It still breaks my heart up to this day to know that he’s really gone.

followthesailor:

davidlloydglover:

THE FINAL PERFORMANCE acrylic on canvas 40” x 30” 

Painted the day after Michael Jackson’s passing two years ago.  The original painting sold in Tokyo Japan for 10 million yen.  Order an open edition print from Masterworks Art. A very popular seller worldwide.

This is just magical and beautiful.

Something is different. It’s not just the mood or the weather or even the phase. It is everywhere. Something is up. And it’s only a matter of time till all will be revealed. One thing I learned in this life is if you feel that there is something ‘off’ in your gut, then there must be something ‘off’.

Will be more observant for the next months.

While I may have effed up some certain parts of my life, I am grateful that I am still here.

Sane yet Insane.

Jaded yet Romantic.

Nice yet Cruel.

I have my love, my family and my art. Because while money makes the world go around, if either one of these three are missin’ in my life, I think I am as good as dead.

Money Money Money…too much or too little of it can kill you.

As my significant other would say, that while we may all have the potential to be overnight billionaires, it is the attitude and the humility that you bring to the table that will assess your right to be one. Whether you’re an asshole or simply the nicest person in the universe..we ALL that have opportunity.

I would rather be nice. The feeling is….nice kasi. XD

Today was a good day.

I managed to brave the erratic rainshowers of Chedeng’s stormtail and attended a garage sale. The journey was, but let me just say, easy peasy. First off, the area of the said garage sale is just 10 minutes away from my place. And plus, I know it will be good because the person who is selling her pieces is none other than Ms. Ingrid Chua-Go a.k.a. The Baghag of thebaghagdiaries.com and thebaghag.tumblr.com …so I know her stuff would be good.

So after I had my manicure (for tomorrow’s occasion, a cousin’s wedding), I hopped in a cab and sped to The Tresorie located at Dona Consolacion Building, Jupiter Street. The ride uneventful except I was praying silently for the good stuff to be there.

After a clumsy exit from the cab, I summoned whatever courage I have in me, for back then I was at first, intimidated to go into the store. I will go on to say I am not comfortable being surrounded with luxury items whose price tags are worth more than my salary.

But, I always wanted to check out The Tresorie, just for curiosity’s sake. Reading The Baghag’s blog got me intrigued. 

Having summoned enough courage, I finally went up a small flight of stairs to the second floor, glided inside and made a beeline to the racks of clothes at the right corner. Of course I saw Ms. Ingrid and we greeted each other briefly, she was also busy entertaining bag queries from other shoppers.

So, amidst all the chanel, hermes and alexander wangs, I already had my eye on 2 pieces, having checked out the tumblr blog the day before. Having spotted the racks of clothes at the right corner of the store, I knew..(oh yez I can feel it), I would find my trophies. 

And sure enough I did.

Here is my haul:

A Tribute to Marimekko x H&M Dress: I am no fan of big prints. But I love Marimekko and I always wanted to own a piece from them.

Origami Pleated Dress: I have a couple of weddings to attend and so I am looking for dresses to stock up. When I saw this, I fell in love, and thank goodness it fits perfectly! 

Aren’t they lovely? I feel like I won a million bucks. 

I am sad I didn’t get to buy this though:

Divina Parisian Graphic Coat: it is simply too big for me. No matter how I tried to justify, I know it will make me look awkward. So after much debate, I just had to let it go. 

As quickly as I came, I paid my purchases, said my goodbyes to Ingrid and her wonderful staff and went back home. I tried the dresses and can’t get over how they are simply beautiful..and I can’t wait to wear them.

I hope there would be more garage sales like this. Too bad it is not a whole day thing, they opened at 12nn and would only be there till 6pm. So to anyone who still want to catch the sale, you have **looks at clock** 1 more hour to shop. Just go to:

Tresorie Manila2/F Dona Consolacion Bldg 122 Jupiter Street Makati (between Franck Provost Salon & Red Ribbon)12:00 noon- 6:00 pmTel. (02) 890-0037

It’s a good Saturday. I hope you’re having a good one too.

**pictures courtesy of The Baghag at thebaghag.tumblr.com

Last weekend (with the whole rapture thing) had me thinking of how we both live our lives presently, and I realized:

What if the life that we’re presently living is THIS LIFE? What if there is no After Life? That like the mermaid story, we just turn into foam? Or we return to dust and quietly slumber? No heaven, purgatory or hell..or the whole religion crap that society’s been feeding us since the beginning of civilization.

Then what have we lived for?

It is best that we live NOW and we live to the best that we could.

