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STRIPES & POLKA DOTS |
Shapes and colors make me happy. I like abstract paintings. I like Picasso. I like solid colors - blue, red, yellow, green and orange. Sometimes I like neon. I like geometric lines and shapes. I'm particularly fascinated with squares. Not so much with waves and unclosed curves. I don't like Baroque-inspired designs. I don't like paintings of the Madonna and Child, farmers in the field, flowers in vases, and fruits in baskets. They hurt my eyes.
 Name::xam From::Metro Manila, Philippines i'm a pirate at heart. i'm smart, ruthless and greedy. yesterday i navigated the seas and my comrades died in battle. today i am trapped in davy jones' locker. but tomorrow i will find gold, i will be free and i will roam the seas again. Learn more about Sam
"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge That myth is more potent than history. I believe that dreams are more powerful than facts - That laughter is the only cure for grief. And I believe that love is stronger than death." ~Robert Fulghum, It Was On Fire When I Laid Down On It **** You Belong to Me See the pyramids around the Nile Watch the sun rise From the tropic isle Just remember darling All the while You belong to me See the market place In old Algiers Send me photographs and souvenirs Just remember When a dream appears You belong to me And I'll be so alone without you Maybe you'll be lonesome too Fly the ocean In a silver plane See the jungle When it's wet with rain Just remember till You're home again You belong to me Oh I'll be so alone without you Maybe you'll be lonesome too Fly the ocean In a silver plane See the jungle When it's wet with rain Just remember till You're home again You belong to me **** What's Up Twenty - five years and my life is still Trying to get up that great big hill of hope For a destination And I realized quickly when I knew I should That the world was made up of this brotherhood of man For whatever that means And so I cry sometimes When I'm lying in bed Just to get it all out What's in my head And I am feeling a little peculiar And so I wake in the morning And I step outside And I take a deep breath and I get real high And I scream at the top of my lungs What's going on? And I say, hey hey hey hey I said hey, what's going on? Ooh, ooh ooh And I try, oh my god do I try I try all the time, in this institution And I pray, oh my god do I pray I pray every single day For a revolution And so I cry sometimes When I'm lying in bed Just to get it all out What's in my head And I am feeling a little peculiar And so I wake in the morning And I step outside And I take a deep breath and I get real high And I scream at the top of my lungs What's going on? And I say, hey hey hey hey I said hey, what's going on? Twenty - five years and my life is still Trying to get up that great big hill of hope For a destination
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It’s amazing how the mind and heart changes in a snap. How we don’t know a thing about anyone or anything and wake up one day to believe that you somehow can’t go on with your life without it. How we feel so fervently about it and then wake up, again, one day to something totally different (don’t even realize it sometimes). Again. And again. 
That’s how it is – we live with it, loving it, and then leaving it. And that’s how we change.
In between then and now, I’ve fallen in and out of love with… rollerskating, telebabad, sign language, girl scouting, volleyball, Archie Andrews, Sesame Street, patintero, wintertime, Baby’s Breath, hailstorms, ghost hunting, playing the guitar, sandstorms, Horoscope Comics, DocMartens, dancing, Esprit, hide-and-seek, Nancy Drew, long evening walks, sketching, silver jewelry, Robin Padilla, proms, diaries, CAT, Chips Ahoy, green, iceskating, Sweet Valley, Mariah Carey, Teddy Bears, Kenny Rogers Roasters, tie-dyed shirts, Cover Girl, Christopher Pike, shorts, ballads, MTV, Seventeen Magazines, PopSwatch, ear-piercing, Trapper Keepers, jumpers, John Grisham, Alyssa Ashley lotion, Channel V, PDI, chocolate, Blue Ice, flaired jeans, artwork shirts, Kinder Chocolate, Leonardo DiCaprio, Titanic, sunny Sundays, Antipolo, Nokia 3650, wooden flutes, body bags, floral blouses, Miller, pink, friendship bands, BA, brown sandals, GoNuts Donuts, Kalayaan, Adam Sandler, calculus, jeepney rides, Ilang, button-fly jeans, playing the piano, URC, lovesongs, Cosmopolitan, C2, Beepers, Marlboro Lights Menthol, Tazmanian Devil, rainy days, red, SM North, blowdrying, Minesweeper, capri pants, jackets, Harry Potter, cargo pants, UP Fair, night-long gimmicks, loafers, plaid shirts, driving lessons, fancy earrings, Padis Point, McDonalds, Fine Arts, UP Bliss, ukay-ukay, weight training, joyriding, sociology, and PEOPLE --- so many people… I’m sure I’ve forgotten half of the things and people that I used to love.
I get a chance every now and then to do some reminiscing and what I get is a mixed feeling. Nostalgia, for remembering that once upon a time I cared. (No, I never felt again what I used to feel exactly, much like the song you know? I remember the boy… But I don’t remember the feeling anymore… Cliché, yes. But clichés are said over and over only because they’re fundamentally true.)
See, I’m not a “what-if” person. There are people like that. I’m an “I-can’t-believe-I-used-to” person, know what I mean? Not that the “used-to” thing or person is anything bad … I just can’t believe it really used to exist, and now it’s really gone. But you know, there are evidences and witnesses and you have your memories to prove that it really existed at all. Thing is, I can’t feel any connection to it and I wonder if it really was real, because it certainly doesn’t feel real anymore because after all, it isn’t real anymore. Am I making sense? I don’t know.
I’m scared and I’m excited. This will never end. Even now, I’m metarmorphosing, constantly shedding off skin and then renewing it. Or could it be that I’m dying all the time and being born all over again all the time? I can’t imagine what kind of a person I’ll be fifty years from now (if im still alive by then). A totally different person, but yes, still me. And I’ll remember e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. Creepy. Really creepy.
