Altered States of Wonderland

Follow the white rabbit into the rabbit hole. Take the red pill and wake up to another boring useless life slapping right on your face. Take the blue pill and you'll travel deep into the rabbit hole where altered states of suspended reality reign.

The whole gang of designers and brands will send you soaring the highest skies and floating the vast ocean of bliss.

A year and a half ago, I have been into this world. A world down a spiral plunge. A world where gratitude overpowers the need to fix up. Those days were the happiest days in my altered states.

Looking at my life then, the choice of living the life in Wonderland wasn't at all a regretful experience. Sure thing it turned me into my worst but for me to appreciate the more important things in life, I should have to experience the worst first.

E brought me to paradie. It brought me to a place where there were no wrongs and no rights, where eveybody loved everybody and where flight seemed so close to possibility. However, everything that goes up, always finds its way down and all birds, no matter how high they soar, will still get tired and have to land to ground to rest and recharge.

And just like Alice, after following the white rabbit to the rabbit hole, after having a mad-tea party, meeting the mad-hatter and the Queen of Hearts, i find myself waking up from that nightmare--out of the rabbit hole, back to ground zero.

Breaktime

After centuries of not visiting or updating my blog, eto na ulit ako.

Naisipan ko lang mag-post ngayon dahil nauubos na ang laman ng utak ko sa papers na due in a few hours from now. nauubusan na ako ng English plus nauubusan narin ako ng mga masasabi sa review na kailangan kong gawin.

Eto nanaman ako, alas dos palang ng umaga nasa barracks na ako, nagttype ng apper. hirap ng walang PC na sarili. but my suffering will be over soon kasi next sem bibilhan na ako ni mommy ng laptop. sa wakas no more early morning visits to barracks. i can make my requirements at the comfort of my wonderful dormitory. plus, papa-wifi kami! sosyal kami! hahahah! which will lessen my burden a lot.

nabasa ko ang blog ni Junel about goodbyes and stuff. napaiyak ako. oo napaiyak ako. naalala ko tuloy mga masasayang moments with my orgamtes and friends na ngayon ay kumakayod na. na-realize ko rin kung gaano ako kawalang kwentang klaibigan. hahahah! sigh!

sumasakit na ulo ko at ampangit pa ng katabi ko kaya hanggang dito nalang muna ata ko'y babalik sa acad mode ulit. :)

nice seing my blog again! hay! mah

night night!

LOVERS here. LOVERS there. Fucking Lovers EVERYWHERE.

Just a few hours ago, after gulping 2 bottles of San Mig Light and puffing a pack of Menthol cigarettes, i turned to my best friend Rose and saw her cavorting with her boyfriend. It was fun watching the two of them smooch around coz they looked so good together. Undoubtedly, i was happy for them. So, i lighted myself another fag and ordered a bottle of San Mig Light while trying my best to grab the attention of the guy seated two tables away from me. Talk about multi-tasking. But my efforts failed so i went on with the usual puffing-sipping routine. And that was when it dawned on me--I AM ALL ALONE AGAIN.

It seems like everytime I am with my friends, i am always the one who either:

A.) tags along on the ride

B.) has no partner

C.) witnesses a lovers' fight in epic proportions

D.) left-out

Frankly, i am fed up with alwasy being the mediator cum shock absorber of all these fights.

We go out for a hopefully good night of dance, booze and smoke, when suddenly the lovers that i am with start to smash bottles on each other's head or argue about issues as simple as whether the guy has to smoke or not. GEEZ.

i have witnessed quarrels as shallow as being teased as a spice girl fan to wars that could put Hitler to shame. And most of the time...MOST OF THE TIME, my flesh and soul is in front of them, alone and with no one to say, "Uy awatin mo!"

is it fate telling me that i am doomed to be the ever-loyal shock absorber of such battles?

