We all live in a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine, yellow submarine...   -The Beatles





A part of me has died. I am swamped by the waves of mediocrity. I struggle to revive myself, but the inertia borne of long-standing conformity prohibits me. There shall be retribution. One day...


If to the fleeting hour I say
'Remain, so fair thou art, remain!'
Then bind me with your fatal chain,
For I will perish in that day.
'Tis I for whom the bell shall toll,
Then you are free, your service done,
For me the clock shall fail, to ruin run,
And timeless night descend upon my soul.
    - Goethe, Faust, the bargain with Mephistopheles


Sift through my mind...

Arrow of Scarlet Ruin
    accompany the wilderness tracker Anuis Drake Scarletarrow, Night Caste Exalted, as he travels through the world of Creation and rediscovers his past

Quiet Times with God
    a page for daily bible reflection

Stages of Rebirth...

Author's note: all the artwork on this page is mine, unless otherwise stated. I don't believe in copyrights so go right ahead and use em. Just tell me about it though, and try to be sparing on linking, snapfish might flag me for exceeding bandwidth.
   

<< August 2004 >>
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To blogly go where no one has gone before...

a josephine hopeful wanderer
aileen ... my light...
anatalia ana the pooh
andrea the dog pound
anj purveyor
ayen boulevard avenue
ben stormwrite
carmen chainreaction
cha absolutely not
cyril a beautiful mind
dara strangefire
gen every hour...
gyll xhybrid17
halcyon contradiction
ivy life as i live it
joy backspaced
kalag kalag hell is made of...
lady lazarus poetic art
maybelle i'm bored
myla twisted solitude
moks silent screams...
neng ... alleged narcissist
owen the stew chronicles
ramonster 11am...
romel soulsearching
sam chronicles of sam...
sancho sancho benavides
sancho the mad tea party
shiro journeys
sj lugaw madness club
t. tulala-tulele
toi luna
tony outside looking in...
zane fell out of love...



Call me Ishmael... or rather, call me when there's something I can contribute. I like a good book anytime; over a cup of coffee, while I'm in the shower, while I'm chasing the cat to get its tail between the jaws of a laundry clip. I believe in socialism, I believe in capitalism. I believe in exorcism, I don't believe in demons. I am a walking contradiction of sorts, always looking over my shoulder just to make sure there's no dentist around. You would call me friend, I will call you by your name, and only when I need you. I believe in the rationality of man, but only when it's convenient. There are times when i paint, just before I slice the onions to sauté. I spend my time hanging upside down on the sofa, with a good book in hand. I never stop thinking, except while I'm sleeping, and even then, I still do. I hate sleep. It's Time's ultimate thief. But don't remind me of that when I'm sleepy. I was an atheist, now I'm a Christian. I'm an Objective Realist, but I believe in God. I've met Him and took Him to eat at a gourmet burger shop down the corner. It's gone now. I fed Him fries and a large Coke. He fed me with Life. I don't believe in religion. It's slave morality, the moral code of the looters. I believe in relationship; and reality. I will ask you to walk with me, so that you'd notice my pink Chuck Taylor's, and then I'd leave you if you cannot keep up. I'll give you something to help you on your way though, but only if you ask. You'll call. I won't look back. I never look back; except when there's the threat of a dentist. Call me Ishmael... call me tomorrow.


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Monday, August 30, 2004
feedback...

i've lost 1/7th of my world. my ears have finally given up, at least one ear has. subjecting it to frequent and often excessively tuned up rock music effectively does that, i guess.

i have a question. why is it that when a rock band practices, it has to do so with the volume knob on the amplifiers cranked to maximum?

so now i go around with this constant ringing in my right ear. it is like the sound of... er... crickets on a cold, moonlit night coupled with the static that you get switching between radio stations, with a healthy dose of amplifier feedback mixed in. soundwaves do not just pass from one ear to another now, not like how they did when i was listening to my parents dole out their lengthy pieces of advice about growing up. i wonder how they are now? but that's a question to be answered in another year or so.

i now am a certified sound carrier. my right ear can collect the extraneous sound from this one place, add it to the cacophony that it already lugs around, lugs it around some more,  and spreads it out through my brain for ... me to listen to.

or is this what they actually mean by a deafening silence?

Out of the ashes of bennet at 06:21 am
 

Wednesday, August 25, 2004
alay-lakad...

i find it incongruous to find an alay-lakad plate on a vehicle... very...

