Pictionary: My Bloody Wall

This is a long delayed post. I finished painting my wall weeks ago but I didn't get the chance to shoot it until yesterday. I wanted to capture it with natural light.

It's not noticeable in the pictures but the color of that column at the right is different from the rest of the wall. I painted that part a few weeks before I finished the entire wall. I originally planned to cover the rest of the wall with this gorgeous black and off white, victorian wallpaper that I saw at True Value but I thought one roll wouldn't be enough and two would just be too damn expensive. So now I have a solid red wall which reminds me of Mr. Big's. He didn't quite like his "communist China" wall though while I really like mine.

This sitting area of the room needs a few more furnishings; a floor lamp is at the top of the list followed by a bean bag or a small ottoman and a rug.

Circles

Homeless Chic at Home

Off topic: This is an old shirt that I wear at home especially to bed. It's perfectly, naturally distressed. I can't get over how comfortable and Rodarte-ish it is.

This antique, wooden sofa (?) is from my housemate H.

By the way, have you noticed the interesting shift of interest from fashion design to interior design? I definitely have. I think it's a sensible transition during these days of fashion this, fashion that. I personally have been more inclined to visit furniture shops lately than clothing stores. I'm not turning my back against fashion, no. But I like how I've recently developed a special liking for interior design and architecture. I like to think it broadens my creative sensibilities.

literarybulimia@gmail.com

The (Gay) Social Network

You know what I hate? Having to go back to square one---but hopefully with a lesson or two in mind.

After weeks of neglecting my my homo-tastic online account, it has recently been revived and now back in business. It's one of the things I hate love hate love hate love hate after a break-up falling out.

Most of the time, it's an eye-roll fiesta what with the bullshit 99% of these guys say. And don't even get me started with those pictures where they're "smizing" like drop-outs from the Tyra Banks School of Modelling. Isn't it funny how everyone wants to be a model and/or photographer these days? Yeah, it's fun and laughter at times but there are moments when you just want to shoot the computer and hope the bullet comes shooting out of his screen.

You had me at 'hello', you lost me at 'sex po tau'.

There are a number of hot guys out there, sure. But a lot of them should really just shut up or leave their profiles with the basic information. Otherwise, they end up proving to you that God, after all, is fair. If he is too fond of replacing the 's' with a 'z' I'd rather get some Zs than talk to him. Like, zeriously.

Also, cut the crap with the "I'm just a simple guy" statement. It's not cute. It's pretentious in most cases. That sensitive guy front ain't gon' fly wit' me! Oh, and you know how they send you a message with unnecessary formality introducing themselves courteously and tell you poignant thoughts about love and hope? Aww... No.

OkIfeelbetteraboutmyselfnowbye.

literarybulimia@gmail.com

Heart Under Repair

Because I'm such an expert at love, err, heartbreaks, let me break down the four stages of a break-up/falling out as I understand it. Notice how many times I used the word 'break'?

1. Hurt- This is where the impact is the most methinks. It starts with denial. This also entails a careful assessment of how the situations were handled. Self-pity is also pretty common. Everything is a hot damn mess bound to be filled with tears and maybe even alcohol. Emotional extravaganza, anyone?
2. Bitterness-"I'm ok. I mean, I'm happier without him. What the hell was I thinking?! I deserve someone much better." Riiight. Try not to shoot those lovers canoodling in public.
3. Acceptance- You're slowly starting to open up (Read: Slutty McJizz. JK). Gradually, you realize that you'll actually be alright, if not truly better, without him. These are the last days in heartbreak rehab. All of a sudden, there's an abundance of very eligible guys. A little sting may still be felt everytime you remember him but it's not the kind that lingers.
4. Apathy or Friendship- You know longer care about the "Who Dies Miserably" game. In fact, there may even be a genuine care for this ex or former love interest. Wishes of his demise are replaced by sincere apologies or friendly greetings. This stage though is the hardest to come to. Some people get stuck in either of the last three ones which is really horrible and one of the reasons why love is so fucked up.

The worst effect of getting your heart broken is it exhausts you of your ability to trust. It makes you lose faith and could possibly leave you with a cat, anguish ridden Facebook shout-outs, and a table for one in your favorite cafe. Yet, here we are thinking it's worth another shot.

literarybulimia@gmail.com

Hardest Hit

It's heartbreaking that for the first time when you're willingly, even gladly, giving up the freedom that you've been so used to enjoying just to be with this person for the rest of your life, you realize it's still simply not enough.

It's funny how he questioned my faith and commitment when now... this.

He's right. I've been an emotional wreck lately only holding on to a promise that a part of me wishes he never made. I've been a mess and will probably be so in the next couple of days. But I appreciate his honesty no matter how much it hurts. I just wish we talked about it personally.

I know he'll probably read this just like the way he reads the rest of my entries that practically declare I'll slash my wrist for him. The thought of him constantly getting a peek into my mind and heart has sometimes discouraged me to talk about it here. It's unfair that he gets these updates whereas I would barely get a text from him for days and at times I'm left in the dark. "Faith," I said to myself. But this is my blog. My turf. He, or anyone for that matter, is free to make assumptions. I, on the other hand, am just being honest and I do not intend to censor myself to make a desirable impression on people.

