Tooth Ache.

I have a cavity. Yes, I do. AHhh, it hurts even now... Sorry, you probably didn't need or more like want to know that. But there it is, out in the open, he he.

Ah! I'm looking forward to my trip to the dentist. I know most people hate the dentist, but I would love to sit under his tools and light and gloves and all sorts of nasty smelling medicines and stuff right now.  I just can't wait for him to finish up and finally let me gargle the foul stuff away! Then, I can eat in peace. And SLEEP! Ha, ha, ha, so enough about that *in Rex Navarete's voice and accent: "But enough about me"*

No, I take that back; more about me! I just swam with Sabina and Luis and snapped some pictures with my new camera. (If you don't know which camera I'm talking about check my previous post--I posted a picture). The weather was actually perfect for a swim: the sun was high in the sky, the wind fancied a soft gentle breeze and the birds sang overhead. The fountain was running, splashing as it does all the time and the water, not as clean as I would want it to be, was very refreshing.

Today started late for me, 11.am to be precise. My mom was in the room when I woke and Jonathan was all packed and ready to go. I hurriedly, yet thoroughly, washed my face, brushed my teeth and got dressed. We then, along with Sabina, headed to the airport to send Jon off to Taiwan (Yes Jun, the land of the 'lalas' he he!). He'll be there for about a week. It's a school trip and he'll be doing all sorts of tourist-y things with the rest of his course mates. They'll have to write several reports on the trip, I think. Hee, unfair. Laugh out loud.

After the airport, went to the grocery with my mom, then picked Luis up from school. Finally got hom before four. (ah, my tooth hurts, again.)

So that's today.

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It has been six months since I graduated from High School. Yes, six months.
I'm starting to feel that I must start doing something again (hence the blogging, haha). Yes, I did work the whole month of January for Patric Chan, but I feel... feel like I'm slowly wasting away.

I may be over exaggerating, but at times, that is what I feel. Dad's been in the US since early last month (4th March) and he'll be back next week (1st May). And as I've mentioned, I'm not yet studying (and not working) so I've been home all this while; doing nothing in particular save watch videos, read books and play with Sabina (my younger sister by ten years).

I've been asking God (Yes, I do believe in a higher power, heheh) why I've been just doing nothing. But recently, I've come to realize that me being at home all this while, I guess, was mainly to keep my mom company and to help her out with the daily stresses of home, ha ha. I'm sure there's more to it than that, but I'm content with that reason for now. Aside from waiting for the His perfect time, there's nothing much I can do but be content and make the most of my time.

Well there you go, that's my blog entry for today. I don't know if you people will really read this and take interest in this ramble, haha. But according to your comments, my life ain't, probably, that boring eh?


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Today's highlight:


http://poetzerofilm.com/ --> Having a hard time transforming your ideas to a tangible piece of art? This site is an attempt by several different poets and artists to provide a helpful resource for filmmakers, musicians, photographers, actors, playwrights, and poets. Read more about this site here.

This is it!

I've been contemplating for the longest time whether I should blog or not. To blog or not? To blog or not? TO DO IT?! OR NOTT. DO IT?? OR???

But really, I knew I always wanted to do it. My biggest enemy was my very own laziness and... yeah, really it's my laziness that I must fight!

If you know me, I'm not really lazy-- I'm a pretty hardworking guy. No, really. Ok fine, you got me: I am a lazy person. But hey, here I am blogging about nothing in particular.

I've decided to just use this blog (stuckat12.blogspot.com) instead of making a new one all together. Decided that there's no use in making a new one if I already had one. Decided "Stuck At Twelve" was a good enough blog name already. Decided that there's no use in trying to rack my brain for a new blog name and title. Also, finally decided that I can create a newer/better blog with a smarter name than "Stuck At Twelve" in the future when I figure what that new/better name will be, right? He he he, simple as that.

For those of you wondering, "Why 'Stuck At Twelve'"? There's a simple explanation to that question. The title of my blog is stuck at twelve because I initially just wanted to fill this blog with nonsense. And clearly, if you browse carefully, it is full of nonsense. I was thinking in the line of 'Peter Pan' and 'not growing up' if you haven't gotten the gist of it yet.

