Random Radiohead stuff.

Where's In Rainbows?

I love you, Stanley Donwood!

Releeease meee... releeease meee...

Lotus Flower anniversary!

Week 1

Valentine's special

Week 2

Little by Little - Radiohead

Help!

I need some cash to make a huge dream come true, so if you have any spare coins or bills, please donate to my Radiohead Trust Fund. Will be put to good use, of course! And will love you back immensely! Help me fill up this tumbler by July! Yay.


Moon Fever - Air

Kuwentong basahan.

Bale may kuwento ako tungkol sa isa sa mga unang bagay na ginawa ko nang magsimula ang taon.

Isang hapon nag-aayos ako ng mga damit sa aparador nang may mapansin akong T-shirt na may kakatwang alaala. Noong nakaraang taon ito nangyari. Mga panahong nakikitulog ako sa apartment niya dahil gusto ko siya makasama. Baon ko yung damit na yun. Nasa kanila ako hanggang Linggo kaya nagbaon ako ng dalawa o tatlong extra T-shirt. Nung nagpaalam ako para umuwi, hindi sinasadyang naiwan ko yung damit na yun sa closet niya. Nakalimutan ko, tas hindi rin niya napansin.

Tas isang gabi nagtext siya sa akin tungkol sa naturang damit. Sabi niya, "Chard, damit mo ata tong suot ko. Haha." At saka ko naalala. Siyempre sabi ko ayos lang, bilang halos magkakatawan lang naman kami at wala namang kaso yung ganung bagay. Suot niya yung damit kong yun nang pumunta siya ng Cubao X. Hindi ko na maalala kung anong event, pero dumiretso daw siya dun dahil nalulungkot siya. Hindi ko siya masamahan dahil may tinatapos akong trabaho.

So ayun na. Nung nagkita kami kinalaunan, isinauli niya yung T-shirt. Bagong laba. Mabango. Inamoy-amoy ko pa.

Ilang linggo o buwan ang nakalipas nagkakalabuan na kami. Dahil may angkin akong talento sa pananaliksik, napag-alaman ko ang isang mahalagang detalye. Nung gabing yun sa Cubao na suot niya yung T-shirt ko, kasama niya yung nobyo niya ngayon. Paano ko nalaman? May picture sila. Siya, suot ang damit ko, nakangiti sa tabi nung lalaki. Ngiting-ngiti. Ang saya saya ni kuya.

Nakakatawa lang. Seryosong tawa. Nakita ko yun nung panahong galit ako at nakadagdag siya sa bigat ng mga nangyari. Pag galit ako natatawa ako. Pag malungkot ako natatawa rin ako. May sayad lang. Pero ayun, natawa ako na naiyak. Siyempre rational naman akong tao. Walang malisya yun nung nangyari siya. Pero pag naiisip ko, hmm..hindi rin. Minsan hindi ako naniniwala sa pagbibigay ng benefit of the doubt.

Alam niyo ano nangyari nung hapong yun habang nag-aayos ako ng mga damit sa aparador?

Bale kinuha ko yung damit at ginawang basahan. Nandun siya sa pinto ng kuwarto ko ngayon. Sanay na ako sa existence niya. Tinatapakan ko tuwing pumapasok at lumalabas. Ang lakas niya makagaan ng loob. Araw-araw ko siyang tinatapakan. Araw-araw ko ring naalala na wala siyang halaga.

At ikinasisiya ko ang bagay na ito. :)



Huwag Mo Nang Itanong - Eraserheads

Beau du jour.

JAMIE BELL I LOVE YOU FOR EVER AND EVER AND EVER. BRB DYING

YES, YOU!

YES! YES!

Morning Bell - Radiohead

Chico!

Breathe - Wheat

Elemental.

I stand by my list two years ago and say that this is still the finest album from the last decade. Kid A is by all means groundbreaking, but it can go ahead and suck a lemon.


All I Need - Radiohead

Random.

♥♥♥ BEST PHOTO IN THE WORLD ♥♥♥

Our Plans - Cloud Nothings

Dear Modern Family.

