T.B.L. Vol. 4: Lover's Moon (Season 2)

remember this, a couple of posts back?

T.B.L. stand for The Becklette Lessons. i would like to define becklette as a becky who is of the age of innocence (or lack thereof). anywhere between teen to early 20s. i want to impart knowledge to my brethren who are of the younger set. there are so many of them out there.

if you do not fall within this age range anymore, you have to admit, you were a becklette once. didn't we, at one point in our lives, say this: i wish i knew then what i know now? some of us grow older, but never grow up. maybe, just maybe, this could still help.

i havent done this in a while. people do grow uP eventually, and so i would like to re-write how this goes. i would like to make it a little bit more personal this time around. i don't want to preach, i just would like to voice out what i've been through. and so, for Season 2, i'm rebranding this. it should go like this:

T.B.L. stand for The Becks Lessons. i would like to define becks as a gay guy who is of the age of innocence (or lack thereof). anywhere between teen to mid 20s. young, beautiful, and most often, foolish.

i was, once upon a time, in that phase. you have to admit, you were too. didn't we, at one point in our lives, say this: i wish i knew then what i know now? some of us grow older, but never grow up. maybe, just maybe, this could help. these passages may or may not contain lessons, but they tell a story.



lesson#12: no other gay man

there is a strangE phenomenon going on and it probably has to do with the market being too saturated here in manila. often, you will scratch your head at the fact thaT a number of those "seeking" for potential partners are those that are in relationships.

it probably is one of the oldest sTories of infidelities in our world. you'd meet someone casually, sparks fly, you get to know each other, continue for a month, then boom! you find out he's in a relationship.

a lot of blog posts have been written about this, some rivalling the holiness of the pope, telling you off that what you are doing is immoral and that you would destroy lives (partially true) and you'd go to hell (well, maybe), while on the opposing side, it would be one-upping the indecency of the worst kontrabida slut you can think of, telling you that it's just having fun (partly true) and that you know when to stop (most often, not true).

i learned my own way. there is no right or wrong way to go about it. i say: go fuck each other sore, give him the best damn sex he's ever had but afterwhIch, go exorcist-crazy on him and slap him real hard for his partner. when you hear the door slam shut after he leaves, stand in front of the mirror, and slap yourself real hard for you to wake up. do it twice, if your dream is of the 2nd level inception type. then hug yourself.

plan it out. as soon as you find out he is in a relationship, apply lesson#1 of TBL (look it up), suck it up. then make sure you go out with a bang. this way, you get to have a "taste" of this man whom you've been spending/wasting a good month or so of your life with. you won't get any "what ifs" (what if he has a huge cock? what if he tastes really good? what if he has a mole on his left ball sack... you get the point). doing it oftentimes dispels the curiosity (no he doesn't have a 9-inch magnum more like a 5 incher on a good day; he tastes like lukewarm onion soup and smells like one too, and if that's a mole, then i would have to redefine brownish ball sacks)....my point is, finding out gives you the disappointing answers.

and he would also leave you feeling scared shit from your ghetto act. and maybe, just maybe, he will smell the coffee too and learn.

win-win. at least on your part.



lesson#13: sometimes you are Halle Berry for the Monster Ball winning an Oscar, and sometimes you are the Halle Berry for Catwoman getting a Razzi.

yes, you are Halle Berry. a strong and beautiFul black woman. your sex appeal can cut a man in half. yup. and then you wake up.

sometimes you win big and sometimes you appear to win, but in reality you are just making a fool of yourself. let's take for example: going out to the gay scene a while back. there are some nights where i felt i was not at my best form, and yet, i get to score with that hot guy i've been eyeing the whole night. win for me! but there are nights when i came out in my sexiest, come-fuck-me outfits. i dabbed on my manliest-yet-fruity-but-seductive eau de parfum. i had an after facial glow. and what happened? nothing. it's just me and my hand that night. hahaha.

but what matters is this: you accept the award no matter what it is, with unnerring grace and panache. don't take yourself too seriously. learn to laugh at yourself. the wOrld would then laugh with you, not at you. so simple, yet back then i wished i had this mindset that i have now. i guess youth is really wasted on the young.


