October 31, 2007
Love is a choice and not a feeling?
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Posted by:haiironotenshi, October 31, 2007 01:35 AM
I have heard him say the other day to a common friend of ours that love is a choice and not much of a feeling. His statement made me think about it. Is it truly a choice and not a feeling? It seems that with the statement, its mutually exclusive to either one. I think love is a mix of both. It is both a choice and a feeling. To say that it is a choice along would mean that just because I decide to love someone I would end up truly loving him when there is the possibility of it not being true love at all. And if it is truly a choice solely, then why are there predicaments when people try to just love the people that love them back instead of pursuing the ones they originally felt for? It's crazy because if it is solely and purely a choice, then the number of broken hearts out there would have lessen and mortality rates to a down, which is not happening.
To say that love is a feeling solely is again erroneous for me. Love cannot just exist on feeling alone for it will easily die down. There has to be action and communication of what is felt. Something bottled inside wouldnt easily be known to the other party without words and actions that are truly heartfelt but how this would be transmitted and communicated, that is where the choice should enter. It is a choice when the person who loves decides to go for it and lets go of what he or she feels. It is a choice to express acts of affection and care towards the other or just let the love die inside without it being known. It is a choice of letting it flourished or just die an instant death because of the decision not to get into a relationship.
There are other arguments to say that love isnt solely a choice nor is it a feeling alone. It is wrong to say that love is a choice and not a feeling. It is more proper to say that it is a choice and a feeling. The absence of one wouldnt make the love whole and flourished.
Nonetheless, why would someone like him say that it is a choice? Love is not a feeling. It is a choice. His voice still resonates in my head. Part of it I guess has something to do with his past relationships. Part of it I guess is attributable to his past bitterness. The words coming from him now scares him. Because if he believes truly that it is a choice, then he might choose to not face the music and face me in the end. He might just choose to kill whatever goes on between us as if nothing happened. And even though I am not hoping for anything back from him, I think I would still break and my heart shattered. I pray that he chooses me and take care of my heart and me just like what it should be.
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October 30, 2007
Bittersweet symphony
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Posted by:haiironotenshi, October 30, 2007 06:04 PM
It has been a few days ever since my semestral break started. I feel quite awkward given the high toxicity levels I just went through. Hopefully, I get my groove back this semestral break and even more, the needed rest I believe I deserve. Good thing since the day after my last exam, I and my other school mates went out of town for a mix of business and pleasure. We had our planning semester with gimmicks on the side. And on the last day, I was able to experience and fulfill one of my life's wishes and that is, to experience scuba diving. It was amazing and I will not trade it for anything else. My family doesnt know I did it since I know that they will probably kill me if I do.
~@~
Going back to my bittersweet symphony title, I intend to post songs in this blog that will reflect on my present state of mind and heart. There are numerous songs out there that reflects one's feelings and emotions. And if there would be one I guess for me today, I will still adopt the song that my best friend dedicated to me. They are songs by Sara Bareilles (?). My best friend said that it is truly applicable to me--especially the song Gravity. I've read the lyrics and I must say, somehow it seems to have been written for me. Nonetheless, the message of the song doesnt affect me. For even though I am hurting and in my mind I tell myself that I shouldnt be hurt, I couldnt stop myself from loving. It feels so bittersweet, the feeling of loving someone is bittersweet. Your heart is filled with a gamut of emotions--from happiness to remorse and sorrow. And yet, whenever negative feelings control you, you cannot just stop. I cannot just stop. I have told myself I will let go and move on and yet nothing happens. I am in a circuitous play, always coming back to him and him alone. Even though I promise I wouldnt do any effort in being there for him and doing things for him, I lose control still and do what I can to make him happy. And its sad because I am becoming a martyr and he might not be really realizing my worth and the things I do for him. But it is also happy because its expressing what I truly feel and the memories of his eyes shining with happiness whenever I show thoughtfulness. It is truly amazing and yet it is perplexing. I dont know honestly where to place myself. I am not asking him anything in exchange but of course, there would always be the need for affirmation and appreciation. And I rather see that he doesnt feel anything for me rather than continue to place me in a circle going round and round--in a limbo where he is undecided if he loves me too or not...
