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Friday, December 31, 2010

Merci Beacoup│Arigatou│Grazie│Tosha│Thank you│Salamat

I don’t know how or what to write for a year-end post. The lists are coming. Reflections are innate. 2010 may not have been really kind after-all but it sure is as helluvah meister teacher. I thank the leaving year.

I would’ve thanked my family and friends here but who are we kidding? As if they’re gonna read this. So allow me to just thank a few people here who made my blogging days quite a journey.

To McVie, Master Mu[g]en, and Soltero, you were the firsts to follow and comment on my blog entries. Kasalanan ninyo kung bakit marame-rame na rin ang nakakakilala kay DB ngayon. Hehe. Maraming maraming salamat sa inyong tatlo. Kayo ang nagbukas ng mga pinto patungo dito sa aking tahanan.


Kay Jay, na siyang nagging mitsa ng pagba-blog ni Desole Boy. Lubos akong nagpapasalamat dahil naging tapat ka una pa lang na katawan ko lang talaga ang habol mo. Chos! Haha. At least, nasaktan man ako at ganun mo na lang ako binalewala pagkatapos, hindi mo naman ako talaga pinaasa. You made me feel soooo special in your arms during those 6 hours in a motel. =p

To my idols in writing who continuously inspire me to thread words of adventures and of failures, of dreams and of nightmares and of triumphs and frustrations, Kane, Red the Mod, my brother “twin-soul” Alterjon at lalo’t higit sa mga blog na binabasa ko noon pa mang hindi pa ako blogger [ayan trivia yan] Daddy Kuri, Baklang Maton, muli si Master Mu[g]en, Aris at si Popoy Inosentes . Salamat. Salamat. 

Kay Doc Ced at kay JP, the only living souls who saw the real person behind the mask of Desole Boy. Thank you guys! [Madagdagan kaya sila? We’ll see.]

Sa inaanak kong si Pipo [inaanak na kasing-edad ko naman] salamat sa mga payo and words of encouragement! Idedeliver ko personally yung gift, I promise!

Salamat din sa makukulit na posts ni Nimmy, kulitan with Ceiboh/ Kiko, at yung dalawang crush ko dito sa blogosphere na yung isa ay kumpirmadong straight at yung isa eh pinag-aaralan ko pa rin at sinesurvey hanggang ngayon [his passion for fashion is a huge hint, but we'll see].

Gusto ko din pasalamatan ang mga dumating na bagyo dahil ang dame nila. You all made me feel like Superman! A f*ckin hot and fabulous Superman!

Sa mga nasaling ng aking pagsusulat [noli me tangere, gagah!], kung meron man kayong hindi nagustuhan, sa mga nasaktan at napikon sa mga pagbibiro ko [dito man sa blog o sa twitter] humihingi ako ng paumanhin. Gayundin sa mga naumay sa kadramahan ko, alam kong marami-rami kayo, pasensya na rin at salamat dahil patuloy pa rin kayong bumabalik. 

At sa mahigit na isandaang madlang-people sumusubaybay sa mga kwento ko at kwento ng mga taong nakikilala ko, you guys own Desole Boy! He’s all yours coz you guys are one of the reasons why he’s still here. That’s why I promise to be more reachable this year [feeling artista? tseh!]. 'Di na ko magiging mailap. Pangako yan. 

I’m not going to wish for a better year. I only pray for hope, courage and the ability to trust. The last one, I know, would be a real struggle considering all the shenanigans that drowned me the past year. But I’ll get there. I’m working on it.

Hangad ko ang kapayapaan at pagkakaisa sa ‘ting lahat dito. Hangad ko ang kapatawaran at paghilom sa lahat ng mga nasaktan ng nagdaang taon. Hangad ko ang mas marami pang pakikipagkaibigan at pakikipagkwentuhan sa inyong lahat.

So let me propose a toast, raise your glasses [if you don’t have then your pinky will do] and cheers!

To freedom!





A HOPEFUL NEW YEAR TO ALL OF YOU!





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Wednesday, December 29, 2010

The Boy Who [Will] Kick the Hornet's Nest

Should I sing to you the 12 Days of Christmas, but no, there were only four but hopefully would turn out five, six, seven…whatever. And so it goes...

