Showing posts from January, 2012

see you next time

*Going on a two-month hiatus :) Blog, I'll miss you! Promise I'll come back to write more when I do! Take care! :)

rivermaya songs!

Hari ng dedmahan ang
Teleponong apat na
Magdamag ng 'di umiimik
Kung 'di ka tatawagan
May pag-asa kayang
Maisip mo ako't biglang ma-miss

Hindi kita mapipilit kung ayaw mo
'wag mo akong isipin bahala ka

Hindi kita mapipigil kung balak mong
Ako'y iwanang nag-iisa

P'wes walkathon ako patungo riyan
Isosoli ko lang lahat ng mga sulat mo
At me-katok pa yata'ng doorbell n'yo
Magtatatlong oras na'ko rito... hello!

Hindi kita mapipilit kung ayaw mo
'wag mo akong isipin bahala ka

Hindi kita mapipigil kung balak mong
Ako'y iwanang nag-iisa

Kung ayomo 'wag, Kung ayomo 'wag,
Kung ayomo, kung ayaw mo, huwag mo!
Kung ayomo 'wag, Kung ayomo 'wag
Kung ayomo, kung ayaw mo, huwag mo!

*will post more about what clyde and i are jamming to at the moment!


Clyde cried. He's amazing.

Cory: He looks like Jericho Rosales.

Clyde: Oo. Pero kung papipiliin ako kung si Jericho Rosales o si Bamboo, si Bamboo ang pipiliin ko.

And then she burst into tears. Hahahaha!

brave new world

I'm holding myself off from writing because I wanted to be concentrating on other things besides but I just felt the need to write down a moment.

I was re-writing my resume when the feeling came to me again. The feeling that I was exiting stage left from something. That every little step that I was taking was all part of that process and somehow going in that direction.

Leaving something. Leaving something behind. Who or what was it that I was leaving? I think the reason why I find it important to write this down is because it's a part of me that I'm leaving behind. A part of me that I'm saying goodbye to. A part of me who will not be taking part in my future.

Growing up. The process of graduation. That's what it is, I think.

I'm sailing out from a world whose safe bolts and nuts and turnscrews I knew. And, as time would have it, it's a permanent exit.

The girl I was will turn out to be the girl I become. Still girl, huh? Heehee. But they are probably two diff…

himala at ulan

Hey, I just want to say - I have a new crush. I was nudging Clyde just today to learn Ulan by Rivermaya. I fell in love with the lyrics.

Hiwaga ng panahon,
Akbay ng ambon
Sa piyesta ng dahon,
Ako'y sumilong
Daan-daang larawan ang nagdaraan
Sa aking paningin
Daan-daang nakaraan ibinabalik
Ng simoy ng hangin.

First off, gushing praise. This verse delights me. I think it's genius how they call rain "hiwaga ng panahon". Rediscovering it even now, the idea still feels new. And the imagery of being under a canopy of tree leaves with the rain falling down - wow! That was a life experience common to people and the writer named it! Bam! The very essence of what writing and musical experiences are all about.

And bringing to the fore the idea of memories parading before one's mind as triggered by the smell of the wind in the rain was just - shaking my head - fantabulous. Even if it's a common enough notion, it's the words used.

My favorite lines:

Tatawa na lamang, o bakit hi…


Pinipilit ni Clyde na i-gitara ang Elesi ng Rivermaya. Clyde: Lisura ba ani uy. 'La yamo jud koy talent ani. (Translation: Ang hirap naman nito. Wala pala talaga akong talent dito.)


(My latest inspiration. Panalo sa lyrics eh :)

Pag automatic na ang luha
Tuwing naghahating gabi
Pag imposibleng mapatawa
At di na madapuan ng ngiti

Kumapit ka kaya sa akin ng ikaw ay
Maitangay sa kalayaan ng ligaya
Tayo na tayo na, ika'y magtiwala
Sapagkat ngayong gabi ako ang mahiwagang elesi

Pag kumplikado ang problema
Parang relong Made in Japan
At para ring sandwich sa lunchbox mong nawawala
Nabubulok na sa isipan


Minsan ako'y nangailangan
Daglian kang lumapit sa akin
Ibinulong mo, kaibigan
Ako ang liwanag sa iyong dilim.


Para sa lahat ng mga mahiwagang elesi sa mundo. we love you! :D

Back to Clyde.

After several minutes of working at it, Clyde again said: If you don't have talent, it really takes you so much longer.

And then, noticing my shoulders silentl…

when you feel alone

“Alone. Yes, that's the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn't hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym.” - Stephen King

There's a heartache that comes with being alone. And that heartache means many different things and is felt in many different ways. You can always try to deal with it but for some reason, it never really goes away.

I take the route of acceptance when it comes to dealing. It breeds equanimity. When you realize you're supposed to feel sad, you don't feel the pressure to be happy, you'll feel pretty much better. And when you have the time, you can always play a song. That's what songwriters and recording artists make them available for.

A Place In This World

I don't know what I want.
So don't ask me.
'Cause I'm still trying to figure it out.

