The Flight of the Rocketman

I want something to believe in
When it all comes crashing down
Re-make the world no pain, no violence
Turn up the volume till there's total silence

I want what I want, I want it now
I feel what I feel, don't bring me down
-- I Want What I Want, Tata Young (written by Lauren Christy and Charlie Midnight)

People always use the metaphor of a violent, disturbing car accident for certain things -- particularly bad movies, certain people or situations. It's one of those things you are disgusted to see because of the blood and the wreckage but at the same time your eyes are locked into place and you can't turn away. You just have to slow down and watch.

They say that one of the reasons you cannot look away is because you are so glad it isn't you there. That you keep looking to ensure it isn't you or, to a smaller degree, anyone you know. Sometimes, you are drawn to the chaotic physics of the situation. Broken car, shattered glass, hindrance to the flow of traffics, maybe even blood and entrails scattered over the road; if you are a lucky, maybe a body in the middle of the streets -- things that occupy the recipe for chaos. And it is chaos.

And whatever you can say about chaos, you can be certain of one thing: chaos is truly lovely to behold. Chaos, after all, is not just disorder. It is also "random-ness" or "chance." Chaos is irrational, entropy, confusion.

And it is beauty. It is the unpredictable, that unseen variable that makes things take unexpected twists. It bends the road and then forks it. Do you go left or right? Do you go straight on ahead, even when there's no more path?

I try to make no more plans. Chaos, as beautiful as it maybe, has ruined all my plans so far and I find myself in strange, though quite comforting, shores... I think I can be happy and content where I am. I can definitely adjust and eventually thrive. It is in my nature, so I was told...

But I'll play everything by ear. Because this world is in chaos. There's no point in making any definite plans. Everything changes anyway. Have a destination - don't plan a route; just make sure you put one foot forward and keep going until you reach your destination. They say that the journey is what matters most, not the destination. If that's the case, then don't plan the route. Let your feet be your guide and let your feet be guided by your heart...

I want to be naked running through the streets
I want to invite this so-called chaos that you think I dare not be
I want to be weightless flying through the air
I want to drop all these limitations but the shoes upon my feet
-- So-Called Chaos, Alanis Morissette

Wow! It's been an Alanis week, huh? Tough rock-chic music just gets me through the days. When work piles up, and I've been running through the seconds with three things on my mind, one goal in the oven baking and a heart that refuses to remember past hurts; it's just great to be able to come home and listen to Alanis singing "You live, you learn" or Sheryl Crow bursting out "You don't bring me anything but down."

Other people who've been helping me out? Skunk Anansie, Beth Orton, Chantal Kreviazuk, Pink, Sarah McLachlan and Fiona Apple. Once in a while (when I think no one can hear) I play a little Norah Jones because all that anger and angst can just be a drag sometimes.

I've been nothing but work these past few days. Opportunities come all at once, flood or famine. I never get the in-between. I am never given a chance to breathe, no lee way. It's either I learn to swim in the floods that come or search for a drink in the droughts that strike. Lightning never hits the same place twice, they say. So I will swim now. I'll let go of all the little things on the side; let's allow ourselves to be overwhelmed during these moments.

I'm just glad that I can still go to the gym as often as I do. I go almost everyday and I'm glad for that. But while the changes are getting a little more apparent everyday, my stomach refuses to trim down. I can feel the hardness underneath; but I feel the years of alcohol has yet to subside. I've already pretty much given up drinking. I am just scared to enter a diet. I can't. I love food. Food is a metaphor for living. I have reduced respect for people who are picky and choosy over their food.

I've always believed that you can just burn off whatever you've eaten and I have to believe in that. Because if I like the food, I will help myself to 4 servings. Fuck the calories! Give me pleasure in my taste buds. I want the cosmic taste electricity coursing through my tongue! Let it play a fucking fiesta in my mouth! I love food. I don't want to give it up...

