To He Who Has Taken Me (And The Rest Of The World) For Granted Immensely

Caution: This is another “throwback rant”.
October 21st, 2012

I’ve given a lot of thought about you over the break. I’ve thought of the old times, of your heartaches, of the moments, of us, of each of your enigmatic actions and of how much I loved (past tense) you. I’ve thought about a million things about you. But at the end of the day, all I’ve really thought about is how much I HATE YOU. Yep. I’m done. And this might be just a spur-of-the-moment, but I know there is a reason why I am feeling this sudden hatred towards you. It’s like, just who do you think you are?! Honestly, I see now that you’re nothing but a pile of bullshit. I was gonna regret investing so much in you and believing so much in you, but I figured it’s great that I learned this the hard way. You, bastard, just taught me the greatest lesson in life that I learned so far. And it has something to do with dealing with stuck-up narcissistic self-destructive morons like yourself! I may have let my guard down and fed your ego without me even noticing it, but here’s me breaking the news for ya: YOU’RE NOT THAT GREAT. You are, *drum roll, just another piece of crap. You are cold, you are boring, you are vapid and you are easily the clearest definition of asshole. You walk around thinking you’re so different and so mysterious and so dangerous, and you’re expecting the rest of us to can’t help but say that you are such a COMPLEX individual, but guess what honey, you’re the simplest man I know. You are not at all complicated like people think you are. You are simply fucked up. And really, there’s nothing complicated about that. You cross my mind and I can’t help but break, or scratch, or smash, or burn, or kill whatever it is in close proximity. And when I see you, I control myself because I don’t wanna go to jail just yet. I still have foods to eat, and movies to watch, and books to read, and friends (real ones) to hang out with, and love to feel, and sex to have, and swings to swing on, and Christmas presents to unwrap, and jokes to laugh at, and water to drink, and songs to listen to, and party poppers to pop. But you. You can just hump your way on down to death because that’s what you’ve been all this time: DEAD. I don’t even know why anyone would ever put up with you and your grimy little cunt of a self! You deserve nothing. Absolutely NOTHING from anyone who’s actually real and genuine and ALIVE. You are the swarthiest dirt of the earth that I know, and I hope that you suffer way more than any human being alive today.

And I know that you can’t even read this coz you are one of those hippies who claim that they NEVER facebook, or text or whatever. Well nobody cares if you don’t do what most people do. That doesn’t make you any less of the scumbag you already are. Because the next time you aggravate me and get on my nerves with all your shallow, totally lame and endlessly irritating jokes and homophobic slurs, I sure am gonna verbally assault you with all that I’ve written here, and then I will rip your head off… And if I don’t succeed with that, I am gonna shave your eyebrows off in the middle of the night. You deserve to be miserable.

(I’ve killed you about 17 times in my head by now)

High School High

My Tune: The Bitch of Living (from the musical Spring Awakening)
audio link:


Over the past few months, I’ve noticed that I’m drastically becoming one of those people who are desperately holding on to their youth. I know that the flower-crowned optimists of this world say that age is just a number and that one can stay forever young if he pleases to, and all those other metaphors and euphemisms they use these days to cover up ugly truths, but I feel like a realist today. And today, what’s real tells me that I am an unemployed twenty-year old artist with a lackluster social life somewhere in the jungle-like Western civilization. And I just can’t help but think to myself, “Dang, boi! Where did all the years go?”

Here’s the thing about me: I am lethargic. I am lazy. Bed-ridden. I mean generally speaking, I barely even walk for more than a total of 90 seconds per day, and I don’t really consider sweating a prerequisite to my well-being. The most active thing I do is take a shower twice a day, but that’s about it. I might as well dub myself “The World’s Youngest Retiree Ever”. But here’s the catch: I wasn’t like this before. Not at all. I was one of the most energetic, most party-fueled, adventure-filled, life-loving people I know. Now I’m sitting here just wondering what happened to the livelier version of myself; the one who always found excitement in the littlest things, the one who would not allow a day to pass without trying something new. You know, the one back in high school.

High school. Here we go again. I’ve written several things about this already, but if I actually wrote each time I start to miss high school, even if it’s just always momentary, then at least half of this blogsite would be about nothing else other than high school. But here I am right now. And besides the fact that I haven’t set foot on the grounds of my high school for three years now, what brought me here?

