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I think I found the perfect way to explain it.
The Alchemy Between Us - Young GalaxyAmid the cold lines of the city
lay down your head
to quiet all the sadness to feel what's possible instead
your grace
I think I found the perfect way to explain it close your eyes and move within the alchemy between us.
________________________________________________________________
So many things to do..
I'm in denial that school starts again in a week. Before I get my festive spirit back on again for New Year, I better do something productive otherwise I'm dead meat.
Yes, Philo150 and CW130, I'm looking at you.
________________________________________________________________
A candycane gram!
(1) Mean Girls is the Best. Movie. Ever. (2) I've always wanted to do this number with my blockmates because (3) we've practically memorized the whole dance (4) even all the lines actually (5) So yeah. (6) Ohmygod is this social suicide? (7) I hope not. I love The Plastics. Haha. (8) Off to re-watch this movie again. (9) I hope your Christmas turns out to be sooo fetch! (10) Happy holidays!
________________________________________________________________
Tap on my window, knock on my door.
On the car stereo. Outside my bedroom window. Alone at night downstairs. At two o'clock in the morning on MTV. On shuffle mode. In the backseat. On my ride to school. In the shower. In between the sheets. Inside my head. While tangled up in you.
It doesn't really go away, this song. How it lingers in my head long after the last note has been played, how it adores me despite no mention of my name. How it drives for miles and miles and winds up at my door. How you've made it ring true after endless playbacks. How you know where I hide, how you want to make me feel beautiful. How it's so much like you.
I've had you so many times but somehow I want more.
-- Labels: creative nonfiction, finger exercises
________________________________________________________________
Oh hi blog, I almost forgot about you.
My apologies for not feeling like writing anything coherent for the last week (and even today). Writers always get these big, huge blocks that stand in the way and sometimes we don't even feel like wanting to take them on.
Right now, I am in trying to answer my Philo150 midterm exam. Operative word: trying. On the first day of Christmas vacation. Because I have so many other things to finish for the other subjects I can't afford to not do this one today. Professors never fully grasp the meaning of a vacation. Or maybe they do but they just choose not to. To torment us. Ah, UP.
________________________________________________________________
Bygones.
It's surprising how one can be capable of letting it all go with just a hello.
________________________________________________________________
The places you have come to fear the most.*
I can't even begin to explain how alienated I feel as I sit on this bed I've been calling my refuge for the last two years or so. For a great part of every semester, this place is home more than our actual house in Paranaque is. I go home every Friday to my parents, yes, and that is something I look forward to every week. But something about this small, little room along Katipunan keeps me warm, that makes me feel safe, that sustains my creativity, that calms my senses at the height of my apprehensions. True, it took me a while to adjust to it. But once I did, it was like finally discovering the palatability of vegetables: it was acquired taste, but soon I cannot imagine life without it. It's essential, it's home.
And now I look at this place, and I have to ask myself , how could it transform in such a short span of time? Of course the apparent change is Inna's departure, and that probably accounts for more than half of this estrangement I'm feeling. But more than that, the subtle, tiny little changes that have happened: the death of the dorm's owner (and our "lolo" in Katipunan), the replacement of bulletin board pictures, the rearrangement of study areas, the sudden leaving of the friendly guards -- looking at them individually seems so inconsequential. But putting them all together just makes this place feel entirely, completely different.
I'm supposed to feel at home here. And quite frankly, I really used to. But now, being stuck inside four walls with someone I do not know, having to stay in a place that is slowly isolating me, it's really difficult. It's hard to be grown-up about this when it's something so inescapable -- how can I deal with a place I cannot leave? It's not like I can go anywhere else. I don't know, I just really feel like a stranger to this place again.
I just really want to curl up in bed because it's cozy and warm and it makes me feel better, not because I have nothing else to do but to wait for Fridays to come.
---
* Listening to the Dashboard Confessional song with the same title. Thank God for songs that come to you when you need them most.
________________________________________________________________
Things to smile about.
When one professor constantly berates your work, referring to them as "trash" and calling everyone in class "lazy," it's difficult to find something right away to push you and do better. I know, it's something I should be used to right now. CW requires a gut made of steel: you have to be able to take criticism graciously at all times, no matter how subtle or harsh they may be. I've had my fair share of negative critiques from classmates and teachers, even friends and strangers, and I can say that I've pretty much taken them all in stride. But there are times when the severity of the words just really get to me no matter how tough I want to be, and at the end of the day I end up feeling really frustrated about myself, wondering what the hell I am doing in this course. This week just happens to fall under that category.
