It’s A Category IV Hur.. – What?!

2020 had been weird. But I hope 2021 won’t get any “weirder” such that rather than hearing news about Category IV hurricanes brewing in the oceans, we will be anticipating Category IV kaijus instead.

Kulas de Malas

It is believed that the noise created by fireworks and other merry making means during Christmas season and especially on New Year’s Eve can ward off bad luck or “malas”.

So if you’re wondering why on earth does your neighbor’s blaring speakers are aimed towards your house all year round, do understand that he’s just trying to make sure that, well…

Once a fella cared too much…

Those who don’t give a fuck once gave too many fucks about everything.

(The) Name’s Not At All Relevant

The Killing Cross

(Circa April 2016)

“The sound of my gun is my music.”

Perched unknown atop a tree
In a city turned rubbles, lost in the debris
White in the snow, ready to pounce
Concealed in the shadow, all set to trounce.

Clutched in my hands, my lifeline and friend
Ammos in check, scope and armor in perfect blend
It’s them or me, it ain’t a choice
My rifle – my unmuffled voice.

The hunter balks ever so patiently
Stalking the blind and unwitting prey
A couple of inch is all it takes
You’ll forever sleep in scattered bits.

The cross is forever etched in my vision
Resting on the temple, buried in the bosom
This is the world, all the world to me
The trigger’s your switch, concludes your destiny.

Never blink even for a split second
The scarlet dot’s in between your eyes
Or a crown, a tiny crimson one
The reaper’s scythe all set to smite.

Temple by temple, one click at a time
Like dominoes, inanimately turn grime
Chests popping, heads exploding
“It ain’t gonna be me, ain’t gonna be mine!”

Forgive me brother ‘tis not my will
It’s all for peace, for good to be still
You’re not evil, I’m neither saint
They’re waiting, my child and my girl, with hope not faint.

Now take a breath, take all you can
Don’t blink, be whist and be sober
Eyes wide open or shut real tight
One cock and pull, and it’s all over.

Forgive me if you’re all over…

The Return of the Crowd of Grumblers

 

“Maski mga di binaha nakipila tapos sila pa yung mareklamo.”

So went the post in our subdivision’s homeowners Facebook page referring to what happened during the distribution of relief goods through the local parish. Luckily, we’re in a certain part of the subdivision which was left untouched by floods due to the previous typhoon. For some reason, even our neighbors who were not directly affected by the calamity nor desperately in need of relief goods were present during the distribution and they were the ones being referred to as the grumblers.

I wondered why of all people present, those who were more fortunate were the ones who had the gall to grumble and behave as entitled brats instead of responsible adults.

Sure everyone has his/her own reasons why they were present in the queue. Perhaps their supplies at home were already low or they have financial difficulties. But the grumbling part, well, I don’t know how to make sense out of which.

One possible reason that I can think of is people expect equality over equity. Regardless of the situation and individual circumstances, everyone should receive equal items. That means anyone should receive the same grocery and relief items as everyone else. The severely affected could have been given something more and better if those who can still manage will yield for their less fortunate fellows.

Another plausible explanation is, because they may not have yet experienced how to be humbled by any experience, disaster or otherwise, in which you will consider everything given to you as a blessing and gratitude is the only fitting response.

It was only then that I fully understood what Pope Francis meant when he said giving is not enough. We also have to experience to be on the receiving end and that is to receive humbly and graciously from both God and people, with no grumbling involved.

Fuck The Soulmate Mentality!

Love with our significant other is like a heart-shaped jigsaw puzzle made up of two pieces. And due to the novelty of our experiences together, each puzzle piece have intricate, unique patterns that can fit perfectly to only one piece.

But what people fail to realize is that it’s not just a trial and error fitting spree. It involves the painful process of refining the edges, cutting an edge to accommodate the other piece, and extending some parts to fill the gaps of the other.

The interesting thing is, this gap that we’re trying to fill in order to piece together this puzzle, is dynamic. Such that, the patterns change in our lifetime and thus the process of cutting, welding, and grinding are perennial processes necessary to keep the love puzzle in perfect fit.

Moral of the story? FUCK THE SOULMATE MENTALITY!

Praise Aleluya!

“Jeez! What’s that word again?!”

A man is receiving instructions on how to navigate with his peculiar newly-bought horse.

“When you want it to move, say ‘Praise Aleluya!’ And to stop, say ‘Aamen’ got that?”

“Roger that,” said the man and shouted “praise aleluya” and got his horse galloping in no time.

“Aamen, Aamen,” the man said testing the “breaks” pulling the horse to a complete stop.

“Cool!” he muttered to himself.

And so the man, to his joy, traversed through the meadows with his horse lost in his thoughts about his good fortune, when he realized that he’s heading right straight to a 200-foot cliff.

Panic-stricken, the man desperately tried to remember the word for stop when suddenly he managed to shout “Aamen!” just in time for the horse to stop in it’s next step into the jagged rocks below.

“Whew!” cried the man in relief while holding high his right fist. “I know I count on You.

And I can never thank you enough Lord. PRAISE ALELUYA!!!”