If Nudity Is A Form of Art, Would You Let Me Strip You Down?

let me have the pleasure!

            Wala akong ibang ibig sabihin sa bagay nayan, kung medyo bastos ang nasa-isip mo ay labas na ako sa bagay na yan, bahala ka ng magkumpisal sa paborito mong pare at simulat mag “aba ginoong maria” habang binabasa ang post na ito. Ang title na ito ay isa lamang mockery sa nakakatawang tanawin sa kalsada, labas ng bahay minsan sa umaga.

            Naiintindihan ko na mainit ditto sa pinas, tropical country kasi tayo. Pero hindi naman siguro ganun kainit dito para mag-hubad nalang lagi tyo, ewan ko ba, masyadong mabenta ata dito pag hubo o kaya ay halos hubad kana. Kahit ako lagging naka topless, pero sa loob lang ng bahay. Di naman ako endorser ng brief o pantalon para ipakita lagi ang nakakadiri kong katawan. Tropical tayong bansa, at hindi pa ganun ka init para maghubo tayu lagi.Sa mga disyertong bansa, wala kang makikita na mga topless na lalaki, lahat sila balot-na-balot sa damit, ito ay para wag masunog ang kanilang mga balat mula sa sikat ng galit na galit na araw. Ang mga babae, pati mukha ay tago, hindi lang dahil sa isang tradisyon, kundi para maging mas kapanapanabik sila sa mga lalaki. Samantalang dito, kita mo na panty. Hell yeah!

            Naalala ko pa nung bata ako, bawal sa mga mall sa manila ang naka short, tsinelas at sando. Pero ngayun kahit gusgusin ka pede na. Bata man o matanda ay kailangan sumunod sa alituntunin kung gusto mong pumasok sa mall. Saka ang mga gangster at hip-hop pa nung panahon na yun ay naka loose-shirt di tulad ngayon na naka sando, short at tsinelas na may ga-tuhod na haba ng medyas. Kung dati, kailanagn mong maging disente para makapasok sa mga establishments, ngayun basta carry mo outfit mo, gora!

            Sa ngayun pinapatupad ng MMDA sa kamaynilaan na bawal ang mga lalakeng-topless-ala-matt-damon ang katawan dahil ugat sila ng sakuna sa kalsada. Bakit? Dahil bukod sa nakaka pagdala sila ng init ng ulo, ay nkakapagdulot sila ng sakit sa ulo na humahantong sa pagsusuka, ang dulo? Disgrasya, dahil pag ang driver pag nahilo, banggaan.

            Naalala ko dati, mahigpit sa church pag dating sa attire. Bawal ang short, tsinealas, t-shirt. Pero dati ata yun. Dahil kahit yung naka short natugtog pa din. Yung mga naka polo nagti-t-shirt na after ng P and W. iba talaga pag sariling dugo, grabe tayu mag tolerate.

ooooopppsss.... censored! 

            Nakakita ka na ba ng mga babae na naka pek-pek short? Yung short na short talaga? Bakat ang mga malutuan at pati ang singit ay kita na. binabanas ba ang mga maluto nila kaya ganito kaikli ang short ng mga ito, sabagay, pag maganda naman yung babae at makinis, pabor saming mga lalaki ito. Pero pag kamukha ni nicky, yca o liezel, teka pede bang wag nyo kaming parusahan sa kasalanan na hindi namin ginawa at wag kami ang pagdusahin sa kababuyan nyo, hindi kami natutuwa. Naisip ko l;ang, nag-susuot din kaya si mam pre ng ganito? Pero ang ganitong sitwasyonm ay minor palang, may mas hard-core pa dito.

            Mini-skirt, sinung lalaki nga naman ang hindi natutuwa sa pagkakalikha ng bagay na ito. Karamihan ata sa mga lalaki ay may lihim na pagnanasa at matinding imahinasyon sa damit na ito, kung lalaki ka alam mo na tinutukoy ko, kung babae ka, lapitan mo ko at papakita ko sayu. Ayus lang naman ang mini-skirt, pero yung super-mega-over-mini-skirt, parang nakakatawa ito. Paminsan-minsan makakakita ka ng mga ganito, mga babaeng naka super-mega-over-mini-skirt na abalang-abala sa pag hatak nito pababa dahil kita na ang kanila ytnap. Pag sinusuwerte ka, pati langit at toro-bola ay masusulyapan mo na.