An hour ago, I was re-watching an episode of 90210, and it’s the one where the West Beverly Hills High produces a performance of one of the most notable plays in history, “Spring Awakening”. It is the work of German dramatist Frank Wedekind written sometime between autumn 1890 and spring 1891. And it is one of my favorite plays of all time. It definitely is the real High School Musical.

One of the songs in Spring Awakening has always stood out to me, and that is the song “The Bitch of Living”. If you also love this song, or if you are not familiar with the play and are curious, then go click the audio link I so kindly provided for you at the very top of this write-up. There’s just something about this song that makes me vividly remember how it felt like to be in high school. All of those events and stage plays held in our university gymnasium, amphitheater and football field always top my memory list. I mean, jesus, I’m having goosebumps just thinking about the moments I had there, with my friends, with their hearts, and with all our innocence.

When I think of the past, I think of high school. This is a choice I make because high school, despite the bumps and grinds, was the best time of my life so far. Hold on, I know what you could be thinking right now. “My gosh, what a shallow little stuck-up human being you are, Kenn! High school was the best time of your life? Ugh, that’s just sad and pathetic. You were probably popular, had lots of friends, had a cinematic lovelife and didn’t have social anxiety that’s why you love high school! Fuck y–” But I’m stopping you right there. “The best” is something relative. And right now, I am at that point in my life where I appreciate the past because it’s the only thing I am sure about. And I am so sure about high school…


I am sure that none of those sleepless nights trying to figure out Algebra was a waste, because we weren’t really dealing with those x’s and y’s and binomials anyway. We were up, yes, but we were dreaming. I’m sure we were. We were dreaming of ways to eat our lunch the next day and the ways to get our crush’s number without looking like a retard. And I’m sure that sometimes we all did look like retards, but none of that entirely mattered. Because we had so much energy in us that humiliation and consequences were but fractions of motivation that only kept us going.


I am sure that those hallways weren’t just hallways; they were our very own world stage. Those hallways had seen so much of us – from the casual chit chats and last-minute note-scanning to the cutest holding-hands sessions and the overwhelming battles of forbidden love. Secrets were blurted out, love was confessed, friendship was made, friendship was broken, all in those hallways.


I am sure our dusty classrooms during our last year in high school weren’t just classrooms, either. Underneath the drama and some inevitable social discord, those rooms had been an echo chamber of a complex yet blissful familial dysfunction. Those rooms were our homes away from home. And I’m sure we all learned at least a thing or two about teenage hormones in there.

I am sure that those first times were going to be worthwhile. That first drop of beer and vodka was merely the beginning of a journey. That night we decided we wanted to try smoking, that night we got drunk for the first time, that same night we saw ourselves not just as students but as people. All those mini fights, mini flirting, mini kisses, mini heartbreaks and mini nights-out made room for memories that were gonna be larger than life.


I am sure that puberty, sexuality, poverty, love, rape, abortion, religion, gender, suicide and child abuse were all subjects very fresh to us. Most of us were just getting to know life through a peephole, and we were stoked! We were nervous, yes, but we were ready for anything life was gonna throw at us. We knew at the back of our minds that that was the time to learn, bit by bit, and then all at once.


I am sure that everybody had a blast during that on-campus camping when we were in junior year. I’m sure that the air that night was rather intimate, but not necessarily in a sexual way. It was intimate in that it brought people who were already close even closer, and that it smelled something like a quarterback’s sweaty bedroom. I’m sure that that bonfire lit up something inside each of us, even though we weren’t conscious of it right when it happened. But it was there, happening. I’m sure that every single one of us who looked straight into that tall fleeting fire felt this underlying gratitude for being alive. We were just so full of life and hope. I’m sure that the tents we slept in, the grass we walked on and the friends we laughed with were gonna be there for the long run. We knew nothing was permanent, but we also knew that that night was gonna last for a long time. In fact, so long of a time it still lives in us today.

I am sure that one afternoon in the gymnasium was a fateful one. I was rehearsing with my co-emcee for the Sportsfest Opening, and you were standing by the gate carrying your sports gear. And you weren’t exactly looking at me the whole time, but I would stare at you every chance I got, and I saw the 4-PM sun light the left part of your body and the wind blow your perfectly straight hair just enough so that a small portion of your right eye was covered, and then revealed, and then covered again, and then revealed again, and I thought you were just beautiful – just you standing there from a close distance, looking like someone I was going to spend the rest of my life with. And of course, neither of us intensely believed that. We both knew it was all on the surface, but we didn’t care. It just felt nice. And that’s all that we could hope for that day; to feel something nice.


