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| PCC's finally coming together.
Truth be told i didn't think it would happen. Like kuyabunag expressed, it's weird to see something on paper turn into a spectacle before your eyes. Every word, every coordination, every dance move, every flaw...all on stage in a month.
I eat sleep breathe this stuff. Haven't found my new york internship yet because of it. Rarely hang out with people who are not brown of skin anymore. But this stage is my stage. These people, my show. Frankly, I don't care if a few people are off beat on the 25th/26th. I don't care if technical difficulties make the show last for 8 hours (okay maybe i care a little). But this whole process, is my entertainment. Its why i put everything i have into it.
Seeing OCC members grow, and learning to let them grow and not be so overbearing. Seeing people who hardly know eachother going over hip hop moves when they reach awkward silences in conversation. Actors becoming their characters. Dancers growing into grace. Sakuting sticks splintering the youngins. Hearing people debate. Hearing people lead. Wondering how much of this will be well received by the audience, and coming to the conclusion that it doesn't really matter. Wondering how much of this is truly in reverence of my culture, and coming to the conclusion this IS my culture.
3 years later and i'm still at it. Remix of 04' to Katinig: Musaic in F minor of 07'.
Times like this i think about my roots in PSST. The practices at jess or ray's house where 30 of the 40 ppl there were just messin around. Practices everyday in that hallway. TRUE CONFESSIONS every goddamn opportunity (so pick a person to date...next question: so pick a person to kiss) Being a part of their family at home, because we were their psst-family at school. The modern revolution during jr year (what was it called, jeez it was dramatic, like the fellowship or something). Adventures with kaylie, and the uninventive tina.
First PCN: flip the script, and it's ghettoness in the gym. tiniks was my first dance! being in awe of singkil princes melinda. wanting it, so bad. All those fundraising shows, and the ballroom dancing after =).
My PCN: Remix. Script writing meetings over summer. Not being able to lead people, perfecting dances like mad, x calling me stage constipated after my solo, troy is a pcn powerhouse fasho. And the drama, oh god there was drama, but what filipino club is without. And who's to say it's entirely bad.
Things are so different now though. It's like falling in love again.
(i wonder what life will be like without the PCN) | | |
| (from a long while ago)
you have the right to kill every ounce of humanitarian inside me. and i'll be smiling.
i'll rewind my life for you, and you know it.
That's why i like you, because you know it, and you own it (you fucker)
let the ecstasy infiltrate, numbs you, but numbs me more..
"it's probably better this way.."
but for who?
the rest of the world. (i never really cared about them though)
for you (I never really cared about you though)
you're no poet, but touche.
Avoidance is your answer, trying not to let love be my question (inductive emotion, if only that could work)
if lust were my question it'd probably be worst
then i'd own no inch of you
everything was better when it wasn't so simple.
now that i comprehend the mechanism, i'm no longer fascinated by the process.
just like clockwork
It used to be tug of war
war is dead and i'm knitting sweaters with the useless string
an expatriate who longs for the fight.
I'll sacrifice my rights,
for the wrongs. | | |
| 1/25/05-->journal #2 [holy crap this was around 2 years ago]
another year.
nothing.
kind of late for new years resolutions right? for the whole lament and be done with it deal. So what? I'm a procrastinator and here is my epic
what i hate
1. fear. anxiety. synonymous i guess?
2. social awkwardness
3. fooling myself by fooling the world
4. kzphi and the angst of overinvolvement
5. irresponsibility
6. overesponsibility
so on and so forth..
What i have the power to actually change
1.
2.
3. i'm noticing a pattern here..
the biggest paradox is my brain. How is it so twisted? I wonder if 17 years of life could cynicize me that much.
It's not even that. If I were cynical it'd be a lot more simple. No kiddo, I am a real live, talking, walking, asthmatically breathingi ball of confusion.
I need stability yet i crave spontaneity
I strive for individuality but fitting in is of utmost importance
I broke his heart yet I still am involuntarily romantically attached
Aha! by golly we found it.
It only took me a few minutes of concentrated psychoanalysis to realize the extent of my unstsable selfishness. I just get better and better. It's not a matter of mind vs. Heart.
I'm not intelligent
I'm not miss social butterfly.
