Beyoncé has once again empowered her legion and shook the rest of the world with a simulating performance during the latest GRAMMY Awards. Nonetheless, as any other famous personality, the pregnant queen is not immune to criticism, drawing hateful comments that spring from the nature of her number.
“Was she trying to be the Virgin Mary? Does she really think she’s that famous to wear a headpiece made for the gods?”
Here’s a peek:
But what does the whole concept actually mean? Well check this.
It’s strangely a longer drive today going to work, because it’s supposed to be my vacation.
My watch says it’s just five minutes before 5 a.m., and here I am, already coursing through Governor Pascual Highway, alone, without breakfast, and cold.
I wouldn’t normally roll my windows down, but the atmosphere is tempting. Street lights are off, and headlights blur both drivers and passengers of every vehicle I see. I try to breathe in the relatively clean air, a luxury when you are tied to a depressing job that pays well. I wish I have more moments like this, where I don’t need to worry about getting stuck in traffic, or about picking up Rina and dropping her off to work first thing in the morning. She used to nag me for the crawl we need to endure in EDSA, for not filling up my gas tank before we meet, for the unreliable air-conditioning in my car. I look at the passenger seat, and there is no trace of Rina now. At all.
“If words are the language of man, music is the language of God and spirits. To me, music is the universal truth.”
Listen to LUSTBASS’ track “Vital Transformation,” and you’ll be tempted to believe that maybe, music really is a passage to something spiritual. It makes sense that this is the philosophy the musician adheres to, who is so adept at translating his thoughts to the physical world through sounds.
Doing music since his early childhood, LUSTBASS has assumed different names and has associated himself with different bands through the years: He was Villain when he was still into punk/rock, he’s a bass player for bands Wilderness and Chocolate Grass, a sound designer for imagineer company Migo, and above all, a music producer for various artists.
Having delved into almost all aspects of the music industry, it’s curious how Allan Malabanan, the man behind all these personas, has not gotten the fame yet he deserves. Aside from the music circle from which Malabanan has gained respect, only a few seem to know and appreciate the kind of music he creates.
We told ourselves that we will be millionaires when we grow up, that we will buy a gray French bulldog with black stripes and glossy eyes, and get him a maid in case he forgets to poop where he should. We will call him ‘Yunior,’ and we will find him a cat friend with blue eyes. This one we’ll name ‘Alma.’ She will have soft, white fur, and she will hangout in our bookshelves where we will keep your favorite book, Junot Diaz’ “This Is How You Lose Her.”
We will have a beautiful couch, but an even beautiful bed. You told me we should get the best one, because that may cure my “psychological insomnia.” You like to send me links on “How To Sleep In Less Than 15 Minutes” and “What To Avoid Before Sleeping,” and you buy me organic balms to help me sleep. We’re the total opposite. You, no matter where and when, can sleep in less than ten minutes. During sleepovers, I can wrap my legs around yours and you will be snoring still. I will look at your face, and then at the ceiling, and I will eventually wake you up. You will kiss my chin, half-awake, and I will close my eyes. And that little play will go on until I finally fall asleep.
One night you asked me if I prefer buying a condominium or a house. You asked me what our library will look like, and if books will be conjugal once we move in. You asked me if I like to have a big kitchen, even though I don’t cook. I said we can have sex in the kitchen and everywhere around the house and our talks of dreams turned into lust and into love and into more elaborate dreams after.