Archive | August 2010

~johanne~

One melodious strum on his guitar

sang arduously in to my heart

and with the murderous faint of his voice,

my world seemed all in motion.

All else was a  squabble of noise

blending into the charcoaled air

His songs were etched of glasses,

cutting through thick mists of red rain.

I see his music swirling about my head,

ransacking another serenade’s stead;

endowing life to the ones that were dead

and the living all have gone to fled.

His gaze burns the veins under my skin

and bursts of a billion cries within.

every strand of my hair yearns for him

like my life siphoning out of my dream.

That dream where rockers and cosplayers

conquered, stripping me off my dress.

Stepping like a mile closer to his oblivion

They hail me Queen, chasing my Ascension.

Where he would be with the twilight

waiting for my Resurrection. And

we would sing and make love until the

breaking dawn kisses the dead of night.

mengkukulem

Posted on July 10, 2006 by gothica-eternia.

OLD SHE: “Ay Diyos ko! ano ba to? Mangkukulam!”

blink.

BLINK.

ME: “AKO PO BA?”

eh malamang ako, ako lang naman ang katabi nya sa jip noh. hmpf! ang mga matatanda talaga, exaggerated. ganda ng araw ko mangba-bad3p agad..baka gusto nyang..ehem..

ten to fifteen minutes later…

YOUNG SHE: “encuse me miss..sayo to?” (hawak si Dione, ang aking self-made voodoo doll bracelet.)

ME: “ah opo..salamat.”

YOUNG SHE: “iha,magabago ka na..baka di ka mapunta sa langit.”

blink.

blink.

ME: “??? sabi ko nga po eh.” <tae>

ano bang meron bat ako palagi ang pinupuna ng madla? dahil nakaitim ako? makapal ang black eyeshadow ko? nagmumura ang chadelier black earrings ko? agaw eksena ang black nail polish ko? ang black bag ko? knee high black socks ko? at halos buong braso na ang natatakpan ng mga black accesories ko? MANGKUKULAM NA AKO?!

HINDI AKO MANGKUKULAM!

although gusto ko maging mangkukulam,hndi nmn xa uso sa manila..sa province oo..kya trying hard magpaka witch pero ung halos may atakihin na sa puso dahil sa takot sa akin at kulang na lang ay i-pray over ako para di masunog ang kaluluwa ko sa impyerno..pwede ba?! ang OA HA!

PUNK! THRASHER! GOTHIC!

iyon ang appropriate term for your info! hmph!

mabait ako at front lang ung pagsumpa-sumpa kuno sa mga kaaway ko! duh?! katoliko akong banal mga tae kayo..mahilig ako makipag-away at makipagmurahan sa kalye pero sino ang walang bahid ng kasalanan ni eba sa katawan?

like duh??! ang mga gurangutas talaga!

blech!

CINDERELLA

Posted on November 24, 2006 by gothica-eternia.

The Question: “This year’s theme for the Fanta-IAS-tic week is: IAS @ 72. Soaring high through a unified community. But what if the community doesn’t want to be unified? Would you still consider it a unified community?”

The Answer: “I will not consider it as such, but I can help in making it one. I believe that the foremost factor to be considered in a unified community is genuine acceptance of other people’s flaws. Because once we’ve learned to embrace their imperfections…

-deafening applause and standing ovation-

– my nerves quivering all the more –

– I gestured a hand to stop the commotion-

-silence-

“…We may now undergo a hand in hand construction of the citadel of unity. Thank you and good afternoon”

-Another standing ovation and a series of more deafening yells. –

I was still gasping for breath even as I had been drowned by the curtains and my knees wanted to give up on me, but the lingering thought that I had given my best shot and the overwhelming cheer of the audience kept me on balance. It’s over, I did it. I had exhibited everything I got, beauty, talent and intellect, as I graced the stage of the FEU auditorium last November 21, 2006. To represent the literature department in the first ever Mr. and Ms. Institute of Arts and Science for the 72nd celebration of the IAS foundation Week. I never thought this day would come, never in my wildest dreams. But I did, and it was something never to be eradicated in my memories. My very first beauty pageant, I ended up victorious. . . .

