The Terrible Writings of Quentin Montejo
Serial experiments on a fallen archangel who only wanted to regain just one wing back
Here it Goes, the Anxiety
I have said it before and I'll say it again.

None of the most personal plans I make ever come into fruition. It's like when I try to plan this, some event would happen that renders it un-happenable. It does make me feel disappointed big time.

Perhaps that's the reason why I have become impulsive.

Since plans suck at coming true anyway, why not just go and do whatever I like the moment it crosses my mind?

Buuuut, that's not the topic for this post.

It's because this June, I'll planning what will happen to me for the whole month. No, it's not planning what to do and stuff. That's way different. It's more like predicting.

First two weeks of June, I'll be anxious, for reasons personal.

Come June 18 or whenever, I think I'll start becoming normal again. I'd be able to talk normally, think like it's the first day of my job and I'd be able to do stuff that matters to my work.

Sometimes I do hate myself. Sometimes I don't. One thing's for sure, it's something I have to live with.

Changed my avatar in YM btw.
The Maiden
- Q.Montejo

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She has eyes as deeply moving as a mourning sea
When they close, its as if clouds refuse to breathe
Just so they could wait again for them to open
Only her gently glowing eyes can move them again

A bouquet of roses, her eyes rested willfully on
Its color vivid and comely as the velvet night sky
What does she think of beauty, be it a rose?
If color be like fragrance, does it not have all?

Only these flowers knew the sound of her heart
As the maiden kept them close to her, almost embracing
Enough to feel the tempo of heartbeats stop and start
Echo a chorus in stanzas segmentedly harmonizing

Was it sadness? No, it was too happy for that tune
Was it happiness? No, it was too silent for joyful voices
Yet all the words in the world fell short of a meaning
To describe this portrait of the maiden and the roses

She has eyes as deeply moving as a mourning sea ...
Cool and calming like the aftermath of a rainy day
And the roses that reached to touch those raindrops
It, and it alone knew what those eyes tried to say ...
Sunday Night at Nadja's
Had some nice food at Nadja's place last night. And a certain, kiddie-flavoured liquor ...

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The people: Nikki, Nadja, Chuck, Jam, and Liza

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Nadja and a niece(?)

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The front seat women

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Nadja and her pet horse

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This is Nikki. It's blurred because I think I've already had too much liquor. That or I need to get a camera with better blur-reduction

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The brownies we were munching on

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Liza's award-winning smile (at award-winning hair)

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Najda with the Zoolander look

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Jam's novelty gift -- a picture of our first meeting in Palawan :) Sweet
Sukob Na! 17:28
Tuwing umuulan ay naaalala tayong dalawa
Kay sarap isipin
Na may kasama sa buhay pag bumaha

Sukob na, halika na
Sabay tayo sa payong ko
Hawak na, kapit pa
Sa payong ko magkasama tayo ...
Hinding-hindi ka pababayaan
Na mag-isa sa ulan
Aalagaan, magtatawanan
Wala na 'tong iwanan ...

Sukob na, halika na
Sabay tayo sa payong ko
Hawak ka, kapit pa
Umula't, bumagyo magkasama tayo ...

Di ko na inakala pa, na ika'y paparito
Ngunit salamat na lamang
At dumating ka sa buhay ko ...

Sa payong ko
Magkasama tayong dalawa ...
A Longer Post
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It's a rainy night tonight.

Just posted to realize one thing. I think I've somehow graduated on something. Like a phase from child to teen, and teen to adult. But what's after adult? (er ... something before middle-age ok?)

I bought two gifts yesterday, though funny it is to think that it's just for one person. It's a set of fridge magnets and a car freshener.

I'm sort of thinking that since they're like really cheap, throw-it-back-to-me-coz-they're-cheap gifts, I thought of giving it meaning. Put it on a label with my handwriting. I wouldn't care anymore if it's appreciated or not, because I thought of that beforehand.

If it's liked, then all is well is good :) If not, then, hell, they're cheap to begin with, so no big loss (haw haw haw, I'm so hideously smart).

I actually got this idea from what Nadja was putting in her blog. And since writing is what I'm remotely good at, here is what they mean:

Fridge magnets -- to remind you to put up what's important in your life, make them your priority. (a deeper meaning would be ...) to remind you of the refridgerator it is stuck to, because without food you ... will be hungry (real eloquent, Shakespeare)

Car freshener -- to remind you to feel good about yourself, and let that feeling follow you wherever you go. (and the deeper meaning would be ...) to remind you of the mirror it is hung on, because it's the only mirror that lets you see both your loved ones riding with you, and the place you've been.

