Smouldering Visions

I lit the darkness of my soul –

Not with the friendly glow of reality,
But with the consuming fire of what should be…

Writers hold on to tomorrow despite the lack of assurance that they will ever see it

Not everything you write will rock. A lot of them won’t even make sense in fact. It doesn’t matter though. Because the only thing that counts is to embrace the fact that your writing will inevitably suck sometimes and there’s very little you can do except to get on with it and keep on writing.

And because some of a writer’s toil of sweat and blood will suck, he is not immune to heartaches and frustrations. But instead of succumbing to them, he musters his courage and strength to thrive on them and coexist. Sometimes, he gains the upperhand. Sometimes, he makes a cookbook out of hordes upon hordes of heartaches and frustrations and makes them his nourishment.

But a writer’s comfort lies on the thought that he can keep on writing even if what he wrote today sucked. Because tomorrow is a resemblance of hope that what he will write tomorrow will finally make sense.

Tomorrow.

Hope.

Another chance.

That’s the way I approach writing. I just hope I can approach life with the same hope and enthusiasm especially in times when nothing seems to make sense.

Life-giving death

"Like plants, we do not acquire our nourishment solely from the sun and rain, but also in every part of us that dies." - 名前がない男の人

“Let’s fix this”

Consider yourself lucky if you find yourself a leader who will say “let’s fix this” when things go wrong rather than someone who will leave you hanging in the air, waiting for you to spectacularly fail in order to give them legitimate reasons to throw you under the bus.

 

 - 名前がない男の人

Me vs Social Media

I’d be waging war
on my mobile’s social media

For instead of transcribing
my unadulterated thoughts
on the blank page
I instead
browse one post
after another
up until
I wasted an hour
an eternity
meant for a good story
an hour
of my time
my precious time
my life
a part of me
liking
sharing
scrolling
stupidly
mindlessly

There, I finally nailed it
my undying commitment
to limit and refrain
from allowing my mind
to be subdued
by social media.
And to make myself
accountable,
I’ll post this in Facebook,
Mewe,
Gab,
Tumblr…

Old McDonald had Diarrhea

When the kid messes with the lyrics of his nursery rhymes while trying to learn to speak:

“Old McDonald had a fart
Eeyaeeyayoww!
And on his pants he had some sh*t
Eeyaeeyayoww!”

Sowing Seeds of Kindness Today and Reaping Our Saving Grace Tomorrow

Sowing seeds of kindness is like building oases in this arid wilderness of life. The magical thing about these providential zones of solace is that we run into them more than once in our lives. And in most unlikely situations, we are blessed to come across the same people who were beneficiaries of our selfless acts of kindness. Only this time, we are at the receiving end of their generosity.

And even if we never meet again the very people who we extended our kindness upon, that loving deed no matter how simple will never be destroyed nor lost in oblivion. Just like energy, it will eventually find another tangible form and will greet us once again with a pat in the back like a long lost friend or brother.

Take time to appreciate people who had been kind to offer you an oasis of rest and refreshment during the heat of the day or a safe haven of renewed hope in a quiet evening.

How many oases have you been able to build?

(If this finds anyone who had been kind one way or another, I wish to extend my heartfelt “thanks”. A grateful heart will never forget.)

Inoculated

If only there’s a vaccine

that will render

your memories

as hilarious punchlines

where I’d laugh out loud

instead of being

moved to tears,

a numbed sensation

instead of searing pain,

and will boost my system

with anti-rage bodies

everytime I’m on the verge

of turning green –

I’d inoculate myself

right fucking here,

right fucking now…

Boomer Journals 6 – Washing Dishes With Pail and a Makeshift Dipper

We were having problems with our subdivision’s water supply. Whether it’s scarcity from the supply line or mismanagement in the distribution, only heaven knows how pissed we already were. The word ‘pissed’ by the way is already a watered down understatement of our mounting frustrations.

I felt the brunt of the unpleasant experience one night while washing the dishes using a plasticware for a makeshift dipper and a pailful of water saved the other day. While I was able to tame my grumbling self, I failed to do the same for my legs and my back brought about by standing for too long while looking dejectedly at the open, dropless faucet.

And tomorrow came.

Hopeful though I was with the dawning of the new day, I abandoned all hopes of having a running water in our tap.

Then evening came.

The dreaded moment of washing the dishes with a makeshift dipper and a pailful of water is mocking me right in my face once again. But before plunging into foretold misery, I opened the faucet with my eyes narrowed anticipating for the worst.

