Listening to some new (new to me, that is) music these days. Matisyahu, Dirty Vegas, some Princess Superstar, a lot of Kasabian. The Dresden Dolls are not my cup of tea, thus have promptly deleted the entire lot. I just don't get their music. Or Bjork's, or Sinead O'Conner, or Sigur Ros. Call me a tasteless blockhead but I actually like my music hard. Or dancy at the very least. I just can't put up with artsy fartsy crap. Lyrics don't matter to me most of the time. I mean, I don't really like ridiculously simple songs especially those dealing with the first throes of teenage love (and angst and heartbreak and sorrow and eventual suicide) but I don't like pretentiously gothic crap with hidden meanings and shit either. That stuff is just way too deep for me.

 

My teacher told us earlier today that there is no such thing as a simple person. All of us are complex. Maybe that's true, but I do like to think that there exist people with simple tastes. I like my music simple. Straightforward rock. No two ways about it. Helps me deal with rage, and anger, and disappointment, and hatred. It helps me to forget.

 

….............

 

A friend of mine died New Year's Day. He was drunk, driving too fast and ended up crashing into a wall somewhere in Maa. I didn't even hear about it until January 2 when I walk into the school and a CI asks me "may namatay raw na Ancheta? Alin sa kanila? Si Jeff o si James?" and I'm like WTF??? Jeff was nice. We were cool but I damn well adored James.

 

Peeled out of the parking lot like a kangaroo on coke and headed over to Cosmo. Thank fuck it was Jeff. How wrong is that? To be grateful that someone is dead? Either way, it was a lose-lose situation for the parents. I can't imagine ever having to deal with something like that. I've heard of starting the New Year with a bang but that was plain ridiculous. The song goes Bagong taon ay mag bagong buhay… not bagong patay. Punyeta, binuang na ni ba.

 

I feel for James. And his family. Nobody deserves to lose their brother like that. Yet through all of this, I'm still rather glad that it didn't happen to me.

 

Off to Cosmo. Ciao.

 

 

...................

 

 

 

 The Dandy Warhols-You were the last high

                 I am alone but adored
                 By a hundred thousand more
                 Then i said
                 You were the last
                 I have known love
                 Like a whore by at least ten thousand more
                 Then i swore that you were the last
               
                 You were the last high,last high,high

                 You were awake and i should have stayed
                 But i wandered
                 I was only out for a day
                 It was Chicago for a moment
                 Then it was Paris and London for a few days
                 And  i am alone
                 But adored
                 By a hundred thousand more

                 You were the last high,last high,high

                 I was the first to have spoken
                 And i said just about
                 All of the things you should`nt say
                 So maybe you love me
                 But now maybe you dont
                 Maybe you call me
                 Maybe you wont
                 So i am alone but adored
                 By a hundred thousand more
                 Then i said you were the last
                 I have known love like a whore
                 From at least ten thousand more
                 Then i swore you were the last

                 You were the last high,last high,high

'nother rainy night in good ol' davao city.

it's nights like these that make me feel glad for being alive. there's just something about the rain that appeals to the hedonist in me. makes me want to abandon all semblance of 'maturity' and just dance in it.  for a few blissful (and freezing and undoubtedly silly) minutes just... be.

of course, davao being what it is, and my house being located smack dab in the middle of downtown d.c., i have to settle for simply people gazing while having a post-dinner ciggie. Oooh. police car full of whores. langya. ang aga pa. not even nine p.m. heh. gotta love davao.

school's less of a chore now that i'm in the final leg of the race, so to speak. less than five months til i graduate and officially become a productive member of society. strangely enough i find myself looking forward to it, if only for the very long break that comes with graduating. until then, i'll just have to occupy my time dreaming up moneymaking schemes with Erick and Eileen. lord knows we're broke and damnit, christmas is coming up.

time to start writing up that naughty/nice list. glad i have a very short nice list. hehehe. any guesses who's on it?


David Bowie - REBEL REBEL

Doo doo doo-doo doo doo doo doo
Doo doo doo-doo doo doo doo doo
Doo doo doo-doo doo doo doo doo

You’ve got your mother in a whirl
She’s not sure if you’re a boy or a girl
Hey babe, your hair’s alright
Hey babe, let’s go out tonight
You like me, and I like it all
We like dancing and we look divine
You love bands when they’re playing hard
You want more and you want it fast
They put you down, they say I’m wrong
You tacky thing, you put them on

Rebel rebel, you’ve torn your dress
Rebel rebel, your face is a mess
Rebel rebel, how could they know?
Hot tramp, I love you so!

