Saturday, December 30, 2006

The shallower I get...

Many blogs ago I posted an entry about what I want in a woman.

I have read that entry over and over again lately to the point that I've realized that I ended up deleting some deluded chick's (who was probably someone I knew and had the perverse intentions of me) lunatic advice AND put her in her place. Sigh, the price of fame. I mean, hey, this blog isn't intended to catch someone's attention but rather share the irony of my somewhat complicated life caught in a tasteless yet complicated world. Anyway, back on topic.

I remembered the movie "Shallow Hal" (one of my favorites) as I thought about that blog. Of course, everyone who saw that movie can recall that Hal's dad was too drugged to be thinking straight but even in the midst of the ironic humor he had somewhat of a point. Find the most gorgeous woman there is with big round breasts, luscious lips and a hot body! Friends and visitors have often expressed concerns about my steep requirements for my woman of choice - shallow to a few of them. Hell, how can a steep requirement be shallow? Believe me, that long list didn't come without a high price. It is gained from years of observation, experience and a long-awaited realization about my taste in unpleasant women who's got more pussy than brains. I, for one, plead guilty to that debauchery. After all, we guys only think about sex like...90% of the time?

Illustrating your ideal mate often is the product of another facet of soul-searching. Some of the naive, ergo, idiotic advice I get is lowering my standards to give others a chance; that I should lower it because that's supposed to be what you do after each relationship. I see, make yourself more of a sex trap for more lunatic women! Why would I lower my standards after repeated failures at that pitiful level of scrutiny?

Picking a mate to me is like picking a puppy. The way I read it in a book: "Don't pick the last one because you feel sorry for it." I had committed this mistake more than once in my life. I often expressed sympathy to some of them for being so desperately in love with my mysterious nature - desperate being the operative word for the both of us. Honestly, I have only gone through those classical boy meets girl love stories a couple of times in my life. But, hey, theirs is not an excuse! For all they I know I could be some serial killer or some stalker - not that I am the last time I checked. Anyways, I share too much of myself to quite rub that mystery off of me. But is that really just who I am? And for all I know that's probably not as deep as I want them to see.

As I am closing more than a year of my, er, bachelorhood I find that seriously finding a mate could take longer than getting a date or laid on a weekend. Seriously, it really doesn't take long till one woman fails to fit the bill every time I see one. Frustrating, but if you're really not in a hurry then you're really going to enjoy the ride. I'm not expecting a rewarding outcome towards the end of all this but at least the thought that someone like me wasn't easily shot down is suspense enough. I just have to make sure that whoever shot me down was worth it all. After all, my dad once told me to make a choice, die now or die slowly.

Lately, I realized that it's really hard to emphasize on character because we initially see the exterior shell of a person. I really give emphasis on this. Aside from the fact that I am a man it's really the first thing you see. Let's face it, none of us, especially men, have the ability of reading people's minds, do we? From the moment I wrote that blog I knew that emphasis should be taken to her appearance as much as her character. Never again can I forgive myself if I let some mediocre gal (read: tasteless, useless, loser, has-been) or some ugly bitch (read: someone who can just kick it in bed coz any girl can be Nicole Kidman if they got a hole to stick it in) break my heart. If that girl is ever going to break my heart she better be gorgeous with men drooling all over ALL of her (not just that thing between her legs) and as intellectually superior as hell to boot. We really can't have a nobody tearing us down, can we? I say this because in the event of disillusionment we don't have to end up saying "My, God, why did I ever fall for that butt-ugly bitch in the first place?!!" Dead relationships should be remembered as good food that leaves something to desire not some exotic delicacy that leaves a rancid aftertaste.

In my native language we would say: "Kung mamiya siya! Hinanglan naa siya ikabuga!" (If she's gonna leave me, she better have something to show for it!) Suffice it to say that the next girl who's going to break my heart better be some rich bitch or some local famous gold digging goddess because I'll be damned if I ever let some two-bit nobody or has-been loser tear my insides inside out - if that were even possible!

We are told time and again that we can never find the perfect man or woman. If you look for the perfect person in the world he or she may not exist but if you look for the person who you deem perfect for you, then there is really a sure chance that such a person exists. I have thrown away all caution that I will never find a perfect mate. These "control" advice that these doctors like to tell you only seek to blind our eyes to what we can really do by hurting ourselves.

I will find her! I don't care how long it takes but I will. However, I still haven't figured out what to say or do when I do find her. :p Oh, well, I have all the time in the world to figure that out.

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Of Men and Dogs

The world is a constant dick-waving struggle. A never-ending testosterone war of Neanderthals. Seriously, it's times like these that I feel ashamed to be a human being - a male one at that.