After my 4th bottle of San Mig Light and my 5th stick of Menthol cigarettes, i decided to go home. The night was still young but i couldn't stand seeing lovers here, lovers there, lovers fucking everywhere.

NOTE: Some scnenes, languages and names have been edited to protect the people concerned and to make this entry a little bit more colorful. :-)

You'll Never Know When It Hits You Hard

Trying to cope up with my problems these past few fucking days, has been worse than hell itself. Filing for an LOA, consulting with a psychologist, trying to patch friendships that were shattered, feeling all depressed and lonely and fearing my mom for the nth time around were just some of the things i had to swallow. And when things seem completely out of place, you only have yourself and your closest friends to back you up.

Allow one of my best friends to spill the beans.


The Truth About Me and Kiko
by Jasmine Jill Varca


I raised one perfectly arched eyebrow when the next Comartsoc recruit presented himself to us, one day back in June 2002. He was short and stodgy, wearing a long black tie-dyed cloth as a turban and a brass fish-shaped earring on one ear. Another gay fashionista wannabe. He spoke in the soft melodious tone of effeminate gays, with an ethnic accent I couldn’t quite pinpoint.
Who is this Kiko Miranda?
It was a few short months later that I would recognize a soul mate hidden beneath his flamboyant, loud but extremely loveable persona. The seemingly know-it-all vaklita became one of my closest, most important, and I daresay, influential friends.
So it came quite a shock when Kiko casually dropped the bomb on me that he was filing for LOA, and is moving back to Zamboanga indefinitely. He did it with such a projected air of nonchalance I realized it was killing him to do this. He, who had experienced the best and worst of LB, and considered it his freedom place, was like admitting defeat by slinking back to his hometown to, in his own words “find myself.” My initial reaction said it all. “Putangina mo, how could you?” Then I burst into tears, right there at IC’s Bar while we were waiting for the waiter to serve us our beer.
He and I are not the kind of friends who text each other quotes or any mundane messages. We may not see each other for a while, and that’s fine, but when we do reunite, it’s like we’re never apart. Tuloy ang chika, kumbaga. We might not have been through the kind of trials other tight friends have, but we have gone through experiences and awakenings that have tested our bond. We’re beyond shame when it comes to secrets and fantasies. He was my life line during the time that I felt stripped of everything, especially my ego, my womanity. He listened to me cry and cry, then he told me to stop blubbering, shut up and be the tough bitch he knows I am.
Suffice it to say, part of me have, and will always be dependent on Kiko. I used him, much the same way scores of people used Kiko’s brains, talents, friendship and money; I just got away with it most of the time is because he considers me is best friend. And maybe, in some ways, I exploited this privilege.
He came to my rescue when I needed a cheering instructor partner. We drunk ourselves to death and smoked weed till we thought we’d died and gone to ganja heaven. Sex became a favorite topic and if we had taken down copious notes of our experiences and fantasies combined, the compilation would put Kama Sutra to shame. Other less fortunate people became the target of our sharp tongues and scrutinizing eyes. We always justified our okray binges by saying other people put us down as well so why not indulge. He shared my sadness when there came a time that I became so disillusioned with the Comartsoc, and we spent a lot of conversations analyzing this and that.
He was always generous on his allowance day, so when he would resort to eating rice and soy sauce, I tried to feed him as best that I can. His apartment was a welcome spot for my obsessive-compulsive tendencies, and we’d have arguments when I just cleaned it and he would mess up the bed. He’d hand me the keys when I need his room. He’d give me a wink and an encouraging pat and would shove me towards the hot guy I’ve been eyeing all night. He’d take me dancing although my body looks stiff compared to his. Part of the reason why I won in “In Heat” was because he was with me backstage the whole time, hiding my stretch marks with concealer and making disparaging whispers about the competition. I’ve always said Kiko released my inner wild child. It never failed to amaze me where he got his sunny disposition, his artistic drive, his barrels and barrels of energy and optimism.
You may lambaste him for his outrageous fashion sense or his promiscuisity (a term he and I come up with; strangely, neither of us bothered to check the dictionary for the correct term.) you may think he’s KSP by always being seen hobnobbing with all sorts of people, or spearheading yet another production or dance number. But admit it: you have used him, and Kiko, being the trusting, artistic, attention-hungry, crowd-savvy person that he is, was easy prey.
When you need to liven up the crowd at the bar, who do you ask to dance up a storm or do tequila shots with the next unsuspecting male? When you need the obligatory loudmouthed, sex-crazed homosexual to deliver your scripts punch lines, who do you look for? When you need an arrogant face to drum up sponsorships, entertain drunks with his humor or someone to dress up in pamhinta-slash-bading roles, or come up with a hot topic for a forum discussion, who do you call? To say that Kiko doesn’t have artistic inclination is like saying Marco Alfino Miranda is strictly heterosexually male.
Before you say I’m ready to drive the final nail in Kiko’s coffin with my winded eulogy, let me tell you this guy is no perfect saint. He’s a total slob when it comes to his things. He has the usual batugan tendencies. And to paraphrase his mom, I do not doubt he will be successful someday, the question is, will he be rich as well? Kiko is a one day millionaire type of guy, and also has the tendency to be extra generous to his, um, male friends. Kiko has a penchant for recycling worn clothes, and has a strange aversion to the concept of a laundromat. Mountains of dirty clothes at his apartment, some dating back to the time of the Tabon man, attest to his ickiness. Don’t ask me how many times I’ve tried to convert him into the neat freak that I am.
It may sound cheesy, but Kiko is one of the reasons I like going home to LB. He’s as reliable as a rock when it comes to gimmicks, men, and endless chismisans. He is the first one Abu and I look for when we go out. My boyfriend and Kiko also have their own close friendship, and I am secure in the knowledge that Kiko will never graze in my pasture. He likes them young, and twinky, and artistic…just some of his weird idiosyncrasies. And oh, he likes their feet really fair, pinkish and oh-so clean. He can come just by thinking of desirable male feet.
It’s hard for me to swallow the idea of Kiko being depressed, and perhaps beaten. Those words just never seem to apply to him. I guess I’ve always thought of him as my Rock of Gibraltar-cum-Jollibee mascot, but I guess even rocks crumble and Jollibee takes off his happy costume once in a while. Our motto was, make many mistakes, but don’t make the same mistakes. Time and again, I’m sure Kiko has tried to live up to this adage, and for sure had his hits and misses, just like I had.
But for now, it’s back to the seas for this Badjao, diving for pearls he may have missed during his four-year stay in LB. Vaklita, you’ll always be my friendship, my promiscuisity-the-best buddy, the Tiyo Kardo to my Dona Jovita, my partner-in-crime…and you’ll never lose this jaz-y pearl in your life.