But surprisingly, fate found a way of turning this week up on its head. Another work of mine got published in a different online zine, New-Slang! It was a piece of nonfiction I wrote way back in August which I actually posted here in my blog called "An Ode To The Pillow Book," my own take on Sei Shonagon's work. I was inspired by our CL115 class last semester that I decided to do it for myself, and because it turned out to be so personal, I chose not to submit it for one of our class projects, fearing that having it "graded" would somehow lessen its value. Having other people acknowledge it as a decent piece of art just makes me so happy and excited.
Two pieces published in one week -- I am at a complete loss of words. I know it's not much, but it's definitely something. It's enough to make me feel like I don't completely suck at what I do, which is what I really need right now. My head is still reeling from all this; I still can't believe it! :) I hope you guys do check it out. :)
________________________________________________________________
I am a sort-of published writer now?
Dear Karla,
Your recent submission to Teen Ink has been posted on Teen Ink, our website of teen-generated poetry, fiction, articles, reviews, opinions, artwork, and more. Teen Ink allows you and others to rate work, provide feedback, and share stories with friends and family.
On our website, the highest-rated stories in each section are prominently displayed on the home page and elsewhere. Your work could be among them, so vote often and send the link to your friends and family and ask them to vote too. (Up to one vote per article per day.)
That was an email I got from TeenInk just this morning. I am beyond ecstatic about this, really. The story I wrote just a few days ago was something I did in like ten minutes, it was really one of those surprising, random bouts of "creativity" (aka sleeplessness). I just thought of submitting it somewhere because it might seem like fun. It was something on the fly, I didn't really think anything would happen about it. It's funny how this surprises me at a time when I'm really, seriously doubting my writing (insert insecurities -- acads are suddenly pressuring me right now) to give me something to smile about :) Actually, I noticed the website got the time wrong (5 minutes lang yung nakalagay hindi 10!) but nonetheless, IT'S OUT THERE! :) Please help me and vote for it if you like it; as the email they sent me said, the more votes it gets the higher chances of it being on their homepage and on the actual magazine are. Click here to vote for it.I am hyperventilating as I type. Kthxbye. :">
________________________________________________________________
X
It's funny how hugely different we are: I see the world through imageries and climaxes, not tension and mechanics. You stare directly at the road ahead of you, my gaze drifts about from the cars to the sky. I see the poetry in detail, you see the formula. It doesn't add up. It couldn't work out. It shouldn't mesh well. It won't go together. I am metaphor and you are science.
But, literature has the oxymoron and physics has magnetism.
________________________________________________________________
I think I found the perfect way to explain it.
The Alchemy Between Us - Young GalaxyAmid the cold lines of the city
lay down your head
to quiet all the sadness to feel what's possible instead
your grace
I think I found the perfect way to explain it close your eyes and move within the alchemy between us.
________________________________________________________________
So many things to do..
I'm in denial that school starts again in a week. Before I get my festive spirit back on again for New Year, I better do something productive otherwise I'm dead meat.
Yes, Philo150 and CW130, I'm looking at you.
________________________________________________________________
A candycane gram!
(1) Mean Girls is the Best. Movie. Ever. (2) I've always wanted to do this number with my blockmates because (3) we've practically memorized the whole dance (4) even all the lines actually (5) So yeah. (6) Ohmygod is this social suicide? (7) I hope not. I love The Plastics. Haha. (8) Off to re-watch this movie again. (9) I hope your Christmas turns out to be sooo fetch! (10) Happy holidays!
________________________________________________________________
Tap on my window, knock on my door.
On the car stereo. Outside my bedroom window. Alone at night downstairs. At two o'clock in the morning on MTV. On shuffle mode. In the backseat. On my ride to school. In the shower. In between the sheets. Inside my head. While tangled up in you.
It doesn't really go away, this song. How it lingers in my head long after the last note has been played, how it adores me despite no mention of my name. How it drives for miles and miles and winds up at my door. How you've made it ring true after endless playbacks. How you know where I hide, how you want to make me feel beautiful. How it's so much like you.