In a world where everything seems so ephemeral, it is a gift to be able to keep great memories close to your heart. We are almost at that point already, my dear high school batchmates. We’re in this for the long haul. We were gossiping about crushes back then, but soon enough life slaps us in the face with jobs we don’t enjoy, bosses we hate, financial crisis we can’t escape, menacing strangers and some pretty devastating bad hair days. I mean, it is the bitch of living. We will eventually lose that youthful energy we always used to own, and we will someday feel like sleeping for a decade. But I think that if we just hold on to those moments from yesterday – those minutes and hours when all we cared about was feeling something simple and nice, those nights when we were living just for the hell of it, times when we were counting clouds and not assets, months when we didn’t have to worry about rent, or how much we had in our bank, days when it didn’t matter how badly we sucked at something because we would always just laugh at it – then we can absolutely feel nice forever.

I was losing all of my energy. But I just suddenly remembered, “I was a fucking teenager with all those fucking bad-ass moves and trips”. And I still am. I will forever be.

I Pull the Trigger, Motherf*ckers!

Listen to this sh*t: WITHOUT ME by EMINEM
(while reading this awesome post)

| Written April and published May of 2010 |

I was supposed to write about how SAD and DEPRESSED I have been lately due to the twists and turns that have been taking place in my life this summer. (But after I’ve found out another crap some urine-drinking hag has been spreading, I just found myself saying “enough drama!”)

Well, we all love this sun-soaked season. With all those beach parties, poolside snacks and cocktails and non-stop partying, who doesn’t love summer?

But I have to say that summer 2010 hasn’t been fair to me.

I’ve reached the point of having too much crap already. I’ve reached the point of wanting to blow off some steam that I have chosen to keep inside my head for months (or even years, if I will let the many previous tragedies count). I even think I’ve reached the point of itching to trash talk after a long long long time.

Because in case you haven’t noticed, I tried my DAMN BEST to be a good boy the moment I stood on the grounds of senior year. But it’s true. They say being good has its price. And right now I can no longer afford it. So here I am, making things clear with everyone that I’ve had enough. That’s it! I’m done playing the “talked-about” or the “despised” or the “questioned”. I’m just through with all the people’s crap and dirt that I just want to take a jet plane and fly off to somewhere else– somewhere far from this already stinking city.

And I would also love to say that I regret meeting some of the people in high school. I regret laughing with them, talking to them and even just sitting right next to them like I never knew something was apparently wrong.

Because obviously I’m not really the Mr. Congeniality type of kid.

But what I don’t understand is that some of my haters? I actually treated them like my own brothers or sisters. And no matter how good I try to be around them, they just keep on hating me. Or maybe not really “hate”… let’s just say “detest” me.

Some of my friends asked me once “Kenn, why are you writing about haters? Do you have one? I don’t see any.”

Well great! Haha. Well I remember Therese asking me this last February. The point is, NO ONE ELSE (aside from me) KNOWS THE HARD THINGS I”VE BEEN THROUGH.

And if one day I will be crazy, like literally crazy, I wouldn’t wonder anymore. After all those crash and burn, I am convinced it will be pretty hard for me to stay as the same person I was four years ago. That easily-tricked vulnerable, fragile, obsolete person.

So here I am… with my last goodbye kiss to all my beloved HATERS:)

\”WithoutMe by Eminem\”

Hater # 1: Little Ms. Rat (Ilaga, kung sa dialect ta pa)

I named you Ms. Rat because of one simple and very understandable reason: (well, aside from the fact that you look like one)… you are a stinking rat because you only come out of your hide-out when people are not around. You wait for the right timing to infest other people’s brains. When the person you want to destroy isn’t around, then that’s the right timing for you to finally spread your ugly dispositions. Do you want an interpretation? Okay. In short, your are nothing more than a decaying PLASTIC!!! A little advice: just keep on doing what you’re doing, rat. Because you’re getting so good at it. I even thought we were actually finally getting along with each other lately, but I guess not. Once a rat, always a rat. And even if you daydream a hundred daydreams of becoming a beautiful swan, you will forever look like a quacking duck, oblivious of the reality about what is and what will forever be. I just can’t believe how when I turn my back to you, you immediately flood the hallways with your juicy rumors. So just keep talking. I don’t really care about you anymore. You’re just making me famous, you ugly duckling!

