tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63314488815183332642012-02-16T15:47:20.380+08:00Because it looks so damn good.Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.comBlogger221100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-33295434406555624742011-04-03T15:02:00.010+08:002011-04-04T01:13:59.958+08:00

Hey, but I’m sick of everybody Tellin’ me what to do. - Poe On March 15 this year, I scheduled a meeting with my immediate superior, and promptly told her I was done with the firm. Fin. Kaputt. I was, of course, considerate enough to give four weeks' notice, but that's about as far as my commitment goes.After that, I get to unshackle myself and say hello to sweet sweet freedom. You see, I

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-89752471775186189022010-10-14T01:54:00.008+08:002010-10-14T02:21:14.813+08:00

And is there any point in ever having children? No, I don’t know. - The Smiths I’m cobbling together this entry while waiting for the saucepan to heat up. Green chicken curry’s the project for tonight, although I’d call it a wussy version of the real Thai deal; I got store-bought green curry paste instead of pounding away at a whole bunch of herbs with a mortar and pestle. My excuses are

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-20111186744336079582010-09-27T21:02:00.005+08:002010-12-02T22:53:38.161+08:00

Mystery achievement, where’s my sandy beach, yeah? I got my dreams like everybody else, but they’re out of reach, I said right out of reach! - The Pretenders I'll be turning 27 on November, and the bald reality of that number is making me feel a little funny. Make no mistake: I'm not slipping into a terminal case of denial about getting older, the way some folks chirp about how it's their 18th

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-34474884272950863882010-05-03T21:58:00.018+08:002010-05-27T06:37:49.611+08:00

But don’t forget the songs that made you cryAnd the songs that saved your life.- The Smiths For a good long while, I went out of my way to draw up a post or two each week, the words jumping out of me and onto the screen when the compulsion to blog kicked in.  I don’t know what happened.  I must have been very lonely, I must have wanted an audience, but couldn’t perhaps admit it in my

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-59422966358008508292010-01-25T00:17:00.004+08:002010-01-25T09:50:40.994+08:00

My brain hurt like a warehouse It had no room to spare. -David Bowie Of all my current vices, what frustrates me the most is probably my stubborn addiction to cabs. Not because cabs are fundamentally irritating (although I’m sure New Yorkers will beg to differ), but because they – more than cigarettes, more than alcohol – are mobile black holes for money, in a way that feels more direct and

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-32216826719232480402009-03-25T01:39:00.036+08:002010-08-06T17:46:46.969+08:00

Why is the last mile the hardest mile? My throat was dry, with the sun in my eyes. - The Smiths January in Review: Quitting Smoking + First Climb of the Year It's never been a secret to anyone how badly I was addicted to smoking, and I've always pandered to the habit without any compunction. There was no guilt involved, no feelings of self-loathing. I loved cigarettes (my fondness tipping

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-56415154722111108242009-02-16T01:24:00.038+08:002009-02-17T03:02:37.567+08:00

You got blood on your face, you big disgrace,Wavin' your banner all over the place.- QueenMuch has already been said about the "25 Random Things..." meme that's become a monolithic sensation on Facebook -- Facebook, which is itself a Goliath of a phenomenon to begin with. Just today, my eyes floated over to the box where my Facebook contacts are stowed away, and realized with a start that I had

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-43762616676976298462009-02-10T22:59:00.026+08:002010-05-24T20:06:34.900+08:00

Remember me to one who lives there. She once was a true love of mine. - Simon and Garfunkel As I did mention in previous posts, I owe you all an entry about the weekend trip to Corregidor that Jose and I took last year. Last year, meaning, November 15, 2008. Last year, meaning, three long months ago. As you can see, the subject matter has lain inert too long, enough so that I should have

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-41154912020713593902009-01-20T19:01:00.012+08:002009-02-11T12:04:55.995+08:00

With the drive and ambition and the zeal that I feel--this is my time.- The SmithsBefore I hie off for my first solo evening run of the year, I want to say that I'm not sure if changing my blog template was the right move. On one hand, the old design was mine, and there will be none other like it, only because I had labored over it myself until my ears bled HTML and the color codes spoke to me

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-15436662857272379602008-11-02T16:31:00.019+08:002009-02-22T01:44:30.116+08:00

I've come to wish you an unhappy birthday,because you're evil, and you lie.- The SmithsWarning: This post contains excessive profanity and unhampered name-calling.As you may well know by now, the Philippine government is overrun by the most reprehensible of characters: these are folks who won't think twice about squirreling away the people's funds, dickheads who believe that their role in the

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-77042090905564915742008-10-28T01:29:00.009+08:002009-02-11T12:07:15.665+08:00

Stretch out and wait, stretch out and wait.There is no debate, no debate, no debate.How can you consciously contemplateWhen there's no debate, no debate?- The SmithsNumber One:For the most part, I'm severely tempted to just stop updating this blog. In the last couple of months, I've slid into a new weekly rhythm that won't permit me the luxury of filling this place with entries. The problem,

