... na mayaman pala ang mga Pilipino?!

from Inquirer.net

a. salary deduction

b. pumila sa Jollibee para lang sabihan kang "wala na po niyan sir."

c. pagsisihan ang pagsuot ng Mcdo na T-shirt at kakain sa Jollibee.

d. pumila sa Megamall, maghintay ng matagal.

e. maubusan ng FX dahil siningitan ka ng mga taga-Binangonan.

f. maglakad pabalik ng Edsa Central. Makinig ng Pantera habang naglalakad.

g. pumila ULIT sa Edsa Central. Makinig pa rin ng Pantera.

h. GOING HOME - Wislawa Szymborska

He came home. Said nothing.
It was clear, though, tht something had gone wrong.
He lay down fully dressed.
Pulled the blanket over his head.
Tucked up his knees.
He's nearly forty, but not at the moment.
He exists just as he did inside his mother's womb,
clad in seven walls of skin, in sheltered darkness.
Tomorrow he'll give a lecture
on homeostasis in megagalactic cosmonautics.
For now, though, he has curled up and gone to sleep.

"Sa mata ng iba ika'y dalang-dala..." - Munting Paraiso, Razorback.

How unfortunate. Really.

You’ve only heard one side of the cassette so far, so this side, my side is quite unfamiliar to you.  Finally, you can hear it.  For the sake of fairness, and since you always get what you want.

Unless my powers of observation fool me, you remember clearly those late night calls, where in desperation, you’d cry talking about your problems.  Or that time you showed up at our gig, but not to watch, but to have someone to cry on.

There could be more of these events, but either my creeping Alzheimer’s (Tinio 2009), or my recently adopted coping mechanisms hinder me to remember.

You see that’s the problem with memory.

So let’s continue to tread on this part of memory lane, what I would call the “Greeen Veltz” side of memory lane.  See, this means this will be a nice walk.  Around us there are the expensive the shops, the coffee shops, the atmosphere that makes us forget that the world is otherwise.

Walking along here, I am reminded that we considered each other as siblings (non-biological, as weird as our non-biological family tree has ever been). Many have been fooled that we are.  We were there for each other, the happy times, the shit times (Borat Sagdiyev).  I thought that being as “siblings,” it will always be like that: “We’re here for each other.”  That sounded like an assuring promise.

You see that’s the problem with me.  I believed in that all too well.

Gulod is a place in my hometown in Muzon, Taytay, Rizal.  To say that it’s the opposite of “Greeen Veltz” is an insult (like that girl we saw read Neruda in a poetry reading in Powerbooks).  Welcome to this side of memory lane.

What you probably don’t remember are the numerous times I needed you and you turned away from me (“turned away” is an understatement, as if saying Lesnar’s hammer fists on the face is the same as a lover’s gentle kiss on the cheek). 

The effect? Let’s just say, I’d rather have Lesnar’s hammer fists on my face.  Plus, this is not about the effect.  This is about answering your question.  Giving you what you wanted.

As it came out, it was like playing badminton with my 6-year-old nephew.  He’d ask for a decent badminton service, but I get squat.  I don’t say anything because I have to understand his situation, because I adhered too much to the opening lines of The Great Gatsby.  Eventually, I tired of this game.  I went back to my usual activities.  I told myself to never play badminton with him again.  Ever.

You see that’s the problem, only I made that decision.  I assumed too early.

That is why I did not say anything when you apologized that night.  I only gave you a pat on the shoulder.  If the circumstances were different, if you were in a different predicament, I would have reacted differently. 

You see that’s the problem with a lot of people lately.  They take my silence lightly.

If you have not noticed it, this whole letter is void of any emotion.  This was thought out long and hard, so that you get what you asked for.  An explanation.  Any emotion would undermine the purpose of answering your question.  Then I rather have you watch a telenovela than give you decent, mature, somewhat comprehensible manner of reply.

On a personal note, I am happy you’re there.  Distance will do you good.  It does wonders.  Take my word for it.

what else is there to say?

person A: "masam ang parating lunokin ang pride."

person B: "bakit naman?"

person A: "mananaba ka lang."

bugie to self: "kaya pala."

you never fail to make me feel i have a home. i am very grateful that atleast once before the year ends i became talkative again.

to the four of you, you know who you are and i cheeziness has a place between us. i love you and thank you sooo much.

Teacher Rona,

R.I.P. mamimiss ka namin...