Hater # 2: Bb. Bunganga

This girl works hard just to show people everything she knows about the goings-on around the campus. She may have a not-so-big-mouth, but you know what they say! “It’s not the size, it’s the prize”. Haha. Oh well. Hey miss, never think that I will ever forget you because frankly, you are one of those many people who made my image look like hell about three years ago. You were one of those people who stick around the corner to exchange petty trash talks about people you either CAN’T HAVE or CAN’T BE. But hush. I totally understand why you’re doing all of this let’s-hate-Kenn hype! I mean, after all you’ve been through with your own lame life, of course you would surely find solace in destroying other people’s lives. But whatever. You still put the “boo” in “taboo”.

Haters # 3: The Lion, the Witch and the WAR-drobe

Why do these three always come together? Simple. Because they have one thing in common: a boring lame life. That’s the only reason why they devote about 3/4 of their precious time in talking about how other people look awkward in their imperfections, not knowing how UGLY they themselves look with their own. I feel sad about these three, though. I mean, all their lives, they have been eyeing everyone around them that they haven’t been able to look at themselves in front of their f*cking mirrors. Ang saja pa gid is WAR freak gid ni ang isa ia. Oh well daah. What can we expect from this kind of people. They have nothing (absolutely NOTHING else to offer). Just them and their silly out-of-date pettiness.

Hater # 4: Ms. Technological Tantrums

Can’t you think of any other ways to express your hatred (or shall I say “jealousy”?) against someone you obviously despise than in facebook chat or through text messaging? Oh damn. What are the odds? Well, all I can say is “bravo, Kiddo!”. You are doing an undeniably magnificent job! But do you call it “effective use of technology”? Well I call it an ultimate resemblance of retardedness and superficiality. Oh, and one more thing I hate about you is that you act like you’re this pretty little girl who thinks she can convince everyone that she is as innocent as a 30-year old virgin, but the truth is we all know you are just as WASTED as a spoiled peanut butter sandwich in the trash can. :) ) So honey, never think that you’re all that, because all people can see everytime they look at you is the face of a fish, nothing less. In short, LANGSA ka na. Inog sugba, kumbaga. :p

Hater # 5: Odd-creature-turned-fashionista-wanna-be

Ai ahai na lang. This creature hated me since the day IT saw me. Haha. I mean, come on. No one can ever (ever) deny how IT tried ITS very very best to pull me down everytime I rise up. I don’t even understand why I did cling to this creature when in fact, I know ever since that IT is a mere good-for-nothing TH. As in Tanga kag Hangag! And now the worst part about this creature is that IT confidently thinks IT will make ITS way to the runway. Well, daaaah! Of course, you will never get even just the slimmest chance of even putting just a tenth of your right foot on the runway because the truth is, you look like a homeless lunatic. And you clearly have no taste in fashion. I’m not saying that I am a fashion guru or something. I mean, I don’t even care that much about fashion as much as this creature does. But that’s exactly my point! This creature thinks all-fashion but looks like pure HELL (in the making). Hey, beyotch! Now I can sum up everything I’ve been wanting to tell you in six letters: HA-HA-HA!

Haters # 6: Batman and Gremlin (soo not Robin)

If the lion, the witch and the war-drobe always go together, well so do Batman and Gremlin! :) ) What these two do is this:

First hour in the morning: BACK STAB!

Recess time: BACK STAB!

Free period (teacher not around): BACK STAB!

Lunch time: BACK STAB!

Bookkeeping class: BACK STAB!

Dismissal: BACK STAB!

Oh whatever. But do you know what these two will be doing ten years later? Here…

Ten years later: BACK STAB!

Haha. Pieces of lemmings! Sigh. I hope one day I will be faithful enough to pray for two such poor souls as yours, Batman and Gremlin.

Now you two definitely put the “ass” in Jackass.


