Problems that has to do with hunger can be easily solved with food.
problems that has to do with stress and fatigue has only to rest.
Problems with careers can be solved with hard work…but there is no solution to the problems of insecurities and self-pity.
The best way, I guess, to avoid these pitfalls, is to never put
yourself in the such situations in the first place.  The thing with
insecurity is that…you circumspect on yourself…with your friends’
tired faces trying to sum up the courage to just tell you to shut up
without having to stay for another hour becuase you want to discuss why
you should when you are the unluckiest person in the world… you
cannot seem to understand that…they’ve heard that same agony over and
over again — coz you’ve been telling it the nth time now . you are too
busy feeling sorry for yourself, that whatever friends and luck you’ve
got, you’ve already tired them out. In this life, the rule is give and
take. You must pay for whatever it is that you have grabbed from
someone especially if it wasn’t given to you. what goes around comes
around…after all, the world is not a square…every step u take
backwards, is a step that will take you, sooner or later, to that same
spot you’re running from.  If you feel insecure. lock yourself in your
room and spare the world of of your drama. coz life isn’t about you. It never was…and it never will be…so beat it.

a mail i recieved. just wanna share ^.^

The 5 Questions Most Feared  By Men 

1. What are you thinking  about? 
2. Do you love me? 
3. Do I look fat in this? 
4. Do you think she is prettier than me? 
5. What would you do if I died? 
 
What makes these questions so difficult is that each one is guaranteed
to explode into a major argument if the man answers incorrectly (i.e.
tells the truth). Therefore, as a public service, each question is
analyzed below, along with possible responses. 
 
Question #1: What are you thinking about?
The proper answer to this, of course, is: "I’m sorry if I’ve been
pensive, dear. I was just reflecting on what a warm, wonderful,
thoughtful, caring, intelligent woman you are, and how lucky I am to
have met you." 
 
This response obviously bears no resemblance
to the true answer, which most likely is one of the following: a.
"Football." b. "Golf." c. "How fat you are." d. "How I would spend the
insurance money if you died." 
 
Perhaps the best response to
this question was offered by Al Bundy, who once told Peg, "If I wanted
you to know what I was thinking, I would be talking to you!" 
 
Question #2: Do you love me? The proper response is: "Yes!"  or, if you feel a more detailed answer is in order, "Yes, dear." 
 
Inappropriate responses include: a. "Oh yeah, sh*tloads." b. "Would it
make you feel better if I said yes?" c. "That depends on what you mean
by love." d. "Does it matter?" e. "Who, me?" 
 
Question #3: Do I look fat? The correct answer is an emphatic:  "Of course not!" 
 
Incorrect answers are: a. "Compared to what?" b. "I wouldn’t call you
fat, but you’re not exactly thin." c. "A little extra weight looks good
on you." d. "I’ve seen fatter." e. "Sorry, what did you say? I was just
thinking about how I would spend the insurance money if you died." 
 
Question #4: Do you think she’s prettier than me? Once again,  the proper response is an emphatic: "Of course not!" 
 
Incorrect responses include: a. "Yes, but you have a better
personality." b. "Not prettier, but definitely thinner." c. "Not as
pretty as you when you were her age." d. "Define pretty." e. "Sorry
what did you say? I was just thinking about how I would spend the
insurance money if you died." 
 
Question #5: What would you do if I died? A definite no-win question.  (The real answer, of course, is "Buy a Ferrari and a boat.") 
 
No matter how you answer this, be prepared for at least an hour of follow-up  questions, usually along these lines: 
 
Woman: Would you get married again? 
Man: Definitely not! 
Woman: Why not — don’t you like being married? 
Man: Of course I do. 
Woman: Then why wouldn’t you remarry? 
Man: Okay, I’d get married again. 
Woman: You would? (With a hurtful look on her face) 
Man: (audible groan) 
Woman: Would you sleep with her in our bed? 
Man: Where else would we sleep? 
Woman: Would you put away my pictures, and replace them with pictures  of her? 
Man: That would seem like the proper thing to do. 
Woman: And would you let her use my golf clubs? 
Man: She can’t use them — she’s left-handed. 
Woman: (silence)
Man: Sh*t.

you cannot believe the flashing lights. And so many people are waiting
to take your pictures. Roses are being thrown at your feet with the
crowd cheering your name. They want more, they crave for more than
what’s being offered. They clap their hands in a rythm, seducing you to
again give the performance of your life…but when the bulbs die down.
after the people have become tired of the noise and the laughter. after
the stage has been cleaned…you go back to your own little self -
euphoric for a moment - but definitely deafened by the silence.  You
ask for sleep but your mind gives you no rest. You clamor for the bed,
but its empitness gnaws at your soul.  Your tandem has left…and your
not on the stage anymore.