Day 1 –a jamming session with few cousins, neighbors and the new barangay captain who made my uncle the “justice something” which entitles him for a few penny as salary every month. The session ended still with my head held high. Johnny Walker failed to seduce me.

Day 2 – an invitation was received from high school barkada which includes a lengthy reminder that through the years since we part ways, I’ve missed most of the gatherings. By the end, I was too high droppin’ my pants kissing boys and girls left and right. Yeah, it‘s not only Miley Cyrus who could use some bong.

Day 3 – there was already a light disturbance in my head and in my stomach but the party shouldn’t stop. Some friends brought me to a few gimik spots in Bulacan which in my years of being Bulakenyo weren’t ever explored. The morning after, I went home with a slight hangover then went to my lolo’s grave for a few chat where I met this massive snake crawling towards me as I was crouching on the ground.

Day 4 – the most important of all night of alcohol and nicotine abuse, where my bestest friends and I jaunted 3 bars at one night for the so-called drowning of frustrations and “teenage angsts.” The plan went well for two of our members not to go get drunk [since they were the ones who are successful in their venture on romance] and pull the remaining 9 members who are either trying to lie down on the street or too busy trying to snatch the guard’s whistle. 
___

One blogger pointed out how bad my situation is doing these strings of drinking sessions and reminded me of the dangers it imposes on my health especially my gastronomical dilemmas.

Of course I am well aware of that. While the words of advices are well appreciated, I think my intelligence is enough for me to know what could hurt me and what cannot. I am f*cking awesome, you all know that.

First and most important point: I AM NOT DOING IT TO DESTROY MYSELF AND NEITHER FOR SOME [G]ODDAMN PERSON WHO CAUSED ME TEARS AND RESENTMENTS.

I am f*cking young and beautiful! And that gives me every right to do whatever the f*ck I want provided that I am taking care of my own shits and spending my own money.

Second, I am not in some weird-rebellious-drama-queen-period. Because after a long stretch of time, I WAS HAVING FUN! F*ck all the questions and f*ck all the reasons.

Lastly, I owe nobody any explanation! I can kill myself and nobody would care. Or should care. I don’t need any bastard to take good care me. So move your ass and scram!

The coming year, I know, is for me. And not because the Chinese Astrology would pay tribute to us born under the sign of Rabbit, but because I demanded it to. I demanded the stars and the planets to line themselves in favor of me, a mighty demigod. I demanded the Earth to spin progressively. I demanded Satan to bathe in the bloods of my enemies and the many other fallen angels who did not survive, unlike me.

The seven seas would be conquered and the mountains are to bow their heads. The gods and goddesses would laud this warrior and would take him in his rightful place. It is time to take what’s rightfully mine and for the tables to turn. The victim is now to fight back!

And as the great Captain Jack Sparrow always say: take what you can, give nothing back!


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Thursday, December 23, 2010

Christmas of Freedom

what is Christmas after all?
what does it really mean to someone like me?
and to you, dear love of mine?
how far am i from the joy you now have?
how near to your heart
that new being in your arms?

once again, memories would drown me
the woven thoughts that are left to ponder. 
in my confusion
in my pain
alone
i face the emptiness.

i look ahead and saw a path
dark, cold,
desolate
silent.
how could a healer fail
to heave
my wrecked dying heart?

        Should I write more sonnets to summon you dear?
        Should I pierce my chest to prove my love to thee ?

oh, the fragility of my youth
how could my feeble mind betray thee?

look, this body of mine is sworn
only to the delight of your soul.

how much this Christmas will reveal
the depth of space running between us?
oh, when will your faith
ever come to fill mine?

        The Christmas of freedom
        will come in time.

The concept of "Christmas of Freedom" is adapted from Maria Abulencia's poem
"Wounded Star"


This is for you, whoever you are. Lol. Di po nagdadrama si DB. Kasi naman nabobore na ko sa mga tao dito ayaw naman ako pauwiin. 'Yan di ko namalayan nakasulat na 'ko ng tula. Mas pagtuunan nyo na lang ng pansin yung artistic components 'wag na yung mga kaechosang drama, okay? Lol. 

Happy Christmas! Bukas at sa 25 batiin ko pa kayong lahat. 


