Entries for January, 2007
Out of the 16 days of this Holiday Season, one thing stuck to me: they call me the one-rounder. To those who cannot get this, I will not elaborate. 
This post will remain a wholesome one.
Ahem.
There are many things that I have concluded by December 31 of 2006. The people around me really are getting old. And so am I. Everyone is suddenly health-conscious. Is it just me who thought before that this couldn't happen? Realization is further strengthened by the presence of a much newer generation running around and calling me "auntie" or "tita". My aunts and uncles are now called "lola" and "lolo". I have learned that where ever I go, there will always be people tougher than me (like say, in drinking, haha). But it's always been in my nature to be up for a fight. Win the rat race. Whatever you want to call it. I have been born into a very big family, raised to be competitive, raised to become a leader. They call it training. When my cousins and I were discussing the schedule of events, my uncle said "This is a meeting of future world leaders".
That was probably an exaggeration. But there was also probably a hint of truth in it. I was born in a very proud family, and I will bear my children in the same one. There was a time when I said I lost my dream. Nothing like coming back to home and having it again. Of course there were many factors involved. My boyfriend told me that just-rich wives rarely exist these days. And I knew it was true. In this day and age, in any country, unless you're a politician's wife or of equal status, everbody works.
Analyzing my parent's stories, their fortunes were a result of outstanding performance in their own fields. And my dreams were reawakened. I'll get there, in my own style. 
So for 2007, I'll be enjoying life like I always did, with a motive or two this time. 
I don't even know how to begin this. The premise of the story is rather dark, unusual, and just wrong. However, because of the character developments as the story progressed, I could not stop reading until I reached the 44th chapter, the latest available. The sun was finally up, and when I looked at the watch it was 4:58 A.M.
The twists are obvious, the characters are stereotypical, but it being totally shoujo (for girls), oozing with mushiness, I guess that was my glueing factor at the start. But like I said, I fell in love with the characters (or perhaps a character *wink*) that I also grew to love the story. I am very vulnerable when it comes to rich bad boys with some insecurity complex.
And that's exactly what Tachibana Ryouki is. But he's not the main character. The "star" (I don't think it too appropriate to call her "heroine"), is the total opposite of Ryouki: the goody-goody doormat average girl with many siblings, Narita Hatsumi.
Unlike the usual stories however, the problem was not caused by the main character's stupidity or wrong choice of decisions. It starts with her very weakness, her family living in a company housing lying low under the scrutiny of the company director's wife, Tachibana-san (Mrs. Tachibana). You'll say "Aw come on, this is just screaming for trouble!". And it does come, in just two or three pages. Her sister who is still in junior high complains she might be pregnant and begs Hatsumi to buy the pregnancy tests. Of course our doormat "heroine" complies, but is found out by the cute, spoiled, company director's son, Ryouki who thinks she bought them for herself. As Hatsumi cannot explain the reason (living in a place where gossip spreads like wild fire and in an effort to protect her little sister), she is at the mercy of Ryouki who blackmails her to become her slave.
Now this is where things get... wrong, scary, and just... wrong. Cute, spoiled, and twisted master boy demands to feel poor doormat slave-girl up. This may be majorly harassing to other readers (including me) but I have for some time been reading shoujo manga and these scenes occur a lot. I am assuming the culture differences are accountable for the different degrees of violence in reaction (as the writer is Japanese). The act however, is as of now, interrupted when childhood friend-turned-model turns up to protect our slave girl.
And the bizarre love triangle begins.
You'll say "That's all?" I've mentioned that I've read a lot of these stuff and this doesn't faze me either. But when our supposed rescuer turns up to be the villian who attempts to gang-rape Hatsumi and put it on tape, this isn't light reading now is it? And of course, the new hero is none other than the maniac master boy. So who's Hatsumi to trust? Because of these serious, nearly taboo scenes, coupled with the mushiness, should I squirm like a little fan-girl?
