DOEY.

I have a slight inclination towards men who exude
intelligence. Which is sexy. Who has this appeal of maturity.
Like Liam. His face carries a lot of experience that automatically assumes authority on anything.
Liam Neeson. Liam Neeson.

I had a long talk with this guy friend. We became so intellectually charged all through out the discussion, maybe secretly impressing each others' thoughts on divinity and mysticism, masochism and atheism. All things that can be discussed in 10 philosophy classes.

He asked all the right questions. He was so smart and he doesn't feel normally which makes him so brutally honest with his thoughts.I appreciated that thought.

I won't forget his desire to be with a girl smarter than him.
Which made me think, what if I meet a guy smarter than me? Will it satisfy whatever inquiries I have with the world?

We talked on the boulevard of broken dreams, as he calls it. Because he said the lamp posts on the street emit an ambiance that can be normally seen in a dream.I admire him so much.

He is different. So different from men I've met.

He said, "what are you trying to achieve?"
I said, elegance and refinement.
He said this comes with age.

I thanked him for his brilliance and a secret approval of my principle.

this breath is ours.

Breath taking. It cannot be more dramatic.
No acquiescence to fear or disaster.
jeff buckley lives.

I only ask for us to break into this world
together.
To understand. Delve deeply.
See each others' shining eyes
against the moonlight.

Not All The Same Sort

Imagine, the world doesn't just cater to one kind of person. Even the continents are differently shaped, expect the people living in them to be more strangely different. Even in families, genes are twisted to create more complex people, to have diverse personalities. What a boring world it will be if we are just of the same sort, wouldn't it?

We are a strange bunch, strands of a multi-textured world we call life, all with different purposes. But all end with a knot to ties us all together.

There is a camlness in me that I cannot explain. Maybe a calmness that came with a pure heart. It is so precious to accumulate this camlness for it is your shield against the world of chaos. When your heart is pure, nobody can move you from the pressures of vexing people. It is a treasure one must learn how to acquire. Instincts are your enemies and can be your most trusted friends.

The world has seen people of different colors, and must have kaleidoscopic kinds of views. But one cannot lose his identity, experiences, strengthens one's personality from conception to death.

Aastah~

When the sun rises, a day is born
When the sun sets, a day will die.

Cut out the bullshit. We are spirits that roam the earth, we must learn how to soar above our mistakes and move on. The nicest thing about life is it polishes you to be golden, and sparkling. You are a vessel of wisdom. A tank full of memories. The only safe place there is.

A Burst of Fucked Up Paranoia

A gust of wind far down below

A mist of tears from hellish snow

A thought submerged into hotter stones

Flesh is sin to those who know

The bang of the drums deafened you

The shit fell off of your broken roof

An army of devils ensnared the dew

Innocent as kids, as fresh as truths.

Ladies, men, they come and go

You need new people to throw

Amazing sins created for

Crooked ways to harsher course

Believe your mother as long as you can

Guards up, always defend

And never rely on suspicious men

Don’t kiss cheeks with gambling women

The world is unchanged, you never win

You witness the killing of your precious kin

Your shadows show a soul so thin

You live to see the dying wind

Mistake not my dearest friends,

The world deceives to far out ends

People likes fire to set

To weaker souls until its death

I cannot see through broken glass

I can’t help the problematic mass

My thoughts evil as they come to mash

It is true fucked up paranoia trash.

Thanks Bob Dylan

Man, you so great. Imma git maself one o'them grit albums o' yours.
ima kid from the projects nd I git te listen to music like lil wayne,
or them new peeps from dubstep, dancing crazy.
But when i heard ma momma playing somein "like a rolling stone" on us cd player,
i get maself hooked to yous music. ill buy a branded cd or maybe a karaoke type of vcd
like she likes from em filipinos who sing all crooked all the time.

what you call em wind instruments, an harmonica?
u use em to make good music, i like that.
ma momma like it, she dance with my dad all the time.
Bob Dylan make er happy y'know.

My momma like that.
Imma give er sometin tomorrow.
While she bakin' them sweet corn bread.
Imma git er. I know I will.
Bob Dylan cant be dead. I won't let im be.

Teenage stuff you won't talk about

Hahaha.


I'm going to write about teenage things. 


   You are frantically searching for a mate. Your hormones so strong that it forces you to look at the opposite sex (or in some other case, the same sex) in a way that suggests that you should get a move towards them. In high school life, you never thought that you'd get a first kiss, a hug from a guy or a girl, cause you think you're ugly, fat, not big enough racks, not interesting enough and whatnot. You prolly even thought of asking that girl out, in my case, waiting for them to ask me out.

But never did. My pigtails are not that sweet enough to get that guy's attention. ( I had pigtails in my senior highschool year.)

   I only observed, that the less i dated in high school, the better my relationships are in college. Learning how to suffocate yourself with your own idea of being inlove teaches you the combat skills that an every frustrated girl will do, in case of an encounter with your CRUSH! Admit it folks, you looked in the mirror, practiced those looks, those seductive-with-an-attitude-i'm-oh-my-god-mysterious-enough-for-you looks, right?It kept you going didn't it?

Sexy.


    It is kinda peculiar/weird/non-conformist, that I'm thinking of one person while writing this. I never personally had a talk with him, just meeting him in the later years of my college life, a passerby in my view, with that long hair he is sporting. How would it be if I had a friend like him in high school? Just how fucking awesome could that be?

