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Note: This is gonna be a very very thinly veiled sort of "metaphor" (excuse me if I used the wrong word, it might be another figure of speech) for somethings that I first tried out this year. Mind you, this post is gonna be like the Bible where you DON'T TAKE THINGS LITERALLY and that THE REAL MESSAGE IS UNDERNEATH.


Now, after a whole year of contemplating about doing so and checking if I do have all the right cards for it, I actually tried fishing* this school year. I thought it was about time that I start. If I had any ambition of doing something along those lines and knowing other people with similar interests, then might as well as start now, early, before any real academic distraction would hinder me form doing so. And so I did.

Of course, as a beginner, I started small. Small, in the sense that I started in a pond sea that is closer to home and filled with familiar... stuff. (Hang on with me here.) And so, with a small crew, some I already knew, some I was really glad to become friends with, we went off. 

That first trip was okay, I guess. Pretty rough start. No, screw that, REALLY ROUGH START. I hated it. I hated all the little things we had to do to keep the damn boat afloat. We made it though (of course), and things were pretty smooth sailing from there. Well, or I thought it was.

I know two sayings about calms and storms, one in Filipino, one in English. The English one is the one about things being the "calm before the storm" and stuff like that. The Filipino one is about calm men, where the calmest looking men usually have the most turbulent storms inside. 

I was that Filipino saying. I looked all calm and stuff, doing everything I have to do (captain of the ship, so I can't physically show anything wrong), but deep inside I was doubting EVERYTHING. This trip, my crew, EVERYTHING, even fishing. It was a time of internal doubting and confusion. I questioned everything I've been doing, not just fishing. It sparked a whole episode of self evaluation, a shuffling of priorities, a huge change of sorts. 

It was then that I decided that this was just not gonna cut it, and that I have to leave before I waste anymore time. That if I really do wanna do things right, I better stop all these excesses and distractions and icings on the cake and just get on with it. And so I decided to abandon ship.

Of course there was opposition, something about me being captain and part of the crew. There was opposition where I expected it to come from, and, not surprisingly, no opposition where I expected it to not exist. It was eye opening actually, that small part where oppositions did not exist. I mean, I wasn't surprised, I sort of expected that to happen should I ever chose to abandon ship. But for a crew that preached unity, it was sort of out of place.

I left, of course. I was pretty decided by then that no matter what happens and what convincing they try, I will leave, and they can do nothing about it. I had to work on my life, good luck with yours, I've pushed you as far as I can without giving away to much of myself, thank you for the memories, goodbye. 

And I went back to my normal life, without fishing. Tidied up loose ends, fixed and cleaned up stuff, just to prepare myself for that big jump. The crew got the big fish in the end, cheers to them. I mean, they deserve it after everything they went through. 


That's for Part I. Maybe I'll do Part II later.

 Because I actually have a diary now :)) Well, it's just temporary. And besides, I don't really think you guys would be interested in my account of my usually boring everyday life. I belong to the 'blogs are supposed to be for meaningful things' school of people, and my entries on my 'diary' aren't that... mostly. Maybe when it's done, I'll post the more meaningful ones here. 

Until then, I guess.

New Year's Confession, Part 1

 Someone once told me that the thought of me going soft and being kind to someone reminded them of a trope, or a device commonly used in creative works. It was this trope. My first thought was, "this isn't me". Well, one, I don't really meet any of the conditions for the character. And two,...what the fuck.

Then., my second thought was just a plain "WHAT THE FUCK". I can't believe someone actually thinks I'm like this. I know that only a small minority (which only consists of this one person, I believe) actually believes that I'm like this. But it still feels weird that someone actually does think so.
Which got me thinking about, well, that. To be honest, I never really thought about it. When people ask me for advice (oh trust me, people actually do), I just pull it out of my ass and sprinkle it with, well, observations of other people, and some logic. It's less 'from experience' and more of 'common sense' and 'in real life' combined. But the main reason that I never thought about it was because I avoided thinking about it like a plague. I just didn't want to. If someone wanted to talk about it, I changed topics, or I make sure it's about the person, and I'm just the passive listener. Bottom line is, I never thought about it. Until that time.

