The Terrible Writings of Quentin Montejo
Serial experiments on a fallen archangel who only wanted to regain just one wing back
To Which I Call, the Verdant Calm
The best revenge against the great disappointments in life ... is to live well.

That's what I told Alice out of the blue a few years ago. I dunno why I remember that now. I never really gotten used talking with naturally grey-irised people even though at times I could articulate the things I say rather well.

Sometimes she doesn't even listen and looks rather bored (better than when she's being a biatch). But that's fine as things go.

I guess I'll never make that realization if I haven't gone this far in my life. Okay, given I'm not far enough yet, I'm thankful that I'm still here. Depending on my moods, I'm about as suicidal (or homicidal) as the next My Chemical Romance fan (man, in a way I hate that band ... sounds like a less poetic Billy Corgan).

Anyway, rather than sounding like an inspirational book-writer wannabee, simple takes like this are much preferable to my nature. Anything more than seven paragraphs bore me. Even if it's something I've written myself.

Ho-hum. Getting back to surfing.
Last weekend, I am thinking about my current goals in life.

I've realized (and re-realized) that I am a very capricious creature who would bend/postpone my dreams for an impulsive decision.

Yeah, even though I have dreams of adventure, I also have other dreams. And sometimes I think they're all just illusions I set myself just so I have a direction. But ... aren't all dreams start out as illusions?

Another thing that rips me apart is my sense of contentment setting against my sense for change. I can live with what I have now, but every now and then, I want something big to happen -- and I seek it. Something to excite me.

And nothing excites me more than adventure.

I wanted every mp3s I've listened to to have an accompanying adventure and build a whole music video out of it. Yeah. I dream endlessly of that. I dream of summerlands and crashing waves, of beaches and old books in libraries.

Sometimes ... sometimes I do tie down my dreams like a balloon to a post. Just so I could reach something else.

God knows how many times I did that :(

But as fate would have had it, maybe I still need to wander some more. Perhaps until the end of my life.
It's The Beginning of Another Violent Chapter
After dealing with the storm, here I am sitting at a new place in the office. And might I say, it's a welcome change.

Helps me forget stuff.

Anyway, I'd like to admit I'm a user. In the context of, "I use people". Which makes me more evil than usual. At least I'm no hypocrite :D

But today, I know that there are people who still stick to me. I dunno what they see in me though. They should know that whatever I feel like doing, I just do it. I am rarely sweet to friends, or show my bottomless compassion. In fact, there's this distance I keep to people in the circles I am involved in.

Here's to you people. Cheers.
Time for another song-picture post (the song not necessarily associating with the picture). Electric by Tristan Prettyman.

Take it away.

These tears stain the wood
These tears stain the wood
Like cups and condensation
I am bound to you
I cannot break the situation
He’s every subject
Of every song
Like the wind carries
He moves me along
And the shadows I can’t run from
They won’t let me go
He’s the ending of a story
That I’ll never know

Like the wind carries
He’s electric
Can’t forget it
Yeah he’s electric
Don’t forget it

Sometimes he fills me up
Sometimes it’s such a shock
This is more than I bargained for
More than I would have bought
You still look at me
With well acquainted eyes
As the memories come flooding back
In a field of butterflies

He’s electric
It’s electric
Don’t forget
Yeah it’s electric
I can’t forget it

I know there’s hope in there
But I wanna walk away
He’s says it’s bright in there
Even in lighter shades of grey
And though it looks like rain
I’m not gonna cry
As the seasons are changing
In your heart
So will I
I will fly


Oh yes the seasons are changing
Ohh yes the seasons are changing
I’m burning up
I’m burning up
I’m electric
If It Is To Be, It Is Up To Me: A Rant
I read that in the elevator. Pretty cool that it's all composed of two letter words eh?



I wish I smoke cigs. Truly, this situation I have warrants it. A real puff coming out of my mouth to fit this damnation. Maybe it could calm my anxiety.

But, as things would have had it -- I don't smoke. I don't have much of any vice or bad habits either, so what is a person like me to do? Die of a cardiovascular disease by 50? Mmm, that's not too bad.