First category: Projection of Org. Shirts

My jaw fell on the floor as I came into the dressing room jam packed with the candidates and all together with their ever trusty gay beauticians lugging humongous baggage of make up and gleaming tiaras and sparkling accessories. I couldn’t believe my eyes with the scenario. I thought it would just be a simple pageant, fellow classmates acting Fanny Seranos and Rene Saluds but behold! The dressing room was an instant gay salon! Good thing my mom didn’t trust me much with the way I fix myself up and decided to go with me. I felt sorry for myself that nobody would give me space so we ended up in a corner beside the toilet. Boohuhu worse, nobody followed the policy: Org shirt oh alright, but with uber mini skirts all sequined up and absurd looking plus cowboy hat and combat boots? And a trench coat for full effect! Tae, I was the only one in my elephant denims and sketchers and feeling all unglamorous, I sought for rescue from my handy goth vanity kit and thick eyeliner and mascara. If you can’t beat’em, then join ‘em! I pulled up my shirt way up, perhaps an inch below my chest and tied it at the back and pulled my pants down to exhibit my perfect size 24 waistline! Well, I had no other gadgets to put on some drama but at least I hat the guts. In fact, I had a lot of guts that the pageant covers 8 pairs and I was the 9th candidate, the only candidate of our dept ( My man backed out due to unexplainable stage jitters probably so I was left with no other choice but to muster up all my courage and say: “Yes, I’d still do it, with or without him”. Because I thought he was kidding, and nah uh uh…gulp!) So I went off and did my thing, shook my booty for the world to see, under the spotlight, a thousand and 200 people staring at me. At that moment, I’ve only thought of doing something unique to somehow leave a mark, so I did my usual boyish strut, I pulled my sleeves up so that my incredible muscles show and tossing a sharp, serious glances on each judge, I wooned the attention of the audience and they cried “astig!” and “angas!” instead of the preferable “Wow! Ganda! Sexy!” tags.. Well, in fairness I’m Mr. and Ms. IAS in one! Carry mo!

Second category: Sports wear

I felt somewhat hesitant to wear my all white and red tandem for my tennis wear, all good purchase from the Ukay-ukay and a donated red tennis racket from my goody adviser. Thought ‘twas a cool attire, before I saw all my comrades wearing signatured equestrienne/cowgirl-with-real-whip/cheerleader/archer and shooter attires. I felt like a rag doll at the second and all I had was some nerves and prayers . What can I say? They got money to splurge, I got charity funds! Well, there’s nothing more to do about it, I’ve prepared myself for the unconscious utter humiliation of it all! I guess this would be the last straw, showing up my face in public in rag clothing! First two categories busted. I’m a hopless wrench. Audience impact was a horrible 3 or 4 percent out of ten! T_T

Third Category: Evening Gown

After 2 painful categories passed, my third lifted up my down-in the dumps spirit when I slipped my tangerine tube gown with a huge peekaboo on the waist to the back . Thought some were to be mistaken as porn starts in the making: slits as long as a yard, heels as high as 5 inches and plunging necklines down to the navels. I didn’t feel insecure. Because I knew I look good in my gown. Others were trying to seduce the audience, uh I guess, as they exaggeratedly swayed their asses from side to side and showing off their legs from the side slits. My God, boobs and butts everywhere backstage. My package is small alright, but my vital stat is something I’m most proud of. At a height of 5 feet 6 ½ inches, with a figure 32-24-32… the crowd was on my side. And they went more insane as I started off my a-walk-to-remember rampage. Elegant and princessly turn-arounds-ala Miriam Quiambao. Done like a pro! Hah! The cheers and chants sky rocketed my stage presence slash star appeal points that hit a perfect10!.Whoa!! Now it’s a comeback!

