STEPHEN KING MANNY PACQUIAO BOXES

A world famous writer and a world famous boxer.

Subject and predicate agreements. Simple sentences with verbs, nouns, pronouns, adjectives and so forth. If somehow your peers, your friends, your mates find you a little more silent than them, they would eventually ask something from you. Like write for you or speak for you, in behalf of whoever.

Say they needed to write something on paper and they can't find it in themselves to do so, the first thing they'd expect from you is a question.  "Why, don't you have hands?" But you didn't ask it.  Something that might puzzle them knowing that they can really do it by themselves. Their reasoning.  Because their grammar is not good. They somehow get confused with words and sentences right away. They might even find it funny.  They somehow find it funny to form letters into words into sentences into paragraphs.  Paragraphs that could have made more sense for them. They know it. That is why they try to make you do it for them.   And since they still can't find it in themselves to do so, they'd eventually give you that sad look persuading you to do the writing yourself for them. 

That is how it is with letters down here.  And one of the most important pieces of writing are called documents.  More so when you are at school and office environments. One needs to be more formal.  Maybe because you had to persuade the reader for something you need. The respect they needed and the time it will take for both to satisfy each other's need.  Mutual.  To move on with their lives.

The writer and the reader. 

On my freshman year In Architecture School,   we were taught to write more legibly or write architecturally. One might really find it a little absurd.  But that's how it is.   Something I wish to share with my peers, the wonders of it.  But it was fun.  Imagine writing letters & numbers on Graphing Papers, you know those papers with graphs which really are just squares, or lines, horizontal and vertical with 0.5 mm spacing?  They look more like squares for crossword puzzles. 

Graphics 1.  It wasn’t called Graphics 101. Was it?  Write it, print it, mark it, however you want to call it.  It is ink on paper.  Pen and the paper.  A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z.   0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9. Letters and numbers.  They are all written in caps, in capitals.  That is how it is.  You’d find it easy at first and smile.  And as you do so, you’d find out eventually who’s got excellent pen grips, I mean your classmates with more neat penmanship.  Who’s got the better grasp on mind and hand command?  All in the name of neatness.  You need to be more careful making it proper.  We were instructed not to go outside the box.  I got past it.

At this age, I must say, now you can make your own boxes with numbers.  You may have to shade and erase some of the boxes. Call it ACROSS & DOWN, empty boxes with clues and make your own CROSSWORD PUZZLES for everyone you hold dearly.   It’s like a sport.  You can cheat or teach your way in, find references, ask somebody else, ask yourself. Everyone in the family can join in.

THE ADVENTURES OF COUNT LANGUAGE AT READING

Among the very first things I had to learn in school was Language, Reading and Math.  It's not Mathematics or Arithmetic..we only called it simply as Math.  'Math' with emathics now makes you think of "atik-atiks"  or something "untrue or pretentious" for lack of better words to deduce,  But yeah, if you have do it again, would you prefer not to go to school and stay at home instead?  What do you think would become of you?  Do you think you'd turn out fine anyway?  Do you think it'll make you feel much brighter or smarter if you never really have gone to school to learn something?

What do you think?  Would it be better just to stay at home and learn eveything without formal education?  And why should there be phases or levels to undergo?  Will it be possible these days to not go to school anymore?  "There's internet now, hey ... I don't need to go to school anymore!"  We only need games , games, games , games...Yahoo, laptop laptop laptop, computers..computers , internet and google....blah blah blah

HOW ELSE? ARE YOU A FAKE NEWS?

Yes, how else should I treat the outside.  I've been from the outside long enough to know which I think within me knows what is real and what's not.  And it really us such a shame if your businesses seem to keep or get entangled or dragged along with it.   And it'll just keep happening like clockwork like a robot, a machine.  And so which or how do we know which is fake really?  which really is authentic?  Which is really original these days?   When you seem to have seen how it could be faked?

