Neko

This was an overdue post for Last week. The days prior to that has indeed brought a terrifying series of sleeplessness. It might be medical in nature - caused by the unhealthy sleeping habits of night-shift CC employees, or a side-effect of insomnia or could be messages from my sub-conscious.

Monday morning - I dreamt I was alone in the elevator heading for the Penthouse, the top floor of our building. When the doors opened, there was total darkness, except for the faint light coming from the emergency stairs on the far left side of the floor. It silhouetted a big box full of junk things that I couldn’t really distinguish. Then I whispered without moving from my place, “are you there?” But not really pertaining to anyone. Then when there was no answer, I pressed the close button then tried to press the 16th floor.

But to my fright, the panel where all the buttons are placed kept on moving up and down so fast that I was unable to press any button. I was jumping, then bending, just to catch its movement and press the 16th floor! Or any floor for that matter!

History: Rumor has it that in our building, since only a few floors are being used at night, disturbed spirits are roaming the vacant floors. And sometimes these entities even manage to go to our busy floors. But the most terrifiying floor was the 12th floor, which is used as a foreign-language school during the day. They say the heat coming from that floor is caused by a number of entities that stay within.

I normally ignore these rumors but on that day, as scared as hell, the door of the elevator opened at the 12th floor! It was all dark, not even a light from the emergency stairs were on! And when it finally opened wide, I felt a big bump of heavy air crash to me! I screamed and screamed moving my hands and arms in a way as like preventing someone or something invisible from attacking me! Wake.

Writing this now even gives me the goosebumps! Coz after I composed myself when I woke up, I took a shower and saw on my arm a wound slashed to my skin and a black spot like that of a heavy object had hit me.

Tuesday morning (after the Monday night shift) - I dreamt I was piercing my own ear. I was facing a mirror but didn’t looked at my face, only at my ear. I was holding a shiny needle metal then as I closed my eyes, I penetrated the metal through my skin. I didn’t felt any pain. But strangely, I felt my cheek was compelled to move whenever I move the needle. When I opened my eyes I saw on the mirror that it has gone under my skin. It is indside my right cheek! calmly, I pulled the niddle slowly but it took some seconds for me to find out how long the niddle was. It was about 7 inches! But soon as I removed it from my skin, blood squirted out fast uncontrollably! Wake. I was aWaken by my own scream.

Wednesday - I intentionally came home late to prevent from falling asleep. Then I had a light sleep that lasted only less than 4 hours. So either I didn’t dream of anything or didn’t remember my dream when I woke up. Then went to work.

Thursday - I found myself in a yellowish house. Everything I see are in shades of yellow gold and brown. Then I realized I was holding a bottle of holy water. In front of me was a girl hanging from the ceiling. Half her body was stuck to the wall, half was on the ceiling. She was inverted in a way that her tangled long hair drifts almost over me. Her skin was pale, rotten and grotesque. Her white clothes soiled by mud, dirt and dried blood. She had an angry stare beaming to me, saliva dripping from her wide evil grin.

I then dashed her with the holy water, dashing non-stop while I was murmuring chants I am not familiar of. She screams and laughs like metal screeching by every drop of water to her skin, burning her and I smell rotten flesh oozing by the smoke. Suddenly she jumped to me! I felt her weight, felt her wet skin. She was so heavy, it was choking me. Wake.

I woke up sweating. The sun lighting my whole room. It was 4:00 in the afternoon. I never slept after that and waited for the time until I need to go to work.

Friday - I went to my colleague’s house after work. We talked about my strange dreams and let the time pass. I arrived home at around 2:00 thinking I won’t have to suffer those nightmares if I sleep short again.

I fell asleep thinking of not dreaming. Then I saw myself in my room with a bigger bed. Beside me was a male friend younger than me. He was asleep. By the floor I saw 2 other guys sleeping. Then one stood up, it was Mr. Bad News! He was calling me whispering that we should transfer to another room. I refused because I don’t want to wake up the others. And I saw that the other one sleeping beside him was My Moogie! Then he woke up and called to me. I followed him then we went to the other room while my arms wrapped around his right arm. Mr. Bad News got frustrated!