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Tuesday, December 21, 2010

The Untitled Conversation

Bes: Kala ko ba ‘di ka na nag-iisip tungkol sa mga ganyan.
Me: Paminsan-minsan. Lalo pag nasa bus.
Bes: In almost 6 years na magkakaibigan tayo isa lang naman ang may lovelife sa ‘ten.
Me: Yeah right, si Coco. Ever since naman eh.
Bes: Maybe we’re too good for them.
Me: Or not! Bullshit!
(long pause)


Me: It’s just hard that I wasn’t just rejected. He didn’t allow me to show him how much I care for him…or yeah, how much I love him. God, I f*ckin hate that word.
Bes: But what would you want him to do? Sige nga…
(pause)
Bes: You know sometimes I think you’re just in love with the idea of being in love.
Me: And you thought of that because?
Bes: Because you’re one of the few persons I know who’s very independent. Gusto mo hawak mo lahat. Tsaka pag tinoyo ka, grabe pagka anti-social mo eh. Bigla ka na lang namumundok.
Me: Well maybe that’s why for once in my life I want someone to actually care and bother. Gusto ko na ma-experience magkajowa.
Bes: See? It’s just one of the many ideas and things you wanna try for yourself, like sleeping in a side-walk, maging barker ng jeep, maging cashier sa grocery…yung mga ganun mong idea. And you know what else I’m thinking? Tignan mo, puro yung nagugustuhan mo yung imposibleng magkagusto sa ‘yo…
Me: Tang ina gandahan mo yang sinasabi mo kundi ihahampas ko sa ‘yo ‘tong bote ng Red Horse. At bakit imposible nila ‘kong magustuhan?
Bes: Makinig ka kasi muna. Sabi ko. Parang you always want yourself hurting by the end. Gustong-gusto mong nasasaktan ka. Masokista ka Bes, alam mo yan. Sabagay lahat naman ng artist masokista. Dun kasi tayo humuhugot ng inspirasyon. I should know.
Me: Ulol! ‘Lam mo nagagaya ka na sa ‘ken. Masyadong ini-intellectualize ang mga bagay. Pero naisip mo naman siguro na 23 years old na tayo. Next year 24 na. Tanda na naten. Gusto mo bang mamatay tayo ng virgin?
Bes: Gago!
Me: Look, ikaw na lang at si Trish ang mga virgin sa girls. Ang putang Ralph naman nagpatira noong Undas. 'Tang ina, yung pwet nya ang tinirikan ng kandila. Hahaha, 
Bes: Hahahaha.
Me: Hahahaha.
(long pause)



Bes: The time for us will come, are you praying for it?
Me: Nope.
Bes: See? You’re too busy trying to save the world. Hindi lang kasi isang “jowa” ang nangangailangan sa ‘yo Bes. Maraming tao. Marami.
Me: Bes nakakapagod. What if ‘di na dumating. What if walang dumating for us?
Bes: Then we’ll be fine. We’ll be fine Bes.

Bes: Merry Christmas Bes.
Me: Merry Christmas Bes.

[It was the first time we cried in front of each other not for the reason that we’re fighting. We never talked about each other’s feelings. We never talked about our problems and the things that bother us. Usually, we’ll just sit side by side in silence and that’s it! Alam na namin pareho yun.

I did my best recalling the exact words we used and I think I did a pretty good job. I miss her so much and we rarely see each other now because of our respective impossible schedules.]

It’s goin’ to be a merry Christmas. It’s always a merry Christmas!

DBoy and his Bestfriend

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Sunday, December 19, 2010

Don't wanna party but my feet just keep tapping

Parties at ABS-CBN are to watch out for --exactly my thought 2 years ago when I joined the company. But not when I was forced to be a drag queen [don't ask for pictures coz I did my best destroying them plus a threat to sue the girl who posted them at Multiply] by the boss and represent the department and the yearly performance of Retrospect.

But there are fun moments, like last year's performance of the studio tours. Take a peek!

 

Here's my secret crush Robin. But since I'm a bitch, yeah, he knows it! =p


But this year, well not much fun. So I decided to drag some friends and go to a real party in a bar somewhere around the area.

I guess what I'm missing is the street party. It was more fun when the company would close the entire Eugenio Lopez Drive to motorists and employees would dance all night at the middle. Prices are even bigger then and the least you can get is a GC from Bench. Now, well not much. The only thing not changing are the cans of San Mig Pale Pilsen which I suspect are sponsored anyway.

