Muffled Chatterbox

In this post I bare my life...

2012-02-07T18:59:00.005+08:00

Last night, after four hours of staring at the monitor where creeps are headbanging against each other, I once again realized the importance of having a good fried who understands your personal and professional life.

As we wait for the jeep that would take me to the boarding house that has been my surrogate home for the past week in this city, I was finally able to talk about what has been boggling my mind for the past months or so. You see, the last time I was part of the employed portion of the Philippine population was last September. It is my stubbornness that made me do so. Partly because I felt that I should be doing something else.

Sometimes, I suffer from much internal conflict because of the principles that I have sworn myself to follow. For one, I believe in quitting a job first before finding another one. This might be something that has sprouted from my weird perception of respect. Why find a job if you already have one to begin with? Doesn't that come off as disrespectful to the company or organization you are working for? I guess it was just my inherent desire to come off as a just person which is why I justify my lack of interest in a said occupation by providing an avenue for self-generated stagnation by not doing what sane people usually do. It could also be because I am a stubborn and arrogant bitch that I feel that job-hunting isn't something that would be tagged under my belt as I am used with only having one to two weeks of waiting for a job I applied for before they come calling me.

Whatever the reason might be, I was in it for a bad situation. After resigning, I started looking for jobs. Sadly, nothing happened. Four months after resignation and I'm still jobless. I tried praying, asking God for guidance. Still, nothing happened. There was a point in time when I went from thinking that 'this is not what God wants me to' to 'God is only teaching me a lesson' to 'Is God even listening?'. To which the last one I am trying my best not to think about. But it keeps popping in my subconscious, as if it's the question all of humanity should answer.

I presume nobody really thought much of the internal battles I was facing. After all, I still manage to crack some jokes, spazz online, talk animatedly with friends, even counsel a cousin to go back to school after giving up on her studies. I still look okay. And what's so sad is that, I even fooled myself into thinking that I was okay.

It wasn't when I talked to a friend one night in January, when I opened up my mixed feelings of 'wanting to die, not wanting to die, and feeling like dying', that I realized how battered I was with all that was happening. Albeit that talk only prompted me to pack my bags and go to Davao for some 'soul-searching' (I never really thought I'll ever use this word in my entire life, but here is it now), it was last night when the reason dawned on me.

Bapa said that the reason why I keep on changing jobs and losing my interest is because I haven't found something I love doing yet. He was right. Somehow, I already know that but hearing it from somebody else ratifies the reason. I got teary-eyed after realizing how my professional life (or lack thereof) has been threatening my personal life all along. I realized how my principles, though just and commendable, do not always stand in the real world.

"Do not blame God or yourself. It is not your fault that the unemployment rate of the Philippines is high."

I laughed when he said this; but it was true, alright. I'm not used with failure and rejection so I felt really down when it happened to me. In that talk, I was enlightened with a lot of things.

Which brings me to what happened today that is basically the reason why I’m doing this post. My grandma called me. Apparently, I’ve been hired now. I am employed. In a government office.

Funnily enough, I never actually did want to work in that office. In this hiring, I am quite sure I am violating a lot of the principles I've tried my best to stand up to for years. The office didn't even call me, they just contacted my grandmother, and I'm not sure about the working environment there. But then, having something to do is always better than idly waiting for a miracle.

I know I may be committing the same mistake again by going on this even though this isn’t what my heart tells me so but I’m still hoping that at the end of this, I will gain something out of it.

Hopefully, it would be something that I will be proud of.

Right now, the most pressing concern that I am facing is that I wouldn't be with the trolls on February 10 for Syoo's birthday. :(

Why do young Filipinos write mostly in English?

2011-12-23T14:13:00.001+08:00

Sinubok naming lumikha sa wikang katutubo — sa wikang nararapat at itinadhanang yariin upang mahubog at mapagyaman ang Lahing Kayumanggi. Sinubok naming ipinta ang kulay ng buhay gamit ang maramot na tinta ng pluma; ikinintal ang panaka-naka’y mailap na bugso ng damdamin; hulihin at ikahon sa parisukat na dahon ang mga salitang nagniningas, nagpupumilit pumainlang sa aming balintataw.

Yamang hindi kami dalubhasa, ang bawat pagsubok ay nawawangis sa isang batong inihagis pataas upang bumulusok lamang sa burak.

Hindi matatantya ang hirap magsulat sa ating Wikang Pambansa — ang magamit ito ng puro at walang bahid ng kung anumang dilang banyaga. Hindi biro ang pagbigkas sa isang wikang binulaklakan ng talinghaga at inanod sa kagandahan. Kawangis ng gintong ikinahihiyang haplusin ng isang hamak na pulubi, hindi madaling gamitin ang Wikang Filipino - ang Wika ng mga Makata.

No Monkey Business

2011-08-18T05:09:00.001+08:00

This is a rant. Well, sort of.

I miss blogging in blogspot. I miss blogging in blogspot because this is the place where I can simply write all my thoughts without bothering about the syntax, grammar, matters of briefness and conciseness, and other hullabaloo. The words spill into the blogpad and before I knew it, I've written what might look like a brief summary of a series of novels. This explains why I could never ever delete this blog. Here, I am free of worries about what people might feel had they read my entry. Here, I speak and you shut up. (but comments are loved, of course) =))

So anyway, before I forget my real intention of writing this blog, I will start now. Haha.

Primarily, this blog will talk about MONEY MATTERS. Ta-da!

In today's world, everybody seems to be concerned about money, money, money, and more money. By world, I define it with the people who I am currently interacting with, may it be online, personal, or whatsoever. Maybe it's because we are in the point of our lives wherein long term sustainability is a big issue. In as much as I would love to look back on my wonderful teenage years, I cannot fool myself in believing that I am still a young kid who is basically new to the world.

I'm on my twenties now. And so is almost everyone around me.

This is the age wherein people are expecting you to either end or start something. End your education and start with your 'real' life. Thus, this might also explain why the 20s age group remain as one of the major target markets of numerous enterprises all over the country. When you've reached 20, you are expected to finish school and start earning. And by modern standards, earning now isn't anymore defined in a get-a-job-and-be-paid manner. Today, young professionals are expected to be at the front lines of development. And how is this so? By pushing them to do business.

Yes, I used the word PUSH.

I am challenging you to show me a person in her or his twenties who has NEVER been offered a business endeavor at least once in her/his life. By business endeavor, I am referring to business offers on retail promotions, wholesale marketing, and basically anything that involves buying and/or selling something. If we be blunt, show me someone who has never been offered ANY NETWORKING-related business. Quite hard, right?

That's primarily because networking is one of the, if not the most, prevalent business strategy there is today. I don't have problems with this or any business whatsoever; however, I do have problems with people constantly forcing me to jump into the bandwagon.

Let us discuss matters in a manner that is not restricted to value-judgment. We will not speak about how some people just want to get you to work because it will be beneficial to them because that's bad. And we will not speak about how these large fishes prey on small-scale entrepreneurs because they are of a better head start because that's bad. Na-uh. No value-judgments. Just plain and simple principle discussion.

There are approximately eight billion people in this planet and even with the seemingly factual report that 90% of the said population base their principles on what is being spoon-fed to them by the media, we are in no right to assume that all these people share the exact belief in money.

Everyday, we hear about how money makes the world go round and how having none of it basically reduces you into a status that is of the same level (if not lesser) than that of a pikey. Yes guys, money is important but in as much as it is a primary instrument in acquiring the basic needs for human life such as food, clothing, and shelter, it is not the only way for us to have the said needs mentioned above. There is also this wonderful concept that we call social capital.

I do not have any background in business (and I do not have any intention of actually acquiring one) but I am grateful of the fact that I have a rather good understanding of economics. I thank my college economics professors for being effective teachers and it is to them that I credit my ability to choose between options in a manner most beneficial to me.

See, I grew up with money being an unimportant factor in life. I wasn't raised to be materialistic and I am not easily dictated by the strong force that is consumerism. Because of this, I do not really find the need for me to be rich. And by rich, I mean having ten digit figures on my bank account.

Everyone wants to be rich, at some point this is true, yes. But everyone wanting to be rich is different from everyone whose goal is to be rich. Want is different to goal. Want is fleeting as goal is almost always eternal. In an attempt to make it clear, I will use an example using a celeb crush. Everyone, at some point in their lives actually developed a crush on a celebrity. It may be a small crush, major infatuation, or something that borders on obsession. However, the case differs per person. And it doesn't necessarily mean that when you like a celebrity, you actually want to marry her/him. You may come to a point of thinking about such but you will almost always find your way ending up with another person. It works that way too with being rich. Some people wants to get rich but these are some people too who actually don't find it as a necessary goal in life.

Like me.

Yes, it's nice to have good cars, large houses, and endless supply of Jollibee Beef and Mushroom, but trust me, my goals go beyond that.

To be honest, I feel that me dreaming a dream that is shared by almost 90% of the world's population is a big insult to my ability as a person. I can do a lot of better things. My abilities and my dreams perfectly mold into one another and I'm really sorry to tell you this but it's not in any way connected to being rich.

Let the people who want to be rich, be rich.

I can be all innocent and believe that you guys only want my betterment and see me a happy aging woman with luxuries left and right but sadly, that dream is YOUR dream, not mine. I live by the day and it might seem as if I do not have any long term plans about my future, but trust me, I do. I have already thought about what I want to do with my life even before I got into college and I am no way wasting my sixteen years of education doing something totally unrelated to it for the rest of my life.

I have no background in business but I know how business works. I have invested in my dream and that dream will be mine. I am working on it slowly but surely. And believe me, when I get there, I'll be enjoying something that no other riches can offer me. Who knows I might also be rich by then.

Unlike most people, money isn't my ambition. But it could be a part of it. After all, money and ambition aren't exactly mutually exclusive.

It looks like I've written a thesis paper so to sum it up, I'll tell you this really cute fact about me.

I am not born to be rich. I am born to be great. :)

Epiphany

2011-05-26T02:55:00.002+08:00

The streets are cold at eleven thirteen in the evening.

Mick, Jaejoong, and I were walking along Bajada after going to Elishar's wake. Elishar, or Chief to his friends, is a Sociology major who has been my classmate in one too many minor subjects back in college. I cannot actually consider us as close friends (or maybe even friends, at all). I'm pretty sure I never had any conversation with him except maybe exchanges of hi and hello. I cannot even remember his face when Mick broke me the news. All I remember is that sinking feeling in my stomach when I heard that he has passed away. The name, which has become all too familiar from the countless number of times I've heard it during roll calls or from the mouth of friends, resonated at the back of my head. And I know that even though Chief and I never shared a moment that I can rightfully remember, I have to pay respect to the familiar stranger who I share 80% of my network web back in college.

I've seen friends at the wake. Friends whom I haven't seen yet since that fateful day two years ago when we walked down the university field with our togas and diplomas. It's a reunion. In the simplest sense of the word. Tears fell, even without me wanting to, at the realization.

Why is it that old friends get together only when they aren't complete anymore?

Stories were told. And because I have none to share, I was simply there to listen. Bayani said he thought Chief will actually outlive him. It is after all logical that cholesterol-devouring, smoker-drinker Bayani will have the shorter thread of life compared to no-vices, healthy-living, goody-two-shoes Elishar, right? But then, life is always unpredictable. Funny part is, Life also dragged his best pal Death on his favorite hobby of surprising people. Mere two years after graduation and Chief, two months fresh from the age of twenty-three, already passed away.

Mick is sad. He said he is sad because he is frustrated. Frustrations mainly not his but that of his friend. He said Chief still had a lot of plans. Of things he wants to happen and titles he wants to have. None of those will happen now.

Looking at the coffin and the flowers all over it, I wonder: Had Chief received at least one flower back when he was still alive? Had all these people sending their sympathies actually given him a compliment back when he was still able to hear it? And maybe because even with all the wakes that I have attended to, I am still rather ignorant with this rite, I can't help but wonder as I look at the silk sheets draped over the casket: Is it only in the time of their deaths will poor people finally feel how it is like to lie on soft and silky mattresses?

I was crying all throughout the novena for reasons not thoroughly related with Chief. I cried because I see people crying and I was reminded of what life is in general. Life, human behavior, society. It was there where I realized how it isn't after all death itself which makes people cry during funerals. It's not the departure which saddens them but rather the feeling of loss. It's not the absence of the deceased person but rather the absence of something from their lives. People cry not because someone dies. They cry because in that person's death, they are reminded that they are now one friend lesser than they previously were. In other words, they cry for themselves. For the overwhelming feeling of loneliness.

For some reason, it made me think of myself and how things would be if I die. First off, how will my friends meet? The Islamic way mandates the body to be buried immediately after demise and that means no wakes to attend to. Who will tell my online friends? What might be the people's reactions?

I contemplated for a moment and talked to Millie when I had the answer figured out. My friends could go to our hometown during the 3rd or 7th day after the burial. 7th day would be a better option because 3rd days are usually reserved for family/clan sympathizers. Because I will be buried already then, I want them to arrive together. I want them to talk about the crazy things that they can remember about me (they will never ran out of things to say) and I want them to share the stories with my family members. Jenny should inform my online friends by logging in to my tumblr or twitter or whatever and share the news. That way people will not wonder why I'm not updating fics, uploading manips, or logging in anymore. I told Millie this and she shushed me. I looked for a piece of wood afterwards so that I can knock on it. xD

Going home, we (Mick, Jaejoong, and I) passed by a convenience store. I'm always hungry (psychologically) so I went inside the store. My initial plan is to buy something and then maybe buy another on the next food store we'll pass by along the way. I was about to grab a huge can of Pringles when I saw this street kid standing at the counter. He might be around eleven or twelve but his size is roughly that of a nine-year old. He holds in his hand a single pack of instant noodles. Another street kid younger than him stands on his side holding a carton of juice. The older kid counts the coins on his dirty hands before giving it to the cashier. The money might be the accumulated coins he had gathered all day, may it be from begging or doing random street jobs.

It was a simple scene but it struck me. It was a humbling experience, to say the least. On how this kid, could have easily steal things at this rather large convenience store but chooses to do otherwise. I asked him if it's only the noodles and the juice that he's purchasing. He nodded so I asked him to follow me and choose whatever he wants from the store. He can't seem to decide so I took a bread from a rack, two packs of sandwich spread, and a liter of water. When I asked him about his family, he said the other kid isn't his brother and that he's already an orphan. I told him to stop talking and refrain from appealing to pity because it will take him nowhere. I am actually against mendicancy but I figured that spending my money on eating even when I'm not hungry at all is downright unjust when these kids barely have any to eat. He was all too happy and ran with his friend outside the convenience store. The younger one already had an empty cellophane on his hand and a pack of vinegar on that other. Turns out, they do not cook the noodles (of course, how could they, they do not even have a house to begin with) but rather mix it with vinegar. They have the cellophanes for plates and my heart broke a little when the younger kid asked the older one what the sandwich spreads were for. Mick told me to take a picture but I refused. We were about to leave when the kid himself asked me to take a picture of them.

"para di mi nimo malimtan, 'te." ("so you won't forget about us.")

It was a funny statement but I started tearing up. Stupid kids! Here's the picture, anyway. Older kid looks a bit like Yoseob, neh? :))

People might think that my job in the media is a lucrative one; but honestly, I live at a budget of $130 a month. Food, transportation, and lodging are included in the budget. How I still manage to live is because of my osmness. The $130 is now $3 less from the food I gave the kids and to be honest, but it is definitely the most worthy $3 expenditure I had in my entire life.

Looking back at what happened today, I felt the need to write it so that I will always be reminded of the lessons it has brought. On life, death, and the struggle one faces as s/he goes between the two. To Chief, you will forever be remembered by the people whose lives you've touched. To the kids, it might be the last time we'll see each other but I hope that simple thing I did will always remind you not to lose hope in humanity no matter how hard life may become. To myself, I hope I will not forget the lessons I have learned today.

That life is fleeting and that all the people in the world can be classified into three categories on how they react with this reality: those who turn a blind eye, those who blame, and those who stops for a while and try to make a difference.