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August 24, 2007
You Raise Me Up
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Posted by:haiironotenshi, August 24, 2007 03:03 AM
Thank you very much. When I thought I was left in darkness, you lighted up the way.
Thanks PS.
~@~
YOU RAISE ME UP
When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary;
When troubles come and my heart burdened be;
Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up: To more than I can be.
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up: To more than I can be.
There is no life - no life without its hunger;
Each restless heart beats so imperfectly;
But when you come and I am filled with wonder,
Sometimes, I think I glimpse eternity.
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up: To more than I can be.
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up: To more than I can be.
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1 Whispers
August 11, 2007
Romantic Compatability
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Posted by:haiironotenshi, August 11, 2007 09:29 PM
Hmm.. interesting.
~@~
Testing our romantic compatibility...
Vibration No 6:
Your relationship is based on mutual respect and love, you are great mates because your relationship is noble and transparent. You love beauty in all its manifestations.
You both have a tendency to sacrifice yourselves for the sake others, and you do not set the necessary limits so that those others do not invade your relationship.
In general, your relationship is relaxed and charming, you are generous and spontaneous to each other. If you both feel that you may get to be comfortable in each other’s company, the relationship will be sudden and the need to be close together will appear from the very moment you meet.
You will enjoy music shows or any other display where all the beauty of love is expressed. You love harmony and love above all. The only advice fit for this relationship is that you try to deepen your feelings.
Then again, a variation in data input...
Vibration No 4:
You need a lot of tranquility and peace to be able to connect at a deep level. Otherwise, each of you will tend to isolate from the other.
You need to constantly renew your bond, and your sense of humor. You go about your relationship discreetly because you are not keen to openly show your feelings. Besides, you tend to doubt your own feelings towards the other all too easily.
This type of relationship is more intellectual than passionate, but you can still share interesting sexual moments provided a chemical-erotic connection can be established.
You need to learn not to be so headstrong regarding the other and to surrender yourselves with all your heart. But the most important thing is to try not to be so clumsy or tactless towards the other when a problem arises.
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August 9, 2007
Commencement Speech to the Harvard Class of 2000 by Conan O'Brien
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Posted by:haiironotenshi, August 9, 2007 11:13 PM
Commencement Speech to the Harvard Class of 2000
by Conan O'Brien
I'd like to thank the Class Marshals for inviting me here today. The last time I was invited to Harvard it cost me $110,000, so you'll forgive me if I'm a bit suspicious. I'd like to announce up front that I have one goal this afternoon: to be half as funny as tomorrow's Commencement Speaker, Moral Philosopher and Economist, Amartya Sen. Must get more laughs than seminal wage/price theoretician.
Students of the Harvard Class of 2000, fifteen years ago I sat where you sit now and I thought exactly what you are now thinking: What's going to happen to me? Will I find my place in the world? Am I really graduating a virgin? I still have 24 hours and my roommate's Mom is hot. I swear she was checking me out. Being here today is very special for me. I miss this place. I especially miss Harvard Square - it's so unique. No where else in the world will you find a man with a turban wearing a Red Sox jacket and working in a lesbian bookstore. Hey, I'm just glad my dad's working.
It's particularly sweet for me to be here today because when I graduated, I wanted very badly to be a Class Day Speaker. Unfortunately, my speech was rejected. So, if you'll indulge me, I'd like to read a portion of that speech from fifteen years ago: "Fellow students, as we sit here today listening to that classic Ah-ha tune which will definitely stand the test of time, I would like to make several predictions about what the future will hold: "I believe that one day a simple Governor from a small Southern state will rise to the highest office in the land. He will lack political skill, but will lead on the sheer strength of his moral authority." "I believe that Justice will prevail and, one day, the Berlin Wall will crumble, uniting East and West Berlin forever under Communist rule." "I believe that one day, a high speed network of interconnected computers will spring up world-wide, so enriching people that they will lose their interest in idle chit chat and pornography." "And finally, I believe that one day I will have a television show on a major network, seen by millions of people a night, which I will use to re-enact crimes and help catch at-large criminals." And then there's some stuff about the death of Wall Street which I don't think we need to get into....