Getting to know the motives of each character and understanding their personalities however, got me thinking twice if I should just consider this story as simple damsel-in-distress corny sh*t, or a simple story with complex characters. I considered it to be the latter. If you're interested, you can download it off torrent sites, or ask me about it. ^_^
Title: Hot Gimmick
Type: Graphic Novel/ Manga
Author and Art: Aihara Miki
Manga rating:
/10
When I went and checked the details of the movie Whisper of the Heart, I didn't know what to expect. Viewer feedback was quite impressive, but gathering from the movie poster I saw, I could not imagine why. It was a picture of a girl in old-fashioned clothes, holding hands with a cat in a suit with a hat and cane, and they were up in the sky, flying. What's this movie all about? And the introduction the encyclopedia provided was simply:
...a young girl in junior high, loves to read. Yet, every time she opens a library book, it seems the same name appears on the cards: "Seiji Amasawa". As she learns who this person is, she also begins to learn about herself and her goals in life - a discovery that will change her life forever.
Admit it. Gathering from what I've told you, can you get what it's all about? I was figuring, maybe this "Seiji" was the cat or something, calling her to his world. Who knows? And even while watching the movie, and reaching almost half-way, I was still expecting this would show up. You know what? It didn't.
The story was far, far, far away from fantasy as Saturn is to Earth. In fact, it was so real you could almost touch the grandfather clock ticking in the story's shop. It was overwhelming. Maybe if it was just a movie, with real people acting and real props put up, it wouldn't have been that effective. What grabbed me the most was the fact that it was all on animation. Perfectly drawn, and I doubt if CG was ever used here. This is a story all about a young girl's last year in junior high, a story you can probably relate to, something that probably happened to you, but you're watching it all on animation. It's amazing that a story as real as this was even considered as a plot for an animated movie, but that they pulled it off with whopping success. Ambitious, yet they did it.
Screenshot of the shop (It's that good!)
I mean, this isn't the first time I've seen animations with stories about real people. Kare-Kano (His and her Circumstances) for one, is a story about two top-of-the-class rivals who develop feelings for each other. Genshiken (The Society for the Study of Modern Visual Culture) is a story about anime fans in the university. NANA is a story about two 20-year old girls who become friends. There are many others. But this one was certainly different. Perhaps more on the level of Tokyo Godfathers. Maybe because they were both movies while the rest I've mentioned were TV productions.
Even then, I'm saying that it's a must-watch film. It's art is amazing, it's a feel-good story you'll feel warm and fuzzy all over.
Title: Whisper of the Heart
Type: Animated Film
Vintage: 1995
Original Manga by Aoi Hiiragi
Screenplay and Storyboard by Hayao Miyazaki
Rating:
/10--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Credits:
Anime News Network for the statistics and necessary information.
Neus Caragay, my sister's boyfriend who gave me the Studio Ghibli Special box set. Arigatou!
I am forever searching for stories. In any form. Be it written, sung, drawn, or merely told. I thirst for a new story. I want to know more people, find depth, fear, and love. Now I understand how people of the bonfire era felt. They needed to fill the emptiness, and quench their imagination, or their souls would dry up.
I cannot conceive how some people can survive without having to read a single book, not having to treasure a valuable film, not having to appreciate other worlds but their own. Or is my life that uneventful that I look for people that only exist in stories to visit mine? Is it not but human to dream though? Of worlds unseen that we strive to make them as real as possible in our own little world. Or of stories so real you'd think it was all about you. And it is but human to absorb emotion. To feel happy, as the characters feel, or devastated at the loss of a lifetime companion.
Someone asked me what I could have learned from the stories I've read or watched. For he argued that he read to study, and apply it in his profession to improve his career. He asked me what would have changed if I knew this story, or that. And I was silent. I could not say. But I'd sure feel empty if I knew none.
Again and again. I thought it was over. I thought I've turned a new chapter in my life. But I woke up this morning with my head aching and thought, "What have I been doing?"
Well maybe I did walk into a new chapter. But I'm still the same character in this novel. See, when a novelist creates her characters, she makes the story so that we see the characters change over time. Perhaps the person who doesn't have a life begins to have new adventures. Or a villainous one realizes his mistakes and lives anew. They say you write your own life. So I'm the author who's taken so long to finish this godd*mned story. It's been what, 571,875 chapters and I'm still the same? How many mornings has it been that I wake up regretting? Or pissed? Or annoyed? With the stupid things I've done. I thought I was completely over it. Wasn't it just last night that I proudly announced to my audience, "I'm finally getting the hang of it. Hey, I'm passionate for once!"?