It should be a time of giving and I thought as a company who advocates it we should start at our very own household first. But the idea of picketing former cameramen and technical crew just beside the high fences that separates us, I find the grand fireworks display and the thousand worth Christmas decors lucrative and ostentatious.



Merry Christmas Kapamilya!


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"I hope that our wisdom will grow with our power and teach us that the less we use our power the greater it will be."
-unknown author
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Thursday, December 16, 2010

How do you measure a man?

Jasmine Pringles 

He’s a former heartthrob. The rebel hip-hop dude the chicks swoon over upon taking the center stage. He would count girlfriends and make them fall in love with him. He too fell in love with them girls, he admitted.

One by one, the list of schools in Cavite kicked him out. He would throw chairs, kick his teachers and would often bully other kids at school. He’s the king of troublemakers.

Now he’s no more king, for the king is now a Queen – a drag queen!

The stockings hid his manly strut as the fake breasts mount his seeming confidence. The colorful wigs flash feminine flames. The long lashes twinkling to the beat of gleaming lights. Make-ups carefully orchestrated emitting majestic air.

The crowd would marvel at her moves. She now graces the stage pouring her soul out, bearing her heart in an up-beat stir. That night on that local pub she works on, Jasmine Pringles is to be known Lady Gaga. Oh yes, she is Lady Gaga!

“Itong ginagawa ko wala namang masama. Tsaka ligal naman siguro ‘to. Wala nga lang papeles.” 

His family won’t believe him. They all thought, when he showed them his video dancing in drag, he’s just doing another rebellious act to piss his family off . He was a known rebel after all. But the truth, as blinding as it may appear initially, would always be the pounding truth.

“Kahit kabaklaan ‘tong ginagawa ko, may mapupuntahan din ‘to.” 

Later on they would accept the reality that is now. The family learned to nod over his beat. Jasmine Pringles got the blessings of his family.

“Dati ang tingin ko sa mga bakla kadiri. Nakakahiya. Ngayon okay na. Bakla na din ako.” 

How do you measure a man? Is it by his dick flamboyantly hanging between his legs telling the world how mighty and proud he is? Or could it be the amount of cosmetics he dares put on his body? When is a man a real man? What is the measure of a man?

For Jasmine Pringles, without hesitation, he is a proud genuine man!

“Now that I can do whatever I want and I know who I am, I can say that I’m a man." 

"I am a man.” 










adapted from STORYLINE 

by Patricia Evangelista and Paulo Villaluna 
Chapter 1: The Making of a Man


photo credit(s) screenshots from the episode. 
no intention of copyright infringement
____


Please watch STORYLINE on ANC 
Also at ABS-CBN Channel 2 every Thursday after Bandila
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Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Creed

I believe in the power of my pen. It can slowly torture a man on his way to death but it can also feed a man, allowing him live. It can capture someone's heart yet it can squash it with some simple stroke and simple thread of words. It can create truths and twist what is lie and illusion. The pen has its power. And I own that power.

I believe in stories. I believe that every story is worth hearing, all the more that they’re worth telling. I believe that every story has an invisible bond making up a single vast narrative. I believe fairytales are no truth. I believe fables are more probable. I believe in people who declare their stories. I believe I can be a voice to those who couldn’t tell their stories. All of us have our own stories. Every person is a story.

I believe in children. I believe I’m always a child inside and out. I believe in playing in our backyard; in a vacant lot and in rice fields. I believe that Santa Claus is my neighbor and that Jesus is my classmate. I believe in little kisses living in a matchbox cushioned with cottons. I believe in “once upon a time” and is curious about “happily ever after.” Innocence is that of a child’s voice. Faith is that of a child’s eyes.

I believe in music. I believe I make beautiful music. I believe that music is an expression, an escape and a way of life. I believe in every string of my guitar. I believe in every piano key I have. I believe in Lucio San Pedro and Ely Buendia; in Freddie Mercury and in Lady Gaga. I believe in opera, in chorus and in grunge. Now who can live without music? I can’t, can you?

I don’t believe in celebrities. And I don’t believe in love. But I believe in relationships. I believe in friendship and in sex. I don’t believe in fairies but I know there are monsters, ghosts and zombies. I don’t believe in hell but I believe in few vices which make life more enduring.

