STRIPES & POLKA DOTS

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

hehehe

swit swat

poor me, not well-travelled

dahil matagal na tigang ang blog ko

WANTED DESPERATELY: HOUSEMATES

my multiplication table

wench

myu

"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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Wednesday, July 04, 2007
on writing

i always make up phrases in my head. i like ironies. sometimes i'm almost convinced i'm funny - when i think about the jokes i whip up in my head. sometimes i write poetry in my head. most of the time though, these thoughts stay in my head, and i forget them when the moment passes.

years ago, when i was in college, i used to take joyrides in the up ikot jeepney. just one round and i'm okay for the day. i recall i walked around a bit first - watching how the acacia trees around the sunken garden are intertwined, but never overlapping. i'd watch couples and imagine i can hear them talking, filling in the inaudible lines to entertain myself. back then i never smoked while walking. so once in a while i'd stop and sit under a tree and take a puff. then i'd walk over to the nearest shed and take the jeep. that's when i saw even more. after going back to the dorm, i'd lie in bed, listen to "chorus girl" and later in the night, tap away in my pc while my roommates slept.

i stopped writing since then, and i started again when i was in cagayan de oro two years ago. whether it's an addiction or a need, or maybe both, i just couldn't stop writing then. sometimes i wrote for the sake of writing, not really saying anything. there in cagayan de oro, in the middle of a coffee shop while listening to live music, or at a nearby internet cafe, until the wee hours of the morning i wrote my heart out -- everyday i tried to write what i wanted to say, but each time it was never enough.

when i returned to manila, i stopped again. i've already decided that i write only when there is nothing else to do. that it's really only a reaction to the absence of a sounding bag. that maybe it really isn't a necessary part of me. so for several months i buried myself in law books and cases, while i continued to make up phrases in my head - usually in the form of a Murphy's Law kind of joke.

but here i am again.

i'm writing even if i'm not really saying anything. i'm writing about writing. i look around and suddenly, everything feels poetic. maybe i'm influened by enuh's romanticization of everything and anything. maybe it's my new schedule - long weekdays :)

or maybe.. i am writing because once more, i need to.

Posted by xam :: Wednesday, July 04, 2007 :: 2 Comments:

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