Let's just put it this way. We have closing chapters in our lives right? So far the closing chapters, when it happens, leaves me dry and wretched. Ah, is it called misery? I fearlessly say it is.

I once read from a friend about closing chapters. That it is something that has to happen and something you must do because it's just the natural way things go. If you don't, you'll be missing out on the things to come. Kind of like if you let yourself go to a standstill, you'll harm yourself more -- you're stunting your own growth.

Still ... right now ... I feel miserable.

And I am causing it. Writing all of this here somehow calms me. Sort of like a group therapy thing. Unfortunately, it's scaring the shit out of me at the same time for the same reasons.

Here I am. Typing. If the person sitting here right now is the person, say, a couple of years ago, he would've fared worse. The inexperience would just turn him into a cretinous fool.

As luck would have had it, the person now, is the ME now. With tons of battle scars and experience. I'm beginning to wonder what sort of person I'm becoming because of the culmination of my experiences.

I have so become accustomed to the patterns my life is going through that whenever I feel like running away like a whimpering dog, my experienced side brings me back to the fray ... and sometimes back into the fire. Was it a display of courage or foolishness?

What is it Quentin? What are you trying to achieve? What is it that you are failing to do?

I no longer ask questions like why things like this are happening to me. Nope.

Anyway, let me stop right now.

The numbness in my limbs are a tell tale sign of the coming storm. I've seen a lot in my lifetime. And again here it is now. Maybe I should make a sport of it?

I'm tired. What's worse than that is I should feel tired but my mind is not allowing me to.

This too shall pass ...

Shit man, I've been letting so many things pass by me. Will I give it up? Now?


Man. Vengeful.

Like snarling through air with all your fury and anger. But there is nothing there ... just air.

Damn it damn it damn it. What is it with meeeee right now. It's driving me nuts.

A lot of swirling emotions that I couldn't contain. I can never get used to thisssss.
To Which I Dedicate This Sadness
Maybe this is life playing another cruel trick on me. Or maybe it's another lesson that I need to relearn over and over again.

People ... they go y'know? They go somewhere where you don't want them to. But you have to let them. Because it's their own road.

It sucks.

It really sucks when you don't want them to. And you can't go with them.
Today is an Interesting Post
Wonder. Yeah, one of my best personas yet.

Anyway, I've been looking through my junk folder and found something interesting -- a list of my highschool classmates in the Names database. You see, Friendster is good, but the Names database can connect it like no other.

I read the list and immediately thought of the face behind the name. You see, among the crowd categories, I belonged to the Geek group. With a minor in Emo and Weirdo categories. Yeah, we're the ones who play video/console games, talk about scifi and shit, all the things geek people do. Our natural enemies, ofcourse, are the Jocks or the Punks.

So I'm wondering, how are they now?

There sure have been a million changes since then. I've outgrown almost every little thing I was before. Almost :)

Yet I can't help but wonder the stories I could tell to friends I haven't seen for more than a decade ...
I Drink A Potion of You
I was about to write another stupid poem.

Good thing I was able to stop myself in time.
Yay Wifi
Here I am, at my bed, blogging.

That's like a habit I used to have when I was in Cavite with my humble modem connection. Now, rommmates from the other room setup wifi for good ole' me to exploit. I can't say I have much to say at the moment. It's just so rad that I can do this thing again.

Right now I'm chatting with someone who's on the other side of the planet. I sorta would like to feel the chill that's in Chicago. Pictures are great. Wonder what I could do with my camera over there.

In other news, yeah I'm finally using my laptop for a change. Mona is the name of my laptop btw. Geez, now I'm weirding myself out.

Quentin out.
Head Still A Bit Achin'
I wonder what I'm coming down to?

Been feeling woozy the whole week and I'm pretty sure I'm not ingesting anything suspicious except the medicine. I stopped chewing wall paint years ago that's for sure. Biro po.

Anyway a new week is about to start and here I am not feeling well at all. Not good.

Let's wait for another week. If this keeps up I'm going to heavily suspect those medicines. And bite my doctor's head off.
Let Me Tell You About this Life -- My Life
There comes a time when you know you've finally had it.