Don’t ya?
Doo doo doo-doo doo doo doo doo

You’ve got your mother in a whirl ’cause she’s
Not sure if you’re a boy or a girl
Hey babe, your hair’s alright
Hey babe, let’s stay out tonight
You like me, and I like it all
We like dancing and we look divine
You love bands when they’re playing hard
You want more and you want it fast
They put you down, they say I’m wrong
You tacky thing, you put them on

Rebel rebel, you’ve torn your dress
Rebel rebel, your face is a mess
Rebel rebel, how could they know?
Hot tramp, I love you so!

Don’t ya?
Oh?

Doo doo doo-doo doo doo doo doo
Doo doo doo-doo doo doo doo doo

Rebel rebel, you’ve torn your dress
Rebel rebel, your face is a mess
Rebel rebel, how could they know?
Hot tramp, I love you so!

You’ve torn your dress, your face is a mess
You can’t get enough, but enough ain’t the test
You’ve got your transmission and your live wire
You got your cue line and a handful of ludes
You wanna be there when they count up the dudes
And I love your dress
You’re a juvenile success
Because your face is a mess
So how could they know?
I said, how could they know?

So what you wanna know
Calamity’s child, chi-chile, chi-chile
Where’d you wanna go?
What can I do for you? looks like you’ve been there too
’cause you’ve torn your dress
And your face is a mess
Oh, your face is a mess
Oh, oh, so how could they know?
Eh, eh, how could they know?
Eh, eh

What have I been up to these days?

Well, nearly got myself killed last saturday, along with chocolateliprookie (was a champ about it. didn't realise she could have died until around 30 minutes after the accident. Cue in a hyperventilating, weak-kneed but still bitching and smoking and cursing and etc, etc, etc chocolateliprookie.

  chocolateliprookie: Anne, putangina! *smoke, puff, smoke, puff, exhale, vent*
  sugarrushjunkie: bai, my car! *going apeshit*
  chocolateliprookie: fuck your car, Anne. Stop panicking! *puff, sneer, vent, puff, puff, pfft*      
  john: Jayb, you could have died!
  chocolateliprookie: Oh, fuck. *slump, puff, puff, hyperventilate, puff, lean against car, puff, puff, puff* )


my precious crashed into another car and putanginangshit  mah baby's demolished. Am in pain.

At that point chocolateliprookie started singing Sublime as the cops and usiseros began arriving (meddling, more like). Nyeta.

Oh yeah, she was traumatised. Really traumatised. I mean, she can still sing and bitch and smoke. That's trauma according to chocolateliprookie for ya. 

chocolateliprookie: Get ready come on now, load up the bong, crank up the song,
let the informa call 911

So here comes this fat-ass parok with a heroic length of measuring tape and we're going..

chocolateliprookie: Bai, what's he doing? *puff, smoke, exhale, puff... pfft*
sugarrushjunkie: He's measuring. *panic, puff, puff, panic*
chocolateliprookie: Puta, CSI ang birada, no? *cackling, puff, puff, cackle some more*


Mmmm. Met hot brit/american/pinoy. Am having coffee with him later. Uh, boyfriend's in Siargao (emancipation!) so no problems from that quarter.

Aced my comprehensive exams, 84/100, beating erick and eileen by 9 and 10 points respectively so apparently, i'll still be studying.

And on that note...

Sublime - Get Ready Lyrics

Some folks say smoking herb is a crime, 
if they catch you smokin they're bound to drop the dime 
Insufferable informa crazy fools wait: 
with their fingers crossed for you to break the rules 
And in the evening when we try to jam, 
we like the music loud in this here band 
We let the bass line drop as loud as we can stand 
Somebody always gotta turn informa for the man 
I want to know right now is there one of you in the crowd 
 
are you gonna call 911 
and spoil all of my fun 
You crazy fool i'm in the mood 
Get ready come on now, load up the bong, crank up the song, 
let the informa call 911 
And when security police force want to arrive 
Don't try to run, don't try to hide 
just pull out the .9 pop in the clip 
and let one slip into these crazy fools 

Not doing much these days. Smoking, drinking, hanging out with Erick and company, waiting for the axe to fall. I think I might have to repeat this sem if I fail fecking NCM 104 which is not cool. Stupid subject. I cannot afford to be held back one more year, pucha. I'm too damned old to still be in school.