lesson#14: you are not your possessions

who knows that i would find a nugget of wisdom in a Disney movie? remember the circle of life? always think of your place in life as part of a greater whole. cliche, i know. but wait.

people often visualize society as a pyramid. i would prefer to think of it as a circle. a circle doesnt have a summit. you don't have to strive to claw your way to the top because there is no top! it's one long roundabout shape. and it could go either clockwise or counter clockwise. and it would always go back to you.

there would always be beckys out there who would always be hotter than you, more popular than you, richer than you. but always remember, that you would always have that something that they do not have. try visualizing the circle and where you are placed in it. you might see them as somewhere ahead of you. but that one thing you have and they don't? well, they also see you the other way around.

there's nothing wrong with aspiring for gadgets that cost an arm and a leg. i know i've been drooling for the latest apple has to offer. i know the prices have been prohibitive because i have to set aside my money for other stuff i need for my new place. and then i see these trust fund gays who walk around waving their i-whatevers like they are trinkets. at least when i get one, every sinGle centavo was from my pocket. i can not place a value to that.

----

happy tuesday! good luck with the traffic caused the humongo-ginormous gathering of the INCs in Manila.

Mad Strings 10: The Reverb

two weeks after the silent storm and i found myself on a shore. i'm not sure where this is, but this new land i'm trekking seems pristine, yet it echoes of familiarity. i suddenly have this surge of energy. "walk, Advent.", it prodded." just walk". and so i skimmed the coastline. the beach looks promising, but the forest over yonder glow like tiger eyes. and i caught myself, smiling in mid leap.


have i told you about my knack for wrestling tigers? no? ok, then. here we go...

--

do you have this predisposition to always fall for the wrong person? join the club. somehow, someway, i always get those who are: in relationships, just got out of a relationship, can't get over a relationship...bah! i already checked the mirror several times. do i have a look that scream: come get me, you dick baits?! di naman. do i have a magnetic effect to these tortured souls? do i scream: "sanctuary! come hither!" masokista ba ko? baka.

--

i have not experienced the "joys" of having a hangover. ever. seriously. when my friends and i go out for a bacchanalian night and i go drink 'til we get so smashed it's not even funny, the next day, i'm fine while all my silly friends are nursing a throbbing head (yung sa taas).

i guess my body is just "engineered" that way.

so here i am several weeks later, back to my cheery 'ol self. i bounce back easily. too easily in fact, i think it's kinda eerie. correlation to my lack of hangovers? maybe.

or maybe i just have a very efficient defense mechanism.(hmm...a topic for another post. pwede.)

--

for all its worth, Happy EDSA revolution day. or whatever the holiday is called. we have come a long way from the ways of old, but somehow not far enough. change comes not from the government and who sits on the chair of power. do i want to contribute? well, hell yeah! but have i done anything for the society? let me get back to you on that.

Mad Strings 9: Go Solo

synapses fire. bodies gyrating to the beat of the music. and then. there was fire. the coastline of our lips met. how is it possible that we meet people through such unexpected events? is that how the song of time works? you never really hear the symphony. you just feel it, throbbing in your chest.

give in to the passion.

--

despite the initial heat, i don't think i would lie down in the bed being offered. i don't want to. not now. i have blue and purple dreams to pursue. i have a life to put in order. please be still, little tremors.

--

in other news, add me up on BBM and twitter. i'll show you my pin if you show me yours. ;) as for twitter, i picked a random name: @KeanDrey_ism. See you!

