Sa Ilalim ng Pulang Bubong

Goodbye!

2005-10-10T11:27:00.000+08:00

My parents have discovered my blog. So, 'til I make a new one, it's goodbye. It simply can't be a personal online journal to me with my knowing that my parents can read my entries.

One, I can't be completely honest coz I can't curse if I when I'm angry, complain when I'm annoyed, mope when I'm sad or lonely or depressed. Especially if it's because of them that I feel that way. Don't get me wrong though, my parents and I get along great. But hey, it happens.

Two, it's embarassing. That's pretty much self-explanatory. Can't talk about the women in my life openly knowing that my mom can tease about it anytime. Can't talk about accidents and other embarassing episodes. Can't... Well, there's plenty.

Three, some secrets are meant to be known. But I'd rather if my parents never learned mine. It gives me a deep sense of security knowing that I can't possibly get in trouble for something nobody was supposed to know in the first place. Plus, I like keeping secrets. It's a form of celebrating the soul's honesty--for in keeping secrets, you realize the wrong that your mind is capable of and discover a conscience that shames of it; you revel in the mischief of knowing something nobody else knows; and you come face to face with the truth and get a one-on-one lecture on how the truth can affect a change that you could either want or avoid, but (you know) is gonna happen anyway sooner or later in your life. It's torture. But it's a good kind of torture because you get to think about things before actually letting them take effect in your everyday life. So, I guess that's how my life's gonna be for a while--a secret. To my friends, ciao for now. You know where to contact me. And to those who don't, just send me an email by clicking the link on the sidebar.

Goodbye :)

What I Need Is What I Can't Reach

2005-09-29T02:38:00.000+08:00

taken from postsecret.blogspot.com

The Past Month & A Half

2005-09-22T10:36:00.000+08:00

I've been so friggin depressed. I feel like I'm getting older. There's this whole burden resting on my nape and I feel like my neck is gonna give way. The weight of the world is resting on me and I'm beginning to tire. I feel like I'm at a point in my young life wherein I am not in any position to help myself. And so I dedicate my mind and strength to achieving bigger things. But can't help but feel all this doesn't mean a thing.

Kahapon

2005-08-03T00:33:00.000+08:00

I used to pride myself in having an abnormally patient temper. I almost got into two fights yesterday for the most petty things. So I guess I don't anymore. It was so bad I had to do origami to calm me down. ORIGAMI! For goodness sake...ORIGAMI! Putangina. Bahala na.

I lost my license

2005-07-27T09:37:00.000+08:00

I lost my license. Been driving to school and back and all over the Metro for three days now without it. I'm such a dumbass. Naha-hassle tuloy ako. I've come to realize that losing a license is worse than losing a cell phone. I've lost my cell phone twice and both times I felt I was disconnected from the rest of civilization. I still feel part of the world now, but I feel like the world doesn't like me very much. I'm always afraid of getting caught on the highway or of getting bumped or bumping someone coz if I do, I'd get arrested. Putangina. I've gotta get a new one FAST.

Tao Lamang

2005-07-26T14:01:00.000+08:00

Life is a ride. This is the tenth week of school and the workload is becoming increasingly heavy by the day. Moreover, my personal life hasn't been its best. It's frustrating that picking between certain aspects of my life has been a constant chore due to the fact that it has to be one or the other with most things. I want a life, but I remain undecided because I am burdened by the task of choosing which area I would want to prioritize. I am divided by my responsibilities as a student as well as by my constant desire to remain afloat. I need a buoyant structure for I am seaweed with no driftwood; a barnacle with no ship to cling on to. I remain steadfast in my faith in God, yet I remain handicap because I play in "life-pusoy dos"; meaning, God deals the cards, but it remains my responsibility to play them at my best. As the saying goes: "Nasa Diyos ang awa, nasa tao ang gawa." Paano na kung hindi ko na kayang gumalaw? Kapag wala na akong magawa kundi kumapit?

Waking Life

2005-07-10T07:49:00.000+08:00

I've got too many personal philosphies it's almost impossible to pinpoint the contradictions.

I want a moustache. But I shave my face everyday.

The country is in shambles because politicians have grown so fond and accustomed to lying. Apparently, so have I.

I want to have a deeper sense of faith, but I can't because I've become too busy to learn about my God.

I hate Sky Cable because they jumbled up the channel sequence, but I love it because they brought back UFC on Solar.

