May 13th

It's Draw The Line out here... If you think you have seen the best of Kiko yet, then you'll never forgive yourself bypassing this. As the column's credo, "Putting an end on something means starting anew", you're still assured of a brainy spoon feeds that ain't nothin' to sneeze at...as this writer,well, bragging aside,a no push over.Arguably, as my ate Noli puts it, one beautiful mind to the last frontier of thoughts.

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Francis Ugay Gender: male Astrological Sign: Taurus Location: Sta.Mesa : Manila : Philippines About Me there's helluva thing to be learned about me, well, i'm not trying to become a sort of mystery guy,but as most people would think of me...they all seemed caught off guard for i wasn't someone to be doing those stuffs that usually presumed about me.in short, get to know me better by frequency, not by shallow descriptive ironies only meant to be pinned to those people who don't knew themselves either.i hate individualists, for i know there's something in us that we should be sharing with the people,social that is.i don't go neither with careerists, who basks in the moonlit of a done-to-death idiosyncrasy about one's lazy achievements for personal pleasure not for a noble cause. Interests Journalism old and new age Marxists Activism COnrado deQuiros Dan Brown Nelson DeMille The Philippine setting Favorite Movies a time to kill 50 first dates spider-man con-air i am sam face/off the terminal Favorite Books edjop presumed innocent plum island wings burden of proof adventures of tom sawyer the russian revolution the messianic legacy (sequel of holy blood holy grail) angels and demons

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Tuesday, March 11, 2008
“D” word

In the melee of the public going agog to see the end game of this so-called Gloria Arroyo syndrome, one must, Filipino or not, endure the twinge of realizing we, after all these times— never had democracy at all. Just like our afflicted body we of utmost need to chemo from the cancer that is GMA’s kiths and kin, will bring us back to such understanding (or misunderstanding for that matter) why in spite of two successful thwarting of crooked leaders of the land we are still groping in the infinity of darkness for the tiny light of democracy. That after all the history-shaping, world-renowned people power for the world to know and to be its inspiring representation we ended up paving the way for someone who’ll dampen the flame of freedom—much worse discrediting its biding principles.


And probably each and one of us are now pitted for or against reliving democracy on such an ample hour of reckoning!


Yet again tiresome political turmoil and jockeying for public post dishonor such undertaking, prompting people to think that “…wala rin naming mangyayari kung patatalsikin si Gloria! (…nothing of use will happen in ousting Gloria!)”, on such a staple that perhaps whatever disease we might remove will leave remnants of ills that will kill us later, anyway, in such time we least expected. Ah, even going through an analogy of these people as society’s cancer could send shiver to everybody’s bone.  And looking through such standpoint, it’s not easy at all to defend democracy and the actuality that needs it to be defended…even given these happenings in our most recent recollections of how understandably corrupt, if not barefaced (garapal) crooked these Gang Lords posing to be public officials—elected or otherwise; ruined the lives of many a people.


Having been part of recent movements during college days to remove Gloria from the threshold of executive power, most people who would diverge on sentiments pose that “Whaddoyouthink?” prompters on me to which, the listlessly opinionated that I am would submit to their curiosity. And for most of them, who from the soft bone marrows of theirs hated Gloria, but sees no probable alternative but just to let things go on a status quo. Response to my well-calculated insights would just garner “Sinong papalit? (Who will succeed?)Lalo lang gugulo! (Things will get worse!) Militar lang ang makikinabang! (The military will just be the beneficiary!)” for replies.


While it’s true that Gloria is not the society’s problem, but one has to think of her contribution to the problem. Why she is still on the stands of governance albeit never mandated (cheated last 2004)? Why she keeps on gagging the public by forcing her officials not to tell things they knew in aide of legislation, if not of public accountability? And why she, becoming so idiotic with endless defense of her family’s involvement in government transaction would slap the public in asking to spare her husband (For what? For not bothering him squeeze the hell out of our land’s treasury?)? Why she takes bliss on killing spree (nearly comparable to Hitler’s genocide) to all that challenge and criticize her illegitimacy for all it was worth? I don’t know of people, be it tired or not on the same system that would (and had) cloud this place for the longest time, will ever justify that Gloria is for ours to keep until we get ourselves to act trying alternative for size given the recognition of such problem. These people, even perplexed in their own principle crisis would confirm unanimously that Gloria herself is such a disease one has to get rid off. Problem is these are the types who fear such certainty in themselves or refuse to believe they actually have it.


And again, what if we get rid of her? Will we be seeing that damn democracy?


