Dread Words

Break- off- illustrates teeth falling off and decaying along with one’s primary blood- pumping organ
Cool off- suggests a warm relationship in need of deep freezing which just might be forever
Frank- a guy more tactless than Kris Aquino
I- sharp- sounding syllable where the universe eternally revolves
Impulse- a moment governed by a heartbeat
I Hate You- three words uttered in calculated fear of seeing one’s id reflected in a living human
I Love You- three words never spoken in sobriety or for that matter, in sanity
Obese- an over- weight Chinese wearing an obi
Politics- address of a beautiful, freshly- painted mansion with a dusty, rusty, rotting interior
Pushy- a softer version of pussy; to forcefully get what one wants without his reproductive organ
Queer- the title of the King of Fairies
You- dust, lint, amoeba, compared to I

The Incredible Absorbing Man

He is your all-around humor machine who never fails to make you laugh, even when you feel like eating live humans. He is your user friendly bag tree, and for that matter, anything you don’t want to carry.
He tells you again that he likes that outfit you’ve worn seven times already. He believes with all his heart that you never, and will never, get fat. He doesn’t wear a tight Spandex costume, and may usually just come in jeans and perhaps, a white shirt.
But he has superpowers nobody thought was possible.
After all, he puts up with you.

Sometimes, well, you just get mean. Maybe it’s the PMS acting up or the heat of the sun ruining your hairdo and your patience. Whatever the reason is, your niceness sublimes like a rotting mothball and the lucky target is him, the all-around humor machine, user-friendly bag tree, and costume- less wonder.
How could you?
Rather, how could he?
Take it, I mean.
You snipe and nag and act as if the universe revolves only around you, its Most Excellent and Most Gracious Empress. It is, after all, the express prerogative of the female species, and you never let him forget it for a nanosecond. He says ‘sorry’ all the time and sometimes you get nasty suspicions about it being kind if mechanical, like ‘hello’ and ‘you’re not fat’. You don’t care.
In any case, you are the Empress.
He is not the Emperor, not the King, not even a Prince.
Just a plain ol’ superhero.

not a word is getting through to me
when you scream
i’m a sponge
i soak it up
all the crap you put me through
won’t make me give up

The tragedy of all this is that he loves you. Maybe more than you love your self- centered self. He is willing to do anything and everything for you if he could. It’s not even a matter of you giving him a chance to do so, no, but a preening capability to give him all the damn chance in the world for you to enjoy the fruits of his suffering.
But beware.
The Incredible Absorbing Man may someday lose his incredibility.
Someone said that that if you abuse it, you will lose it. Someone sang that you will only miss the water when the well is gone. Whatever appropriate clichés there are, you should know how to appreciate your personal superhero and all his efforts. Its hard being in love with someone and getting nada for your pain and affection, and the least that you can do is let him know that you value all the tremendous amounts of superpowers utilized by just being in love with you.
In spite of you.

i will never falter
i will never quit
you’ll never find another
who’ll put up with this shit...

The Proud and the Sorry

How high is your pride?

Pride is a survival mechanism. It saves a person's ego, therefore, it saves that person's sanity and makes him function normally. In cases where mistakes are made and faults are uneccessarily revealed, Pride saves us from ourselves since we are automatically blinded to, what else, ourselves. Ourselves, our cynical, hypocritical, selves.

How sorry can you be?

When a person is sorry and when he says it, a big gunk of pride is scraped off his system and the blinders covering his perception of himself partially opens. It takes a certain amount of will to say 'Sorry' especially when you know that you are not the one who is at fault. Then again, who is to say when one is wrong and one is right?
So easy to be blinded, so hard to accept it.

Some people are too proud to say sorry.
Some are proud but sorry people.

A few are proud to be saying sorry and accepting the fact that no one is perfect, and that saying 'sorry' is something to be proud of in itself. The will to say it and not just feel it is a severe exercise in courage and humility, both of which we need in generous amounts to make this world a happier place to be.

Tangnang Buhay Yan

mahal ko ang mundo. mahal ko ang buhay. mahal ko ang isang tao. pero minsan, nakakainis. nakakabaliw.
kunsabagay, ano ba naman ang maaasahan mo?
wunnerful world nga, ikaw nga.
tangnang buhay yan.
paano mo malalalaman kung ang ginagawa mo ay tama o mali? kung ang iniisip mo na wala lang ay meron pala? kung ano ang 'ayos lang' sa 'hindi naman'?
ang nipis ng linyang naghahati sa persepsyon at damdamin ng isang tao. madalas, nauungusan ng puso ang pagkakaintindi. nahahaluan na ng hindi pagkakaunawaan ang isang bagay na simple lang naman talaga dahil ang nararamdaman ang nauuna.
paano na yan?
paano mo malalaman ang gagawin mong tama kung ang inakala mong tamang ginagawa ay mali naman pala?
tangnang buhay yan.


pero mahal kita.
patawad sa lahat.
hindi na mauulit.