            Pero ang pinaka-nakakaungas sa lahat ay eto, yung mga babaeng lumalabas ng bahay ng walang short o bra tas nka manipis na tshirt lang at nagtatakip ng tuwalaya dahil ayaw makitaan. “kakasalubong ko lang sa isa”. Eh gago pala kayo! Ayaw nyo palang mabastos tas ganayan ang isusuot nyo. Mas matindi pa sa katol ang tinitra ng mga ito. Isipin mo naman, anong utak meron ang mga ito para mag suot ng kabastos bastos na damit tas pag sinipulan mo sasabihan ka ng bastos, pugay kamay! Dapat sa mga ito ay tinatali sa puno at pinapakain sa lamok.

slim type?

            Naiintindihan ko, biblically hubad tayong lumabas sa mundong ito at hubad din tayong babalik sa lupa, at tayo daw mga pinoy ay nang galing kay malakas at maganda na parehas hubo’t hubad ng lumabas sa kawayan. Pero, wag naman sana tayong atat tulad ng mga doomsday sayer na hindi na makahintay sa Kristo at inuunahan na ang may akda ng langit at lupa kung kailang nya ito itatapon sa kumukulong lawa.  Ang damit ay ginawa hindi lang para pamorma, kundi para takpan ang mga dapat takpan at ingatan ang dapat ingatan. Kung maganda ka at makinis, show your skin but not too much, masasawa sayo ang tao. Tandaan mo, satisfaction is the death of desire. Ang mga maiikling short ay ginawa para sa magaganda ang hita at mukha, kung isa kang hipon ay wag ka na sanang umasta na maganda. Ang talikodgenic ay isang bagay na hindi na natin dapat pang talakayin, dahil bukod sa pang talikod lang sila, eh wala ng solusyon sa mga mukha nito, tignan mo nalang si lanni misalucha. Hindi naman masamang ipakita ang iyong katawan ito ay kung ikaw si vin diesel o ariani celeste. Ang pagsusuot ng kabastosbastos na damit ay para lang sa mga taong below sea level ang utak, kung ayaw mong mabastos umarte ayon sa sitwasyon. Walang masama kung itatago mo ang panget mong mukha at katawan, ang mga ganyang baho ay tama lang itago kasama ng mga skeleton sa iyong closte. Ang maganda kapag nagmaganda ay tunay na kaaya-aya sa mata, pero ang panget pag nagmaganda ay panget parin po.

            

Disaterrama…

hell yeah1

            Sadness echoes as I put these words into txt, thoughts keeps blistering my head over and over again, and I supposed sanity hid behind those dark clouds of travesty to give way to their greed. No kudos for them again, I guess.

            Another year, another tragedy, seems like were dancing in an endless waltz of chaos called Disasterrama “sorry it was Christmas party or was it a party after all?” Year after year, we flow from dullness to oblivion and I can almost see the Nazi’s smear at the genocide right before my eyes. Shit fly’s all-over the place to pesterize the evening. Dismay had the right that night to slip from everyone’s lips as we try to hide it with a fraud smile.

            It was another gloomy night and no song of joy to uplift the spirit of the restless, we find no happiness in everyone’s eye, or maybe it’s only us who didn’t enjoy the night. A hollow sound, a dull  place, another mindless presentations, more worthless gifts…what more can I ask for, these time I can see happiness wave goodbye as she sink in the sea of melancholic dream. No more smile, I think it’s time we dine, in a world of no hallucination called pretention and gather up our balls and shout “go to hell!”

