The only throne I will sit for

Nope. I don't have an Obsessive-Compulsive Personality. To put it simply, I don't work around a chaotic environment. I think it was one of the highlights why my late mother persisted me to enroll in the University of the Cordilleras not because they are loyal to the the late Benjamin Salvosa. University of the Cordilleras is famously remarked for having clean and fresh smelling CR. 'It is so clean and fresh you can even eat inside' as the popular remark goes. Unlike my previous High School's CR (all three or four of them actually) that you will throw up first before approaching inside.  In my current university, the only pain in the butt before using the cubicles is the long line of girls in which most are there to change into their PE attires. 
I cannot be able to concentrate on any tasks in front of heterogeneous materials bunked and piled in a messy order. Even at school, I am solely disturbed by a wrapper of Voice crackers lying on the floor by apathetic students. Also, even when waiting for a jeepney, the trash around being dragged by the wind disturbs me. My hand is always itchy for it, so It is mandatory for me, before I leave home, to bring a pair of latex gloves. 
My compulsiveness for cleanliness was a trait that I obviously inherited from my late father. He was a an investigator for the Philippine Constabulary (Now PNP) and was always ticked off by a single dirt. No dust will ever try to coexist with him and his leather jacket. Like him, working around a chaotic room won't do him anything productive. When he retired from the Philippine Constabulary, or in the national defense force for that matter, he did not entirely drop being a cop. At times, people from the force would visit him for consultation also he is employed to be a parole officer. This, for free. But my father, he is not the typical productive man who will kick his day with a cup of joe. At 6 am, he will grab the broom, mop and duster and exile the dusts away. At 8, the house and even the street where our house is resided is spic and span. After that, he retreats to our porch where his working area is adjusted. He still use the noisy typewriter which he had been using for three decades. Though, the retired Chief Investigator would always prefer a long-hand.

My late father is a cleaning freak in which he cleans most than my late mother. Also, since my mother was a consummated entrepreneur and the majesty of the kitchen. At weekends or at any given day that school is not concerned, he will employ us to scrub the CR and the Bathroom. Ugh. The toilet brush had been my bestfriend every summer. Surprisingly, I did not have a growing aversion in cleaning the CR. Even without being dictated, scrubbing the CR and Bathroom was impulsively my duty. 

I  expanded my circle of friends by discovering domestic chemical compounds such as Chlorox or Muriatic Acid. Gloves and Face Masks, too. Our house (the top unit of our building) is white-tiled, and the site of muddy footprint on the CR tiles (mostly by my siblings) infuriates me. My parents, whether it is a family travel or work travel, they would often bring us along. We don't go to hotels since at any place we travel to, there would always be a residence that my parents know. Mostly, clients or relatives of my parents. It frustrates me of not seeing a clean CR. 

The worse, is the medieval square toilet. Worst, is the cat-in-the-hole dumping area. I would rather hurt my bladder or extend the patience of my rectum. The most evil of all is that my parents and siblings expects me not to be fussbudgety. Enduring the uncivilized architecture of dumping throne is the only option I can hold to. 

When having to sleepover to my older siblings' home, I am gratified by the sight of their pristine clean CR. But when coming over to my friends' or classmates, Oh mon dieu. I may sound as if I am  a maarteng burgis, but in no way I am a burgis. I just feel that excreting in a toilet is as emancipating as eating a comfort food. Kaya nga comfort room, 'di ba?
All of these was ruined when I attended a seminar with my mother about Sanitary somewhere in the province in Benguet. I was a high school student. One of the topics covered was having a decent CR. Most of the residences have a communal toilet, a medieval pot or opt to cat-in-the-hole. 
When we went home and was about to dump, I feel emancipated sitting on my throne that I had been spoiling every weekend.
Fastforward, I still clean the toilet every sunday morning. When I am in another residence, I am armed with Chlorox. Trying not to drink or eat too much. Lucky, if I find myself in the mall.
In college, I had the delight of not waiting until I get home to dump. The school's CR makes a refreshing option. Hey, school is a second home, amiryt? 