What of it? Does any one have any idea of what democracy is? It is just a word on your vocabulary, something that the world taught us to learn about but unaware of its existence. It was so superficial even a hairbreadth glimpse of it can be nonchalantly unlearnt and forgotten. For there were never democracy at all since time memoriam! Not since the societal origin of primitiveness wholly defined such existence. For ever since, conflict prevented democracy to carve its name. As long as there’s any one who differ from the standing belief and order of the entirety that it never be known to mankind.


And now just what do we have for it? Can we see it coming?


Continuing crisis, warring beliefs and political ambiguity require us to take stand. Just because we see bleak thoroughfares ahead of us, that we ended up halting the civilization’s progress in sublime derision, shameful that we are to halt the fruition of mankind. That’s how a heave of democracy should take place, not in the comforts of “we abstain since we want peace” or “we decline to join the call” ‘cause it would be the same old story in the aftermath. Giving justice to the word and its supposed existence can even be this big of disease control, and eventually prevention.


The “D” word is waiting for us to open the door for it.

Posted at 03:06 pm by okikz
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Monday, February 18, 2008
My Tatay

January 15, 2008—it was the date of all dates that should've taken place the moment these pair of eyes saw daylight…


I have been living by and by at the confines of what I and my surrounding molded upon me and after all of these 26 years of struggle and otherwise, I have been feeling great knowing the direction I'm taking has been smoothen and broaden by those experiences. I should no longer elaborate on life's ups and downs since its constancy is no longer news to everyone—as every breathing organism get along with it very well. And through these theses of living holding true no matter what, question is who befits who and who completes who comes in the hanging conclusion of everything.


What came as of late on that fated day completes the missing link of my whole being, the unknown quantity of the equation that solves my whole being.


I grew up fatherless. No, my father didn't die nor lost in oblivion but for sure you've heard of these things. I am pretty much an emotional person but this fact was the kind of thing I never put too much weight with. It's not my concern at all, but deep inside I knew there's something missing within me. That situation caused me aplenty of explanation to the world—which, based on my character, I never did.


Fact is I never reeled from believing I would someday meet my real father. And as it seems that every element surrounding me gives motivation to wait, if not pursue, I trusted these instincts of mine to connive with hope. Though my mom and I never ever discussed about it all this time until recently that she concerned meeting my origin, I knew she wondered about the feeling I must have growing up with no one to look up to. I can understand her, perhaps on my side I wouldn't want to inflict any of that pain on her, assuming there is, to inquire about him. My mom now is in Canada"Hi Mac, are you interested to know or meet your real father? I know you're matured enough to understand." It never occurred on me such a chance but I didn't answer back. I'm mulling over that this set up could get me nothing but false hope. And then she called me to inform that she actually contacted my real father and told that he just recuperated from a stroke—which nearly paralyzed him and taken away half of what he is. She gave me contact numbers of my siblings and relatives on my father side which apparently my mom got as well upon contacting them and the rendezvous is to be slated. so she sent an SMS saying,


Then from there on things get to start sending shiver to my bones. I'm being taken back to my childhood days on my place in Pangasinan as someone that had been taken special care of sufficing the absence of my biological father. Been ridiculed as well, kids my age bully their way toward me 'cause they believe I'm helpless and no one can defend for me.


My father does live on the mountainous region of cordillera, in the province of Kalinga and that is to say I have an Igorot blood. Just before Kuya Herbert (my older brother on the fatherside) and I met, I told him thru SMS that I am in Baguio City few months ago and told my girlfriend that's with me by that time that I'm having such  feeling that it would be sooner that I'll meet my father. My brother told me, "you've got those feelings maybe because you belong here in the cordillera region. You're an Igorot. Igorot means people of the mountain."


It never failed to amuse me that I was even part of a bloodline from a minority origin. Though, I must say, the closest association of moi to a higher place was being an activist way back college and before dreamt of trudging the struggle of the mountains (I will no longer elaborate on this point). It's funny I'm beginning to dress myself on my thoughts with those bahag and everything, dancing my way to some rituals I can only see on movies or documentaries relating stories of the minorities.


When it was time to see my father, it was hard to absorb everything. Both of us went awkward as we didn't know if we have to hug or just simply shook our hands (the latter that we did as we never knew what to really do by then). I was just stealing glances off him, trying to figure out how I was able to be created by this man, just like me, even the air he breathes was full of intrigues of the past. We just had a simple question and answer thing but my heart longed to embrace him, probably tell him I survived everything without him. All this time, I longed for those times I should've had him on my side braving my storms, but never was I resentful he never had the chance to saw those phase of my life. I never harbored indignant thoughts blaming him for whatever that happened to me, after all, who am I now would only translate to be part of his glory—with or without his presence.


