the life that we lead here is a metaphor in another universe or dimension.
don't forsake it.
closer
I just got myself a copy of Sarah McLachlan’s ‘THE BEST OF’ collection.
I see an artist who has evolved and progressed not only in terms of her writing skills but also of the images that she presents in each and every song she sings.
It is clear that she’s committed to perfecting her craft and she has chosen an impeccable line up of masterpieces she has written over the years.
Her full name is Sarah Ann McLachlan, she was born in Halifax, Nova Scotia and later on moved to Canada, and I have read that it was with her adoptive parents. She learned to strike black and white keys at such a tender age, and from the very onset, her folks knew that she would make it big. She got her first big break in 1987 and signed a record deal with Arista. She founded the Lilith Fair tour which brought together some of the biggest female musicians in the 1990's.
The collection included songs that I have ceaselessly listened to since high school (remember the TV series Felicity? Apparently the character’s a fan) – ‘Vox,’ (from Sarah’s first album - Touch) ‘I will remember you,’ ‘When she loved me,’ ‘Adia,’ ‘Building a mystery,’ ‘Path of thorns (Terms),’ (studio versions of the last three songs mentioned were present in the collection and the live covers are equally stunning). I was hoping that ‘Do what you have to do,’ and ‘Fear’ will be part of the album…but fear not, you will hear the crushing and outright excruciating words when you get a copy of ‘Surfacing.’ Fans will most definitely enjoy songs from her last studio-CD ‘Afterglow’ – ‘Fallen,’ ‘Stupid,’ and ‘World on fire.’ I am wondering why she did not include ‘Answer,’ emphatically one of my personal favorites.
Additional tracks are the heart-wrenching ‘Don’t give up on us’ – shedding light on Sarah’s capacity to make all those who listen to her linger in a standstill, with lyrics like ‘Baby don’t give up on us, I know you’re heart is full of doubts, you don’t need to be without these loving arms that will hold you through your darkest hour…’ In her song ‘U want me 2,’ she effortlessly renders her signature falsetto – I suppose she’s the only artist (for me, at least) anyone and everyone will most likely appreciate even when she doesn’t belt. She comes in soft yet strong, as the words defy gravity, then at the end of the chorus, her voice fades into almost a whisper, muttering the lines ‘Do you want me to stay and say I still want you…you want me too…don’t you?’ If you are to ask me I would say the song is more of an invitation rather than a question.
I have always felt that my life is a Sarah McLachlan song. Meaning I am always in the brink of depression. I was kidding. Not always but I suppose the more appropriate term would be ‘often.’ When she sings ‘Every moment marked with apparitions of your soul, I’m ever swiftly moving, trying to escape this desire,’ I am reminded of an unrequited love I couldn’t run away from for years. In the song ‘Fear,’ Sarah croons ‘I have nothing to give, I have so much to lose here in this lonely place, tangled up in your embrace, there’s nothing I’d like better than to fall…’ and I reminisce of the times I fell for someone but knew I would lose in the end yet I couldn’t put a halt and I descended, breaking my heart and my idealistic concepts of love. Her song ‘Train wreck’ bare these words: ‘a wild fire borne of frustration, borne of the one love that gets me so high…’ understanding how huge of a mess I was and I still am (I think) when I fall in love. You see when I do love, I fall so hard and I fall flat on my face sometimes and I don’t think it’s something we all would learn (too quick) from. We’d really have to go through it several times over prior to considering loving ourselves a little more before offering our affections and ourselves to another being.
Her songs are not simply maudlin…the emotions are raw and you know that the process she subjected herself through to conjure not just her heartbreaks but also her demons was painstaking. I think she’d make a good scriptwriter because she flawlessly depicts images and metaphors, for the purpose of evoking an all too familiar experience - bruising anguish and rupturing bliss - at the same time. Don’t ask me how she does that. Beats me.
What I love about her music is that it is intelligent – she’s multi talented – she plays a number of instruments and pens all of her songs. That is what makes her a force to reckon with. Though her music is categorized as ‘pop,’ as an artist, she has taken the language that she uses to express herself in different heights and levels. The melodies she uses are catchy but to some point unconventional – which really, to me, is essential, especially that people who call themselves ‘artists’ are sprouting everywhere.
And all I can say is WOW.
I see an artist who has evolved and progressed not only in terms of her writing skills but also of the images that she presents in each and every song she sings.
It is clear that she’s committed to perfecting her craft and she has chosen an impeccable line up of masterpieces she has written over the years.
Her full name is Sarah Ann McLachlan, she was born in Halifax, Nova Scotia and later on moved to Canada, and I have read that it was with her adoptive parents. She learned to strike black and white keys at such a tender age, and from the very onset, her folks knew that she would make it big. She got her first big break in 1987 and signed a record deal with Arista. She founded the Lilith Fair tour which brought together some of the biggest female musicians in the 1990's.The collection included songs that I have ceaselessly listened to since high school (remember the TV series Felicity? Apparently the character’s a fan) – ‘Vox,’ (from Sarah’s first album - Touch) ‘I will remember you,’ ‘When she loved me,’ ‘Adia,’ ‘Building a mystery,’ ‘Path of thorns (Terms),’ (studio versions of the last three songs mentioned were present in the collection and the live covers are equally stunning). I was hoping that ‘Do what you have to do,’ and ‘Fear’ will be part of the album…but fear not, you will hear the crushing and outright excruciating words when you get a copy of ‘Surfacing.’ Fans will most definitely enjoy songs from her last studio-CD ‘Afterglow’ – ‘Fallen,’ ‘Stupid,’ and ‘World on fire.’ I am wondering why she did not include ‘Answer,’ emphatically one of my personal favorites.