However, I did have something I wanted to give other than the fridge magnets -- aaand it's a door chime. Just a little something you hang on to your door knob so you know someone's going in or out. I already had a meaning attached to it, and it goes like ...

Door chime -- to remind you to take note the people who comes and goes in your life, to remember what they have contributed to what your are now. (aaaand the deeper meaning would be ...) to remind you of the door knob it is hung on because ... y'know, what's a door without a door knob? (alright, I think I squeezed my brain dry and appear like a buffoon)

I still have the urge to go get one, and I know just the thing in Podium.

Anyway, the reason for the two gifts is because it's sort of a joke. I couldn't possibly give a house and a car as gifts, so instead, I thought of something you put in them when you get those from somebody else :D

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Let light guide you on your way
I Wish You ...
- Q.Montejo

{ woo, i made a poem! }

Here's how the guitar goes
As I write a poem for you
Wonder how you'll fare
In a place away, so far away

Open that window sill
Let that sunrays spill in
Wonder how you'll wake up
To a different morning

All I could do is
Wish you a pretty sunset trace
Just enough soft, gentle light
To shine on your pretty face

Wonder how you'll carry a hat
On some strange windy beach
And how you'll giggle
That it'll fly away, so far away ...

So all I could do is
Wish you a sweet view
When mornings greet you
With oceans of deep blue

Wonder what pictures you'll put
On top of your office desk
You never had any here though
So that made me wonder a bit so

Because all I could do is
Wish you all the good things
So you can show your smile there
... the one thing you took away here

I hear the music of your life
Playing a lively, beautiful tune
I couldn't help but just listen to it
Maybe mine will play like that someday soon ...
Cruel, Small, Little Things
I don't know what to make of this feeling.

It's like a numbed needle prick you think you can ignore. But it's there. You feel it's there.

Amidst the drone of voices of people conversing and teammates declaming project specifications ... the only one I can hear is myself.

A numbed little voice that can only say one thing: you're leaving.

I'm trying to listen to an mp3
You're leaving
I'm trying to read something good on the net
You're leaving
I'm trying to work on an assignment
You're leaving
I'm trying to think what to say to you
You're leaving
I'm trying to be happy for you
You're leaving
But all I can hear in my head is ...
You're leaving

Bah, I'll get over it. I always do.

But yeah, I'm happy for you.
Aaaaan Something to Cheer Up This Blog
Company outing was a blast. Here are a few (very few) of the pictures

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This is a resort in Balai Batangas

And here we have the many HAPPY faces of Grace :)

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Aaaaand some night shots of the place :)

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Nurimad's Paradox
- Q. Montejo

{ unfinished, unpolished -- will work at it - Quents }

He was a painter in a town that lived ages ago
Of some reknown for the talents that has slept in his hands
Nurimad was what people called him, "The Unmirrored Painter"
For he has a curse, that he can never see himself in a mirror

"I have painted the faces of kings and peasants alike
And of myriad kinds of smiles and frowns and sadness
Yet my heart is not content and it aches for something
That no one can tell me what I look like

Children can be told, "That you look like your father"
"With the cheerful eyes and grin that is your mother"
And they can look at their parents and see that it is
"I look like you, and your eyes are a perfect blue"

People can see me, they can tell me what I look like
Yet I yearn to see for myself how people see me as
Do I have the
Eight Months
So ... it's been eight months in this new company I'm in. Man, that long already?

Time flies by so fast when your days are filled with stuff to do. It's both exhilirating and disturbing at the same time.

I wouldn't want my time to go TOO fast.

Yeah, there are things I need to pause for and think about. Okay, maybe not think too much which was my undoing in the past.

Right. My mind is a bit numbed lately. I couldn't think about anything else than work, online gaming, beaches, "say goodnight and go ...", sleep, taking pictures ... yeah, life is brimming, baby.

The other thing that disturbs me is that I want to go faster.
Return of Random Thoughts
Okay enough of the melodramatic entries. Changing moods.


This week I think I'm cured. Yeah, I was afflicted with an interestingly disgusting condition. If you don't want to read it, just skip this part. For about two weeks, I was having extra large boogers. And by the size of it, it's declared a country of its own. I think it was a mutated cold virus, that instead of giving me the sniffles, it decided to be extra ugly and did that condition to me.

