Broken Window

In my Closet Today

I found myself inside my closet today, crawled up in fetal position and head like an ostrich buried under the folds of my clothes… It felt good to reside together with my clothes for a while, I wanted to sleep there for a moment but I have to go back rummaging for something to wear…

I hear Fergie singing, ‘Labels or Love’. ‘Love’s like a runway but which one do I love more, no emotional baggage, just big bags filled with Dior, love’s like a runway, so what’s all the fussing for, let’s stop chasing them boys and shop some more… I ain’t looking for love, relationships are often so hard to tame, A Prada dress has never broken my heart before, and, ballin’s something that I’m fed up with, I’mma do the damn thing, watch me do the damn thing, cause I know that my credit card will help me put out the flames…’

Samantha spoke in my head, ‘I dont really believe in marriage, but Botox on the other hand work every time..." oh I love her… yes Botox, I want some of that, stretch my skin out from this mess I bury under my brow…

Ok, I guess I have to get dressed now, I am so late for work as usual, still need to book me a model for a shoot and I’m here staring at my computer again dancing my butt off from my gym ball… damn I want manicure and pedicure and new hair coloring… shit, maybe after tomorrow, I’m gonna end up racing for a radio show ala ‘Amazing Race’ and racing across Manila in a lent BMW. Scary, i've never driven a BM, I might just end up breaking a nail… oh I hope they give me a good navigator or a hot partner to cruise the city… fuck and I hope we win that load of cash, yes cash, that would me me happy… what’s that again Fergie? Yes ‘No emotional baggage, just big bags filled with Dior…’ shit as if I can afford a Dior…

...i have a silly thought in my head since last night... would it make me less of what i am if I date a guy again? a thought, a man's arm around my waist, security and protection... kisses will do... 'oh can we just skip the bed please, and shave that goat tee, it's fuckin itchy.' I was in a formal gala event last night, in a long gown, as i pose for the picture i wrapped my arms to my guy friend, 'does it, does it look better with my arms around a man's neck than with a womans?'

Me and my silly twin me

I thought finally stressing my body this much would send me to la la land, yet here I am staring at my monitor again... I slept on the car on the way home, been a while since I went out of town without me behind the wheels...

The waves, I shouted and cheered for it today to wash the surfboard to shore… I love first times… made me so happy that I was able to stand up on the board the moment it hit the wave… I keep telling the instructor that it’s like doing my yoga… push up, 45 and 90 degrees on your feet then balance… still have to learn so much and work on paddling, damn this could get addicting… anyway, I told my friend as I carry the huge board while walking to our spot, ‘I’ve always thought surfers are sexy, but carrying the weight of this board doesn’t make me feel sexy!’ we were laughing, I always find it funny to make fun of my ditzy side…

I was browsing at the photos my friend took and I find it weird how in some photo I look a little mannish with my broad shoulders, while on the other clips my photos look so girly as I raised my hands balancing on the surfboard. The butch and the femme in me, it gets confusing sometimes. We were talking about sports and how I use to play basketball in college yet in my head I’ve always wanted to be a cheerleader. As my friend hits the racetrack today I screamed and cheered in my shortest of shorts yet in my head I keep thinking, ‘Damn a girl on the race track is so fuckin hot,’ better the driver than just the chick with boobs dropping the flag!

I was secretly fussing about it in my head how sexy it is to be a Spartan on the ring at the same time be the cheerleader on top of the pyramid, the subject or the photog, the painter or the model, the king or queen, Romeo or Juliet, the artist or the ditz… hmmm my lesbian thoughts… if you can’t date them be them… if you can’t have candy, be the candy. Either way sexy is always involve. How I love sexy. How I love androgyny. Anyway just be.

I met this guy yesterday and he keeps saying he thinks he met me before cuz my ‘Aura’ is familiar. My Aura? What’s the color of it anyway? I wish I meet me as well so I would know what it is.

A little piece of Serenity

In a mercury drug I used to buy this inhaler called ‘Life in a can’, it makes everyone laugh when I inhale it, I tell them, ‘boy! it is cheap to buy life,’ then I would laugh with them… it’s a small can filled with oxygen, it soothes and refreshes the brain. Then I would tell them, ‘You know, I wish someone can invent, ‘Love in a can’,’ then everyone can afford it and be satisfied with it… it’s easy, they can put it in different flavors, any type you want, bitter love, sour love, sweet love, baby love, passionate love, possessive love, romantic love, or fuckin’ bleeding love if any would want… funny, maybe life would be easy… it makes for a good laugh…

I was thinking today, why not a can of happiness… ever body would want that… but like I told a friend the other night, ‘happiness? It is a different ball game’…

I was busy working today and I keep receiving calls and messages for good opportunities… just ‘luck’ in my little string of life… it was momentary satisfaction yet calmness is wrapping me up… I know this feeling… it was familiar to me… I felt this a few years back when I flew to Hong Kong with a real Angel… could it be? Could it be a little piece of serenity?