T.B.L. Vol. 3: The Game of Chance

T.B.L. stand for The Becklette Lessons. i would like to define becklette as a becky who is of the age of innocence (or lack thereof). anywhere between teen to early 20s. i want to impart knowledge to my brethren who are of the younger set. there are so many of them out there.

if you do not fall within this age range anymore, you have to admit, you were a becklette once. didn't we, at one point in our lives, say this: i wish i knew then what i know now? some of us grow older, but never grow up. maybe, just maybe, this could still help.

lesson #8: the fall

never fall in "love" on the first date then fall out of "love" on the fifth. it's recklessly wasteful to start something you would not be finishinG. you see, that's what make the becky culture so volatile. our people do not put value into a long and steady phase. nowadays, it's all "i find that itty bitty teeny weeny speck of imperfection in you and that's it, it's over". blame it on the horsed-faced lady from that show about how she found her man despite her horse-faced-ness.

you are not a quality analyst on a production line who throws away the refuse. embrace everything there is in that guy you are dating. just think of it this way: you are not THAT perfect as you delude yourself to be.

lesson #9: sometimes you are the Popoy, sometimes the Basha...
(a.k.a. watch One More Chance)

yes, I am deadly serious. the one with John Lloyd and Bea? yep. that's the one.

this movie speaks volumes of truth about relationships be it heterosexual or beckysexual.

even though lesson number 2 (TBL vol.1) explicitly said that there is no such thing as a 3-month rule in the becky world, we can relate to these heterosexual rules:

-there is always an inevitable end.
-either you will get your heart trampled upon, or you are the one who did the trampling.
-make up/break up sex is the hottest.
-losing someone could drive you to your madstrings.
-friends are the anchor to your sanity.
-there are also the stupid haircuts after every break up. (wait, what!? you don't do that?)

and since the becky world is getting smaller and smaller nowadays (everybody is somebody's ex), you are bound to flip flop between the two roles.

although here's my caveat: watch it on DVD and then end the movie when they say their farewell at the UST football field. that is where the movie truly ends.

lesson #10: ...but no, you don't get to speak your lines

yes, in your head it feels good to come up with lines such as:
-
P: "Five years? Itatapon mo lang lahat?"
B: "Kailangan ko to, kailangan mo rin."
P: "Pero ikaw ang kailangan ko."
-
B: "Ang totoo hanggang ngayon umaasa parin ako na sabihin mong ako parin. Ako na lang. Ako na lang ulit."
-
P: "She loved me at my worst. You had me at my best. And you chose to break my heart."
-
T: Mahal mo pa ba siya?
P: Ayokong nakikitang nasasaktan.
T: (She reaches out and softly closes his eyes.) Para kung masaktan man ako, hindi mo makikita...Mahal mo pa ba siya?
P: (He starts to sob) I'm sorry.
-
P: Siguro kaya tayo iniiwanan ng mga mahal natin dahil may darating pang ibang mas magmamahal sa'tin - 'yung hindi tayo sasaktan at paasahin...'yung magtatama ng lahat ng mali sa buhay natin.

dear little drama queen, wake up and smell the celluloiD. life never sets you up to deliver these mushy killer lines. when you are at the moment, all you have are caveman-level thoughts, let alone the ability to utter coherent sentences. you only get to think of these knock out lines AFTER the event.

lesson #11: stop watching sappy love stories

if by any random circumstance you find yourself relating to a movie because the events that transpired eerily mirrored what's in your life, then it just means one thing. damn, your life is boring! why? because someone, somewhere out there, tapping on his/her keyboard was able to map out your point A to point B. it is then when you are no longer unique, no longer adding anything new to the tapestry that is the human evolution of love.

dear, go write your own story! enough said.
--

it's a Friday everyone! go knock yourselves silly.

Staying Up

i guess the last entry was just way too lazy. well at least for me. i could at least tell you what it was about. at least, in bits and pieces.

ok, i wanted to extract myself from this state of single blessedness that i am in. and boy did i really think that i finally got my shot. i met someone.


but alas, the fates may have been setting me up for their amusement. it wasn't meant to be. i tried to be at my best. i gave it the patented advent-style of panliligaw (side note: i always do the panliligaw...somehow, the thought of being the recipient of the ligaw makes me uncomfortable...i guess i'm still a boy deep inside). i always go for the unexpected and the memorable. i gave it one heck of a shot.


...


and then the day he uttered these lines: "don't you think we're better off as friends?". the pain sliced through me like a hot knife through butter.