I've had you so many times but somehow I want more.
-- Labels: creative nonfiction, finger exercises
________________________________________________________________
Oh hi blog, I almost forgot about you.
My apologies for not feeling like writing anything coherent for the last week (and even today). Writers always get these big, huge blocks that stand in the way and sometimes we don't even feel like wanting to take them on.
Right now, I am in trying to answer my Philo150 midterm exam. Operative word: trying. On the first day of Christmas vacation. Because I have so many other things to finish for the other subjects I can't afford to not do this one today. Professors never fully grasp the meaning of a vacation. Or maybe they do but they just choose not to. To torment us. Ah, UP.
________________________________________________________________
Bygones.
It's surprising how one can be capable of letting it all go with just a hello.
________________________________________________________________
The places you have come to fear the most.*
I can't even begin to explain how alienated I feel as I sit on this bed I've been calling my refuge for the last two years or so. For a great part of every semester, this place is home more than our actual house in Paranaque is. I go home every Friday to my parents, yes, and that is something I look forward to every week. But something about this small, little room along Katipunan keeps me warm, that makes me feel safe, that sustains my creativity, that calms my senses at the height of my apprehensions. True, it took me a while to adjust to it. But once I did, it was like finally discovering the palatability of vegetables: it was acquired taste, but soon I cannot imagine life without it. It's essential, it's home.
And now I look at this place, and I have to ask myself , how could it transform in such a short span of time? Of course the apparent change is Inna's departure, and that probably accounts for more than half of this estrangement I'm feeling. But more than that, the subtle, tiny little changes that have happened: the death of the dorm's owner (and our "lolo" in Katipunan), the replacement of bulletin board pictures, the rearrangement of study areas, the sudden leaving of the friendly guards -- looking at them individually seems so inconsequential. But putting them all together just makes this place feel entirely, completely different.
I'm supposed to feel at home here. And quite frankly, I really used to. But now, being stuck inside four walls with someone I do not know, having to stay in a place that is slowly isolating me, it's really difficult. It's hard to be grown-up about this when it's something so inescapable -- how can I deal with a place I cannot leave? It's not like I can go anywhere else. I don't know, I just really feel like a stranger to this place again.
I just really want to curl up in bed because it's cozy and warm and it makes me feel better, not because I have nothing else to do but to wait for Fridays to come.
---
* Listening to the Dashboard Confessional song with the same title. Thank God for songs that come to you when you need them most.
________________________________________________________________
Things to smile about.
When one professor constantly berates your work, referring to them as "trash" and calling everyone in class "lazy," it's difficult to find something right away to push you and do better. I know, it's something I should be used to right now. CW requires a gut made of steel: you have to be able to take criticism graciously at all times, no matter how subtle or harsh they may be. I've had my fair share of negative critiques from classmates and teachers, even friends and strangers, and I can say that I've pretty much taken them all in stride. But there are times when the severity of the words just really get to me no matter how tough I want to be, and at the end of the day I end up feeling really frustrated about myself, wondering what the hell I am doing in this course. This week just happens to fall under that category.
But surprisingly, fate found a way of turning this week up on its head. Another work of mine got published in a different online zine, New-Slang! It was a piece of nonfiction I wrote way back in August which I actually posted here in my blog called "An Ode To The Pillow Book," my own take on Sei Shonagon's work. I was inspired by our CL115 class last semester that I decided to do it for myself, and because it turned out to be so personal, I chose not to submit it for one of our class projects, fearing that having it "graded" would somehow lessen its value. Having other people acknowledge it as a decent piece of art just makes me so happy and excited.
Two pieces published in one week -- I am at a complete loss of words. I know it's not much, but it's definitely something. It's enough to make me feel like I don't completely suck at what I do, which is what I really need right now. My head is still reeling from all this; I still can't believe it! :) I hope you guys do check it out. :)
________________________________________________________________
I am a sort-of published writer now?
Dear Karla,
Your recent submission to Teen Ink has been posted on Teen Ink, our website of teen-generated poetry, fiction, articles, reviews, opinions, artwork, and more. Teen Ink allows you and others to rate work, provide feedback, and share stories with friends and family.
On our website, the highest-rated stories in each section are prominently displayed on the home page and elsewhere. Your work could be among them, so vote often and send the link to your friends and family and ask them to vote too. (Up to one vote per article per day.)
