RAID the cockroach ninja.

Cockroaches are nasty little things, and around these tropical cities, not so little. Try as I might, (or might not) my room is never truly spotless, so they come around at night, click-click-clicking their creepy crawly legs across the dark wood floor. I can’t sleep very well when my eardrums are overflowing with the scurrying of something very alive and very disgusting. Something that also happens to be very near. So today, I fumigated that shit. It was a truly spirited adventure that started without a professional gas mask or expensive chemicals… but with RAID cockroach killer. I moved all my essentials to the empty room next door and set up headquarters. I crushed up corn chips as bait and laid them out in the dark abysmal corners of my now infested living space. Then… I waited. I waited so hard, and so impressively. When darkness came I tugged on jeans, runners and a hoodie, crept through the door… and clutched my RAID can out in front of me. I was a cockroach killing ninja. Armed with deep courage and seething vengeance… I fogged those buggers like it was my one true mission in life. With art, style, grace, and minimal girl shrieks, I stomped and sprayed and stomped and sprayed my way to glory. Just when I was beginning to think it was all over, my ninja sense tingled… and there, zig zagging his way out from the crack in the floor.. was a hulking beast of a creature. This was to be my finest moment. The war to end all wars. That is… until I realized the cockroach left in front of me was, quite literally, insane. Now, I’m not sure what’s actually in those Raid bottles… but someone somewhere at their research facilities has a twisted sense of humor. That ugly bug suddenly seemed a whole lot smaller as he ran back and forth on the same line, paused, jumped around, and continued his endless desperate journey to nowhere. There was no rhythm to his clicking, no intelligence in the flailing direction of his antennas. This was one very crazy, and very poisoned cockroach. I, of course, being the evil soul that I am… giggled at the helpless soul struggling below me, raised my shoe up high… and ended it all with one fatal crunch. Us ninjas have a job to do, and we will achieve it without mercy or compassion.

more circles.

I imagine knowledge sometimes... as a circle. Inside, I'm safe. Surrounded by everything I know, or think I know about... and it's all slowly expanding everyday, but there is no limit. The potential growth is infinite, and that scares me a little bit. The non-understanding of an overflowing world. Risky misadventures waiting in the dark somewhere to leap on me.  I don't pretend to know everything and never will, but in the case of an online, completely publicized blog.. I will write lil tidbits from the very center of my safety circle.  - Me.

If you can pretend as hard as I'm pretending, and imagine as hard as I've imagined, then this is not going to be the first time we've ever met.

cheated.

I think, in some disheartening and completely twisted way, you can almost define a past relationship by the way you broke up. Mine were never very dramatic, never even close to anything that happens in the movies. It wasn’t a flame being drenched in gallons of water all at once… it was the slow, steady fizzle of light rainfall. All in debt to the shocking percentage who happened to cheat on me. I suppose monogamy could truly be the most difficult fight against Mother Nature that the male species will ever encounter. So much in fact, that I don’t believe in second chances anymore. My immediate abandonment of forgiveness was never rooted in jealousy or rage… or even despair. It was the simple fact that I cared about them all. I cared so much that the mere thought of his flesh against anyone else's…him sharing that level of intimacy and him willing to risk it all for an hour or two of mindless pleasure... made me want to throw up in my mouth a little bit. It made my skin tight and the pit of my stomach lurch up into my throat. It strangled me until I gave up completely and the only thing left to do was walk away. Nothing hurts more than realizing he meant everything to you, but you meant nothing to him. I could easily throw around counter opinions that usually go in some form of the ultra lame “everyone makes mistakes.” Or simply “drunk choices gone wrong,” but you know that’s all bullshit. Mistakes happen, but cheating.. is not one I'm able to tolerate. There’s always that moment where he can look around and realize, ‘hey… even if I’m supremely wasted and my girlfriend’s not around, maybe I shouldn’t stick my penis in that vagina that isn't hers.’ If you are sober enough to have sex… you are sober enough to say no.

End of fucking story.

somnus noctis.

Over the last week or two, I have been dreaming of music. It always starts from beneath my feet. Seeping out from the earth itself… layering into the mountains and trees… or flowing through the ocean and drifting up to meet the clouds. Each one of these dreams left me awake and at peace. Left me discovering a smile on my heart. Left me with the realization that after years of working on myself, and trying to understand my dream reality… that music is anywhere you want it to be. Maybe that is the real reality, not the one that we all get so caught up in. When I’m trapped now, or when the Other sneaks up and tries to manipulate my emotions… I remember a world overflowing with song, and these days, I have been listening more closely to what it’s trying to say to me. From beneath my feet, my musical dreams lift me up to an untouchable plain, where my inner darkness can’t stifle me. Where I am alone but never lonely. I heard a quote once somewhere saying, “music washes away the dust of everyday life”… and I think only now, do I truly understand the meaning.

the PESOgirls.

The foreign men around here are deluded into thinking they are something so damn special. Simply.. and honestly… because the hot, young hookers have perfected the ability to make them feel attractive, important, and loved. For just a few thousand pesos a night. They are wrapped up in this endless supply of tricks and tips and lines… all used and delivered with the subtle mixture of naughty and nice. Innocent, but willing. A one night exchange of body parts for cash… is manipulated into feeling pretty damn close to paradise. So it’s all fantasies and disillusions swirling up in the egos of these foreign men living in the Philippines… until one day. There, swinging in through the thick log doors of the local expat pub, the young white chick strolls in… and it’s BOOM. Reality kick to the face. Within seconds, everything is off balance. No one knows what just happened, but we all feel it. The moment of ego deflation. Sometimes, I swear there is a slight breeze as it happens. A deep exhale of confidence as the walls start to crack and come crumbling down in the form of a list.

