in the past few weeks, the weather has been annoyingly unpredictable: peak-of-summer sunny radiance in the morning, then sad, gray rains in the afternoon. i'd have much rather preferred real rain, with big, fat droplets that apologize for nothing, than this shy, slothful pouring.

this morning, the day being the droopy kind described above, i was rushing to catch a cab to work (like i usually do, oh, about three times a week).

i saw kyle again playing outside, his yaya nearby. he's the little boy i mentioned in a previous post. i haven't seen him in weeks. and he's not so little anymore. but his eyes are still adorably small, and his hair still fell straight and heavy like that Dutch Boy drawing.

i never saw him holding toys before. but now, he has obviously graduated into more "mature" toys, like plastic armalites. you should have seen him terrorizing this poor cat that looked strangely like a cousin of our Boy Astig.

as adults are wont to do when there are little ones around, i made a face. and mockingly berated him for "shooting" said cat as i was running to look for a cab.

he turned around and pointed his gun at me, half-skipping, half-runnning as he tried to chase and "shoot" me at the same time, face deadly intent.

it was difficult but i outran him, laughing as i slid inside Lulu Love TWX 631 and hearing his toy gun rattling arrogantly in the background.

and in my head there's a beatles song that's playing, something with the words "here comes the sun...little darlin'..."

(from August 23, 2006)

(blame Pats and Djong for this rambling ;p )

It's a dream I've been nurturing since I started dutifully following Ian Wright's exploits on Lonely Planet. We are now in the year 2008, and that was back in 1998--10 years and still an unrequited love. You wouldn't think I've been harboring such notions just by looking at my grande Starbucks tea frappe and perfectly applied eyeliner.

My friend Eric, whose now in Cambodia, laments the absence of the ubiquitous chain in his new home city, yet he makes me salivate by announcing that massage places litter the streets like 7-11s.

I want to visit him in Cambodia, Pats in Singapore, dear Ryan in South Korea, Rony, Gerwin and Charlie in Singapore, life partner Louie, sexy Ems and Lifebunny in Hong Kong, Jon in Spain, Janne in Finland, Donna in the UK, Graeme in Scotland, Dwayne in Indiana, Yas in Dubai, maybe Emi in Romania, Essi wherever she is at the moment...

During the bad in-betweeners of my life, I swung from blaming family and circumstances, to blaming myself--both in highly passionate ways that boggle the mind.

Still, there is a shining nugget I managed to pick up--strength. Life's hell-bent ways gave me tree-trunk-like sea legs, and I want to keep using them.

Now that life is being quite kind and cushy to me, I can't help but look for the imbalance that only a churning ocean can provide. I long for the comfort that I've always found in constant change.

Instead of expecting the unexpected, I don't expect at all. Deal me what cards you will, and with those, I'll play like a loony. I'll probably even wager (and lose) everything, yet find redemption in smiling like a drunken sailor.

In life, I can strategize, plan and mind-f**k like the best of them. But I'd rather I didn't. I really would much prefer to be thrown somewhere and I'll be happy to learn how I'll deal with it. I can't imagine a purer heaven. Give me something and some things never to be defined. Give me the raucous, the sweaty and the revolting. Challenge me in ways that will make me rant and spit and give birth to strange, unwieldy energies.

I have always believed that by traveling, my sea legs will find happiness.

I want to talk to different and differing people, be forced to eat strange food, work for my breakfast...

You know what they say about potential? I can do it, therefore I must do it.

Damn the comfort zone and its accompanying delusions. I am dying to have a taste of the biggest possible perspective by constantly being in motion.

I want to see The Frames live in Ireland, Dave Matthews Band in Virginia and join the Burning Man community at least once. There are also fairy conventions in various part of this weird, wonderful world. Yes, I want to be there, too.

Sometimes, I think I'm too old to start backpacking, Couchsurfing and going on trips that plenty of those half my age have probably already enjoyed. But I reckon I can always lie and say i'm only 27.

Until when shall I keep to where the Starbucks stores are aplenty?

Boom-de-ah-dah!

a major reason why i envy people my age living in countries where playfulness and a true sense of fun have space to breathe...

Of course, New York is it...

and London won't be left behind. they did this last year, too.

i asked this group before if we can implement a game in Manila (yeah, yeah, fat chance) and i got a response from Eevil Midget of their Shadow Government, with side comments about how his Supreme Commander and Mustache Commander have preferences for strip clubs. I refrained from emailing my well-composed fire-and-brimstone response.

ah, well. someday, soon. i can feel it in my twinkle toes.