Just a few, simple wise words that caught my laconic attention span---
Cause sometimes, we need that new perspective...
Cause we're probably much more interesting than we think...
Cause sometimes, we worry a little too much...
And try to be like someone else...
When all we really need is a little more faith...
Cause sometimes, she's actually right no matter how much we hate it.
Simple words armed with so much soul.
...Practical vs. Theoretical, Rational vs. Illogical...and I don't know where I fall in the spectrum. Born and raised as a Christian from the Church of Christ, my faith in God has sort of become an influx of different beliefs I have learned from various religion classes, and now just a shade of grey. With the many Gods people have worshiped at different eras, with each time period varying entirely in context, why feel compelled to choose just one ultimate God in strictly one practice? Okay, obviously, the belief in incarnation for instance, does not concur with the idea of heaven, so I guess to some extent you do have to make a sound decision on which side of the spectrum you're on; but like many schools of thoughts and ideologies, there is always that shady area open for questioning and in some brutal cases, open for attack.
Through the years, factual history has proven that religion has been both progressive and retrogressive for man -- pastors have been the prime movers of civil rights and women's right to vote but at the same time, religious wars and beliefs have caused more fatalities than war itself. Just a thought, if religion were inherently 'good', then all religions should be one force on the battlefield promoting the 'good', instead of battling each other out to be 'the one'.
I guess I just don't like the idea of religion as dictative of our actions for the sketchy hope of 'salvation', whatever that may mean to you; or the hidden missionary aspect of spreading God's word via charity work to expand in numbers. I would much rather enjoy serving a God without being forced to, and I would appreciate the help of someone who truly wants to help and not want to secretly convert me later on.
Maybe I'm a non-practicing atheist, or a semi-insincere practicing Christian. However, I do strongly believe in spirituality, because for me, spirituality does not automatically relate to religion or religious beliefs/practices. Given the right frame of mind and intention, I could travel to Sri Lanka to sit under the Bodhi tree, or sit atop any mountain, and meditate until I no longer feel the physicality of my body but only my soul at one with the universe. I could cleanse my soul, so to speak, through the simple ways of making someone laugh, meaningfully lend out a helping hand, or doing objectively good things both for the betterment of society and to simply make me feel good. Those, I feel, carry so much more weight than one hour of spacing out in a humid church.
Maybe the truth lies not in the outdated scriptures, but in the tangibility of everyday with respect to the possibility of a greater force you attract through meaningful and self-less actions. You shouldn't need a religious icon to stop you from enslaving another human being; likewise you shouldn't need to choose a life promoting the attack of religious zealots.
This could clearly go on forever and I am in no position to back up either side; so I guess it all comes down to you and what you want to do with your life.
Oh and, Happy Easter :)
I have to think and string my life and my self back together before I allow myself to be trampled on and swallowed by the world. I believe people should do what they love, and should keep doing what they love to do (for so long as it ain't collecting dead bodies in your mother's attic or some weird inhumane shit like that), no matter what anyone says. People should love you for who you are. Don't allow yourself to be molded into someone else's mannequin.
And don't give up your passion because it's like killing that flame that lights you up.
After only 2 years of no dance, my life has truly become discordant. While all my friends rave about their colleges and universities, and travel that road called, 'finding my Self,' I find myself stuck in the rut I call home, finding...whatever it is that comes my way.
As a Dance Company (contemporary and modern jazz group composed of elite dancers from the International School Manila) alumni, I was taken aback when I was invited to guest at a show this late April. "Dance," I thought, "I haven't done that in a long time." I sunk into my seat and blankly stared at the piles of furniture catalogs I still had to get through for the home issue of Lifestyle. My heart raced and tears collected at the back of my eyes, ready to burst with just a blink. Memories flooded in and all of a sudden, I felt so drawn back to high school.
As a child, I've always loved dance. But unlike the stereotypical little girl in a tutu who's obsessed with pointing her toes and curving her arms, I loved the experimental-theatre-dance kind. What the fuck is that. It's like drama dance, expressing emotions through movement --it could be dancing to a poem recitation or noise rock, or simply acting and bodily expression with offbeat emphasis accompanied with disarranged music. I had immense passion for that form of dance, but after high school and a semester in uni, I quit dance. I missed my old team because there was a special bond that allowed us to feel each other with our eyes closed; there was trust. Not only was I disappointed with the new dance team I joined, but I realized that I had to quit dance to focus on my career, and so I could spend more time with my Love before he left for uni. It was a tough call, but I made that sacrifice cause I knew it would make him happy, and his happiness meant the world for me.