Additional tracks are the heart-wrenching ‘Don’t give up on us’ – shedding light on Sarah’s capacity to make all those who listen to her linger in a standstill, with lyrics like ‘Baby don’t give up on us, I know you’re heart is full of doubts, you don’t need to be without these loving arms that will hold you through your darkest hour…’ In her song ‘U want me 2,’ she effortlessly renders her signature falsetto – I suppose she’s the only artist (for me, at least) anyone and everyone will most likely appreciate even when she doesn’t belt. She comes in soft yet strong, as the words defy gravity, then at the end of the chorus, her voice fades into almost a whisper, muttering the lines ‘Do you want me to stay and say I still want you…you want me too…don’t you?’ If you are to ask me I would say the song is more of an invitation rather than a question.
I have always felt that my life is a Sarah McLachlan song. Meaning I am always in the brink of depression. I was kidding. Not always but I suppose the more appropriate term would be ‘often.’ When she sings ‘Every moment marked with apparitions of your soul, I’m ever swiftly moving, trying to escape this desire,’ I am reminded of an unrequited love I couldn’t run away from for years. In the song ‘Fear,’ Sarah croons ‘I have nothing to give, I have so much to lose here in this lonely place, tangled up in your embrace, there’s nothing I’d like better than to fall…’ and I reminisce of the times I fell for someone but knew I would lose in the end yet I couldn’t put a halt and I descended, breaking my heart and my idealistic concepts of love. Her song ‘Train wreck’ bare these words: ‘a wild fire borne of frustration, borne of the one love that gets me so high…’ understanding how huge of a mess I was and I still am (I think) when I fall in love. You see when I do love, I fall so hard and I fall flat on my face sometimes and I don’t think it’s something we all would learn (too quick) from. We’d really have to go through it several times over prior to considering loving ourselves a little more before offering our affections and ourselves to another being.Her songs are not simply maudlin…the emotions are raw and you know that the process she subjected herself through to conjure not just her heartbreaks but also her demons was painstaking. I think she’d make a good scriptwriter because she flawlessly depicts images and metaphors, for the purpose of evoking an all too familiar experience - bruising anguish and rupturing bliss - at the same time. Don’t ask me how she does that. Beats me.
What I love about her music is that it is intelligent – she’s multi talented – she plays a number of instruments and pens all of her songs. That is what makes her a force to reckon with. Though her music is categorized as ‘pop,’ as an artist, she has taken the language that she uses to express herself in different heights and levels. The melodies she uses are catchy but to some point unconventional – which really, to me, is essential, especially that people who call themselves ‘artists’ are sprouting everywhere.
She did not just cross borders…she has succeeded in creating and defining what music is and should mean for this and the coming generations.
Disclaimer: I wrote this not just because I am a big fan of hers or that I am biased to her inarguable talent, but because I really do believe that she deserves to be where she is now.
written November 28, 2008
the breadth
in which your silence falls
drench the impossible
and decrepit weariness
from which my bones
ache and my skin
trembles and in
shackles and chains
i lay in the blackness
my spirit fastened
to the wind rebelling
against the sky
the ocean swallowing
the laughter of
winter and the rage
of despair
with my wounds
open for the memories
to hurt
parting my flesh
with your hands
breaking the
rough edges of my
dream.
drench the impossible
and decrepit weariness
from which my bones
ache and my skin
trembles and in
shackles and chains
i lay in the blackness
my spirit fastened
to the wind rebelling
against the sky
the ocean swallowing
the laughter of
winter and the rage
of despair
with my wounds
open for the memories
to hurt
parting my flesh
with your hands
breaking the
rough edges of my
dream.
home to a stranger
coming home one
sunday from a long
travel an unfortunate
journey i got my
heart bruised and
cracked now your teeth
sinks in my flesh
with our bed unmade
reminds me of the riot
in my head just when
you were holding me
still lying on top of me
under the sheets
naked, naive, nothing
you did make me feel
i am your muse
no longer in vain
all in pain craving
for the silence in this room
my empty eyes
looking out the window
where the heavy rain
falls striking the ground
my soul accelerates
toward your hands
starving, stranger.
sunday from a long
travel an unfortunate
journey i got my
heart bruised and
cracked now your teeth
sinks in my flesh
with our bed unmade
reminds me of the riot
in my head just when
you were holding me
still lying on top of me
under the sheets
naked, naive, nothing
you did make me feel
i am your muse
no longer in vain
all in pain craving
for the silence in this room
my empty eyes
looking out the window
where the heavy rain
falls striking the ground
my soul accelerates
toward your hands
starving, stranger.
revolution
sinking in disillusionments
in the promises that
we never kept
spoken but never
understood
revealed but not
to be believed
too much of the
confusion
yielding to delusion
smokes and reflections
arising from
uncertain midnights
unaware of the
darkness that
awaits
this pain borne of
the separation, the
stagnation and
the repercussions
getting worse
finding out
in the end
i died in the
beginning.
in the promises that
we never kept
spoken but never
understood
revealed but not
to be believed
too much of the
confusion
yielding to delusion
smokes and reflections
arising from
uncertain midnights
unaware of the
darkness that
awaits
this pain borne of
the separation, the
stagnation and
the repercussions
getting worse
finding out
in the end
i died in the
beginning.
the book of answers
i asked:
'we're going to stay forever, right?'
then i opened the book...
it said:
'no matter what'
sct exercise, day 10
I am masochistic. Did that make me sound like a lunatic? I hope not. I really am not fascinated about physical pain, but I prefer it over emotional torment. Whenever I feel depressed, I have the tendency, not to lament about it, but maybe, say, get my ears pierced. So what I wear and what you see in me isn’t just for attracting attention. It is a form of expression, it’s a testament of a specific period in time I went through something in my life.