If we get married and have a child, and even if our child may not turn out to be the child that we yearn and ideal, at least we tried..at least we lived to do it.

We can die knowing that we did everything we could. We set dreams and try to achieve it. We love, laugh and cry. We fight for what is right and acknowledge what is wrong.

We could turn back into dust or to foam, but we leave knowing that we are who we are. Even just small significant flicker of legacy, it would live on forever.

We have to try.

- A conversation between me and a man close to me named Dark Gravity

Dear High School,

You were unbearable.

There, I said it.

After all these years, I still carried with me a small but sharp bitter fruit that became my weakness…and my strength. There were times I dreamt still, of dreading to put on that horrible checkered uniform, and trying to live through the days that went by in a haze, efforts to be accepted, to be welcomed..and yet rejected.

And I would be so relieved when I do wake up within the familiar four corners of my room, to the present me.

My only solace had always been the library, my drawings, the slivers of entertainment of japanese animation and the people who had the time of day to accept my strangeness…but in truth, I rarely let anyone in, most barely even scratched the surface, that even I, the very host of my whole being, is also confounded.

My memories were hazy, as I said in the beginning. I barely recalled anything from you. Not even the most trivial events that occurred. I guess I may have blocked them unconsciously when I finally stepped into college. The only things I remembered were a few of wonderful qualities, of kindness and unique quirks of people that stuck in my mind up to this day.

Like the lovely times with a girl, who headbangs with her long hair that it’s a powerful force of its own, listens to NU 107 from morning to night and became my constant companion to some of our first parties and variety shows at the neighboring boys’ school. She serves the sweetest ice cream that I had ever tasted. Yet ironically, she is solid about everyone getting perfect teeth. She was my strength, which her strong personality overflows and I absorb it. Her laughter infectious and familiar, that chased away the demons sitting on my shoulder.

Or a kind girl who has a mini etch-a-sketch keychain attached to her pencil case, who twirled her pen effortlessly around her thumb and index finger while she reviewed for our exams. She rarely gets cold in our igloo of a classroom, a supernatural feat. I would often nap between classes near her table, beneath the schoolbags and the space by the wall, her presence often a comfort. She has always been nice to me, and even if I may not say it so much, I value her friendship a lot. Her aura is calm and I am naturally drawn to her.

A small group of friends, who were a batch lower than me, every time I remember them, I smell the newly cut grass, the hot yellow sun and the blue, blue skies. They once, took the effort to throw me a small party (it could be a birthday or a going away party because I was on my senior year..see what I mean for hazy memories). They even gave me a small star pendant made of murano glass…which I still kept to this day. It was wonderful. And even if it’s a little late, I am grateful and thankful for that act of kindness and wonderful camaraderie that was given and received. It made my last years in High School bearable

In my travels, in my present life struggles….and even in the things I love to do, these memories stuck with me. regardless of what 70% of my life spent with you had been hell. It’s a story that is all too painful, all too familiar, which intensified to today’s youth. And had already claimed so many young lives. A Sad Reality.

But it is true, so true, when they say that kindness can go a long way, because it really does. The people who do matter are the people who had come to accept, to mature and to value. Who are not fleeting, petty and looks through the world without judgement or ill will.

But the small bitter fruit is still in me, and I still carry it in my heart. And no matter what my mother and a few of my close friends would tell me to let it go, I will say it today that I cannot. And I will not. For while it may be my weakness, it is also my strength. The path I chose since I graduated made me who I am today and it made me stronger. The bitterness I tasted from those years kept me aware, kept me going, kept me hungry and kept me learning.

However, beneath all that, you gifted me with foundation to sought wisdom, to make life choices that are long term, to be emphatic and sympathetic. To love without fail and to wish no ill to others. And in the times of darkness, I knew from the very bottom of my heart even then, even just a flicker, that things will get better.

And I would be forever grateful to my friend, a half cherokee native american who taught me early on to find strength within when all is lost.

So, while I may not go to the Grand Alumni reunion anytime soon, I do hope and pray that the kids over there can find the strength and the love they can get. I hope that you are their protector, their home away from home, and assure them that there is life beyond the pristine white walls, the constant yearning for acceptance and Mang Baguio. It is not all about the money, or the family pedigree, but the growth of the child, and with so many suicides from children today, I wondered if there is hope left to an institution like you.

I hope I am wrong. Please prove me wrong if you must.

For now, perhaps when the bitterness has toned down in time, and when my life has complete its full circle, then I will come back.

From a Life Student,

Camy

Just felt a small quake. And I’m at the 33rd floor of the condo.

Praying there is no other one coming. Take care everyone.