I'm telling you. Distractions can kill. And just when I'm pissed at myself, being miserable, and hopeless, a song knocks at my skull and gets me thinking yet again. Talk about piles of trivial, yet really annoying things. It was an opening song of the famous shonen (internationally known, of course) tv series Bleach. It was catchy, it was cool, and when I checked it out it was written and performed by a young Japanese girl born almost 20 years ago on a March 26. It was just too... coincidental? Inspirational? How about... painful?
I was born on March 26, 1987. She, YUI, was born on March 26, 1987. She starred in a movie Midnight Sun that was an entry at the Cannes Film Festival 2006. Her song was used as a soundtrack, and because of this, people all over the world know her. I can't say she's lucky.
People like her pursue their dreams. They do something about it. Meanwhile I'm here, distracted as ever, too lazy to eat my dinner.
Baboysai listens to Rolling Star by YUI (Bleach Op. Song 5)
Baboysai reads Vampire Knight (Bishies galore!)
I don't know why the author did it. Probably because if it's a sad ending, you see your imposed good ending in your dreams. It sticks to you. When I got to see the last panels of the story, something huge and universal crushed my heart, and all I could say was... well, I couldn't say anything. I choked on my own saliva. Ai Yazawa, you are a goddess.
I had been hearing about Paradise Kiss for a long time. The story was written by Ai Yazawa, the same author of NANA. Reading her more recent work, and getting positive reviews from this said story, I was expecting a lot.
Cute leading man- check.
Pretty leading lady- check.
Reading from an introductory "summary", it told of a high school senior, Yukari, who knew of no other life than studies, to live up to her mother's expectations. (We're hearing this word often. Thesaurus please?) When she gets kidnapped by a group of fashion design students to become their model, she sees that there are actually people who do things because they want to. She is not only lured into the world of fashion (tell me, which girl wouldn't?). While the story is about Yukari's transition into a woman with a passion and gaining her own stand, the most interesting character is none other than the cool leading man, George. I expected (sorry, the thesaurus returned zero results) their acceptance of their love for each other would be the climax, and was quite surprised that their love was easily established in the earliest parts of the story. So what should I expect then?
That's where the expectations ended. Although the gist was quite cliche like most girls' stories (a cute guy falls in love with a cute girl, and hey guess what, she loves him back!), I have to say Yazawa was very creative with her characters. It's always the characters that decide the story in the end, right?
Nagase Arashi- You wouldn't really think he'd be a fashion designer, being a guitarist from a (seemingly) punk band, and a son of a (seemingly) famous musician. But well, there he is, sewing his ass off with the sewing machine.
Sakurada Miwako- I thought at first glance she was a 12-year old. Of course, the complete Lolita in any manga. Pink curly hair and a cute little dress. Then I see her on top of the pool table, with Arashi f*cking her.
Okay... And the pink hair was just a wig. She's really a senior like the rest of them.Isabella- She was really drawn very beautifully that I didn't quite get why everyone else in the story could really tell that she was actually... a guy. Maybe because I can't hear her, oh, him talk. It's really interesting to see her, um, his face when somebody calls him by his real name, Yamamoto Daisuke. Isabella (to avoid using confusing pronouns) has the least number of lines and appearances, but at the right times, is shown as a very sweet and sensitive person.
Not to mention George. Characterizing George would take two full pages, and I'm sure the author had fun doing that. If the characters were less eccentric as this, the story would turn bland. And any more insane than they already are wouldn't make it believable. It was the right choice for Yazawa. The art was also superb, as ever, and as a story in the fashion world, she must have had fun drawing those clothes. I have yet to see the anime to see if they did her justice.
I just couldn't understand why it had to have a sad ending though. I'm not saying that the story was ruined by the sad ending. It was just... so shocking and... sad.
But howell, all good things must come to an end, for a new promise to bloom.10
Title: Paradise Kiss
Manga-ka: Ai Yazawa
Genre: Josei (older girls)
Type: Manga/ Graphic Novel
Rating:
/
When I watched Punch Drunk Love by Adam Sandler, I accepted that I didn't quite get it. I didn't try pretending. Haha. Even my film major friend was left speechless. Surrealism just takes you by surprise. Although it amuses me most of the times, extreme ones just need you to settle a bit, gobble a lot of Piknik (TM), and get amused all the same.