Or maybe fake is a strong word.  How about that feeling alone.  That feel.  Hahaha.  What am I talking about?

THE SUBJECT IS WHINING: BROTHER SIGHER, SISTER LAUGHTER, DUST MAGNETIC SUPER FLYER

Blame.  Lay blame.  It isn't easy. Just do it.  Do it later. Keep silent. It could be more valid.  Don't move.  Be cool.  Chill.  Relax.  Take it easy.  Be smart.  Stop whining.  Sing.  One, two, three, four.

My brother has this habit of  leaving things behind for me to clean. His clothes, cigarette butts, plates, kitchen work, homework.  At least that's how it seems to me.  I seem to keep seeing his shit these days more than before because I stay at home these days more than ever before. I seem to notice this disarray more, because I now have this preoccupation' or sort of like a goal, to try to keep things in order as much as possible. My other brother seems to do the same too. And it does not really feel good to keep seeing things this way however much you keep reminding them to not do so. I have to talk about it.  It's not good. It feels like an insult. My father is not really that type of person.  I do admire my father's neat ways, his tidiness. I may have gotten it from him, my sort of like this discipline.  My mother is too.  But not with her paperwork.  My mother's paperwork seem to keep baffling me. There's too much of it everywhere.   But there's always a time to keep things in order and there's a time to wreck things.  It could either be for fun or for the heck of it. Don't get me wrong, I must be doing the same as well in other ways much more dirt, slime, grime, germs. 

Maybe that's why we needed housekeepers to assist us with this practice. Every household seem to always have this predicament. to tend to each other's homes so as not to affect or cause bad behavior, bad sceneries, bad outlooks,  bad outputs.  Does it follow?  Or do you follow where I'm heading?  I don't want to complain about it and I don't really want to be the whiny kind.  It's like having to keep expecting every scenery to be in order and proper. It's like having to expect things to be at least cleaner than before.   But will this expectation only bring emptiness? Will this practice only bring more hatred for that  expectation, more arguments, more disagreements, more insecurities?  Will it bring more laughter, pain and tears? Will it only bring us into chaos, making me sick, making me ill with contempt? Like there's always the dirt, the dust, the shit that is always fed in front of you in your face everyday,  in more ways more than ever.  And you wondered why it keeps  happening like clockwork.  Like the scabs that hurt your skins,  the mosquitoes that suck your blood, like the rat that gnaws, the cockroach that crawl with antennas wandering about.  Bugs flying here and there.

I'd rather want to listen for the birds chirping perching outside. in the early morning air,  grab a pillow and sleep back into my own fictional wilderness with blankets swallowing the whole of me.

But my brothers' filth drags me along.  I didn't really needed to be like them. I didn't have to be the one my parents seem to keep running to for this . I refuse , and resist.  It's gone way overboard!  And it's time for a revolt! My own revolution.  This kind of revolution happens.  Shit happens too. It does not stop.  "Let it all be" you say. I'd let if you'd only stop whining when I do so.  Somebody will have to catch my "letting it all be" without my hand in helping so.  And should I care who gets the fall? And would you catch them when they all fall?  I guess I will have to  keep doing my secret smile for whomever will get my point.  Let's see who really needs me.  Need.  It's just your need for me. Your need of me. I'll have to get rid myself of those who needs, would need, and needed me. But sooner than expected , a relative, a neighbor intervenes. Or the housekeeper, who inadvertently became the one who always took the fall.  Or that housekeeper who tends your lawns, washes your clothes, cooks your food when your parents can't handle it.  Who inadvertenly knew more of your family more than your relatives, more than your neighbors, who eventually could betray and gossip about you, and spies on your every move,  almost made your family a little more predictable. Learning your ways, observing your ways, you faults, listening to every one of you quarrel about, fighting about something.  Made money out of your every mistakes.  And brought them wondering why this  happens to a household, a blessed household like yours.  And they won't really care that much.  Their reasoning may have become standard.  Such is that service deal. They too have become predictable as well.  Too polite to a fault, to earn something afterwards, the awkwardness of it, and the fun that comes and goes.  It's like a blind spot.  Every household's blind spot.  Now we're down to for that urge again. Work, work, work.  It's just work, work, work all over  and over again.  And you'd constantly will have to keep seeing about it, hearing about it. Because it seems you cared more about it.  About that perfect notion of the good.  It seems  you cared more than them. Why do you keep doing so?  And we're back to it again.  Eventually. Drag me along sister, and think along sitter.  This could very well be the most awesome ride you're gonna run into.  Hold on to something and there's no stopping this.  Even the traffic lights would not have enough colors to control this speeding through for the drive.  The number of traffic light colors will never be enough to control the unmechanical drives of your well beings, your awkward pursuits, your undeniable unsatisfactions. 