Like most of friends and those who follow me on LJ, I was a 90s kid. Britney's never flashed her beavers before, Miley Cyrus/ Hannah Montana didn't exist, supermodels has meat on their bones, and boybands had orgies, not celibacy rings. This was the time when Disney was a powerhouse because of GREAT movies, not because of teen stars that not only sing, but also dance.

While most boys were bombarded with anime cartoons about transforming machines, superheroes in spandex, and men collecting balls,
and most girls were exposed to cartoons of women taking charge and finding the love of their lives, while also saving the things they cherish the most, I was mainly exposed to two main Disney franchises: Winnie the Pooh, and The Lion King series. In short, my childhood idea of friendship came from a boy and his asexual stuffed toys, as well as a warthog and a meerkat, and my idea of love came from lions. 

As you can see, even before high school, I was pretty fucked up already in this field.

Then I started watching what everyone else was watching, reading what the old folks were reading, and in the end, I ended up having a point of view very similar to most girls; the 'sweep-you-off-your-feet', 'fate-determined', 'skip-a-heart-beat', 'you-just-know' school of love, just that I was in the guy's team. Four years of high school hanging out with girls, a couple of romantic comedies, and some Taylor Swift, John Mayer, and other emo songs pretty much tied me down to that idea of love, even though I always knew that it didn't make sense at all.

To let one's life be lead by something one cannot control is one of the stupidest things anyone can do; it just does not make any sense for anyone to do that. And I tried to remove myself from it too; tried to treat it like a game (Art of Seduction), a joke (dirty sex jokes with Ralph Alba and Joker Asis), and even tried to immerse myself in its darkest corners to remove the romance that surrounds it (De Sade, libertinism), all to no avail. I was stuck with something I knew didn't make sense.

A quote I found in Tumblr once said that if your heart and your brain contradicted each other, you had to trust the one which was better of the two. I stopped listening to one muscle and just rely on my brain. And by doing so, I prevented myself from doing the one thing I never figured out and never made sense to me: fall in love. It was almost like a pact of celibacy: you force yourself to not feel anything for anyone. 

Doing so had it consequences. The easiest and lest complicated of them was lying. Well, less of lying, and more of just saying no to everything. People would ask me, "Luis, do you like this-and-so-and-so", and all I could reply is an unsatisfying and unconvincing no, because I don't really have or even know the answer. It's like defaulting a 'true' in a modified true or false part of an exam because you don't have any idea what to replace the underlined phrase with.

After that, things started to get harder to dodge. I had to learn how to smoothly deflect attention, to misguide a conversation so that the focus, should it ever fall on me, would easily be transferred to someone else. It was really hard to do at first, but it got easier with more practice and stuff. 

Then, you start forgetting things. The first thing I forgot was the difference between being friendly and flirting with someone. Since I never really knew the dividing line between the two, I never really knew if what I was doing to other people was flirting or just being friendly. I just assumed that I was being friendly, more or less. I had people point out to me that I crossed the line and stuff, and I wouldn't even know it. 

In the end, I forgot the one thing that you were always supposed to know; I forgot what it feels like to be in love, or at least, what it's supposed to feel like. So I never know if I l like someone because they're weird or interesting, or if I like them because I *like* them. Either way, it feels weird, like they stick out of the crowd for some time, but I'm not really sure, because I feel it for random people with no thread to connect them. So all I can do is befriend them, know them, maybe even show them special attention, and know which one it really is. Eventually it fades away, or the novelty of it anyway, and we become friends plain and simple.

But because I lost that last one, I don't really have anything to say if someone asks me if I like someone. And that's because I wouldn't really know.


Obligatory Christmas Confession, Part 2

 It's been two hours since Christmas officially ended, and I haven't felt that emotional roller coaster ride that I've been getting for the past few Decembers. And I'm happy that all of that drama's over with now. Maybe I'm a little bit more in control of my self now; more grown up and less easily swayed by whatever external or internal forces are present. In a way, I'm more stable now; something that I've always wanted to be.