Last night I was so at peace when I laid my head on the bed, 2am I felt sleep creeping on me… that was early already for me to be in bed, I was happy finally to rest with nothing to worry me… oh heaven, it was heaven, then I woke at 4am, I think I was just in the first stage of sleep… I wasn’t sure if I even slept at all, so I got up again to finish my canvass… but the entire time, I was peaceful…

As I wrap up work with my colleagues, I said, ’you know I am happy today, I don’t even have the urge to process the usual stuff in my head’… I was ok, my thoughts were not in turmoil, and I feel so at ease… wow… my graphic artist would play love songs of broken hearts and unrequited love, and I was happily singing with each note… to sing love songs and be ok with it… I was bewildered with myself… it was funny… as I drove home and played some more silly tunes, I asked my cousin, ‘how do you feel? Do you feel like you miss anyone? Someone? Do you feel heavy between your chest?’ she said in a shallow voice, ‘yes, a little.’ And I told her, ‘I am amazed at myself, I do not miss anyone, long for anyone, crave for anyone, nor hate anyone!’ a big smile dawned on me while I puff the cigarette under the rain…

I am at peace… yes I found a familiar place in me… a little piece of serenity…

I hear solitude tonight

I watched so many scenes of solitude tonight, every one hiding in their little wall of glass, so much pain and sorrow caused by some one else’s pain… the ‘tree of solitude’ I always call it, it’s a title of one of the paintings that I’m doing…

I am in awe by how lonely everyone is… make up for great movie scenes… I was hanging out with a close friend tonight, conversing under the modes of rain falling from the roof… the rain, makes every thing so gloomy, nostalgic, and just plain messy at times… I am here again bathing in the offering of my solitude, how I love the silence and peace that it dawns on me… peace, doesn’t everyone crave for it?

I was in my head again as the last scene of the movie was panning on the screen… a woman crying by the side of her bed, then a phone call, a warm happy voice on the other line, then the words, ‘I love you.’ It made me smile. I thought to myself, how lovely that moment is, how in every corner of the world right now, two souls are whispering that to each other, such a beautiful thought. I was happily engaged in my own modes of thinking as my phone squeaked. A message on the other line, it made me smile. It’s funny when you’re craving for a soul to remember you and when someone does you question why it isn’t the person you want to be remembered by… funny. What are the odds...

I remember a line in one of Madonna’s songs, ‘Why is it so hard to love one another, why is it so hard to love?’ Is it really? To love is one of the easiest things to feel, yet we try to find it to those who can’t share it… my friend was looking at some of the works I’ve finished, as she brushed her hand across the canvass she said, ‘Why is it that you made something this big to remind you of a memory of someone you barely even know when the other one who hurt you doesn’t make you paint some thing like this?’ I said, I have a different box for that, but those are sad memories. I told her I want something that makes me smile, cuz every time someone hears the story behind this canvass it makes them smile. Then she smiled at me, ‘See, it makes another soul smile, ain’t that a lovely feeling?’ She smiled again… oh how I love her… see, there there, so easy to love someone… then a funny thought, ‘yup, someone you actually like.’

We were secretly fussing about how some people sees negative things that comes from someone’s mouth as still something good, I told her sometimes it can be, but there are times when these people just don’t get it. There are things people say to patronize, quick-witted people gets it fast, some just ignores the signs, and some, some just doesn’t read between the lines… it’s just sad and unfortunate. They try to analyze it but why still give a fuss when you find out they just don’t give a damn… sometimes there’s a borderline between dislike and just plain disgust. Things people often feel but refuse to raise a finger on it, and when someone does, they tell you that you’re mean and even call you names.

O well, anyway, perceptions are always misleading, it makes someone commit murder. ‘Hey, hey, don’t point that gun at me.’

Glass... better than ice

I heard from a movie, ‘glass, it’s better than ice,’ I thought about it while I use it on my next peg. Glass breaks, while ice melts… Which is better to wrap someone’s heart? If ice, your heart shuts, like cryogenics, someone can easily melt it with warmth, when it thaws, the heart beats again, yet the beating is no longer fresh, like thawed meat…

On the other side, if you place a heart in a glass, oh its beautiful to look at, but glass you can see it but you cannot touch what’s inside. Oh how tempting to break a beautiful glass and to touch what’s inside. What happens to the heart when you break it’s casing, it beats like how it was cuz it never stopped beating to begin with, but what happens to the person who broke the glass, there there, sitting by the corner nursing himself with the wounds from the shattered glass… oh the irony. so nice to put it in words… I could go on for days messing it up in my head…

Then I looked at my heart, how did I wrap it this time? I use to say I covered it up in snow, and it was for a time but someone thawed and revived it’s beating but broke every vain that keeps it alive… where is it now? Whole again, all the pieces back in my hands, mine, not cold anymore, feels more than ever… did I place it now in a glass? Hmmm… a lovely thought, but will I let anybody break its casing for me? When it will just hurt the one who tries to break it…

I hear another voice, calmer this time… ‘No, I will open it for you, not break, I will open it the way you placed it there…’