This means I get to keep Christmas. Uhm, happy holidays?

Love really does fuck you up, doesn't it? But I can't say I'm surprised. Logic has been nagging me for some time now but I dismissed it and chose to be hopeful, faithful. And you know what? I don't regret it.

literarybulimia@gmail.com

Two Hearts

It's been crazy. You know when you're in the middle of a laugh and suddenly it hits you, and you feel your cheeks slightly deflate, your smile awkwardly disappearing?

The past two weeks have seen the emotional whirlwind that I've been in. But I'm not alone apparently.

I got out of church to find 6 missed calls and 1 message on my phone. I have to be honest. I wasn't surprised. But I was upset naturally.

She sat on the couch recalling what had occured while I was listening intently. Seeing a tear on her sleeve and bruises on both her arms crushed me. I thought about revenge. But fortunately, we're better than that. I know how trampled she was but she barely cried. And when she did, I sat closer and only caressed her head. Embracing her seemed more meaningful but I thought we'd both just break down.

I know she'll get pass this. Maybe not soon, but it should only get better from here. She deserves much, much better.

As for me, well, no amount of shopping, going out and other debauchery kept me from thinking about one person. I see a nose with a "Jewish bump" and I remember him. I know. I know.

Oh, I don't know.

Anyway, here's one of the songs that I have on repeat lately.



Faith. Hope. Love. That's all. Good night!

literarybulimia@gmail.com

True (Rainbow) Colors

Touching.



Right now, there's only one person whose acceptance and understanding I'm really hoping for.

literarybulimia@gmail.com

D Day

Attending fashion week was my way of renewing my commitment to fashion. Today, I re-affirmed my commitment to health and fitness. While everyone else spent their day remembering loved ones who passed away, I stayed home whipping up meals.

It has been two months since I last set foot in the gym. So I decided to detoxify today. No rice. No meat.

For breakfast, I had what I eat pretty much everyday; oatmeal with a little sugar, a banana, and Milo with coffee and cream. The chocolate drink and oatmeal combo helps speed up my metabolism.

For lunch, I prepared a salad with lettuce, arugula, singkamas/jicama and tomatoes dressed with vinaigrette and a sprinkling of just a little bit of cheese on top. I had it with orange slices and pineapple juice. It would have been a really refereshing meal had I not put too much dressing. My homemade vinaigrette was literally dripping from my chin. I got a little queazy afterwards.

Dinner was much more enjoyable. I had mashed potatoes, corn on a cob and egg salad with pineapple juice. I cooked/made everything except for the gravy.

I also tried to jog this evening but it won't stop raining so I decided to just go home and sweat it out indoors. Crazy dancing anyone?

I should do this more often. Nothing beats that lightness after getting rid of useless crap from your body.

literarybulimia@gmail.com

PFW SS 2011

Honestly, at first, I was thinking "What the hell am I doing here?" Then half-naked models strut down the runway.

SMX

My Philippine Fashion Week "debut" was so full of hunger and lining up that at the end of the shows, which was around 11PM, I was ready to devour a whole pack of gum just to have something to digest besides my own intestines. I felt like a real model then.

Rommel, Erin, moi

We arrived around 4:30PM just in time for the Junjun Cambe show followed by Lito Perez's. The former's collection was quite good but it's sad how the PR people didn't even bother to fill some of the empty front and second row seats. Kelly Cutrone does not approve!

Tokyo Cafe

I went with Rommel and of course Erin who naturally knew a lot of people at the shows. He introduced us to the fun (and flirty? lol) Gabbie Sarenas who is also a fashion designer.

This was around 6PM. My next meal was around 1AM at Makati Avenue.

Me and Gabbie

 
Attending these fashion shows is really not an easy feat, especially for plebs like us (excluding Gabbie) who have to register and stand in line to get in.

Non-Front Row

It's surprising. I never really expected that much people to flock SMX. I got a little scared for my life at the Penshoppe show because it felt like the bleachers were about to collapse. Penshoppe, by the way, is going for a Parisian summer next year. A lot of the items really reminded me of Mango. Are they targeting a new market segment? It's an interesting shift.

What we mainly came for was the Visions and Trends Show which our friend Xernan Orticio is a part of. My favorites are Bo Parcon (Goth  and grey!), Kermit Tesoro (McQueen inspired?), Don Protasio (The shoes are fantastic!), Xernan Orticio (Amazing construction!) and this other one (whose name I completely forgot) who showed Pucci-colored catsuits. The rest? Meh or utterly gauche methinks.

As for the models, it was great seeing Charlene Almarvez in the flesh but the best catwalk-er would have to be Ria Bolivar, followed closely by Grendel Alvarado. Best abs goes to Carlo Adorador.

Those are the combat boots in the big, black bag I'm talking about in my last post.

After the shows, friends and some acquaintances were egging us to come with them to Cubao X but I was simply too friggin' tired and hungry for that. So Erin and I just went to Makati Avenue ang pigged out. We're not models after all. But let me tell you this, my being famished the entire time allowed me to breathe better in those pants.

literarybulimia@gmail.com