endeavors with the wicked

friend - a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard.
true but what if that "friend" does not feel the same? what if all that you have done is merely just "appreciated" and your gestures are meaningless in that person's viewpoint? being nice is apparently insufficient in gaining a truly deep meaningful relationship with the people you care for.

friend - a person who gives assistance; patron; supporter: friends of the Boston Symphony.
if this is true, why does it seem that every time you helped out a "friend", you get the feeling that the person is only nice to you because you've helped them? why is it that certain "friends" only contact you when you are needed? why can't these "friends" call for a cup of coffee? or if they are busy shouldn't they make time?

friend - a person who is on good terms with another; a person who is not hostile: Who goes there? Friend or foe?
how are lies being "good terms with another"? you can't deny that lying is part and parcel of a friendship. if lying and keeping secrets are what make good friends, then i'd have lots of good friends indeed.

sigh. what is a "friend" anyway? the definitions above from dictionary.com is definitely insufficient in describing the word. i used to be able to feel happy when i think about this word. lately though, i am slowly learning to take up on my words about being fireproof, to close out the vulnerable part of myself so that none can lay emotional control over it. sad. but this is growing up i guess.

urban stampede

nothing could be more contrary than the holiday that is thanksgiving. how does one justify eating turkey (not to mention the fact that at least 50 million turkeys are slaughtered during thanksgiving each year) as giving thanks and being grateful for the year that has passed? how is thanksgiving a religious holiday when it was actually celebrated by a bunch of settlers from europe 400 years ago? most importantly, how do you give thanks and count your blessings and be happy with what you have when a few hours later, almost every american family goes off on a spending spree as if they are not happy with what they presently have and must have even more after devouring their turkeys. it's as if a hunger of a different sort has awaken within them when they feast on the poor birds.

this hunger shows us how ugly the human species can become when they turn selfish and greedy. it is sad to see that thousands of people trampled a walmart employee to death out of the need to save a couple of hundred of dollars. it is even sadder to see that, out of that thousand of people, not one stopped to help the worker or to seek medical attention for him. instead, all of them rushed in and stepped on even more employees who had tried to help their colleague.

while americans feasted on stuffed birds and celebrated a holiday, hundreds of people were killed in the streets of mumbai. i wonder how many americans were actually aware of this unfortunate event and actually stopped to mourn for the dead and counting their blessings instead of rushing off to the nearest electronic store.

the dark nature in us is always there, hidden sometimes by a facade of kindness towards the people we care. but the truth is, the dark nature is always there. while we deny it, we know that we are nice to the people we love because these people are somewhat "our own". we hardly care what happens to the people over in iraq or the girl who was raped or the store that closed down because of the economy. no, we do not care much for these at all because we are all selfish in nature. i do not deny that there are selfless individuals who make the world a better place but in reality, all of us are only human and no matter what, everyone is greedy, snobbish and self-centered to a certain degree. i only hope that the people who were in the walmart store, who had caused the death of another are human enough to feel miserable and sorry for what they have done.

the facts are these:

the most creative, the most witty, the most inspiring television show is dying a premature death.

this show has been created to not only entertain bored souls at 8pm every wednesday but it has also been created to inspire and to instigate the most simple of minds to be picassos on their own terms. the idea of a person able to bring undeath to the dead is fresh. the idea of that person being a reclusive pie-maker is even fresher. and perhaps the freshest idea for this show is that this person is in love with a girl that he cannot touch, literally.

what do you get when you mix hearty homemade pies, buzzing bees, bright daisies, and curious dead people in a cauldron and start boiling it like soup? the lovable show called Pushing Daisies of course. an already appealing gourmet soup, this show is also often peppered with good old morbid humor and garnished with the ocassional irony.

shows like these are amusing. they are different from the boring hospital dramas, ridiculous tales of super-powered people or the pointless reality shows that seem to congest the electronic tube these days. its storybookesque narration keeps you fascinated, glued to the sit. the clever conversations and witty remarks you thought you would never find on a television show never fails to captivate whoever that listens.