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-68727019922986428462008-09-15T20:22:00.011+08:002009-02-11T12:07:51.593+08:00

We can go for a walk where it's quiet and dryAnd talk about precious things- The SmithsLet's say my voice is okay. All right? Let's say it's okay enough so I can sing for a mediocre rock band and get a few voice-over gigs punted my way. It's solid enough so it doesn't crack while I'm talking in mid-sentence, the way it does for some unfortunate guys, who, when they're ordering from McDonald's,

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-29345215501456749622008-09-02T21:51:00.026+08:002009-02-11T12:12:33.488+08:00

It all began early on in the 20th century, in 1938, in the unassuming municipality of La Castellana, Negros Occidental. In a number of years, the Japanese would have come thundering in with their bayonets, their keening planes, and their intractable appetite for destruction. But the year is 1938, and the townsfolk won't recognize the auguries of discord until much later.It's also safe to assume

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-13352030083726665312008-08-31T16:10:00.009+08:002009-03-19T06:49:25.988+08:00

Oh, look at those clothes,Now look at that face,It's so old.- MorrisseyLast Thursday, walking down Emerald Avenue in a half-stupor, my belly full of french fries and soda, I happened upon Margie as she was about to cross the street. Of course, I didn't know it was Margie when I first saw her, given my bad eyes and the fact that the early afternoon sun had whitewashed all of the world.Despite the

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-6472584683653973912008-08-23T03:09:00.010+08:002009-02-11T12:09:07.735+08:00

You look so tired, unhappy.Bring down the government.They don't speak for us.- RadioheadI've been meaning to talk about so many things in the last month or so, but my time has been sequestered by all sorts of shit, with work being the most unpalatable of them all. Yeah yeah yeah, I know it isn’t smart to talk about work in as public a place as your own blog, but I pretty much don't give a damn

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-57805312269882144262008-08-13T11:10:00.006+08:002009-02-11T12:09:21.607+08:00

Humpty DumptyAimee MannSay you were split, you were split in fragments,And none of the pieces will talk to you.Wouldn't you want to be who you had been?Well, baby, I want that, too.So better take the keys and drive forever,Staying won't put these futures back together.All the perfect trust and superheroesWouldn't be enough to bring me up to zero.Baby you're great, you've been more than patient,

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-67942119621185487652008-08-12T12:18:00.012+08:002009-02-11T12:09:45.319+08:00

One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do.Two can be as bad as one, it's the loneliest numberSince the number one.- Aimee MannA massive HURRAH to my friends, Kael and Marie, both of whom are some of this year's winners for the Palanca awards. Kael was last year's first place winner for English Poetry, and he bags the first prize again this year, albeit for Filipino Poetry this time around.

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-25592047877723494292008-08-04T13:24:00.012+08:002009-02-22T01:48:23.192+08:00

KnowledgeHiking that day, we descended from the peakto our third campsite, all fog and chilland hardy fern. There was no room for us,but we made room anyway, tamping downthe shrubbery standing in our path.What else was here but endless foliageand blinding height, or all the thingswe couldn't see -- the icy wind knifingthrough our skin, the leaves' tireless sough,a heart's hammering for the

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-21473619963979816832008-07-10T20:31:00.003+08:002009-02-11T12:10:50.987+08:00

You're celebrating nothing,And you feel a-okay.- FilterSince taking on extra work, I've felt the way stewed tomatoes must feel like: pulpy, smashed up, acerbic, and ready to serve in a bowl to a family of four. It's also been pretty difficult to maintain full consciousness throughout the workday, especially since that workday happens to begin at 2:30 in the morning and ends at around 9 to 11 in

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-8373392569520404192008-06-27T12:35:00.005+08:002011-06-23T23:36:12.406+08:00

Now if the sweater has, like, reindeer on it Or is a funny color like yellow, I’m sorry, You can’t get away with a sweater like that. Look for brown, or gray, or blue. Anything other than that and you know You’re dealing with someone who’s different. And different is not what you’re looking for. - Meryn Cadell Or maybe different was what you were looking for! Why else would you climb so

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-63901728325458647472008-06-23T23:23:00.004+08:002011-06-23T23:16:09.597+08:00

Sunny, send at least one thoughtful letter, My heart goes out to you. Tell us all how things are so much better -- My heart, it left with you. What else can I do? - Morrissey News like this can pummel us and kick us right in the shins, but we'll never believe that any of it is real, even as the fact of it flashes white in our faces. You can't leave just like that, you know? I don't want to

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6331448881518333264.post-42778225882542629212008-06-18T12:56:00.005+08:002009-02-11T12:12:04.935+08:00

But I'm going to meet the one I love,At last, at last, at last!!Because I'm going to meet the one I love,La dee da, la dee da, oh, mama, let me go!- The SmithsOne:If you have been tracking the progress of Gimme That Donut, a blog that (quite honestly) has done an enormous injustice to the word "progress", you would know that it has abandoned both its old address and all its entries previous to

Peachyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09880305487899983473noreply@blogger.com8