Nomnomnomnorm

2011-03-26T22:15:00.004+08:00

I never knew I'm a non-conformist until people started pointing it out to me.

Which led me into thinking that, if I am a non-conformist, why is it that I still support strong values on certain principles and issues like murder, drugs, etc? If I, as a non-conformist, refuse, albeit subconsciously, to adhere to certain norms, why is it that I can't do so absolutely to all other existing norms?

And after sufficient reflection, I have come to the conclusion that, there are different kind of norms i.e. cultural, societal, moral. And of such norms, it is the societal kind that I find less worthy to be followed. I opt for moral norms because morality, though not ultimately constant, is at least, less fluid than societal norms. Apart from that, societal norms are mostly established from a popular vote or that which is approved by the majority; regardless if the banking principle is morally right or wrong.

Some may argue that moral norms are heavily dictated by society but this does not hold truth all the time. In fact, it is the society which bends the said norms.

Moral norms are usually universal truths. And when referring to society, we do not refer to one entity; but rather to the thousand existing groups present in the world. To address society as a single homogeneous concept is counter-intuitive and, essentially, unjust.

Moral norms exist but it gets bended when it is applied to different societies. For example, genital mutilation. The moral norm, and universally accepted rule, is supposedly, no human being should be subject to practices that elicit torture or something that resembles the idea of such, in as much respect is given to the idea of the human life. However, said moral norm gets redefined when applied to societies especially when the concept of culture is added. Cultural norms are a completely different story and I refuse to elaborate more on this primarily because I'm getting hungry and I want to go home now.

Anyway, my realization can be sum up to this: it is necessary that there is a clear line that is able to distinguish such concepts. My feeble contribution is that societal norms can be distinguished to moral norms, in a way that the former is fluid and is susceptible to changes.

I think that such realization isn't much of a help in creating a better world that is principally organized when it comes to concepts and notions. Thus, I strongly suggest that that there should be a clear distinction of what is moral to what is societal. The line that separates these two gets blurred along the way and in my opinion, that is very inconvenient.

Premonition

2011-03-12T20:04:00.000+08:00

First posted HERE last August 2009.
Reposted in lieu of what's happening all over the world at the moment. For Japan.

-----------------------

it's summer, the dark clouds continue to fall
your phone's ringing, will you still ignore the call?
no more trees to feed, displaced by dryers and lights on streets
the futile sun finally surrenders and retreats.

summer ends, a flower longs for a mid-year raindrop
unfortunately, all the clouds have been dried up.
now a neighbor mourns for a withered money tree
looks like money and tree aren't meant to be.

summer has been moved to june
will there be winter in tropical places soon?
as the sun swallows our world that's becoming smaller
we will see our future underwater.

~Rizza Jane Villanueva, Trade Off

If Sartre is alive...

2011-03-09T01:38:00.005+08:00

Passing by the EDSA monument as we (Carla and I) go back and forth Makati Shang brought me momentary reflection about the idea of political ideologies. On how they necessarily affect political decisions on states no matter how theoretical these paradigms may be. And it is especially accentuated by the domino effect that has hit MENA countries on its stand on democracy.

It started in Tunisia; spreading unto Egypt. And now into Libya. People are marching on streets. Lives are lost. Entire nation, basically, in chaos. All for the name of democracy and freedom.

But is it really what people perceive it to be?

It appears to me as if the entire world is heavily romanticizing the concept of democracy. If you are born in a 'democratic' country and has lived in the post-Cold War era for basically the rest of your life, chances are, you have heard of the common rhetorical cliche that is "this is a free country, I can do what I want" or something of that sort.

It never occurred to me how fallacious that statement can get until that MRT ride last February 26.

You see, "free countries" do not exist. Even in economics. An absolutely free economy is unheard of. By absolute freedom we mean the absence of government intervention. The only place in the world where the government doesn't interfere with its economy is Somalia (and that's primarily because their government is still on the rocks from all the tribal wars).

To take a chance on a more politically correct term, one should change "free country" to "democratic country". However, this can also be fallacious when attached with the notion of freedom.

Lexically defined, democracy, by principle is not about freedom. It is about the rule of the majority.

Democracy
(Merriam-Webster)

a : government by the people; especially : rule of the majority b : a government in which the supreme power is vested in the people and exercised by them directly or indirectly through a system of representation usually involving periodically held free elections

In democracy, freedom is a mere tool to open avenues for the people relate their concerns about how things should go. Freedom is part of the deal but it isn't the be-all-and-end-all notion pegging the entire ideology.

So, the problem with people of today is that they equate democracy to freedom. And this is how it gets bad. With this misconception, that democracy is tantamount to freedom, people abuse the said principle. You hear them shouting on streets everyday, complaining about the price of gas, expecting the government to do everything for them, blah blah blah yadda yadda.

The worst thing is, they take any other political ideology that isn't democracy to be ultimately negative.

Like Communism.
If we would look into it, Communism is actually the ideal idealism. Not Democracy.

Up until today, no country has ever reached the ideal Communist status. Said "communist" countries are basically Socialist. Communism is forever ideal because it will never be. The fulfillment of communism demands deconstruction of basic human behavior.

Communism = selflessness.
And an entire nation being selfless is really impossible. SERIOUSLY.

As a contrast, democracy is easier to attain. However, it is also the easiest ideology to get deconstructed. Democracy, when it gets out of hand (because it CAN get out of hand) will lead to anarchy. Anarchy, essentially defined, as rule of no one and lawlessness.

When everybody claims freedom and the right to it, nobody will pay attention to authority and the spirit of real democracy, which puts weight to the opinion of majority, will cease.

My point? All political ideologies are ideal. But they shouldn't be the entire basis of what a state's political map should be. Ideologies are there to guide us. There are no perfect political ideologies.

At the end of the day, it all boils down to people working hand in hand with the government for a better society.

The World Now

2011-01-30T02:40:00.002+08:00

Today, EVERYONE is demanding freedom; EVERYONE is demanding equal rights; EVERYONE wants to get the larger piece of the pie; and then we wonder why this world is in rumbles?

People should stop thinking that what they get isn't always enough because THERE IS NEVER REALLY ENOUGH OF ANYTHING IN THIS WORLD. Before we point fingers and put our blame on anyone, let us reflect whether we've at least made a difference apart from our usual wailing and everyday ranting on why everything isn't right. Our enemies will always be of our creation. Wars do not spurt sporadically; a war will be yours when you say that it is yours. We should NOT claim fighting for a better future when we, OURSELVES, do not have any idea what this future is. And unless that idea of a better future is DETAILED UP TO THE LITTLEST PART, we should stop trying to destroy the stability of the status quo.

Momentary reflection brought to you by the chaos in Egypt.

Bam the Great's Guide on Love

2011-01-08T00:35:00.002+08:00

aka Blind Leading the Blind

Firstly, this note is a free bullet. It might hit someone, or it might miss all of its supposed targets and land on some dank part of your subconscious right after you read it. Haha. Well, some of you may know the reason behind why this note came up, but still. Here goes (nothing). =))

GUIDES ON KEEPING A RELATIONSHIP

1. BALANCE.Yeah, as if it's something that easy. Well you see, this is where everything revolves. Keeping the balance. A relationship is not a one-way street. It is a bilateral agreement, a treaty, a deal. It involves two people and thus, the responsibility should be shared by the two also. A healthy relationship is a relationship wherein there is no DOMINANT party. Nobody does all the decision or nobody just follows and keeps her/his head down low. Sure, someone may always say YES to you because s/he wants to keep the relationship stable BUT you should be constantly reminded that the other person knows a lot more words than "YES". Balance is impalpable, so how do you quantify it? How do you know you're not on the teetering off the edge? One word: COMMUNICATION.

2. COMMUNICATION. Communication is not measured by ten thousand texts of "I love you", "Did you eat?", "Take Care", and "dear/honey/bb, I miss you". Yes, those above mentioned may consist the first part but communication is more of the "sorry", "I did something not good", and "something happened and I think we should talk about it". Communication is JUST A TOOL for keeping the balance. Your relationship should not be all about it. Communication need not happen EVERYDAY. Because when it does, there's a tendency for it to become a BURDEN. Use it when you need it. It's a double-edged sword so choose your words. People have the tendency to say something directly opposite what they intend to. To keep it short, refrain from speaking out when you're too emotional. Emotions tend to cloud logic.

3. Do not PUSH the limits of anyone or anybody may it be for the sake of CHALLENGING THEM or for FUN. Because pushing is never really fun especially when you're the one getting pushed. We want to see our love ones overcome their little insecurities and transcend their limitations, but we should never be the reason for them to do so. By being that way, we take away the freedom of letting them achieve something for their own self-growth. Instead of making them a better person because they want to, they end up accepting the challenge because they want to PLEASE us.

4. Learn the difference between ZEALOUS and JEALOUS. Apart from the blatant first letter difference, there are a lot of difference between these two words. Proclaiming love to a person can be done in a million ways and if one of your tactics to prove your love is being super watchful over who's talking to who and what's who doing with who, you're skating on thin ice. There are varied level of cheesiness each person can take. If you can't be too cheesy, don't make up to it by being jealous. Instead of making the other person feel loved by showing him/her your possessive tendencies, s/he might feel that you do not have trust for her/him.

5. REASON. Find the reason why you're in the relationship. Assess whether the said reason is self-supporting or not. Reasons like "I can't live without the other person", "the other person makes me feel special", "the other person made me see life in a whole new angle" should not be the reasons why you're in that relationship. In my opinion, reasons should not even include the phrase "the other person". Relationships should work REGARDLESS of the people in it. If you peg all your reasons on a said person, the said reasons will not last long. One can never like someone too much, ALL THE TIME. :)

Relationship need not be hard work. Like, hello, how can something be that hard when your primary premise is something as wonderful as love? Right? Right. Relationship only gets complicated when you put other things like EXPECTATIONS and PRIDE. Contrary to my eighteen-year old self's theory of relationships-need-logic-to-begin-with, relationships can flourish even with the unbelievably shallow reason of "love at first sight". When you fall in love, you let your emotions wander free. And when you decide something important as going into relationships with your feelings running wild, never attempt to make sense out of it by inserting logic along the way. That would mess things up. It's like drunk driver steering the wheel of a steam-roller for five hours and then there's this sober person trying to get to the wheel just because the "driver is drunk and he might kill us if he commits a mistake". If we continue with the story, both people will die. Not because of the drunkenness of the driver but because of the fight that may have ensued when the other person tried to "set things straight" when there's nothing really wrong in the first place. (okay, I don't know if I'm still making sense but hopefully, you got my point). To push forward my theory of being in love out of pure emotional stupor, let's put in the theory of fairy tales. Do you know why love at first sight and happy ever afters happen in fairy tales? Notice how they do not really talk about issues of poverty, corruption, global warming, or anything needing brain cell work in the stories? That's because the characters do not have a brain. HAHAHA. But really, they do have one but they seldom put it to use. I mean, hello, a logical person should never fall in love at first sight! But fairy tale characters do. And they even live happily ever after?! That's because they haven't woken up from their "magical dream" yet. Had they woken up one morning and went "WTF, who are you!? Why am I not in my cottage and where are my talking chipmunks for friends?!", it would end in one sparkling divorce. So see, whatever you started, FINISH IT. Just the way you started it. (I'm still not sure if you get this part, haha, pm me if you have questions. HAHA)

and then here's the GUIDE ON MOVING ON. LOL

1. YOU CAN NEVER STOP THE TEARS FROM FLOWING. WHY? Because of gravity. Duh. Haha, I kid. Tears are good things. They are the body's natural lubricants to clean the eyes. And though some scientists disagree on the fact that only human beings cry as a response for something emotionally-triggered, it is universally accepted that tears clean the soul too. Cry when you feel the need to. But don't overuse your ability to cry. When you cry, cry your heart out. But when you're done, DON'T LOOK FOR MORE REASONS TO CONTINUE CRYING. If you do, you'll end up being bitter and angry at yourself.

2. IMMERSE WITH THE FEELING AND LET GO. This is easy to say but trust me, it gets easier when you try it. haha! When you feel that you have gazillion reasons to cry about, LIST THEM. And then go through the list and CRY ABOUT IT. Like when one of the reason says "Reason # 421. I MISS HIM TEXTING ME GOOD MORNING", go cry for that. Never mind if it takes you ten hours or what, just let the tears flow. But when you're done, cross out that number and DON'T CRY ABOUT IT AGAIN. Go listen to all sappy love songs and feel the words hit you. Scan your ipod/player and create a playlist for all of the songs that you think fit you at the moment. Listen to all of these and when the last of the track on the list ends, you should be smiling already.

3. TAKE YOUR TIME. Everything takes time. Don't push yourself to heal too soon. Mend yourself slowly AND surely. Don't rush things. It's okay to be not-okay.

4. FIND A DISTRACTION. This is not the ultimate answer but this is a way to keep you busy. Because no matter how hard you try to deny it, you will always come at a point wherein you'll wallow in your misery just because you have nothing else to do. It's a normal emotional response for your pain so as much as possible, divert your attention to positive things. Learn a new hobby or practice a hobby you have long forgotten. Try to see the brighter side of things and start within yourself. Love yourself. NEVER EVER BLAME YOURSELF. If there is someone who deserves all of the respect in the world, it is yourself. You can lose your trust to the whole universe but you should never lose your trust to yourself. LOVE YOURSELF. You need YOU more than anyone at this point. LOVE YOURSELF.

5. BE HAPPY. Why do we want to reach our dreams? Why do we want to be successful? Why do we laugh? Why do we love? Because we want to be happy. Happiness is the ultimate goal of everyone in the world. Happiness is a complicated word because we try hard to achieve it even if we consistently experience it along the way. Happiness is everywhere. It can be the other person, a hobby, a dream, etc. But one thing you must remember, NOBODY can make you happy but yourself. Think of your happiness because YOU DESERVE IT.

Moving on is not an easy thing to do. It doesn't happen in an instant. Take all the time in the world to move on and don't hold on to something that refuses to hold back at you. Remember, this is all about YOU and how you make it through by yourself. The beauty of the blooming flower, the warmth of the morning sun, the comforting words of a friend would mean nothing unless you help yourself.

BE HAPPY. STAY HAPPY.

There's more to life than the solar system, the half-eaten burger, poverty-stricken third world countries, graft and corruption in Macedonia, used tissues on a wastebasket, the internet, and the whatever thoughts I've written without thinking in this note. I paid an extra fifteen pesos just to write this and I hope you got my message.

Love is supposed to make us happy. If it doesn't, it's not love. :)

Subterfuge

2010-12-02T20:36:00.002+08:00

Dancing Fountain, People's Park
Davao City

My grandmother originally wanted me to take Communications Arts. I guess she has foreseen the need for me to have an avenue for my raging thoughts. I told her working in the media will kill me and she will have to suffer the guilt brought by the death of her eldest granddaughter.

Years flew by and I graduated with a degree that concerns foreign relations and diplomacy. My grandmother seemed satisfied. And with this, she keeps pressuring me to pursue my chosen field.

Well, I still see myself as someone driving a car with an embassy plate but to do that, I have to be qualified. Thus, I try, in as much as I can, to make my credentials colorful by working in a lot of fields. I've worked on non-governmental organizations zeroing in peace-keeping, social work, and community development. I'm currently trying my luck to expand my academic qualifications by applying for Graduate Studies in another country. And at the moment, I am grateful to have my job as a photojournalist in a local paper.

Yes, you've read right. PhotoJOURNALIST. Media. Haha. I am finally here. Who would have thought? After all those years of evasion. =))

I'm crossing my fingers that I will live long enough to pursue my dream. I am resurrecting this blog for this will be my temporary outlet for opinions. I still don't want to write. The pen can wait. For the meantime, I'll make use of my handy dandy camera. It's safer this way, right? LOLOLOL

So rejoice monsters (in thy head), I am back to conquer the search engine. Haha.

Ah, before I forget,

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Glass Child

2010-10-08T12:34:00.005+08:00

So, as I was saying from my previous post, I lost most of what used to be my interest in writing. Oh yes, I do write. I still write. One can never take away one thing which has practically been there since forever. But then again, nothing is ever permanent in this world.

