THE AUSTRALIAN WAY

A Filipino lost his job at an Australian company. He was fired for his unhygienic practice of not cleaning his butt, after taking a poop, "The Australian Way" -- according to his immediate boss. His boss stopped him from bringing a bottle of water into the cubicle. The argument got heated and the Filipino said something along the lines of 'if you won't let me poop my way then you better fire me then.' So he got sacked.

The bottle of water you see is for cleaning his butt, because we Filipinos usually wash ourselves with soap and water, instead of wiping it with a piece of scented tissue. Which is the practice in most of the world; it being the norm and not the exception. That's why we don't know what a "skid mark" is. Unless we have hemorrhoids or an "accident." You know, getting a bonus while making-utot. (Fart darling.) It's another arrogant western belief that the western way is the "normal" way. Like sitting on the throne when most of the planet squat, which studies reveal as the "biologically correct" way.

Personally, I think he deserves to be fired, being a Filipino myself I am ashamed of his actions and his demeanor. Nakakahiya! He should have been deferential to his boss. After all, it is his company, and it is in his country. He was the guest, and should have acted like the good bisita.

If his boss doesn't like the way he cleaned his pwet then he could have let his boss show him how "The Australian Way" was done. He could have done his number two then afterwards screamed, paged, or called his boss to enlighten him how "The Australian Way" of cleaning poop off one's ass was done by letting his boss do it for him.

"Ser! Ser! Ay em dan meyking-tae! Flis tiths mi da Estrelyan Wey!"

("Sir! I'm done! Can you please come in here and show me how it is done 'The Australian Way' by wiping my ass for me.")

We really should tell our overseas workers to be more cooperative to their superiors, on the other hand. Maybe our kababayan could have let his boss take a dump and then calling all the other Filipinos who might also need to know how "The Australian Way" is done, hold a public showing of it. Maybe a manual can be made and have it included in the company orientation for future Filipino employees.

Better yet, maybe take a video and post it on YouTube so that everyone who would wish to learn can find out how "The Australian Way" is done and implement it in their own companies, or their government's hygiene program.

Maybe the root of all evil on the planet is because we do not clean the feces on our anus "The Australian Way." I have to ask my Australian friends about this, maybe we were just ignoring it all along, not knowing what a boon we had just smeared under our seats.

Maybe this "Australian Way" could be the solution to the problems in Afghanistan! Or Iraq! Or Somalia! Or in Haiti! Or in Sri Lanka! Maybe after solving the crisis in Mindanao in our own country "The Australian Way" could solve the problems in the only other country in the world with a longer war than ours--Sudan!

Our Filipino worker should be immediately deported and be re-educated in diplomacy. Filipino workers should learn to blend in the cultures that they work in. We do it so well everywhere else, this one Filipino worker must have been having a bad day and forgot his Filipino Manners. Que horror! Cinverguenza!

I feel I must apologize to our Filipino's immediate boss: I'm sorry our kabayan didn't let you teach him the error of his ways. Please don't give up on us we are not all like him. To prove it, we would be glad to have you visit our country and you can wipe all our asses until you are sure we have learned "The Australian Way" of doing it. Av a Geh deyh meyht.

The lawyers say that what happened was absurd. I agree. It is absurd. But then again, who ever said this world was a serious place?

MEGAMALL REDUX

I'm sitting here in Megamall food court. It's been a long time since I've been here and the first few things that come to mind are all the obvious changes, the way things have been redecorated. No longer the white Formica tables, now they're with a steel motiff with faux walling. The same people though: middle class types, students, office drones, and the erstwhile poor guy who made a little enough to take the kids to Megamall for dinner. The skating rink is still there with it's Zamboni ice shaver, the plastic walls yellowed with age, scarred by the multitude of strikes from newbie skaters. Jollibee is still there, in what seems to be the last hold over from the nineties in this place that was erected when I was just in college. It was very nice then, now it's just filled with people--a real "mega" mall.

I'm just sitting here after walking around for nearly three hours it seems, looking for Hahn. By sheer luck I found a place that sells Buck Knives, one of them looks really cool, and I might go back for it when I get my money. I promised myself I'll only keep 10% of what I get from NPC, give the rest to Alma with 10% kept for emergency purposes and about a thousand for the kids and the retrieval of the cellphone.