Although I am not encouraging the idea of not growing up and being "stuck at twelve", instead I am encouraging you to keep that inner child! Don't fully grow out of it. Don't fully think straight. Don't fully be bound by limitations and society. Do not fully be serious. Most importantly, DO NOT FORGET HOW TO DREAM!!

So that's basically why I chose the name "Stuck At Twelve"-- I don't want to be fully grown-up!

And you too, keep imagining. Don't fully grow up and forget what it's like to dream... aight?

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Before I go, you should check out tumblr.com. If you haven't yet and have no idea what it is, Tumblr basically allows you to share ANYTHING. Be it music, quotes, videos, links, and of course, pictures. You can share whatever you find in the internet (yours or not) or you could share some of your own stuff.

In tumblr.com/about, it says:

Tumblr lets you effortlessly share anything. Post text, photos, quotes, links, music, and videos, from your browser, phone, desktop, email, or wherever you happen to be. You can customize everything, from colors, to your theme's HTML.

You can "follow" other users and browse through what they think is cool. Check mine out here josetonio.tumblr.com .

A few users you should undoubtedly check out are:

lookbookdotnu.tumblr.com --> if you're a fassionista or wannabe fassionista, male or female, follow this blog! It's a collection of the raddest looks from lookbook.nu users.

hollywoodinblackandwhite.tumblr.com --> Absolutely love Hollywood? This blog is dedicated to the beauty and glamour of our idols and crushes! BUT in black and white.


threeneilsaday.tumblr.com --> Expand your imagination! Check out the art and many works of Neil Gaiman. This collection includes quotes from Gaiman's books and comics as well as independent individuals' interpretations his work through various means.

There ARE HUNDREDS of sites you could 'follow'. Just get started by signing up here. Then, visit a site, mine for example, then click on the "Follow" button on the top-right corner of the page. Once you are following the site, their posts will appear on your dashboard! See, that was easy wasn't it?

Alright, I guess that's it for now. On a side note though, I got myself a waterproof film camera. Yellow.

Can not wait to actually start using it underwater! I bought it from the Singaporean brand "4skin" or "FourSkin" in Gurney, 3rd floor new wing (near Switch). A terrible name if you ask me, cool stuff nonetheless.

Teach Me To Fly.

"Even in my dreams, it's hard to fly.

"I can barely keep my feet off the ground. My freedom seems limited. What was all that fighting for if I can't even sing my heart out-- fly? I feel as though my fears are catching up with me. In fact, they are; I am haunted by what may come." he confessed.

"In my dream," he continued after refilling his silver cup with fresh wine, "A swift runner runs swiftly across the horizon. He climbs the highest peak of the Snowy Mountains just south of Sought After Village without breaking but a single drop of sweat; he doesn't even pant for air."

"Once towering above the earth, he takes a breath, shuts his eyes closed and thinks of times long gone and hopes that are far away. Then, he jumps into the dark chasm whence he came, head first. The cool night blows his dead-black hair and causes his dark cloak to flutter frantically.

"For a moment his worries are left behind, but the bottom draws nearer--death approaches and fear seeps itself back in as one uninvited. He tries to fly; but instead, he continues falling.

"A wet tear escapes his lids and travels across his face and touches his right ear before disappearing into the cold night. And just before impact, the well-built man shuts his eyes, breathes in and tucks his knees in, curling himself up like a ball and spins with prowess and lands modestly on both feet on the dry ground beneath.

"A few autumn leaves are blown away by the soft, graceful impact and not a single injury is inflicted. Disappointment is what he feels. Then, he looks up at me with a sad yet blank expression across his face. He looks at me with gray-colored eyes and I stare back.

"What does it mean, my darling?" he asked. "He that stands alone at the foot of the mount is I; I am he who cannot fly."

Silence filled the room, and the man couldn't help but sob. He looked at his hands then rested his head on her lap. Then he added: "It is when I see his face that I awake; sweat across my face and a cry in my soul."

Oliviana, his one and only, looked at him with her ever-reassuring and loving look. That's why I married her, he recalls, she always looks passed my flaws; She's the perfect listener and partner.

