06 July 2008

morning class

there are people who will forever remain 16 years old no matter how many times they celebrate their birthdays. some of these people would find themselves in graduate school. they will try to earn a masters in creative writing and force the universe to put them under the tutelege of the best authors in this God Forsaken Side of the World.

carl is one such person. juggling time between school, career (which seems to be headed nowhere), friends, booze, vices and life in general, he would always sign up for morning saturday classes.

one particular early morning saturday class, which he atteneded practically straight from another nigh-out-about-town-i-don't-care-about-anything-give-me-more-booze kind of thing, he was confronted with a question. it went something like "someone who has everything, someone who has no problems, would that person be able to produce art?"

yes, he said. yes, he said with conviction. without batting an eyelash, he said "yes" - that single word sliding off his lips even before the imaginary question mark which rose from the proffessor's tongue and hovered about the conference room could evaporate. now, he may have said a lot of things to make his argument. that someone who had everything had so much at stake. that someone who does not have to worry about the next meal does have the time to ruminate. all these reasons were easy to refute. and so they were.

16 years old: not hungry, not naked, not homeless.

and then things happen.

(insert series of events here)

so it is only now that he realizes why his answer was right. because what he should have said was that in the end, it is all about feeling worthy of everything. it is about feeling deserving of anything, of nothing, or in some cases, of anyone.

posted by carl at 11:45 PM
2 message(s)

24 January 2008

Somewhere In The Middle

I was out the other day
and I saw you in your big black car
and I was waving as you were passing
cause I know who you are
you had this look that of an angel
it was such a bad disguise
did you think for second I would not realize

tripping hard falling down onto the ground
cause I can't stand up
and I can't fall down
cause I'm somewhere in the middle of this

I was out the other night
and I saw you so we had a fight
it was late and I was lonely
and its such a long way home
so I asked you if you'd join me
for a single last call drink
so you turned and bought us 2
and you didn't even blink
you had this look that of an angel
it was such a bad disguise
when you drink it makes you angry
when I drink I want you more and more and more

tripping hard falling down onto the ground
cause I can't stand up
and I can't fall down
and I'm somewhere in the middle of this

well I find it hard
I always tried to find the sane life
but I don't like the way things are
and I keep falling to my knees
somewhere in the middle of this

(by Dishwalla)

posted by carl at 4:45 PM
2 message(s)

10 December 2007

my story.

I feel the beginnings of a story. They are squeezed in the gaps between my nails and my skin. When I let the tips of my fingers touch, I feel faint jolts trying to push their way out of my body. I uncannily leave traces. Wisps of narrative glow, scratched off on the surface of my bed. Streaks. On the skin of my groin, dripping off from hair. Puddles. Uncollected sentiments and hints of feelings end up tucked under the dark creases of my sheets. When I get up, I pretend that they’re not there.

posted by carl at 12:56 PM
1 message(s)

21 November 2007

hey there emilio

i swear! i saw emilio estevez in ocean's 16.

posted by carl at 11:24 AM
1 message(s)

17 September 2007

The Tenth Attempt Number Ten

Let me try - let me try again, as i have been doing so over and over and over. For in this expedition to discover me, i have harvested nothing other than false hopes and traded everything else for regret. This is me typing, no, this is me ranting. To myself, to you, to no one, to everyone of us tired of hearing the thud that reverberates from a body slapping unto the ground.


posted by carl at 3:02 PM
2 message(s)

05 September 2007

oh wow

i should be writing about my cebu trip. how i had nasal decongestion in the middle of the stay and how it felt when all the the mucus went hello-hello when the freakin airplane landed.

but no.

i just have to stop and take few moments to coronate the undisputed Pasaway of the philippines, transcending all categories.

this award goes to wowowee for not even getting the "r" word (reformat) inspite of it causing the death of almost 100 poor fans, of its host being involved in scnadals mostly of the sexual sort (including wife beating, harassment of cohosts and dancers etc etc) and now, in spite of its booboo as it broadcasted live - cheating cheaters. technical flaw? nope, human error.

posted by carl at 2:41 PM
1 message(s)

30 August 2007

why am i not packing yet?

in a few hours, i will be flying to cebu. i should be getting ready. but noooooo. im here in front of the computer (in the office) overanalyzing things.

like for one: why i haven't been writing lately.

another: why my career hasn't taken off yet. (the one that i've already started and the one i long to start)

yet another: why my writing hasn't been the sort i'd read. (why, why, why)

i just attended the agency of the year awards and this came up in two acceptance speeches: "It pays to wait."

up to when??? gah.

i'm probably just making an excuse to be dramatic again.

posted by carl at 8:44 PM
2 message(s)