That was an email I got from TeenInk just this morning. I am beyond ecstatic about this, really. The story I wrote just a few days ago was something I did in like ten minutes, it was really one of those surprising, random bouts of "creativity" (aka sleeplessness). I just thought of submitting it somewhere because it might seem like fun. It was something on the fly, I didn't really think anything would happen about it. It's funny how this surprises me at a time when I'm really, seriously doubting my writing (insert insecurities -- acads are suddenly pressuring me right now) to give me something to smile about :) Actually, I noticed the website got the time wrong (5 minutes lang yung nakalagay hindi 10!) but nonetheless, IT'S OUT THERE! :) Please help me and vote for it if you like it; as the email they sent me said, the more votes it gets the higher chances of it being on their homepage and on the actual magazine are. Click here to vote for it.I am hyperventilating as I type. Kthxbye. :">
________________________________________________________________
X
It's funny how hugely different we are: I see the world through imageries and climaxes, not tension and mechanics. You stare directly at the road ahead of you, my gaze drifts about from the cars to the sky. I see the poetry in detail, you see the formula. It doesn't add up. It couldn't work out. It shouldn't mesh well. It won't go together. I am metaphor and you are science.
But, literature has the oxymoron and physics has magnetism.
________________________________________________________________
She's a modern lover; it's an exploration, she's made of outer space
Hello, I'm Karla Bernardo. If you Google my name, you will find the Wikipedia entry of a Canadian serial-killer (and trust me, you do not want
to read about that - but I'm sure you will because now you're curious), which is why I suggest you type Bombastarr instead so you can stalk me better.
I spent eight-and-a-half years of my life in the University of the Philippines, where I graduated with degrees in Creative Writing and Juris Doctor. It is also where I learned how to speak a bit of Italian, got a taste of the best tapsilog, and took striptease for PE.
I love telling stories, as much as I enjoy finding them.
<![CDATA[<center><font style="color: #ffffff;">____</font>Want <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/09096636074047764491">more</a>?</center><br>]]>
Featured Works
Stargirl ( Cover story for Nadine Lustre, Scout, January-February 2017)
Surreal / So Real (at Scout)
Ode to a Great Love's 17-year-old Self ( Love.Life, Philippine Daily Inquirer)
Postcard from Diliman
( Youngblood, Philippine Daily Inquirer)
Writer for Philippine Law Register
A Call to Arms (January 2017)
Expecting the Expected (March 2016)
Former Writer for Stache Magazine
The Hero's Journey (June 2013)
The 8 People You Become In Your Youth (June 2013)
The Best Bad Idea That Is Argo (April 2013)
Mike Ross Remembers Everything You Don't (August 2012)
Style Between the Riffs (August 2012)
Book Lovers Never Sleep Alone (June 2012)
A Spectrum of Change (December 2011)
Digital Art (October 2011)
Elements of Style (June 2011)
In Her White Dress (All-Art April 2011 issue)
Morning After Pill ( Fervore: Literary Folio 2013, UP Portia Sorority)
How To Make a Blueberry Cheesecake ( Kalas: Kalasag Literary Folio 2011, UP College of Arts and Letters)
January 14th ( 100: The Hundreds Project, UP Writer's Club)
An Ode to The
Pillow Book (at New-Slang)
Introductions (at TeenInk)
One by One (at TeenInk)
Ask, and you shall be answered
Got a comment, question, violent reaction, love letter, or random piece of information you want to share with me? Just fire away. I don't bite.
(I changed my form and went back to Freedback because Ask.fm's being a bitch, requiring people to sign up for accounts before asking questions. Because I love you guys, I tweaked my ask box a bit, so that the questions will now go directly to my e-mail, but I'll be posting the answers still on my Ask.fm for convenience. TL;DR - I'll still be getting your questions so no worries. You're still free to harass me / send me your love.)
Answers
Most Frequently Asked QuestionAre you a pornstar?No, I am not a pornstar, stripper, or your friendly neighborhood call girl. It's just a fancy pseudonym with a long history, and two R's. Rawr.