Congratulations! Thanks for the wonderful distraction!


No Future/No Past - Cloud Nothings

Getting old?

I started watching How I Met Your Mother sometime in 2008 or 2009 when I was still working at Alliance. I'm pretty sure it's because of Neil Patrick Harris, whom I've loved since Doogie Howser days. I enjoyed the first and second seasons, most of which I watched on my iPod before I went to sleep. The show was light, not the type of comedy that would make you think about profound things and the like. Plus, it has a cool soundtrack. The song in the opening credits is pretty nice. And once, they used "This Modern Love" to close an episode.

It's sometime after the fourth season when I got a little disinterested in it. Perhaps because I changed work, so it took me a while to catch up on it or I was listening to lots of albums and watching tons of movies that I stopped being a TV series fanatic. You know, addiction wanes when something is big enough to eclipse it. Anyway, late last year I started on the fifth season and finished watching the finale a while ago. It's kinda underwhelming but I expected that. I still love the gang, though at times they become very boring and repetitive and unfunny, mostly because of the writing. It's just not as tight as the first and second season anymore. I'm thinking of putting off watching the sixth season because I got loads of series to feast on. Yay, thanks to Sani. But for now: SLEEP.

*written sometime last week, forgot to post due to laziness (what's new)


Staircase - Radiohead

Like a Bose.

Been wearing this pair of jeans for three weeks now. I checked my cabinet and apparently I have plenty of new ones to wear. SO WHY AM I SO LAZY TO TOSS THIS ONE INTO THE LAUNDRY BASKET???



Love What Happened Here - James Blake

In the Frozen Reaches.

The Idea
by Mark Strand

for Nolan Miller

For us, too, there was a wish to possess
Something beyond the world we knew, beyond ourselves,
Beyond our power to imagine, something nevertheless
In which we might see ourselves; and this desire
Came always in passing, in waning light, and in such cold
That ice on the valley’s lakes cracked and rolled,
And blowing snow covered what earth we saw,
And scenes from the past, when they surfaced again,
Looked not as they had, but ghostly and white
Among false curves and hidden erasures;
And never once did we feel we were close
Until the night wind said, “Why do this,
Especially now? Go back to the place you belong;”
And there appeared , with its windows glowing, small,
In the distance, in the frozen reaches, a cabin;
And we stood before it, amazed at its being there,
And would have gone forward and opened the door,
And stepped into the glow and warmed ourselves there,
But that it was ours by not being ours,
And should remain empty. That was the idea.



Alay sa mga Nagkamalay Noong Dekada 90 - Dicta License

Shaking.

Goddamn Europeans!
Take me back to beautiful England
And the grey, damp filthiness of ages,
And battered books and
Fog rolling down behind the mountains,
On the graveyards, and dead sea-captains.

Let me walk through the stinking alleys
To the music of drunken beatings,
Past the Thames River, glistening like gold
Hastily sold for nothing.

Let me watch night fall on the river,
The moon rise up and turn to silver,
The sky move,
The ocean shimmer,
The hedge shake,
The last living rose, quiver.


The Last Living Rose - PJ Harvey

Walang katumbas na pagod.

Tangina minsan kahit anong pilit kong pasiglahin ang sarili, kahit anong pilit kong tatagan ang loob sa mga bagay na sumusubok sa pasensya, kahit anong pilit kong paniwalain ang sarili na may magandang dahilan ang lahat, hindi ko mawari kung bakit may mga pangyayari pa rin na magaganap para panghinaan ako ng loob, para pagdudahan ang positibong mukha ng mga bagay.

Sabihin mo nga sa akin, ano pa ba, ano pa ba ang kailangan kong gawin? Tangina naman e. Hindi ba puwedeng hayaan muna akong makabawi bago bigyan ulit ng mga mabibigat na pagsubok? Nauunawaan ko namang hindi na ako makakabalik pa sa dati, at natanggap ko nang may lamat na ang pagtingin ko sa mundo, pero maaari bang pakonsuwelo na lang na pagalingin ang may sakit at bawasan ang hirap sa araw-araw na pagpasok sa trabaho?