Not having all those personal things to worry about allowed me to observe and focus on the things happening around me. Or, well, how I interact with the rest o the world. It being the season of giving and receiving, one thing becomes in focus more than the others; material things, and the difference between want and need (not in an economic point of view).

Lately, I have undergone a huge effort in simplifying myself. A lot of (self-enforced) back-to-basics effort and changes in my life. Sure, I was more lenient with myself during the first semester (allowed myself to indulge in finer, more expensive things), but slowly I was able to detach myself more and more from the trappings of luxury that I got myself accustomed to during high school. 

This effort became really evident in one aspect of me in particular: clothes. 

For some reason, I was able to get a fashionisto image in Pisay. No idea how, no idea why, but it stuck. Much like the RK thing. Anyway, considering UP doesn't have a uniform code or anything (except for the IDs), it was sorta expected for me to wear something on trend, fashion forward, or, at the very least, chic. Let's just say they didn't get that.

During high school, whenever I go out during the weekends, my outfit was sorta almost always the same; button-up, tucked out, denim pants, and either boat shoes or rubber shoes, depending on my mood. Somehow it worked; the button-up gave me a sort of formal-air, and since I don't really go outside under the sun a lot (I usually just go to malls over the weekends), the sorta-warm outfit doesn't really bother me.

Summer after graduating high school really changed that. I was in yearbook committee, and the overseer was really into scheduling meetings where we can meet each other. It was summer, and we've graduated already, so school's out of the question. So we usually meet at someone's house. I don't have a car (well, we do, but we don't have a driver, or anyone who would drive me around), so I have to commute. Knowing Filipino summers, it can get hot. Really hot. So, after a few tries with my usual get up, I switched and did something I don't usually do; wear t-shirts without any button up over it. The practical took over the usual and it stuck. Since then, I've been wearing t-shirts since, even in UP. Because of that, my wardrobe became a whole lot cheaper to fill up.


But then, it's still me. I don't really give up on the good things that I believe in easily. So while some things ma be simpler, I don't go for lesser quality. I always give a lot of importance to the quality of things, which is why sometimes I allow myself to splurge when I know that the quality is undeniably superior and worth the price it asks for. So while it may seem that on some of my things, especially in the finer details (ball pens, notebooks even), it may seem simpler and office-y even, I don't skimp on the quality.

I'll be honest though; other than the practicality side of it, I don't really have anything else driving me to do this self simplification thing. But I guess that was enough for me to change myself, however slow it was. Maybe it's for the better. Who knows? 

UP's changing me bit by bit and I wouldn't have even noticed it if I didn't stop myself to look and notice.

Obligatory Christmas Confession, Part 1

It's that time of year again. And I'll be posting some confession posts until I get busy and become unavailable. The reason why I've had these emo posts during this time of year during the past few years is sorta simple really. Well, for me anyway. I don't know if you guys will relate to it though.

During December, I start losing my sanity and whatever is left working in my brain starts to take a backseat in an emotional rollercoaster ride that reaches its peak right before Christmas eve. After Christmas eve, I am able to once again regain control of myself just enough to make myself presentable to visitors and everyone else attending the Christmas Eve party.

Before that, I'm a huge trainwreck who's facing the computer thinking FOREVER ALONE and all those crazy thoughts. Which is why I'm able to pull out all those emo shit out of nowhere.

This year, maybe I'll change things a bit. Well, first, because I'm still not experiencing that emotional rollercoaster thing I talked about, so I'm more or less sane right now; and two, well, I'm sorta bored.

Also, since I'm in college and all, I think it's about time that people get to know parts of me that I never really talk about or let anyone see. The thing is, I haven't really been honest to everyone, even my real life friends. Less of lying to them (well, actually, extremely little of that) and more of selectively withholding some facts about me that I'm not really ready to share with anyone.