In memory of Tywin Lannister, the patron saint of dumping at midnight in King's Landing

Science and Religion are longtime soulmates

The Watchtower, June 1,2015 issue

The Watchtower published by Jehovah Witness Organization is an interesting reading material. Only that I no longer practice Christianity or Catholicism. I was heavily catholic. I was enrolled in St. Louis School Center during elementary days and entered a Catholic High School in Isabela but was cut short because of an accident. I used to volunteer to help serve in First Friday Mass every month throughout the school year. I tried to be an alcolyte for once and the uniform was terrible. I have memorized all the popular prayers that has been officially approved and used by our school. During October, Rosary Month, I was a few who endured an hour bowing our heads and holding to the rosary , flipping each bead between my fingers every after Ave Maria ten times. Yep, and I had never imagined myself 8 years forward to have forgotten all the prayers and even Honor Thy Father has slipped out from my semantic memory. It took  me to be transferred to a Government School, a melting pot of different people, to make me an atheist. 

I was in my third year when I met Rona Tan, a heavily JW worshiper. I frequently come to her home and see stacks of The Watchtower on her bedside. I loved reading! I read any material that has the language I can understand, even a phone manual would not be an exception. 

Holding with no profanity, sarcasm or whatsoever, the religious journal is a good reading material. You see, it does not only publish an advocacy for religious but it reasons out peppered with logic as well. With that of the latter, the magazine also tackles things from a field that religion grew adverse to; Science. It has also covered one of the most controversial topics which was marriage and contraception. But, it was not written in any way opinionated but it was far more objective and informational. Still, it asserts the importance of faith as well.


With that alone, I wonder how big is the gap between science and religion.

In the Film Adaptation of Dan Brown's novel,  Angels and Demons, a former priest attempted a great leap to correlate science with religion. It was not anything subversive against a belief, but it shows that the millenia-old church is ready for a vast dynamics in their belief. As Rev. Patrick McKenna has said, "If science is allowed to claim the moment of creation, what is there left to God?" Turns out, he was a big bastard who cannot stand the bridging between science and religion.

Should the church stay out from the premises of science? That is not possible since the pontiff ,Pope Francis, is a scientist himself. Shame on you, Rick Santorum. Pope Francis studied chemistry and was a chemist prior to priesthood. This gives him the right to warn and talk about the climate change. Wait, I'll edit that. Everyone reserves the right to be concerned about climate change whether you're a scientist or a farmer.

Some readers might find themselves furrowing their eyebrows thinking, "Why are you talking about religion if you're an atheist?" That is the good thing about being one, because you tend to rationalize everything without feeling blasphemous about it. The thing is that, respect should be applicable to everything. Not because I am an atheist is that I have the credit to become an ass and setting negative views about a church I formerly belonged to.

Read more, kids.

The operation between my outfit and music playlist is division

When I was in my sophomore year of college, a girl from my AB Communications class actually thought that my goth punk appearance is parallel to my personal choices. I nearly broke my jaw laughing. During that time, I was given a leeway by my mother to buy clothing pieces on my choice. Yes, even after high school my mother restricted me from having the freedom to choose my own clothing articles to fit to my own character. At that time, I armed myself with an ample number of denim, leather jackets, jeans, booties and black t-shirts. Wearing black because I'm a goth? Nah, I don't think so. I didn't have the taste to line my eyes with black. Now, this cute KISS fangirl took me by mistake, probably looking for someone who she can share the same interests with. Also, considering that I am a psychology major, the field that I randomly chose to endeavor could have, for her, as something inherently evil. I deduced that she watched too much Alfred Hitchcock's movies or may have patronized Gothika 2003 in which she actually did. With that, she continuously discussed her favorite rockbands from metal to death metal and had even categorized each band especially when I asked where does my favorites belong; "Skillet? Frustrated Metal 'yun. Actually ang tawag sa genre nila Christian Rock." she verified. Not just the taste for music but the ideology as well of being violent and for the love of dadaism. I do not question the underlying darkness in everyone's choices as these 'darkness' is suppressed to the subconsciousness, the taste for music, arts and fashion sense is the only way the aggressiveness can ooze through. That is why a drawing of a penis on a wall offends you but not the ashtray attached with a wood-sculptured erected penis. This girl has an affinity for anything disclosed as disturbing and nearly evil. Stories of Nazism excites and admittedly, gore is the center of her fantasies.