My siblings accepted me wholeheartedly and it was an addition to already heavy cast of characters in my life. They all have their stories to tell, moments to wonder what could've been growing up together as brothers and sisters known to one another. We are all starting all over, as if, like a clichéd telenovelas, this one deserves a second book—another set of characters to deliver their lines.

Posted at 01:40 pm by okikz
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Now who’s doing an Act of Filipinoism?

Either if it's an act of patriotism or merely an act of survival, Rodolfo Noel "Jun" Lozada Jr., "'siyanong Intsik" as he aptly dubbed himself may as well be on the road for a hero's parade. After having to endure the coercion and supposed attempts to totally pacify the whistleblower (thanks to the media's vigilance), Jun Lozada did what true blue Filipinos deprived of the public (Shame! If only we can withdrew off them such a valiant blood). And where did you see DENR Secretary Lito Atienza (self-proclaimed Martial Law hero) former Malacanang idiot Mike Defensor (member of Congress' Spice Boys who then fought for Erap's Ouster) and Sen. Joker Arroyo (Ah, the Joke has lost its humor) finding themselves together at the fence of hell? Well, only such a scene Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo could muster. It was a shame being ditched willy-nilly by our own compatriots whilst being saved, in spite of life and family risk, by a Probinsyanong Intsik.

Like a paranoia of the minions in GMA's cabal of wickedness, PNP Chief Avelino Razon, Atienza, and idiot Mike Defensor (well, as for the other Defensor, shouldn't I call her lunatic?) led a cover up to eradicate Lozada from the equation of the unsolved GMA's dethronement more than implicated GMA and of course her beloved monster, FG Mike Arroyo as bullying whomever dared come up against them. They just made a statement recently by dumping former Speaker Jose De Venecia because of his troublesome son, Joey incriminated FG to the NBN-ZTE Scandal. Promptly joining the opposition (does he have a choice), the father and son tandem have nowhere "Backing Off".

I've been into the parliamentary of the streets when I was still in college being a studentwriter-activist but I never did see anyone triggered an Anti-GMA movement the way a blunt and unsophisticated guy in Lozada brought at the skin of the teeth of this regime. The people's response commanded more or less 12,000 disgruntled citizen in the business district of Makati City in a call to put an end to GMA's un-moderated greed. Sen. Antonio Trillanes IV with all his suave good looks and firmness never came to a close, though good enough to snatch a Senatorial seat. The comedic Virgilio "Garci" Garcillano, the Bentong look-alike who must've made a fortune off the "Hello Garci" ringtones who even has the gull to run for a congressional seat somewhere in the southern prefecture using the slandered alias of Hello Garci (Though it's apparent the people in Bukidnon was never a fan of his comedic antics). Not even feisty lawmakers in Sen. Alan Peter Cayetano and Sen. Ping Lacson exposure of FG's dubious bank accounts could pin the king and queen of Filipino's misery down to their supposed place. Lozada's uncanny honesty has made him more the credible as he never needed a pertinent scripts and swerving conviction of truth to carve his defining hours on the history of Philippine politics and controversies. He as just he and what he knows it is has impressed and convinced even your regular naysayer.

Whatever Lozada has sprung in the senses of everyone can be something of just another Filipino's point of debate, albeit I hope in eventuality this will put not just his own deliverance but also the nation's salvation as well. I'm just worried lest all of these will be put into naught especially with the forever gullible Filipinos' knack of easily forgetting the wrongdoings of the past and never ever to learn from it.

But judging with what I saw last Friday can be an indication of yet another history-highlighting in the land of Juan Dela Cruz now being saved by the Probinsyanong Intsik.


Posted at 12:48 pm by okikz
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Monday, May 28, 2007
I Remember the Boy

Today, notwithstanding the place I was in for the moment of stillness dully, of unforgivable mockery i am inflicting within myself since the time i decided to work and kiss the ass of these monkey-yankees, i can't help but exhaust myself to the affluence of the corporate world like basking in the bewilderment of my own reckoning. I perhaps somewhat missed everything about me in the past months preceding my new world. Even if at some standards, in comparison to most of my blokes or contemporaries, I am indeed earning a hell of compensation material wise, but that would all boil down to the satisfaction I have as a person of well-kept, err, rather, well-profound and flaunted principle-which is very very questionable.

When I was a kid, I could vividly see in the horizon exactly what I wanted to be with a calculated confidence that I could achieve, if not exceed everyone's expectation on me. When I was a kid, I have my game plan to every undertaking that caught everyone off guard to what I was really capable of that converted to their seemingly relentless adulation, that up to now, even at the brink of flop, I have the remnants of those like I never faltered on this journey, at all, that caused me more than the burden of that beast that was before our national animal. Perhaps almost two decades after that childhood nostalgia, I still can feel the guilt I have caused my younger self for what I have become was far flung from the reach of ol' kid's senses. Ah, I could only imagine "him/moi" grinding teeth to paramount anger for the A-plan never materialized, much worse became exactly the opposite of the envisioned.