I really hate the fact that wars are just a metaphor for comparing dick sizes. Really now! Someone once said this! Wars are basically a comparison of who's got the biggest di...er... missiles, rockets , bullets and any form of long shafted projectile. It's pure hypocrisy really. We're just screwing each other - literally.

Coincidentally, another non-human specie has this same behavior of some sort. I somewhat liken the human male species as a bunch of dogs. You see, some dogs are all so big and feeling so tough and the only way you can shut them up is to beat them with a big stick until they break down into a whimpering stupor. That's the same thing you do with men. They walk around feeling invincible and untouchable - the brainless masculinity syndrome. Walk up to them with a gun or just beat the crap out of them to put them in their place and they end up just like that dog I mentioned. The only difference and, amusingly significant, is that dogs don't talk behind your back and give pathetic excuses why they lost to you.

A single man or an entire nation has this kind of mentality. "We are powerful." Drop the bomb and they cower in silence; their pride broken. If only their arrogance were as true as their loss they would have fought till their dying breath but, no, they were put in their place of shame and fearing for their lives. If only most of us would live in the fact that we die with pride or live in shame. However, we still like to value our pitiful lives more than our pride. The only thing bigger than pride is life and any big, steel-balled man has walked that path.

If we were really so powerful we wouldn't have to show it off by waving our dicks in the air because ANY man can strike anyone down unexpectedly so stop being so conspicuous and let's all but our dicks in our pants.

If one day you bump into some other guy and he suddenly lashes out feeling all so tough at you, just remember it's just his way of showing his dick. You have the option to kick him in the balls or, if you're good with words, put his manly esteem to shame.

Sunday, December 24, 2006

The Morena - a tribute

Researchers found out that humans respond to a lot of factors in the environment. Our stimuli respond to even the most minute traces in the environment. These subtle presence in the world around us actually affect how we feel, the way we think, and even the way we look and how we look at others. The existence of a certain odorless scent (i.e. pheromones) influences our attraction and sex drive towards the opposite sex. Changes in temperature affect our temperament. The quality of air affects our cells that it is the deciding factor if we have great skin, stronger bones, efficient mental skills, our ability to regenerate and most notably our ability to live longer.

The particular sense and the particular stimulus I am going to take pleasure - and I do mean it in every sense of the word - is the eye's response to color. Yep, our body reacts to the colors we see as well. Believe it or not, some medical practitioners have even ventured into this thing called "Color Therapy".

In my case, for some reason, I find myself attracted to darker and tan-skinned women. While many other men might feel the same way I merely would like to blog this down on why I feel like this. This is my tribute to the real "golden girls" of the world.

Basically, they just drive me crazy. As my eyes gaze upon the dark-skinned woman my heart just races. It's even no wonder I can spot them a hundred meters away. This constant state of excitement really proves how the human senses can be manipulated to react to certain stimulus. It is such an interesting and euphoric sensation indeed.

Sure, to some, dark skin may be a disgusting thing - the paradigm of the Aryan culture. But I just can't explain it. In a way dark skin may be unpleasant but I think about the way the light kisses her skin and she turns golden brown; how she can be exposed in the sun with the rays giving only minimal harm to her; the way her skin only requires moderate care. I can never go wrong with her beauty. So sensual, exotic and erotic all at once. Most of all, they don't even have to be exceptionally beautiful to BE beautiful. They are just...them.

They call it color therapy. My eyes are very reactive at the sight of brown skin. I don't know if this is a twisted fetish of some sort but I'm taking it.

To all you you dark and tanned women out there. This one's for you! MWAH!

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Wasted! I died last night.

Just woke up today with a lingering feeling of the events that unfolded the night before.

The evening started just like any night out we organized. We made reservations at POD5 KTV located at the Banilad Town Center. I cannot shake the feeling that I forgot something at the office that night. I knew I left my backpack on purpose so I don't have to potentially drag anything else but myself back home. My building was just far away to make it convenient for me to check what I that unknown thing I left behind. Little did I know that this little excursion would not materialize due to the unforeseen outcome of tonight's debauchery.

To cut a long story short, after two bottles of tequila and a few glasses of Red Horse beer everything turned into a "dream state".

I last remembered walking to the bathroom before this overwhelming surge of drunkenness hit me like a disease. It felt like my very life was sucked out of me. I remembered bending over the toilet to relieve myself of unwanted toxins then finally kneeling over to relieve myself some more. I remembered getting up and leaning over the sink before finally falling backwards towards the wall. The world was black.

Everything else felt like a dream with random flashes of events occurring here and there... You can see and hear things going on but you really can't speak or move.

The events unfolded in a few minutes but, to my lackluster brain streaming with alcohol in it's very essence (for some reason I always thought it was already there), everything actually happened a couple of hours or so.