Is she evil? No, but she fancies it. I don't think she's the kind of girl who could kill a rat.
A question leaves me that if  appearances should be perfectly linked to choices. Consider if I look like a pin-up sorority girl who would be stereotyped to have a pop music on my music player, but in actuality, I listen to Def Leppard. Wouldn't that be more disturbing? It isn't. I have met random people in my life who mismatches of choices of clothing to choices of interests. I have a sister who is a practicing lawyer dressed pristine and talked smartly in a way that she garnered the respect and admiration of many. People who didn't know her very deeply thinks that she listens to Celine Dion but I am very sorry for Celine Dion, she has no space to her 'Driving Playlist'. It was Nirvana, Greyhoundz and David Bowie that keeps her head bopping. Personally, I'm not a rocker myself. I can't play band instruments. I dress like I'm in the band but I play the piano. 
The equation of being a Psychology major plus the signature rebel appearance must have gotten me to the wrong light. I have to sport being a goth punk because bright spectrum of colors hurts my overly sensitive eyes. 
Before the end of the first trimester, I wore pink and purple for the remainder of the meetings. I left my phone to her and she ran to my playlist and was disappointed to see handful of OPM and a whole album of Marina and the Diamonds and Beyonce.
We just met again over a game match at QBox yesterday. Also, she have every album of Beyonce on her iPod.

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Hunting for the Independent

It was 7 years ago when I first watched a Cinemalaya produced film or so I credit to have first watched and admired an Independent film. The film (which title I forgot) showcased siblings composed of two adult men and one young boy and girl as they thrive in their everyday litany whether in school, coping with to live without electricity and eating sayote everyday (Sayote manen?). Hence, the film moved me because the film is situated in Benguet, my home province. I was a first year high school during that time and was very moved with the artistic fundament of an independent film. It is not as wacky and quirky compared to a Vic Sotto film, sure, but don’t you think you need to take a break from it? Think of it as your vegetables. It’s healthy, natural and it is a food for the brain. Internet was not yet an adherent necessity before, and so the butt pain of looking to every video rental store or pirated DVD’s still persisted. Have I been successful in gratifying myself with my new found favorite genre? Err… yes. If you ask me if I went retro to watch films of Mike de Leon, Lino Brocka and Brillante Mendoza, yes. That entailed me to keep tracks of their airing schedules on Cinema One. On the other side, No. I hear about Lav Diaz and the success of his work in Cannes festival but I don’t see any medium available for me to watch his work.

A little later, a high school friend lent me a VHS copy of Maynila: Sa kuko ng dilim. Yes, our post-loved Betamax was still working. After watching the thought-provoking film, I researched for the movie to help me delineate through internet (Yahoo) and two results I found interesting. The movie was regarded by Martin Scorsese as one of the great films of Lino Brocka. Sadly, the film was a flop since its first release in 1975.

My pursuit for the movies that I want was a principle of demand vs. supply. The desire to watch independent films is very strong but to watch one at will is a thin chance. I was lucky that my Filipino or history teachers were fortunate to pilfer a Patikul by Joel Lamangan or Melancholia by Lav Diaz and a numbered few as a medium to substantiate our lectures.

Prior entering college, my father brought me to one of the oldest and a centennial hotel in Baguio; The Casa Vallejo. Casa Vallejo houses the Pinoy Hipster Zest of a bookshop, hotel units, café but most of all a movie house. The Cinematheque Baguio was there all along while I was on quest for Indies. “Meron palang ganito?” I said in my astonishment. Since then I enjoyed an occasional free access or with fee access to previous and upcoming indie movies but not exactly at will since schedules of airing would sometimes intervene with my class schedules.