I want to be big and let go of this grudge that's grown old
All this time I've not known how to rest this bygone
I want to be soft and resolved and clean of slate and released
I want to forgive for the both of us
-- This Grudge, Alanis Morissette

I'm in a better mood now. I hope this stays for long. But I've always been in a good mood when certain things go my way. And I may still feel a bit unloved and betrayed and hurt. But I've got tons of work; it's an appreciation that cannot be substituted by love or affection. After all, isn't that expected from those who love you? But by people who don't and they ask for you, want to work with you and want to hear your ideas, your opinions; that is an appreciation that cannot be taken away.

I'm a busy bee at work. If that is where I should find my worth; then that's where I shall begin the excavation.

but this won't work now the way it oncedid
and i won't keep it up even though i would love to
once i know who i'm not then i'll know who i am
but i know i won't keep on playing the victim
-- Precious Illusions by Alanis Morissette

Yesterday, work just crumbled apart again because my producers and my host just do not get along anymore. Well, I spent most of my day finishing up little details that needed tying together. Loose ends, so to speak. One of them included going to our segment host and giving him the last of the checks we owe him. He was released from the show because he didn't jive. In my opinion, he could have saved it. His humour and crazy antics were just so much fun to watch.

We caught up, having not seen each other in a while and then, just talking, telling him about how I maybe going to Shanghai next year, I wasn't sure. He was pretty excited for me. Then he told me I should go to New York. He said I could make it there. He said I have what it takes to make it there. He called me a "survivor."

Strangely enough, that was the first of two people who said that about me and seventh of nine people who said that about me this whole week.

Everyone believes I'm this survivor. Everyone believes that I can make it. Actually, it is my own press release to people. After my traumatic experiences (which everyone knows about because I'm such a drama queen), people ask me if I'm going to be okay. I always respond with, "of course, I always am. I'm the get-down-get-up-again guy!"

And it's true, really. I'm always brought down and find myself back up again, trying and trying...

and any talk of healthiness
and any talk of connectedness
and any talk of resolving this
leaves you running for the door

why why do i try to love you
try to love you when you really don't want me to
-- Narcissus by Alanis Morissette

Surprisingly enough, my friend also said something. He asked if I was okay and then asked about failed relationships. I told him, "yeah, I was coming from two that never really took off..." He looked at me, grimaced in sympathy, feeling my pain. He looked at me in the eye. He knew. He said, "Wanggo, don't close your heart. You'll probably try to but don't close it. Leave it open. I'm telling you, one day, pretty soon, someone is going to want to come in."

I'm just tired of all the comings and goings. I can't really catch up. Sometimes, I wonder if being honest about how I feel about things and persons is really admirable and worth it. And should I even bother when, in the end, I'm left with no one and nothing.

I get left behind. I'm abandoned and exiled by the people I am in love with. Is being honest about how I feel really important? My good friend Jaypee told me, play a little. Don't show them how you feel. Make them run to you.

Will it work? The question, I guess, I'm so afraid of asking is, will they run after me? Is that why I throw myself at these people? Because I'm afraid that if I don't, they won't even bother to come near me. Jaypee said to me, "Wanggo, you really are so insecure, it's getting in the way you deal with people."

It's probably true. Do I start playing now? I don't like playing games? I don't want to. But is this how you get a partner? Who knows, really?

I just don't want to chase anyone anymore. Too much effort. I'll only give you the time of a day if you go to me. Make the effort, let me see. Then maybe I'll glance at you. And of course, you got to be of my standards, or don't even bother...

but this won't work as the way it once did
cuz i want to decide between survival and bliss
and though i know who i'm not
i still don't know who i am
but i know i won't keep on playing the victim
-- Precious Illusion by Alanis Morissette

And in her struggle to be free
In the false trails of the resurrection
The horse of the half moon dies
Trying to find you
For she cannot love anymore
-- Strength from "The Prayer Cycles" by Jonathan Elias

Maybe it is better for me to live without love and just go on. Despite the pressure of loneliness and the deep need to connect with only one person constantly; maybe I should just be some "lone wolf" or worse "child of the world." Maybe to love is only to allow hurt. Maybe this is not for me. Maybe my strengths has always been in working. Maybe I'm only allowed friendship.

