How do you words?

I recently discovered this wondrous side of the Internet that has spoken word poetry videos. It's so novel to me (yeah, I know, I'm so late to the party)  how huge the difference of the impact is when words on the page get translated and interpreted on stage. As Sarah Kay had said, there are really some poetry that cry out to be performed with voice, and the distinct energy of the theater/stage does give so much more life and meaning and perspective to these pieces.

I've always known I'm never cut up for the performing arts, really. I can't say I've really tried giving it my all, but being in front of people takes me at my wits' end. But maybe, just maybe, I could get to crafting pieces as moving and as inspiring as Sarah's, and her partner-in-crime, Phil Kaye's. Or maybe, just enough to make me feel less unsure about myself and the things around me. 

If that didn't blow you away, I don't know what will.

One thing watching these brilliant young minds did is stir some fervent desire in me to just keep writing. Most of the time these days, I feel so unresolved and unmotivated. Even until today, I don't know what it is that I ultimately want to do, whether for a lifelong career or personal craft. I'm just sure that it has something to do with stringing words together. I just had this sudden comforting thought that I could always look up to spoken word poets and be amazed at their sheer passion for the art as well as for provoking thought and discussion. Until then, perhaps I could just keep scribbling away into my notebook, willing the right words to free themselves from my messy head.

So, please tell me, descendants of the babaylan,

... when a woman has decided for herself to choose somebody else over someone she had been with, is that a fault? Does anybody outside the relationship have the right to judge her for her decision? 

I really do not usually care about celebrities and the petty issues about them that gets blown up in the media, but this recent flak a beauty queen, a woman, receives is so representative of the double standards of this society, that I had to pull my thoughts about it together. Even the supposed thinking public over at the social media sites, where discussion is paramount, has ganged up on a woman because she frickin chose someone else she thinks is better for her. Even if the replacement is going to prove to be a poor choice, I firmly believe that's entirely for her to decide.

This brings back to mind something I read some months ago about the "sympathetic friendzoned guy" figure. When he gets rejected and/or left by the woman, she is wrong and her decision needs to be justified. Because, how dare you reject someone who likes you just because you don't like him back, right? But when a woman gets rejected, the general consensus towards her will be she's simply not good enough, she just has to deal with it.

What if it's the guy who caught the attention of a famous international female personality, some gorgeous and coveted Hollywood leading lady? Will he be receiving this obnoxious treatment over the cyberspace? Is he going to be considered a slut? What if he chose this new woman over her former partner? Will the society find the fault in him? Of course not. Instead, he'd be the hero. Yeah, bro, leave her behind, she's not that pretty anyway. Go for the gold, man! 

Misogyny makes my skin crawl. Too much hypocrisy for a society priding itself for having a high regard for women. 

And in the first place, I ask again, does anybody outside the relationship have the right to judge her for her decision? Get your ass out there and mind your own frickin business, people. Yes, I am angry. :\

I pretend I can take cosplay pictures :))

14 April 2013

Kuu as Susanna Hopkins from Genshiken 

Yes, she likes reading. :))

Hi, Kuu. I dunno what just happened. XD

Philippine Veterans Week 2013

Araw ng Kagitingan, Mt. Samat Shrine

Pilar, Bataan, 09 April 2013

Paggunita sa Capas, Capas National Shrine

Capas, Tarlac, 10 April 2013

2013 April 09

A boy plays with his wooden toy banca along the beach at Bagac, Bataan.

Taken by my phone's lousy camera. (Yes, that's a wooden toy banca he's pulling.)

[Untitled [05]

There's a kind of buzz in my ears and tingling in my toes whenever I get sent to events which are also covered by other media practitioners. These reporters and writers and photographers and cameramen are so diverse at first glance, but are there for a common purpose. I look at their cunning and snappy manner. I observe their confidence (or lack of fucks to give haha) while talking to the bigshots. I marvel at their persistence in squeezing out the juicier detail. I look at the throng of cameras they carry and the endless flash of light. I look at the big microphones and the IDs slung at their necks with the various emblems of their respective organizations, but all bearing the same huge block of letters in red, proclaiming they are part of the fourth estate.