Uplifting Aggressive Fix - Progressive Metal (Playlist)

Credits to the owner.

The inspiration behind this goes way back to the mid 2000s - I was feeling a bit down and begged everyone on a message board to make me an "Uplifting Rock" playlist. A couple of people were kind enough to oblige, one in particular sent me a ZIP file with tracks, ranging from folk to metal, already in order / sorted out.

This is my attempt to return the favor to whoever needs it (appropriately overdue by 10 years or so), albeit in a more aggressive, prog metal form. (This is not going to be everyone's cup of tea, sorry.)

1. Begin - Intervals
2. Where Are The Birds - Good Tiger
3. Sweet Tea - Polyphia
4. Automaton - Intervals
5. Coming For You - Twelve Foot Ninja
6. Next In Line - Dead Letter Circus
7. Language I - Intuition - The Contortionist
8. Erised - Periphery
9. Allure - Skyharbor
10. Wanderlust - Every Time I Die
11. Strawberry Swisher pt. 3 - Dance Gavin Dance
12. Have A Blast - Bulb
13. One Step - Dead Letter Circus
14. Seven Names - TesseracT
15. New Day - Karnivool

Made a Youtube playlist for your convenience. Enjoy.

Rewind: Want

I once was content and grateful for the gift of vision. I indulged in admiration of whichever was presented before me, though I know not everything is pleasing to the eye. So I'd like to think I hide behind my beloved wall where two holes are conveniently placed for a peeping tom, me, so I could easily veer off into the darkness when I see something I didn't want to see, or see something staring back at me - to avoid the awkwardness.  For a brief period of time, this "control" mechanic was more than enough entertainment. I wasn't that picky, and I relatively led a simple life.

But now I hunger for a more sophisticated distraction. I am, after all, human. So I forced the turning of the page of this bored stillness to a much lively and interesting curiosity. I now stand before a world governed not by sight, but by touch. The touch of curiosity, fascination, and a desire well-thought of. One hand over the flames of an exquisite candle, my Loch Ness monster, I feel it sting. Blisters begin to swell, but no matter how many times I tell myself to quit, I remain gullible - because at the end of the day, I know the reward is worth the risk.

- April 18, 2008

Listening to

"Forrest Gump" - Frank Ocean

Rewind: Rats

2007 with Jogalz and Maloy

My head is at a stand still, and it's utterly depressing. It does its routinary escapes here and there, but nothing of real interest seems to happen anymore... not today nor yesterday. Not ever since my apex. Wait. I think I do remember something... Ah yes, it was a dream I had yesterday.

I dreamt about eating a sandwich with a live rat inside. It tasted funny with the first bite, and I looked inside in confusion. And there he was- the little black critter, laying still like nobody's business, with whiskers on a constant subtle bob. Up-down-up-down -up-down... I thought he was trying to be cute. Without thinking, I jerked the lettuce he seemed to be nestled on and with perfect rodent reflexes, he jumped out of the sandwich and scampered across the room to a nearby door. The little thing startled me so bad that I dropped my defiled sandwich. A few minutes later, I found out I was eating his excrements.

With this quality of entertainment, who needs to think?

- September 23, 2008

At the time, it seemed like an appropriate filler post for a day in dire need of fillers.

Listening to

"Pop Thieves" - Childish Gambino

Unfinished Noodling

I recently found this lying around in my external hard drive. I did this in 2013, but was never able to finish it. I thought I might as well just render the thing and share, lest it be forever lost and forgotten.

Speaking of noodling, I think I've had several other 'projects' in the works that never got to see the light of day. Dub me the unfinisher. I think I've a knack of boring myself when it comes to my own creative pursuits. Or - if I'm being completely honest - I've set pretty ridiculous standards for myself that ultimately only cripples my creativity and my drive to 'share' these things.

Be more forgiving, I've been telling myself for the past few years - and it seems I'm making progress! Because here I am - sharing. :)


Listening to
"Cages" - Tesseract

Rewind: Fuel

On a completely unrelated note (as usual), here I am forever blowing bubbles with family. Happy Birthday Hayley! :)

I let my thoughts run wild until everything smiles at me. The smiles of hope, I figure, and I'm very much seduced - but only for a moment until I involuntarily let loose the restless cynic that has long taken residence in me. It indulges with a hearty appetite, and fascination gets the better of me each time, unable to retaliate. I lie still in awe, watching as it single-handedly turns this utopia upside down. Cruel but careful. Healthy. Sane. Just... it claims.

But this utopia remains an unsatisfied drug, and it naturally finds a place where cynicism cannot destroy it, and find it does. It becomes fuel for dreams. And in my sleep I blissfully get intoxicated - its warmth hauntingly addictive. It's a good few hours of unperturbed bliss, but it hurts like a nasty hang-over when I wake up. And as I sit and wipe my eyes, I greet this cruel consciousness like a close friend. Fair-weathered and caring as it may present itself to be. Me and my careful compromise.

- March 26, 2008

Listening to

"In The Waiting Line" - Zero 7

Rewind: This Weather is Strange

Some time in 2007, I was waiting for Kaskade to come out.

