Thursday, June 30, 2011

Absolute Justice

Life would be very convenient for me if I were to allow myself to sin everyday and confess at the end of each week to have everything effortlessly erased from my slate.

Or maybe... I could sin as much as I want, keeping faithfully in mind that I am predestined to be saved.

However, I'm not down with such paths.

I believe there is no convenient way to get through life.

I believe that mistakes are to be learned from and not simply erased from consciousness.

I also believe that negative acts are, likewise, to be returned to us in some other form, some time in the future - not merely dismissed as forgiven sins.

Yes, the Absolute God, fountain of Divine Consciousness, is unconditionally loving.

God loves all of us equally, regardless of differences.

God loves every human being - every race, male or female, every gender, every sexual orientation, every belief held.

It's a fact that's hard for some to embrace that God even loves the bigots and criminals equally as God loves those with positive consciousness.

God loves every other being - animal or plant or virus or bacteria or whatever.

Putting all those thoughts in mind, God's equal love for all also means that...
God is purely and infinitely fair.

Cheers, everyone.


Friday, June 24, 2011

Old Entry #12: On Being 19 and Not Being a King Anymore

I'm so darn happy and I'm not going to tell you why!

*Jump! Jump! Jump! Clap! Clap! Clap! Dance! Dance! Dance*

Anyway, I digress...  It's time for another old entry.  I'm not in the mood to post anything RH Bill-related or Divorce Bill-related or anything about Magick or Theosophy or interfaith dialog or gender equality or racism or the GLBTQ movement!  Just not right now.

For now, let me explain my old entry.

This was written a day after my 19th birthday, so don't be surprised if it talks about being a teenager because I really was one when I wrote this back in 2008.

Another major issue about this entry is the fact that it talks very emotionally about my ex.  Yes, my ex.  I didn't bother editing it because he doesn't mean anything to me anymore.  Also, it wouldn't be a genuine old entry if I were to remove huge parts of it simply because it disgusts me - which, to be honest, it does.

As I went over it, I was cringing through the latter parts starting from the point where his name first appeared.  I can't believe I was THAT in love with him back then.  Like, eeew!  Eeeeeeewwww! Ugh! My spine is getting violent shivers.

So, yeah, I decided to publish it in small prints.

One more thing, I couldn't find any photos of that dinner party anywhere in my hard drive.  I don't know if my old computer still has it.  I've taken to digging this one as deeply as I possibly could, but nothing came up for my 2008 birthday.

Well, it's a bummer, but I guess emotional detachment is the key to getting over it.

Here's that old entry now.

This was originally posted on Oct 28, '08 7:01 AM on


The photo above was taken during my uncle's wedding 15 years ago.  I was four then.

Oh, how cute I was.

I still haven't sunken in to the fact that I'm already only a year closer to not being a teen anymore.  It's not that I'm beginning to get age-conscious this young or anything.  It's just that I've been too immature to even qualify to advance in age.  I've been really negligent -- practically about everything.  I guess it's a trait I've learned to live with.  [Not good!]

I consider this a catch-22 to be reckoned with.

My day yesterday wasn't as fussy as my birthdays when I was younger.  I used to be king for a day whenever the 27th of October would come.  There used to be huge parties at my home where everyone from neighbors to school friends to governors to congressmen would be around.

This time, however, it was way different.  I even cooked at my own dinner party.  Get a load of that!  I went grocery shopping, pranced through aisles worrying if I'd left something out -- not to mention going through the agony of hand-carrying what felt like a truckload of goodies and drinks, shoving them in the back of my car and nearly passing out in the front passenger's seat.

And the work didn't end there, I passed by two restaurants to order a couple of stuff only to be told that it wouldn't be ready until 3 hours later.  What a treat for the ears!

Upon getting home, I had to marinate the chicken the way I wanted it, bread the pork, butter the chevon, tenderize the beef, dictate how the charcoal was to be burnt for the grill, burn my tongue tasting dishes directly from saucepans, instruct piece-by-piece how the vegetables were to be chopped.  Moreover, I was also the spice director for the soup.  I was practically head chef/grocery guy/birthday boy.

Yeah, it felt great!  No, I'm not kidding.  It actually did!  Amidst all that brouhaha going on in the kitchen, I was rather happy that I was part of the effort of making it all happen.