Event 1:
Someone opens the door. I couldn't see anything but the bottom of sink stand and the bottom of the toilet. I can see two pairs of legs walking around.

"Na naunsa naman ni? (What the...?)" says one voice.
"Pangitaa didto kung kinsa naka ila ani (try find someone in the rooms who can claim the body)" said another.

I can feel them groping my pants for some form of emergency info and all the while I was praying they don't find my cellphone and call my parents. They find my wallet and read my license. I'm somewhat thankful I didn't bring any cash with me that day.

I tried with all my might to muster the strength to stand up and come to my senses. Nothing... BLACK.

Event 2:
I can hear Fred's voice as he walks into the bathroom. I heard a second voice (I later discovered it was Lemuel).

"Ato sa ning limpyohan. (let's minimize the damage and obscure the cause of death)" says Fred. "Sige, boss, kami lang bahala ani. (We'll deal with this. You didn't see anything!)"

"Ngano ni anhi pa man ko oi?! (So that's why you called me here!)" Lemuel regretted.

I still could not move.

"Ato nalang ni ibalhin sa kwarto kai daghan naghulat sa gawas. (Hide the body. Kill the witnesses.)

BLACK.

Event 3:
Murmuring voices in the distance.

I don't know when it happened but I was told that the room was a pool of intestinal fortitude. Of course, I really couldn't see anything if I'm facing upwards.

I heard someone trying to wake me up to no avail. I could hear Romer throwing up in the distance.

BLACK.

Event 4:
Oh, no! I can hear my mom's voice! Please tell me this is a REAL dream! Please tell me someone didn't find my goddamn phone's number!

"Na unsa naman mo diri?! (Palahubog mani akong anak oi! Utro pud ning mga kaila!)" she scolded.

"Sorry, madam, wa man mi kabalo dali diay maigo si Chad. (I suggest you start claiming his insurance.)" Mikai apologized.

Unlike a previous colleague's experience with booze and parents, their presence wasn't strong enough to wake me from my drunken stupor. The motivation was moot at this point. If I stood up or if stayed down the reaction would be the same. As one boxer once said "Stay down. It's safer."

I remembered being carried away to our car with my mom screaming at the waiters

I also remembered some nitwit scream at the end of the hall. "Ma'am, wa pa raba na siya ka badge out!"

Sheyt! So that's what I forgot back at the office! :-O

Epilogue:
I remember waking up the next day at the sofa bed. I remember the guards carrying me there when we got home. I went to my room and scraped chunks of whatever-I-ate-last-night off my soiled and ruined shirt. After taking it off I passed out for good on my bed.

Friends = Enemy
Alcohol = Friend

Thursday, December 21, 2006

Expensive Buko Shake Ever!

Tonight I just drank the most senselessly expensive Brutus Buko Shake in my entire life.

I left work early just so I can show up at a friend's party early. I arrived only to find out that my phone calls were rejected and here I was stuck in the middle of god-knows-where with people giving me that I'm-a-foreigner look. I was here alone out in the open with practically no idea what to do.

She was busy as she said but how can rejected calls be a sign of busyness?

I couldn't go home now since I hadn't eaten and I couldn't just say that I'm early coz the host screwed me at her invitation. I ended up buying a drink at Brutus.

PhP80 for the fare to my bullshit destination
PhP34 for the Buko Shake
PhP105 for the return fare home
PhP90 for the one hour I wasn't working coz I left early

It felt like I just went there to buy Buko Shake! After finishing 3/4 of the shake I went home and even had a hard time getting a ride. I was so frustrated I lost my appetite.

Man, she is soooooo history!

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Loneliness Embraced

Ever since I was in elementary school I was always the person they counted out. Not that I was a freak of some kind that would shun you away at the very sight of me but I was at least, even by my standards today, normal. I was a kid who enjoyed the same things that every other kid wanted. Perhaps the peer pressure of not having what everyone else had made me the outcast or perhaps I was a little too high spirited at that age that kids would consider me - WEIRD.

Anyway, it did hurt me a bit but even since then I had a knack for being resourceful. When the human race turned it's back on me I went somewhere else. Perhaps the imaginary world of a child I created that world. Up to this day I have created an elaborate variety of fictional worlds that may even make any modern day movie to shame. I have explored both reality and fantasy during those lonely times. I went to the library and visited the garden from the micro to the macro points of view. I believe I have learned more than any kid my age ever could. I could literally give the details about grasshoppers, lions, dragons and even ghosts. Nothing wasn't interesting to me. The world became my playground and even my school became too small for me. The world has been shrinking since that day.