This weather is strange. See it relentlessly whip lightning after lightning behind the congregation of clouds, and the howls of thunder chanting back and forth from the farthest edges of the dark sky. This must be armageddon, and I feel the dread of fear embrace me like a black veil. The world it wreaks havoc on lays still and helpless perhaps to show respect and awe. Fear before the power of what once was calm and dormant - somehow angered by forces unknown. And little by little, the leaves start to make the music of rain. 

I can still see the flashes of light from the corner of my eye. There's an eerie chill to how the drapes sway back and forth in rhythm with the east wind that comes every now and then. I refuse to face the window head on out of fear- but there's this warmth that stirs inside me, like a child being called by its mother. Suddenly, I knew why it was angry. Or isn't. It calls for me. I obey.

- May 2, 2008

Here I go again - being weird one late night. According to what's been written above, it was raining that night. (duh)

Listening to

"The Way I Feel" by Matt Wertz

Cover: "Nowhere Fast" Incubus

I've been listening to Make Yourself for the longest time but only now decided to learn the guitar parts to some of the other songs. This one is from Nowhere Fast. I recorded some other covers at the time but I just had to squeeze this in there really quickly in just one take (screwed up several times, but no biggie).

Rewind: I Sit

Baby Tingkagol in 2005.

I refuse to fall down. I sit. Though every bone in my body aches, and giving in to closing these heavy eyes to a night's worth of fleeting slumber is too inviting - I choose to sit. I wouldn't know why, but I remain stubborn; refusing to let the natural forces beckon me, all the while feeling a twisted sense of power that I've somehow defied some primeval law of nature. I pride myself. Here's a guy who thinks he knows what he's doing. But I don't. Yet all my senses are sparked.

Maybe I wanted to get a better grip of the few inanimate figures big and small sprawled before me - or simply wanting to hear the rustling answer of the dead leaves to the wind. I think to myself... maybe. I gradually begin to pick things out bit by bit - like how cold the wind is, or if these leaves would easily become the flame from my lighter - or would the wind allow it? I don't know. All I know is that they're here for me as strange pacifiers, and we lazily let time pass under the faint glow of the stars, granting us permission to indulge and simply be.

Such seductive power. And like the rising tide, my self-awareness and conceit rises with every scar and crevice in my body introducing themselves as if they were childhood friends. But just as the tide recedes, I realize that I'm in the shadows, sitting on a tightrope with the vast emptiness lurking underneath, refusing to fall. I try hard not to, until something banishes the shadows with light. Love, perhaps? Maybe.

- March 12, 2008

Rewind: Lost in a Stranger's House

With Ate Adit, Mandaluyong 2009.

When I got home that night, I entered a stranger's house. I could make out the dining table and living room furniture as they formed silhouettes against the glass windows and the faint glimmer from the marble floor. Something was evidently different about it. Or me. It was me, I guess. I stopped and listened and all I could hear in the dead silence was this faint cry from the depths of my soul, like it was exhaling its last few breaths before it dies.

I opened a can of beer, holed myself in a room, and stared at the lamp as it painted the walls yellow. I was staring at the dream... The beer tasted ridiculously bad, as did everything else. But I stared on with not a single thought, and then it dawned on me - I have never felt this empty in my life.

- May 23, 2008

First of all, I was caught by surprise when I read this again. Just, whoa. Super emo mode si kuya. lol. I do vividly remember how I felt that night many moons ago. Personally, I'm glad I was able to preserve snapshots like these in my life - even if only in writing. I'm a firm believer that you feel most alive when you're subjected to such emotional distress, and I'm glad I'm able to look back to a time when I was ultimately able to tell myself: this is what it feels like to be alive. And though I was obviously sad at the time, it was at least intertwined with an equally cathartic revelation.

Listening to

"Champagne" by Polyphia

Rewind: Shreds of Paradise

This was when I was waiting for someone in the car back in 2011.

She wakes up. The bliss has once again been cut short as she is plunged back into the world where the skin bleeds real blood. A "paradise" likened to an anemone- hiding its tendrils as if threatened by the rusty sticks of careless aboriginal divers, welcoming the insane rush of consciousness- like a stake driven through broken bone and blood--- all too familiar, but hurts each time.

She makes her way anyway, wading through the thickening crowd. She sees this world in gray with drowsy eyes--- remnants of what once was a flourishing enthusiasm for colors and shapes... waned through the years. But something catches her eye every now and then. She smiles, says hello, lets out a few hugs- ones she wished she'd never have to let go. She sees another, and another. Her embrace grows tighter- eyes closed. This is it. These are the fragments and substitutes to her paradise, however dwarfed and insignificant, they are the pieces to the puzzle. They hold the key to make it a reality, once and for all. Maybe. But when all's said and done, she drinks her last shot of tequilla and makes her way home.

home.

The word has such a lonely ring to it....  and it hits her. Why am I so alone? A twitch, and her skin burns. Her spasms come back, and in no time they amass into an orchestra of pain. Liars! The so-called shreds of paradise--- ALL LIES! She lashes out. With all her strength, she seeps out all memories of the day and throws them out the window like a useless deck of cards. She slumps on the bed bawling, gulps down two or three sleeping pills- barely choking on one. Her eyes wide open, pondering where she had left off and where she wishes to begin. Sobs. More sobs.... then her eyes cave in.

...the night is kind.

(from the friendster blog, June 7, 2007)

Listening to

"Sober" - Childish Gambino