Uh-oh! Wanggo is talking about love again...

And I would've been depressed if not for certain little things coming my way. Thank God for patience and perservearance (God knows if I spelled it correctly, too tired to check it out). Spending my free hours in the gym, since I haven't begun on "Diagnosis" yet. While I'm in-between books, we pump the muscles in our body rather than the brain. Right now, my body has become an instrument, part of my work. Got a work on it and make it work for me as well.

The rest of my time has been spent looking at what I'll need for my new place. The downpayment has been paid, the place is cleaned. I just have to move now. It's a lot harder than I first thought...

My soul will surrender
And give in to grace
-- Hope from "The Prayer Cycles" by Jonathan Elias

I'v reached a certain point of numbness... I am a straight line. No fluttering about. I'm incapable of grand emotion except depression and I refuse to go there. It's harder nowadays to be with people. I can only talk about my anger and my pain. And I don't want to be like that. I'm becoming a recluse. Closing in, becoming very picky with who I want to talk to.

Is this the point of honesty? Where nothing comes in except that which we really want? Everything else that is unnecessary is not sought out? Is this what they mean when we find ourselves in a state of grace? No longing, no rushed motion, no frills. Just fluidity...

How strange to find myself here. There is a listlessness in me. I'm not growing weaker, only my desire. My passion still flames but I would prefer to keep it inside. No need to burn others... I've discovered that they don't want to get burned by me. So there's no need to spread the flame.

With some Heaven
Between God and prayer
I watch
For here the light
No longer follows
-- Benediction from "The Prayer Cycles" by Jonathan Elias

I am all sentiment. There is no glory in sentiment. Glory only follows after action and passion. I've been changed. I've been struck dumb in the physicality but here, in the cerebral realm where thoughts and intentions matter; I am noisy, I am sound, I refuse to stop the vibrations... Feel the pulse of everything that was shattered, everthing that once was.

I am swimming in this. I cannot drown. I can breathe in water. I can breathe in light. There is no more love here until someone dares to stoke the fire. But until then, I swim alone, in the dark, cold waters of this thing that is not grace and it is not peace...

Love is a necessary intimacy, though what breaks
across velvet and rain and skin is only
a desiring, whose other name is pain.
-- xx, Only a Desiring (Christelle Mariano)

The hurt was inescapable. Twice in one week, almost twice in the span of 3 days. I felt like my heart was ready to explode. I swear, I could have died. It was so painful, I almost lost all control.

The first incident was in a mall and part of the pain was hiding it from plain sight. But I failed. People looked at me funny and were wondering "what is wrong with him?" But I saw someone I wish I didn't and the effect was unbearable pain. And I felt like crying and screaming and assaulting random people and objects.

The other time was in a party. And someone who made me feel special; someone I thought was special had appeared. I was already forewarned and I thought that I could handle it. But once the reality was there, in front of my face; I realised I had to get drunk in order to survive. If I was not drunk, I would have killed that person. I would've thrown a bottle still full just for full effect; forced a confrontation. I wanted to die. I wanted to hurt that person so badly.

Certain questions needs answering/certain things need being said:

(To the first person) Why did you ask me back as your friend if you aren't even going to try and be my friend? Why do you care? Why did you come back? Why do you waste your words on me? Leave me be. No matter how your beauty moves me; I need peace. I wish you would just tell me that I didn't matter and that you made a mistake. I wish you would tell me that I should just go and that it would be better if we thought we were strangers. Pretending nothing happened is easier when it's mutual.

(To the second person) I want to know if what we had was real and when you met my best friend, you dropped me for him; or was my best friend really the target from the very beginning and I fell for some stupid play? Was it so easy to drop me? Is he more important to you than I? Does he understand you like you said I do? Is it all lust and passion that you are after? Did you not lust after me? And how do you feel when you see me? Is there shame? Or is it just like seeing some old photograph? Did you even know how much you hurt me? Did you even know that I was destroyed? And did you care? Did you even think to apologise? Did you even think that I could hurt you? Did you even think that maybe I have ways and means to turn everything against you? Do you think I could do it? Do you think I'll do it?

