ramichael's Xanga

Saturday, October 21, 2006

Sat, 21 Oct 2006 09:43:40 GMT

i wonder what is happening right now. the utmost conflict in confusion rests in the nest that harbors itself through my minds majestic canals of thought. i am in a physical riddle of where my home, geographically lays, at least on the local spect.

with moving so much in the past year-involuntarily, i am in such displacement of what is happening around me. i live in the presence of my home's empire. i stick to familia because it's what feels right. so much has changed, after moving out of Clark into Corning. It's different, it causes some sort of excitement, i suppose.

okay fuck that. i'm sleep deprived for today.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

Sat, 09 Sep 2006 07:08:29 GMT

so i'm back. back into the patience of jotting down much release, within a place that may nuture them. my thoughts. so confused about everything, waking up and then sleeping side by side with the anxiety. who knew that being stressed out would feel like this. yes, it's all relative, but c'mon now. i decided to get step by step closer to the fuel that will dance with the fire that waits in my soul. writing is my passion, so why don't i drink it. like the potted planet that lays only as decor under the smoltering heat. nourish commands growth. my photosynthesis processes, just as such. with the positive energy of success and love, may i find my key to unlock the doors. someone changed the locks.

growing up really has it's cliche ups and downs. it really does. i accept. developmental chords torpido up and down creating cacaphonic noise. i find the beats to take me home. it's hard be the oldest. after my papa passed, life has really 560 degreed it; yah man. i still am in shock with randy. i still don't get so much of what life has tossed to me. this is it; the time in which i shall shed my skin once more to reveal a maturity that only time's experiences may present. i just wish that i was a bit further in the game. but it's cool. i'm going to do my best, realistic best (fucken ganj), to promote these dreams into tangible sources. i'm going to shine again, for my family. being so caught up in the mix of everything has gotten me stimulated in the sense of trying to conquer all such, but at the same time, envelop a sense of acceptance-i am growing older. it's such a trying world that we exist in.

moving to manhattan beach. beverly hills, i will miss you. but you have lost your purpose and tarnished a glamour that only appears with intolerant snacks that the popos would devour. i miss you randy so much. i still am so confused with what has happen. i promise to you, i will watch chris, tim, and faith. i promise cousin.

i'm excited though. i can't wait to get into my real estate, focus a bit and just relax and take it easy. i am going to be there. this is my next challenge. see you later melrose, it's been promising, and my future exposes a different path marked, secured with momentum.

i need to really figure things and conceptualize all the mishaps and fortunes. slowly for surely, my time will arise, with nothing but a proud heart, bright cheesen, and the answers for my quest. i'm ready.

peace and love-ramichael

Monday, May 29, 2006

Mon, 29 May 2006 07:21:16 GMT

why can't i can?

Saturday, May 06, 2006

Sat, 06 May 2006 08:44:27 GMT

so admist all this 'anxiety' i like to claim, i wonder if it is myth, all lie. i wonder. each day i wake up thinking about what am i doing with myself and the life that i honor to neglect at times. this career minded train of greyhound thoughts plays over and over. i dont know what i am to become of in the working field. i want that perfect job. that one with the "casual fridays" everyday. the co workers that indefinitely love what they are doing. the place to do everything i ever wanted to; and of course getting paid for it. i can't stop thinking about it as i've become victim to the late night online bug that has me searching jobs every second it becomes available. i've gone mad. it's hard when you're out of the institution. it really is.

life's been tricky with my papa gone. i dont go a day thinking about him. i miss him so much. i still numb in the summer sun.

i'm starting a new book. Life of Pi. it looks fresh. i've been in a diehard want, to read a new book.

fuck, i can't gather any thoughts. they trickle too fast these days. i think i'm getting old, or just mentally slow.

anyways, here's to the next hopeful entry.

peace.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Tue, 04 Apr 2006 07:35:06 GMT

he is now 51. it was just my papa's fifty first birthday. and i woke up at 5 in the afternoon. i dont know why i did. it's interesting, the eerie like events that have happened. some sort of channelling into depths not expected. the smell of sampaguitas that evening with robyn was trippy. it passed and i was amused, after robyn telling me that it may mean a spirit has just passed by us.

lately i've been interested in the unknown- yah, the non living. it's so taboo, but it's essential. we must think of these things, naturally, to admire the idea of death and what you're going to do prior to it's arrival and your departure from this place. i dont go a day not thinking of my papa, i must think more than i even realize. it's so hard to know he's not here. i wish and dream so hard for the day to hear his voice, to see his talent, to be his son. fatherless.