While Moogie and I were cuddling in a couch, Mr. Bad News suddenly burst out of my room! And tried to stab me! I saw his unspeakable empty stare that was all too familiar. His eyes darted to mine sending me chills to my spine! I felt my whole body numb and stiff. He tried to attack, but there were alot of people around. They all yelled and prevented him to move close to us. The mob blocked him and I was screaming with fright! Crying while my hands covered my face both from shame and sadness. Wake.

I woke up with tears in my eyes. I hugged my pillow so tight. Then I opened my radio and listened to the first CD I could get my hands on. I opened it real loud but I couldn’t hear the tune and the song. I just know that something was playing but I don’t understand. I was listening to emptiness while I stare to my blue ceiling until the sun has set.

Then I heard a knock to my door. It was time for me to get ready to go to work.

Weekend now just passed, and no nightmares yet. So far…

—–
photo credits: (in order of appearance)
+ “falling elevator” by Tsunami Notes
+ untitled by p.h.y
+ “crucified” by Confusedvision
+ untitled by Sasha Prince

There comes a time when books become our refuge to change one’s perception on an idea, or even, to the extreme, one’s perspective in life. Yes, there are books that entertain you but nonetheless leave you still where you were before reading it.

But there will always be that one book where it will touch you so deep you gotta have a copy of it, even if you already have read it. That book moved you so much you just gotta share it.

In almost the same time as I was reading the “Story of O”, by Pauline Réage [wiki], a colleague recommended “Eleven Minutes” by Paulo Coelho.

Knowing he is the author of that famous novel The Alchemist, made me not listen to this recommendation at first. But the mention of “yellow” as saying “lessen the pain” and “red” as saying “stop” indicated that indeed this novel is quite different from the popular ones the masses would easily bite into. A touch of sadism and sadomasochism gave a spice to a conventional love story. This made me not judge the book by its author’s popularity (which I am guilty of always doing).

Months have passed after I last heard of this controversial book. It was borrowed by another colleague who eventually ran away with her lover and left the company. The owner was on leave the day I found his book on his table, so I got it with no intention of bringing it home. I only planned on browsing through it, as I assumed it was just another novel to let me pass the time.

As another of my habit on judging a book, I always base the plot or the way of writing by the first paragraph. Yes, it is quite undignified to always read the first paragraph of a book before deciding to buy it or settle on spending time reading it. But that’s how I am. If the lines were boring, or badly written, or simply not my taste, I would close the book and move on. They say don’t judge a book by its cover. Well, the cover is simply not the thing that would make me look twice on even holding a book. The title of the book would play that role. I simply judge a book by its first paragraph.

Anyway, going back with this particular novel, the twist of a childish fairy-tale-hopeless-romantic-conventional first line with a modern fringe made me want to continue. So let me quote..

Once upon a time, there was a prostitute named Maria. Wait a minute, “once upon a time” is how all the best children’s stories begin and “prostitute” is a word for adults. How can I start a book with this apparent contradiction? But since at every moment of our lives, we all have one foot in a fairy tale and the other in the abyss, let’s keep that beginning. Once upon a time there was a prostitute named Maria…

Now that’s something that stirred my curiosity cup!

Actually, as I was reading in between the pages of this novel, I came across a part where the heroin in the story wrote in her diary about a pebble thrown by the lake. This entry inspired me to write a short story which I inevitable gave the title “The Pebble”. Although this is supposedly based on the novel, the lines are (let me say it) too personal for me to publish or even let anyone read. Maybe in time…

Or maybe in another blog? Hehe.. (now that I have to remind myself in making)

Anyway, let me just recommend this book to those who are actually looking for another way of releasing those tensions the unconventional way. The psychological mix of Maria as a prostitute, an innocent girl, a femme fatale, an understanding mother, a woman, as a dreamer and a realist, with the awareness that the author is non-female is thought-provoking. Men are no different from women. Women just tend to be more emotional and expressive. But we all have that common outlook in life (some simply either hide it or deny it) – finding the one who will perfectly love us despite our imperfections.