Fourth Category: the Question and Answer Portion

Now my moment of truth cam when the just pretty are to be separated from the intellectuals. We were locked inside the dressing room and the first pair was called. Same question for the girls and another question for the guys. I felt the extreme coldness of my sweaty palms, my stomach aint feeling good. I was really nervous. I had to make an impressive notion of the verdict. I can’t fail this portion it’s my forte! I amused myself with the funny antics of my fellow candidates to lessen the pressure in my chest. Some were praying, some farted in fear, some rushed into the toilet and some went wildly crazy yelling “Aaahh! Anong tanong?! Anong isasagot koh!? AAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!” I prayed hard and asked Him to clear up my mind and grant me a well-opinionated perception. Divine intervention spilled from the slightly ajar door as a heavenly beep was heard and ignored but the panic in me was great. I can’t fail this one! Absolutely not this part! I’m a lit major! I’m the most intelligent of them all! Then my name was called and the butterflies in my stomach started fluttering. Oh boy, here it goes. When I went to the stage, incredible increase of my fan base was undeniable!. They loved me na!. The screams even grew louder when the host introduced me.

“And the last but definitely not the least, our one and only candidate for the literature department… Ms. Rose Anne Cruz!”

I was increduluous with the astounding series of chants as they cheered “literature! Literature!” It was like, this is a dream! Oh my God… The host began the question and I could barely hear him amidst the crazy crowd.

(just take a look at the first part of the blog. masakit na ang daliri ng nagtatype)

After the curtains closed, I smiled. Certainly, I gave the answer they were looking for. I made it. I’m sure of it. As I went back to the dressing room, a lot of unfamiliar professors and student officers approached me and even congratulated me. To my wonders, and they all exclaimed…

“You’re the best miss literature!”

“You were excellent!”

“Very very intellectual answer”

“May tama ka!”

“May panalo tong batang to”

“My future ka iha… maganda”

“You have the crowed in your hands Rose Anne”

“Rosy! You’re the Man!”

“TIDIIIIIII!!!!! Ang galing mo!!!!!”

“Ate Rose, ewan ko lang kung di ka pa manalo nyan ha!”

“may Citadel k pang nalalaman ha!?”

“ano ung Citadel?”

And achuhu …..Etc etc. I was in cloud 9. And I never wanna go back to being ignored. Because today, I’m well known….. very well known.

The awarding…

We all lined up and was greeted one by one the Associate Dean (I supposed), when it was my turn, she leaned closer to me and whispered:

“I think you’ve won.”

And she gave her warmest smile. I didn’t really want to expect but how can’t i? almost everyone’s bet was me! I was so certain I had a place but definitely not the Ms. IAS! And my assumptions were confirmed when they announced

“And the second runner up goes to….

(the audience parted bets when they were asked for their respective candidates. coincidentally, it’s another round for LITERATURE versus PSYCHOLOGY!) ahahaha…

-drum roll-

“…Ms. Literature!”

tadaaah!

they handed over my small trophy and the golden sash, plus another round of applause and photo shoots.

hmm..A little frustrated but it’s okay, I’m still a winner! I knew I garnered a perfect score for the Star mind and stage projections of the evening gown but the Org shirts and sports wear were totally down in the dumps. Well, the hell I care? I may not be as pretty as they are, but the knowledge and abilities I was endowed with made them eat my dust! Crown or no crown, I’m still the triumphant one. From being high school reject to a popular runner up princess of the Arts and Science… My ambiguities faded. I’m worth all the applause I got. Thank You Everyone! This is my dream come true. Thanks!

now for my detractors..i dedicate this song to all of yah! sing it…

“AKO….ANG NAGWAGI!!!!!!” by Dulce….lalalalalalalalalala

cum laude: ang talumpati.. bow

Yay! after 2 whole years, i was finally able to access my FS account again. Oh how the memories kept coming back! I read my blog entries and found this one. I recall the super shitty speech for my college graduation. Tadah!

Posted on March 9, 2008 by gothica-eternia.

March tenth, 9:25 am

im counting the remaining days..