The part where you finally realize, "Hey, I'm good. I've finally figured it out. Well not totally what I want but now I'm on a place where I can see the road ahead."

Last December 31, the eve of New Years (yeah, the day before birthday) I was stricken by one of my most acute cases of tonsillitis, a chronic illness of mine -- but not this bad! I felt so sick, and in pain. I woke up with my left knee slightly dislocated for being in a disfigured sleeping position for so long.

God, man, that was PAINFUL.

There I was, in the condo, ALONE, when the happiest day for the rest of the world, the happiest day of my life (well it IS my birthday) is about to pass by my fingertips. I couldn't go back home to Cavite because I am too zombified to even stand up.

Yeap. No cakes this year. Mom won't be around the hug and kiss me on my birthday. Dad won't be around giving me that assuring nod that he's proud of me. My brother won't be around gazing at me with sibling idolatry (nooo, I don't bask in these okay?). None of my cousins, aunts, uncles, nephews, nieces, neighbors coming to my home just to greet me happy birthday. I was the most beloved prince of the family. But right now I am in a miserable condition, away from where I should be.

The fireworks outside are already signaling the oncoming event. And even though people were already frolicking and happy outside (and maybe losing a few fingers ... but hey, what's a few fingers for a little revelry?), my head was cracking and I couldn't pull up my SLR camera to take pictures of the fireworks -- even from our balcony.

Many of you would've thought that I'm the most god-awful unlucky human being on earth dontcha? That I should be on my knees cursing the high heavens for not being able to enjoy this most joyful holiday.

But I guess this is where you people are wrong.

We, as humans want a lot of things right? Funny we're born with really nothing at all (okay, maybe with that gross umbilical cord) and walk this world like we want to own everything, anything that a human heart desires -- a house, good friends, a car, Darth Vader's lightsaber, success, even true love.

Yet, for a person like me who had wished for all of that and more, there was one thing that was granted to me instead -- it was peace in my heart. That I don't have to worry about the why's of the world, why I don't have this, why I keep wanting this, why all this is happening, why why why. The prime question scientists ask to the universe yet fail to answer for a person like me. And this feeling of peace was given to me days before the last day of the year.

To those who've known me all my life, I am an extremely complicated person. I don't always say what I mean and mean what I say (that also means that sometimes I do mean what I say, vice versa). Sometimes I treat people like objects or some rat-in-a-maze experiment. I only keep them around me until they have outlived their usefulness. I could be cruel, calculating, and malevolent. One cannot count how many times I want to shoot beggars in the streets and verbally abuse weak minded people. You cannot call me bad -- heck, I was EVIL.

And yet, the human heart is a very strange thing. Because even for all that confession, I am capable of benevolence, generosity, thoughtfulness, and compassion. I wanted to do something for the same beggars I wanted to throw napalms at. I wanted to say sorry to my friends whom I've knowingly neglected through the years. I would give a lot to forward a good cause, and I would give sacrifices to help out a friend, and surrender my soul to a person I love.

Realizing that, one could say, my heart is full of tumult and caprice. Of swirling emotions a mixture of guilt and honor. Like you, I am like every man. And of all things I wished on this earth, I failed to wish the one thing I needed most -- that my heart would know how to be still (okay maybe not corpse still, but you get the idea).

I don't know how I finally got it. It just happened on the eve of New Years.

Oh but what's a post without the topic of love? Ahahaha.

Yes ladies and gentlemen, I am super single. Maybe not for long or maybe forever, who knows. Like I said, that peace in the heart thing is doing me well. Anyway, let me give you little tale.

Once, I believed you need three things to be successful when being with someone. Love, Sex, and Standards. Love is obviously the stuff of the universe, at least for us humans. It maybe synonymous to God, but you get the point. Sex is sex. We're the product of a billion years of sex, so if you don't agree with me then cut off those genitals. Some relationships live off without it, but would you want to miss out on this good thing? Standards is a tricky thing. You don't choose someone just because they're there, but because there is chemistry. You have that someone because in a way, he/she fits you. Maybe that person fits you first time, or it could be you grew into each other. It's the stuff you usually don't compromise or the relationship won't last. Whatever.

