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.
I.AM.SAM
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
I've had thousands of conversations with strangers, millions of encounters.
In all these conversations and encounters, I remember only a few. I actually have memories of strangers. Or memories of acquaintances who have somehow been reduced to strangers over time.
Like the ones I snipe at. The weirdos. The headturners. Some other strangers I simply remember for no reason at all. Sometimes, I even like to tell stories about them. Here are the top three memorable strangers of my life:
(1) Manong Jeepney Driver
There is this one jeepney driver who turns 90 degrees to take a good look at his passengers when they pay up. He spends around 2 seconds staring at you and then looks back on the road.
(2) Store Assistant at Video Store
The first stranger I ever yelled at, 14 years ago. Really nasty woman.
(3) Man with the Toupee
A visitor in our house back in Saudi Arabia. Bald man. He brought along a wig and had my uncle custom-cut it for him. Never knew who he was.
I remember them, and they probably don’t remember me. Not so strange.
The stranger part is the other side of the coin. The strangers who remember me. The stories strangers tell about me. Spooky.
So that's why they're called strangers.
Posted by xam ::
Saturday, November 05, 2005 ::
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