A Walking Paradox

My fingernails feel so sore from opening cans and tubes of paints for how many days now… I accidentally flipped a huge texture container and I squirmed in agony for my dear fingers… I told my cousin,’ I wouldn’t be fuckin surprised if one day all my nails will be purple from all these heavy lifting.’ Sigh, the perils of trying to be a craftsman…

I took a shower at 4am today and scrubbed all the remaining paints on my skin, but no matter how hard I scrub, there would always be remnants… like the thousand stains in my soul, no matter how I wash it with water and air, still stays embedded in me…

I’m a little frustrated with one of the canvass, it looked like a chunk of hard cement, I hate painting canvass with wood underneath, it makes everything look stiff, add to the fact when I add my texture…. But then its hard to use a big canvass without wood, the canvass will never be flat, a fellow artist said, ‘with the sizes you’re working on, it’ll be hard to keep the canvass straight without wood, even just with brace…’ and I screamed, ‘ why is it that ‘Spolarium’ didn’t have any wood!’ He was laughing, seeing the frustrated child in me, he said, ‘Tatum, you know how heavy that painting is?! They had to use grounded marble during that time cuz they didn’t have textured paint to work with.’ I laughed with my naivety…

I hope I finish with magazine work early this week so I can get more materials, I’m so frustrated with a peg I worked on, I simply cannot put the same colors the way I used it on my vectors… I’m so scared that I cannot make the same as the one I work on with my tablet… ugh, frustrating… now sandman has paid a visit and its not midnight yet…

A columnist was on the phone with me earlier telling me about my talk with him last cover shoot, he was so engrossed with our talk that his article for the actual celeb subject was like talking about art appreciation… he can’t wait to see my works… in my head, I got even more scared, I do not even want to show it, it looks sloppy, not the way I imagined it…

oh please bless my hands, my eyes are weary and tired… oh Gabriel, wake me in my dreams tonight and dance with me without fear… oh dreams, I wonder when was the last time I had one with closed eyes… oh words, my words… like a walking paradox…

I’m not feeling so good, I think I’m coming up with a flu, too much work and lack of sleep add to the countless cigarettes I huff and puff every minute… at least now I can control my thoughts, no longer screaming in chorus… hey thought, say that again? Yes, shush for a minute or two, I’m still counting the seconds before I decide to confront you…

Anarchy of thoughts

I had a photo shoot with one of the presidentiables today and on the walls of his house were a collection of Picasso, Rembrandt, Renoir, a pool of Amorosolo’s and a bunch of great Filipino artists… I was in awe, now I can’t wait to better myself and earn a lot of money so I can go to the Louvre in Paris… oh the emotions it will evoke on me… priceless…

I have learned so many valuable things today from great and simple people, I was able to shake hands and dine with them as they share their thoughts and treasures… one good thing that I learned today is the value of RESPECT…

As I was walking away from another exhibit of charcoal nudes, I could process the gifts of thoughts that I’ve gathered today, it made me so happy… so the usual me, flying again out of my body, thinking and smiling while getting inside the car…bang! I hit a post while backing up… oops, reality snapped again telling me to go back to my body… my car has another chip on the back now but I was laughing like hell… I was screaming in my head, ‘stay grounded! You have to stay on earth!’ oh how it made me laugh with another epiphany…yes, I do not need anybody to keep me levelheaded, life itself tells me to be so… as I drove away, me again, things were running in my head like a whirlpool of anarchy… the balance of evil and good in me… it overwhelmed me…

The Devil’s Advocate
I was feeling a little guilty with the trade of my evil doings today but as the conversation with diwata unfolds, she was telling me that, it doesn’t matter whether we became a bad person and hurt someone, the results and the chain reactions will be good for them, they just have to see it that way… I told her, ‘yes, to kill a part of you and a part of them causes great things in the end…’ some of us doesn’t realize it fast, some takes years, but its usually better if we snap easily, wake up and turn the predicament into something simpler than what it is…

I was listening intently to the senator as he speaks of himself, his art, his music, and the battles he has with some of his counter parts. He was speaking about how some people he hates earned his respect in the end… someone’s competency, brilliance, wit and tact; these are the things that amuse an arrogant man. I looked at everyone on the table, artists, a leader, a legendary photographer, an established editor, a writer, a makeup artist, a stylist, then back to me, the lone lost sheep drifting in her own consciousness… we are all arrogant and confident in our own shadows, yet we value and respect people in our own ways… some of us speak of the devil in us, and some of us hides it to preserve ourselves…