I know being depressed often isn’t really healthy and at one point I believed it would hasten my death of something. But that is just how I am made. Just this year, before I turned twenty-two, I was feeling nostalgic, always longing for the one person I no longer have – my father. I guess what hurts more is the truth that I am ‘aging’ or getting older, to subtly put it, and my father is not with us. I am growing old and he’s not there to see it. He won’t be around to witness anything – for as long as I live. So I did what I never thought I would do this soon…I got inked. Well, it was something I have always considered, and in a way, I also wanted to do something ‘major’ before I celebrate my birthday.
I had the Arabic word ‘Imani’ tattooed on my hip. It means ‘faith.’ It’s really important for me, it is something I emphatically would want to be reminded of, that I carry within me. The whole experience was cathartic. I know I was conquering my fear. I have always believed that we fear what remains unknown to us. Marking myself wasn’t at all peculiar. It wasn’t as if you would not or cannot imagine me with one, but people did not think I would get mine sooner than I had hoped.
Everything was premeditated. I mean I already know what I would like to put on my body but I never really felt the urgency to do it until some days before my birthday. And now that it is done, the funny thing is that I am not sure if I am over it. It is completely insane – for other people, but I know it is also completely justifiable. I couldn’t say that it was a spiritual experience, but then I couldn’t say that it isn’t.
My exact words after I had it were: ‘I feel totally aligned with the universe.’ And just like anything unattempted in life, we theorize, we consume ourselves thinking about something..like I was expecting that doing it would really, will tremendously painful. But the entire incident wasn’t what I initially had in mind. I think I underestimated my capacity to endure pain.
But that’s precisely the reason why I think I am a masochist.
written sept. 15, 2005
who isn't
in love with chris brown right now?
i don't know about you guys but i am.
isn't he just the sexiest, most talented artist of this freakin' generation?
not to mention he is down to earth.
you're one lucky girl, rihanna!
the L word
So what is The L word? Apart from it being a newsworthy, critically-acclaimed and groundbreaking lesbian drama produced by Showtime, the L word ought to mean something.
The L word for me would be…LIVE. And LOVE.
I went to The L word website on Showtime earlier and stumbled upon what would be the greatest shock of my life (at least for today, I think). By early 2009, the provocative series will return for its sixth (gasp) and final (by now I have passed out) season.
I feel nostalgic about this. No, actually, I feel like a tragedy is about to befall me. I have been following the show since the year 2004 and have been witness to the drastic and graceful transformation of TV drama. Ilene Chaiken, creator and executive producer of The L Word brought to life some of the most intricate characters ever seen on television, and possibly – the most beautiful women we will ever see in this universe.
The L word for me would be…LIVE. And LOVE.
I went to The L word website on Showtime earlier and stumbled upon what would be the greatest shock of my life (at least for today, I think). By early 2009, the provocative series will return for its sixth (gasp) and final (by now I have passed out) season.
I feel nostalgic about this. No, actually, I feel like a tragedy is about to befall me. I have been following the show since the year 2004 and have been witness to the drastic and graceful transformation of TV drama. Ilene Chaiken, creator and executive producer of The L Word brought to life some of the most intricate characters ever seen on television, and possibly – the most beautiful women we will ever see in this universe.
Personally, what I love about The L Word is the fact that the individuals and their stories – their histories – are all very raw and complex. It tells us in our face that nothing is ever easy. I suppose, more than anything, this proves true for us who are called ‘lesbians’ or ‘gays.’
Up to this moment, I do not understand why people would have to be called by names other than that which their parents gave them. I cannot fathom why there always has to be a label, why there should be a name for every single thing on earth…classifying people, more so, discriminating them. Whoever said that we have to be divided by all these terminologies? Whoever said that certain kinds of people are to be called bisexuals, transsexuals, lesbians, straights? Labels are for clothes and for filing. They are most certainly not for human beings. It is one thing for a person to admit ‘who’ or ‘what’ she really is, it’s quite another to call her by a different name that would suggest she’s beyond being ‘normal.’ At this point, any hopeful person would like to believe that people would have changed. Or believe that eventually, people would change and would no longer feel that it is necessary to typecast others. I hope I won’t ever see humanity’s appalling tailspin.
Before I go back to the very reason why I wrote this, let me just share something with all of you - this is from a book called 'What God Wants' (by N. D. Walsch) - probably one of the most 'dangerous' books I have ever read - all because a lot many people would always have their notion of what God wants. And some of them would as far as insinuating that it is the truth and the only truth you should acknowledge. This book is different, however, and the approach of the author embraces various facets and levels of some of the most talked about topics, for one:
On Homosexuality:
'Humans will understand that there is no form and no manner in which the expression of love that is pure and true is inappropriate.'
The L Word is termed as a ‘lesbian’ drama…not because it seeks to typecast itself, but all because it is proud of its beginning and its reason – to shed light on the different struggles of women in life and in love – perhaps it wouldn’t make much of an impact because it doesn’t really depict the lives of all women, but nevertheless, The L Word provoked the status quo.