How to chart the movements of longing, silent
as this? Where our breaths collide, we find
that language fiercer than burning.
-- vi, Only a Desiring (Michael Morco)

I'm several steps to disillusionment. I am several steps closer to the edge. I'm almost at the point of jadedness. I don't want to believe in love. I don't want to fall in love again. Every person I've fallen in love with has only served to frustrate me. Some have used me and the others have abused me. I wonder why. What is my karma that I attract these kinds of people, that I attract this kind of treatment?

I can hear groans again. "Wanggo is talking about love and desire and being hurt again..." Yes, I'm sorry but these things are important to me. I've put a great big emphasis on love and desire and passion. It moves me; it is fuel. And I've got none to burn. Only ambition remains - the fear of anonymity is keeping me busy; keeping me from sinking into oblivion.

I have been hurt. I've been used. I've begun to protect myself and the sad part is, one day, someone who will love me and take care of me will come and I won't be there to accept it. I'll be spiteful, hurtful and I will test this person's resolve. And this person may not want to be tested and may just leave. And I'll think that I was right all along... But I was wrong. I was just so afraid of getting hurt again.

To the two people who have hurt me so badly right now: how could you forget that you affect the people around you? And I told you how you affect me so. We were at a point of honesty and I told you and you both had no decency to let me go softly. You dropped me hard and I shattered. Thank your gods that I no longer cast spells and curses. Thank your gods I am not the kind of person who gets even.

And what burns must give in to fading, like
lightning drawing back into the sky, or stars
fallen, obscured by morning light.
-- xxi, Only a Desiring (January Velasco)

And I'm at a loss... No strength in my body except to find pleasure or pain. I want more pain to reach a point of numbness. I want to reach pleasure to reach a point of forgetting. And then, there will be those moments of closing in; of reflection - when one enters into him/herself and evaluates - and there will be only disgust.

I thought I was stronger than this. I had no idea that strength was a constant thing -- it must be constantly worked on. It is something that you switch on and then maintained. It is not some subconscious thing, that you just switch and then, you are invulnerable.

Maybe for others it is so. But it is not that way for me. I lose myself in my feelings. I take pride in feeling things deeply. Except now, it has almost killed me. It has definitely changed me. I wonder if I will recognise myself...

In the stillness, we grope for vestiges
of sparks gone from each other's eyes,
while the morning fills with unspoken reasons.
-- xiv, Only a Desiring (Wanggo Gallaga)

Post Script:
I've accidentally removed the comments portion of my blog when I changed the format. I thought that since I was undergoing so many changes, I thought that the things around me should alter in a similar manner. So I chose a new lay-out for my blog and then, in re-publishing it, I accidentally removed the comments portion and all the comments already in it... I'm such a stupid dunce!

Friends, please advice me on how to return it. Blog-users, there is a portion in the settings of the blog that says "comments" and I put it in "show" but I don't see it? What do I do? Help!

Are you in? -- Are You In, Incubus

Today, I used my checkbook for the first time. I wrote down my first check and now I have leased a studio condo under my name, with my money. I've taken the first steps to independence.

I'm frightened as all hell breaks lose in my head...

But I find myself in strange surroundings. The people I hang out with are not the same people I hung out with years before. The life I lead is so different now from what it was last decade. The changing times are so fast that sometimes I feel I can't catch up. It's as if I was reacting my whole life and right now, looking back, I can finally see what I've been leading my life up to.

I just hope it is worth it.

Finished reading "Geek Love" and I loved the book. Very powerful, very biting and sour and moving. The last part drove me to tears that it frightened the cab driver to no end. He was paranoid, probably thinking "Why the hell is this asshole crying? I'm sure he's so dizzy... Who's stupid enough to read in a moving car anyway?"

Well, I couldn't put it down. Sorry. And now, I can't wait, Alan Lightman's "Diagnosis" which looks every bit as interesting as "Einstein's Dreams."