Still no reason at all for me to become bitter to what I am now, the gravity of it all, of to what it has boiled down to now is to serve its very purpose. Disappointment, or even frustration may cause you lingering , if not bewailing the momentous past and grind those to see the awful reality of today, but the true meaning of those drastic changes may never foretell how successful or disastrous those metamorphoses have been. My deep apology to that "boy" in my early life, his destiny preceded the downfall of what he envisioned in him, but i would never apologize for the decision I made- to make me separate from him. I would never wish him to be proud of these, but I would want him to realize what I've been all the while.

Let that kid from me capture the world of what he had become!

I thought that was the same reason I'm finding a hard time trying to get in touch with reality for most of the times, that realism can be often to "real" for comfort we bypass the underlying beauty and even the lucid and glare of surrealism. While, up to this point, I can be no believer of such thought, I know for a fact that what brought up these roots in me are founded at the very contention of idealism. Still I don't submit to idealism just to make it clear. Whenever past things pass my stance to remind me of that vision, that feeling of letting down those people who expected much from me more than I did, resolves to some form of self pity, yet at their incessant and unfailing belief with what I have, it was all mixed emotions to compensate my equally confused being.

At the very defining wisdom of the word consolation, one can never expect himself to fail knowing the consistently downgrading standard of mankind. But having to consistently at the end of downgrading, nothing much is to expect with everything that i can muster for now, knowing how inconvenient now for me to look back on how my world was before- given today that I have more than resolved that I was as ordinary as everybody else.

Life sucks! Especially if we find ways to glorify the past while curse what you have for now.

Posted at 03:19 pm by okikz
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Friday, May 18, 2007
Fiesta...Political Stupefactions

(Original Post May 2007)

Politics do make strange bedfellows.


I made my way to our barrio's fiesta in Pangasinan as an annual custom with the gratifying saltwater beach which I really missed, awed in anticipation in waiting moi 
to touchdown again. I really have this egotism that all folks there wait this time of the year coz they knew those are the now rare times I'm returning to my hometown. The people love me anyway, whatever it is I've ventured, they supported wholeheartedly. Which is why some of my peers, implied with such slyness of thought of me running a post there at my place and they tell I'm a shoo-in. Why not …actually why would I?


Later that night whence the festivities was just about to commence, I glanced upon the auditorium to where the program for the fiesta is placed. I was annoyed to see banners of these undeserving idiosyncratic shenanigans all posted enormously on the program stage. I thought I was at the wrong party, "heck, is this miting de avance?" Not even the image of the patron saint of our barangay managed to be pleased about those massive faces. I thought Congressman Bantay-Salakay was now our new patron saint.

I just then learned that it was through the coordination of our own barangay captain's unsolicited "benevolence" why those poster boys literally took the centerstage of the festivities. Former Police Col. Amado Espino, our congressional district's incumbent representative is vying no less than the top post in Pangasinan, running as governor under the banner of Lakas-CMD. Our barangay captain, whom I share lots of hostile histories with was said to be one of his ardent supporter, so ardent he's dragging our rather uninspired voters to his sponsorship of the erstwhile Marcos boy. The other one, the incumbent mayor of our town who is said to be my nanay's godfather (see how influential my family is?) who's not my cup of tea either provides the other life size posters just in case there's a little space that's needed to be covered on the congregation area. 

Let me just take everyone to the history lane why I'd rather be in hell than to constantly visit the salty waters of my hometown given Espino's impending victory (local surveys show Espino will be the runaway winner). Espino was one of the many butchers (berdugo) during the Martial Law era and was said as the supposed killer of Bayan Muna 1st nominee Rep. Satur Ocampo. Dragging Ocampo out of his well-guarded cell, Espino was supposed to shot the left-wing lawmaker but then Ka Satur told the brute colonel, "Don't be a fool, you need me alive." and of course the rest as they say is history. I wouldn't have just imagined how many of the activists of before became part of his dinner but simply this guy is something else, sabi nga nila "daig pa si Palparan. 


Of course Ocampo's case was just something that came in the fluke of chances, history showed how many of our love ones, defenders of freedom, dead black and blue, disappeared in infinity or just simply never made the statistics of casualties—at all—but of course casualties in more ways than one. 


Ka Satur, on his legislative work as representative for Bayan Muna is no stranger to have strange bedfellows in the lower house. He has had Cong. Imee Marcos of Ilocos Norte, daughter of the former dictator, now his mate at the opposition—and sure there are lots of those protagonists of that Dark Age now strutting their stuff in the congress both from left and right extremities. But to have your supposed executioner is really something else. Ironic how the musical chair of Philippine politics work wondrously to the puzzlement, if not dismay of the citizenry and the worming of reactionaries to public office had all been a common pain in the ass for all of us.  Imagine how these gung-ho slaughters made a second career in politics as if they're still undone during their terrorizing heydays and are advancing their rather menacing machismo in legislature. No wonder I had such a terrifying adrenaline looking at the possibility of military domination in politics. Entertainers had had their glory days, now it's the military's turn to wreak havoc. 


Don't you think it's stupefying what the heck these military doing on canvassing, campaigning for who-the-heck these Malacanang backed party list and intimidating legit party list supporters in the community. At least we can attest that there are rampant efforts to downplay this election to make Arroyo stay put in power. Who these idiots are stupefying?


(Too bad though, as the recent results of the provincial canvassing, Espino was just recently proclaimed as our new gov-doomsday! I hope that the Pangasinenses had enough intelligence like the Kapampangans to catapult someone like Fr. Panlilio in office.)

Posted at 01:37 pm by okikz
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Friday, April 27, 2007
Sense of Urgency

There’s more to life in writing that no matter how you pass it off the scene of living, there and there are those nuances egging painstakingly on every writer’s senses—genuine or pretender, depth against trivialized knacks.

For a year’s hiatus, I’ve ignored temptations to write since I just knew how frustrating such would’ve been. Albeit there are people who would just show up, unexpected, and trying to relive within the serenity of thoughts would crave even for a phrase of verse, I would just smile gladly, though not peace with it declining to the bait. I guess I thought I was done with it and there’s no way I could exercise options that would drag me to take the pain of pen again. But the analogy of lust will just beckon in the becoming, complete with the vision of sultry, curvaceous female specie exiting your exploding testosterone. The next thing you knew you’re just hooked exuding the machismo, and pardon the chauvinistic representation, the man once more felt the nature of manhood.

But  lust for writing, as a matter-of-factly occurrence to someone who deprived himself of it, for whatever reason are bound to explode and end up joggling once again word per word. Rusts are thick it could pare down the firm strength and sharpness of the writer. Though nothing stopping once you worm the way of it, it really is how depth you’ve dug is what your foundation to spawn such knacks to get back into the groove.

I shunned from my own frustrations in writing that before, I even relegated reading to completely take it away from me. I guess I was that bitter, I even told I have nothing to prove—as if there I’ve been successful enough to bask for retirement. And then with emphatic cynicism, I abandoned some blueprints of my life ‘cause I resolved there will be no turning back, that I’m devoured with the world I never imagined I could be a part of.

What I didn’t see coming is how the idle year of fruitless melancholy brought me—melancholic, yet chaotic as the circus that resorts on exploiting animalandia to showcase the best show on earth. There it seemed I ceased to breathe, no one knows how it had slowly eaten up my system. I screwed up and let the downfall creep and rot my flawed self. I would think of it first as overreaction but the real case is that I’ve contain much of the feelings not to show how tragic it had become within.

Heartrending times call for redefining urgency to break the cycle. Even if I couldn’t write as prolific as I was before, at least I regain the principle my love affair for writing has since carried, not just my name but my overall personae for that matter. There will be abundant of opportunity to do it, it would be difficult regaining the confidence but it would only do as good as it could get knowing this is the only way to life I’ve ever conceive as livable. Until I recognize the reason I gave up writing is uncalled for and my resiliency boost my bid to regain everything, that I think will be the perfect time to start anew and rebuild the once formidable writer sensing the need of his kind to defend the freedom of information and freedom to mankind.

Posted at 03:17 pm by okikz
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Monday, July 31, 2006
Time to Draw the Line...Once more