This book did not entirely change my outlook in life, but it somehow made me think that dreams only cater the unexplainable. And in reality, a miracle is having one happy day of realizing our dream. It’s just a matter of seeing, feeling and accepting what life has to offer.

—–
photo credit: “DOMINATION” by maldonadophoto.com

I just saw a movie last Saturday night, about a revolutionist from Ireland, Michael Collins. Sadly, I wasn’t able to finish the film on HBO because of my remote control that suddenly controlled me!

Anyway, a quote from that film still moves me, “the best way to beat England is to ignore their power” (ok, not so sure about the exact words, maybe something like that). But the point in this line is “resistance”

I still can’t get over the fact that the Director (at my work) scolded me about being too nice. Yes, that is a big disadvantage when working in the corporate world I guess. Being too nice will lead to abuse. Abuse of others who power-trip.

And so, my case was, last week a Supervisor told me to email the head of one department to clarify something about one of the projects I am handling at the moment. It seems that he was not satisfied with my answer that he needs to hear it himself from somebody from that department. First, he disregarded my authority, but I didn’t feel that way then.

Before I was to do this, I insisted that I need not email that Department Head because I already talked to him. Still, he insisted that it should be documented. Fortunately, or unfortunately, the Director, passed by. And so I informed him that Supervisor so and so told me to send this certain email.

To maybe avoid my embarrassment, the Director talked to me when he was back in his office. He told me that I should know and be firm with my position… That I am not under any supervisor; that I don’t and should not take orders from them; that I go straight to him and should consult things with him first before making any steps. I should know when to decide and the decision should not come from any supervisor.

Maybe I am too nice indeed. But I was only avoiding being labeled as “bossy” again. Because I know I am not. The people under me by all means can call me bossy IF I feel I am one.

And now that Supervisor so and so is handling the same department I am in, he turned out to be 10X more bossy than I am. So I left those who previously labeled me under him. Now they suffer more.. they have seen what “Bossy” really meant.

The problem now is I am hearing complaints even down from the agents. And my heart goes to them because it was not that long ago since I used to be an agent too. So I know how they feel, more than those Sups and Leaders who’s been in their position for years.

Resistance. Ignore the power-tripper. This is where I stand. And I would only do things for the interest of the project and the agents.

I just hope the Director would clear out to the Supervisors as well, that I am not under them. That all concerns I would only address to the Director. And that’s that.

And to sum it up, the only thing that can control me is my TV remote control. Hehe.. CLICK! [x]

  Exactly a year ago was the last comment posted on an entry I wrote entitled “…being single sucks” well, well, a year have passed now, and do I have an answer to that? So, does it? Or does it not?

Strangely, I wrote it in significance of the date I posted it at Twisted. [note that everytime I mention “Twisted” meant its my other blog, ok. pls refer to the links at the side] BUt that day have passed this year without me even noticing it. Well, that’s a good sign actually. Er, not for a memory gap tho, but for the fact that I have totally recovered from a grief that have surpassed my life.

Yes, I am getting mellow-dramtic here. It’s just that time of year where one realizes that after the passing of another year, when reflecting to what have happened in recent years, the question also lingers… what have I done with my life?

Hmm.. maybe this is what they call birthday blues.

