Interviewer: Why can’t you be alone without Yoko?

John Lennon: But I can be alone without Yoko, but I just have no wish to be. There’s no reason on earth why I should be alone without Yoko. There’s nothing more important than our relationship, nothing. And we dig being together all the time. Both of us could survive apart but what for? I’m not going to sacrifice love, real love for any whore or any friend or any business, because in the end you’re alone at night and neither of us want to be. And you can’t fill a bed with groupies. It doesn’t work. I don’t want to be a swinger. I’ve been through it all and nothing works better than to have someone you love hold you.




Helplessly she fell for him; a notorious Casanova with words that wrap around the body and numb the senses. His words were immortal, his whisper was euphoric. She tried to resist but before she knows it, she has fallen into the eternal abyss.

They say when you’re in doubt, always follow your heart. But what if you know that letting your heart take its lead can lead to unbearable pain?

Will you leave and go on with your mundane life?

Or will you take the risk, live for the moment, and hope it will last forever?




Slowly she began to stand, to walk, to feel the grass beneath her feet and the sun’s warmth above her head. As the breeze touched her skin, she felt safer with the wind.

Finally, she found her place. She found her heart. 

Yet somewhere deep down in her mind, a voice was calling, telling her to wake up. That very familiar tone. Haunting.

Still, she wanders away…


Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?


Oh, the things that we find online…


Hamlet: That is not the question.

Ernest Hemingway: To die. In the rain.

Plato: For the greater good.

Karl Marx: It was a historical inevitability.

Machiavelli: So that its subjects will view it with admiration, as a chicken which has the daring and courage to boldly cross the road, but also with fear, for whom among them has the strength to contend with such a paragon of avian virtue? In such a manner is the princely chicken’s dominion maintained.

Nietzsche: Because if you gaze too long across the Road, the Road gazes also across you.

Albert Einstein: Whether the chicken crossed the road or the road crossed the chicken depends upon your frame of reference.

Aristotle: To actualize its potential.

Darwin: It was the logical next step after coming down from the trees.

Emily Dickinson: Because it could not stop for death.

Epicurus: For fun.

Ralph Waldo Emerson: It didn’t cross the road; it transcended it.

Johann von Goethe: The eternal hen-principle made it do it.

Henry David Thoreau: To live deliberately … and suck all the marrow out of life.

Blake: To see heaven in a wild fowl.

Othello: Jealousy.

Oscar Wilde: Why, indeed? One’s social engagements whilst in town ought never expose one to such barbarous inconvenience – although, perhaps, if one must cross a road, one may do far worse than to cross it as the chicken in question.

Kafka: Hardly the most urgent enquiry to make of a low-grade insurance clerk who woke up that morning as a hen.

Swift: It is, of course, inevitable that such a loathsome, filth-ridden and degraded creature as Man should assume to question the actions of one in all respects his superior.

Macbeth: To have turned back were as tedious as to go o’er.

Mark Twain: The news of its crossing has been greatly exaggerated.

Buddha: If you ask this question, you deny your own chicken-nature.



Fan girl moment with the bisrock icon, har har!

Ladies and gentlemen, here’s a rare treat! The guy-in-shirt-and-rugged-jeans looked decent for an occasion and it’s not his wedding.

The permanent roommate was invited to be one of the judges at the 32nd Cebu Popular Music Festival. Since it’s the highlight of his musical career (as how he puts it), we made every preparation possible. From getting the right fit of slacks, the best pair of shoes, and a stand-out barong from Harley Ruedas to plans of changing his hairstyle but decided to leave it as it is. The rock star image can always justify the unkempt hair.