I've been feeling nostalgic about this place for the longer I'm here, all I can think of is how this place used to be the hang-out of the Miriam guys, and guess who texted me while I was going around...Arnold Caranay. I mean, how weird is that? The other guy who hung out with me a lot here in Megamall long ago. Kulang na lang makita ko si Daddy Noah, kumpleto na. If anything, Mega still had that sane appeal...beautiful things floating amidst the muck.

One of these days I have to definitely come back here and reminisce with the guys. More so now that the place has once again gone under renovation. One of these days, if I don't take my family here to tell them of my history when I hung out in this place when I was younger. It will be too different to show what was. Not that Megamall is going anywhere. - 0811.12

WMD

Unfortunately, I am a military-geek but only up to the fan service-ness and entertainment value of it. I don't support real warfare, or the killing of babies. I am not a warmonger, and I am certainly not a hippie either. I believe in defense, in the preservation of freedom, in the use of force to prevent the spread of evil. There are good guys, there are bad guys. If the bad guys use WMDs (Weapons of Mass Destruction) then the good guys should make sure that they don't get a second chance to do so, or better yet, never let them get a chance to use them in the first place.

EDC vs TO&E

Every Day Carry and Tactical Ordinance and Equipment. These are the terms that people in military culture use to call "Purse" and "Handbag" because it isn't macho enough to call it that. It's like how every single thing is given a callsign. It's normal to have a model number for something so that it is easy to keep track of it, but to actually give everything a callsign and then give it a short military-esque descriptive...sigh.

Examples: a semi-automatic high velocity fabric stitcher = sewing machine, an aerodynamic friction enabled contained liquid dispenser = ballpen

I know that some people do it for fun, but some people are really into it. "It's not a doll! It's an action figure." I mean respect and all, because I admit, I am a military geek too. But never forget those that you stand on that wall for, that is the thin line between patriotism and tyranny.

Anyway, I bring this up because I spent roughly half a day trying to streamline my TO&E this is the stuff I bring in my bag everyday when I am on assignment. I sorta realized, after so many people have told me, that I do bring a lot of stuff in my bag. I just tell them "Hey! When the (zombie, nuclear, alien, demonic, medical) apocalypse comes, you go find your own needle. Don't go borrowing mine because I won't lend it to you." Because believe it or not, that's what I have in my bag among others.

I base what I bring depending on scarcity of resources in case something happens. Haven't you watched Evil Dead? How about Lost on TV? How did they survive longer? Because one of them had knives. So simple a tool, and I have to agree with CutleryLover on this, aside from fire, a sharp implement is the reason why we have all of civilization. Yes! You are reading this blog because Barok had a spear and a torch.

Anyway. I broke down what I brought and didn't bring and found to my dismay that instead of reducing what I usually bring, I ended up adding to it after checking some new references on survival. The good news is that I got rid of a few redundancies in my pack, and finally managed to create a "legal friendly" EDC line-up and have upgraded and downgraded some other stuff to where they ought to be.

I'm still trying to find a way to legally bring a bazooka and a holy longsword +4. Not that I have either, but I like to plan ahead.

CONTROLLED DELIRIUM

I have been sick for the past two days with colds and a fever. I thought maybe in all the suffering this blight has brought upon me I was hoping that I might get a respite of some kind. The sickness I am sure was brought on by my immune system failing after I had to forego decent sleep for nearly a week trying to finish my deadlines for the next issue of the magazine I write for. Then it was as if the fates were listening to my pleas. I dreamt of you.

And it was the way I wanted the dream to be. I knew that I must have been dreaming. But I knew that it wasn't a fantasy either because I wasn't controlling what was happening. I knew it was a dream because after a week of not sleeping right, and two days of being unable to sleep right, this was the first night in a week that I was finally able to visit slumberland with the blessings of Orpheus.

You were beautiful. You were languishing, obviously waiting for my arrival into the realm. It was as if we agreed to meet tonight. You were wearing just what I expected you to be wearing. I sat beside you and so began a conversation that I have been wanting to have with you. Because after so long, we are alone again, and we can speak freely, because we knew where we both were. What I didn't expect though were your answers to my questions. How you seemed so mature, how you seemed to know what to do. Another sign for me that this was a dream. You were never so wise. You were never so sure of yourself or your plans for the future. But this time, it was as if I was speaking through you, and it was I who was unsure and impatient and impulsive. Demanding, upset, selfish, like the brat that I usually am.