Or yet, maybe, I just lack some sleep! I’ve been having insomnia attacks for the past few days now. To define, it’s different from what I call “the velvet syndrome” where one experiences the cross between having a panic-attack and laziness. (ok, now imagine how is that - i leave it to your own disgression)

The insomnia attacks I’m having, I noticed, are those times where I only have 2-3 hours of sleep a day and manages to survive throughout the night.. making about 200-300 calls per night, meaning 8 hours shift. And for the last 2 days, we even have overtime for 2 hours each day. So, a total of 10 hours calling non-stop, except for breaks, and short briefings. ANd even if it’s suppose to be a non-working Holiday on monday (US Labor Day), we have overtime on Saturday night, technically, just an offset of said day.. Tsk! I even have 2 colleagues who literally got sick. As in fever and extreme headaches! And it’s a miracle that I don’t feel any changes in my physical stability. Oha! Maybe, it’s gonna attack my mind! See, I think this post is getting further from my topic in the beginning… and I hope I’m still making sense here.

I’m waiting for my eyes to fall.. for my head to fall… to feel dizzy.. but none! And it’s already 4:30 in the afternoon, and I’ve been awake for almost 24 hours now. again!

My colleague who is taking up Law while working, is openly stating how envious she is with my insomnia. Well, I tell her she shouldn’t wish for it! Funny tho, that given that I’m having these lack of sleep, my eyes do not have eyebugs like that of most of my colleagues (who even manages to sleep 5-6 hours a day). Gee, imagine how some go home looking like zombies! Well, that’s what you get for working at graveyard shifts… It’s not called “graveyard” for nothing. Ha!

Life is like that here in Manila! Everything is so fast-paced. ONe minute your studying a project, the next you’re rusing for deadlines! And however often we tell ourselves that “there is life outside the workplace”, it just so happens that most of the time, the life outside would only be for sleep. Maybe that’s what my mind and body rejects and manifests to unaccept, making me have these insomnia attacks. (Gee, I should be a psychologist)

Anyway, to wrap up what I need to say, I came across this thought today…

The times they are a changing, as Bob Dylan says. You just need to wait a bit longer. In the end, it doesn’t matter how long (or fast) it took to get there, only that you arrived! But the question is, Where do you wanna go?

That, my dear readers, is what we should determine if not now, soon.

—
note: photo credit- Broken Wires 3 by iGrrl

Today I came home past 5am. A few hours after the end of shift. I mentioned in a former post [read here] how my work, colleagues and the over-all ambiance of my work was so fun.. but today, a bad news slightly shook us, well half of us that is.

Due to our new campaign (or project), the floor was basically divided to two groups, to form a friendly competitive feel intended to add up our production for a day. We were having fun during calling, however difficult others see it, for one, I am with the group with the higher number of complete calls. But aside from that, some of us played a game to wake the sleepy and the bored, diverting our slowly-turning-to-zombie minds a.k.a. “compulsory-insomnia” from listening to voice mail boxes and disconnected lines.

When somebody whispers “this means war” it meant, somebody threw the first pencil eraser or a small rolled up pinch-size of paper. We had invented a war game! hehe… sneaking up miniature cannon balls over the cubes of callers. Unsuspecting or anticipating it, hitting the face, the forehead, or on cross-eyed throws: hitting nothing but the table or the floor! ha! at least it was an ice-breaker. And when someone completed a call we all threw him our “cannon balls”. It’s all against each other! Soldier against soldier! ha!! (well, ok, only about 5 of us from the same group) And on the first day, a couple of hours before the end of shift, 2 from the other group joined in. It was like this for only a few days til now. Yeah, so “high school” huh. And when it’s break time, we call it a “ceasefire”.

And yep, we know there are cameras looming over us, who cares! we have more complete calls, there is nothing to protest about. And one would only do it if he is sleepy or sees another who is.

But today, one ’soldier’ met his contract’s end. He didn’t pass the final evaluation and after 6 months with us, he didn’t become a regular employee.

He was a good man. He was helpful and a friend you can really count on, even outside the office. A foolish-romantic but loyal, both to his girl, and to his friends. Too bad for the company I know they just lost a good caller. But not too bad for him, for it opens new doors for opportunity, maybe he’ll even get that music break he always wanted! Who knows!

