The list of my dead rock stars.

The list topper will of course be:

Kurt Cobain who I mourned for 2 weeks; the crying only stopped 3 days after I learned of his death. He died on April 5, 1994 and the news hit us on April 14. I had to ask somebody (actually we had to think of reasons to go to the capital town) to buy a magazine for me (we call song hits)

 so I can get some news. I was 14 and rebellious and was in-love with almost all rock stars of my time. Kurt Cobain was the it and he died too soon as I only discovered his music from our little town with static-filled NU 107.9 broadcast 5 months before his death. It was too soon. Like a big heartbreak I never expected.

THEN.

Shannon Hoon, who also shockingly died in October of 1995 (October 15, to be exact) and

 gave me such fear in the future of my other rock stars. I half expected they would all start dying, one by one, annually after. But they did not. As the next death came tragically rather than shockingly, when in May 29, 1997 the lovely…

Jeff buckley was found dead in the fucking river?! Can you effing believe that? I found this so 

irrational. No, actually I found the news incredulous then they explained further…that he was drunk and maybe even high. But how high can you get? High enough not to even feel you’re drowning? Then I gave up. I don’t want any death news anymore.

Then BOOM.

It came. This…this…this news that I have been WISHING not to happen. This fear.

That…it happens. They all. When you least expect it. Like a heartbreak at your 20th birthday.

Layne Staley made the news. His decomposing body was found in his house somewhere. 

(Believed to have) Died in April 5, 2002. same date as cobain’s. his body was found 2 weeks after. Months before that there was news that he’s being closely watched by immediate families and close friends (like jerry, for one) because a recent death of a sexual partner (that’s how specific it is, really) made him quite suicidal. Then he really dies. It’s almost surreal. Like a big second heartbreak you never expected. But then I was busy with my own sexual life and breezed through his death painlessly, without tears, but little sad discussions with friends and drunken wallows in Melly’s after.

I watched Would’s video in STC with much nostalgia following that.
(but years after, I watched it in amazement and incredulity at how the bad, seemingly unwashed hair of 

these grunge guys ever magnetized my hormones)

Elliot Smith, whose death on October 23, 2003 (at least in time, but in wiki it says 

October 21) remained unaswered and unresolved but undoubtedly PAINFUL and whom I failed to  make a death anniversary post because my boss got here on the 22nd and another came on the 23rd and series of crazy things to do in the office followed. But I loved him and I continue to be mesmerized by his songs because waltz #2 helped me survive my last days in UP Manila. When I

 was on the verge of developing acute depression. But I guess they are not always meant to stay. Like out youth and our good times.

So.

Good bye.

Love song for kitoy.

Real life
Joan Wasser

I freeze my hands as i close the door
To wait in line so i can wait some more

And it's true what they say about love
Yes it's true what they say about life
And i'm taking it for all it's worth

I watch the numbers register on the postal scale
I think of your hands and calculate
How a man, desired, feels the weight of a letter

It's true what they say about me
That i'm out of my mind but i think that you like it
So take the chance,
Be reckless with me

'cause i'm real life
And you're real life
And we're real life
We're real life

Is it pleasing?
Six hundred thousand miles and all this solitude?
I know what is pleasing-
What i'll find beneath your new pair of glasses

I've never included a name in a song
But i'm changing my ways for you,
Jonathan
I need you to know,
I need you to know
That i'm real life.

chat logs of star children.

starring: rejixxx and ira_amidala

november 13 ini siguro.