--

i was supposed to write about what happened between me and the most recent "i-never-got-there" friend. but i figured, the only thing flying out of my mouth/fingers is drivel. saccharine and slow. i'm done with purple prosing. i guess it's just not me anymore. this new me is about empowerment.

so yeah, here i am alone again. single. yearning. oh fuck. i think i'm done with wallowing. at least for now.

hi, i'm advent, and i eat rejections for breakfast.

next!

--

2 entries back, i noticed i got a whopping string of comments. i'm sorry if i haven't replied. but i appreciate it all the same. and i do hope it's about the message of the entry that's coming across and not my, uhm, new look. hehe.

PS. to mr. anonymous...i know all you've been posting is either how fat i am and how unappealing i am to you now. i would just like to tell you to go fuck yourself and i know your IP and i swear, when i find you imma gonna cut your face!

..

i'm kidding. LOL. i completely agree. i'm "fatter" now. thank god. at least i know my weight gain program is working. oh and i can't please everyone, right? wanna go out on a date? wink. LOL.

A Walk in the Mist: A Prologue

One hot summer's day a Fox was strolling through an orchard till he came to a bunch of Grapes just ripening on a vine which had been trained over a lofty branch. "Just the thing to quench my thirst," quoth he. Drawing back a few paces, he took a run and a jump, and just missed the bunch. Turning round again with a One, Two, Three, he jumped up, but with no greater success. Again and again he tried after the tempting morsel, but at last had to give it up, and walked away with his nose in the air, saying: "I am sure they are sour."

This isn't as hard as I thought it would be. 

I've never had a stick of cigarette my entire life. Back home, my mom and my grandma are walking pugons. I grew up swimming in a pool of smoke, thinking that smoking is as commonplace as the air itself. 

As the years passed by, I've probably inhaled more smoke from peers than they ever have themselves. It's easy to spot me in the crowd. I'm the only one without a stick in hand...and the one who keeps on raving maniacally against smoking.

I had a brief but life-changing thought over the weekend. If I must go on extolling the bad effects of smoking on one's health, how different am I to the fox who never got the chance to taste that luscious fruit?

Whose word would you listen to about the war: that of a soldier - all grimy, messed-up, toughened by the trenches; or that of a novelist who went around doing his little researches, all for the aim of literary integrity and poetic license? 

Mark this day for this is the one that will live in infamy (or glory, depending on what side your looking from, right Roosevelt?). My goal is simple: I will smoke for a year, then quit. Can it be more clear-cut than that? In the intermediate period, I will write about the experience as much as I can. 

Am I scared? Two answers: Of course not! and Hell, yes! One stems from the side of me that believes I have insurmountable strength to overcome this, and the other from the doubt lingering in my mind, what if I do not come out unscathed? The first premise is out of pride. The second is out of strong belief in the first premise, but uncertain about how much bodily harm is involved. 

I would have to lay down some rules for myself while in the process:

1. In line with my principle to never make the tycoon roll in more dough than I can ever see in a lifetime, I would NOT smoke any form of tobacco that came out of my own pockets. I would be a professional bummer, a slipshod moocher, a compelling cadge. It's my way of giving the finger to The Man. So, my dear friends, prepare! 

2. My limit is 6. Yeah.

3. In the process, my advocacy would never be put to a halt.

4. When all else fails, I pray.

Today, I was able to down 4 and a half sticks of varying brands: Gold, Menthol, Lights. And so my journey begins. Aesop's fox is now taking measures into his own hands. A simple step ladder would do the trick. Now the question is, will the fruit be something that will give him validation, or will it lead him down to ruin?

I do not have illusions of grandeur that this endeavor would change the world. Heck, it's even possible that nobody would even care. But for all it's worth, if I can plant an idea in others that it is indeed possible, then I will have fuel for my little revolution.

~signed,

Advent

Sept. 21, 2010

ADDITIONAL READING:

http://www.freedom-of-choice.com/AS3.htm

http://www.lcolby.com/index.html

----

oh and...in other news...my new look.

yeah. now pucker up and take it.

