Turris Eburnea: Ivory Tower

On Escape (no, not that crap by Enrique Iglesias)

2010-01-05T13:06:00.002+08:00

Woke up at 2:30pm, which is a big deal for me considering the fact that I honestly did not want to get out of bed today. My eyes hurt from reading and writing for too long on the computer (they feel heavy, as if they're trying to force me to close them), it was wayyy after lunch and nobody was home (and I had this stupid notion that the less I moved my body, the less hungry I would feel and I would be able to survive until dinner time at least), and I was right smack in the middle of a funny dream where I was talking Timmi the Internet Tough Girl about how gutsy she was during that Hong Kong incident of hers (this coming from her Facebook rant being the last thing I read before going to sleep).

Sigh, dreams and escape. This coming from the fact that the second to the last thing I read before going to sleep was the graphic novel Blankets by Craig Thompson. You see, the problem with all the melodramatic, emo stuff going around nowadays is that it gets easier and easier to distinguish the works that come straight from the heart, and those that are simply trying hard to get attention. Thompson's is a memoir of sorts, so that should tell you something about how heart-tugging this work is. In short, go read this, and see if you don't shed a few tears, or at least feel your heart beating just a little bit harder in the process.

Craig (who is also the protagonist) has two ways of escape from reality: his drawings and his dreams. And I guess this is what my eyes want me to do, at least for today: to escape the harsh realities that are the fact that there's nobody at home, that I'm totally unproductive due to this wasted schedule of mine, that my thesis is still unfinished.

As I am writing this, I hear the first lines of "World Spins Madly On" by the Weepies: "Woke up, and wished that I was dead, with an aching in my head, I lay motionless in bed". Which what I was exactly just a few hours ago, tossing and turning, with a stiff neck, and wondering if it was worth getting up at all.
I flash back to the time I was back in first year. It was the first class of Humanities 1, under Ma'am Ai (who wasn't my friend yet). As an icebreaker of sorts, she asks us what books we like to read. I, being a geek who was obsessed with the Legend of the Five Rings and Magic: the Gathering mythoi, answer:

Me: "I like fantasy, science fiction, that sort of stuff."
Ai: "Oh, so you're an escapist?"
Me: "Um, not really."
Ai: "Ahh, okay. Next?"

To tell you the truth, though, I never knew my answer to Ma'am Ai's question.

A tall, ice-filled glass of Coke, a good book, and a small speaker playing something relaxing, like Sigur Ros, Death Cab for Cutie, Owl City or the Weepies.One of the best ways of forcing yourself to write anything.

All this microblogging shit is giving everybody ADD

2009-12-29T13:39:00.000+08:00

51 character title! Which I can totally Plurk/Tweet! Not!

I mean, 140 characters is more than enough for real-time news updates (The best use I've seen so far for the medium. Ingenious, actually). But honestly, if you're planning to write anything more profound than that, then one hundred and forty letters, punctuation marks and spaces combined is not going to get you anywhere near what a good rant, gush or simple musing about anything under the sun and moon can reach. There's a reason why people used to allot entire pages for diary entries, you know.

In short, nobody reaches for the sun and moon any more, content with the airy weightlessness of every hackneyed quote and insignificant detail of their lives for everyone to give their own hackneyed and insignificant comments to.

And please, do not even get me started on the karma system.

Psychometric nostalgia but not really: a not really review of Transformers Encore Generation 1 Optimus Prime for both collectors and non-collectors

2009-12-13T22:21:00.000+08:00

(Psychometry is a psychic skill wherein one is able to sense the vibrations that are left on an object by somebody who has handled it, enabling the psychic to sense various details about the object's owner or most recent handler by simply touching the object)

For the longest time, I have wanted a G1 Optimus Prime, my own copy of the now-so iconic mold that has entertained kids until they were old enough to entertain their own kids by buying them their own toys, so they would leave those of their dad alone. Never mind which version it was: I can't afford the vintage one, and besides, I'm going to be playing with it anyway. The TFC (Transformers Collection) series version was wayyy too expensive (around 10-12k, to be exact) for my taste, and Hasbro's recently released 25th Anniversary Prime was fugly and getting lots of bad reviews, so in the end I decided on the most recent Japanese release, the Transformers Encore version: not too expensive (usually around 2.5-3k, but I got mine for 2k yay) and one of the more decent-looking versions nowadays.

Funny how toys have changed in the last twenty years, I say to myself as I look at the box's contents. Back then, you had to take time to clip stuff and stick stickers onto your Optimus Prime toy and its trailer before you could play with it properly, a pre-play stage of sorts where you could sort things out mentally before actually handling the toy the way it was supposed to be handled. Compare this with today's toys, where everything is practically ready to play with out of the box, hence the frustration of some kids and parents when they find out the toy was supposed to have a launching missile that they accidentally threw away with the box.

Of all the Optimus Primes designed and released through the years, Generation 1 Optimus Prime still probably has the best looking truck mode. Why? Simple: it was meant to look good as a truck more than anything else. Nowadays, designers try to make it look as both truck and robot. Even the Masterpiece version (the largest toy in the cabinet shot, Generation 1 Optimus is the truck on Masterpiece's back) pales in comparison of truck modes, and the Masterpiece toy, I will tell you, is anything but simple.

Transformation is as simple as it gets. Thanks to the lack of intricate joints to hide something as big as a fist in, you have to plug in two fists from the included extra parts in order to transform Optimus into robot mode. Somewhere, somebody is reading this now and wondering when exactly did he lose the fists of the Generation 1 Optimus Prime he had when he was little.

There are hinged joints on Optimus' shoulders, elbows, hips and knees. By today's standards, articulation like this would only count as decent if it were on a figure less than a third of its size. The head can't even move from side to side. Sure, you can place him into an 'I am raising my gun because I am the leader of the Autobots and I want all Autobots to transform and roll out!', but that's about it.

Oh yeah, and in case I forget to mention it: for all its simplicity, Generation 1 Optimus Prime still affords to have a decent amount of metal parts, specifically its legs and feet. You weigh him in your hand, and you know that you're holding a good, weighty toy. Nowadays, even the Japanese, the genius toy makers that they are, hesitate to use metal as generously, due to its heaviness and because, well, it's just a lot more expensive to incorporate into toys nowadays. And this is why chromed plastic is so popular nowadays.

