drenched in the blimp of mystery, i'm still in the midst of inquisition. my GP told me not to speculate on anything until you've got some concrete confirmations. my energy is deflated. i can't even have my bloods checked. it's just too scary to be growled at again by the bespectacled phlebotomist from the cricket playing world of Brian Lara. the sight of ladies with their lovely bumps, like the bomb that's about to explode, makes my clock tick fast with tenacity.
over the years i've tried not to dwell on the meandering murmurings of actual blabbermouths. there are opinions and there are opinions. until the philippines becomes an economic powerhouse, westerners pervading notions of our people, that of condescension, would not change. we can read and write, solve equations, pursue academic aspirations as the best of these anglicans but the stereotype of a filipina not only as the one purported in oxford dictionary but that of "tingtong," on little britain is bewildering and hurtful. first world arrogance sometimes streams beyond understanding.
searching for some enlightening celebrity bloggers in the past weeks, i've bumped into a few interesting ones. it's lovely to discover that ms lea composes intricate sentences and maintains three blog sites. there's ella, a second cousin to the prince of wales, whose articles appear in the highly-partisan daily mail and counts designer Valentino, among others as family friend, has a portal on her list of written works. growing up rich makes finding a publisher way, way easier. pretty faces with their blogs have much more impact on the comments box the way non-celebs like you and me get brush aside. we check out kooki's because she is familiar and the megastar's daughter and she gets hundreds of comments. it's always the same people posting comments on my friends' blogs. other pals prefer the silence but in no way less supportive.
a few days ago, i was pondering whether mr. kiedis has a blog or i'll just settle for d navarro's ravings. as expertly cracking google didn't lead me to the kiedis' prose, i'll just find the time to get a copy of his bio. i've been meaning to acquire scar tissue since it came out in '04 but i was lounging in the cliches surrounding time and its essence. i'm not even listening to any tunes these days but kiedis words and lyrics always haunt me. so do with bellamy of muse, but the devon rocker doesn't blog either.
today, the issue of deep-seated emotional pain perpetuates its resonance. those walls. those gates. the service. the family. the friends. the tears. dealing with these stirring pathos twice waves through the fervor of intense hurt (kiedis photo from barnes & noble).
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