tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-203766332024-03-07T17:21:05.411+08:00THE PSYCHO PATHalways take the cynic route.jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.comBlogger301125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-20578484634101767622016-04-11T22:30:00.000+08:002016-04-12T01:59:32.324+08:00FATHERHOOD 2.0<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; line-height: 21.0667px;">Release Notes:</span><br />
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<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; line-height: 21.0667px;">new rash-preventive hairstyle</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; line-height: 21.0667px;">reinstated diaper changing function</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; line-height: 21.0667px;">lifestyle and career upgrades</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; line-height: 21.0667px;">multiple room improvements</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; line-height: 21.0667px;">other minor updates and bug fixes </span></li>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; line-height: 21.0667px;">Developer Comments:</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; line-height: 21.0667px;">You know that feeling when you're playing an RPG and it's the final boss and he's the hardest-to-beat fucker in the whole game and you've restarted from a save point over and over again trying different strategies but none of them seem to work and you've said you'll turn the console off if you fail again for about five times and you've used up all your items and your entire party is dead except for your main character whose health bar is flashing red and you hit attack and the enemy finally dies?!?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px; line-height: 21.0667px;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; line-height: 21.0667px;">Well, multiply that by 89 billion times and that's how I feel right about now because the one true warrior child prophesied to conquer all of cutedom has been unleashed. After what felt like eons of waiting, the masses shall bask in the radiant wonder of his presence. </span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; line-height: 21.0667px;">Due to various elements destiny pushed beyond our control, what was supposed to be yesterday became tomorrow and what was supposed to be tomorrow became today.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; line-height: 21.0667px;">And so now I celebrate the essence of my masculinity for the champion sperm spewn from my scrotums has evolved into a human creature with scrotums of its own, ready to stomp his footprint onto badassery's ass. Today, I pull Excalibur from the stone. Today, I place the Matrix of Leadership into my chest. Today, I reach Super Saiyan Blue. Today, the knob goes up to 11.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; line-height: 21.0667px;">For today is the day my son is born. Universe and all thy parallels, meet Iajin Alfredous Jye. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; line-height: 21.0667px;"><br /></span>jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-38349457520566762782016-04-08T19:25:00.001+08:002016-04-08T19:27:29.958+08:00I AM JUST INVENTING NAMESSome time during the late 1990s/early 2000s, I started developing an idea for a novel. It was a vampires versus werewolves story from the point of view the human caught in between the "fang wars". The title I had in mind was Bloodlust and it was supposed to begin in the Dark Ages with two vampire families in a Romeo and Juliet type of conflict that gave birth to the vampire leader of the modern times, Dæniel Drake (yes, I wanted it spelled like that). I did a lot of research and even made character sketches. I think I was able to get as far as two pages of the prologue until I learned about a film starring Kate Beckinsale entitled Underworld. Oh well.<br />
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Anyway, the reason I opened with that is because I have a slight dread of it sort of happening again, this time with my very-soon-to-be-born son's name. There's this little quaver in a corner of my heart telling me that the moment my wife and I announce his name to the webwide world, there's going to be some murmuring behind our backs accusing us of name plagiarism. To be completely honest, no, we most definitely did not do that. Neither of us are that dumb, that we saw some other kid's name and thought our child should have a similar one. And this isn't about just being different or unique. I want my children to develop their own identities.<br />
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I actually had decided on my son's name way back in high school. I came upon it while thinking of a name for a character based on myself but I thought I'd reserve it for my firstborn son (it's a name that anyone will almost automatically associate with me, so it's not what's causing my worries). By then I was satisfied with just that single name, never telling it to anyone for fear of it being stolen. Fast forward to 2009 when Jeean and I found out we were going to be parents. Despite the insistence of my friends that the baby would be a girl, I was sure it was going to be a boy and so a boy's name we created.<br />
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It was settled that he was going to have three names, like his father, and the first would be the one I've been keeping to myself for years, plus another letter. The second was a portmanteau of two family members' names, plus a suffix for impact. And the last one was my version of Junior. Name number one sounded Japanese, name two Greek, and name three Korean. It was great name and my wife and I were both happy with it (we actually came up with one more in case she was carrying twins, which then paved the way for a bunch of others because you never know, right?). Of course, when we found out the baby was a girl, we made an entirely new one from scratch and got Iaine Sivela Feona.<br />
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But now that there is a 100.13% certainty that we will be blessed with a baby boy, we can finally use the name when we fill up forms documenting his existence. Not ready to reveal it just yet so I'll conclude with some anagrams:<br />
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<i>jai enjoys ireful ad </i></div>
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<i>jeean is fairly judo</i></div>
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<i>iaine's de joyful jar</i></div>
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TL;DR (which means "too long; didn't read" for all you non-Redditors) No matter what anybody else says, my son's full name was invented seven years ago.jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-22595424497136065602016-03-24T09:45:00.001+08:002016-03-24T09:45:23.219+08:00MIND OVER MUTTERHere's one of my favorite weird facts: the brain named itself. Take the time to mentally digest that one. Now the brain is thinking about itself having named itself. Pretty neat, eh? (of course, i know it was some other person's brain that named itself, but just play along, you killjoy)<br />