But sometimes I slip, and sometimes I fail to police what I say, especially when I get lost and engaged in a conversation. So, some people actually know me a lot more than others. Being my friend longer doesn't necessarily mean that you know me more; sometimes, people I just knew from high school, or even later, hit the right notes, strike up the right conversation topics, and things about me just flow out like water from a pitcher.

What's even harder about sharing yourself to others is when even you don't know who you are. Nietzsche said that one does not discover ones self; instead, one creates it from scratch, and one must enforce it consciously everyday so that it gets established even in the people around you. Identities can be made and changed at ones will.

But somehow, something still doesn't fit. Creating and changing identities is something that almost anyone and everyone can do, especially when the situation requires it. But somehow, something does not fit. Something inside us gives us this feeling of needing to discover something about us, even though Nietzsche says there shouldn't be any such thing, since we just created that. And yet we still feel that there's something we don't know about ourselves that exists without our knowledge that has to be discovered. 

Bottom line is, there's something you don't know about yourself. And not knowing makes it that much harder to share to those you care about who you really are.
 Well, okay, maybe 'burger from hell' is a bit too much of an exaggeration. It's not THAT bad, it's just that the bad overpowered what good aspects the burger had. Oh well. Also, since it was an impulse buy, and I was power (window)shopping, I was eating it on the go while walking, so I had no time to take pictures. But oh well.

Let's play: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.

First Impressions: Unboxing
  • That smells really good.
  • It's smaller than I thought it would be.
  • It's so oily, it comes with its own blotter paper.
I'll be honest: the mayo thing? Totally turned me off. Actually made me think twice about taking a bite. I have a thing against most mayos. They just... taste weird. Sweet in a way that you would never understand. Which I hate. It's oily, but not as oily as I thought it would be. But still, it's oily. It's also smaller than I thought it would be. About 10%-15% smaller. But then again, all ads are like that.

But the smell. Oh god, the smell. Besides the hint of mayo smell (that weird as shit sweet thing again), it was heavenly. I really love KFC's original recipie chicken, and this 'burger' smelled just like it. Convinced me to take a bite.

Go Deeper: First Bite
  • Mmm. KFC's original recipie chicken
  • Mmm. Bacon. Soft bacon.
  • Chicken is moist with oil.
  • Seriously? Cheese?
  • Eurgh. Mayo. Eurgh.

So yeah. The first bite's not that bad. Chicken's good, the bacon's soft (this might be polarizing for some; I like my bacon both ways while some might like it crispy or soft). The chicken's moist with oil, and it's sorta tender. If you keep your mind off the though that it's oil, you're okay. 

What I seriously couldn't get my mind around was that they chose to place MAYO and CHEESE in between the two slabs of chicken. I mean, if they placed gravy, that would have been better because the taste goes well with the chicken. BUT MAYO? AND CHEESE? It's like dropping Hiroshima, and dropping Nagasaki anyway JUST TO BE SURE. It's too much of the (not exactly) the same thing. I thought it would have been better if they placed lettuce, tomatoes, and maybe some pickles in there to counter the saltiness and the umami flavor.

All in all, it could have been good. But it sorta go ruined halfway. Could be better, could be saved. But at its current state, it's bad.

Winnie the Pooh

If you guys haven't heard yet, Walt Disney studios is coming up with the lates movie to come from the Winnie the Pooh franchise, which will be released July next year. That was the trailer, embedded for your pleasure. I'm really happy that Disney went the distance and kept it in the original style it always had, and kept the voice actors as close as the originals.

That said, watching this video depresses me.

You see, as a kid, I've always loved Pooh. That was around more than 10 years ago. My love of Pooh started around the time that I got to Japan. I read books, bought stuffed toys, and obsessed over the bear. He was the high point of every trip to Tokyo Disneyland. And when I'm not watching Japanese kiddie shows, I'm watching a VHS (YES, VHS!) of Winnie the Pooh. 

Winnie the Pooh, long story short, was my early childhood.

A decade and then some, more than a handful of medals, two diplomas, a library of books, and many treasure chests of experience and memories later, he comes back, almost unchanged, almost unscathed by time. Seeing him again inevitably made me think about who I was more than 10 years ago, 6 (or 5?) years old, skipped school, and had no idea of what Saint Mary's College, Philippine Science High School, and the Univeristy of the Philippines was, or that he would ever get (through) there.