Fart on.

It may just be a written word.

EAVE DROPS ABOVE ROAD STRIPES

It was really kind of silly but is fun at the same time. How we somehow have made it out off some of the most odd & frightening places unscathed. But I meant to say that to impress the devil out of me. Out of that need to release the energy that can or may prove to be useless anyway. But there is this thing about eaves dropping. Is that a metaphor, simile, a figure of speech, an irony of some sort? But how is it that we have to keep eavesdropping? I know how I understand the word "Eaves". We do somehow refer to it as that thing that borders the roofs of our houses, the roofing, the rooftop of our shelters, abodes, dwellings, or for some overthinking folks, the head of our houses. That roof entity that may somehow have to be featured on Roof Framing Plans, details drawn from some Drafter, Draughter, or a Draftsman. For some definite purpose, the finite purpose of structuring, making, creating something out of something. Somehow they always looked the same as those cornices you see around ceiling corners. They could either be convex or concave, sloped, angled, or just plain straight. Cyma Recta, Cyma Reversa whatever. Gutters, flashing, gutters flashing. And it could be done out of timber, steel, or concrete. It could be waterproofed to last , painted, or shaped oddly to your own preferences. Water canals that catch rainwater, enabling it to flow to smoother regions, down the steel or PVC spouts, catch basins, and down into the sewer canals. The cycle of dropping eaves.

SOCIAL MEDIA CRACKS, POTHOLES AND LOOPHOLES

Before the heydays of computers, you should realize that before your so called notion of the heydays of computers, there was a different kind of a set of heydays of computers.  The real big difference is that the innovations that were only dreamed before are now very possible.  Before when we were kids (the 80s kids generation), some of us were quite happy with the simple TV and the Radio.  We also had the Family COMPUTERS, which we sure have not realized that the working class already had the PERSONAL COMPUTERS when we were just busy playing FAMICOM  or THE ATARIS.  Inside our blockhouses, the suburbs we didn't need to keep caring about the personalities on Mainstream TV.  We go out into the fields, exploring some things not found inside, experiencing things firsthand.

Now it seems some folks have gone afraid of the outside.  They want to blow it up like it's something we didn't need to see.  Hahahaha.  NUCLEAR  everything, BOMB that place.  It seems that we have shrunk ourselves inside four-walled environments we safely called and culled our OFFICES.  And before one can have that kind of security, having an office to go to everyday to deem as if one is really working, or to the factory, to the market, to wherever things or services were sold.  The trading of things , the barter of goods and services which seem to keep some of our heads keep turning.  

In just a span of around forty years, the NETWORK has gone from just an angsty movie to the real NETWORK thing.  Satellites and towers were drawn up to connect each other, to connect people with each other.   Cellphones,computers, countless technological accessories were available almost for free.  

