WHEN EVERYTHING IS FUCKED UP

Each of us has those moments of pure, utter helplessness. Of pure, utter weakness. Moments where we seem to think that everything is over, and that there is no way to get out of our predicament.

Sometimes, the thing with these predicaments, we try to hide them inside prerequisite, comforting phrases, or sayings, to up-heave the more primitive instinct lingering at the back of our heads. Anger, hate, denial… etc.

Nobody’s perfect. Everybody makes mistakes.

Yes no one is perfect. Most of us have chosen to believe that mistakes are a part of life. With these very comforting words, we can reason out that failure is not failure but only a bump on our proverbial road. Failure, is not something to be scared of, but something to look forward to. Everybody has those days. You face it. You live with it. Then you go on.

But then, it gets tiresome sometimes. There is a limit to how many times one can stand the un-glorious demise of success in their lives. And it’s in this moment that we see the comfort of giving up. We see it’s embracing arms waiting, as we fall back to it’s promise of defeat. We realize that pushing forward does nothing. We realize why some of us, after trying so many times, still fails. Simply put, they start believing that they are never meant to succeed. It’s easier that way, most would say, when you have accepted that you are a failure. A loser in the game of life.

This is where i am right now. Defeat after defeat. Failure after failure. Slowly, in front of me i am seeing the demise of my pride, my dreams, and everything else. I am tired, I want to give up. It’s no longer something i could live with. It’s no longer something i could let others take the hit for. The suffering for.

I honestly want to quit. To surrender. And God knows i’ve been ready for so long now.

*yes, that picture has nothing to do with the entry.

ST BEDE’S KITCHEN

Jusko! Sumunod sa tatay ko, itong si Arvin na ang chef na pinakamalapit sa TIYAN ko! Potaena lahat ng tinikman ko kumukunot ang mukha ko kakaisip kung pano nya ginawa yun. Leche ka Arvin, sarap!

Gawa ni Paulo Vergara!

Lamb Chops, Mechado, Molo, Bulalo Steak, Tilapia Steak w/ salsa, Bicol Express, Sizzling Oxbrain, Sizzling Sisig, and Arvin’s famous Tokwa’t Baboy, balak ko sanang i-try mag food photography, kaso tuwing ilalapag yung pagkain susunggaban na kagad, so ito lang nakunan ko, nakalimutan ko pa kung anu pangalan!

But it tasted so freakin good!

Daan kayo, sa me Kamuning, Jude Jimenez St. corner K1st St.(?) Basta andun lang yun. Mura beer! Go!

Check out the interiors man, kami gumawa nyan! And we’re thinking about doing it for a living, so, any takers?

Me lounge corner pa!

SO again, I’m inviting you to St. Bede’s Kitchen, where the food just taste better, and the beer taste a little sweeter!

INEBRIATION

There is a fine line that separates being drunk and being pissed-drunk. A very fine, thin line, that is almost non-existent. Almost.

I found out that the best, and worst, way to find out what the difference between them, is your girlfriend telling you everything that you we’re doing with a high level of inebriation the night before.

There is no problem with just being drunk. People understands you when your just drunk. They even pity you sometimes. When your just drunk, it’s either your quiet or otherwise loud, but all the same you’re coherent, and you make sense amidst being slurry and sluggish. You still have your marbles.

Yes there can be an unexplainable smirk in your face when your drunk, or a gloomy, emo-ish aura, and there’s a possibility that you might do something stupid, or something more stupid than normal, something you know you’ll regret, yet you still continue with it, because amidst that, all in all, you’re aware, you’re okay, you know what you’re doing, you know that that your inhibitions have been thrown out the window. You know very well that one good sleep is all you need, and you’ll laugh about it the day after. That’s okay.

What’s not okay is this, picture someone walking down the street at 2 am in the morning, gesticulating foreign gang hand signs to anyone he run across to. Shouting “Vatos Locos! Vatos Locos! Esse!”, disregarding the fact that he’s Filipino, all because he saw a portion of a mexican film before going out on the street. “Vatos Locos Esse!”