In highschool, while my sex-crazed classmates were drooling over teenage girls in other schools I was busy with my own deep thinking. I have been called every imaginable word of ridicule during these times. At first, it was an annoyance but then I began to accept it. This is who I am - different in so many ways to them. What they thought of me is just a paradigm to them. Non-conformance was the outcast's path; a path I took that I did not fear shame or rejection. Few kids survive from this torment - I wasn't one of them. At least I find comfort in the fact that today, these halfwit losers are either dead or miserably married.

A lot of things have lead me to the path of being lonely. Everything I did since my early days has always been deliberate. Since my childhood I have long accepted the fact that I was a loner - someone who thinks differently and shunned by many.

As I think about it today, I kinda like being the way I am now - still a loner. I answer to no one and need no one. There has always been an inexplicable harmony the way I live my life. As long as no one gets in the way, I'll be fine. If anyone gets in the way I run them over. If I can't run them over I eventually find a way to tear them down.

As I have survived more than a full year of bachelorhood I again begin to rekindle this lost appreciation as well. I began to wonder why I gave up THIS life to be dependent on someone else. Sure finding your better half is a good thing but these days it's never that simple and I am not sacrificing this life for something so uncertain. Unless they find a good formula for love I'll take my chances with myself. After all, you can't rush these things. Believe me, I made that mistake four times already. Just like my relationship with every other human being in my life I have learned to accept the fact that we all move on and someone HAS to get left behind or lost along the way. I still cringe at the thought that I find myself needing someone to be by my side; that I would somehow forget what it was like to be alone; that maybe when this sense of dependence is gone I would pathetically brood over a life that I left behind but have returned to.

I sometimes wondered what many twisted paths and chains of thought I took that brought me to this way of thinking. At first I thought it was unusual (something that shouldn't be a surprise given my history of deviance) but then I realized it was just a normal human philosophy that many men before me have thought. "That at the end of the day you only have yourself to make you happy." What the hell, right? It's a rare case to see someone stand by your side through trials and tribulation and defiantly defend you till the ends of the earth. I, for one, have not found such a person except maybe if I were to stare at myself in the mirror everyday.

Yes, I enjoy this life. I have found my peaceful serenity in myself. A chaotic mess of thoughts, dreams, ideas and conception. In this anarchy I have my laws, my rules and my order. It's no wonder why I can't sleep at night; my mind never stops working. My mind is trapped in eternal time. Its sense of imagination still the same since my childhood that I don't know whether to feel ashamed or be proud of it.

Many times in my mind I have imagined myself being alone. Days, months, years and decades. My mind has the uncanny ability to simulate time across ages. I feel no remorse or depression towards loneliness. I sometimes imagined myself marooned on an island. I can't help but wonder why does everyone I know fear being alone? Haven't they figured out that the world of humans is far too evil and corrupt to stress trivial things such as loneliness? The human existence is far too vile that the thought of living together has become somewhat of an uncertain and unstable truce. "Sure we can have peace. Don't mind my nuclear missiles aimed at your house. They're just for insurance." "Insurance for what?" "Insurance that we WILL have peace."

Pathetic.

On the road to self-discovery we pass that same phase akin to the path of recovery from loss. We feel DEPRESSED, IN DENIAL, and finally ACCEPTANCE. I have accepted my lonely life in this lonely world. I embrace it.

Monday, December 11, 2006

Still growing up

It has struck me again. A very familiar thing on my mind such as that of a child growing up. A few months ago I have blogged the joys of my new career. It's not that I am dissatisfied with my job. Every career has its perks and frustrations. The real issue here is that it has lost its magic.

While there's probably nothing wrong with it or it's just me but like anything I chase after in my life becomes meaningless once I have it. It's probably that egotistical manly hormone that's talking right now but it is still worth a listen. Logically speaking, I know it's just me growing up. When the things you do become old it's an obvious sign that your mind is still growing up. As a child we often find ourselves getting bored with our toys, wanting more and more complicated and complex things.

A few months to a few years ago all I could think of was find a place where I could dedicate all my time and energy for the ultimate goal of a company. As I am nearing the 29th year of my existence on this planet I look back at all of it and I ask myself, "Why bother?" Along with this thought I also look back on a few of my recent entries and it does appear to be very inclined to the anti-employment attitude.

While to my colleagues I may now seem like dead weight to them I see this as a good thing. Because unlike them I have moved up a notch in this sense of realization. My goal is no longer to find some place to work and be a corporate bitch while kissing the CEO's ass but to find a way for people to do the same for me. Business is my next step. I'm moving out of the rat race and I want to find a good way to do that. No compensation, retirement pay, or any bonus pay can sway me to change my mind. After all, the catch for such "charges" is to continue being a rat. I'm no rat. I'm a sniveling weasel that will tear down the paradigm that I once cherished.

How could I have been so naive? Ah, the price of growing up!

What others are yacking...