Upon finishing, the guests started coming in.  And, boy, were they hungry!  I wanted to wait for my dad but it was rather inappropriate to make my guests wait.  Some of them came all the way from Los Baños, Laguna.  We had to start without him.  He came in the middle of it all, though.  And he brought a lot of ice cream and wine.  Such an awesome dad!  [Hahaha!]

Yes, I was happy last night.  I just wish Ted could have been there.  I miss him terribly.  Yes, we did have two days together over the weekend.  A night over at my house and an entire day at the beach.  But still, it was really bitin.  We made the most of it but it still wasn't enough.  Well, what would one expect?  We're lovers!

He gave me two silver bracelets.  So sweet of him.  I love him so much!

Anyway, over the years, I've outgrown a lot of things.  I used to be really obsessed with WWE but it has now fallen to the bottom part of my list of interests.  Lea Salonga will, of couse, remain since my love for art will always be something of passion.

Ted, on the other hand... Being with him... Loving him... Even quarrelling with him... I'm certain I'd never grow tired of.  I love him.  I love how he goes so utterly gay and claps his hands so childishly when he gets excited.  I love the look on his face when he gets 'hurt'.  I love the way his eyes close when we kiss.  I love everything about Ted.

Well, what more can I say?  I don't think I need to.

I'm 19.  But I think this would take some getting used to before I'll be completely comfortable with telling people.  There's a huge difference between blogging and enunciating "I'm 19."  It's just not the same.

Anyway, "deal with it, Ludwig!"


Tuesday, June 14, 2011

I Rock and You Can't Contest That

See! The Goddess of Musical Theatre herself has spoken!

Oh, gosh!  I went completely crazy!

And she used my real name!

Waaaaahhhh!  When I read it I sat dumbfounded for five minutes with my mouth open!

I mean, sure, I've met her in person and talked to her, but this is different.

She said I rock!


On a more serious (less fanboyish) note...

Besides the fact that she's awesome in the field of music and theater...

I look up to Lea for her firmness in upholding what she believes in-

For standing up for her advocacies and using intellectual defense against adversaries-

For never giving up on trying to educate people no matter how incorrigible the may seem-

For being AWESOME!


Monday, June 13, 2011

Old Entry #11: Rainbow Connection - A Rant About This Severe Last Song Syndrome

Time for another one of these.

Hmmm... What have I done so far today?  Apart from studying, studying, Facebooking, Tweeting, and more studying, I don't think I've done anything else.  Oh, yeah, I ate, too.

What else?

Earlier today, I took a break from the jargon of economics and decided to watch a little local TV. I was lucky (?) they were playing a rerun of last night's Harapan debate on the Philippine Divorce Bill.  Goodness gracious!  I had my options but I chose to watch it again, anyway.  I wanted to fill myself with disgust for the opposition.  And, boy, did I succeed!  Stupid assholes!

Anyway, here's my old entry.  Enjoy!

This was originally posted on Oct 17, '08 9:54 PM on


I don't know why.  For the past several years since time immemorial (of course, take note of the fact that I'm only 18), I've had a severe case of last song syndrome.  Yes, with this song.  Hey, it's not my favorite song or anything.  It just so happens to be stuck in my head.  All these years!

Picture my late grandfather.  Back when I was 5, whenever we'd visit our ancestral home, I'd be prancing through the living room going about my business--singing the song.  It's amazing how he managed to develop such tolerance for a boy singing about rainbows taking into account that he considers stuffed Bugs Bunny toys to be sissy.  And mind you, my voice was anything but masculine back then.

Imagine this common scenario.  I'd sit in front of my PC singing the song so jovially and then poof!  The internet connection bugs down.  I'd be making horrible shockwaves on the wood-tiled floor.  I'd be swearing tri-lingually with terms ranging from the usual "shit" to the more obscene "fuck" to the rather demeaning "putang ina" to the local "bilat sa ijang ina."  And then... Surprise, surprise!  Seconds later, still steaming from the ears, I'd start singing "So we've been told..."  Isn't that rather amazing?  No?  Yes?  Whatever!