Hindi lang katawan at isip ko ang pagod. Pati kaluluwa na nagtatangkang gumaling mag-isa.

England - PJ Harvey

D.D.

Matt is kinda high, isn't he? And Sufjan's too pretty pretty.


It's All Been Done - Barenaked Ladies

Hikab.

Ang wagas ng antok ko ngayon. Sobra. Wagas na wagas kayang ipambili ng langit.



Let's Get Tired - SSLYBY

This mess I'm in.

Work is stressing me out lately and it's no longer healthy. I understand that day jobs are really exhausting and sometimes they take the life out of you but I guess I've reached the limit. Nothing excites me about it anymore. Early on I knew it was boring but tolerable, but now it started to becoming utterly boring and intolerable that I began to dread coming to the office almost every day. If not for the salary and the conversations with Ali, I would have been pulling my hair in dismay and sadness. But there are bills are to pay and a life to attend to, however meaningless that life is. I got to escape this mess, though. I just don't know when. Someone please give me a hard push. I want myself out of this.


Countdown - Sondre Lerche

Boom!

Hai friends. Guy and I would like to know how have you been doing. Oh, but since this is an inactive blog, no one would be answering. Hey, that's fine. Happy to be back. No matter where I go and how many good-byes are told, there's no place like home.

xxxxxx


XO/The Host - The Weeknd

Wake and be fine.

Hello Matt! Hello 2012! A new year has come, right?


All My Rage - Laura Marling

Footnote.

*The ego is dead but the ego can still write. The ego, at the moment, is wondering why, when everything starts to feel better after a vacation, a short trip abroad in which he has managed to recover from depression due to the loss of his niece, something would happen to make him feel very low again. Incredible timing, but time is the most merciless enemy. The ego cannot also help but think that all the while when he is on the trip, thinking of his paramour, the paramour is out with someone whom he is starting to fall for--or more appropriately, someone whom he has already fallen for ever since--even if the circumstances are not in their favor. Imagine--the ego is a single man being left for someone committed?--what a bloody way to murder the ego. On the subject of loss, the ego also wonders: why is it that love does not always beget love? Why is it that after all the good things done and given, the ego not expecting so much in return but stability, the ego's paramour still decides to cut ties and walk away, thinking that his disappearance from the ego's life will make it easier for the ego to move on and feel better? Why is it so hard to give back a good deed even if it's not romantic? The ego does things because he likes doing them, not because he wants to be loved back immensely. There are no answers, of course. On the contrary, the ego always deals with questions. The ego's paramour would always say that he is confused and fucked up, yet why is he so sure that he no longer likes the company of the ego, made evident by the paramour's disinterested text messages that are as seldom as shooting stars on an ordinary night? The ego, in fact, was also told that he is being left on account of his often bouts with depression, and the ego's paramour doesn't want someone who will pull him down because he is a downer too (but the ego argues: how about his promiscuity? haven't I accepted that wholeheartedly? haven't I always cared for him, so much in fact that it led to one of our dramatic fights--guess where--in the bathroom? whatever happened to compromise?) The ego also wonders why is it so hard for the ego's paramour to chase him--am I that repulsive? am I that ugly? am I so undeserving of explanation?--and by chase, the ego means being approached, being given the feeling that he is still desired (even if it's a lie on the ego's paramour's mind), the paramour doing the fucking move for Chrissakes. How easy for you! the ego thinks. How easy for you to let go. You can't even fight for the good times. The ego doesn't mind looking pathetic, but dear paramour, why not give him even the slightest grace of feeling his importance, whether sincere or feigned? Why so hard? You don't want him to get hurt? Bullshit. You don't want him to hope for a relationship? Bullshit. Your conscience is killing you? Bullshit. You are afraid to hurt the ego? Bullshit. Why not make the most out of the hurting? The ego was with you through some of your roughest times. Where were you when the ego felt the same way? Didn't you scoff at his suicidal tendencies, thinking "uh oh, this shouldn't be the type of person I should be with. . ." instead of meeting him up and giving him a hug personally? Is that too much to ask? You can't even approach the ego to talk after those two screenings at Shangri-la. You pretend you care about other people's feelings but you only care about yourself, how you don't want to feel bad again, and there you are, while the ego is thinking of you before he falls asleep, you are chatting with some boys past midnight, flirting, asking for advice, telling [paraphrased] “I just want to fuck boyfriends." Superb. Why is it so easy for you to accept your shortcomings yet so difficult to do something about them? Why can't you prove the ego's worth? Or is he really that worthless? Well, the ego accepts defeat. The ego, right at the start, is pathetic. And the ego still wonders if you're doing fine. And the ego's sure that he won't receive any word from you. Don't worry, the ego doesn't take offense. The ego is strong that way. Love does not always beget love, right? Shit happens. And it all goes back to the truth that the ego and the ego's paramour have (or had?) only been dating. Ha ha! Why did you keep that information--that explains everything! Everything! It's the ego's fault for holding on so much! In this world, labels are king. The ego was only a date, so he was treated like a date for several months. End of story. The wordy ego apologizes for being conditional, bows, and dances on his own. His mistake. So long, paramour. Have fun.


