My heaven

Everybody has its nest-a cocoon where your mind flies carefree and wild. Worldly heaven, that is. Mine is the comfort room along with the bookstore and the airline terminal. In my heaven, i am deaf and time rarely exists. It is my heaven- an uncrowded heaven.

Catcher in the rye

It is a classic novel about the love-hate view of man on life, where Holden Caulfield, the lead, says and thinks of all the bad things in the world but says and does the other way - the good way. Gloriafic, ey. It is a novel that constantly remind us of our social contract to do good to others despite being overly possessed by our vicious nature: dark, wild, carnal, nomad and self-centered. Most of us are but not in my circle, as i currently see it or maybe the people i know are still boiling their dark side, ready to spill out the heater.

Such viciousness is inescapable because in the pursuit of reaching ones potentials, we do face ego inflation and spiritual narcissism, as a ripple effect of ego trips for recognition and gratification. Look at Lucifer. But when we are bounded of the social contract, our personal journey becomes spiritual. That is why seekers, like the Mevlevi dervishes from Turkey, need spiritual guides to deflate any inflation. To end almost perfect or at least alive, we act our truest self (our potentials) within that contract. It is hard, you would agree, but it is vital. The people we live with guide us not to be derailed in becoming vicious.

Ever tried saying "glad to meet you" to somebody when you are not at all glad? It is not kasipsipan or kaplastikan, it is telling you, you are good and human. And this is the message J.D. Salinger is relaying. Same true with Renee Descartes (or some other guy), "man is basically good".

Sign-in, if you are for peace

Was never in a fight, where you exchange fists. Not even a sissy word war. I only had punched someone twice in my entire life. One in grade 4. Last was junior year, when my classmate teasingly didnt hand my takyan. I was furious, i gave him a quick nose punch. ye! I had a good throw on him. His nose bled and I wasn't even terrified because simply i know some friends would always take my enemy's return punch.

It had always been like that because I am the smallest in the class. My tall friends would always protect and would call the fights for me. I learned it first when they pushed me to accept a fight in grade 4. They instructed me to give the first punch then they'll instantly split us so my enemy won't have a chance of boxing back. Wicked plan, ayt. But when the other boy insists on, my tall friends would then challenge him for a fair fight because hitting a small guy - that's me! - is lamely gay. "Choose your own size," my tall friends would always say.

From then on, i got my private army but never a head bloated with air.

That band of brothers who stood in the frontline to defend, protect and challenge any violent adversaries had an other adverse effect aside from nobody daring to fight with me: I became peace-loving.

Peace became my comfort zone. I stopped seeking stupid fights. I do away from fight clubs and resolve conflicts immediately, as possible. When friends are in conflict, I always go in-between to resolve the harsh exchanges....that is if they are willing to listen. But when they dont, i dont simply give a damn. Instead, id even encourage a brawl. Easier said than done. I still ended up giving a damn and no brawls among my friends were recorded by my pentium 1 memory.

I dont have my private army anymore to clean up any mess that my other friends would make. Im still secured though because im not going into any warfare. Call me coward, too neutral, sipsip, faker, handwasher and lame. but anger is such a baggage in any way it is expressed and I AM CALLING A GRAND PEACEFUL RECONCILIATION.

A handshake/a genuine hug/light (or even hard) tap at the back/a game would do to resolve any complex conflicts.

who is up for reconciliation on 2pm, Sunday, Tionko Fields? bring and tell your friends and we'll play the friendliest game ever in history. sign-in if you are for peace and write your reconciliatory testimony and contribution here!

we may not be equally party freaks or the happiest disc community. making this GRAND RECONCILIATION happen would mark us as the Most Spirited!

Oasis - Mandarin Oriental

Fine. My guilty pleasure is the overflowing joy on living a rare high life. Fine dining is one.

The frill is not though in the culinary savory but on the parade of intriguing food extravaganza and the stretched patience of learning the "fine and classy" intake of those. With absolute strangeness, one is opted to relish ignorance, wait and observe.

After a series of glances on dinemates and pretense, i finally made my order. To be more like a regular diner, i changed my choice in striving english. 　
"abbey, id switched my wagyu beef cheek to russian cod fillet." it bottle have been crusted russian cod fillet with black gnocchi and basil cream. But regular diners dont make orders that way.

In truth, im zero cent of my meal. The russian cod and gnocchi made me pick it. The wagyu was more stranger but my regular-diner ploy would be at stake if i dont switch order.
So, a Ceasar salad was served first as appetizer. I know how to eat it but with an added saucepan, i was shaken up to wait and observe again. I let the waiter mixed it instead... just like a regular diner. The syrup on ripe mango shake shook me up too. But i survived. I finally have my first dinner in Oasis - Mandarin Oriental.

Being in a 5-star resto, i should not only behave like a regular but a fine diner. So, i ate less and kept a grunting stomach. I even resisted the sweetest desserts.

Every move was almost exquisite when a senior dinemate had his desserts pouched and forced me to carry it out of the resto.

Damn! Fine dining. Damn!

But heck. with candlelight, jazzy saxophonist playing all our requests, garden oasis and smart talks, fine dining still stands on its brand - fine dinner.

Ultimate Oakwood Mutiny

"loyalty, dedication, honor"

nah! not the noble words of Former Navy Lieutenant Senior Grade Antonio Trillanes IV but of Capt. Blood. any departure from those is....treacherous. and worth a yawp or more appropriate a SHOUTOUT!

i agreed somehow. so, eyebrows down.


30 August 2007.
an order was founded on an honest move to be better, spread Spirit of the Game (SOTG) and cultivate growth (not delaying and corrupting it) on a transformer scale. the new "agreed" scheme is:

• 2 teams + 2 trainings = growth
  
• 1 field + 1 game + equal contribution = spirit.

we had shady nods and zero violent disapprovals. so, team Davao Disc Squad (DDS) was born.

surprisingly, the move made Custom stamps on our foreheads by sunrise: mutineers

the move was not about cool leadership but jitteries in a vacuum and irreconcilable differences that demanded an unfavorable divorce. ye, hardheadedness and closemindedness. aren't they just too irreconcilable?

ok ok it was an ambush. we didnt consult you before the move. what for (in a kind tone)? do enlighten us because we are not Professor X neither we cant hear your playful murmurs +undertones. i am not being a brown nose here, which i have been unfairly tagged of (zip zip zip zip...), i just strongly believe, we can always have a middle ground to creatively revive the ultimate spirit.

1. we all have loyalty, dedication and honor.... to the SPIRIT OF THE GAME.
2. we both have a slap on the face after a breach of the agreed scheme. fair and square.

so, let us talk straight and resurface your real nods or violent disapprovals.

and admit it. our departure was your relief - a very good riddance of bad tomatoes. so, why yawp, when you can smile. change is good, indeed. let's play again together.

i do agree on the captain's wisdom bananas.

Art ako

When art begets you, art makes you forever even when you are not doing it. It unfolds through time.

ArtCo is in 10 years on 2008, a vision beyond our plans.

status: swinger and its really complicated

just minutes before the birds would be swinging in these wires, i woke up with a munching stomach, panting for a toilet comfort. after 20 reflective minutes, only a spray of carbon+methane was off. not bad gas, after all. so, im green guilt-free but i never went back to R.E.M. i was hunted by my quirky usual toilet retreat.

zip zip zip zip...

the thought became a ringtone to the id, resonating louder than Reznor and the Spartans. yes! i am a swinger; a fencesitter; a non-partisan; balance; a potential true-blue journalist, who never (should) takes sides; a mediator by management; a complicated middleman given a hard choice to choose.

aaaaarrrggh. such a crazy temper. but im holding it.

zip zip zip zip...

im holding it because i never had my cruel intentions of making a fight club. only choices to make; sides to take; peace to keep; and good mornings to grip.

Welcome to the club

Apart from the mostly inevitable self realization, man craves to belong. Equally murky with the former, we are forcibly binded by social contract. Though Maslow and other social thinkers had laid down the whys and whats, we remain to be inquirers of its necessity. Even deviants and non-conformists are not at all entirely themselves. They still seek social affirmation. Deviants become they are because they see deviants. Mysteriously, we form groups, play with people other than ourselves, reach out and be socially involved. o, such a tiring need!