It's Sunday.

As much as I would like to write about my last Sunday, it was Easter. I attended the mass at a church in Yokohoma area where I used to live. I refuse not to talk about what have publicly became known to my old acquiantances concerning myself, that was undeniably unknown to me. Well, they can poke out their eyes and critically examined me, if they had to. I won't have qualms about it.

I have already lacked my sense of hearing of their often sensational talks about me. Heedless of whatsoever tittle-tattles, they can all blab and judge me for no reasons. But I won't debase myself by offering them what the truth is. Because if there was one error I wouldn't have to justify, is, I remain pure. This won't cause them anything. Only if they'd like to impregnate me (as always spread around) to whoever ears they'll whisper to.

Argh, I said I won't be talking. The deuce, I rant!

I need to breathe.

Everything

Surechigau toki no naka de. Anata to meguri aeta. Fushigi ne negatta kiseki ga. Konna ni mo soba ni aru nan te. Aitai omoi no mama. Aenai jikan dake ga. Sugiteku tobira suri nukete. Mata omoi dashite ano hito to waraiau, anata wo.

Itoshiki hito yo kanashimasenai de. Naki tsukarete, nemuru yoru mo aru kara. Kako wo minai de, mistumete watashi dake.

You're everything. Anata ga omou yori tsuyoku. Yasashii uso nara iranai. Hoshii no wa anata.

Dore kurai no jikan wo? Eien to yoberu darou. Hateshinaku tooi mirai nara... Anata to ikitai... Anata to nozoite mitai sono hi wo.

Itoshiki hito yo dakeshimeteite. Itsumo no you ni. Yasashii toki no naka de. Kono te nigitte, mitsumete ima dake wo.

You're everything. Anata to hanareteru basho demo. Aeba kitto yurushite shimau. Donna yoru demo. You're everything. Anata no yume miru hodo tsuyoku. Aiseru chikara wo yuuki ni. Ima kaete ikou. You're everything. Anata to hanareteru basho demo. Aeba itsumo kiesatte yuku, mune no itami mo. You're everything. My everything.

Odd Me Out

I've Been Tagged! The rules are - once you have been tagged, you have to write a blog with ten weird random things, facts, or habits about yourself. At the end you choose ten people to be tagged, list their names, and why you chose them. No tag backs!!!

10 Strange Things About Me (at least for me)

1. I bathe in milk, be it fresh or evaporated, though not everyday anymore. Pure honey is a regular. But I go organic whenever I could; whatever fruits or veggies are available at home. Avocado and papaya are my favorites.
2. I sleep with my face masked on milk or pure honey.
3. It will take me an hour to finish bathing. I don't know why. I feel unclean if I spent it quickly.
4. I do consume any milk powder, chocolate powder or a mix of these two, as voraciously I devour a hearty meal.
5. I wear socks to sleep, even in a dry climate.
6. And because I'm very foot-fetish, I end up putting more milk cream on my feet than on my face several times in a given day.
7. I have to confess how vex I would be in a disarray of order. Dirt clothes shouldn't clutter in the bin, in fact I neatly pile them like newly washed clothes.
8. I read in a dim room. The bright luster might cause a visual defect on peripheral matters other than the book. Unless you want me to multi-task which excites me.
9. Oh, I need to have at least a bottle of water near my bed. I fuel up before I go to pee, then I guzzle more liquid when I'm back from the loo. I feel there's a high-need to fill in what was quickly depleted.
10. Because you have read what a nutcase I am, I have fits of posting or deleting this article. You see, I am in my dailies with this disease of doubt.

Anyhow, cheers to Nicole. Thank you for the Tag.

I tag YOU!

