Archive for June, 2012


June 30, 2012

I’m actually guilty of forgetting how blissful it is to shoot your stare high up there. I was lucky to have experienced this again some months ago and I felt differently. It’s like watching your dead dreams burn even more brightly than when they first caught fire, and there’s a song waiting to be written somewhere there. You feel alive in that brief moment even if you’re caught up sitting on a blank page of your life. And then she found me engulfed by this moment, and I was happy to tell her how beautiful the experience was.



June 8, 2012

Honestly, I wasn’t as thrilled when I first read about their concert here in Manila. And don’t ask me why since I don’t have answers for you. Maybe because of my mood that day. Nevertheless, I’m going. It’s not for me to turn down a good friend who asked me out to be with her on that night. Too bad Jimmy won’t be in the show. Still, I hope they play “The Everlasting Gaze,” which isn’t my favorite Smashing Pumpkins song. And tees. The organizers should definitely milk us and sell band tees as souvenirs. But I don’t know if I’ll buy.


June 2, 2012

There’s something about cracked glass that creeps me out. But whenever I find one, I can’t help but stare. The patterns, they are strangely comforting. How they are like intertwined webs or how they resemble the scales of a monster you hid away from as a kid somehow gives you a thought of a safe place to stay. Then it hits you. That moment you just want to pick up a hammer and smash it to end its prolonged misery and, in the process, maybe end yours as well.

What Really Happened During the Lifehouse Meet & Greet

June 1, 2012

Two words to describe it: culture shock. Here, let me paint you a picture—the room was overflowing with, I dunno, female pheromones perhaps? And while standing in line, the girls, mostly teens, busied themselves fixing their hair, putting on makeup, and ranting about how sucky it was that the M&G didn’t allow for autograph signing. One said, “I flew straight from Cebu so sana naman meron” while another quipped, “OK lang na pawisan na sila basta tayo hindi!” All these were happening while they exchanged fan stories. Surely it didn’t help that I was the only guy out of the 15 or so in our queue. That was the awkward part. The actual shock came in when the girls I was with the photo started shrieking right after the snap of the shutter. I mean, c’mon, can’t the shrill wails wait till we’ve reached the door? I guess it’s next to impossible composing one’s self in the golden presence of rock stars. Is that it? Humor me. If I were a girl and got to French kiss Dave Grohl in the same situation, I wouldn’t let my guard down that quickly. At the very least, I’d wait for the door. But hey! That’s me. Don’t get me wrong. The experience was great—and Lifehouse was freakin’ awesome live, man! In fact, perhaps that’s what added to the already heightened excitement of the girls. Hmmm…

Could you find the thorn among the roses?
Clue: he’s an Asian guy.

* * *


If your band dishes out cheesy love songs in alternative format, those designed to wet girly undies and warm shivering hearts, it’s a challenge for the drummer to work around the dynamics of a song. Not unlike, say, in music oozing with angst where it’s easier to get away thrashing cymbals and beating the crap out of the drums and voila, you have a fucking show.

Bald man Rick right here has got chops so clean and so solid we could tell him, “Ang haba ng hair mo, teh” without abandon. And it’s interesting too how he can aptly apply power on his strokes when the flow he’s in is more often than not meant to serenade sweethearts we last met in high school.

Easily my favorite among the foreign drummers I’ve watched live.

I don’t mind getting Rickrolled by him.