Hiatus? Do we think the battle-royale for the political supremacy cooled off? Or just maximizing this momentary cessation to pull off yet a momentum of explosives?
Plainly shunning off, or maybe swayed by the standoff that riffed the pandemonic mantra in the air of paranoia, in the oceans of perhaps the most corrupt group of people in the world-next just of course to the reigning monster United States, Philippines' political crisis stood out unlike any other, as one of the most chaotic but embossed with a clearly seen culprits. Historic philosophers, usually awed with their wagging-didactic finger resonated the intellectual prowess covering their mortal bodies may bewail the improbable downfall of the system they architected, for the burgeoning quality of leaders we see will quantify the irreparable flaws of the existing order that was meant to be perfect- to see GMA, still ruling surrounded by her tail-wagging dogs who bark mostly on the wrong trees. But hiatus may not be the right word, for in between those infinite slumbers, I've been listening and keeping an eye to the world, the might of the pen kept on drawing the lines to those plight that needs to be plucked in the realms of better living.
Oh well. We, for most of the times overdo the things to rectify the abnormalities of the situations.Then again it's the price to pay for eagerly rather than patiently work out the imminent downfall of an unpopular reign. We lament on our misgivings, but then again we can no longer stay as spectators of these long running show, to which our participation isn't just a magnitude of how crucial the situation is but more importantly on how we are as contributors of the plot are going to take centerstage to denounce the telltale of the present script-just like what we normally see on done to death local flicks.
The upcoming SONA perhaps may take the twist to our very own roles in salvaging this country from utmost plight. We've been plucked, not just dragged to improbable miseries.While the average height of Filipinos stands at 5 feet 2 inches, we've been thrown nilly-willy to the edge of our distress by someone who just stands 4 feet 11 inches, and majority of the people have grown cynical to even the comical anttics of life, as it prolonged the frustration to the so called regime. One may wonder the inner defiance we unanimously feel over GMA's juggernaut, out of too much disillusion, we ended thinking those improbables, perhaps to commit space voyage and look for someplace else to leave other than earth. But more often than not, such disillusion and frustration, such state of inner defiance can spellbind the gnawing thrust of reforming this society. We grew from humungous discontent and see whatever left to us as something we can not come up with another alternativity rather denouncing what it is we have. That manifests the rotten state of the political, economical, and cultural trifecta that set to define this society-a total imbalance on the angular perspective of living. It's unfair to recriminate GMA as the sole reason for the general problem, it's unfair as well to blame only the political bickerings of our leaders as reason for the stalled progress of our lives. There are more viable reasons other than that, only that these issues and personalities are presented to us to realize the more corroborative ills of our abnormal system. These include foreign intervention in the phantasm of military aids, indirect colonization in the guise of financial assistance. These are all tantamount to the collaterals we've been paying all throughout, it's never-ending and it isn't likely to cease so long as we continue to deny this within our senses. The sightings of imperialist control on our land, the bureaucratic capitalism, and the remaining feudal deterioration that imperils eversince the progressive growth of Filipinos remain the big threes that's dwarfing whatever attempts we have for furtherance.
It's been a year since we had witnessed successive street protests, Senate inquiries, controversies and hullabaloos that rocked the very foundation of Arroyo's administration, further dividing this country to its most perilous situation-exposing more over the cheat-marred election to the dismay of the public. Barely a recollection of last year's condemnation saw the nation affronted with divisive probes of what had had happened in the national polls that took its toll through Garci tapes gave the media its fat fish to fry, and as it was, still the nagging befuddlement on the probes as Malacanang refuses to this very moment any glimpse of Garci's accountability to the public. Jocelyn "Joc Joc" Bolante's, the controversial former Department of Agriculture (DA) undersec rouse from hiatus as he was nabbed outside this country is reluctant still to be signed, sealed, delivered here in our soil. Joc Joc allegedly orchestrated the ignominous fertilizer scam that produced hundreds of millions rumored to have been used by GMA last national election. Joc Joc was supposed to appear before a Senate Inquiry regarding the accusations but alas, just how gagged his name was the same gagging he made disrespectful of the officials. And what do you say? As if these administration runs out of irony as those who have large accountability to the public bask in the mayhem of GMA's penchant in appeasing her wards as another election playmaster in AFP General Hermogenes Esperon has been fat-fed by the regime by being appointed as the new AFP chief. And that compose her distrusted administration- filled by personalities of ignominous credibility which no one can appreciate but GMA , complete complement of the master herself. GMA's hate squad is practically on the loose and devilishly they're unleashing their shits to propel a yet another hellfire of enterprise in the guise of Charter Change.
We've been deceived right there and then, we've been robbed by our civil rights with deprivation of knowing what truly happened as if it never occurred to us how GMA would nonchalantly do everything just to lay her butt to the throne. That is of course doing a heck of lying...if not so then cheating...if it will not do at all then unleash rampant killings. Again, it isn't just GMA, as the sole entity that's thrusting us deep in our death beds but it was of course the immediate culprit in our grasps-and yet we can not crush a tiny mole out in the oblivion. Lurking at her shadows will of course another monster to battle.
If we don't begin to eradicate a tick like GMA, how are we suppose to grind bulls like her masters? It's indeed time to draw the line once more, if we need to do it in the gung-ho, hell may care ways then be it, rather then let this highly-partisan battlefield robbed of a victory once more.