Bombastarr.com
Bombastarr is my personal blog and my little corner in the Internet since 2005. Yes, I started writing here when I was 13 years old (aka when I was very angsty, hormonal, and always gushing at the littlest things) -- ergo, you'd have to forgive me if you come across an old post that reeks of immaturity and slightly unpolished grammar. I did a lot of growing up here, and from the looks of it, there's still a lot of growing up to do, so I don't think I'll be leaving this place any time soon.
The domain, Bombastarr.com, was purchased on June 2014 and
launched on July 2014, on the blog's ninth year (and fifth month, to be exact).
It's crazy to think that this blog is now thirteen years old, because (1) that seems like an eternity in internet years, and (2) that means if my blog were a kid, it's a teenager! That's insane.
Here's to more tales, explosive and otherwise.
So, why Bombastarr?
If you've been living under a rock and think I'm a threat to world peace or an object of covetousness, sorry to disappoint you, folks: it's just a fancy pseudonym.
As in most things, it started in high school. It began as a joke between me and a couple of friends during our freshman year. We were practicing for a field demonstration dance which involved the use of shawls, and being the crazy-always-trying-to-be-funny person that I was (or I always attempted to be) I started doing poses with the garment. Someone started taking my picture using my phone, and one shot looked like I was posing for those B-list movies (or should it be R-list, as in R-rated?) of the vegetable-nomenclature variety. #IKYWIM. Hence, the word, "Bombastarr." Yes, very cheeky, I know, but for a 13-year-old, it was quirky enough to figure as a username. That was 2005, right around the time I trying to decide on a URL for a new blog. It's been a lot of years since, and what started as a joke became something I've eventually embraced as an identity.
Despite the many other chances I've gotten to permanently move (to Multiply, Livejournal, Tumblr, Wordpress; to a bigger platform where I can earn or use the blog as a venue for commerce), I've come to realize that Bombastarr is something I can never truly leave behind. It is a place I've grown to appreciate and love because it is a place I can call my own. It's a venue for my rants, my views, my writing. It is home, and it is who I am.
Bombastarr is a glimpse of my life: the thoughts, ideas, and stories that shape it into what it is, and what it will still become. This journal has been with me for all my crazy, often embarrassing adventures, but I'm sure there will be more anecdotes and feelings and people to write about. Which is something I'm really looking forward to. After all, you know what they say about the greatest stories - sometimes, there's still a lot that's left unwritten.
Credits and thank you's
This blog is hosted by PhilHosting.net, and powered by Blogger. The layout is coded entirely by me.
Photo hosting: TinyPic, Photobucket
Question box: EmailMeForm, Ask.fm
Copyright © BOMBASTARR
Elsewhere, she wanders
<![CDATA[
<a href="http://twitter.com/thebombastarr" border="0" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y234/bombastarr/twitter1.png"></a> ]]>
@karlabernardo
Friends, links & affiliates
<![CDATA[
<h1>Links & Affiliates</h1><div class="blogbody">
<a href="http://maryofthewild.com/" target="_blank">Ayiene Silvestre</a><br>
<a href="http://biancabiancita.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Bianca Cabillar</a><br>
<a href="http://latenightepisodes.blogspot.com" target="_blank">Cars Pascual</a><br>
<a href="http://ceejaedelrosario.tumblr.com" target="_blank">Ceejae Del Rosario</a><br>
<a href="http://inipitadventures.blogspot.com" target="_blank">Daryll Santillan</a><br>
<a href="http://mirelasestrellas.blogspot.com/" target=_"blank">Eura Yuste</a><br>
<a href="http://kissingfriday.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Gyk Icmat</a><br>
<a href="http://imyouronlyhope.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Hope Velasco</a><br>
<a href="http://deathcabforkitty.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Kaisa Aquino</a><br>
<a href="http://vain-aholic.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Maye Dellosa</a><br>
<a href="http://thedramaholic.blogspot.com" target="_blank">Ninin Sampiano</a><br>
<a href="http://speakinginwords.blogspot.com" target="_blank">Patrick Santiano</a><br>
<a href="http://walledplayground.blogspot.com" target="_blank">Paula Deveraturda</a><br>
<a href="http://thebestdamnconstellation.blogspot.com" target="_blank">Regine Aurellano</a><br>
<a href="http://arceecola.blogspot.com" target="_blank">Rose Basa</a><br>
<a href="http://spencetheknight.wordpress.com" target="_blank">Spence the Knight</a><br><br></div>
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