As I transform Optimus into robot mode and back into a truck for the third time before typing this and going to sleep, I get a weird feeling, something I can only describe as akin to a mix of psychometry (which is impossible since this toy is brand new) and nostalgia (which is impossible since I have never owned a Generation 1 Optimus Prime toy before this). It's somewhat an endearing look, the way a mother looks at her son, as she both savors the present moment and looks back as the time he allowed her to carry him in her arms: a look at a past time when toys that could both transform and actually move their arms after being transformed were the coolest thing ever, when oh-so-durable metal was a staple for toys, when nobody cared for such alien concepts as 'poseability' and 'show-accuracy', when toys felt more like toys when you held them with both hands (and needed more care as well, lest you lose a fist).

Don't lose a fist.

Because I missed writing for the heck of it...

2009-12-11T14:35:00.000+08:00

Amidst the information overload that is a Jeopardy episode (never mind if it is the Teen Tourmanent, where the questions are easy as hell), my mind is swimming with a hundred thousand thoughts: stories, both real and not, that I have neither time nor effort to place on paper, for reasons too stupid to rationalize. My thesis, a look at three contemporary Filipino marvelous realism novels, is, as always, at the forefront of my mind, but at the back of my fingers. It stifles me: nothing can escape, can come into existence, whether on paper on the binary. Anything that does manage to escape is turned random, into a senseless pile that appears not to deserve to be written in the first place.

Life is a meaningless cycle of food, movies and the Internet. I need to write, something that doesn't involve Transformers or my thesis. I need to get out of this before my parents get too pissed off at how the cycle has its grip on me.

No, photography, the Transformers forums and Facebook aren't helping.

If only it was this easy to write all the time...

2009-09-07T07:37:00.000+08:00

I wish blogs were like sale threads in a forum. That way I could simply shout Bump, Update or Bumpdate and everyone would be looking around again.

But that's just me. Bleargh.

Just so I can say I still write something here every now and then.

2009-08-16T13:19:00.000+08:00

I am typing this in the hospital because I am here to visit my lolo after an unsuccessful toy hunting morning. My lola jokes to my recovering lolo that I only came to show him that I had a haircut and had my beard trimmed, which I did last Wednesday. Lolo hated my long hair and beard, he always told me I looked like garbage. Good thing that lolo is recovering nicely, the only thing I could think of alongside thinking of typing this out was whether I would say that little piece of trivia about my hair and beard on lolo's funeral, which, thankfully, does not seem to be coming anytime soon.

Blame mama's ominous mood this morning, when she left to be with lolo on his operation.

Three words

2009-03-29T22:46:00.000+08:00

Sem. Finally. Over.

Wordpainting: One afternoon, walking around Freedom Park

2009-03-22T13:24:00.000+08:00

(Note: These "poems" are an attempt to break the uncontrollable tendency to write poetry in obstructively highfalutin language and mind-numbingly convoluted syntax and structures, to shatter the ubiquitous illusion that agreeably good poetry, admittedly, need not be fully understood -- no wonder some writers hate, no, loathe adverbs.)

SEVERINO WALKING HOME

They call him a terrorist
The white hairs of his beard twitch
If he is a terrorist, he is an old one
Too old, perhaps, to wrestle with picket police
But still too young to be immortalized as Ka Severino
He looks up at the trees near Men's Dorm
As he takes step after weary step
I pass him on the turn, seeing his tired face
"He could use some cheering up," I say to myself
So as our eyes meet the way people walking past each other do,
I smile at him, the widest I can without having to bare my teeth
(For we all know baring teeth is an instinctively, animalistically hostile act)
Trying to get my face to say, "Cheer up Sir," as noiselessly as possible
Somehow, I am not surprised to see that he does not smile back,
That his impassive half-frown (it must be the moustache and beard)
Stay even as he walks past
Now, I am truly not surprised
This man has probably received too much hate today;
Hundreds, even thousands of frowns that a single smile
Could only against hope to counteract.

Too much for his old soul to bear,
Too much for his old soul to care.

LONE PALM

Testament to nature versus nurture, he stands
The lone advocate of wood and leaf in his Alamo
Surrounded by soldiers of black steel and brown cement
He does not grow taller anymore, as organisms are wont to do
He simply sheds his old fronds, drops his fruits, and begins anew
Until old age and disease take their toll on his life
Unlike hie enemies, who are immune to the ravages of time
Whose only sicknesses are rust and chipped paint
They who will light the evenings
Even after their single enemy is long gone.

ARTURO'S SON FLIES A KITE

Arturo holds one wing in each hand
It is one of those delta-shaped kites,
Green to match the lightest of the field's grasses
Arturo tells his son to run
And run the rotund little boy does
All smiles,
Hands sweaty in their grip,
Legs pumping
Arturo lets go of the kite
Steadily, steadily it rises
Catching the air the child's feet rush past
Between the motions of running, looking forward and back,
He feels a certain stillness in the kite's flight
This zen allows for him to keep running
Until alas, he has reached the field's edge
He stops on the edge of the road and catches his breath
Letting the kite float down and become one with the grass,
Its string slicing through the chitchat of a benched couple
The boyfriend is considerate:
He holds the wings up the way Arturo did
And tells the boy to run back where he started
The child obeys, and pretty soon he is in zen again
Until he runs into Arturo's embrace
Father and son now exhausted, they fold the kite up
And hail a jeep to take them back to the Batcave.

Wordpainting: One afternoon, walking around Freedom Park

2009-03-22T13:13:00.000+08:00

On passion, performances, and performers (batu-bato sa langit, ang tamaan MAMATAY)

2009-03-15T07:10:00.000+08:00

I miss the days when people actually believed in the power of brainstorming. There is nothing more comforting in creative work than to see your fellow man and woman, like-minded or otherwise, thinking along with you, participating in this collective creative process which churns out projects so beautiful that they would have strained the sanity of a single individual.

I miss the days when people maintained enough humility, and probably enough faith in how effective developing muscle memory is, to actually attend practices; those who, in spite of the knowledge that they have a lot of things to do (don't we all?), are still willing to dedicate whatever time they have left for the project's cause. After all, time is never wasted in a meeting: the time between practices and brainstorming sessions allows one to talk, and perhaps bond, with the people you work with, and a performer knows that these bonds will endure way after the ephemeral high of the performance itself has worn off. Nowadays, all we have is a bunch of primadonnas who are OBVIOUSLY so talented that they don't need practice, and show their smug faces only on the night before a performance, or worse, on the morning, or worst, on the afternoon of the performance itself. I don't even know which one is worse: showing up late, or backing out of a performance? What, may I ask, ever happened to hard work?