Two of my favorite characters on the show are Bette Porter and Tina Kennard, portrayed by Jennifer Beals and Laurel Holloman, respectively. When the show opened, we see Bette and Tina trying to get pregnant (in vitro fertilization) after being together for 7 years. The manner in which both their lives unfolded was extraordinarily intense. Within the next four to five years, I saw them break up because Bette had an affair with a carpenter by the name Candice (the incident itself wasn’t sweet at all, it blasted what was left of my ailing heart), Tina concealed her pregnancy, Bette lost her post in the California Arts Center and lost her father, Tina moved on with a guy named Henry after giving birth to baby Angelica, Bette became the Dean of Arts in California University and where she met resident artist Jodi Lerner (played by Marlee Matlin) who she will soon drop after realizing that Tina will always be the one.
Okay, I did not just give you a synopsis, did I? I don’t suppose I can write a précis about Bette and Tina’s life together. For those of you who have not seen the show, I am a proud owner of fake DVDs for all five seasons – courtesy of the Quiapo flea market – so just give me a buzz if you’d ever be curious to see what I am talking about.
All the actresses in the series created not just characters, but icons – all of which paved way in changing cultural perceptions of the gay and lesbian communities, both on and off screen.
When The L Word culminates, I know that nothing will ever be the same. Not only because there won’t be anything to look forward to every year, but because I am unsure if there would ever be another show as rebellious and as thought provoking as The L Word have been. Nevertheless, this generation is lucky – for we were allowed to take a look at the less than perfect lives of other women – their frustrations, their pains, their glory, their agony, their inner struggles and romantic entanglements – it bears the truth that all of us are interconnected, that our lives aren’t too different. That gender does not and will not exclude anyone from life’s beatings and surprises.
The L Word is a testament to so many things – to the actresses, writers, directors and producers whose passion is seething it all translated impeccably on all episodes, who are not petrified to challenge the norm, the capacity of these people to create what possibly could be the best show to hit the tube.
I would like to end this by quoting Jennifer Beals’ character, Bette, when she was asked by her father about what she’d tell God when they finally meet.
‘I am your creation and I am proud.’
Up to this moment, I do not understand why people would have to be called by names other than that which their parents gave them. I cannot fathom why there always has to be a label, why there should be a name for every single thing on earth…classifying people, more so, discriminating them. Whoever said that we have to be divided by all these terminologies? Whoever said that certain kinds of people are to be called bisexuals, transsexuals, lesbians, straights? Labels are for clothes and for filing. They are most certainly not for human beings. It is one thing for a person to admit ‘who’ or ‘what’ she really is, it’s quite another to call her by a different name that would suggest she’s beyond being ‘normal.’ At this point, any hopeful person would like to believe that people would have changed. Or believe that eventually, people would change and would no longer feel that it is necessary to typecast others. I hope I won’t ever see humanity’s appalling tailspin.
Before I go back to the very reason why I wrote this, let me just share something with all of you - this is from a book called 'What God Wants' (by N. D. Walsch) - probably one of the most 'dangerous' books I have ever read - all because a lot many people would always have their notion of what God wants. And some of them would as far as insinuating that it is the truth and the only truth you should acknowledge. This book is different, however, and the approach of the author embraces various facets and levels of some of the most talked about topics, for one:
On Homosexuality:
'Humans will understand that there is no form and no manner in which the expression of love that is pure and true is inappropriate.'
The L Word is termed as a ‘lesbian’ drama…not because it seeks to typecast itself, but all because it is proud of its beginning and its reason – to shed light on the different struggles of women in life and in love – perhaps it wouldn’t make much of an impact because it doesn’t really depict the lives of all women, but nevertheless, The L Word provoked the status quo.
Two of my favorite characters on the show are Bette Porter and Tina Kennard, portrayed by Jennifer Beals and Laurel Holloman, respectively. When the show opened, we see Bette and Tina trying to get pregnant (in vitro fertilization) after being together for 7 years. The manner in which both their lives unfolded was extraordinarily intense. Within the next four to five years, I saw them break up because Bette had an affair with a carpenter by the name Candice (the incident itself wasn’t sweet at all, it blasted what was left of my ailing heart), Tina concealed her pregnancy, Bette lost her post in the California Arts Center and lost her father, Tina moved on with a guy named Henry after giving birth to baby Angelica, Bette became the Dean of Arts in California University and where she met resident artist Jodi Lerner (played by Marlee Matlin) who she will soon drop after realizing that Tina will always be the one.
Okay, I did not just give you a synopsis, did I? I don’t suppose I can write a précis about Bette and Tina’s life together. For those of you who have not seen the show, I am a proud owner of fake DVDs for all five seasons – courtesy of the Quiapo flea market – so just give me a buzz if you’d ever be curious to see what I am talking about.
All the actresses in the series created not just characters, but icons – all of which paved way in changing cultural perceptions of the gay and lesbian communities, both on and off screen.
When The L Word culminates, I know that nothing will ever be the same. Not only because there won’t be anything to look forward to every year, but because I am unsure if there would ever be another show as rebellious and as thought provoking as The L Word have been. Nevertheless, this generation is lucky – for we were allowed to take a look at the less than perfect lives of other women – their frustrations, their pains, their glory, their agony, their inner struggles and romantic entanglements – it bears the truth that all of us are interconnected, that our lives aren’t too different. That gender does not and will not exclude anyone from life’s beatings and surprises.
The L Word is a testament to so many things – to the actresses, writers, directors and producers whose passion is seething it all translated impeccably on all episodes, who are not petrified to challenge the norm, the capacity of these people to create what possibly could be the best show to hit the tube.
I would like to end this by quoting Jennifer Beals’ character, Bette, when she was asked by her father about what she’d tell God when they finally meet.