And that's how everything hit me so hard on the face!

>TO BE CONTINUED...

Blast from the Past

Walk down memory lane with my past blog entries and past love affairs

Date written: June 2005
Inspiration: MEOW MEOW (one of the few mushiest petnames i used to call my EX. And guess what he called me...YUP! BOW WOW! Talk about sappy cheezy mushy!)
Entry Title: Missing You SO Much

Gusto kitang makasama ngayong gabi.
Gusto kita makitang pumikit at huminga.
Gusto kong maamoy kung anong brand ng shampoo ang ginamit mo kanina. Kung bagong ligo ka ba o kung kaninang alas-seis ng umaga ka pa huling naligo.
Tumutubo na ba balbas mo? Tara, ahitin natin!
Kung naandito ka lamang sa tabi ko ngayon, mamasahiin kita. Lalagyan kita ng Nivea Moisturizing Body Oil at sisimulang diinan ang aking mga daliri sa pagod mong likod.
Aamuyin ko ang iyong leeg, kili-kili, dibdib at tiyan. Didilaan ko ang lahat ng parte ng katawan mo. Hahalikan ko ang mga labi mo hanggang sa maglapat at magbuhol ang ating dila.
Sabi nila, ang bunganga ang pinakamaruming parte ng katawan pero para sa akin ito ang pinakamalinis, pinakamabango at pinakamamahal kong parte ng itong katawan.
Sa bungangang ito dumadaloy ang masasamyo mong salita para sa akin.
Sa bungangang ito naririnig ko ang kampana ng simbahan at kanta ng mga anghel sa langit.
Sa bungangang ito naaamoy ko ang wagas mong pagmamahal sa akin.
Kung ito may marumi, lilinisin ko ito.
Kung andito ka lamang sa tabi ko.