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I've always kept this fact handy in case I need to detonate a cranium or two, but I'm automatically reminded of it when my own thinker tanks. Like just a while ago, I opened my phone's browser and hit the Google icon. It loaded the search engine in about 5 seconds. And then I stared at the blinking vertical symbol for twice that time and wondered, what was I supposed to google again? As I tried to recall whatever it was I had to rummage the internet for, I could almost hear the metallic squeak of rusted gears struggling to spin backwards inside my head.<br />
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Usually, what I'd do is rewind my bullet train of thoughts and look for the particular sequence of cerebral images that connect to whatever it was that slipped out, but I just can't retrieve this one. It must have been some random thing that popped in and the one thing that should know where it went (since the jerk created it in the first place) has rendered itself useless. I'm half amazed and half annoyed about it. Like my brain has a mind of its own and loves to prank me sometimes. <i>Going out? Im gonna make you wear your shirt inside out! Carrying a plate of food? Im gonna make enter you the bathroom! Working on a high priority client-requested task in the office? Im gonna dyslexify a couple of words so you'll misunderstand them and screw this whole thing up!</i><br />
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This is supposed to be the part where I conclude by saying "I know my brain has done many amazing things" and such. But I am going to hold the praises hostage until my brain pays me the ransom of memory. So fuck you, brain.<br />
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P.S. Even up to now, I have yet to remember what I was supposed to google. It would be easy to say it couldn't have been something important since I forgot it that fast. But what if it was? Damn.<br />
P.P.S. My brain also came up with this dream last night: my whole family was in a car and I was outside riding a baby stroller holding on to the left rear window and we were going at top speed along EDSA. Fun times.<br />
P.P.P.S. All those italicized sentences actually happened.jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-40534726473535558912016-03-08T18:37:00.000+08:002016-03-09T16:14:13.624+08:00THE MAN IN THE SAND CASTLE <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
There was this thing I saw on the most reliable news source of the interwebs, Facebook, about a certain local filmmaker who threatened a few people that gave their movie a negative review. It made me want to post a blog about opinions and criticism. Which then made me realize how nearly all of the personal blogs now are reviews of stuff. Which then made me realize I haven't written a movie review for a long, long time. Which then made me go back to the first one about opinions and criticism.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0pZz36UHYQjDIw8MNZvNpr82QJUCK30iZQ259PXPFMWLOV1zWzE7k6sgvklJ6bHxRBDQVvYYto5AbeGkvpCKACjNFGX5v-6cOZNpPfPNhqa-Uk6MBuQ5YX3PetdySlBM9ZvbJ/s1600/unnamed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0pZz36UHYQjDIw8MNZvNpr82QJUCK30iZQ259PXPFMWLOV1zWzE7k6sgvklJ6bHxRBDQVvYYto5AbeGkvpCKACjNFGX5v-6cOZNpPfPNhqa-Uk6MBuQ5YX3PetdySlBM9ZvbJ/s320/unnamed.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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So I logged in and found out that I had a recent unfinished unposted entry, with three paragraphs worth of introductory rant about the Manny Pacquiao v. LGBT community issue saved as draft and ended in the middle of a sentence. I Ctrl+A'd it and hit Backspace instead of Delete because I'm a rebel. Also because it connects to what this new entry will contain (if I finish it).<br />
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Anyway, I'll never understand people who can't respect other people's opinion of their work, like it's the most perfectest thing in the universe and anyone who says otherwise is automatically an idiot. As a writer, I've always been open to criticism (of the constructive kind, of course). I don't really listen to them that much since I'll not let go of work for external scrutiny unless I'm satisfied that no more changes are needed but I file them under "for consideration" on any succeeding endeavors. I get that some tend to value their output more than it deserves (I do that as well). That does not mean, however, that they can just threaten, ridicule and harass their critics and it definitely does not excuse anyone from being a complete asshole. Nothing does, really. Only time it's okay to be an asshole is if, in fact, you are literally a hole of ass.<br />
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And this isn't about someone being called fat and crying foul on social media even though they really are severely overweight. This involves a product released for public consumption. If your product is of subpar quality, society will say so. It doesn't matter how hard you worked on it, how much time or money you spent on it, and how much praise you got from the people you paid to help you with it. Your efforts are meaningless if the end result sucks and no amount of delusionary persuasion will turn it into gold. If it's crap, it's crap. From an asshole. I love how disgustingly that links together.<br />
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So go ahead, make your films, write your stories, and peddle your goods for all the world to consume as long as you're sure you can take the heat. Else, crawl back under your rock and fellate yourself for eternity.<br />
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P.S. Goes both ways of course. Complaints, reactions and suggestions need not be offensive.<br />
P.P.S. Been dreaming of my soon-to-be-born son a lot recently. I hope he dreams of me too. Cant wait for both our dreams to come true.jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-14279118492561777552016-02-05T04:00:00.000+08:002016-02-05T04:00:13.698+08:00BIG BANG BLUSH<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
(Note: This is an old post saved as draft from 2014. Posted now because why not?)</div>
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Funny where a destinationless train of thought takes you. I was watching TV the other day and learned that Kevin Feige's last name is actually pronounced as "fai-gee" and not "feyj" as i previously assumed. But I told myself, (not out loud, of course. just a whisper) it's okay, the mistake is understandable since Feige has the same last four letters as beige. Unless beige is pronounced as "bai-gee".<br />
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Anyway, so for the sole reason of just because, I googled beige. And found out that a certain shade of that color is the average color of the universe. Some astronomy dudes surveyed the color of all light in the universe (including 200,000 galaxies) and ended up with a beigeish white hue. When it was displayed on a newspaper article, readers sent in suggestions for a name and they went with "cosmic latte". Some of the other entries were skyvory, univeige, this blog's title, and primordial clam chowder (which I think should have won).