"To do is to be." --Descartes
"To be is to do." --Voltaire
"Do be do be do." --Frank Sinatra

On Being Single

2005-06-21T14:14:00.000+08:00

Being single is definitely one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to be. Several times in my lifetime I’ve come close to actually being with a girl but it never really lasts too long and in a second, it’s gone as soon as it came. I’ve been through all sorts of shit, but most times I’m just in a lukewarm state of mind: not hot enough to be worth exciting myself with, yet not cold enough to freeze. There’s nowhere to go. I’m in between, in limbo, up in the air, on ice, on the grill for 5 hours yet still uncooked. I’m single and I really must admit there’s no easy way to get used to this.

There’s no one to talk to at night, no one to bother myself with, and everyday is just as dull as the next. On good days, there’s always my friends to hang around with (and that’s cool, unless you study in Laguna and there’s absolutely nothing to do and you just end up talking about more or less the same things everyday...or getting drunk), or on really good days, there’s a soccer game to preoccupy myself with, maybe an occasional “out-of-town” gimmick (Makati/ Katipunan/ Libis—How sad is that?), or a cold beer waiting for me in the freezer (and that’s cool too, until the beer gets warm and I have to go through the tedious hassle of standing up just to get a glass and some ice). But on most days, there's nothing. The most depressing thing about being single is receiving a text message and finding out it’s of no value to me at all, or wanting to see a film, but there’s no one I really want to go watch the movie with, so I watch alone. It’s a constant struggle to keep cool because I’m always trying to keep my sentiments to myself, to keep myself from coming off as being remotely pathetic, and lately I’ve just been wanting to shout out and be vulnerable for this one time and cry out that I’m completely useless without a woman to bother myself with. I saw this one movie of Steve Martin’s once when I was a kid and I swore to myself that was the one guy I didn’t ever want to be: The Lonely Guy. And I’m finding out that that’s exactly what I’ve come to be—lonely.

Although, I am trying to get myself out of this singleness, however disillusioned I may seem to you, but it seems I’ve been with so many women in whom I’ve seen so many of the qualities I want to find in the lady/ladies I want to someday be with that my standards have gone up so high that every woman just seems to disappoint. In Alfie, Jude Law critiques a marble statue of Aphrodite he saw in a museum: gorgeous from a distance, but up close, riddled with tiny cracks—“damaged.” Myself quoting Alfie is not to say that every woman is “damaged,” but since I’ve only been able to see the good in a woman in the past thus landing me in a pretty painful disposition every time, I’m thinking I should look for the bad things instead if only to keep myself from getting hurt. Again, that is not to say that I’m the best guy in the world; that I’m too good for any woman; too great to be fragile; but I do believe I am worth something. I’m a good guy and I deserve a good girl.

Only now, I can’t find her because I’ve become insensitive to kilig, and humbled so much by my past realizations that I’m currently abstaining from dating to take a break first and think about all this; also because now, I’ve become satisfied. I’ve grown accustomed, almost happy with the consistency of being miserable in my own company. I’ve simply gotten used to it and I find it much ironic how I want to find somebody…but I don’t. And it’s so cool because that must be the single greatest thing I have ever accomplished to date: overcoming my predisposition to always want to be appreciated. I no longer need a woman to serve as my cane. I finally feel like I’ve finally grown up. And that’s cooler than anything I can think of right now, even if it does entail me being single for the meantime.

Looking Back on 6-11-05

2005-06-20T21:09:00.000+08:00

Before the 11th, you might have been able to say that I was going through somewhat of an “early-life” crisis. Everything I did within the past 6 months was intended to prove to myself that I had a purpose in life besides pollute, propagate, and die. I wanted something to live for (but as of yet, I’ve still to find out for myself), or at least something to show for the past 19 years of my life. I was to turn 20 on the 11th and I was so sure that without any “great shebang”, the day would pass by unnoticed and unappreciated despite it being a hallmark amongst a myriad of other “dates-to-remember” in my life. So when my mother asked me whether I wanted to attend the Hillsong concert (the composers and performers of most of the praise songs you hear today) and praise workshop, go out to some other event, or invite people at home, I found it as the perfect opportunity to have fun for a minute and just party out.

I must’ve had invited about 300 people to come, fully knowing that less than a quarter would actually arrive. Thanks to current technological trends, such as Friendster, Multiply, blog message boards, text messaging, and Yahoo, my job was done in less than two hours. “Logistics” were handled by my mother and me. She took care of ordering for the tables, food, and beer, while I set the tables up, made sure the house was clean, all embarrassing paraphernalia (i.e. baby pictures, etc.) were set aside, and there was a sufficient number of tracks on the mp3 and CD players to keep the guests from getting tired of the music.

