Speed of Sound

Coldplay

How long before I get in?
Before it starts, before I begin?
How long before you decide?
Before I know what it feels like?
Where To, where do I go?
If you never try, then you'll never know.
How long do I have to climb,
Up on the side of this mountain of mine?

Look up, I look up at night,
Planets are moving at the speed of light.
Climb up, up in the trees,
every chance that you get,
is a chance you seize.
How long am I gonna stand,
with my head stuck under the sand?
I'll start before I can stop,
before I see things the right way up.

All that noise, and all that sound,
All those places I got found.
And birds go flying at the speed of sound,
to show you how it all began.
Birds came flying from the underground,
if you could see it then you'd understand?

Ideas that you'll never find,
All the inventors could never design.
The buildings that you put up,
Japan and China all lit up.
The sign that I couldn't read,
or a light that I couldn't see,
some things you have to believe,
but others are puzzles, puzzling me.

All that noise, and all that sound,
All those places I got found.
And birds go flying at the speed of sound,
to show you how it all began.
Birds came flying from the underground,
if you could see it then you'd understand,
ah when you see it then you'll understand?

All those signs, I knew what they meant.
Some things you can invent.
Some get made, and some get sent,
Ooh?
Birds go flying at the speed of sound,
to show you how it all began.
Birds came flying from the underground,
if you could see it then you'd understand,
ah, when you see it then you'll understand?

13th of September, Let Me Remember...

One more hour to go and this eventful day is about to end its metaphysical state and charter to the land of memories forever encapsuled in a frozen state, unreal, illusion, yet will breathe more life than the actual living world. Reality, but a segway that crosses between the now and the known, and carries with it encapsuled memories to serve as both vice and vicar as we become the saint and the sinner. Forever locked in a deathdefying tango. Forever locked in a passionate embrace in a small room of coldplay's choice. Forever, in passion lain, soft kisses are the language of the free soul and the bleeding heart. Unending. Splashes of white and red. Drops of beer and ashes on the street floor. Burn the morning sky with its blazing, golden banner. It is ours, my friend. The day is ours. As real and surreal as a fragile belief. Let it echo on to the halls of our eternity. A memory.

Hello! This is me. will you look inside my life? feel free.

barely there

There was a time when i can write blogs upon blogs from a single notion.

Now i can barely create a status message.

Now all the words i use are quotes from historical people.

Sitting there, thoughts swimming in someone else's words.

I sit in my seat day in, day out.

Wondering where wonder went.

I'm barely there.

Chapter 30

Life, the predictable. Life, the unexpected. Life, the frivolous space of unconfined happenstance. And we, smimming in the middle.

.............................

As predicted, i landed on the unexpected.

where art thou, thy meaning, i knoweth not?

I lost my train of thought...

I was writing something a few minutes ago then the computer stopped on me... haaay... well, back to senseless blogging...

I remember i was writing something about running all over the metro these past few weeks looking for solace. Now that the momentum is gone, i'll just have to do with this nonstructured, nonsensical outline form of a blog. boring. anyway... i've been going all over, meeting old friends, eating everywhere, drinking everything and doing seemingly spontaneous stuffs to the point its predictable. but alas, the closest bit that contained solace was a big burger from brother's. so sad. when the defintition of one's happiness is contained between two pieces of bread, swimming with caramelized onions and a half-pound slab of meat. now there is little comfort in this world for the likes of me. and i, my somber self, am stuck with me. last night was dreadful. I had no gimiks (people where off to God knows where), no pc (crashed a week ago), no excrements (the store was out of booze), and no sleep (insomnia... though i finally slept after hours of staring into space). There and then i realized i've fallen into the bad habit of dependence. I have to come off it... End of Chapter 1, switching to Side B...

i was supposed to write something meaningful... but passion was over-ridden by a non-cooperative computer. that's my problem now ain't it? passion was over-ridden by senseless things.

where is my passion? i can see it on the horizon. is it coming or going? i'll never know. its chasing somebody, that i know. my passion has gone someplace that has no internet connection, no network coverage, and no means of transportation. I guess i should start walking towards it then. where will it lead me? hopefully to the start of some grand adventure larger than me and my life.

