I don’t want to go emo on you again and I really think people don’t care about that nor do I want them to. There’s nothing new in my life. Nothing old that’s now gone. (Dear God, I’m not saying you should take something/someone so that I can write something. Amen.) There’s simply nothing noteworthy to write about.

As for pictures… well, let’s just say that my camera has also been neglected too. The latest use I found for it was to spy on the people on the next building. Maybe I should not have said that.

I think I need a push. A shove. No… I need to be catapulted. There’s a lot of things I want to do but no time, no money and no idea where, how, when to do it. I would like to learn another language. I would like to learn to play the violin. I would like to start exercising. I would like to go to bars and socialize. I would like to go on date. I would like to travel. I would like to have a minor operation. I want to get lost. I want to go clothes shopping. I would like to learn a new handy skill. I would like to learn to cook.

A lot more really. Those are just the ones that come to mind. And the ones safe to write publicly. One recurring thought I have is if only I have an insane amount of money, I would have done those things already. If I had the money, I would quit my job and focus on doing the things I want. I would also have something to write about. I imagine I would post about the stupid mistake of putting the predicate before the subject in my Nihonggo lessons. Or how I smashed the bow to pieces on my instructors head. Or how I failed miserably on my date.

But, alas. Those are not meant to be. Not now anyway. Or in the near future. I now I may sound pessimistic, and I am but I really do believe that unless something changes drastically (Dear God, By that I mean for the better. Amen.), like winning the lottery, getting super powers, or meeting the (hopefully rich) love of my life, I don’t think any of those things will happen.

So blog, don’t take it personally that I have not posted. It’s not you, it’s me. And my drastically boring life.

Actually, this article started because I was writing an article and noticed that it got too long even by my standards. Then I remembered that I read about a contraction that is quite relevant to my style of writing and decided that I should write (and prove that the contraction should be prolifically used in the comments section of my blog) about the said contraction.

You should have guessed what the contraction is with the title of this article but in case you are an idiot or have the memory retention of a bedpan, the contraction is “TL;DR”. It means “Too Long; Didn’t Read”. I can hear your brains go “Aaahhh. Yeah, I should comment that often.”

I’m not an idiot. I know that my articles are long and though they are not always intended to be such, it is not a mistake that they are. I am wordy. I like words even to the point of the detriment of my articles. Yes, I write my articles with the intention of public perusal and the fact that it’s long and quite boring midway is a turn off but I don’t care. Well, I do a little but not to the point that I would make a drastic change in my writing behavior. Maybe a little, but not enough that you’d notice it.

My articles are long because I just have a lot of things to say and I want to say them in a fashion that’s long and boring. Well, not really but it comes out that way anyway. For example, I could simply say, “I went home because it was raining.” but I don’t. Instead, I write, “Since it was precipitating, it would be difficult if I endeared to go anywhere so I chose the homeward bound route instead.” Yeah, I know it’s stupid and even I hate it sometimes but I find it fun to write in that fashion. Also, if you’ve noticed, I write like I am talking to you. I know writing is supposed to be like that but what I mean is that I write in a way as if I’m talking to you. If you listen to me actually talk and then read what I write, they would be very similar if not entirely the same. The difference with “normal” writing is that when you read a history book out loud, it’s not like you are having a conversation. It’s more like reading out loud. If you read my articles out loud, and if you use the right emphasis, stress, tone and whatnot while reading it, it will sound like I am just having a rather long monologue. I try to make it sound like I’m talking to you. This is apparent with the my “errors”. In writing, if after proofreading you find an error, you simply correct it. However, in conversations you can’t do that. You will have to say the sentence again and that’s how I write. Then I do a lot of “foot notes” (like this) to my sentences just to emphasize or explain or for whatever other purpose.

