Because I saw her picture, among the smiling faces of jubilant and juvenile lasses. It was a picture taken after some competition, some competition where they were vying for victory of course. The picture showed it. Their hands were holding out a 1, when they should have settled for a peace sign. She has joined a competition that required women to be thin and men, eunuchs. She stood there overweight, rubenesque or voluptuous as some gangly group of horizontal women will call themselves. She stood there noticed, maybe because of her unnoticeable skin, she was among the few of them who absorbed the sun’s rays and not merely reflected it. Many of them had one thing in common though, they always held out placards that had the words ‘shallow’ and ‘materialistic’ engraved in them. Well, at least that’s what’s written at the back of the placards expected to be raised at such competitions.  She, along with many of the girls in her age group, had the insatiable need to talk about Hollywood, and fashion, and shoes, and gossip and these words would come out from there mouths like loose rifles shooting unintentionally.

A few years later she was holding a different placard. It had big bold words on them, usually red or black. Some could view it artistic, how the red paint dripped from the edge of its canvass; others, a grim foreshadowing. It looked crass because it’s urgent. Its blatant disregard for esthetics was justified, because nothing can make it unjustified. This time, she was no longer aiming for 1. She wanted something beyond that, something higher. Her left hand is claiming zero. With a clenched fist, she shouts. For a win? No, not for a win; but for a mere fight, a struggle that she’ll end up losing everything for, but she’ll willing do so.

Few years later she joined a competition, a battle, a war that did not require women, thin, while men, eunuchs. It was a battle that required women to be men and men needed to have balls of steel. Her skin will be darker, her rubenesque figure will only be in pictures now. No, Hollywood and gossip will no longer be her ammunition and this time it’s intentional.

I wasn’t able to say good bye to her. I don’t know if I missed my chance. Back then, I was busy worshipping Bacchus and engaging in an unreasonable and unhealthy amount of conversation, it was the only therapy I could afford. I don’t know where she is right now nor do I know if she’s still there. I wish I was able to say goodbye at least. She should have known that I am one more person silently admiring her for her courage; I am saluting her without moving a muscle. I’m hoping that today she’s still there, not settling for a peace sign but holding out her clenched left fist. I hope you’re still there...

i want to immortalize how i felt by putting it into writing, but my thoughts are fleeting and the influx is like psychosis. my thoughts escape me and they run away. i wanted to put my thoughts into writing to immortalize what i have felt. but my fingers are paralyzed. and all that i have left is a cheap imitation of the emotion of the emotion that i have felt. i fail to give my thoughts justice. so silence will be the only worthy equivalent. because my thoughts are poetry, or so i think, and silence is the only thing which is as poetic.

every time i hear good music, i feel slightly disappointed because i can't help but think of the people that i force to listen to these music. this is the reason why i miss the driving apparatus that i used to have. if there's anything that i significantly like about it is that it has a nice sound system that every passenger i have is required to listen to what i want them to listen to. yes, i WAS the musical dictator. not anymore... not anymore...

:(

i know this might scare some of you off.

let's keep it real simple, no rhetoric and all those.

it was around january when this happened
1. i sleep
2. i wake up
3. i see a blood stain on the sleeve of my shirt.
4. i see that my bicep (or lack thereof) has a cut on it
5. and i see on my left bicep a straight cut that is artfully made and cut only on the surface that it won't leave a mark after the wounds are healed.




and now i see myself with cuts on my right bicep, two on my left thigh, one on my scapula. and what is remarkable about them are they are perfectly straight. i can't imagine how my nails or plain scratching can actually do this.

so, either:

1. i have a needle on my bed.
2. there's a possible sleep disorder? i don't know

so, i was telling this other person in my monday class that i woke up real late that i had to run out of the house the exact minute that i woke up, which is not exactly true, i had to grab my bag of course. he's a classmate of mine on mondays and i saw him today, tuesday. he was laughing at me when he saw me.
"i'm, wearing the same clothers i wore yesterday, therefore?" i said to him.

