.

"Revenge of the Smurfs?"

"Baka pwedeng Colors of the Wind."

"Hmmm... Neocolors of the Wind."

"Rage against the machines?"

"Too manly. Pwede kayang 'I see you?'"

And so on and so forth.

But the boyfriend was completely taken with the movie. He thought it was about the proletarian insurgence against the evil empire. "Si James Cameron isang communista," sabi niya. Uh, ok. "Walang binatbat sa favorite movie of the year mo." When he said that, my eyes lit up completely. I was suddenly reminded of the scenes of my most favorite movie ever! At least yun, ang galing galing ng acting, ang ganda ang plot, masaya, exciting from beginning to end. May action, drama, suspense and the script was brilliant. Simply brilliant. Of course, I'm taking about the best movie of 2009 with the lead actress surely winning the Urian, Famas, Golden Screen at Young Critics Circle for Best Actress. It's no other than Kimmy Dora!

for you i was a flame

With her hair wet from the shower, she steps into her kitchen and sits before the dinning table. It's already five in the afternoon and the room is covered in shadows. She collects her hair and ties them in a bun. She could still feel the summer heat coming in and wondered if the night would be as hot as yesterday. She takes out a stick from her pack and puts it on her lips. She reaches for her lighter and flicks it. A small flame illuminates her face as she bends down to light her cigarette. She could hear the tight little leaves burn as she took her first sip. From the living room she now hears the record she has put on earlier. The drum sticks fall briskly and suddenly a beat arises. The guitar was barely introduced when the singer, her life evident in her coarse, lovelorn voice, began singing.

"For you I was a flame... love is a losing game..."

She stares into the deepening darkness and immediately gets lost in her own groove.

The music continues, traveling across the building like a thin smoke. A young man hears it and ponders at the lyrics. "Fire-story fire as you came," he mutters to himself. "Love is a losing game? What does that mean?" Another man enters the room.

"What?" he asks him. "You were talking to me?"

"No, I was just thinking aloud."

His face was already red from all the beer they have drunk that afternoon. The other man sidles next to him and suddenly he feels his heart beat faster.

"Are you ok?" the man asks him.

"Just a little drunk."

The man smiles and climbs further into the bed. He takes his shirt off and takes out his cigarettes.

"Why don't you come near me?" the man instructs him.

He takes off his shoes and sits beside him. He could feel sweat breaking all over his body.

"I was just thinking," he tells him. "I was just thinking..."

"What were you thinking?"

"Well, it's already five and I was wondering if she has already picked up the kids from school."

The man looks at him disappointingly and lights another stick.

"You want one?"

He doesn't smoke and wonders if he will ever pick up the habit. He accepts anyway and leans back, sucking in the smoke for the very first time. The nicotine goes straight into his head and suddenly he feels even woozier. The man looks straight into his eyes and smiles again.

"Why don't you take off your shirt," the man tells him. He shouldn't really be doing this. He really shouldn't be in this room, in this situation but there he was, touching the man's hand as he helps him with his shirt.

"I should be at home with the wife and kids," he tells the man. "I should be at the table, waiting for dinner..."

"Tell them you went out with your buddy," says the man as he touches the fringes of his skin.

"I shouldn't be doing this," he tells him. "I shouldn't be with you..."

The man traces the outlines of his shoulder and moves his fingers to his chest. He could feel every nerve in his body come alive.

"I really shouldn't be here..."

"Let's just say we're experimenting, finding out what will happen if I do this..."

Suddenly, the man's lips were on his neck. Despite himself, he leans back and lets him have it.

He could now hear the song again. "Why do I wish I have never played," the woman sings. "O what a mess we have made..."

His entire body begins to open up, letting the man step further and further into him.

"You like this don't you," he tells him. But before he could answer, he has kissed him full on the lips. He was already losing control.

"We'll meet again, will we?" he asks the man.

"Of course, we will."

The man grabs his pants and jerks it down.

"When will we meet again?"

"We can do this as often as you like."

He takes off the man's pants.

"But aren't you moving away?"