People started coming in at around 8:30, then they came in flooding by the numbers around 10:00, and the last set of people left at around 7 in the morning. The great thing about that night is that I never expected anything from it besides expectant hope that people would get wasted. Though I was looking for a higher purpose in the midst of all this aging, the “great shebang” was meant for me to have fun and have a reason to take things outta my head and just celebrate for a minute, nothing more. The resulting consequence of such low expectations was, naturally, understatement. I was so taken aback by the number of people who came and their diversity that it was almost amazing just to find so many people so varied in the same place all at once. I found in the crowd of 70-80 people faces encountered during the very many stages of my life. People came from all areas of my memory: Southridge, Zobel, Taft, Ateneo, Canlubang, Alabang, “North”, far down “South,” St. James, and theater, and it felt so good to be there around everyone who has made an impression on me at some point or another in my lifetime. For a minute, there were no divisions—each collection of faces blended in with the next to draw a vivid recollection, a fantastic tableau wherein everything just fitted in with the other. That night, everything just made sense. I felt as if I had made an impression on the world, as if I had actually done something to deserve what I know, have, and want. I felt like, if I died early, people would come to my funeral and say good things at my wake. Of course, it could be that they just came because they wanted to drink and meet people, but all this philosophy seem so much better and easier to believe. That night, I had something to show for my 20 years of living. I still feel the same though. I still feel the same as I had when I was 19. After all, I am still the same person. Just please, God, bless me bountifully for years to come. I’d simply hate to think about what I’d be looking for in life when I turn 30 (knock on wood), even worse, when I turn 40 (knock on steel).

Voila!

2005-05-31T23:25:00.000+08:00

seriously guys... the funniest thing currently on the internet. check it out: http://www.big-boys.com/articles/numanuma.html

on other matters, might i just mention how difficult it is to think of something profound or intriguing or insightful when half the time i'm just thinking of when the waiting's gonna end? i've got the worst class schedule in the history of my school. i start at 8am every weekday, end at 6pm four times a week, i've got long breaks everyday, 5hrs and 20mins on mondays, 3 hours on tuesdays and fridays, 4hrs and 30mins on wednesdays, and a whopping 6hrs on thursdays. to those who have been around santa rosa, you will not be surprised to know that santa rosa is a desert. there' s nothing there. so half the time, i'm just at the coffee shop people watching, reading my books, and writing my "stuff." but seriously right?? i can only do this for so long man. what's worse is that it's only the beginning of the 2nd week. i've got 13 or so to go. goodluck to me. hahaha. life can be so exciting.

On my previous post...

2005-05-20T18:26:00.000+08:00

I just reread my previous post and realized that it is a piece of crap. PLEASE. Don't pay attention to anything I just said. Hahaha!

Post Insomnia

2005-05-18T14:33:00.000+08:00

What amazes me most out of the many fruits of my relentless insomnia is the fluency with which my ideas choose to present themselves. In the midst of deep rumination I am uncertain whether to be pleased or not with the perpetuity of my apparent lucidity. Due to the irritability I have inherited from five days and four nights of sleeplessness, there have been several instances wherein violence would have turned the best of my intentions into the most bitter of encounters if not for the sudden and unforeseen apparitions of rationality and the starling longevity of which. Simultaneously, in the midst of the most laborious efforts of reason, I find myself uttering the most honest of orations in the most crude of fashions. As I have so noticed, I find myself saying exactly what I want to say at the exact time I want to say it, both in writing and in speech, though not exactly in the manner that I initially intended to. What may begin as a subtle ranting of personal disappointment and frustration may conclude as a fierce inward debate on how I was never wrong and how I have been cheated by this world of romantic ideals and false allusions of current outlooks on the supposed ideal family environment to mid-50’s family television sitcoms.