(4:02:56 PM) ira_amidala rigya
(4:03:01 PM) rejixxx winner
(4:03:03 PM) ira_amidala lantawon ko pa mamayang night
(4:03:06 PM) rejixxx evan rachel wood
(4:03:07 PM) ira_amidala nighty night
(4:03:10 PM) rejixxx okay
(4:03:23 PM) rejixxx ti ma watched ka tonight ti itell mo kanakon if good ha
(4:04:11 PM) ira_amidala good kuno hambal sg pool of reviewers ko (kim and pam)
(4:06:37 PM) rejixxx huo i knew na no
(4:06:45 PM) rejixxx i read it last mga 6 months ago pa
(4:06:47 PM) rejixxx very nice
(4:07:14 PM) ira_amidala sang summer ko pa ni ginadumtan
(4:07:38 PM) ira_amidala "ang akon nga dumut nag himo nga baris" russel miole
(4:08:10 PM) rejixxx sa diin mo ina ginkuha???
(4:08:14 PM) rejixxx juice ko LORD!!!!!
(4:08:36 PM) ira_amidala u do not knew this in high school high?
(4:08:52 PM) rejixxx SUPERRR!!!
(4:08:56 PM) rejixxx even si kitoy wala sina kabalo
(4:09:02 PM) rejixxx PACKSHET that is a stroke of GENIUS
(4:09:26 PM) ira_amidala u know ds is what miole boy told mam alobba when restituto and (i think) eric baroque made kulit to him always
(4:09:45 PM) ira_amidala reply ni mam alobba: "What's baris?"
(4:09:47 PM) ira_amidala =))
(4:10:17 PM) ira_amidala winner corned beef
(4:13:33 PM) rejixxx BONGGA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(4:13:56 PM) rejixxx ay grabe
(4:13:59 PM) rejixxx can you note that down?
(4:14:04 PM) rejixxx i'll put it in my blog
(4:14:16 PM) ira_amidala ummmm....okay
(16:14:47) ira_amidala excited ka na magpuli: u have something to tell kitoy
(16:15:00) ira_amidala galg this is already a classic
(16:16:18) rejixxx bongga gid ya
(16:16:21) rejixxx winner hotdog
(16:16:22) rejixxx ever
(16:16:27) rejixxx na butang ko na
(16:16:29) ira_amidala huod huod
(16:16:43) rejixxx azzz in super gid ya daw SUPER MEGA STROKE OF GENIUS nga indi maintindihan
(16:16:50) rejixxx it made me feel really GOOOOOOOOOOOOOD
(16:16:54) ira_amidala surprise lang me kung back-kit ngayon mo lang nalaman palaman
(16:17:04) rejixxx ang akon dumut naghimo nga baris
(16:17:08) ira_amidala way back terd yir
(16:17:08) rejixxx who could ever think of that
(16:17:12) ira_amidala hay skul
(16:17:12) rejixxx in high school ha
(16:17:14) rejixxx so poetic
(16:17:20) rejixxx dapat my hiligaynon literature na gid kita
(16:17:21) rejixxx winner
(16:17:30) ira_amidala only rash-shell mee-you-ee
(16:17:38) ira_amidala mee-you-lee
(16:17:44) ira_amidala korekness
(16:18:17) rejixxx diputa daw mapatay ko di pugong kadlaw ko
(16:18:27) rejixxx i'll publish this log in my blog
(16:18:30) rejixxx with your permission
(16:18:36) rejixxx intellectual property ba
(16:21:30) ira_amidala permission granted (galg nd man ako ang ow-tor cni)
(16:23:26) rejixxx i mean at least i have to show where i got it
(16:23:33) rejixxx WINNER gid ya hotdog
(16:23:54) rejixxx only russ-sell mee-yo-lee
(16:23:55) rejixxx gid

P.S.
WELL IT TURNED OUT THAT KITOY KNEW ABOUT THE “and dumot ko nahimo nga baris” THING AND IT WAS INDEED RIZZ (TITUTO) BARIZZ WHO BULLIED RUSSEL TO THE POINT OF THAT “stroke of genius”.
AND IT SEEMED I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT IT. WELL, WHAT CAN I SAY. I’M A LATE MELLY’S KID BLOOMER. AND I REGRET IT TRULY.

P.P.S.
REALLY, NOW.

kadlaw ta anay.