But lo and behold, water came out where I was expecting air! This was another instance in my life where I felt so good having my expectations proven wrong.

No more dipping tonight. And tonight, I told myself, I’m gonna be washing soap sods off kitchenwares on running water.

Suddenly, something dropped onto the plate I was holding. It was only then that I realized I was in tears. I was so fucking happy that I cried.

The people-builder vs the people-user type of leader

May your success as a leader be defined based on how many people you helped along the way to become successful, not on how many were you willing to sacrifice just to achieve your selfish ends.

名前がない男の人

remember not my face

Do me a favor,

will you?

Forgot my face
I couldn’t make it
to Hollywood
anyway,
not even
the local film
Industry.

But remember
my words
and spread ’em.
my words
M-Y-W-O-R-D-S!

The rewards of invalidating people

 

The quickest, surefire way to win a lifetime of enemies is by running ’round town like an asshole invalidating people’s feelings.

名前がない男の人

Writing disorders

It happens to all mortal writers.

It’s not a matter of if, but a matter of when. These “disorders” are common to all writers whether he is experienced or an amateur.

• Diaryhea – impulsive-compulsive writing disorder due to sudden burst of ideas oftentimes coming out of nowhere. Indication includes scurrying around looking for any medium possible such as toilet papers, receipts, phone, or anything within arms reach to jot down ideas while they can still be vividly recognized. Failure to do so often results in psychological conditions such as regret and depression.

• Constipation – when the mind clogs due to unprocessed ideas not written immediately. Analogous to a hanged computer due to overload of data and commands. The problem with this condition is it eventually makes the writer “explode” which explains why some of his outputs are a chain of rubbish before coming up with something worth reading.

In moments of which, there is only one prescription. It’s hard and uncomfortable but it needs to be done anyway if you do not want inactivity to undermine your soul:

Just write.

What not to ask a writer to do

 

Asking a writer to reveal more skin or to send nudes is like asking an already half-naked Victoria’s Secret model to show her cleavage.

Because she reveals more than her buck-naked body when she writes. She exposes her soul.

名前がない男の人

Fuck Talk

The problem in today’s relationships is we are so eager to fuck the body that we often neglect one equally important thing to screw in either partner – and that is to fuck each other’s mind.

名前がない男の人

The sky reminds me of you today

The sky reminds me of you today:

cloudless
sunshine’s through and through

but lets in
some cold air too

there ain’t no place right now
that I’d rather be

strutting the streets
with good old revelry

Indifferent poetry

Poetry doesn’t care about me

doesn’t give a fuck

not even a shit

Plays god

on a mere mortal like me

a mere instrument

it made me be

for it to be born and gone

gone

gone

gone

having fun

far beyond the sun

Well wishes

 

And just before

I started to work

she hugged me

from behind

and whispered

in my ear

as she

clutched me tight

I could die

of asphyxiation:

“I hope you’d be filled

to the brim

and your entire system

drowned

today

with dopamine,

motherfucker!”

And because

of that

I told myself:

well if that ain’t

a nice way

to say

“screw you!”

then

I don’t know

what

the

fuck

that

is…

Snore

 

She doesn’t want me beside her

said I snore out loud

ruins her night sleep

in addition to her insomnia.

I don’t know what to do

with my snoring

nor with my kids’

But if only I can lend her

one of my greatest gifts

which is to sleep

regardless of the sounds of the night

or elbows

or knees

hitting all my sides.

If only I can…

First thing a writer should learn is how not to give a fuck

What you give yourself and what you think you are giving them

A few likes and occasionally, some comments. It doesn’t matter anymore. Maybe it did before, but it hardly has any potent impacts to the stubborn writer in me anymore.

I’ve been writing for around 7 years already in this semi-private blog. Semi-private because of the number of my readership is analogous to the number of people reading a private person’s diary. Despite those dismal views, blogging never came short of a variety of personal experiences for me as a writer. I’ve had some occasional highs when there were a lot of interactions and a whole lot of lows when nobody seemed to care at all about how I feel based on what I’ve written.

But I’ve already learned to deal with it despite that there are still a lot of instances that I got pissed off by the indifference of the world. Practice makes perfect anyway, right? And I’ve gotten used to the fact that in most of what I’ve written, they were met with deafening silence except for occasional swarm of crickets, both in this blog and in my social media accounts.

Well, that’s your audience’s choice. Remember that no response from them is also a form of response. After all, you are responsible for your self-expression and the things that make you sane, not them.