Through the Looking Glass

Lewis Carroll

A boat, beneath a sunny sky
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July -

Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear
Pleased a simple tale to hear -

Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.

Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:

Ever drifting down the stream -
Lingering in the golden gleam -
Life, what is it but a dream?

Excerpts from the Preface of Sylvie and Bruno

"... As the years went on, I jotted down, at odd moments, all sorts of odd ideas, and fragments of dialogue, that occured to me--who knows how?--with a transitory suddenness that left me no choice but either to record them then and there, or to abandon them to oblivion. Sometimes one could trace to their source these random flashes of thought--as being suggested by the book one was reading, or struck from out from the 'flint' of one's own mind by the 'steel' of a friend's chance remark--but they had also a way of their own, of occurring, a propos of nothing--specimens of that hopelessly illogical phenomenon, 'an effect without a cause'..."

-- Lewis Carroll

Of Reading and Writing

'Of all that is written I love only that which the writer wrote with his blood. Write with blood, and thou wilt learn that blood is spirit.
It is not easily possible to understand other people's blood. I hate the reading idlers.
He who knoweth the reader doth nothing more for the reader. Another century of readers - and the spirit itself will stink.
That everybody is allowed to learn to read spoileth in the long run not only writing but thinking.
Once spirit was God, then it became man, and now it is becoming mob.
He who writeth in blood and apophthegms seeketh not to be read, but to be learnt by heart.
In the mountains the shortest way is from summit to summit: but for that thou needest long legs. Apophthegms shall be summits, and they who are spoken unto, great ones and tall.
The air rarified and pure, danger near, and the spirit full of a gay wickedness: these agree well enough.
I desire to have goblins round me, for I am brave. Courage that dispelleth ghosts createth goblins for itself, - courage desireth to laugh.
I no longer feel as ye do: this cloud which I see beneath me, that blackness and heaviness at which I laugh, - that is your thunder-cloud.
Ye look upward when longing to be exalted. And I look downward because I am exalted.
Which of you can at the same time laugh and be exalted?
He who strideth across the highest mountains laugheth at all tragedies whether of the stage or of life...
I could believe only in God who would know how to dance.
And when I saw my devil, I found him earnest, thorough, deep, solemn: he was the spirit of gravity, - through him all things fall.
Not through wrath but through laughter one slayeth. Arise! let us slay the spirit of gravity!
I learned to walk: now I let myself run. I learned to fly: now I need no pushing to move me from the spot.
Now I am light, now I fly, now I see myself beneath myself, now a God danceth through me.'
Thus spake Zarathustra.

- Friedrich Nietzsche

What's with my name...

Etymology

"Jordan"

Origin / Heritage: Hebrew
Meaning: to descend, to flow
Gender: Masculine & Feminine

Usage: English, Biblical

Pronounced: JOR-dən (English)

From the name of a river flowing between the countries of Jordan and Israel. The river's name in Hebrew is יַרְדֵן (Yarden), and it is derived from יָרַד (yarad) meaning "descend" or "flow down". In the New Testament John the Baptist baptized Jesus Christ in its waters, and it was adopted as a personal name after crusaders brought back water from the river to baptize their children. The name died out after the Middle Ages, but was revived in the 19th century. As a surname, it is borne by former basketball star Michael Jordan (1963-).

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"FELICIANO" m Italian, Spanish, Portuguese form of the Roman name Felicianus, which was itself derived from the Roman name FELIX.

felix: Latin for "lucky, happy"

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So my name means to flow with luck and happiness... Hahahaha... Kinda like me, yeah, why not? Its nice to know I am my name.