I was taking a ride away from the office a while ago, just a ride because I don't feel like going home and I don't feel like staying at the office doing nothing either, when a realization dawned unto me. Somehow, I HAVE to write. I have come to believe that writers do not really WANT to write. They NEED to write. To give justice to the thousand voices echoing inside their heads. Writers write because if they don't, the monsters will start fighting and crying and wrecking havoc in their heads.

See, there's always a monster inside our heads. There's always a monster in EVERYONE. These monsters will see to it that they wouldn't be trapped in there forever. So in an attempt to save her/his self, a person should find a way to let at least one out. Some people free the monsters and they become lines, colors, shapes. And they move to another world inside a canvass. Some people take the monster out and turn it into a note, a beat, a song. Some let the monster out but still in its gruesome form. Unable to morph into something constructive but rather existing as a lesser impalpable form of the metaphysical thing it once was. This monster doesn't show its real face like those of what have become songs and drawings. This monster takes form into a lot of things: a crying child, a battered woman, a lifeless body, shattered homes. There is no exception to the rule. My brain houses only one monster. But it is a thousand-headed monster. And boy, does it have a quick temper! The heads argue and fight and contradict each other that sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night in my attempt to pacify them.

In lieu with this, let me tell a story. There was once a girl who likes, no, loves tackling the said monster. She had a thousand different cards under her belt on how to strike. And she was very young, then. I heard she discovered the monster when she was six. Her first encounter was similar to most people's firsts. She sat and cried. But as days passed, she developed new tactics in dealing with them. She started looking at the monster from afar. Familiarizing it, memorizing every detail. And then she moved. At seven, she took one head with her bare hands, molded it and squeezed the goo out until it flowed into paper. Her little fingers made marks all over the paper, the careful architect of every line and curve. She liked the tactic much that it became her favorite for more than half a decade until she discovered another. Her initial tactic is to tell stories. To spread the word, hoping that somehow, the monster's voice will leak out into hers and they'd grew tired of shouting in her head. It never happened. The monsters never got tired. But the people who listened did. This has been a burden until she learned something at the age of fifteen. It was a rather complex tactic that even I am amazed how she managed to pull it up. There were times when the monster would be too noisy. To silence them, she'd drew a pen and start pulling the heads one by one into words. The words pile up one on top of the other. They stretch into sentences and they get buried on paper. The pen engraving them to their end. The tactic was discovered by chance, back when she was five, and she forgot about it. But when she used it, she sensed a familiarity so powerful that it did not take long before she felt a sense of comfort in using it. With this, not only had she learned to silence the thousand voices, she had also learned how to tame the monster.

That was during the prime of her adolescence. Words never ran out. And she was always eager. Somehow writing evolved from a need to something that she enjoys it could almost qualify as a want. There are a lot of people like her who excel in the said tactic. Most of these people have endless monsters and I have observed that most of them are on the equinox of their teenage life. I guess it's the hormones which makes you so determined to voice out everything. The hormones pushing the need to be heard.

But as I have said, nothing is ever permanent. The reckless girl grew up and became me. The call of adulthood took away the excitement in her blood. Or maybe she grew tired of poking fun at the monster. Or maybe the fact that the monster has aged too; thus, the feeling of taking a head and squeezing the life out of it doesn't pose as much as a challenge as before. Sometimes when I think about it, I get amused with how I coined the title of this blog: Muffled Chatterbox. The silent battle of a soul who has a took a head; managed to show it to the world, but far from the form of what it was before. The world is amazed but it is not seeing the head which is supposed to be what the girl wants it to see. It sees a dead, decayed piece of monstrosity. And a dead monster isn't even half as scary as a live one.

I grew up and got tired of fighting monsters. The monster itself got tired of me. So at night, they sleep before I could get a chance to check up on them. The curiosity was lost. And so was the fervor that must have fueled my youthful years. Sometimes, I would think of what the teenage girl used to do and I would frown. She was gone but I still see a lot of her in different people. And I would frown. I frown because I know that somewhere down the road of life, they will eventually get tired of being always full of life. I frown and I get sad because they appear like shiny brand-new race cars zooming fast on their early days; but then end up as a chugging vehicle in just a matter of a few years time. Burned out.

Earlier this day, a trisikad driver merrily told me that my office mate is actually the spouse of his former employer. I gave what might be a grunt and shifted my attention to the graying afternoon sky.

If the little girl who used to fight monsters were in my position, she would say, "Oh really? Tell me about it!"

And the simple inquiry will stretch into a long conversation. Just thinking about it makes me lazy. And frown. But I'm sure the little girl would be happy for that small piece of information she wouldn't really find worth using for. She'd be happy.

I guess, I have to write again to be that little girl.

Or maybe, it's the other way around.

The Evolution of Status Messages

2010-09-18T17:11:00.003+08:00

They were mere status messages before. But now, it’s undeniably the era of plurk, twitter, tumblr and all micro-blogging sites.

See, I’ve been using my plurk for exactly seven hundred and thirty days now (I celebrated my second year anniversary last September 08), and I realized how micro-blogging actually affected my way of writing. Long before plurk entered my life, I write blogs the way an amateur novelist would write a “brief summary” of her novel. Thus, the minuscule scroll bar depicting the entire length of one specific blogpost. Then plurk happened and everything changed. I lost my ability to string words and I find it difficult to write about one topic without my mind wandering to some far off universe. Later after reading this whole post, you’d see how messed up of a writer I am now. :(

In today’s world, there is clamor for wrapping up wit in one or two sentences. Brief, straight to the point. That’s the reason why you can never go wrong with one-liners. And with the ability to do such one-liners, there are chances of giving up the skill of crafting lengthy but interesting write-ups.

Although some people may prefer having the shortest way possible, I, on the other hand, am such a sucker for lengthy but good descriptions – and it kills me that I’m having difficulty pulling off one now. Gahd, I used to be a fair enough creative non-fiction writer! And now, I end up writing short stories because I’m so used to hitting the spot with two to three sentences!

Okay, I’ll finish this blogpost now because I’m starting to get bored. It takes a lot of active and effective brain cells to conjure a witty sentence, but it takes more than that to write a lengthy essay that is never boring.

And I would be more than willing to pour coins on all wishing wells in the world just to be on the latter. :(

A Love Letter

2010-08-21T15:36:00.005+08:00

c: CrazyFaerie@deviantart

Dear little girl,

It's been a long time since I last talked to you. Time flies fast, doesn't it? You aren't the timid little girl I used to know. That fragile child who easily gets scared of the dark. Well of course, the world is a scarier place. Scarier than the confines of your dark closet. A lot of monsters everywhere. The sad fact is they do not go away even when you turn on the light.

But I see you're braving them all. You stand up straight with your head held high. You are strong with your fists closed and your expression taunting, as if saying "here, get a piece of me". You stand courageous and tough but I can hear your heart thumping. I can feel your pulse gushing. It's alright. Let it be. Everyone is entitled to be scared every once in a while.

I see you're going through a tough time right now. Those unshed tears welling at the back of your eyes. It's okay. You don't have to be strong all the time. Ask for a time-out and cry your heart out for a while. Cry hard but don't cry too long. And as you dry your tears, gather your sunbeams and stand up to face the world again. The world will stop and wait for you.

You always say you can do it and I have always believed in you. I have seen you stumble and fall but that isn't something you should be ashamed of. You are brave. I know you are. You aren't so little anymore. You've grown up, you'd always say. I know. But to me, you'll always be that little girl who believes in magic and fairies and elves and well-spun tales of happy ever afters.

Do not lose that child in you. Do not forget the things that you used to do. If you can, never get tired of seeing the world as if it's always your first time. Continue your habit of stopping in your tracks on your way home just to gaze lovingly at the moon. Keep counting the stars and keep catching raindrops. Chase the clouds, marvel at the colors of the rainbow, and take time to stop and smell the morning air like you used to.

Life is harsh but it gives exception to the people who see the beauty in everything. You can make it through. You know why? Because I believe in you.

It's been a long time since we danced together in the rain or simply sit outside the door watching the afternoon sun stream through the gaps of trees. I hope I could walk barefoot in the sand with you again. Or maybe share a story or two over a glass of lemonade and a platter of biscuits. I know about your life but I want to hear it straight from you.

The world is under your mercy. Keep the dream alive and don't forget about me.

Love,
yourself

Fangirl

2010-04-15T22:22:00.005+08:00

credit as tagged

If my eyes could speak, they’d probably be screaming at me already. It’s two in the morning but I’m still staring at the computer monitor searching for fancams to watch and fan accounts to read about the night my dream turned into reality (but sadly, without me in it): the Super Junior Super Show in Araneta Coliseum.

This is one of the reasons why I cry for the fact that Philippines is an archipelago. It didn’t help much either that I’m relatively dirt-poor living on a place two hours plane-ride away from the Metro. I tear up reading those accounts of fans crying upon seeing the boys, a mark of triumph and extreme happiness over hours of youtube-marathon watching on their variety shows, the time spent on reading about their interviews, researching about them, and the four long years of knowing them when they’re basically unknowns in the world of Philippine media. I wasn’t there when the miracle happened but I can feel it in the words of my co-ELFs; I can hear it in their screams; that even if we’re separated by the thousand electric fibers making up the computer monitor, I feel my bones trembling on the thought of what was once a mere dream that had finally happened before their eyes.

To some, our fanaticism bordering on quasi-obsession is something laughable and terribly “jologs”; but for the record, I pour in this letter to the world what most people fail to see. I write for the fact that fangirls aren’t merely composed of high school kids who feign adoration for the shallow level of physicality as manifested on the pretty boy appearance of the group. I write for the students who worked hard for that high grade so that mom and dad would let them watch the concert. I write for the young professionals who saved every penny’s worth just to see the boys. I write for the girl watching concert clips in an internet café and promising to herself that someday she’ll be there to witness it all. I write for future CPAs/nurses/psychologists/lawyers/engineers, fans – young and old alike – who at some point in their lives, tuned down intellectual arrogance to accommodate something that they’ve found happiness from. I write for us, fangirls and fanboys, and to everyone so that they would know that our worlds do not revolve on Kpop alone.

See, we are actually aware of what is happening with the world. In our online niches, we talk about what the world has become to, apart from those involving our idols. We mourn for the Polish people for the tragedy that took the lives of their country’s brightest; and along with it, we fear for the probable negative repercussions of the political vacuum that is currently happening there. We sympathize with our friends from Thailand; on how they can cope up with the current hostility happening in their country as it teeters on the verge of political anarchy. Though we may not look like it, most of us are registered voters and we sometimes discuss how the LAKAS-KAMPI party is slowly going down the drain with all the camp-switching that has been happening. We’ve been affected by the global financial crisis and on how its ripple-effect includes the no-internet-after-11pm ban by our parents so as to save electricity. We pour in our fan fictions the ugly faces of reality – the lashes and wounds left by Ondoy and the grief caused by the earthquake in Haiti.

Yes, we care. And it doesn't automatically mean that because we like kpop, we blindly accept all things related with it. Though some fans can be a bit loud with their obsession, they do not automatically represent the entire populace. I find a need to reaffirm the fact that just because we happen to like something that is not of our country, we are hence assumed as anti-nationalistic people. We may put on fail attempts in learning their language or liking pickled vegetables as a step on liking things Korean, but that doesn't make it a tad different on how we used to devour anime flicks and sushi rolls back when Japanese media was on its peak. No matter how submerged we may look like within this culture, that doesn't change the fact that we are still Filipinos. We may twist our tongues singing along in Korean but we will always look highly of how Charice Pempengco paved her way to where she is right now. Some of us may try as they may to slather whitening lotions in an attempt to be fairer, but there are still some of us who refuse to do so in respect for the brown, sun-kissed skin that has always been a trademark of a Filipina. Kpop fandom is different from all other fandoms which is why the impact of the culture shock is quite remarkable. However, it doesn't mean that being in it is a straight-up statement of surrendering the Pinoy in you.

Looking at it beyond the surface, our inclination towards Kpop is pretty much similar to anyone else’s inclination or liking something else. You can see it the way Republicans pledge loyalty to their party or how activist groups bank on their beliefs as a guiding principle of their organization. Nevertheless, our inclination, pretty much like everyone else’s, is not mutually exclusive on the idea of liking other things that may seem “of greater value than kpop” like history, geography, astronomy, quantum physics, nanotechnology, nationalism and other what-nots. In fact, there are instances when we touch on these fields in relation to our established premise of Kpop fanaticism.

For one, I’ve learned to digest html codes, java scripts, and other technogeek entrees in search for the perfect blog layout or the ultimate answer into downloading heavily-encrypted videos in the internet. I’ve scanned through the pages of the Vienna Convention noting that certain segment reserved for copyrights infringement. I’ve more than pushed myself in befriending Hanja and Hangeul characters just that I can find my way across the dizzying worlds of Daum, Naver, and Baidu. But not that I believe that all my sacrifices would amount to nothing. These skills come up useful in other things aside from what it was solely intended.

Mostly, what I treasure most in this sociological circle that I belong to is the idea that we break barriers – cultural or racial, per se. We’ve established friendships – from the squealing fangirl of a rival university to the fans on the other parts of the globe. We’ve necessarily, if not ultimately, tore down walls of established social stigma and stereotypes. Here in our world where we share one common bond, we’ve learned to see things in a different light. In a way our world exists only within the parameters of our computer monitors and the signal bars on our internet connections, but what’s important is that, our world exists. A break from the harsh realities of life. A break, but not necessarily an entirely separate dimension. Some may still scoff at the idea of what we’ve been pouring ourselves into, but it’s just about the simple rule of finding your happiness.

Someday, my hair will turn gray and my teeth will fall out; but I will never be ashamed of the fact that sometime in my life, I was a Super Junior fan. I learned a lot of things and I’ve got more than what I’ve bargained for.

I long for the day that I would be a part of that spectacular sea of Sapphire Blue. My world. Our world.

As for now, I’ll start saving up for their return.

Robber Blobber

2010-04-14T12:40:00.013+08:00

"Our house has been robbed last night. =))

Yes, exact words from my twitter account. And that includes the rofl emoticon. LOL. I know I might sound weird being all too cheery and fine even if I lost two of my cellular phones, but really, it could've been worse. To give you an account of what really happened, roll VTR!

I woke up this morning and felt the sun piercing on my skin. I immediately looked for my cellular phone (Nokia 6510) to check the time because we do not have a clock at home. HAHA. (This is the reason why I'm always late. LOL) I was still half-asleep as I tried locating my ancient phone when I realized that the door was open. It is a mandate by our dear old grandma that all doors be locked so imagine my shock when I saw the door ajar. I shook my sister awake and asked her if she went out early. She gave a groggy "no". I stood up and realized (again) that my other phone (the Nokia 3310 I left plugged on the charger) was missing. It was then that I saw our kitchen knife beside our bed and a terribly filthy scarf wrapped around it. I was like OMGISHFDASKFHAHFABBQ WE'VE BEEN ROBBED! I jumped out of bed, went outside, and was greeted by bags piled on top of each other. The contents of my sister's backpack were all over the floor and all the other bags were opened inside out. I dashed into the kitchen upon seeing the main door still locked, and true enough, our backdoor was left open. As if greeting me a happy morning.

I was speechless all throughout the first three minutes. And then it hit me, MY IPOD! ALL MY FILES WERE THERE! Office files, reports, fanfics, pictures! ~~Not to mention my Super Junior/DBSK songs and videos!~~ I found my trapo-looking messenger bag from Thailand (haha, yes I need to mention that) sitting peacefully (and in full view) on the chair and breathed out a loud THANK YOU GOD because IT WAS STILL THERE! STILL ALIVE! Apparently, all the bags EXCEPT for the trapo-bag were taken out. They must've mistook the bag for a blanket (since it's made of cloth and it looks more of a "sako ng harina" than a bag). Thank goodness because my wallet, ATM cards, one-week allowance, and other important things were in it!