Date Written: December 2005
Inspiration: Leovino de Ocampo aka GABRIEL (my most recent heartache)
Entry Title: Ang Payaso at ang Anghel

Oo. Aaminin ko. Minsan din akong nanghumaling sa Mulawin. Mga taong nagmistulang mga ibon, may pakpak, lumilipad. Nanghumaling ako sa Mulawin hindi dahil andun ang aking idol na si Angel Locsin o ang aking Crush na si Richard Gutierrez. Nanghumaling ako sa Mulawin dahil naaalala kita. Di ko nga alam eh. Hindi mo naman kamukha si Richard at lalong di mo kamukha si Angel pero bakit ikaw lagi ang sumasagi sa isipan ko kapag nanonood ako ng Mulawin.
Gabi-gabi, sa aking pagtulog, lagi kong napapaniginipang lumilipad ako. Kagabi, napanaginipan kong lumilipad ako sa karagatan ng impyerno. Gadagat ang nagkalat na mga sunog na bangkay na gumagalaw. Maingay. Mabaho. Magulo. Sa tuktok ng bulkan, naandon and Demonyo. Naka-upo sa kanyang trono. Pinapalibutan ng apoy at naaagnas na mga katawan. Nilapitan ko ang Demonyo. Pero, imbis na saksakin ito ng espadang galing langit o buhusan ito ng Holy Water, hinalikan ko siya. Ang labi ng langit at labi ng impyerno--naglapat. Kakaibang init ang naramdaman ko sa aking panaginip. Hindi ko maintindihan.
Nagising akong basa ang kama sa naghalong pawis, ihi, at ...tamod. Sa paggising ko, ikaw ang unang naisip ko.
Xmas party ng org namin. Exchange gifts. Dahil corny at walang tinge of creativeness ang nakabunot sa akin, isang napaka-cliche na angel figurine ang binigay sa akin. Ikaw nanaman ang naalala ko.
Pag-uwi ko ng Zamboanga, sa tuktok ng aming Xmas tree, ikaw ang naalala ko.
BAkit ganun?
*****
Nung gabing nagkita tayo, isang salita lamang ang sumagi sa isip ko--anghel. Hindi ito dahil kapangalan mo ang isang anghel. Well, i can only make a wild guess. Siguro dahil ang dami mong pinamahaging aral sa akin sa ilang oras na tayo'y nagkasama. Wala pa akong nakadaupang-palad na taong nakakaintindi sa akin at gusto akong intindihin. LAgi akong iniiwan, pinagtatawanan, kinakantyawan.
SAbi nga ng KAibigan ko, "Hindi porket sikat ka, maganda ka na. Hindi porket may fans ka, mas angat ka na sa iba. Hindi porket napapatawa mo ng malakas ang mga tao, mamahalin ka na. Prinsesa ang hanap ng bawat prinsipe. Reyna ang hinahanap ng bawat hari. Ang payaso pinagtatawanan lang. Ang payaso hindi hinahanap para mahalin. ang payaso hinahanap para pagtawanan."
OO. Payaso ako. Sana wag mo akong hanapin kung gusto mo lang tumawa. Sana wag mo akong hanapin dahil gusto mong may pinagtatawanan. Sana hahanapin mo ako dahil mahal mo ako. SAna hahanapin mo ako dahil gusto mong may makakwentuhan ng seryoso, gusto mong intindihin ang aking mga sakit at galak, gusto mong alagaan ang payasong pinagtatawanan ng mga tao.
Maging anghel ka. Liparin mo ang langit. Pasukin mo ang lagusan ng impyerno. Hanapin mo ako sa Lawa ng Apoy. Hagkan mo ako at ilipad muli sa langit yakap-yakap ang payasong nagmamahal sa piling mo.
para sa isang taong kapangalan ang isang anghel