Slow Show - The National

First blog never dies.

I guess this is the end of the road for me on this blog. It's been five years. I was a Web content writer for an outsourcing company when I started this. I bawled my eyes out writing personal entries, spilled my guts, built my armor, fainted, shared happy and sad memories. This is my first social networking site on the Internet. I never had Friendster or Multiply or MySpace. I had Facebook for a month before deciding to delete it. I have Twitter. I have two blogs on Wordpress. I recently signed up for Tumblr. But nothing will ever match the time I had here on Blogspot. This was home. Many things happened in those five years. I graduated from college, Iya passed away, Nanay had a stroke and breast cancer, two good relationships ended, people called me "a film critic," I was hired at Alliance and stayed there for three years. . . stories, I had lots of them. Too bad I had to delete most of them. I regretted that, but there's nothing I can do about it now.

Now I work for a Korean company, writing English exams and proofreading essays. I've been here more than a year now. I can't say I like the job but it pays the bills, allows me to watch movies from time to time and buy books and CDs, go on dates sometimes. I still have plans of moving away to find work outside the country. Karen and I agreed to try Singapore since it's near and it's like Makati without the traffic and pollution. Personally, I'm after the music festivals and art exhibitions. Also, the distance. I'm itching to get away from the sadness of Manila. Too many painful things and failed connections.

I am in love with someone recently and it looks like it's going to work, but it also has a semblance of hurt in it (as with any relationships), like my impatience or his indifference is bound to tear us apart soon. I'm giving it time, and lord knows how clingy and mental I am, but there you go. That's part of the package. That's the last straw. Aside from my utter lack of savings, which I can work on eventually, he's the only thing keeping me here. The perils of being insensitive and sensitive at the same time: you want to be chased back.

Probably every nerd's favorite line from a Smiths song goes, And now I know how Joan of Arc felt / Now I know how Joan of Arc felt / As the flames rose to her Roman nose / And her Walkman started to melt, and I feel that way in the last couple of days. I was no longer the non-confrontational Chard I used to be. Now I want things clear, I want to understand, I want to know if I should stay or go. I want to make decisions sooner. I want to know. I feel like dying anytime soon. I feel like a heartbreak waiting to happen. But hell, I don't even have an idea how Joan of Arc felt that time. She might have been happy after all.

I am 23. I feel old but not very wise. I still think being in my 20s suck, and by suck I mean it stinks to high heaven. I hate it. It's stupid but I can't wait to be in my 30s. I'm hoping it'd be better, Don Draper-better (ugh). Everything's going to be fine when I get older, that much I know. Also, I hope I live until 2046. For more hipsterness.

I don't know why I chose this day to say goodbye. But yes, goodbye. The formality of farewells. At least you know when to let go, when to start to move on, and when to lick the wounds. "Signal Fire" is looping on my iPod for more than an hour now and Gary Lightbody sings, I don't wanna wait forever. He's right.

Buryong, I love you more than myself. I will miss you.



Signal Fire - Snow Patrol