OH MY GULAY. It’s been three days since I’ve finished writing this post. But I decided not to publish it, or let’s just say, not to publish it yet. I mean, all of this was originally not in my plan this summer. I actually should be writing about what is going on lately, and what are my reactions to things and people, but I don’t know why I ended up composing a MAD page. Aaaaaah. This is just so unlikely. But I guess SOMETIMES, GOOD KIDS PASS THROUGH ROUGH TIMES.


I am a good person. Okay, everyone is. But there are just times when all your positive energy is being sucked out of you by certain circumstances, and you act differently. You start to get irritated, anxious and depressed. And that’s what I’m going through right now.

So forgive me, my dear haters.

Anyway, this will be the last. Sometimes I just need to be a little bit bad in order to move on.

And we all know what they say: In every good, there is evil.

Goodbye, my loves. I am gonna miss you and your pettiness. But most of all, I’m gonna miss minding your crap because this day will be the last day that I am ever going to get you inside my head.

By the next minute, you’re all out of it.

P.S. I actually have more haters, but I decided not to include them in my goodbye kiss anymore. It is, I believe, enough for the world to know that anyone of us can bounce back to every demon around us.

… For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.


Ciao, loves.

When Life Gives You Lemons, Make Strawberry Juice

My Symphonies: Afterglow by INXS
Eve, the Apple of My Eye by Bell X1
Wonderwall by Oasis
Open Your Eyes by Snow Patrol

It is indeed true that in life, there will always be a point where people start turning into thorny creatures as they begin pulling you down and every aspect of your humanity. One day, you’ll find that the people whom you’ve trusted turned out to be those antagonists that will tear you up into pieces. And when everything’s said and done, you are left with two choices: entertain the nonsense and get drowned by the paparazzi’s trash talks, or laugh it off and be happy.

It is truly hard to fight an uphill battle. But one thing’s for sure. When you’re there, battling, it’s like you can feel that you’re in that combat for something bigger…better…brighter.

And right now, I think I can see that sunlight; that shining star; that enormous salvation.

So I have been gone for two months already. I was out there, trying to relive certain moments and redefine myself. Lots have changed in a span of six weeks. The sun was just like rising yesterday and now it’s off for a hibernation. But today is another day. Five hours from now the sun will once again rise in the east, the birds will chirp and the morning dew will be beautiful as always. But before all this happens, I have to speak herein… ABOUT EVERYTHING.


The ever misunderstood. Ever controversial. Ever hated [and destroyed].

Freshman year. I was convinced that from the very moment I stood on the unfamiliar grounds of high school, life would never be the same. I was aware that there would be clashes, insurgencies, valor, hatred and devastation. I entered high school with everyone getting the impression that I am a snob, hypocrite, “plastic” and unconventional. Majority of the people that time was satisfied with the thought of me being the complete opposite of a “Mr. Congeniality” recipient.

So there. I had been the perfect image of the most cynical and mysterious earthling ever to walk on earth. I was also fairly odd-looking and socially awkward.

But it didn’t stop there. You know, sometimes, the more people get, the more they want. It’s never enough for any human being. I don’t even think “enough” exists in this typical existence. And so out of the bluest blue, I just found myself in the middle of every tussle and controversy in our batch. As far as I can recall, there was no single WORLD WAR (4A, i know you know what this means) wherein I was not involved. I always get into combats no matter how hard I try to take the different street. I have been Hatred’s favorite slave and Scuttlebutt’s favorite victim.

22378_101233536573660_7195644_nDuring my sophomore year, I was, I believe, the most fragile version of me. I admit I was as weak and as defenseless as a three-year old who’s still learning his ABC’s and 123’s. One offense against me and I was dead. Two years ago, I was this emotionally and socially unstable kid who didn’t even know what he was doing – someone who contented himself with being in the middle of things, not trying to get out of his comfort zone. That year, with many struggles and hard times, I learned how tough life can be sometimes. It is in my sophomore year that I learned that I have to get my knees harder and my backbone more stable if I want to survive life. I think that 75% of my classmates that time wasn’t really let’s say, the “FRIENDLY TYPE”. I was implicitly and psychologically bullied. 

22378_101234199906927_805573_nOne moment I was laughing hard with these people and by the next minute, I was the MAIN TOPIC of their wild and weird suspicions. Generally, I was still learning how to deal with haters. I was still discovering the secret life of The Hated and The Discussed. I was still leaving baby marks that time. Tama na ‘yung nagpapa twee-tums parati. I tended to be very delicate and sensitive with everything and everyone. But little did I know that I would somehow appreciate the things my haters did against me. Because of them, I learned to become stronger. Not really someone who’s as strong and as invincible as Superman, but stronger.


