The Rain of complaints stirs temptation to hastily grab a hidden key in my pockets which is used to lock my ears from the consisttent jabber. This is how I usually feel. Though, when complaints are expressed in a humorous fashion, my ears widely open to the rising pitch of the outragous description of a particularly stressful situation. I cannot help but to laugh, giggle or make an extreme facial expression distantly on the other side of the phone. Stated negative comments about life envisioned with jumble of a well played vocabulary is entertaining (But ofcourse, only for matters that aren't too extreme). Thank you for always cheering me up at your worst of times.
My tip of the day for my story teller friend:
"Keep your chin up... Oh... Nevermind... Oh wait, you do have a chin. Yeah, try to keep it up."
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Solar Rays Shimmer Back Into the Shadows of Height
A wading moon creeps for its turn. The heavy clouds change color as time turns. The sun recedes into an ocean of shadows. These are just some images I see when walking through the cracks and crevices of downtown Toronto.
Toronto is the location where my character has grown. It shaped my thoughts, influenced my speech and built my temperament. The inconsistency of the moving waves of inhabitants can change daily occurrences in an instant. Though there are times when no words can be said of this roaring city, I can say that I will never regret emerging from this brilliant metropolis.
The chatter of diverse languages and dialects creates a symphony of instruments seeking equality. This melting pot can help one's mind grow but with a slow pace. The populace is colored by variety; this can make a jamboree at a cottage up north seem like the United Nations had a momentous occasion, but with a keg of wonderful not so nourishing beer.
Memories furtively enter my thoughts with each blink. Habituating to the society can cause a consistent carefree contemplation, disregarding human creation. I unknowingly look ahead yet I have an understanding of my surroundings. As the sky grows dim, the stars of metal begin to shine. This is a sight not for the countryside loving folk. The raging comet of contrasting lights overweighs Mother Nature’s beckon of its illuminating supernovas.
Although Toronto does not have all the essentials for my yearning needs, I still have to greatly appreciate its attractive ambience. I still take Toronto for granted, but this I do regret. However, these feelings occur seldomly. I may not live in this city forever, but I will embrace each moment of Toronto life.
Saiko! This is my simplistic definition of Toronto.
Philippines -- Nagpunta ako sa Pilipinas
Philippines. This country, my place of birth, was beautiful when I visited it in 2008 with other family members. I was culture shocked into awe when comparing it to Canada. Yet, during my travels, I grew to enjoy the wondrous events that took place during my stay.
Though the culture was originally derived from an Asian background, it has been ransacked by Western ideology, and has caused most of the city folk to speak English. Movies, dramas and other forms of media have used several English words in a regular manner for the viewer to absorb. When English is joined with the native tongue (Tagalog), I tend to name it Taglish, a common form of speech. For me, it is not the most attractive ways of speaking, but I can comprehend it better than the unharmed Tagalog.
After I had arrived at the airport, one situation had really struck my heart. At a stop light, impoverished children tend to approach your idle vehicle and ask for money. My relatives explained that this is a norm and the children tend to put on a sad facade to lure you to increase the amount you will give. When the money was finally given, the children did not give thanks. They only moved towards the next car with haste before the red lights turned green. I was not upset at this point, but I finally did understand the warnings others had given me prior to the trip.
HIGHLIGHT. I saw my 2 childhood friends when I entered the Philippines. Here’s some background: When I was still prep school worthy (Less than grade 1 in the Philippines), I moved to Canada leaving them behind. As a young child, the promise to always keep in touch with them was difficult. I had created new friends in Canada, where they then took more priority than my previous friends. Pure immaturity can cause others to forget good friends, but the immaturity level was due to my youthful age; not from some preposterous argument where someone had turned into an ignorant foe, forcing themselves to overlook friends due to unreasonable events.
Fortunately, we were all able to gather. Tamerlane a.k.a. Tmur had stayed in the Philippines. Paula moved to New Zealand in the still (hopefully) innocent age of 13, where she then later moved to Sydney, Australia. Prior to my flight back to my motherland, we all had created plans for a reunion. In the end, Paula also returned from whence she came. The meeting occurred. It felt like three strangers gathered into a Starbucks where the infamous pick up line was used “Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” Finally, with realization twinkling in the eyes, conversations were raised, and friendships bloomed once more. Currently, I still continue to speak with them.