me chris and tim went to Andre's for dinner. it was perfect, i wanted to make spagetti but got lazy. tim suggested, so we went. i ate there last with my papa, after getting our passports for the philippines. i miss him. it was a cool evening, for the birthday. we then headed to tasha's and got stoned.

anyways, i can't seem to continue a clear thought on here. my high is too crazy.

peace- ramichael

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Sun, 18 Dec 2005 07:55:22 GMT

I heard there are phases to this moment we're in. phases that allow us to comprehend this experience of losing someone we loved so much, either then and or now, if not at all, we still mourn. And I question so much about why I feel the way I feel. Why is my papa gone? The world weeps with the departure of a genuine legend, a title only given to the selected few that really made an impact to the community, to the people, to the family. My papa went past that. a father, husband, son, brother, uncle, nephew, cousin, and friend. a golfer and a business owner. a Filipino in America. an artist and musician. above all, a legend is a legend, when they're not afraid to dream.

I remember growing up so fast in the arms of my papa. he brought the streets in the home, and developed a sense of mature understanding i could never learn on my own. when i think of my papa, one phrase always sticks out the most. "life isn't just about the book smarts, but the street smarts just as important." no matter how much we learn, if we aren't able to apply what we learn out in an unknown world, how will we be able to effectively use that knowledge to its utmost capacity, and he was right. as a rebelous teenager, i never understood what my papa was lecturing me about. growing up in so many debates, he actually defined the one pivotal argument, i now map my life on-life is a full circle.

imagine the sacrifices your parents and their parents are making for you. they leave their homeland, to come to a place so foreign to pay for debts that in fact their country owes. to pay the almost debt of their actions of having family and going to any extreme of never having that be a issue. to be removed. and now, with the kamalayan, we must do and there's no way around it. we are aware thus now producing such consciousness, that we must work in order to survive, ultimately at the expense of our own pride and comfort. my papa sacrificed a lot to be in this world and to honestly be accepted. He always provided me, my brothers, sister, and cousins with the most that he was able to give, if not in monetary and material things, then with the wisdom he cuddled in his soul. if he had the chance, he always said he'd give me the world. although he never felt he did, I've always felt well traveled. he brought people together with clever never ending perverted and witty yet childish jokes, or with the intensity of his anger when something rubbed him the wrong way. he sacrificed himself to harbor all senses of human emotions and to show me and my family we are capable of such living, and it's okay. and in the end, it was the high prescribed dosages of family my papa loved, that kept the olympic dimmed torches, lit and the meter never reading, empty.

my papa did a lot for the ones he genuinely loved, especially for the kids-the future. He taught me ideals beyond the drunken stupor many thought he was all about. You were wrong. My Papa was so passionately strong, and in fact so strong that he kept things to himself so he wouldn't burden others with his problems. Despite the ways he may have showed it and how we may have not agreed, it was his way and no one really understood, because he was that unique, one of a kind. and now as i stand before you speaking the words to give forth light on my papa, you physically witness one of many things he has taught me, to come together and to stay together as family and to have pride and never be weak, to have utmost respect for those who do good for you, and to screw the ones that are fake. my papa would talk to anyone and everyone just to exchange life stories. he never inflicted pain on others intentionally that many others do, he always kept to the phrase of do onto others as you'd do to yourself. he was a genuine man that got lost behind the intoxicated field of dreams. but i was found in solitude with his beer, guitar, Pink Floyd, always, as i sat outside his bedroom door. Sometimes i would sit in the hallway, when the moon is the only light we see, simply listening to him drunk, yet playing so graceful on his guitar, and it always made me smile. I am so honored to say my papa was the legendary Ramie Monsod and that he was way beyond a good hearted man, if you really paid attention. because i know i did, every second along the way. How can you not remember someone like him. i miss you so much papa, i will be strong for you as you were always for me, save me a seat, for good bye, until we say hello...................

peace-ramichael

Monday, December 05, 2005

Mon, 05 Dec 2005 07:59:35 GMT

i did it. i got myself a position at Planet Funk in the Melrose location. amongst all the bad apples lately, mine for once, that quickest second, didn't have a worm. what a feeling this whole experience has been. it's really uplifting to get something that you want so bad, no matter how miniscule the thing is to others, how grand it is for you. i have something, and something wants that.

give me 2-3 years. that's what it is. and my name will be nothing more than 9 letters so "difficult" to pernounce. i have awaken from this motivational slumber. i got to do it all over again, and this time i know, once i hit my first climax, dont go down after, but to rise even more. the teachings of living are dependent on the experiences and not of the mere physical titles-higher education of self. high on the utmost form of heaven-ry. high causing the glands in your palm's pores to secrete liquid known as sweat high. intense. i'm here, in the city of angels. and something is watching over me.