I started my junior year with a hope for a new beginning. I worked hard to redefine myself and my entourage. Firmer then than I was before, I started to create links with other people. These links led me to genuine friendships which have stood the test of time. Like what I have said in my previous blog about my junior year, it was in this year when I took everyday life experiences in very large doses. I was addicted to socialization. I took every little step which I felt would lead me to the better. I gained the trust of several people. And in the same manner, I was also able to put my trust in them. I explored the unknown and the untouched. I can say that in this year, I was able to put the previous ugly year behind me and move on. I learned that people come and go; I learned that everything happens for a reason; I learned that in order to live, I must keep on learning. Junior year taught me how to become wiser. I can pretty much say that this year had been my training ground.

I spent the rest of the year thinking how things might so severely change by the succeeding 365 days. And let’s just take a look at how drastically things [and people] can transform.

“The grass is greener where it rains”— Bell X1

So three months after that year ended, I started to sense how right and accurate my instincts were. CHANGE IS THE ONLY PERMANENT THING IN THE WORLD. And I couldn’t agree any more on this general truth. My senior year is undeniably full of twists and turns. There had been a change in looks, company, camaraderie, bonds, priorities, views in life and even in beliefs. I can say that what I had learned in my previous years in high school is successfully and effectively serving its purpose right now. I always knew that after my happy-go-lucky junior year, I will be faced with a whole new package of fiasco. And now here I am, once again rather “despised” by people – people who so desperately try to break me down and destroy my every feature. 15166_103013263055732_5988482_nLife’s still the same for me after all those head-turning experiences. IT’S STILL THE SAME. There’s still the controversy being instigated by lame people, there’s still my circle of friends, who trust me and believe in my deeds and capacities, there’s still those firecrackers that ring in my ear every free time and most importantly, there’s still that one shining piece of happiness that stays with me no matter what. I have to say that I was beginning to find life rather boring. It’s just like a senseless cycle. People hate me–> I laugh, People hate me–> I laugh and People hate me–> I laugh. But now I realize that all of this is not a nonsense. This cycle is in fact the very thing which will mold me to become perfectly invulnerable.


What I am trying to emphasize here is that if we take a look at the vast dimension of life, we can see how beautiful it is to be able to live. We can see that though everytime you rise up, there will always be people who’ll bring you down, life is still amazing. We can see how much it means to have good friends who’ll be by your side even if your flaws start to become very obvious. Because friendship isn’t about trying to be perfect for each other, but being there when the world is turned against the other.

Above all this, I learned that the only people I need in my life are those who prove they need me in theirs. I am so not born to live up to everyone’s expectations. I have my own individual differences, and so does everyone else. And it is so right that each of us is beautiful in his own ways.

Controversies have made a mark on my life already, but I never took them the wrong way. I embrace destructive circumstances constructively. Let us all learn to make strawberry juice out of lemons.

When life gives you something sour and bitter, look for ways to make something sweet out of it. You’ll never know how sweet the outcome can be.

To all my haters, I once again salute you for molding me into a better person.

I may never have been this strong if it wasn’t for you.

Now all I can say is…………………………. KEEP TALKIN’, SHAWTY!!! XD

381705_335564229800633_1385037897_nI STAY HAPPY. 🙂

Tribu B, Thanks for everything. It was fun and it’s nice to have you guys back then. I learned a lot from this group.
Invictus Guild, I know we are not that stable, but I believe that we shared something special, and that’s more than enough for me…
PNP, palangga ta gid kamo TANAN, indi lang isa, kundi TANAN. 🙂 thanks for sharing your life experiences with me, people. Thanks for being there when I need to laugh, or when I simply need people to talk to. You are one bunch of great, loud, happy people. And I am so lucky to have you guys co-exist with me here on earth. :]
Ybarzabal CouncilI know 80% of you can’t read this post, but guys, you are like my perfect getaway. Balo naman kamo na guro ah. Nga kung kita kita ga inupdanay, dula ang problema. :] Kag, MANY TO MENTION ang hamablon ko sinyo…