And as the brave warrior waited for her reply, he looked down and wondered what she would say and she looked out the window into the sparkling stars and chose her words carefully.

Far Away

I heard a story once, a truly splendid tale it was,
Of lost dreams and forgotten memories, over-grown dwarfs and mischief nymphs.

This legend, heard from the whisper of an angel, told of a castle nestled way up in the sky.
A citadel with four looming towers disappeared like the mist.

It's keeper was a peculiar little fellow dressed in purple. A single violet robe, orange sandals and a tall wizard's hat was all this petite young faun modeled.

When darkness reigned, stowed away behind the colossal diamond doors, a princess would remain...

MARIANNE LANE Part 1 (Editing)

By Jose Antonio Henson
I decided to change it a bit.
ENJOY!

MARIANNE LANE –

PART ONE

The old rooster woke us up with its loud crowing. It crowed and crowed until the entire house was wide-awake. Soon, the manor down in Beach Street was noisy with the screams and laughter of the kids, young and younger, which were running up and down the hallways and staircases of the old mansion.
Today was no ordinary day. Today, all the young ladies of the entire province that were of age to be wed, and the young men of stature, were to be sent to Delcel where they would find a better future.
As the ladies packed the little belongings that they had had, they dreamed of the man they were to meet, and spend the rest of their lives with. The men did almost just that, but as some dreamed of the lady they would call their own, the other’s dreamed of adventures. About twenty were chosen this year; twenty of the most beautiful and smartest of the small town of Klein in the province of Zemimír. And five of them: from Lady Solange’s household.
I dreaded this day for years, it not only meant that some would leave, or that I’d be reminded that I’d never get picked, but it meant that Miss Lane, Miss Marianne Lane, was leaving too. I’ll never see her again and she’ll never know how I felt about her.

“Hurry up, Felipe! He’ll be here any minute now!” Screamed a boy from the hallway. “I need to use the loo! And if he comes while I’m still inside, then I may never see my sister again!”
“Not to worry, Justus. I’ll make sure that won’t happen. You’ll still see Mari.”
“Are you sure? But… but what if he does come while I’m inside, Astinos?”
“He won’t, I promise.” I said as I looked at him straight in the eyes then turned and banged the door in front of us and demanded that Felipe open the door at once.
“If it would help, I’ll stand right here and look out the window. If I see anything come through the gate, I’ll knock on the door, scream at the top of my lungs, or even break this plank of wood down if I had to in order that you see your sister again.”
“Really?” Said the not-so-little boy, but the youngest in town as he opened the door and scolded Felipe for taking so long.
“Yup.” I answered.
“Ok, thanks.” He finally said as he walked in and closed the door behind him.

It was a beautiful morning in Klein. The sun was out and all the birds were singing out their jovial and mysterious songs. ‘Why is it such a beautiful morning?’ I thought. ‘How could the sun dare to shine, and the flowers bloom? What gave these birds the license to open-up and unleash such a captivating note?’
As I waited by the toilet door, I tried not to listen to the alluring tunes the birds were letting out. I was depressed. I didn’t want to feel joy. I didn’t want to know what it felt like to be happy. Mari was leaving and I didn’t have the guts to tell her how I felt!
Despite all my efforts to be negative of the whole situation, the aria finally got through the imaginary walls I had built in my head. I started to hear the melody of the bird then I began to wonder what it was singing about. It was probably singing about its great adventures in the vast kingdom above the earth in the high blue sky, or about its humble beginnings or even about its long, ancient yet peaceful life. I then found myself wishing that I could understand its complex compositions and know how he, or even she, got the chirpy yet dark melody together. ‘If only I could understand.’ I said to myself.

Dong. Dong. Dong…
The grandfather clock struck twelve.
“Justus!! It’s noon!” I screamed and in no time he was running right behind me as we headed out to the courtyard where Master Galbraith was expected to be.
When we got out of the house. Everyone was already there waiting for his arrival. Nearly the whole town was there to send the chosen off.
Breathing heavily, I tried to calm myself and I began to search the crowd for Mari.
I spotted her in the other side by the great fountain, furthest one from the gate. I made my way towards her and when I was almost halfway there, we started to hear a clatter of hooves. They’re here!