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Sat, 03 Dec 2005 12:52:58 GMT

i use to hide when i heard my mom's car parking outside the house-she just came back from the grocery store. i pretended to be sleeping, as i heard her carrying in all the bags and its almost jingle bell marilyn manson cacaphony of plastic up the porch stairs. i never had chores growing up, i was so use to my parents and such taking up after me-til this day. i'm spoiled rotten in that department. the sales i did, was the actual rather purchasing of doses of brat hood. i am used to it, a bad habit, yet inherently introduced. a little while ago, i took the sunday monday morning trash. i went to the back, unlocked the backyard gate, and pulled the trash can on the curb. when i looked down the and up the alley way, it felt like hollywood during christmas, almost Nepal like lights in the winter. trash was all lined up, ready for battle, and our house was the last to attend hut. my papa came out, helped me with the placing of plastic garbage cans. it felt cool. i took the trash out, with my pops. it was real weird, i guess cause of the feeling i got. it was such this renassaince emotioned feeling.

my second interview is today. 2 pm. man, i hope i get this. i really need to get in the industry, it's where i want to go with my life. it's weird to think now, reality peek a boos. i need to get on with myself, to make sure i stay strong myself and prove to the world of me, and the world of we that i will be something in life. i mean, i am already. grateful. but i want to show that i am made of the very ingridents you thought i didn't possess. i'm going to be a success, and til the arrival of this night's flight, stay posted.

being home in los angeles is great. i've been reminded of so many avenues i'm able to explore here. and of the places only a local may feel welcomed. the exclusivity of this public property paradox reminds me, i'm home. being in such short distance from my family, makes me genuinely happy. i haven't been happy with something in awhile, and it hit, like cupids chore, i'm in love. it's such a puzzling problem yet solution that is family.

amazing to think, i've self imposed a chore that has me the first one down that alley way with parade like garbage cans setting out the monsod house monday trash. the chore i've never felt existed, but now in consciousness, aware, the chore of being a son. yet the ache and fatigued like performance, was never a pain to me. i accepted it, and as each day goes on, i'm am always your son with strength.

well, i hope i get this gig.

mona lisas and mad hatters. thank you for taking the chore to be such a concrete webbed support to this weathered head boy. you're the other sister i never had.

peace-ramichael

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Thu, 01 Dec 2005 13:15:55 GMT

Formed London, 1968.

As gigantic a presence as their name would suggest, Led Zeppelin transcended the hard rock/heavy metal label slapped on them by some. Indeed, they epitomized the synthesis of multiple influences that characterized the best of 70s rock, while producing music that was stamped with their own dynamic identity.

The story really began in the summer of 1968, when guitarist Jimmy Page was left as the only person interested in preserving The Yardbirds, the influential London-based R&B band that had also showcased the talents of Eric Clapton and Jeff Beck. He soon recruited experienced keyboards player John Paul Jones from the London sessions circuit and then went in search of a singer. His first choice, Terry Reid, had other commitments and put him on to young Midlands vocalist Robert Plant, who had played with a number of local pub outfits, including The Band Of Joy, whose drummer was John Bonham. Plant, at the time treading water with Hobbstweedle, jumped at the chance, and eventually persuaded Bonham to join up, too.

The other key figure in the group's formation was manager Peter Grant, a larger-than-life jack of all trades who was often referred to as the fifth member, such was his influence. After some Scandinavian and British dates in August/September 1968 as The New Yardbirds, the Zep monicker was adopted, apparently after a quip by Keith Moon that they were 'so heavy they should go down like a lead zeppelin', although Who bassist John Entwistle has claimed the idea was his. Soon the 'a' was dropped to avoid confusion over pronunciation.

The early Zeppelin sound was heavily blues-based but with more emphasis on chunky riffs, plus a classical touch in Jones' keyboard work and even a slight West Coast influence in some of Plant's high-pitched vocals - his shrieks sometimes sounded uncannily like Janis Joplin. The eponymous first album, reportedly recorded in just thirty hours, was one of the most stunning debuts of all time. It incorporated raunchy numbers with catchy riffs, like "Good Times Bad Times" and their live magnum opus "Dazed And Confused", the breakneck speed of "Communication Breakdown", a couple of heavy blues standards, and signs of the diversity to come in the acoustic instrumental "Black Mountain Side" and the outstanding "Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You". Page had played Joan Baez' version of this traditional folk song to Plant during one of their first meetings, and here they transformed into a hypnotic shuffle, a delicious confluence of acoustic and electric elements.