Updates

To Gracey

I know this is a lame excuse, but really I am very sorry I haven't replied yet to your question the last time. How was White Day? I went to work after I called for pizza delivery. And he wasn't the one who came, nor who got my call. Though I received sweets, mostly white chocolates, from my workmates. That didn't cheer me up. I kid, I kid, I kid. Seriously, I wasn't enthusiastic not only that night. I have been told I am not myself lately. They're quite true because I don't nag anyone anymore. Nor do I give them that piercing look if they couldn't get their tasks done. I think I mellowed. I still can't help to be OC though, when things aren't organized in my perspective. But I am lighthearted knowing that guys at work can talk straight to me now without their heads curved downward, or I don't know why their hands shiver aimlessly have relaxed recently. Although they still turn red when I approach them. What made this change of heart, they've asked. Well, I realised that night how insensitive I was to them and yet they gestured a warm heart to me. I have always been strict. I rarely open my mouth. When I do, they know they're in trouble. I seem exhausted, they've also noted. I am. I feel I am already worn out and have twice matured. Because I was too carried out not to trifle on time, I was partially visible to their lives that I got totally aware of that night. My crossed features and raised brows were their usual greetings. It was an effort for me to move my facial muscles to give them a smile. I may not be miss-smiley to them yet, but I do laugh with them not long ago despite the fact that I feel wretched deep inside.

To Ryle

Hey, my days have gone bad. And I wasn't a good friend these days, being uncommunicative and aloof to any contact of attentions. Call it whatsoever you like. I just want you to know that you didn't end up swallowing your own foot. I am all ears at all. Speak soon.

The Interview

I braved the strong winds yesterday. In fact, I was more than tough to cycle my way to the said institution. I really didn't mind when I was told that the place is located far remotely and a car should get me there . What I had in hand was a single paper indicating how many stoplights before I should yaw to a roadway that would direct me to the marked address. I thought three road signals weren't that far. So I canceled the idea of going there by a cab from the train station approximately a distance from my apartment. I asked Kuya if I could borrow the keys and mounted on two-wire-spoked wheels.

At first I didn't notice I was pedaling alongside heavy vehicles and trailers transporting bulk goods to and fro the Chubu and Kanto regions of Japan. I was in the middle of an expressway (one of the busiest by the way high way). Wohoo, I am a certified cyclist, I gasped. I sped up my pedals more but I felt lost. How many stoplights did I encounter so far, one, two? It couldn't be just one yet. And alright, I couldn't give up to have gone this mile considerably.

I arrived after 15 minutes of in between stops and pushing. Well, not really. The winds convened their forces on me. I was just free-flowing cycling my butt and felt too easy for my legs. No sweat at all. I was revived with a new vigor and refreshed spirits matter of factly. I felt moonbeams in my eyes and curved lips upward on my face.

Came too early. Almost a quarter, I toddled to the entrance of the hall just as the office head walked in. I muttered my greetings. He lightened me up a bit with his joke. I couldn't hide my high-strung nerves, and my neurons were all wound up of the right terms to mouth. I was fretful of my retard brain at the moment. But he was impressed because I could talk? I knew I fairly managed the whole conversation. I think he was just compelled to say that, since I spoke to him in Nihonggo the most honorific way I could. It's not a problem for me to engage in a confab, he clearly commented. But he wanted to see me write texts in kanji, of which I am a no-good. I can't even read all, in truth, or can't read at all. So I tried to fill in the form with my bio in a scrawling Chinese characters. There went my poor strokes to his hand, he smiled and was a little surprised. I could write. Not really. I am only good at typing kanji in sending or replying MMS using my mobile phone. And I am very dependent to this gadget especially if I had to look over for the right text to use.

The afternoon concluded with a pat on my shoulder that caused me to blench for a second, that he quickly explained I am telling you as a father for I don't have a daughter. Why am I such a blusher? I thanked him and be permitted to leave the room.

Stormy heavens, you've blessed me.

Downpour

I am hiding under my tiered blankets whilst I tinker my thoughts here. There's a gusty breeze outside that makes me crouched and shrunk back in my pillow. You could hear the shrills of an angered heavens. I fear.

And I was coaching him earlier that there's nothing to be afraid of. It's a natural phenomenon, an abrupt rush of strong winds. That it's ok to go to sleep (because he's awake for more than 24 hours already). He charmed me, so off I went. Yet now, I am just like him.

Last Monday Repulsion

As they were gushing ohs and ahs ogling photo frames on my aunt's oakwood shelves, I knew where I should be heading to. I didn't finish my food but moved in a quiet to my aunt's room. Oh freak! Yes? Marichan, why didn't you tell us you modeled? I didn't... I was already feverish and humming my humiliation. Oide! They asked me to come to their cluster. I sat still, and remained focus to the screen. In a split second, I froze, the shoji slid open. I was mortified. I avouched my rights and retorted... Ok, I tried and I failed. I thought case was closed. They were browsing more pictures in front of me like wanting to tease me. I couldn't cache my skin anymore. I was just posing for a friend, like scaling walls or claying satins and silks on crossbars and scaffolds. It wasn't a good cover up yet, especially with that prying Chinese. You don't have anything to do with our kind of job. I know, I was a failure. Can't you read it? It's all over my face, I don't need to say it. I flushed my chagrin and yielded to this distress until now.

