You(r words) are still at the top of my lungs.

(Here's to more.) Happy birthday.

The fear of falling apart

This is gospel for the fallen ones
Locked away in permanent slumber
Assembling their philosophies
From pieces of broken memories
(This is the beat of my heart)
Their gnashing teeth and criminal tongues
Conspire against the odds
But they haven't seen the best of us yet 

— Panic! at the Disco, This is Gospel

---

Aaah. Brendon and Panic! did it again. I still can't believe it's been five years since Pretty. Odd. (I need to accept that my original Vegas quartet won't be back together anytime soon, or ever.) But I am sure as hell excited for the coming album, if Miss Jackson and This is Gospel are anything to go by. 

Untitled [09]

During the dinner last night with office mates and a previous intern, it occurred to me how the Rappler article on "Birth Order Personality" proves to be true in my case even out of the family setting. One of the office mates I was with, who was older than me by a handful of years, noticed how I somehow took charge of settling us in at the table. She said that in her group of friends, she is the one being taken care of, so it came naturally to her to let other people mind things. As she noticed it, I suddenly realized that I actually do the thing almost always automatically, even if there are people who are older than me. I guess my "psychological birth order" really does hold true for me in most settings. Of course, in the rare occasion that people other than me take charge, I relish it while it lasts. It's why I always dream of having an ate or a kuya à la Lee Pace as Aaron Tyler in Wonderfalls.  Haha.

Are you going to leave a path to trace?

Are you going to age with grace?
Are you going to age without mistakes?
Are you going to age with grace?
Only to wake and hide your face?
When oblivion
Is calling out your name
You always take it further
Than I ever can 

— Bastille, Oblivion

Nine years

god save us every one /  will we burn inside the fires of a thousand suns?

More than once did I look at the ceiling of the Mall of Asia Arena that Tuesday night, wondering if it can handle the almost-a-decade-worth of screaming from the thousands of Linkin Park fans gathered that moment, wondering if the rafters will shake every time Mike Shinoda and Chester Bennington told the frenzied crowd to roar and make some noise. 

Because when they did, we obeyed, and more. (now what the hell are you waiting for?)

The whole band, Brad, Phoenix, Joe, Rob (fucking Bourdon and his killer drums), Mike and Chester, were as every bit of amazing performers as they have always been in my eyes. The way they sustained that energy for almost two hours was practically superhuman. I almost got dismayed because, wow, everything sounded record-perfect (if not better), and can't there be a little flaw just so I could prove to myself that they're humans? Because wow, that was just... motherfuckingawesome. 

When they entered the stage to being with A Place for My Head, I could already feel a sting in my eyes, because I was that happy and excited to see them perform live. I thought I was going to cry, but there was so much buzz in my body and all I wanted right then and there was scream myself raw and make Linkin Park hear that their songs have been such huge part of my life, that they are such fucking geniuses with rhythm and words, that the chaos and pent-up emotions they have translated into poetry and sound were such a force that have pulled me in right from the start. 

From some of the concerts I've watched of them online, I gathered that LP is a no nonsense band, always straight up to giving electrifying performances non-stop. I was thinking, gods, I wish that the famously loud Philippine crowd will make a mark tonight, make the band see how fervent the Filipinos have been waiting for return since they first came here in 2004. I was waiting and waiting, and I was pleased that in the middle of the concert when probably the majority of the crowd had their ears ringing, Mike called us "a beautiful crowd" and, near the end, heeded the message of the fanproject posters and said, "Promise we'll come back soon."

we say yeah with fists flying up in the air
like we're holding onto something that's invisible there

It's such an unexplainable feeling to be there and have your first ever favorite band perform the songs that you have listened to and sang since you were young. It's equally overwhelming to hear new songs and watch it unfold its effect on the crowd gathered that night. The medley of Leave Out All the Rest, Shadow of the Day, and Iridescent certainly tugged at the heartstrings, as the arena slowly lit up with glow-lights from the people's gadgets, while Chester sang the haunting melody telling us to, "let it go." It was remarkable to be in the middle of such a profound, enchanting moment.

