Let those cracked bells toll for it is my last weekend before I add yet another number to my age!
I have not made a big deal out of March despite its being my month. I could if I had the chance but my ideas germinate when I'm home in front of my own computer. See, I'm currently unhooked at home right now so...
All fans should know by now that the JP, AU, NZ and HI dates of the Vertigo Tour have been postponed (read: not canceled) because of illness in a U2 member's family. My heart goes out to the band because as hard as it is to face these trials, for them to bring on the energy every single night of the tour over the last twelve months takes an inordinary amount of faith and courage. Prayers go out to all of them.
This morning, I left the house at around 5:30 to get to the office before 6:30. We needed to leave early for Cainta because of the Serbisyo Muna Caravan. We arrived at Cainta a little after seven and since they were still setting up, I decided to wander around (like I always do) my childhood semi-stomping grounds.
The first thing I decided to do was get some cash off the atm. I found the only BPI in the area and as I was walking towards it, I passed by some flower vendors that happened to be opposite the town church. I remembered Lolo Iliong's funeral and how I haven't paid a visit to his grave in so many years. That was enough motivation for me so I bought a bouquet of flowers and headed to the cemetery.
The place looked even grittier now than it did back in '88. The large industrial mill loomed in the cemetery's backdrop as if to say it didn't give no shite about those who rest. It was more depressing than being surrounded by the dead, really.
I laid the flowers on top of Lolo Iliong's grave, right at his marble name plate. I kind of said sorry for not visiting as often as I could have. Pretty childish but what am I if not that, huh? In RHETORIC!
I spent like a minute there and left. Two reasons: I didn't want to get all emotional neither did I want to be salvaged the next morning, chopped up and wrapped in newspaper. Come on! The place was empty and seemed like the perfect place to dump slashed out-of-towners. It's them stupid Wes Craven movies, I tell ya.
I have not made a big deal out of March despite its being my month. I could if I had the chance but my ideas germinate when I'm home in front of my own computer. See, I'm currently unhooked at home right now so...
All fans should know by now that the JP, AU, NZ and HI dates of the Vertigo Tour have been postponed (read: not canceled) because of illness in a U2 member's family. My heart goes out to the band because as hard as it is to face these trials, for them to bring on the energy every single night of the tour over the last twelve months takes an inordinary amount of faith and courage. Prayers go out to all of them.
This morning, I left the house at around 5:30 to get to the office before 6:30. We needed to leave early for Cainta because of the Serbisyo Muna Caravan. We arrived at Cainta a little after seven and since they were still setting up, I decided to wander around (like I always do) my childhood semi-stomping grounds.
The first thing I decided to do was get some cash off the atm. I found the only BPI in the area and as I was walking towards it, I passed by some flower vendors that happened to be opposite the town church. I remembered Lolo Iliong's funeral and how I haven't paid a visit to his grave in so many years. That was enough motivation for me so I bought a bouquet of flowers and headed to the cemetery.
The place looked even grittier now than it did back in '88. The large industrial mill loomed in the cemetery's backdrop as if to say it didn't give no shite about those who rest. It was more depressing than being surrounded by the dead, really.
I laid the flowers on top of Lolo Iliong's grave, right at his marble name plate. I kind of said sorry for not visiting as often as I could have. Pretty childish but what am I if not that, huh? In RHETORIC!
I spent like a minute there and left. Two reasons: I didn't want to get all emotional neither did I want to be salvaged the next morning, chopped up and wrapped in newspaper. Come on! The place was empty and seemed like the perfect place to dump slashed out-of-towners. It's them stupid Wes Craven movies, I tell ya.
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