Wednesday, May 12, 2010

You're no different

Warning: Contains drama hidden in unusual words.

"You can try your best to keep me stuck to the floor but whatever you say won't keep me down."

Have a pinch of reality you obnoxious blind sighted piece of vile. You're no different from the infected flock. You're just like them, hypocritical, insane, and a disclaimer of the factualness.

Claim me as the patron saint of fiasco, the perjurer. Chafe me of my halcyon if you dare but I caution you, I have enough equanimity to last for quite some time. But in the end, you will never win on keeping me chapfallen.

I never carried out propositions that I have never comprehended. So I'm fully aware of my actions and I never regret a single portion of it. If you claim that I was a kook for omitting you, then let it be so rather than let me masquerade such a welcoming face until god knows when.

Short but informing is what I say. If you catch my drift, then I give you an audience worth of applause.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Before the Worst..

Alright, summer classes has officially began and I'm pretty sure I'll forget to write here once lectures start to get busy. So before I forget what day it is, I just like to say that I do have a story to write now. It's under progress and still on some yellow papers (more like 1 paper). Anyway, I don't know when will that be finished since I'm always lazy and of course a little bit of school everyday. Mostly lazy though.

As for the promised story, I'm not sharing any plots for now since I have a lot of plots on mind. All I can say is that it's about a lost and found love. Well sorry if it's about love. What can I do? I'm in love.

I know we all have different tastes in music so please bear with me if you hate the songs I "currently" love. This list is not arranged in any specific order. You'll probably won't ask me why I love these songs so I won't put any explanations why. Oh yeah, I'll also be adding some old tracks I used to love that I learned to love again.

1. Before The Worst by The Script

2. Breakeven by The Script

3. An Anthem For The Young At Heart by Amber Pacific

4. Everything's Magic by Angels & Airwaves

5. Stars by Callalily

Magbalik by Callalily

7. Belle Of The Boulevard by Dashboard Confessional

8. The Motions by Dashboard Confessional

9. Stolen feat. Juli by Dashboard Confessional

10. With A Smile by Eraserheads

11. Crush Crush Faint by Linkin Park & Paramore Mashup

12. My Last Semester by The Wonder Years

13. King Of Wishful Thinking by New Found Glory

14. Do Or Die by Forever The Sickest Kids

15. Anywhere But Here by Mayday Parade


I still have lots but I didn't put them up since they would probably take me hours to put up all of them. :)

Sunday, April 11, 2010


I wrote this story months ago. It was supposed to be a school work a friend of mine begged for me to do for his English class or something. Anyways, I've thought maybe some of you wanted to read this. This has no title I'm afraid for I had no idea on what title should I use at the time of writing. Enjoy and leave a comment if you want.

It was 2 in the afternoon and the sun was at its peak. Clean air has now been turned to the darkest smog. The once blue sky has now been turned into the bloodiest reflections. Corpses filled the road as I made my way to the only safe haven possible, the church. I saw not just one but thousands weep for their loved ones. I saw children frolicking in the church playground, not giving a care on how close death is. When I turn to the priest, he always gave a smile that tells us that everything will be alright but we all know that even he is losing faith at the almighty lord himself. For us, living in the middle of the war zone is like living in a hellhole. We live in a scenario wherein death is always behind us looking for his victim to take with him. Our riches, our homes, our trivial pursuits, we have left them all just to survive. All that we have now is our rations and our backs and a hope that rescue will come and take us away from this hellhole.

To keep us from thinking on how and when are we going to die, the priest always leaded prayers that would last for hours depending on how long will bullets fly. As we prayed for our lives, we could hear the radio operator proclaiming the same announcements over and over again. He keeps saying that there are still people left here wishing that a rescue would come. As we continued praying, the operator slammed the table with fury sending all papers in the sky. The priest gave the operator one of his famous smiles that seems to destroy any feeling of worry or fear. The operator surprisingly calmed down and quickly gathered the scattered papers and continued in summoning a rescue. While continuing with our prayers, explosions started erupting around us. The children started crying out loud while their mothers prayed like tomorrow will never come. Fathers kept their composure to show off their bravado but panicked like little children afterwards. I turned to the priest hoping that he will give me his famous calming smiles. To my surprise, he was on his knees in front of the large cross and kept on murmuring something that only he seemed to understand. I myself panicked and ran for covers under the tables and covered my ears hoping that the ringing explosions would stop. In the midst of our panicking, a child stood proud in front of the church doors and kept screaming at the area to stop with the continuous explosions. Surprisingly, the ringing explosions stopped and everything went calm once more. The priest has returned to his smiling old self and everyone returned to their daily duties like nothing have happened. The once proud child has disappeared from our sight and was never again found. The time now was 11 in the evening signaling that it was time for bed. The night was specially calm and silent. No bullets flew nor bombs exploding around us. For the first time in our life in this hellhole, we finally had a peaceful sleep.