Now that's over, I now have only cute, little boo ... okay kidding D:


Beach this Saturday! Woohoo!

Time to flaunt my hard-earned abs!



I need to listen to more music. Gray days are bad and boring.


Say goodnight and go ... say goodnight and go ... why'd you have to be so cute, it's impossible to ignore you ...

Ugh. Have to get that song outta my head. It's hypnotic, but it's uh ... girly. Yeah.


I think my life is in various stages of disorganization. Reason?

Well, there can be only one reason for those things -- online games :o

Do I get off the habit? Do I? Huh?

I have revived my old RF Online account. It's way cheaper to play that than RAN Online.

Incidentally, I have a level 42 Dark Priest (Reave) in Praxis server. Currently farming in Ether and warping people there for a living :D


*listening to Redemption Song by Bob Marley*
A Short Letter to Mom
Hi Ma,

This is your kid, trying to say some stuff he never did. And probably never had a chance to tell you.

I love you mom. Let me start off with that. I know that you love us unconditionally, and that you have done everything, and I mean EVERYTHING that you could possibly do to show that. If anyone has done a more passionate job in your line of work, you could have a medal for doing so. Nay, maybe tons of medals, some of them I'll make myself out of gold.

It's a given that I couldn't possibly write everything here. Nor would I know how to fully show my appreciation and thanks. I haven't been a good kid lately, I know. And there have been phases in my life that you should've seen, but as circumstances have it, will remain untold, and best left out. Perhaps I wouldn't want you to see, as some struggles I prefer dealing on my own terms.

I just want you to realize that, there are things that come to this: that I must use my wings to fly. To places where we want to go. To get hold of my dreams. Even if it means that doing so breaks your heart. I'm sure you'll understand. I don't know if you understand now, but I know you will someday.

I love you mom. Happy Mother's Day.
Rippin the Night Time
He watches his friends sing their hearts out.

He sits there, eyes beaming in the midst of the crowd, pushing songs for the videoke while basking in the joyous atmosphere. Ironic of the fact that it's a despedida party of a friend. It's just fun, so he gets it on.

People come and go in this life.

He comes and goes too. That's what he thinks. With or without reason, such things happen. He also thinks he should stop writing things like this in a sappy, stupid blog.

Sometimes, you don't see that. It's all just a sequence of events in a television, interrupted by brief commercials that grow into you with their jingles and repetitive messages.

They say people need goals in life. He has one now. He just doesn't know why he has it. It's just there, but he's going to take it nonetheless.

Life is a game you'll lose if you don't play. Or so he thinks. If things like this aren't so metaphorical, he would've had tons of scars by now from being reckless.

He kids to himself, what if he's been born a dolphin. Intelligent enough to have known himself and the world, but carefree enough to not delve into sappy, stupid blogs that shrinks would have a field day naming clinical conditions.

But, right now, he's here to just have some fun. Voluntarily ripping out his vocal chords trying to hit a high note by an ear-numbing decibel wail.
The Hermit and the Void
He listens to an mp3 of Hinder.

It's morning, and he just got in the office in his barong. As usual he came in sipping a tetri-pack of Chuckie, but instead of thinking of work, he's thinking about some game.

Feh. He never changes.

Today he again ponders on another silly decision. It bugs him that he couldn't make up his mind about it before. But now, it seems that sentence repeats again and again in his frayed brain.

There is nothing for me here.
There is nothing for me here.
There is nothing for me here.

Bah, go suck an egg.

Earlier this year, he wanted to get himself his own house or place or whatever.

But now ...

He is thinking of something else now: there is nothing for him here.

Originally, he thought of it as a foolish, lovesick notion to follow someone. Then he decided, this is something he must do for himself, and himself alone.

Tomorrow, he'll start doing something about it. This urban hermit wants to go away.
Of Justifiable Laziness
I think I'm beginning not to be interested in writing anymore.

Not :D

There's just some stuff on my mind right now that I want to focus on, so blogging activity has decreased. One for each aspect of my life.

The highlight of this all is, I am once again faced with a question I hated coming across. I don't think I've become cynical. Just wussified. Which is worse, lol.

Then again, if I think about it ... this could very well be my dream.

And it's been so long since I ever dreamt of something.

Let me have a dream to chase after. Let me stop having dreamless sleeps. And if this dream causes me pain again, let me feel no disappointment, no hopelessness ...

Sorry, trying to warm up for a poem, lol.

But come to think of it, none of my dreams ever came true. Wonder if life is on to me >:D


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