The rattling sound of carriages and heavy breathing of the fine beasts got closer and closer. Every drawing moment seemed to be unusually prolonged and a piercing silence began to teem the air. Not a single soul dared to utter even but a word. All were in suspense; the noble Master Galbraith has come again.

Seconds felt like hours in Madam Solange’s front courtyard. Practically everyone from the humble province of Klein was there. All knew that if they weren’t there when the messenger arrived, if they were one of the chosen ones, they’d get left behind and if they were just a citizen, they’d never see the one’s leaving ever again.

With a crackle and a sputter, we watched the carriages come into view across the bend. To my relief, and their dismay, it wasn’t Master Galbraith. The blue sumptuous carriages and relevantly small entourage made it clear: it was the elves from just over the mountains in the North. They too had several chosen ones, and they had come almost too late.
“I still have time!” I told myself. “I still have time to tell her.”
And with no time to waste, I made it past the second half of the courtyard to the great fountain, fifth and furthest from the gate. Just a few meters to the left, there, Mari was standing. Next to a large suitcase, she quickly gave me a big hug.

“Astinos! There you are!”
“Mari, yes.”
“I thought I would never see you again. Where were you? I’ve been looking for you all morning.”
“I… I…” I started to eat my words once again, it happens when I have something to say but just don’t have the guts to spit it out. And Mari, of all people, knew this.

“What is it, Astinos?”
“I, I have to tell you something.”

I took her aside. To a place where no one can overhear us and still in view (we didn’t want to miss the arrival of Master Galbraith), I told her how I felt. It took me a few tries but in the end I was able to get the message through. After I had finished, I waited for her reply. A moment of silence was inevitable.

“So, are you going to say anything?” I asked.

“Why? Why, Astinos? Tell me why!” Marianne finally answered.

“Why? I… I thought that…”

“I mean, why are you just telling me this now? I’ve been waiting for you to say something since… since forever! I’ve always loved you. But you’re… you never say anything! So… And you come and tell me now! Now! When I’m all packed and ready to go the Delcel. Astinos, why?!”

“Really? I… I don’t know. I guess I was just too scared to say anything. I didn’t know what you would say, I thought you’d hate me.”

“Me, hate you? That’s nonsense! If only I had a choice, I’d stay Astinos, it’s what I want more than anything in the world, to be with you.”

“Then, then stay with me, Mari! The two of us, let’s go away, you and me, away from Madame Solange’s protection, out of Klein, off to the other side of the vast water gap. I’ll protect you, Marianne. We’ll start a family; grow old together!”

“Oh, how pleasant that would be.” She answered. But her smile soon faded away.
“Bu, but, but I can’t.” she said. “And you know that! Life is not all rainbows and butterflies, you know. I promised my mother before she died that I would go away with Master Galbraith; find myself a husband from the other side. So you see, I really must go.”

“No, no, you can’t do this. You can’t leave. You can’t just… leave!”

Just then, he had finally arrived. It felt like a fairy tale to me: a really, really bad fairy tale. The kind of tale where everyone dies and the evil witch turns into a queen. The type of tale where birds forget how to fly and bats steal their songs.
The world couldn’t get any meaner… but it just did. If I was really going to do something, now was the time. “I could just tie her down for a few minutes and she’d surely get left behind,” I thought. “But she’d hate me if I did that!”

“I’m sorry, my dear Astinos, but I have to go now. Where’s my brother, I have to say good-bye.”

“Marianne, no. Please, I beg you, just stay!”

“Don’t make this harder than it already is; I’ve got to go!
Master Galbraith is here; the others are heading off now.” She said as she started walking away. “Goodbye, Astinos. I… I love you. I always have… I always will.”

She then ran over to the others, kissed her little brother good-bye. And with a tear in her eyes, she waved goodbye and I watched her disappear into the horizon.

I’ll always remember today; the day I watched Marianne leave; the day I let her slip away. Now she’s gone, gone forever.

Is there a right way in doing this?

I always wondered how people could just write about how they felt, allowing all to read. It's like writing a journal, but opening it up and showing the general public what your deepest secrets were. Wasn't a journal suppose to be personal? Something that you, and only you (and a few of your "closest" friends in grade school, or even high school), would read...

