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We're good, we're good! I keep switching him and his better brother around 'coz they look so much alike these days. And usually never turns out to be him. Probably too busy cavorting around because it's election time.
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Really simple: life knows what it's doing. I bear all things (most people tell me I bear too much) because I know I just have to stay on course, keep that resolve. But when things work out unfavorably, I don't really spend to much time in regret. I just shrug my shoulders and say, "Hey, I'm young. I'm sure life's got something better in store along the way."
And so far, life never disappoints. -
I never seem to remember my dreams. I read somewhere that if you stay still right after you wake up, there's a better chance of remembering. So when I was younger, I had the luxury of staying in bed just a bit longer, and wondering what the f*ck did I smoke the night before and why the hell was/were he/she/that/it/the dwarves/impromptu staircases/deja vu exams/polygons(yes, I dream about hovering geometric shapes that collide and break apart or fuse together) in my dreams that night.
But now, I've got to get to work by 9, and that barely leaves enough room for good rest and hygiene. So, sorry to disappoint, but no crazy dream details that might clue you in on how pyscho I could be. I'm not. Maybe. -
This is slightly demeaning since I play alto sax in our ensemble in high school. But if pressured to answer I would say: violin.
The first consideration for me is that it doesn't involve using my mouth. It's hard to be expressive when there something attached to your face.
Second, I prefer getting an instrument that allows for solos. Though it's a wonderful feeling to participate in an orchestrated sound, I also like the freedom to carry my own tune.
And lastly, violins sound great to me. Most of my favorite tunes--melodramatic mostly--have violins playing in the background. Plus, I read that violins are the closest instrument resembling the sound of the human voice. Soothing for me, definitely. -
Oh, introspective games! Sound fun! Japanese, too!
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Hands down, Alan Turing, my own personal hero. He lived in an era when homosexuality is repressed--punished severely even--and yet founded the computer systems that now empower each and every detail of our daily lives--as well as my monthly salary.
No other fag I've ever known has made so much contribution to the world yet is so obscured. I love underdogs though, so my bias shows there. -
If you were to ask anyone, I should say I should be the last person asked about this because, really, I have issues about letting go. In which case, I guess, this makes me the most likely to offer insight.
Letting go requires only two tasks: firstly, learning that life goes on; secondly, dealing with the memories.
For those stuck on something in their lives, it's a genuine comfort to know that the Earth is still turning on its axis, babies are still born, and they're still finding ways to make pizza even more awesome. It takes a while to settle in though, especially when so much of your life depends on this particular subject of your most keenest attention. But once you realize, and have made appropriate concessions to the resulting changes, that as humans, we have been built to endure, things get better, and you're halfway there.
The last leg is dealing with the memories. This is the longer task(this being the 80 in the 80-20 rule) in that it is immeasurable and widely varying. People deal differently, but the common thread about most success stories always involves having good friends around, and distancing yourself from added stimuli, tinder to your torment. My only advice here is to never forget, but learn instead to earnestly recall.
~wow that was long, haha~ -
NICE, book referral! Would you say it's a recommended read?
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Not as young as I used to be(duh!) but I don't exactly understand what you mean by someone who's lived "an entire lifetime"?
What does one earn after a lifetime anyway? Love? Wisdom? Respect? Retirement fund?
If it's Love, then yeah, I am in love. Though I would rather believe that this love I've found has yet to yield all its fruits. In that regard, I have not yet lived enough.
If it's Wisdom, maybe not. I'd like to think I'm not wise at all--humbly, like the adage goes. I'd prefer to say: I talk with an expertly manner and authoritative tone that usually convinces most people. In the end, we all have our own opinions, I just articulate mine better.
If it's Respect, nowhere near. I have yet to earn renown. And that Nobel Prize of mine is glibly taunting me with its far-off, silhouette-against-the-horizon gleam.
And if it's a retirement fund, heck no! I'd lovingly gesture towards my bills and say, "One step at a time." -
The objectivist in me would say that my own happiness is a lot more important, since it's my life I'd be wasting to get there. But in practice, I can't help but side with the latter: the happiness of your loved one, if it's true, is another happiness that, with time, is also your own.