Posted at 09:38 pm by okikz
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Sunday, June 25, 2006

It always happens this way. I will wake up as early as I could even at the perturbed state of spending an ounce of needed rest at the comfort of everything that surrounds my slumber; that same feeling that you hate having to leave those just to face the morning looking forward but honestly clung to the confines of everything about your bed. Often that I leave you with a heavy heart, even if I am assured of going back to your arms once I get home from work, that look in your face would hold me from going anywhere, for no reason that the life we are trying to build, though it's not solely reliant to what I am doing, but was the main reason why we somehow scraped some of the enormous principle we build as a couple.

Riding the jeeps, makes me look back to where we did start as lovers. I could vividly remember the first time we rode together a jeepney is actually the same day we started this thing. How those busy street widened a little to make way for this enormous feeling that i have for you which somehow trudged the path and made commendable achievements in building this life that we have right now. Of course, during also a jeepney ride where we validated everything about us for the wind in that vehicle braving our face made us realize that it isn't worth it to give this up; during those time of extreme confusion. I would never had an idea how many times we rode together through it, but certain of course will be how much of these rides had piled up to carry us to insurmountable heights where planes can never even carry us.

Trains often confuse me how it survived doing their transit redundantly while roaring and smoking their way to carry people to their destination. They seemed to have that mindset, they never tire of doing the same thing all over again and perform that in ardent empathy and in extreme passion like everything's new for them for the day. It was the same motivation that I've seen with this whole thing with you. I don't know when will be that time we'll get tire of looking at that same faces, holding those same bare hands, and having to be with that same person with every aspiration that you weave as a human being.

Before my life with you, I always dread riding buses for the reason it carries a reputation of conceiving the bilest and the most devilish form of being. It always give me a traumatic feeling riding it, knowing what they always portray on movies as if it's a "ride away from hell" sort of thing.  The sight of listless passengers, often I suspect them as someone who will just snatch anything and slit any part of your flesh whenever you tried to resist, made my paranoia grew accustomed to my every bus ride. But you made my hell become my haven of serenity, if not the only heaven-like place on earth I can care to muster. Now, I always feel the excitement of riding a bus to the point of dragging you in reckless nonchalance like I could never care where we at just for that ride of our lives. You always make me smile collecting those bus tickets, for no reason what is it worth, I can actually relate with your fondness of making sure you have those tickets kept. The same passion we have makes an inevitable remorse whenever it's about time to alight off the monstrous vehicle.

Am I riding high with this emotion? Well, certainly I'm enjoying the journey itself and that i would never even worry what at the end of this looks like. I wander in the own quandaries of the value of getting aboard on this ride of my life. Lest that I could sense what the turbulence of the entirety of the journey has come to bestow me, I would never ever trudge any path other than this one way infinity.

Ah, what would the roads taken be so incredibly appeasing other than this? For the uncertain things shape themselves is how certain I commit my life in molding this love affair

that never faltered even in the humps of destitution. Even at every stoppage, it awes me to get through it knowing we'll be at the same seat on this one hell of a joyride.

For sure, I will always be in love with you even at every bus stop.


Posted at 03:57 pm by okikz
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It was downtime and I'm anxiously, maybe badly needed to write somethings. Prior to writing, I've been reading things in the internet-more or less related to my sportspotting lazy wanton for readable, that all something that may never define anything off me at all. I was reading more of those articles written by people of my age in the net, some of them I had brushed elbows with during my heydays as hard-pressed, self-proclaimed (as my would be wife always put it) finest writer to come off my place. I had those, for oftentimes, knack for unfailing criticisms to everything i read especially that of those of my contemporaries and I could consider the waning beauty of writing if not of the relentless stand off comparison of past and hitherto-which for most part of my n=being a student writer, would confuse me to take the contemporary or relive the good ole grammar-free literature of yesteryears.

But none of these knacks for writing seem to set a defining path to what I had become...


Downtime still (45 mins and counting)


Hardly had I set off writing with anything that past my stance, when I'm on it, i'm religiously focused. Nothing train my becoming could pull nor drag me off these sleaze paper and pen unless blown with the imagination of succumbing to the current of winds to bring forth my litterateur. Now, I'm writing this just because of my unwanted job relegated me to form my words again (thanks, but no thanks!). Hardly had i have downtime in my career setting writing prowess. At least I was cocky, still, the only remnant of that bewailed persona i have exuded before-whom people around would love to hate or vice versa. At least i' m happy with the way I'm permeating the person i was before, I'm happy with all the criticisms of my accolades, I'm happy to compete-I'm happy on that league to say the least.