Nag-aapoy Na Sticker Kuno

tumataba na ako. mahirap tanggapin ang masaklap na katotohanan, pero...tu...tu-tu...tuma...ta...ba... na ako.
argh!
susmaryosep, marami akong masisisi! si mama! una, dahil sobra ang binibigay niyang baon sa akin. napapakain ako ng marami kahit hindi ko naman intensyon. kapag nasa RobManila na kami ay hindi ko na mapigilan lumamon...ng lumamon...ng lumamon. hindi rin nakakatulong na ang mga madalas kong kasama ay walang pakundangan tumira ng pagkain.
ang isa sa pinakamalapit kong kaibigan (na itago na lang natin sa pangalang Betch) ay tumataba na rin. nga lang, ang pinagkaiba namin ay siya WALANG PAKIALAM. at ako, well, hulaaan niyo! kapag nakita niyo siya (na nakatago sa pangalang BETCH) ay mukhang matinong nilalang. pero kapag nagkwento na siya tungkol sa food intake niya, hala! mahaHALA! na lang. kunsabagay, sino ba naman ang may self-control kung ang refrigerator niya ay puno ng tsokolate? ha?
dumako naman tayo sa isa ko pang matalik na kaibigan na itatago sa pangalang Cc. si cc ay mataba na talaga. at tumataba pa siya. wala rin siyang pakialam sa timbang niya. ayan, sige, lamon din ng lamon, walang pakialam kung atakihin sa puso o masagasaan ng tren!
minsan, nahihirapan akong maintindihan sila. bakit ganoon? walang butong weight conscious sa kanilang dalawa. hindi ba nila nararamdaman ang pressure ng buong mundo para maging payat? hindi ba sila natatakot na malagyan ng nag-aapoy na sticker sa noo nila na nakalagay (in pink) na "MATABA AKO!"?
ahhhhhhh...
yun ang problema sa akin. masyado akong may pakialam sa sasabihin ng iba (hoy Paul!), kahit na yung mga hindi ko kakilala. masyado akong naimpluwensiyahan ng mga magazine, libro, at mga palabas na napapanood ko sa telebisyon kung paano ako dapat maging ako. nadiktahan ako ng mga mukhang blanko na nakapaligid sa akin, at dahil sa aking maitim na imahinasyon, nalalagyan ko ng panghuhusga ang kanilang dati'y blankong mukha.
tama ba yon?
hindi. kailangan nang magbago.
ng pananaw.
***
pero, even though, ayoko pa rin tumaba. for practical reasons. una, kapag sale, mahirap maghanap ng damit na kakasya sa iyo. yung mga sizes kasi na available, limitado dahil naguubos na lang naman sila sa imbentaryo nila. pangalawa, mahirap magplantsa ng mga malalapad na pantalon at blusa. unnecessary hassle. pangatlo, ayokong magtapon o amagin ang mga damit na meron na ako. sayang at sa aking paningin, maganda sila. gusto ko pa sanang magamit, siguro, kahit 46 years old na ako. :P

Silverfingers and Other Some Such Species

He’s not as good as Goldfinger (as no one will ever be) but he’s good enough to spend a 7am class awake. As opposed to Goldfinger, who only has one ringed finger, Silverfingers has four of his right- hand appendages surrounded by silver circlets. Hence, the name.
He is our professor for Geology this semester. And who would have thought that he’s one of the only two micro paleontologists in the Philippines? He has fascinating stories about his fieldwork, especially that one about Tibet which has holes for toilet bowls and nada for fecal privacy.

We also have Mikee. She is our professor for Communications II, and graduated magna cum laude just this year. She has permed curly hair plus the glib and the sass to live up to it. Thus, when everyone first set eyes on her, they thought she was a woman.
That, my dear block mates, is certainly not a meaningless assertion.

The next on the list is Mr. Tae Kwan Do. He will be teaching us, what else, Tae Kwan Do for PEHM II. Astig siya! At panalo mare! Panalo!
He said that he has never lost any fight. He also won the silver medal for the World Tae Kwan Do Festival. He teaches the martial art at Ateneo and other exclusive schools in Manila.
At panalo siya mare. Panalo.

For Political Science we have Ramota who is also a fresh graduate, from just last year. He is like a big brother, reminiscent of Sir Ronnie from high school. They have the same approach and rapport with students, which means that they still remember how it was to be one. I like calling him Ramota. It sounds cool. Ramotaramotaramotaramota.