I miss the days when people did volunteer work because of an itch, a passion for creating beautiful things for their supposed audiences, and not for a fucking grade. I miss people who perform for the sake of performing, for the high that you can only get from close to a thousand people's eyes and attentions (which, I may add, are a wonderful source of motivational energy) turned towards you. Who cares for a .25 incentive, when supposedly you have been given an opportunity to bring art to those who may bask in it, and may probably be inspired by it, making you one to be remembered in the process, a reward not even a flat 1 can replace.

Jackie, Eljay, Pen, Tin, Anjai: Thank you.

Ran-dumb (w/ linkspam)

2009-03-07T18:40:00.000+08:00

-Bandwagoning the fact that people haven't written anything, much less anything decent, in their Multiply blogs recently. Real life (and Plurkers) getting in the way again, I suppose. And that can only mean one thing: DAILY SUMMER BORED BUM BLOGGING muahahaha

-I. Want. This.

-Can't get Ikue Ohtani's voice out of my head.

-Corruption is evil. So evil, in fact, that not even we toy collectors are spared (I don't know if this is bad grammar).

-Everybody was right: Cyclonus is an awesome figure. Am also getting addicted to the Rushed Reviews on YouTube. Something about the combination of poetry (so what if its bad?) and Transformers.

-Good thing Ma'am Pinpin's trippy with her 11:59pm online paper deadlines. Only got to post mine at around 11:25pm.

-Did drums for Isang Daan last Friday night. Thought I did horrible, but Angge and the others didn't seem to notice. Come to think of it, haven't picked the sticks up and used the set for months now. Don't worry Angge, we'll be good boys and girls.

-The fireworks after the centennial concert weren't actually for said event; they were for the COMA 104 foodfest in the Mariang Banga area. Kimchi for the win.

-Hung around for a while and watched part of the National Grappling Championships in Megamall this morning. And for some reason, watching kids trying to choke and bar each other into submission amused me in a way I haven't experienced in some time.

-Somewhere in the Shaw area, there is a person by the name of Joanie Mitchell who leases office spaces. Wonder if her parents were tripping when they thought of her name.

-I'm as stable as the wheels on LC Bulkhead. I think.

Hekhekhek

2009-02-15T23:03:00.000+08:00

Elaine's post makes me realize that I haven't written anything in this blog for a long while now.

Heck, I haven't even written anything outside of this blog for a long while now.

Heck, I haven't written anything outside school requirements for a long while now.

Heck, I can't even write anything readable in this blog now.

Screw this writing drought. Real life is getting in the way again.

Hekhekhek

2009-02-15T22:50:00.000+08:00

Elaine's post makes me realize that I haven't written anything in this blog for a long while now.

Heck, I haven't even written anything outside of this blog for a long while now.

Heck, I haven't written anything outside school requirements for a long while now.

Heck, I can't even write anything readable in this blog now.

Screw this writing drought. Real life is getting in the way again.

2AM a few nights ago, while I was depressed and stuff

2009-01-01T18:06:00.000+08:00

I feel like I'm living a double life. When I’m in eLBi, I have a social life: hanging out with different friends and groups of friends from morning until night. When I’m back in Antipolo, however, I’m turned upside down: I am a loner, with no immediate community to accompany me, which is probably the reason why I am forever doing things on my own, a mockery of true independence.

When I’m in eLBi, I feel so happy surrounding myself with people, and it has taken a toll on my Antipolo life, where I have supposedly been content with my isolation before. It is not an easy trip out of the house, I’ll admit, for the nearest friends live at least forty minutes away from me. Still, I persist, if only to feel others’ genuine company, not the awkward and easily misunderstood artificial gobbledygook that is chatting over the Internet. Still, it is not nothing.

It’s all a matter of seeing the glow of other auras, I guess. That “warmth” the existentialists said we needed to stop looking for in other people and find in ourselves in order to truly live as islands...

Imma gonna stop nao I think I’m repeating myself again

Happen You Year?

2008-12-31T19:53:00.000+08:00

Yes, it’s a new year,

But it drowned in the rain

The only explosion I hear

Is the pop of champagne

But still, the fizzy

Doesn’t go to my head

For although I feel dizzy

I’m still feeling a bit dead

Another year passed

And I’m still the same me

On the computer, on my ass

Writing bad poetry

The silence hurts my ears

I’m an emotional mess

But it’s finally here

So Happy New Year, I guess

Verses for Random Christmassy Things

2008-12-23T14:47:00.000+08:00

An almost last-ditch effort to get into the spirit of the season, since for some reason, Christmas isn't getting to me yet. Pardon these.

I.
Rotund, polished, gleaming you,
Flashing the red of a fresh apple,
The green of a handful of basil leaves,
And the gold of sugared honey.
My joyous little ball,
A world unmarred by crack and crater,
Join your friends in orbit,
Around the wooden, iron or plastic galaxy.
Guided by a sun at its pinnacle,
You, ball, are the perfect planet,
A place in time where frowns do not exist,
Where, reflecting the hearts of those who stare at you,
You become the sons of your sun,
Radiating His spirit into those
Who gather for each others' warmth.

II.
Sit still, and help us remember
The mystery of two milennia past,
When saints roamed the days
And angels guarded the nights.
When the dust was still
And the night glowed with its own warmth
You, king, hold your box well,
Do not forget who you present it to.
Please stay still, do not move,
And let the silence speak to us
Through your straining wooden limbs
Until we, too, are as still as you are
In our own re-enactment
Of your holy night
When stars will dance on our shoulders
As the darkness begins to glow once more

III.
Sitting, you seduce me
As I count your numbered days
Until I shall finally tear it all off
And lay my eyes on your beauty.
O, angulous temptress,
I am consumed by imagining
What lies beneath your garments
And which thoughts brought your creation.
Your figure fills my mind,
Curious at the thought of stripping you bare,
Until the time comes at last,
When all the walls in my mind crumble
And I am free to ravage you
To the joy of everybody.