another conversation:
"taking a bath everyday is basically just social obligation."
"but you still take a bath, therefore you are a conformist?"
"i guess i am, but i rest on weekends."

yes, this blog post is about hygiene, actually, it's not. it's how i think that my body is just a secondary and an inferior structure compared to my brain. i never really saw my body as anything else rather than a vessel which carried my mind. i am a believer of the dualistic self, i'm cerebral, and i live in my head. i've never really placed too much importance on how i look, i never saw the point.

i looked at myself -- the physical self. i'm wearing a white shirt, as always. and i'm wearing my sister's pants. yes, they are my sister's but they fit me, maybe too much, they're unisex pants anyways. i'm wearing my spiked soccer shoes that has parts of it peeling off, and my shoe laces are often untied, but these shoes are comfortable so i still choose to wear them. i'm thin and lanky. i have scars on my arms. no part of me resembles sexy except my flat stomach but since i'm real thin, it doesn't count. i make no effort to improve how i look (except maybe dalacyn-c, which is an effective pimple remover, because i don't like to have pimples... ewwwww. ok, i'm a contradiction). i am "hygienic" at most. but other than that, no real effort to improve the physical.

i do no exercise. no egotistic gym work, no sport as of the moment, the closest thing i have to physical activity are my casual strolls i do when waiting.

i don't sleep as often as i want to. today, work ended at around 6. and i thought i had a class at 10, so i did not bother to go home anymore. i slept at the office, but woke up at 8 realizing that my dysfunctional battery is off again, as always. so i had to go to school already as i might not wake up before 10 anymore because i have no phone to serve as an alarm clocjk. but i had no class at 10 and my next class is at 230, i wanted to go to someone's house and sleep there. their place is within the campus. but my phone is off, and i had to inform the person in some way. i considered going there without notice, she wanted me to know her roommates anyways. but then i did not continue anymore for some reason.

i also do not eat as often as i want to. i just don't have the time anymore.



so what's my point? huhuhu. kawawa naman ang katawan ko. and tinatamad na akong tapusin yung blog ko kasi nagugutom na ako. gagawan ko na lang ito ng part 2. or not.

ngayon ay aking day off. ang for a lack of a better thing to do. i will post my sched on the innernet. so, stalker (ha, i wish), ito ang aking shedule/kung ano ang meron sa araw koh (with an H):


m - school at trabaho
t - school
w - school
t - school at trabaho
f - school at trabaho
s - trabaho
s - trabaho



tingnan. araw-araw akong lalabas ng bahay. at iisa lamang ang ibig sabihin niyan:( implikasyon )

i am well aware of my oral fixation. but because of a misdraw from the cards of personalities, i have unluckily drawn the anti-social card and the loquacity card both at the same hand. which is a bad combination; some may perceive it as plain autism because i'll eventually just mouth words to myself. i have the need to talk -- mouth words at least. but then i have no one to talk to, to converse with. i have found no courage to invite people to come talk with (and obviously confront resolutions to events that are begging to be resolved) because that will only ruin my narrative of independence. it will only expose soliloquy's weaknesses; the joy of soliloquy is something that i have been campaigning for and have been trying to prove to other people on the onset. telling them that i have the need for company will only prove the failures of my initial arguments.

but because of an unlucky draw and a straight flush of mishaps, choosing to change one's life is the conscious decision to remain alive. but mind you, i have enjoyed my solipsis. i have convinced myself that 2 + 2 = 5. soliloquy is still much preferred than the impetus of fitting in. but being alone forces one to think, to consider, to rationalize, to remember. and remembering is just self-flagellation. if i have any hope of surviving through this, what i need is a distraction, a change in scenery. i'll dumb it down and purge thoughts because they are, if anything -- evil.

hence, to align myself to the likes of kerouac and hemingway (great euphemism!!! yey me!) is the only route. these implements help me swallow my pride and that i am for a fact not independent. i still cannot bear that i have deserted my absolute preference for soliloquy -- i have not, at least, not completely done so. it will take time to set in that i am actually conversing to other people about the most mundane yet intimate of things, of love [and how i insist that there are bigger issues in life (but i still do not know what they are) to those who i have seen weeping because of it], of death, despair and desolation, of music, of anything.

