Ketchup Packet

My heart is a ketchup packet,

Vulnerable at the perforated edges.

Outside, it's plastic and metal;

Inside, it's like everyone else's.

I'd rather you tear it up

At it's zigzag seams.

For you to use it up is what 

The red within me dreams.

Oh, to die for a cause

By giving my all.

To risk something from a short life

All for another's call.

I try to present myself better

But no one looks for packets anymore.

How could I compete

When the whole world just wants more?

So on the table I'll wait

Until you find what you need.

But I can't be here forever

When life tells me to proceed.

(8:32 PM, 03/30/12, Computer Room at Home)

[Photo]

Weak

Weak

JoJo

JoJo

Song of the Apprehensive

I see you from afar.

I wish you'd start the conversation.

All I ask for is courage

To talk to you in person.

You're with your friends.

You barely look my direction.

All I ask for is the chance

To talk to you in person.

Then I start to speak,

Yet fails in diction and execution.

All I ask for is the time

To talk to you in person.

So I wait instead,

But you never wonder my position.

All I ask for is you

To talk to me in person.

(10:17, 01/17/2012, Dorm Room)

Photo by: Charca Manilay

I'll Never Forget You

I'll Never Forget You

Birdy

Birdy

The Afterparty

I found myself walking along a nearly empty avenue, given that the cars were only coming and going by at some rate of 1 car for every 5 minutes. There wasn't much people by the road at 7 in the morning of a Sunday, compared to those of the weekdays - and it was a good thing, given my condition.

It was the afterparty. No, not the afterparty party. It's what happens next to the main event and no one moves to another location to prolong the boozefest. I was the scene of a 'mess', and I could't put 'Hot' in front of the word. It was the aftermath of a party, now described more aptly.

I have finally theorized that "The aftermath of a party is the antithesis of it's glamour." And even I couldn't escape it. I was finally at at point where I leave someone else's condo (where I just slept over, not humped over) with a very desperate attempt of making a new look out of last night's formalwear to trick the guards I lived there without them questioning if I stole or killed anything, or anybody - which I'd stress out did not. And I tell you, going out with what you wore the evening before was like any late fashion get up, so last night/season/year.

But then again, the ugliest part was not getting out - it was walking back to your place that made me look and feel like a total mess, even when i only drank a glass of blue liquor. A failed hand-combed beadhair and an untucked shirt with unbuckled shoes carrying nothing but pastel colored loot boxes and a memorabilia photo. And the sad part is: I was, while looking like a sad excuse for a partygoer, singing in the light wind to Adele.

Which made me realize: Why does life suck when I have done nothing wrong?

Or maybe it was my heart last night seeing people - yes, plural - I really like but couldn't tell what I was feeling. Or the feeling of losing a pen and a necktie. Or the feeling of getting a hug that would just release hormones all around the room. Or maybe it was me, walking alone along the street to my place feeling like punching Adele in the face for the song-inflicted heartache.

One more block to go before I get to my bed, I'd really like to sleep this one out. Maybe my heart is like my stomach, who forgets being hungry every time I wake up.

Somewhere out there

Or somewhere by my side

In waiting in the cold air

'Til our souls collide

(10:10 PM, 02/08/12)

Don't You Remember

Don't You Remember
Adele
21

Ang Babaeng Nasa Balkonahe

Nababahiran na ng dugo ang langit;

Animo’y nakikidalamhati sa akin.

At sa ilang saglit lahat ay didilim,

Lalabas ang mga lampara at bituin.

Ako’y naghihintay habang gumuguni

Sa araw na tila laging lumulubog.

Hindi pa ba ito nasikat sa aking paningin,

Lumiliwanag lang sa aking pagtulog?

Oh Araw, bakit hindi pa sa oras mo

Kumikilos ang lalaking umiibig?

Bagkos sa dilim lang sumesenyas,

Walang kimi ngunit nananalig.

Nakatataba man ng puso

Ang pagsinta sa liham, tula at harana,

Ngunit wala akong mahihinuha

Sa bulag na pag-ibig ng isang makata.

Mga kilos mo ang aking kailangan

At hindi ang mga bulaklak sa iyong bibig.

Kamay, paa, katawan ng lalaki –

Ang kayumanging kaligatan – ang aking iniibig.

Ipakita mo sa akin, gamit ng iyong gawa,

Ang dugong nananalaytay sa pagnanais

Sa pag-ibig at kalayaan ng aking puso

‘Pagkat ang panahon ay mapagmalabis.

Hindi lingid sa isip ko

Karahasan ng aking sasabihin:

Puso’y hindi sa akin para ibigay,

Ngunit sa inyo na angkinin.

Oh Haring Gabi, ‘wag ka pang dumating!

Ninanais ko pa ang araw.

Hintayin pa ang pulang belo na maglaho

Bago ikaw tuluyang dumalaw.

(1:12 PM, 02/26/12, Computer Room of the House)

Hello! I shall post a translation of this soon! :)

(Image Source)

Inspiration: Kundiman

by Jose Rizal

Tunay ngayong umid yaring diwa at puso

Ang bayan palibhasa'y api, lupig at sumuko.