Come Hither

damn, i miss writinG.

i usually have plenty of time to write, except when the mind is preoccupied by the affairs of the heart.

speaking of which...

last time i had put my hand down to caress the keyboard was to talk about Venus Raj. rar.

lately i find myself in the clutches of Eros. i didnt really see this coming. but i've dreamt of it. and somehow i am beginning to think that The Secret actually does work.

i have always been Love's biggest fan. and this time around, i'm watching what could possibly be his latest and greatest performance.

at this point in my life, i feel that there is a whole wide world out therE. i left the world i'm getting too comfortable with because it can no longer handle my corners. i've outgrown it's walls. what held me once in rapture is now but a fleeting memory. you see, life is maniacally devious. just when you think you've seen it all and could never get that feeling again, bam! it hits you like a runaway truck.

whatever happens, i always go back to writing. it's a lovely sensation to hear the echoes bouncing off the walls of my mind.

a commenter in the previous entry said that he finds my stilted views entertaining. that really made me smile. everyone is stilted, some just more so than the others. and who can be more stilted than blogger who named his blog as such?

so here's a toast to the madstringsmanifesto, volume 2!

-this entry was brought to you by the color purple.

Mad Strings 8: Set

everyone deserves to be happy. even those of us who have fucked up a lot of times. so when the moment comes, own it. welcome this new phase in your life with aplomb. be scared, but at the same time be a beacon of joy. radiate your light to all the corners of your life. you'd be surprised that the dark and dreary world you have gotten used to, sure looks prettier in splashes of teal and orange. there's the occassional cyan and red. and don't forget the smudges of violets and blues. 

it's funny how life turns around at the most unexpected times. you've never found love in the office? bam! there you go! you've never dated someone so dastardly adorable? bam! there he is in front of you, holding your hand.

don't you just love periods in your life when all of a sudden the radio stations suddenly become the soundtrack? they play these songs that fiddle at your heartstrings and speak your truth. wonder not, because you are swooning, oh dear advent. that or there might be a DJ up there, smiling and knowing his cue.

people say you are at your most attractive state when your heart is a-flutter. it's weird because just a few months ago, you were saying that you heart is no longer capable of feeling. you can not be any more "a-flutter" than this.

T.B.L. Vol. 2: Trust and Guns

T.B.L. stand for The Becklette Lessons. i would like to define becklette as a becky who is of the age of innocence (or lack thereof). anywhere between teen to early 20s. i want to impart knowledge to my brethren who are of the younger set. there are so many of them out there.

if you do not fall within this age range anymore, you have to admit, you were a becklette once. didn't we, at one point in our lives, say this: i wish i knew then what i know now? some of us grow older, but never grow up. maybe, just maybe, this could still help.

lesson #5: the timeline

as we are going through the becklette stage of our lives, we are afflicted with what i would like to call Temporalis Delusionis - the general lack of perception of time. a relationship built up in a fortnight (read: 2 weeks) is deemed valid and consummate, and a month is considered an eternity. what makes it more intriguing is when asked, the 2 weeks (or the 1 month) mentioned above is in reality a date or two over the weekends. 

let's put it in to perspective shall we? here is a very common case: a becklette relationship that claims to be in its 3rd month. wow, at first you are impressed. you go: "in becky years kasi that is times 2 because it's harder to maintain than heterosexual relationships" (i love becky logic!). now ask the lovely couple: ilang beses na kayo nagkikita, yung totoo? faced with this question, you'd be surprised that the so-called 3 months are actually, seeing each other over the weekends to watch a movie, go on a "date" of sorts and then going to their separate homes. let's do the math. let's be on the generous side, let's say they really dedicate the weekends to each other. Saturday and Sunday equals 2 days. 2 days multiplied by 4 (weeks in month), multiplied by 3 (actual duration). 24 days! realize that, we were generous here thinking that you spent both days of the weekend together. that's not even a month! that would be cut in half if they only saw each other once a week. 

and yet, there are so many becklettes or thunderbecks (coined by soltero! yeh boy!) out there who beat themselves up saying: "am i cursed? how come i never get past (insert length of time here) with anyone?"

maghunusdili ka! as you will (and should) realize down the line: you could never, ever get to know the totality of someone even after spending a lifetime (read: several years).

on the flipside, here's how you should look at it. do away with counting! you can make every moment count. the moment you start counting, you are just trying to validate the belief that you can make a relationship last. if you were sure about the guy in the first place, would there be a need to count?

which brings me to...

lesson #6: trust issues

remember this saying: "love is like giving someone a gun, having them point it at your heart and trusting them to never pull the trigger"?

my dear becklette, lemme say this: bullshit! in a becky relationship assuming you get past the honeymoon, ligawan, malanding kilig phase, either one of you is bound to cheat. there goes never!

that is a sordid reality. i'm sorry if this is a bitter pill to swallow. but you have to live in the reality we face today. if i may rephrase the saying:  love is like giving someone a gun, having them point it at your heart and expecting them to pull the trigger. when that happens, draw from that strength within you to heal, survive and wipe off the blood stains on the floor. 

ang haba no? but lengthy and more apt to our line of business. the love in our world is measured by the event AFTER the cheating. part of love is forgiving. let's say you found out he cheated, do you still have that capability to forgive? then tabula rasa. then by some god knows what reason, you cheat, does he have the capability to forgive? then tabula rasa. if at one point, the capability to overcome and forgive is already diminished, then part ways.

a simple excel equation (equation na naman?): IF "love" > "anger and pain", THEN "save relationship". IF "anger and pain" > "love", THEN "escape before you go crazy with plans of retribution!!!".

if i knew back then this simple equation, then it would have spared me and my partners, the waterworks. but then again, what would life be without the stories worthy of being aired on "Maalaala Mo Kaya"?

do not lose hope though, young one. the heart is made of a rare material that can withstand apocalyptic disasters. it is the one thing that makes us humans transcend. for every lashing you get scars. but the scars make you stronger. wear it proud! and do not be afraid to take more.

think of it this way: you survive ordeals and they change you for the better. you are not the same person than when you first started. you are more resilient and you have more capacity to love. so in effect, you make the next person you love a very lucky individual. he benefits from that wealth of wisdom. and it pays forward. i believe the most ideal love stems from a relationship where both parties are already "war veterans". if only both know how to make use of their medals.

lesson #7: pain and how it's related to the penis

pain is temporary. cliche. 

however, becklettes who dwell on pain several months after the fact, are not really in pain. what they are experiencing is a fate that most becklettes deny: they are stroking their bruised egos.

more often than not, the languishing pain is not really of a broken heart but of wounded pride. pride is the sin most becklette have an overabundance of.

at this point in my life, i've come to a zen like state of defeating the pride monster. for me, it's more of ok, the pain felt for the first few hours is real, anything afterwards is self inflicted pride-stroking. and why waste time?

pride is like the penis. we love showing it off. but if somebody injures it, shames it, we resort to jacking off til the time we want to show it off again.chow's that for a non-cliche? lol.

young one, it's ok to have your pride. but damn, keep it in check! do not let it control your life. just swallow it down. your experience, harrowing as it is, is a stepping stone to your next adventure.

to end this dialog, sing a little ditty.

Love, Hope, Sanity are onboard a bus 

destination: Moving On. 

but the bus isn't moving because one seat is still empty

Love asked, who are we waiting for?

we're waiting for Ego.

we can't leave without him

we can't live without him

but where is Ego?

oh he's in his room,

black and blue, looking out the window

let's all wait for Ego.

we can't leave without him

we can't live without him

--

have a great weekend, you bruised monsters!