I have this order coming on: Standard first, Love second, and well Sex last. The reason is, Standards will help me throughout my life. I won't last well with idiots that's for sure. After I could establish that a person befits me and me, her, then I go to the second part: I let myself fall for her. And I usually fall hard. When things go well for the first two, then it's shagging time! Don't mistake me, I've always believed it's best done with wedding rings on. Also, I've always believed it is the reward of Love. I'm an idealist am I not? (I still sorta envy those nigga rappers and their hordes of bootylicious chics tho -- keeding)

Now, a decade ago, I knew NOTHING. So those three things are juggling in my head.

You see, I was the naive type. I believed in love alone. I mean 90% of songs in the radio are filled with this shit man. And they will teach me all I needed to know. I believed that someday, I'll have the woman of my dreams smiling at me and make me the happiest man on earth. My STANDARD of a woman is smart, pretty, well-educated, and someone I could proudly show my parents. Yes, I'm old-fashioned and a pansy. So there I was, in the dating pool, dated a few women here and there.

Then I met a succubus one day while I was out buying milk and all idealism and conservatism fell overboard. Here was a woman who met only one of my standards (smart). What was that talk about Love, Sex and Standards? Well it so happened that it changed a priority order so it became Sex coming first (get it? coming ahaha). I dunno how it all happened. Was it love disguised as lust? Or was it pheromones? For a time I've been trying to rationalize it all and fit her in to my life. For a time I was trying to tell myself if I love this woman.

But I couldn't. My head would go "Stop it, stop it, stop it, you don't want this!"

In the end, we ended up hurting each other real bad. It was a separation that ripped the veins in my heart. Maybe I did love her. I just wasn't brave enough then. I was afraid what people would think of me. I was afraid what sort of future we'll have. That was it all was -- fear.

So I said to myself, next time I'll have someone that I will show no fear of. It did happen shortly after. I met seraphim.

Now this woman was strong-willed (politically correct term for beatch me thinks) and knows what she wants. Her love was strong and fiery. While I was just beginning to open up and give her what I have little by little, she was going ahead full steam.

Then one day she's complaining to me that I am being unfair. That I'm not living up to her demands. To her it means I didn't love her enough. I read in one of Basky's entries something like, "In true love, there is no such thing as one loving the other more". I felt ... I dunno what I felt. Is there something I should be feeling? This went on for a time and then it hit me. Can I live like this with someone for the rest of my life? I am in no habit of changing a person. And back then there are still things I don't know how to do well, like talking things out. Plus the fact that my tolerance was wearing thin.

Yet it happened. I told her it's over -- right in front of the Manila Cathedral (it's right across the place where she was assigned hence the place). I tried to reform a friendship instead after months have passed. But as all things, there are some stuff that can't be.

Funny how I got the order right this time, and things can still mess up. My Standards arranged, reordered, and rearranged again and again. My heart is still capable of Love even if it's full of stitches. As for the libidinous needs, I need more detergents! Kidding. Anyway, after that, I came across several more women, including cherubim and kittengirl (oh now that's a kinky code name, okay I only made it up). Last year I intended follow one of the women I pursued. Again life is teaching me something, so she ended up as a friend who lets me borrow her credit cards (a good friend indeed, nyahaha).

Again, some people might think I'm an asswipe of a loser. I would calmly go, "I don't mind dude. You can call me gay for all I care."

You see ladies and gentlemen. I've finally learned how to separate my sense of self-worth from the way people perceive me as. I know it sounds trite, and that it sounds straight out of an idiot handbook, and that I'm pretty sure some emo-teen out there figured that out way before I did, but see ... it gave me peace.

I may not have the world as my oyster. My best-laid plans will not always act out like I want it to be. But I learned how to be still, and that no matter how much I scream at the universe, the universe won't scream back. Every moment spent being unhappy is wasted time folks.

So on that day, December 31, I am in the dark corner of my room -- still placidly happy despite my head feeling it's being run over by a freight train. Oh yeah, a kind roommate invited me for a nice pasta dinner and I at least had use for my cellphone credits that night ;} So I wasn't really alone.

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