In the end, you told me that it is time to part, and I was saddened. But you told me what I wanted to hear, and used that moment to enforce you argument that it is time to wake up and move on with our days. How I wish I was able to debate forever on that one single point while holding you. But I failed, because I could never say no to you...and that is why we can never have that conversation in the real world.

DATING EXCLUSIVELY II

But what to do if the one being courted is the one who chose to date exclusively. Because that is the only way for the one being courted to signify that s/he is willing to be just be with that one person, but because of some reason is not ready to get into a relationship yet.

Whatever that reason may be is moot and academic. But the issue is, what is the point of saying "we're dating exclusively, but hindi kami" when nobody can enter the relationship because it's already closed?

What? You're waiting for someone better to come along? And being courted is bait? Oh hell's wrath! Could that be it?

No? Then stop playing games. Dive into it before love decides to leave. And you will be left with nothing, but ash...you don't want to go there.

Oh? Afraid of being pressured into doing something you are not ready for if ever you say "Yes" to him/her?

A true lover does not force a partner. That my dear is a whole different game called: seduction. One that is far far more interesting than courtship. And one that can be made absent in the relationship if one partner chooses to. For there are two main reasons to get into a relationship: mating or companionship. If you get both, then you are rich beyond words.

DATING EXCLUSIVELY

Is that the way to go? Have I been out of the loop so long that I can't even imagine how dating exclusively is an excuse to say that two people are "kami na" that just because they do not see any other people is enough reason to become an item. To be in a relationship.

Maybe I would sound old if I said, "during my time" which would be referring to the time that I was still dating and courting so to speak. But that would be insane, because that was only less than five years ago.

Maybe because I am a chivalry mummy is why I am so affected when I heard that dating exclusively was reason enough. But what if there was no other choice for the one being courted? What if the only reason why that person is dating exclusively is because there is only one courter? What if the single courter is such a troll that if anyone who even dares to also court said courtee will be dealt with accordingly?

In the days of swords and shields, that would have been difficult. But these days of guns and goons, that would be a pretty easy thing to pull off.

Maybe that is why when others see someone who is "unreachable" or "seems taken" or "seems decided" or "dating exclusively daw" they decide to not meddle in the business of courting.

I mean there is sound reasoning in that maneouver anyway, as there are a lot of fish in the sea. And believe you me, there are much better fish out there than the one in your plate or in your aquarium. So why bother indeed? But what if you really like the target? If the fox is indeed worth the chase?

Then by all the gods of love and by all the gods of war forge on oh intrepid fool! Exclusivity of ownership belongs to only one entity--Death. And sometimes, even he can be cheated.

OIST TUMIGIL KA NGA SA KAHIBANGAN MO!

Okay, admittedly, you might have something in common with Barack Obama.

Maari na pareho kayong pinaglihi sa isa sa mga sumusunod: pwet ng kawali, pwet ng kawa, pwet ng kaldero, pwet ng takure, pwet ng wok, abo, duhat, saging na pula, munggo, tahure, tahong maarnibal, baboy damo, kalabaw, matampusa, uwak, uling, puto na sinawsaw sa dinuguan, dinuguan, puto kawali, puto bumbong, abnoy na balot, century egg, itim na whatever. Alin kaya? I will leave that to the people.

But you know, I cannot in good conscience leave all the choices to the people for one simple reason. Politicians by nature are trained to manipulate the perceptions of people so that they can be influenced to vote in a certain way. The level of manipulation is inversely proportional to the educational attainment of the masses. Thus it is common for politicians to keep the masses uneducated to a certain level. Unfortunately for you, I got to finish High School! So no sir, I am not by any means easy to fool.

Fooling people, that is what you do, day in and day out. Maybe many, maybe a few, but not all. Specifically not me. So I think I will not leave it to the people to decide if you are "like Obama." So, instead I will give them some questions, so they will think. For this is what questions do they make even the most uneducated people think. Think, and hopefully realize a truth. The simple truth is...you are not Obama-ish. No matter how big your delusions of grandeur are.