Ah… so many other highlights from that trip. Though as time elapsed, the finish line was ever closer to return home. I remember the Typhoon of Boracay (an interestingly wet trip to a beautiful island; also the main picture of the site was from an airline view towards Borocay), Fancy Shmancy Greenbelt (where some parts not even foreigners roamed due to the pricing of items were similar to the stores abroad), ridiculous inexpensive yet delicious cuisine (Like lobster, caught at the ocean side in the morning), and the family members I had once forgotten.
It was a long 3 week trip with many stories to be told. However, I must stop since I grow tired with every letter that is typed. This is “Mendoukusai” [Translation: Troublesome]. Yet, I am still bleeding blood from my hands to add more flavor to this blurb. OK, I’m done.
Though the culture was originally derived from an Asian background, it has been ransacked by Western ideology, and has caused most of the city folk to speak English. Movies, dramas and other forms of media have used several English words in a regular manner for the viewer to absorb. When English is joined with the native tongue (Tagalog), I tend to name it Taglish, a common form of speech. For me, it is not the most attractive ways of speaking, but I can comprehend it better than the unharmed Tagalog.
After I had arrived at the airport, one situation had really struck my heart. At a stop light, impoverished children tend to approach your idle vehicle and ask for money. My relatives explained that this is a norm and the children tend to put on a sad facade to lure you to increase the amount you will give. When the money was finally given, the children did not give thanks. They only moved towards the next car with haste before the red lights turned green. I was not upset at this point, but I finally did understand the warnings others had given me prior to the trip.
HIGHLIGHT. I saw my 2 childhood friends when I entered the Philippines. Here’s some background: When I was still prep school worthy (Less than grade 1 in the Philippines), I moved to Canada leaving them behind. As a young child, the promise to always keep in touch with them was difficult. I had created new friends in Canada, where they then took more priority than my previous friends. Pure immaturity can cause others to forget good friends, but the immaturity level was due to my youthful age; not from some preposterous argument where someone had turned into an ignorant foe, forcing themselves to overlook friends due to unreasonable events.
Fortunately, we were all able to gather. Tamerlane a.k.a. Tmur had stayed in the Philippines. Paula moved to New Zealand in the still (hopefully) innocent age of 13, where she then later moved to Sydney, Australia. Prior to my flight back to my motherland, we all had created plans for a reunion. In the end, Paula also returned from whence she came. The meeting occurred. It felt like three strangers gathered into a Starbucks where the infamous pick up line was used “Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” Finally, with realization twinkling in the eyes, conversations were raised, and friendships bloomed once more. Currently, I still continue to speak with them.
Ah… so many other highlights from that trip. Though as time elapsed, the finish line was ever closer to return home. I remember the Typhoon of Boracay (an interestingly wet trip to a beautiful island; also the main picture of the site was from an airline view towards Borocay), Fancy Shmancy Greenbelt (where some parts not even foreigners roamed due to the pricing of items were similar to the stores abroad), ridiculous inexpensive yet delicious cuisine (Like lobster, caught at the ocean side in the morning), and the family members I had once forgotten.
It was a long 3 week trip with many stories to be told. However, I must stop since I grow tired with every letter that is typed. This is “Mendoukusai” [Translation: Troublesome]. Yet, I am still bleeding blood from my hands to add more flavor to this blurb. OK, I’m done.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
The Last minute friend – Masa wa ore tachi no tomodachi desu yo!
Tall, long haired, and the style of a Rockstar… No, this is not a Missed Connection, this is about my last minute friend, Masa. Last year, he had moved to Toronto and had lived in Toronto for 1 year. Yet, I had only met him last month. My friends and I were able to enjoy nightlife, restaurants, and of course Japanada (A place for conversation and cultural exchange with Japanese foreigners). Masa and my friend Andy had created a close bond once I helped introduce them to each other during Japanada. Unknowingly from the start, their somewhat similar style and fascination with their love of music created a bond, which sometimes I call “Bromance.” Also, my friend and Andy’s girlfriend, Heather, was also in the mix of the outings. Yet, we slowly learned Masa was bound to leave to Japan in a few weeks. This was an awful thought. Finally the day arrived of his farewell. Once he left, I spoke to Andy and Heather at the airport. With uneasiness in the air, Heather had made me realize something: You meet friends from around the world, however that ‘click’ from the sound you hear when a relationship just occurred, can fade away. No problems ever occurred with this fellow. No argument. Only kindness and wonderful crude Japanese terms he would teach us… I appreciated all the awesomeness he shared. I am happy we had met you! We shall visit you in Japan soon.
