It’s The Little Things

Last night I hardly slept. I should have, you know, snored halfway to valhalla, if we  factor in the copious amounts of brandy I had in my system (I came from regular  hangout with friends from way back and needless to say, alcohol and food is a  staple in those parts). Not that I am complaining, I didn’t spend anything. And  these friends know that. These are the same friends that held my hand when I was  about to break from the endless deluge of rejected job applications and failed  business deals. It’s these small handshakes, the little pat on the back that assures  me they have my back. Even a brother whom I bothered too often about my  financial predicaments suddenly sent help, and in the most timely manner,  because I am really going for the loanshark at this time, which my Mayor Street
friends discouraged.

So, short bursts of sleep, and series of graphic books in the works, a life saving  rescue by my brother, and the unflinching loyalty of friends, what else is there to  be thankful for?

It’s the little things.

  • Those free Uni Ball Eye pens that went with my purchase of three felt-tip pens at National Bookstore. I was looking for drawing ink but bought a 03, 06 and 08 Uni Pen and didn’t realize till I was home that the freebies were put in my bag.
  • Books and audiobooks.
  • Pares and Mami carts that provide delicious sustenance for the thrift. The chili and fried garlic added liberally makes it better.
  • Gigabytes of data riding tiny USB flashdrives. The 80s saw a Chess Grandmaster square off with Big Blue, a machine that was powered by 1Gb of data that was stored in something as big as a house. Nowadays you could carry the data you need 32 times over on a thumb drive.
  • Coffee. No buts about it.
  • Street corner laundry service. Even if I try to do my ow washing, sometimes it’s better to have them done, just because I have nowhere to hang the laundry to dry in my current inhabited space.
  • Mp3. Digital music. Yes, I long to hear music the way it should be heard, on vinyl, on a phonograph, with the amp and speakers tuned through an extensive equalizer set up and played loud. But I need a home to do that, and in this city living, Mp3 is my saviour. I could write and draw continuously with my favorites playing in the background.
  • Mall comfort rooms. Don’t ask.
  • Analog mobile phones. Smirk at the idea, but the way I see people griping about battery life and lugging extra powerbanks just so they can browse continuously, I go for the bar phone that lasts a week with a single charge. And don’t get me started about android updates, nor iPhone upgrades.
  • Twitter. And no, not for reasons most people think.
  • Internet connection. However shitty the service is, still something to be thankful about.
  • Blogging. Not for fame, nor profit, but for my sanity.
  • Wix!
  • Technology in general. Most people take this for granted but growing up with less, access to modern technology is still a joy to behold.
  • Movies. In data format. I could marathon The Hobbit and Lord of The Rings as often as I want. And all the films I want to seeover and over.
  • My landlady. Her kind heart let me stay even if I can hardly pay the rent. She understands, bless her.

And we could go on and on about the little things that make life worth going through each day, but go list your own.

Trudge

After a while, I get to thinking all that has come to pass. I get this way when I walk. A sort of locomotive thought unable to stop once the resolve to just take the stride and the feet kept switching places before one another, towards any destination I have in mind.

  • This or maybe I just don’t have enough money for a bus fare. Which work both ways since at these times I do a lot of pondering.

Like turning your head from whence you came but moving forward:

The love and affection, freely given,

  • This often starts then whole thought engine revving.

The songs sung with wanton sincerity,

The capturing of life and ideas into detailed ink depictions on paper,

  • Of course I have decided on this long ago but took some time taking off, what, with all the financial inadequacies that has befallen my so-called artistic career.

The hurt sustained by those we love,

The pain we gained from those we loved,

  • Truth is, up until now I still think I was adopted, even with all the evident hereditary characteristics present in me as by my siblings, still I feel very different from my brothers. I even feel that I share a kind of Thor-Loki relationship with one, but I’m not sure which one- the brute or the prankster.

The trust professed and destroyed,

All the trappings of a feeling human whom we pictured ourselves to be, those whose beliefs in a higher power, whom we are supposed to follow without questions, but whose wrath may soon come upon us in fiery brimstone and searing horror. The sainthood our forbears tried to instill on our childish minds, feeble thoughts of tne afterlife may be a reward for our suffering…

  • And the idea of worshipping a wrathful, vengeful godhead is absurd. If that is true, then by no means the devil is much more agreeable.

Yet…

We suffer for our passion, we suffer for our art. Continue reading

Tell Me A Lie So I Can Believe

 

Ang-Tagailog-At-Si-Mapolan-Dian-Masalanta

The Diwata Mapolan Dian Masalanta [Mariang Makiling] and Tagailog went separate ways without closure…

Turn out the light, our story is ending
We wore this thing so far down I can’t tell what I’m talking about
Take what you want, this old love is empty
And I don’t have anything here that I can’t live without
You say your spirits gone, I can’t say that your wrong
Oh, I know we tried, we came into it strong
Maybe we stayed in too long, woman, let’s say goodbye
Tell me a lie so I can believe
There’s more than this moment to moment passing us by
Look in my eyes and I’ll know it’s over
And I will go on from right here with the rest of my life
You say your spirits gone, I can’t say that your wrong
Oh, I know we tried, we came into it strong
Maybe we stayed in too long, woman, let’s say goodbye
I can take a loss I will move on, say goodbye, yeah, ooh
Let’s say goodbye
Oh, you said that I will never leave you
I said, “I think you’re crazy”
You said, “I would never leave you”
I said, “I think you’re crazy”
You said that I would never leave you
And I said, “I think you’re crazy”

Let’s Say Goodbye – Richie Kotsen from the album Slow

Let’s say Goodbye