And now, after 2 long years of not being on stage, I remember those days when he'd watch me rehearse every day for three hours, just to spend my water breaks seated next to me as I, drenched in sweat, would just slouch on the seat and catch my breath. I remember the performances when I would look for him in the audience so I could feel more confident, since seeing him there made the butterflies in my stomach disappear. I remember bitching to him backstage about the shitty times I had with my parents and running to him for everything because it was where I felt safe. I remember holding hands in the cold hallways. I remember the stolen kisses. I remember his smell.
Dance just felt so cold today. Maybe because I'm not with my team members specifically. Maybe because no one's watching. Maybe because I don't know who I'm dancing for and why I'm still dancing.
Finally I am done with school, final exams and my pending articles are FINISHED! I cannot be any happier, seriously. Like, seriously. Like SUPER seriously. hahaha, I felt like sounding like a ditz for a second and now that that's over, let me go back to my 'voice', whatever voice that is.
I'm sitting here in my little corner, with my fugly PC and messy desk filled with press releases, CDs with pictures from events, and spring/summer collection catalogs from Louis Vuitton and Ferragamo, to Prada and Diesel. It's like a dream come true for stylish girls, but not for the boring writers like myself. I have to sit here for six hours and write about these lifeless things that mean nothing to me. I have to stare at photographs of events and imagine I was there to make the writing seem real. It's hard, but since I've only showed up for work twice, I'll probably get the hang of it soon.
Because I'm interning at Lifestyle Asia magazine, I can't wait until I'm sent to do profile interviews, real event coverage and even out of town trips with my bosses. That should be pretty fun! The editors are a real friendly bunch and don't make me do stupid things like make coffee or photocopy. Day 1, I had to write immediately for the June issue, and in only 3 working days, I have like 8 pieces being published in that issue already. How great is that? At least I have pieces to add to my portfolio! Yay! We're wrapping up the June issue today and I thought I'd let you guys know.
I'm actually feeling a little cheery today, perhaps it's because of the tenth caramel tart I'm munching on right now, but whatever, I like it. The weather is really really humid and hot and it feels like I'm in the fucking Sahara --that's why people are prone to heat stroke here.
I went to my best friends fashion show last friday and I was so fucking ecstatic and endorphins were just literally traversing around my vessels ready to explode. I WAS SO PROUD OF HER! I'll post up pictures later, but she looked so great! I felt like her fucking mom or her older sister, like in a way, I felt like it was my responsibility to watch her because of that strong bond we have. WOOHOO! She's someone to watch out for, seriously.
SHIT! Grey's anatomy and LOST! I spent sunday updating myself on my favourite TV shows and OMFG I could not keep my eyes off! Why the hell are they not showing the rest of the episodes till like late April?! The anxiety is kiiiillllliiiinnnnngggg meeeee.....slowwwwwlllllyyyy.....
OMG I'm so fucking hyper and I'm typing extra loud on my keyboard and I think it's irritating the chic in the other cubicle cause she keeps eyeing me and looking away, pretending to think. Oops. I can't help but type loud, no matter where I am.
Tonight, I'll be going to check out this exhibit on tobacco. Maybe it'll persuade my dad to stop smoking. HAHA YEAH RIGHT.
Ok can anyone give me a good book to read?
My grandfather passed away yesterday. Full stop. I had to write his obituary quickly after filing some hospitalization papers in the accounting. Full stop. What else can there really be said about that? Full stop.
"FRANCISCO C. TAPALLA
August 14 1914 -- March 25 2007
peacefully joined his Creator and his wife, Asuncion Recio Tapalla, on
March 25 2007, at the age of 92.
Surviving are his children Victorio Tapalla; Virgilio Tapalla and wife, Aileen with granddaughters Bernice and Andrea; Amada Tapalla; Marino Tapalla and wife, Annabelle, with granddaughters Erika, Eribelle, and Ellayka; and Marilou Tapalla.
His body lies in the Lipa Cathedral, Lipa City, Batangas."
***
Today is Ayo's birthday so I totally wish him a good one, and 20/20 vision forever so film editing won't be that much of a bitch. My love to that ex-blondie-now-turned-into-an-aspiring-yogi.