The wonderment still exists to where or to which generation owns this time, this place or that.  The 20's generation sure did have something different in their minds, the 30's generation sure do also have their own,  the 40's sure was more colorful than ever but is shown in black and white,  so was the 50's generation where it still is somehow vague , grey and obscure, the 60's generation made the world a little more frightening and peaceful, the 70's generation more colorful, the 80's in technicolor, the 90's ultra colorfully rough, and the new millennia became a little more dumb and whiny on my perspective.  Hahaha.  Do you agree?  Now the question now shouldn't be from what generation, age , time or place are you from?  What CHANNEL are you in now?   What NETWORK?  Am I making sense, am I making sense to you/

Hahahaha.  Well I should stop analyzing our own activities.  It seems though that because it apparently is so, I shouldn't have to keep emphasizing the wonderment of it.  Nobody needs to talk about how it is so that we keep blaming how and why this happened.  We really did really needed it apparently that's why.  A great number of us does anyway especially those who were engulfed inside the CROSS OF COMMERCE, TRADE,   and everything.  Because of SOCIAL MEDIA, I was able to stalk people first hand rather than having to keep hearing about them on the NEWS.  Especially the celebrities, local, national and international.  We can almost talk to them firsthand and see how or what they are doing. Or we get to know our LEADERS really well, more than ever before.  We get to know the things they wish they hadn't done before, and the people they were clearly associated before.  As kids, to teenage years to adulthood, we were able to see more of them than how we see or perceive ourselves.  That it became really apparently shameful how we needed to know more of them than ourselves.  And when we started to keep knowing more about ourselves, our place, our own environments, our communities,  we were branded NARCISSISTS.  Hahahaha.

How we really did found it funny before what we really found funny and interesting now.  Now we can not stop how this somehow has ruled our lives.  But we sure did learn how to follow through.  We learned who were among those who was more delusional or more obsessive about things necessary and unnecessary.  It really is wonderful.  A wonderful world.

STRANGER THINGS INDEED

Strange things started happening a long time ago.  I did not want to dig in into the details but it is so.  I am afraid it is so.  And I will have to keep seeing it as things that I will have to accept as something that makes sense.  And though it seems that it didn't matter at all, when in fact it does.  The moment I feel things go strange, I always find a way to keep swerving or just accept it as it is.  Because I believe that things will eventually get unstrange for lack of a better word.

It's like something that you can almost always do naturally at a certain age, at a certain point in your lifetime.  Something that you don't need to do out of curiosity anymore, or something that you wouldn't have to keep reasoning about.  

There's this point in an architectural activity where one realizes that he or she don't need to keep learning about.  The way one student of architecture need to keep doing to not feel estranged.   And there will be a time eventually to decide.  The process for which one needs to do to engage and practice what he or she has learned beforehand.  Something that 's done as a student collectively will be considered useless at some point, or even rendered unnecessary.  And one wonders why do we have to keep going through that.  But hey, there's a difference. 

GET READ OFF THIS AND THAT

I don't understand.  Were you keeping a diary? Haven't we been blessed enough to start being
sensitive to that kind of thought?  What were you doing, writing a book? What happens now if every remark that you hear became sort of a tort?  A sardonic whisper, a sarcastic thought?  Would I end up dumb and stupid?  Is there a need for you to do so? Was it even necessary to point that out? Have I been so close to you to make it forgivable enough?  Have I been so predictable and imperative enough to deserve that kind of treatment? Have we been too close enough to tolerate  such behavior? Is there a need for you to change your ways?

Do you want to hear it or would you rather much prefer to read about it?  Would it make it safer?  Would it be more thoughtful if you see it, hear it?  Or wouldn't it be better if you just feel it?  And if you felt it, would it be real, would it feel real? Would it feel true?  Truer if you you see it, hear it, and feel it?

What happens now if every word you hear from this day forward are nothing but confessions?  Confessions of things that gets a little too sad than before.  Or happier when it feels brighter.