   Wow, how proud can we be, we cant even be friends? We can't man up and say, "you are interesting!" Because dears, society don't accept that, you gotta go through the whole hoolah of introducing yourself with numbers, (age, bf/gf relationships, money, height etc) or introducing yourself with the most clothed version of you, because you are afraid. Because I am afraid. That somehow, my clothes and the way I talk maybe can fool that potential friend I have infront of me.

   Well, by the way, that's how I think about high school. I over thought about the whole thing it looks less innocent. 


High school was supposed to be innocent! But damn, don't deny that your actions have underlying emotional urges, right? 

1. You acted shit because you saw that the girl you wanted dated someone else. And a douchebag one at that.
     a. Like stuttering words out incoherently.

2. You gave her a letter. And you continue the story. You never hit on her.

3. You acted like a real friend! Hahahaha. Loser! (yew jaz gott friendzoned!)

4. This girl you wanted was so beautiful everyday, you're frustrated, you can't tell anyone, you tell them when you guys are in college, where everything's damned too late.

5. You're simply smart. You have evaluated all the girls you ever liked, and the one that stood out is the girl who's got brains but pretty awesome too. That's why the girls you liked are simply brilliant girsl as well, in their own right.  Do you wanna know why I know? Cause people like you read blogs. And I'm that kind of person too.

   Teenage stuff ain't so stupid after all huh? You were just actually minimizing the risks of falling in love and getting hurt at the same time after all those years of not having a romantic relatioship with someone. Teenage stuff so cheesy.

A Jeff Buckley Note

-- this is fictitious. A frustration. 

Short clips from a young legend.

          Sweaty, looking forward to lighting yet another cigarette. He thinks, then slowly reaches for the glass of water that was sweaty too. He thought for quite a while, that the words that came with melodies are just easy as people think the opposite. The towel that was on his neck slowly felt heavy as he noticed the over- all heat of the city. It was just another cigarette from a physical point of view, but below the smoke and the easy drift of the hazy light, another song was forming inside the mind of Jeff Buckley.

                Sin-E was his great relief from all those sad relationships he wished he never had to think about. But who the hell said it was bad things that make people insanely good at something like music? Jeff thinks, he also had good things, good things he repeats in his mind, then no need to get over that to extract a song. It’s something so exclusively his, his talent, his great brain, to produce those things for him. Flashes of memories appear as he slowly walk the pavement to Sin-E. The bar that let him sing his heart out, for New York was a place that accepts non-mainstream music as well kept secrets, then locals will savour the deliciously authentic strumming of the non-commercialized music we all call pure. The waitress wore pants today, and Jeff saw an outline of what seems to be red underwear. Carmina, the waitress did it on purpose, for a man like Jeff that red underwear underneath her slim fit pants couldn’t be resisted. She thinks, 2 more hours and we’re out. Never knowing his intentions. What a sad life to go after that guy on stage who seemed to more interested more on his music than this girl who’s willing to show what she’s all about.

                She saw him lick his lips, immediately thinking that intimate gesture was for her. Strongly refusing that it was just cold water that made Jeff Buckley seem so unusually sensual.

She doesn't know him at all. Oh, she didn't know.

 Under this cave, is the most spectacular chilling darkness I have ever seen. This is why we came to Palawan, to see the majestic underground river everybody wants to see. With that tiny light to guide us, and a funny boatman, we managed to have this boat ride under the harmonic stalactites and stalagmites that seem to live forever together.

 A picture of mine with that stick.
Whenever I go somewhere, I'll pick something up.
The wood on my hand feels great.

Imagine these cool blue waters, and you get to touch them!
How great is that to be a part of this divine creation?
Be one with the water, with the sand. With the quietness of it all.

This part in Palawan, is called the LuLi Island. (Lulubog, Lilitaw)
Undoubtedly, in my mind, this is the best part of the whole trip for me.
No people but us on the whole island, no noisy tourists, no sloppy student trips.

It's just a few friendly people. My family. And the whole blue water for me to dive in.

First, a seemingly simple and short introduction of myself.

  It's quiet down here. In a hole, in the middle of TV time. I'm 19 and a girl, who kind of just realized that writing is the best way to waste my time on. And I get the habit of thanking people who gives a shit about what I write. I try not to be that everyday person kind of writer. I try to be a little above that. Just trying to prove to myself that all these years of losing myself in a natural way only leads me to the best parts of life. Writing, living through the eyes of those who can see in multi color. 

      I am Jahnina. Practically named that way cause my parents think that a 7 letter name must be consistent with the names of my siblings, Justine and Jullian. Oh no, I must arrange that right. that's Justine, Jahnina and Jullian. We all have this second name, Joselle. So, we are all entitled to being called "JJ" at some point in our lives. I guess that must be true right ate and jullian? 

    How interesting it is to see that no matter how I wake up in the morning, I'll always look for that sweet taste of tea on my tongue. I think I got that from Trev. (who is my boyfriend) Tea and sweet stuff in the morning gets me going. That tea lingers in my mind though my head aches because of my consistently abnormal sleeping positions. Catch me sleeping, and you'll see my feet up against the wall. Or I will be lying down horizontally. God, I love to just stretch out and be weird subconsciously. I think my brother and I do the same thing. See, in our dreams we are in the same Yoga class. 

   I imagine that those closest to me, will yet again, be in the mood to read these things. I hope I can deliver better insights on things. Be more intelligent. More inclined to learning more about people. Be self-less. After all, I see myself writing for the rest of my life. Starting now might be one of the greatest decisions I have made. And I'm deeply looking forward to being a companion on a lonely night. A nice cup of tea with my words on your eyes.