I felt grateful because just the night before, I was ranting because my headset suddenly went dead for no reason. I usually sleep with my iPod with me, blasting off on full volume so imagine my annoyance with what happened. I grudgingly put back the iPod on my trapo bag and THANK GOODNESS THAT I DID! If my headphones stayed perfectly useful last night, then I would be crying my eyes out today for the lost iPod. I mean, the robbers TOOK MY NON-MMS CELLPHONE WHICH WAS NEAR ME!

I remembered my beloved DSLR (YOU'LL HEAR OF THE MANDAY MASSACRE WITH ME AS THE PRIME MASTERMIND IF EVER THIS WAS TAKEN) and I ran to check the cabinet. We checked the cabinets but it seems like the robbers only took out what was there to see. (It's a good thing my grandmother used my camera bag as container of her passport and all personal documents since I used to leave the camera wherever I just feel like it inside the house). DEAR GRANDMOTHER, YOU ARE A LIFESAVER! My sister still has her cellphone with her (she put it under her pillow) but her wallet, which was sitting near my trapo-bag, was gone. We were worried about my grandmother's jewelry box but we do not know where it's located so we assumed that the robbers would have lesser chances of knowing where it is too! HAHA!

After the shock wore off, I took my notebook and listed the clues we've seen.

DETECTIVE'S NOTEBOOK

Clues:
1. Set of muddy footprints outside the kitchen door.

- it was unclear exactly how many people were there but we are betting that they're around 2-3 in number. Four is too many and granting that our floor is made of wood, it would've caused too much noise. It was sure, though, that there's a child involved on the crime. We've managed to note two clear foot prints.

Footprint 1

Footprint 2

We used my sister's slipper as a yardstick for measuring the footprints. Footprint 1 belongs to a man, probably around my height (5'6-5'7). Footprint 2, obviously belongs to a child.

2. The mud on the footprints is still damp to touch.
- We woke up at around six and granting that the mud is still damp, they must have broken in at around 4-5 in the morning.

3. Trail of mud on the kitchen door.
- There were no signs of forced entry but there are trails of mud on the kitchen door. And granting that the roof of our kitchen sink is detached from the roof of our house, we assumed that the child must've climbed up the roof and opened the door from inside for the rest of the gang to follow.

4. Mud prints above my cousin's Alphabet Chart.
- my grandmother, in her attempt to teach my hard-headed cousin to read, made an alphabet chart hung on the walls of the kitchen. The char is directly under a gap on the wall.

5. Traces of mud on electric wires and bits of hollow block cement under the gap.
- prior to our discovery of the child's footprint, my sister said that one possible way for the robbers to get inside the room is by using a child since we can't think of any possible way for them to get inside the house without waking us up. Apart from that, we use a latch on our bedroom door thus it wouldn't be possible to open it unless you do so from inside the bedroom. Apparently, my sister's theory is correct as seen on this evidences. The child went through the gap (again) and opened the door for the others to follow.

6. The filthy scarf, the knife, and the moist floor.
- Granting that there are few marks of muddy footprints inside the room, we assumed that the robbers used the scarf to wipe away the mud on their feet. As to the knife, I was guilty of putting it inside the room because I used it to repair the headset. However, my sister said that there's a possibility that they would use it against us had we woken up in the middle of their "activity". Apparently, these verified our initial theory that it happened around daybreak as the floor was still wet.

7. Cabinets are closed, lights still off, and trapo-bag untouched.
- granting that the incident happened around daybreak, that's precisely the time for Subuh (morning prayer). We assume that they left immediately since most of the people around our house woke up already. They didn't turn on the lights for fear that we might wake up and cause a ruckus. And because it's dark, they didn't bother checking out the cabinets (and looking for keys). This could also be a reason why they haven't noticed the bag slumped on the chair.

8. The knife outside the kitchen.
- This was the last evidence found. Even if we are guilty of bringing our own kitchen knife into the room, the presence of this knife basically proved that they do have intentions of hurting us in case we jeopardize their plan. We're betting that they have been observing us the whole time since they timed their activity when it was only my sister and I who were left alone in the house.

Apparently, all is well. I lost two phones (goodbye SUN and AdDU Smart Sim!) but it could've been worse. What's funny is that we're more worried about our grandma scolding us for all the clothes scattered on the floor than the fact that we were robbed. Haha! My sister and I were joking and goofing around saying comments like "amateur robbers" and "walang mananakaw sa bahay na ito!". HAHA! Then there's also the fact that the cellular phones lost were those created during the time of Methuselah. I mean, hello, if ever I'd break in into a house, I'll make sure I'll get more than a Nokia 3310! HAHA!

Some of our conversations include these:

Me: *whispers* Men, wag ka masyado maingay baka nakikinig lang yan sila.
Men (sister): Okay. ah, Kaka Mot nasan yung posporo?
Me: *in a loud voice* ANDUN SA TABI NG ARMALITE!

Me: *upon seeing the foot prints* YUCK!
Men: YUCK! Ano ba yan, sana man lang naghugas sila ng paa!

It was a miracle, to be honest. It's a miracle because we were sleeping during the entire duration of the crime AND WE'RE NOT EVEN HEAVY SLEEPERS! Plus, all the windows were closed but the room isn't every bit hot. It's as if an aircon was turned on. I find my sleep last night to be very relaxing. As if someone is actually keeping me from waking up.

I honestly believe we were blessed. True, we've been robbed but honestly, nothing of real importance was lost. It could've been much, much worse.

Besides, it's not everyday that you'd get your house robbed. I mean, hopefully not everyday, that is. HAHAHA!

MacArthur

2010-04-13T18:00:00.000+08:00

Yes, I'm back, and hopefully I won't be on a hiatus again. Thank you Golden Land for the wonderful memories but nothing beats home. :D I am currently wandering in a sea of endless possibilities (LOL). Much to learn, much to learn. I'm still on the adjustment phase of, practically, everything.

I'm starting to miss Myanmar already. And for that, here's something that would always remind me of you.

Lilith's Jeremiad

She died crouching on the vertical box
with grains of rice occupying every available space
there is to occupy.

Somewhere, outside the door
hermit crabs are running away from the dark;
trailing tattered strands of
torn yellow ribbons.

Torn yellow ribbons tied
through holes, on clotheslines
and on the dented barks of coconut trees
standing in lines outside the house,
guarding the house
as military troops storm the streets with
their bayonets; screaming, thirsting for soft flesh – young flesh.

And little girls flee,
near the sea, through the city, to the woods,
not wanting to be seen…

like hermit crabs
they flee
and they hide

only to die crouching on the rice dispenser
with grains of rice occupying every available space
there is to occupy.

Someday, I'll trod down your lovely roads again. Promise. :)

Bum the Great =))

2010-01-25T15:03:00.006+08:00

Immaculate Conception Cathedral

Cotabato City, Philippines

Is in Cotabato City. Chasing pavements (aka enjoying the bum life).

No internet until jobless status expires.

SUBLIMINAL MESSAGE: on hiatus

You get it.

PS. please do not steal my pictures.

Love (full/fool)

2009-10-19T06:58:00.000+08:00

I’ve been lying in my bed for about sixty minutes now – and I still can’t sleep. The playlist of classical music playing in the background has been replayed for the umpteenth time but I’m still awake. These are the crucial moments, when the sharp ticking of the clock and the lullabies blend together, that thoughts conjure themselves up in my quasi-subconscious mind. I’ve been thinking a lot tonight. I’ve been thinking about that one thing that is obviously lacking in my life, which surprisingly I don’t miss a lot: lovelife.

I’m writing this to let it all out. It’s problematic how I do not see myself as a fan of that thing. Well the romantic love thing, that is. See, I am a very loving person. I love living and non-living things. I love animals and I even love spiders! And to say that I love my family and friends is an understatement. It’s weird because I can give all the love in the world but I cannot see myself on the context of being in love.

People say it’s a wonderful feeling. It’s happy and painful, but generally wonderful. And I feel jealous of all these people who’ve enjoyed such experience. If being in love is being unusually happy, then I have a problem with that as I am, generally, an unusually happy girl. If it’s feeling pain, then I’ve had enough of that, too. But seriously, we get hurt a million times in our lives and it’s impossible that we credit it all to a broken heart.

Maybe I’ve felt having both feelings before. I’m not really sure. I do remember the story and the characters but I can’t remember the emotions anymore. I think back of the pain and the happiness that is the usual requirement but all in vain. They say first love never dies, but I can’t feel any living metaphysical creature in my hypothalamus (WHY IS THAT SO? DID MY FIRST LOVE JUST DIE WITHOUT ME KNOWING IT? IF SO, WHO THE HELL IS S/HE? HOW COME I DO NOT KNOW?) Maybe I’ve already perfected the skill of burying all painful memories or maybe my hereditary forgetfulness has taken in charge because no matter how I force myself, I can’t summon thoughts of at least one of my painful love-related memories. As in zero, zilch, nada. (AND SHOULD I BE HAPPY BECAUSE THIS MEANS I’VE MOVED ON? LOL)

And it scares me how, when I think of myself fifty years from now, I see me alone in the beach looking at the setting sun. The scary part is not seeing myself alone, but seeing myself alone AND HAPPY. It’s terrifying! I keep on inserting pictures of people who have been subjects of my ~~affection~~ attention before but they just won’t fit in.

I CAN see myself old and happy with my friends and family. But certainly, no lover in the picture. And I feel sad. It’s weird to feel sad to see yourself happy. I don’t know. I’m a bit befuddled now. See, I’m not thinking anything while I type this. Just plain spur-of-the-moment random ramblings.

Some people write about love and how they want it to be part of their life so that they can feel complete, but I write about love because it’s not part of my life and I do not feel incomplete without. And it freaks me that I do not have any idea how this can happen!

How can it be that almost all the people in the world look for it so that they can be happy, whereas I look for it so that I can be happier? Well, I’m not even sure if love can make me happier. I feel like a freak. I’m happy without it. And that’s the part that scares me. HOW CAN YOU BE HAPPY WITHOUT LOVE? I’m talking nonsense now. But seriously, is it possible to be happy even if you’re not "complete"? Why do some people always equate love in a romantic sense? Can you not say that you’re in love without the romanticism attached to it?

But could it also be that I am just feeling apathetic right now so I’m feeling this way? Maybe it’s just a phase. Or that I love my independence too much to think about being with a person all the time. My, just thinking of having one person tied to you all your life is SCAAAAAAAAAAARY! (IT’S VERY EASY TO GRAB MY ATTENTION BUT IT SURE IS HARD KEEPING IT THAT WAY)

Where do you take love lessons anyway? Is enrollment still going on? Can I sit in?

Tsk. I officially freak myself out. Stop reading this. I have to force myself to sleep now. Sorry guys, random weird thoughts again. HAHA

Eyelids Ranting

2009-07-17T03:15:00.000+08:00

"Dear 3AM,we have got to stop meeting this way. I’d much rather sleep with you."
I’m giving myself 15 minutes before I shut my eye and catch up with the bus to Dreamland. I am seriously hoping that I’ll get bored typing what I want to write here so that Morpheus’ invisible slumber-army would eventually creep on my problematic, S-shaped, scoliosis-friendly spine and would then lull my hyperactive eyelids to sleep.

So anyway, this short, and hopefully precise, post is for those asking why am I suddenly very active in blogspot...

Granting that you are a friend, you probably know by now that I’m a thousand nautical miles away from the archipelago of the Philippines. And, being in the quasi-fourth-world nation that cradled the Saffron Revolution, the generous government decided that it would be for the greater good (of their kind) that they ban blogspot. Not to mention Flickr, YouTube, Friendster Messages, YahooMail, and a thousand other sites. (YAY! FAIL!) Thus, I can’t access my beloved site and was then coerced to create another avenue for my raging thoughts.

But by some glorious turn of events, I discovered the wonderful world of vtunnel. Ta-da! Proxies to save the day!

After weeks of blogspot-deprivation, I realized a lot of things. In as much as I will miss using the url of my wordpress account which I, being the pathetic show off that I am, believes to be a clear indicator of my ever-brilliant wit, my heart will always go back to blogspot. For one, I've missed the blogspot blogpad. There really is something with this ugly pad that purges my half-frozen braincells to write. As you can see, my writing has been pegged down to zero as micro-blogging sites basically sucked out all that is left of the writer in me. I am now reduced to writing one-liners that would bore the hell out of any ADHD-positive child. Two, I have too FEW a-post for the year 2009! Wow, talk about virtual cobwebs. And lastly, I realized how much effort I gave in designing the lay-out of this blog. I, Bam the Great, goddess of laziness and procrastination who actually managed to pull a decent-looking layout only to be NEGLECTED AND IGNORED by my own putrid self is something my alter-ego could not allow. Excuse me for a second while I strangle myself.

My blogspot experience isn't as perfect as before though. I can't access blogpages supported by the old lay-out, I can't edit my bloglinks, JAVA software is not working, and pop-ups are still banned. Nevertheless, this is better than nothing.

Anyway, it’s 3:15 already. I still have a desktop-ful of documents to finish tomorrow. I will now force myself to sleep. Good morning!

Be Ma Leh?

2009-07-15T21:53:00.000+08:00

“Where are you?!”

That’s the nth time I’ve been asked that question from the nth person who wondered why the streets of Davao is suddenly less than a hundred decibels noisy and then to find out that I’m actually missing in the picture. Yes, I’m probably somewhere scattering chaos and plotting world domination, but really, WHERE AM I NOW?

Well, the last time I checked, I woke up this morning to a place about ten thousand miles away from home, beneath yellow clouds and murders of crow perched up on electric wires, before a country torn by turmoil, tribal diversity, and religious disparity.

Sure, four months has been a long time and I do terribly miss the blue-tinted glass walls of Ateneo. I even feel like waking up late only to hang around the school grounds. But sadly, I don’t have the luxury to lag around and goof all day. That’s because I have something to do – wake up early, go to work, and at least try to create a difference in the lives of the people I meet here in Myanmar.

It’s funny, really, how I ended up here. See, I was never this straight-A student back in college. In fact, I don’t remember being a responsible student at all. I always find ways to make the most of the allowable absences quota in every subject. I never lifted a finger to study and the midnight oil still remains full to the brim. Nevertheless, if there is one thing I made up for my laxity in academics, it’s my involvement in school. I was part of club this and club that. Though my membership purpose is not for grade matters and extra-curricular what-have-yous, I joined these clubs because I don’t want a lone SAMAHAN stamped under my affiliations list on the school yearbook. Shallow as it may seem, I joined clubs for the purpose of having a club. But karma strikes faster than you thought it could be. Before I knew it, the clubs that were supposed to be “under my mercy” got hold of the steering wheel and had the upper hand. I soon found myself loving the clubs and defending it to all its detractors. I’ve spent money, time, and tons and tons of effort for them – things I never considered doing for my academics. I’ve traveled hundreds of miles from Davao to attend a debate tournament, I’ve stayed up late in school to finish a backdrop for Division Day, I’ve been rooted to one booth during fiesta to do Henna Tattoos, I’ve been an official “yaya” for the hosts of Awitenista, I’ve interviewed one of the university’s big-shot men for the school publication, and I’ve sacrificed one day off my weekends to watch over sophomore kids as they venture out in their NSTP adventures.

The NSTP Volunteer Pool – as I contemplate about it now, my NSTP experience is one of the major push factors that brought me to where I currently am. Like all my other clubs, I joined the volunteer group program for NSTP so that I could have a long list of organizations in my yearbook profile. It also helped that NSTP gives away free shirts. I never expected that we’re given allowances so imagine my shock (and sublime happiness) when I learned about it. As volunteer in the program, I’ve learned a lot of things, been to many places, established friendships with great people, and unknowingly embraced the values the Ateneo has long been teaching its protégés. Had I known that being a volunteer includes virtuous side-effects, I would’ve never joined. Haha, I kid.

Seriously, joining the NSTP volunteer group is easy; doing the job effectively is another matter. For one, there’s a huge difference between an NSTP volunteer and a real NSTP volunteer.

It’s easy to be a mere volunteer; all you need is a boring Saturday schedule, an application form, and an interview. On the other hand, the real NSTP volunteer gives a new meaning to the word “assisting”. She does not just go around loitering in the area and hovering above second year students. She knows that her job is not limited to listing the attendance and claiming allowance. She is not defined by her colored NSTP shirt with a VOLUNTEER print stenciled in the bottom left part, nor is she marked such just because she’s older and has “graduated” from the program. The real NSTP volunteer is not just another jaded student who has got nothing to do with her free time; she is a friend, a sister, a mentor, and a learner.