T R A C K   L I S T   O F

A N     A I R  S U P P L Y  G R E A T E S T   H I T S   C O M P I L A T I O N   

I N   A N    A L T E R N A T E     U N I V E R S E 

W H E R E     T H E     C O N C E P T    O F  

"L O V E"

I S   E X P R E S S E D   B Y   T H E   W O R D S

P A R T I A L L Y   H Y D R O G E N A T E D C O R N   S Y R U P

BY CHARLES ULLMANN

- - - -
The Power of Partially Hydrogenated Corn Syrup
I've Got Your Partially Hydrogenated Corn Syrup
Lost in Partially Hydrogenated Corn Syrup
Keeping the Partially Hydrogenated Corn Syrup Alive
Making Partially Hydrogenated Corn Syrup Out of Nothing at All
So Much Partially Hydrogenated Corn Syrup
Put Partially Hydrogenated Corn Syrup in Your Life
Time for Partially Hydrogenated Corn Syrup
Give Me Partially Hydrogenated Corn Syrup

this was from timothymcsweeney.net (or com???). one of the funniest e-zines on earth. 

there. 

yes yes yes

o, para sa mga graduates sang UP nga POOR in intellect and skills and remain poor in intellect and skills this is...asin sa pilas...or how do they call that in english: rubbing salt to the open (the bone and the marrow showing and all the gory torn muscles), bleeding wound.

....Now what about us? We all agree that our education pipeline is poorly
constructed to begin with, and being at the other end of the pipeline, there
is little we can do to clean out the rot or remove the rust or deepen the
pipeline. But even in UP, higher education has become increasingly remedial
not just at the level of incoming freshmen, who experienced the XDS program
in the late '70s and early '80s, and summer bridge programs in the '90s, but
also juniors and seniors who do not possess or are not adequately being
prepared for 21st century competencies. Yet, they enter the world with our
diploma..."  (daw kaladlukan pero WINNER)

kay maria serena diokno na kuno according man sa nag post sa amon nga UP High groups site. 

so sa mga taga-UP nga puro lang dakdak pero di man kabalo mag ubra paper. PAGHIPOS. 

WINNER.

thoughts to ponder.

some planning stuffs that i have been reading which i took from my boss' blog which i think is a good stuff to think about especially in our infrstructure crazed third world mindset.

we think it's just good to have all these flyovers and wide roads

 and a

 lot of 

signs everywhere alienating the people more and making it much more difficult to go to melly's to take the 5:thirsty drinking sessions which expectedly end at 8:00 PM with ****tya mels*** bugging us to get out of Melly's now because her husband is sick and needs to rest and thus all drunkards like us must go home now now now -- but not without 

paying first for our case of beer and safari or happy nuts or mr. chips. so 

we collect our things and rummaged through empty wrappers of the junkies and cracked shells of balot.

so that's it. 

think. think. think.

”If there was one more lane, would that eliminate the traffic jam or simply increase the number of drivers who used the road?”

gogol notes 3

17 november 2008

Dear tatay,

Late yesterday afternoon nanay, kika mao and I went to CPU because nanay said I should have some time outdoors. Kika mao wanted to attend the Baptist church service in her university. She decided to accompany us for a while because her friends were still busy with DOTA. I asked nanay to carry me all the way from our house to the acad oval – I don’t know how they call it there, tatay but it’s like the acad oval in diliman, although much much much smaller. Then just before we got to the oval I went down to run run run because I was seeing a really wide space and got so excited. When we got to the oval I ran to the football field. I had to squat to touch the silt from Typhoon Frank to feel that it’s real. I am touching sand and silt and dirt…the kind that we don’t have back in our apartment. Then I ran some more and there were the grasses already. So I squatted again to pluck some grasses to see if they were really real. I ran in circles, I ran all over the place, left and right to the scrawny dog of the other picnickers but nanay stopped me. She said the dog does not know me well and might bite me. But I insisted, so she carried me again and put me somewhere else. Like a chess piece. Nanay is clever. 

I did not run after the dog anymore. It was too far for my small legs. Then I saw the group playing with a ball. Then I wanted to play with them too. I think they were the same group with the dog. There were the 3 children and their mother and their father and some more adults. The small kid cried because he couldn’t have his time with the ball. The bigger kids had them. it was a volleyball but they used it like a football. but it doesn't matter as long as it can bounce and can be kicked!