We have Prof. Llanes for Psychology 101. I can’t call her anything else for her age alone commands respect. Utter respect. She is like a grand old dame, benign and wistful. But she days ‘gonna’ and ‘divah!’ Hm.
“So you know, our brain is protected by the skull, right.”

For the finale: we have Dr. Sioco for Philosophy. She hasn’t taught yet, just the customary introductions and house rules, but there is only one word to describe her: maligalig. Uh. She seems very pleased to be terrorizing, erm, educating us in the schools of thought.
By the way, she chairs the Department of Social Sciences.
And she does not want any crap papers stuck in her pigeonhole.

Our profs are cool this sem. It only means one thing: we have to work harder.
Bring it on.

Gravity

Wind dies down to give way to calm. Leaves fall after their play for forever. Rain plummets in sheets to wet the parched earth.
Empires rise and powder onto dust. Golden Ages alight and fly away like weightless feathers. Man himself rejoins the soil as his flesh and bone melds with it.
Tell me, what is permanent?

Dear Mikee

“So okay, give me your name and tell me something unique about you,” said our new Communications teacher. I was the first person at the end of the first row, and it just so happened that he/she/it chose my end.
“My name is Lizette Lanuzo.”
“Come again?”
“Lizette Lanuzo po.”
“Ah okay…well? What’s unique about you?”
“Ahh…uhm…can I just answer that later?” I stuttered, and hated myself for doing so.

∞∞∞
Until now, I don’t know what happened. I pride myself in knowing myself. I am, after all, self-centered. Selfish, and other adjectives in the same vein.
But then, the question.
What is unique about me?
Is it the fact that I own Bogart, along with her lice eating talents? Or that my fashion sense is as mercuric as, well, mercury? Or that I’ve written a song which when any person hears he/ she goes crazy over? Or, maybe, that I learned how to play the guitar from my second year PEHM book which only dedicated only about five pages to the topic.
What is unique about me?
What I’ve mentioned above seems to answer the question. But I don’t feel so! Those things do not make me unique! It makes only a certain part of Lizette unique. But it does not make Lizette as an individual unique.

∞∞∞
A block mate said that she is unique because she likes classical music. Another one said that she loves ketchup. The others mentioned being an intellectual jock, being friendly and cheerful, disliking vegetables, hating manggang hilaw…and so on. Someone simply said that she is not unique at all.

∞∞∞
Uniqueness these days seem to be a prime commodity, to be priced, labeled, and bought.

∞∞∞
“What?” exclaimed our Comm teacher, “I’m teaching a class full of drones?!” He/she/it said it as if being a ‘drone’ is the ultimate sin. In a world where uniqueness and therefore individuality is as important as branded shoes and clean toilets, it seems as if ‘drone’ is equal to ‘dunce’ is equal to ‘loser’ and must therefore be kept secret if not plastered on your forehead.
Consequently, we have learned to brand people according to the established stereotypes as dutifully taught by the media, our family, our church, and other such major influences. There is the ‘Nerd’, ‘Punk’, ‘Ms. Goody Two Shoes’, and ‘Overweight’, to give a few categories. So how can we expect people, even ourselves, to understand who we really are and appreciate our uniqueness if from the beginning we have been judged and victimized by the shallow classifications of society?
Uniqueness is not something one has, does, thinks, and says. I do not believe it can be labeled, or described. How, with the billions of people on this planet, could one be completely sure that one’s specific trait deemed unique, unique at all? It’s the little something about the person you can never quite…put a finger to. You just know it’s there, and you sense it every time you’re with the person.

∞∞∞
Well, Mr. /ms. Mikee, this one is for you.
I don’t know what’s unique about me.
I don’t really want to know and I’m proud that I don’t know.

There. I’ve answered your question.

The Cynic Speaks

I used to scribble my thoughts on notebooks, which I call journals, usually every night before I go to sleep. I hid them under my bed or just scattered them around my room and hope that my parents take it for, say, a Calculus notebook (fat chance). These notebooks tell how I grew up all throughout high school (assuming I really did), what I thought about this, or that, and how I felt about them.
They told of what I have learned.

I wrote this on July 13 last year. It is…amusing. I didn’t know I was so bitter.