Daniel Keyes is fun too, among others (reading blurb, among others)

2008-11-23T14:35:00.000+08:00

"Don't misunderstand me. Intelligence is one of the greatest human gifts. But all too often a search for knoledge drives out the search for love. This is something else I've discovered for myself very recently. I present it to you s a hypothesis: Intelligence without the ability to give and receive affection leads to mental and neural breakdown, to neurosis, and possibly even psychosis. And I say that the mind absorbed in and involved in itself as a self-centered end, to the exclusion of human relationships, can only lead to violence and pain."

-Charlie Gordon

That said, I believe everyone and their mother should read Flowers for Algernon. Wonderful how Keyes manages to stick in equal parts emo, retardation, mush and smartassery and still makes the whole thing cute enough to be an easy read.

Not so much for the other book I'm reading, though. H. P. Lovecraft, I believe, demands a patience and sophistication not for those who want easy (though not necessarily light, mind you) reads. Still, if you can handle the verbosity of it all, Lovecraft's weird short stories are a cute trip back to the times when there was no TV and it was all right to exoticise niggers. Personal favorites: "Herbert West -- Reanimator"," The Picture in the House", "Facts Concerning the Late Arthur Jermyn and His Family" and "The Call of Cthulhu"

Funny, I seem to notice that I keep on switching between to phases: a reading phase where I literally devour books and a writing phase where I just keep making new material and saving all my cares for its quality when I show it to other people, and that I can't seem to do one when I'm in the other. Or maybe I really am a "Mood Writer", as Chantielle was always so quick to point out in the past. Ahh, the rite/s of writing.

Oh well.

*goes back to playing Splinter Cell and DotA, downloading indie folk and electronica and post-rock and trip-hop, reading webcomics and finishing the rest of his Lovecraft anthology*

Burn(out) Baby Burn(out)

2008-11-08T16:50:00.000+08:00

Still too lazy to go back to school. Still want to enjoy the monotony of a presure-less existence. Still want to procrastinate. Still want to sleep for eleven hours at a time. Still want to go out and drink without worrying what time to wake up the next day. Still ant to enjoy eLBi as a hangout and not as a campus (cue: Take Me Back to Elbi).

Ewan. Burnout.

Whee.

(taken from Inquirer.net)

Trying to beat the school burnout

By Angela V. Ignacio
Philippine Daily Inquirer

Last updated 19:14:00 11/07/2008

NOT too long ago, I was taking an exam when I suddenly found myself staring blankly at the wall. I could hear frantic, frustrated scribbling around me, but I remained motionless, pen poised in the air.

When the proctor chirped, "Five minutes," I was the only one who didn't scream, groan or yell barely disguised expletives. I tried to focus on my exam, but all I could think of was, "Ayoko na."

I calmly handed in my nearly spotless answer sheet and went straight home, not caring that I'd just skipped the rest of my afternoon classes. Classmates kept calling, my family was getting worried, but I just shrugged off their concerned inquiries.

And so I sat in my bed, staring at nothing and caring about nothing, until I finally fell into a deep but troubled sleep.

This wasn't the first time it happened, and a tiny part of me knew something was wrong. Stressed? Definitely. Depressed? Not really, or at least, I didn't think I was. Then it hit me.

"Holy crap, I think I'm burned out."

What it is

Some people have equated it with "being jaded" or "being fed up with the world," but there's so much more to burnout than that. In 1972, American psychoanalyst Dr. Herbert J. Freudenberger coined the term to refer to a subtle, gradual process of becoming physically, mentally and emotionally fatigued in response to prolonged stress.

Burnout reduces your productivity and saps your strength, making you feel increasingly powerless, cynical and resentful. When you're burned out, it's like you're a walking herald of gloom and doom--problems seem insurmountable, everything looks bleak, and it's difficult to muster the energy to care about anything or anyone.

The unhappiness burnout causes eventually affects your academic performance, your relationships, and ultimately, your health.

Burnout can happen to virtually anyone whose job or course demands so much from them, or those who have been shouldering too much responsibility since they were young.

Those in the medical profession are particularly notorious for getting sucked into this "black hole" syndrome. An article from the American Medical Association website cites that in the US, an estimated 400 physicians commit suicide each year. Also, a recent study in the Annals of Internal Medicine journal found that 50% of approximately 2,200 medical students from seven medical schools reported burnout, while 11% said they considered suicide in the past year.

Stress vs. burnout

Contrary to popular belief, burnout isn't the same as stress, although the latter is a major cause of the former.

Stressed-out people tend to be frantic, hyperactive and highly irritable, but still get the job done.

On the other hand, those experiencing burnout feel empty, hopeless and emotionally detached. They usually think, "I'll just do a botched job anyway, so what's the point?" and abandon their work altogether, not caring about the consequences of their (in)action.

The main difference between stress and burnout is the fact that indifference and reduced personal competency are what mark burnout. While stress turns people into water balloons ready to burst at the slightest prick, burnout turns them into prunes, all shriveled up and devoid of motivation.

Four stages

In his popular website, Mark "The Stress Doc" Gorkin lists four stages of burnout:

1. Physical, mental and emotional exhaustion.

After such a hellish semester, you'd think that a few weeks of R&R would be enough to recharge your body batteries for the next term. But how come you still feel so drained and worn out despite the sembreak?

Burnout can occur when you feel so overwhelmed by your workload that you lose your self-confidence and start making more mistakes. You put in more and more effort, but with less and less favorable results. That's why you feel completely exhausted inside and out, even though there's nothing stressing you out at the moment.

2. Shame and doubt.

Once you start losing faith in your own abilities, it's all downhill from there. Never mind that you were the class valedictorian, or the editor-in-chief of your high school paper. You're not feeling confident about the future, and you're feeling pretty lousy in the present, so it comes as no surprise that you start thinking that your past accomplishments don't matter.

3. Cynicism and callousness.

What do snails and turtles do whenever they feel threatened or vulnerable? They hide behind their hard shells, just like burned-out people do. Because you've begun doubting yourself and other people, you put up some heavy defenses to protect yourself. You become cynical, bitter and indifferent, thinking that as long as you're pushing everyone away, no one will notice what a failure you really are. This is when your relationships crumble and your social life goes completely kaput.

4. Failure, helplessness and crisis.

The old saying "Damned if you do, damned if you don't" couldn't be more appropriate. You know you can't quit school, but if you don't, you'll become worse. Either way, you lose. You start thinking, "I've become like this and there's nothing I can do about it." As you sink into hopelessness, your grades and social life go down the drain as well. Before you know it, you've turned into your own worst nightmare.