25 effin more to go and wooosh!

goodbye dear old freedom park, farewell oh glorious chapel, dusty IAS pavements and denuded Science Buildings..fare thee well beloved retarded academic family and healthy f**kin comrades. goodbye your highness : the ever english speaking tyrant and goodbye madame tycoon who adored my writing but adjudged me first honorable and left me heart broken and stupefied, goodbye yummy varsities and sexy cheerdancers, goodbye epal reliance men who religiously sweep the dust in front of my karekare lunch everyday, goodbye belligerent old sales men in the coop, farewell dear nursing students who steal our rooms during our own classhours. goodbye to everybody who’s been dropped on my list. im too despressed to think.

we shall meet again..if ever you ever and ever reach your fourth year lol i beg your pardon for the ultimate redundancy..im maximizing my imperfections.

i am most willing to transgress the law ive generated myself during the last four years. after all these, i shall once again, enroll in an institute in which i shall develop my socio-individual growth and gradually adapt to a foreign culture until i wholly absorb into the reality of being a bona fide care giver.

thank you my dearest alma mater that honed me to this crap i am now. i shally carry your name to the mainstream corporate society and show them all what shit i can do for the prosperity of this damned country.

*cries a little and wipes tears*

i cant believe its all over. i first walked in appearing to be a stray woodsgirl in the heart of the metropolis, all naive and dumb, scared to talk to anybody. i remember i was with my auntie, she accompanied me yeah..coz i might get lost and never come back home to mommy. i met all kinds and sorts and types and classes (did they make any difference at all?) of people. sons and daughters of politicians, primordial beasts and koreans and africans and americans and vampires and literally, just all creatures of the world. i was coersed, since then, to explore and discover my individuality and to which social group i shall be most freely accepted. it was an effin task but with much effort, i have seen these through. i had laughed and cried, fallen in love and been hurt for the hundredth time, been rejected, been applauded, been admired, been recognized and been rewarded and blah blah ive been everywhere, ive done everything. self fulfillment is attained and i am ready to step out into the real world.

i am selling myself.

free for the first month : yes! no VAT!

flalah..my fingers are frozen and so is my brain. chiao!

Boiling Kettle Water

It was such a different morning.

4:55 am. About a few more minutes and I had to get out of bed and get ready to go to work.

I felt drugged. A couple of weeks ago was just the same as this morning was, and that is so not good.

*tap*

*tap*

“Get up dear, get up now. come on sweetie it’s five now. Get up or you’ll be late”

that’s a familiar ring, resonating back and forth of the walls of my hollow head. I got up, my vision a blur, my ears a buzz, my heart a frustration. I don’t want..to..get..up. I don’t..want..to..go..to..work.

I dragged my foot, then the other, then the other again. Drag, Drag, come on. just a few more steps before the dining table. Oh look at that sweetheart, it’s uhm hmm..fried rice and eggs and hotdog! Oh look there’s another surprise, it’s..it’s..uhmm..smell it. It’s coffee. My stomach churned.

*whistle* (long and eerie)

“Oh dear, the water’s ready. a little faster sweetheart”

I munched, I chewed, I neebled like a kitten.

I went back to my room and opened the cabinet wide wide wide. hmm, black and red? violet? blue or green? Ah, i know..what do I feel today? Alright, there’s my black pants and Black top. oh and look, my red flats and red bag. oh good, there’s my undergarments. my towel was waiting there for me, lying like a stupid old piece of..well..towel.

I went to the bathroom. oh wait I forgot the damned kettle. Too bad. I was too bummed to go back but heck, here it goes. i’m holding it nicely. It was so hot. It was burning my fingertips. Oh look, the bucket’s filled with nice cold water. Get the pail out the stupid bucket and pour out the stupid kettle water damn it.

*pours*

*ouch!* *ouch!*

oooh..it buuurns! I watched in subtle horror as I slid beside the bucket, all mushy and slippery, watched the kettle slip from my clumsy fingers and the boiling water seemingly in a very very sluggish motion pouring out of its mouth. Water and more water flowing nicely over my arid skin. It was nice. it felt nice to feel horrified.

Am i dreaming? asked the foolish little voice. of course not idiot.

I watched and enjoyed, boiling water out the kettle splashing freely over my arms. How could I not immerse myself with this beauty? it feels exactly the way i do. lookie, lookie, it didnt want to join the baby rapids inside the bucket. As much as i didn’t want to go with the rapids as well. my own rapids. I was trying to sail against the current. and boy, was that really effin jerky? (of course)

I just realized, maybe, just maybe, had I not tried to pray for this, will i still be here?