Wala Akong Mapagsidlan

Malungkot ako kanina at — hindi ko na maalala kung paano — pero napadako ako sa Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. Mga inimbentong salita lang yata ito para sa mga specific na damdam at danas ng mga emotero. At dahil nga malungkot ako kanina, pumatol naman ako.

Nabasa ko ang salitang exulansis: “the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it.” 

Naisip ko ‘yung minsang nagkuwento ako kay Ip tungkol sa trabaho ko. Sabi ko nahihirapan ako (at iba pang detalye na ayaw kong ibahagi rito). Pero sabi naman niya, baka sadya lang daw akong mapagdamdam. Ang mahalaga raw ay nagagawa ko ang mga task na nakaatas sa akin. Huwag ko na raw alalahanin kung paano bubuhatin ang ibang tao; unnecessary na pasanin lang daw iyon.

May punto si Ip. Mas mahalaga ngang maging objective at ituon na lang ang pansin sa mga kongkretong suliranin. Ang feelings naman ay lumilipas din.

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What makes a “good post”?

I was searching for blogger tags the other day when I stumbled upon this post from pensitivity101. It isn’t a tag, technically, but it does pose questions that I thought were worth pondering over.

So, what do you think makes a good post on your blog?

Hmm, that’s a tough question (char). My blog is a personal blog with no measurable clout, so I don’t really have the numbers to prove which posts are good or not. Maybe this question is better answered by bloggers with a bigger audience or with billable influence, so to speak. Otherwise I just write what I write and if the shitpiece is still up on this blog, then it’s good enough for me.

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Guitars, carpenters, and puppy loves

James Mercer is singing to me. A song about moving away, drinking cheap beer, and listening to rock ‘n roll. It’s New Slang 2.0 but I dig it. It’s an origin song too, I believe. A song about how he got to where he is, to making music, to making a living out of it. Press play, kind stranger.

Now read.

I wonder what my origin song would be, if I could even write songs. Why did I even start playing music to begin with, if I could even play at all?

Ah, Grade 4! My mom wanted us to learn how to play music but we were too poor to buy a keyboard. One day, though, Ma came home from Cebu with a guitar. It’s worth 900 pesos, she told us, though I was too young to gauge whether that’s mahal or not.

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Weak lungs and Rippingyarns

I suffered from asthma as a kid. I was too young to remember the severity of the attacks, but I do remember being fed some concoction that involved buntot ng butiki and dahon ng kalachuchi. I don’t remember the taste at all — maybe it wasn’t that bad? I dunno.  

When I started school I realized that I preferred staying indoors. I didn’t mind missing the outdoor fun. I was always the most useless player in a game anyway. The only “sport” I excelled at was hula-hoops. I swear, baks, nobody could ever beat me at hula-hoops.

I stopped having asthma attacks so I thought I was able to outgrow the disease. At 17, I started smoking.

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Rakista Dreams

Pangarap ko talagang maging rockstar noong hayskul. Pantasya kong maging gitarista sa isang banda, at kami raw ‘yung bandang hindi sobrang sikat, pero hindi rin naman nakabaon sa kaibuturan ng “who u.” Sakto lang. Sapat lang.

Marunong akong maggitara pero hindi ako mahusay. Sabi sa mga nababasa kong magazine dati, hindi rin daw technically mahusay ang Eheads noong nagsisimula pa lang sila. Pinanghawakan ko ‘yun, baks. Kasi ibig sabihin, hindi ko rin kailangang maging henyo bago ako maging legit na musikero.

Pero napapaligiran ako noon ng mga batang henyo. Ang dami kong ka-eskwela na mahusay sa gitara, sa violin, sa cello, pati sa kudyapi at sa kulintang. At sa tantya ko, sila ‘yung mga batang sadyang ipinanganak na mahusay. Gifted, kumbaga.

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I found my old Tumblr

That’s right, folks. I unearthed an old blog.

And it isn’t really a blog, sort of, because it’s nothing but pictures and YouTube links and a few occasional notes about the movies and the songs that I used to enjoy. I wish I still owned the account so I could fix the grammar lapses, haha, but I was young and dumb and,

hmm, when exactly does “youth” stop being a valid excuse? After high school? Upon turning 21? (I’ll confront this thought some other time.)

But if any of you are curious about my 2011 self, go ahead and visit this link. There’s little to browse and there’s no juicy secret to uncover; it’s just a few pages of snippets that may or may not remind you of me, however you perceive me today, seven years later.

And if by chance you trace who I really am, the real name and all the details I purposely try to hide, do you mind just keeping it between us, just you and me, like our little secret?

Love love,

The featured gif is originally from a now-defunct tumblr site.


I got a little too excited the other day so pardon the slew of “‘tang ina” and other senseless kiligisms (now deleted, nay, pasted into another document por my eyes onli). But the point was made: I was surprised, and I was ecstatic. UP is in the UAAP Men’s Basketball finals after 32 years. NAKAKALOKA. And yes, ‘tang ina talaga! 🔴💚