Here, she enters a stage of metamorphosis where she is coerced to understand and accept that there’s a bigger, and often more cruel, world than bad hair days, broken friendships, taken crushes, and lost cellular phones. She is forced to look into the less colorful segments of a kaleidoscopic world with both eyes open. She has in her shoulders the responsibility not only of taking care forty-five young people and making sure they would not get hurt or would not hurt anyone or anything on the way. She has to make sure that they would, if not learn; acknowledge the idea of looking at the ugly face of reality without turning their back or turning a blind eye. Here, she is compelled to grow up.

Too much drama, eh? Hehe. But honestly, it is difficult to be a real NSTP volunteer. SICO didn’t orient us about all these values for it is already assumed that in joining the NSTP volunteer pool, you are already aware of such. But you do know that assumptions usually turn up contrary to what we expect, right?

Take me for example; my sole purpose for joining the pool is the yearbook. I know nothing about such values. But having all those Saturdays with my great NSTP partner, brilliant students, and wonderful townsfolk, I’d be the biggest liar if I say that this noble-doing didn’t grow on me. I haven’t been a mere volunteer; but I’m not a real NSTP volunteer either. I never got there. I cannot say that I’ve instigated strong values of compassion to all my students to last them a lifetime. But that’s the beauty of learning things through experience: knowing that even with the length and amount of efforts you’ve sacrificed, your job is not yet done. :D

So, where am I again?
I’m on the road to changing the world.

For those who sorta missed my noise, cheer up! I’ll bring you a betel leaf when I return. =))

---
Yesh my dears, I'm back in blogspot. A heartfelt thanks to the great wonder that is vtunnel. >:]

I am the biggest loser I know

2009-07-13T18:49:00.000+08:00

If I can't read half of the books in this list within a year, I'd kill myself. And I'll be bringing you with me. So help me find a copy, NOW.

To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
Animal Farm - George Owell
Ulysses - James Joyce
The Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
East of Eden - John Steinbeck
Gone With the Wind - Margaret Mitchell
Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
The Sound and the Fury - William Faulkner
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest - Ken Kessey
The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde
Moby Dick - Herman Melville
A Farewell to Arms - Ernest Hemingway
Rebecca - Daphne du Maurier
Little Women - Louisa May Alcott
The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
The Old Man and the Sea - Ernest Hemingway
The Unbearable Lightness of Being - Milan Kundera
I, Claudius - Robert Graves
The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
To the Lighthouse - Virginia Woolf
1984 - George Orwell
Death Comes for the Archbishop - Willa Cather
Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit - Jeanette Winterson
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings - Maya Angelou
The Color Purple - Alice Walker
Neuromancer - William Gibson
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
The God of Small Things - Arundhati Roy
Perfume - Patrick Suskind
Fahrenheit 451 - Ray Bradbury
The World According to Garp - John Irving
Invisible Man - Ralph Ellison
Mrs Dalloway - Virginia Woolf

Yes, old-school fiction, yo. Because I can't believe that I've lasted two decades without reading ANY OF THOSE CLASSICS.

PS. to the person who "borrowed" my Midnight's Children and Andersen's Fairy Tales, I will look for you and gas you (and your family) to death unless you return that to me. I'm going home this December and I expect my books to welcome me before you do. Okay? OKAY.

Proven and Tested Street Food bow

2009-03-11T01:07:00.005+08:00

Proven. Pruben. Proben. Provent.

Matagal nang palaisipan sa akin kung ano ang tamang spelling at kung saang parte ba talaga ng ng manok makikita ang proven/pruben/proben. Basta ang alam ko, hindi ito balat tulad ng pagaakala ng nakararami.

At malamang, hindi lang ako ang nagtataka. Minsan ay natanong yan sa akin ni Tere.
Tere: Ate Bam, ano tawag dito?
Ako: Proven. Chicken Proven.
Tere: Ha? Bakit?
Ako: Kasi Proven and Tested Dirty.

Oo, nagjoke ako pero hindi dun natapos ang lahat. Hindi mapapalagay ang loob ko kung hindi ko malalaman ang tamang kasagutan. Kung kaya ako ay nagresearch kung ano ba talaga ang kasaysayan ng street food na yan.

At ayon nga sa aking pananaliksik, ang chicken proven/pruben/provent ay piniritong proventriculus. Ang proventriculus ay pre-requisite para masali sa tropa ng mga Avian (birds). In short, kung wala kang proventriculus, hindi ka papasang ibon/manok/pato/gansa blah blah blah. Maihahawig sa stomach ng mga mammals ang proventriculus. Ang proventriculus (tawagin na nating proven dahil napapagod na akong itype ang buong pangalan nito) ay ang glandular na bahagi ng digestive system ng ibon. Meron itong mga cells na siyang lumilikha ng hydrochloric acid, pepsin, mucus at iba pang digestive enzymes na siyang tutunaw sa pagkain.

Ang proventriculus ang nag-uugnay sa balunbalunan (gizzard) at esophagus ng mga ibon.

Makakatulong ang mga links na ito kung mayroon pa kayong mga nais hanapin na kasagutan ukol sa katawan ng mga ibon:

http://fsc.fernbank.edu/birding/digestion.htm
http://www.epa.qld.gov.au/nature_conservation/wildlife/caring_for_wildlife/carers_kit/birds/biology/?

Haha! Chuy noh? :p

What’s wrong with the TWILIGHT FAD and why?

2008-12-15T14:06:00.000+08:00

I’ve read a few chapters of the book and I’ve watched the movie. So I think it’s fair that I give my opinions about this Twilight fad.

I only have to scan the whole book to know what it’s all about. It’s a friggin’ love story! It’s a love story with vampire characters. Not the other way around. I’m not into the love stories genre so you can say that I’m biased against Meyer’s book. Hehehe. But then again, taken from the opinion of people who’ve read the book, I can say that Twilight, basically, is a light read. A LIGHT READ. So it’s quite obvious how it gathered such a large fan base. Love at first sight, happily ever-afters, “I can’t live without you” lines, and damsel in perennial distress. Haha. Sounds like FAIRY TALE to me.

It’s a sad fact that a lot of people are in love with the notion of being in love. An even sadder fact is that most girls dream about princes (or in this case, vampires) who would sweep them off their feet and proclaim undying love for them amidst all the odds they have to face. It’s sad. Unbelievably and irrevocably sad. It’s as if getting hitched is a be-all-end-all situation.

The girls (and if you want, boys) drooling/wanting/yearning/dreaming/screaming for an Edward Cullen remind me of girls who still dreams about a prince that would carry them on his palace and make her happy for the rest of her life. GAWD. Though Meyer had the twist better as EC is portrayed as a "monster" who is willing to give up his "monstrosity" for the girl "he wants to be with forever". And that's popping two dream bubbles with one stick: girls dreaming of turning a BAD GUY into a HERO and of course the highly-glorified happy ever after.

And though I may be over-analyzing things a bit, this “I-should-have-my-own-prince” mentality subconsciously creates a stigma of discrimination against women who opt to be single. It's as if they're the most pitiful creatures on earth. Very Anti-Feminist, bah.

Also, I think that Twilight's expanding fangirls base has been detrimental to the credibility of the book in itself. The idea that a book meant for "light reading" has been sensationally-acclaimed and tagged by some highly-appreciative people as "better than Rice!" and "the best vampire book they've ever read!" has caused raised eyebrows within the elite circle of intellectual readers. I mean, you can (and you should) NEVER compare Meyer's books with Anne Rice's. That would be scandalous.

In a way, Twilight reminds me of the Tagalog Precious Hearts Romance "Novels" my high school classmates used to ~~read~~ devour. Thus, it is a sappy, mushy, corny, and cheesy story for readers like me. Me, mE, ME. [Emphasis needed to highlight the concept of OPINION.]

But then again, we shouldn't expect ALL people to enjoy reading the likes of Hemingway, Golding, Thoreau, Hawthorne, or Tolstoy. We would always, ALWAYS have our own preferences. In as much that renowned novelists deserve respect for their books, we should also give Meyer the respect that she deserves.

Now, will you fangirls stop babbling about your Cullen obsession? It's been getting on everybody's nerves in case you haven't noticed.

I love six girls >:)

2008-11-22T14:27:00.005+08:00

And they are studying in Ateneo de Davao. One of them is a Philosophy major. Another is a Political Science student. And the other four are future Economists.

Last night, one of them celebrated her birthday. Even if she was born November 22.

I can't wait for our graduation. I'm counting that one of them would deliver our batch's valedictory address. Five of them would snatch either cum laude or magna cum laude. But I put my bets on the latter. What do I know, they might even get summa cum laude.

We've been together for four years. And those four years are all I need to compensate for all the things I've gone through way back in grade school and high school.

Four great years...

And counting. :)

Proper YM manners YOU ought to know

2008-10-05T18:49:00.002+08:00

1. Never add people whom you don’t have any intentions to talk with. DUH. It’s a waste of time, a waste of space, and a waste of memory for the Yahoo Messenger Application.

2. Stop whining if I haven’t accepted your invitation. Seriously, I don’t add people I don’t know in my YM. What do I know you’re just another lonely Arab looking for someone he can share his webcam fantasies with.

3. Do not PM people about irrelevant things if you see that their status icon is BUSY paired with a message that says THESIS/PROJECT/RESEARCH. Duh. Have some brains, will you?

4. Never start a conversation with a BUZZ especially if you are not friends with the person. By friends, I mean those people whom you have shared your worst moments with, those you can share one straw with, those who have smelled your fart more than five times, those whom you passed paper messages with about the unbearable burden of having a toenail-looking professor, those who know you PERSONALLY and those you consider your GOOD FRIEND. You get the picture. People who start conversations with a buzz are BASTOS. Nag-aral ka ba?

5. Say goodbye properly to someone you are talking with if you plan to log-out. I think this is rather self-explanatory. For goodness sake! You are not Kindergarten pupils!

To the Lit gods...

2008-09-10T13:23:00.007+08:00

There are crumpled papers on the wastebasket. Tattered pages scattered all over the floor. The pen waits. And I'm sitting here, staring blankly across space. The monotonous creaking of the ceiling fan are jumbled notes that adds up to the disheveled feel of my messy room.

The clock's hand completed its route for the seventy-seventh time. See? I've been counting. I've been waiting...

Waiting for the words to come.

I remember before, they would come to me on unearthly hours. Crooning me to sleep. Or sometimes, jerking me awake from the comforts of my slumber. Time and time again, they would wait until early dawn. When the spilt ink of the night sky streams back to the impalpable flask where it came from. Sometimes, they ride along the back of golden sunbeams and would come knocking on my window pane.

They've been doing that for fifteen summers. Where are they now?

I'm wondering...

Maybe they grew tired. They grew tired from our little trysts. Sudden trysts. Over cups of coffee and sprawled pillows. They grew tired of the rainy afternoons, boring Sundays, faked smiles, and teardrops. Maybe they are tired of being etched emotions. Mostly of frustrations and melancholy.

I'm still waiting...

Tell them I would change the color of my pillowcase. I would play happy tunes on my guitar. I would keep the windows open. I'll be waiting for them to come back. Tell them I'd be happy. Or at least, I'll try.

Tell them, I'll wait. Please.

Of Candles and Courage

2008-08-25T11:18:00.005+08:00

August 20-22, 2008
Senior's retreat
In St. Charles Borromeo Retreat House

This reading is taken from my journal notebook.

"As a child, I was trained to be happy and contented. Given stones or diamonds, both way, I'd be happy. I was taught to write all the things I like in a notebook. Then, I would crash out those things that I have lost liking to. Usually, at the end of the month, the pages of the notebook wold be tattered from all the scratching out and erasures. It was only now that I realized that my grandmother has taught me the notion of "dwindling marginal utility" way before my first Economics subject in college.

Yes, I grew up learning that virtue. Something only few people could ever learn and LIVE WITH. Learning that YOU CAN NEVER have all that you want. And that, you MUST NOT GET all that you want because there are a lot of people who NEED it more than you can WANT it.

Maybe I am just providing reasons for my laxity, but then again, maybe not. I cried while throwing away the "coins" for "excelling in school" because truth be known, I miss walking on the stage, receiving medals, and topping the class. I want to excel. But I am happy and contented with my grades. I know, I know. I do not lift a finger to study, I ~~cut~~ shred class, I'm freezing my eyebrows, and I'm living the Juan Tamad life, but I still get good grades. Maybe not the pre-defined "good" that my parents used to get. But it's not bad. And I'm happy with that. Until, of course, today.

I realized that, yes, I'm happy. But I CAN BE HAPPIER. There are things I want that I do not pursue. Actually, if I only WANT to DO SO, I can do EVERYTHING. It's just that, I'm afraid to take risks. Especially for myself.

I do not give myself the chance to be happier. Because I am scared.

Courage. I don't have it. And it's funny how I endured nineteen years of existence without having that up my sleeve. Or maybe, the safety and security that my family and friends provide me compensate for my lack of courage.

But then again, I realized that I have to make myself move. I have to learn how to be HAPPIER. I have to STEP OUT OF MY COMFORT ZONE. Because I know, even if I'm a foot away from them, they would always watch for me and help me stand up in case I trip on my own feet.

Fear is what hinders people in achieving their dreams. Fear of failing. Fear of not being good enough. There are those brave enough to chase after their ambitions, but some of them give up even before attaining their dreams. They stumble, they trip, they fall down. And then, they get scared of standing up again. Some are afraid of settling for less than what they wanted that's why they set the parameters that are easier to reach. They are scared to be "ambitious".

As I look at it, there are no such thing as "being ambitious". After all, it is normal to desire or want something. Dreams can be fulfilled. Dreams are meant to be fulfilled. As Kokoi puts it, dreams come to us. Stars fall. Maybe not now, but eventually, they will. All we have to do is wait patiently and be prepared to catch them when they fall.

Waiting for the stars to fall is not easy. The night is dark and the wind is cold. We have to fight back the fear so as to last until morning. We have to fill up our heart with courage. Like a dank room being lit up by one small candle.

Speaking of candles. Have you ever wondered why candles exist? Even with today's age of light bulbs and neon lights, there would always be candles for people. Isn't it amazing how a little candle could give a sense of comfort and warmth?

Seeing this room, with the lights turned off and candles scattered all across the floor, gives an unexplainable feeling of calmness and joy. I see Kim staring at the candle instead of writing. Maybe Justin is finished with his journal because he is playing with the candle. And as I look at my candle, candlewax sprawled over the rim of the glass and flames flickering against the dark, I knew.

We enjoy looking at candles because it reflects the gentleness of our souls. The meekness and humility of our spirit.

The candle melts not because it is on fire. But rather, because it holds the fire. It melts as it gives out light. It melts as it fulfills its purpose. A candle is not a candle if it would stay the same amidst burning throughout the night.

In its melting and giving of itself for the help of others, its value and essence is shown."

Thanks for reading, my precious candle. =)

Tide Eraser bar, Anyone?

2008-08-06T03:14:00.005+08:00

I am soooo rusty. What have I been doing for the past 6 months? Shocks. this blog has been deserted for months. My feature-writing skills needs honing. I don't debate anymore. I'm SHREDDING classes. And I sleep late! WHAT HAVE I BEEN DOING?

Oh well. At least I can still play DOTA and Wendy is still alive.

But then again, WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?

TIDE ERASER BAR!

SCRUB ME! SCRUB ME! SCRUB ME ANYONE! And my soul is yours.

Isang Power Bomb lang pala ang katapat nun...

2008-05-18T04:24:00.000+08:00

Lessons in New Jersey

Hay...

Isang libong beses na akong bumubuntong-hininga
kasabay sa bawat impit na
tinig ng gitarang hindi pa natotono.

Ang gitarang nakasilid sa gusgusing kaha
na siyang nakasandig sa bintanang salamin ng silid
kung saan ko pinakawalan ang aking unang buntong-hininga para sayo.