Kika mao told nanay I should be brought there every Sunday. Nanay said we will bring our small ball next time so I can throw it up up up in the sky to fly with the birdies and the airplane that I saw flying together with the birds and the bats. When you come home for christmas tatay we will play there and you can help me throw the ball. Because I think you are stronger and you can throw the ball higher than the flying birds. But hit no bird!!! Because birds are our friends. :D

I hope in christmas I will be well enough to run. You think so, tatay?

I have colds. I have runny nose. Nanay brought with her my hanky. She wiped the snot from my nose every now and then.

Then in the morning tatay I asked nanay to play in the driveway. I did not wear any shorts. But my shirt was long enough to cover my pisot. Because my cars shoes is lost nanay made me wear the osh kosh. Nanay tried the rubber slippers but I can’t stand the band and if I don’t use the band they can’t stay on my feet for long. Maybe my feet don’t like them? because the cars and the nike shoes and the osh kosh stay. So I wore the osh kosh. Then I ran and ran and ran along the driveway. Sometimes with my head up high like that. Then after a while I had so much sweat so nanay took some cloth diapers to put on my back. kika mao said I should keep my back dry all the time or I’ll get pneumonia. What is pneumonia tatay? Is it like a cake? Or ice cream?

Nanay and I went ahead. Kika mao stayed for the service. It was already dark when we went home. It was only 5:45 but already dark. Nanay told me I am getting heavier each day. Maybe I am becoming big boy very fast. Maybe when we visit you in December, tatay, I will be bigger than you and you have to look up when you talk to me. That will be very funny. But I still want to be small boy so you can carry me all the time and put me on your lap while we listen to lala and locomotion and see pictures of myself on picasa.

Nanay said maybe I will visit the doctor today. Manang nening will bring me because nanay can’t take time off from her work. I will write you again tonight so you will know what the doctor said.

You take you vitamins every day tatay so your nose will not go runny like mine. And won’t have cough like mine.

Flying kisses,

Gogol

gogol' s notes 2

10 November 2008

 

Dear Tatay,

Lola is here today. She brought me grapes so I ate a lot of it. When nanay came home, I met her on the driveway. I was running because kika mao was chasing me.

 

My cars shoes is still lost. I don’t know where they are. Nanay can’t find them. manang nening also can’t find them. I don’t know who took them. it was a gift from lola ninfa. How could I have lost them. nanay has been bugging manang nening about it because she remembered my nike shirt that have mysteriously disappeared also.

 

Last Sunday we went marketing in the morning, tatay. Nanay and kika mao and I went first to Paa and we bought pandesal along the highway because there were no more pandesal inside paa’s store. I ate while nanay carried me. Then we went to Jaro market to buy vegetables and chicken. Nanay bought me ginging, the one that we put to cook with rice. Then we went to sm jaro. Nanay put me inside the cart and put in cooking oil, lucky me noodles, cheeze rings, barbeque marinade, tawge, fita bread and zonrox. I love going to sm jaro. Before you left we had good times at sm jaro. You push the cart with me in it and nanay throws things inside. Then I am a happy kid because I have so many things inside the cart with me. But nanay got sick last Sunday. We just slept and slept last Sunday after sm jaro  because nanay was very tired. She cooked us chicken with potatoes and bananas though. I loved it.

 

Nanay. Lola, lolo and kika mao said we will visit you on December. Lola said your room is nice. And also big. Lola said she asked you to buy tables but nanay said you are still waiting for you pay because you can’t spend so much of your money. Nanay said I have to get really fat and strong by December. Lola said kika pingping said maybe you should not buy tables because she might give you one.

 

Nanay always calls you when I am asleep already. Why is that? I have been telling nanay I want lala and locomotion but she forced me to sleep without them. nanay does not really like to play them. why? Maybe she becomes sad also.

 

I’ll be going to sleep now tatay. Please take care of yourself always. You have to look strong and fine in December also. When I come to visit. I love you!!

 

Flying kiss and hugs!

 

Gogol Bagol

gogol's notes

05 November 2008

 

Dear tatay,

 

We will really see you in December. Lolo told me we are going to visit you. I am excited. I will show you my new broom broom tricks and the body parts that I know. Nanay said she sent the package. Nanay said she enclosed my letter in the package. Did you read it tatay? I will write letters to you. Many letters so you will not get lonely there. And nanay also said so.