I stopped on traffic today in the middle of the overpowering heat and humid air, a sampaguita vendor tapped on my window, I raised my hand and didn’t look at him cuz I was thinking. Normally I would scavenge for coins and give it to them without batting an eyelash, but this time, I chose not to cuz I was busy inside my head… then my officemate convoyed at my back texted me that a photographer we know was taking photos of the scenario. I freaked, I didn’t want to be a part of someone’s exhibit with a photo on the wall, speaking of poverty and a selfish woman in her car. What a nasty sight to see… but he messaged me saying, ‘no, it wasn’t you, it was the other car she was shooting as the vendor tapped on his window.’ What a fuckin’ relief…an evil picture on a wall! Who wants to be a part of it?!. Then I remember the politician, how sometimes in the senate he just wants to hear music in his ipod but refuse to plug it on his ear cuz media are on the scene, and these scenarios make up for such a good buzz on the headlines… we were all smiling as the writer turned off his recorder… yes, every one is a devil’s advocate, and we laugh about it when we realize it in ourselves but still balance the good things and weighs down the bad ones… As I stare at this man who makes history unfold before our eyes, I look up at him with respect and admiration for showing us how human he is but he tries to be a leader for the good of the entire community… I’m still not sure about my vote, how I want to get to know each one of the presidentiables this candid so I’ll know who to put on the ballot. I remember an actress who became a politician, she gained my admiration as well, and she is so firm in the things that she believes in and admits at her own flaws but still became a good servant for the people. Oh how I wanted to vote for her as a president, but she said, she doesn’t envy our president now, being a leader can kill so many parts of your life, and she still values some of her own. I still believe she would make such a good leader and I would gladly follow. To be a good leader, what a scary thought. I still cannot take care of a plant in my apartment, how else can I take care of people.

The Oxymoron
As I left the nude exhibit tonight, I have new values instilled in me. I looked at his art works, I told diwata who posed for the artist, I do not get why he wants to exhibit these stuff, I feel like anyone could do it… but then I pinched myself, RESPECT, this is how he viewed a human form, and it is beautiful… it’s the little critic in me, the argument about the three approaches of art, Realist, Objectivist, and Relativist. I want to take back what I said about some of the exhibits that I saw last weekend, for me to call some ‘FLUFF’, I am as naïve as the guy who mocked the painting in my office wall. I asked the politician, what makes you buy an artwork, he says, if it has a thing of value to him, if it evokes something in him, or sometimes he just wants to help a new artist. Then I recall, a photographer who collects as well, I asked him the same thing, he said, he’ll buy it ‘if it evoked something in him.’ Then I asked myself how I see an artwork. It depends, I look at an artwork with the eyes of ‘a craftsman’, because I can create art and I usually bow down to great talents when I know I cannot create what the other artist created, but sometimes I would look at a piece ‘as an artist’ and just appreciates the beauty of a certain thing, yet sometimes I look at it ‘as a receiver of message’ I value a work of art if it evoked emotions on me. Now I realize, that there are so many terms for these and respect should be given to any human work of art. Whew, so many arguments, and so many movements, Post modernists, Abstractionists, Modernists, Idealists, Surrealists, Cubists, Expressionists, Impressionists, Minimalists, Futurists, …haaaayyy, and so many more fuckin—ists and isms! My head can’t bear to understand all and I’m having a hard time identifying my art in all these fuckin isssss….

I just got the two huge ass bare canvass that I’ve been craving for days, I’m lusting to scar it anytime soon but I am so cramped up with time and schedules… I’m weighing my weekend again, beach or paint, fun or happiness, practicality or idealism…ugh now my mind and body is just so fuckin’ tired from all these things that I oozed out of my head…

Oh sleep, yes, sleep is good, so many more tomorrow… oh yes, tomorrow, another busy and exciting day…

Dilat

Pumipitik na naman ang araw sa bintana,
ang sarap murahin ng insomya,
isa kang puta

ayoko na
panis na ng letra at pintura ang aking mata
nangangalumata

pilit mang umidlip
ang utak naman ay talon ng talon
puro titik

isa
dalawa
putcha
sampung libo na ang tupa
wala ng sisidlan
ilan pa ba?!

hoy magbubuhangin
paki sabuyan nga ng asin ang aking mata

A tiny little strand of darkness...

I just finished the painting on my door…my cousin and I were so excited to put the faces that I wanted on the doors…she was laughing when I scratch the pencil marks. My door had a lovely face of a woman, hers, a man, she wanted it to look like David Beckham, I tried, but I suck at drawing men, they all turn out gay on the paper… thus, her door looked like an entrance to an angry looking gay guy…she was laughing but I don’t think she’s happy about it…

I was walking down Ayala Ave. earlier talking to a writer, we passed a doughnut house and I said, ‘Do you know what doughnuts are? They're a soul with a hole…’ he cringed at me and told me that one day he wouldn’t be surprised if I started to talk like ‘Yoda’. I freaked, I didn’t want to look like Yoda! Hello, he’s short and ugly, I dread the idea… but he said, ‘You know how he talks, he talks in metaphors.’ I laughed. My god, I reside too much in my head that I’m looking at things differently, I’m starting to be like my old self in college…the freak who talks weird and draws all kinds of dark stuff… Oh no…

