thrillkisskill

homeward bound

Wed, 08 Apr 2009 10:03:20 GMT

hi ho, i'm at the airport suffocating at the tinderbox, off to davao for the holy week, by this time tomorrow i'll be at the beach i swear. had to rush from work earlier to get my ass to the airport in time only to find out that my flight was cancelled. so i'm here, blogging while waiting for the next one while the world whirls around me.

not complaining, the swirling's nice. up karma, up. in the meantime, listen to this.

TV On The Radio: Staring at the Sun

Cross the street from your storefront cemetery
Hear me hailing from inside and realize I

I am the conscience clear
In pain or ecstasy
And we were all weaned my dear
Upon the same fatigue

You're staring at the sun
(Oh my own voice cannot save me now)
Standing in the sea
(It's just one more breath and then I go down)

Your mouth is open wide
The lover is inside
And all the tumults done
Collided with the sign
You're staring at the sun
You're standing in the sea
Your body's over me

Note the trees because
The dirt is temporary
More to mine than fact face
Name and monetary

Beat the skins and let the
Loose lips kiss you clean
Quietly pour out like light
Like light, like answering the sun

You're staring at the sun
You're standing in the sea
Your mouth is open wide
You're trying hard to breathe
The water's at your neck
There's lightning in your teeth
Your body's over me

You're staring at the sun
You're standing in the sea

too wired to sleep

Fri, 20 Mar 2009 19:10:36 GMT

Dissolved Girl
Massive Attack:

Shame
Such a shame
I think I kind of lost myself again

Day
Yesterday
Really should be leaving but I'll stay

Say
Say my name
I need a little love to ease the pain

Its easy to remember when it came
Cause it feels like I've been
I've been here before
And you're not my savior
But I still don't go
Feels like something that I've done before
I could fake it but I still want more

Fade
Made to fade
Passions overrated anyway

Say
Say my name
I need a little love to ease the pain

Its easy to remember when it came
Cause it feels like I've been
I've been here before
And you're not my savior
But I still don't go
Feels like something that I've done before
I could fake it but I still want more

quarterlife crisis

Wed, 25 Feb 2009 06:57:08 GMT

i can name five other people who are in the same straits as i am; and we're all having coffee later. i've been annoying myself singing Mercedez Benz, but i can't relate that well since i got a colored tv. want to fast forward my life to where i'm 30 and stable, being in between anything sucks big time cause i'm doing nothing but hoping. feel like some wannabe actress/waitress waiting for her big break into hollywood.

i'm no grinch

Fri, 26 Dec 2008 17:31:46 GMT

christmas is overrated. just an excuse to stress and hustle.

rock my world 2009. much love for 2008.

best cover of a pink floyd song:

Wish You Were Here
Rasputina

So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell, blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts? Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze? Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground. How we found the same old fears.
Wish you were here.

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground. How we found the same old fears.
Wish you were here.

watch this space. i'll be coming up with my best and worst list of the year pretty soon. peace out. (take me to the beach)

feline tranny

Mon, 24 Nov 2008 06:27:50 GMT

i came from lunch today. as usual, i was wearing the wrong outfit for the weather, my raise-my-spirits sundress was well, rained upon. it was still raining hard, and when i got out Box O'Rice i found myself in a existentialist dilemma. shades of me being a drama queen, but i couldn't cross the street cause the floodwaters were rising (read my entry about the libertad deluge).

stopped and stared for a while pondering my options, do i bravely cross the waters or walk to the kanto (flood's at its lowest point here) cross the street, and cut on the sidewalks to Xocolat? took the second option, i'm here at Xocolat, and so much for existentialist ponderings.

and, as it turns out, my sweet, pretty Catherine, dear readers, is a boy. yes, you heard me. a siamese boycat. i don't know how or why jeff and i could have missed the obvious for the 4 months he's been with us, but by early afternoon last saturday, he had tiny balls to show for it so we're calling him Santino for the moment. the deal is: i can name him anything i want as long as he responds to it. Kung Fu, for example. or Sleeky. Or Lazy. Amihan and Kapayapaan aren't really options, but i admit, i got bummed out when i found out he was a boy.

