i want spaghetti!

I made spaghetti for dinner just awhile ago. The sauce was a mixture of tomato/spaghetti sauce, grilled pork, freshly chopped(by me!) basil leaves, and four cloves of garlic. The aroma was good and very Italian-ish, thanks to my secret ingredient, Italian seasoning. It was a joke actually, my dad called from work asking what would we like for dinner and my kuya suggested all types of delicious yet frivolous stuff for fun such as lasagna, fried chicken, and pizzas til I finally cut in, "I WANT SPAGHETTI!!!"

One hour after, the only daughter around was forced to ready the stainless pot boiling and chopping board tainted with fresh basil leaves. I was JOKING...! Hahaha. Anyway, it was rather fun messing around than reading my 35 articles of my professor all the time. Chop-chop-chop and wooooosh...my very own spaghetti!

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With a few mistakes, everything was perfect. Well, the pasta was a little too firm, the sauce too meager, and the preference of tuna instead of pork (strictly health reasons). Nonetheless, it was a tasty dinner eaten at our usual hour of 10 o' clock, near midnight. Yeah, that IS normal in this family.

Everything was fine til I twirled my last coil of spaghetti and shoved it to my already full mouth. Yes, amid the negative aura simmering just around the corner, we were perfectly okay. Parents. They are so...yeah. Anyway, not that they had any arguments that I don't know of. Too bad my spaghetti did not help either. Haha. The whole reason of me writing at this very moment is just because of this actually.

It's just sad to know if other families (with better and sophisticated food) are this unhappy at their dinner table no matter how much gorgeous food is displayed before them. Not that mine is always like this silent, with my three loud--as in laugh-til-you-drop brothers around!? This is merely just a thought like the million others I'm having now. Right?
FYI: Spaghetti and everything italian are only second to my love of sushi and everything Japanese.

maybe, just maybe

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Moulin Rouge inspired.

I dream of making a musical play. Yeah. Right.


Sometimes I wonder why dreams can't be just easier done than said and just forget that stuck up cliche? Though it kind of sounds bad, I still wish it works that way. Unfortunately, that way is not the way of the world, right? You have to work hard to get what you want, and if ever you don't get exactly what you want...half the time, you will after you trip down ten thousand times. Haha. And imagine, on the same banana peel. Eh?

Ehem..anyway, let's go back to that impossible dream.


I have always wanted to make a musical play ever since like...two years ago? Yeah, not really like the hard-core-since-born dreamers but at least, a dreamer. Now in order to achieve that, I have envisioned myself to google for a director, storyline, scriptwriter, song, musical director, choreographer, really creative producers, group of willing actors, band of singers, dance group, set of lights, and all those various entities needed for a running production. Hah. People. Where am I suppose to find you? And to be sure, where am I seeing myself in this dream production? I have no idea.


So there you have it, the dream and the problem. All I need now is to search and immerse myself to all things musical and find out if this is not just some infatuation I've again acquired through the absence of productivity and hunger of innovation and creativity within me.


I am a confusing person, I know, for my want of lots and lots and lots and lots (you get the point) of things at the same time but never focus on one thing. Consider this, as an early gradeschool blackboard lecture copier, I am the one who could not ever stick to one color of a pen nor style of writing in one sitting. I always made it a point to change my penmanship from cursive to print to cursive to print with every possible two sentences I copy. Funny yet the habit never really bothered me...until now. Even as a musician, I started out trying the six-stringed guitar at daytime and the monochromatic keys at night. Yes, it gets me surviving in the busy musical world, though lately, I am focusing more on the latter instrument. It's black and white. The point is, I just want to be sure if this is what I really want. And why. WHY. Gosh, my ever favorite question of all time. And my equally favorite answer would always be...I have no idea.


Anyhow, because of this impossible dream I am eyeing on reuniting my sense of artistic mind (still dreaming) with this Theater Center Workshop I've met two years ago. W-wait...two years ago? Okay. OKAY. Now, I GET IT. (Do you?). Inspiration came. NAH. Now that I think and write about it, at the same time, whatever made this dream impossible in the first place...is me. I claim not to be good in singing nor to be expertly musical so I therefore concluded that I AM NOT ready. But a friend (Yay! Lil bro) just reminded me awhile ago how I should get out of my shell. Haven't I? Or I must have returned once again coz I'm feeling cowardly again. But...but...

"it's not about kung mglng ka or what...that is not what it's all about. nor are you playing for laughs in other words mpsya ang audience...pmnta ka dun dhl may purpose ka. may gus2 kang i share na part of YOU"

At this age, maybe I'll never be able to claim that "HEY, I'm ready! I'm ready! I'm ready!"~spongebob all the time. No matter what I do is not yet enough (or is perfect the term?) Til I am finally am able to overcome my inner self I'll be forever be lying down waiting when I shall be ready to share this ringing silence of me. No, I can't.

One month to go. Fifty days to go. Maybe, just maybe I am meant for something better than this.