I'm not sure, though, but it probably began when I heard Lea Salonga sing it as a child.  My dad had what I used to see as a tall pile of child-singers' music album audio cassette tapes -- Lea's included.  He'd play it every morning with the volume cranked up.  It was my alarm during school days -- from my years at the local Montessori to the end of gradeschool.  On weekends, it was recreational music for me.  The only reason why I stopped hearing it regularly was because my mom moved out of the house during their break-up.  Sad days.

Of course, I've out-heighted that pile by now but it still seems pretty big of a collection.  Most of them have already accummulated moulds over the years and, naturally, the wheels don't turn anymore.  However, this marvel excludes a few.  On top of the list is Lea Salonga's "Small Voice" -- an album that I never got tired of listening to.  I even brought it with me when I left the house.

Maybe she's the culprit.  It sure wasn't Kermit the Frogof The Muppets.  I was never really fond of those silly puppets whose feet nobody ever sees on TV.  No offense meant to those who adore the green icon.  Other than his, Lea's version and the Carpenters' were the only ones available for my ears at the time and I'm sure it wasn't Karen's voice that made it stick to my head.  Back then, I didn't have much appreciation for such deep contralto vocals.  Her albums weren't off my reach but I left them just where they were.  I always used to think they were just for the grown-ups.  ABBA's songs were more appealing to me.

When Jason Mraz's version came out, it got five thumbs down from me.  Not that it's ugly.  He has a great counter-tenor singing voice.  It's just that I'm adamant against versions other than Lea's -- only for this song, though.

And, again, the most peculiar thing is that it isn't even my favorite song.  Get a load of that!  I don't listen to it anymore.  I'd rather be hearing Idina Menzel singing Defying Gravity.  And sure, I do have other songs to LSS with but no matter how long I haven't heard the song, it always keeps coming back.

Weird, no?  No?  Yes?  Whatever!


Thursday, June 9, 2011

Divorce: Sink Your Teeth into Why I Feel We Need It

This is something I haven't written about yet despite having placed the advocacy badge on my blog for a couple of days now.  I'm not writing this entry because I feel obliged—you know, being quite vocal about it on Twitter and Facebook.  I'm writing because it has dawned on me that I need to share a story that people could sink their teeth into to explain my opinions.

My parents haven't been under the same roof for 9 years now.  My mother moved out of the house when I was 12.  It wasn't a very peaceful thing back then.  Yes, hearts were broken and there were buckets and buckets of tears.  There was immense grief on both parties.  And, yes, I did, of course, feel very sad that the marriage had ended after only 12 years.  No more Christmas Eve celebrations with just the three of us feasting on a big native basket of fresh fruits and ice cream while watching a live filming of Cats the Musical—closing our eyes in unison when Elaine Paige belted out “touch me,” from the show tune, “Memory.”  No more walks to the car after seeing a play where we’d talk about how amazing the story was and how bad some of the actors were.  No more late nights of telling jokes and sharing stories and no more mom to go all, “Oh my gosh, it’s two hours past your bedtime!”  No more asking mom for her opinion one second and asking dad for his thoughts two seconds later.  All those moments are now but mere memories to be cherished, but, alas, I knew that my mother had made a wise decision by leaving.

Was there abuse involved?  Probably.  It was not a one-sided thing, though, and I'm not partial to either of them.  I'm also not going to delve into the reasons because that would be an invasion of both my folks' privacy.  I love both of them equally and I'm not bitter about their separation, so there will be no trashing from me.

What was wrong, you ask?  There was nothing wrong with either of them.  What was wrong was the fact that they were silently forcing their union to work because they didn't think I would be able to handle such a drastic change at such a young age—more so because I was an only child and they feared I would get the feeling that I needed to divide myself for them.  They were mistaken, of course.  I had already understood what was going on.

In the heat of the conflict “season,” as I term it, they would take turns explaining the on-goings.  Of course, since I was a child, they had to sugarcoat things, but they never lied.  It started off with the usual “mama and papa aren’t seeing eye-to-eye these days,” to “mama and papa are having some sort of misunderstanding,” until the dead giveaway that went something like “we hope you understand that this could bring about certain changes,” because of this and that and what not.  It’s interesting to note that, as honest as they tried to be, they couldn't resist employing a vulnerable tone of voice when explaining things to me.  They obviously did it to gain my "vote of sympathy."  However, they understood that I was a thinker to begin with and that I was more than capable of extracting the truth on my own, so they didn't do it for very long.