I suppose that I could derive no other assumption from this observation (at least at this very moment) other than that because life is never perfect and that time is always flawed, past frustrations become current aggravations. Thus life does not indeed move on as everyone says it is, but rotates in a tireless cycle of perpetual disillusionment. Though, as the saying fondly goes, “There is nothing permanent in life besides change,” (which, for the purpose of this journal entry, I will apply only to human sentiment) there is in fact no real change as it is only a repetition of the past. Consider the solitude one experiences in moving to unfamiliar territory, such as a different city, province, or country. Is it not true that to some degree you have experienced that same solitude at some other point in your life, perhaps on your first day of school or after the first six months after your college graduation? Or consider perhaps the extreme lightness of being one inherits from falling “in love,” of which I am sure you have at least once sworn will never return when lost. Is it not true that contrary to your word, you eventually find relief in the arms of another person experiencing that same grace to the same, or more intense, degree?

In the light of my previous assumption, I probably may conclude that Life in itself as it affects the life of an individual is pointless. If so, why then do people continue to live, out of their own choice, lives that are aimless in a huge spin cycle of this giant washing machine called Life? I believe that it is because although life may seem, at times or most times, arbitrary, it feels damn good to live. Though misery is searing, it wakes the man into a realization that, “Shit. This heart can feel.” and it inspires him to search for that lightness that moves him to write his poetry and shave his face in the morning. Though disappointments and frustrations live lurking behind everyday encounters, there too, behind the happenstances, looms a more poignant, more powerful sensation: triumph.

*I've finally been able to sleep. I've had my rest and I feel incredible.

Insomnia

2005-05-14T06:38:00.000+08:00

"If I had a gun, I would shoot her. I would go to her house and ring the doorbell as I would just about every time that I've dropped by to visit her. I would wait for her to open the front door, and go down the stairs, and open the gate, and stick her cheek out to greet me. Then I would take out the pistol and pull the trigger. I would shoot her. Right in between the eyebrows. I would shoot her for how terrifyingly vulnerable she makes me feel in her company. I would shoot her for the way her stare seers through my flesh, embedding unto my skin a scent of burning desperation and envy. I would shoot her for her audacious character and for every inch of her alluring being. I would shoot her for the paralysis she causes me when she smiles my direction and shoot her for her bold laughter. I would shoot her for being the cause of my delirium and the bane of my every waking dream. I would shoot her for the way she is and what she is and who she is to me. I would shoot her, I'm telling you I would. Then I'm gonna call him up and ask him to meet me somewhere. Then I'm gonna shoot him too."
--if I fell asleep last night, I would have heard myself in my dream say this

I am on my third consecutive day without sleep. I've shifted through every position my body has the capability to bend toward, and landed myself in a knot. I simply can't sleep. Everytime I close my eyes, I see them and I feel like beating somebody up. I'm actually wishing I wound up in a fight so I could at least vent all this out. I wanna go to the gym and train with the heavy bag. But I can't. Because I've made other commitments for today. But I swear, if anybody has the gall and the courage to make me cross today, I will break that somebody's nose, cut it off with a spoon, and feed it to my dog.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

2005-05-12T03:37:00.000+08:00

My mind has more or less centered on the same idea since I woke up this afternoon. Moving around has been a constant effort and I have to remind myself to do the things I usually do as routine. It's like, "Grab the ketchup bottle; now, the fork --space out-- Oh yeah. The fork." Putangina man. Kay hirap mabuhay sa komplikadong mundo. How I wish that everything was easier to say, as explicit as 1+1=2.

Q: "Oh, so why'd you even do that when
you could have foreseen the complications
that could arise from such an action?"
A: "Because I'm an asshole."

There's something I wanna tell someone, but can't seem to put it into words. Rather, I can't put it simply. Lately, I've found that majority of the advice I give is composed of simple metaphors and allusions to things I find around me (i.e. "Life is the way it is because...Wait. Notice how the trees sway..." Why can't I just say, "Life is the way it is...because it is the way that is.") [Hahaha! Stupid example, but hey, it's not like I'm gonna be quoted on this right?! Anyway...]. I suppose I can't say things as explicitly as I would prefer because, let's face it man--not everyone wants to hear the truth and even if they wanted to hear the truth, the truth isn't always the easiest thing to say. I don't wanna be honest, at least in this particular conundrum that I currently find myself in, because I recognize the possibility that what I have to say may hurt a person I care much about. I don't wanna talk because anything and everything I say will reflect on how I was wrong and how much of a jackass I've been. But regardless, I guess I just have to because:

"Everybody's gotta learn sometime." --Beck, "Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime"

Fuck. I feel like a fucking grape.