sadly, shows like these are rare. in fact, i have a feeling i will be having a hard time looking for another show with this level of masterful execution of storytelling. it appears that people of this day and age prefer crude humor. people like these are the people who are in charge of deciding on whether to let the show die prematurely or to give it a touch of undeath and bring it back to life. given the fact that these people in power love dramas concerning a group of spinsters vying for an ugly-tistical man with a huge clock strapped on his ugly-tistical neck, the verdict is probably the former.

however, i will hope against hope that it is the latter. after all, this show has taught me to believe in the magical. let's hope against hope that the coeur d'coeurs within the directors at ABC is made out of daisies. =)

update: looks like there's no pie-maker around to save the show. =( it's confirmed. it's cancelled. it's dead. a beautiful piece of contemporary "art" taken off the face of the world. read about its demise here. now, help me look for another piece of "art", please.

fire fire your pants on fire

wind-whipped flames rolled through brea this sunny afternoon. clouds of smoke dominated the sky as i drove down the 57. they were grayish white in color and blended extremely well with the sunny sky i thought they were clouds. it wasn't until i got to the cal poly field (for footie =) ) that i found out homes in brea and yorba linda were ablaze. i thought about the traffic due to freeways being closed. i thought about the envirornment due to the smoke. i thought of the poor now-homeless victims of the fire. what started as an innocent brush fire quickly spread to communities due to the eager strong winds coming in from the south. an innocent fire, causing heartaches, lives, property losses and environmental damages. an innocent fire appearing to be totally harmless can easily devastate thousands of lives.

it seems that such a fire exists too in the social web that is our relationship to the people who matters the most to us. like the brush fire, small at first, harmless at first but there, ready to set everything in its path aflame with the right push. this fire, this tendency to hurt is there. sometimes even without the strong winds, this fire can spread without reason and explanation. being burned hurts especially if the burning is done by someone you thought close to you. yet, like the fire in brea, the fires of the heart can be doused with a simple spray of water. forgivance is always within me that i can always look past what has been done. distrustfulness is a trait i find hard to obtain. yet, to be fire-proof, a sense of distance should be instilled. perhaps, i should learn a lesson in cynicism. maybe there is a "cynicism for dummies" book out there that i could pick up...

wordplay and rain

as i sat at my desk by the window watching, the rain poured, slow and gentle at first, violent and brutal a few minutes later. trickles of water streaming down my windowpane. i stared at the forlorn water-drenched garden outside and as always, a sudden influx of insights, like the sudden waves on a beach, entered my already-filled thoughts. always, i've let ideas and plans of grandeur, pass by as fleeting thoughts. always, i've disregarded these as nothing more than hopeful thinking. always, i thought but never acted. but on this rainy morning, a desire, almost an itch that i cannot shake off - like the ones you'd get from huge jungle mosquitoes - to jot down everything i was thinking of at that moment began from somewhere deep within. i don't know why but days like these have always affected me in a way that i could never explain enough.

rain, i've always liked rain. the crisp smell of water in the air, a fresh relief from the stale suffocating hot sunny days.

rain, it has always managed to put a smile on my face. no matter what i will always find solace in dark cloudy days. like a small bubble, like a sanctuary of sorts, rainy days are my days.

rain, like the delivery boy next door, brings bundles of goods, only that the goods come in the form of inspirations and the desire to do more with life.

rain, a synonym for emotional respite. the rain, the dark clouds, the occasional howling winds, and the inseparable couple of lighning and thunder all create a perfect atmosphere where i would feel cozy and comfortable just lying next to the fireplace reading a book while drinking a cuppa coffee.

rain, the Sirens from within. it would call to you, lure you deeper into your dreams if you are asleep. never would you ever want to climb out of the bed when it rains.

hence, rain and falling droplets are always welcomed and welcome to Falling Droplets.