Ang buntong-hininga na dati'y naguudyok sa mga
hindi nahahagkang paru-paro na magsayawan sa aking sikmura.
Mga paru-parong ngayo'y nagwawala na.

Nagwawala. Mawawala
sa oras na ihikbi ko ang huli kong buntong-hininga
para sayo.

"Swimming against the current is a piece of cake."

2008-04-10T16:06:00.003+08:00

For my sister that is.

She is now officially looking for her place in the world. She bade goodbye to high school last month and is currently course hunting for college. She's been pestering (hehe) me with her probable courses since January. Which course to choose? I taught her the steps in knowing your ideal course. Knowing your Interests and Strengths. She despises Accountancy and Nursing to the bones, for reasons I do not know myself. She says that those are the "courses ng bayan" but I have this inkling that she hates those because her classmates would be enrolling on the said programs. And trust me, the I-dont-want-to-be-part-of-the-crowd attitude runs in our blood.

She hates English but she's sooooooo good in Filipino (as if it matters). She likes computers and MONEY. We drafted her chosen courses, gradually crashing some until we ended with Information Technology and Agriculture.

And since we're looking for practical (and money-inducing programs), we placed our bets on Agriculture. It has been neglected for some years now, but it still remains as one of the most profitable industry there is. Like duh. Philippines is topographically destined to be agriculture-friendly.

I really thought that we are finished with the course-hunting business until TODAY. Lo and behold, she texted me again. And here is how our conversation went:

HER: Kaka Mot, maganda ba ang course na BS Chem? Kasi sabi ng tito ni Auntie Liza maganda daw yun. KONTI LANG ANG KUMUKUHA. Alam mo yung Liguasan Marsh? Kasi sa oras daw na mahukay yung oil dun, mga chemists ang makikinabang. And kasi diba Agri man ang course ko, parang pareho din dun kasi mag-Agri Chem man ako. Ano man? Maganda ang BS Chem?

HUH!? Agri chem!? Where did that come from?

ME: AGRI CHEM na lang kunin mo kesa BS Chem. Oo, Chemists ang makikinabang kung mahukay ang Liguasan Marsh. Eh ang tanong, KELAN NAMAN KAYA MAHUHUKAY YUN? Baka uugod-ugod ka na pag nangyari yun. Isa pa, mahirap kunin ang Chem kasi walang sure na trabaho. Ikaw? Gusto mo ba MAGTURO ng chem sa mga highschoool? Kung agri kunin mo, mas maraming opportunities. maganda ang chem kung LALAKE ka. Kasi hindi tumatanggap ang mga pabrika ng babae na chemists. Mahirap talaga sya. Agri chem na lang at least, sure shot na yun. MAPAKINABANGAN MO PA ANG LUPA NATIN. Yan ang advice ko pero nsa sayo ang desisyon. *evil smile*

HER: Bakit, ano ang lamang ng Agri Chem sa BS Chem?

ME: Ang Chem, STRICTLY ABOUT CHEMISTRY YAN. Ang AGRI CHEM, about agricultural production. ung pagprocess ng raw food into food products. Chemistry at Bio na pinaghalo. Ang genetics, yan ung maghalo ka ng seeds para makabuo ng bagong breed. Alam mo ung hybrid na mais? yan ung produkto ng magagaling na agri geneticists. Ang hybrid na mais ay di tulad ng ordinary mais na madali lang mapeste. Sa genetics, magexperiment ka at maghalo-halo ng mga breed ng tanim. Okay yun. Scientist ang dating. Teka, bakit napasok ang Chem? Magaling ka daw ba sa Chem? hehe...

HER: Ewan ko. Mas mahusay ako sa math. PROMISE. Lahat ng exam ko, Math ang mas mataas. Kaso nabobored ako sa math. Wala akong interes. Hehe. Anong mas maganda, Chem o Genetics? Parang mas trip ko ang Genetics. hehe. May Genetics ba ang Chem? Kasi kung meron, yun na lang kunin ko.

ME: Actually men, hindi ko alam. hehehe.. Tingnan mo sa prospectus ng Agri Chem kung may Genetics. O kaya magtanong ka mismo sa USM. Langya ka! Mukha ba akong Agriculturist!?

HER: Parang cool pakinggan yung Genetics eh.

ME: Ikaw bahala. hehe. Tingin ko rin okay yung genetics. Pero mahirap Yun. Kasi ang thesis nyo, itry mo ung seeds na ginaawa mo. Itanim mo sila tapos dapat okay ang kinalabasan. hehe.. Ay tama! mag AGRICULTURAL ENGINEERING KA NA LANG! MAGALING KA MAN KAYA SA MATH! Yan baya ang course ni Papang.

HER: Kaka mot, makabored ba yan? Walang practicum? Gusto ko kasi yung maraming practicum, yung nagatravel or yung parang genetics, hehe. Alam mo naman ako, ayokong nagdurusa ang mga brain cells ko dahil lamang sa mga gurong hindi marunong magturo. Marami bang opportunities ang Agri Genetics?

ME: Maganda ang Agri Eng. hehe. Math! Alam mo, mainis ka lang sa practicum kasi ang practicum ng agri, based on nature. Lalo na at uso ang climate change ngayon, maiinis ka lang kasi ine-expect mong umaraw tapos biglang uulan. Mas practical ang wala masyadong practicum. :) Pwede ba! Pumunta ka na lang ng USM at dun ka magtanong. Adik ka. hehe.. Bakit ba kasi hindi ka na lang mag-Nursing. Ahahahahaha!

HER: Tse! Wag na noh. O siya, siya. Tama na ang text. wala na akong load pangreply sa Chikka mo! Magpaload ka nga para hindi maubos ang load ko!

ME: Ikaw ang may kailangan, ikaw ang magtiis! Bleh! Hahaha! Labyu men! :p

Migawd! GENETICS? CHEMISTRY? MATH?

SHE IS CRAZY.

We're standing on the opposite ends of a pole.

I wonder why I love her still. Haha!

Of the movie Unfaithful, marriage, and them anti-feminists

2008-03-14T16:01:00.009+08:00

Yadda-yadda. My brain is temporarily fogged and I'm not in the mood to write. But since I need to update my blogger, I copied and pasted this from my Theology reaction paper. The post may seem too pro-marriage and sacrosanct; but it isn't. (It's a Theo paper. Bear with me) It's a rant, anyway. And that means, you can rant back. Cheers to opinions. :)

Infidelity is an issue too common to be side-swept even in a relatively liberal country like the United States of America, more so in a comparatively conservative nation like the Philippines. The movie Unfaithful talks about infidelity in an otherwise perfect marriage. Contrary to the usual scene of a man having illicit affairs with other women, the tables had turned and the movie tells a story of a woman who had been unfaithful to her husband. This change of situation created a ruckus in the mainstream movie industry; thus, catapulting the movie into the box-office charts.

Even if the context is on liberal USA, the situation of a woman sneaking up against her husband is deemed antagonistic in nature. Through a feminist lens, we see that people, even in liberal countries, make it to a point that any infidelity centered on the work of a woman is worse than that of a man’s. If the United States finds this situation tricky and insulting, how much more would it be if put into the Philippine context?

As stated on Article 97, Title IV on Legal Separation of Republic Act 386, otherwise known as An Act to Ordain and Institute the Civil Code of the Philippines, any woman who is suspected, accused, or proven of sleeping with another man aside from her husband, is committing the act of adultery. Whereas, if a man, even if he is having affairs or is financially-supporting a mistress, is not to be accused of adultery, but of concubinage, if and only if, he is proven to cohabitate with the said other woman. This law in itself shows the inequity and unfairness in disseminating justice as opposed to gender diversity, may it be moral or otherwise.

I do not concede with the notion of infidelity. I believe that it is immoral, by virtue of the Church. However, the fact that society oftentimes expands the whole issue through feminization of sins makes the law of the state and the virtue of the Church run on great risk. The usual situation goes like this: if a woman gets involved in illicit affairs, she is antagonized on two levels. One, by the society, as society has this stereotype of a “bad woman” as someone who doesn’t get contented with her life and her loving husband that’s why she goes out with other men. Society takes it as a big blow on a man’s pride if his wife is unfaithful to him. Two, the woman is alienated by the law as law provides mere suspicion as a premise of an argument for adultery. On the other side of the coin, affairs by men aren’t considered out of the norms as it usually adds up to the machismo of every male being.

In this alone, you see the discrimination given to women. I do not say that women should commit adultery as men are subconsciously permitted by law and society to do such. What I want to happen, is for BOTH men and women to keep from committing adultery. Providing equity for both sexes does not require raising the bar of expected aggravation to the same level, but rather putting down an established domineering control over the other gender.

In the movie, it came into my thinking that divorce, or annulment (in the Philippine context) would have been a better way for the husband to deal with the situation rather than kill his wife’s lover. At least, divorce is by far of less weight than homicide. Yes, I do know that divorce is not allowed in the Church. But so does infidelity.

Which begs the question, why is there a need for divorce and annulment if infidelity is non-existent? I believe that before people start weighing the pros and cons of nullifying the virtue and sacrament of marriage through annulment, they should at least be sure that they are free of infidelity.

Infidelity is something that does not exist in a vacuum. It should not take its form depending on race, gender, or age. Infidelity demands justice. Justice that is to be served regardless of any categorization. After all, marriage is sacred. It should not be tampered or tarnished on its stages, may it be early or late. It should not be tampered at all.

---

Gawd. I can be too saintly if I want to. Haha! Anyway, the semester is over so I think it would be safe to say that I do not really believe in the notion of marriage. Ahaha! I do not see myself happily married someday. I wonder why people see marriage as a be-all-and-all concept. It's as if ending up as a spinster is the worst thing there is. Mygedness. Swim against the 'effing traditionalist current, losers.

10 ways to scare a Korean

2008-02-25T16:34:00.002+08:00

Last night, me and my cousin Adeng (the devil in its purest form) decided to hang/pig out. We wasted at least 200 pesos for mere transportation from ADDU to Matina, to shrine hills, back to Matina, and finally back home. 50Php per ride. If you wonder how we ended up wasting huge sums of cash, that is because I cannot stop my cousin from riding air-conditioned taxis. She said that she's conditioned to do such things. She's the one paying for the fare so I just let her be HER. Haha!

The Petrifier and The Modifier

Moving on, we ended at Taboan on MTS for dinner. The place was relatively deserted save from a pack of male Koreans. A pack of noisy male Koreans. Blame hunger (or our distraught minds and nature), because we tried to take our ethnocentrism yardstick a notch higher than usual. And YOU know that ethnocentrism often works in a zero-sum way: love for own country is tantamount to non-love for a foreign country.

Everything is going well for the first few minutes, the Koreans happily conversing/babbling/guffawing in their own native tongues while me and my cousin laughing dementedly as we enumerated reasons why Korea is not a good place to live in. Everything goes in the spirit of PURE, INNOCENT FUN. (hehe..)

Until, two other Koreans came and sat in the table near us. Amidst the loud music, I hear the squeaking of the monobloc chair and the one degree per second changing of direction of the two newcomers. I nudged my cousin and warned her about the incoming catastrophe. And sure does, one of them asked if they can sit with us.

To cut the story short, my cousin and me survived the encounter. I think that my grammar is still okay (i wish, i wish, i wish) and that I can still construct a good sentence. We didn't give our two new friends a hard time, any way. In fact, we are very accommodating and friendly AND diplomatic. We even waved them goodbye (with our tongues wagging and our laughter a pitch higher.. KIDDING) when we took the cab home.

After the remarkable experience, we decided that it would be better if we know how to control the situation, granting that it would happen to us again. Getting distracted is probably one of the worst things that can happen to you, especially if you are in the middle of doing something you're really really interested at (like boosting your nationalistic side).

For that, I share to you ten fool-proof ways to scare Koreans (if you DON'T want to get distracted) so that they may leave you (and your language) in peace.

1. Tell them that you live in the mountains.
2. And that you have a battered panda for a pet.
3. Use the words apparently, juxtapose, compartmentalized, and paramount.
4. Use the words apparently, juxtapose, compartmentalized, and paramount... IN ONE SENTENCE.
5. Say that you're from a military school.
6. But they kicked you out because of your turbulent behavior. (Tips: say this in a matter-of-fact fashion. You can even add "well, that's how life is" accompanied with your sweetest smile.)
7. Tell them that one of your MOST REVERED ancestors went to Korea during 1890's.
8. Introduce your ancestor as Lieutenant General Miura Goro of the Imperial Japanese Army. (Tips: laugh like a demented hyena after saying this)
9. Tell them you have a basement full of flesh-eating plants...
10. And that Charice Pempengco has lost her way there.

PS. All things written here are based on my reality and is created for the spirit of pure innocent fun. Don't take things seriously. If you can't get away with your judgment, better yet create your own blog post. Besides, WHO TOLD YOU TO BE HERE? =)

At dahil Buwan ng Mga Puso...

2008-02-11T15:25:00.001+08:00

Para ito sa mga nagmahal, nagmamahal, magmamahal pa. Para sa lumuha at lumuluha. Para sa naiwan at nang-iwan. Para kay Ninay. At kay Jrr.)
Apat na buwan at mga patak ng luha

Four months
After I first saw you.
You, with your goofy smile.
You, standing near the counter
of the convenience store.
Looking at me with curious eyes.
I knew right there and then.
I had fallen.

It was four months
of sweet company.
I, waking up early so I would
be the first one to greet you
good morning.
I, walking with you home.
Funny.
I don't really like waking up early
and walking.
But I like doing them for you.

Four months
happened unlike any other
stories I've known.
My memories are filled of you
and me
watching mounds of dvd,
sharing jokes only the
two us find funny,
pinching your arms, squeezing your hand.
Even without constant reminders
And even if w don't look like lovers,
We know.
We love.

Four months
of being with you.
I feel nothing of those feelings
romance novels narrate.
No fast heartbeats, no tingling sensation everytime we touch,
no green-eyed moments.
No euphoria.
Just happy. Contented.
REAL. Alive.

Four months.
A complete season.
You ask me about a song you like.
I sing them for you, and
you smile broadly.
Our pen and paper sketches
remind me how our lives touched.
Not like knots tied tightly together,
but like the steady trace of ink
on paper.
Lightly,
but permanently etched.

For a quarter of a year,
I haven't realized
that I loved like I never had before.
Love without realizing it
until it hurts.
It scars.

I don't want to.
But I need to.
I need to fight the urge of talking to you.
Stop before I retrace my steps back to you.

Four months are over.
I feel my heart losing its pace.
You look at me
Through misty eyes.

You're so beautiful it's so hard to say goodbye.

Amen. I'm Alive.

2008-02-05T16:56:00.000+08:00

Note: I don't really intend to blog until this weekend, but then again, it would take a lot of will power if I would want to save what I'm feeling right now for three more days or so. I'll write this without thinking about the words. Straight to the point. No sugar-coated lies. This may be my most sincere post yet.

A while ago, while browsing through YouTube, I tried searching for videos of artists I had developed a liking to. And after an hour of watching numbers of vids, I got stuck with Nickelback's If Everyone Cared MV.

The song hit me. Hard. I didn't even realize that I'm already crying. Have you already experienced the feeling wherein you feel as if a clamp is gripping your heart? Squeezing it until you can't breath. And then, tears would instantaneously well up in your eyes. That's exactly how I can put into words what I felt. Guilt. Funny, eh? Even if I know that I haven't done something wrong. I feel like I am directly involved in what is happening with the world today.

Do you know that Kenya is currently on the verge of civil war? If the clash between Odinga and Kibaki’s controversial presidential election issue continues, there is a huge propensity that Kenya would be hosting the next massive genocide in Africa after the incident in Rwanda on 1994. Congo, by far, still holds the record for the most cases of sexual violence in the world. The prevalence of tribal wars is growing. It's a new hype. Ethiopia is infested with nothing except poverty and flies. All these have happened, are happening, and will continue to happen in Africa.

Africa. AGAIN. I know that a lot of people get irritated with the Africa issue. I can’t blame them. I felt that way before.