Not only are my articles riddled with grammar and spelling errors, they are also not meant to follow convention. I am abusing my privilege and I don’t care. So what if it’s really about shoes yet a good chunk of the article drones forever about the cat I saw yesterday? I know I should take writing classes and I know I will benefit from it but I would probably just use some of the points that “I” find to be correct. Even if it is generally accepted as correct, if I don’t find it to be applicable to my personality or would ruin the fun in my writing process, than I would ignore it anyway. I admit that I would get better (like 10000%) if I take a writing class but I don’t know any and I don’t want to exert effort to find one. If you know a cheap or free good one, then contact me. I would appreciate it.

I have a mind that thinks way too fast for my own good. Just now, this sentence was supposed to be a part of the previous paragraph. Yet when I typed it, a whole slew of expounding sentences came to mind so I had to give it its own paragraph. Anyway, my mind has a lot of random ideas and sometimes I can’t keep up. They just pop into mind without provocation and since I think it would be a waste for such wonderful thoughts made by such a brilliant mind to not be known by the world, I include them.

I remember our gradeschool English and Filipino lessons where we had to write about “Our Summer Vacation” and then dread would engulf me since I thought I could not possibly say 100 words about my summer. Well, all I can say is my teachers should see me now. One hundred? Ha! Try a thousand. Let’s see them read through my garbage articles and not be tempted to fail me. I doubt they ever will if I did write like that since that would mean another year with me but still, any form of vengeance would feel gratifying after suffering through all that.

So yeah. I know I have long articles that even the promise of a brighter future and world peace would not be enough to entice you to actually read, much less understand, it. It is, however, the way I write. I cannot help it (not that I made an effort to correct it). Anyway, what I’m trying to say is (finally), I’m sorry if it bores you.

The main one is that I look like I bite, which is true. Piss me off enough and I will hurt you and biting’s not beneath me. They say I look intimidating. I sometimes do this on purpose especially when I feel that someone wants to approach me and I have sensed that the topic that they want to talk about is unappealing or brain numbing. Putting up a face that says, “disturb me and I will rip your face apart that even your mother won’t be able to identify you… or love you” is a very good deterent. Sometimes I don’t do this on purpose. I found out that my face, when left on it’s own, has the tendency to look menacing. My cheeks will simply fall, giving me a slack, unhappy look. My eyelids tend to droop so it looks like I’m squinting and serious. I have dark circles under my eyes which could look like lack of sleep and for people who know me, I am not one to talk with when sleep deprived. It also does not help that I am huge and will probably have a very good career as a bouncer. People fear that if they displease me that I will crush them like an aluminum soda can (I have to be specific since I can’t crush most of the cans of fruit juices). Even if we were taught to not judge a book by it’s cover, we can’t deny that it’s the looks that will either attract or repel us from a person. I am obviously at a disadvantage here.

Another is that they think I’m too prim and proper. This reason is up for debate. I think it is one of the few things that we need for chaos to not ensue. I do this for the sake of said concern for chaos prevention not because I like to be prim and proper. If it’s generally accepted to occupy two bus seats while ignoring a standing pregnant lady, handicapped boy and/or frail old man for comfort and personal space issues and would not result in death, accident, uncomfortable stares, growls or teeth gnashing then I would do so. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. To look prim and proper is also important yet some people ignore this. One does not wear shorts 2 sizes smaller than one’s body just because it’s the in thing and might show off the non-existent package one thinks one has or wear pants 2 (why 2…?) sizes too large so one can wear it around one’s ankles. I don’t care if it’s meant to look like that or it’s given enough stretching provisions to be usable by a cow sized person, it still looks wrong. They might not be aware of this but people who wear inappropriately sized clothes are the indirect cause of wars. This was proven in a study I read (and made up). People in charge of the big red button that starts wars are not blind (as they need to see which button does what) so they can see these people wearing these abominations. Each day that they see these people dressed like idiots adds a little to their stress levels. Eventually, this stress will build up and then they’ll just explode and randomly press things which can potentialy start a war if the right button is pressed (the big red one, in case you forgot already). But I digress… and have been for the last nine sentences. Anyway, looking prim and acting proper is important for human sanity so this should be expected from everyone and not be used as an excuse to call someone unapproachable. I might be pushing it to the limits though, which is why the use it as a reason. They think that I have an unbendable will to conform to standards, customs and traditions and might think that talking to me about nonsense or anything avant garde might be pointless. I agree about the nonsense part but what people don’t know about me is that I find very little to be nonsense. As long as the thing you want to talk about has something that will enrich my knowledge of things then it is fine. If it’s about a child of a former leader having STD or not is none of my concern and should only be discussed with that person’s doctor and never with me or anyone else for that matter. Anything radical should be fine as it is still subject to scrutiny as to whether it’s useful or not. I am not necessarily at a disadvantage here but I’m not exactly raking up brownie points either.