With the exception of course if the mode of that self-expression involves breaking a law or endangering the life of your fellow. You know what I mean. So if you’ve matured enough as a writer, you should’ve finally realized that it’s not the likes nor the comments why you were writing in the first place: and that is to regularly try to calm the raging storm within you by channeling it so you bleed ink instead of bleeding your lifeline.

What they actually receive

It is one thing to be able to express yourself. How it’s going to be received is completely another story and something which either you have very little control of or something that you can totally do nothing about.

People can only interact as far as their level of comprehension is concerned. Your ideas, grand as they are, if they land on a mind that is incapable of nurturing grand ideas, then it is most likely that they will be met with scorn, like throwing pearls to the pigs.

There are however, objective readers who are mature enough to temporarily set aside their biases in order to see your point. They can further improve your initial ideas by pitching in their objective observations or healthy criticisms. And then there are those who will opt to see what they only wanted to see in what they are reading. Hence some comments may seem like they enjoy what you have written but in reality, what you wrote just reminded them of something funny or remarkable from their past experiences which sometimes is not totally related with what you said. (Talk about getting elated when you thought you finally got your message across, only to find out that they completely missed it by a mile!)

There are those who will tell you how much you suck, oftentimes devoid of explanations whatsoever. You will never be good enough and nothing that you say or write will come at par with their insatiable “exquisite” standards. Good luck if you wish to persist in trying to impress them nonetheless.

How people react is a mirror of who they are inside. Most of the time, it’s not you who have a problem. It’s them and you can do nothing to change that. So it would be wise if your happiness is not dependent on how your audience will react. Because doing so almost always ends up tragically.

So shut up and just fucking write!

There’s no other way to put it best but to just fucking do it. If you can’t help but be bothered by voices outside of your self, don’t fucking write at all. In trying to improve yourself as a writer and a person, it is inevitable that some people will get offended by whatever reasons. So be it. Think of yourself getting better in the process and the other person who will benefit from what you’ve written. You’ll never know. Someone might be badly in need of what you have to say.

Write for those who are silent, those who will not give a like or leave a comment, and even those who will not likely speak with you face to face. They may deny you as the writer, but they can never deny the truth and the connection it made with their souls.

Regarding the critics, look at the light of what they are saying. If it makes sense, improvise. If it does not in anyway benefit you, shut out the noise and let them howl ’til kingdom come. It isn’t criminal for them to yak their brains out but it isn’t their right to impose anything on you either.

It’s either your growth or, your perceived “sanctity” of the opinion of others. Choosing one would neglect the other. It’s your choice to make.

Lessons learned while walking on eggs

Recognize those who stood by you through thick and thin. They are the so-called angels in the outfield. They are the ones who are worth sticking with.

But you should also acknowledge that not all people would be willing to lend a genuine helping hand.

There are those who will remain silent when you have done something worth of a pat on the back or at least some simple words such as “keep it up”. While some may appreciate any form of cognizance of their efforts, there are those who prefer to avoid the spotlight and opt to just work in the corner, relatively unknown like an essential cog in a complex machine. They are more happy and fulfilled that way.

And the same people who were mostly silent on your share of good times with them, would be the quickest to cry for your crucifixion the moment you commit the slightest, even trivial mistakes which would have been easily resolved by a simple talk. Instead of helping you out as an initial reaction, they conspire against you to come up with all the “just” reasons why you do not fit in which is enough to get you kicked out.

Beware of such people because they are the ones who don’t want to have anything to do with you. They will stay silent during still waters but they will be the first to throw you overboard when the slightest tempest rocks the boat.

“Sir, I’ve Come to Tell You I’d Marry Your Daughter…”

ctto

(Circa February 2017)

I come in peace sir. I did not come to stir trouble, albeit I cannot guarantee that I can leave your emotions untouched.

I must admit that you’ve done one hell of a job raising Yen sir. She’s intelligent, spontaneous, lovely, responsible, emphatic, and very passionate with what she does. I know she was and still is your princess, and the way you treat her is like she’s the next best thing in life before life itself.

And so here I’ve come to tell you that she is now my princess and my life too. And this time I’d want her to be my queen.

I know you have been dreading that a day would come when a whacko would come to face a multi-decorated life veteran like yourself and ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage.

And yes sir the day has come and that day is today. And I am that whacko in front of you.

I’d have to hold her responsible for what I’ve become though. I‘d say that it’s pretty much her fault I became that whacko because she turned my life around. I’m not a drifter before we met but I’d say that things went falling in their right places when I met her and I can’t believe what I’m actually seeing that I thought I was going crazy.