Climbing back up

One doesn't necessarily pass through all four stages, but more often than not, they all eventually hit rock bottom. It takes a while to recognize burnout, and sometimes, an even longer time to recover from it. It took me a few months, maybe even years, to realize just exactly what I've been suffering from, and I'm downright appalled by how unproductive and uninspired I had become. But now that I know what I'm up against, I can now look for ways to climb out of this hole that I've unknowingly dug myself in. After all, when you've reached the very bottom, there's nowhere else to go but up.

E-mail the author at avignacio@gmail.com.

Burnout-busting tips

Burnout isn't something that happens overnight. Because stress plays a big part in its development, you might want to watch out for the things that subject your mind, body and soul to too much pressure. The earlier you recognize the signs and symptoms and address them, the better chances you have in preventing yourself from going into that downward spiral.

Effective burnout-busting strategies include taking care of yourself emotionally and physically, asking for help when you need it, and staying connected to other people.

Stop, look, listen. While you're usually aware of being under a lot of stress, you don't always notice burnout when it happens. Hopelessness, cynicism, detachment from others and other symptoms of burnout can take months to surface. If people close to you start pointing out changes in your attitude or behavior that are typical of burnout, you might want to listen to them.

Rekindle the fire. Pessimism prevents you from drawing motivation from the things or people that would normally inspire you. It's good to have something on hand to remind you of the reasons you're still doing what you're doing. On your notebook, stick a picture of the new laptop model your dad promised you for Christmas if you get high grades. Or, place a foreign language book beside your bed so you can dream of the trip to Japan that your mom plans to give you as a graduation gift.

Repeat the words "I can do this" over and over until your nose bleeds if you have to—turn your stress into something positive and use it to rekindle your burned-out spirit.

Take a break. If you find yourself spacing out in the middle of doing homework, get up and find something to amuse yourself with. Have a snack, watch TV, or annoy your little brother while he's playing Warcraft. Distraction may not be the best option for some people, especially when they're neck-deep in workload, but it can help clear your mind so you can better focus on the task at hand. Just don't dawdle too long, or else it'll come off as procrastination.

Change course. If, after months or even years of fighting the good fight and still you feel like you're on the losing end, maybe this is just not your battle to win. You know it's time to give up on your dreams when every waking moment is turning into a nightmare. If you don't like the person you're becoming, choose another career path that you feel will make you happier and more relaxed.

Stay connected. Burnout tends to make apathetic loners out of people. The key to overcoming this emotional void is to surround yourself with the people you love and who love you back, instead of pushing them away. Nurturing your relationships with your family and friends can alleviate the feelings of under-appreciation and boost your self-confidence. Make new friends, go out on dates, meet new people—make sure your social network stays up and running.

Seek help. If you think you can't deal with this anymore, it's time to ask for advice. Talking to your guidance counselor, parent or trusted friend can work wonders; don't keep everything bottled up inside, even if you don't feel like sharing. Also, don't be afraid to consult a psychiatrist. Chances are, they'll know how you can deal with your problem effectively, with or without medication.

Nostalgic freshman survey

2008-11-02T07:06:00.000+08:00

Instructions: Think back to your first semester in college. Let's see how much you remember and how much you regret.

What section were you?

BACA block C5

Who were your seatmates?

Jester and Rochi, at least during the convocation.

Still remember your English teacher?
No English class during that sem.

What was your first class?

Philosophy 1 TTh, Humanities 1 MWF.

Best friends?
Chaba, Jester, Yso (known as Thea back then), Louie, Chantielle. Fate has cruelly pulled so many of us apart from each other.

How was your class schedule?

Weird 6-hour break during MW.

Made any enemies?

They're out there.

Who was your favorite teacher/s?

Probably Hidalgo, because she was really wacky, not to mention that she gave me a 1. Too bad she doesn't teach there anymore.

Sport?

Aerobic drinking. Only began swimming during second sem.

Back then, did you always buy your lunch?

No stove at the dorm means I had to.

Were you a party animal?

LB Square phase. Drinking until 3:30 am with an 8 am class was win.

Were you well known in your school?

No idea.

Did you get suspended/expelled?

Heck no.

Can you sing the alma mater?

Of course.

What was your favorite subject?

Probably Humanities 1. Literature subjects are win.

What was your school's full name?

University of the Philippines Los Baños.

Where did you go most often during breaks?

Home. Sleep is fun.

What color of pen do you always use?
Black.

Recited often?

All the time. Geekiness!

Ever cheated?
Nope.

Do you bring your own paper and pen?

Always.

Were you in the top ten of your class/es?

Topped one or two, I think.

Favorite things to do in class?

Sleep in class, write the lecturing teacher's quotable quotes down.

Classmates you didn't like?

Annoyance doesn't linger long enough for an answer to this question to matter. (In short, I forgot)

Subjects with highest grade?

Humanities 2.

Lowest?
History 2. Rasmfrasm 5:30-7.

Ever had a crush? Who?

She-cret.

What's your theme song for him/her?

None.

Which of your classes was he/she in?

One.

Fave events in 1st year?

Probably the first drinking spree with Chantielle.

What are your favorite classrooms?

Probably HB5. Lotsa memories.

Do you sleep in class?

Yep, especially 8 am (Humanities 1), 2:30 pm (Natural Sciences 4) and 5:30 pm (History 2).

Ever thought of burning your school?

Nah. It'd probably burn itself down sooner or later. The building's ancient.

Ever messed with a prof?

Does getting profs drunk to see how weak their livers are count?

What do you miss most from your 1st year?

Not studying for anything, yet getting Laude-worthy grades.

If you could go back in time and do it all over, would you?

Dunno. Timewarp on?

Favorite PE?

Torn between Swimming and Street Jazz.

Where did you spot the hot girls in your school?

All over the place. eLBi win.

Ever gone on a field trip?
None that sem.

Org?

None, but I did work for the school paper for a sem and a half.

Dorm, boarding house or your home?

Dorm. Whee 4Boys.

If you had your way, what was your dream course/major?

This is my dream.

First ever person you knew?

Jester, I think.

First play you ever watched?

Kiko's demo performance during the Comm Arts Orientation, if that counts.

Ever been recruited by a frat or sorority?

They tried.

Is it fun in your school?

Of course.