Tomorrow there'll be no more questions I pray.

Oh, Lord of My Heart

An angel crept in through the night;

shalt haunt me in my sleep.

He kissed my passion;

I dreamt of love.

Ravished would be

my heart's lost;

'tis omen escaped

before I was to rouse.

Ye wings glowing blush

to this sweet rose;

Awaits thy pristine dominion.

Feel me whilst thou promise

I won't be harmed.

Take me into thine arms

as thy skin bursts in flame.

Gently carry me to thy world;

only this moment I wilt be thine.

Across this placid blue,

'tis virgin wilts from hitherto

divine's sinister clouds.

Oh, thou lustrous veil

corrupt the innocence in my eyes.

My heart, my soul,

thou hadst mercifully taken;

it wraths like flames from hell.

Yet I long to linger

in this ghosts of love;

my mind pleasures in the shadows

of thine unseen world.

I wilt knock on heaven's gate,

if thou be near.

Thy gloom hast given me breath;

thy light eclipsed my own demise.

'Tis rose would be my heart

wanes the exodus of thine eternal fire.

Post-Its

To Magne

Dearest Sisterette, we are both in different timezones which is really a drag. Either I come early online or you were out first. But yes, I am doing just fine. I don't get to hang out with Gian everyday anymore. Lest I will have more lumps in my body and drowse in the comfort of two capsules a day. It breaks my heart though when I hear him crying out on me, "Tia tita, tia tita Yeng..." Just the look from his eyes I hide the pain I feel inside. I don't want to turn my back from him. But I also need to rest. God knows how sorry I am everytime I pull him away from my embrace, and he clings to my arms... I feel sad and restless why I have to do it. But you do know why. You see I want to look back and engulf him in my arms. I feel sorry for myself because I made him cry not even once wiping away his tears. I hope Gian, at his young age, understands me when I give him my reasons. I hope in the long run he won't keep his distance from me. I pray he will always stay as Tia's mickey baby. I pray that we will both stay the same. Shopping buddies, bike cyclists, beachcombers, foodtrip hyenas, couch potatoes and just being our two-team. I miss our gibberish talks most. Big sigh.

And oh, we're going to bring him for a Disney Tour next weekend. We changed our plan of staying at the resort overnight. Since cousin Cathy will come with us anyway, we will just stay at their place then. I guess we will have a little reunion. The rest of the folks are thinking of a beer drinking session on Sunday night. Then maybe, I will take them for a stroll at Yamashita Park on the following day or have fun at Yokohama Sea Paradise. Kuya is so into this, that you could hear his excitement.

I went to Nagoya last week. I didn't have much time to see our cousins there. Ok, I really didn't take a finger for a meet-up. I am not that snotty, ain't I? Just fiendish. Laughs. When Mama and Mishka will be here, and if Bulak will get her license already, I want a flight to Djibouti. Please I need to be in one with nature. Hmmm, smiles.

(1- Choco's sticking on Tia's tooth; 3- kissing muito obrigado to his Lola who speaks Portuguese to him; 4- with his not so Brazilian dad) The first two-photos were taken one lazy afternoon at nearby Numazu Port. And the last two pictures were at Fuji City, when we went for some Brazilian food-binge.



To Ashley

Shlot, Shez, whatever! I miss you more, pate-head! I think you have to do a lot of explaining here. I don't mean to dig the past but my head is in a swirl. The whole thing is too fast for me. What happened between you and N? Uh-oh, did I just say a bad word?

You were with who's-that-girl the last time I saw you at Ayala-Cebu. If it wouldn't be for Friendster (thank you, by the way!), I wouldn't know what's going on in your life. But there's one missing piece, and that's what I am asking you above. I hope you knew I have always been a big fan of you and N. However that was and had been, you are blessed with a lovely girl right now who seems kind and nice to me. I wish you both happiness.

*will update more later.

White Day

Hmmm, it's the 14th of March. And I haven't got anything from anyone. This is supposedly My Day. I should wait for Mr. Pizza Boy to come yet. Oh, I should call for a delivery...