            What’s with the venue? I know that the theme this year was “rockista and fashionista” but a garage as a venue for a once-a-year-occasion? Come ‘on, don’t be such a greedy. If this was the idea, then we might as well call it garage party? Am I not wrong? And mind you, rock is not a fashion, it’s an attitude. Wearing a black tight-balls-emphasize-jeans won’t make you a rock star, grow up man, Robin Padilla and Cesar Montano was not and never a rocker, not even Zian Lim who won the title that night. All they can sing is an out-of-tuned-love song which they prefer to sing in their romantic scenes, care for some trash bin to puke on? But as expected, it was an old acquaintance who won the title of Miss fashionista, hands down, she really deserve it. But, let me tell you something, rock was never a clothing line, so can we not make it as a theme on our next disasterrama? Though black is for rock and not for hip-hop, would we please spare us in this travesty? Who among us really listen to a wolfgang music? Thus anyone bang their heads as Malcolm young slams his hair? Is there any other among us who have the balls to squeeze there selves amidst a horde of unethical bacchanals who love to Blistererized others in a mosh pit, the answer is none. It was an efing night for me, and for the first time, it was only a two hour event, no more excuses, everybody packed their things and went home by 12-MIDNIGHT. Even our OO‘s was so disappointed that they took no effort to stay much longer. Okay, the food was great, praise them, but that’s it. Nothing more. Period.

            Apathy resonates as we try so hard to cover up the flaw. Haven’t we learned from our mistake, I mean, what’s with the raffle draw? Are we some grade school that can be bribed with some worthless shit? Go fuck yourself! Don’t be such a greedy please? Haven’t I been telling this in these posts over and over again? Greediness is a state of mind called dilemma where we exorcize happiness from others and indulge in their agony as they strive hard to stay afloat while we joyously push them down.

           

5 yrs. strong that I’d been working as a part of this family and it’s my 6^th time to attend in our so-called-Disasterrama, and never had I’d been dismayed like this! I almost puked when I saw nicky and yca, but that’s another story. Honestly, I for one has hoping for a much greater, an extravagant party that evening. But everything was ruined by these hope, you see hope only causes pain, it’s the lit of anguish that we fear most yet we love to dwell in these insipid thing and we ourselves are to be blamed for these pains. For 5yrs, our former bosses and our former star make sure to have a memorable party, no offense to my best friend, but I wish she had the balls to bite back each time our bosses act upon their dim-witted meats called brain. Maybe for the newbies, having a party at a garage is a kick-ass scene, but in the real world, it’s not, being a stingy is not a cool thing, money won’t buy you happiness, but it can rent a decent place for us to have a much happier party and it can buy lots of beer.

As usual we started late, for I was one of those late comers. I decided to sip some brain freezer with my other pain in the ass workmates. As I said earlier the food was great, but other than that, I think I’ll just shut up and let the others do the talking. And, I think what you’ve read is enough pretexts, and allow me to nag on those fucking things I care none, for I love to dip on things I’m not related to, so would you please put down your pitch fork and wipe of that grin in your efing face. Sit back, and start smashing your keyboard.

First and foremost, to all those insipid who vulgarly told everybody that they wouldn’t attend, stick to your balls man! Your-no-fucking-elvis to be that special, I mean, if what you want to say is you’re not sure, then say “probably” or “maybe” to hell with you. 

Did you enjoy the famous “litson baboy”? it was donated by a fellow friend whom we love to borrow money, a lending investor as one might say. Thanks to her, we might have end up in shortage of food. But what sickens me is this; our OM was not amazed because of the mere fact that she is lending us money with an interest. Let’s just drop off aiza for a moment, and focus on the word “lend”. Is she some idiot or a naïve to know not that carrel was lending money before with far much greater interest? Is she not updated with the latest lender in town? Is she not that thankful that someone given us a decent food, when in the mere fact she’s the one that should have given us a “litson baboy”. Let’s just say that it was only 5k, but can she give us even a 1k worth of food from her own pocket. NGANGA! Where would we borrow? In our store EEF? EMPLOYEE EMERGENCY FUND, so much for the emergency, it would took 6 months before it can be granted, can they even lend as much as 2k, hell no! Fuck off! You’re no one of us to pretend that you know how to live in our shoes. You’re living by stepping in our head. Niggard! Let’s just say, that we had spit in your face, and you’ve taken it as an insult.

Lastly, if you guys want to gulf some brain-freezer-libido-enhancer-drink, make sure that you’re no tight-fisted-niggard. Having you with us was such an honour at first, but leaving us with all the bill, come ‘on, we all need money. Go find somebody else to treat you,.

