Mixtape Mob

At one point, which is this point, I have absolutely no time to blog misunderstandable words and pornographic sensual seduction shizznit. I have lots of things going in my life. So if you are looking for other materials to read, you can check out other blogs on my "They Fly Too" section. You will also find them good to read and that's fo'shizzo.

At one point, directions come and will suddenly change. That's why I'm planning to change some things, just certain things. Include the blog, the b'ness, the street, the sound, the mentality, the ME. Lord, gimme this one time really good.

Just for the record... I love my chica. ;)

NP: History In The Making Mixtape Vol. 1 by TSH

Downtown Saturday Night Dead

Four words fit for a title. Four words to describe of that's what's up. I'm supposed to go this gig at Dayo Bar (hey, nice ad e?!) but clique got no bread. And I'm stucked in this computer doing nothing but to type and play electronica and hip hop in full volume. Too much metal is not that soothing in a night after our garage/outside kitchen got flooded with rain and cockroaches. I cleaned the obvious mess it brought and I felt like Jesus on His way to Golgotha. I do not easily get tired and I know that but this night's different.

As I've said, I'm supposed to go this gig. Primary reason being her. And the new her. Not the old one. The old she is a part of a past that I can't get back. We could've been playing Windstruck and My Sassy Girl fifty times a day just to memorize their lines and dreaming we could've been them but no. A big hell no. Done.

Back to the new one, I love her like a fat kid loves cake. That simple. But my Saturday was shot in his face, now dead. I miss her, I love her. Yun lang.

I'm having a blast. Irony.

Karagatan: Into Another Dimension

In a hot afternoon like what transpired earlier, I never thought that it would rain and hard. And she would carry lightnings on mute and flash blackouts for the household. BOY! We are currently experiencing super sudden climate change. But I wouldn't want to experience Armageddon in the next years or something until I die because of a plane crash. Because if you would die because of a f*cked up Armageddon, nobody would mourn on you on your wake, nobody would care because nobody is alive. That's what's up and that's what's worst.

Now I'm being selfish but hey, do you want to die along with the rest of men because of total planet destruction? It's like the Earth's core is a living atomic bomb, waiting for somewhat minutes to detonate Earth as a whole. And now I realize I'm very far from what I what should tell... okay... so uhmm... I'm no scientist or genius to say this but... uhmm... I just wanted to say, "Hello and Have a nice day!"

Obviously, I have nothing to say but when I made a point about this Earth thing earlier. It's dead serious for me and the ocean. If we should act, we should act now. Peace.

----

Aside from MaydayPilot, I'm also writing for a new music thing that I would really want to happen soon. And I'm pretty much fixing things on a new band. Aside from that, I'm also fixing things on DipsoNation, the clothing line I am establishing because it's coming really soon! Got a lot of work to do in so little time. Do pray for my body not to collapse the same way you pray for dear Mother Earth not to collapse.

SMILE! It'll make a life worth living. :)

Three To Salsa, Dogs To Grow

An interruption from the usual program. A brake on the cars gone green. A coffee break and a cigarette pack waiting for its casual turn and time to shine. But in a short time, I was never given the chance to shine. I could've been doing some stretches for my lungs but my mouth is down for its rest. In one simple line, I couldn't talk.

I will save my one-liner and her bestfriend will never chain his mouth and live on a library. There were three of us who have just concluded that there was nothing left to do but settle a good talk and a good laugh. In an instant, we went to that certain place where dogs outnumbered men. We sat down and started on talking, laughing, hitting pause, hitting play and hitting repeat. Not really noticing how the clocks ran fast that time, we just continued. Until that very moment when I felt my nerves calling the attention of my senses. Until that very moment when I heard my veins pumping blood to my tongue. Until that very moment when the words just lingered in my mouth like lambchops, hard to spit and easy to swallow. How delicious it would be only that it was plain. Too plain that the distinct flavor were simply lost in space. Back to subject, that moment made me realize that in one simple line, I couldn't talk.

If this was literature, he was a writer of a novel and I was a writer of lines, not even sentences, just lines. I would tell both of them one good experience of mine and he would tell a bunch of stories related to the one I just told. And in respect she and I will listen, laugh, pause and let him continue. And come my turn for five seconds, and his turn for uhmm minutes with not a second to waste. Dogs bark aloud. Hit pause. Hit play. Hit repeat. The point is that when I felt that certain urge or gut feeling to tell "things" to her was when I felt that in one simple line, I couldn't talk.

Fear Of Flying Pt. 1: Interlude

Setting: Aerial space. In Psyche's search, she connected two things with one another: air and love. She always wanted to fly like Cupid. She always wanted to shoot arrows. She was always my inspiration. I wanted to fly. I wanted to shoot arrows. I was never her inspiration.

----

"She was always..."
...since the day I met her and woke up with the real sense of a woman. A real woman. Perhaps, a goddess from a name-all-nation-you-can mythology. And Mayday Pilot, MP as initials, were her initials too. So that, I think, explains everything, I guess. Ask me her name. I "might" be nice to tell. :)

Basically, I did this blog not to tell stories of a pilot and let other people think deep. To me, it is where I express most of my feelings aside from doing other things with a necessary output like for instance, babies. :) Joke lang po. But I hope that one day, I can pull off something visible or audible for this one. Because in a sense, I honestly use a lot of names for my alter-egos (one is Mayday Pilot) and I hope that I can mix some of my alter-egos with Mayday Pilot and not just the aerial blurbs, sky-high personifications, and cloudy reflections as a subject.