Then there’s the lack of enthusiasm and interest. People sometimes find that I don’t do well as a conversation partner as I do not react sometimes or if I do react it’s not in the way that they were expecting. I found out that that is typical of a person with an MBTI classification of INTJ (I will post another (loooong) article about this soon. (Penny: “Oh. Yey.”)). I agree that talking to someone who does not seem interested with what you’re talking about is quite disconcerting. In spite of my agreeing with this, I cannot help myself but ignore boring topics and not jump in glee when you announce your engagement. Once again I am at a disadvantage.

Whatever the reason people say for my “unapproachable”ness is, it is obvious that I am obviously discriminated. Just because I have face that scowls whenever it’s relaxed, that I try to delay apocalypse by imposing rules bordering on pedantic and that I don’t find you interesting is no reason for people to fear approaching me. Okay, maybe those are reason enough but that doesn’t mean they still shouldn’t try to approach me. It’s simply knowing when and how you approach me that a person should know. Here, I’ll tell you a few pointers on the proper way of approaching me:

When and how you can approach me:

- You can approach me when I am obviously doing nothing. (This is apparent when I am sighing and yawning (not at the same time, mind you) a lot or looking around trying to spot people to annoy. My simply sitting and staring at a point in space is not an indication of my being idle.)

- You can approach me when I actually wave back at you (make sure it’s you and not someone behind you) and make sure it’s an enthusiastic wave back and not laced with intent of murder.

- You can approach me when you are about to give me money (even if the situation falls under one of the “don’t approach me” instances) but make sure it is of a substantial amount.

- Approach me bearing gifts especially if you intend to ask anything from me.

- Approach me kneeling if a prostrate position is not possible (Fine, this is optional since it is not a norm to do so in a public setting and you know me and my unbendable determination to follow rules. Apply when able).

- Approach me with reverence.

- Approach me slowly, avoiding eye contact.

- Approach me if you have no concern for personal safety.

When and how not to approach me:

- Don’t approach me when I am obviously doing something.

- Don’t approach me when I am trying to sleep.

- Don’t approach me when I just woke up.

- Don’t approach me when, as you are walking towards me, I give you a scathing look.

- Don’t approach me when I am reading a book even if it looks like I am reading it lazily.

- Don’t approach me when I ignore the 10 comfortable seats near you and choose the one at the back with no arm rests and is near a trash can or the wash room entrance.

- Don’t approach me when you walk towards me and I flee.

- Don’t approach me when I try to fend you off with a ten foot pole.

- Don’t approach me when I look like I am making a move to walk into oncoming traffic than talk to you.

- Don’t approach me when there is a potential murder weapon nearby, such as a knife, a baseball bat, a hot cup of coffee, a motorized vehicle or your shoes.

- Don’t approach me when I say “Don’t approach me”.

- Don’t approach me when I mimic commiting suicide as you are walking towards me.

- Don’t approach me if the air around my area is of a different temperature than the current ambient temperature.

- Don’t approach me if you’re wearing shorts 2 sizes too small or pants 2 sizes too large.

- Definitely don’t approach me if you’re naked.

- Don’t approach me if the reason is to tell me about the latest about a certain celebrity’s life.