Counting down the days until Chloe gets her butt here. I miss that bitch. I miss her, I miss her, I miss her. I sure as hell don't miss being shoved like some fat-ass plush toy but I do miss her.

What else is there to say? Gaining weight, getting fat. Not good. Boyfriend driving me up the wall with text messages and looking for me, poor abandoned child.

As I thought. Nothing worth blogging about.

Going to bed. Will have to wake up early tomorrow to get my LCR from city hall para matapos na ang lahat, dammit.

Argh.

LMAO. Brief moment of hilarity. Fucking great, great Saturday night. Great music (Alice In Chains, Stone Temple Pilots, The Flys, Spacehog [they actually played In The Meantime!], The Doors etc, etc, etc), great company (Ella, Ryan, Da Boyz [namely Rex, Erick and Denver]), the boyfriend. Great night. Fun for all. Didn't have to drive because I bummed a ride off Da Boyz which means Beer All Ya Can! Yeah, so I'm sounding really stupid. Bits of conversation.

Ella: The vocaler is really lami.
Rex: Nah, mas lami ang guitarer.
Denver: Anne, open lagi ang fly sa imong uyab.
SpoiledTechnoBrat: Bai, I am so wondering what the hell you're doing staring at my uyab's fly.
Rex: You're supposed to be staring at my fly!
Denver: I didn't mean to!
SpoiledTechnoBrat: Those damn eyeballs keep on wandering, don't they?


Uyab (after being nibbled on the ear): I feel like your damn chew toy.
SpoiledTechnoBrat: Think of it this way, if I were your bitch, your ear would be in ribbons by now.
Uyab: Small favors, hon.


Started texting with one chocolateliprookie (coming home on the 14th! Yeba!). Usual exchange. Lyrics back and forth, clumsy innuendo (on my part). Boyfriend sees message contents and promptly throws a hissy fit. Je-sus. Doesn't the name Say My Name, Bitch! imply a girl? Tagbaw gyud ko ug explain nga babae tong akong ka text. Leche.

I mean, come on. If I were cheating on him (which I am, naturally *smirk*), I certainly wouldn't be texting in front of him. Fuhhhh.

Going to bed.

 

Artist: The Roots f/ Cody Chesnutt
Album: Phrenology
Song: The Seed 2.0

[Verse 1: Black Thought]
Knocked up 9 months ago
And what she finna have she don't know
She want neo-soul, this hip-hop is old
She don't want no rock-n-roll
She want platinum or ice or gold
She want a whole lotta somethin' to fold
If you a obstacle she just drop ya cold
Cuz one monkey don't stop the show
Little Mary is bad
In these streets she done ran
E'er since when the heat began
I told the girl look here
Calm down I'ma hold your hand
To enable you to peep the plan
Cuz you is quick to learn
And we can make money to burn
If you allow me the latest game
I don't ask for much, but enough room to spread my wings
And the world finna know my name

[Verse 2: Cody Chesnutt]
I don't ask, for much these days
And I don't bitch, and whine, if I don't get my way
I only wanna fertilize another behind my lover's back
I sit and watch it grow standin' where I'm at
Fertilize another behind my lover's back
And I'm keepin' my secrets mine
I push my seed in her push for life
Its gonna work because I'm pushin' it right
If Mary drops my baby girl tonight
I would name her Rock-N-Roll

[Verse 3: Black Thought]
Uh-huh
Cadillac need space to roam
Where we headin for she don't know
We in the city where the pros shake rattle and roll
And I'm a gaddang rollin' stone
I don't beg I can hold my own
I don't break I can hold the chrome
And this weighin' a ton and I'm a son of a gun
My code name is The Only One and Black Thought is bad
These streets he done ran ever since when the game began
I never played the fool
Matta fact I be keepin' it cool
Since money been changing hands
And I'm left to shine, but the legacy that I leave behind be the seed
that'll keep the flame
I don't ask for much but enough room to spread these wings
And the world finna know my name

[Verse 4: Cody Chesnutt]
I don't beg
For no rich man
And I don't scream, and kick, when his shit don't fall in my hands, man
Cuz I know how to still
Fertilize another against my lover's will
I lick the opposition cuz she don't take no pill
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-no dear
You'll be keeping my legend alive
I push my seed in her push for life
Its gonna work because I'm pushin' it right
If Mary drops my baby girl tonight
I would name her Rock-N-Roll
Oh-ooh break it down, break it down, break down beat