With a brilliant debut tucked under their belts and critical acclaim on the British underground circuit, the dynamic Grant formulated his plan for world domination, the key to which clearly lay in conquering the US market. He'd already made an exploratory visit to New York and set up a lucrative five-year deal with Atlantic, which gave full control to him and the band, ensuring that nobody would interfere with Page's production. Now he seized the main chance and got the band on an American tour supporting Vanilla Fudge, when the Jeff Beck Group pulled out at the last minute. They debuted in Denver on December 26, 1968, and then went round blowing everybody off stage, from Country Joe And The Fish to Iron Butterfly.

Their incendiary stage show lasted up to four hours, kept fizzing by the chemistry that had developed between the four and filled out with lengthy solos, a hallmark of the epoch. Bonham's mammoth effort during "Moby Dick" allowed those not into half an hour of heavy-duty percussion to take a breather, but few went missing for Page's virtuoso guitar showpiece, violin bow and all, during "Dazed And Confused".

Zep returned to England for more small-venue dates early in 1969 but their stateside reputation ensured they were headliners when they re-crossed the Atlantic in the spring. Although the critics were more unanimous in their praise in the UK, the big audiences were on the other side of the pond, and Grant concentrated their efforts there. They toured almost incessantly for two and a half years, filling ever bigger venues, while Grant worked to cultivate an 'underground' image, releasing hardly any singles and avoiding big publicity campaigns. Led Zeppelin II was put together while the band were on the road in 1969 and recorded with the help of engineer Eddie Kramer at several different studios. It was this album that glued the 'metal' tag to Led Zep, especially in the minds of those who only heard the driving riff of "Whole Lotta Love", an edited version of which reached the US Top 5. The track was not released as a single in the UK, where no official Zeppelin ever came out, but a softer version by CCS was for years used as the signature tune to the BBC's Top Of The Pops show. 1970'sLed Zeppelin III, prepared by Page and Plant at a cottage retreat in Snowdonia, then rehearsed at a rundown mansion in Hampshire, showed more diversity than ever before. The first side was very electrified, opening with the thundering "Immigrant Song", a fine display of Plant's eerie Valhallic wail, but on the other side the tone was much more melodic and acoustic, featuring their arrangement of the traditional folk song "Gallows Pole", Plant at his mellowest on "That's The Way" and Page's finest love song, "Tangerine". The album was panned by critics who had come to expect something more rowdy.

Zeppelin's reputation as a great live act continued to grow, as 'progressive' British rock groups like Zep and Jethro Tull started to fill huge arenas in the US. They also developed the 'bad boys on the road' image by trashing hotel rooms and so on, an image that accrued a nastier edge due to Page'sfascination with the occult, particularly Aleister Crowley, whose Scottish mansion he bought in 1970. Their gigs during this period sometimes degenerated into riots, thanks to fans, stoked by the Princes-of-Darkness image and various substances.

The next release was not until late 1971, with the album known to all as Led Zeppelin IV, though no title nor any kind of name appeared on the cover - just four runic symbols. The band wanted the music to speak for itself, and that it did with "Stairway To Heaven". No 70's party was complete without the air guitars coming out to this one, and it is still the album track most frequently requested on radio. Not that it was a one-track album. The opener, "Black Dog", contained one of Page's most inventive riffs, "Misty Mountain Hop" paid joyful homage to hippie days and "The Battle Of Evermore", complete with mandolins and Sandy Denny's angelic vocal harmonies, emphasized the band's penchant for mystical folk-rock. Atlantic's fears about the lack of name proved unfounded as it became a mega-seller, but the subsequent British tour, including two dates at Wembley Empire Pool that sold out overnight, proved to be the last on home ground for nearly four years.

During the early 70's Zep eased up a little on the intensity of touring but increased its scope, graduating to world tours incompassing the growing Japanese market. "Houses Of The Holy" did not appear until spring 1973 and broke with tradition in actually having a title. Although it contained several great tracks in the majestic string-driven "The Rain Song", lovely semi-acoustic "Over The Hills And Far Away" and the Jones-dominated "No Quarter", the attempt at broadening the horizons fell flat with the ill-advised reggae piece "D'yer Maker" and the downright abysmal try at funk on "The Crunge", their worst ever moment.

The group's own Swansong label was officially launched in May 1974, a year of relative calm, with no gigs, some time in the studio, and opportunities for band members to rest, pop up for the odd guest appearance or get involved in other projects. One interesting sideline was that Zep helped finance the film Monty Python And The Holy Grail.