I didn't expect that the animation for Paradise Kiss (see previous entry) would be like this. Since the reviews were all about "eye-candy! eye-candy!" or "great animation!", I thought it would be along the lines of Beck/ Mongolian Chop Squad, or Ouran High Host Club with a few more tweaks. By this time, my film major friend had probably developed a deeper taste in the art. We were both downloading the sneak peak into this series from Youtube (TM), and when we saw it, again, we were speechless. Like blood roses suddenly bloomed on a white winter day. That's what Paradise Kiss felt like. And I admit, when you see red roses time-lapsed in front of your eyes like that, you wouldn't be comfortable either. The right word for my first impression on Paradise Kiss animated version is: Disarming.
Real pictures with animated frogs falling off people's hats, 5-foot long dogs around real people's shoes, Godzilla walking by real movie houses, UFO's crashing on real buildings. You hear real people bustling in the streets, and suddenly, the camera pans into a bright dream-like pink room. The realm of animation begins here, or does it? It's odd, it makes me blink a lot of times, it makes my eyebrows meet. But it's... beautiful. The reviewers were right about that. The clothes were animated to the finest details that the patterns on them looked so real. Also, I noticed that since I settled for any quality in animation, I was not quite used to seeing characters' lips synching perfectly. Even camera shots were awkward. Imagine the movie Amelie, but animated. And you get half the picture of what I'm trying to say.
One reviewer commented about the soundtrack not being a strong point of the production, except for the opening and end themes. I somehow agree, but I do have a theory behind it. As I tried explaining earlier, the visuals are very overwhelming. Although they attempted at surrealism in the visuals, the sounds they used were very real, or that they wanted to achieve a very real effect. Which for me, is okay. It worked well with the stunning animation they didn't need any heavy music or unnecessary sounds. The opening and end themes were also perfect. They actually used Franz Ferdinand's Do You Want To. Performed by the said artist, not by a Japanese artist.
Seeing this animation made me realize what Ai Yazawa wanted. While reading the story I didn't consider that it could be in a "surreal" world. Well, the main character does dream, and she gets to live it. Like drinking wine, and drowning in your little glass. Kissed by Paradise.
Directed by Osamu Kobayashi
Original Story by Yazawa Ai
I told them this wasn't healthy. I told them I had to stop this. They told me:
"Aww, that's so cute!"
Was that right? Here I was, expressing my worries about my well-being and they say:
"Aww, that's so cute!" ??
Maybe you will say otherwise, so I'll give you a shot. For a long time now I've been suffering from an illness that prevents me from working on my own. This illness stops me from doing anything alone, because I might have an attack. Therefore I must not be left to sleep with no one to watch over me. It's really scary, and impairs me to move on. I don't know how to stop this. I am madly in love.
I told myself this was no longer healthy. I cannot sleep without him to hold me. I cannot leave the house if he doesn't leave with me. Godd*mn, I can't do a single thing without him. And I know it's killing me. As Sudarshan Khadka Jr. put it,
"I can't internet without you!".
Hahahaha. That cracked me up.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I am addicted. I experience withdrawal symptoms when I don't get to hold his hand within the day. I refuse to do any activity and stare into space if he's not with me.
It's just a phase, I know. But I don't know if I'd like to get over it or not.
Alvin Cruz came from an all-boys high school seminary. He is brilliant enough to get into the University of the Philippines, Diliman. He reads his books, eats his meals and washes his green glass. He believes in God and talks to "Him" everyday, before turning off his head lamp to sleep. Alvin Cruz is a good boy.
Alvin Cruz remembers seeing Aizza for the first time. At the acquaintance party in the dormitory. Aizza walks to the stage. The toned muscles of her long, tanned legs flex with every step. She grabs the microphone, and he sees her fingernails painted a bloody red. She opens her mouth and moistens her lips. She sings. Beautifully. Alvin had seen an angel.
Alvin Cruz goes to dinner by six o'clock on Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays and Sundays. Because Aizza always eats her dinner early. Alvin goes to dinner by seven on Tuesdays and Fridays. Aizza buys pastillas at the counter at this time.
Alvin Cruz has talked to Aizza a couple of times. Once when he was in the RA's office, Aizza walked in to ask for a late night permit. "I don't... know where Kuya Mike is". That was his longest sentence intended for, and audible to Aizza. But Aizza is not an angel, really. Because if she were, she'd hear Alvin's thoughts, and she would love him back.
They're both convinced
that a sudden passion joined them.
Such certainty is beautiful,
but uncertainty is more beautiful still.