T.B.L. vol. 1: The Ex-Factor

T.B.L. stand for The Becklette Lessons. i would like to define becklette as a becky who is of the age of innocence (or lack thereof). anywhere between teen to early 20s. i want to impart knowledge to my brethren who are of the younger set. there are so many of them out there.

if you do not fall within this age range anymore, you have to admit, you were a becklette once. didn't we, at one point in our lives, say this: i wish i knew then what i know now? some of us grow older, but never grow up. maybe, just maybe, this could still help.

lesson #1: the ex -pectations

in my numerous trysts with our kind, i must have ran across every single representation of our kind out there. but no matter what configuration they arrive in, you have to expect that sooner or later they will exit your life. it's a cold, hard fact. i just want to be upfront about it. it may be as spectacular as how they entered it, or it could just be a sputter.

in life, or specifically, in becky life you will probably have 4 great ex-es (plural of ex-). those 4 ex-es would determine how you go about in your other non-serious flings. they would always be the mold that you would pattern the replacements to.

lesson # 2: there is no such thing as a 3-month rule

wake up. you are not john lloyd (or bea, if you prefer). that concept is for them straight folks. they want to fool themselves into believing that there should be time after every break up. it's a way to give time for their wounded egos to heal.

as beckys we have more ego to spare than the straight ones. so much in fact, it seeps out. so no matter how desperate you are after a break up, most probably it's because you've only experienced it a couple of times. toughen up, soldier. you'll get to a point where you would soon be impervious to the coldness it brings. it's like stitching up a flak jacket. the more inexperienced you are, the thinner it is. as you face more wars, the flak jacket can take more shit coming your way and the higher the probability you'll escape unscathed.

lesson # 3: there is always life after death...

of the relationship, that is. don't despair. if you will, try to let it simmer for just a day (3 at most), but not more than that! anything longer than that and it's just self-flagellation. what you come out as, depends on you. would you be a monster, ready to devour a hapless soul to get your revenge or do you take the high road and become a better man? you don't have to worry what road you take. everybody would eventually take both paths. it's just a matter of when. you would never know how it is to be a better man if you do not face the monster that is within. and likewise, how can you be a beast, if you don't know where to strike the honest man where it would hurt the most?

lesson # 4: do not lose yourself, but LOVE for all it's worth

give your 60% in every relationship (the remainder is what you keep true to yourself). a relationship that imposes you give more than this means you are taken for granted. let me tell you this, it would not end pretty. you see that splatter on the ground that was once a human becky? yes, that's what happens when you've lost the ground under you. you fall...to your death.

despite this, love like the end of the world is coming tomorrow. try to squeeze every single ounce you can out of it. never let go if you can still fight for it. always give it a shot. you never know.

for all it's worth, love!

be a romantic-realist. i know i am. ;)

Mad Strings 6: The Sly Ones

would you bite the hand that feeds yoU? the younger, less calculating me, would have. now, i ask: how do you extricate yourself from the feeling of being part of a bureaucracy?

power begets power. and those who get a taste of it feel like they need more. some aspire for the zenith all at the expense of trampling on other individuals. others want to be a beacon of integrity but fear the waves crashing on their sandcastles. do you sell out to reach the goal or do you hold on to your ideals even if it means losing?

it gets complicated when your dreams are at stake. ideals or dreams? which hold more weight? can your ideals sustain you, nourish your body, give you a roof above your head? can your dreams keep you from being ashamed of what you've become?

the struggle for balance is precarious. it's like walking along a path on the edge of a jagged cliff. one false step, and you kiss the gloom below.

why does it have to be like this? 

--

Mad Strings 5: Monday Somnambulist

the walls are staring at me. and i think i left my soul slumbering in bed. my mind is wandering off into daydreams. next thing i know, there's a sunflower on the carpeted floor in front of me, another flower with guns for pistils shooting at me. and here i am, dodging the pellets. 

my phone is ringing but when i pick it up, it's a red gummi bear. the bear whispers in my ears. i'm ticklish, you know. stop it! i know somebody is talking to me but i just hear the waves in the ocean.

i look up the definition of wonrotpsm. i think i read it somewhere. on the wall. or something.

have i told you my most favorite character in The Sandman is Delirium? She was formerly called Delight. until that thing happened. colored fishes in bubbles! Morpheus is next. he named his son after me. or something.

i take one more hit. more colored bubbles! and in the shape of boys! something popped them, one by one. oh wait, those are my fingers.

the tea party started 14.321 minutes ago. i can't find my bowler hat. i'll be late. hold the elevator for me, please.

who is the sandman? by gaimanms

Mad Strings 5: On Winning

rather than loathe them, be grateful of the people who sow envy and malice on the grounds of your success. the most breathtaking gardens in the world can not survive without the snails and earthworms. who would be better to eat your dust? they would soon learn that they are on a fools errand. without the hate, you can never feel the love. be gracious. smile.

~this inspired by you, ms. Botticelli. may you find your peace. i could never please everybody. i don't aspire to.

--

ok, for the second time around, ladies and gentlewomen, my 49th posT. after this, i'll let loose. i want to keep my posts constantly coming. but i want to balance quality with quantity. i don't want this to be twitter. 

--

to all, happy father's day!

Mad Strings 4: Try Sleeping With A Broken Man

i pray you won't hate me for that last time we shared the night together. i just couldn't bring myself to do it. not with you. not anymore. i have a faint glimmer of that feeling, but as the days go by it gets dimmer. i now see you in a different light. to touch you, to feel you, these are the things i can no longer do.


i know you blame me. you think i'm telling you lies. well i'm not. at least, not this time. i tried sleeping in your bed, but it did not contain the me you've come to know. he's not here anymore. i've told you time and time again. 


i'm not being egotistical. you broke me first. you have to go on without me. this is not retribution. it's just but the rational progression of things. i have other plans now. i have the world to see, to breathe, to touch.


i used to be a broken man. i'm at a different place now. i guess this is the best time for you to go find your pieces too. 

-
alternative title: an open letter to my ex.

A Simple Prayer

oh g-d in heaven,
please grant this country a change. it's about time. please end the tyranny.

whoever wins in the election, grant him the wisdom to act accordingly.

g-d give the mandate to the one who deserves it.

we need a change. we need to live.

Mad Strings 3 : 3 months after break up

i despise myself during this void between relationships. 

i am at full control of my faculties, yet the reverie is just too tempting. i get into the harmony, i play the tune. i thrust into the chords and i fiddle with stings. i go into a high. just when the orchestra sounds so good, the moment the crescendo comes around, i stop. abrupt. no explanation. silence. i move on to the next piece.

there's a certain musicality when people start a relationship. if you listen close enough, you can hear it. i've often been told i have a good ear. so why does lady luck tease me and i always end up finding a discordant tune to go with mine?

vulnerability has never been my thing. well, at least after i turned a quarter of a century old. lessons. at the end of the day you are just accountable for your own heart. what people do with theirs is their own sordid business. 

Mad Strings 2: On Call

it doesn't matter who starts iT. you could be horny, or curious how he sounds when he moans, or just in need of a release. come on, admit it, you're just playing along, right? curious as to what nasty thing the other guy on the line would say to you,, aren't you? on rare occasions, when you get a guy who is so into it, you give in.


motioN. you start touching yourself. groovin' to the beat of his guttural moans. it gets faster and faster, or slow and deliberate. like a wave crashing back and forth. 


both of you start doing brush strokes on a canvaS. subject: anatomy.  you create the atmosphere, the venue, the circumstance for this encounter. 


he then talks about taking you so forcefully, you end up black and blue lateR. but who cares, right? illusory soreness go away at the speed of thought. you let go of your inhibitions and start mind fucking him from here 'til sunday.


your pulse starts to risE. you can feel your muscles tense. you tell each other how close you are to the edge. each one trying to out-moan the other.


he tries to catch his breath as it erupts over hiM. you drench yourself in your love. 


spenT. sometimes the best sex, happens in the mind. you hang up. you then wipe away the imaginary spoil. no matter which way it goes, you always end up feeling silly on the inside.


aka, S.O.P.s
Advent

Mad Strings 1

"trivial matters are tranquil seas of deception. never let your guard down. know when your so called apprentice conceals a dagger behind the veil. take on the guise of water. learn how to ebb when the time calls for it, then surge when the opportunity arises. water can never be stabbed. drown him in torrents of his own iniquities."

-Advent