It saddens me to admit that what happened was far worse than chaos; it was an utter disarray of grief and dismay.  We strive so hard to please your asses, yet you failed to put a worth remembering occasion. Time after time, we managed to survive the everyday ordeal of our company, from broken tiles, to clog grease traps, from late crews to nagging managers, but isn’t it time for us to have some fun? Let’s set aside the difference and let ego dissolve in the storm forgiveness. Cast words of blissful happiness and praised those who deserve to be praised, and as much as possible give those who deserve their wages to be raised. The essence of a Christmas party is put in a simple aphorism; it’s the spirit of giving. If we can’t meet with this, then we might as well sink in turmoil of stingy bosses and let greediness ransack our dreams.

           

            

A Call to Arms

no..not this one!

      Gadgets, who among us who have none one of these? Maybe those vagrants on streets or those vagabonds that’s lost in their own universe, or maybe those unfortunates who live beneath the falling bride of this country or those who live in fear the native regions of Mindanao, but us?

from day 1

      Necessity is the mother of invention, and as the season changes so are these gadgets that make as gaga and craze over and over again. From telegraph to telephone, to cell phone now android phones are swarming our market like a plague that catches as off-guard, dying to have one of the latest. If necessity is the mother of invention then contentment is another question.

      Rapidly, I saw how we craze over the latest gadgets, 15yrs ago, you can count on your both hands those family who have cellular phone on their houses, 25yrs ago you can count on one of your hand those family who have a telephone in a town. Now, every member of a family has its own gadgets, and at times you can count in one of your hand how many gadget one has. From the first computer made, from windows ’94, ’97, 2000, vista, professional and from windows 7 to the new talk of the town windows 8, inventors and manufacturer’s really know how to tingle are minds and get us on our feet, sell our dignity for a small gadget.

Add caption

      Early this morning, a friend asks me to come over his school for a Boy Scout investiture, and there is one thing that I notice, most of those who are there are using tablets. I want to have one of those, as a gaming console for me and my baby. Maybe at times get a picture from its camera. But as much as possible, I would like to have my own camera, DSLR or not, I must have one of these.

      Though, a tablet has its own built in camera, it was never a synonym for you-won’t-need-a-real-camera. I mean, hell you have the dough to buy an APPLE IPAD2 or SAMSUNG GALAXY TAB, then why don’t you buy a real camera? Bragging rights? It’s not a cool thing to wag your 10’’ tabs all over the place like you’re a priest that’s holding the holy sacrament and telling the insipid crowd to vow down. Tablets are tablets; they are made as it is. Not a laptop or an SLR to capture a real life image.

who made this cover...steve jobs?

      Have you seen an I-pad with a cover or a casing to protect it from harsh element? Who ever invented it must have thought of it thoroughly, he was a genius! I mean, he created an accessory brilliantly. Why make an accessory that would cover the godly-apple-logo? Then there was the casing with a hole purposely place in front of the logo. There no use of a casing if you can’t tell the world HEY-LOOK-AT-MY-EFING-TAB! Kudos to you sir!

      I know, a facebook friend thought as that we need no SLR or a DSLR to capture image and be an instant photographer. We were only using camera phones at its limits together with our hearts and mind. Imagination and literature was our axes. Maybe they’re no photo enthusiast, and I’m just a dickhead mumbling on things I’m not associated to.

they must have lots of dough man...

      But maybe, a tablet has many more use than we can imagine. One can use it as a cover when it raining, or from the heat of suns raging fury at summer. Or you can use it as a weapon to smash anyone in the head! Or maybe try these cool guys from the US who made their i-pad a skateboard!

      If you’re reading this I urge you my friend to not only invest on show-off-gadgets, though having a tablet is a nice idea, pls. invest on a good camera to be used on kodakan-moments, in the end, we are still Filipinos who love to smile in front of the camera even when we’ve been hit by a level 5-superstorm, and you’ll find that pictures taken from a high def. camera always rocks! Tabs are gods in your hand, but it can never replace cameras, maybe for now.

sir, lets try hitting you with this and tell me if it hurts?