Turns out yes, I’ve become crazy. I am totally crazy about her.

Yen’s the answer to my prayers sir and I know deep within that I would end up in an insane asylum if she doesn’t become my lifetime friend and partner and the mother of my children.

She had been my saving grace and my last reason to keep believing when there’s nothing left to believe in. Sure she can get overbearing sometimes, nagging, and ultra critical but I’d still want to marry that part of her nonetheless.

I feel fear as of this moment sir. Not because I’ve done or I’m about to do anything wrong to her, but because of the thought that I’d have to meet her hero in person.

But please don’t take it against me if I say that there’s something more frightening than being here in front of you right now – and that is to live my life without Yen. And as such I decided to muster every ounce of courage in me to face you and the entire army before you and ask you to please accompany Yen to exchange vows with me in front of the altar.

I love Yen so much sir. She means my life to me. She is and will always be the embodiment of joy in this world. She’s the one who proved to me that love is more than just an ideal concept portrayed by media and printed on paper. And nothing of these would have been possible without you showing her first the essence of love and what it means to be loved when she was yet a little darling in your arms.

Please allow me to love her for a lifetime sir. Please allow me to be a part of your circle that protects her, loves her, cherishes her, and nurtures her wonderful unique personality.

I am looking forward to seeing traces of you on our mini-versions that will fill our humble home with love and laughter. I would also like to ask you sir to please help me become a good father to our future children just like how you are right now with her.

Would you please say yes, sir? Dad, please?

Kiss Wisely

The butt you kick today can be the ass you kiss tomorrow.

Kiss wisely.

– 名前がない男の人

Blood Peace

It’s funny how we often crave for blood and at the same time claim that we want peace.

– 名前がない男の人

You Are That Pearl

“Know your worth.”

Associate only with people who knows how to value you, including those who genuinely helps you grow.

And when people disrespect and undermine you such that you begin to question your value, learn to discern whether you must stay and fight for what you deserve or to just turn around and walk away.

Never, not even for a second, look down on yourself in the same way that they look down on you.

And spare your soul by not wasting yourself to those who do not appreciate. Even the Bible is very clear on this as it was written in Matthew 7:6 (NIV) “…do not throw your pearls to pigs. If you do, they may trample them under their feet…”

You are that pearl.

Read that last line again but this time substitute “I am” for “You are”. Read it again. Slowly. Regularly. Forcefully.

Boomer Journals 5 – That One Downside of Learning to Play the Guitar

 

The type of voice that I envied when I was younger was a deep bass voice. I thought it would have been much cooler rather than this baritone, especially when in a choir.

By the way, is it at all possible to train your voice to reach a lower range? I thank heavens that I didn’t have any of it if ever there were such lessons.

Then I learned to play the guitar. I never attained the caliber of Kirk Hammet or Slash by the way, despite that I’ve been aching for a kick ass talent such as theirs. But I can proudly say that I’m much better than someone who just started to hug the six-string.

Videoke would have been perfect but it wasn’t that common back then. Our only access to music was either by radio or Walkman. Or by means of a six-string which I immediately indulged myself into.

I thought it was already cool to be able to jam with a six-string, to sing and all that, be it in a crowd or in one’s alone time. I was even able to enhance it to a certain extent.

And then I discovered a problem. It wasn’t a big deal at first but it had been bugging the hell out of me ever since for years:

I couldn’t sing most of the songs I love in the same pitch as the original singer’s. If I ever do finish a song, it is with a lot of difficulty. That difficulty I attribute to playing the guitar.

Why? You see, there is a standard tune for the key of C, for example, which of course you will never be able to tune your guitar into unless you have a tuned piano nearby. In most cases, people (me included) don’t care at all if the key of C isnt the same as the standard so long as you can enjoy the moment and cajole the instrument to your heart’s content. So the pitch where you sing the song becomes totally different from the pitch of the original.

And only when you sing along with the radio or in a videoke will you realize that you’ve been duped into believing that you can sing like Steve Perry. Depressing isn’t it?

Maybe if I just focused all my juvenile energies back then trying to improve my range instead of learning to play the guitar, I now would have been singing ala Moriuchi Takahiro, Brandon Boyd, Zach dela Rocha, or the front man of the attached video, eh?

Singularity

Physicists say that the singularity, that specific point in a blackhole, is where it all ends.

I say that the singularity of my pen, however, is where it all begins.

