Viridis

Don't tell anyone what you will see here.

[paulreganit]

19B Mayaman

I already knew that I will be leaving you on that day. There were boxes left and right, and the strings of dust in the small corners and underneath furnitures were all up in the air. I was too busy packing to soak up the thought that our time was over. Maybe I kept myself busy that day so I do not get overwhelmed with the feeling of melancholy of being outside your space, and with little to no certainty of returning. Just like that, I stepped out for the last time, waving goodbye to the kind-hearted people there; and of course, to you.

You saw my growth for 4 years. You quietly watched me through my struggles, at my lowest points, in my most vulnerable, and in my moments of triumph. You met the most important people in my life. You heard our uncontrollable laughters, our quiet sobs, our cheers of celebrations, our cries for help, our nonsense conversations, our petty dramas, and our hopeful dreams. You knew us in a way that other people will never get to have a glimpse of.

For the long time that I was a probinsyano in the metro, it was the time with you that I felt the most at ease. The time I spent with you might be a factor for that feeling. But it was the first time I was rooted in a place. You always welcome anyone who needed a sanctuary from the chaos of the outside. Going through that white door with a red capital B brings relief to anyone who does; the weight of the world is suddenly off our shoulders.

Thank you for being a place of comfort. Thank you for hosting our fondest memories. Thank you for being our home away from home.

I hope the people who will move in next will have one heck of a time. I know I did.

It is an end of an era, indeed; one that I will always remember.

[8-bitfiction]

[2021]

[paulreganit]

Makes it bearable, really.

[paulreganit]

Courage and Sensitivity. Those are the things I truly admire about my buddy, Joshy. She’s fearless on whatever adversity comes in her way, especially if she knows that she is on the right; but at the same time, sensitive on the boundaries of a person or a circumstance. This sensitivity does not prevent her from thinking about crossing the boundaries to settle matters, get vindication, or at least show her side, though. If she can think of a way to get those without crossing over the line, she’ll do it. Because of her, I also became more sensitive with how I approach people and brave enough to put things on the table the moment they get sour. Because, as I have learned from her, it’s better to talk and settle things out rather than letting them spoil. 

[badjokesbyjeff]

Six Lessons of Life

Lesson 1:

A man is getting into the shower just as his wife is finishing up her shower when the doorbell rings. The wife quickly wraps herself in a towel and runs downstairs. When she opens the door, there stands Bob, the next door neighbour. Before she says a word, Bob says, “I’ll give you $800 to drop that towel.” After thinking for a moment, the woman drops her towel and stands naked in front of Bob.

After a few seconds, Bob hands her $800 dollars and leaves. The woman wraps back up in the towel and goes back upstairs. When she gets to the bathroom, her husband asks,…

“Who was that?” “It was Bob the next door neighbour,” she replies. “Great!” the husband says, “Did he say anything about the $800 he owes me?”

Moral of the story:

If you share critical information pertaining to credit and risk with your shareholders in time, you may be in a position to prevent avoidable exposure.

Lesson 2:

A sales rep, an administration clerk, and the manager are walking to lunch when they find an antique oil lamp. They rub it and a Genie comes out. The Genie says, “I’ll give each of you just one wish” “Me first! Me first!” says the administration clerk. “I want to be in the Bahamas, driving a speedboat, without a care in the world.” Poof! She’s gone. “Me next! Me next!” says the sales rep. “I want to be in Hawaii, relaxing on the beach with my personal masseuse, an endless supply of Pina Coladas and the love of my life.” Poof! He’s gone. “OK, you’re up,” the Genie says to the manager. The manager says, “I want those two back in the office after lunch.”

Moral of the story:

Always let your boss have the first say

Lesson 3:

A priest offered a lift to a Nun. She got in and crossed her legs, forcing her gown to reveal a leg. The priest nearly had an accident. After controlling the car, he stealthily slid his hand up her leg. The nun said,”Father, remember Psalm 129?” The priest removed his hand. But, changing gears, he let his hand slide up her leg again. The nun once again said, “Father, remember Psalm 129?” The priest apologized “Sorry sister but the flesh is weak.” Arriving at the convent, the nun went on her way. On his arrival at the church, the priest rushed to look up Psalm 129. It said, “Go forth and seek, further up, you will find glory.”

Moral of the story:

If you are not well informed in your job, you might miss a great opportunity

Lesson 4

A crow was sitting on a tree, doing nothing all day. A rabbit asked him, ”Can I also sit like you and do nothing all day long?” The crow answered: “Sure, why not.” So, the rabbit sat on the ground below the crow, and rested.

A fox jumped on the rabbit and ate it.