Are you like Obama: Have you written a book filled with positive patriotism and empowering hope for your countrymen? Are you like Obama: did you grow up amidst multiple cultures, leaving you with the experience of what it means to deal with people from all parts of the world? Are you even educated? Are you cultured? Have you seen the world? Or are you simply worldly?

Because in my humble opinion, maliban sa pareho kayong negro, asa ka pa na para kang si Obama. Hindi sa dahil super fan ako ni egoy, pero I think this is the very first lie in a long list of lies, and just another in the many more that will surely come from you. How many lies have you made in the span of your life?

This blog entry is my little effort to make sure the people are never hoodwinked into believing, even for a second, that you are like Obama, that you are capable of handling democracy, that you deserve to become a ruler in my country.

I may not know yet who I will vote for, but it is not going to be you. Asa.

LAST MESSAGE

lo0k., i dnt knw h0w 2 talk thngs over w/ u., thngs hav g0n so c0mplc8ed., .,u dnt evn knw if der wil stil b a chance 2 c u., or if il b able 2 spik wen we mit

*******

T_T

A CELLPHONE STOLEN

My wife lost my cellphone. It was a the secondary cellphone we use for the SUN Cellular Network. There are three commercially available networks in the Philippines. There is Globe, Smart and Sun. According to someone I spoke with Sun, they chose "Sun" because the Sun is larger than the Globe and because the Sun is brighter than Smart. Most everyone who has enough friends can create their own little Sun Cellular micro network. Me an my friends use it to communicate with one another over and above our regular cellphones. Of course, Sun is a tad difficult to use, but they are working on it, and you see how they are slowly getting there. Especially with the support of the cellphone using community, composed of about 50 million Filipinos, who appreciate having an alternative cellphone that has the only unlimited call service in the country. It is Sun that pushes the prices down when you think about it.

Anyway, my wife had her bag picked while she was paying for a procedure in a clinic just across the Philippine General Hospital. They got the cellphone even though my wife already had someone with her, and even though she is a battle-hardened journalist. If she was a regular person I would call her a victim, but really, she should know better, especially in areas like that.

Here is a lesson: In the Philippines, criminal activity increases as you reach two places: deserted areas and heavily populated areas. The pickpockets in the city are so good that they can actually remove your wallet, take your money, place your wallet back and put your driver's license on your lap, and then disappear before you notice anything. Also, dark, deserted areas are a favorite haunt of the stick-up men. What is great about our country though is that we do not have muggers. Muggers are criminals who attack you to immobilize you, then take your possessions. Here they ask nicely that you don't retaliate and calmly hand over your stuff. They know better than to actually physically harm another person. They know the repercussions of that in a country where there are still bloodfeuds, vendettas, beheadings and killers for hire.

Now, if ever you lose your cellphone, try calling it and asking for it back from the person who got it. But be wary, sometimes, criminals use that to lure you into an unsafe area to do something worse to you. Especially the women. Is the cellphone worth your life, or getting raped? If you will recover your cellphone by meeting up with the "nice person who found it" have backup and meet in a very public place, or better yet, have the cops go with you.

Also, don't bother with having the phone blocked so the thief can't use it, because even if you can somehow ask your provider to block the number, all the thief has to do is to buy a new SIM Card. Also, if you manage to get the National Telecommunications Commission to have the IMEI number of the phone blocked, all the theif has to do is bring it to any cellphone repair station in the country and have the IMEI unblocked for a small fee. In short, go ahead, if you want to trouble yourself and waste your time getting a police report, an affidavit of loss, and waiting for action that will, in the end, be futile.

OF KILLING THE SPANISH

Now before we delve into this blog too far, I guess it would be good to talk a little about the country where Metro Manila is a capital of. This isn't just for the foreigners. Many denizens of MM don't even know how many cities there are in it, much less what's going on in the over 7100 island archipelago that composes the Philippines. Historically, we've been around over 40,000 years. Before the Spanish arrived here, we have been trading with the Chinese, the Indians (the ones from India, not the ones from Wyoming), and the Malays(what is now Indonesia and surprise, MALAYsia). We had our own caste system care of the Muslims and we had our own tribal kingdoms before we were colonized and our original culture nearly erased by Christianity. Though your Catholic teacher would vehemently deny this, but yeah, they also deny the evils that happened with the Crusades and the Inquisition. But that's already history right? Deus Vult.