i mean its like finding out there's no santa, hell, i was singing to "her" my "prettiest cat in the world song" and wanting to buy dresses and getting into arguments with jeff about how outfits are "frivolous", and he, in the end ,turns out to be a boy.

i'm planning to turn him into the first trannycat though, i'm going to sing Cher/Madonna songs and surround him with glitter and high heels. not the best way to raise a cat, but if he takes the bait, he's gonna be a sistah real soon. :)

i dreamt i was dreaming, i was wired to a clock

Fri, 21 Nov 2008 06:00:40 GMT

..tickled by the minute hand too. my laptops telling me i've got 20 minutes before the battery dies, so this is gonna be quick.

i've been getting panic attacks. cabin fever is the pits. i've been holed up in my room, barely talking to anyone (much less seeing anyone), i wish the exams were over and done with already. its only thursday. fat chance.

and i miss Cat like crazy.

have i blogged about my black and white lazy furball yet? i got her for my birthday, present from the jeffcat. i swear i need a cat break. she's siamese and has blue eyes. i gotta get good vibes from something who won't speak and just rub against you. (disadvantaged people don't count).

i want this shit to be over. i'm jittery. so jittery.

pathology of pathos (i'm alliterate and fucking witty)

Tue, 11 Nov 2008 07:58:16 GMT

Sneaker Pimps: Waterbaby

Your heart is served cold
Your sights are set in perfect stone,
And when you go you go alone,
And when you stand you're on your own,
I wash the streets from your skin when you come home

We're nothing like friends,
You have no time to lend,
And if you're guilt then I'm the shame,
And if I'm hurt then you're the blame
You wash my trace from your skin and you leave again

Random laid plans, 40 days of one night stands,
And when you go you go alone
You walk the cross you made your own

I wash the streets from your skin when you come home

the bell jar just isn't as fun when you've got stockholm syndrome. i sound like karl. not. good.

happy halloweenie

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 11:09:35 GMT

spent a better part of last week confined. wasn't too happy about it, it all started with the hoopla for the forum that i'm working for, september and october blew past and left me spinning. literally.

800 delegates from various UN member states trooped to the PICC (Congo, represent! Palau wuz in da houze!); i was billeted at the nearest hotel from monday last week and i was being the busiest bee ever (PICC is not exactly the most pedestrian-friendly convention center.) anyhoot, we partied like rock stars on monday night, a supposed prelude to the weekend debauchery we had seriously planned for.

by midnight, only miguel, neve, shar, justin, aldwin and i were left. miguel, neve and i were the only ones drinking, and getting embroiled in a discussion that involved ninoy aquino, philippine culture and psychedelic drugs. neve left a bit after, so miguel and i were left to trip on justin and shar while screaming along to the deftones and breaking glasses over the balcony.

one love, good vibes all around.

woke up the next morning with a whoa, this is some serious hangover shit. by dinner, i started feeling that all was really not well since i felt feverish. by wednesday, i was getting chills and a panic attack, so i SOS'd jeffcat and checked my sweet, sweet ass out of the hotel and headed straight home.

thursday night saw me getting tests at the kidney center, and i was too weak to put up a fight when the doctor said i had to be admitted. and as everyone who knows me knows that i have an intense fear of needles, i almost passed out when she put the IV in, but i'm a trooper, so over the next few days resigned myself to almost passing out each time i got blood tests. oooh, for what they were worth, i got winehouse worthy needle marks on my arms. :)

friday was cool, my titas met jeffcat and they likee likee, so he spent the night mursing (that's male nurse for you non-scrubs fans out there) me and catering to my every whim. andie was my nurse the next day, and by saturday, i was bright-eyed, belligerent and vain so i knew i was all right; i spent most of the day haranguing my nurses into letting me go home (i wanted to fucking smoke already!).