Pooh reminded me of who I was at my most innocent; the ultimate uncarved block. 

A little more than a decade later, he comes back to remind me of who I used to be. And for the first time, for a really really long time, I'm not proud of who I am.


Sorry. I know I'm supposed to be studying for the Geol exam, but I just had to get this out of my system.

I just realized what bad taste I had in people. People to talk to, people to interact with, people to hang out, people to be friends with, people to trust. Not that I don't like the people who I consider best friends now, from high school and elementary. THEY'RE awesome, even though some can be bitches. But that's okay, I'm a bitch too, and that's how we roll.

What made me realize that I had bad taste was when I entered college, separated from most of the people I've become comfortable with. I mean, I still meet them sometimes, but sometimes doesn't really guarantee that you have people playing cards with you everyday during lunch, talking, laughing, or giggling about the juiciest gossip, comiserating at really hard exams, copying and comparing homework with, or just plain eating. When you're fresh meat n a different world, that's one environment where you always want to be in.

Going back to the topic, when I was forced to make new friends in college, it was pretty hard for me. Making friends (or interacting with strangers) isn't exactly my strong suit; IN CONTRAST to what you think you see. I mean, I hug girls and all, some really tall ones, ones so tall I get suffocated in their... hello Gaby Santos. Or those people I randomly hug while walking. That's different. It's been four years since I had to make new friends, and trust me, even four years ago, it wasn't that easy... hello Mia, Athena, and all the other Eme people! 

You see, interacting with strangers requires risk taking, and that's not really something I like doing. Maybe it's because I know that I make the wrong choices, even with people. So either I keep interaction to the barest minimum that qualifies as civil, or just make friends with a core group, and stick with that group without expanding. Which is what I've done in some cases.

But still, there are times that I do reach out to other people, be friends with them. I don't know. Something... attracts me to them. I don't know what, I don't know why. It just happens. So I reach out, and make sure they know I care. That I wanna be friends.

Then I get no response.

Sometimes, I feeling I'm giving my attention, my trust, my friendship, my time to the wrong people. And everything just gets wasted because nothing comes out of it. 

Then, you feel alone. Even when you're surrounded by everyone you care about.


 I studied in a Catholic school for elementary. Contrary to what you guys might have guessed from the way I act now, I was actually good in our Christian Living subject. I even got awards, actually. So, from there, I had a pretty good idea of what sin was by what it wasn't. 

Then, I grew up.

The though of sin being something negative slowly faded away. Things stopped being "right", or "wrong", but they just became "socially acceptable" and "socially unacceptable". Things you talk about, and things you don't. But even those distinctions blurred and formed a grey area. When I was in Pisay, I was really close with the people I hang out with, and I'm not really known for being careful with the words I use, so taboo words became less taboo and more everyday. Shouting "PENIS" doesn't shock anyone, nor does calling people "bitch" make them angry.

Then, I got exposed to hedonism, making life worth it, De Sade, pleasure things, all those weird stuff. Saw more things, thought about more things, expanded my horizons, and thought about things a little bit more. So...

What makes a sin a sin?

Are there points of view that make this sin NOT a sin?

If so, does that still count as a sin?

Are there sins that, no matter which way you look at it, remain a sin?

What 'thing' in sins make them negative no matter how you look at them?

Should all activities with that quality be considered a sin?

Do those activities even exist?

Is there even such a thing as 'sin'?

Or is it just something we made up?

Why would we make up such a thing?

Was it necessary to create such a concept?

Is it useful to society? Or does it hinder its growth?

I give in to sin because we have to make this life livable.

Why I'll Never Get Drunk

  1.  Other than wines, I don't really like the taste of alcoholic beverages.
  2. Drinking is more of a social thing to me.
  3. I don't drown my emotions with alcohol.
  4. I'll only drink if someone else is drinking.
  5. I've seen my friends drunk; don't wanna see that happen to me.