Out of the ashes of bennet at 12:06 am
 

Sunday, August 22, 2004
traffic jam blues...

sometimes a traffic jam is good. it provides an interesting view on how other people react to frustrating circumstances like this.  well, at least what i can gather from their faces anyway.

i used to roll down my window whenever i'd be stuck in traffic, light a cigarette, smile, and start looking inside the vehicles around me. over there to the right is the quintessential business man, sitting in the back of a volvo with clear windows, all suits and ties looking at his gold-plated watch every now and then, giving instructions to his driver. to my left is the tail end of a bus. a mustachioed bald guy is leaning out the window and staring for as far as the horizon to determine the length of the traffic jam, no doubt willing with his gaze and muttered curses for the bus to move. good luck, thinks i. behind him is a young man driving a honda civic with gaudy colors, high spoiler in the back, chrome plated wheel rims, and a cacophony of bass booms, high pitched squealing, incomprehensible lyrics and intermittent repetitions of "uh... uh..." emanating from it. he's wearing his visor-cap backwards, head bobbing to and fro to the 'music,' i could see the silver chain on his neck flap about his oversized jersey. he no doubt wears a pair of pants the size of a blanket, i mused. there's a sour-faced woman in the toyota behind him with four kids jumping around the backseat. directly behind me is a pair of women laughing and talking. behind the business man is a vehicle with privacy windows, but i could just see the driver using his cellphone through the lesser tint of the windshield. directly in front of me is a utility van with a sticker on its rear door that says "Caution! I Drive Like You Do."

not last night though. seems like driving from Marikina to Bicutan via C5 is not a good idea on friday nights. especially coming from band practice, your arms shaking, your eyes half-blind from the salty sweat that washed over it earlier, and your car without air conditioning. good thing i thought to escape it via Shaw then Edsa. otherwise, seeing as how the cars were almost immobile at the South superhighway exit of C5, i'd still be stuck in that traffic jam today.

Out of the ashes of bennet at 01:05 am
1 arose from ashes...  

Wednesday, August 18, 2004
triple x...

there's a survey running around the team right now, asking dum dum questions about your ex's and stuff. fascinating how some people are actually enlivened by the idea, moving around in their chairs, swapping stories, exchanging advice and whatnots.

the behaviours of hew-mons are particularly interesting to watch in social interactions like these. but as they laugh and banter and tell their jokes, i wonder what actually goes in their minds. are they hiding behind that facade of uproarious laughter and teeth flashing all their memories of how they became fragile and broken once?

hmmm...

a passing thought... and then i go back to my game.

Out of the ashes of bennet at 06:23 am
 

Tuesday, August 17, 2004
while eating siopao at 711...

your absence sings to my mind,
   landing gently as a butterfly on rose petals,
yet it bears the weight of a hundred tears,
   that quiver and shake and never dry.

it floats away, a homeless note,
   chasing after your image,
the vision of which, wavers in the shaded streets,
   and leaves the tune without a home.

you have been gone far too long,
   and your shadow ne'er darkened this dark alley,
do you fain continue this journey,
   into obscurity and never return?

Out of the ashes of bennet at 03:41 am
5 arose from ashes...  

vanity...

why is it that when a man becomes vain, he becomes so to the exclusion of any other label? is it due to the one-trackedness of the male thought process? or is it because males bury their mate calling instincts so deep that when it finally breaks out...

just an idle thought.

Out of the ashes of bennet at 01:05 am
1 arose from ashes...  

Sunday, August 15, 2004
please submit your bags for inspection...

a friend of mine said that the level of security measures varies directly with the length of hair. let me call this Shiro's law of Inspections.

i find it interesting to notice how our bungling boys in white and blue waive their usual cursory inspection when the object of their attentions is me. gone is the poke and wishy-wash motion of their wandlike inspection piece like they were stirring some sort of broth. instead, it turns into a poke-poke, wishy-wash, wishy-wash, poke-poke-poke motion... and they actually look inside my bags too.

i don't mind. i find it amusing even. ours is a society that thrives upon stereotypes. a society which finds that long-haired, torn-denimed, scowl-faced, pink-shoed gringo a terorista. tough luck for me i guess. can't say i'm immune to stereotyping myself. at least i only have one - puny humans.

sometimes i could not help thinking that there should be a law to have all men grow their hair past shoulder length. that should reduce the threat of bombings and terrorist attacks. but then, i wouldn't be an oddity, would i not? when that time comes i guess, shiro's law would be falsified and we'd need to create a new one.

but then again, these guys wouldn't recognize terrorist paraphernalia if it bit them in the nose.

Out of the ashes of bennet at 02:04 am
 

Tuesday, August 10, 2004
rack your minds..

here i am, staring at the pieces of paper i've posted on the walls of my cubicle, blankly. there was this one thought that i had earlier. i have forgotten how it went though. rack, tack, my mind a weather-worn shack, all is black... crap. cannot remember.

ugh. nevermind. it's all lost in the wells again. or maybe it never sank in.

and what was the tune that Bugs Bunny used to hum when she was building her fortress against Yosemite Sam's attacks? does Bugs even have a gender? what is it with carrots and rabbits?

is Goofy really a dog? why does it drive a car?

am i being anally-retentive in wondering about these?

Out of the ashes of bennet at 10:00 pm
1 arose from ashes...  

Saturday, August 07, 2004
today...

bennet's official schedule for the day....

































i should change this.

Out of the ashes of bennet at 11:18 pm
4 arose from ashes...  

Thursday, August 05, 2004
look at me...

is it my fault that you cannot reach my level of transcendence?

if you are pining for one who would enact the machinations of the unwashed masses, then go right ahead and seek among them.

it will hurt me deeply, for i can be hurt,  more than i will ever show.

i do love you. but you see nothing except your own blindness.

Out of the ashes of bennet at 11:43 pm
5 arose from ashes...  

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