Inventor In Me

My personalDNA Report

Tick-List Features

• The Monk; M. G. Lewis
• The Glass Castle: A Memoir; Jeanette Walls
• Saving My First Kiss; Lisa Velthouse

Oh, how I missed these pals. I so wish I could transport myself to that day I was filling up tight my suitcase and stuffing it out again, not quite certain what to cram into an insufficient space. I had to make sure D. H. Lawrence's Women in Love was in my grasp though. Well, Ma called out my name as I turned my back to hop a flight. "You almost forgot your book," her tears betrayed the sound of her reassuring voice. We hugged once more. And my cousin and I had to flee to our air terminal since our names were over the communications system already.

So what now? I was totally spaced out that moment in the past that I didn't really fuss on anything that would be then passe, a relatively lengthy piece of archives I wanted to leave behind intentionally. But this voracity right now would like to tweak a slight event of that day. I should have taken these three books with me.

Why M. G. Lewis? Maybe because I was intoxicated by him since I gave my stroke in dramatic monologue. Here is an excerpt, my first from him, as Lewis' The Maniac debutante when I was 13...

Stay, jailer, stay, and hear my woe! She is not mad who kneels to thee! For what I’m now too well I know. And what I was, and what should be. I’ll rave no more in proud despair; My language shall be mild, though sad; But yet I firmly, truly swear, I am not mad, I am not mad!

My tyrant husband forged the tale. Which chains me in this dismal cell; My fate unknown my friends bewail— Oh jailer, haste that fate to tell! Oh, haste my father’s heart to cheer! His heart at once ‘twill grieve and glad. To know, though kept a captive here. I am not mad, I am not mad!

He smiles in scorn, and turns the key; He quits the grate, I knelt in vain; His glimmering lamp still, still I see— ‘Tis gone! and all is gloom again. Cold, bitter cold! no warmth! no light! Life, all thy comforts once I had; Yet here I’m chained, this freezing night. Although not mad. No, no, not mad!

‘Tis sure some dream, some vision vain; What! I, the child of rank and wealth— Am I the wretch who clanks this chain, bereft of freedom, friends and health? Ah! while I dwell on blessings fled, which nevermore my heart must glad. How aches my heart, how burns my head; But ‘tis not mad; No, ‘tis not mad!

Hast thou, my child, forgot, ere this, a mother’s face, a mother’s tongue? She’ll ne’er forget your parting kiss; nor round her neck how fast you clung; nor how with her you sued to stay; nor how that suit your sire forbade; nor how— I’ll drive such thoughts away! They’ll make me mad, they’ll make me mad!

His rosy lips, how sweet they smiled! His mild blue eyes, how bright they shone! None ever bore a lovelier child. And art thou now forever gone? And must I never see thee more, my pretty, pretty, pretty lad? I will be free! Unbar the door! I am not mad! I am not mad!

Oh hark, what mean those yells and cries? His chain some furious madman breaks; He comes— I see his glaring eyes; Now, now, my dungeon grate he shakes. Help! Help! – he’s gone! —Oh fearful woe, such screams to hear, such sights to see! My brain, my brain— I know, I know I am not mad, but soon shall be.

Yes soon; for lo, yon! while I speak— Mark how yon demon’s eyeballs glare! He sees me; now, with dreadful shriek. He whirls a serpent high in air. Horror!— the reptile strikes his tooth. Deep in my heart, so crushed and sad; Aye, laugh, ye fiends; I feel the truth; Your task is done— I’m mad! I’m mad!

From then on, I have progressed in madness and started talking in gibberish. Laughs. And here's from Lisa, I am working to become the woman that I want to be-- the kind of woman whom the man of my dreams will fall madly in love with.

Have a pleasant evening!

If Only

I just need to share this. Yes, I dig romantic movies with extravagant mawkish lines and British humor as well. Enough said. Sniff.

Visible Spectrum

Some snippets as I flounced my way to Nikko district in fancy yellow and a vein of stubborness.

Pharaoh's goddess :p

The Great Temple of Abu Simbel

Rokuon-ji Golden Pavilion

Kiyomizu-dera Kannon

Hiroshima

Edo Mura

Taiko

Mizugei

My Umbrella Story

Tobu region

five-storied Pagoda

And more pictures right here...

www.flickr.com