I understood back then that they feared I would think of either of them as "the bad one."  Whether or not I did isn't an issue anymore.  What's important was that I knew in my heart and mind that their being together was not meant to last and what was very wrong with the picture was the fact that they were burning themselves in a marriage that was no longer working.  It was not at all hard for me to figure that out.  In fact, my words paved the way for mother's final decision to leave.  I was the one who said, "I'm not going to choose between you both.  I understand.  I can manage being shared and it's not going to damage me like you think it would."  After all, being shared doesn’t mean I’m going to have to divide myself—not that it’s even possible.

Two weeks later, my mom left the house.  While I was busy in school, she silently packed her stuff and drove away.  I only learned she had left when I got out.  5PM on the dot, she phoned me in tears and told me she was somewhere else.  I went to her instantly and decided, with blessings from my dad, to stay with her for a while knowing that she was the more fragile between them.  She moved in with grandma and grandpa (her parents).  And, not long after, the whole family—as in my mom's and dad's parents, siblings and friends—fell into utter chaos.  They were so worried for me that they took huge chunks off their daily work clock to talk to me in tears (them, not me), "trying" to console me and make me understand while at the same time trying to get me to do something to patch the marriage up.  One of mom's not-so-intelligent friends even went as far as to urge me to throw a tantrum just so they'd get back together.  In my mind, I said, "oh, you have no idea!"  They didn't know how relieved I was to begin with.  I finally lost it in a fit of irritation and yelled, "I get it and I believe it's better this way!  Leave me alone!  You don't know anything!"

That left them in a bit of a shock for a couple of weeks.  Nobody reached out to me.  I had to go through a full hour of silence each time I’d dine with other family members.  My only comfortable moments in the home were the ones I’d spent alone with either mom or dad.  I had to put up with the awkwardness for nearly a month until the issue finally started falling silent and people started talking to me.  The whole thing eventually returned to normal, thank goodness.  And it must have been that long since my cousins expressed how unusual it was for people to be talking around me.  Strange.

Over a few years, wounds gradually healed.  My mom came to recover fully and my dad moved on.  So did I.  The sadness disappeared over time and a lot of epiphanies.

Today, my parents remain friends—if not for voluntary interest, then for my sake.  I demanded that from them, at least, and they have no problem staying civil in each other's presence.  It’s also a wonderful thing that they’re clearly not holding anything back anymore.  Goodness forbid we ever go back to those times when mom would suppress a screech.  She wasn’t very good at pretending to be okay, so it was always obvious back in the days.  Now, however, they don't fight anymore and they don't exchange painful statements.  The discussions between them are much, much healthier even if their ideas don't lie on the same plane.  Plus, I'm happy.  Nothing will change the fact that they're my mother and father and nothing will ever make me love them any less.  Heck, I'm even the one surprised that it didn't take any effort on their part to accept me for everything I am when I came out to them as a bisexual.

Who doesn't think it's better this way?

Yes, I am happy, but there's something still not right with this picture.  The fact that society still addresses them as husband and wife is something that compels them to lie every single day.  The truth is they're not married anymore.  They have not been married since 2002 and they have no legitimate grounds for annulment because the fact is they really were married.  They are honest people and they refuse to lie by nullifying it.  Everyone knows how in love they were—most especially because I exist.  I was no accident.  I am a product of a love story that once was.  To deny that it ever happened would not only be painful, unethical and inappropriate; it would be plain sordid.  Now that it's all gone, though, the papers are still there saying otherwise.  It's very sad thinking that they have no way to be able to declare to the world that the marriage happened, but has now been legally dissolved.  The fact is, legal dissolution of a marriage (divorce) is just not an option where we live.  What's available for us is annulment, which is plain hypocrisy!

Why is this happening?  This is happening because we live in a country where the system compels them to force each other to admit they're something they're not.  Otherwise, they'd have to tweak a few stories here and there and spend hundreds of thousands of pesos to tell people it never really happened.  Isn't that such an evil thing to do?  Why is the Roman Catholic hierarchy, the Catholic Bishops' Conference of the Philippines (CBCP), so against something so downright honest?  I really don't get it.  If they favor righteousness over evil, then why be so adverse towards progressive suggestions?

My parents are lucky that they're peaceful and they have come to a mutual understanding.

