Sulking

So here's Noitora peeking at you. I have a feeling my blog has become like an exposé of my ennui-inspired doings. He looks sort of happy, though. I wish I could share that with him. Whatever he's smiling about.

These are the moments when all the happy thoughts I could possibly think of won't work its magic on me. So help me God.  

I have a paper and an exam to accomplish in less than 24 hours. I need to get a grip. A good one. Somebody slap me. *sulks*

Spitting Fire

So after a looong time, at last I tried to catch up again with Air Gear Manga. And Spitfire, Flame King, was just awesomesome these recent scanlated chapters. So I tried to do a somesomething about his awesomeness, but this is as far as I can go for now. I'm trying to knit things in between diagnostic tests, exams, meeting up with relatives from far far away and whatnots. Maybe there's not enough excuse for me, but at least I tried. I think he still looks pretty much like Spitfire, right? Oh oh, my favorite filtering tool is anistropic diffuse tool. It makes things uhm, look a little smoother, or at least to my eyes. If only something like that actually happens in reality, then I guess things'd go about different. But, nah. I don't want to care anyway. 

For everyone interested about Air Gear, it's a Manga about Air Treks and Storm Riders and funny cool characters with conflicting idealisms - by Oh! Great. Uhm, you can click the picture above to visit the site of the scanlating team where you can direct download recent chapters.  But that'll be it for now. My therapy for the day - a comforting amazement over Spitfire the Flame King. Good night everyones. Stay sanes and try nots to gets entangled too muches in your dreams. Ja!

Coloring Takeshi

Yamamoto Takeshi of Katekyo Hitman Reborn

This won’t be my first coloring feat. (You can click the pic to see the original picture, if I made a good difference or if I destroyed it. lol!). But since I’m posting it, it means I am currently avoiding killing my time with stressful things.

KHR (Katekyo Hitman Reborn) is my current interesting read. For people who dig Japanese Manga who have not yet heard of this, you guys ought to check this out. It’s filled with stomach-aching humor, plus cool characters. The art is not bad, too. And Reborn is at par with Jason Bourne with a twist of Don Vito Corleone. Okay, that may be an exaggeration. No. I take it back, that may be an understatement. Just check it out. 

Enjoy! 

Girl like no other

       Bianca and the heart she heaved in me.

       Of all the words and phrases and whatnots that I can think about describing a person, it’ll have to be Bianca I’d never run out of and at the same time, it’ll have to be her whom words will never be enough to describe.

        On the first day of enrollment on my sophomore year in UP Diliman, I met this chinita with a shiny shimmering smile who introduced herself to be my new roommate in Room 213 of Ilang-Ilang Residence Hall (the best dormitory in UP Diliman!). She practically bought me over a brazen smile and some yummy Piyaya she brought from Bacolod. Oh and her name is Bianca. In case I forgot to mention. Surprisingly, long before I knew how Bianca spelled her middle name (and long before I knew how she secretly fancied David Beckham that she even applied a newsletter from Manchester United!), Bianca and I already wore each other’s smile like we’ve known to be doing it our entire lives. I guess we got lost in awe of discovering how we jumped to the hype over Chinese garters; loved (and well, still love) and danced to Spice Girls; laughed and cried madly over the same sappy old movies; witnessed almost the same things while we were growing up – only we experienced them apart; and how our personalities attracted so comfortably it makes my tummy yank in wonder just by the thought of it. We shared moments of reading each other’s minds; snickering over corny clichéd jests and crying over mawkish things that taught us the meaning of friendship. That’s how Bianca’s heart clicked and still clicks with mine. So heart-grippingly simple, yet so intricately rare and priceless.

         Bianca – she eats numbers like they were Cadbury’s and pukes vegetables like they were numbers. It can’t be denied that this girl speaks Math with a twang. And if you don’t, no worries because she can speak Ilonggo, Filipino and English, too. There shouldn’t be a language barrier there any longer.  So in the subject of diet, her tang ranges from strange Moroccan steaks, that’ll rob you till your last penny, to chicken-flavored Yakisoba that’s readily available on the wee hours of college life. That’s if the dispenser is beaming with water or if it’s functioning sanely at all. But she particularly discriminates green leafy things that wander in her tray. She’s one sweet tooth and a mouthful of other sweet things, too.  