Sa kapabayaan ng nagturong puno

Paglaya'y nawala, ligaya'y naglaho!

Datapuwa't muling sisikat ang maligayang araw

Pilit na maliligtas ang inaping bayan

Magbabalik man din at laging sisikat

Ang ngalang Tagalog sa sandaigdigan!

Ibubuhos namin ang dugo'y ibabaha

Ng matubos lamang ang sa Amang Lupa!

Hanggang 'di sumapit ang panahong tadhana

Sinta ay tatahimik, tutuloy ang nasa!

Sinta ay tatahimik at tutuloy ang nasa!

O Bayan kong mahal

Sintang Filipinas!

(Source)

Edit: HARING LEAR: Insanity at Its Most Complex

The Shakespearean Pieta: The King holding his beloved daughter who has done no wrong but be truthful and frank.

Feudal Japanese Clothing, Post-Apocalyptic Setting, Shakespearean Madness, Bald Actors, Filipino Language: Five things I would never think of being mixed, prepared and served.


But then again, I haven't seen much of anything really. So a fresh take on anything would be a wonderful slice of heaven after days when you just feel so "toxic".


So what else is in this bowl? Well, we could add great new friends, a possibility of acting the lead and relatively good seats to the mix. And when the mix is cooked and served, it comes in this wonderful white post-modernist box, the PETA Theater Center, lined with red and an eye-catching Neo-Filipino piece that looks into the history of the theater. What's inside is most probably the most eye catching of all. A red large room, decorated with destroyed paper lanterns, with some of them having the backbones to keep its shape. In addition to the post-apocalyptic state of the room, there were chandeliers with the covers nearly torn and an amazing throne of bamboo with a crown floating above the seater's head before the backdrop of bamboo frames that seemed to remind me of Encantada. I felt I was where I was supposed to be by merely entering the theater.


Given the setting, I would have never guessed what my gustation would come across: Shakespeare's King Lear. But with this new take on a classic, directed by Nonon Padilla, and being all-accepting as I am, I carried on with so much more excitement - more particularly with their clothing. Putting the Samurai skirts against the tight cotton tight tops was a flash genius! I would have never thought such fashion could be so modern and refined, most especially for men, since the Japanese fashion have only influenced female fashion, seen in the likes of Alexander McQueen. Furthermore, clothing ranged in limited colors of black - yes, shades of black, some very dark maroons, and even a few grays. This is in stark contrast to the whites of the main characters, Cordelia and Lear. The King's wardrobe has shifted from a dark-colored summer-polo-and-cargos combo to an added garbage bag cape and crown to a white Old English Top and tights ensemble that has defined his enlightenment and short-lived triumph. Cordelia's piece is what I truly applaud, for its versatility and simplicity. The immaculate white of the torso-fit dress which becomes matched with a lot of pieces like a white fan and gold tiara, a right-arm armor and a helmet with a large white feather, and even a wrap of clear plastic upon her death.


The furniture is mostly of Asian accents, mostly Filipino and Japanese. From the recyclables from native and natural elements to the everyday yet torn and time-punished pieces. The set also has a thing with small lights, present at the collar pieces of the evil sister's clothing and the crown in the throne. It is a nice touch to have the crown and scepter, symbols of kingly power hanging above the head of the seater. It is interesting to a point where the these items closely related to power is left on a throne, which would likely be related to the complete relinquishing of his land, and thus his power, to his two older daughters.


One of the best things about this take on Madness would be the switch of tongues, with a greater preference to the native one, without sacrificing the beauty of figures of speech in the original text. The sparing use of English in sometimes mocking, show-off, and/or emphasis-needed lines made it more attractive and appealing to the audience.


Time-lapses could be really confusing, given the common use of swords and horses which then shifts to a gun and very large electric fans, to shower-induced rains, and rain-coats. But the interest lies with this play of from-the-future parts in an old story retold.


Lastly, I would comment on the actors - yes, gender sensitively - actors, which are all male by birth. Having everyone except Lear to be bald is another form of playing with contrasts giving the viewer more focus on the King, which might have been played by many an understudy or double, given the length of some lines. The British Council is good at its art, which packages the whole shebang. The set, the lights, and most especially its actors who could carry a tune, and methodically be in character. The way they portray encompasses the humanness of humans, giving their disillusionment, swaying views and stands, and even their clam-ups to save themselves from the hurt that society or, even worse, the real world is throwing at them. Well, this is what I see. Some points to note are the scene of the eye-gouging, which is taken in a very admiring manner of complexity, more and less gore, and an ending to an act which would even make you gouge your own eyes; the fight scenes (a not so hunky, but still hunky guy to spot!) which would have needed much help, though knowingly, we must understand that violence is hard to fake; and lastly, the most amazing part of all, the ending with a thousand (an over exaggeration) quotes and excerpts, starting from T.S. Eliot, from cast standing between randomly placed lit candles in wire candle sticks.


I never knew a Post-Apocalyptic Cake could be heavenly.