The Spanish were actually surprised that when they arrived, er, the second time that they arrived that is, that we had cannons and we had spearmen cavalry. You see the first time they came here, care of the great Magellan in 1521, who was the first westerner to cross the Pacific, they didn't last. Magellan wanted to make an example of Lapu Lapu, a local chieftain who didn't like the idea of bowing down to the Bible thumpers just 'coz they said so. He went forth to show them the power of his "boom stick" and got his ass handed to him on an arnis stick.

It wasn’t until after fifty years later, after four more failed expeditions, under the expedition of Miguel Lopez de Legazpi, that was Manila finally taken. After a six year campaign that involved the burning of Manila by its denizens to prevent its being sacked.

But for the next 300 years, we were a colony of Spain. We were able to win our independence in 1898, but were colonized by the Americans afterwards in 1901, and they were around well until 1991, when the last of the American Bases finally was shut down. That in itself was only partly political in success, because the final blow was Mount Pinatubo erupting, the largest eruption in recorded history, which everyone thought was a mountain for 600 years, and not a volcano. Then surprise...
The Japanese occupied us during the World War II for three years also, and since 1991, we've been pretty much on our own. Though, being very worldly global village kind of people, we have continuing friendships with a lot of countries. Plus our women are just freaking hot, and the guys ain't half bad, plus almost all of us know how to speak understandable english, and thus we have thousands of expats.

But as I said before, we've always been a center for commerce between the Northern Territories and the Southern Seas, so that ain't new either. I guess what I'm trying to say is that, the Philippines is as West as you can get when you go to the East.

THE NEW CASTE SYSTEM

Long ago we were divided into roughly five major castes, the Bayani (heroes), the Datu (Nobles), Maginoo (Leaders), Timawa a.k.a. Maharlika/Mahadlika (freemen), and the Alipin which has about three more subcastes. Since there are officially no more slaves here in the Philippines, I don’t need to delve into that. But in truth, there are. In this age of the internet and the cellphone, children are still being sold as slaves in certain areas of the Philippines.

Anyway, Bayani (heroes) are made. These days, what are regarded as Bayani’s are those who are made heroes by law as national heroes, and then there are our Overseas Contract Workers / Overseas Filipino Workers who are hailed as the Bagong Bayani or new heroes. Tapos, the soldiers of course who have been fighting our nearly 50 year old insurgency problem are all heroes also. So many heroes, diba?

Then andiyan iyung Datus. Yeah, they might not be called Datus anymore, but they sure act like them. These are the Oligarchs, the ones who own most of the land, have most of the Money, are the best educated, own buildings. They own the country. They become politicians, or own politicians, they are untouchable. They are the ones we all hope to be, or breed with at the least. I don't even need to name them. Stay a little bit in the Philippines and you already know who they are. A rose by any other name eh? Anybody who thinks the Philippines is a democracy is living in an illusion. We have been an oligarchy, we are still and oligarchy, and we will remain an oligarchy, until the last bit of land sinks into the sea.

The Maharlikas or Timawa, those would be the lot of us who are barely above the poverty line. Those who can afford cellphones and internet and regular meals. The rest, they're the alipin. In one way or another, we are all slaves. But at least we can live like we are not. The poor? They feel the chains everyday, every minute in their hollow stomachs. Why do they not revolt? Because in a country like the Philippines, when the poor revolt, they are killed. When the middle class revolt, the oligarchs give in. Because usually it is the Maginoo who lead the Timawa. And usually that's because another Datu wants it to be anyway. We are all but pawns in their game. But we take it in silence because we know the alternative. Just because the chain has been removed doesn't mean it can't be put back. So in which caste are you? Be honest now.

CHAPTER 1: MEGAMANILA

As with any Survival Guide, we deal first with the terrain we are trying to survive in. More often than not, we will deal with the most dangerous terrain in this fair country called the Philippines: Standing on the rim of any of the volcanoes for a day in our country that straddles the Pacific Ring of Fire, and floats on its own tectonic plate called rightly the Philippine Plate, is a much-much safer adventure than stranding still on any corner for an hour in the megacity commonly known as Metro Manila.

Metro Manila is a conglomeration of, I dunno, 14 cities? From the top of my head Metro Manila is includes the cities of Valenzuela, Navotas, Malabon, Caloocan, Novaliches, Quezon City, San Juan, Mandaluyong, Marikina, Pasig, Makati, Taguig, Pasay, and Manila itself.