Downtime, time is sort of dawning on me, I'm fighting back, struggling to reform these words. It will take and buy me some time, but I'll definitely worm my way through it. I needed to be spark plugged, perhaps tell me that I'm one of those incompetent, overrated and pathetic scribe and I would pounce on it to prove you dead wrong. Perhaps slap on my face that my time was out, and I need to hang these imaginative "comebacks" that is set to further add insult to that injury-and I'll just devour you and leave you dirt-licking for you thought of something that irreverent enough to awaken the slumbering passion waiting to explode on every slight opening so beware!

I would excite in non-chalance, i would flare up your competing level and I'll send you to sleep in dire nightmares. I'll be at your face for most time, to remorse that you'd messed up with a wrong guy that you should've let to be swallowed by his ignominious destiny. I'll stage a comeback, startling and explosive as ever; I'll put y'all to shame and reclaim my throne, that king-of-the-hill thing kind of speech. Expect more than that and voila! You will never know what will hit you and you'll spend time just to get over that dizzying stunner.

I'd treated my every writing, painstakingly, as if a part of my human flesh wanting to niche a place on the walls of fame. Hell no, but mostly, to become part of my alienating society. I even want to begin forth a novel using my own blood for introduction, if that wasn't a passion for you, then perhaps tore a skin off me and place that as part of the cover. And will desperately do that to redeem myself, I had had my redemptions way back, and it is as if I'm never alien to this kind of situation. It will take an excruciatingly diminutive time, but I'll be on the right track.


Downtime...but not for long


Good thing I've caught second wind for this time of reckoning, for all of the appalling logics of my current situation, in between thoughts of life contemplation against pursuit of individual greatness. This may sound a bit

uncanny to think I was blabbing the mantra of serving the people, while, as of the moment having to be put on hold, I have full concentration in getting what is due to myself, call it an individualist act, but I'd rather trust my sense for it-or knack for it. I may not be as sharp when I come back, neither a fit to somewhat league of my younger years, but I know an unfinished business is set to be redeveloped and rediscovered-all of the envisioned before, for a while dinned for nothing, but will be the old reliable machine to perform its purpose. It's all peaceful as I trudge this letter making device thrusted by my ill-feeling toward my unbecoming to this prodigal craft. Shrilling like a reeling lunatic whose eager to outdo each and everyone, but the truth is, this is more than a passionate aching for that life forlorn, this the imminent repercussion, if not direct reflection of life caught between principle and stability.




Posted at 03:47 pm by okikz
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Monday, February 27, 2006
What Happened to Moi

It's been a while since I obliged myself writing here. It's not that I have ignored my craft in exchange for the cruels of the corporate world, but for some reason, and quite oddly uncharacteristic of me, I didn't have anything in mind to write about. My misadventures during the LRT stampede (Dec.25) would've made me going back typing another history here in my blog, even my New Year disaster woud've been also a prime candidate- but I, being as busy as hell during the past months and so made the story of my life devoid of another page during that period. A lot of things that happened to me as of late that would made me assume life as its best so to speak. Luck has struck my way preceding this 2006 and still basking on this fortunate events that get me going amid pressure from all the people around me. I know for sure how deserving I am for this moment, yet it provides me some sort o discomfort knowing all the tragedies that transpired in the Philippine soil-The Ultra stampede, the catastrophic flood somewhere south, for my self, how Ginebra lost its final bid against red bull, R/E-Vat (fuck that crap!), oh well, a dwarf still devilishly smiling in Malacanang. I was pretty much sick with all of these curse in every Pinoy's life, got that both literally and figuratively. Still I consider how blessed I am that whenever these unwanted things come my subsistence, I'm glad to have people who continually brace themselves behind me to help me stand up whenever I falter. Honestly, I don't know where this essay may lead me, but before it divert itself to wherever, I would like to tell how grateful I am, especially to Nadhel and her family, whom in this past half a year, considered me as an endeared family member. Sana makaganti ako sa lahat ng pinaparamdam niyo sa 'kin. They were indeed my home away from home. To my Nadhel, for taking good care of your "Beh" na sakit sakitan portion nowadays. I love you tenfolds!!! Seryoso, I haven't felt cared as I was with her. We have indeed weathered the storm of a couple and I'm grateful to trudge this path with you! May biggest thanks, too to my COC Kings (Na Giant na daw ngayon) jolektibs, for their continued support and understanding with my situation, MANANALO TAYO SA ELEKSIYON ITAGA NYO YAN SA BATO!!! Whew, there, finally I'm done and after a while, there's an entry for this blog. Kiko Matsing

Posted at 03:25 pm by okikz
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