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I’m back…

…to say goodbye. To those who have followed/been reading my blog, I really appreciate it. Thank you.


Multiple entendre

Allow me to digress from the usual marrow of my ramblings. Today, my pursuit of carnal pleasure has subdued my completely impeccant mind. Which induced me to notice the subliminal excursus on certain lyrics, because sometimes, even the most innocent children songs may have sexual entailments. Take for example, Celeste Legaspi’s Mamang Sorbetero. Let us dissect and analyze each line to further understand the real message behind this piece.

Note: We’ll assume that the song is being sung by a lady.

Mamang Sorbetero, anong ngalan mo
The first line already suggests that the lady is interested in building a good relationship with Mamang Sorbetero. The idea of patronage is beside the point.

Tinda mong ice cream, gustung-gusto ko
From this line, we can infer that the lady is sucking up to gain Mamang Sorbetero’s attention.

Init ng buhay, pinapawi mo
Here, we can see the aggression on the part of the lady. She uses ice cream as a metaphor for her carnal yearning. We can also infer from this line that something has already happened between them.

Sama ng loob, nalilimutan ko
Mamang Sorbetero must be damn good!

Mamang sorbetero, tayo’y sumayaw
Wow, this lady must be really kinky.

Kalembang mong hawak, muling ikaway
There, she said it!

Batang munti, sa iyo’y naghihintay
WTF%@$*#&!!!! The lady isn’t a lady after all! She’s a young girl! Mamang Sorbetero is a pedophile!

Bigyang ligaya ngayong tag-araw
Someone call Bantay Bata 163. Now!

La la la la la la…
La la la la la la…

Then they both went insane.

Poster’s Note: Nothing in this entry must be taken seriously. It is a product of the dweeb’s sheer boredom.


Obviously, there is no need to be verbose or gabby with regard to how I feel about you. Words simply cannot replace the sharp feelings of pleasure, excitement and satisfaction I get every time I greet you ‘Good morning’ the moment I wake up and ‘Good night’ before I log Z’s.

For the most part, a lot of people have seen some seemingly drastic changes in me. My mindset, my attitude, my outlook. I then reference my friend’s observation: ‘Whatever happened to Ken? The Ken who once asserted that he is not at all romantic?’

Two years ago, I was in the same predicament. ‘Predicament?’, you ask, when in fact I should be feeling exultantly proud and joyful. Apparently, everything is not exactly in the right place. It’s difficult because this time, the feelings I have are sharper and more intense. The mere presence of this person is enough to turn a frown into a smile. Every time I gaze at this person, my heart slowly melts. And ironically, my whole body freezes. Suddenly, all my defenses dissipate.

I managed to hold on to my last straw of rationality. I grasped my turf to the end, but that was after I grappled with my emotions.

I can only but guess what happened to the old skeptical Ken. Perhaps he sneaked back into the depths of his subconscious. Or probably he went to some remote universe because his emotions for this particular person overpowers him. After all, everyone is entitled to take a respite, yes?

For now, I guess I’ll just torture myself by watching Before Sunrise and Before Sunset. Ah, romantic flicks.

Point Z

I’ve said it a million times: You will never get it.

I live in a quadrant in which the characters are intrinsically unpredictable, while on the other hand, you dwell in a rather virtual world wherein the movements of your characters are dependent on the clicks of your mouse and the electrical signals sent by your keyboard.

I weave, balance and dodge in uncertainty and volatility of life. At one point, people in my world smile and frolic, and then after a few seconds, they glower. Fickle, indeed. But despite that, I like it here. Why? One reason being that the people here have found a bazillion other ways to enjoy and end their elusive lives. Unlike in your world, no matter how creative and inventive it is, the plot line is stark absolute and trammelled. It only narrows down to only two possibilities: triumph or defeat.

Short requiem

I can’t bring myself to even finish putting my thoughts into this paper, or at the very least my thoughts into words. I feel like I am about to crash into a bastioned wall, which wouldn’t burst despite the rather powerful smash. After crashing, I’d enter entropy. I am dying. A few more days, I’d either scotch my wrists, get into an overdose or jump off a building, and no one will even notice I am gone. No one will care.

As I deal with my own demise, I see a face. Only your face. By this time, you ought to be fading away from my thoughts. But no, I still see your face with my bare eyes. Something in me wants to hold on to you. Or rather, my entire self wants to. But you will never get it anyway. I love you. Cue requiem.

Too much Mathematics, eh?

Consummate geeks out there! How do you read the logo of Armani Exchange?

It’s A such that X. Go figure.

Armani Exchange