Talking Through Static
Aang versus Pac-man
Ella and I took advantage of yesterday’s nationwide lull in Christmas commotion due to Pacquiao’s fight. While it seemed the whole world was fixated about two grown men having fisticuffs, we gloried in the almost empty malls, and the clear streets. With our combined powers, we have completed everything in our to-buy and to-do list. We even got home by 4 p.m. giving me enough time to finally finish the last 4 episodes of The Avatar (Go Aaang!)
I didn’t even know Pacquiao won until today. I guess that’s good. But I really do hope he’ll lose someday soon. You know, for his own good. Too many wins might make a champion a loser, if you catch my drift.
Geez. Something is really wrong with me. I’m rooting for a cartoon character, and couldn’t care less about a real, live champion of the people (daw). On the same vein though, Aang will never be corrupted, because he freakin’ doesn’t exist. Pacquiao is human, rendering him corruptible. Do I need to flip a coin? (Stay away from commenting if you are one of those “Let’s trust humanity, peeps.” I know your game, I’m still sometimes you)
Marky Cielo
I got the shock of my life when I learned Marky Cielo has died. And I can’t even create any sarcastic comments about it because I genuinely liked and rooted for this guy. Of course, it crossed my mind that the death might be drug-related, which would totally ruin the image I have of him inside my screwed-up head. I dread knowing what caused his death, because I think I desperately need him to be the good guy. Even if I never even met him. He was just one of those people who makes you think the world can’t be all that bad while somebody like him lives in it.
The shallow part of me wept because I was also daydreaming about marrying the guy, or at least, have a picture taken with him. The saner, wiser part of me grieves because such a promising young life was cut short. I don’t get to like masa-actors that much, so it’s really something to be this affected about a stranger’s death. I sincerely hope it wasn’t just a careless mistake. I sincerely pray he’d be in a better place. Kind of enviable, actually.
Olivia the B
I have a confession to make, I’ve been meaner than usual lately. I goad my workmates, I flip sarcasm unto them like honey on …..something that honey sticks to. I even goad my best friend at work because I know he would never ever fight back. Sa MRT, if people push me, I push back. And hello, I’m a walking pison, if I mean to be. I don’t care if may mapa-upo pa. They started it. Don’t mess with me. One time, I actually caught myself narrowing my eyes into slits because I was planning to roughly elbow the ditz who stopped dead on her tracks in a one-lane path. I have become a one-woman Mafia. I don’t know what’s happening to me. All this anger and distrust…. Eyuucch. It feels bad. But I can’t stop. I just want to hurt people, and I’ll grab what little excuse I can get to do it. I wonder who fucked me up this way? This isn’t me. But I won’t take suffering quietly anymore. I just can’t stand hurting, so I’ll hurt them too.
Talk about living on the fast lane to either Mandaluyong or Bilibid.
I’m hoping this behavior will fade by the time the holidays are over. Christmas hurts, deal with it. But if I don’t get nicer, I’ll be the first to ask for professional help, I promise.
Ella and I took advantage of yesterday’s nationwide lull in Christmas commotion due to Pacquiao’s fight. While it seemed the whole world was fixated about two grown men having fisticuffs, we gloried in the almost empty malls, and the clear streets. With our combined powers, we have completed everything in our to-buy and to-do list. We even got home by 4 p.m. giving me enough time to finally finish the last 4 episodes of The Avatar (Go Aaang!)
I didn’t even know Pacquiao won until today. I guess that’s good. But I really do hope he’ll lose someday soon. You know, for his own good. Too many wins might make a champion a loser, if you catch my drift.
Geez. Something is really wrong with me. I’m rooting for a cartoon character, and couldn’t care less about a real, live champion of the people (daw). On the same vein though, Aang will never be corrupted, because he freakin’ doesn’t exist. Pacquiao is human, rendering him corruptible. Do I need to flip a coin? (Stay away from commenting if you are one of those “Let’s trust humanity, peeps.” I know your game, I’m still sometimes you)
Marky Cielo
I got the shock of my life when I learned Marky Cielo has died. And I can’t even create any sarcastic comments about it because I genuinely liked and rooted for this guy. Of course, it crossed my mind that the death might be drug-related, which would totally ruin the image I have of him inside my screwed-up head. I dread knowing what caused his death, because I think I desperately need him to be the good guy. Even if I never even met him. He was just one of those people who makes you think the world can’t be all that bad while somebody like him lives in it.
The shallow part of me wept because I was also daydreaming about marrying the guy, or at least, have a picture taken with him. The saner, wiser part of me grieves because such a promising young life was cut short. I don’t get to like masa-actors that much, so it’s really something to be this affected about a stranger’s death. I sincerely hope it wasn’t just a careless mistake. I sincerely pray he’d be in a better place. Kind of enviable, actually.
Olivia the B
I have a confession to make, I’ve been meaner than usual lately. I goad my workmates, I flip sarcasm unto them like honey on …..something that honey sticks to. I even goad my best friend at work because I know he would never ever fight back. Sa MRT, if people push me, I push back. And hello, I’m a walking pison, if I mean to be. I don’t care if may mapa-upo pa. They started it. Don’t mess with me. One time, I actually caught myself narrowing my eyes into slits because I was planning to roughly elbow the ditz who stopped dead on her tracks in a one-lane path. I have become a one-woman Mafia. I don’t know what’s happening to me. All this anger and distrust…. Eyuucch. It feels bad. But I can’t stop. I just want to hurt people, and I’ll grab what little excuse I can get to do it. I wonder who fucked me up this way? This isn’t me. But I won’t take suffering quietly anymore. I just can’t stand hurting, so I’ll hurt them too.
Talk about living on the fast lane to either Mandaluyong or Bilibid.
I’m hoping this behavior will fade by the time the holidays are over. Christmas hurts, deal with it. But if I don’t get nicer, I’ll be the first to ask for professional help, I promise.
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