Moral of the story:

To be sitting and doing nothing, you must be sitting very high up

Lesson 5:

Power of Charisma

A turkey was chatting with a bull “I would love to be able to get to the top of that tree,” sighed the turkey, but I haven’t got the energy.” “Well, why don’t you nibble on my droppings?” replied the bull. “They’re packed with nutrients.” The turkey pecked at a lump of dung and found that it gave him enough strength to reach the lowest branch of the tree. The next day, after eating some more dung, he reached the second branch. Finally after a fourth night, there he was proudly perched at the top of the tree. Soon he was spotted by a farmer, who shot the turkey out of the tree.

Moral of the story:

Bullshit might get you to the top, but it won’t keep you there

Lesson 6

A little bird was flying south for the winter. It was so cold the bird froze and fell to the ground into a large field. While he was lying there, a cow came by and dropped some dung on him. As the frozen bird lay there in the pile of cow dung, he began to realize how warm he was. The dung was actually thawing him out! He lay there all warm and happy, and soon began to sing for joy. A passing cat heard the bird singing and came to investigate. Following the sound, the cat discovered the bird under the pile of cow dung, and promptly dug him out and ate him.

Moral of the story:

Not everyone who shits on you is your enemy

Not everyone who gets you out of shit is your friend

And when you’re in deep shit, it’s best to keep your mouth shut!

[writing-prompt-s]

New merch! Available until October 10!

[Tee | Women’s Tee | Hoodie | Sweatshirt | Mug]

https://teespring.com/stores/halloween-merch

[philosophybits]

“Immaturity is the incapacity to use one’s intelligence without the guidance of another.”

— Immanuel Kant, What is Enlightenment?

[paulreganit]

Gray Days in Siargao

[jackcardiffs]

Memories of Murder (2003)

Director: Joon-ho Bong Cinematographer: Hyung-ku Kim

[paulreganit]

This film satisfied my socio-ethical and aesthetic cravings.

[badjokesbyjeff]

A small boy asks his Dad, “Dad, what are politics?”

Keep reading

[absurdism-and-hobbes]

[philosophybits]

The most savage controversies are those about matters as to which there is no good evidence either way. Persecution is used in theology, not in arithmetic, because in arithmetic there is knowledge, but in theology there is only opinion.

Bertrand Russell, Unpopular Essays (via philosophybits)

[paulreganit]

Skinless Longganisa

March 23 2018

I had a weird dream last night. I will spare some minor details because of their randomness in my subconscious and their irrelevance from what I’m about to tell. As how most of my dreams happen, it starts in media res. I find myself in the middle of a manila road with a fly-over above. I can’t say for sure if it is Taft Avenue but it kind of resembles the surroundings, only this street has five wide lanes on both sides while Taft only has three on each side. I cross the street. I pass by workers changing electricity lines, and garbage collectors struggling to separate metals from plastics. Surprisingly enough, I don’t smell any stench. There is even a girl, maybe around fourteen years old, helping with separating the plastics. I arrive at the end of a street with barong-barong houses. Just then, two guys pull out guns and start shooting one of the houses, breaking the windows and destroying the potted plants. Someone starts shooting back killing one guy. I turn and see the guy bleeding from his head the other one scrambling to get away. But the one shooting inside of the houses manages to shoot the guy running. The guy from inside the house sees me and starts shooting at me, too. I don’t know how but I manage to dodge the bullets. if that’s even possible. 

My dream pans and I find myself standing at an entrance to a formal event. Some friends from high school are there and they greet me as I walk towards the main door. Here’s the weird part. While the guests are having their meal, a skinless deer starts talking to me after I commented why the food is all meat. What it said goes like this: “Why do you care? You’re not the one being killed, skinned, and eaten.” I remember having a conversation with this sentient skinless deer but I can’t remember our discourse in verbatim. I learn that it is a product of an experiment and it cannot feel any pain. (I looked it up and there is a condition in humans called congenital analgesia where one can’t and has never felt physical pain.) The only catch is, it is sentient enough to realize the ‘injustice’ humans do to animals. I wake up freaked out.

I get where the first part of my dream is coming from. The world is in a shitstorm and it’s only getting worse. The urban conditions are becoming worse and people subjected to violence are rising in numbers. The second part of my dream is a genius metaphorical narrative. The formal setting may represent humanity’s sophistication at its height. But the all-meat buffet may represent our brutality towards other beings despite having this sophistication. (It kind of reminds me of the film The Purge) The clincher here is the sentient deer. In its core, the basis of our ethical ideals are from pain and pleasure--a utilitarian ideal. But take away our ability to feel pain or pleasure, what will come out of our moral ideals, especially towards animals?  What if animals are genetically produced to not feel pain? Will the non meat-eaters eat meat again? What if humans all have congenital analgesia? Will our society even evolve into modernity? How can people change something that does not put them in some sort of struggle? If death is just this sweet painless release and all we have is our existential consciousness, will we ever get to realize our abstract values that came from our utilitarian cores? 