Nanay also said some African guy won the us elections.

Today I was a good boy. I did not cry and nag nanay all the time. We had fishy for dinner. Nanay and kiko dinot went to jaro market for the week’s supply. They bought bananas for me. it was still green but it is okay. I will just wait.

It’s sad waking up without your locomotion.

I saw marian just before dinner. I gave high five and flying kiss and a real kiss and I even touched her belly to see if hers is as big as mine. Renz is not around. They said he was admitted to the hospital. So you take care of yourself tatay. So you will not end up in hospital like renz.

 

 

Love always,

 

Gogol Bagol

alfredo b. diaz

You weirdo. Because.

I jumped from the jeepney 500 meters from home. Because you were walking down the street.

Then I grinned from ear to ear. Because it has been a long long time.

(where were you???)

But you dismissed me. I prod on and on.

And one and on.

I pushed you with glee on the curbed before I turned to my street. Because I just wanted to.

You fell off the curb. Thanking me for getting off. Because, MAYBE, you wanted to.

So I walked home grinning and grinning. 

old notes 2

28 march 2005 (yudi may year na siya!!!)

( Written last year. Somewhere I can’t remember.)

 

This notebook smells of old memories and dried flowers and dried tears and things that want to keep on coming back, forcing their way into the “fast recall” box of my brains.

 

This notebook smells of the gaddam grasses in bacolod. Of loneliness and alienation in cebu. Of familiarity in sipalay. And the romanticism, sadness, desperation and nostalgia in miag-ao.

 

I wish I could take them all back because yesterday they all came back on the way home in an ultramegafast jeepney to the city. (my hair flying everywhere.)

 

I was so reluctant for all of this to end.  Because I was always never prepared for the ending. The finale. Grand or not. For the times when we all had to pack…for the nth time…and head home, in early evening, tired, cold and hungry but didn’t want it all to end, arrive late at night crying from nostalgia.

 

Oh.

 

I really don’t want it to end. I do not want to be in front of the computer and listen to sponge and elliot smith and ash and stabbing westward break my heart. (such a lousy selection, but you have to live with it.)

 

I miss you and I miss you more and more the more and more I do it. Repeatedly. Never ending. I miss all the faces. They all now look oh so familiar. Even your voices. Even the smell of sweat and your dirty laundry and the way you puffed your cigarette. The taste of the coffee that you take. The way you hesitantly kissed me that night. And the way I hesitantly kissed back only to realize it’s just too impossible.

 

Packshet.

 

I have to go home. 

old notes.

07 June

(can you believe I don’t put year in my dates? now i can't remember what year this was written.)

 

It’s 3am, I’m on my way to the bus station for a 3-hour trip home. We passed by the 24-hour convenience stop of a gas station…

…I stopped the car and told the driver I’m stopping by the shop – I’m till here. And off the driver goes.

 

24-hour shops are Disneyland to me. Their neon signs are colorful. They always attract my eyes. They have glass walls. I could see through the insides – stalls of potato chips, deli counters, freezer and fridge for cold drinks. They magnetize my senses; make me want to come in and soak in all the nostalgia they offer. 

24-hour shops are queens of the nights. When all the lights have gone out, they’re the only ones that remain standing and vibrant. 

It’s like HOPE in a package. *****(PUTA, kanami sang linya ko nga ni! Genius gid!)***** it’s like the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s like 1am in Malate, I’m out of cigarettes and treading the 300-meter lane to Pick and Pack, passing by the Indian store – where blue seal Marlboro Menthol are sold at not a blue seal price, the Japanese fine dining restaurant, Chinese soup shop, Spanish disco house (but Bogota, I don’t think is Spanish—I learned later it’s the Pegasus of Malate), Pan Pacific hotel and dozens of parked cars. It’s like 1am at Welcome Rotonda, just coming out from a Burger King coffee marathon (8 cups in less than 3 hours, at 12 pesos per cup – fucken beat that!) saying these are the Seinfeld days of our lives. It’s like 5am in Malate, waking up from a bad bad dream and wanting to kill myself but ending at Pick and Pack with potato chips, instant Chinese noodles, beer and cigarettes in my hands. It’s like Saturday nights alone in my room in Malate staring at the big R neon logo of the mall a block from our house. It’s Zoloft. It’s like you.