Manila City is not to be confused with Metro Manila. The name Metro Manila is what is officially known as the National Capital Region. It refers to all the cities within the NCR, which includes Manila City. Manila was the Christened the capital city of the Philippines in June 24, 1571 by Spanish Conquistador Miguel Lopez de Legazpi (yes, this city is that old). But it has been the hub of commerce for the Philippines long before that. Eventually when the towns around Manila evolved into cities, they were incorporated into what is now known as Metro Manila.

The Philippines is divided geographically into three separate areas, Luzon in the North, Visayas in the middle and Mindanao in the South. This is divided politically into fifteen Regions each ruled by a Governor, except the NCR which has not had a Governor since 1986 after the first EDSA Revolution (the first one because we've had three you see). But the Metro Manila Development Authority (MMDA) and its Chairman stands in for the responsibilities and duties of the governorship. Taking out the trash and such, making sure we don't sink into the sea, assuring that there would be traffic to be dealt with.

We also have two autonomous Regions, the Cordillera Autonomous Region (CAR) and the Autonomous Region of Muslim Mindanao (ARMM). CAR is ruled over by a coalition of the northern indigenous ethnic tribes and the ARMM speaks for itself.

I think I got them all. There are about 14 million people right now in the Metro Manila. If we include the transients and the commuters from the surrounding cities, it could blow up to about 17 million people going about each day in an area of so many square kilometers. This is where the Maharlika Survival Guide will focus mostly on, with some out of city stories every now and then, because if you don’t leave Metro Manila every now and then, someone will shove you out to make space.

FOREWORD: MSG

Part of this blog will be entries to the Maharlika Survival Guide (MSG). As with anything you read on the internet, it's up to you to believe what you read here or not. This is a collection of knowledge from living in the Philippines for over 30 years. I've also been a journalist for almost half that time writing stories about various aspects of Philippine literature for about half of that time.

What is a Maharlika? It is the pre-spanish term for Freeman. One who has been elevated from being an Alipin(slave) and is now part of those who are vassals of the Datu (Nobles) caste. It’s like middle class now. More on that later.

In short MSG will be a collection of anecdotes, how-to's, where-to-finds, and other guides all of which have to do with living, oft times coping with the Philippines. The entries here will be written by me with contributions from my circle of journalist friends. We will have every type of story here eventually, but it would all be about "How to make life easier in the Philippines."

If you think you know everything about living in the Philippines, think again. Be warned, this guide will be gritty and brutal at times. I will post some pictures now and then. I am doing this not to make money, but because I think a lot of the denizens in here need help every now and then.

We will update as the stories and contributions come in. We will allow comments, which we will try to not moderate too much. After all, we also believe we don't know everything, and we seriously believe in the adage getting all the sides of a story. We are journalists after all. But remember when you comment that we follow one rule "Veritas maximus." It must be truth, if not a factual truth, then your true opinion. If there is any topic you wish us to discuss, please email us, or leave a comment.

For starters, here's is a first advice: You are not alone. No matter how bad you think it is for you here, no matter how alone you feel right now, no matter how bad it's about to get. You are not alone. Someone out there has it as bad as you, or, often, worse. So when you reach the point where you think you can't take another day in this place, that is the time that I actually can say earnestly to you: Welcome to the Philippines.

DOES GOD WANT US TO BE HAPPY?

There are so many things that have to be said and done between us, but I see that this will never happen. How? How can it happen? You don't want to see it. You don't care about it. All you see are your wants. You don't see my wants.

You say that this is not true. Words are but empty shallow things we write to make money out of. How can you actually rely on mere words to prove to me how you feel and how you act? I have to see for myself before I can believe. I have to see the actions before I actually accept what you say is truth.

I don't believe you. I can't believe you.

As far as I am concerned we are living a lie. This is all turning out to be a big lie between the two of us. It's just like what happened to me and my other friends who say I am important to them; that they think of my welfare. Lies! This is my reality. I have finally lost. I am on the verge. That is why I am writing everything I need to write down. I don't want to take all of these down with me to hell.

STORMS

Its storms like these which remind me of home the most. Living most of your life in a valley has its moments. Specifically the fact that you don't have to bear the brunt of any storm that passes. You watch it barely touch your town and then, its done. Maybe the river floods and maybe a few things get tossed here and there, but that's it. Life goes on.