Telepono

2005-05-10T19:37:00.000+08:00

"Napaaga yata ang gising ni Foster!" ang siyang reklamo ni Mongol ukol sa maagang pagtilaok ng kaniyang alagang manok. Alas-kwatro pa lamang ng umaga--iilang oras pa ang natitira bago sumikat ang araw. Malagkit ang hangin, tila ang ramdam ay parang naligo at natuyuan ng maligamgam na tubig mula sa kinakalawang na troso. Hindi siya mapakali. Hindi siya makatulog muli sa ibabaw ng kaniyang kama na basa sa malamig na pawis at nangangamoy ng matapang na putok. Naisip niya na abutin ang telepono sa ibabaw ng lamesa na katabi ng kaniyang kama nang matawagan ang dalaga na sana'y gising pa ngayong madaling araw, nang siya ay mayroong makausap hanggang abutin ng antok. Nang kaniyang naalala ang kaniyang malupit na pagpaalam:

"Kailangan ko ang mag-isip at mag-isa kaya't ito

na muna ang aking masinsinang pagpaalam.

Hahanapin kita kapag mayroon nang laman at

diwa ang aking nais sabihin. Ngunit, hangga't

dumating ang panahong iyon, paalam."

Parang suman na sapilitang ibinabalot sa dahon ng saging, nabalot ang binata sa isang kumot ng hiya at sadya niyang ibinalot ang sarili sa kaniyang basa na kubre-kama. Tiniis niya ang masagwang ramdam ng basa na kumot na tilang parang basahan na ipinampunas sa bulok na gatas ang amoy. Hindi naman siya madalas nangangamoy ng putok kaya't ipinagtaka niya ang dahilan at sanhi ng kababalaghan na ito. Bago siya binawi ng antok, tinitigan niya ang telepono, at ibinulong sa kaniyang sarili, "Gago. Matulog ka na." Ipinikit niya ang kaniyang mga mata at pinilit ang sarili na lumangoy muli sa tahimik na mundo ng panaginip.

*I've slept significantly less in the last two weeks than I've slept on the average in the past four months. Truly, guilt has a violent way of keeping me awake. It has made an admirable effort at dissuading me from the instinctive reply of my body to the awful awful effects of stress and fatigue. Much to my displeasure, the war against sleep has been won. I give up. I can't take this man. I give up.

"Lord, can you hear me now, or am I lost?"

(Weekend!)

2005-05-02T19:40:00.000+08:00

Nagpapasalamat ako nang masinsinan sa Diyos Maykapal at mayroon akong nagagawa sa aking oras maliban sa matulog at kumain at magbabad sa drama ng aking buhay.

[segway to English, dahil hindi ko kayang itagalog ang aking sasabihin. hahaha.]

Last Saturday and Sunday, my friends from the Saint James Youth Encounter held a garage sale at the De Leon residence. It went quite well, if I may say so. Last week, I think we made around 15 thousand and this week, we made 15 to 20, I think, which leaves us with another 150k to raise for sponsoring the next Youth Encounter class. Ang saya saya.

Saturday evening, my parents decided to go see Metro Metro all the way up north coz we've never been there. Awesome place man. Never imagined it to be so packed with cool stores. They've got a tiangge sorta section, plus they've got other good stores, and all beside a real market. Seriously, they've got rice and fresh seafood and fruits. Totally awesome. Saw Pom's family too! His dad's back so they went out to celebrate his arrival. Coolness.

Then Sunday, I met my friends Kyla, Ange, Caisa, and her kid brother Tinoy at Cibo, and that was cool too. Kyla had a show at the Alabang Town Center Activity Center, missed it (so sorry Ky!) coz I had to catch the 6pm mass but at least I got to hang with them. I haven't exactly had the chance to hang out and chat with these beautiful ladies for the longest time. Missed them more than I could ever have imagined. They remind me so much of Katipunan and how wild it was there (coz of course, that's where we all came together) and it was kinda refreshing to just have some down time with them over iced tea...and beer for me. Hahaha.

That same evening, Pom texted me that he was at Town Center too, so we met up and Ange joined us. We had some drinks at San Mig then we went to catch the new movie of Sandara Park and Hero Angeles. Hahaha. It was real cheesy but in a good kinda way, the type that gets you squeeling instead of hurling over your backrest.