except the hospital didn't think so. sunday morning came with an announcement that i was to stay another night for a stupid blood test. when i heard this my temper flared and i grabbed my dextrose stand, and nasty unsexy hospital gown a-flapping, headed to the nurses station and went, 'how dare you keep me here for another night for another bloodtest! you don't even know my diagnosis and i have been here for the past three days already! I demand to see my physician! call her!'

suffice it to say that the good doctor got to my room huffing and puffing and telling me that yes, i could go home, so i paid the bills and got the hell out of there. i swear i got cabin fever; losing three days of my life brought a whole new meaning to the word confinement. still on leave, so i got a pedi and a facial so i'm good to go back to work tomorrow. wee. and it's almost the fso exams and the holidays, so ima milk the years last few drops of goodness before the year ends. peace out, every little thing is all right. ;)

by the pricking of my thumbs

Sat, 20 Sep 2008 03:48:53 GMT

disclaimer: if you thought you were getting good vibes from this entry, you're not. go someplace else. if you're reading it anyway, call me. i probably need to talk to you. karl, i'm starting to hate your disappearing ass.

All the Pretty Faces:
The Killers

Help me out, I need it
I don't feel like loving you no more
I don't feel like loving you no more

Help me out, I need it
I don't feel like touching him no more
Help me out, I need it
I don't feel like fucking him no more
Well how did it happen
I spent two long years in a strange strange land
Well how did it happen
I'd do anything just to be your woman

Chorus:
You're not going anywhere without me
These trials don't prepare the air of love
You're not telling anyone about me
And you shake and you bleed while I sing my song

I don't feel like, I don't feel like
I don't feel like loving you
I don't feel like, I don't feel like
I don't feel like loving you

I don't feel like touching you
I don't feel like touching you
I don't feel like touching you
I don't feel like touching you
You can't tell anyone about me

Chorus:
You're not going anywhere without me
Help me out I need it
You can't tell anyone about me
Help me out I need it

I don't feel like, I don't feel like
I don't feel like loving you
I don't feel like, I don't feel like
I don't feel like loving you

i was supposed to blog about emo, pretty things since it's a week before my birthday (hoo-fucking-rah) but this week has been a long one, and i'm sick and tired of running up against imbeciles who get all nice only when they need something from me. yes, i have a guestlist for my birthday parties but i got a shitlist too.

what the fuck's so hard about cutting me some slack? is one good vibe too hard to ask for?

here's what i was saying this time last year:
The period between August and September is always cataclysmic for me no matter what year it is or whatever my dharma is. I swear to honest God I'm getting my ass kicked.

looks like i'm on an eternal loop. if anyone else wants to fuck me over, get a number and get in line. i swear to god i can't wait to get my ass home. i need a breather, i need a breather.

tales of september: greek tragedies

Wed, 10 Sep 2008 05:23:55 GMT

Something of Biblical Proportions:

so i was haunting my favorite ukay store after work, scored a coupla bags and a hot jacket. stuffed my stuff into my uberlarge work bag and headed out to the train station. mother of god, a storm was raging outside when i stepped out from the store, so i lit a cig and figured out my options.

floodwaters (hardcore baha, yawa!) had risen to calf height and for the life of me, myself and i, i couldn't see for shit cause the pasay-libertad area was DIM enough to begin with and the rain wasn't helping at all. i saw a trike about to pass by, so i ran out to hail it.

WHAM!

my feet flew out from under me and i fell into the floodwaters, i felt one of my slippers slipping from my foot while my umbrella flung from my hands; my dress was soaked through and the floodwaters smelled real foul.

i rose up, got my ass back to the sidewalk and stared blankly at my feet, one foot naked, the other one still wearing a slipper. some streetkids ran up to me to ask me, ate, ok ka lang? and i went, yeah, nahulog lang ako sa baha.

felt pain shooting through my foot, when i looked at it i found out that i stepped on something sharp (please god, i hope it was broken glass) and that my foot was bleeding. had no choice but to put on my work heels and limp all the way home (unglam, unfab, and slightly smelly, i know, i know).

couldn't go to work yesterday cause i couldn't walk, for all the trouble my foot's worth i got cabin fever and ended up pestering jeff the whole day.