Since they'd never met before, they're sure
that there'd been nothing between them.
But what's the word from the streets, staircases, hallways...
Perhaps they've passed by each other a million times?
I want to ask them
if they don't remember
a moment face to face
in some revolving door?
perhaps a "sorry" muttered in a crowd?
a curt "wrong number" caught in the receiver?
but I know the answer.
No, they don't remember.
They'd be amazed to hear
that Chance has been toying with them
now for years.
Not quite ready yet
to become their Destiny,
it pushed them close, drove them apart,
it barred their path,
stiffling a laugh,
and then leaped aside.
There were signs and signals
even if they couldn't read them yet.
Perhaps three years ago
or just last Tuesday
a certain leaf fluttered
from one shoulder to another?
Something was dropped and then picked up.
Who knows, maybe the ball that vanished
into childhood's thicket?
There were doorknobs and doorbells
where one touch had covered another
beforehand.
Suitcases checked and standing side by side.
One night, perhaps, the same dream
grown hazy by morning.
Every beginning
is only a sequel, after all,
and the book of events
is always open halfway through.
Love at First Sight by Wislawa Szymborska
Original version written in Polish
REVIEW:
Loved Serendipity? I didn't. It was too... hollywood. What annoyed me more was that it was too pretentious. As much as I like John Cusack, that did not override how I felt about the movie.
But this isn't about Serendipity. You've got to love Chinese film makers for their exaggeration. In this case though, it's a Singaporean movie set in Taipei. Well, yeah. The plot might not have been original, but they stripped the whole thing of it's unnecessary dialogues it's like watching a music video. Like the words from Wislawa Szymborska's poem floated all over. I admit, if it wasn't for this movie, I wouldn't have known about her poem.
I'm not good with numbers and memorizing, but the movie's dialogues were just about two student numbers and two phone numbers that I knew what they were talking about. It's even funny how the climax was built around the scenes where all they kept saying were these two student numbers, but it made me sigh nonetheless.
Though the movie is on a "sad" note, at points irritating because they're so close yet so far (although not really because I knew they'd have to meet in the end), the movie was quite light. The difference between this movie and Serendipity is the way the story was told. Because of it's exaggeration, it was like watching poetry instead of an amateur's fanfiction. I didn't expect the end scene to be that way. But maybe, if you start exaggerating, it's better to go all the way.
What I've learned from the movie though, is to always turn left, and turn right. Then probably also check under the footbridge I'm walking on. Who knows, maybe my Mr. Right is just around the corner? Literally.
Title: Turn Left, Turn Right
Release: 2003
Gigi Leung, Takeshi Kaneshiro
Original Story: A Chance of Sunshine by Jimmy Liao
Rating: /10
For the benefit of everyone reading (and caring), I, Baboysai, am forcing a split personality. This is to fulfill certain requirements in my Creative Writing class which is writing a blog for a certain Alvin Cruz, a totally fictitious character. The Alvin Cruz Chronicles is actually the series of blog entries I contribute for our leading man's rather empty blog as of the moment.
----Voice-over Terminated--- (Alvin Cruz Mode... ahem.)
"Andun na naman siya."
I looked up from my roommate's PC and saw him standing by the door. I continued watching the Taiwanese movie.
"Hoy..." I paused the program. He was right behind me now. I turned and looked up at him. I honestly didn't want to hear about Lorelei. Why should I care? But Christopher, where did you see her?
"Sa pok-pok area. Naglalaro kasi sina Elwin. Kasama nya si Dana, galing Mess Hall. Di pa umaakyat, may mga baso pa." Ah. Elwin. The basketball-playing university scholar.
"Ano, bababa ka ba? Gusto mo ano? Gagamitin ko din ang PC e."
"Akala ko ayaw mo sa kanya?"
"E di naman ako ang pinag-uusapan dito. Bilis, tayo. May gagawin pa ako."
I ejected the CD I borrowed from a film-major friend of mine down the basement. I figured I'd watch it in his room. But then again, I watched it up here because he'd watched it earlier already. Christopher, you didn't let me finish the movie, but it's your PC.
"Ano, pupunta ka ba dun? Di ka naman naglalaro e, ano palusot mo?"
I didn't answer him. Don't talk about Lorelei please. As I was at the landing, Christopher ran after me. He was bringing his guitar.
"Nakalimutan mo, pre."