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<br />jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-3431604192880983102016-02-02T01:00:00.000+08:002016-02-02T01:00:10.799+08:00SPEAKING OF NOWHello, stranger.<br />
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That greeting is actually not just for you, dear reader, but also for me, dire writer, so welcome back to both of us. I'd prefer not to waste time and pixels addressing the whys and wherefores of my inactivity and instead focus on getting this blog back up and running. Again. For the eleventeenth time.<br />
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Two things: I made a quick redesign, nothing too fancy, and I imported a bunch of posts from my other blogs, which by the way were quite surprising as I could not remember writing some of them at all. I even took some phrases and googled them, flanked by quotation marks, to make sure they were truly mine and not lifted from somewhere else (good news: mine!). Also, I've decided to write my posts the way an educated adult should and quit emulating E.E. Cummings.<br />
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Speaking of, I'm going to be a father again! Of a baby boy this time, which is just whoawesomazing. Yes, that's whoa, awesome, and amazing in one word because that's how I feel about it. Especially since my wife and I have been trying for so long. I wanted him to be born in 2013 (because duh) but I guess the financial crisis caused massive stork layoffs and delayed the delivery of our son to April of this year, which is peachy fine. Really. It's not like time seems to go slower when you wait for something. It's only three more months, no biggie. I very patient.<br />
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Speaking of, during Jeean's third checkup, my heart twerked when we heard the little human's heartbeat for the first time and I had to control myself from RKOing the nurse and yelling, "Science, bitch!". Then, a few months later, when OB/GYN Kenobi pointed an arrow to our son's tallywacker on the ultrasound screen, I shook my fists in the air and screamed in victory as I saw our future together projected onto the inner walls of my skull: my wife and I playing Final Fantasy VII Remake on the PS5; Iaine and her little brother washing the dishes.<br />
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Oh, and Iaine, who is as excited, if not more, as I am, is turning six this week. She's grown so fast. Feels like it was only yesterday when I dropped her off to school and told her to do well in her exams. Wait. That was actually yesterday. What day is it today? Anyways, those six long years mean I have basically unlearned all the baby care skills I mastered when Iaine was still small. However, I fear not the slumberless nights for I know that when the epic newborn is thrust into this dimension, I shall regain all that power and conquer the realm of second-time fatherhood. So bring on the poop!<br />
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One more thing I seem to have unlearned: properly ending blog posts. So bye?<br />
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<i>P.S. That is the first and the last time I will use the word that starts with T and means "shake your butt like shit is stuck."</i><br />
<i>P.P.S. My wife's OB/GYN is not really named Kenobi.</i><br />
<i>P.P.P.S. Is it the third week of April yet? Please be the third week of April when I wake up tomorrow.</i><br />
<i>P.P.P.P.S. Actually, please be April after Iaine's birthday. Sorry, Iaine.</i><br />
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<br />jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-50242727025884626402016-01-03T00:50:00.000+08:002016-01-03T00:50:46.272+08:00UP DARNA DOWNApparently, there's a teaser trailer for the new Darna movie playing in front of some MMFF films. I tried to watch the bootleg recording on Facebook and further degraded my eyesight trying to figure out what was going on. Anyways, I've had a Darna remake idea in my head for so long but never really got around to writing it. Since the possibility of me being a part of the 2016 film is absolute zero, here's roughly the first 15 minutes of my Darna pitch, which is a sequel, a remake, and a reboot all rolled into one.<br />
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<a href="http://img06.deviantart.net/bc92/i/2013/120/4/6/darna_concept_art_by_madbox86-d63oa78.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://img06.deviantart.net/bc92/i/2013/120/4/6/darna_concept_art_by_madbox86-d63oa78.jpg" height="320" width="226" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Darna Concept Art by <a href="http://madbox86.deviantart.com/art/Darna-Concept-Art-368968868" target="_blank">madbox86</a> </i></span></div>
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<i>1980</i>. After a grueling battle, Darna defeats Valentina and is about to give the final blow. Valentina pleads for her life. With Darna's guard down, Valentina bites her on the neck, injecting a paralyzing, slow-acting venom. Darna kills Valentina then falls to the ground.<br />
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<i>1996</i>. After years of suffering (both healthwise and from being unable to help people in need), Narda dies. In the next room, Ding's wife (let's call her Maria) gives birth to a baby girl. They name her Narda, of course. Ding (now a cop) trains Narda how to fight as she grows up, against Maria's wishes. 10 years later, Ding Jr. is born, who also undergoes training.<br />
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<i>2016</i>. An underground cult worshiping Valentina is formed, believing that Reptilians are the true owners of the world. The cult leader's son, Vladimir, kills a family who left the cult and burns the condominium.<br />
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Narda graduates college and her father promises to give her the best gift that day. On the way home, the family sees the burning building. The ever heroic Ding immediately goes to help. Narda follows. The building explodes. In the hospital, Ding dies after telling Maria to give the "bato" to Narda. Narda is in a coma. In her dream, Narda sees her aunt and is told about her destiny.<br />
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Narda wakes up a week later and is devastated by the news. Ding is buried. Narda is temporarily in crutches. Now living at the topmost floor of an old apartment building, Narda watches through her window several petty crimes happen outside. Maria sees this but still hides the bato from her.<br />
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A bank robbery is on the news. Narda wants to watch the TV but her mother insists she stay in bed. Ding Jr. sees that the getaway van being chased by police car is headed somewhere familiar. The getaway van stops at a dead end. The gang leader looks around and sees the old apartment building. He calls for a helicopter. The crooks enter the building. When they reach the topmost floor, the leader is told the the chopper will take a while. As the cops go into the building, the crooks fire at them from above. The leader tries to break the door to one of the apartments.<br />
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Fearing for their lives, Maria tells Narda her father's dying message and gives her the bato, telling her to swallow it and shout Darna. Narda remembers her dream but before she could put it in her mouth, the gang leader breaks into the apartment and takes them hostage.<br />
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The leader tells the cops to back off or he will kill the family. The leader is then told that the chopper is almost there. He tells one of his men to take the boy with them just in case. A struggle ensues. Maria is kicked to the ground. Narda is thrown through the window. She loses her grip on the bato. She catches it with the other hand. She puts it in her mouth. She swallows. She shouts "Darna!" She falls to the ground... and three-point lands as Darna.<br />
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P.S. Post title doesn't mean I'm a fan of the local band. Just thought it sounded nice. Maybe they could provide the theme song, I don't know.<br />
P.P.S. The attached concept art is the closest one I could find to the one I had in mind. Except I don't like the helmet and I want the updated Darna to have straight hair instead.<br />
P.P.P.S. I think Sarah Geronimo should be the new Narda/Darna. She can do the role duality, she has the fan base, and she can sing the theme song herself. Maja Salvador is a close second.<br />
P.P.P.P.S. My idea was, the Darna would then be followed by a new Captain Barbell film, then Lastikman. Then, a Sanlakas movie with all three of them with an endtag tease for Jesebel.jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-45126519106967562702013-04-13T05:44:00.001+08:002013-06-03T06:10:51.765+08:00boredom becomes himthe disadvantage of being fast: having nothing else to do. well, of course, i could do even more than im supposed to do but that would amount to nothing because in this corner of corporate hell, twice the effort has the same value as half of it. and so, here i am, watching the network icon blink on the system tray, making right-click squares on the desktop and wishing for one of my coworkers to self combust as i succumb to the slow and painful death by boredom.<br />
<br />
there's this thing on reddit about people you hate hanging out with. one guy says he doesn't like people who have the same interests he has but can do them better. i actually hate even more the opposite of that, people who are into the same things you're into but you know you can do better. especially when you know they're into it only for fad's sake and/or because they have money. i hate even more those people who say, just follow your dreams. fuck you. i cannot "just do it". i cannot just get out of this chair, teleport to abs-cbn and start pitching shows and movies to the guard on duty (because that's as far as i'm gonna get). nike's slogan does not work in a country where you're not worth a peep if you do not have a famous relative, a powerful backer, or lots and lots of money.<br />
<br />
no one takes risks on a nobody, no matter how great you are. the reason? ever watched reality talent shows where someone acts like they're the best there is and then turn out to be a total moron? the people in charge do not want to waste time on people like that. so they just won't give you any attention for personal claims of superiority alone. which sucks for those who really are as great as they would claim to be.<br />
<br />
i dont think i'm that awesome. but i believe i have awesome ideas that studio execs need to hear. and i always have internal apocalypse whenever i see the crappiest of crap get funded and then fail to make a profit.<br />
<br />
i am so bored.
jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-2855020018111260832013-03-25T10:10:00.000+08:002013-06-03T06:13:09.457+08:00short story: ?i know i said i'd be making alphabetical posts but i just had a dream where i was told to write a short story. i wrote it on a little notebook while trying to find a place to sit down. i immediately woke up the moment i finished it and so i thought i had to type it up (which i now think is a mistake because i should have waited for my dream self to come up with a title for it). this is, as far as i remember, exactly what i wrote in my dream:<br />
<br />
I could be naked right now and it wouldn't cause a stir for I am surrounded by robots. They look human but they soldier on through this torturous job without a complaint every single day so they must be mechanical. I listen to the cacophony of keyboards a-clicking/pounding and think to myself: I am in hell.<br />
<br />
I walk to my car. I open the door and I see from the corner of my eye something small run behind the car. I go and look but there's nothing there. I see something on the ground, a short line of black dots. I bend down to check closer... and almost fall backwards when I found out what they really are: shoe prints.<br />
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I hear it laugh the tiniest laugh I have ever heard. I turn and catch a glimpse of it climbing into the tailpipe. I peer into the tailpipe and could see the outline of the small man, just sitting there, laughing at me, taunting me. I quickly jump into the car, turn the ignition on and rev the engine. I keep kicking the pedal until I could barely see through the black smoke. I turn the engine off and hurry to the back of my car.<br />
<br />
I hear it coughing and wheezing inside the tailpipe. The small man crawls out and falls to the ground. I pick him up and see a one-inch version of me dying in my palm.<br />
<br />
I am in hell.jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-45186314965025792022013-01-28T10:44:00.000+08:002013-01-28T10:44:29.442+08:00argument against alighieri (A)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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afterlife: i just finished watching a film (won't say the title for spoilery reasons) wherein a character dies but appears in a scene in the end. now i've always doubted the existence of an afterlife but after seeing that, the chance of me believing in life after death has become microscopic. we've been told that when you die, you either go to heaven or hell, depending upon how you lived your life. that idea alone is sketchy. what if you've been good your whole life then did one bad thing and died before you could ask for forgiveness? or what if you've been bad your whole life but managed to ask for forgiveness for your evil ways just before you die? also, isn't it suicide when you know you're going to die but you risk your life anyway to save someone else's life?<br />
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and don't give me the purgatory thing. that's an even bigger nonsense than the concept of heaven and hell. it's like, dude, you gotta wait here until we're done reviewing your case. see, you've been such a do-gooder but you masturbate a lot and we don't like that here so we're weighing the amount of good deeds you've done against that number of times you pleasured yourself. and what do you know, good deeds beat masturbation by one point. all we need now is to get at least 100 people to pray for your soul to gain access to heaven. we're at 99 and the last one, your ex, has just knelt down to pray for you. if she finishes her prayer, you're good to go. oops, she was just going to give a guy a blowjob. sorry. off to hell with you, you despicably nefarious miscreant!<br />
<br />
but the one i recently realized, thanks to that particular film, is that your afterlife self is supposed to look like yourself when you die. not exactly at the moment of your death (because, you know, everything is beautiful in heaven and there can't be anyone who has burnt skin, a decapitated head or spilling insides even if they died that way) but your best looking appearance just before. but what if you've had long hair all your life and you suddenly decided to go bald, and then you die, will your afterlife self be bald? if you died wearing nothing, will your afterlife self be naked? if not, what criteria does the afterlife use to choose your eternal uniform? if a guy dies while wearing a jollibee costume, will he enter heaven as jollibee? will we all suddenly have white togas when we die? if a person is born with physical defects, will they have the same physical defects in the after life? if not, why were they even allowed to be born with those defects then?<br />
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these are serious escathological questions by the way. im pretty sure religious fundies have multiple-bible-interpretation, dodge-the-real-issue answers for these questions. that or they'll just ignore it. i really hate it when anyone dismisses questions due to their faith. it's not even a test of faith. it's about fully understanding what you believe in. but i guess "understanding" isn't part of having faith. you just drink the kool-aid and ignore why it tastes like cyanide.<br />
<br />
p.s. everytime there's an exception to a rule, i think there should be no rule.<br />
p.p.s. anyone who puts "leave everything to god" as facebook statuses should start walking around, crossing streets with their eyes closed.<br />
<br />jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-26189803852712201732013-01-19T22:10:00.000+08:002013-01-19T22:10:02.912+08:00a blog challenge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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so i dreamt i was back in high school... again. the quirk this time is i had my young high school body. i know this because i saw myself in a mirror. i looked at a mirror because we were supposed to present something in costume. and for some reason, mine was the phantom of the opera. so i saw my high school self putting on the white mask in front of a mirror.<br />
<br />
anyhow, in the classroom we were told to present alphabetically. that's when i thought of a cure for this blog's content drought: alphabetically topicked posts! dont know if anyone has done this but im going to attempt it anyway for the sake of my make-believe avid readers.<br />
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p.s. storytime! back in real life high school, during a foundation celebration, i got caught in one of those stupid jail booths. the deal was i had to stay in their makeshift cell for 30 minutes or choose one of two bail options: a) pay 10 bucks, or b) recite the alphabet backwards. unbeknownst to them, a) i was a cheapskate, and b) i could actually sing the alphabet song in reverse. i did so and nonchalantly left them perplexed. which was, in retrospect, badass and lame at the same time.jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-24799351958788347242012-12-20T07:47:00.001+08:002012-12-20T07:53:22.134+08:00my last blog post (if the world ends tomorrow)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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i really don't believe that the world will end tomorrow. there are so many reasons it should, but there are many more why it shouldn't. still, i'm 100% sure it isn't going to happen. but for the mayans' sake, let's say that they didn't just run out of rock space and actually predicted that december 21, 2012 is in fact the last time anyone will say tgif. oh how fucked we all are.<br />
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but what's going to occur? there should at least have been a global doomsday precursor every day for two weeks, each being different from the other. and no, the recent catastrophe in our country or the shooting in sandy hook are to localized to signal the approaching apocalypse. (and damn every priest and person who'll say it's the rh bill) it had to be something felt worldwide. so far, we've had none of that.<br />
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i'd also like to point out that we have different timezones. it will still be thursday in america when it's friday in the philippines. it can't be like, everything's crumbling to ashes in our part of the globe and it's all peace and quite in another. it also cant happen to us on friday while someone in the u.s. would be like, but it's thursday. a warning-less armageddon has to strike in one go.<br />