‘I am your creation and I am proud.’
the truth of the matter is...
when my mother and sister found out that i have ‘inked’ myself…they did not speak to me for a week (it felt like one whole era though)…but being the stubborn person that i sometimes am (or really am), i decided not to start any conversation with them…it was this heavy, awkward and dead silence…as if someone actually passed away. i mean, it is not like i killed someone (though there might have been moments i probably wanted to do just that), or got myself involved in some street pharmaceutical gang (or really got into drugs) or came home one day, pregnant, hapless and sans a husband, or lost my sense of direction…
…i did not speak to them because i know that it was (or is) my right to uphold the truths that i honor
…i did not speak to them because i refuse to be categorized, stereotyped and
…i refuse to be reduced to someone who is simply wasting her life away
i am not any less than who i am.
i embrace my diversity and my individuality.
i am myself.
a claim to my identity
i wrote this about two years ago and posted it on my other blog...
i am not sure, but sometimes, when people ask me this question…i am left…wondering…asking myself if i have suddenly become the focus of the universe ~ without me being aware of it. a lot, i mean, a lot of people have come up to me to just ask about my…sexual orientation. what the hell?! it never felt like i really have to answer it, maybe these people really just can’t help it. this is not an attempt to end the discussion, just a way, maybe, for me to share my thoughts about it. i am not going to say that i am inclined to one or the other, or just one of the two. i want to actually be…label~free. i am single. period. if they want to call me heterosexual…that’ll be their choice.
but as far as i am concerned…i don’t want to be ‘tagged’ like everyone else. i am my own person. i am myself. this is who i am…and all that i am. i don’t believe that i am too feminine nor too masculine. i like the fact that i am never ashamed of my weaknesses and i am content because i have a million reasons to believe that i am a strong and brave and courageous.
as far as love is concerned…i am alone, but am never lonely. i want to keep my thoughts open to all the possibilities…and impossibilities. for me, it matters not whether love takes the form of a man or a woman…we can also love a child or a pet and it’s still love. and nothing can break that. sometimes people think that when someone loves, the feeling would have to be exact. but i beg to differ…love, of course, is infinite…it bears different meanings because each individual perceives it in a different way. we all have our inclinations, i’d say i am ‘bi-curious,’ i am different…(and i love being unconventional…haha)…that is why i have a different perception of love. it does not matter what form or shape love takes…at the end of it all…it is still love. right now i am thinking of the love that i have for myself…(hmmm…am i smelling the tendency of having a narcissistic personality disorder?!) i still cannot get over the fact that this world is populated with people who like categorizing and stereotyping others. it is sad, i know…especially when i realize that i am still very young and i’d have to live through all of it in the years to come. it’s a fact that i’d have to live through it but it does not mean i have to accept it or tolerate it.
anyway, when i do things, or to avoid confusion…when i mark myself…for me it is to show that i own my individuality…that i know my essence, and i would like to believe that i am free of fear. i’ve had enough of it. i do not want for others to think that i simply am a self-loathing body mutilator because i am not. on the contrary, i love who i am, i love the person i have become and i know nothing stops here…i will continue to evolve, grow, mature and age (but not too fast though)…gracefully. i have so much to say. there is so much in this world and in this life that i feel so positive about. i am sure that there are still others who share the same vision…and that reality alone cures all the pain that i have gone through and will still see in the future.
elizabeth barrett browning once said: ‘earth’s crammed with heaven.’
and it is. i believe it is.
i am not sure, but sometimes, when people ask me this question…i am left…wondering…asking myself if i have suddenly become the focus of the universe ~ without me being aware of it. a lot, i mean, a lot of people have come up to me to just ask about my…sexual orientation. what the hell?! it never felt like i really have to answer it, maybe these people really just can’t help it. this is not an attempt to end the discussion, just a way, maybe, for me to share my thoughts about it. i am not going to say that i am inclined to one or the other, or just one of the two. i want to actually be…label~free. i am single. period. if they want to call me heterosexual…that’ll be their choice.
but as far as i am concerned…i don’t want to be ‘tagged’ like everyone else. i am my own person. i am myself. this is who i am…and all that i am. i don’t believe that i am too feminine nor too masculine. i like the fact that i am never ashamed of my weaknesses and i am content because i have a million reasons to believe that i am a strong and brave and courageous.
as far as love is concerned…i am alone, but am never lonely. i want to keep my thoughts open to all the possibilities…and impossibilities. for me, it matters not whether love takes the form of a man or a woman…we can also love a child or a pet and it’s still love. and nothing can break that. sometimes people think that when someone loves, the feeling would have to be exact. but i beg to differ…love, of course, is infinite…it bears different meanings because each individual perceives it in a different way. we all have our inclinations, i’d say i am ‘bi-curious,’ i am different…(and i love being unconventional…haha)…that is why i have a different perception of love. it does not matter what form or shape love takes…at the end of it all…it is still love. right now i am thinking of the love that i have for myself…(hmmm…am i smelling the tendency of having a narcissistic personality disorder?!) i still cannot get over the fact that this world is populated with people who like categorizing and stereotyping others. it is sad, i know…especially when i realize that i am still very young and i’d have to live through all of it in the years to come. it’s a fact that i’d have to live through it but it does not mean i have to accept it or tolerate it.
anyway, when i do things, or to avoid confusion…when i mark myself…for me it is to show that i own my individuality…that i know my essence, and i would like to believe that i am free of fear. i’ve had enough of it. i do not want for others to think that i simply am a self-loathing body mutilator because i am not. on the contrary, i love who i am, i love the person i have become and i know nothing stops here…i will continue to evolve, grow, mature and age (but not too fast though)…gracefully. i have so much to say. there is so much in this world and in this life that i feel so positive about. i am sure that there are still others who share the same vision…and that reality alone cures all the pain that i have gone through and will still see in the future.