***
Went to my first shoot with METRO magazine as an official freelance writer.
.Rumples Estacio:fresh grad/young designer.
.Girlie Benitez:model/jewelry designer.
.Noelle Hernandez:photographer who was fairly new in her profession too.
Thanks to Rumples, Girlie, Noelle, Fashion Ed: Corine Alegre and Assitant Fashion Ed: Andrea de Guzman, and everyone else for being very very very nice and patient with a rookie like me; a pretty emotionally banged up one at that, considering the unfortunate circumstances I'm going through--but of course they didn't know that. Last thing I needed was a bitch of a boss and snotty interviewees and thank God for not letting me encounter those kinds of people today, on my first official job.
Sometimes the world has its way of trafficking things to push you to learn how to live. And I'd like to conclude with what Eddie said on a previous post, "Let fate take its course, and you'll see that everything will be as right as rain." I'll be okay.
"You look so sad today."
"Hey! What's the matter? You look so...gloomy."
"Hi, my name is _____, we met before. Anyway, are you ok?"
"There you are! I've been looking for --- did something happen??"
"Tell me the truth Er, what are you thinking?"
Jesus, I feel like I have to wear a smile on my face 24/7 just to reassure people that I'm ok. I feel like I have to say something funny after each sentence so people will think I'm 'myself'. It's not fair that I feel I have to be that constant person everyone uses as a basis for reassurance that not everything is changing. Just because I laugh loud, make unnecessary comments under my breath, or make jokes, doesn't mean I'm an eternal entertainer. Sometimes I want to wear a sad look on my face because I feel sad; so please, let me wear that face once in a while without having to explain myself.
I woke up past my alarm clock and did not have time to drink coffee. And this is important because I cannot function without at least a cup of coffee and I actually can get a wee bit cranky without coffee. In fact, I need my piss to be reeking of coffee beans for me to feel like I've had a sufficient amount of caffeine. Moving on, the meeting with Adidas completely slipped my mind, so I showed up not only late, but wearing Nikes. Fucktard. When I got to the place, I just wanted to kick my shoes out in the fucking grass; and the minute the Adidas people scanned what I was wearing and focused and de-focused and focused on my shoes again, I just wanted to shoot myself. My streak of bad luck however, didn't end there, it actually escalated. I got my F test paper back for history, and while I was running to submit my philosophy synthesis I almost kissed the gravel as my foot got caught in between those ridiculously uneven stepping stones. I come home, only to have more responsibilities (like meetings with my youngest sisters' teachers) dropped my way and a chat session with someone unappreciative of me and suddenly it's like I'm reliving my hellish nightmare of 2006 once again. I know for a fact that I'd be okay if it weren't for that chat session with the one and only EX whom I still love and keep close to my heart dearly, but know deep down that to really love is to let go. I know he doesn't know he doesn't truly love me yet, and I don't know if he will ever see my worth, but I am optimistic that one day we both find that happiness and peace we probably deserve...even if it's not with each other.
Ok. I'm fine, I just needed to see in word format, what made me feel like shit today. Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow will be much better, and tomorrow will be the last day I shoot with actual professional indie filmmakers so maybe I should take pictures of that. I'm am totally craving for fish 'n chips and green tea ice cream for desert.
I am quite excited to watch this film, Across the Universe, which I hope actually does arrive in Manila or at least reaches the people who love to reproduce pirated material.
..."Nothing's gonna change my world," seems to be my broken wish of the day.
Thought I'd revamp my blog and ramble about shit while waiting for writer's block to emancipate me. Been surviving on caffeine and 2-3 hours of sleep daily for the past week and it really is unhealthy. My mom thinks I'm a work horse, but the truth is, the university is forcing me to be one. Fine. I guess I always end up procrastinating but this semester has been a bitch, leaving me exhausted like I'm working ten jobs.
At least I had time to visit my grandfather in the hospital, my other grandfather's grave, and chop a few inches off my locks.
Even if I'm not much of a fashionista, definitely not updated with the latest gear and apparel since I just wear whatever, once I saw the pegs of Grey One products my friend is importing here, I could not wait to cash out. Makes me want to shit gold coins.
Since traveling to places in Manila eat up my time, I've been using that time to keep myself grounded and well-informed on whatever except for local news. Some witty ads I encountered:
Love the last one the most.
The world is one big buffet.