***

Sickboy and Sickergirl:

My apartment is behind my moms, it makes for crazy situations for another entry but that's where Sickboy's story begins. My room is on the third floor, from my window i can see into Sickboy's home next door; i know they've got a backyard with a grotto/fountain, that they hang their laundry on top of the "servant's quarters" (to quote my illustrious ex-boss), that their maids break out into karaoke standards from time to time and that i'm sorely tempted to buy a pellet gun or a slingshot to hit their motley crew of terribly yappy/fugly little dachshunds/shi tzus.

i sing along (loudly) sometimes, while my next-room-neighbor sings as well to the thrumhums and vibrating buzzbeats of the washing machine inside her bathroom (yes, i hear her). but sometimes, the monotony of this charming scene is broken by the sounds of Sickboy's random howls and ululations.

i have seen Sickboy; but not up close since he's always in profile or he's down below in the yard. built like a penguin, bald and in his thirties, he's afflicted with some sort of syndrome that makes him flap his arms around while he's trundling in the yard, yowling and yowling until people bring him back in. i asked the guard at mom's apartment why the neighbors don't just institutionalize him (for my sake, really), but the thing is, he brings the family 'swerte' so they don't give him up.

Not-so-fresh-from-the-sleep-i-never-have, i wake up, have coffee, get dressed for work and walk down the stairs and out the door of my apartment. from the door, i have to walk to the gate. it's during this interval that i pass by my mom's apartment. two doors away from her unit, i always hear some woman screaming, "mga baboy! mga hayop kayo! p***ina!" while her faucet's turned on the whole time.

i asked my mom about Sickergirl, and she said that they pay up to 500 bucks per month for their waterbill individually ever since she started staying there cause she never turns her faucet off and keeps on screaming invectives all by her loathsome lonesome. rumor has it that her bedroom's always damp, someone from her house somewhere drops by occassionally to bring her food, but it doesn't help the screaming or the dampness at all.

my mom, like me, is a pretty hard tripper, so when Sickergirl's on a roll, it goes something like, "mga baboy!" "baboy ka rin!" "mga hayop kayo!" "mas hayop ka!" and so on, my mom like the crazy Greek chorus to the epic tale of the Crazies on A**** Street.

but for me, Sickboy and Sickergirl could be lovers like Pyramus and Thisbe in an alternate universe; only a wall keeps them apart after all. maybe if they met, just once in this lifetime, they would recognize in each other's eyes something familiar. (and for once, shut up for 5 minutes already. sorry. couldn't resist.)

(passage from Pyramus and Thisbe: by Ovid)

"Cruel wall," they said, "why do you keep two lovers apart? But we will not be ungrateful. We owe you, we confess, the privilege of transmitting loving words to willing ears." Such words they uttered on different sides of the wall; and when night came and they must say farewell, they pressed their lips upon the wall, she on her side, he on his, as they could come no nearer.

***

Ya Mama:

i was lounging at my mom's one afternoon, when the stillness was broken by the sounds of someone being broken. plates were being thrown around, a woman screaming upstairs (this is not Sickergirl, but the SickestWoman ever), and the dulled THWAP! of palm meeting flesh repeatedly and a child screaming his lungs out.

it went on for half an hour, my eyes were bugging out and i was telling my mom that we should call the cops on her. or hell, bantay bata 163 at least. turns out it's pointless cause the woman works for 163 (ah, irony); or an affiliate company anyway. hate to think the trauma the kid's getting, and i don't ever want to see that vile, vicious shrew cause i might hit her back (causing an endless cycle of paybacks-a-bitch on her end and bad karma on mine), or she might turn me to stone with a single hateful glare.

i've seen the kid though, scrawny as hell, with a scared, pained look in his eyes.

***

what's with the address right? bad feng shui? and i thought my old apartment had it bad. or maybe its because the gods are bringing destruction about since they've made this trio insane.

thrill*kiss*kill