[break]
I push my seed somewhere deep in her chest
I push it naked cuz I've takin my test
Deliverin' Mary it don't matter the sex
I'm gon' name it rock and roll
I push my seed in my push for life
It's gonna work becuz I'm pushin it right
If Mary drop my baby girl, tonight
I would name her Rock-N-Roll
I would name her Rock-N-Roll
I would name her Rock-N-Roll yeah
I would name it Rock-N-Roll

There are certain days when I want to slap him silly for being such an insensitive bastard. For ignoring me, for choosing his stupid friends over me. Yeah, I’m turning into such a girl.

 

Then there are nights like tonight where he walked two blocks in the pouring rain to buy me dinner at eleven in the evening when I didn’t even ask him to. Or rather, I don’t think I did. I just commented that I hadn’t had anything to eat the whole day and the next thing I know I’m alone in the office. Yeah, so bitch, bitch, rant and whine mentally about abandonment.

 

Thirty minutes later he’s back, bearing dinner.

I eat, he stares at me in that sullen way of his. He goes out to get more pictures of the band competition we're supposed to be covering. He goes back in and remarks "Dugaya nimo mag dinner oy!" 

And I'm going "You try eating with sporks, idiot. Thanks for breakfast, lunch and dinner, by the way."

Another sullen look. "You starve yourself by choice."

Bastard.

Fuck, I love this man.

The place where I serve my duty this week is very Bahay Ni Lola. I spend my time lying on an unmade bed, Noel's big body next to mine. Occassionally we shift positions so that my head is on his stomach, his hand is on mine and we stare out the window killing time and fighting off sleep.

A bird came into the room yesterday. Flew past the rusted grills and perched on the sill, giving Noel and me an appraising look. With a hop, skip and a twist of his little round head he conveys his disapproval. I wonder if birds can sneer. I smile at the thought, pointing at the bird. Noel says I'm whimsical, I tell him he's a cheating scumbag. He smiles. It's the truth, though, isn't it? That he's a lying cheating scumbag who happens to be good in bed.

I like him. He's my friend. He isn't afraid to tell me the truth and he isn't afraid to put me in my place. Inasmuch as I hate to admit it, I need a good whack on the head from time to time. Push me off the pedestal for a bit. I like his arms. Muscled and strong from hours in the gym. Perfect to worry my teeth in.

But those are thoughts I'd rather not think.

It's been a while since I've been physically attracted to anyone without feeling anything for them.

I roll over and put on some music.

I listen to Courtney Taylor and try not to think about the world.

Fugue of Death

Black milk of daybreak we drink it at nightfall
we drink it at noon in the morning we drink it at night
drink it and drink it
we are digging a grave in the sky it is ample to lie there
A man in the house he plays with the serpents he writes
he writes when the night falls to Germany your golden hair Margarete
he writes it and walks from the house the stars glitter he whistles his dogs up
he whistles his Jews out and orders a grave to be dug in the earth
he commands us strike up for the dance

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink in the mornings at noon we drink you at nightfall
drink you and drink you
A man in the house he plays with the serpents he writes
he writes when the night falls to Germany your golden hair Margarete
Your ashen hair Shulamith we are digging a grave in the sky it is ample to lie there

He shouts stab deeper in earth you there and you others you sing and you play
he grabs at the iron in his belt and swings it and blue are his eyes
stab deeper your spades you there and you others play on for the dancing
Black milk of daybreak we drink you at nightfall
we drink you at noon in the mornings we drink you at nightfall
drink you and drink you
a man in the house your golden hair Margarete
your ashen hair Shulamith he plays with the serpents

He shouts play sweeter death's music death comes as a master from Germany
he shouts stroke darker the strings and as smoke you shall climb to the sky
then you'll have a grave in the clouds it is ample to lie there

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you at noon death comes as a master from Germany
we drink you at nightfall and morning we drink you and drink you
a master from Germany death comes with eyes that are blue
with a bullet of lead he will hit in the mark he will hit you
a man in the house your golden hair Margarete
he hunts us down with his dogs in the sky he gives us a grave
he plays with the serpents and dreams death comes as a master from Germany

your golden hair Margarete
your ashen hair Shulamith.