Bummed Blogging

All the tension in the world today
All the little girls fillin’ up the world today
When the good comes to bad
The bad comes to good
But I’m-a live my life like I should
-Limp Bizkit, “Take a Look Around” [Chocolate Starfish...]

For the first time in a while, blogging has been an alternative source of therapy. It feels good just to sit here and open a vein, then watch your words materialize in a cyberpage with all those funky designs and multicolor layouts. Not to mention the tinkering links at your sidebar where they can take you to broader places.

Thanks to the article entitled 7 Reasons the 21st Century is Making You Miserable from CRACKED.com, I’ve had another transpiration on blogging and the Internet as a whole. Instead of copy-pasting that paragraph, why not just click over there, give the author proper credit and have a good read? It might even change your cyber-thoughts.

I personally don’t bother with how many hits, comments or RSS Feeds I receive. After all what good will it do to me? And I’m starting not to see why a number of strangers flooding into your blog should be of such bliss. I can’t just hand in a resumé with “Owner of Award-Winning Blog” under skills and achievements. I don’t even know if having blocked 10,000 spam comments is something to be proud of.

I just don’t understand why so many bloggers turn a blind eye to that. They worry so much about raking in the most traffic when most of them don’t even make money out of it. This is the so-called “Outrage Machine,” alright. Instead of explaining it here, just click on the referred article above.

Snap Collapse

Adventure is my middle name.
-Hiro, Lunar 2: Eternal Blue

Although I’d rather be lazing off on a Saturday, I took the only moment to finally get on with my photo essay. It’s my ticket to passing Photojournalism overall. I wouldn’t want to waste three units worth of tuition, almost P3,000 worth of photolab fee, a Canon AE-1 and dozens of rolls of film just to flunk the legendary Photojournalism and Event Coverage subject. It’s the first “big” major I’ve “advanced” to.

Then again I still haven’t taken Biological Science, Basic IT and World Literature yet. Should have been done with those last semester had only I not underloaded. Oh well, at least I’m likely to graduate on time compared to those bums and slackers.

So I left for Intramuros despite the inconsiderate rain. I had a pretty uncomfortable time in the bus. Just why does the stupid conductor have to squeeze passengers through like a can of sardines? Money matters, of course. Good thing one male passenger was chivalrous enough to offer me his seat. Turns out he just wanted to watch the TV blocked by the standing passengers. No complaints there!

Time to map out the photo flatplan! I circumnavigated the walls of Intramuros alone and on foot. Subjects taken in order are:

1. Tower of Lyceum
2. Golf course with Manila City Hall amidst the background
3. Lamp post head from atop the walls
4. Mapua Institute of Technology front gate
5. One of the cannon replicas scattered across the walls
6. Pamantasan ng Lungsod ng Maynila (University of the City of Manila)
7. La Fondacion
8. Dome ruin near La Fondacion
9. Bronze statue of 19th century foot soldier
10. Manila Cathedral facade

I just pray I had the correct guesstimations of aperture and shutter speed. That’s the one thing I hate about film. Once you click, you can’t undo the trick. Hey, that rhymes! For the last time we’re required to use black and white film.

My last roll contained plates depicting squatters. My photo essay will be about Intramuros being a tourist paradise and at the same time a hellhole of hounds. Intramuros is only grand on the outside. But once you explore the interiors, expect to be greeted by eye sores of buildings and a stampede of smelly street kids begging you for money. Am I sounding harsh?

Kuya Wine commented that Intramuros seemed to be my favorite place. Naturally. I go there everyday to attend school plus I like the sceneries. Miraculously I haven’t been victimized by a flying golf ball yet. I know the periphery like the back of my hand. Also it’s where Carlo and I used to “get busy” in our early days thanks to the many nooks and crannies.

EDIT 10/10/2007: It may not be part of the photo essay but I brought my Kodak EasyShare C530 with me just in case! I had nothing better to do during my rest and thought I’d capture this!

After a diligent day devoted to final exams, I decided I deserve a treat at McDonald’s. I had my usual order of No. 6: Cheeseburger meal with orange juice and regular fries. Goodness knows I’m not a sodaholic. And a little food trivia: One order of regular fries contains more cholesterol than a Big Mac. Of course I’m concerned about my health too.

And oh yes. I just bought an English-Chinese dictionary (‘coz I already have a Chinese-English) and a new novel: Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman.

Since I’ve read all seven Harry Potter books and completed all of Paulo Coelho’s novels, time to start on a new reading obsession. I’ve read Neil Gaiman specializes in adult fantasy. Once I’m done with that, I think I’ll save up for American Gods next. Stardust has good reviews too though as well as Coraline. Anansi Boys didn’t live up to expectations though.

Postscript: Once again I was mistaken a Korean. The poor bloke of a Calesa driver even bothered to follow me while I was walking my way to Manila Cathedral, camera hanging around my neck.

“Miss, calesa?”
I shook my head, obviously saying “No.”
“Miss, calesa?”
Again, I shook my head, further indicating I was already irritated.
“Yu want rayd hors, miss?”
I got fed up and doubled my walking speed.

The fact that he had to speak to me in twisted English with a thick accent both amused and annoyed me. He must be so desperate to follow me with his dingy carriage and assuming me to be a clueless Korean tourist.

Prick-a-Prat

Yeah, I suffocate quick
Does that make me a bitch?
I don’t really care, no
-Sweetbox, “Don’t Push Me”

Just why are some people such gits? I’m referring to those who come running to you only when they need or want something from you. If only I can find a direct English translation for the Tagalog word “Namimihasa.” They’re pushing me to punching someone on the face. Come to think of it, it’s been six years since my last victim. About time I look for a new target practice.

Just this afternoon before entering school to attend Statistics, a classmate stopped me and asked for my notes in Economics. I told him I can’t since I write all my notes in one notebook which I’ll use later in my class. The prick didn’t seem to understand me and persisted. I held my temper and further explained that I was fifteen minutes late and that I needed my notebook. Before he said another word, I turned around and walked away.

Mga ‘di talaga marunong umintindi. Of course I wouldn’t let his idiocy ruin my day and attended classes like usual. Dismissal came and as I walked towards the bus stops, I unluckily came across the git again. Once again he begged for my notes in Economics since we’ll be having a quiz tomorrow. Again I explained like a corrupted mp3 file (since broken record is a term your granny will use) that I needed my notebook. He compromised that he’ll return it to me tomorrow before Economics. At long last I finally yelled, “I need my notebook too! You’re not the only one who needs to study for Economics tomorrow!”

What a schmendrick. Didn’t it even cross his mind that the person he’ll be borrowing from will also need her notes? Didn’t he even realize that I’m more concerned about my grades than his? Just why do some pricks have that self-centered mentality? They seem to think they can just easily borrow stuff from you like that, in my case my notebook which contains my salvation to passing grades.

I’ve said it once, I’ve said it many times, and I’ll say it again. A friend in need is a friend indeed. And how I loathe fair-weather friends. I’m the type who keeps problems to one’s self. It’s not my idea to burden other people, even those whom I know are willing to help me, with my own problems. Except of course on special occasions.

Then again, dealing with people you can’t stand is a part of society after all.

Fan Fiction Foiled

Most writers are like that. They have many excuses when not writing but when they are, it’s a dangerous mistake to disturb them.
-Kuya Wine

I still feel unmotivated to continue The White Mage and the Slasher, my Beauty and the Beast-based Final Fantasy X fan fiction. I began it late 2003 and I still haven’t finished. That’s either lazy or uninspired. Before that, there’s still the photo essay.

I’ve been getting less readers and reviews lately though I can say I’m unaffected by this. Partly because of my abysmally slow updates and mostly because FanFiction.Net is way too contaminated with amateur (and even uneducated) writers. I mean the type who obviously haven’t attended elementary English whose works tinker with incorrect spelling and grammar, awkward sentences, inaccuracies from the original title and God forbid; shallow poetry and plotless stories. The most tolerable are those who can’t even tell “your” from “you’re,” “its” and “it’s,” “there” and “their,” “were” and “we’re.” The problem with FF.net is that anyone can be a “writer” with just a snap and the stories submitted don’t even undergo professional screening.