(i'm procratinating dahil ayaw ko pang maghugas ng pinggan, kaya nag-blog na lang ako.)


to even think and consciously remember 2008 is masochism.
so what is left for me to do is to look forward to the year ahead and leave 2008 to drift to oblivion.

and so here it is, an obligatory posting of the new year's resolutions that i will try to abide by (at least for the whole month of january)

1. fix the posture. i'm actually 5 feet and 4 inches and some lose change. unfortunately, people think of me as someone who is much smaller because of the slouch. posture is basically a mental state, it's almost simple sloth. i've chosen not to bother because i never really cared how people viewed me. but since my sister makes a big deal out of it, and insists that in the future your back will hurt if i continue with such bad practices. ok, i'll follow.

2. consider punctuality. i work. i was on the brink of being fired because of my punctuality or lack thereof. hence, i have no choice but to be more punctual. or else... 20,000?

3. nihilism keeps me sane. (yan ang dating blog title ng livejournal koh with an H). nihilism kept me sane. so i will continue this mental framework.

4. socialize. for the last two quarters of 2008, i deliberately put out an effort to socialize. before, i shun down people's offers to go out just to play some volleyball game i'm playing/over-playing at our computer or maybe even minesweeper (good times...) , but now, i'm forcing myself to engage in interhuman activity more often. it's not that i'm anti-social (or at least not completely), it's just that there are times when i go out on hiatuses/hiati (ano ang plural ng hiatus?). and i'm not on a hiatus for the past few months.

6. learn how to count...



end. time to put an end to this blog post which is really just mindless self-indulgence. really, i never knew how to end things nor say good bye to people.

blablabla. just para lang masabi na may na-blog akong bago.


blablabla.

rerereratererrrerearerrarrrerarereararerearearar.

i found them cheesy, those people from reality tv that sob in tears when another contestant / half stranger / supposed friend leaves the contest. it was pure unnecessary sentimentality for me, it was a show, what do you expect?

but today a friend of mine from the office got terminated because she failed to pass an exam. and i feel terrible. she was actually the first person to whom i told my side of the story of my non-existent romantic affairs and some things as of late. (for some reason, i feel more comfortable telling those things to half-strangers). she became unknowingly and unknowingly a confidante. you are relieving, you are light and uncomplicated.

because as cheesy as this sounds, you'll be missed.

post scipt: before posting this blog entry you message me that you'll see us tomorrow anyways and that you miss me / us

1. please stop this. yes, whatever this is. (you#1)

2. i'll be back. but probably not now. i'll wait for the things to calm down and probably when i'm not too busy trying to fulfill things that i do not choose. yes, i'll be back doing things that matter to me. (many you)

3. kumakain ako ngayon ng 15 pesos worth ng spanish bread at gusto ko pala yung lasa niya. at gusto ko pang kumain.  nyam nyam nyam nyam nyam. delicioso. ika nga ng aking kaibigan si dora exploradora (to dora and the bakery person)

4. pot luck

5. words slap hard. and they did. and you'll never know, because you never intended to do it. (to another you)




blogging nonsense. blogging with pseudo sense.

it's 6:15 and i'm still awake.

after reading tereza's chapter in the unbearable lightness of being, i felt the insatiable need to eat lugaw. and i did so.
i went to the lugawan that's open for twenty-four hours and bought two servings of lugaw and another of tokwa which i bathe in suka and toyo and the hodge podge of sauces that are contained in translucent containers that a heavily coughing and phlegmy woman was filling. pepper, and lots of it (sentence fragment). pepper and sand -- that is. i came to the conclusion that i never really liked the taste of lugaw, i only like the concept of it.
i like lugaw. it's one of the reason why i frequented church when i still did so. every memory i have while eating lugaw is usually a fond one. i like rainy days and lugaw. i like the lugaw we make which tastes so much better than ones that we've bought, we never called it lugaw though, we haughtily referred to it as arroz caldo. i like lugaw dates.

