Sunday, September 23, 2007
Solo Flight. Solo Fight.
I hated Saturday nights but yesterday was an exception.I was able to quietly unwind even if I had to spend it drinking alone in a place where I know no one and no one knows me (except the bar tender who recognized my face but I bet he doesn’t even know my name). Yes, I was alone, I drank alone; (and I would welcome frowns and violent reactions for that).
It would have been better of course to talk with any of the few people I trust but since these few people also have lives to live and to-do’s besides listening to my rants on a weekend night, I flew solo. And thank God, I flew light. I was able to unload some thoughts baggage. It just took two bottles of booze and two chicken rice meals (two consecutive – McChicken first, then McNuggets) to make me feel that waiting until half past 12 is ok. Hahah, ok, such a bland word. But yes, my waiting was ok. I was numb, happily waiting for something that I know is not coming,
This isn’t so new. Because for the past months, this is what I have been doing - waiting without knowing what it is exactly I am waiting for.
If I just wait for things to happen, then it is not true that I am a fighter. I don’t fight, I only wait for myself to get tired of waiting. Last Tuesday must have been the finale. And just as expected – whatever I am feeling – whether I say it or not – it doesn’t make any difference.
Posted by tengcorrea at 9/23/2007 03:16:00 PM
A good conversation
Last Tuesday, I went to a place to get my weekly dose of peace of mind, but when I arrived there, I was surprised to see a lot of people, since it was production night. Goodbye to the imagined scenario of sitting in a corner, quietly sipping my beer while listening to wanted noise.But I decided to stay, and I am glad I made the right decision. Because it was a chance to talk - and really talk. Thankfully not to myself.
:) It was not baduy, It was not badly emo. I simply felt it was honest. And that's the “you” I have always wanted to know and understand from the very beginning.
'Next times' rarely happen. But I'll wait for the rare.
Posted by tengcorrea at 9/13/2007 11:40:00 PM
Ironic
I don't believe in falling in love.Ironically:
a. my make or break project is on "I've Fallen For You"
b. I'm currently LSS-in on "I've Fallen For You"
Boo. Maybe, I fell. Rar. 59
Posted by tengcorrea at 9/13/2007 09:59:00 PM
Because Reno got my cam's "working" batteries
..haha, I was only able to take these pictures, :) tapos puro sila pa. Aba, sinusuwerte ata ang Arkanum na yan ah, tsk tsk
Posted by tengcorrea at 9/13/2007 07:21:00 AM
Literally an invasion
Confessions of an Early Bird. I wanted to come in late (“paleklek kumbaga, hehe” as I didn’t want to give people the chance of giving their reaction (which is expectedly violent, haha) with my current weirdness. Unfortunately, my brother and I arriving in Purple Haze at around 8:30 made us one of the earliest birds. (I think I even got the sixth ticket, haha. )Arkanum was already there, getting their initial dose of booze. Ye, my brother and I sat with the band for a while – I discreetly smiling at my brother since I know how thrilled he was meeting the bandmates of his idol Kuya Enok. And when I went down to get my change, I was surprised to see that there already was a mob outside. And in a matter of minutes, the place is literally invaded.
Trigger Pulled and Back to the Past. I’ve been to some gigs and I’ve always enjoyed the experience of varying levels and kinds of energy, of pulse, of high. But what I feel makes this gig different is the nostalgia that each band brings. It is one thing to appreciate the music and another thing to connect with the people behind it; and for this experience of connection to connect you to something else.
Home – I was reminded of the town I grew up in; of the Science High Training Center where gigs (and beauty pageants, hehe) were held; of Worcestershire and Zombie, their forever cover song; of Bay’s Inn and its cheese sticks; of Puntian overnights of booze, ‘tig-pipiso’ Mulawin MSG chips (haha), and dancing in the dark; of the band I used to stalk; of that music room in Gloria Street; of Underground Chicken Sound, of Sweet Blend Tomato and all those bands whose names had to do with food (I wonder what’s with that era?); of that black shirt I have not worn for quite some time, of the message board where I used to post posing as rakistaKUNO, of my guitar that is currently – Home.
All these flashbacks and more (too personal to disclose, haha) triggered by watching and listening to schoolmates, seatmates, ex-crushes and loves, drunking-mates, and ‘now-grown-up, then kids’ (boy, I feel damn old, haha).
Lost in Purple. When I checked Kath's pics in Multiply, I wondered where I was and what I was doing the entire night. There were pictures of my batchmate friends together; and I don’t even remember where I was when all of that happened, huhu. Even Kath - I remember her sitting beside me while Arkanum was playing but I didn’t really get to talk to her.
Must be the beer, must be the purple. Must be the thought of being invisible. Hay.. But one thing for sure, I certainly regret not being able to talk with good ‘ol friends. Hmm. But I do remember having conversations with those who were lining up in the comfort room. Hmm. God, I was damn lost that night,
