A Glimpse on Reality
Monday, May 29
It's been around a week since I last saw this picture, but still, amidst bouts of great lucidity brought upon by boredom, I can't help but let this image of extreme poverty drift to my mind and bring about a sudden twinge of heavy depression cloud my entire being. It feels a bit like being stretched to eternity, a feeling that I'm sinking very deep yet the other end of me is locked to the surface. but what can I do but write about it? Maybe I'm a coward, weaving these web of lies to shelter me from the hideous truth, it's in times like these that really make feel like a deadbeat.
Kevin Carter tried to scare the bird off by the way, but he immediately left afterwards. He suffered from depression, which is not surprising, given the dilemma he faced as a war photographer. *sigh*
thrown by A.Paul @ 10:53,
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The Art of Absorption
Saturday, May 27
How much longer must I deny my own existence? How much longer must I wear this mask of compromise and superficial lies? How much longer can I keep the anguish at bay?
I am a prisoner, branded as a savage, locked up in the prison of my own making. A plastic bubble, where the metaphysical core is seen but not heard. The warders keep vigilant watch over this freak on a leash, denying me the right to remain silent, scrutinizing every aspect, using every word against me, exploiting my weaknesses, and struggling to keep me bound in these chains of indecision.
On the exterior however, is a multi-faceted glass emblem, shaded with the tint of the sly and the cunning, and layered over with the dark shroud of shadows. The prison of unending torture, where my bloodcurling screams of agony reverberate through the halls of brick and limestone futilely.
Through the years, I have learned the art of absorption, taking the hits, absorbing the blows, going with the flow and swaying to the will of the wind. I have adapted and weaved a web of illusory truths and deceptive virtues from the broken figments of my imagination. Within this web, I preserve what little freedom I have, in the hopes of misleading myself into this genuine hoax of freedom.
It is in this prison where I have bled and accepted my fate, the inevitable fate of the black sheep. I shall walk this world of evils forever, surrounded by multitudes yet alone, hammered in the forge but left cold. I will continue on living, knowing full well that I am the only one of my kind, and I will remain misunderstood for eternity. Such is the fate of the estranged.
In light of recent events however, I acknowledge that I have not been myself, and these accidental breaks in the dam of emotions are proving to be quite fatal. I plaster this holes and cracks with more decpetions, to evade and dissuade the possibility of a lethal flood.
The only refuge is solitude. But even solitude is a mere mirage. I can run from my pain, but I will tire before it does. I know that wherever I may run, wherever I may hide, I will always be a slave to my self, haunted by the cadavers of my past. There is no sanctuary nor haven in this plane, only blinding searing pain.
Nonetheless, I shall push on, to find out for myself what reason for living is left for a decrepit imbecile. For I know that someday, I shall find my own solace in the warmth of the Elysian Fields, and I shall molt and shed this skin of sorrow.
thrown by A.Paul @ 11:37,
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Cloudburst
Tuesday, May 23
A dark shroud hovers
And a deep commanding voice booms.
The first volley casts shivers
Finally, a heavy downpour blooms
Have you come to cleanse me of this grime.
That forms a lurid veil of guilt on my head
A result of all my crimes
Against the forgotten and dead
Or do you come as a fiend and not a saving avatar
Scheming to nourish this seed of darkness that has long been dormant
And soaking me to awaken an abattoir
To finally corrupt what was once adamant
The wind howls but I hear no answer
Just the continous shower of raindrops
I am finally force to take cover
From your vicious thunderclaps
Drenched in you I shall forever ponder this puzzle
This twinge of sorrow you inflict upon me
Everytime you visit in a drizzle
Why? I shall grope for the answers for all eternity
thrown by A.Paul @ 08:50,
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Damn Meralco!
Monday, May 22
Finally! I’m online once again after 9 days w/o electricity. Our house has been powerless since Saturday last week, and its took the damn Meralco crew 6 freaking days to arrive, only to tell us that they won’t repair it because it’s listed as a problem the customer should solve. The customer assistant at their call center to stand by and wait for six days, for what? To diagnose the problem and pass the burden upon us! Heck, I wasn’t able to leave the house to chill off somewhere because I was waiting for the damn crew to arrive, which they said would arrive anytime. Anytime when? Anytime this year?
We couldn’t have lasted the heat and mosquitoes if not for our gracious neighbor who lent us an extension cord plugged to one of their sockets. But of course, we didn’t want to scrounge on our neighbor’s good graces, and we also feared that we might overload our neighbor’s circuit, so we only used the extension cord for a fan and a water cooler.
We followed-up with Meralco’s call center around 10 times a day, and they apologized and explained that their repair crew handled the whole province of Cavite, including Muntinlupa. WTF? For all the big bucks they’re raking in, Meralco can only afford one repair crew per province? Then I remembered that Meralco was under the money-hogging Lopez Group of Companies (I think so….), which has been known for putting profits over quality service. Remember ABS-CBN’s exclusive “live” coverage of the Pacquiao-Morales rematch? In which they actually aired more TV ads than the fight itself, with the 1-minute breaks between rounds stretched to 5 minutes to accommodate those ads. And who could forget the Ultra Stampede which claimed more than 70 lives? Also, what about the Oracion and Emmata from the ABS-CBN-sponsored Philippine Mt. Everest team who went on a “reconnaissance” climb after GMA unveiled their sponsorship of Garduce? (I have nothing against Oracion and Emmata, but I’m under the impression that ABS-CBN might have forced them to hurry toward the summit of Everest, which is very dangerous due to the thin air causing complications on the body) And going back to Meralco, what bout those once hidden fees that now appear on the bill with new fancy nicknames? There’s one listed as Environmental fund, as if Meralco abides by the laws of DENR. These Lopezes should really stop thinking about fattening their coffers and start focusing on reliable quality service.
To make matters worse, my father decided to relocate the meter of the house, which is surprisingly “complicated” due to the various paperwork involved. Heck, even the Meralco guys were puzzled, if not appalled, by my father’s decision. And so, here we go again, waiting patiently again for the Meralco slowpokes to finish everything up.
thrown by A.Paul @ 10:36,
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Clandestine
Friday, May 12
What is this enmity that has befallen the land?
Gripping everything with fear through a dark shroud of toxic sand.
This perturbation has brought upon me vicissitude
And now I see clearly Life's verisimilitude.
What is left to behold?
But a sun grown cold?
Nothing but a barren miasma,
Ruins of former splendor and charisma.
To whom then do I run to?
To men of power in the chateau?
Or to the masses stuck in the dungheap of poverty, clamoring for rice?
Neither of them still have virtue--only a price.
I see this Change as unnatural, a fetid disease-ridden mutation.
And in response, I turned to self-mutilation,
Tried to render myself devoid of emotion
In the hopes of evading the impending perdition.
Throughout the bloody upheaval,
This visage of my former self has succeeded with its survival.
This unfeeling cold stone statue I have created,
Unflinching, yet doomed to be obliterated.
If they say that "You cannot know Pleasure unless you know Pain",
Then saying that "Only through Death can we truly live life" is justly sane.
Perhaps only through the icy grave
Can we experience the welcome warmth of being saved.
Death then should not traumatize
But instead trivialize
This meaningless existence in this temporal world
In this stolid bundle of rotting flesh and frail bones, all of which are gnarled.
Maybe, this final act of self-immolation
Is the only way to free ourselves from repugnant devastation,
And only by willingly sentencing oneself to blight
Can one enter into the light.
-A Suicidal Imbecile
thrown by A.Paul @ 16:04,
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