tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15333018722892605962012-02-16T19:30:21.480+08:00my rants and raves about the monotony of existencetawaholicnoreply@blogger.comBlogger151100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533301872289260596.post-54247713097057634672009-02-16T08:28:00.005+08:002009-02-16T08:53:30.469+08:00

I miss the beach.My girls and the boys.Drinking rhum with ice tea.Games.Spin the bottle.Jamming with a guitar.Playing punk rock on stereo.Keeping our hands warm around a bonfire.Talking life.Watching the sunrise.A morning swim.Laughter.Hot soup for breakfast on a long table.Beauty in the simple things.

tawaholicnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533301872289260596.post-69429107514287401772007-10-17T23:22:00.001+08:002007-10-17T23:43:48.763+08:00

Opportunities foregone are lost forever. God, I'm so remorseful of all those that I've let pass without making so much as an inch of effort to just try. I could've been an apprentice of a great sculptor whose works have been exhibited in reputable institutions - like the freakin' national museum! But my idiot self sadly let go the opportunity. You know why? Coz i was chicken shit! My stuck up,

tawaholicnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533301872289260596.post-57475050889909613502007-10-12T20:22:00.000+08:002007-10-12T20:32:48.609+08:00

I wrote two love letters today. One for asking forgiveness, the other for letting go. I've been carrying a whole load of baggage, and I hadn't even noticed until I let them go. Who knows? Karma might be nicer to me this time. hehehWhat I pray for the most is peace of mind. I hope I'll come closer to that now that I've come clean with the skeletons I've been keeping in this dark closet of mine.

tawaholicnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533301872289260596.post-6794892890414085632007-09-26T03:09:00.000+08:002007-09-26T03:31:19.669+08:00

I've got dumb, crippling issues. Here's my confession: I hate it when people look over my shoulder when I'm making sketches or drawing. I hate having to endure whatever they have to say about my work, coz then I'd have to think of what to say in reply, and I'm not sure I'm any good at taking compliments. And to think I took up Fine Arts for two years! Maybe that's the reason why I didn't

tawaholicnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533301872289260596.post-34453034457919059362007-09-26T02:42:00.000+08:002007-09-26T03:33:27.555+08:00

I love this painting. It says it all.

tawaholicnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533301872289260596.post-55514337628916998432007-09-20T23:34:00.000+08:002007-09-21T00:19:47.499+08:00

When you read a good story, you just keep reading. You turn your phone off, put yourself in seclusion and forget the rest of the world... until you finish reading that story. It's been a while since I've read a book that made me wanna just sit and escape into my imagination. It's surreal, nostalgic and melancholy mood affects me the way the warmth of your own bed unties the knots in your aching

tawaholicnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533301872289260596.post-61134048889042721062007-07-14T22:49:00.000+08:002007-07-14T22:53:20.132+08:00

I love in silence. All truth told in silence. No one knows what hides beneath this hooded cape. The truth is that which I never show. I long for things warm and sincere. I long for the greatest love. My scarred heart yearns for all things good and worthy of reciprocity. Love, evermore. Friendship of the purest kind. A mother's embrace that gives relief to heartbreak. A father's return

tawaholicnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533301872289260596.post-78374791775237342672007-07-14T22:37:00.000+08:002007-07-14T22:49:11.667+08:00

An evening of quiet solitudeSearching, wandering in the depthsof this tangled web of mindoblivious in the melancholy hum of silence.I yearn for lovethat flows like the riverQuicksilver escaping these wanting fingersIntangible as the windUnable to grasp and hold nearA longing greater than love itself.

tawaholicnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533301872289260596.post-82540411101848163852007-04-11T23:07:00.000+08:002008-11-14T06:13:55.635+08:00

so i'm back to the velvet underground... back to the gypsy that i was..hew.. hew.. you see your gypseeeh...stevie nicks, man! her voice personifies unaffected cool and passion combined. i love the way she sang those melancholy lyrics from the seventies. i've never really paid much attention to her music before, but now it excites me just thinkin' about putting my earphones and turning my iPod on

tawaholicnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533301872289260596.post-85582429912867805612007-04-11T00:50:00.000+08:002008-11-14T06:13:55.649+08:00

Life does play tricks on us mortals. I was just thinking how infatuation disappears within a blink of an eye, leaving you saying to yourself: "What the hell happened there?!" You fantasize and you pine for somebody for weeks at a time (months even), thinking about the future and holding hands and romantic revelations... and in just one ordinary night (nothing special, mind you,) you're driving

tawaholicnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533301872289260596.post-60332352312743607912007-03-22T18:36:00.000+08:002007-03-22T18:44:25.311+08:00

If you were to make a kick ass soundtrack for the summer...

tawaholicnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533301872289260596.post-43771686017654165732007-03-20T17:38:00.000+08:002007-03-20T17:50:47.860+08:00

The heat is on! Hell yeah! So, what are you gonna do when the sun burns right through your skin? You go crazy. Now there's an idea... Do what you like. Find some summer lovin' and kiss somebody before you go permanently mad. Jump in the sizzling pool of escapists and get as much good/bad/fantastic memories while you still can - while your knees can still hold yourself upright, while your back

tawaholicnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533301872289260596.post-91990218656944512052007-02-19T20:08:00.000+08:002007-02-19T20:26:57.543+08:00

I was driving to Calinan yesterday afternoon at around 4:30, all sad and confused, when I was able to witness a spectacular view of the Mt. Apo and some beautiful evergreen rice paddies that lay below. I was feeling the moment while listening to U2's "where the streets have no name," on my iPod and lo! and behold! I had an epiphany - a moment of clarity! Suddenly I knew the answer to my three

tawaholicnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533301872289260596.post-68890178470990770132007-02-07T04:40:00.000+08:002007-09-15T22:43:11.113+08:00

tawaholicnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533301872289260596.post-90246260348857605722007-02-07T02:06:00.000+08:002007-02-07T02:42:15.309+08:00

I'm such an insomniac!Well, I'm not sure if that's the perfect word for my disposition. Its not that I can't sleep, its more like I don't want to. I'd sit around my computer and smoke a zillion cigarettes, and already its 2am! I've been so out of it lately that my face is starting to do crazy things in protest!(-) I've developed a new breed of eyebags that one could use for storing what-nots

tawaholicnoreply@blogger.com1