“One man down, a good soldier out”

But here is a salute to his integrity as a friend, a colleague and a soldier.
Goodbye Brother! We will miss you and your crazy cool antics!

And a few days from now, a new batch of colleagues will have their evaluation. I wish them the best!

—
note: during my absence in the blogsphere, I too underwent that evaluation, and luckily, I passed. So here I am, assured to have no nights at home except on weekends. (meaning no free internet connection after midnight - sniif especially now that my moogie*.* is back at his homebase) Oh well, at least I got a raise! Tho still, I’d rather talk to him. OK, now that’s another story.

A poem I posted on January 08, 2005 while I was listening to the albums The Madcap Laughs, Opel and Barrett, when I was in my dark-sided days, when I was half the way down, Soaring with Syd Barrett came to mind today. Then I remembered, yeah, it is exactly a month since his death.

It’s a habit of me to bring out old records to soothe my agony, as I remember those days when I used to light up some doobey and lock myself in my room. It used to feel like I could stay there in my room for all eternity, but then again after the kick wares out, I realize that it’s only been a day or two. Anyway, that remote feeling of peace, happiness and tranquility (although temporary), without minding and laughing at the mess of my room, my mind flying into deep unknowns, floating with music, laughing more, write, write, paint draw and write some more then laugh at it all… somewhat causes different trips depending on mood… oh, well, but I was not into other trips than that. Ok, sometimes eating too much like there is no tomorrow.. heh!

They said those who were hooked with Pink Floyd was once hooked with doobey too. That’s judgmental. But hey, do I know anyone who wasn’t? But unlike LSD, or acid, that was a once-legal pharmaceutical, it causes euphoria, flights of almost tangible fancy, hallucinations, and on the downside, somewhat depressing and harrowing trips. And according to Of Syd Barrett, Psychedelia and Psilocybin, “…By 1966, the drug had been criminalized as it was by then the party favor of choice for hippy kids and swingers of all stripes, including Barrett. Barrett became an acid casualty. A man so consumed by the inward journey the drugs led him on that he soon became unable to function in his role as bandleader and songwriter for Pink Floyd…”

The article was fairly well written, but in protest to just these particular statement about Syd, I found the interview of Syd’s sister, Rosemary, in her first interview for 30 years.

The ‘crazy diamond’ founder of Pink Floyd was no acid casualty or recluse. He loved art and DIY, his sister Rosemary tells his biographer Tim Willis… [read the rest of the article]

Another interview that I recall reading years back was with Ian Barrett, the 22 year old nephew of ‘Syd’ (well that was in 2000). It was reproduced on the Dolly Rocker web site.

Art of Syd Barrett. And I’m pretty sure there is more artwork that he has done which is currently hidden from the public. And I am definite that someday, even his art will be well known.

Surfing I found links photos, and even vids of him, and Pink Floyd (none for live performance tho) Here is Spirits of a Generation - a show about Nick Drake and Pink Floyd Documentary.

Photos of him are of course, part of information and a fan’s collection. But I still think that taking stolen shots of a person preferring to live in anonymity is still a violation upon a person. I found collected photos of him in recent years here, with a mix of stolen shots and news articles, even photos of his house: [neptune pink floyd gallery]

A question tho, also found in neptune’s site, at first glance, I thought they didn’t mention who she was in this Mick Rock Garden Session… but she definitely looked Asian to me…

… But then, I saw a photo note that it was either Mick Rock’s girlfriend or wife. hmm… And I almost thought it’s another unpopular Lennon-Ono pair. Ok, I’m not on dope here… heh!

My cd just coincidently currently plays the outtakes, bonus tracks from Madcap Laughs, that’s why… Yes I’m thiiii-iiii-iiin-king of this yes I am… hold you tiii-iiiiight you’re so close yes you are please hold on to the steel rail… he isn’t love on sunday’s mail… Did I wiiii-iiii-iiiinking of this I am, yum yummy yam dope yummy yhum yam yum hah! love that voice and humor!