I'm living in a swamp these days. And well, storms in a swamp are different. Water rises, the trees are nearly useless, and the rain sleets as the wind tosses it here to fore. It feels unsafe and unlike home. It feels wrong. It feels like I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be in a swamp. I should be in my green valley. Nestled in safety. But I'm here. I'm unsafe.

I watch the storm rage outside the window and it mirrors the insanity in my heart. I am tossed. Leaf-strewn and drenched among copious amounts of heavenly tears. But it is part of what is everything. Without storms, there can never be strength. We will never learn to batten ourselves to the downpour of life's challenges and the sorrows that also rain down from heaven. A little rain must really fall. But my storm has been all too long in its run and rampage. I tire of sitting in the boggy swamp. I miss the sweet, safe, rolling hills of my valley.

I miss home. This is not home. My heart lies not here. There are only storms here. There is only wrath and ruin.

SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

I told you I was the devil. But did you listen? No. Now you are confused and you don't know what you are feeling and what to do about your actions. You don't know whether to ask for forgiveness or to praise whatever gods you pray to for thanks. I know who I pray to. I know what I pray to. I thanked them for letting me have you. I thanked them so many times.

That's what happens when you think you are evil versus knowing you are evil. In the face of the real thing. You just crumple.

You just give in to it, you taste it, lick it, bathe in it, let it slide into you, let it writhe in you. But in the end. You cleanse yourself. Me? I let my sins dry on my flesh.

I do not ever want to find myself in regret. I hate myself enough to let me revel in my sins. How about you? Are you as fucked up as me?

Or are you Judas, pressed into sin by God to do his dirty work? How about Barrabas sinful until faced with true holiness? Or are you like me, a simple snake in the Garden of Gethsemane?
Telling crying avatars in the middle of the night : You don't have to do what He says you know. Heller? Free Will?

I choose to do good, so that when I do choose to do evil. It is clear in my head...as alligator tears.

THE LIGHT THAT FAILED

I sit in the dark more often than not, not because I like it, but because I have grown used to it.

I stare out the window but I see nothing, not because I cannot see, but because it is not what I want to look at.

I smell the rancid wet air of the city, the dust of my living, but I ignore it with a snort. It is not what I want to sniff.

I keep shuffling the songs on my player impatiently, I hear, but it is not what I want to listen to.

I eat meals and nibble on snacks. I enjoy the tastes, but my hunger remains.

I can feel the almost imperceptible roughness of the keys, the tactile feel of each as I stroke it, the way it resists the push, the way it springs back after delivering its electric message. But it is not what I want to finger.

I want to see you, I want to hear you. I want to smell you. I want to touch you. I want to taste you. All in the dark.

I'LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU

Such a difficult promise. That you will always be in my heart, that I will always remember you, that you will always be there in my head how I will mouth your name every now and then in remembrance. How deep pangs of guilt and loss will twitch in me with every memory. I hate it but love it everytime. It tears at me with every memory. I hate it but love it everytime. It tears at me, clawing and cloying. But it tells me I'm alive and that you, be you dead or alive, you are there in my heart and mind. That I really will never forget, that I will always love you. But how do I show you? Do I even tell you? Do I even show it? No, I guess you don't care about it. It was a promise given, but who cares about it? You don't. I guess nobody does. I mean, when will it be checked on? When will you redeem all those memories? All those times you made me flinch inside, will you ever come around and say "So? How many times did you think of me?" What do I get in return? Will there be reciprocity? Or am i just wasting my time? Am I just wasting your time? Or because I am such a romantic and sentimental fool at heart, will I be unable to go on if I don't pause everyday for you. Think of your name and remember you? It might be because we are never happy with the ones that we are with. Maybe I have to do this because it keeps me sane, that I am not trapped, that there are other fish in the sea. That there are always choices. That there is always tomorrow, that there can still be you and me. That though you are an old and ugly crone I will still love you. But maybe I don't love you, the one you are now. I love you, the one you were. I am in love with ghosts and with phantoms of yesterday. Because I am sure, you are now a bitter middle aged whore. And that is why I am a pessimist, because all my hope is lost everytime I dream about what we have never had. Tell me you think of me too. Unlikely.