But what about those trapped in dire situations?  What about the women who suffer perpetual physical abuse from husbands who can't stand the sight of their wives because the attraction has moved somewhere else?  These women have to put up with the battery because of a system that forces them to stay together.  Moreover, majority of them lack education on options of personal protection because they believe they are bound to submission.  Why?  The reason is because the doctrine of the Roman Catholic Church dictates that wives have to remain subordinate to their husbands.  And not many women in remote areas have access to liberal ideologies.  An enormous number of them just absorb whatever is poured over them (pun intended).  This also goes for the issue on Reproductive Health Education, but that's an entirely different story.

The Philippines is the only country on Earth that doesn’t permit divorce—a process that happens to be sensible, practical, and honest.  Why?  Because we suck up too much influence from a religious institution that, apparently, favors denial and lies over a clean solution to unsolvable marriage predicaments or the thorough dissolution of the real sense of marriage, for that matter.

We need the divorce bill to be passed.  This is not a selfish thing.  This helps a lot of people—women and men alike.  The provisions don't make marriage turn into a form of brief recreation unlike many countries.  Read the bill thoroughly and you'll understand.  There just needs to be an exit door for people in a situation wherein the word “married” has been reduced to a mere nominal thing.  There needs to be a way out for couples whose marriages have turned into excruciating traps rather havens of life-building love and peace.  Whether or not you're going to say that this nation is ready for something so new, the option should exist because the world is not perfect and many lives are not as gleeful as others.  Many of the Roman Catholic Church’s subjects are not as faithful as the church thinks they are.  They need to accept that.

I sincerely hope the Philippine Divorce Bill gets passed.  I’m sending a lot of energy into the advocacy.


Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Two Cebu Boys in Bohol

...with Two More Bohol Boys and One Bohol Girl!

On June 4th, 2011, a friend came over for the E.A.T. Danao experience.  On the trip, he tagged one of his friends along.

We traveled, we had death-defying fun, we ate, we traveled again, we stopped somewhere, then we traveled some more, stopped again, until we finally ate dinner somewhere.  Drunk and unruly partying followed to culminate the evening, naturally.

I don't think I need to explain all the photos. Just freaking look at them.

Credits go to Dake Suico and Cedric Lucero, our Cebu Boys, for the photos.

Here's my pathetic explanation:  That morning, I woke up in apathy thinking it would be just another day out, so I didn't bother bringing any camera.

I'm stupid and I'm saying it myself so you won't feel the need to tell me.

The Cast


 The Three (SuiSlidal) Idiots

Cedie Boy 


Pretentious bitch - she didn't plunge!
She told me she would.

going down


finally letting go

Oh, fuck yeah! 

Francisco Dagohoy Park 

Our Cebu Boys, Cedie and Dake 

Tickle, tickle, Farrah?
The Chocolate Hills

Smiles... Farrah's is forced! 

Going down 214 steps 

boob-grabbing at the man-made forest

At the Bohol Divers' Club

McKoi and Cedie 

 Me and the Cebu Boys
and, yes, it's just a shirt!  I'm not one!

Hula Ladies 

Farrah dancing the Hula 

 Fire dancer boy

Supporters of the Red Horse Bill... err, BEER 


I don't know that guy in white.
He told us he wanted to put up a restaurant in Bohol.

The "BOYS" 

Dede.... Nyahahahaha! 

Dede na jud!  ROFLMAO 

 Los Boholanos
na-piit na ko ninyo ha


Monday, June 6, 2011

Old Entry #10: Nosebleed

Another old entry just for the heck of it!

I didn't think this expression would last up to now.  I though it would eventually die after two years.  Alas, it still exists and thousands of university students in the Philippines still use it.

Yeah, whatever! 

This was originally posted on Oct 14, '08 10:35 PM on


I used to ignore jokes forwarded to me via text messages on my phone so I wasn't really hooked to the infectious Inday Pandemic that was plaguing Silliman University--or any other university for that matter.

Halfway into the first academic semester of 2007-2008, I noticed that more and more people adopted the term "nosebleed" to retort to people who used English terms they didn't understand.

I'll give you a sample Inday joke.

Amo: Inday, ba’t sinisipon si Junior?