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Haha, I'd say it'd be the index finger, that takes on the role of representing whatever thing that one thing is, in gestures of course.
But the one thing--stretching the definition a little bit here--would be something defined by its very uniqueness and singularity.
And in that aspect, I'd say the most unique thing I've ever encountered are people. Every acquaintance shocks me, every handshake with the multitude of commonplace strangeness-es makes me reevaluate my own individuality. People are the spice of the world, and it tastes uniquely nutty. -
Haha, I'd say it'd be the index finger, that takes on the role of representing whatever thing that one thing is, in gestures of course.
But the one thing--stretching the definition a little bit here--would be something defined by its very uniqueness and singularity.
And in that aspect, I'd say the most unique thing I've ever encountered are people. Every acquaintance shocks me, every handshake with the multitude of commonplace strangeness-es makes me reevaluate my own individuality. People are the spice of the world, and it tastes uniquely nutty. -
From sheer unadulterated boredom!
... and a little bit from that side of me who really-really wants to write. There lurks the aleatory and the confounded, and silly plot ideas frolic around and point at each other saying mean things.
Except here in formspring, I don't have to bother with the narrative. I throw you guys into the plot in the form of a question and just let you improvise. It's not as grand as an actual piece of literature, but it sure is entertaining! -
Because of reasons cited here:
http://gelangenie.multiply.com/journal/item/125/as_if_praying
here:
http://gelangenie.multiply.com/journal/item/127/the_best_thing_one_can_do_when_its_raining
and here:
http://gelangenie.multiply.com/journal/item/129/ditto
... But the long and short of it is, sitting in the passenger seat as the midnight lights streak across his features and his eyes look somewhere far off, I am filled with awe. Nothing else feels as right and as exact as this. And I've journeyed to the farthest edges of this love, when it was so painful I wanted to die and when it was so wonderful, I should just die.
It's always been said between us that we fit. I am just surer now because I've seen the worst and yet I love him still. I could bear the worst to love him still. -
I would be charming and youngish-looking, and dangerous with an easy smile. You'd recognize me on the street, a slightly sleep-deprived, fervent commuter you'd see walking along Makati, or maybe Bonifacio Global, even Eastwood on special days, sporting the casual, clean attire of the literate but unpretentious. I would be carrying a heavy bag, and if you look inside there'd be gym shoes, a netbook, and a half-finished novelette(probably still H.G. Wells). I would stride, not just walk, with the kind of purposeful footwork of someone who knows where he's going and doesn't feel the weight of time. I'd probably smile at you, if you look long enough.
As for my name, well, wouldn't it be so much grander if you could hear me say it myself? Or at least, I'd get to barter mine with yours? -
Gengoroh Tagame. Because. Because. Because. Pictures do a better job anyway.
http://www.tagame.org/ -
This is tried question, and it's paired with the tried answer: nothing.
But that would be boring. We don't like boring.
So instead I'll answer: nothing, but it would be nice if he did the things we talked about in private but he's funny enough to say no to, and I love him enough to not care anyway, until the day he picks among those silly little whispered things and surprises me on an auspicious day and I croon, I laugh, and I believe with more gusto that that's love in his eyes and happiness is the invitation of his outstretched hands. -
Micheal, coz my Mom really wanted to give me that name. Though I think my name is a great deal more interesting, it would be nice to experience being the typical guy-next-door Micheal.
But really, I'd prefer to change my name to Isaac-Panganiban ~yikee~ -
Yes! Fate is the perfect scapegoat! Life brings you down? Blame fate! No space at the MRT? Fate's fault! Last bagel at Starbucks is gone? Fate wants you to go on a diet!
It's easier on the guilt really. With all the muck life throws at you, simply parry with fervent faith in a bigger plan. I think they call that Religion. -
There's a mainstream song about it, so definitely there's a very real demand for it. And when there's demand, who are we to deny the public their whims?
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gelangenie’s Bio
What's there to say? I'm just a typical guy: working, eating, sleeping, consistently aleatory and severely aloof.