Don't know what's down this road.
I'm just walking.
Trying to see through the rain coming down.

Even though I'm not the only one who feel…


No one here to save me. - Taylor Swift

What Fs Feel Like

Today I feel awful. I feel haunted by a vague sense of a lack of direction. It’s compounded by another feeling – the feeling you get the time you let yourself down.

More than just awful, I feel dumb. I’m just not smart the way other people are. I have more misses than I have hits. And right now, I’m just one step away from being written off by the rest of the world.

Norman Mailer, a writer, once said that he doesn’t read other writers when he’s writing his own book. He said it makes him feel like he’d taken his own car apart and has its pieces all on the floor while a Ferrari goes riding by.

I agree with him. I feel that I'm kind of in the same situation right now and he’s right; it’s no picnic.

All I know is, however worse comes to worst, that I don’t ever want to become a bad person. There are things worse than being dumb or being called a dumb person. Like for example, when you are the one making other people feel bad that way.

Yes, it feels bad and I’m stumbling along the way and…


Januaries are my favorite months in a year. It’s not because my birthday falls on a January, though that might form part of the reason. It’s because Januaries are beginnings. And for this year, it’s like – this January is the beginning of the story of 2012.

I have always loved beginnings. I find them so exciting. For me, it calls to mind that time when I was 13 and school was to start the next morning and I ended up not sleeping the whole night because I was so eager.

Januaries are like when you’re holding a book in your hands for the first time and you’re opening it to the very first page. You get to know the characters and the story for the very first time. It’s magic.

But real-life beginnings and real-life Januaries though are not as well-laid out and well-structured as in books and stories. I mean, if God and mankind had not conspired to organize time, you’d never have known one day of December from one day of January.

And we usually try to employ metaphors like the birth of a but…


There are supposed to be other things that I've scheduled myself to write right now but I'm in no mood to write them.

Right now, I'm in the process of taking down the current "liner note" I have on this blog which is "I slept in castles and fell in love because I was taught to dream." It's from a song by Faith Hill - Fireflies - and I love it so much.

However, as of the moment, I want to replace it with something else.

But the line is so nice that I want to write a tribute blogpost to it. Actually, I think this year, I'm going to be pretty much writing tributary posts about people and things that inspire me. If those are the things that are filling my head right now, then I think my blogging is going to somehow manifest them.

Taylor Swift once told The New Yorker that one of the best musical experiences is when you're hearing a song by someone singing about their life and it resembles yours so much that you feel comforted. In my case, when I h…

my humble pie

My friend Mimi has a blog – All Amateur Advice On An Array of Angles – and I love reading it and I love the content. I was browsing through old posts of hers when I came across this one that was posted year 2007. The post was titled To Wit and it featured the artist/blogger John Campbell and some of his comic strips. According to Mimi, readers of Mr Campbell would send him questions and he would create answers to them in comic form.

Here’s an example.

Q: What’s the point?

This one cracks me up.

Q: Why do famous people never answer my letters?

So basically, Mr Campbell is saying that famous people don’t write back because they never get around to finishing their written replies because they’re being perfectionist about it.

And it just makes me laugh because it’s the same writing process for me as well some of the time. In my case, it also answers to the question, ‘why doesn’t Cory write more of her stuff on her blog or anywhere else for that matter?’ Heehee.

So anyway, I’m writing this bec…

came for a kiss

Part II

But the incident with the frog was taking too long already and Abbey had class to attend in the next few hours so she had to retire and leave Clyde and I to our own devices.

By this time, the frog had moved to the darker part of the house – our patio. And I was longing to go to sleep as well.

“Can’t we just go to sleep, Clyde?” I said. It was nearly three in the morning.

“No, I can’t sleep,” she said. “It'll jump all over our things.”

“No, it won’t.”

“Yes, it will. I’ll stay here and catch the frog by myself if I have to.” My, how the frog bothered Clyde.

Nonetheless, though we didn’t know it, we had come to the last stand. Presently, the frog was in the middle of demonstrating its fine acrobatic skills as it moved up the wall again and tried sticking to the ceiling. Clyde and I were at the ready. It had fallen to the floor several times already and the next time it were to fall –


Clyde, with admirable courage and newfound sense of action, descended on the frog with the sho…

came for a kiss

Because we said we'd never forget it until our hairs turn gray.

Part I

It was past midnight when suddenly, Clyde’s shriek jarred the silence and she flew across the room towards me. I was looking at her in amazement (and askance) when she explained to me that there was a frog in the house.

As this had never happened before, I trooped forward to investigate to where she said it was and sure enough, I saw a small, green frog sitting motionless on one side of my metal bookcase.

I found it funny. I looked back at Clyde and said to her, “Clyde! The frog came to you for a kiss!” I was laughing.

Shuddering at the ickiness of the situation, she immediately set me about getting rid of the frog and so we produced plastic bags to induce a capture. The plan was to trap the frog inside and then throw it out.

Abbey, meanwhile, had come down after hearing the commotion from upstairs and she helped me to capture the frog as its very presence was striking Clyde immobile.

We were quite successful. Using s…