Okay, so maybe I’m not that “easy” to approach but I’m definitely not “unapproachable”. It may be hard but it’s not impossible, nearly impossible but not absolutely impossible. According to the list, there’s 1 in 3 chances that it will go well. That’s a good 33% chance. Besides, what’s the worst that can happen, right? It’s not like I’m going to kill you (unless there are deadly devices around or you’re drinking coffee or wearing shoes and have the intention of talking about how the celebrity couple broke up). Anyway, my point in all this is: I don’t get it when you tell me that I’m unapproachable ’cause as you can see, there are a lot of ways that you can approach me, only it’s hard and needs precise timing. But still, not unapproachable. So to you people out there that still bother to remember my name and does not shirk whenever I am around, I implore you to reconsider calling me unapproachable. I’m approachable, really.

As you would, undoubtedly, expect from me, this is the second photo of the occasional outburst of inspiration and determination that I get whenever I do something new with my blog. I hope this inspiration and determination will last longer than my normal ones. Regardless, I will take this wave and ride it out till it lasts.

This is a toy, I think, made of small spherical magnetic balls (Jack McFarland: “Hihihi… balls”). There are 216 of these here balls spheres about 1 cm in diameter, connected together via their intense need to cling to (on?) something. I saw these spheres way before I saw Big Bang Theory, so I thought these had just one polarity (i.e. monopoles) (ah… the ignorance). It was only after multiple failed attempts to construct them into various shapes that it occurred to me that they actually had two if not a gazillion (believe me, it will try your patience). As you can see in the photo, these spheres have been through a lot of handling (see why I avoided using “balls”) as they are very much scratched and stained. The thought of taking its picture came to me after the first week that I saw it but due to laziness and other circumstances (read: more laziness), it was only after a year that I managed to take some photos of it.

This was supposed to be a macro shot but I didn’t (and still don’t) have the right equipment for it and, since this was the third of three subjects in my schedule for that day, my patience was already spent. I settled for a close up shot instead. The setup was like this: I placed a black seamless paper on a table where part of it was on the table and the other taped to the wall;  the cube of spheres was near the edge of the table; the sphere was made to “stand” with the help of a paper clip, there was one flash positioned directly above the cube pointing directly downward with a soft box attached to it; the camera was on a tripod about ten to twelve inches away from the cube; the lens was the 85mm attached to the shortest and middle ring of a macro extension tube.

This is the result of that setup. I did not notice that the clip was showing at the bottom (and for those of you who didn’t notice it, pretend you didn’t read that) but it isn’t that distracting. Also, I think there was too much ambient light for my taste. I wanted the lower tier of spheres to not be so bright. However, in spite of the spheres being scratched, they retained much of their reflectiveness. I just lowered the exposure to a level that wasn’t detrimental to the detail of each sphere.  All in all, I like the photo (of course, since I chose to display it in public).

… waking people groaning trying to get up off the ground, covered in sand and ash mixture after a drunken stupor  the night before. Well, it probably was but I can’t be sure since I was one of the few who didn’t (or should I say, “couldn’t”) wake up early. I was planning to but I didn’t (or couldn’t). I wanted to get a few sunrise shots since I doubt I’d come back here in the near future. However, the night was replete with activity and sleep was not blissful and my normal body reaction to that is to get more sleep.

Anyway. This is a shot from my collection from last year… from the same Nagsasa trip of Hay Fever and Silica and Weeds database… yes I know… pathetic. But that’s life… well, mine at least. These are the hills that you will see behind the wall of pine that blocks the shore from the land beyond.

This photo is my poor attempt at converting a non panoramic shot into something that I hope resembles the real thing. It does not, thus the “poor” in “poor attempt”. Anyhoo… the other thing I tried here was to remove the blue tinge that casts over landscapes. The background hills were originally bluer than blue… sadder than sad… *ahem* than it is now. That’s as much blue I could remove without making it look too unnatural and I think I did a good job with that.

Also, this is my first post using my new theme!!! I managed to edit and fix almost the whole thing. My thanks goes out to BatangYagit for helping me with the CSS/PHP/HTML/ABC/H2O/ASAP/SOS or whatever hell it’s called crap that eludes my knowledge.