Here I go again with my geeky, nerdy side. But in a way, it's a comfortable escape from the busy "workaholic wanggo" and the "party wanggo" and the decrepid and most hated "pathetic, loser wanggo" who keeps trying to rear his ugly head but I refuse to let him take over.

Geez! I just realised I sound like a barbie doll. I guess when you are having mood swings to the point where you can identify yourself according to your objective for that moment and the mood that you are in; you know something has got to be terribly wrong.

I'm sorry... But I want thrill and excitement. I want the unknown to bite me in the butt. I want loud bass lines, drum loops and synthesizers blasting away through the night and then, in one split second - utter silence. I refuse for things to be turned predictable. I don't think I can take that. More than anything in the world, don't take away the flavor...

To someone: I almost died seeing you the other day. Sometimes I keep forgetting that you are allowed to exist outside my reality. That, yes, you are allowed to be at public places and allowed to shop and do your own thing. You do not exist merely as a story element in my life... I don't know why I reacted the way I did - the loss of breath, the hard beating of my heart, the confusion and panic and fear. What is it really that turns me from inside out, head over heels, and floating in space without direction. What is it that you do that makes you so special?

Will you miss me when you go? I'm so used to not having you around, not hearing from you.

Why do somethings have to be just touch-and-go? Sometimes, they are the things that matter to you the most?

Better question: why do we always ask questions we know we will never know the answers to? This natural self-infliction of pain; this exercise in frustration. These unanswered questions that we cannot help but ask.

In the end, it only means you are alive and that you are living well -- feeling passionate about something, feeling so much that it hurts and that you can feel you can fly or burst or whatever. That's it, really. For me, that's the meaning of life -- sensations, be it bad or good. "I think therefore I am," said one philosopher. I'd like to rephrase that to something more suited to me - "I feel therefore I am."

I exist because I feel, I feel strongly about things. And I know that is what keeps me alive and what will keep me human.

How proud I am, dancing in the air full of eyes rubbing at me uncovered, unable to look away because of what I am. Those poor hoptoads behind me are silent. I've conquered them. They thought to use and shame me but I win out by nature, because a true freak cannot be made. A true freak must be born. -- Geek Love, Katherine Dunn

Tomorrow I vote. I vote for my country. I vote for myself. I've been to Shanghai and see how progressive the country is. My brother was in Bangkok for a couple of days and he saw how progressive it has become. We heard that Malaysia is progressive and that Vietnam has begun to show signs of growth. My country is being left behind. We don't seem to have the gumption to care enough to try and make things work. The people who can afford to run and make an impact are mostly thieves and rats and goons. It's just not fair. Many people who actually have ideals and would want to change the status quo, well, they can't afford the campaigning... Sad, how very sad...

My bosses are enjoying their vacation in Boracay and I'm here resting, enjoying the freedom of just being able to move on my own accord. To not have someone dictate to me what I should do and what I should be doing at that very moment. It drives me insane. I am a free-spirit. I hate it when people dictate what I should do, where I should go and how I should speak. I hate it. It's one of the reasons why I don't want to get into an office job. And all of a sudden, it's happening again. Maybe my boss has forgotten that I'm a free-lancer. Maybe my boss has forgotten that she doesn't pay me enough to work 24 hours a day, 7 days a week...

Wait! Stop! I don't want to go there... No complaining... I'm avoiding going into my regular blue funk period by not focusing on the things that pisses me off... I don't want to do that. I think I can pass that horrible period of depression by ignoring it. By trying to not let it affect me.

I've noticed that I've been spending a lot lately... Consumer therapy. When I start to feel bad, I start buying stuff. I have 2 new books (which are not disappointing me, thank God!), some CDs, really nice stuff... I would treat myself to nice lunches or dinners... I would drink a bit when I go out. Things like that. Consumer therapy. Spending money to make yourself feel better... Spending money to make you feel good. It's that feeling of superiority. That what you see, you can afford, you can acquire and you can make your own. It's that power that makes you feel better. And I've been needing to do that for some time. And it actually works. Sometimes, I forget that I'm having a downslump - that it is that time of the year when I get depressed.