elizabeth barrett browning once said: ‘earth’s crammed with heaven.’
and it is. i believe it is.
in darkness and in light
the things that you let go of and the things that you hold on to...
consider them.
the woman of the hour
I first saw Jennifer Beals in Flashdance. Of course. That was her first major starring role and she was drafted to play Alex Owens right after high school. She danced to the song ‘She’s a maniac’ and this totally made everyone go maniacal – as Flashdance became the third highest grossing film in America of 1983. In 1983!!! I was born in 1983. That makes Jennifer nineteen or twenty years older than me. But I could care less, really. She’s hotter than hot, and can I just say this for the record – better than filet mignon – if there is such a thing. And I just want to write about the actress who got me watching The L word before I talk about the series I have been following for years now.Jennifer – I hope she doesn’t curse me for calling her by her first name – was born to an Irish mother and an African-American father. She went to Yale and received a degree in American Literature, graduated with flying colors. After Flashdance and before her stint in The L Word, she starred in more than 40 or 50 movies, some were major roles, most of them she played minor parts. But what’s really amazing is that she survived in the movie business and was never the kind of actress who would settle for anything less. She focused primarily on independent films and wasn’t really the type who would clinch the camera for spotlight.
When I started watching The L Word, I was awed by her talent. She plays Bette Porter, a control freak alpha female who seeks to destroy just about everything that she created – figuratively and literally. You have an actress who is unrelenting of her integrity to stay true to her character – she does not just ‘play’ Bette. She is Bette. I don’t suppose there is anyone who can sink her teeth into the role better than Jennifer Beals has. Her character Bette is not only a lesbian, she’s also biracial and Jennifer has said in a number of interviews that she appreciates what the role has to offer her as an actress – the depth of being sort of an ‘outcast’ of society, not solely because of gender but also because of race.
Because of her role in The L Word, Jennifer, to legions of fans – gay or otherwise – has become some sort of a heroine, being their voice and perhaps an unofficial spokesperson. And now let me speak for myself. She is a creative writer and all that but there is one thing that she said in particular that hits home – underscoring her insight and understanding of where she stands – apart from the whole, apart from the society – in terms of respecting the choices that each and everyone of us makes –
‘Love is large, love defies limits. People talk about the sanctity of love…love is by definition sacred. Not some love between some people but all love between all people. How can anyone say one person’s love is more sacred than another person’s? If indeed it is love it is sanctified. If it is indeed love, the right to marriage is not questionable. In my mind nothing pleases God more than love. I do not think it pleases God to codify bigotry. I do not think it pleases God that fear guides the hand of the law in the name of a cultural war.’
Thus spoke Jennifer Beals.
If only most of the people in the world are as enlightened as she is. If only.
one hundred eighty
This is just one of the many nights I went to work armed with nothing but a three hour sleep. In short, one hundred eighty minutes.
And I don’t know what the hell I need to do to keep myself awake. I have asked one of my friends to slap me the second he sees me sleeping. You see I have chinky eyes…today they are exceptionally chinky and…swollen. I never imagined my eyes could get any smaller than it already is.
I feel like I am having an out of the body experience right at this moment. My brain is minding something else and it's not me. One of the means I have explored to make sure that I last today wide awake: EXTRA JOSS. I couldn’t believe that I am trying different flavors of EJ now. I am currently gulping a glass of cold Club Soda. Yummmm…not really.
I am unsure if I can write something – or anything that would actually make sense – so before I lose my senses and eventually have my writing suffer – I would like to say something to my wife -
Thank you for being with me and battling arguments, instead of sleeping on it. Thank you for putting up with me and for accepting the fact that I sometimes can really be a selfish hard-headed mess – and not being daunted by it. Thank you for making me feel that whenever we fight, it is for the sake of clarifying things and getting our thoughts across, not because we want to make matters worse. Thank you most of all, for making me realize that there won’t be a fight or an argument that I’ll be willing to put myself through – if it means keeping you, if it means making love to no one else but you…
If it means loving you one day more.
You are the only one that feels like home.
And I don’t know what the hell I need to do to keep myself awake. I have asked one of my friends to slap me the second he sees me sleeping. You see I have chinky eyes…today they are exceptionally chinky and…swollen. I never imagined my eyes could get any smaller than it already is.
I feel like I am having an out of the body experience right at this moment. My brain is minding something else and it's not me. One of the means I have explored to make sure that I last today wide awake: EXTRA JOSS. I couldn’t believe that I am trying different flavors of EJ now. I am currently gulping a glass of cold Club Soda. Yummmm…not really.
I am unsure if I can write something – or anything that would actually make sense – so before I lose my senses and eventually have my writing suffer – I would like to say something to my wife -
Thank you for being with me and battling arguments, instead of sleeping on it. Thank you for putting up with me and for accepting the fact that I sometimes can really be a selfish hard-headed mess – and not being daunted by it. Thank you for making me feel that whenever we fight, it is for the sake of clarifying things and getting our thoughts across, not because we want to make matters worse. Thank you most of all, for making me realize that there won’t be a fight or an argument that I’ll be willing to put myself through – if it means keeping you, if it means making love to no one else but you…
If it means loving you one day more.
You are the only one that feels like home.
proust questionnaire
Taken from the back page of Vanity Fair magazine.
Every month some famous person answers.
Now it's my turn to be a celebrity:
What is your idea of perfect happiness?
When I stop wanting more.
What is your greatest fear?
To not bear a child.
Which living person do you most admire?
My mom.
What is your greatest extravagance?
Books! (coffee too).
What is your greatest regret?
