Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Space Oddity

This blog would be happy. The writer is not suicidal and his epiphanies would be wrapped in a sleek gold wrapper. Brutal verbs would be kicked by his polished Wrangell’s boots and bereaved metaphors would be swallowed like an 18 inch meaty Brooklyn Pizza. My sentences would lack the usual drama so that letters could laugh at its own silliness. Punctuations will often be in exclamations and question marks would trail away in some afternoon love song.

It is March but it’s raining pink confetti of heart-shaped cut-outs like its February. I should write about an evening with my beloved and how much we enjoyed Christina Aguillera’s groove only to end under a single gray blanket, spooning. This is, after all, a humanity of love wrapped in a tight rubber condom; where males elope with men and boys shoot their girlfriends for an attempt of break-up; a world full of lovers in constant slow-motion and a dollying camera in wide full circle without a director that yells “cut.”

It is difficult to write “lightly,” to conform to the demi-gods here and satisfy their carnal lust for feast, other rituals and whatever offerings they prefer.

I should smile as I sip scotch in some dingy bar where a pony-tailed singer/guitarist hums a song written by a frustrated poet.

Understand that I am no blogger. I tell people I'm a writer because I arranged words in a blank slate to earn a living; nothing more and nothing great.

I apologize if I barraged you with my drama concoctions and senseless ruminations of my childish vexations; of how sexually and attention deprived I am. I am, after all, a child, a desolate boy in his early adolescent years trying to fight the Captain Crooks of this Neverland, armed only with my pen and a small bottle of Olay SPF15 with no pixie dusts.

I’m sorry that I can’t write fairytales like most of you do. I apologize that you discover I’m not a prince charming; for disgusting you after seeing that I’m just a pauper with only his tin cans to boast. And I’m sorry if I don’t have a thesis statement for this post because this is supposed to be a happy blog and happiness is spontaneous, yes?

And so to happy thoughts, I give you a blog entry sliding in a winding rainbow where white cotton-candy like clouds puff merrily in a clear blue sky. This blog, dressed in a colorful sequined vest paired with a flared green pants and a precariously pointed white shoes. This blog, the very same blog that squels silently as Phil Younghusband categorically declare in Twitter his most honest and noblest of intention in taking actress Angel Locsin in a dinner date.

The writer will be happy despite a two hundred peso allowance ‘till next payday. The writer will not frown despite not having decent sound bite of Nonito Donaire since Dyan Castillejo snatched him away from the waiting media. The writer will just laugh after another rejection from an eyeball. The writer will put a tattoo on his arm, an icon of a pierced heart with a word etched below that says “love.”

I will write posts in a sing-song measure; like joyous round songs; like candid rhyming cheers.

Welcome to my blog; where butterflies fluttered cheerily and tigers feed on children’s palms; where breeze of calm wind kisses sallow cheeks, gently as it caress your billowing silk-fine hair. This is, alas, a happy blog.

"Space Oddity" by David Bowie

11 reaction(s):

Kyle said...

in love na ba?hehehe

Nishiboy said...

A lot of people say that happiness is a choice. I disagree.

Désolé Boy said...

Kyle - I wish I am. But the flying spaghetti monster keeps on attacking and so I retreated.
Jap - "Happy times, whereth art though?" Is that right?

Yj said...

desolate no more...

love love this entry... :))

Mu[g]en said...

I used to think poetry is written on stanzas. Not anymore. :)

Mr. Chan said...

ang lalim :)

Anyway, be happy! :) dito lang kami! :)

Ester Yaje said...

ohhh! i am so fascinated by the imageries that you have used in this post and i eventually realized, you're right, you're a writer. yes, i admit, some phrases, words, or sentences were hard for me to digest, considering my not-so-high vocab. but your choice of words makes my mind go on imagining, thinking what was it that you're really trying to say. in the end, i found out that you just want say something about yourself and about this blog of yours. all in all, i just like this post! :)

Spiral Prince said...

I just saw this. For some reason my dashboard only shows 10 entries and doesn't update when I scroll down.

Be happy, Desole Boy, and continue showering us with glitter and cotton and butterflies and rainbows and tiger cubs. This is your stage, and we are here to appreciate. :)

KikomaxXx said...

medyo nagnosebleed ako dun.. pero parang inlababo sana.. wahehhe

Papa Jay said...

Hmm. Fantastic use of words. :)

Some hard-earned lessons in my life indicate that happiness is a choice. We just always choose to be helpless about it.

All the best to you and your beloved. I'd love to read about that some time.

SPLICE said...

Reading this, I can imagine how much you wanted to scrape the sugar coating off a bitter vegetable, but deciding in the end not to because they are both part of the space oddity you are having :)

Nice post, and a pensive one at that!


Copyright © 2010 Désolé Boy | Blogger Templates by Splashy Templates | Free PSD Design by Amuki