"Let's just enjoy this."

"But you can't just leave me like this."

The man kisses him on the lips again, effectively shutting him up. He grabs him closer and bites him all over his body. He has never been this hungry before, never been as voracious.

The man stops him for a moment. For the very first time since they began making love, he looks at him straight in the eye. Memories of the wife and kids linger briefly in his mind. The man dives into his chest and he finds himself giggling. The man travels deeper down his body. He lay with his eyes firmly shut and with his hands touching the man's wet hair.

"Played out by the band..." sings a gigly teenager from a floor below.

"Is she playing that song again?" answers her friend.

"She never gets tired of it!" she barks into the phone. "I swear."

"I kind of like Amy Winehouse."

"Aimee Whinehouse you mean?"

The girl at the other end laughs.

"Hey, did Chase show up at the fair?"

"Where did you find him?"

"He's cute, isn't he?"

The girl didn't answer back.

"I actually met him online."

"Ah, where? what site?"

"In a chat room. It was like one in the morning and I was happily chatting away with some guy from UP and then he macked me."

"This isn't one of your sexcapades is it?"

"How I wish. I really like him."

"Do you really like him as in really, really like him?"

"Well, I don't know. It depends."

"It depends on what?"

"I don't know."

"I have something to tell you."

"What?"

"Remember when you introduced him to us last Saturday? At Dencios? Remember?"

"Of course, I remember. That was just five days ago. Why? Did something happen?"

"Well..."

"Well what?"

"I'm telling you this because we're really good friends."

"Yes?"

"Well..."

"Well what?"

"I know you're going to hate me for this."

Silence.

"Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here. I'm just waiting for what you are going to say. The suspense is killing me, ok!"

"He was with us right?"

"Yes, I know that he was with us. What did he do? Does this even concern me?"

"Well..."

"Well what? Just blurt it out. I can handle it. We've been friends for like five years. Did he hook up with someone?"

"Well... he tried."

Silence.

"Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here. I just need to sort out the cord. The music is getting on my nerves."

"You know what, I really shouldn't be telling you this..."

"Well, you have already told me something so you might as well tell me everything."

The music continues to echo. "Memories mar my mind," the woman sings. "Love is faith resigned..."

"She is really getting on my nerves!"

"Just ignore her ok."

"I'm trying ok. I'm really, really trying."

"So now you are upset. I can't tell you now or else you are going to be pissed off."

"Don't be stupid. I'm not going to be pissed off."

"Well, you already are."

"Just tell me goddammit!"

"Ok. Ok. I'm going to tell you already!"

"What is it then?"

"Well, he sent a text to me."

"So?"

"He's asking me out."

"What?"

"I said I thought he was with you. Well, are you?"

Silence.

"Still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here."

"Well, I asked him how he got my number and he said he got it from you. Did you give it to him?"

"No. He didn't ask for it."

Silence.

"He was playing with my phone. Maybe that's when he got your number."

"Oh."

"Over futile hours," she sings. "And laugh at by the gods..."

"This music is killing me. It's really getting on my nerves. I think I'm going down to talk to that stupid lady."

"Wait. I wasn't planning on meeting him anyway."

"Yeah, yeah I know."

"You know that he's a good for nothing jerk."

"Ok. Ok. I got to go ok."

"Wait, you're not mad at ---"

Click.

The music echoes through the building.

"For you I was a flame," the woman sings. "Love is a losing game."

The CD is on loop. She stares at the ashtray shaped like a fish. Upon its mouth there is a dent where a fresh cigarette sits smoldering in the darkness. She licks her dry lips and tries to sing along with the music. But for some reason she couldn't. "Self-professed profound," she sings, trying to follow the beat that continuously evades her. She sings anyway. "Till the chips are down," she whispers, "... And now the final frame, love is a losing game." Her voice trails off in the dark, smoky kitchen while the music ends and starts over again.