Well, here I am: blogging!

I guess this isn't really gonna be my "public journal". I have a hard time writing really long and personal stuff... but we'll see how this goes, ha ha.

Well for starters, I love fantasy stuff. I try to write my own, but, he he, you be the judge in that.

Like most other fantasy readers, I love the thought of super-humanity. The idea of being, not normal. I like adventure, deep meanings in details, and well-put plots. I like it when you look at the small picture and it's already very interesting, and you get a feeling of just wanting to stay there. But then when you zoom out to see the even bigger picture, there's more to it and you can't just stay in that small detail anymore. You thought that it was enough, but now there's even more to it than you ever dreamed of. I love good authors who can put so many little details that contribute to the main plot. A plot that has so much meaning into it.

I also love stories where the characters are so human, so ordinary and so stereotypical yet there's something about them that would make them... un-human. Usually they were born with that "something special" and it only manifested now. Or more times than not, it was bestowed on them by someone or something greater than the normal individual one would find shopping in the mall (or walking in the street, but I'm trying to be "up-to-date", you see)


I, like most people, love it when there are also those that are just so inhuman, so out-of-this-world, and they are people we can just never be. These are our typical superheroes. Superman, for example or Legolas the elf.


The problem with reading too much of this though, I end up spending a great deal of my time day-dreaming and wishing that I had that special something in me too. Dreaming that someone would knock on the front door randomly and say that they needed me for a dangerous mission that only I could do, or that I wasn't really a human, but an elf from an alternate world. Or even, that I would find out and discover that I had super powers and would use it to defeat some evil vilan. 

I also catch myself wishing that I was born in another time; a time where knights and dragons had duals. A time where kings ruled and princesses were as beautiful as ever. A time when evil step mothers dictated, and swords were the means of fighting. (This is why my blog is called "Stuck at Twelve", ha ha)

Why is this so, though? Why do we all (or maybe just me) dream of such things... things that are not normal. Hoping and wishing with all our birthday candles, coins, and shooting stars that there were something more.

I've come to the conclusion that it's what we're made of that's to be blamed... our cells, DNA, and our souls.

You didn't think that you were just an accident of evolution did you? What a useless life you would have if that were so. What's the use of defeating evil and dreaming, and accomplishing, and creating and destroying if that were the case?

It's what and who we are that gives us the craving to want more. The feeling of wanting to be great.

But who am I to be great?

Who are you to be great?

Photo 1: Water World By: ChOpaK
Photo 2: Your Savior By: Hash
Written by: Jose A Henson

The Lit Path

Entangling vines of lies must be cut

Weeds of despair and worry rid of

If there were only a light so hot and bright

One that would dissipate all deception

Even the heat of that of a sun spot

Consumed, my loneliness will be

Is there not one who would show the way?

Is there not a path that is lit with happiness?

There is a road that leads to paradise

A sun-lit lane filled with excitement and joy

It is not the destination that paves the way

But the journey's thrills that motivate the soul

Though the destination may be all that we dream of

It is the keeper that fills all that search

Yes, the path is dangerous

But don't we all crave that high?

Why do we run from the way that we know is right?

Here, the vines are cut

Here, the weeds are rid of

If only you search, then you will find.

Photography: Rode es

by: Jon Henson (tanned)

Written by: Jose A Henson

How I wish I could see!

Freedom of speech you were given

Yet rigid your tongue remained

Of flying above mountains you dream

Yet you are still as you are

To soar with eagles is your hearts desire

But your soul is forever bound by fear

Your surroundings a colourful meadow,

filled to its brim with captivating scents

But all that you detect is pain and grief

Even if an effort was made to lift your head,

Shame weighed it back down again

You were given the deepest blue to dive into

But the inside of a box has captured your comfort

It's wet suffocating presence kept you in

Is there nothing that can unbound your chains?

Is there no one who can peel off the scales of sadness?

Who will bring joy?

Who will bring love?

Who will show the path that must be followed?

Photography: I'm Waiting For You

By: Mary A.k.a. A Sheep's Mind

Written by: José Antonio Henson