It was 8 in the morning and we we’re woken up by grumbling children. As part of the survivors, I was forced to help serve breakfast to the others. As I boiled water in the large pot, the radio suddenly gave a loud buzz immediately calling all of our attention. The voices on the other line were hard to understand because of all the interference but the operator managed to decode the transmission. Once the transmission had ended, the operator slammed the table once more and tears fell down his eyes. The operator turned to all of us with a look of despair. He told us what the transmission contained into three words “Rescue is impossible”. We all lost hope. The operator told us that we we’re at the very middle of the war zone. Ergo, no soldier had the guts to charge in and save us all from death. The priest suddenly popped out from nowhere and suggested that we should just leave this hellhole and head for somewhere safe. The operator suggested that we should head for the hills since the closest military base is there. We all knew that our chance of surviving the journey was a long shot but we we’re out of options so we all agreed. All of us didn’t know that the journey ahead would end up killing us all in an instant.

The time was 1 in the afternoon and everything was packed. The journey towards the hill was exactly a 3 hour walk from the church. All of us we’re exactly 20 people including me. As we all made our way through the streets, the priest held his rosary tightly and prayed hard as he could. Some of the mothers tried to pray with him but it seems that the priest didn’t give any attention to them. Continuing our walk down the streets, we could see dozens of corpses around us. Tanks, guns, ammo, med kits, they we’re everywhere but no sign of life even showed up. The smell of death was horrid. If there was anything alive besides us, it would be the flies gathering around the rotting corpses. I and other children were ordered to close our eyes to avoid us from seeing the complete horrors of war. I couldn’t see a thing and when I try to peek, one of the mothers would immediately grab my hand and cover my eyes again. All I know is that the smell was too horrid too describe.

After a while, they finally told us to open our eyes. The scenery now is cleaner than before. We couldn’t see a single corpse lying around the streets. There we’re no instruments of war standing in the streets to strike us with fear. There was nothing, just a continuous silence a constant fear that something might pop out from nowhere and kill us all. Still, we continued with our journey which was only half an hour left. We we’re at the very entrance of town and we looked back one last time to our former homes which is now nothing but ashes. Tears ran down from our eyes while bidding farewell to our homes. We continued with our walking. We started to get more anxious since we we’re close to our destination. Suddenly, the operator screamed with joy and started pointing at a military base camp not far from here. The proud child from yesterday suddenly popped out from behind us and screamed at us to stop. We all looked back at him with anger and asked why. His answer was cold as any ice can be. “You all are walking towards your final destination”. All of us except for me laughed out loud while continuing with our walk. The boy walked back to town but I tried to chase him to tell him to come with us. While chasing him, he suddenly went in a corner and disappeared in an instant. Asking myself on how it happened, I ran back to the others to tell them what happened. When I finally chased up with the others, all of them we’re dead on the spot. The priest, the operator, fathers, mothers, children, all of them we’re dead. I looked at the perpetrators only to see a bunch of soldiers aiming their rifles at me. It seemed that the operator had led us to the enemy military base camp wherein they are all full of merciless killers. I was down on my knees crying for my life until a soldier walked towards me. He then took out a pistol and shot me at point blank.

And this is our tale. We should have followed the child’s advice and turn back but we let our own feelings took over the best of us and led us to our own bloody grave.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

A Guy's Lament

Firstly, I apologize for my absence from writing. I'll try to make it up to you guys.

This is dedicated to all the "Nice Guys" who never get anything more from girls than a river of tears..

Ladies, we need to talk. We're the nice guys, the guy friends you turn to when the hottie from South Quad shatters your sophomore heart all over the Theta Xi dance florr, when "boys suck" or when he doesn't understand that living in different area codes does not constitute cheating. We've dried your tears, listened to you whine and told you it was all going to be ok. Well, we're done fitting the "Nice Guys Finish Last" stereotype. We've gotten together and decided on a few things:

First, we are sick and tired of listening to you cry, and simultaneously losing out in the girl department. How many times have we listened to you mope about finding "a nice boy who will treat me with respect," when we're standing here in front of you? Oh yeah, that's right, because you wouldn't want to "mess things up." That's the biggest bunch of crap we've ever heard. Maybe if we were as muscled and refined as Mr. Frat Boy, you'd give us a second look. Well, you know what, missy? Not all of life is like a soap opera. How long do you expect us just to sit here and listen to your life tragedies and not fall for you? Are you that blind? We are sick of being just another "girl" friend.