Inday: He came in direct contact from surfaces contaminated with rhinoviruses which entered the cells of the lining of his nasopharynx which in turn rapidly multiplied. Thus, giving him a viral infectious disease of the upper respiratory system called acute viral nasopharyngitis.

Amo: [nosebleed sabay nataranta] what??! tumawag ka ng ambulansya!

Here's an example of an ordinary dialog wherein the term is used to describe a word I just said.

Klarisse:  Bon, go na!  Face him.  You're such a chicken talaga!

Me:  Ayoko nga!  Come on.  Talking to him will only exacerbate the situation.  As if it's not dire enough.

Klarisse:  Ano ba naman!  Nakaka-nosebleed naman ng terms mo!

Nakaka-nosebleed?  Which word/s?  From what I know, the term is heavily used by people who do not understand a certain word.  So has the English proficiency of the common Filipino student plummetted to such horrifying depht?

Even some of my classmates in Basic Communication used the term "nakaka-nosebleed" to describe our instructor.  Gahd!  It's their job to speak straight English with use of atypical terms!  How else the heck would your nose stop bleeding?

And besides, why the word nosebleed?  What logical explanation could you provide to associate incomprehension with nose bleeding?  I'd rather seePatrick Star drooling blankly infront of me while I speak English than see a university student bleeding from the nose.

Yes, I'm overreacting and I'm ranting about something which would make everyone else's lives better when ignored.  Sorry but it's just become too much for me.  Even usage of the term "euphemism" made someone's nose bleed just a couple of days ago.  What?  Why not go to and find out what it means?  For God's sake, why allow yourself not to be aware of what a certain word means?  I just used it.  Go look it up!

How would you respond then?  Just let your nose bleed profusely until Red Cross/Crescent starts bringing bags for you?  Ugh!  Some people!

Please!  Do take responsibility for your own noggins!  We each only have one.  Remember, if the brain does not get enough blood flow (because you allowed most of the blood in your head to fall off your nose), it will be damaged permanently.  That's an indubitable medical fact.

So, please!

Moreover, do find an alternative term for nosebleed.  It's getting old -- not to mention tremendously annoying.  Try using the expression intellectually orgasmic or what have you.  Just not nosebleed.


Friday, June 3, 2011

Old Entry #9: Ten Rules for Being Human

I haven't posted an old entry in a while, but seeing as this day isn't about to get productive in a real world sense, I might as well do something to make it.

I don't think I need to explain this very much, though.  It pretty much says everything already.

This was originally posted on Oct 13, '08 2:47 PM on


Ah, the indubitable veracity of it.  Life is, indeed, a cycle of brouhahas and gleeful moments divided into variants and sundry events.

My dad introduced me to these rules a year ago before I left home for college; along with a book he gave me entitled "Life's Little Instruction Book" by H. Jackson Brown, Jr.  It was a present among presents.

Truth be told, I did, indeed, forget about them, then I would remember a line each time it would apply to a situation I get stuck in.  And then I'd forget about it again.

But I guess the essence isn't in remembering the statements verbatim, it's in printing these lines onto your heart.  Life is a non-packaged journey of endless possibilities.  It's how we handle ourselves in the process that truly matters.


Read on below to get your own insights.


* You will receive a body. You may like it or hate it but it will be yours for this time around.

* You will learn lessons. You are enrolled in a full-time informal school called life. Each day in this school you will have the opportunity to learn lessons. You may like the lessons or think them irrelevant or stupid.

* There are no mistakes, only lessons. Growth is a process of trial and error: experimentation. The failed experiments are as much a part of the process as the experiment that lands up working.

* A lesson is repeated until learned. A lesson will be presented to you in various forms until you have learned it. When you have learned it you can then go on to the next lesson.

* Learning lessons does not end. There is no part of life that does not contain lessons. If you are alive, there are lessons to be learned.

* ‘There’ is no better than ‘here’. When your ‘there’ has become ‘here’ you will simply obtain another ‘there’ that will again look better than ‘here’.

* Others are merely mirrors of you. You cannot love or hate something about another person unless it reflects to you something you love or hate about yourself.

* What you make of life is up to you. You have all the tools and resources you need – what you do with them is up to you. The choice is yours.

* The answers lie inside you. All you need to do is look, listen and trust.

* You will forget all this, remember it, and forget it again!