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to me, only one scenario is possible: alien invasion, the same aliens who met the mayans and told them, yousa be prepared on this date, bitches, 'cause wesa gonna be back to do some shit (yes, they were gungans). the mayans owed them big and there was no way to pay it back at that time so the space mafia gave us thousands of years to come up with the cheese. so tomorrow, a ginormous wormhole will appear near the moon, aliens will come out and bust through our ozone to do some damage.<br />
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i typed a bunch of farewell messages but they were quite awkward so
instead im going to link to an article i wrote on the topic at hand. click <a href="http://jaiskizzy.blogspot.com/2008/05/apocalypse-how.html" target="_blank">here </a>before the earth disintegrates.<br />
<br />
the end? jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-55752081971190684432012-10-14T11:46:00.000+08:002012-12-20T07:55:43.914+08:00baroque concerto grosso<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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today's topic, kids, is music. but first a little music background (not background music). i basically like rock and, to cut the inevitable long story short, i used to buy casette tapes and cds. but then the internet happened and mp3s became the universal format for auditory stimulation. however, unlike most downloaders, i give a shit about musicians losing money to piracy. buying overpriced albums at this day and age of physical player extinction is impractical. and the only other option for me to pay those guys back is to go to their concerts.<br />
<br />
im a casual fan. i do not idolize any of them. i do not define my life by their lyrics. i just love their music and want to see them perform live and actually pay for it which is worth every peso because no amount of speakers or hertz of quality can match the real deal. there, it's not just listening anymore. it's an entire experience. you the vocalist actually sing the lyrics and the other members actual play their instruments all while surrounded with (hopefully) other true fans. so i find it stupid to see people brand themselves as big fans of some bands and not go to their concerts.<br />
<br />
Or, inversely, i find it even stupider that there are people who worship musicians and claim to be diehard fans just because of one song, as dictated by being in. a coworker of mine just now said that psy is her idol, because of gangnam style. my wife showed me someone's tweet about a girl saying she is the number one fan of maroon 5 despite the fact that the only song of theirs she knows is payphone. these people are not fans. they're trend slaves. if for some reason, justin bieber released a song of nothing but farts and the media eats it up, these people would be preaching it's the best thing that penetrated their ears. this "phenomenon" is also because of the internet. it is now easier to start a fad and follow them, regardless of everything else.<br />
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i watched the first maroon 5 concert in moa back when payphone and moves like jagger weren't hits. they just played their classic songs. im sure there were people there who just went because they thought adam levine was hot and could care less about what he sang. but there wasn't this thing that there is now. on the night of the 2nd concert which was in araneta, i was watching the news and this guy was interviewed. he said he'd been a fan of maroon 5 for many years. and then the clincher: he said he was excited because it was his first time to see them live. so i was like, no, dude, you just drank the kool-aid.<br />
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p.s. also, may the idea of walking around wearing headsets is cool die.jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-76358570796767370602012-09-22T16:28:00.000+08:002012-10-20T21:43:25.151+08:00blueprint for disaster<br />
<br />
somebody awesome, god-looking and very humble is celebrating his birthday next week and so i thought a little blog overhaul is in order. and by little, i mean some minor visual changes, and by overhaul, i mean i really did not want to use the word makeover. which kind of explains my preference for some big words and different ways of conveying messages. unlike a lot of the pretentious blogs ive encountered where they trade sense and clarity for forced scholarly meta-bullshit, my vocabular druthers are mandated by inner writer voice and there are words i would not speak with that voice. id even invent a word or phrase in place of such verbal aversions.<br />
<br />
anyway. so the plan is to do some digital renovation and then, for the umperteenth time, post regularly. as much as possible, weekly. will i be able to strictly adhere to this? probably not. but with the recent developments life-wise, the necessary factors to accomplish this goal are present so failure to comply is to be blamed on laziness (which, as my millions and millions of imaginary fans know, i have an abundance of). by the power of his noodly appendage, i will do my best to stick to the shtick.<br />
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edit: just gave the blog a thorough eyeraping and decided to hold off on the overhaul. i really want to make some changes but i admit i pre-typed the post above without having decided on a new look. still contemplating on going retro red and using a static banner.<br />
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p.s. the other day, i had some sort of nightmare marathon. i wanted to tell my wife about it but she said she'd die did that as per a superstition. but what if i post it here? does that cancel out the curse because i wont be telling it to anyone directly or would everyone who reads the post die?jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-72093071363771391102012-09-22T15:48:00.000+08:002012-09-22T15:48:48.561+08:00this is where your taxes go<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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sometime ago, they decided to strictly enforce the speed limit. fast and furious drivers traversing the south luzon expressway suddenly received a piece of police literature. it's a good law. it lessens accidents. but what about those bozos going way below the speed limit? do they flag them down and ticket them as well? i bet no or else i wouldn't find myself driving in a very long queue behind a hearse-velocity truck on a highway which i paid the toll for. why do they let these slugs go by? don't say they don't cause accidents because im pretty sure that a lot of those accidents were due to drivers overtaking these motherfuckers. cop dudes, dont single out the speedsters. implement the law completely. go after motorists who go over <i>and</i> below the speed limit. get these slowpokes out of my way and stick tickets up their shitholes. i mean, chasing them shouldn't be that hard, right?<br />
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one of the things i hate seeing on the news is the shenanigans against piracy. they confiscate piles of 8 in 1s, apprehend the vendors and give a job-well-done interview. that's it? that's the only thing in their job description, mission and vision? take the fakes and smile for the camera? what about the legal ones in the video stores? why are they overpriced crap compared to the pirated copies? how about the theaters? why are they still showing the same old pinoy ideas-stolen-from-hollywood movie crap in the cinemas? where can the rare films destroyed in dvd form be seen? why rate a film r and release it if there are going to be cuts? and why are the cuts done by a 5-year-old using windows moviemaker? your job does not stop at hunting down the dvd cloners. make those films available <i>legally</i> and ensure quality viewing in cinemas. (also, instead of showing a stupid comedy skit about illegal recording along with the trailers, they should threaten the morons and the assholes that they'd be kicked out with no refund for talking, texting, answering calls, commenting loudly, reacting unnecessarily, bringing children and ruining other folks' experience during the movie.)<br />