Flying high:

JR / Jiyar Swann / Mayday Pilot

~here is the explanation. Enjoy the interlude

Streets Run For Air: Chapter 3

Check. We are on our plight. What's that light? Must have been the sun seeping into my eyes. And now I slowly realize, it was our dear morning, it was the sun over bloodshot eyes. East over the board, I took the last of my pack. And lit the last of my gas. And took a hold of my remote taking dose on my nose from coast to coast. Let's toast: early morning gin as my mouthwash. This is not another carwash. My mind has a chatroom, a rapper and a psychedelia on its own.

Check. What I thought as chivalry was just a safe-play tactic. And my mind points out to nothing, resorting to its distortion, complete deterioration. But I am the king of the new knight, of the new street, of the New Jerusalem. Making it a point... of the New Jeru. That's that one name I would want to call my own place. Three days past, destruction. Today, rebuild. I play Jesus on wax because after of which I am my own DJ. And Puff Daddy was right... it was all about the Benjamins.

Check the streets. Leading to another street. To another one which will take us back to the first. And then makes connections through junctions. And will soon pave way to a one-way road, a bridge, an investor, a building, another building and a city. All these and that plus the reactants in three days. No, count me in years or infinity. I will never play Jesus, He was and is the Only One together with His colleagues on the Trinity.

Check. We are on our plight? What's that light? Must have been the neons. Catching up the eons. There was air if only you would hear me. I will travel, I will fly and let the beat unravel.

A Sudden Stop's A Drop Of The Bomb: Chapter 2

Of all the places I have been to, she is my love in question marks and she was my love in exclamation points. For nights, I've been looking from my window. And that window was the primary reason I made this room. The view: my god, is she the prettiest thing I ever saw. More like a goddess, more like the next best thing after cigarettes were invented. And then I saw the first set of green clouds, that awesome mix of vintage and olive. I was on hemp. And black.

The last thing I remembered were those green clouds and black. A shot on my back: I felt that pain. Or was it just a kiss I've been longing for then sends me unconsciously to heaven and back?

And then I woke up from this, must I say, deep sleep. Pause. No, it's not a deep sleep. It was only a minute past after I saw those green clouds. But then I look into the skies and lines began going down my face. There were no green clouds left to cheer me up. Then I realize it was a deep sleep. One month, eleven days, a few hours and minutes and seconds. It was a deep sleep. Deep into six, she was carried away and buried, as what others would say, into the waves brought down by Napalm. All that time, I'm unconsciously awake in heaven and back. I was on hemp. And black.

In any time now, as I realize the effects of Napalm on a sophisticated piece of flesh, I will fly once again.

Would There Be Green Clouds?

Green clouds where I can travel. Green clouds where I can fly. Green clouds that will pass me on to another green cloud. Because I only see it's pink hue over a setting sun over the dark sky. Is it telling my precognitions that I will pass a storm? Or will the moment just fade out?

A minute pass to this paragraph, I took another glance to the sky over a silhoutte of structures and trees. Darker and darker it gets, I turn my lights on and I know, I'm three inches away from leaving. I had a cigarette she hated to relax me off. Forgive me but I'm going to miss this in the next uhm hours I'll be flying.

And the sky pitch dark. Never there were green clouds where I can travel. Never there were green clouds where I can fly. Never there were green clouds that will pass me on to another green cloud which were never there. But even if there were no green clouds, I know I'll see a greener scenery from a bird's eye view. A mix of vintage and olive.

----

Too much for the expressions... her color is green.

Pure Blank

This happened before. I just don't know when but this situation happened before. And it did, many times now.

Just one word and you kill the conversation. A sure word that'll come out of your mouth instantly. Like machines were programmed in your lips whenever you hear me say good things about you in which I don't know if you simply do not believe it or you cannot because it's too overwhelming in your part. With that one word, it left me in blank. Just the purity of a blank made me take a quick look in my dictionary only to find two letters repeated three to four times- hahahaha. Along came a rush of blood to the head. I need to ask a question or something as to not kill the conversation. And the cycle began once again until pure blank. End.

The baggage I carried got rejected. But it's the way she rejects me that made me fall for her deeper and deeper, though I should be "flying". Like what my tagline, which came from a wonderful song, says: "...this teeth won't let you go". Not to mention its title which I can relate for real at this time. She just makes them dirty words sound pretty even without the violins.

Ang Laban

Alam mo ba yung pakiramdam na tinalikuran mo na ang nakaraang akala mong bubuo sa pagkatao mo pero walang nagyari? At tapos umalis ka na sa landas niya para hindi na makasagabal pa sa buhay na meron siya. Kaya naghanap ka ng iba. Ibang tao na bubuo sa pagkatao mo. At sa pagkakataong nagiging maayos na ang lahat sa panibago ay babalik ang nakaraan sa hindi malamang dahilan. At sa kung ano pa mang dahilan meron ang nakaraan ay minimithi mong sana iyon na ang ninanais mo noong dati pa, ang kanyang pagmamahal. Hindi bilang kapalit ng pagmamahal mo sa kanya kung di dahil mahal na niya rin ikaw.

Minimithi. Tinatangis. Minamahal.
Ang nakaraan o ang panibago?

----

Hanggang ngayon, hindi ko pa din alam ang gusto ng puso ko. At sana pag nakita ko na iyon, hindi na ko muling masaktan pa.

Sa nakaraang alam mo kung sino ang sarili mo, alam mong minahal at mahal pa rin kita. Hindi ko na nga lang masabi dahil inaamin ko malayo na ako sa iyo at sa tingin ko ay napalayo na rin ikaw sa akin. Kung may pagkakataon man ay sana malasing na ako ng hindi ka nalalasing at masabi sa iyo iyon ulit ng hindi bumabagsak ang eroplanong pinapalipad ng piloto.

Sa panibagong hindi ko alam kung alam mo kung sino ang sarili mo, aaminin kong nasa parte pa lang ako na nagustuhan kita... sa hindi malamang dahilan. Pero pangako, hindi ka isang panakip butas.