        She fiddles with her hair (ALL the time) while hanging up dazed in space. She lights up the room (or frightens it) by randomly (and suddenly) spreading her toothy grin even when no one cracked up a joke or even said a thing at all. During her insomniac periods, she’d bug you endlessly forcing your weary eyes to witness life awake with her over eternal chit chats that spell 3 am in the morning and uninhibited food trips. Oddly enough, in the area of record holding, she owns the crown on sleeping marathons. 

        In the shower room, she plies for bathing contests on who finishes quicker (if not quickest).  Plus there’s this obsession she has – namely, Cleanliness. This girl is neat, square and flat. Organization will have to be her theme. From clothing to books – her things will always be where they’re supposed to be.

        But these superficial things are nothing compared to the wonder that she is inside. There’s no dull moment with Bianca because she makes sure that the people around her feel cherished. Just by simply sharing her genuine smile to people, she gives out this radiance that’s only distinct to her and her alone. When a friend is in need, without a moment’s hesitation she’d give out all the help she can give. And without expecting anything in return. If she has copies of readings or books that somebody else needs, particularly friends, she’d offer it to them with a giving heart.  She never runs out of comforting words for people in grief, and if words are not appropriate, she never fails to give a sincere hug or a touch, or even shares a tear or two just to send through her message of comfort.

        Maybe growing up as the eldest of three children (her younger sisters look up to her as well) in a family who spoke soft words (even in anger), and the environment of Bacolod’s tended society offered the chance of molding admirably the wonder that is Bianca. This year, UP will be letting go of thousands of interesting individuals to conquer their individual battles in the real world bearing the UP honor in their hearts. Bianca is one of them and for sure she will come out victorious in her future adventures with the real world. Why? Because being able to survive UP means being able to survive the world (with class?).

         For making me feel this blessed, Bianca’s a treasure I would love to share to everyone. Because everyone deserves a moment of Bianca in their lifetime.

Bianx, it amazes me endlessly how we both love Atticus Finch and Zach Braff and Yakisoba and well, the list never ends. You're a kindred soul and I feel so blessed to have found you. Last night, I was rereading for the millionth time your letters and laughed at the written face of Winona Ryder on the back cover of Reality Bites' CD. I wish I'd be sipping cold coffee with you one of these crazy days and spend sleepless nights on conversations and films and whatnots. Missing you. Hope to be seeing you. And all the best to graduating this March.

Wanting Him

It’s called heartache.

Here’s the scoop.

I think I’m beginning to seriously like this one guy. Why so? I catch my heart thumping erratically on mundane moments. Sometimes this crazy smile just paints up my face out of the ordinary blue. Butterflies practically flip and flop inside my stomach. His random words keep playing in my head like they live there or something.  Then there’s this sort of intense emotion that longs to explode so bad it’s starting to freak me out. And he’s not even doing anything. And this is alarmingly not good. I’m talking major shit here.

Being in love is something I’ve always controllably avoided. I don’t think I can deal with the consequences. For one, I fear pain. Second, I view heartaches as killers with full murderous intent. I fear the tendency of excessively burning my heart out on someone. With him, the possibility is heart-grippingly high. And if my heart ends up bruised and broken after, I might not be able to handle that superbly. Or not yet. At least.

Then there’s this. This strangest of strange realization - that I might actually terrifyingly like him. And that’s just because I have no idea what love is, yet.

We surprisingly click so well it melts me half wondering and half overwhelmed. But we are worlds apart that our hands can’t fit each other’s spaces and our hearts can’t hear whether they beat together or alike. We see different smiles and share ourselves to different people - it’s almost impossible for us to walk hand in hand, or wear each other heart in heart.

Yes. In the name of my grotesque heart, I will have to admit that I like this guy much that it breaks my heart enough just thinking about him and the possibility of us.

So I’m gonna let him go. Right here. Even if my heart bleeds aching. Because wanting him is called heartache. 

Ps. I wrote this eons ago when I was such a mind-boggling hopeless romantic. Not anymore, though. Love won’t be something for me. When a heart is beating erratically you say all sorts of things. And when a heart is broken, you also say all sorts of things. (I’ll get over you, eventually!)