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.

Page-Turner

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

is now my wallpaper.

Literally.

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.

D1

I hate cats

I am not a fan of 1D

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

♥

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! 

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)! =)

Baby Boy

I miss you so bad.

 =