Then what the fuck am I?
I'm getting bored of myself already. Trying to divulge in "me" in search of the key to my disssatisfaction is not all that uplifting. Try a little harder, they say. Oh but what do they know. Spiraling down is my infatuation.
And so is this destructive bond. This snare in the fabric, getting even more unkempt each time i revert.
So just don't look. maybe it'll disappear.
Writing to a subject gets me so worked up. Way too worked up for a 2:30 am relaxation exercise. Breathe in...and out..maybe i'll explore the english language. I'll write of a verb.
motion-swift, essential. Without which we would be physically and mentally inept. Success, downfall, moderation, steppingstones to be utilized. Yet prisoner to the concept of time, and ironically a symbol for freedom.
hah, i still worte to a subject. I personified a verb, sad. told you i'm not intelligent.
I imagine i'm writing to the overseer of personal thoughts. The "God" of my athiesm. One that judges, comprehends, and knows. One that plays absolutely no role in my life. i'm writing, not to reach out or be understood, but to understand. I write to and for a concept. I write for
unspeakable. konfused is me.
language is weak, but beggers can't be choosers. and why not plaly. wrodlpya. fun. gdooghnit. | | |
| last blog was me trying to be pretentious. I'm too self critical for that, so how bout I don't this time.
I'm amped for tahoe. It's happening in two days n I hope my car with the blinking maintenance light on will make it one piece to the bay. Why do they call it the "yay". Always wondered that.
I have a final tomorrow that i've procrastinated 12 hours for. Here's the breakdown. 2 hours attempting to study but staying on one page, 3 hours getting food with my s iamese twin and playing, 5 hours youtube/myspace/xanger/computer, and 2 hours disappeared cuz time is a bitch to me. That equates to the fact i'm screwed in 12 hours, and hopefully the breakdown then will be better.
I have a potential internship in newyork over summer. wish me luck guys. One day i'll be the 9 to 5, black suitcase, ironed dress suit, pump wearer i've always feared. yipee
I'm going to learn to paint because an early christmas gift has enlightened me. Dawsons Creek tells me my life story but always seems to be a lesson learned to late in life.
Every 8th of the month i'm going to have resolutions. Why 8? Maybe cuz 8 is the number of moles i was born with. Or cuz 8 is the number of major regrets i've had in life. Or just maybe cuz i consider this phenomenon called xtina b, to be the 8th world wonder. Or maybe cuz it's tomorrow. Bottom line, new years shouldnt be the only day people re-evaluate the direction of their life. I do it daily, but tend to criticize rather than fix. So there you go.
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| I've been reading stuff that I want to remember. Xanga, i turn to you for help.
Observed world AIDS day on the 1st. Google told me to. Some of the things going on in this world are insane. From children being abused because of superstitions that sex with virgins can cure HIV, to people not being exposed to any std related info only because of their form of government, I really think I take my life for granted. So there's this productred thing that's going on, where top iconic brands [apple, american express , etc] market certain [red] products whose profits go toward dispersing medicine to Africa. I find it pretty funny one of the only ways the strike sympathy in the public is to target their consumer weakness, but its an admirable effort nonetheless.
Starbucks is pretty much going to take over the world. It conquered Mcdonalds, and has earth as its next obstacle.
Read a cool article/interview today with artist Isenberg of upcoming brand No Mas. He makes these politically charged, sports-related t-shirts/other art products. One of his first designs consisted of Ali's rejected slave name- Cassius Clay, because it looked like the Coca-Cola symbol. His reasoning- because Ali was one amazing publicizer. The article brings up issues of publicity vs. the first amendment and the legal standing of garments as a medium of "free speech".
Supposedly you don't need to be licensed to sell "political" products. If you go out on the street and sell antiwar shirts, you don't even have to be a business. Just have to be American. But who says whats political anyway? The controversial thing is, how can the government be the one to distinguish between art and plagiarism? Does Bush define appropriation...Its weird. To hear there are actual court cases on this. Where a jury decided on whether a piece was "artful" enough to be considered expression. Go America.
Anyway, some of this guys stuff is pretty awesome, so i suggest you guys check it out. I can't really speak much for him because he speaks pretty well for himself read th Article at http://www.murketing.com/journal/?p=280
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