But his shift from humor and wit, to deep lyrics, sincere, dark and melancholic adding the melodies of his guitar, creates a hero in disguise. Words to hang on to who seemed to understand what you’re going through and takes you to a ride to flee from it all, and remain in wanderment. In a way, Syd and his music was a friend, a guardian who helped me hang on, trip, cry and laugh out your madness and miseries away. This will never reach him, but THANK YOU SYD! You will always be remembered… and you shall continue to shine on, you crazy diamond!

If Nick Drake’s sister, Gabrielle said “I personally prefer to think Nick committed suicide, in the sense that I’d rather he died because he wanted to end it than it to be the result of a tragic mistake. That would seem to me to be terrible: for it to be a plea for help that nobody hears.”

So too do I think that for Syd Barrett.

—–
more links:
The Syd Barrett Archives
Pink Floyd Official Site
BBC News: Syd Barrett dies age 60
Collected links: Look At This

related site:
official site for Nick Drake

  

Yes, i am late again.. but no! not at work…

But being online!

Gee… with the new schedule that we have, basing on US-Central Time, it’s nearly impossible to go online! unless I don’t sleep at all! sniiifff… and I miss My Moogie *.* sooooooo MUCH!

Updates with my walking life… I gave up installing the Nano ipod that will leave my hands in a week’s time… (more details on that later) And yep, I did have my digital cam fixed… but ahhh.. why is time so short these days!?? I don’t even have a contribution for Illustration Friday! And grrr.. grr… my obsolete mobile phone is running crazy! ever 4 seconds it shows “please insert SIM card” then after 4 seconds again power’s ok.. then after 4 seconds again it says i dont have my sim card in.. and all numbers in my phonebook is gone! ahhhh… whatta week of bad luck!

Now it’s raining outside.. I might get late now (this time for work) and I havent even heard the horny frogs yet! lol!

see yah…

—
photo credit: c.crane (hmm.. why do they call it “atomic” btw?)

current music: Hugo Largo - Drum (listen to a track 6, “Country“. Tho pls info me if the link doesnt work or give a free download)

“Mimi’s voice conjures up a long plummet through white light and space. It’s like a parachutist still in free fall, who seems briefly weightless and adrift in an ocean of air.” -Melody Maker

The first song that I heard from Hugo Largo was “Fancy” - their cover of the Kink’s classic. But that time I didnt knew it was a cover. Her ethereal and dark mood caught my attention, adding the simple yet mysterious lyrics. Up until now, the last line haunts me. “No one can penetrate me, They only see what’s in their own fancy, always.” The first time it struct me, it conveys exactly how I feel. And this lived to become my motto. (Read the full lyrics here)

---

I feel this is going to be a long post.

The thing is, one would know if I am not in my best mood, when I listen to Hugo Largo on repeat mode.. It just soothes me to listen to music that reflects how I feel, that I wont stop until I felt better. And yes, I just have to admit I was listening to this half the night, while waiting to talk to someone *.* online. I must say, that after that I felt so much better. And the remainder of the night turned out to be wonderful after all.

Today, well, technically, yesterday, I was suppose to go to three places. First, an out-of-town weekend with my family, second, watch a local play, and third go to a night swimming party hosted by one of my colleagues.

My colleague is leaving the company and that is like her farewell party. Too bad I wasnt there. And too bad I didnt know her that long. She’s one of the funniest sweetest girl at work. And could have been a good mentor too. I saw her cry when saying goodbye to some colleagues last friday. It was her last day, and the office can’t change her mind to stay. Last week also, another veteran called tendered her resignation. She was a bit close to me. And shared some little secrets with me too. We were all surprised at her sudden plan. But, let’s just say, when people move on to better opportunities, and greener pastures, nobody has the right to prevent nor stop it.