‘LOVE CONQUERS ALL”. It’s so easy to say it. It sounds so good to the ears. But it’s not true, at least in the case of romantic love.
It is not true.
People can be willing to give their hearts and soul to someone, but in the end they take it back. For a number of reasons: They find out that their love is not as strong as they thought it was. They end up loving someone else. They have to make sacrifices for other things. They have to make so many choices, that they take the easiest way out: to just give it up.
Why can’t it be that when you love someone you just live happily ever after then? Why do we have to want so much, demand so much, dream and hope for so much? Why can’t you just stay in a corner, say ‘I love you’ and just stay in that corner and love him or her forever? Human nature, I guess. Love must be equal to love form the other side.
So let’s say the person loves you too: perfect equation, love= love. Then what? Choices. So many choices. You can’t just stay in a corner and love him or her forever. Choices. Should I make sacrifice for him? Should I wait for her? Should I believe him? Should I trust her? Should I continue this relationship? Should I …should I. Fairytales are so misleading.
Since we are just humans, we make mistakes in the choices we make. And that is where love falters. Love conquers all? Does love conquer mistakes? Faults? Broken promises? Time?
Why can’t love be simple?
Change. Because of change. ---10:16 pm


I was in the middle of being in ‘love’ with someone (Kevin) who treated me like invisible dung. Go figure! I was mooning all over the place. I was decrying all hope for me ever getting over my, erm, infatuation.
So now I’m a year older.
I’m writing in my new journal…

What have I learned?

I have learned that love conquers all, if it were the kind that’s true. I have learned that love is a risk, an investment, a gamble that may or may not pay off. I have learned that choices and mistakes are rarely two different nouns. That to make something work out between two people is as much a miracle as sheer human effort.
That love is never simple. It was never made to be.
That the only constant thing on earth is change.
That if your heart was just a dirty mess a year ago, things may change and mend it up.
That a cynic, open to change and its many lessons, may just turn into a hopeless romantic.



( And back.
Who knows?)

Mananagalog Muna Ako

nyap, wala na yatang nagbabasa ng blog ko! may mga nagta-tag, dumadagdag araw-araw yung mga numero sa counter ko, pero sa palagay ko, wala naman talagang nagbabasa ng blog ko.
kunsabagay. minsan, hindi, palagi, yung mga recent posts ay masyadong malalim para sa panlasa ng masang pilipino. pero hindi ko na ipapangakong baguhin iyon.
eto ako. ganito ako mag-isip kapag tinopak.
whatever. dahil impersonal ang posts ko, ill give it a break and write something really personal...sa mga gustong makaalam, kung sakali. ^_^
so. love life!
um. umiibig ako ngayon sa isang lalaking nangangalang geronimo. ang nickname ko sa kanya ay Cc. ang pakiramdam ay yung tipong this iz eet! pero siyempre, malay natin. sa ngayon...
mabait siya. pero teka. kung ang pagiging 'mabait' ay nasusukat sa pagbibigay ng lahat ng kailangan mo, lahat ng gusto mo, kahit na rin yung mga bagay na hindi mo kailangan at hindi mo naman talaga gusto, aba, eh, kulang ang salitang mabait para i-describe si cc!
kakaibang tao si cc. baluktot din mag-isip, tulad ko. kaklase ko rin sa unibersidad ng pilipinas. aktibista. sensitibo. kakaiba.
nung una kaming nagkakilala, nakapila kami sa RH- 227 para sa advising. suot ko noon yung outfit ko na kulang na lang ay electric guitar. nagugutom, nangangalay, naiinitan, napapagod--- yun lang yung reklamo ko sa loob-loob ko. naka-off rin yung hi-my-name's-lizette mood ko.
napaka-unromantic na setting!
anyway. kung ano man iyon, may kakaibang hangin ang umihip at naisip kong kausapin yung lalaking nasa likod ko, na hindi ko naman napansin na naroon pala.
"Hi. my name's lizette. ano yung course mo?" naibulalas ko bigla.
"Polsci."
"Ah, pareho tayo! ano yung block mo?"
"Um...ano yung block?"
"Yung nakalagay sa form five natin."
"Saan yon?"
At itinuro ko nga. ayun. pagkalabas ko ng room sabi ko yata "see you around" sa kanya and promptly put him out of my mind.
so much for the beginning of an explosive, whirlwind romance. ^_^
hindi ko man lamang tinanong yung pangalan niya.
o kung sinabi niya man, hindi ko naalala.

so ayun! dun nagsimula ang lahat. hindi pa kami (matapos ang ilang beses kong tangkain na sagutin siya!) at matagal pa iyon, sa ugali ng lalaking ito. san ka ba makakapulot ng lalaking nanliligaw pero ayaw sagutin siya? hmpf. kung ano man iyon. hah, ngayong wala na siyang panakot sa akin, dudugo muna siya bago siya magkaroon ng kasintahan na nangangalang lizette lanuzo! nyahahahaharhar! (evil laugh)
pero kahit ano ang mangyari, mahal ko nga talaga yung gagong yon. siyempre, tulad ng sabi ng nanay ko, pag-aaral muna, at siyempre, sinusunod ko. mahaba pa ang panahon para umibig, matuto, at masaktan.
hindi kailangang magmadali.

so cc, the bottom line is...
i love you.
see you around.