Did I talk too much?  Did I?  Have I said too much to you? Tutu to you... Hehehe

THE BASIC UNIT SPREADS

As I write this, I've been thinking about toasting bread or nevermind toasting it as long as the bread came from the oven from the bakeshop. I can eat them fine, I always find them tasty anyway. Not that I don't need a spread for it.  A spread,  Hmm a sandwich spread..wow  A fresh cup of coffee from the coffeemaker..no, no, don't need a coffin maker  just yet although I have managed to have carried a  coffin-like shape box before,  Yes,  I can still remember using it as a sort of storage for stacking cash.  Paper bills of different colors, and of course coins of assorted sizes. Different rectangular things and round shaped metal.  I was enthralled to have been assigned to keep them beside my makeshift bed on site before. I had to count them.  I had to keep them so I could pass them on for the building's hard working workers. The foreman, the carpenters, the masonry men, the steelmen,  the painters, the welders, the plumbers, & the younger ones we call the labor, the help, the assistants or to for whomever does need them paper and metal things. It does feel a little strange for me to do so but it's just the way it was, my assignment before. For I was one among the staff who had to assist the architect in any way I can.  

Just one of many tasks we had to keep doing while were in or at the helm of finishing a structure for the province. Well, I can almost always do feel the smell of smoke out from a burning  firewood somewhere.  As you get up and bathe in the open air, water from a drum, a barrell rusting green with algae of sorts,  the construction helmet as that thing you use for pouring water over your head.  And the ducks that kept roaming around, the chickens, the roosters with chicks , the flock of birds.  That rollcall,  that payroll on the end of the month, that inspiring thought of that ever exciting restless payday. 

STEALING THE ENERGY OUT OF YOUR BONES, KEEPING THE REDS OFF YOUR BLUES, KEEPING BLUE YOUR REDS TO GRIN...THE INSPIRER INSPIREE GAME

(*If I remember anything, I'd make mistakes again.*

The Get Up Kids's Mass Pike ) 

I can still recall this series of episodes which somehow stars Katherine Parkinson from IT Crowd, Dr. Martin.  They have these robots as servants or housekeepers.  And so it does whatever it really wishes you to do.  It has got modes and settings.  And so mother hired another worker for our  home again.  This morning I yet have to express my protest against it once again.  Because I do feel that we do not need a housekeeper for a house where everything really is manageable.  Because I feel that I do not have to keep relating with them.  

Because it always does feel like these servants had to keep attacking this household leaving me with the thought yet again that they seem not to understand, including everyone in my family, that one of the reasons why this city, community fail is this master and servant mentality.  It never ends, Something that I had to keep understanding.  Mother told me to just ignore them if it bothers you that much.  I told her that good for her, we have another human being we could treat like somebody who is of lower class but really does seem to keep bogging me down that it's the other way around, that we always fall for this nonsense.  Mother needed some extra pair of hands,  whenever she is away working outside, thus leaving this creature like an orphan who do not really needed to be here.  Well, I could be wrong I could be right.  But they come and go and it is not right. And I have the right to say so.  It does not resolve anything fruitful.  we'll see, will see. There always is a big sign across every new worker's head here that says *AM I PART OF THE FAMILY?*.   And my answer will always be *DO YOU WANT TO BE?*.

And this had to be one of the most micro-political bullfrogshit that no one never really talks about. And they always had to be the thing that had to be about within. To keep the peace, to keep it sane, to keep it humble,  to keep it clean.  Really now? But the next quest is whether I have to keep mumbling about or expect some kind of gratitude or magic out of this. I hope so too. I can then ask her *Do you know how to architecture?*  Yes, I could bet that they could all do. At some point anyhow.    

GOODS SERVICES

At some point it will or it won't make sense at all.   To sell something in exchange for something.  But it is what's outside.  The goods and services, it wasn't referred to as BADS & DISSERVICES. It is there for us to decide how we treat the marketplace.  It should not be something that had or has to be devoured, meaning, I do want to believe as so, that everyone has that appetite for these needs.  Yes, we have our own preferences, choices, tastes, etcetera etcetera.