The phone rings. You pick it up. And
somehow, that call transcends the distance…but its not enough.  Never
enough. And like the crowd that cheers…you hum the name you long for.
you sing the melody of missing the company. you dance in
loneliness…making yourself sick by sending blank stares at the blank
walls. You are not Sad. But you are not overjoyed. You are
suspended…until the phone rings again.

INTRODUCTION
as pablo cuelo described, the frame of time when one goes to bed with someone else, minus the courting, the laughter, the whispers, the taking off of the clothes, is eleven minutes.

RISING ACTION
the rush of having a stranger kiss you in the dark can sometimes block the rationality of the brain. the possibility of being naked with someone you can barely remember the face, challenges one’s ability to make out the other’s soul. the coldness of the damp air with your back against the even more cold wall awakens not only the senses but the heat of the body as it fights the ever-so righteous but adulterous morale of the society.

CLIMAX
the adrenaline rush.that touch. that breath on the neck. that painful bite on the shoulder.that hot temperature due to the bodies’ friction. that damp back. that exploring hand. that intrusive stare. that intensive need to release. that tension in the air. that perfume indicating the ancient dance. the casual moans. the biting of the lip. its too sinful to be noisy but its more evil to be silent.

one can only imagine what’s going on in your mind, if your mind is working at all. with the windows and the doors as our portal towards purgatory that offer temporary physical bliss that might lead to many sleepless nights with the hope that the curtains are thick enough to mum the room of its shameful secrets…

FALLING ACTION
after the rollercoaster ride to that place called lala land and back…what happens next? life is expensive on its own and casual intimate encounters is one premium add on that most people fantasize upon but few people can afford. After such encounter, one feels desirable and beautiful…but as time stretches, it leaves the soul barren, the mind curiously hanging, the stomach churning, leaving the person more lonely than ever.

CONCLUSION
how many eleven-minutes-moments can one have in a lifetime?five.ten.twenty.a hundred. sometimes you just can’t get enough.

but sometimes…once can also be too much.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
It is to be noticed that our era today is on a sex rampage. However, the earth’s been on a sex rampage for millions and millions of years now…such reason for our survival. No certain moral implications can be colored on that reality. What is good or bad is mainly dependent upon which society you belong. The meaning of adultery and fidelity may vary depending upon the context of the group you embrace. You’re circle of friends, buddies, enemies can only be defined by your choices. If you’re seeing signs that you belong to the wrong group, it is suggested that you might want a change of company…the result may not be pleasant —however, this might be what you need.

i’m lost.
it’s been how many hours now and i’m stuck int his run-down cafe that i don’t think my friends have heard of. I’ve had my ass chewed off this afternoon for not updating my DSL connection…and it’s not my fault that the guys responsible for my line is just soooo slow. Not that I miss surfing at home. Come to think of it…I’m tired of being online sometimes. anyways…what was it that i first typed? oh yeah…i’m lost. not only that…i’m bored and i’m lost.
where should i go? i have no inkling as to what direction i should face. don’t even know where is north in the first place. don’t even know if i want to be somewhere of significance…im tired…beaten down..and am just downright satisfied sitting on this plastic chair.

ok ok….im lost and my feet hurts…not to mention that its kinda humid here…yep i think the a/c is not working.

im lost and i feel like i want to cry. why, i was so sure as to where i was going and something happened that made me swerve my way to never never land. am i regretting? is this blog a product of excuses and rationalization? i hope not.

i just miss my friends and everything i’ve come to love at this one pit stop of my life.

why is life sometimes so stubborn?

i dreamt of something…or someone…and i couldn’t get it off of my mind.

It was an image of  a man.
He’s got long hair.
His skin is pale.
He likes to bite his lower lip.
And he has this naughty twinkle in his eye, giving you an impression that he has some mischief in mind.
But he is a lonely man.  His smile doesnt reach his eyes.  The twinkle you saw was not bright enough to light his face.  There is something in the way he looks that makes you think that he has this forlorn view in life.
He has this habit of brushing his bangs away from his face, be it real or imaginary.

He makes me feel sad. Everytime i see him, his loneliness seems to seep out of his being, diffusing in the air, and intoxiacating me with a melachonly feeling that makes me wanna cry.

He has a way of walking that makes you think that’s he’s tired yet you’d be disappointed to see him stop fighting the weariness…for thought, it seems as if he is dragging his body, his steps are firm and sure.  He readily looks at whatever that catches his fancy and is capable of staring at it with open interest. 

He makes me feel that life is unfair.  For he has the gift of charm, he never thought of using it to anybody’s advantage, not even for himself.  He is gifted with a glowing beauty and his forlorn attitude and lonely character managed to draw people no matter how hard he tries to brush them off.