I can't stand these mood swings. It's become routine, regular... seasonal. 3 months of depression, 1 month of pure joy and then back to 3 months of depression. It sucks. But sometimes I can cut short the depression period to 2 months and hold off the joy periods for a little longer... Like my happiness period lasted from last week of February to the 3rd week of April. That's pretty good, for me.

It's the way things go... It's the roll of the dice, the way the smoke rises in the air. There are things I cannot control and I will not bother with them. I will try my best not to think of them and not to bother with them. I won't focus on them so I can just live my life good and normal.

But there are some things I can change and that is why tomorrow I am going to vote. Because I complain about my country and if I complain, I have to be able to say I did something about it. If anything, voting is securing your right to complain.

And I have a lot of complaints...

This is not the time for secrets
Save your breath its time
for sex
with strangers
Its time
for sex
with strangers
-- Sex With Strangers, Marianne Faithful (written by Marianne Faithful and Beck Hansen)

That's it... The stage is set, all I need now is to choose a location and I'm gone. I'm moving out. I believe the pieces are ready, the scene is pretty much rehearsed... I've played it in my head several thousand times. All it needs now is the actual performance, with audience.

I got myself a checking account today. In order to properly pay my bills and to manage my accounts, I have a check book. That's it, there is no turning back now, I'm officially an adult. Those are the trappings, apparently... check book, TIN number, SSS number, bills for your rent and utilities... I've turned into an adult. I will be passing the point of no return. Anything childish/child-like that I'll be doing from hereon end will now be a young man's attempt to recapture youth. It will no longer be just some cute, funny thing young people do.

I don't know... I guess I'm putting a lot of importance on this. It just refuses to leave my mind. It is a huge shift of thinking. In fact, I'm pretty bored and tired of it already. I'm hoping I can just go and start talking about something else. I could talk about "Van Helsing" but I don't want to waste the effort. The movie was so bad, it was worth crying over... I couldn't believe they spent all that time, money and effort on that movie. It was a total waste of time.

And what happened to the Indigo Girls? Their latest album - "All That We Let In" is so uninspiring. Of the 11 songs in the album, only 3 or 4 are really worth listening to. What happened to them? They used to create such beautiful, beautiful songs... What happened to albums like "Swamp Ophelia" or "Rites of Passage?"

It just seems that though there is so much movement and action going on around us these days... Nothing seems to be really moving, nothing seems to be really growing. It is as if we've all stopped evolving.

And is this where we want to be? All these years, do we just sit happily like this? In this state that we are in? How sad... How truly sad...

We are swimming, we are floating
And in this moment we are beholden to
What it cost, to what it takes
For one perfect world.
Can we learn to live another way?
It's one perfect world.
-- Perfect World, by the Indigo Girls (written by Amy Ray)

As my steam begins to end, I find myself falling asleep during work. I find myself searching desperately for any morsel of slumber that I can get my hands on. The heat wave rises on these May days and I find myself awakening to my body filled with perspiration. I feel my energy has been sapped from me and I don't know how to regain it. Already, my work has suffered to the point that my producers can no longer deny the fact that I cannot handle the job. They will have to spend a little more to hire someone to replace one of my duties. I cannot do it alone.

I knew it was coming. I was afraid of the loss of some of my salary. Of course, it would have to be cut and returned to the salary of carrying one position and in these moments wherein I'm about to strike it out on my own, I was fearing for my life. Would I be able to afford it?

But apparently, the Universe has a tendency to provide. Another offer came from out of nowhere... How interesting! Another television show that would be exciting and challenging to write. This is as much as I will share. Not that I don't want to jinx it but to divulge more would make the show vulnerable to those who want to make it for themselves.

More importantly, anyway, I just want to share that all of a sudden, when I needed it most, the offer came. Am I not as forsaken as I thought I was? How strange that it should come right just when I needed it? In terms of love, I've never been lucky... But career, that has always been something I could hold on on my own... I never seem to have a difficulty to prove to people that I work, I work hard and that my work deserves to be paid.