I didn't know what to do with it, but I was being stupid. I took it, walked down the stairs to the basement. Before I turned left toward Rooroo's room, I walked back and took the stairs again. I reached the first floor, paused before the door, looked at the guitar I was holding, and went straight to the planter boxes, what Christopher called Pokpok area. I could only see Dana leaning by the glass. Then I heard her laugh. Lorelei. I turned back, walked up the stairs, and reached my room. Christopher wasn't there. The PC was turned off. I dropped on my bed, closed my eyes, and talked to God. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Note: Lorelei is Aizza from Chapter 1. It's just that Alvin cannot use her name in his blog, or she might read it.
(Alvin Cruz Mode- I won't have to mention this the next time do I? It's 17 extra presses on my keyboard, demmit)
A friend told me blogging made her feel "connected". How does blogging work? Web+log= blog. Maddox hates this word. But you know, there's something about the anonymity that led me here. Anonymity in Friendster. The fact that I don't know who gets to read what I think. But that it's actually there for people to read it. What I think. And it's addictive, for a time. Maybe I'll grow tired of this, or simply grow up. Get used to the world. Then I'd have nothing to talk about.
Then you'd have grown up much more than I have, probably. Because somehow, you're just faster at everything than I am. A friend told me blogging made her feel connected. Can I connect with you? No. I thought so too. Well, what if? Just... what if? Or maybe, I'll die not knowing.
My mother called earlier today. She asked if I went to mass. I said I'd go by 6:00.
"Gakaon man kaha ka'g tarong dong? Unya, imong mga subjects, ok lang?" You're eating right, dong? And your subjects, are they ok?
I told her there was nothing to worry about. I told her I missed her, and the twins. I put the phone down and dropped on the bed. I was supposed to meet my sister at church. We've been that way every Sunday since I came here. But today, I kind of... didn't want to go. It was already 6:30. Christopher went home to his aunt, bringing heaps of laundry with him. Only the ticks of the clock could be heard. Where was everybody on a Sunday?
I didn't even get up to turn on the lights. It was dark, and the darkness was hurting my eyes. I shouldn't have turned Him down. I should have went to mass today. But today, I doubted Him.
Before Christopher went home today, he told me something.
"Pre, sa tingin ko kailangan ko nang sabihin sa iyo 'to. 'Yang si *****, hindi na yan virgin."
Then he left. Christopher can be so cruel. He didn't even give me a chance to ask him what he meant. I'd been lying in bed ever since. Then my cellphone rang.
It was already 7:30. It was my sister, and she apparently was pissed I stood her up. I treated her to dinner to shut her up. I tried to tell her about Lorelei, many times before this, but I just couldn't. What would she think? And because of what Chirstopher said, the more I tried to suppress it. She obviously knew I was hiding something. She didn't ask me though. She knows me too well.
I wish I could talk to her though. My sister knows a lot. I'm just a loser.
I swear. After probably 10 days of sitting on my *ss, I'm feeling it. It's getting numb, like I feel it's rotting. In 15 schooldays since the holidays, I have only attended about 8. I haven't submitted a major assignment today. Not because I didn't know how to solve it, but that I was so overwhelmed I did it, that drafting the solution on a 1-m wide paper paled in comparison. Nothing feels like a Eureka moment when I've answered an assymetric truss problem.
We had a class trip to research on a certain old town 4 hours drive from here. But it cost me money. And much as I would have prefered to believe it wasn't a problem, well, it was. Demmit, where's the rich dad I need him? Unfortunately, unbelievable as it may sound, I had a sudden attack of guilt. I didn't dare ask him this time. 
I was at my limit. I think I always reach this point though whenever school's almost over. Two months left. What have I got to lose? Um, well, another schoolyear and 96,000 puks to be exact, not including *extra* expenses. If it weren't for this paragraph, I wouldn't have bothered calculating it all, therefore I wouldn't have realized the consequence to be that severe. Not on my part, perhaps, but on the part of my parents, working their butts off to support me, living this crappy life. And they don't know it. 
Anyway, since I didn't go on the trip, I thought I'd play with a little Photoshop. I didn't expect it to be extremely entertaining.
I had fun with 12 pictures for the whole afternoon. And my *ss muscles are aching.
