Atheists and Foxholes
There are no atheists in foxholes. I'd call on whomever might be listening if mortar shells were falling on my head. It's when the bombs stop dropping that we spiritual mercenaries shed our cloaks of counterfeit faith and go back to living as if there will be no one to judge us at the end of our days.
Alcohol. My long lost love. Why did I ever leave you?
Villains? Lemme tell you about villains. The most horrible things are not done by people who are evil but by those who are hurt.
I hate bubbles in my nail polish.
Writing and Fucking
Some writers say they enjoy writing. What's up with that? Writing isn't like fucking, where you can enjoy every moment: the initial dilating of your pupils as your senses zoom into the object of your arousal, the quickening of the blood as anticipation builds up, the gentle caress turning into clawing hunger, the battle for dominance on the bed or on the floor or on the kitchen counter, the howling madness pouring into your brain as the last shred of your humanity crawls out the door and the beast takes over, the apocalyptic release, and then the Zen tranquility of post-coital bliss. No, man, writing isn't like fucking. Writing is like wading through shit until you find a diamond.
On College Dares
When I was in college, I jumped off a building and into a pile of gravel on a dare. I realize now that that was utterly stupid. I should've asked for money before I jumped.
Homo sapiens was born naked, clawless, and fangless into a cruel and violent world. He wasn't very fast. He wasn't very strong. And he wasn't very tough. All he had going for him was a pair of clever hands connected to an imaginative brain and a heart full of ambition. But that was enough. Despite the odds, the ability to learn and to adapt made him the dominant animal on the planet. It galls me the way some of us still cling to superstition.
I have to use the words "nihilism" and "Nietzsche" in conversations more. Maybe throw in "anomie" and "Camus" and "apotheosis" too. So people will think I'm deep, you know?
Nihilism is an effective form of cerebral exercise. It forces you to cut different pathways through your brain. It makes you question everything you've been conditioned to believe in. At some point though, you have to grow up and move on. Or else you're going to be another Nietzschean asshole. Or a supervillain.
On Rich Folks
Whenever we visit my brother's earthly remains at the Manila Memorial Park, I always take a contemplative walk among the beautiful and silent mausoleums. Boy, those rich folks sure know how to live, huh?
A hero forgives and walks away. A villain strikes where it will hurt most. Still deciding on what role I shall play.
I will whine, moan, rant, rage, whimper, beg, fuss, sulk, crawl, cuss, grope, scream, and groan but I will not apologize for what I am.
As I figure it, the only way God can make up for the shit he's thrown at me in this life is by making me a rockstar with Leviathan's cock in my next life.
On Alcohol Again
Friends will betray you, lovers will abandon you, your children will bury you, and the universe will hate you throughout your short life. But alcohol will always be there. I'm going out to get wasted.
Hello, world. You're still there. I'm still alive. Well, screw that. I'm going back to bed.
The first ever reason I started writing was because I bullshitted a lot as a kid. Now, bullshitting wasn't a noble endeavor even in my youth so I figured I should just call them fiction instead of lies.
Getting Too Strange
Dear Squid: Curb your ego. Sheath your hatred. You're getting too strange.
On Villains Again
Hatred frees us from guilt, from love, and from despair. Darth Vader mode.
"Bahala na" is the stupidest phrase our ancestors ever came up with.
Let us prey.
Sometimes I wish I can be a woman for about a year so I'll know how it feels to possess all that sexual power. And tits. Wield those babies around and you can bring empires to their fucking knees.
Memento, homo, quia fucking pulvis es, ya know.
A writer reveals both too little and too much.
Ignorance is indeed bliss. But then, if you're anything like me, you can't help but prod fresh wounds, scratch at the scabs, see if it still hurts, turn over every rock and jab at every hole to find out what lives there, look inward and follow the path of the unrighteous just to see how deep your own heart of darkness goes and how much of a monster you really are. It goes without saying that I don't sleep well at nights.
I am more appreciated on the Interlulz than I am in my real job. Too bad the Interlulz don't pay me anything.
On Depression Again
I'm gonna complain a lot and then I'm gonna sulk in bed and then I'm gonna throw tantrums and then I'm gonna curse a lot and then I'm going to walk around the house kicking things because I'm depressed.
On Depression Yet Again
Today I think I shall whine a lot.
PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PEKPEK