Since I had my present job, I almost can’t imagine that I used to be depressed. I was busy all the time, both on or offline, I was enhancing my potentials that I didnt notice I had before, and when I come home I have no time to think into emptiness coz after playing with Irvine, I’m so tired, I immediately fall asleep soon as my back touches the softness of my bed.

But today, despite all my plans, call it sheer (bad) luck, my friend who planned to take me to that play, wasn’t able to buy tickets. I said I’d follow my family to the hotel where they’d stay ‘coz I was going to the swim party. But eh, plans didnt push thru coz I wasnt able to wake up on time. I got left by the rented van and nobody strangely replied to my sms’s.

I wasnt able to eat dinner on time and I’m just lazy to cook for myself. So I called several pizza shops to order food for delivery. But strangely, none of them is open past 11 pm. So settled on burgers. I managed to call one but the minimum price for delivery was too much for one meal so I needed to add more just to reach it. So I ordered bacon cheezeburger melt, baked potato with beefy cheese, a veggie salad and coke-in-can.

Past midnight a surprise came. Remember that friendster friend? I heard a knock on my gate that almost scared me, thought it was a ghost. Well, a ghost from the past indeed. He was there, and a car behind him. Apparently, he was with 3 friends but they insisted on staying in the car. He just said he’d like to drop by say hi and just give me a Blueberry cheezecake and greentea yogurt freeze. Woah my faves! He still remembered… But, his visit was so sudden that I didnt know if I should be glad on seeing him or should close the door on him. But for good gesture, I let him in. He just stayed for 5 minutes (or less). Asked how I was, where I’m working, told a little about where he is now. Then asked me if I was happy with my life. I said yes, but with a doubtful tone. Not because I was doubting my answer but because I was wondering why he asked me that. But he was really on a hurry and just wanted to give the cake to me. I asked what the occasion was, he said “nothing” just add him to my friends at friendster. Pff! He asked to take one pic of me with him, on his mobile, I got paranoid. But ok, nothing’s wrong with a pic I thought. I wanted to ask, Did you make a dare with your friends? Coz you smell like you drank. but I just kept silent. Then he left and promised to visit me again. I didnt know what to say, but just thank him for the gift. I felt I got that confused troubled look on my face.

Soon as he left, I called the burger shop coz its almost 2 hours and nobody came yet. They apologized, said my location was out of their service area, so I should wait. Then the delivery man called. He got lost and asked for landmarks near my place. After some minutes he arrived. I paid him then went inside. Some neighbors were strangely on the street (I never noticed them out this late before). My paranoia level went up some more. Were they wondering who just visited me with the noisy boom boom car? And why that time and that short? And why is he wearing shades? At night? And what’s up with delivery at past midnight? Well, some neighbors can start stories you know. But that didnt worry me much.

The thing is, who’s gonna eat all these food? And much cheese I realized too. I changed the cd on my player from Slowdive to Fieldmice. Took one bite from the baked potato, sipped my greentea halfway. Then lost appetite. Sat on the floor, looked into emptiness. And listened… “To her decision, she’s gone, she have decided to leave, if someone were to ask me, I’d say its remarkable, that she has stayed this long…” (from Landmark) Then I started to cry. Suddenly, I felt so alone. Looking at all these food, feeling the silence of the house, staring at my pc (wasn’t open that time), listening to Fieldmice.

Why am I crying? I don’t know. It was a burst of feelings from deep inside. I realized how superficial things are. People come and go. And not all expectations can be met. I dunno it was like a bolt of thoughts raced in my mind. What have I done for the past nine years? What am I doing? Where am I heading? And am I truly happy?