The point is that, although you see me as a celebrity, a member of the cultural elite, a kind of demigod, I was actually a student here once much like you. I came here in the fall of 1981 and lived in Holworthy. I was, without exaggeration, the ugliest picture in the Freshman Face book. When Harvard asked me for a picture the previous summer, I thought it was just for their records, so I literally jogged in the August heat to a passport photo office and sat for a morgue photo. To make matters worse, when the Face Book came out they put my picture next to Catherine Oxenberg, a stunning blonde actress who was accepted to the class of '85 but decided to defer admission so she could join the cast of "Dynasty." My photo would have looked bad on any page, but next to Catherine Oxenberg, I looked like a mackerel that had been in a car accident. You see, in those days I was six feet four inches tall and I weighed 150 pounds. Recently, I had some structural engineers run those numbers into a computer model and, according to the computer, I collapsed in 1987, killing hundreds in Taiwan.
After freshman year I moved to Mather House. Mather House, incidentally, was designed by the same firm that built Hitler's bunker. In fact, if Hitler had conducted the war from Mather House, he'd have shot himself a year earlier. 1985 seems like a long time ago now. When I had my Class Day, you students would have been seven years old. Seven years old. Do you know what that means? Back then I could have beaten any of you in a fight. And I mean bad. It would be no contest. If any one here has a time machine, seriously, let's get it on, I will whip your seven year old butt. When I was here, they sold diapers at the Coop that said "Harvard Class of 2000." At the time, it was kind of a joke, but now I realize you wore those diapers. How embarrassing for you. A lot has happened in fifteen years. When you think about it, we come from completely different worlds. When I graduated, we watched movies starring Tom Cruise and listened to music by Madonna. I come from a time when we huddled around our TV sets and watched "The Cosby Show" on NBC, never imagining that there would one day be a show called "Cosby" on CBS. In 1985 we drove cars with driver's side airbags, but if you told us that one day there'd be passenger side airbags, we'd have burned you for witchcraft.
But of course, I think there is some common ground between us. I remember well the great uncertainty of this day. Many of you are justifiably nervous about leaving the safe, comfortable world of Harvard Yard and hurling yourself headlong into the cold, harsh world of Harvard Grad School, a plum job at your father's firm, or a year abroad with a gold Amex card and then a plum job in your father's firm. But let me assure you that the knowledge you've gained here at Harvard is a precious gift that will never leave you. Take it from me, your education is yours to keep forever. Why, many of you have read the Merchant of Florence, and that will inspire you when you travel to the island of Spain. Your knowledge of that problem they had with those people in Russia, or that guy in South America-you know, that guy-will enrich you for the rest of your life.
There is also sadness today, a feeling of loss that you're leaving Harvard forever. Well, let me assure you that you never really leave Harvard. The Harvard Fundraising Committee will be on your ass until the day you die. Right now, a member of the Alumni Association is at the Mt. Auburn Cemetery shaking down the corpse of Henry Adams. They heard he had a brass toe ring and they aims to get it. Imagine: These people just raised 2.5 billion dollars and they only got through the B's in the alumni directory. Here's how it works. Your phone rings, usually after a big meal when you're tired and most vulnerable. A voice asks you for money. Knowing they just raised 2.5 billion dollars you ask, "What do you need it for?" Then there's a long pause and the voice on the other end of the line says, "We don't need it, we just want it." It's chilling.
What else can you expect? Let me see, by your applause, who here wrote a thesis. (APPLAUSE) A lot of hard work, a lot of your blood went into that thesis... and no one is ever going to care. I wrote a thesis: Literary Progeria in the works of Flannery O'Connor and William Faulkner. Let's just say that, during my discussions with Pauly Shore, it doesn't come up much. For three years after graduation I kept my thesis in the glove compartment of my car so I could show it to a policeman in case I was pulled over. (ACT OUT) License, registration, cultural exploration of the Man Child in the Sound and the Fury...