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now the issue regarding plagiarism, i don't want to even begin. ive already wasted two long paragraphs worth of your time and i'd rather start concluding this post than make it any more longer due to a topic i so strongly oppose. i'll just say: plagiarism is wrong, whether there's a law against it or not, and anyone who does not understand that simple fact should not be in public office.<br />
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why are there road constructions (ongoing or abandoned) everywhere? why do streets quickly turn into lakes after a little rain? why do we get our butts kicked in the olympics? why is it that no matter how hard you work, you'll never be richer than the already rich? because this country is being run by a bunch of buffoons doing half-assed jobs for double/triple the pay stolen from our pockets.jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-41393133945103344852012-08-23T08:40:00.001+08:002012-08-23T08:40:30.673+08:00whose timeline is it anyway?every week i take a bus to go home and i ride a particular line because it has a lower fare price. in fact, it is even lower than the regular discounted price for senior citizens. so i find it irritating, nay, insulting that an old man, with all the free movies on monday, dedicated queue and car on mrt/lrt, and all the other discounts available for him, would think that he deserves a discount for the already low fare. his reason? everybody was paying the same price so him being above 60 years old should pay less. the gall of this geriatric goon.<br />
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why people have this false sense of entitlement, i'll never understand. in this vein...<br />
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everybody, please shut up about not wanting to have your facebook timelined. this issue is really getting on my nerves. facebook is free. you are posting irrelevant blow-by-blow details of your mundane life every minute as statuses for free. you are connected to a ridiculous amount of people not even half of which are your real friends for free. you are sharing hypocritical quote photos, linking music videos, and putting stuff nobody cares about day after day on your wall for free. you are given the privilege of doing all of these things for free and yet you act like everything should be done the way you want. you are no different from a bum begging for money and scoffing if its a mere peso or that old man demanding his extra special treatment.<br />
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if getting timeline is that much of a problem for you, then by all means, deactivate your account and slither back to friendster, myspace or multiply. but if you can comprehend that not paying a single cent makes your complaint pointless and invalid, then shut that bitching hole up and deal with it.<br />
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p.s. how do you protest against protesters?<br />
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<br />jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-19424430167504081892012-06-27T08:35:00.000+08:002012-06-27T08:45:29.619+08:00thar she blows!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
nope. this isn't about pirates or piracy (whichever definition) nor is this about porn either. this one is about a question that has been poking at my neurons for a long time. and despite the hilarity of the premise, it is a very serious question that must be considered.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
the backstory: morning rush hour. picture yourself on your way to a very important appointment. let's say that it is an interview for a job so life-changing that you need to be there and be there on time. but for some reason, you have to use public transport. for this exercise, let's use the mrt (because i ride that every day). your car's broken, license is expired, no one can drive you to your destination on such short notice, whatever. you're taking the mrt. picture yourself dressed to nines. let's use male pov. new long sleeves tucked in, shiny belt buckle, polished shoes, clean cut hair, shaved face, you don't even want to sit and wrinkle your pants. you know you have a 99% chance of nailing the job. you just have to go through this final one-on-one looking, sounding, smelling and being your best.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
the sitch: standing in front of you is beautiful woman (handsome man if you're using the female pov) who looks like she's on her way home from an all-nighter party. she's holding on to the poles to stay upright. she looks like she'll pass out any minute. you realize the inevitable but you can't move in this sardine can. you hear her stomach turn over. you close your eyes as she hurls everything she ate and drank at you. her mouth is a barf geyser. you are immediately drenched by her stinky, sticky, chunky vomit. after the pukefest, the girl faints. the people who were previously standing so close around you are now miles away.</span><br />
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the question: what are you going to do?<br />
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p.s. nope this didn't happen to me. but i once rode in a bus and some kid puked and a small amount caught my shoe. i also almost always imagine a person on the back row of the bus vomiting on the person in front of them and then that person would then vomit on the person in front and so on and so on. vomit domino. vomino.<br />
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<br />jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-5734785954278760952012-06-20T20:28:00.000+08:002012-06-27T08:44:53.026+08:00the write stuff, part one<br />
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<br />
int. office cubicle - night<br />
jai, early 30s, is writing an entry for his blog instead of working. his team leader approaches and cuts off his arms with a chainsaw. his blood floods the office floor. a paper boat floats by, with two ants in the titanic pose. it is suddenly eaten by a great black shark.<br />
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seriosuly, i could really see myself writing shit like that for a living. not exactly like that but something that makes more sense. currently, i have about a dozen movie ideas and a bunch of random concepts gestating in my brain. i want to write them down, i really do, but:<br />
<br />
1. i dont have the time. well, of course, i can make time but with a family and a job on top of my priority list, i just won't be able to make enough. all my film ideas, from beginning to end, every line of dialogue, every sequence, they're all in my head. and when i write them down, i have to finish because one of my flaws is the moment i write an idea down, it gets erased in my brain. i dont now why (maybe to make space for new ones) but i just forget them completely. ive tried it a couple of times, just writing the first act. but when i come back to it, i just cant continue where i left off because i couldnt figure out a lot of things and tend to edit too much that i cant move on. its like retracing my steps and going, wait why did go this way again? i also tried making notes but that caused even greater headaches, sitting down, staring at the overlapping lines and arrows, words and names with double underlines, and wondering, what the heck did these mean? the solution to this is if could just do that thing that stephen king's protagonists do, cut myself off from the world, take a vacation in a strange town and type away without interruption.<br />
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2. its sort of pointless. i used to write by pencil and actually finish short stories. but in relation to #1, when i read them again, there's so much i want to edit. some i even want to throw away and burn. i guess during those years, i just wrote whatever came to mind, not thinking about sense, purpose, or marketability. a few years ago i did a couple of pitches for an indie film to a friend. he said they weren't socially relevant. i never knew they had to be. since then, ive lost hope. i still dream of making films but ive accepted the fact that it just might not ever happen. no one's willing to invest in my ideas. i dont have the funds to do it on my own. i could still try and go straight to the big guys but we all know that requires connections and i have this fear that they would reject a pitch but use it anyway as if it was theirs. my last chance to penetrate this filthy industry and clean it up is to save up and go back to school.<br />