He makes me wanna hug him. He looks as if he needs a friend…even though i know, he is alright…just by himself.

the thing with hospitals is that it is too bright, has dark corners, and eerie corridors. The occasional page, breaking the silence…the footsteps of nurses and visitors making it more or less alive…but really…all in all…it is just downright creepy…don’t you think?

hospitals reminds me of  hazy dreams. the kind where you know you dreamt of something, but just couldn’t recall what it was… the kind that gives you a creepy feeling afterwards…that almost always depresses you throughout the day..

no, to answer your question…i don’t hate hospitals…im just afraid of it. i’ve been living in and out of it my whole life that it’s useless to hate it. but anyways…the reason why im talking of hospitals is that my brother just poured alcohol on me…the smell reminded me of my days in them…damn…i’ll be back…let me kill my brother first!

the streets are empty and its raining outside. I can hear the few cars passing by and sooner or later, i’ll hear my brother’s motorcyle (along iwth his friends’), loud enough to signal everyone within range that they have arrived at last.  I find it funny how my brother came to love his motorcycle…He, who gets bored about everything, came to cherish an object that can neither respond to his careful touch nor love him back.  inanimate objects do have that capability to extract love from its owner and even maintain it while doing nothing.  A feeling of protectiveness comes upon my brother everytime his motorcycle is put up for scrutiny and comments.  If the motorcycle sounds different, he checks it.  If it looks ragged, he gives it a bath, if it’s just stunningly beautiful after putting a new accessory, he adores it even more…now, im just waiting for him to give it a name…

Its not as if his motorcycle is unique…sheesh, all of his friends got their own too…same style, same brand…but each loves its own…each is as protective…and each is as crazy about it. 

oh well…if only taking care of people is as simple as taking care of a motorcycle…maybe the world would be less complicated.  Ownership is based upon one’s possessive feeling over the other.  But of course this would mean that the world would be divided into two.  The one who will own the other and the other who becomes "inanimate".  The "owner" then can practice possesion over the other the way he/she deems it right.  The owner can be gentle, abusive, be jealous, and be whatever…without the risk of having the other person acquiring an "opinion" …or worst…have that opinion said to his/her face. The inanimate partner will just stay there. Will nod, smile, and just basically do whatever is expected without the difficulty of having to compromise anything because, for starters, being inanimate means being an "object"…and being an object is being without identity except for that character which the "owner" expects one to have.  NO fights, no arguments, no misunderstandings…and best of all…no real expectations…if th eowner discards the "object"…there is nothing the object can do.  if the owner leaves the object for abuse…the "object" stays to bear the suffering.  If the owner wants the "object" back…object is not even obliged to answer…it is expected that he’ll be in the owner’s custody again.  NO shameful revelations of one’s flaws…no slaps…no episodes…no tantrums…none…there is no place for that.

what’s the catch…

neither the owner nor the object achieves the total gratification one gets in a relationship.  The relationship doesnt have to be founded in love (crap! i dont even think that thing exists)…no…mutual understanding and respect can be an example.  But the point is…a thinking being needs to relate to a thinking being.  a subject to a subject.  That’s why…my brother, no matter how much he loves his motorcycle, leaves his motorcycle in the garage.  He doesnt bring it to his room…he doesnt engage it in conversations…and he doesnt praise it outside the category beauty and efficiency.  It is not a relationship. it will never be. my brother will always be superior and hte motorcycle couldn’t care less.  You cant invest feelings into a machine.  It’s cold and it’s lifespan is often shorter than yours. 

A person is more complicated…hell…man is a being full of contradiction.  Often, he acts differently from his belief.  Often he says something and does another thing.  He forgets promises.  He fails to be on time sometimes. He has a knack for getting in trouble.  He sometimes chooses irrationally regardless of the fact that he’s supposed to be a rational being…You can’t cure him of his bad habits with a visit at the motor shop.  You can’t overhaul him when he’s starting to act funny. No oil can make him do whatever we want him to do..unless he wants to amuse you…yet he can be bribed, cheated, and even cajoled with the best of metaphors and sweet nothings.  He hurts the one he loves the most, tends to discard what is significant…and can be just blindly stupid sometimes.  He makes up fantasies and tends to believe in it. He dreams and can even believe his own lies.  and worst of all..he can get jealous over nothing and thus, ruin everything in the process.  He is unsatiable…until he finds his own match.It’s as if he lives to argue and  is even in constant battle of himself.

Life should be a constant adventure or he loses interest. Life should be quiet or he goes mad. Life should be difficult or he grows up to uncaring. Life should be easy or he loses it. LIfe should be according to fancies. Life should be a set of rules. Life should be a rollercoaster ride. Life should be…

hmmm…thank God for life’s complications…

although sometimes…it comes to a certain point that you feel life just so sucks that you’d be happy to become a motorcycle…unfeeling…uncaring…and just totally cold.

But its not worth it…come to think of it…i think i heard my brother telling my mom he wants a new motorcyle…a faster one…Now, it would really suck to live in a junk shop, aight?

hmm…i wonder if boggs’ brought me a donut, just as he promised… ^.^

even though we aint got money, im so in love with u honey and everything will bring a chain of love…and in the morning when i rise, bring a tear of joy to my eyes, and tell me, everything….is gonna be alright