No regrets.
What living person do you most despise?
The one who brought hell into my existence.
Which talent would you most like to have?
Talent to eat fire. Or to walk on water.
What is your current state of mind?
Mindless. Unstable.
When and where were you happiest?
When I follow my heart’s desires.
What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Chastity (ahahahaha)
What is your most treasured possession?
My writings
What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
When we give up (on anything) without a fight
What is the quality you most like in a man?
Patience. I am glad that there’s still a couple of guys out there who have their morals intact
What is the quality you most like in a woman?
Endurance.
What do you most value in your friends?
Their thoughts and their understanding.
Who are your favorite writers?
Paulo Coelho, Pablo Neruda, Neil Gaiman, Gabriel Garcia-Marquez, Isabel Allende, Walt Whitman, Ricardo M. De Ungria, Jessica Zafra.
Who is your favorite hero/ine of fiction?
The Sandman.
Who are your hero/ines in real life?
Oprah (ching!) Angelina Jolie.
How would you like to die?
NO!
What is your motto?
While I breathe, I hope.
Every month some famous person answers.
Now it's my turn to be a celebrity:
What is your idea of perfect happiness?
When I stop wanting more.
What is your greatest fear?
To not bear a child.
Which living person do you most admire?
My mom.
What is your greatest extravagance?
Books! (coffee too).
What is your greatest regret?
No regrets.
What living person do you most despise?
The one who brought hell into my existence.
Which talent would you most like to have?
Talent to eat fire. Or to walk on water.
What is your current state of mind?
Mindless. Unstable.
When and where were you happiest?
When I follow my heart’s desires.
What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Chastity (ahahahaha)
What is your most treasured possession?
My writings
What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
When we give up (on anything) without a fight
What is the quality you most like in a man?
Patience. I am glad that there’s still a couple of guys out there who have their morals intact
What is the quality you most like in a woman?
Endurance.
What do you most value in your friends?
Their thoughts and their understanding.
Who are your favorite writers?
Paulo Coelho, Pablo Neruda, Neil Gaiman, Gabriel Garcia-Marquez, Isabel Allende, Walt Whitman, Ricardo M. De Ungria, Jessica Zafra.
Who is your favorite hero/ine of fiction?
The Sandman.
Who are your hero/ines in real life?
Oprah (ching!) Angelina Jolie.
How would you like to die?
NO!
What is your motto?
While I breathe, I hope.
the femme fetales
in grade school, my days were filled with terror teachers and terror classmates. the terror teachers, i suppose, was something that everyone went through, ergo, the notion makes it tolerable. the terror classmates, however, was another thing. there was ralph - my 'slightly' overweight classmate when i was in fifth grade, who said he wants to court me so he can just borrow my notes on our science class - was something. then there was one called 'yabut'...no actually, i am calling him yabut because i can no longer recall his first name. this boy would literally chase me around the school grounds after our class (which ends at lunchtime) with an ingenious gadget in his hands - something meant to send small doses of electricity through my body if it comes near me (in short, pangkuryente eheheh).
when i was in high school i met my long-time best friend, monette, and with her, i pondered on the following things: how to get rid of my zits (not that i had a lot but it was a valid subject for a conversation), several instances of unrequited love, teachers who drove us nuts (quite literally), our next science project, raging hormones. wahahaha. i love high school. i enjoyed being one - one of the geeks that is.
then the inevitable came. i am talking about college. i knew that my struggles and accomplishments in high school wouldn't matter so much if i won't finish college. my father died when i was 14 and i knew that i have to work twice as much (or a thousand times as much) so i can complete my studies. i was lucky enought to be granted a scholarship in La Consolacion College Manila. i am proud of my alma mater for two things - one, for the education that i was given and two, for the friends that i met. it used to be an all-girl school (they started taking in students of the other gender the year after i graduated) and i thought i would have a difficult time finding people to hang out with. i am happy that i was wrong.
when i was in high school i met my long-time best friend, monette, and with her, i pondered on the following things: how to get rid of my zits (not that i had a lot but it was a valid subject for a conversation), several instances of unrequited love, teachers who drove us nuts (quite literally), our next science project, raging hormones. wahahaha. i love high school. i enjoyed being one - one of the geeks that is.
then the inevitable came. i am talking about college. i knew that my struggles and accomplishments in high school wouldn't matter so much if i won't finish college. my father died when i was 14 and i knew that i have to work twice as much (or a thousand times as much) so i can complete my studies. i was lucky enought to be granted a scholarship in La Consolacion College Manila. i am proud of my alma mater for two things - one, for the education that i was given and two, for the friends that i met. it used to be an all-girl school (they started taking in students of the other gender the year after i graduated) and i thought i would have a difficult time finding people to hang out with. i am happy that i was wrong.
hindi ko alam bakit wala si louie, baka sya yung photographerin college i met my best friends in the person of: mumai, ara, josane, cherry and louie. we started a circle aptly called 'the femme fetales.'
they say that a femme fetale is an alluring and seductive woman whose charms ensnare her lovers in bonds of irresistible desire, often leading men into compromising, dangerous, and deadly situations. i agree with the charms and irrisistible desire bit but i know nothing about putting men in compromising instances. not one of us is related to the Mata Hari and mumai and i haven't officially dabbled in pole dancing. wahaha.
sorry wala na naman si louie
they are five of the greatest friends i will ever know in this lifetime, that i am sure of. more than being a bunch of desirable women, they are also five of the most trustworthy people i know. they allowed me to grow and be who i am without the worry that i will be judged or criticized. they kept me sane, they kept me grounded and they kept me from breaking my heart several times over through their priceless nuggets of wisdom.
