TCC # 9
SOMETIMES ALL YOU need to do is close your eyes to see. Now, if I could just keep them closed a little longer. Soon…
SOMETIMES ALL YOU need to do is close your eyes to see. Now, if I could just keep them closed a little longer. Soon…
I LOVE the rain, but sometimes i miss the su… No. I love the rain. (coming back)
“In the old days, it was not called the Holiday Season; the Christians called it ‘Christmas’ and went to church; the Jews called it ‘Hanukkah’ and went to synagogue; the atheists went to parties and drank. People passing each other on the street would say ‘Merry Christmas!’ or ‘Happy Hanukkah!’ or (to the atheists) ‘Look…
I WAS ON vacation in Boracay Island, Philippines a week before Typhoon Haiyan/Yolanda (widely believed to be the strongest typhoon to ever hit land) damaged it. The good news is that the island was able to recover quickly from the destruction. I took a few photos of the calm before the storm, my first attempt…
5-7-5 (you can find the full poem here) was written with a girl in mind. Last night, something happened. I merged Christina’s audio reading of the poem with a photo of a boy and some background music. The result was something unintentional yet wonderfully and indescribably different. I will never see 5-7-5 the same way again.…
YOUR COFFEE MUG still sits where you left it, half-empty, atop your favorite porcelain, brim smudged with a curious combination of dried froth and pink lipstick. It’s my little testimony, you know, to a life well led and a union I thought was blessed. I never had the heart to move it even as it perches precariously on…
I HAD THE night of my life earlier dancing with blogger friends Ese, Alastair, Yashie, Amber, Daile and Christina, along with a few others. I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for having the guts (and the balls, Alastair) to go out of your way just to humor me during…
TODAY ISN’T exactly a good day. We’re moving to a new office. That means an extra 12.5 mile drive. They say the new office will be better but not necessarily bigger. I’d say bigger is better. I will miss my old room, which exudes a scent of pretzels by the way, as well as its…
IT IS official. I have forgotten how to write. It didn’t take more than a sentence to know that I won’t be getting anywhere. My thoughts could no longer command these brittle fingers to pry themselves open. Perhaps they have gotten so accustomed to wielding a pen that jabbing at a Chiclet keyboard seems so…
I SEE HER for what she is — uneven, a runaway three-line poetry. Lesser minds have plunged her depths only to break the surface with questioning faces. All these years they never understood for they saw her differently, an odd number in the realm of pairs and parallelisms. She was often measured, but in their eyes…
“You get a strange feeling when you’re about to leave a place, you’ll not only miss the people you love but you’ll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you’ll never be this way ever again.” — Azar Nafisi, Reading Lolita in Tehran ———————————————————————- “Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go…
Preserving a b-day tradition. Words: NGT, “The Caffeine Chronicles” My Pretzel Logic Video Footage: Jubafilms
“What I need is a goddamn miracle and my cigarette is my burning bush.” — NGT, “Sophia” CIGARETTE SMOKERS are a curious breed. Try asking five smokers a peso and they’d tell you they don’t have change. Bum a stick and at least four will hand you their cigarette packs with lighters in tow. Roll your…
OKAY, NOW I don’t see the need to post a Friday Five music video entry every Friday. Otherwise, My Pretzel Logic will start looking like a music video blog, especially in times when I decide to take a short blogging hiatus (like what I had this week). Maybe every other Friday or every first Friday…
Thought I’d post 5 of my favorite songs every Friday. Each week will feature a different genre. I need to thank Kori of Life, Love & Lyricality for introducing me to such a wonderful weekly music list concept. This week is a mixed bag of alternative rock, acoustic indie and pop. – pretzellogic
BEFORE ANYTHING, my sincere apologies to friends who recently nominated me for blog awards. I have been known to “hibernate” from writing from time to time and the idea of settling down my thinking chair to prepare the formalities in receiving and passing on 4 award nominations didn’t help speed things up. But don’t get…
a solitary chord a floating sound a quiet sunday afternoon a green patch of grass a tamarind tree a hammock of slumber a waking boy a listening ear a longing heart a flick of the wrist a strum of the guitar a reluctant song a rising arpeggio a perfect octave a muted key a pause…
Since we’re into videos as of late, I’m posting this slightly-tweaked, short video, which disappeared when i deleted my old Google account recently. Those expecting the “inevitable” appearance of Zooey Deschanel will be sorely disappointed. I wrote this short poem (?) some time back as a tribute to old Johnny, habitue of this cafe I…
FOR LOSS OF WORDS is about love, loss, the art of photography and a million words. I wrote this piece for a friend of mine after parting ways with her photographer boyfriend. This one’s written from the photog’s point of view. Read by an amazing woman, Christina Gregory (formerly Brownlee), it is one of my…
SOME PEOPLE can’t write and paint their flats at the same time. I’m one of them. (but soon…) artwork credit: “We Who See,’ mixed media, by Maranda Pleasant.
I. Fear is working in the office late at night and seeing this message written on the toilet mirror… II. Fear is working in the office late at night and seeing this message written on the toilet mirror… …then hearing a gravelly voice from one of the cubicles whisper: “That’s right, dude. Now would…
I WAS ABOUT to turn in the other night when I received a lovely comment from The Audacious Amateur Blogger or “J” – not her real name – of the delectably irreverent I am an Afterschool Special nominating me for the Reader Appreciation Award. My reaction was that of pleasant surprise. J just made my…
For Loss of Words (Sit Beside Me Still) — “The Caffeine Chronicles” Number 4. This is my portrait of you. It speaks to me in strange, colored verses, in whispered codes of ancient languages. I often get that illusion. You are not easy to ignore. I’ve long studied its dog-eared corners, one by one, pressed…