 

It’s like me making this up because I didn’t actually stop by the convenience store. I went straight to the bus station to catch the 1^st trip home. 

I want to catch the sunrise and the fog in the mountains. 

****** ******* ********

i need to acknowledge the pictures here. they are images of the paintings of my favorite painter, Edward Hopper. the first one is Nighthawks and the second one is Automat. Automat reminds me of Franny, the sister of Zooey. I don't know why. That's how it felt to me the first time i saw it. 

muni muni sa jeep

Somebody yells to the driver of the jeepney I’m riding on that there are lto agents in the next block. They are apprehending erring drivers, especially those who do not follow their simple regulations, ie, wearing of shoes when driving. Quickly, the driver grabs his pair of shoes from under his seat and puts them on. The passenger on the passenger seat next to him helped him reach for them while he carefully puts on the shoes and maneuver the jeepney at the same time.

It’s funny if you come to think of it.

Although it may be a necessary procedure, the wearing of shoes, but the concept is so western and perhaps impractical to our Filipino drivers that they end up with little or no compliance at all.

I think what all these policy makers should do is look into these drivers’ cultural inclinations…or something to that effect then maybe they could then pass a policy that is more attuned and therefore make the drivers more compliant.
I get the jeepney and off and get ready for the battery of work.

Listening to joan wasser and feeling even lonelier.

Now that feels like Sunday morning, heady from the lack of sleep and lack of alcohol but too much smoke. The street half empty or maybe it was half full from last night’s. the hooker is walking along the deserted street with a crumpled paper fluttering gracefully, an inch or two from the gray concrete road leading to the loneliest place you could ever imagine.

Don’t you think joan wasser is such a fucking genius? How could she have captured how it feels to be lonely 12 long years ago?

All I can remember now is roces avenue. And wendy, george, bj, mad, ferdie and that gay column writer from across bj’s table. And yeng and her kids. and Camille. And apat. And their place somewhere in sta. ana if I’m not mistaken where we played uno cards until 5 am. I played and laughed and laughed and enjoyed well. They too played and played and laughed just I did but did some more. They smoked maryjanes and when mad was about to hand me some bj tells him it’s not for 18 year olds and asked me if I was really 18. maybe I was 17 that time. 17 and lonely. So I smile and say papa bj's rules will now prevail. But wait when I’m 18. And donna. I remember donna. How can I forget. She was my housemate.

I couldn’t count the times I cried in my sleep. I have probably written about every single thing that comes to my mind for the lack of confidante or a person to converse with. who could emphatize. and talk for the hell of it. Roces avenue was my weekend treat but weekend treats seldom come to my depressing university life. My parents want me to go to med school. I’m desperately wanting to get away from it all, thinking of killing myself because the 5.0 in math 17 would surely end me up in no med school. i ended up finishing math 34.

Smoking was the answer. Because beer was so fucking expensive in malate.

i rouse from sleep at 1 am. I don’t know what to do. I have studied but can’t remember anything. I run to the nearest 24 hour convenience store to buy 3 packs of cigarette.

What the hell was I thinking.

do you know?

I lingered in the receiving area. Thought of my frozen yogurt. the lizards were crawling on the beige walls of our old spanish house. the shiny floor was cold. 

At 2 am, I was in our receiving area smoking to death and eating frozen yogurt.

And wanting to believe nothing is terribly wrong with me.

At 530am I’ve smoked 10 sticks and felt horrible.

Everyone was just waking up. The garbage truck was ringing its bell.

Gaddamit.

I still can’t remember the pointers. At 6am I forced myself to a cheese, tomato, lettuce wheat sandwich because I’m a fucking vegetarian who wants to die of lung cancer.

I don’t think anybody should ever go through this situation.

Nobody should.

Nobody should.