Saturday, March 28, 2015

Bag of SurPrizes

So I have finally returned the wallet packed with 5 figures in it.
It felt so good.
The kind of good other people wouldn't want to feel because apparently, they wanna stay "legal."
I call them "stealth."
I call this new bag "wealth."
The dude is the kindest.
Others, there's a whole new category they belong to.
This bag, the reward, though I never asked for it naturally, is one full of surprises; some unearthed, some yet to unfold.
Guess what: 1 week ago, my father wanted me to have for myself an unassuming laptop bag. My father is jobless and ill. Of course, the only thing he can afford his son is a wish. God answered.

The other emotional baggage I left behind? Marked non-existent. 

Monday, March 23, 2015

A Tale of Boon and Bane

BOON
Remember the wallet I found unattended? After almost a year without a single response (or seenzone trail) from its owner despite all my efforts to contact him, he's finally chanced upon my message on Facebook! After ONE YEAR!!!

And I am returning all the money to him. 

BANE
Guess what: also today, I asked someone to return the huge, huge, unimaginably huge amount of money I "lent" him for a very reasonable purpose. AND HE IS NEVER GIVING THE MONEY BACK. Shame. Legally, with no written agreement whatsoever, he can have it. That's all yours, 6-digit figures of your conscience. 

Truly a shame to know someone who's so shrewd his brain preys on other people's money. The fact he outwits his foster parent with working his way around expenses and bills, as he did me with faux "time deposit," means people who are lazy enough to earn their own money and are complacent with using their astuteness to subsist do exist. Such masterful work of art I never would want to draw myself learning. 

Such a selfless, classy act. True, your fate concludes you don't need a "best friend" to keep you company in your lonely hour. No one would dare rescue a know-it-all who can outwit his know-it-all self. They only come to you when they need your brain because your brain is so rich it can provide for itself the source of vaunting extravagance, self-righteousness, and larceny. You have yourself all to yourself that yourself must be too threatened by your other self. You are such a corporation of depredation. 

Oh and don't mistake your know-it-all self for conscience. Don't mistake your grand act of illusion for an ultimate consummation of the "law." Your benevolence for personal gain. Your punctilious ethical "guide" for your scrupulous margin of trickery. Your ulterior motive is by all means the reflection of your inferior morality. 

No wonder you live in that hollow manse. It teems with ego and subterfuge under the guise of a "good heart." I say "good heart" outside; empty and dark inside.

Of course, don't glorify my credulousness. I wasn't a fool. No, no, no, I'm not. Right from the get-go, I knew some "broken road" is being paved with handsome orchestration. I knew the moment he asked for the initial 6 figures even before it touched my very own hands that something dishonorable was taking place. The second installment of a much bigger sum passing me by just like that signaled a bigger deal of leer. As I disposed all these riches so did my respect for this person whom at first sight is an angel to many yet a broken one to me. I kept all these observations in. The next year of asking for it heard a meager "I've spent it (the time deposit)" reply, on which I have scorned without a word or objection. It was like being fully aware of standing on a rug ready to be pulled from under me any day.

There's a complex story behind this but it's all immaterial to how a person's character has absolutely revealed itself as unassumingly wicked. 

It's rather imprudent to be swayed by astrological renditions of reality. But boy were they eerily accurate all along. Had you chanced upon this ridiculously Delphic oeuvre published monthly by renowned astrologist Susan Miller, you'd easily glean an inkling on what's been happening in my life for the past months. I stopped dead at "someone who owes you money won't be able to pay you." 

What a clincher.

It's another year of renewed affirmation that the money is considered "lost."

It simply took me a lot of time to confront the truth I always knew and unveil the unimaginable brute in "this" person sheltered in avaricious bubble.

Oh what you can learn from "rich" people? They're up there because they like picking and stepping on people down here. They may say they're all legit and legally favored and shit; that's what they eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner - "bills" full of shit. 

And I thought you never had a sense of ambition. I was your "job," all the while. For the first time, you made me proud. I am your most successful project with your aspiration to be a teacher. I am learning big time from your wondrous lesson scheme plan.

You may have all the best 3 liars lawyers in the world on your side but that doesn't take away the fact na ikaw ay MukhAng Cash Zuper. Money doesn't change people; it reveals a person's true character.

"Kindness is priceless."