The moment I walked past this tuft of weed, I knew what the photo I was about to take was going to look like. You see there are some rules hmm… maybe more like guidelines in taking photographs. I’m no expert. Heck, I’m not sure I even qualify to be an amateur more like novice maybe. Anyhoo, one of the guides in composing photographs is to have leading lines. What this means is that when you have a particularly apparent line or lines in your photo, most of the time it would be make a better photograph if the lines were to lead the eyes of the viewer somewhere. Here, my leading lines are the shadows of the grass. And yes, I know, it leads nowhere. Nevermind.

Hmmm… When I took the photo, the shadows in the sand were actually bluish. Probably a reflection of the sky or something. Anyway, what I did was to select that color and then I desaturated it. Luckily, there aren’t anything else blue in the photo so nothing else was changed. Other than that, I changed nothing else with it.

First post of the year!!! (^_^) … and the only one for the last 3 months… (T~T)…

Anyway…

This shot was taken last… uhm… sometime ago. It’s a shot of the sidewalk of one of the side of Ayala Triangle, the side facing Paseo de Roxas. Took it from a low vantage point with the sensor almost perpendicular to the ground (thus the lens was parallel to the ground). My first mistake was I took the shot with only the JPEG and no RAW and the second was that I set the camera to take it already in B/W format. Yeah, I know. Stupid. Also there’s a billion and one other things wrong with it but let’s not get into that. Hurts my pride you see. As for the PP, since I could do very little to it (mostly because I really don’t know how to PP other than a little tweak here and there), the main edits are mostly contrast and resizing.

I have found that one reason why I post so few and far in between is because I dread having to look for the EXIF data of the photo (though I have the tools to do so). That and I’m just lazy. Whenever I have the drive to post a photo, I get deterred when I think I have to look for the original photo and have to extract the original EXIF. Well, I realize something. Since I post processed heavily anyway and my posted photos barely look like what the original photo, I decided I would forgo that particular bit of (rather useless at this point) information. So, from now on it’s just going to be a little info on the photo from whatever I can remember when I took it and maybe the techniques (if there are any) that I applied to the photo, from taking it to processing it. And of course the photo.

I just thought I’d post something today since today is an uncommon day. It’s so uncommon, it’s only happened a few times. I like this day. It’s very special to me.

You see, I have this thing with patterns and symmetry. Though I am not borderline mental or OC about it, I like how things make a pattern.

Anyway, I like today since it’s the tenth day of October on this year 2010. It’s not really much if you think about it but it still is unique in it’s ways.

10/10/10. That’s why. Today’s date has a pattern. A unique pattern that only happens once every century. That pattern will only happen 100 years from now. There have been patterns in the last few years and 2 more coming. 01/01/01, 02/02/02, 03/03/03 have all been patterns.

Anyway, that’s just it. The date makes a pattern. It makes me happy.

So… Yeah. Here’s a photo of an actual balloon from the hot air balloon thing my friends and I went to last February at Clark. I don’t have much to say about it really, which is weird since I have a lot to say about a lot of things. Anyway, it’s just a photo of a sun shaped balloon (You: Gee, I wouldn’t have guessed that.) in an a very blue sky (You: I didn’t notice that too).

I have about 30 shots of this thing trying to get a good angle and good lighting. This is the best I got. This is zoomed at 200mm and then further cropped in editing to remove much of the sky. These are the times that I can say that sometimes the gear you have matters. A dedicated fast, telephoto lens could have done for this shot.

Anyhoo, hmmm… yeah. Just increased the blueness of the sky and cropped and… hmmm… not much else really.

Well, there goes that resolve. I don’t know why I’m even like this. Probably because I’m a stupid obsessive asshole who can’t take a hint. Green’s here today… completely visible from where I’m sitting. When I pass by her area I just get a tiny hint of her scent and it drives me wild. My decision to avoid her completely makes me want to stab myself with an ice pick for thinking that I could pull that off. I’ve never been good at going cold turkey and seeing her everyday doesn’t help it one bit.