So far I've been moping around, and thinking things again and again. You know, dreams and ambitions are -NOT- trivial. That's why I can no longer get over it unless I've really thought things through. Confirmation, decisiveness. I have to acheive that.
However this is not an easy task. It is not a no-cook process. I may be really impulsive at times. Mantra: What's done is done. There's nothing we can do about it. That's what I always think. No turning back. Head-on all the time.
But you know, it's really a good thing. Being aggravated, and annoyed, and frustrated to the maximum point. PMS, probably. That if it were not for this, I could not have noticed.
Blessings come in disguises. I'm really a very optimistic person. Like I said a few entries back, I'll get there, in my own style. I'm still feeling my way but I'll really get there. Or I die not knowing.
Posted on: January 28, 2007, 05:53:07 AM baboysai:
btw, yo! anybody interested in making a jpop/rock band? I've been wanting to be part of one for the longest time.
Ako ay preferably bokalista. Marunong mag rythm, siguro konting lead kung aaralin, pero mainly I do vocals. ayun... shameless plug na to. Malay natin, may naghahanap din... -_-
« Reply #311 on: January 28, 2007, 04:52:17 PM » KakashiTux-Sensei
can you sing japanese na, with proper pronunciation and diction?
« Reply #312 on: January 28, 2007, 08:44:50 PM » baboysai:
ya i can sing any new japanese song if I practice maghapon, hee.
Madali lang ang diction ng Yakusoku Wa Iranai. I really like to sing Maaya Sakamoto songs.
Maliban dun... um... mga naaral ko ay: houkiboshi, rolling star (yung bagong bleach op), it's gonna rain, sakura kiss, , kiseki no umi, cruel angel's thesis, sobakasu, first love, yubiwa.
pwede ko ring tumira ng Ghost in the Shell SAC- Inner Universe kung tinopak ako hahahahahaha. At Coheed and Cambria. ^_^
« Reply #313 on: January 28, 2007, 09:20:40 PM » hunter71485 | |
« Reply #314 on: January 28, 2007, 09:44:47 PM » baboysai:
-_- naghahanap pa nga lang e... haha. so far kumakanta lang ako pag iniimbita ng isa pang banda or something, kasi ala talaga akong band of my own. at never pa ako nakakanta ng jap on stage. Local and english songs lang. Kaya kung sinong wala pang banda jan, abay join na tayo! Bilis!
« Reply #363 on: January 30, 2007, 12:14:32 PM » gian
Tagal bago ko nakita to, hahaha! Last band ko nagkagulo kasi nag-away kami ng drummer, dinitch kasi kami three days bago mag big gig tapos naasar nalang ako. Sayang yun, galing pa naman niya, mahirap maghanap ng magaling na drummer... pero mas mahirap parin maghanap ng magaling na bassist. :XP
Mga pinoy na mahilig sa manga, siguradong may art inclination, whether it be digital or musical. XD
I play guitar and I sing, my ex told me I sound like Andrew from Something Corporate, pero feel ko hindi talaga. Hahaha!
« Reply #368 on: January 30, 2007, 08:14:44 PM » baboysai:
gian, you a bassist? Tapos yun nga, mahirap maghanap ng drummer. My anime friend pwede sana but he's still studying the drums... so that's not good enough for now. Kaso ang gusto ko, now. HEHE.
« Reply #386 on: January 31, 2007, 07:33:31 AM » gian
Kung gusto mo talaga, may friend ako kaso di ganun kagaling, haha! Guitarist ako, pero yung old bassist namin game sa kahit anong jamming.
« Reply #394 on: January 31, 2007, 10:50:38 AM » baboysai
deezeezeet!! sabi ko na nga ba pag gusto may paraan!! jam tau!! -_- huwaw por da pirst taym i feel nervous!
« Reply #401 on: January 31, 2007, 11:12:28 AM » gian
Anong song ba trip mong icover? Haha!
« Reply #403 on: January 31, 2007, 11:21:04 AM » baboysai
aaah kahit ano... namention ko na ata dito (some page 20 or something) kung ano na yung mga naaral ko. Wawa ako nagd-dl lang ng karaoke mp3s hehe.
O.O
I'll keep you posted.
about baboysai
status
Baboysai is lonely and gorgeous.
inside this brain
Even deeper inside
Post-its
their brains
credits
Content and Design © baboysai
Usericons from Smartania
Image hosted by Photobucket
Site powered by Tabulas