Even my music is starting to shift again…I like to drive with a CD full of heavy sounds, a lot of bass, drumbeats and screaming sounds… the angst… oh no, I wouldn’t be surprised if I side sweep another being on the street or scream at annoying crowds…yikes…the other day I was driving and smiling at a thought…I keep playing it in my head…I felt like Roman Dirge, the comic guy who drew a lot of dark but funny little stuff, Lenor cutting animals and body parts…I pinch myself momentarily…wake up! Dexter are you in me? I don’t even want to entertain the idea in my head, it’s funny but crazy… it’s my funny little secret… slice and dice… a smirk and a laugh… hahaha, it would make a good plot for a serial killer series… I will write it down when I get the time…

I scare myself sometimes… there’s a tiny little strand of dark cloud and I’m scared that one day my green heart will be covered with it… I hear RNB playing, yes, ‘good girl gone bad.’ Oh my… not me... that’s not what I am made of…

Push and blame… in you and in me… no… please not me…

I got a text from my mom today, I miss her… I wish I’m back in her arms like a baby… she would take care of me… only in her arms will I feel safe…

Can't get enough of...

My hands feel so stiff from painting thin lines…I hate small canvass, they asks for more detail and care, it’s hard for me to go wild and dance while I push the brush…but it’s ok, the small details makes an art piece more enticing…I hate sloppy work, you can see so much mess…my friend said not to get scared, it’s just the digital imager in me wanting things clean but I really like roughness in a work…

I am scared now when I get the big canvass I’ve been craving for days…what if I make mistakes…my eye would grow weary…sad…I hate the feeling of fear and uncertainty…the good thing about using acrylics is you can always fix it up…I love having a fellow painter criticizing and believing in me at the same time…it makes me try harder and better…he texted me about his name in the newspaper today, I told him how proud I am of him and I want to be just like him, he said, ‘Of course you can be, you have the potential.’ For people to believe in you more than you believe in yourself is freeing…I also like people not believing in me cuz they make me work my best…spite and criticism, another catalyst to elevate…I always laugh at them in the end…

I am always in awe of the painting in our office wall, I never knew the artist but every morning I would stare at the textured golden mayonnaise spread plastered on the reception. I love textures. My officemate told me earlier how untalented the artist is, I laughed at him…how he doesn’t see the beauty that I see…it is abstract, he said he could do better, I laughed again, I want to see him try…the painting doesn’t have depth and meaning for sure, it is a beautiful accidental art work…I’m sure he didn’t plan it in his head, he just let his mind go wild and the brush to lead his hands… but for an idiot to mock it is unacceptable…so naïve…

Just like the person who keeps commenting negatively when her words doesn’t even connect correctly, I would gladly bow to you when you say something that would amaze me or something that would catch my fancy…enough with your fluff and angst, it is not needed in my dictionary… stop poking a balloon flying so high, it will just explode in your face…I could count the things that might not be good for you to hear but you will need them so that you would know…sometimes people should be put in their right place specially when they are not aware of it…tsk…try to humble yourself but elevate yourself at the same time… and you know maybe you should look the other way, maybe there are more words you can scope up from others cuz you use mine vexingly ... there are on line dictionaries I'm sure you have time to gather words since you look like you have nothing else to do but read my thoughts and copy every single phrase that you can scratch off... my words are simple and easy to recall, I'm taught that way... what you are? an annoying angry little cunt... oh cunt, yes such a fancy word, sure go ahead maybe you can use it for something to curse on me again... oh what did you say?'Je ne comprend pa...' my french is a little rusty but you're rusty...oh maybe i should try this again...(Alanis Morissette,' All I really want') – 'why are you so petrified of silence? here can you handle this_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

On another light, an email of a friend made me smile tonight, Aquarians always respects another aquarian…I wrote about all the Aquarians in my life before and how I love to stash some more of us…so fun to be with and conversations are never boring, lovers of the world…pure freedom…I think I want another aquarian for a lover, I’ve had two Aquarians, I want another you… they could be such drama queens but so am I, hahaha but they’re so amazing… I know already the signs I have to scrape off on my list, yuck, such mind-fuck enough of them, I want someone like me, like my first, but the freedom in us broke us apart… we were always in love with the world…the roles we’ve been given…sigh…I don’t think I understand it much…

So much Lust in the heat

I just got home and sweating again from the heat…’Dad’ said it might be a prolonged summer til December, ‘See cuz these people never listen to Al Gore’…I smiled while I look at the sun peeping from the glass window…

Heat…I love the warmth that it showers on the road…everything looks more colorful and saturated…people walking down the streets clad in their skimpiest tanks and shorts…sweating with skin glistening from the burn…it must be nice to frolic on the beach now in my bikinis…but I chose not to go for the summer…I just ditched the paid accommodation and flight I have for this week…I figured, I will just get drunk again so might as well stay in the city and finish my canvass instead…I saw some photos of my friends in Bora, they looked like they had so much fun, am I missing out on the sun? But the sun is shining here as well. Bora will just be another escape…

I just got out of my clothes now and I could feel the heat swallowing me…oh the heat…it’s so sexy…speaking of sexy, I was having a few laughs with the staff today…my editor was telling everyone about her weekend in a famous ‘Bed and Breakfast’…the name of the rooms they stayed on are ’I love’, I ‘desire’, ‘I lust’…the ‘I lust’ room is the presidential suite…we were laughing…I asked her, what is the difference with lust and desire…I told her isn’t it the same thing?