So what can you expect out there in the real world? Let me tell you. As you leave these gates and re-enter society, one thing is certain: Everyone out there is going to hate you. Never tell anyone in a roadside diner that you went to Harvard. In most situations the correct response to where did you to school is, "School? Why, I never had much in the way of book larnin' and such." Then, get in your BMW and get the hell out of there.
You see, you're in for a lifetime of "And you went to Harvard?" Accidentally give the wrong amount of change in a transaction and it's, "And you went to Harvard?" Ask the guy at the hardware store how these jumper cables work and hear, "And you went to Harvard?" Forget just once that your underwear goes inside your pants and it's "and you went to Harvard." Get your head stuck in your niece's dollhouse because you wanted to see what it was like to be a giant and it's "Uncle Conan, you went to Harvard!?"
But to really know what's in store for you after Harvard, I have to tell you what happened to me after graduation. I'm going to tell you my story because, first of all, my perspective may give many of you hope, and, secondly, it's an amazing rush to stand in front of six thousand people and talk about yourself.
After graduating in May, I moved to Los Angeles and got a three week contract at a small cable show. I got a $380 a month apartment and bought a 1977 Isuzu Opel, a car Isuzu only manufactured for a year because they found out that, technically, it's not a car. Here's a quick tip, graduates: no four cylinder vehicle should have a racing stripe. I worked at that show for over a year, feeling pretty good about myself, when one day they told me they were letting me go. I was fired and, I hadn't saved a lot of money. I tried to get another job in television but I couldn't find one.
So, with nowhere else to turn, I went to a temp agency and filled out a questionnaire. I made damn sure they knew I had been to Harvard and that I expected the very best treatment. And so, the next day, I was sent to the Santa Monica branch of Wilson's House of Suede and Leather. When you have a Harvard degree and you're working at Wilson's House of Suede and Leather, you are haunted by the ghostly images of your classmates who chose Graduate School. You see their faces everywhere: in coffee cups, in fish tanks, and they're always laughing at you as you stack suede shirts no man, in good conscience, would ever wear. I tried a lot of things during this period: acting in corporate infomercials, serving drinks in a non-equity theatre, I even took a job entertaining at a seven year olds' birthday party. In desperate need of work, I put together some sketches and scored a job at the fledgling Fox Network as a writer and performer for a new show called "The Wilton North Report." I was finally on a network and really excited. The producer told me the show was going to revolutionize television. And, in a way, it did. The show was so hated and did so badly that when, four weeks later, news of its cancellation was announced to the Fox affiliates, they burst into applause.
Eventually, though, I got a huge break. I had submitted, along with my writing partner, a batch of sketches to Saturday Night Live and, after a year and a half, they read it and gave us a two week tryout. The two weeks turned into two seasons and I felt successful. Successful enough to write a TV pilot for an original sitcom and, when the network decided to make it, I left Saturday Night Live. This TV show was going to be groundbreaking. It was going to resurrect the career of TV's Batman, Adam West. It was going to be a comedy without a laugh track or a studio audience. It was going to change all the rules. And here's what happened: When the pilot aired it was the second lowest-rated television show of all time. It's tied with a test pattern they show in Nova Scotia.
So, I was 28 and, once again, I had no job. I had good writing credits in New York, but I was filled with disappointment and didn't know what to do next. I started smelling suede on my fingertips. And that's when The Simpsons saved me. I got a job there and started writing episodes about Springfield getting a Monorail and Homer going to College. I was finally putting my Harvard education to good use, writing dialogue for a man who's so stupid that in one episode he forgot to make his own heart beat. Life was good.
And then, an insane, inexplicable opportunity came my way . A chance to audition for host of the new Late Night Show. I took the opportunity seriously but, at the same time, I had the relaxed confidence of someone who knew he had no real shot. I couldn't fear losing a great job I had never had. And, I think that attitude made the difference. I'll never forget being in the Simpson's recording basement that morning when the phone rang. It was for me. My car was blocking a fire lane. But a week later I got another call: I got the job.