You choose what you want, put it on your plate, chew it, savour it, then swallow. Sometimes it sucks, sometimes it's really good. Sometimes you want more of the same thing and regret not trying the others, or feel sad when the silver platters are wiped clean and what you want isn't offered anymore. Well now, I'm at that point where I think I put too much food on my plate in high hopes of filling my emptiness, only realizing now it wasn't my stomach that was empty, but my heart.
Now what am I going to do with all this food when I don't even know what I really want on my plate? I guess I could throw it, then get a new plate. Or I could just eat it and then get a new plate. Or I could just eat what I can then throw the rest away. Ah I don't know. There are way too many people starving for food as good as mine for me to just dump it in the canister.
It's so much easier when you're a kid. You eat anything your parents or helpers give you, and actually love it. There are times you don't even have a say, so you just eat whatever is on the table. Then you start eating things that are bad for you, then you learn the difference of healthy food and unhealthy food. Then you get fat. Then you lose weight. Then you complain. Then you regret. Then you want to turn back time and wish you were a kid again. It's a vicious cycle.
If only we could stop eating and stop being slaves to the grumbling of our stomachs then maybe just maybe, we could breathe and find out what it is we're really craving for.
Going to be working closely with internationally acclaimed Filipino artist Yason Banal in his new artwork entitled, "Waiting for the Skies to Fail". Yason is planning to shoot his exhibit in Manila this March for Tokyo and Shanghai shows. Come July, a live exhibit with people made to be interpreted as objects will be held in Manila.
"Banal's works combine seemingly distant belief systems and symbologies – art, folklore, science, history and cosmogony, as well as music and film genres and subcultures - to trigger suppressed associations and links. The artist speaks of trying to initiate 'constellations' through the different elements in his work - referring at once to heavenly bodies, but also to their relationships with events unfolding on earth, sometimes benign, but often catastrophic and utopian."--- Roger McDonald, Curator for the Singapore Biennale.
Some installations--
In Tokyo, Japan:
In Oslo, Norway:
In London, UK
Was interviewed by Managing Editor of Lifestyle Asia Magazine and was accepted as an intern (yay). I'll be starting soon, and feeling my way through the magazine environment and working my way up the high profile publication.
THIS SHIT IS NOW SHOWING. Fuck. I've been waiting for this so it better be fucking awesome.
Life will be exciting and busy; i can't wait.
I want to do so much but I gotta stay focused and keep my eyes on my vision. School is burning me out, and right now it's actually a hindrance so I started surfing the net at my dad's office, trying to look for something, anything to inspire me. And I found this.
David Ellis' Conversation is enthralling. Aiming to make the rhythm in his head heard, he incorporated beats directly into his work. Just when I thought I should only focus on one thing, here comes Ellis proving that anything can happen. Not just the typical anything -- I'm talking about the integration of passions, the art of mastering multi-tasking, the careful piecing of every element of your Self and your unique experiences into a masterpiece so fresh it's often times initially misunderstood.
As Heidegger implicates, an authentic human person lives his life towards death instead of away from it like most people. An authentic person not only acknowledges that death happens, but lives his days as though it were his last. I thought, 'fuck that's tiring.' Imagine doing everything you wanted to do in your whole life right this minute because the next second you might just drop dead. It's fucking crazy. But it's that craziness that makes people stand out and die fulfilled. It's the notion of pushing yourself so hard you want to cry, pushing things so far that years later it's considered genius, you're considered god.
You want something, go get it, fight for it if you have to because shit won't just fall from the sky. You want to do something, don't half ass it, overdo it if you have to because half-assed work equates to nothing. Think think think! Don't try to be like everyone else who tries so hard to be different. Dis-cover yourself and place it in the context of your life and the world. Live out your wildest dreams NOW...time is ticking.
The country is talking about:
Kris Aquino, daughter of hero Ninoy Aquino and former president Cory Aquino always manages to enter foul relationships, further heightened by her public tantrums and irrationalities. Recently married to and impregnated by a young basketball player, rumors spread that he has long been cheating on Kris with a receptionist of a glamorizing clinic. Poor girl never seems to know when to shut both her traps -- whether it be about her STDs, or homewrecking escapades, her life becomes a public spectacle and public laughing stock, directly increasing television rates. Sigh. If it ain't about a 4-foot president cheating her way to the presidential seat, it's about pathetic rallies or scandals like these. Shit like this make you cringe, make you want to take the next flight to Singapore or New York.