I believe in the mavericks, the scavengers and vagabonds. I believe in those who do not own an iPhone, those who think that a MacBook is a burger and that a PSP is a placement agency. I won’t say no to a rugby-sniffing- boy who invites me to share his lunch but I can think of a whole host of excuses not to consent on some stupid fancy dinner. I believe being poor is a privilege. I am poor. I am privileged.

I believe in hope, the power of trust and the vulnerability of a man. I believe in truth and in many other truths. I believe in justice. I believe in courage. But above all, I believe in freedom.

I am Désolé Boy.

Writer.

Peasant.

Believer.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

iBlog Mini: Blogging About Cases, Sub Judice, and Freedom of Expression

There are a lot of cases catching the attention of bloggers today meriting discussion. However, bloggers are also warned of "sub judice" resulting to confusion on what can be blogged about and not.

In this regard, on December 14, there will be an iBlog Mini forum where the theme "Blogging About Cases, Sub Judice, and Freedom of Expression" shall be tackled. This is organized by the University of the Philippines College of Law - Internet Society Program.

Tuesday, December 14 · 3:00pm - 6:00pm

2nd Floor Conference Room, UP Law Center, Bocobo Hall, UP Diliman, Quezon City

Click [here] for more info

___

I might attend this one depending on work schedule and persuasion of some people. But I won't be there as DB so if you happen to spot me there, don't mention anything about this alter-personae of mine. Bleh!

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Thank you is never enough. But I say it anyway

NOTE: This is a religious post. Skip if you're not into this kind of stuff. 

December 8 is always marked on my calendar. I never felt ashamed of denying work, explaining to my superiors why I have to absent myself. I would always say, it's the feast of Mary's Immaculate Conception and I have commitments in the Church. 

Last Tuesday, I was rushing to find myself a new Barong Tagalog for the mass. But of course the problem is money so going to the mall is definitely out among the choices. Instead, I hailed a jeepney and traveled all the way to Divisoria to solve the dilemma. 

I settled for the one with the chinese collar and it only costs me 300 pesos. Here it is: 



I thought my business in Manila is settled but then I remembered I need to buy flowers for the altar at home. So I jaunted from Divisoria to Dang Hua. You see, I acquired this image of the Immaculate Concepcion from my first salary working for ABS-CBN and so I am now in my third year as a recamadero (a term used to refer to a person who is an owner and keeper of an image)



So then, the mass at the Cathedral is officiated by our bishop together with the entire clergy of our Diocese. Here are few of my shots. 

The main altar of the Minor Basilica and Cathedral

Processional I
Processional II

Hermanos Mayores


The Priests of our Diocese


Our Bishop, City Mayor, Hermanos Mayores and the Comite de Festejos

This year of celebration of the Immaculate Concepcion is a huge thanksgiving for me. I always say this to people, "lumaki man ako na walang tatay, binigyan naman ako ng Diyos ng tatlong ina: my birth mother, my lola, and my mother in Heaven, Mary. 

You guys knew that I acquired Dengue last September. Yesterday my mother told me that when I was in hospital and she went home to get new clothes, she saw my rosary on my bedside table. She grabbed it and before she went back to the hospital, she paid a visit at the Cathedral. She told me, she knelt down facing the image of the Virgin Mary and she prayed: tulungan nyo naman po yung anak ninyo, nahihirapan na siya. 

Days after, September 8, the so-called birthday of the Virgin Mary, I was released from the hospital and was finally allowed to go home. 

I knew all the things I did and is doing were never enough to express how grateful I am. The year may not have been a good year for romance, finances etc., but I think narrowly escaping death twice is more than enough to say, indeed I am blessed. 

Times are tough but the thought of these special women of my life all praying for me is comforting enough. After all, I'm still one hell of a lucky a guy, don't you think?!


___
"O clemens. O Pia. O dulcis."
-Salve Regina

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Maria

Maria, 
Your sweet eyes, I love to stare at
That sweet face I adore, I long for
No twelve stars can even compare, 
Nor the moon, crushed under thy feet
For that beauty, so sweet
So sweet Maria.

Maria, 
Your breath blew with tenderness
Softness incomparable
Touched by thy hands and
I am lifted, swayed gently
For you are heavenly,
Indeed heavenly Maria. 

[My entry, 2009 Marian Songwriting Competition]
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Monday, December 6, 2010

Once a 16 year old and a college dude

An old memory visited.