allow me to introduce and briefly describe each of them:
mumai - i met her during freshmen orientation, my 17th birthday, if i remember it correctly. you see before i went to college, i had to create a nickname - téa - and that is because i don't want for people to start calling me potpot (my nick at home). mumai was the culprit. she started calling me potpot and soon enough everyone else is calling me potpot. i got tired of correcting people so yeah - eight years later, i am still potpot to them. no mumai, if you are reading this, let me be clear that i am not sour graping...it's too late for that sweetie. mumai was one of my thesis mates, a math whiz (to me you are) and a bitch (or would transform into one) if the situation calls for it. she doesn't give a damn about what other people would say about her, she's very upfront and was never daunted by 'in your face' scenarios, meaning she would tell you in your face that she does not like you and would not bother looking back.
ara - my sister in music and in verse. she was awfully shy and quiet when i first time met her, but we instantly hit it off when i asked her if she has ever seen the movie GIA (and her answer was yes, of course). she was carrying a copy of womenagerie by jessica zafra and was donning a short hair during the first official meeting of members of the honors society. later on ara and i developed a special kind closeness - she was the first person to know of my childhood nightmares and was kind enough to sit through it one saturday afternoon. she reacquainted me in my interest in playing guitar and singing and was also one of the few who appreciated the poems and other crazy stuff that i wrote before.
josane - she was my other thesis mate and more than being a humorous person, this girl has a sensible head on her shoulders. she introduced me to pinoy rock - and had me listening to imago, fatale posporos and cynthia alexander. if i remember it right, she was the one who started bringing the group to baluarte every friday night. she was not the kind who'd be quiet, except when we were drinking tequila. maingay po talaga siya. what i love about josane is her willingness to listen. i know there is a big possibility that i have not thanked her for this but i am hoping it's not too late. thank you, pare, for always lending an ear to me, to us, before and now. and thank you for not failing to make us laugh our ass of, for being yourself and for showing us how great it is to have a friend who will attempt to make us all snigger till our cheeks hurt.
cherry - or mary rose (i hope that's correct), according to her birth certificate, taught my nephew botchok to call her 'tato' (short for tita and tito). cherry loves making us laugh too, but more than that, she's one of those i know who have overcome so much of her fears and never showed a sign of giving up. she's one of the most courageous friends i have, and as all of us know - undauntedly pressed on regardless of the situation. cherry i think was the first to suggest that we drink el hombre one time we wanted to get intoxicated. soon enough el hombre tequila was a household name. she has a huge crush on karen mok (or is it shu qi?), shares the same zodiac sign (cancer) with me, which means she plus me equals two much likely to be a little more emotional than usual if we are drunk people.
louie - weng (or 'wing' to some people ahaha) was introduced to me by ara. i sort of envied her because she took up psychology but i am okay now (nyahaha). i am just really happy that she became one of those who offered me advices (both solicited and unsolicited) to see to it that i don't fall flat on my face each and every time the name 'hilson' comes up. she's a singer herself, she talks a lot (which i suppose is a common denominator we all share). i believe at one point she vowed to not be involved with men for the mean time, until kuya gado (gado, ikaw na!!!). katulad ni mumai, aquarian din po si louie, kaya OC din sya. wahaha. she's also an artist...meaning mahilig mag-drawing. hanggang drawing lang po siya pag kailangan mag-meet ng tropa. but i love you, you know that :) peace :)
i once read that we create relationships because we need witnesses to our lives - people who can attest that we existed. these five people are definitely more than that. they are not just witnesses, they are the reason why all the tribulations in college - and now, life in general - almost did not (and do not) mean anything - because they were all there to lend a hand in case one stumbles, because they are there to listen to me when i need to whine and to yap at me when i need to stop whining. they are my approval committee - not that they would say anything unkind to the person i happen to like but their opinion will always matter. they are five people i know who are capable of blackmailing me at any given time all because they know everything about me. they offered me something that was not there when i first set foot in our college.
ayun si louie, yung katabi ni mumai
they offered me a new universe. a universe that did not exist and would not exist if not for them. a universe where words, hope, faith, love, and passion are our ammunition to a world sometimes devoid of sympathy. since we were all scholarship recipients - school was a freaking battlefield. we shared the agony of waiting for our grades everytime a semester ends (we always would feel that what we did wasn't good enough - no matter how hard we studied). i share with each of them a history - of all the good things that i'd ever learn of. i am grateful for having all of them in my life, even more grateful for knowing that i am in theirs. their friendship and understanding embraces all that has been and will ever be.
nagbabalik
katha ng tingin
kislap sa dilim
lumilipad ang iyong halik
sa ulap ng panaginip
sa iyong alab
nabubuhay ang
hibla ng bawat pangarap
ibig kang itakas sa
karimlan
naglalayag sa landaas
ng iyong paniniwala
tangan ang pag-ibig
at pag-asa
inaasam ang iyong pangako
iaalay sa iyong paanan ~
diwa, pagnanais, pagwawari
hanggang makarating sa
alapaap na inilahad at
kinatha ng iyong tingin.
kislap sa dilim
lumilipad ang iyong halik
sa ulap ng panaginip
sa iyong alab
nabubuhay ang
hibla ng bawat pangarap
ibig kang itakas sa
karimlan
naglalayag sa landaas
ng iyong paniniwala
tangan ang pag-ibig
at pag-asa
inaasam ang iyong pangako
iaalay sa iyong paanan ~
diwa, pagnanais, pagwawari
hanggang makarating sa
alapaap na inilahad at
kinatha ng iyong tingin.
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