Secondly, cut the crap. We know what you mean; if you want us to go away for a while, tell us so. Don't lie and say it's "girl's night out." This is crap, because the minute you see a hot guy, you're suddenly "on the prowl." At least we guys are straightforward: we're either "on the prowl" or playing poker; those are our two modes. Also, if you don't like us, say so. None of this "Let's just be really good friends" malarkey; this translates from girl language to, "I'm sorry, but you're just really ugly." If we don't ask you on a date, it is because we are intimidated by you; don't make us any more nervous or anxious by rushing to be our "friend" when we like you.

Finally, if the guy are with is treating you like crap, LEAVE HIM. I know you don't want to because he is hot, in Beta, and has the "prettiest blue eyes," but HE IS A SCUM BAG. You need to wake up and see that he is a jerk. He will not get better. He will not change. We are experts in empathy (reading people), and know that people, for the most part, do not change. If he stands you up routinely, yells at you, or cheats on you, he ALWAYS WILL. Just as he will always do these things, you will always go back to him. It is like clockwork. He will effectively own you, and treat you badly, and we will cry for you because of it. Please do yourselves (and us) a favor, and let him go; don't save this one. I promise you, he is not THAT cute, and the sex is not THAT good. Nothing is worth getting hurt, and we nice guys really want to affix our steel-toed boots to their skinny Abercrombie asses.

All told, we want nothing more than to show you what a "good" guy is like. You know, that good guy your girlfriends tell you about. Well newsflash, ladies WE ARE THOSE "GOOD" GUYS. You are dealing with an untapped resource of quality date material, and we think we deserve our chance. You can't deny it; you always tell us how sweet we are, and how "romantic" our ideas are. Stop trying to hook us up with your peg-legged cousin from Timbuktu, we are friends with YOU, we want to show YOU the good time we can.

Unlike Mr. Muscles, we don't like you because your halter top is tight, and you looked nice under the strobe lights. We know the inner you; we know everything there is to know about you. Your innermost secrets have been shared with us. So we don't have the best dance moves and can't bench 250, so what? Who knows you better than us? Who can you trust with everything? That's right, ladies, us. The Nice Guys. The "boys." This ultimately leads to the question, what are you doing Saturday night?"

Play safe, play hard, and play often!

"Women cannot complain anymore about men untill
they start showing better taste in them." -- Bill Maher


This was originally published in some other place by a guy named Matt.
I have taken the liberty of helping to distribute it to all guys/girls

Monday, February 1, 2010

Senseless as it may seem

This will make no sense as to what am I about to say for I am only ventilating every random stocked up thoughts gathered up inside this mind of mine. You might as well stop reading right now if you want.

Watching years pass by, seeing those young faces turn into unbelievable sights. Innocence killed by the very truth of the world. From singing the always famous children songs to the stereotyped tracks of today. It’s a nuisance when these memoirs attack my mind as if Napoleon is strategizing this invasion. But what can I do? It’s here and it’ll always stay and I’ll have it no other way.

Putting everything else aside, why do we always wish to go back in time to that specific moment where that tiny part of our lives changed the rest of the years to come? What if it was possible? Then second chances will be a thing of the past since you can practically repeat everything at your whim. Made a mistake? No problem. Just a few presses here and there and we’re back at time to fix that little problem of yours.

If you we’re the only intelligent human on earth and the rest of humanity we’re dumb as bricks, would you accept it knowing for a fact that only you will understand and appreciate the babbles that you concoct? On a plus side, you will be undeniably claimed as the smartest human in the face of this planet.

Love… What is this sizzling word? Its literal meaning is worth at most 1 to 2 sentences and yet others can write a novel that portrays their definition of this word. Can it really move mountains? Can it really make the impossible happen? If so, then can it make a time machine?

Why must I always be driven to deep thoughts from time to time? They surely don’t need any remembering for they are more of failures than victories. Failures, fears, irrational acts, wrong decisions that made huge effects, pride over everything else, I remember them most. It brings up a pain on a mental sense. Obviously, I still have not moved over them that much as I thought. Though, I still hope for the day that I truly go pass them.

Doesn’t it feel good being praised? But when criticized, you simply ignore it or worse, contradict it with your own ideas that you think is right and make a definite point that their criticism is wrong. So what’s the point for correction if that very mistake you cannot seem to accept?

Death. The word never really gave me that special reaction. It’s more of saying “what’s new”. I mean everyone inevitably ceases to exist at some point in time. The news, the chit chat overheard from the neighbors, the very scene outside your house, it’s everywhere. It’s clich├ęd. In my own sense that is.

Night. Now this word I appreciate most. The peace it gives. The sudden change in climate that gives you comfort or maybe chills. The sounds you hear that will never occur when the sun is up. It’s always the perfect scene for every romantic film. Lovers intertwined under the starry blue mooned sky. As for me, I tend to get more interested in scribbling down everything I thought up. Regardless if it’s senseless or full of hidden messages that will never be decoded that will only be claimed preposterous according to the perception of others.