I stopped to think. I didnt answer my own questions. I just stared into the space between me and the wall. And tears continually flow slowly from my eyes til it was almost swollen. “Another late night back from the other side of the world, it’s been a long long day… I want to go see her and tell her what I’ve done.. thinking are we, are we passing up something we, something we should know. This friendship is, this friendship is, forever and ever.. and to break it up not ever, break it up not ever.” (from Star of David) I stopped the player after that song. My eyes searched the room.. for nothing in particular. Then I switched cds again. This time, I played Hugo Largo. I stopped crying after the 3rd song, Fancy. Then I continued to eat the baked potato and opened my pc. He wasnt there yet. So I waited… and waited… and willing to wait some more… I will wait til you come…

Then he came. And all turned out better now. It was just a lapse, a slight slide from my focus. Or was this bizarre day just pointing to one direction still? Despite all things passing by, only proves who I know would stay. And who I know sees what’s on my mind; what’s in me.

So, yes, no one can penetrate me, they only see what’s in their own fancy… but not anymore.

—
music notes: Whatever happened to Hugo Largo and Mimi Goese? Read here>>
Where is The Field Mice? Read their story at shinkansen. Or a review of their reissues

  
Still do not know what the outcome of my letter would be. (See previous post) And still do not know what to paint for the longest painting.

And last night, my brother went to my office to give me my mobile phone which I left at home (no use of it anyway~phones off on the floor) And to ask me where I placed the digital cam. I totally lost track of the date and what’s happening that I forgot today was the flight of my sister to the US. Geesh! that’s what you get for having night shifts and sleeping all day! I wasn’t even able to hug her and wish her a safe journey and happy trip! Pff…

And now to add a little spice to my trouble at work - 1) while my brother was on the floor (do not know if visitors are allowed up to “our” floor), 2) I was talking to my dad on the mobile phone and 3) I was speaking in Tagalog! (And we have an “All English Policy” at work!) My non-Tagalog speaking American Boss passed by! A triple oh my.. oh my.. OMG!

He passed by without warning and I didnt know if I should turn off the phone, throw it to my brother or to the front desk attendant or on the floor. Or close it pretend to rub my ears and abruptly speak in English and tell my brother to act as a “gay” (so as not to misinterpret that he is my boyfriend visiting in the middle of the night - gee it was 3am! who would visit at that time?!)

Yikes! No feedback yet but hmm.. looking forward to a pleasant, yes - pleasant, Monday!

I just hope my boss do not know my name, didnt remember my face or got hit in the head and had selective amnesia and totally forgot what happened over the weekend!

hihi.

Chiao! gotta dive in to bed now…

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photo credit: “Cross my fingers” by digitallove

The Horror:
10 days of heavy rains;
375 homes had disappeared;
nearly 100 acres of land covered;
50 feet of mud burried all houses, a school, and residents alive;
250 pupils and teachers were at the school when this happened;
only 1 child and 1 adult found nearby;
83 people have been found alive;
19 have been found dead;
estimated 200 dead and 1,500 - 2,000 missing…

2 other villages affected;
3,000 evacuees huddled at a municipality hall;
11 villages in Leyte evacuated due to landslide concerns…

Now, mud covered all the houses that once stood in Guinsaugon, in the town of St Bernard on the island of Leyte, Southern part of the Philippines.

Greenpeace said illegal logging may prove to have contributed to the mudslide. Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies blamed a combination of the weather and the type of trees prevalent in the area.

Read about them:
- Philippines Landslide Deaths May Top 1,500
- Mud wipes out Philippines village
- Mudslide traps kids in school

Local News:
- ‘We’re alive, dig us out’
- In buried school, desperate text messages — then silence

Photos:
In pictures: Philippines mudslide

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Sometimes, I feel I am lucky that I don’t live near/at places as these, nor know anyone who lived there. But I feel for them, as they are as well my brothers and sisters…

Prayers are not the only thing they need right now, also Help!

Please Donate for the Leyte mudslide victims:
- Red Cross Red Crescent | RedCross.ph
- Donate (contribute to: Disaster Relief Emergency Fund)