While the streets, jeepneys, and building walls are vandalized with campaign stickers; while the radio is polluted with campaign jingles; while air-time on television is bought to showcase government officials prancing about in comfortable wear, singing with extras dressed down to look like farmers, fishermen or agriculturists; I'm pondering on what form of governing would best suit the Philippines.
We have long been fighting for our freedom and independence -- from our colonizers, from a dictator, from a corrupt president, and now from a cheating president -- but when freedom and independence is laid out to us like cold fish on a platter, we don't know what the hell to do with it. We plot, rebel, kill, for democracy but utilize it to vote our favorite uneducated actors and actresses, we abuse it the way a dumbass would yell BOMB in a supermarket when there is none, reasoning that he has a right to free speech.
Thing is, democracy in itself, as a system is not flawed. Maybe it's how we use it that's flawed, or maybe it's a system not fit for us. China seems to do well with communism, Japan's imperialism, Russia's federalism and so on and so forth.
The vagueness of our historicity and identity contributes to this political madness that seems to basically be repetitive with just a few minor changes because of time and context. We love to play the role of the victim, the abused, the one-shot underdog. My history professor is right: We never want to play the world game and be globally competitive.
As a young individual, I realized it's important to keep my eyes and my mind open to absolutely everything that is going on around me if I want to make that difference. It's important to be at par with the rest of the world so I can anticipate the next big thing. I gotta be on top of my game.
A weekend in Macau is anything but ordinary. Friday morning I'm in the humid outskirts of Manila sitting in my huge black van trudging in the traffic; Friday afternoon I'm wearing three tops in attempt to protect me from the cold winds while enjoying my bakalaw salad and lamb with mint jelly in a famous Portuguese restaurant uncharted to foreigners. 
Saturday morning we sail to Hong Kong via hydrofoil to catch the year-end sale (as marked in the Chinese Lunar calendar) and come night, we take the train to Mongkok to haggle with locals on cheap goods.
Sunday morning we tour around Macau, which was approximately just the size of Makati and visit the Ruins in Senado Square where we were tricked into paying double for Macanese delights. Fuckers. Although there is discipline amongst the Macanese, most of them are utterly and inexplainable rude people I must say. 
Sunday was the same day I wanted to do something different. So I decided I'd skyjump 233 meters down from Macau Tower. Lifechanging? Hell yeah. 
After feeling almost in tune with death for a brief 3 seconds, we had Chinese New Years eve dinner at the 59th floor revolving restaurant in Macau Tower dinner where we stuffed our faces with duck and crab-filled dumplings, topped with Green Tea pudding and creme brulee to name a few.
Monday we walk around the empty streets of Macau where Chinese New Years is surprisingly spent in solitude. I seriously felt as though I was walking through the scene from the horrible film The War of the Worlds, the chilly weather did not make it any better.
Tuesday we fly back to my hometown. Back to reality and this.
Wednesday I spent cramming for my theology exam. Thursday I spent catching up with my girl Vi on everything from what I missed the past few days to the future. CHEERS to that. Friday I yet again procrastinated a paper for my European Film class, while promoting for Crash Course event. Come 8PM, was already feeling the z's so I had to hype up with caffeine before hitting the club.
I always just came as a guest in the club. Gotten used to getting out of my car, walking straight up to the bouncer, getting my VIP stamp, and heading straight up. No problemo. But Friday, man, did everyone just pop outta no where wanting to be let in, wanting to talk, wanting to step outside, wanting to get in right away, wanting this and wanting that. Stressful shit but it was worth is seeing the event blossom into a hit. 
Hit the sack at 4:30 AM only to be woken up at 10AM for a shoot which ended at 10PM. Never have I played such an intense character in my life, it made me sick. I had to be so emo I wanted to stab myself already.
I thought I could use Sunday to catch up on sleep and readings, but I had to attend this Couples Seminar in SCHOOL at 7:45 AM. Holy mother of God. No one really wanted to know about the love lives, what more the sex lives of these strangers at 7:45 AM. Seriously. 7:45 AM. I just really have to stress the time. 7:45 AM.
After this, i have to catch up on some movies, then if my readings are lucky enough to be read, it will be read. As for now, snaps for procrastination, lack of sleep, and unfinished business. Can't afford to stop now.