I like how my dream always bring me in a state of questioning, not that I’m complaining. This is all because of a skinless deer. 

[quotespile]

Every hour, all over the globe, an infinite number of memories disappear, whole glowing atlases dragged into graves. But during that same hour children are moving about, surveying territory that seems to them entirely new. They push back the darkness; they scatter memories behind them like bread crumbs. The world is remade.

Anthony Doerr, Memory Wall (via quotespile)

[writing-prompt-s]

after dying god informs you that hell is a myth, and “everyone sins, its ok”. instead the dead are sorted into six “houses of heaven” based on the sins they chose.

[wpsstories]

We arrived first at the House of Lust. “House” is a misleading term. It was more of a camp, spread over acres and acres of lush forest. There was a white sandy beach (nude, of course) full of copulating couples. There were little cabins sprinkled all along the path, from which orgasmic moans regularly came belting out. Men with six pack abs and women with perky breasts strolled by without even noticing me and God. They only had eyes for each other, tickling and pinching each other with flirtatious giggles.

“What do you think?” God asked as we passed a nineteen-way taking place in a pool of champagne. Little cherubs flitted overhead armed with mops and cleaning supplies, thankfully. “Lust is our most popular sin.” I eyed the supermodel-like figures of a couple passing nearby, and could easily see why. “You can look however you want. Hell, you can be whatever gender you want. No fetish is too taboo, and no desire can be denied here.”

It was quite tempting, but I wasn’t ready to make a permanent decision here. “Let’s see the others,” I told God.

We carried on to Greed. We passed rows and rows of mansions, each more opulent than the next. Some of them were so large that they would have had enough bed rooms to fit my entire hometown. And so many different styles: one second, we were in a beautiful French vineyard in front of a gorgeous chateau with the Alps in the background. The next second, a warm tropical beach with a modern mansion atop breathtaking cliffs. After that, a ski chalet in Colorado with a roaring fire in a hearth large enough to fit an ox. Each one had various Italian sports cars and Rolls Royces parked in front, with the occasional smattering of boats, helicopters, etc.

“Any material desire you ever wanted,” God explained. “Your own world, where you can have everything. You want the Hope Diamond? You can fly to Washington DC in your own solid gold helicopter and buy it from the Smithsonian. Hell, you can just buy the Smithsonian.”

Also tempting, but I decided to keep looking.

Gluttony was next up. Tables and tables of the very finest foods: beautiful steaks cooked medium rare; butter-poached lobster tail; fresh oysters on a half shell; exotic wines in dusty bottles that had been hiding in the cellars of the world’s finest restaurants. Everyone had a glass of champagne in hand and simply lounged on couches and chairs near the tables, eating endlessly. As soon as the inhabitants took a bite, the food just instantly came back. My mouth watered even watching them.

“In every other House, the food is practically sawdust compared to Gluttony,” God explained. “You haven’t truly experienced heaven until you’ve been to Gluttony.”

I shook my head, and we kept moving.

Sloth was as you’d expect. An endless sea of the softest mattresses, stacked with cushions and pillows that made the story of the princess and the pea seem minimalist. Little angels visited each resident, giving them massages that made them all melt into their blankets.

Wrath was… well, a lot like what I’d expect Hell to be like. Fire, brimstone, whips, torture.. you know, the works. Except here, you weren’t the one being tortured. Every enemy you’d ever made in your real life was now under your thumb. “Lots of people choose their fathers,” God explained. “Lots of grudges against parents in general, you know. But you’re not limited to that. Someone beat you out for a big promotion back on Earth? Take your pound of flesh here.”

Then we arrived at Envy. It looked… well, a lot like home.

“Go on in,” God said, gesturing toward the door. I turned the knob and walked in… and found Emily waiting inside. She ran forward, wrapped her arms around my neck, and planted a kiss right on my lips. “Welcome home, honey.”

I looked back toward God. “Oh, don’t be coy,” he said. “You have no secrets from me. We all know that you were in love with your best friend’s wife.” She didn’t seem to hear him at all; she went back into the hall. “We all know that you just settled for your own wife while secretly pining after her. Well, this is your chance to live happily ever after.”

I peered into the kitchen. Emily was baking something, wearing nothing but an apron. Her curly black hair fell softly over her shoulder as she whisked ingredients. She turned back, noticed I was observing her, and an enthusiastic smile spread across her face.

“It’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?” God whispered in my ear.

I wanted to take it. God damn did I want to take it. But I shook my head.

God seemed puzzled. “You need to make a decision,” he told me.

“I haven’t seen Pride yet.”

He scoffed. “No one ever wants Pride, trust me.”

“Well, I want to see it.”

_________________________

Pride was boring. Just a row of workbenches in a bare white room.

“I don’t get it,” I told God.