Date Written: December 29, 2005
Inspiration: Gabriel (same guy on previous entry). The night I found out that i was his mistress.
Entry Title: Pagmuni-muni

Ngayong gabi, kasabay ng pagpatak ng ulan sa langit, kasabay ng payak na tunog ng electric fan sa aking tabi, iniisip kita.

Habang humihithit sa yosi, nakatulala sa mga kalat sa aking computer table, binabagabag ang isip ko ng mga alaala mo. Hindi naman ganoong katagal nung tayo'y nagkakilala. Mag-iisang buwan pa lamang ngunit parang kay tagal na ng panahong lumipas. Siguro ganun na nga talaga. Kapag natutuwa ka sa tao, kapag lubos na kinagagalak ng iyong kalooban ang isang tao, hindi mo mapapansin ang pagusad ng panahon. Hindi na importante ang tagal ng panahon. Ginugunita natin ang mga sandaling magkasama tayo. Mga sandaling aksidenteng mahahaplos mo ang aking kamay sa jeep. Ang mga sandaling inaamoy natin ang halimuyak ng ating katawan, ang bango ng ating hininga at ang init ng ating mga halik. Hindi na nating binibilang kung gaano katagal ang mga sandaling iyon. Sapat na ang malasap natin ang lahat ng iyon sa mga sandaling iyon.

Anong kanta ang nais mong awitin ngayon?

Anong nararamdaman mo ngayon?

Maaari bang magmahal ang isang taong hindi pa nalilimutan ang unang pag-ibig nito?

Bakit mo nasabi yan?

Hindi ako sumasang-ayon.

Ilan lamang yan sa mga madalas mong itanong sa akin kapag tayo'y magkasama. Ilan lamang iyan sa mga tanong hindi ko alam kung nabigyan ko ng tamang sagot. Ako, salita lang ng salita. Sa sobrang dami ng mga salitang umaapaw sa aking bunganga, ako'y nalulunod. Ikaw nga ang magsabi. May tama ba sa mga sagot ko?

Pabilis ng pabilis ang paghithit ko sa yosi. Mauubos ko na ata ang isang kahang Marlboro Menthol na kabibili ko lang kaninang hapon. Sa bawat hithit ng yosi, nilalasap ko ang pait nito, ninanamnam ko ang pagpasok ng usok sa aking baga, ang pagbilis ng pagtibok ng puso ko kapag binubuga ko na ang usok. Hithit ako ng hithit bumilis lang ang pagtibok ng puso ko at lumalim ang paghinga ko. Sa bawat paghithit at pagbuga ko, ikaw ang nasa isip ko. Ikaw. nagpapabilis ng pagtibok ng puso ko. nagpapalalim ng paghinga ko. Pero tulag ng yosi, nakamamatay ka kaya? Papatayin mo kaya ako? Naniniwala akong hindi. Gusto kong maniwalang hindi. Papaniwalaan ko ang bawat salita mo. Papaniwalaan kita kahit nakamamatay man ito.

Matutulog na ako. Sumasakit na baga ko.

NOTE: To the following people concerned, no harm done. :)

WELCOME FRIENDS!

At long last, Mr. Francis College Miranda has made a new blogsite to serve as his outlet whenever he feels disturbed and deranged. To my friends, you are very much free to comment, lambast, mock, and humiliate my blogs. :)