The day after disaster

And so the storm has passed
Faces of pain and anguish fill the ravaged scenery
Lifeless corpses float along the river
And as we look at the once beautiful scene, tears run down our eyes

We ask why
Why did it have to be them?
Out of the millions remaining, why them?
Why didn't you just take us instead?

There's nothing else to be done
The dead is dead and it's final
No amount of tears can change that
And no kind of suffering will help fix this

What's left to do is face everything with optimism
Sure the dead is dead but there are plenty of living victims who need you more
Victims who faced the storm head on
Victims who managed to outwit death itself

We may feel comfy in the haven of our own homes
But do we realize how many people lost everything?
Not just material possessions but fellow loved ones
And yet we feel joyful just because classes are suspended

How shameful of us
Not something to be proud of but something worth changing
So stop slacking and start acting
Now's the time to put our worth to the test

Rants, rants, & rants.

Ranging from preschool up to now, I've been called various names.
Some of those names, I curse beyond my grade.
Some of them, I tend to put interest in by actually using it.

Have you ever been called an idiot?
It's irritating. No?
But what's humorous about it is the fact that it doesn't bother you at all when you pertain that word to yourself.
I can call myself an idiot all day long and yet it doesn't bother me.
But if someone tries to criticize me of being an idiot, I swear I'll make you regret saying that word in front of me.
One thing that I always seem to see is that no matter how dumb you may be, there will always be someone dumber than you. That's only my opinion but I'm starting to believe that it has some truth in it.

On to the next rant.

Have you ever noticed that some of the people tend to befriend someone smarter than them?
Or maybe you see a group of people composing of intellectuals?
I used to ponder about that ever since elementary years.
And now I finally have an answer.
Intellectuals tend to stick to people who are either dumber, or as smart as them because of these reasons.
First, if they stick to dumber people, they will feel a sense of superiority over them.
Second, if they stick to people as smart as them, they'll be able to compete with them or communicate at the same level of mentality.
But the left out has a reason too for sticking to intellectuals.
If they stick to someone smarter, they also feel a sense of being intelligent because they spend time with someone of a superior mentality.
I say that's shit.
The only reason we stick to geniuses is to copy of their work.
I don't give a damn even if they bled to death by figuring out the results.
I'm sorry but that's just how it goes.
And goes the saying "Hindi mo kailangan maging matalino, kailangan mo lang maging mautak"

One last ranting before I get flamed by people who hates my very existence.

In the past few weeks, I was called a gay.
It first started with my nephew who called me that just because of my hair.
I didn't really mind it back then because he was always jealous of me having long hair.
Up to now, he keeps calling me that. Remind me to strangle him to death after a few years.
A few weeks later and another person called me gay.
No, it wasn't another relative.
It was from a friend, a close bitchy greedy friend.
It maybe because she was drunk when she told me this. Either way, our conversation still kept me thinking.
Not about because she called me gay but about what I had to do to prove I'm not.
Oh forget it, this will get me nowhere..

Parler à un état d'ébriété est inutile

Au diable ce

Normally, I don't type in French.

But tonight, I feel an urge to type some random thoughts in a language I don't even speak.

Je déteste le tartre.

I hate it more than any self possessed tramp that ever crossed path with me.

I hate it more than that worthless person who shared blood with me.

Je voudrais être un génie.

It's such a burden trying to dig all this information and yet no kind of treasure of knowledge fuses with your mind.

I spent hours trying to decode all this confusing ideas/equations/thoughts/theorems and yet I never get square one.

If only I can absorb everything a book contained. Like having a connection with a book through telepathy.

Or better yet, if only I had the ability to absorb another person's brain. That would be so amazing and horrific at such supreme levels.

Savoir, c'est pouvoir.

If that is true, then I'm obviously very weak since I can't fully grasp the knowledge.

Why did I even bother tackling a mind-incinerating major. I was at my peak at other types of majoring.

Oh well, I chose this. And so I'll die with this tattooed in my head.

Suis-je donner du sens?

Honestly, I have no idea.

I give a 90% yes that I am speaking in such retarded ways.

But I have no choice. It's better this way if someone makes a laugh of the things concocted in my brain.

Let's end the whining for now.

It's 3 in the morning and I have a test at Calculus, Filipino, and a paper in English that needs to be done.

adieu pour l'instant...

Wrong tracks

It's been a while since I wrote something here so I might as well remove the cobwebs here.

Saturday night.

For us students who study from Tuesday to Saturday at 12-5pm at a daily basis, Saturday is like paradise morphed into 24 hours.

For me personally, I love Saturdays.

The night is always young.

There's so much life during the wee hours.

Boredom is not a problem.

Only problem is, once you wake up the next day at someone's bed naked, then you're pretty much screwed my friend.

For me, I rather waste my Saturday night reading a book I never haven't even started.

Or maybe stimulate my mind by researching some cool facts.

But of course, There is always an 80% chance that I'll screw this night by wasting my time on nonsense.

Nonsense in a way that does not involve any liquors or sexual pleasures.

Alright, my classes today ended at 4:30 pm. If I'm correct, that class was computer.

Oh how I adore to send that professor 30 thousand miles away from my life.

Anyway, I chose to slack some time off before I go home by wasting it in a comp. shop.

Some hypocrite educators protested that slacking on this areas causes stupidity in the nation, I beg to differ.

They'll never know the fun of slacking time with friends. Sure beats studying any day.

Also, what I believe that the cause of stupidity in the nation is the incompetence of some hypocrite educators believing in their lies. That's just my opinion anyway.

Back to topic.

After spending 2 hours there, I bid my farewell and went on my way home.

The walk to the station was specially tranquil in an unexplainable sense.

Something mean't to be felt and not be given thought.

The LRT was cramped as always specially because it's a Saturday night.

After about 15 minutes of journeying through 8 stations, I rode off the LRT and proceeded to the Jeepney station.

I hated this part of my trip the most because everyone looked lifeless.

Everyone was sleeping while some just gave a blank stare into an endless panoramic view.

When I look to the left, someone is using my shoulder as a pillow.

To the right, a woman that always stares at me when I look to my right.

On my front, a bunch of people that can be mistaken for dead corpses.

While trying to manage the scene around, I myself just dozed off.

When we finally reached the nearest S.M. at our house, I climbed down and rode a trike to my final destination. Home not so sweet home.

Opening the gate, a scent started to tingle my senses.

Me being tired, I ignored on discovering what could that be.

While eating a quick dinner, someone asked me if I smoked a cigarette. I answered with the truth which was a no.

Another question came. She asked why did I smell like one. Of course I didn't know myself.

Combining stress, hunger, and irritation, I said that maybe she was smelling herself.

I thought that maybe she got the message to just shut up for now. Oh how wrong was I.

Last question, she asked if I was from a computer shop. Finally, I gave a loud answer.

"Yes, why?".

Apparently, she didn't liked my tone and started on her irritating speech.

Those same words, same phrases, same sentences. I wanted to slam the plate at the wall.

Or maybe slam the laptop in her face.

Instead, I just took out the earphones in my Polo's pocket and wore them on my ears while listening to loudest song I can listen to.

About maybe 3-4 minutes, she started to leave the room, finally giving me some peace.

Since then, my Saturday night has been pretty quiet and so far I'm really enjoying it.

Up to now, I wonder where did the cigar scent came from.

Was it from the girl on my left that always used my shoulder as a god damn pillow?

Was it the woman at my right who always stared at me like I was some kind of cuisine?

Did I subconsciously smoked a cigar on the way home?

Or maybe the scent just popped out from me reflecting my mood?

Oh well. This trivial questions will keep me intrigued for the hours ahead.