“Yeah, no one does,” he answered. “That’s why no one ever chooses it. Doesn’t cavorting in Lust sound better than sitting here building little trinkets for the rest of eternity? Wouldn’t you rather gorge yourself in Gluttony? Or spend time with Emily in Envy?”

I considered the options again. “I pick Pride,” I finally told him.

He narrowed his eyes. “What? Look at it!” He gestured around the room again. There wasn’t much to look at. “Why would you choose this for the rest of time?”

“Because you don’t want me to pick it,” I told him. If he was really God, he’d know what a contrarian I can be. And I knew he was hiding something, trying to pretend like Pride didn’t exist. There was something special about it.

God scowled back. “Fine.” He led me over to one of the workbenches. In the center, there was a black space. A blank, empty void that went on forever. “Here’s your universe,” he said. “You’ve got seven days to get started.” He took his seat at the bench next to me and went back to tinkering in his own world. After a long pause, he finally spoke again: “You know, it might be nice for me to actually have some company for once.”

[feral-flower-child]

FUCKING I MEAN.

IT’S LIKE 7AM AND I LOVE GONNA REBLOG SO I CAN READ THIS SHIT AGAIN

[corpsedilf]

THIS IS THE BEST

[vivianecarstairs]

It is a strikingly American story, through and through. And I’d be ready to bet that different cultures and social groups would have different ideas about the people who choose each. (Also, notice that in wrath you can literally take your pound of flesh from what part of the body pleaseth you.)

[prospects]

[yonkou]

Tears that weaved the bond of friendship.

[alcoholicanarchist]

writer aesthetics

john keats: the lavender in sunsets, flowers in the rain, sunlight slipping through clouds, lazy summer afternoons, the heavy scent of musk, flickering candlelight reflecting off the gold titles of books, fireflies on a cool summer night, being wrapped in fresh bedsheets, the ache of wanting what you can never have, dripping sunlight like gold, loving someone so exquisite, soft lips and soft whispers, fingers through hair, names of lovers carved in trees, broken glass, the insistence of being perpetually dreamy

f. scott fitzgerald: mahogany wood, crisp winter skies with cold bright stars, the solitude of an early autumn morning wrapped in fog, empty bottles on stacks and stacks of books haphazardly placed in a messy room, pale bruised arms reaching out into the darkness, cigarette smoke just barely hiding the scent of alcohol, a wall of books all poetry and old and weathered, a bad thunderstorm occurring at the end of a beautiful day, the way tragedy strikes in your heart but ends up stopping your breathing for a moment,  your favorite sweater, parties spilling into four a.m. with the stars above spinning and dancing, the contrast of blood against snow, a purple split lip oozing blood, black eyes fading to blue to pale skin, the butterflies of falling in love for the first time, the statues falling apart over time in cemeteries, the romanticization of self-destruction

franz kafka: the weight of dread that sits heavily in your stomach when thinking about the future, decrepit houses cloaked in mystery from children telling stories of people who died there, the way not even light can escape a black hole, the rich smell of old books,  delicate veins in the wrist, ghosts filling lungs, shattered bones, raindrops on the tongue, rusting metal, nostalgia that aches, the way hope feels like a plastic bag over your head

h.p. lovecraft:  the anxiety felt when staring into an unknown cave, pouring rain and mud, a child’s fear of the dark, thinking so many questions about your existence as you stare at the vast expanse of never ending ocean,  the silence of three a.m.,  danse macabre by camille saint-saens playing on a record in an empty house, the possibility of aliens and the weird feeling it gives you that you can’t explain, unexplainable phenomena, strange lights in the sky in the dead of night, ouija boards and urban legends

jack kerouac: the brisk pine air of being on a mountain, travels without a destination, those nights where you’re missing three hours of memory, screaming to a lifeless desert about how you’re so alive, coffee shops late at night, car rides at night spent speeding and laughing in the dark, naps spent in the sun,  novels highlighted and underlined with notes and epiphanies in the margins, the way uncertainty sits on the shoulders, ignoring flaws and loving life, wind through hair, depression as fog in the brain, impossible ideals, a quiet sunrise, walks alone, when you think about trying to discover all the secrets to the universe, dazzling people, open lands stretching out into infinity, falling in love with being alive

edgar allan poe: the ocean’s horizon inseparable from fog, hollow bones, a preserved heart held in hands, twinkling stars above an old graveyard, the way everything turns to dust, silent black birds with eyes full of wisdom, self-inflicted flames, perfection depicted as a rotting corpse, death as bricks in the heart, lips barely brushing against each other, glassy glazed eyes, biting into a lemon,  heart-shaped bruises, rotting flowers on a grave, dried blood and spilled liquor, the hush of dusk when it begins raining, the intimacy of a secret

[footnotestoplato]

plato: the smell of democrats burning, salty salty discourse in the market in athens, screaming at aristotle, caves, shadows, steep and rugged ascents…