Before, I thought that large part of Africa is home to wild animals. I thought that the savannahs are rarely visited by people. This is what those encyclopedias and books taught me. Until today. Now, I know that Africa is not just a continent with beautiful safaris, it’s a large puzzle; divided by ethnicity, politics, government, and class.

Sometimes, I feel that I want to go back in time. Back when I was a child. Wherein, my notion of the world is perfect. Wherein I thought that the San can live and drink by digging holes on the ground. Wherein I thought that Africans really have ostriches for pets. A time when a wild lion is the greatest threat a tribesman can encounter.

Sometimes, with all the realizations and realistic concepts plaguing our mind, we forget to imagine and to believe.

I remember the time when I questioned the feasibility of the Millennium Development Goals of the United Nations. I came close to thinking that it's irrationally impossible.

And as always, I realized at the end of the day that, oftentimes, it was after all reality which coerces people to be idealistic. The nature of idealism is to promulgate and spread the seeds of optimism to everyone.

"Ambitious but possible."

Indeed. Maybe, as long as there are people who are NOT AFRAID TO CARE. As long as there are people who get inspired and do their own little share.
---

Anyway, I got this from Ate Ychel. A wish for you in 2008.

My Wish for You in 2008

May peace break into your house and may thieves
come to steal your debts. May the pockets of your jeans become a magnet of $100
bills. May love stick to your face like Vaseline and may laughter assault your
lips! May your clothes smell of success like smoking tires! May happiness slap
you across the face and may your tears be that of joy. May the problems you had
forget your home address! In simple words… May 2008 be the best year of your
life!

I wish all of us, a clean heart. A clean life. May we all be blessed. Regardless of culture, class, color, or race. May we be better in whatever we do. And may we all remember that we haven't lost that thing which we thought we have lost long ago. What do you call it, again? Ah right.

CONSCIENCE.

Withdrawal Symptoms

2008-02-03T02:24:00.000+08:00

You know those withdrawal symptoms, right? Sad to say, I find it extremely difficult to write something light and informative. I suddenly found it difficult to FEATURE write. The kind of writing I grew up with. The spectrum of my writing capability is now stretched to its farthest extent, which only leaves two probably options: technical and literal.

Granting that our teachers feed us with blunt conceptual theories, I can’t blame me for developing a hunger on epistaxis-inducing words. To add, me trying to get away from technical writing equates to extreme rhetoric. It’s either, talk in the futuristic language or use the words powdered all over the shelf of great literary names.

As for this blog, I realized that my fascination with my capability to procrastinate is not leading me anywhere. I ditched the idea of a profit-oriented blog twenty minutes ago. I recognized that the reason why I started blogging is to open up an avenue for me and my endless opinions. After all, the premise of blogging tackles about self expression.

And so, with this in mind, I’ll do my best to update my blog and my thoughts. We have to keep the rust away. As for the usage of the allocated space, there’s this poem I thought of last week. Random ideas after I saw a couple of girls teaching a Badjao Kid to smoke. Feel free to critique it. :)

Cancer Stick

I could keep that memory
forever.
Uneven wisps of smoke
billowing from the thin stick of death
she twirled around her lively fingers.

Persuaded and unarmed,
she puffed her first.
I watch her struggle; holding her breath
and letting the white gas escape from her
pretty mouth.

Desolate and not used to it,
she wrinkled her nose
but still...
the spirit of nicotine entering
her pallid nerves.

I laughed.
Amused
with her innocence.
"Go on! Another try."
Her eyes welled with doubt
but she presses the cancer stick
back to her lips.

How does it feel?
To be
in between her fingers?
Suffocated with her
lovely lips,
engulfed with
her every breath.

There, there.
She's puffing up o's in the air
(I can see she's not trying hard)

I got her addicted,
hooked on cigarettes

But not on me.

Toss the Feathers

2008-01-14T07:37:00.000+08:00

Last night, my dormmate (and crazy friend) Lalaine asked me to help her out in her Lit class. We have to work out on a short story (like those of Hills Like White Elephants) about something which includes dialog between characters, little narration, and hanging endings. After hours of revising and thesaurus-checks, we ended up with this. :)

Toss the Feathers

It was near dusk. The sun hid behind the steel-gray clouds. Thunder roared from miles away, promising a turbulent night ahead. The darkening sky met with the rice fields far on the horizon. A road snaked its way through the sea of rice stalks swaying with the wind. A van scampered timidly along the road as the last light of day left the earth.

Amidst the rattling of the vehicle, a girl remained sound asleep inside the car. Her hair, tangled on intricate webs and her body, fragile. She sat in a distorted manner, one foot clipped to her side and the other foot dangling on the side of her seat. Her head bobbing rhythmically to the bumps the car take on each curve.

Beside her, another girl – probably a year younger – jerked awake from her slumber. She looked at her sleeping friend and smiled.

“She fell asleep too. I'm surprised. She talked to me as if we're close friends during high school.”

The frail girl seemed to hear her. She raised her head and looked outside the window. It was starting to drizzle. The raindrops nestled like needles on the glass windows.

“What time is it?” the frail girl asked.
“Time to buy your own watch.”
“Har har. Very funny. Seriously, we've been traveling for ages. I saw rice fields before I fell asleep. And now, still more rice fields.”
“Funny hearing that from you. You were talking before you fell asleep, and now, you've been awake for just a minute and then you start talking again.”
“I don't talk that much. You know that.”
“Exactly. That's why I'm letting you talk as long as you want.”

The frail girl looked at her and then she slumped down on her seat. Silence.

She looked outside the windows again. The drizzle has stopped and the outline of the moon can be seen from behind the clouds. The moon sailed soulfully away from the mass of lumpy clouds. A blurred plate hanging from the windows of heaven.

“The moon is bleeding.” the frail girl muttered.
The younger girl looked at her. “I think it's beautiful. Rarely would you see a moon in red tinge.”
“I don't want to see the moon in red. It brings a lot of melancholic memories.” She looked at her friend, “You want to hear why?”
“Err... Well...”
“Okay, it doesn't matter, I'll tell it to you anyway...”

The younger girl laughed. She then reached out for her bag and started looking for something.

The frail girl kept talking to herself.
“... back when I was sixteen, I enjoy looking at the night sky. Actually, even before that. When I was little, I've always loved astronomy...”

She found what she was looking for: a pair of earphones.

“... my dad taught me about astronomy and mythology... I really liked the moon above all. It's something special. I like the way it glows... it reminds me of faked emotions. Like a lady smiling even if she really feels like crying... The moon is very mysterious.”
“Err.. okay. Uh, you won't mind it if I listen to my player would you?” the other girl asked.
“Yeah...”

The younger girl switched on her player and the music flowed out her ears. She adjusted the volume so she'd still be able to hear her friend.

“we're not that close back in high school, noh? Well, I don't really like high school... I can't wait for college actually... and I think college didn't disappoint me... or so I think... but before that, let me tell you about my close circle of friends...”
“Sure, sure. Go on.”
“...we're close friends... well, we didn't really started out that close... it just started one night, when the moon was red, like tonight... we were one of the youngest people in class... both of us, still sixteen... we share a lot of commonalities... smart-alecks, too proud for their own good, etcetera... it's no surprise to see us together... so, it all started during a program in school... it ended late... the moon is unusually red... for the first time, I didn't feel problematic... we were walking on the grounds when we saw the moon... and then, we stopped walking... we just stared at it for a long time... that night, when I came home, I thought about her... on how God must have planned out everything to happen... she did not fail me as a friend... she was the first one who appreciated me... I know that I have a lot of flaws, but she shook it aside and loved me as me... cliche-ic you might think, but that is really how it is...”

Silence.

“Ah, so why do you fell melancholic now?”

Hush. More silence.

“I guess, the best things really don't last long...”

She stared at the confused look on the younger girl's face then looked out the window again to see the now-faint-colored moon being engulfed by the gray clouds around it.

LORD. Ain't this funny?

2008-01-10T15:34:00.000+08:00

We watched Lord of War for our Readings in Asia class. I've watched this before but I haven't finished it till the end. Luckily, ma'am tetch scheduled us to watch this. And lucky you, IMDB has a copy of the script.

Good film. Funny. In a VERY intelligent way.

This is probably the first (and best) film about war. Satirical and realistic at the same time. Not violent, but VERY moving.

And since I celebrate the existence of brains in the world, I looked up some of its best lines. Here's to wit, ~~irrelevant diplomacy, impaired politics,~~ and war. (You can crash out the last if you want)

---
The first and most important rule of gun-running is: Never get shot with your own merchandise.
---
Anatoly Orlov: Is this how you want to be remembered?
Yuri Orlov: I don't want to be remembered at all. That means I'm dead.
---
I sell to leftists, and rightists. I sell to pacifists, but they're not the most regular customers.
---
Vitaly Orlov: [in Russian] Oh God!
Yuri Orlov: [voice-over] Always resort to your native tongue in times of anger. And in times of ecstasy.
---
They say, "Evil prevails when good men fail to act." What they ought to say is, "Evil prevails."
---
Every faction in Africa calls themselves by these noble names - Liberation this, Patriotic that, Democratic Republic of something-or-other... I guess they can't own up to what they usually are: a federation of worse oppressors than the last bunch of oppressors. Often, the most barbaric atrocities occur when both combatants proclaim themselves freedom-fighters.
---
Back then, I didn't sell to Osama Bin Laden. Not because of moral reasons, but because he was always bouncing checks.
---
I sell guns to every army but the Salvation Army.
---
Borneo Officer: We're with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms.
Yuri Orlov: Let me guess... this isn't about the alcohol or tobacco.
---
I had a flair for languages. But I soon discovered that what talks best is dollars, dinars, drachmas, rubles, rupees and pounds fucking sterling.
---
After the Cold War, the AK-47 became Russia's biggest export. After that came vodka, caviar, and suicidal novelists.
---
Where there's a will, there's a weapon.
---
You know who's going to inherit the Earth? Arms dealers. Because everyone else is too busy killing each other. That's the secret to survival. Never go to war. Especially with yourself.

Seriously, I can't get over the thought of me being a gun-smuggler after watching this. Muwahaha! (To think that my course intends to me to practice diplomacy)

Something Real

2008-01-03T13:20:00.000+08:00

O ye, 2008 it is. HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

I've been lost in the airwaves. I've spent my "vacation" far from civilization. Haha. Seriously, here are the proofs.

My braincells are still wandering. The fireworks must have took them. I'm still badgering my classmates to hand their reports and articles for Sinabawang Gulay. But for now, I would like to acknowledge (again) the genius that is Meg and Dia.

They make their music from:
~ 18th century literature
~ social issues (drugs, liberalism on youth, etc)
~ life and love experiences

Contrary to popular love-inspired songs, their music isn't about mushy cliche-ic love stories. Some songs included in their album tackle about different topics.

Cardigan Weather - vengeance for infidelity
Courage, Robert - a song for the pianist/composer Robert Schumann
Getaways Turned Holidays - about parents who stay together for their kids
How Much - about destructive relationships
I'll Find Mine - a COOL break-up song
Joey Had A Smoke - an interesting song about the nativity scene
Just One of Those Things - about someone who doesn't want to leave (a relationship, person, etc) but he/she has to
Masterpiece - rape, incest, pedophilia
Nineteen Stars - suicide, depression (POV of someone close to the suicidal person)
Roses - youth and drugs
Santa Barbara - suicide, depression (POV of a suicidal person)
Strawberry Waltz - infidelity
Yellow Butterfly - for a mother who lost a child

Songs based from Books:
Indiana - based from George Sand's Indiana
Monster - based from John Steinbeck's East of Eden
Rebecca - based from Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca
Setting Up Sunday - based from J. D. Salinger's Catcher in the Rye
Tell Mary - based from a book entitled Mary

And just today, I learned something about their song My Baby's Better Than Yours. Contrary to the title, the song is about war. This was taken from an interview with Dia:

"Meg and I have always had this really negative outlook on war. Of course, we've never been, or fought in an actual war, but we've both read extensive novels on war. (Some of my favorites remain, "Things Fall Apart," and "The Red Badge of Courage," and "A Farewell to Arms.") Killing another person, even in war, has always been a terrible thought to me. War, in my opinion, is like an organized massacre. I always think about the other side... they're just like you and me. Good people fighting against good people for something that isn't worth it. Nothing is worth innocent blood...is it? I don't want to get to politics, because I still have so much to learn about politics and war, but that's just how we feel now."

You might as well listen to the song and read its lyrics.

Some say suffering's not much
But I say...
We make sure to know
We know a lot of who we're killing

We fell apart
We all fell apart
Underestimate what it means to me
We fell apart
We all fell apart
Underestimate what it means to me

We're all different right?
(We're all different right)

Age is one, other side, different lines,
Different roles,
Different rules to abide by,
And all these lines self divide to races of men,
Cause we're all different right?

We fell apart
We all fell apart
Underestimate what it means to me
We fell apart
We all fell apart
Underestimate what it means to me

We're all different right?
(We're all different right)

Step over,
Step over that clever line,
Gotta figure out which side is right,
Choose a destiny to live by
If you wanna live or die or fight
And only one side wins
And what I think of this I don't know
It's not that I'm afraid of dying,
It's just, I'm so afraid to live

Some say that clevers as they come.
But I say,
We slowly learn to bite upon the sun
Perfect's finally gone and

We fell apart
We all fell apart
Underestimate what it means to me
We fell apart
We all fell apart
Underestimate what it means to me

We're all different right?
(We're all different right)

Step over,
Step over that clever line,
Gotta figure out which side is right,
Choose a destiny to live by
If you wanna live or die or fight
And only one side wins
And what I think of this I don't know
It's not that I'm afraid of dying,
It's just, I'm so afraid to live

Hate is what fuels our wars and bloody lips.
Don't listen to love.
But I can sing songs
And I can sing about how I know
I know that this is wrong

Step over,
Step over that clever line,
Gotta figure out which side is right, Choose a destiny to live by
If you wanna live or die or fight
And only one side wins
And what I think of this I don't know
It's not that I'm afraid of dying,
It's just, I'm so afraid to live

Some say suffering's not much
But I say...

Makulay ang Buhay sa Sinabawang Gulay

2007-12-19T21:08:00.000+08:00

My ears are deaf from all the things I hear. So now, I.AM.GOING.TO.CLARIFY.THINGS.UP.

Contrary to popular belief, the International Studies Program of the Ateneo De Davao University is not created to gather girls with rebonded hair wearing skinny jeans and aviator glasses. If you are currently an International Studies Student who wishes to end up as a flight attendant, you might as well get out of this program and enroll in Samson Technical School. International Studies do NOT include learning how to put make-up on, learning to mix and match outfits for wash day, and talking in intolerable coño pseudo-english.

This course is supposedly instigated to guide the future "diplomats" and those aspiring to be such. In International Studies, you are supposed to amalgamate the teachings of Political Science, Economics, Anthropology and Philosophy.

An International Studies Student should at least know who is Homi Bhabha, Saparmurad Niyazov, and Jacques Derrida. Or at least, you must be able to bluff your way from teachers who caught you off-guard in a recitation. An International Studies Student should at least know that Kurdistan does not exist in the map, that John Adams and John QUINCY Adams are NOT the same person, ~~that the teachers of the Ateneo IS Program are NOT supposed to teach International Studies,~~ and that Benito Mussolini is not a type of pasta.

The blog Sinabawang Gulay para sa Batang Bingi is an avenue of sharing the wonderful world of International Relations to you, lucky people. The site is primarily monitored by ME, so I might as well note about the history of this program as it occurred to me.

On June 2006, an unknown deadly virus, (later referred as the CHANILLIONES virus) surfaced in the program. It caused a sudden increase of mortality rate in the students. From SIXTY-plus, a total of NOT more than twenty-five students were left. However, a vaccine named SKUB1DU eliminated the virus from the IS system. Thus, regaining stability on the population of the new International Studies Students.

Today, the students of the International Studies Program are still struggling to segregate their name from usual stereotyping (i.e. only kikay girls and homosexual boys are enrolling in this course).

AGAIN, the site is created for the convenience of International Studies Students (hehe). More accurately, it would tackle about all concepts related to International Studies from the eyes of class '09. HA HA HA.