- (The) Name’s Not At All Relevant

www.theblankscreenblog.wordpress.com

Boomer Journals 4 – Cartoons er… Uh-nuh-meis

You got caught in the gut.

You swore you saw that coming, the famed diabolical fist emerging from the side. At first, the sight of his right cross was nothing but a mere pathetic weather disturbance. But in only a split second you know fully well that it will turn into a category IV hurricane which devastates everything it landed on based on history. And now it’s headed in full force towards your defenseless midsection.

For a fraction of a second you inhaled, in an attempt to stiffen your core to hopefully mitigate the resulting damage from the incoming devastating blow.

Then his fist made contact, and it was much more powerful than the hell you expected it to be. Suddenly there was a vacuum out of nowhere. All the air stored in your lungs got sucked away in an instant. And that vacuum now threatens to suck your soul as well, like a blackhole tearing piece by piece his captive star, an unfortunate unwitting victim who dared to cross the event horizon of no return.

As your legs buckled, you started to go down. Your eyesight fading slowly. You saw your opponent grinning, cocky sure that he finally put your lights out as he bid you his final ‘sweet dreams’.

You are sure as hell to hit the canvass any second from now. Strange but you momentarily forgot the pain from the impact until you realized you’re caught in a flashback. Once again you saw the reasons why you decided to turn pro: your mom, hands together praying for your safety; your siblings expecting the championship belt from you; and the instance you finally decided to own your life and become the warrior you always envisioned yourself to be.

After like an hour of being suspended in mid air, you decided it was too soon to give up. Suddenly, your legs regained their strength that once again established your balance.

On your way up, your right fist started to launch like a rocket, accelerating from zero to devilish speeds in a split second. Your opponent whose feet were grounded in fear upon seeing the dead rise again, can only gasp in horror as you gave him a dose of his own medicine when you hit him with all you’ve got in the midsection and throwing him five meters from you in the process, his body giving a loud thud as it kissed the canvass good night.

There he lays on his back, oblivious to the ten counts of the referee and hands waiving in the air signifying that it’s all over. Panting hard, you still can’t believe you came out of that alive and yet you were there, finally a title holder and it wasn’t a dream!

X – X – X – X – X

It’s hilarious recalling these moments from this cartoon [relax, triggered weebs and otakus, it’s “uh-nuh-mei” right? XD]

But it sure brings back good old childhood memories, including the opening sound track. Who says only American rock can only produce this much hype? You’re missing out if you don’t get to hear J-Rock!

Ang Dakilang Sulsultant

Mag ingat sa mapagpanggap
sa mga taong sulsol
masahol pa sa galising asong
kahol ng kahol
Akala mo matapang
matatag na sandalan
subalit pag nagkaipitan
mababahag ang buntot
mangunguna sa takbuhan

Stepping Stones

In order to go sky high, you first need to experience how it is to fall down south. Hard. It’s inevitable as gravity itself.

With much ado and denial, we painfully learn as we look back that there are no such thing as shortcuts. It’s a universal law that we have to undergo step by fucking step: we will suck at first, then manage to stay afloat, and eventually excel.

After all, there is no such thing as failure as the saying goes. Sometimes we win, sometimes we learn.

The beloved sons and daughters of Mephistopheles

Even those who caused us unimaginable heartaches have so much to teach us. Yes, including those who perplexed our souls such that we started to question why on earth was murder considered a sin in the holy scriptures in the first place.

And we have to realize that just like circumstances, these people, which we were certain to be related by blood with Mephistopheles, were sent to purify us, and were meant to prepare us to become our best selves that we are today.

A much more fun presentation

Okay, if you’re not at all consoled by all that cosmic shit, you can put it this way: instead of stepping stones, treat it as if you’re stepping on the necks of all the assholes, and dickheads, and bitches who gave you a hell of a time.

Imagine them all lined up, their necks serving as your footstools as you ascend your path from the abyss where you came from up to the dizzying heights where you are right now.

And rather than quickly ascending to your culmination, imagine that you are dancing on your way up, angels singing and clapping on either side, while you are taking your sweet time jumping and spinning and going to the next, just before the previous “footstool” gags.

Test results

Time for a pop quiz:

If the above presentation caused you to salivate that you drooled the way Venom does, obviously you should keep on searching for that elusive inner peace.

But if you just chuckled a bit and told yourself that you are exactly where you ought to be and that everything that transpired was meant to strengthen you including the people who prematurely put you through hell whilst you are still alive, well, you finally upgraded to a whole new level. Keep that fuck up!