Mad World

Tears for Fears

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
And their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
'Cos I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very
Mad World
Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
Made to feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me

wondering why

I wonder: how come everytime my heart beats for someone, they are driven away?
That everytime my lips speak of a name, they always fall short? That everytime I am captivated, she disappears from me?
I wonder relentlessly. I wonder fervently. I wonder, my dying words.
I wonder when, and how. I wonder at things that ought to be or could have been. I wonder til the senses are blurred and reality but a mist turning to a whiff of smoke.
Let me be lost in wonder. Let me live upon a mere thought. Let me see the light through a pinhole. And magnify the perception tenfolds in my imagination. Let it live, breathe, grow in my head. For there is much in reality I cannot attain, let them be real enough for my imaginary hands. Maybe there, in a faraway land, in a portion of mindscape, that thought would branch to the real.
I wonder if it is all possible.
And I wonder, still, some more.

Oo

Up Dharma Down

Di mo lang alam
Naiiisip kita
Baka sakali lang maisip mo ako
Di mo lang alam
Hanggang sa gabi inaasam makita kang muli

Nagtapos ang lahat sa di inaasahang pahanon
At ngayon ako'y iyong iniwan
Luhaan, sugatan, 'di mapakinabangan
Sana'y nagtanong ka lang
Kung 'di mo lang alam
Sana'y nagtanong ka lang
Kung 'di mo lang alam

Ako'y iyong nasaktan
Baka sakali lang maisip mo naman
Hindi mo lang alam
Kay tagal na panahon
Ako'y nandirito pa rin hanggang ngayon para sa'yo

Lumipas mga araw na ubod ng saya
'Di pa rin nagbabago ang aking pagsinta
Kung ako'y nagkasala patawad na sana
Puso kong pagal ngayon lang nagmahal

'Di mo lang alam
Ako'y iyong nasaktan
Baka sakali lang maisip mo naman
Puro s'ya na lang
Sana'y ako naman
'Di mo lang alam
Ika'y minamasdan
Sana'y iyong mamalayang hindi mo lang pala alam

'Di mo lang alam
Kahit tayo'y magkaibigan lang
Bumabalik ang lahat sa tuwing nagkukulitan
Baka sakali lang maisip mo naman
Ako'y nandito lang
Hindi mo lang alam
Matalino ka naman

Kung ikaw at ako
Ay tunay na bigo sa laro na ito
Ay dapat bang sumuko
Sana hindi ka na lang pala aking nakilala
Kung alam ko lang ako'y masasaktan ng ganito
Sana'y nakinig na lang ako sa nanay ko

'Di mo lang alam
Ako'y iyong nasaktan
Baka sakali lang maisip mo naman
Puro s'ya na lang
Sana'y ako naman
'Di mo lang alam
O, ika'y minamasdan
Sana iyo'y mamalayang hindi mo lang pala alam
Oooooooo

Malas mo
Ikaw ang natipuhan ko
Di mo lang alam
Ako'y iyong nasaktan

Wishful Thinking

Duncan Sheik

Listen to the waves,
Everything communicates
Will it ever be
Anything more than wishful thinking?

Oh no there you go
Looked away and missed the show
how much wasted time
Will you survive?

Feel the blades of grass
How it brings you back
it will always be
Only as green as you can see

Oh no there you go
Looked away and missed the show
how much wasted time
Will you survive?
Oh yeah fooled again,
I don't know how and I don't know when
Not much else to blame
But wishful thinking

Little breakdowns
In coastal towns.
They come suddenly
Crashing over you.
They come easily.
I'm falling through the skies
And frozen places

Oh no there you go
Looked away and missed the show
how much wasted time
Will you survive?
Oh yeah fooled again,
I don't know how and I don't know when
Not much else to blame
But wishful thinking

And I try to realize
That I needn't look any further
the whole of the universe
Is plain to see
And I try not to rely
On another world or the future
The whole of the universe is a mystery

And it gets me over
Yeah, it gets me over
and it gets me over
Yeah, it gets me over

Flow, My tears, the Policeman Said

Flow my tears, fall from your springs!
Exiled forever let me mourn;
Where night's black bird her sad infamy sings,
There let me live forlorn.

from Philip K. Dick

Arms of an Angel

Sarah Mclachlan


Spend all your time waiting for that second chance
For the break that will make it ok
There's always some reason to feel “not good enough?"
And it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction, oh beautiful release
Memories seep from my veins
They may be empty and weightless, and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight

In the arms of an Angel, fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here

So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back
The storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack
It don't make no difference, escaping one last time
It's easier to believe
In this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness
That brings me to my knees

In the arms of an Angel, far away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
In the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here...