Ever gone rallying?

Passing by EDSA during EDSA 2 was probably the closest I got.

Did you ever dream of having latin honors for your first sem?

Dreaming.

If you weren't studying in your present school now, where would you go?

Ateneo. Only other school I applied for.

What do you remember most about 1st sem?

A lot of drinking and cussing and writing. Next to no studying.

(Taken from Brian and Peppy)

My turn for a sembreak epiphany

2008-11-01T20:34:00.000+08:00

Sembreak has officially sunk in, mostly due to the lonely feeling of going back to everyday drudgery that comes each time people visit the house. Add to that the fact that we (Karize, Ilia, Charet and I) had to go and spontaneously write a song that has 'I miss eLBi' written all over it. Sure, I don't have as much a right as the graduates to rant about the whole 'I miss the laid-back life in the mountains', but something tells me this last sem will be over before we all know it. Hi thesis, how're ya doin'? Don't say bad words.

Life is currently one big routine of waking up late, going on the Internet and reading and playing my ass off until the wee hours of the morning, with a bit of reading here and there. I feel static. But they say that there is no victory without defeat, no beauty without ugliness, no happiness without sadness. Difference, as Derrida said. Not even a sameness without the idea of difference itself coming in to change everything.

Change. We all thrive on it. See the philosophies of Plato and Kierkegaard, which state that humans really are programmed to not be pleased with the mere finities it understands. This makes us trapped within a vicious existential pit, to forever desire what we may never be able to achieve. This, in turn, fuels our libido, and not only in the sexual sense. Libog, as they say. Passion. The force that drives us to keep striving for things that border (only border, mind you) on the infinite and the unknowable. Thus we are set apart from every other species on this planet (and probably those on other planets, if we are to follow the Fermi paradox). There is no escape from this angst; even saying 'sucks to be human' simply makes you fall into the same paradoxical pit.

So we wallow, the only cure for which is other people's attention, since let's face it: everybody is an attention whore. Cue Locke's 'man is a social animal' which is probably really cliched by now, but what the heck it's true. As heck. Without attention, people simply wither away and die in the midst of wallowing in their own misery. So people turn to more desperate methods, like the Internet and all its time-consuming pseudo-attention outlets (I think I'm looking at you, Plurk. You're even more extreme than Facebook), which make our real lives feel even more worth less. Throw in the amount of miscommunication potential (nonverbals count, after all, for about 93 per cent of our communication), and you've got one big mess of an interpersonal interaction going on.

Nobody needs chat buddies, everybody needs real people to hang out wih, to talk about anything (no matter how disjointed the associations between discussion topics end up) over a cup of coffee (coffee is my hang-out-for-a-long-while-and-talk drink) and a Go Nuts donut or two (Krispy Kreme if you like them better). Sure, staying home and staying 24/7 online is wayyy cheaper. If you want artificial attention, that is.

Trying to write, not coming up with anything new. So, trying to revise old content. Problem is, I stare at the screen and eventually end up reading something else on the Internet (if I'm connected) or playing (if I'm not). Think the problem is that there isn't enough happening with my life. It's a delicate balance, in my opinion: too little happening in your life, and you're stuck imagning things up, and people know how dangerous leaving somebody to rely solely on their solitude's imaginings is. Too much, and you simply do not have enough time to rite. Yes, that was a typo, but a fortunate one. Because writing, I believe, requires the sort of preparation and attention to detail similar to what one undergoes when doing any sort of ritual. Put extremely, we have to be in the so-called 'writing mood' which may not differ that much from the trance people enter when doing a ritual, sacrament, pot session or whatnot.

Stasis is scary. Silence is scary. Because it makes you think things. Things that you don't think of because they're impossible to think of while you're moving and noisy (in short, living your day-to-day life). Things like the future, and how extreme, inexplicable, and at times extremely inexplicable, it is. How, like Neil Gaiman and every other fantasy writer who figured out how to kill a god, it is so much worse to be forgotten than to simply die; to leave this planet without having realized (as in, made real) or passed anything of value on to those of the future. And from this basic anxiety other anxieties rise, culminating in the most superficial of paranoias (paranoiae?), the most basic of which may be the paranoia over the future itself. 'Damnant quod non intelligunt' after all, and what concept out there is less intelligible than the future?

No, love doesn't count. Too complicated (but not untelligible enough) a thing to talk about; just ask every 'It's Complicated' out there in Friendster and Facebook.

Sinfest is an absolute emo-trip at times.

2008-11-01T18:03:00.000+08:00

(Taken from www.sinfest.net)

Awwwwwwww.

Gay quotes to make even the homophobes laugh

2008-10-30T10:19:00.000+08:00

(Got this from Irvin, who got it from somebody else, who got it from somebody else and so on... Rly funny tho)

1. Hindi Man Ako Ka sing Ganda ng Nanay Niyo, Hindi din ako Kasing Seksi ng Ate Niyo, Malay Niyo (Big Male voice) Ako Ang Tatay Niyo.

2. Look-a-like ni Nina:

The woman standing in front of you is the woman who once told you that Love Moves in Mysterious Ways. - Panalo ang Kanta!

3. Kung ang Jeepney driver ay Sweet Lover, ang Taxi Driver Plus P50. Thank you so much!

4. with a slang diction ----- My Name is Tyra Banks from the Land of Liberty and Opportunity the United States of America.

At Naniniwala po ako sa Kasabihan, Na sa Panahon ng Krisis at sa Pataas na pataas na Presyo ng Langis, Ma Swerte and mga Mangkukulam sa Capiz dahil ang Gamit nila ay Walis! Thank you!

5. Ako po ang nag-iisang nagpatibok sa puso ni Sergio Santibanez

ang nag-iisang POLO RAVALES!

PAK!

6. question and answer portion

" may kasabihan po tayo the more we speak the more likely we make mistakes...
so for me not to make a mistake i will not answer your question. I thank you"

7. Aanhin ang isang damo kung wala na si Petrang Kabayo. Aanhin pa ang patimpalak kung walang manonood. Aanhin ang korona kung gawa sa plastic.

Hindi ko hangad ang manalo sa contest na ito. Hangad ko lang makita ko kayo at makita niyo ako. Maipamalas ang aking angking talento at kahusayan sa pag-iisip. Dahil kung wala ako, walang kwenta ang contest na ito. Thank you so so much!