LUST, oh how I love to use that term…everybody lusts for something or someone…but lust and love, I always have a hard time mixing the two…I sometimes try to mix them in my palette but I lose control…it’s so hard to moan to someone I love ‘to fuck my brains out.’ And I always feel whorish to fuck someone I do not even love…sex…it’s just sex…but I am not just sex…our editor cringed at the idea, she said, ‘ I can’t believe I’m talking to my staff about sex!’ We were laughing, her staff aren’t kids, we were adults in the modern world…sex shouldn’t be a taboo thing to talk about…her staff is composed of gay men, straight females and me, the femme lesbian…she would always be confused with me, cuz I date guys as well…but I told her, men lusts, but I do not lust for them, I like the idea of desire in their eyes, it’s overwhelming but a woman’s contour is always a thing to desire…meat, it’s the meat…but women aren’t just meat…

Women are higher than meat… it reminds me of what I said before about women, ’Women are so addicting…their like a drug that seeps into your vein so deep, it cuts the passage ways where you ease to breathe…maybe not for all, but it is for me… I like women, their soft curves, the way their skin leaves you wanting more, and their soft touch which makes your skin ache in agony...I don’t like rough, rough is animalistic, just like Gia said ‘I can do it with a dog so what’s the point…’ Women are different, you feel each other, hear each other, breathe each other like one... feel their pain as your body rubs against them...their longings...their music.... the sex is sex, but when you start to mix it with feelings and get too deep into it, its crazy, you would want your head to explode...’ the person on the other line said, the words are making her wet…see how women are, you need to dive into us to turn us on…caress all the senses, make them hear, make them feel, make them ache for it, and swim to their soul…women, abstruse beings, but not so hard to crack…once you crack them open, they bleed an endless gush of red…oh how beautiful we are…

One of my gay colleague was on the phone earlier, he caught my attention cuz he was making this moist disgusting sound, I looked at him with dropped jaw…he was having phone sex! Ugh! I screamed at him to stop cuz it’s making everyone uneasy…after he put the phone down, he was talking casually, he’s like, ‘What can I do, he was the one who called, he wanted to get off of it…’ I stared at him in amazement…gay men…two men in heat doesn’t disgust me, but the animal in them, ugh, I just can’t take it…sometimes I would wish to have their lust, to have plain sex, it's just sex, casual sex…it's over powering, but to wake in the morning with someone you don't love, 'could you please get off my bed...'

Division of time

I just got back from a preprod and staring at my monitor again, so sleepy at work yet I can’t rest cuz there are so many things to finish. I only had 2 hours of sleep since this morning, I can’t stop painting and staring at my words at the same time, the narcissistic me on a high…

I was talking to my (‘dad’) mentor during the meeting, I was telling him the eye bags that my art is causing me…I told him about another friend who told me that my eyes reveal an older me that is not me, I screamed at him, ‘duh as if you are not the same Jurassic park!’ he was laughing and said, ‘ well at least my eye bags means money, not you way back, your bags tells so much of women!’…I wanted to slap him and flee, yes the start of my year, fuckin ‘rootless tree’, last year was different, I was the busiest and the most productive and how he envied me…someone told me that I am the busiest person she knows, and I told her I never want it to end, I want to be this busy til I reach 40 or 50, I never want my brains to rut…she said, ‘wait til you find someone to be with, the busy you will be so fuckin frustrated…’ well, they can all wait, my time, I hold it in me and share it to those I want to share them with. I do not believe that just cuz a person is busy then they do not have time for others, of course they do, they always do, its just a matter of importance. A matter of choosing and balancing…what sucks is when you are there, they take it for granted…when I give a person with high regard, I always tell them, ‘I am here…’ hoping they will make the most of it…cuz I have a short attention span and easily slips away…

Dad said at least its good that I am doing the things I love the most while he is working and working, I told him, ‘Give me more work! I want money,’ and laughed…

I am listening to the new Madonna album ‘Hard Candy’, it takes a while to sink in…I still love her old soul, ‘Bed Time Stories’, ‘Erotica’, ‘Something to Remember’, ‘Ray of Light’…they’re the best, I like borrowing her words once in a while…she’s timeless…

Music, like a work of art, its best when its full of soul, no not a love song, just melodies sculpted from some ones real experience, I feel them in me…I hate fluff that tries to be deep, they have holes in between their soul, like a fuckin doughnut…fluff is good for fun but that’s just it…I would moon on Paris Hilton and Beyonce but would always know when to get back…