As of this writing, I have found a new friend and a new nemesis. A new pal who, out of nowhere, needs his money back and his one-year-old wallet's safe with me; and a new nemesis who, out of respect he's lost from and for himself, needs his soul back. 

Bitter and angry? Why me when I couldn't feel any more free?  
You disgust me. Your greed and non-fulfilment of a promise especially do.

Hitting all-time low?
It's you who are hoarding all these 6 figures in your elevator of dignity, going down with all the weight of your avarice.

What my pocket has lost, I can replenish. 
What your unwanted heart has (or wished to have but never had)? Well...be glad "wishes" are for free. Or you might need more 
6 figures from me just to satiate your fantasy.

This day is both a boon and a bane. The irony of ironies. 

You?

Who?
When?
Why?

This song's been long reserved in my engagement catalogue.
Curious who is destined to own it. 

Should "own," not "wait to be dedicated to"

Wonder who's D1.


Saturday, March 21, 2015

Point of Poignancy

I have laid my vulnerable self at some people's doors.

The Relevant.
The Wise.
The Omnipresent.

Not even what I dub "the best."

It was a "long howl" trip down marked rancour. 

Different responses. Some quite expected, some a disappointment. 
I just wanted a release, assuasive or otherwise. 

Such an untellable release that for the second time, I had to put off "Selma" midway. 
Sorry, Martin. The King cannot winnow out this abyssal battle within. May the third try's the charm.

I wonder when will gregarious come.

Play: "Can't Cry Hard Enough"

Friday, March 20, 2015

Muse-ic

My soundtracks to my past heartbreaks were by James Morrison, Dishwalla, Adele, and Sam Smith. 
Respec. Tive. Ly.
Done with that. 
This new chapter in life sees me going back to basics. 
I bet 100% of people who know me would fail guessing who has influenced and inspired my singing & songwriting since I was, what, in my sophomore year of high school. Ordinary People. Read My Mind. We Are The Wave. I Can. My Father's Son. Earthbound. 


He could be the secret answer to a lost password. Truth is, not a day goes by without me humming that sort of untitled familiar 90s tune somewhere in my head; not trying to squeeze a soulful belt only he could masterfully actualize; or garbling random words off his organic archive. He creeps into my subconscious too deep I cannot undo this incorporeal sonic coupling. He could have the perfect contour of vocal talent I never had. He is that much of an unfamiliar territory in my biography but otherwise the one I'd place in the same sentence with Stevie Wonder, Eric Benet, Mariah Carey, BoyzIIMen and that other guy who I feel is his voice's long lost brother - East 17's Brian Harvey. Wish I could be half as great as this underrated man. 

I feel guilty missing his latest milestone when he released another gem - ironically dubbed "Best Friend" in a time I felt I had no solid one. 2010 must've been the year I was totally out of it. Or in a new place myself. Sorry, man. I'm making it up to you by jacking up your play count in my iTunes. You gotta return this favor with a generous dose of music therapy, promise me. I wonder if you still sound the same 18 years since your holy genesis. What I wouldn't give to have a duet with you or be under your voice's spell in a meter or two.

Lord, bring my voice back. I wanna sing the Conner Reeves way.

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Page-Turner

Thanks to my Good friend for turning my attention to his current read.
THIS quotable!


is now my wallpaper.
Literally.



Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Soundtrack

That timely moment your boss plays from his room a song befitting your current sober mood. 
Just because recently I just called to...


















PS: Thanks boss for playing Stevie Wonder. 
My all-time favorite...
Even though you've not an idea
what I'm going through right now.
I love you for playing heaven to my ears.

This is Jack Skellington Talking

This is the earliest I'm saying goodbye. People always find me "nice" or a "good man" but why do I often end up with empty hands? Or heart. This is no good time to go all-mawkish. It's crunch time at work. It's crunch time for a new chapter in life. It's catch-up time with dreams. 

I need to take a pause and reflect. I wanna be somewhere else. Zap out of this reality. Take a peek from the outside. Somehow, I want to do this with someone. Could be my mom who's still ignoring me lately (sorry, Ma. I promise I will apologize the biggest way I could). Could be my ex whose insights never fail to enlighten me. Could be a new friend whose wits rival mine and sensibility match mine with a greater grasp of a wised up life. Could be with my young self when I was still unscathed.