Independent films may be a low budget cost production but the quality of its cinematography anchored with the right director is at its finest. The entities and the elements copulated in the film are explicit. It is dangerously depicted (due to my lack of words to supplement, I don't know what I am saying anymore). Lastly, the content along with the underlying societal truth will rattle you from your comfort zone. Plus, subtitles! Thus, the next time you watch an urbanized production or any material that emphasize glam, the thought will persist you again.

Then again, these independent productions are largely ignored. Try to ask yourself why? While you recline on your sofa in front of the TV, what movie during commercials do they air? Try to visit the cinema houses; are indies and mainstream productions posted on the same wall? Do your friends talk about the new Cannes approved indie?

screen grabbed form the YouTube based Channel Word of the Lourd: Make your own Indie movie

This may be an information-disseminating era but we don’t know enough of what we should know. It seems that independent productions are being banned from the stream of our consciousness though not purposely, just seems to be. Mind you. Why not? The pop is a multi-million cost and would at every chance to circulate their new production to their distributors. It is still business that will matter after all. I cannot blame them but I wish a few would reconsider to help these productions stretch out and reach to the many.  How the hell will the general public appreciate a small budget but ultimately astounding productions? After all, at this age I belong, a lot of the youths are craving for it. 

Anyways, thank you for having the That Thing Called Tadhana be released along with the mainstream.

Sometimes I wish not. Cinematheque Baguio is packed every weekends or holiday. I missed the solemnity of sitting alone having the theater and big screen all by yourself. 

Now, I can no longer stretch out my limbs across my seat. I take back all I said.

Rainy days are not always blue

Now that the mid-half year started since July, I know one thing that most of you would be hating. Yep, that's right; Rainy Days. But, Come on, Don't make the infestation of storms wash your good vibes away. It doesn't always have to be sad when the clouds starts to water (or sweat, pee, cry or spit). Whether you are holed up at home or attending your class, there will always be ways to turn the gloomy background to a bright day light mood.

1. You have an excuse not to shower.

 You'll get wet anyway, so why bother wasting a gallon of water and an mL of shampoo for the day. You can help save water and money. Enjoy the free water that will splash on your face. It is too cold to bother if they can smell a mile away, hence, you are not the only one who didn't shower today.

2. Those 'ol dusty sweaters can finally see the light, or the dimlight.

When was the last time you wore that Mickey Mouse crocheted sweater? If it still fits, then wear it! Nothing says comfortable but wearing those mementos from Christmas.

3. Coffee+Books

Not because this is an internet age you should forget feeding your mind with printed valuables. Nothing will ever warm your spirit but sitting beside the window and flipping through that half-read novel and sipping that bitter coffee. when it is raining it actually lets your brain rationalize deeply into existential matters. That is why suicide is sometimes blamed on gloomy weather. Not that I am scaring you, it is good to direct this to other things to power your brain.

4. Waking up late

Don't you just hate waking up late groggy because the sunlight hit directly to you? When it is raining, it is blissful to wake up late in the morning and just cuddle with the bed even if it is past 10. Not advisable if you have a class or work at 7. Rainy season is not a valid excuse, man.

5. The streets are all yours!

Ah, just walking through an almost empty street is gratifying. You are able to walk in the middle of the side walk and not minding about bumping people or people bumping you. Depending on how serious the weather is, try to get up and give yourself a 30-minute walk and daze how beautiful is the day still despite the rain. Also, be safe at night.

6. It always smells clean and fresh.

Ugh, you should be joyous when it is raining. You know why? It is the nature's way of dissolving air pollution and providing water for the thirsty plants. Whenever it rains, the only scent you smell is grass and fog.

One way to absorb Bad Vibes when it is raining

FORGETTING YOUR UMBRELLA

I mean, how could you? Umbrella is a basic necessity for survival if you want to go home ahead. I just hope that someone could share their shade of dryness to you.