While driving I played the director’s songs that he sent me way back, it’s soothing…he collated a podcast of the songs he made for rainy days, something he resides to when he is brooding…I love him, a soul who thinks the same as me…a soul who’s fucked up as I am yet standing tall…our emotions, it’s a beautiful part of us…I barely even got to know him but the pieces he shared are treasures I keep…he is Romeo in my ears…how I love these people, the gifts they bring are worth more than money…their words, their songs, their artworks, the movies they make…the gifts of their thoughts…mga diwata sa mundong normal…I could live with them in a deserted island and for sure we would all have fun…reminds me of a conversation about heaven and hell, I told someone before how interesting hell would be cuz there are so many brilliant eccentrics there, writers, painters, singers and we would all dance the beat of Zion, drenched in sweat and lust…a funny thought…I so want to be one of them but they scare me, and I don’t want to look like them…

The marketing department asked me for a new concept for an editorial, I love it when they milk ideas, then I try to speak like I know things, then they would believe, then I’d start to believe on what I said…hahaha funny, then if my ideas fuck up, so many thousands are spent on wasted print, ouch…o well blame it on believing…

Maybe I should stop speaking in my head again…it’s so hot outside but my office is a freakin’ winter wonderland…I want to sleep soon…

Collective Memories

I was in the car wash today…I was talking to my cousin about memories…how I have so much of it in my closet…I always thought that my memory is not that sharp, cuz I tend to forget things so easily, names, people, deadlines…but for some reason, memories from the heart are so detailed in me, the scars, the pain, the smiles, the smell, the touch…I could make a movie about it and not forget an inch…

I was talking to my first love a few months back when someone else broke my heart…she was telling me how bad her memory is and how she forgot everything about us…’Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind,’ she chose to erase all her memories of me…yet every time she watch that film it reminds her of me…and me, that movie always reminds me of her…

I was telling her how much I remember, the firsts, its always hard to forget…the things we would do, the way she move her nose, the way she would smile, the way I would watch her and take video clips of her while she walked passed my table in the library, the seconds were like an eternity, I would always play it at night and repeat pause and play…I remember the first time she held my hand and how it sent a thousand signals in between my thighs and my pulsating heart…oh how I remember too much of these things…the beautiful and the bad ones…but I didn’t have feelings for her anymore, all that she is a memory, the reminder of the things that I had and would never have again…

I was telling a friend about memories and how I go back to the beautiful ones when I feel down…I never think of the bad ones, like watching a film, it feels good to replay it in my head…it makes me smile...she said, why is it that when she thinks of her memories, all that she feels is pain…and I know so many who does the same…I told her, when you think of memories, try to detach it from your heart, just play it in your head, fly away with it, like how you would imagine yourself in a happy place…then it will make you smile…the only reason a memory hurts is cuz you haven’t let go of it yet…

I have new memories in my closet now, some more firsts…oh how I love creating new chapters…like all the soundtracks I have in my ipod, I have different chapters on the play list…the strings of what makes me ‘me’…

I am collating everything in a box for the exhibit I am preparing for…a fellow artist commented on my works…then I looked at it, I wanted to keep everything for myself…I am in love with one of the prototypes, I can’t wait for the canvass to arrive and transfer it there…I can’t stop staring at the vectors…it always makes me happy…

I am so excited to paint everything…every box has a story behind it…I can’t wait to see all of it displayed in a wall… I can’t wait to juice every little memory I have in me and see it visually for others to watch…and for me to let go of it and move on to create new ones…but it scares me every time I touch the brush…I only wish my hands can show the beauty of the memories in my head… the stories, oh how it can make me smile…

I told my cousin, ‘you know what, if I’m ever going to be with someone again, I want that person to see the world like how an artist views things, or maybe more than an artist, I want that person to show me beautiful things that life has to offer…’ she would be so lovely…then I remember a poet who used to offer his heart to me…oh how I wish he’s a girl, I would marry him…like the guy in ‘Big Fish’, then there’s an amazing director who would make me his muse and send me his music everyday…sigh, why can’t these people just fit perfectly in my heart…my heart is a very big place, but it has a shape that only one person can fit perfectly in…and this person has to be in a form of a woman…another deep sigh…

I hear whispers in me, ‘whoever you are, do not change the shape of your heart, I would wait patiently for it when I am ready, when I’m done waiting, I would search for you in a gold mine, I know you are there, I will knock on your door, will you greet me with a big smile?’

Crave

I just finished a few vectors for my canvass, I am so in love with one of the pegs, I can’t stop staring at it…I think I just turned asexual hahaha…now that’s crazy…

I can’t wait for my canvass to arrive… the wait is killing me…ugh…

please hours, give me the base of my lover so I can make love with it soon…

I want to touch the base, brush my hands in each single pore with my thick moist neons… I will scar its surface with my sharp palette knife and watch it bleed in the palm of my hands…a colorful wave of the blood in me…

…hunger…I’m famished…

I crave…oh hours, send my lover soon while my hunger is insatiable… I cannot sleep at night thinking about the taste…the taste…I could feel it in me…I am burning…fever…that’s what it is...a pulsating rush in between my thighs…ahhhh….oh hours…I shiver in the dark thinking…thinking…fill me in…fill me in…