When the group finally took to the road again at the start of 1975, they were greeted as returning prodigals by old and new fans alike - hundreds queued all night to get tickets for the May gigs at London's Earl's Court. It's a shame these performances were not recorded on film because what emerged the following year on the rockumentary "The Song Remains The Same" was some lacklustre footage from end-of-tour gigs in 1973, plus some self-congratulatory behind-the-scenes clips and rather silly fantasy sequences.

The album that had preceded the film soundtrack in the spring of 1975 was a return to form: entitled Physical Graffiti, it was the band's only studio double album and their last great piece of work. Although the tracks are by no means all classics, between the staccato riff of "Custard Pie" and the closing bars of "Sick Again", the album contained some stunning material, like the epic version of the trad blues "In My Time Of Dying", the whimsy of "The Rover" and party fave "Trampled Underfoot", with its semi-funk beat. Indeed, much recent dance music owes more than a little to this display of Bonzo Bonham's drumming. The most enduring piece, however, was "Kashmir", the song that lit a thousand joss sticks.

From there on, although there was some worthy stuff on the last two proper albums, Presence (1976) and In Through The Out Door (1979), things went downhill. In the wake of the punk explosion Led Zeppelin were numbered among the dinosaurs that the new generation had come to blow away - though, interestingly, this negative attitude did not work in reverse, as both Page and Plant made positive noises about what the young bands were doing. To make matters worse, Plant had a serious car accident on the Greek island of Rhodes in August 1975, which laid him up for the best part of two years, and this was followed by the sudden death of his young son Karac in July 1977, just after the first US comeback tour. This drove him into retirement for a further year and rumours circulated that the group had split. In fact they made a dramatic return in 1979 with an appearance at the Knebworth Festival in England. Although critical acclaim was muted, they had proved they could still pull in the crowds. In Through The Out Door topped the US album charts for a record seven weeks, and it seemed they had come through their sticky patch.

In 1980 they toured extensively again in Europe, and more activity was lined up, when John Bonham was found dead after a binge at Page's house on September 25. The decision to call it a day was immediate, but the announcement didn't come until December. As a postscript, Coda, a collection of previously recorded material, came out in 1981 to fulfil contractual obligations, but it was only relevant to die-hard fans. Later in the decade Plantembarked on quite a successful solo career and there were a couple of reunion gigs, with Bonham's son on drums. More recently, CD compilations Remasters and the Led Zeppelin box set, digitally remixed by Page, have brought them renewed popularity. Page and Plant have also since reunited, but that is another story.

trying to dig it.

peace-ramichael

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Wed, 30 Nov 2005 10:14:01 GMT

i am mad. you know that kind of mad that sits between the devil and hell. the bloody red kind of mad. pist. i am mad. you know the kind of mad when someone copies you. the jealousy kind of mad. that mad when you miss your favorite tv show because your sister needs to be picked up. like a star fell from the sky and hit your head mad. stars are far away. when the jury read guilty, the heart sinking phrase kind of mad. i am mad. way past the hatter and tea so hot gots me burning more on the latter mad. why do i have to give way to the casper colored man because i am an islander mad. your boyfriend just cheated on you with your little sister and now she's pregnant mad. i am mad angry. mad angry. driving down the street, and an explorer cuts you off mad. angry like studying so hard the only light you got is the moon and scoring low. mad. that laguna bitch priveleged mattel peached skin. mad. when someone hurts someone you love so much that it leaves scars inside their heart wanting to twist a neck mad. president mad. i am mad and angry. angry mad.

and you wanna know why? the crypt himself slipped me the note, we got second period together. it read: you may never be able to hear your papa's voice ever again.

bone chills run through the layers that totem pole up my spine. never more scared in my life, knocking the nerves to break and to lose all sense of feeling-the kind when your cotton candy feels like heaven's clouds. losing any sense of will, i've succumb to him. i weaken but my heart still beats. it beats to reach out possibility in the sense of defining infinity. it calls for its peoples and warriors, it has begun. beats so loud with each bump base fierce. fierce calls for its peoples and warriors to begin. i try to be strong. i'm weakening too. as his liver is so weak to function, its vital role with its family glistening a sweat to compensate for the failure. but you see, like he and she, i and we, us and them we need it in the end. we are one link to link chain lettered 32 cent stamp circle. as his liver fails, so does my heart. the passion thins out, the torch near dim. i'm scared right now and it can't be relieved. i finally reached that chapter i've heard about, and i chill in chills. yah, that kind of scared.

peace-ramichael