When I pass by her terminal, I see her typing slowly and makes me ache that I can’t sit by her side to hear those slow taps that fill me with joy. I sit and see her face, the monitor giving her already glowing face a little more glow. I could stare at her the whole day and not get tired. Every song I hear makes me think about Green and every song seems to be about her, about me liking her, about me not able to be with her. I see how her eyes move reading the stuff in the monitor, wishing that I were those words she sees. I even get stupid quotes in my head and contemporize then into stupid sounding ones. No, I won’t say those what those are. I may be desperately head over heels but I think I still have my judgment. (Actually, I was going to put one but after rereading it… it was just sad and stupid.)

Our eyes sometimes meet and in the few microseconds that it takes for me to look away, I am filled with all the joy when I realize that I have the good luck of being alive and this close to her. Yet, I am also filled with all the sadness when I realize that I can never stare into those eyes and drown myself in them. I think back on the few times that I could have made our time together wonderful but didn’t and I fall just a little farther down my already deep hole of misery.

Day 011

Wouldn’t you know it… It seems Fate likes to torture me with confusing signs. I can’t sit in my normal row recently since the Basis team are here. Now I sit in the row in front of my normal row which brings me closer to Green. Yeah. Something I look so forward to.

Then yesterday, well… yesterday there was something that was going to happen that would have given me the chance to make an ultimatum with Green. It would have made me decide whether I ultimately tell her that I like her and wait for a reaction or not tell her I like her and just continue to blatantly ignore her or to tell her I’m going cold turkey on her because I like her so much. I was looking forward to it as much as a convict on death row does his judgment day. But still, it was a thing I wanted to do so I can actually just get it over it. And Fate knew that. And I’m sure you’ve guessed by now what happened.

Anyway, now I’m absolutely sure that Green knows I’m avoiding her. What I’m not sure of is how she feels about it. She’s avoiding me now too so I guess she’s fine with it. Before when she looks around at her surroundings she would still look in my direction. Now, she skips it. Before I think she still looks at me from her peripheral vision, now I know she doesn’t. I guess I do know how she feels about it.

*Sigh* How I miss being to stare at her while she typed away, smiling. Now I can’t do that for fear that she might see me looking at her and she’s gonna know why I avoid her. It will look bad. Very bad. These are the kinds of situations that even one small assumption can be catastrophic.

There’s something that really pisses me off and that is now that I don’t go near her anymore, some other bastard sits next to her. Though he’s not interested in her, the fact that I hate the bastard since his a pompous ass (or I make him out to be a pompous, I’m not sure. Scratch that, he is.) and that he shares more time with Green even though he doesn’t treasure it as much as I would.

Sorry if this thing is in shambles and the flow of thoughts are in disarray. I am typing as things happen and as feelings surge. I like her high cheek bones. Damn. Before I could be so close to her I could probably reach out and touch her and she would let me. We sat so close that even if I didn’t mean to, I would see her. Now, I strain my eye muscles just so I’d see her hand typing away. She has a funny laugh.

She’s doing that stupid thing she does. I keep teasing her about it but she does it anyway. I like her because of that.

I’ve asked a friend about what I should do and he told me not to tell her. Do you know that thing when you think you don’t know which to choose between two things because you think either are just as okay to do as the other so then you ask someone to decide for you so they choose one for you and when you hear the decision it makes you sad and think that they chose wrong? It’s stupid really. I have this thing that when I’m faced with a choice of two things and that I don’t know which to choose, I flip a coin. This helps me about 90% of the time. There are just choices like “regular or large fries” that a coin can be helpful with. However, there is also the 10% that it doesn’t work and those are questions you already know the answer to but you don’t want to see it embodied, much less in a coin.

So now, I know that not telling her is not what I want. I want to tell her. But I can’t. Won’t. Can’t. I don’t know. I want her to know but I know that will change everything and my guts says it’s going to change for the worse. So do I still want to tell her? I don’t know. I don’t think I can. Sometimes I just hope she finds out and she shows me signs of how she feels about it. Or not. Argh!