8. Question: IF YOU DIE TOMORROW, WHY NOT NOW?

Answer: BECAUSE TODAY IS NOT TOMORROW BUT IF YOUR IN A HURRY JUST GO AHEAD AND I WILL FOLLOW. THANK YOU VERY MUCH!

9. Question: WHAT DO YOU THINK IS THE BEST PART OF YOUR BODY? WHY?

Answer: THE BEST PART OF MY BODY IS MY NECK... THE NECK HOLDS THE HEAD WHICH WILL WEAR THE CROWN LATER TONIGHT. THANK YOU.

10. Question: IF YOU WERE IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN, WHO WOULD YOU PUNISH? ADAM? EVE? OR THE SERPENT?

Answer: NONE OF THE ABOVE... I WOULD LIKE TO INFORM EVERYBODY THAT I AM CHINESE. I WOULD TEACH ADAM AND EVE NOT TO EAT THE FRUIT. INSTEAD SELL THE FRUIT AND EAT THE SERPENT.

CHEERS TO ALL!!

11. MC: CONTESTANT NUMBER 3. DO YOU BELIEVE THAT MAN CAME FROM APE?

CONTESTANT: (ANG BADET LUMINGON, SABAY GRAB NG MIKE)
YES, I BELIEVE SO, JUST TAKE A LOOK AT CANDIDATE NUMBER 2..

12. "NANINIWALA PO AKO NA HINDI LAHAT NG KABAYO AY NASA KWADRA...MERON DIN PO SA BACK STAGE!!!! AKO PO SI MARIMAR ANG JOWA NI FULGOZO NAG NAGSASABING... KEEP OFF THE GRASS!! BECAUSE... SLIPPERY WHEN WET!! I THANK YOU!!"

13. This one is censored..haha..
Halu! My name is Chin Chun Su O Mei Su Lyna from China.

Standing infront of you is a beauty from the Orient. Im proud to embody let the new blooms of our national flower

MY MY VAGINA FROM CHINA!!!!

14. bago ko lisanin ang maraming sulok ng entabladong ito iiwan ko po ang mga katagang:
wag niyo na po akong tangkaing dayain dahil ang mga lola kong mambabarang ay nasa likod ko lamang(looking at her co candidates at his back)

15. MAY KASABIHAN PO TAYO,

KAHIT GAANO KALALIM ANG DAGAT,,

HANGGANG DIBDIB LANG ITO NG BIBE, THANKYOU!

16. aanhin pa ang bahay na bato kung.......

... KATULONG KA LANG DITO

17. ang babaeng hndi natutumba dating konduktora hehe

18. Host: What is your favorite motto?
> Contestant: (after a long pause) I don't have a motto eh.
> (so the crowd starts helping her out. the crowd started saying, "Time is gold! Time is gold!")
> Contestant: I have na po. Chinese gold

19. "BASTA AKO NANINIWALA SA KASABIHANG ANG TAONG DI MARUNONG LUMINGON, AY WALANG PAMBILI NG SALONPAS!"

First Verses (Play me, I'm a game)

2008-10-25T14:48:00.000+08:00

Step 1: Put your music player on shuffle.

Step 2: Post the first line(s) from the first 30 songs that play, no matter how embarrassing. See which of your friends can name the most songs.

Step 3: Bold/strike out the songs when someone guesses both artist and track correctly.

Step 4: Looking them up on Google or any other search engine is CHEATING! (Srsly)

Step 5: If you like the game post your own.

(Obviously, I can't include the instrumental tracks in the playlist. Darn.)

1. Today is a winding road
Thats taking me to places that I didnt want to go
Today in the blink of an eye
Im holding on to something and I do not know why
I tried

2. You keep your riches and I'll sew my stitches,
You can't make me think like you, mundane
I've got a message for all those who think that they
Can etch his words inside my brain

3. Nandyan ka palagi
Niyayakap ako
Nandyan ka palagi
Hinahagkan ako

4. The seaweed is always greener
In somebody else's lake
You dream about going up there
But that is a big mistake

5. You must've fallen from the sky
You must've shattered on the runway
You brought so many to life
And now you're by yourself

6. Napanood kita kanina sa loob ng TV
Sabi mo “hello” sa akin
Ako ay nabighani
Sabi mo ay babalik ka
Pagkatapos ng commercial
Kay tagal kong naghintay
Muntik na akong magpakamatay

7. I don't wanna lose you,
I don't wanna use you
Just to have somebody by my side
And I don't wanna hate you
I don't wanna take you
But I don't wanna be the one to cry

8. You said you made us in the middle of the afternoon
While we said we're frustrated
But you tried to take us
"Go on, get ready, cause it's coming soon" you said
Well no thanks, we'll make it

9. Finally someone let me out of my cage.
Now time for me is nothing 'cause I'm counting no age.
No, I couldn't be there. No, you shouldn't be scared.
I'm good at repairs and I'm under each snare.
Intangible, bet you didn't think, so I command you to.
Panoramic view, look I'll make it all manageable.
Pick and choose, sit and lose, all you different crews.
Chicks and dudes, who you think is really kicking tunes?

10. Smoking with the homies
That's all he do
Always hanging out
Losing money playing See Low
Every night out at the Go-Go
He don't slap around
But it's in his plan
He gotta be the man
Never show you no respect
He mess with all your friends

11. There's a party at 8:02, don't be late
Hurry up, hurry up, and be ready don't make us wait
I know you know the place, so please don't hesitate
Or waste any time, there you'll find your rhythm

12. When you're on a holiday
You can't find the words to say
All the things that come to you
And I want to feel it too

13. Liar liar,
You're such a great big liar
With the tallest tales
That I have ever heard
Fire fire,
You set my soul on fire
Laughing in the corner
As it burns

14. Check the waves
Crashing down right by the sand
Feel the water go through my empty hands
'Cause today is mine
No troubles in my mind
Out this cynical world, ooh
Out this cynical world

15. Out here we don't hear anything
But the clicking of the rain
Against the leaves
And the way each other breathes

16. Eyes wide open all the time
Just like a drugstore in the city
Where she walks the streets at night
Time keeps ticking, like an ocean through a sieve
Ever onward, ever forward in a march

17. And here we go again
With all the things we said
And not a minute spent
To think that we'd regret
So we just take it back
These words that hold our breath
Forget the things we swore we meant

18. K fyne k kalang
Bantan-on tiguwang dili mahimutang
K fyne k kalang
Kumagko gikubalan dili mahimutang

19. We watched the season
Pull up its own stakes
And catch the last weekend of the last week
Before the gold and the glamour have been replaced
Another sun-soaked season fades away

20. Can you hear me
Hear me screaming
Breaking in the muted skies
This thunder heart
Like bombs beating
Echoing a thousand miles

21. If I kiss you where it's sore
If I kiss you where it's sore
Will you feel better, better, better
Will you feel anything at all

22. Do you remember
When we fell in love
We were so young
And innocent then
Do you remember
How it all began
It just seemed like heaven
So why did it end?