That's something I can be very, very thankful for.

Ah, but the sordid topic of love. Will it ever be "happily ever after" for me? Once again, I am a star, orbitted by several planets that are as complicated and as fucked up as our own. Each one contains life and each one has their own set of satellites turning around them. They have doubled in number and I watch them like the sun as they orbit around me and find myself confused as to what to do.

Honestly? I just want to nova, burn them out until nothing is left and then walk on to the next set and try out my luck with them. But this is me. I always fall in love with the wrong kind of people. It's a curse, really. And I don't know how to dispel it.

I've stopped casting spells a long time ago...

You have been writing too, haven't you?
You have been living, too, like me.
And loving and hoping and crying and smiling, too.
All at once, even.
Wave after ecstatic wave.
You have never felt more alive than now.
You have never felt closer to death than now.

You know what I mean.
-- The Last Rite, Nerissa del Carmen Guevara

Waking up is such a joy when you've had a full 8 hours of sleep. Your head isn't fuzzy and you aren't swimming in molasses trying to remember where you have to be and at what time. Things are clearer and breathing is easier and you aren't rushing and trying to catch up with lost time in a body that isn't fully re-charged.

If I can help it, I'd love to be able to get more sleep. But honestly, I'd rather use the time for other things...

I want to start reading again. I keep trying to start on Ivan Klima's "Love and Garbage" but can't seem to get the drive to trudge on with the book. Since all my books are now here with me, I'll just go through the box and look for something. There's always Richard Adams' "Plague Dogs." If it is written in any way like "Watership Down" then I'm sure to like it. Afterall, "Watership Down" is one of my favourite books.

I want to be able to start writing again. I haven't been as prolific as I used to be and that's a bad thing, really. I used to write over 10 drafts of poems every week or a short story draft once every 2 weeks. I just need more time on my hands, that's all.

My resignation as a production manager has pushed through. I'm pretty much ending the second season of the show and then once the replacement arrives, I'm going to be just a writer. That will free up more of my time. Truth is, I haven't been spending as much time with my friends as I want to. Worse of all, I've been making new friends almost every week. I don't have the time to commit to these friendships working 24-7 on the Cory Quirino Show. I love working with my director and Cory Quirino herself, but the show isn't paying me enough to work everyday, to think about the show all the time. I'm sorry... they didn't pay me to slave away my days.

Back to writing full-time. This is going to be a blast. And then soon, I'll be moving out. How scary. Things are moving quickly and there's no other course but to stay on the same speed. Rules of inertia or something like that. Let's just see where everything falls at the end of the day and if I can sleep well and wake up after 8 hours and not have to rush. Not like my whole month of April, eh?

Getting out of my blue funk. I can feel it slowly going away. Happiness is around the corner. Just have to reach it...

I disappeared for two days. Into the darkness I crawled and lost shape and form. No one could find me. For two days, I had lost all sense of time and reality. I could have been anyone had I chosen. Instead, I submitted to the darkness and crawled deeper in.

I was in a world I knew existed but never thought would participate in. I thought these clandestine world's where off limits to people like me. I thought I could only venture through in my imagination. But I was wrong. There is a place for me there too. There is a place for anyone small enough to crawl in the darkness. Remember: in there, it's not your size or shape but your willingness to get down on your knees and move.

I disappeared for two days. It's taking me all of my self to reclaim the pieces that were lost those two nights. But I have no regrets. None whatsoever. I'm a wiser man by far. I'm been through the darkness, got my knees dirty, scraped my hands groping on the floor. I was not looking for a way out. I was not looking for a way deeper in. I was making a space where I could belong.

Because, in truth, there is something to be said of people who thrive in both the darkness and the light.

I have disappeared for 2 days. I now know that this is possible.