i'm also eating a legal brownie right now. i always eat but never get fat. what people find as a boon is my bane. for lunch i ate three cups of rice and a default orange colored viand cafeterias offer. i had to eat three cups. part of it was just machismo though. i usually eat lunch with three people 2 guys and a girl. the first guy orders a single cup. lame. the second orders two. and the female orders two too.  i was supposed to order just two, but i felt emasculated because she ordered two -- so i ordered three. yes, i'm mayabang and sexist like that.

at dinner i ate the regular two cups, all in less than 15 minutes. at 12 i stopped by 7-11 to buy the hotdog on a bun. and later after that i ate 2 bowls of lugaw. plus this brownie, which i don't like, not because i'm full but because it crumbles too easily. i'll be more than willing to give it to the dogs if they wouldn't die from it -- but i was told they will.

our life is shit. and shit is an under-statement. so the late developments would further establish this fact. then, i came to wonder. why the heck are we still functional? and the only reason i can giveout is that we've been through many shit and what we have is an amalgamation of the many shit we will call Big Shit. now because being so immune to shit, we treat everything else as just Baby Shit.

i'm amazed at why we're so functional. seriously, none of us have serious drug-addiction, alcoholism, sexual promiscuity, etc. problems or at least none that i know of. we are still functioning members of society. and i'm amazed and almost happy about this.

whine and rant and whine and rant and rant and whine.

my name is yuri and that's what i do best. naging whiny blog na naman tong blog na to. and i don't want it that way. i try to be at most pleasantly neurotic not painfully depressing. so here's to that.

tell that to the burn victims who are dead, to the babies who were raped, to those dead in the crossfire. yes, to them, this is god's better plan.

i find it [lack of a better word] when people insist that the good things that happen to them and all their good coincidences are brought about by their god. the people who blame him/her are equally stupid.

therefore, the last post should not be viewed as blaming god. it's just saying that i don't believe in one.

and i could go on and blabla about the rationalizations about the inexistence of a god, but i don't have time

just when you thought that things could not get possible worse, you're rock bottom, can you really even go lower than that? Life / Karma / God / The Cosmos or whatever irrational embodiment of hope or alibis for not doing good we have will slap you on the face to remind us that there is nothing to remind us of in the first place. there is no god, no cosmic balance, no karma, no cards dealt, nothing to ensure that good begets good, bad begets bad and that things even out or people are not dealt cards that some God knows you can not deal with.

i know for a fact that we do not deserve this. we have not been the worst people in society. we do not trample other people's rights. we do not deliberately hurt other people. not us, not my mother, not my sisters, not me. in fact, i do believe that we have been good and we have done our best within the bounds of the circumstances given to us. but look at my father, and how pleasantly he lives his life now. if karma / cosmic balance / or god do exist, where are you now?

my incapacity to capture the gravity of the situation into words is disappointing. but had you known what we have been through for the past 7 months, you will understand where i'm coming from. but since you don't this is nothing but blasphemy.

to god, i would have told you fuck you. but then again, you don't exist. why  bother with cursing?

and sometimes, i get the opportunity to live outside of it and interact with the 'outside' world. then i realize that i'm better off just living inside my head. let me go back to the hole i dug up myself and call me back when people are not as shallow as this.

if ever i did pray, i'd be praying for hope.

palitan natin yung last na post. i don't want that post to be the first thing people see when they see this blog

to a non-livejournal user,

you, if you are worth anything. you are but a distraction from the real-er issues at hand.

i thrive in the pettiness in you. i pretend that i'm interested just so that i'll be distracted from what's real.
thanks.



xoxoxo.         i.t.a.l.y.       j.a.p.a.n.


(made cheap-sounding so that you could relate)