I am rarely so moved by an album as to compel me to write about it the moment I finish listening to it for the first time.

Woman, by Canadian/Danish duo Rhye, couldn't have come to me at a more opportune time. And it's so funny that it's titled as such, because there couldn't be a better time for one's femininity to be adored than at a time when one is weakest and incapacitated by this very woman-ness. (Ha. Subtle.)

The songs are so clean and so crisp, in both an aural and conceptual sense. The beats are put together so evenly, almost like an exact science, and there is a precision in the lyrics that evoke a calculated, but slightly quivering honesty. There is a sense of quietness and of calm all throughout, but it is contrasted by the bold declarations of emotions that permeate through the entire album. And just rightly so. It was written at a time where Mike Milosh, who does the surprisingly gentle and soft vocals, was falling in love with the woman who will eventually become his wife. "Open" and "The Fall" are such great openers; and the album aptly ends with the title song "Woman" which is a litany of adoration to the beloved, and a flawless one at that. It is not entirely a love album, in that there are no grand gestures and fireworks here, and it is not entirely a sex album, because there is no overt objectification of the flesh.

Perhaps, Woman is better described as an album of intimacy. It is about the shake between the thighs, the sound of the sighs, the shape left on the sheets, the scent lingering between fingers, and the riffs that play in between. It is all of those quiet moments, and the loudness with which they ring inside our chests. There is a softness in the way affirmations leave the mouth and the skin, without so much the need to declare a permanence -- only an attachment.

And sometimes, that's enough.

I am rarely so moved by an album as to compel me to write about it the moment I finish listening to it for the first time.

Woman, by Canadian/Danish duo Rhye, couldn't have come to me at a more opportune time. And it's so funny that it's titled as such, because there couldn't be a better time for one's femininity to be adored than at a time when one is weakest and incapacitated by this very woman-ness. (Ha. Subtle.)

The songs are so clean and so crisp, in both an aural and conceptual sense. The beats are put together so evenly, almost like an exact science, and there is a precision in the lyrics that evoke a calculated, but slightly quivering honesty. There is a sense of quietness and of calm all throughout, but it is contrasted by the bold declarations of emotions that permeate through the entire album. And just rightly so. It was written at a time where Mike Milosh, who does the surprisingly gentle and soft vocals, was falling in love with the woman who will eventually become his wife. "Open" and "The Fall" are such great openers; and the album aptly ends with the title song "Woman" which is a litany of adoration to the beloved, and a flawless one at that. It is not entirely a love album, in that there are no grand gestures and fireworks here, and it is not entirely a sex album, because there is no overt objectification of the flesh.

Perhaps, Woman is better described as an album of intimacy. It is about the shake between the thighs, the sound of the sighs, the shape left on the sheets, the scent lingering between fingers, and the riffs that play in between. It is all of those quiet moments, and the loudness with which they ring inside our chests. There is a softness in the way affirmations leave the mouth and the skin, without so much the need to declare a permanence -- only an attachment.

And sometimes, that's enough.

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.

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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)

   

Recently

A few minutes into the short conversation I just h...
On being pursued
Oh universe,
Psalm 63
the only flaw, you are flawless but i just can't ...
On dating law students
the places you have come to fear the most
Ask her if she wants to stay a while
Status Quo
i'm a lover without a lover i am lovely an...

This Is How It Doesn't Start

this is how it doesn't start, in eleven parts

Labels

An attempt at poetry; Books; Bullets; Creative nonfiction; CW; Featured; Feeble attempts at poetry; Fiction; Finger exercises; Law school; Mixtape; Playwriting; Poetry; Senioritis; Shuffle Wednesdays; Summer; The Pillow Book; Thesis; UP

Archives

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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 Question

Are 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 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.

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.

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