No, you are not a catch. No, your boring job does not impress her, no matter how good you might be at it. No, your wallet is not enough to get her in your bed. No, she will not follow you around like a lost puppy dog. No, she will not mold herself to suit your needs. Yes, she has something to say, and yes, she will speak her mind, even if you don’t like it. Yes she has layers and yes, some of them go deeper than you might be able to. Yes, she is more interested in being your friend and not at all in being your toy. Yes, she will demand respect and no, she will not tolerate those who don’t give it to her.

list from last night.

Rule number one: Avoid all things of the miniskirt and heels persuasion when embarking upon a drunken adventure
Rule number two: Begin said adventure much much later than 5pm
Rule number three: Do not begin said adventure at all… if feeling sad or upset.
Rule number four: Do not believe that beer can, or will, drown away all your troubles.
Rule number five: Do not shop in side-of-the-road boutiques if wasted
Rule number six: Realize that….yes, tiger print does make you look like a slut.
Rule number seven: Avoid changing into new dress in public places.
Rule number eight: Do not accompany American tourist friend to strip clubs.
Rule number nine: Do NOT, under any circumstances, let the girls convince you to dance on stage
Rule number ten: Read this list every weekend, and try not to break EVERY rule in one night.

27 questions... my way.

1. Who is your crush?
Someone.
2. Honestly, does your crush like you back?
Honestly, yes. Kinda.
3. What is your current mood?
Already annoyed by my decision to do this survey.
4. What color underwear are you wearing?
None – unless these plaid boxers count as pajamas and underwear.
5. What makes you happy?
Smiles and ice-cream. And orgasms.
6. What are you doing?
Typing
7. If you MUST be an animal for ONE day:
Well damn.. if I MUST, for just ONE day, I’d be… a bird. A little brown sparrow.
8. Ever had a near death experience?
Twice. When I was little and stupid and ate poisonous things.
9. And 10. Have been omitted due to extreme lack of relevance.
11. When was the last time you cried?
I cried tonight, from watching the season finale of Californication. Yeah yeah, I’m a girl. It happens.
12. Have you ever sung in front of a large audience?
Unless horribly drunk karaoke counts, then no. I have not, and will never.
13. If you could have one super power what would it be?
I’d like to be indestructible.
14. If you could go back in time, and change something what would you change?
I’d go back to about 30 seconds ago, and not do this survey.
15. First thing you notice about people?
Hands… or...handshake and voice.
16. What's your biggest secret?
Anyone who answers this question at all… is lying.
17. Favorite colour?
Pink
18. When was the last time you lied?
Just now. My favourite color is Green, and Yellow.
19. Do you still watch kiddy movies or TV shows?
Disney movies.
20. Omitted also.
21. What's your favorite smell?
Coconut Body Butter.
22. If you could describe your life in one word what would it be?
Life.
23. What should you be doing?
I WILL be… ending this survey now. They used the ‘should’ word on me. It’s over.
24. What was the last thing that made you upset/angry?
25. If you could have any last name in the world, what would you want?
26. Do you act differently around your crush?
27. Name one song that reminds you of an ex?

god and dinosaurs.

I am a devoted anti-alarmist. So much in fact, that I can say with absolute certainty, the dinosaurs were not turned into bone piles by some mass extinction catastrophe. Oh no no no. I have the real answer. The real reason why dinosaurs no longer exist today. Pure truth here ladies and gentleman. You see… when God was just a baby, He thought “Hey! This Earth place looks pretty damn cool. Let’s make something to live there.” At first, the little micro biotical sea creatures were all He needed to amuse himself, then as He aged, and started to branch out.. bigger sea creatures, and amphibians were made. By the time He himself could walk, God looked down again and thought “Yeah… that land stuff needs more of these things, and let’s give ‘em legs!” So the very first mammals were made. Step three happened sometime after God entered into the threatening world of toddlers, and thought “Let’s make HUGE monsters that are green and slimy and EAT EACH OTHER!” Along come massive body weight, but pea-size shit-for-brains dinosaurs… using up way too much oxygen and living purely on survival instincts in a world still being tossed between kill-zone ice ages and intense volcanism. But even those got boring. So puberty slams Him in the balls… and God just wants to destroy things. He thinks Himself a rebel and slowly kills off all the huge eyesores. Gets stoned and forgets about the sharks, whales and alligators. Finally, God becomes an adult, and makes the very responsible and grown up decision, to create the next things in His image. Boom. Humanity. He gives us the ability to think, and we become self-aware, consequently fucking up His whole plan for complete domination and planet rule. Now I’m thinking He’s getting bored again. Either that or He’s just senile and can’t control his friend Mother Nature anymore. So She’s throwin earthquakes and tidal waves around all over the place, trying to jump into the power position as God fades away into a little corner and starts muttering senseless old-people stories to no one in particular.

there’s always that moment.

When the same trail I’ve walked everyday... drops into oblivion and I step off the ledge. That moment I realize I can’t hear my footsteps anymore, and everything is black. Or maybe white. Who can tell when you’re pit falling into nothingness? Colours are indeterminate, and useless. But look… even now, I’ve conned myself into writing that moment as some sort of ominous threat to familiarity. It’s not. Not really. Would I rather be back on the path, about to continue my daily traipse through the same old bullshit? Or would I rather fall victim to some blind-siding emotional cliff dive? Call me crazy, but life without risk… even if it’s risking all you’ve ever had, or will have again… sounds pretty pathetic to me. So keep your head up, keep your eyes straight ahead, and when that moment comes for you… don't cry because you might miss the constant echo of your feet hitting solid ground... smile because you're free to start again in the air... and find some new ground to walk, or crawl, or smash into later.