Me and my senseless blah

I chanced upon someone’s blog today, it scared me how some people opt to steal someone else’s words and use it as their own…like a fuckin’ photo copy! If anything in life has a byline, what she’s done is a crime…suicide of thoughts, that’s what it is…

I saw so many artworks and photograph these past days, me and my friends went ‘art hopping’…some works are worthy of attention, some plain fluff and hurried art…some so deep it burns a hole in me, my thoughts were in combustion, it scared me so I closed my thoughts before it fogs up with all these influences…I was in a photo gallery today, a photographer was showing the works he’s done, I left the room and hurried home before my ideas are clogged up…influences…it’s scares me, I do not want to borrow from the fruits of their own sadness…I have a lot on my own…inspirations, that what these things should be…

I am jealous of another artist, a real talent, her black ink surges and falls right through me…I wanted the same beauty her hands created, she kissed me in the mouth way back, I wish I could have swallowed her talent as well…she didn’t need depth nor sadness, it’s just in her…she’s fuckin amazing…

My mentor was teasing me the other day, ‘you should go on a long leave, do drugs or something, kill a part of yourself then go back in rage, claim everything back then put it in your art…’ I cringed at the idea, its funny… I told him, ‘Dad, I am crazy already as it is, I do not need drugs nor any more escapes. It will just fail me…’

Drugs, I do not need it to be insane, I am already insane…like drinking coffee, I cannot take it cuz it pulsates in my nerves, I am hyper already, I am my own energizer bunny…nothing outside of me can help…discipline, that’s what I need, cuz I can be a little stubborn…

I am a little crazy according to my friends, but the good part is I am aware of my self… I will scare my self one day if my friends say I’m acting weird and I am not aware of it…if suddenly I cut my ears and mail it to someone, ala Van Gogh, then please bring me to a psych ward… Hello, I think I’m ok, just a little moody and unpredictable when it comes to my emotions but I am ok…am I? Of course I am…shit, I am talking to myself again…that is crazy, but everyone else does it…my cousin said I was acting weird the other night and she thought I was losing it already, I got my ipod and plugged it so loud in my ears and went dancing in front of my mirror while I stare at myself. I do not think its weird, I was just having fun on my own, dancing like no one is around, I don’t care, I dance on the streets while hailing a cab, I don’t think it’s crazy, just cuz you don’t care about what others think it instantly makes you weird? I remember diwata the cheerleader, she asked me about mirrors before, and if I stare at myself, without a bat of an eyelash I said, ‘Of course, I do it every waking moment.’ She said’ then you must be watching your self think.’ Hmmm…could be…she’s also a little crazy but I think she’s smart…

The crazies, I am always in awe with their world…I would watch a lot of movies and series about these people… broken minds, they’re the most beautiful because they have no control over themselves…

Anyway, maybe I should stop already, I say so many senseless blabbery…a friend said something about a bill board, it says ‘Just cuz you’re ‘unique’ it doesn’t mean you’re useful’…and when I reacted he said, ‘but I still love you.’

Words from my mouth to yours

The diwata asked me to shower her with words…for some reason I think I ran out of them, I know now my role in life and it feels good, but sad as well…I am not a character made for just one, I am for the world, and my heart, my heart is mine, whole…it feels so damn good that I know where it rests…inside of me and lent pieces with the people that surrounds me…

I told the diwata, before you ask someone to hold your heart for you, make sure its whole, and yours to give, do not let anybody hold it for you when someone else is beating its name, you will just hurt the one you lend it to…and guilt has a way of turning its way around, it breaks us into pieces…

I am young but I am so grown up inside, my sadness is mine and no one else understands the depth of it…it resides in me…

I told myself repeatedly that I do not want to be like the people who inspires me, cuz they nudged their hearts aside so that they can be married in what they love to do…thus they are successful in life but love is a last priority…its saddened me last year when I realized this so I went scavenging for love in the most unruly places, but it broke me in more ways than one…then I went back reborn…whole again…not cold, just whole and grown up with head as clear as the water I drink…in life, when you choose your heart first it will catch up on you before you can even get yourself out of the ravine you dug yourself in…I was watching a showbiz talk show earlier and there it is again, annulled marriages and separated hearts…it is sad…I do not want to be one…I hear myself whispering, ‘heart can wait, let the world hold it for you first…’ when you leave your happiness for someone else and not your own it will make you sad…

I asked my photographer friend to take a photo of me yesterday cuz I wanted to see how I looked now, he said, ‘I want you not to smile for the camera, and your eyes to look straight up at the lens and show me the person that you are now…the person matured and in control of her life’…I asked myself, is that me? But I have so much to learn, the problem is I am 50 years ahead in thinking...but its just thinking…a person will not understand until they were in the situation…situations, more will come…it will weaken me but I know I will always stand tall…

Bathe in me, I am rain falling from the sky, but water, it dries before you can hold it…breathe me I am air, it will brush against your skin, but you cannot own it…