23. Nagtatanong ang isip
Di raw maintindihan
Kung anong nararamdaman
Dapat mong malaman
Sa puso ko'y ikaw lamang
Ang nag iisa

24. Perfect by nature
Icons of self indulgence
Just what we all need
More lies about a world that

25. Baby won't you tell me why
There is sadness in your eyes
I don't wanna say goodbye to you
Love is one big illusion
I should try to forget
But there is something left
In my head

26. These colours will not change
You change the way I see them
These words will fade
Can you explain
Why you hate them
We are the same

27. Really thought that I
Could live without you
Really thought that I
Could make it on my own
Sent you away
Yeah, I said I didn't need you
I let you go, I let you go, I let you go

28. They say I'm different
But they don't understand,
That there's a bigger problem
That's much more in demand
We're got world hunger
Not enough to eat
So there's really no time to be
Tripping on me

29. Earth to Bella
You think you’ve got it all figured in
Earth to Bella
Everything you know is wrong

30. Boys and girls of every age
Wouldn't you like to see something strange?
Come with us and you will see
This, our town of Halloween

(LOL #30 for the timely win)

Have fun. (^_^)

ProjectsPapersPota

2008-10-08T06:20:00.000+08:00

Fatigue. Frustration. Lack of sleep. People whose seemingly sole purpose is to disappoint you. Nausea. Splitting headache. Indigestion. Aching shoulders. Callused feet. Mood swing.

*sings Mika's "Love Today" to self*

Whee-kend Blabbelblah (because I lack the creativity for anything aside from ranting these days)

2008-10-05T09:55:00.001+08:00

Finally, the time to sit down and write for the sake of writing. No time pressure, no requirements (though I have to get down to the idea of doing the Eng 106, Sosc 2, Thea 108 and Coma 193 stuff down soon). A set of poems, a concept paper, an acting journal, an article and a newspaper layout. Despite what I believe are the really wonderful things Sir Gene said about the Communication Arts program, it sometimes annoys me that we're pressured to be good in everything, because to put it frankly, everything's what a BACA student does. Talk about Renaissance.

...

Finally finished with Tao. Everybody raving about it being a fresh take on theater in UPLB, what with all the movement intertwining with facial expressions and violently colorful "Medieval, Victorian, Elizabethan, Tudorian" costumes (cast: an orange chicken, a tiger with furry forearms, a shiny teddy bear, a macho dancer with a mohawk, a punk hooker and a member of the black-neon green parade, among others). Everybody pleased with the idea that every director in the University DOES have their own trademarks for their productions. Body really tired from continuous abuse of Extra Joss, coffee and softdrinks, the latter which I am also now blaming for a chip in one of my molars (TV-commercial child's voice: "CAVITIES!"). Satisfied with myself because I feel I did justice to the two major scenes I danced and acted in. Glad all the drama outside the stage is over (or is it?).

...

Launched the folio last Friday. And as Brian said, maganda nga sya. Go get a copy from any Pantas member for only a hundred bucks (if I remember correctly). Go read Catalina Wanders into the Clouds. Go tell me how I can make it better. Or if you don't want to, just go read it. And the other stories. And maybe get a few autographs from the authors still lurking around in the campus. Because biases aside, trust me, these people are going somewhere someday. Yes, even with seriously screwed-up a name like Jorge Luis Gaiman (Biboy's new pseudonym).

...

Totally fucked up on thesis. Ma'am Bheng's leaving me soon. And in her note I almost misread the line 'a draft of your proposal for a grade of "S"' for 'a draft of your proposal for a grade of "5"'. Whee emotional roller coaster, especially when you remember that I'm only grade-conscious because I want to prove a few things to my parents and myself: to them, that I could have actually shifted to Diliman ASAP, it's just that I CHOSE to study there, and to me, that, what everybody around me has been telling me is true, that I really am a smart kid. I know, I know, I'm a pompous ass. It's just that I've never had the knack for being emotional and stuff, especially when it doesn't involve intellectualizing something. Maybe that's why all my relationships with other people are convoluted and whatnot. Duhnno. Time to stalk the Diliman libraries again this sembreak.

...

I want to learn how to breakdance. From a real teacher, not from watching tutorial videos over the Internet (did this back in high school; it taught me how to handstand) and experimenting with my body (I think I dislocated my right leg thrice this semester). That, and learn how to play the sax. Annoying when you have a shiny sax in your room, but have no idea at all how to play it. Yes, I've tried fiddling with it the way I did with the recorder, piano, drums, bongos and djembe, and it didn't work.

...

They featured the house in PDI again last Wednesday, this time focusing on Mama and Papa's garden renovations. Too bad the online version doesn't have the pictures, it looks really nice in the newspaper. Annoying sometimes that I'm never around when these things happen.

...

I want to finish all the Marquez (No One Writes to the Colonel and other stories), Gaiman (Neverwhere), Borges (Ficciones), Adams (The Long, Dark Tea-Time of the Soul), Lovecraft (The Call of Cthulhu an other stories) and Foucault (Madness and Civilization) books lying around. I want to get the Leader Class Movie Optimus Prime from the Megamall Toy Kingdom because it's p200 cheaper than how much the Greenhills collectors' stores are selling it for, along with the rare Alternator Optimus Prime my bro told me he saw in Greenhills. I want to play Magic (and the money to play it) again. I want a tall glass of iced mocha, a platter of marinara or carbonara, a free afternoon, and somebody to talk to over it and share it with (the pasta and the afternoon only, of course, as the coffee's exclusively mine). I want I want I want.

...

The Dilemma of Double Lives:

When I'm in UPLB, I'm too busy to be doing anything.

When I'm at home, I'm too tired to be doing anything.

And frankly, I don't which one I'd prefer.