*during yosi break around 5:30 pm*

riot: "o kamusta naman?"
bugie: "siyempre sobrang busy."
riot: "sira hindi tungkol sa trabaho. i'm talking about life outside work."
bugie: "..."

*it's 1:42 am, i still can't find anything to answer that question.*

"What is the approproate job title for someone who comes to work and spends the entire 9 working hours watching American TV shows?"

Feel free to enlighten me. My sincerest Thanks.

Whatever I've become up until April 2008, will be put away in a time capsule and will be opened hopefully sometime in 2009.  As I'm writing this, the "me" you've known gone. Kept in the capsule.

I feel so much better now.

While My AIR Guitar Gently Weeps

I look at you all Hendrix in my headphones
While my air guitar gently weeps
I look at my hands they miss that feeling
Still my air guitar gently weeps

I don't know why nobody told me
not to chase foolish dreams
I don't know how how to forget you
I've thought to pawn or sell you

I look at the world and I notice they're all sleeping
While my air guitar gently weeps
With every song i try not to start dreaming
while my air guitar gently weeps

I don't know how to start forgetting
the sound of the real thing
I don't know when was the last time i held you
nothing ever felt like you

I look at you all Dimebag is shredding
While my air guitar gently weeps
I look at you all
Still my air guitar gently weeps

[14:48] dino: hussar
[14:49] mark_bugie: pre.

[14:55] mark_bugie: wala

[14:57] mark_bugie: you know...

[14:59] mark_bugie: pinipilit lang

[15:20] mark_bugie:

September 4, 2008 11:40 pm - Made smoke rings outside the valero office. A windless night in makati. Watched cars go by.

September 5, 2008 00:00 am - "HAPPY BIRTHDAY BUGIE!" Shouted my teammates, echoing throughout the office. No one complained. All but our cubilces were empty.

September 5, 2008 01:00 am - Crashed. Finally. It's been more than a week of 3-4 hours a day of sleep.

September 5, 2008 04:40 am - I arrived home. Slept right away. Actually, it's all i thought of.

September 5, 2008 12:00 nn - "HOY GISING NA! LATE KA NA!" my mom shouted through my window.  Went out to take a glimpse of lunch.  Instead I found spaghetti & cake. I suddenly felt good. I love my mom.

September 5, 2008 - 14:00 pm - Arrived in the office. Greeted by people. Very much grateful.

September 5, 2008 17:30 pm - Stress levels going over the top. Started having headaches.

September 5, 18:00 pm - Overheard people arranging Friday-night drinking sessions. Some asking me where we'd be going for a party. I thought I was the most dense person in the world.

September 5, 20:00 pm - Dinner.  Heard the news about having to work on the weekends and that we have to sacrifice more time to finish given the extension. The Big Mac burger was suddenly difficult to swallow.

September 6, 00:30 am - Work's finished for now. The day's over? It apparently was.

PS: Thanks to those who texted, called, etc. Thanks mom i love the cake & spaghetti. Thank you dear, you reminded me that it was my birthday. i love you.

let's say you work hard. at times 21 hours straight. they promise you something. you wait. while you wait (and work for more than the usual # of hours), you see that others are working as hard as you are (meaning youtube, online RPG games, reading mangga for 9 friggin' hours - i'm not apologizing for the sarcasm). inspired, you say to yourself: "i have to be work harder AND harder," while the client is pouring in more and more work (at the same time complaining about ridiculous things). you say to yourself: "atleast i'm doing what i want." then you feel ashamed that you've interchanged the word "want" with "have to do." but that's okay, everyone's working hard until you realize that it's been a month since the promised time, and what you have is a slip of paper telling you how many times you've been late (which of course relates to being lazy in this world). the cursor blinks as you read the client's email screaming at you that you've done something wrong when in fact out of the kindness of his loving heart he just forgot what you've agreed upon. so you scramble again for more than the required # of hours while someone behind you is sermonizing how inefficiently you've spent your extended # of hours and thus will be deducted along with the lates you've acquired (meaning laziness). "the guitar in my room has gotten a bit rusty - a bit meaning 6 months of not being touched," rudely interrupts you in a meeting. "atleast i get to feel accomplishment," is the message to text back to your self who's probably gone somewhere and has no intentions of replying. there is a point to this. we'll get to that. someday.

so what's the moral of the story? it's true, there's nothing wrong with being a slave.

as long as you use the word consultant. ;-)

huweeee!!!

from sinfest.