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i remember when i was filling out forms for college, i wanted to tick the checkboxes for film and literature as my first and second course choices respectively. my mom talked me out of it (she said i wont earn anything from them) and instead made me choose business administration. i dropped out after two years. now i cant really blame her. being the eldest grandchild, i was the principal candidate for taking over the family business. but i do think that my parents shouldn't have expected that i'd actually fit that role, having seen grade schooler me rip out used pages from notebooks to turn them into comic books at the end of every school year. they never stopped me but they didnt support me either, not until after college did they realize that maybe it was the path i was supposed to take. but by then it was too late. my mom said that i could have simply just switched courses instead of dropping out. but it still meant i wasted so much time away from honing my craft. that's like riding a bus to destination a, getting off at midpoint, going back all the way home and taking the bus to destination b. except that i had already missed the bus.<br />
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but like i said, i dont blame my parents. i have learned to understand that they just didnt understand me. they didnt know what to do with a boy who refused to go out and play with other kids so that he could live in his make-believe world. the most they could do with my "talent" was have me do my siblings' projects that involved writing or drawing. my mom took me to a painting class once which i didnt like because all we did was copy things. here's a photograph, clone it using a pentagraph. let's go to the park, paint that monument. no thank you, sir, i want to create. (but also because im bad with colors)<br />
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i love my parents. i love them the way they are. if i could relive the past, i'd still pretty much want them the way they were. it would be me that would do things differently. i'd be more of a rebel as i should have been. i'd pursue my dream regardless of what they say. because it's a dream that should not be ignored, put aside, or shunned, like it's a dream of being a murderer and killing people (although it basically is, fictionally). it's a great dream that should be embraced, cherished and encouraged with fervor. had it been so, i would not be constantly tormented by ideas hankering to materialize right now. i'd probably be hunched over a laptop typing a screenplay or a novel at this very moment, instead of this blogpost.<br />
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and so, i close with a promise to fully support my daughter's ambitions as long as they have no direct negative effects to anyone, most especially to herself.jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-90197131115650234022012-06-14T19:49:00.000+08:002012-06-14T19:49:43.886+08:00gamechangeoh yeah, i have a blog.<br />
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this part is where im supposed to explain why i havent posted anything in a long while but screw that. also, the answer to the riddle of the last entry is the letter a. also, you shouldnt really start a sentence with also but screw that as well. formal writing is raped in this joint.<br />
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so, on with the show: i keep realizing how being married and having a kid has change my life, especially being in a workplace populated mostly by single people. now, enumerating and discussing everything that's different between statuses warrant time and effort im not able to provide, so i'll aim the crosshairs on the top of the list: money.<br />
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my current job salary is almost the same as my previous job's. and yet back then, the last week before the next payday was when i suddenly would acquire budgeting skills. there were even times when i was actually flat broke on payday eve and slept off the hunger (sometimes id clean up my apartment and hunt for spare change). i used to think fate was being exclusively mean to me, torturing me for my poor finance management. but, as my work friends would attest to, zero-responsibility stable job woes are quite common. paydays are like divine drizzle to desert dwellers despaired of decades-old drought. (yay alliteration)<br />
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anyway, after a year of putting off the purchase and prioritizing family necessities as a good husband and father ought to do, a couple of months ago, i splurged a bit and bought a pc. my first time to buy with my own, hard-earned money. the primary reason for this was pity. pity for myself, having endured the headaches of using an old, ultralow end pc that frequently required excessive force to turn on; and pity for the said pc. at first, all it needed was a gentle shake to start up. but it quickly escalated to punching and kicking it to life. when kratos, the name i chose for the new machine, came i went to the old guy to transfer some files and it miraculously turned on at first button-push. and i was like, too late to plead for your salvation, asshole.<br />
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kratos is quite fast and capable. specs are not as high as a hardcore gamer's but it runs the latest games pretty well. my wife also uses it for photoshop and it runs smoothly. my daughter loves watching the clownfish swim around in the aquarium screensaver. i have yet to used it for video editing but judging by how fast it converts videos (to mp4 for my psp), render duration likely wouldn't be as much of an exercise in timekilling as it used to be. inevitably, it'll start showing its age and decrease in performance a bit, but i have plans to gradually do a few upgrades by then. for now, it's perfect. the workstation thin client i use in the office is its bitch.<br />
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<br />jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-71247615953430686122012-02-15T19:10:00.001+08:002012-02-15T20:28:09.324+08:00observe & retort<br />
woke up, couldn't return to sleep, decided to blog... but with two conditions. the first one is i must write ten sentences or more. the second one is to be kept secret, which hopefully visitors will find out themselves by the end of this post. this exercise might be difficult for some but those with clever minds or keen eyes will surely spot the puzzle quickly. if you know the solution, put it in the comments. you win nothing, however, except for the pride of figuring the mystery out.<br />
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i'm not sure i'll write enough so i'll just include some nonsense. 1 to 999. i love odd numbers. crocodiles on tv. dinner tonight is porkchop. the bell curve sucks. sherlock rules!<br />
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googling isn't prohibited. not sure it would help though. unless someone else did this before me, which isn't impossible. how to look for it, now there's the tricky piece. still, i don't think i'm the first one to do this on their blog, but if so, then the better it serves my scheme. so people of the web, i implore you, use your intelligence to decipher this condundrum. the clock's ticking. time limit: one week.<br />
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p.s. i dont know where i got this from. someone committed suicide in my subconscious world then i opened my eyes to this concept which would not let go lest i digitize it. do i think it's cool? yes. will it be news/link worthy? i doubt. <br />
