About Me
- Name: wanggo
- Location: Philippines
I'm one of the many modern, everyday gods trying to re-ascend into the heavens...
Links
- Indulgence
- Watching Things Burn
- The Proudest Monkey
- The Prothiaden Adventure
- Soloflite
- Uncharted Waters
- The World Through Chinky Eyes
- I Like It Here
- Kage's Travel Blog
- Risk It All
- Dating Kundiman (a bookshop)
- Candid Moments of Lucidity
- Calamansi (Cat's Blog)
- The World Is My Playground
- Den of Iniquity
Archives
- 11/01/2003 - 12/01/2003
- 12/01/2003 - 01/01/2004
- 01/01/2004 - 02/01/2004
- 02/01/2004 - 03/01/2004
- 03/01/2004 - 04/01/2004
- 04/01/2004 - 05/01/2004
- 05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004
- 06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004
- 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004
- 08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004
- 09/01/2004 - 10/01/2004
- 10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004
- 11/01/2004 - 12/01/2004
- 12/01/2004 - 01/01/2005
- 01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005
- 02/01/2005 - 03/01/2005
- 03/01/2005 - 04/01/2005
"I think it's gonna be a long, long time, `till touchdown brings me round again to find, I'm not the man they think I am at home... I'm a rocketman, burning out his fuel out here alone..." Rocketman by Elton John and Bernie Taupin.
Thursday, January 08, 2004
Somethings I do not want to forget:
Texted to me by Kate (01-02-04):
Buddha says: "In the end, only three things matter - how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of the things not meant for you."
Texted to me by Datu (and others) (01-01-04):
To kinder gods and fiercer loves, to brief jealousies and even shorter griefs, to wine, to coffee, to sunsets and full moons, two family, friends and country. Happy New Year!
Texted to me by Morx (01-08-04):
The more I work, the more I see things differently, that is, everything gains in grandeur every day, becomes more and more unknown, more and more beautiful. The closer I come, the grander it is, the more remote it is. -- Giacometti
Texted to me by Morx (12-30-04):
"...O never to get, nor have// got there. To thirst gothically, to want --/ like a spire: no discernible object but more sky." from a poem by Carl Phillips
Texted to me by Morx (12-08-04):
Bless them, those things. There the furnitures, forks, and food. There foam, sunlight and sand. Things knowing not hearbreak, not endurance, but endures still. They standing ceremoniously, despondent and brightly, the loss of you. I don't know how they're built. Bless them. I myself am nowhere near.
I always find myself surrounded by beautiful things and people. But these are not things that I feel I attract. These are the things I searched for. I sought them out or make them up when needed. These are things I want around me at all times - beauty and the sublime.
I feel that I attract misery, hunger and weakness. I think this because I have the quality to make people feel better about themselves. I contradict the feelings of low-ness, if there is such a thing. My eyes pierce the veil of depression, the ugliness and the bitterness, to see what is beautiful inside. Or I can always make a lie sound so beautiful and so truthful. I can make it up from what I see and make it sound honest and sincere.
But these are not the things I want. No, I want what is beautiful. I want words to flow smoothly into my life. I want the food to always taste good and the people to always seem pleasant and happy.
But we do not choose these things. We cannot will it to happen. We can only take a step forward and push and pull and hope that at the end of the line is that which we have been seeking since we've begun to make the effort.
Texted to me by Kate (01-02-04):
Buddha says: "In the end, only three things matter - how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of the things not meant for you."
Texted to me by Datu (and others) (01-01-04):
To kinder gods and fiercer loves, to brief jealousies and even shorter griefs, to wine, to coffee, to sunsets and full moons, two family, friends and country. Happy New Year!
Texted to me by Morx (01-08-04):
The more I work, the more I see things differently, that is, everything gains in grandeur every day, becomes more and more unknown, more and more beautiful. The closer I come, the grander it is, the more remote it is. -- Giacometti
Texted to me by Morx (12-30-04):
"...O never to get, nor have// got there. To thirst gothically, to want --/ like a spire: no discernible object but more sky." from a poem by Carl Phillips
Texted to me by Morx (12-08-04):
Bless them, those things. There the furnitures, forks, and food. There foam, sunlight and sand. Things knowing not hearbreak, not endurance, but endures still. They standing ceremoniously, despondent and brightly, the loss of you. I don't know how they're built. Bless them. I myself am nowhere near.
I always find myself surrounded by beautiful things and people. But these are not things that I feel I attract. These are the things I searched for. I sought them out or make them up when needed. These are things I want around me at all times - beauty and the sublime.
I feel that I attract misery, hunger and weakness. I think this because I have the quality to make people feel better about themselves. I contradict the feelings of low-ness, if there is such a thing. My eyes pierce the veil of depression, the ugliness and the bitterness, to see what is beautiful inside. Or I can always make a lie sound so beautiful and so truthful. I can make it up from what I see and make it sound honest and sincere.
But these are not the things I want. No, I want what is beautiful. I want words to flow smoothly into my life. I want the food to always taste good and the people to always seem pleasant and happy.
But we do not choose these things. We cannot will it to happen. We can only take a step forward and push and pull and hope that at the end of the line is that which we have been seeking since we've begun to make the effort.
