Favorite nightspot in Naga City: Garaje ni Anselmo.

An open air restobar that just opened a few months back, this place takes its "pagka garaje" literally. The seats are real bus seats, bought from the Peñafrancia bus line when they upgraded the seats in their buses. And yes, you can recline them! There's a flat screen ...TV that plays nothing but concert DVDs, a dart board, and a bucket of SML is less than P200.

Not bad at all :D

Henrick

Andal &

Bei

Bartolome

Rancho Palos Verdes Los Angeles California > Trump National Golf  Club + Griffith > Sunset > Hyperion Blvd

Flip over the s u n,turn it into a m o o n,bathe me in its milk light,wrap me in c o c o o n

* * *

Follow me down, will you please, through these roads in my mind
& I’ll shut my eyes as we wait for the tape to r e w i n d

*

To an A u g u s t of magic & dust & sour summer wine
& it’s there that my thoughts wander still every time
that the wind moves through the b r a n c h e s of these pines

*

*

You wake up so early
fresh s n o w on the window
two feet meet the cold floor
to pick up the r a i n b o w
of yesterday’s mail
a bright and colorful tail

*

*

Where the c h e r r y trees are swaying
& where wild strawberries grow
Can you hear the crickets playing?
a melody calling us all the way back h o m e

*

Kites in a m a c k e r e l sky as we’d ride across the town on your bike
The river lay still & mirrored the clouds

Look to the sky, don’t feel blue, im just happy i’m looking at you,
I’m swimming in oceans, im scaling some trees,
eEffortless it seems, I know where home is

I take a deep breathe, and I r e t u r n
I’m spiraling backwards
Through palettes and tones
The earth carries them
We are home

*

*

Walk with me & I’ll take your hand
& we’ll lay down in the grass
& It’s a nice day for letting your thoughts
drift away with the wind in the trees on M a d e l e i n e Street

. . .

We go for a walk
the lily pond lies still
& mirrors a hazy opal sky
faded & pale like old photographs
like the ways of a dream

*

We tread with people in their paths
Follow their signs and mystic marks
A mug of tea a cup of S a k e
A Virgin Mary with the M a r q u i s

By c a n o e and coracle
I solely own my carryall
Counting different coloured cars
We’ve got the same lucky stars

*

The birds are singing on a r o s e d a l e height
Where it’s the same soundtrack to everyday l i f e

Flying far above r a v i n e estates
It ain’t nature but it’s a great escape

*

I hear your voice on the telephone
There’s a picture of your face wherever I go
On a cover of a magazine
we could be such a beautiful thing

By satellite or the r a d i o
There’s a  t h o u s a n d ways I could let you know
You’re the king and I’m the queen
Oh it could be such a glorious thing

How do I  tell the story?
The pale stars? The sky’s dim glow?
The clouds that gathered silently above B o o k b i n d e r Road?

*

and the roses in the garden watched when the moment froze
As the door to that summer closed

Where do I continue? With the fullness of the moon?
Or the air that smelled of apples and September coming soon?

. . .

we stood on the empty pavement where seagulls dove and rose
as the door to that s u m m e r closed

Finally we settle with the view from a quiet room
we start again the story with the g a r d e n still in bloom

Flip over the sun, turn it into a moon,
Bathe me in its milk light,
wrap me in cocoon.

*