On The Death of Anne Bronte

by Charlotte Bronte


THERE 's little joy in life for me,
And little terror in the grave ;
I've lived the parting hour to see
Of one I would have died to save.


Calmly to watch the failing breath,
Wishing each sigh might be the last ;
Longing to see the shade of death
O'er those belovèd features cast.


The cloud, the stillness that must part
The darling of my life from me ;
And then to thank God from my heart,
To thank Him well and fervently ;


Although I knew that we had lost
The hope and glory of our life ;
And now, benighted, tempest-tossed,
Must bear alone the weary strife.

Workaholism

Distractions. Everyone needs them. Who the hell wants to be chained in life every second of the day? Distractions. There are thousands out there. Pick your drug. Most my age rely on games to be sane. Basketball, Warcraft, Xbox, Halo, Magic, whatever. Others resort to automobiles, cellphones, clubbing, and all that nonsense. Hell, I don't have to name it all, I just want to point out the most practical (and most destructive in some point) of them all: Work.
Work can get your mind of life like no other game can. Work is binding, is controlling and the more you have, the less time you live. Work is an addiction and is very addictive. The thing about it is it is a need, not just some petty want. It is desire, it is fulfillment. Work is as necessary as food, more sought after than learning (the whole point of education is "to work" anyway), the life support of a family, and the means to get whatever the hell you want (the more you work, the closer you get the things you want right?).
I'm not really complaining about work. Actually I'm just assessing how addicted I am to it (when I have it, of course). Its like getting drunk for me, I'm so pre-occupied that I forget the problems around me, i stop thinking of the past and the future, and just be completely immersed with what I have to do at that moment. Like a stone.
Sobriety is a killer to an empty person. Fill it up with another and you get a totally new being. With alcohol, you fill that person up just for the night, fill a person with work and s/he's gonna live it as his/her life. Then what will that person be? A meaningless machine that needs work so as to have justification of a non-significant life. So that one can say one's life has a purpose, a direction and a goal. Should work be our goal and ambitions? Is acquiring the meaning of life?

We work to live, but we should not live to work.

let it fall

Sometimes I grab life with both hands, squeeze it tight, and when no one is looking, drop it from a twenty-three story building just to see it splat on the pavement...

its not destruction that drives me, but the notion of seeing every aspect of life. different perspectives give different results, and as a thinking, feeling human, i explore all ends. everything this life has to offer, all the blessed good to the down-trodden shit. what's the point in living in a gilded cage? what's the point in watching life in the sidelines? what's the point of being afraid of getting hurt, shot and battered? life gives me an opportunity to find myself, and i'm making use of every second of it. now i got my motivation to seize life by the balls. to tread the world and see how far i can go this time without anyone's inspiration and direction. no more father-figures, dream woman, god-searching and out-of-this-world-ambitions. none of that "what will i do now?" or "what'll happen if...?" no pretense. no distractions. i'll have none of it.

simple breathing will be my motor. and the notion that I'll meet God one of these days.

november

Its 5am...
sitting.. smoke.. stillness in the air.. calm, quiet, cool sensation running across the ozone of this room. light laugh the gentle breeze, cadence the soul. Ah, the immortal blessed running through and through. Ah, the majesty leaves a trail of blaze of fiery gold. Title divine, sordid is mine, ember the embrace of the thirteen ghosts that haunts the echoing halls. Ah, the poetry of it all. Ah, me, oh life.

----o----

In my friend's house now. everybody's asleep. tick tock said the clock. tick tock sleeps to the clock. winding down the rest of the night, in a couple more throws and the sun shall bring another day to wind down. winding down. oh its Eheads later. ooohhh... the funness of it all. rise and shine world, many a miss you.