To you Masa… KAN PAI!
Serenity is found South of the Equator
I finally conquered University. I was at the pinnacle of my education, and my reward was imminent travelling time away from the memories of studious days enclosed in my room. April 2009. Cuba.
To me, Cuba was a vacation away from my institutionalized, over-functioning brain filled with jargon I would use only on the job. What I loved about Cuba was the laid back scenery, the music of salsa and Reggaeton, and the friends who accompanied me on my trip.
Though many parts of the trip were beautiful, some elements didn’t measure up. For one, the food was just…. Was just… not as tasty as I hoped it would be. I realized my palate had set standards. Though the food may not have been delicious, being a famished male lowered my standards to a level similar to the Queen of England eating McDonald’s fast food, a level of the food tasting wonderfully unhealthy but with an arousing fatty substance. I then had a thought: communist countries should really learn their lesson in the culinary department.
The employees had a cheerful look on their faces, but that is something I cannot say about other travelers… The rudeness I had witnessed from some.... agh.... nevermind.
Yet, in the end, I believe it was a trip to remember. It was short and sweet, with trickling bitter spices embedded into the mix.
To me, Cuba was a vacation away from my institutionalized, over-functioning brain filled with jargon I would use only on the job. What I loved about Cuba was the laid back scenery, the music of salsa and Reggaeton, and the friends who accompanied me on my trip.
Though many parts of the trip were beautiful, some elements didn’t measure up. For one, the food was just…. Was just… not as tasty as I hoped it would be. I realized my palate had set standards. Though the food may not have been delicious, being a famished male lowered my standards to a level similar to the Queen of England eating McDonald’s fast food, a level of the food tasting wonderfully unhealthy but with an arousing fatty substance. I then had a thought: communist countries should really learn their lesson in the culinary department.
The employees had a cheerful look on their faces, but that is something I cannot say about other travelers… The rudeness I had witnessed from some.... agh.... nevermind.
Yet, in the end, I believe it was a trip to remember. It was short and sweet, with trickling bitter spices embedded into the mix.
I have come to terms... I am an Otaku.
Watashi wa Otaku desu kedo, chotto desu.
Otaku. I learned this term last year from an old friend. She told me, Otaku are people who have excessive yearnings for anime culture and would succumb to cosplaying (Disguising yourself as an anime character). Though there are a variety of Otaku's within this world, I believe I am an Anime Otaku. I thought it was a ridiculous thought at one point, yet my thirst for anime seemed to have grown in the past year. I quenched for more. Motto motto! [Translation: More, more!]. Finally, this year... I cracked. I cosplayed for the first time. When the costume I had worn was complete, I realized I was no longer part of Canadian society... Any society in this world... I belonged to the Konoha Village! This is a place where ninja's roamed, ninjutsu's were the norm, and jumping from one roof to another was effortless due to the chakra running through your veins. Within this village my best friend would have been Naruto, where his teacher, Kakashi, would advise me on how to improve my justu. [Note: The Picture is Me and Kakashi] Such a dream can only exist around other Otaku's... Well I guess it's back to building that space portal. When I make that 4th dimensional gate, I will be with my Konoha brethren soon enough!
Monday, August 3, 2009
Hashin de "not so fully complete happiness" o tabemashta!
Googling through the internet while craving sushi during a late night can cause people to find the strangest creations. I found this wonderful and astounding concoction of a delightful sushi/sashimi mix… a shoal of fish… with edemame…. Sprinkled with caviar… and other random sushi ingredients… If you are ready to be shocked into a state of hunger, behold… The Sushi Wedding Cake!
This is just simply wonderful... It was worth all the needed ellipsis in the intro. Whoever created this was pure genius and an artisan of Japanese cuisine (to my eyes anyways). To satisfy my hunger, my friend and I went to an All You Can Eat (AYCE) sushi buffet. I was at my limit at the end of that feast. Onaka ga ippai (Translation: My stomach is full). Though it was nice to dig into replenishing Japanese AYCE, it is different from the idea of using your chopsticks to dig into that watering mounting of happiness. I guess today’s meal will have to suffice.
Time to wobble to the next post…
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