So, this was undeniably the it: the truly life-altering break I had always dreamed of. And, I went to work. I gathered all my funny friends and poured all my years of comedy experience into building that show over the summer, gathering the talent and figuring out the sensibility. We debuted on September 13, 1993 and I was happy with our effort. I felt like I had seized the moment and put my very best foot forward. And this is what the most respected and widely read television critic, Tom Shales, wrote in the Washington Post: "O'Brien is a living collage of annoying nervous habits. He giggles and titters, jiggles about and fiddles with his cuffs. He had dark, beady little eyes like a rabbit. He's one of the whitest white men ever. O'Brien is a switch on the guest who won't leave: he's the host who should never have come. Let the Late show with Conan O'Brien become the late, Late Show and may the host return to Conan O'Blivion whence he came." There's more but it gets kind of mean.
Needless to say, I took a lot of criticism, some of it deserved, some of it excessive. And it hurt like you wouldn't believe. But I'm telling you all this for a reason. I've had a lot of success and I've had a lot of failure. I've looked good and I've looked bad. I've been praised and I've been criticized. But my mistakes have been necessary. Except for Wilson's House of Suede and Leather. That was just stupid.
I've dwelled on my failures today because, as graduates of Harvard, your biggest liability is your need to succeed. Your need to always find yourself on the sweet side of the bell curve. Because success is a lot like a bright, white tuxedo. You feel terrific when you get it, but then you're desperately afraid of getting it dirty, of spoiling it in any way.
I left the cocoon of Harvard, I left the cocoon of Saturday Night Live, I left the cocoon of The Simpsons. And each time it was bruising and tumultuous. And yet, every failure was freeing, and today I'm as nostalgic for the bad as I am for the good.
So, that's what I wish for all of you: the bad as well as the good. Fall down, make a mess, break something occasionally. And remember that the story is never over. If it's all right, I'd like to read a little something from just this year: "Somehow, Conan O'Brien has transformed himself into the brightest star in the Late Night firmament. His comedy is the gold standard and Conan himself is not only the quickest and most inventive wit of his generation, but quite possible the greatest host ever."
Ladies and Gentlemen, Class of 2000, I wrote that this morning, as proof that, when all else fails, there's always delusion.
I'll go now, to make bigger mistakes and to embarrass this fine institution even more. But let me leave you with one last thought: If you can laugh at yourself loud and hard every time you fall, people will think you're drunk.
Thank you.
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August 6, 2007
The Past
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Posted by:haiironotenshi, August 6, 2007 11:18 PM
One exam down... 7 to go!!!
I had my exam in Crimpro tonight and it was wow. I am in a loss for words that is why that is all I could say--wow. What the result would be in going to be in God's hands now. I have faith. I will make it through.
I also have an exam tomorrow but I am in a break. But I am not about to talk about my exams now...I am going to talk about something else.
While my best friend is doing his own pondering and drama, I am going to take up something of my own.
Last night, I received something in my email inbox, which kind of startled me. This man from the past has sent me a friend request in Friendster. Wow, I was first startled. Aba nabuhay siya. I appreciate it though that at least, this guy is making the effort to stay in touch. It is undeniable that we had memories together as two close friends. And yes, I won't deny that there was an episode in my life that I loved him more than a friend--to the point that I was hurting because of it. Did he feel the same way? Well, your guess is the same as mine. Nonetheless, looking at his profile, his pictures, his girlfriend, and whatnot, I suddenly thought of how happy he is right now and that I am happy that he is. And together with this thought is the question about what happened to me in the past. Was it all in my head? Because somehow, whenever I try to think of what I felt last time, no memory surfaces itself. All are blurry and I guess the best evidence of record are my blog entries about it. Aside from that there is nothing. And because of this, I ask myself if I really loved the person. Because if I did, isnt there a saying that love is never forgotten? Oh well. I dont know. Maybe I have grown up. Maybe my heart grown up. Maybe I am in a selective memory mode. Nonetheless, whatever that past might have been. I am okay. I am okay--no matter what happens in my life.
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