p.p.s. guessed it yet? do not give up though. clue: something very common is missing from this post.jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-38188973758941185202012-02-04T09:48:00.000+08:002012-06-20T17:25:41.992+08:00ii<div style="direction: ltr; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">day after tomorrow, my daughter turns two years old. day after today is when we'll celebrate it. day after yesterday, i post my blog opener for the year and as i flip through my memory tome, i realize how much has changed. iaine has grown a lot as a little lady and i have grown a lot as a man.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">during my bachelor years, i often questioned my purpose. i went from job to job, none of them lasting for more than a year. i'd withdraw my salary and spend it all. then i'd be broke and alone and i'd space out contemplating my life. i was trapped in that cyle for too long with nary a penny put aside for the proverbial precipitation period. even when jeean came into my life, i still lacked that special skill to cope with workplace bullshit.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">when iaine was born, something was triggered in me. when i saw her for the first time, i knew the answer. suddenly, my life had reason. that i had to man up and take care of this child. it was my chance to prove i was worth something. no more impulse buying and pointless splurging. no more happy-go-lucky, devil-may-care attitude. no more quitting when the corporate heat is unbearable. iaine is my north. iaine is my bottomless hero drink. iaine is my gravity. iaine is my 42.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">now, i have a stable job and i could provide for my family with more than enough to spare. i have had two promotions and very much inspired to pursue the next rung on the ladder. it has been two years of watching a slice of evolution unfold before my very eyes, of bragging about her early milestones and pwning parenthood copycats, of going home tired and sleepy but staying awake to watch her dream, of feeling complete. im sure that as time goes by, she'll have more ways to make me happy, amazed and proud as a father. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">happy second birthday, iaine. i love you very much.</span></div>
</div>jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-10206426644887335592011-12-01T10:29:00.000+08:002012-02-07T10:30:30.219+08:00perchance to dream<br />
the other day, my dream was in english. also, it was an episode of walking dead. some of the characters from the show were there. some were my real-life relatives. and they were speaking english. it ended with rick grimes turning into a zombie himself. then his head grew really huge and he started eating everything up a la langoliers.<br />
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i dream of having a dream with subtitles someday<br />jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-2490143464298742072011-11-17T18:57:00.001+08:002011-11-17T19:04:11.788+08:00a sticky situation<br />
lately, traversing the information superhighway has been a bumpy ride. our dsl at home has long been disconnected (4k bucks reactivates it, which i'm actually contemplating on). my sister's myfi is luck-based. and the wifi in my dad's office is no faster than dial-up. seriously, all it needs is the modem sound and im back in '90s.<br />
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and so halfway through no-shave november, i decided to get globe's superstick. after several trips to the local mall, i got the sleek gizmo the other day. but i didn't get to use it until today because of the sim activation period of 24-48 hours. and when i did finally get to use it, the laptop i was using (my dad's) shut off by itself. turns out, the power adaptor went kaput. so i went out and bought a new one. and when i did finally get to use the darn superstick, the connection kept breaking that i couldn't even finish a speed test.<br />
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do you know when it finally worked glitch-free? when i was dressed for work and about to leave. with less than half an hour to enjoy the fruits of my labor, i watched my downloads disappear from the queue. the speed wasnt as high as advertised but it was fast enough, faster than that time when it was raining hard and flooding everywhere and the bandwidth gods gave me magic internet for a day.<br />
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hopefuly globe holds their end of the bargain and keep it up. else, this thing is getting shoved up someone's pooper.jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-66779752489114563552011-11-09T19:41:00.000+08:002011-11-17T19:03:25.282+08:00uno dos stressin the movies, when someone wakes up from a nightmare's climax, they
usually bolt up in bed screaming. never happened to me. usually i stay
in the dream to find out what happens next but sometimes it would be so
scary i'd have to wake myself up. and it's
not even like when it's an extreme close-up of the eyes and they
suddenly open up accompanied by a sound effect. nope, i simply slowly
open my eyes.<br />
<br />
anyways, when i woke up today, i didn't want to go to work. not that i
hate my job (excluding that one guy, i love it). it's just that lately
i've been feeling so stressed. sporadic headaches, abnormal crankiness,
irritable bowel syndrome, and tired feeling
even after enough sleep. i contemplated texting my team leader about
not coming in. instead, i put on my glasses, got up and dragged myself
to the bathroom. it used to be so easy use the big invisible book of
excuses and skip work. but things have changed
and i now earn the dough for my family. so yeah, screw my shitty sick
shtick. off to the beehive i go.<br />
<br />
but seriously, this stress thing is getting way worse than i can handle. so much that as a person who hates depending on medicine and doctors, im actually open to the idea of taking vitamins.<br />
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(the text above was typed on the blog post date but i was too stressed out that i never finished it. so now i am.)<br />
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as always, time with my beautiful family cured me. i remember a few weeks ago, jeean and iaine came to manila for my youngest sister's graduation lunch. when i came home from work that morning, i opened the door to a very happy iaine running towards me saying poppa. and that was it. that was all i needed. i had to man up and survive the stress week, go home and find solace in the sweet loving limbs of my wonderful wife and disarmingly cute daughter.jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20376633.post-79679099496728473132011-10-27T19:30:00.000+08:002011-10-27T19:30:00.687+08:00monochrome optique<br />
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my ludovico project is near culmination. i actually feared i'd fail to hit the target what with the scarce personal free time of a working family man. i managed to finish the movies during bathroom breaks, idle time at work and several moments pre and post sleep. right now, the focus is on black and white movies, squeezing in one or two colored ones. if you're bored, interested, or insane and want to check my progress, you can flutter by my twitter by stabbing the chocobo on the right with your mouse pointer.<br />
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anyways, i bet this one's never crossed your mind: when people do countdowns, say 1-5, why do they always count like this: 1, 2, 3, 4, 4 1/2, 4 3/4, 5? why not 1, 2, 3, 4, 4 1/3, 4 2/3, 4 3/4, 5?! why do they always skip 2/3?<br />
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i seriously think that a law against giving atm cards and driving licenses to idiots should be passed. what a quick cash withdrawal and diaper purchase turned into an expletive-laden test of patience due to these intelligence-deprived creatures. these imbeciles have some sort of belief that they're special and important and so they make you waste your time waiting for them as they struggle to accomplish a supposedly simple task. typical atm routine of a moron: insert card, check balance, get card, look at receipt, decide on amount to withdraw, insert card again, take a while to figure it how much to withdraw, time runs out, get card, look at receipt again, insert card again, withdraw cash, get card, look at new receipt, decide to withdraw again, insert card, withdraw cash, get card, look at receipt and for some apparent reason these motherfuckers have exclusive knowledge of, they complete disergard the long queue of irate people behind them and insert the atm card for the last time to check the balance again! somebody please murder these people.<br />
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p.s. yes. random shit again. but this relaxes my earlobes.<br />
p.p.s. hmm i guess hard work does pay off sometimes. i hope this goes on so i wouldn't have to leave this country and my family.<br />jaiskizzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09401925315141783562noreply@blogger.com0