I truly wished I was nearer the stage. (My Stars concert experience disoriented me somehow, making me believe that in the succeeding concerts I will attend, I will always be almost close to touch the stage.) But Linkin Park is Linkin Park, and it's only this band that has made me scream with reckless abandon, not caring about anything in the world, and simply sing the words with the thousands of fellow fans who grew up and changed with the band. 

I remember, some time in college, during that time when I haven't been listening to Linkin Park for a while, I received a text from a high school friend saying, "I'm on a jeepney ride today and a Linkin Park song is playing. I thought of you." That stupid band (ergo amazingawesome) has been that significant a part of my life, despite some people putting them down and belittling my taste. 

As the band closed the adrenaline-pumping performance with Faint, Lying From You, and One Step Closer, I couldn't say if that one night was worth the nine-year wait. 

It is and it isn't.

I don't know. I think I could use another good round of screaming with Mike, Chester, and the rest of LP.

you were that foundation / never gonna be another one, no

Edit: Living Things World Tour: Linkin Park in Manila Setlist

Gone haywire

Between being disgusted by the Pork Barrel Scam and the absurdity of the fact that the perpetrators and backers get away unpunished, Panic! at the Disco announcing the hiatus of its drummer, Spencer Smith, as he battles against drug addiction leaving Brendon Urie the only one in the band from the original quartet, finally being able to meet up with ghei  friends after not seeing each other for more than practically a month, watching Team Gilas Pilipinas valiantly make its way to the FIBA Asia Finals (and consequently, to the FIBA World Cup), being told that the Broadway musical Wicked: The Untold Stories of the Witches of Oz is coming to Manila after a successful online petition, learning that Bastille and Linkin Park performed at the same music festival in Japan and begging the heavens for such a thing to happen again that I can experience, celebrating the birthday of  twin friends while casually evaluating the (more than a) decade-long friendship over cakes, karaoke, and nonchalantly trying to murder each other in the pool and under the mattresses (haha, really), clutching my heart as Team Pilipinas succumb to a loss against Iran and settle for the silver, and realizing that the awaited Linkin Park concert for which I will fight tooth and nail against anybody and anything that will keep me from attending is just another night of sleep away, I am a scatterbrained heap of incredulity and giddiness and anticipation and just – nerves. 

UPCAT Musings

I accompanied my sister last Sunday to UP for her college admission test. Needless to say, she was pressured, both from the expectation of the family and probably her own self. It felt like so much is at stake on the result of that exam and no preparation will be enough. 

I seriously can't remember much of my own UPCAT experience. I do remember that I went with a handful of my high school classmates to the campus, but we separated ways since we had different testing venues. It wasn't dawn yet when we arrived. I have no recollection of the questions either, not one, at all. I just remember eating only one of the three sandwiches I brought, and subsisting on candy and anxiety. I do know that I wanted to pass, that I wanted to study in UP.

The Gate(s) of Mordor

Would I be as anxious if I were in the same situation? Probably.

UP is not as fancy as the universities in my fiction fantasies – no scenic coastlines, no cathedral ruins, no castle chambers as classrooms, no Scottish pubs, no fancy and elaborate traditions and customs. But it's the university that is as familiar as the back of my hands. It is home.

My social ineptitude has probably hindered me from maximizing my UP experience, but I know that I am content at observing the vibrant student life take place. I have learned that I know so little, that I have a long way to go. UP life taught me patience, taught me how to look at the bigger picture. It robbed me of sleep, of my sense of self-worth when everything became so overwhelming. It taught me to fend for myself, to be able to make things work no matter how dire the situation. 

I have this image of UP reluctantly taking me in its arms. Touch move. For both ends.

I still doubt if I truly deserved being under Oble's wing, but the experience has given me so much pride, and yet has been thoroughly humbling. It's the institution that I'm still trying to fully comprehend but respect beyond words. 

It has its way of getting under one's skin, almost certainly permanently taking hold. 

Untitled [08]

but
will you ever let me in?
right through the hedge,
and past the crimson
picket fence
you've etched
upon your skin?