I was crouched on my bed watching Glee and the boys from Dalton Academy performed their version of Hey Soul Sister.

It took me back 7 years ago when I met this guy, 'twas 2003. I was a young 16 year old junior high school virgin, not really clueless but still indistinct with his sexuality. He on the other hand was about 20 to 21 years old in his senior year in college.

Here's how we've met.

It is, once again, a music competition and he was a member of an all male choir group of a College somewhere in Manila. I first saw him at the hotel's swimming pool where the delegates are staying. Funny that I can still picture him in my head even up to now. About the same height as I am now, 5'7, he's wearing red shorts and was naked from waist above. He wears dental braces and his hairstyle was the same with Jordan Herrera that time the Rexona commercial was hitting the air waives.

I was eyeing him for no definite reason. I thought I was just fascinated because he swims really well. But now that I'm not as "clueless" as I was, I think I was attracted then.

We were alone at the pool and finally, after a few more laps, he approached my by asking if I was also a delegate coz I'm clutching a music sheet that time. I stuttered as I answer yes to his question. The idea of a college dude talking to me was so disconcerting then.

 So that's how the conversation begun and we basically just talk about music before moving into something more personal.

He told me anecdotes of their concerts and other performances and basically life as a college student. He was kinda giving me a lecture about college life and asked what school I'm planning to attend after graudation. I told him how I was against the idea of my father sending me on a private institution for engineering students and that I just want to settle for a state university either in Diliman or in Manila. At that point he stared at me smiling then ruffled my hair. He stood up and asked me if I can come with him for a rinse.

So I agreed without the slightest malice and went with him at the shower area. But to disappoint you guys, nothing happened.

I just stayed outside the cubicle and the conversation continued. He dried himself up, caught glimpse of him in his underwear then we left the shower area with his hands on my shoulders.

He brought me to his hotel room afterwards but then again nothing happened and he just introduced me to his choirmates. When the time came for me to go to attend our rehearsals he simply just bade me goodbye. As I was heading towards the elevator, I heard him yelled my name and when I turned to look at his direction, I saw him grinning. He winked at me for the last time then entered his room in time that the elevator bell dings.

The last time I saw him was their performance night. I wish I could let you guys listen to their group's rendition of "Hard To Say I'm Sorry" and "Sana Maulit Muli" coz now that I recall them I feel like I can still hear them, him,  like it was yesterday. The only difference is that now I have this fantasy of him serenading me.

With memories of him now coming back, I remember the lines from the movie Kahit Konting Pagtingin.

Sharon: Ang problema sa 'yo, maaga kang ipinanganak.
FPJ: Ang problema naman sa 'yo, huli kang ipinanganak. 

I searched for him at Facebook but couldn't find him. I saw that one of his batchmates on the choir is now a member of the country's most prominent chorale group. But I haven't got a clue as to where he is now.

I wish I have the technology that I have now during those times. I wish I wasn't a late bloomer. Maybe if I'm not that young that time the story would've been different. I must confess I slightly wish now that he took advantage of me then.

Anyway, it's just another memory. Maybe tomorrow I'll get to remember a different one. Or would it be better if I make a new one?

His group's photo from the competition's souvenir program 



___
P.S.
Call it a strategy but I know you'll remember me if you ever happen to come across here. You were nice, I hope you know that.

___
"It doesn't matter if we will meet again. It doesn't matter if you will remember me. I just want to tell you a secret --- I love you."
-Lu Xiao Yu, Secret
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Friday, December 3, 2010

Deceptions



Deceptive Cadence is a chord progression that seems to lead to resolving itself on the final chord; but 
does not. 
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Thursday, December 2, 2010

Absurdities

Those pointless equations to which no solutions exists are called absurdities.




Chapter 3 Epigraph
THE GIRL WHO PLAYED WITH FIRE
by Stieg Larsson

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Si Heidi, Si Ivy at si V


I'm inviting you all to please watch this film written by Wanggo Gallaga and directed by Neal Tan. A perfect duo to provide an inspiring and educating material in aid of an advocacy to promote awareness within Filipino audience. Premieres today, December 1, 2010, coinciding with World AIDS Day, at Robinsons Galleria.
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photo credit: http://www.positivism.ph/
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Also, visit Theorgy blog and read among entries condemning DISCRIMINATION concerning LGBT sector.

Click [here] for my contribution. Thank you.
 

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