Monthly Archives: July 2007

song_sometimes you can’t make it on your own

i had an epiphany with U2 one day during college. i was hanging out with a friend. we were sharing a pair of earphones, listening to U2 songs. then Stuck in a Moment came on, and it seemed everything—the falling leaves, a car passing by, a couple strolling along, a plastic spoon sliding off a plate —moved with a rhythm a bit slower than usual. and then i listened to the words, and i couldn’t stop myself from crying. i started to write on the back of my notebook… years after, i am still finding myself stumped over U2 songs. here’s one.

Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own

Tough, you think you’ve got the stuff
You’re telling me and anyone
You’re hard enough

You don’t have to put up a fight
You don’t have to always be right
Let me take some of the punches
For you tonight

Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don’t have to do it alone

And it’s you when I look in the mirror
And it’s you when I don’t pick up the phone
Sometimes you can’t make it on your own

We fight all the time
You and I…that’s alright
We’re the same soul
I don’t need…I don’t need to hear you say
That if we weren’t so alike
You’d like me a whole lot more

Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don’t have to go it alone

And it’s you when I look in the mirror
And it’s you when I don’t pick up the phone
Sometimes you can’t make it on your own

I know that we don’t talk
I’m sick of it all
Can – you – hear – me – when – I –
Sing, you’re the reason I sing
You’re the reason why the opera is in me…

Where are we now?
I’ve still got to let you know
A house still doesn’t make a home
Don’t leave me here alone…

And it’s you when I look in the mirror
And it’s you that makes it hard to let go
Sometimes you can’t make it on your own
Sometimes you can’t make it
The best you can do is to fake it
Sometimes you can’t make it on your own

spider-pig, spider-pig


“Spider Pig, Spider Pig, Does Whatever a Spider Pig Does… Can he swing from a Web? No, he can’t, he’s a Pig. Look Out… He is a Spider Pig.”


“The pig’s actual name is Plopper. The packaging on the “Who’s a Good Piggy?” toy by Macfarlane Toys confirms this. On one of the The Simpsons Movie’s TV Spots, Marge says to Homer, “You can take Spider-Pig with you”, to which Homer replies, “He’s not Spider-Pig anymore… he’s Harry Plopper.” The camera then shows the Pig wearing round glasses and a scar very similar to Harry Potter’s.” – wikipedia


i can’t wait to watch homer simpson kid around with his spider-pig.


a certain email

a certain email’s subject was spongebob pinoy-style. i thought it was a parody of sorts, similar to the jollibee and mascots porn that used to take up bandwidth space and conversation time. but i was wrong. what saddened me are two facts: 1) this photo is being circulated in the web 2) the sender had the gall to find this photo outrageously funny. i’m no doddering grandma here, and i hate to sound like a struggling born-again girl, but a little sensitivity wouldn’t hurt. a sleeping man inside a rolled-up foam on the roadside deserves empathy and aid. this sort of mentality is sickening.


oh so random

i can’t help but post these random thoughts from a colleague. she sat on my work chair and pretended to be me, typing these phrases on a work document. if you’d look closely enough, you’d see snatches of wisdom here. that is, if you can stop snorting for a minute.

Hi, I’m Eva. I really am. And I will always be treated like Eva. You better believe it, babeh! You better believe it.

So, what’s up, Eva?

I don’t know.

Am I Eva?

Only she knows. Only she.


The World on our shoulders.

How do we get it off?

It’s too heavy.

Kulang kasi ako sa exercise.


Bakit siya ganyan?

Singit ng singit sa usapang hindi naman kanya. Tapos, tatawa nalang.

Siguro, dahil kyut siya. At alam niya na totoo.

Sa bagay. Kyut talaga.

Sige na nga.


i used to be afraid of the water. when i was a kid, i would stay by the beach shore, scoop water from the wavelets with my toy pail and wet my hair. we would arrive at the house, my yaya resigned to rinsing sand off my hair.

in high school, i got a D in swimming, while most of my friends got high grades. i was pressuring myself to perfect the freestyle that i got cramps during our P.E. finals. that, plus the fact that my friends and classmates were either fast learners or have gotten past the basics in swimming in their younger years.

now, i totally love to swim. i so suck at swimming that i enrolled in swimming lessons. i spend my sunday afternoons with my very patient instructor. it took me several sessions to finally have the rhythm for freestyle. i also found out that the breaststroke was easy to learn. i got so giddy, too, when i finally learned to do the back float. what helped me relaxed while doing the back float was my repeating this line: lie back and the sea will hold you. and it did.

my instructor also taught me to do the dog paddle. this is where i truly suck, and this was where i got amazed over my instructor’s brimming-with-love teaching technique. he wouldl lead me towards the deeper part of the pool (gulp, 7 feet, i think) where i’d find myself clinging for life onto the tiles. then he’d have me let go of my hold, and he’d let me sink. when i hit the floor, that’s when i have to kick against it, and do the arm and leg motions. he would count how many times i would resurface, and when he reaches five, he’d let me rest. this is one of the times i realized that pool water in that place is potable (ugh), and this is one of the times i truly thank god for not letting me have leg cramps.

now that i got myself tattooed, i am not allowed to swim for a month. oh me oh my, it’s worst than being grounded.

my struggle with swimming is excruciating. the waters seem to want me to fight for their love, especially when i began the lessons. now, i’m starting to think i’ve won them over.

i can’t wait to swim again.

First lessons
Philip Booth

Lie back, daughter, let your head
be tipped back in the cup of my hand.
Gently, and I will hold you. Spread
your arms wide, lie out on the stream
and look high at the gulls. A dead-
man’s-float is face down. You will dive
and swim soon enough where this tidewater
ebbs to the sea. Daughter, believe
me, when you tire on the long thrash
to your island, lie up, and survive.
As you float now, where I held you
and let go, remember when fear
cramps your heart what I told you:
lie gently and wide to the light-year
stars, lie back, and the sea will hold you.