Sonic Delinquent

11:45 am. Right now I should be at school listening to Dr. Sicam’s lecture on feature writing. I chose not to attend classes for now, I’ll just do so at my next class which is Statistics. That’s the syndrome that plagues most students (including myself). The closer you tread to the Final Exams, the more you lose your will for school. At least I’m not likely to fail or get an FDA at anything

I spent this lazy morning toying away with the GameBoy Advance emulator. I was sickly nostalgic when I got to play Sonic Advance 3. It felt so reminiscent to the old-school Sonic games for the Sega Genesis. Now that I think about, I don’t know where my Sega Genesis or Super Famicom (not SNES) is.

I feel sorry for the blue little hedgehog now that SEGA (Service & Games) is now software-exclusive. I can’t feel the same for the Dreamcast though. I never had one and the PlayStation franchise is still tenfolds better.

One feature I like about SA3 is the “Tag Action.” Each character has unique skills of their own depending on who their AI-controlled partner is. For examples, Sonic does a slide tackle when paired with Knuckles and anyone paired with Amy Rose can whack a hammer. I still have no idea what Cream the Rabbit is capable of.

I feel overwhelmed by the many 16-bit legends available for my wanting. I’ve just beaten Donkey Kong Country 2: Diddy’s Kong Quest twice with 34 DK coins, vanished Pete in Magical Quest Starring Mickey Mouse and decapitated Sigma in Mega Man X.

Currently listening to the OST of Threads of Fate by the coveted Squaresoft, another game I sorely miss.

One Class Too Many

I may or may not commit an act of delinquency today. This is not the first time I’ve done this in my entire college life and it won’t definitely be the last. Once again I don’t feel like attending classes. Typical of any burnt out college student.

Statistics is the only class for today at 2:30 pm-4:00 pm. Life must be so bad to give me that horrible subject. That’s not necessarily whining though.

That’s the problem if you have only one class for a day. The temptation to skip is so magnetic. I must be partly out of my mind to go on a roundtrip from Las Piñas to Intramuros for three hours and spend around a hundred bucks just to attend one class which in turn is my least favorite subject of the semester. I just think it’s not worth the investment.

‘Sides, if I do skip today’s class, I’ll be making only a total of four absences. I’ll still have three more spare absences which will definitely suffice for the last three weeks of the semester. In Lyceum, getting an FDA will require you to skip class for eight times. Absences aren’t what I consider a violation but a commodity.

6:30pm – I could have ridden through Taft Avenue from Lawton to Buendia in a mere ten minutes but thanks to the nefarious traffic, I got stuck in Taft for an entire hour. The sectors with the heaviest traffic were Arroceros and of course De La Salle. If only that school has a parking space equivalent to how big they claim their bank accounts are.

Oh God now I wish I just stayed home and wasted that one hour with my blog instead. Even if we had lesson updates in Statistics, I still can’t help but mull over the lost three hours of traveling and the P50 bus fare.

Devoid

Only the difference between truth and lies, courage and cowardice.
-Minerva McGonagall, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

This empty feeling… It is both a good and bad thing. You feel no mirth within yet there’s enough room to fill you with various emotions.

Empty. That’s what I’m feeling now, and I don’t mean in an emo-ish sense. I just feel no emotion at all. Nothing. Neither happiness or gloom, hope nor despair. I can’t hold a knife, bear myself with scars reminding me of pain I myself have inflicted. I just can’t bring myself to smile yet the look on my face isn’t indicating a frown. I am not feeling suicidal or grief-stricken yet I can’t feel creativity and inspiration surging through my veins.

How can I even say I feel empty when I’m not feeling anything at all? No wonder they invented the word “apathy.” I have my own color pallet of emotions. White is what paints my heart now. According to a Psychology student from school, white is not necessarily a color. It is in fact an absence of color. This is an absence of emotion.

As I write, this emptiness begins to diminish. I feel a sense of purpose now generating from hands as it manifests in my fingertips. Then my will to write returns, materializing itself in the form of these words. I learn that the only way to fill this void is to do something, anything. Not by sheer force or cumbersome shame, yet by pure will.