The night would have been perfect if only my mom hadn't called. How high school is that? Haha. My mom, she calls me at 1am asks me where I am, so I say I'm bringing Pom and Ange home, which I was, then she lashes out at me for being out all the time and not asking permission if I could go and watch a movie! You see, my paalam was that if they could let me go out and hang out with my friends and that I was meeting them at Starbucks. My ma misunderstood and thought I was staying at Starbucks the whole time. Haha I don't even get what the big deal is! It's the middle of summer, I'm not doing anything wrong, I went to mass, so why can't I hang with my buddies right? Anyway, she waited for me to get home then she took my keys. Haaay...bahala na. I didn't do anything wrong, right, so no use stressing over this. Good vibes. Hahaha! But otherwise, if it wasn't for the incident with my mother, the weekend was flawless. Time well spent indeed.
Good job Carlos. Good job.
[pats self on the back]

[Interlude]

2005-04-28T09:42:00.000+08:00

Ubos na ang sigarilyo kaya't siya'y lumisan sa kulungan ng kaniyang bahay at nagmaneho patungo sa Gitna ng Baryo ng Alabang (Hahaha! Pilit ba ang transleysyon ng ginoong nagmamaka-makata?). Siya'y bumili ng isang pakete ng Marlboro Menthols sa Fuma, isang baso ng malamig na kape sa Starbucks, tumambay sa bandang labas, at nagsindi. Masyado madali ang magluwas ng pera kapag yosi at kape ang kinakailangan ng sistema, lalo nang mas masarap kapag ang pera ay hindi sayo. [Nakaaaliw isipin na ang ilang mga Pinoy ay nahihirapan kumita ng sarili nilang pera ngunit ang hilig nila na gumasta ng isang daan at singkwenta pesos para sa isang baso ng kape; libo-libo para sa damit at sapatos na magagara para lamang sila'y maituring ng karamihan na "astig." Wala lang. Naisip niyo ba kung bakit ang sarap-sarap gumasta ng malaking halaga para sa bagay na hindi ninyo naman kinakailangan?] Kay sarap na magbigay aliw sa sarili nang walang bastos na nakikita. Nakasasawa ang manood ng telebisyon at pelikula na panay patayan at halikan at hubaran at pamumuhay nang walang kabuluhan ang ipinapakita.

Sa ganitong paraan niya sinunog ang natitirang kalahati ng kaniyang araw. At kaniyang biglang namalayan na wala siyang nagawa na mayroong kahit isa mang butil ng halaga sa kanya at sa kahit kanino, at mas mainam pa siguro kung siya'y hindi na lamang bumangon mula sa ginhawa ng kaniyang mahiwagang kama.

Ang Unang Kabanata

2005-04-26T19:24:00.000+08:00

Ilang hapon ang lumipas nang ang Mongol ay nahanap, nakatungo at mayroong hawak na lapis at aklat.

"Dalawang araw pa lamang ang nakalipas nang

huling siya ay nasulyapan at agad ay nanglalabo

na ang bituin ng kaniyang mga mata at ginto sa

kaniyang tawa sa aking alaala. Malungkot pala ang

magpaalam sa kaibigan. Parang sigarilyo sa malamig

na umaga, kailangan ko ang kanyang tuwa sa aking

mga baga. Tila parang liwanag, kailangan ko

siyang makita."

Sa isang tuldok nagwakas ang pagsusulat ng binata at parang puting abo sa mahangin na gabi, siya'y tumayo mula sa kaniyang kinaroroonan, naglakad pababa ng hagdanan, tumungo sa kusina at nagkanaw ng isang tasa ng mainint na kape.

Ang Adventures Ni Mighty Mongol At Ni Mr. Lapis

2005-04-26T19:03:00.000+08:00

Mahilig kumagat ang langgam sa matamis. Tulad rin sa ating mga munting mga kaibigan, ang tao ay kumakagat rin ngunit hindi lamang sa asukal at pandesal, kung hindi sa galit rin at pait, sa tuwa at saya, sa lungkot at pagiisa. Sa munting paraisong ito na gawa lamang sa nakikita ngunit hindi nadarama, nais ko ang palambutin ang isip at tunawin ang kaba at magbigay ng kahit kakaonting aliw sa paraan ng pagsasalaysay ng aking mga pakikipagsapalaran laban sa mga kapangyarihan na hindi ko pa talaga nakikilala. Ako si Mighty Mongol, si Mr. Lapis ang aking saydkick, magkasama kami ang tuldok na dilaw, ang asukal na magpapatamis sa inyong gabi, hapon, at umaga. Kaya't tara na at kumagat sa buhay kong makulay at magsaya, magalit, at lumuha. Kami ang Tuldok na Dilaw. Bow.