      

Worms of the Earth…

Rotten deep inside, we pretend to shine in a purpose called love.

Dark agenda rises as pretension cover up the hollows in our heart.

We see things on different perspectives.

We live on different objectives.

We act on different reasons,

for our heart changes, just like the season.

As my knee touches the floor,

you stood up and raise your heads as high as the sky.

Your egos soar in the clouds of arrogance,

conceited by your kin; they act none to stop you from falling apart.

You struggle hard to please the crowd,

You pretend from up above.

Actions taken for granted.

We strive hard to reach for the unfortunates,

yet we our misunderstood and accused with words of utter blasphemies.

We took no refuge,

For every soul can understand the sorrow of being beaten down from behind.

Apathy and lament floats towards eternity,

As I soar down deep in this vast sadness.

I mourn on this pretext of yours,

dreams stumble to the ground with this sacrilege you’ve planted

deep inside my heart and mind.

Face first; I collide in this ground of deceit.

No hope to push me up,

You try so hard to shatter this massive rock with my heart.

Muddles of lies scattered on the ground,

leaving no space for light to shine.

Our hearts hide somewhere in this darkness,

mourning in the catastrophe of our acts.

Murmurs of ignorance slip from your lips;

I pity those who will indulge in the bitter sweet taste of your noxious kiss.

Sadly, we lament on things we could never have.

We play in a different beat,

a syncopated purpose that sings no words of harmony.

All I feel is angst in your sound,

no rhythm to hush the sobbing heart of the gods.

We dwell in deep lament,

love weeps silently from afar.

All I hear is a melancholic resonance of your guitar,

no solid foundation to help us stand on the ground.

As I am being eaten by these thoughts,

I roam freely in a universe of hallucination,

pretending that everything is alright.

Point, click, kill,

I’m shot at point blank from behind my head.

Blood drips on the ground,

we smile as we pretend that everything is alright.

Happiness hang somewhere in the heavens,

sobbing in the torment of love,

dying in frustration,

for i have let my guard down.

Leaves in the trees starting to fall;

flowers dissolve in the air as they dance carelessly in the wind of past.

As the fire in your eyes dies together with our life,

cold breeze embraces,

and snuggle inside our heart.

Silently we froze in hatred;

we die vain in this autumn in our heart.

Will we find peace amidst this travesty?

Or shall we end up lying dead on the floor as another casualty.

As I paint the town red,

we try to cover-up the sins of our lives,

Silently,

we hide our lies beneath your lovely eyes.

Now we dine, boastfully in front of death,

Hoping we’ll end up not as worms of the earth.

wish you were this...

The Lamentation of Jeremiah

i go here...you go there.

Eyes fall down,

We resigned to hopelessness the fills our empty hearts.

Death cuddles us with his scythe,

And no ray of light can be seen from afar.  

As we dance in this sea of cloud,

Your smile starts to falter together with the light.

My Heart vanishes somewhere in the dark heavens together with my mind.

Darkness engulfs our dream,

Hallucination rises and wages a war against sanity.

     

Tears run dry as we collide with pride.

We try to survive,

Yet no hope can be seen in these eyes.

You continued to fight,

I reside with this fear in my heart.

Courage was never really at hand.

We shadow box with false hopes and dreams.  

No more reason to fight,

Hands down,

We throw in the towel, as my dreams touches the canvass.

Dreams are shattered,

Oats were broken.

Pain was free to roam inside our hearts.

Tell me, how can we ever survive?

Blistered by faint images of your smile,

Hallucinated with my own deceptive lies,

We falter 8,284 steps behind.

We tried so hard,

Still we fall short to those dreams once we had.

We love to cling on those memoirs,

And dwell on our sweet stain.

Though it only causes us grieves and pain,

We restrain to give up, and to move once again.

Slowly, we glide towards lamentation,

We cast words of dismay from your heart of utter pretension.

I see no hope in your eyes,

You feel no love in my smile.

Welcome to this jungle called love.

Though it hurts,

I must say goodbye.

Though this is pure pain,

You must forget my smile.

For this is what fate has dictated,

That it’s not us that must be together.

As I fall down and weeps these teary eyes,

We falter 8,284 steps behind.

time to say goodbye....