31

at around 12 midnight i received a text message that our meeting would be moved to thursday, which was great. i wasn't going to do any thinking tonight anyway. i never was a bibo kid. i always do my work just as my bosses are asking for it. i took the message as a cue to have a cup of coffee while i finish the rest of the book im currently reading. lately ive been feeling extra volatile. i know, i always write in every entry that i'm in the grips of a major emotional breakdown but believe me there are days when i'm happy and every bit satisfied with my life. those are the days when i dont write anything because then i wouldn't have anything interesting to write about --- not that i find misery more fascinating than happiness but when the weather is generally clear i always opt to spend it outside than to stay home and think about how pitiful life is. i guess i'm down mostly because it's november and i always go crazy during my birthday month. the days leading to it and the few days after are especially excruciating. it's just like christmas. i always think that i should be ecstatically happy during my birthday and when it doesn't turn out that way --- even if it was just normal day with no hassles or anything --- i still feel like shit. this year, however, i was actually okay the day before my birthday. although i must point out that at around noon i was already becoming a little sentimental. on my way to work, i saw a handsome middle eastern guy who was probably in his late twenties. his face was something i believe i have already dreamed of in the past. i felt like tim burton stumbling upon my own helena bonham carter. but of course all i did was admire him from a distance since i was never the type who could pick up a man in the middle of a busy street. and so i told myself --- and this is truly barf-inducing presumption --- that perhaps the guy was a present from the gods. of course i would have preferred if he was given to me wrapped in a bow (and only a bow) but the sight of him made me a little cheerful, which was good. when i arrived at the studio i saw yael, that sexy guy from spongecola, and guess what i claimed him as another lovely present as well. my day was cruising along perfectly when just as we were about to end our episode at close to midnight our segment producer slipped a manila paper in our boards, which announced that it was my birthday the next day. when the hosts read it my blood froze instantly. more than embarassment, i felt anger, prompting me snap at our poor assistant. i tried to play along but i think my face gave it all away. on our way home, i couldn't feel more depressed. it's not that im not appreciative of the greetings (lots of people actually greeted me this year, even some strangers on the net) but every time someone greets me a "happy birthday" or even a "merry christmas" i always feel like slashing my wrist. i always think that just as they are wishing me well they are also pitying me. the happy birthday is not so much as a shout for joy but more like a condolence. i know that i could very well be hallucinating this (which could be true in some cases) and that i may have just been projecting my own feelings but damn it it still hurts like hell. it's enough to make me believe that perhaps in reality funerals are a tad more cheerful than birthdays and christmases.

P.S. On the day of my birthday, I met Filma at Trinoma. "Happy Birthday," she said just as I was about to approach her. "And by the way," she added. "I have a stone in my gall bladder and I need P100,000 for the operation." My friends, they are such fun people. Out of the three who invited me out for lunch, I just had to choose her. She just got out of the hospital today by the way.


picture above: my boyfriend and i were bored out of our wits so to entertain ourselves we took photos of each other. we wanted to know what i would look like if i had hair. rakenrol!

In Greenbelt 5 where I started to wonder

i wonder if the Jimmy Choo-clad
patrons of Greenbelt 5
ever thought of starving
kids or

Social injustices that leave
families with burning
hunger and desire

I wonder if they ever wonder
what happens in the
countryside where

farmers toil the land
day in and day out
digging the earth
for food that's never
ever enough

and how about the
kids of Kalimugtong
who trek violent lands
with slippers as thin as
their soles are thick

but i do think they think
about these things from time
to time when the news is
on and when today's paper
is splayed before them

but such thoughts are
too horrible to contemplate
too painful to contain

not when they are entering
the sparkling glass doors
of Greenbelt 5 or dining

in an antiseptic environment
where such thoughts poison
the chilly air

better to shoo them away with
a slight hand as one would do
to an unexpected fruit fly
begging to take a piece
of a delicious tiramisu.


Wala lang. Reaction ko lang after re-reading Emmanuel S. Torres' "Another Invitation to the Pope to Visit Tondo" sa Philippine Literature: A History and Anthology.

galing dito ang litrato: http://freshmess.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/greenbelt5_2_lr.jpg