Skip to main content

One man's toxic waste is another man's potpourri. - The Grinch

I am really, really, really Grinch-y right now.

The holidays may be about good cheer, but hell, there are no rainbows and sunshine and Santa Claus. Not today there isn't.

What's so razzle dazzle about Christmas anyway? The season, I mean. If not for the 13th month pay and the Christmas bonuses for some lucky bastards (not like me), I say do away with it completely.

Yes, I know Christ was born on Christmas day (or at least the date symbolizes the day), but the whole "He died for the sins of the world" seems to have been swallowed up by the whole "Santa gimme a present!" mentality. I mean, since I can remember, people've abbreviated Christmas as "X-mas." Giving and loving my ass. That Christ, the Son of God, the Savior of Mankind, has been now reduced to an "X", that just says it all.

The avarice never ends! "I want golf clubs. I want diamonds. I want a pony so I can ride it twice, get bored and sell it to make glue." Look, I don't wanna make waves, but this *whole* Christmas season is stupid, stupid, stupid! - The Grinch

People crawl out of whatever hole they've been living in for the past year to flock to the malls and all sorts of crimminals start to be extra hardworking - if it's even possible for them to be MORE on the prawl - "Kailangan may pang noche buena!" Never mind if they steal it (or kill) off some REAL hardworking person. "Basta, kailangan masarap ang kakainin ko sa pasko!"

I'm not being pessimistic here, this is just how things stand. (On a side note - I think I'm more of a realist rather than a pessimist.) Yes, people get to see loved ones they haven't seen for a while during Christmastime, but if they really wanted to make time, it needn't be at the end of the year.

-------------

Christmas party - an "ugh" rather than a "yay".

There is nothing about doing a 7-minute number from "High School Musical" that I find even remotely attractive. Watching a few clips was enough to tell me that it was just another teenybopperish piece of crap - with music.

High school? Musical? That's just wrong.

Now, why the hell would I want to do a dance number - Enrique Iglesia's 'Escape' of all things - inspired by it?

I'm gonna die. I'm gonna throw up, then I'm gonna die. - The Grinch

I don't care if you wanna par-tayh!, just gimme my 13th month pay and leave me in peace.

-------------

Tonight I Can Write
Pablo Neruda (translated by W.S. Merwin)


Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, 'The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

-------------

Because this is one of my favorite poems by one of my favorite poets of all time and because I'm an ugly, cheesy sap, and enough is enough.

-------------

Blast this Christmas music. It's joyful and triumphant. - The Grinch

Comments

Johanna said…
what's so wrong with high school musical? :( LOL. RENT! :D

you're not ugly, but i don't know about the cheesy sap. LOL :peace:
iamstorm said…
its high school, and its a musical. they just don't go together. and you know i just abhor teeneybopper-ish crap.

looks are relative. ^_^
Johanna said…
so you dislike teenagers in general then? LOL

relative it is. i still don't find you ugly though. :P

i want a 13th month pay! hahaha.

Popular posts from this blog

From Slumdog to Millionaire

Slumdog Millionaire has been getting a lot of hype lately, and I, for one, think it deserves it.

Set in the slums of Mumbai, Slumdog Millionaire is, simply, a rags-to-riches story of a boy who went from the shit-diving fanboy (watch the movie and you'll understand) to the 20 million-Rupee winner of the local version of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire - and gets the girl of his dreams in the process. And to make it truly Bollywood-grade (it's a British film, BTW), there's a dance scene at the end.

While some may say that the story is something we've all seen before countless times over and over again (yes, the premise is THAT overused), that's entirely beside the point. No idea is new, they say, the key lies in the way something is presented, which makes Slumdog Millionaire stand out from all the rest. The cinematography for one, is great, and for a movie that reminded me so much of the slums of our own Payatas, of the congestion of this sprawling metropolis we call Met…

One last thing before I hit the sack.

I realize I haven't been posting as much as I want to (ha, Captain Obvious), settling for the occasional photo.

Still, I just want to give out a big thank You to the Guy Upstairs, for blessings and what I pray to be good things to come.

===============

Serendra, on a hot, Saturday afternoon: