Mellow

My starving ears may have its fill of euphoric, adrenalin-dripped thumping sounds of the dance floor. But when I am disarmed and my heart is exposed, the songs on my playlist mellow to these:Natalie Walker - ColorblindHeard the song played on Jam 88.3's A Different Sunday one evening and the melody got stuck in my ears ever since. The Counting Crow's cover speaks of someone's willingness to come

Linger

There were two boys in a corner. One held a guitar, his back was against the wall. He was about to strum his musical instrument, as the other boy watches."Madali-dali ang chords nito," the boy with the guitar said.In front of them was a song book. One that is printed in newsprint and had a glossy front cover. It doesn't matter where the song book came from. The essence was in the music.- Em:

Una

The idea for my first blog entry of the year was to write my twelve resolutions. But the plan was brushed aside when JC took this photo with his Panasonic Lumix G2 Camera. My partner then uploaded it on Twitter. The close-up of a weed with overcast skies in the background had left me spellbound. The subject conjures mixed feelings of tranquility and isolation. There is something about the

Euphoria Morning

Chris Cornell's Sunshower was played many times over on NU-107. And yet, I didn't bother listening to it from start to finish. I might have found Cornell's vocals too raw, or the song gained radio airplay at a time when my sound preference had already shifted to Electronic music.It is only when the song was played - for the last time - by the same radio station did it hit me with elegiac

Rakista

Frustration ko talaga ang kumanta.  Noong hindi pa ako tuli at nagagawa ko pa ang mag-soprano ay nakasali pa ako sa choir ng high school namin.  Isang taon rin yun.  Natanggal lang ako nang magsimulang pumiyok na ang boses ko.  May inter-school competition kasi na sasalihan ang school at kesa magkalat ako at matalo kami ay piniling tanggalin na lang ako ng choirmaster sa roster. Hindi na ako

The Home of NU Rock

There in front of me is an empty stretch of a road. The witching hour is no reason to rest our weary souls. The sky is dark and brooding, but paper deliveries had to be made. A city hungers for recycled news, trash cannot wait.Seated at the passenger seat, I command the dashboard and the FM station. The driver obeys. I am the son of his boss after all. I switch the tuner to 107.5 and catch Eels