There's something about this new year that's both a blessing and a curse. This push-and-pull is tearing me apart and keeping me grounded at the same time. Lemons abound; so does poison. Daisies too and such piquant spikies. 

Thing is, I can't cry. Can't seem to cry. It's there and not. Have I gone dry? Definitely not numb. But it's right there. Deep, deep inside. Trapped. Unarmed and too weak to claw its way out. Can I use my lunch time to well up? 

It also doesn't help that I wanna sing my heart out yet I am ill. I am feeling something in my ears, nose and throat that's gravely alarming me. It's been preventing me to sing. To sing well in the gigs. I hope it's not cancer. I have been planning to consult a doctor. But I'm either fearful of the truth or of misery. Been going on for 3 months now. Maybe it's all these negative emotions bottled up, manifesting in my throat, telling me "you can't cry because you never wanted to. We will never let you henceforth." Or the other way around. 

I have a new book. I wanna get started with it.
I want a new book. To write one. 

Am I going mad? Because I want to keep talking with mere ears to listen, eyes to reassure, arms to comfort, and mouth to stay meaningfully shut. I am so weird I find barely no one to qualify. Probly because I am too picky with and sensitive to people's responses. There's a certain way I want to be responded to. Not that I detest a quick rejoinder or prefer an obtainable joiner.

I recently deleted a reply to a blog. Note that I never liked erasing comments. What's said is said. But I retracted out of respect for somebody's privacy. It's another first for me. Blogger to blogger. My current, old self to my young self in somebody's person. I must be going mad. 

I have a red wine at my new place. I wanna swig it during lunch till I return ruddy for work. But that's indecorous. I am tempted to have even a little taste of Bohae, my new favorite pal. It's not to rebel against propriety but to conform to healthy sentimental exhibition. I think. Or I'd like to think. I look cuter inebriated. And the "tears" inside seem to be as gratified.

This is "flirting with kristopersnickety's mind" at its finest. This is Jack Skellington taking over. But I refuse to concede. I'll desist from this mental disease and self-destructive decease.


Monday, March 16, 2015

D1

I hate cats


I am not a fan of 1D



but the more I hate them, the more I....


















Saturday, March 14, 2015

The Only Pi Day in this Lifetime

Should we celebrate?
I'm just glad my Friday the 13th yesterday wasn't as bad as my Friday the 13th last February. 
In fact, yesterday was one of my most blessed. 
I even won a raffle, albeit a small amount, at least, it was the biggest up for grabs. 
Not to mention pay day, new milestone, a birthday celebration, and a new book from a very good friend. 
Yesterday was worth a celebration more than it is today.
Hallelujah! 
Kam-PI! 

Friday, March 13, 2015

Face The Book

Time to Leave Facebook and 
Live to Face the Book.

Thanks to my pretty, witty friend for this Gift (with the capital G!) Congrats too on your Garage (with the uppercase G!) Mag feature (looking fly, as usual)! =)


Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Song Of My Life

Favorite Brit Singer + Favorite R&B Crooner + Favorite Song 
= Theme Song of My Life


Monday, March 9, 2015

Define Success: Failure

A big yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, and YES to me!
The writer of this article is not me but we share the same formula =)

I look this way today because of a grave heartbreak.
I become pickier with friends today because of a betrayal.
I tread a new career path today because of an unappreciative job before.
I once got less than what I could afford a toothpaste to my name in my bank account.
I was once perched near the top but "near" is as unacceptable as falling flat altogether.
I admittedly am a slapdash decision maker, I gamble a lot, I move 2 steps forward, 5 steps back but hey, there are times I leap mountains ahead.

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Torrenthon

Truth be told, I prefer watching movies alone.


"Deux Jours, Une Nuit" displayed power even without melodramatizing the already precarious situation thanks largely to Marion Cotillard's formidable performance. The screencap below alone is such a dramatic spectacle to behold. She's a natural.


Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Heartbreaker

It breaks my heart to hear someone bawl nearby. 
This lesbo couple beside me is breaking up bigtime. 
And some cellphone messages seem central to this row. 
Nakakaawa. 

Sakto #NowPlaying: James Morrison


Monday, March 2, 2015

Platonic

Have you ever been platonically enamored? No malice, no BS. 
Sheer friendship you look forward to cherishing on your every waking day.
Because you connect. 
Outright. 
Same page, same wavelength. 
Fun. All-GV.