"... she decided she would stay there and wait until something significant happened to her. This was the challenge she was putting to existence -- she would not stir, not for dinner,not even for her mother calling her in. She would simply wait on the bridge, calm and obstinate, until events, real events, not her own fantasies, rose to her challenge, and dispelled her insignificance." -- Atonement, Ian McEwan

Hmm... I think I'm going back to my down slump. I've been enjoying life too much and my usual pendulum swing of moods is beginning to make its return swing to the area of darkness and blue. I don't want this to happen and it will take everything I have and know to not allow myself to go there.

I don't want to go there... Into that place of whining and complaining; where I make sour and biting remarks, not because it is funny, but because I really mean them. I hate playing the curmudgeon but what can I do? It's the part I play for half the year. The other half is played as the free-spirit where nothing can bring me down and nothing affects me. That part I like playing - all sunshine and moonlight, all clouds and bubbles and rainbows, flashy cars and shiny leather shoes and belt.

I sometimes feel like Persephone. Trapped in the bowels of hell for 6 months and then returned to the daylight for another 6 months. Of course, hell is not such an awful place. I'm sure the dead have interesting stories to tell. It can't possibly be the most fun place to be in; but it is most probably better than being stuck inside a box without windows or a door.

Now, where did I get that box from? Straight from the bowels of my subconscious, I guess...

I'm really in a foul mood and for no real reason, either... Mood swings. I hate `em.

You know the problem with people like me and you
We're too intelligent for our own good
And too stupid to know it's not true
-- Too Stupid, Layla Kaylif (written by Layla Kaylif and James Hallawell)

I've been thinking of leaving. I don't know why. Maybe the bright lights of Shanghai and the promise of a progressive land where if you work hard, you'll get what you deserve. That would be foolish of me to believe because it should be that way here in Manila as well, right? I mean, that should be the case anywhere in the world. But how come those words seem hollow? How come, all of a sudden, I feel that no matter how hard I work here in the Philippines, I'll never truly achieve that which I truly desire?

And as my brother says, I've only chosen Shanghai because it is the first city I've seen in a long time that appeals to my sensibilities. Should I, let's say, go to a European city, I'd be affected in the same way as I was by Shanghai. Whether true or not, I have opportunities and friends in Shanghai who would make it easier for me to move there. In a way, I have the key to that door. All I have to do is put it in, turn the knob and step through.

Rome, or shall we say Paris, well, I don't know anybody there who would help me get there. I'd have to look for the key first. The door shall remain locked to me.

All of a sudden, I want more than what my life here can offer me. I want so much more and I don't really feel like there is anything wrong with that. No matter how badly you rock the boat, things stay the same. It's a sad truth that I live with and I do not want to give up hope on my country but neither will I let my dreams die and fade away in the wind because of some foolish notion that I have that things are all right and things will get better. How many years has it been since we've all been saying that? It's not getting any better and with the sign of the times, it doesn't look like it will be anytime soon.

I'm just opening my eyes, adjusting to the light. This is the problem with comparison. Now there is a standard and this city just doesn't live up to mine. I'm very sorry. To be honest, I feel ashamed to say these things. I didn't want to ever leave my country; some part of me still doesn't... But ever since I've been focusing on myself and what I want to do, I've started realising certain things. I'm not letting go of my dreams. There is just so much that I can do and so much that I can still offer and I'm afraid that, if I do them here, all I will be is another abused, over-worked, under-paid employee in the unmoving hierarchy of the Philippine workforce.

I don't want to be jaded or sound like I've given up on my country. But I cannot abide by these systems and I cannot ride this tide. I just want to move on. Can I not just move on without sounding like another tired, disillusioned Filipino?

Yes, I was dazzled and mesmerized by the beautiful lights of the Paris of Asia. Why not? Don't we all deserve to be? And shouldn't my country be able to offer me just as much? As they say, "It's not what your country can do for you but what you can do for your country."

I'm sorry but I want to be a little selfish at the moment. I'm looking at my options, I'm checking out the routes; figuring out the destination. I only have so much time before I can figure things out and choose a place and then go. I'll do what I can for my country and then I'm going to do what I can for myself. They also say, "God helps those who help themselves..."

That's what I plan to do.