Comments? Suggestions? Violent Reactions? Please call 1-908-GETALIFE. This post is SOLELY based on MY (repeat MY) opinion. Not yours, not hers, not anyone else's. So in case you want to rant your way to sanity, the comment box is created for your convenience. :)

Do You Hear What I Hear?

2007-12-16T23:26:00.000+08:00

This week is a jambalaya of events. Positive and Negative Energies.

Negative:
~ My problem with my barkada is not yet solved. And I think it will be that way forever. It pains me that our two and a half year samahan is going to waste. However, one should never keep broken glasses. You'll only get wounded in the end. Nevertheless, I will forever treasure the moments I've had with them. They once took up a huge part of me. And they will always will.
~ I've had a bunch of freaky dreams. I searched their meanings on http://dreammoods.com and I found that they are indeed connected with the current events in my life. Such freaky dreams include being trapped between a guerrilla and army war, the sight of dead bodies on stalls, guns, blood and needles, and the pungent smell of blood mixed with rainwater.
~ I just learned that I have an invisible entity (a.k.a. twin). Ate Marj vindicated this idea when she saw a girl inside my room two nights ago. She thought that it's ME, but then she remembered that I'm in the living room busy swooning over Jun Matsumoto. The "girl" is supposedly a doppelganger. Two theories came up. One, the influx of negative energy (my depression moments and sad aura) conjured huge amounts of negativity in my room, thus creating the said "girl". Two, it's an entity which decided to imitate my face for the fun of it. HOWEVER, during my talks with Ate Marj (who herself has a twin), I found out that the "girl" is not a mere doppelganger, but a spiritual entity which is deemed to be my twin forever (think of the daemon in The Golden Compass). I often had experiences wherein most people mistook me for the "girl". Too many experiences. Anyway, I'm finally okay with the thought of it. I was then advised not too TALK TO HER (which I really want to do) because she might feed on my weakness and become strong, and may replace the physical me. Oh well. Another set of rules. *rolls eyes*

Whew. Bad things, Nevertheless, the scale should be balanced.

Positive:
~ The AWITENISTA 2008 preliminaries is successful! Weee! There are far too many BEAUTIFUL songs this year that's why we have to stretch the 15-song limit to 20. Congratulations for those who made it. For those who didn't, there is still next year. Keep your fingers crossed and watch for the AWITENISTA '08 Finals Night this February. :)
~ We've had our Dorm Christmas party last night. We had lots of food, lots of fun, and lots of noise. Haha! I gave Ate Marj a cross stitch set. She-she had me for her manita. Haha! I love her. She gave me a cool blue bag and *drumrolls* A WASTEBASKET! Wee! I don't have a wastebasket for my room, and that's why I'm all thank yous for her thoughtful present. :)
~ Tina is the way to go! I want to thank her for the chance she gave me. Hehe. If it's not for her, I won't be at the Adobe Photoshop Seminar with the renowned Photoshop-er Ted Padova. Haha. It was a remarkable experience. The food, certificate, pictures, and the one-on-one talk with Mr. Padova for 250 pesos! Tsk. Am I lucky or what?
~ Aaaaaaaaaaand, (again, thanks Tina), I would want to plug my new blog. It's a review /ranting blog. About my sentiments on the field of INTERNATIONAL STUDIES. (ORAYT!). It's the random ramblings of a going-deaf child. Yes, I DO think I'm audio-impaired. At times, we need to take special cases for the disabled. See the blind, hear the deaf, and speak to the mute. Click, click, click. http://sinabawanggulay.blogspot.com/

I used to hate vegetables. But not anymore. I used to have clear hearing. Not anymore. I used to be cynical on everything. And I think it will stay that way forevermore. Haha!

Contrary to the Tagalog url, it's in English. PREPARE FOR EPISTAXIS!

Have a jolly week ahead, everyone. :)

Seven TRUTHS

2007-12-09T00:21:00.000+08:00

Tagged by Ate Ami. So now, I have to share seven facts about my extremely dorky life. Ha ha.

1. Maybe it's because of sheer laziness, but I always end up scribbling/writing on my palms. May it be the assignment for the week or a new friend's number. That's probably the reason why I tend to snooze in class. My brain is ultimately ink-blotted.

2. I talk. A LOT. I talk in tongues. I talk in riddles. I talk to ANYBODY. ANYTHING. NAME IT. Walls, shadows, animals, balloons, monobloc chairs, guitars, myself.

3. I can control my dreams. When having nightmares, I can force myself to wake up.
I can even make my mind go blank when I do not like the part of the dream. In other words, I can make the conscious and subconscious part of my brain work at the same time.

4. I totally abhor worms. I am not afraid of FROGS, ROACHES, RATS, SNAKES, LIZARDS, and SPIDERS. But I really, really, really, REALLY don't like worms. Thinking about them gives me goosebumps! *brr*

5. The rain FASCINATES me. Maybe I'm part-frog because I love it when it rains. I feel better when it's raining than when it's not. I can do somersaults, count the raindrops, do poetry, strum my guitar, create a painting, blog FOREEEEEVAAAH!

6. If thinking can make you rich, I'll probably be the wealthiest person in the planet. I cannot stop myself from not thinking. I find it really, really, REALLY hard to concentrate because thoughts keep swarming my mind. I can't even sleep without thinking about something. Sometimes, I find it irritating that I need to contemplate on whatever thing that crosses my mind. And a LOOOOOOOOOT of people already warned me about thinking TOO much.

7. I am afraid of ME. I don't get angry easily. But if I do, I would find it really difficult to let go of everything. People tend to abuse me for my "shallowness", like when I overlook their CONSTANT mistakes. But you know, when you tend to ALWAYS forgive even without the person asking for your forgiveness, it can really push you off your limits. As for me, great love can turn to great hate and indifference. I can keep grudges. I actually scare myself when I think about it.

I had always wanted to tell this to the world, and I think this can be a good avenue for it.

I am good in the highest sense of good. I can serve you, I can let you step on me, I can make you happy, I can DIE FOR YOU. But you should not make me mad. Trust me. YOU WON'T LIKE IT.

---

*re-reads post*

Hmmm.. That sounded WEIRD. Haha!

Like I was beseiged by some evil force. But this is a journal anyway. And it is supposed to be an outlet of what I should feel. There should be no need to censor emotions. Especially if it affects you in a huge way.

As of now, I am in a stage of great emotionalslashsocial turmoil. And may God help me surpass this.

I'm tagging anyone who wants to be tagged.

Tag and Concatenate

2007-12-06T18:25:00.000+08:00

First, the tag from Ate Ychel. :)

5 Things Found In My Bag
Pens
Pieces of paper
Cellphone
Mp3 player
Book

5 Things Found In My Wallet
ATM card
Timezone card
Pictures
Notes from friends last February 14, 2006
Coins

5 Things Found In My Room (Alice once mistook my room for Wonderland)
GUITAR
Artworks pinned on the wall
Books on the table, books over and under the chair, books under the bed, books above and near the closet.
Bed with green bed covers
Polaris (my small, faded pink teddy bear)

5 Things I’ve Always Wanted To Do
Travel around the world
Eat
Read
Contemplate
Laugh. Dream. Live.

5 Things I’m Currently Into
SCHOOL (I'm dead serious)
DoTA
UNYAP (haha)
Checking my Multiply
My wonderful, wonderful classmates. :)

5 People to Tag for This Meme
Eseng milabs
Jenggay
Kimmi
Teeth
Paouwee Ko

---
Instant Insight for the hour:

Concatenate (verb) - to link together; unite in a series or chain. ALSO: juxtapose, combine, amalgamate, affix, agglutinate, conjugate.

We are all connected. As the sun to the moon. The rivers to the seas. Sky to land. Life and death. The world is a mosaic of different lives. A life is a conglomeration of a thousand different stories. Each story is a woven fabric of different people. Each person is a product of the world.

I do not destroy the cycle by cutting my connection to the world. I am the world.

I am YOU. I am WE.

I cannot, and I MUST not destroy ME US.

Mission: POSSIBLE.

2007-11-27T20:04:00.000+08:00

I just had my first overnight retreat in Manresa by the Sea. Yes, the same retreat house we went to last year. There is a God!

I feel calm and light. As if all the pain has faded away. I've been detached from my faith these past few months. Like Adam Aziz on Rushdie's Midnight's Children, I am torn between Eupraxsophy and tradition-rooted belief. Retreats and recollections are good for the soul. They keep it intact.

This has been my most memorable retreat so far. We shared stories, shared secrets, shared laughters, shared tears. We shared our lives. And I learned a lot of things.

Lesson 1.
God exists to make us happy. The idea of a Supreme Being is one of the mechanisms developed so we can cope with the harsh realities of life. God exists to provide hope. I don't want to question the existence of God again. It is difficult to do so. It is like getting away from your comfort zone and venturing to the deep abyss of the unknown. Before, I am happy with the notion of a higher entity guarding me. Now, it's difficult to keep the faith burning while fulfilling the yearning for knowledge. I find it really difficult to concentrate on our prayer this morning. I am pushing myself to BELIEVE. I am happy before. I want to be happy again. I don't want to feel lost. So what if there really is no God? What's next? If believing in God is a fallacy, then I think, I'd rather be illogical than be unhappy.

Lesson 2.
You will appreciate life better with the eyes of a friend. These past few weeks, two of my close friends, Paouwee and Millie were not in good terms with each other. I badly wanted them to be together again. Harvey told me that no matter how we wanted to help, we should leave the decision to them. On one of our activities, we were instructed to pair up with one another. WE paired them up together. When the activity is about to start, Paouwee and Millie hugged one another through streams of tears. No exchange of words. I can't help but cry. I have NEVER cried that much in public. I realized how beautiful life is if you feel its essence not JUST within you but with others as well. Happiness doubles if you feel it through a friend. I am keeping my fingers crossed that those two would not hurt each other again. I KNOW that they love each other. There is no reason for them to hurt and be hurt.

Lesson 3.
Childhood is the best stage in life. I wish I could go back to my childhood self. Back when innocence is still whole and untampered. I wish I can be a child once more. A child who lives on the simplicities of life. A child who finds it easy to listen, easy to express, easy to love, easy to forgive, easy to BELIEVE. I long for the days when I still find it easy to LIVE.

Lesson 4.
My purpose is to live forever. Because I will change the world. Living forever does not mean that I will exist physically for eternity, but rather, I will live through the people I know. These people are my world. Change is not necessarily holistic. Because change is evident at the moment that you touch the lives of these people. I need to start with the people near me before I can move to greater heights. Even ambassadors started on grassroots level. International Studies seems like an ideal course because it really is such. An idealistic concept to battle the harsh realities of life. International Studies is not an encompassing notion of alleviating atrocities. It is the unified movement of all integral components of a system.

Lesson 5.
I learned that my mission is to live life DREAMILY. Life is harsh. Don't make it worse by being too hard on yourself. My mission and purpose in life can be symbolized by a paper airplane. It does not have a specific path. It goes wherever the wind may take it. Coordinates are not a factor. It doesn't matter where it may land. What matters is the fact that it FLEW.

Lesson 6. (And by far the most important lesson of all)
A day is not enough for you to learn the complexities of life and how to deal with it. A day is not enough to understand and forgive someone. There is more than what meets the eye. There are more to tears than the fact that an oxygen molecule and two hydrogen molecules have the capability to conclude an entire story. There is more to friendship than the familiarity. There is more to An than being a Supergirl and the notion of her living a perfect life. There is more to Clariza and her goofy side. There is more to the International Studies students and their BEING such. There is more for me to be sorry for being blind to all of these.

A day is not enough.

For with them all, there is more to discover. There is more to love.

The World of Illuminada "Baby Girl" Binayubay

2007-11-21T21:25:00.000+08:00

Since I can't think of anything sensible to write, I'll introduce you to Baby Girl.

Illuminada "Baby Girl" Binayubay is a fictional character I came up with. :) Thanks to the ADDU Web Development Team for escorting me away from sanity. Haha!

Anyway, here are some random facts about "Baby Girl".

~ When Baby Girl gives you the finger, she’s telling you how many seconds you have left to live.

~ He, who laughs last, laughs best. He who laughs at Baby Girl, dies.

~ When the bogeyman goes to sleep, he checks his closet for Baby Girl.

~ Baby Girl once ate an entire bottle of sleeping pills. They made her blink.

~ Baby Girl never goes to the dentist because her teeth are unbreakable. Her enemies never go to the dentist because they have no teeth.

~ Baby Girl doesn't play god. Playing is for children.

~ When God said, "Let there be light", Baby Girl said, "say please."

~ The original title for Alien vs. Predator was Alien and Predator vs Baby Girl. The film was canceled shortly after going into preproduction. No one would pay nine dollars to see a movie fourteen seconds long.

~ When Baby Girl sneezes, she doesn't say "Atchoo" she says "DIE EVERYONE!!!". That's what happens next.

~ Not everyone that Baby Girl is mad at gets killed. Some get away. They are called astronauts.

~ If it looks like chicken, tastes like chicken, and feels like chicken but Baby Girl says its beef, then it's beef.

~ There's an order to the universe: space, time, Baby Girl.... Just kidding, Baby Girl is first.

~ With the rising cost of gasoline, Baby Girl is beginning to worry about her drinking habit.

~ The Bible was originally titled "Baby Girl and Friends"

~ Once a cobra bit Baby Girl's leg. After five days of excruciating pain, the cobra died.

~ Cars were invented to have a faster way of fleeing from Baby Girl. Not to be outdone, Baby Girl invented the car accident.

~ There are no races, only countries of people Baby Girl has beaten to different shades of black and blue.

~ Baby Girl can delete the Recycling Bin.

~ Baby Girl invented black. In fact, she invented the entire spectrum of visible light. Except pink. Tom Cruise invented pink.

~ Godzilla is a Japanese rendition of Baby Girl's first visit to Tokyo.

~ Whoever said "only the good die young" was probably in Baby Girl's kindergarten class.

~ Baby Girl knows the last digit of pi.

~ "Let the Bodies Hit the Floor" was originally written as Baby Girl's theme song.

~ Some people say that Baby Girl is a myth. Those "some people" are now dead.

~ Baby Girl died ten years ago, but the Grim Reaper can't get up the courage to tell her.

And by far, the most shocking:

Baby Girl has a deep and abiding respect for human life... unless it gets in her way.

Reasons and International Issues

2007-11-12T13:47:00.000+08:00

It's been a while. A looooooong, looong while. The first semester of my third year college life slipped by; and now it's "hello second sem". Three more semesters to go and it's "hello real world"! Haha!

Anyway, last October, me and my classmates (ABIS-ASST 3) went to Cagayan for the 1st MDG Mindanao Summit for Young Filipino Leaders. For the fulfillment of our frustration for our supposed-Hongkong trip, the sight of the letter from the National Youth Commission and United Nations Youth Association of the Philippines is a gift from the Gold Gardens. Thus, Cagayan De Oro City we come. At, least we DID travel. And in fairness, it IS relevant to our course. The Cagayan experience is worth it.

And no, I'm not making this as an excuse for NOT blogging. Here are some proofs. Click, click, click!

Truth be known, I've been gone for a while because I'm busy nurturing my favorite hobby. You know, inventing new things, philosophizing, creating amazing discoveries within the parameters of my mind.

Sorry guys, I wasn't able to get the last ticket from Dreamland to the world of reality so I have to purge all self-will I can muster to face this blogpad again. And boy, that WAS hard!

My only hobby is laziness, which naturally rules out all others.

Anyway, before I ran out out of active braincells again, I might as well finish this post. I made a video of my classmates when we were in Cagayan. It's a pseudo-scandal. Haha! I'm so evil! (I'll just blab about whatever that would come to my mind, so pardon the inconsistencies) :)

An ode to the third year International Studies Students of Ateneo De Davao University. Woooo! Guys! We made it! We REALLY made it! From 40+ to 13! From Chan to Billiones to Tiu! I am sooo glad we're classmates. I promise you that from now on, I'll study. SERIOUSLY. I'LL STUDY! I'll do all my best to STUDY! There's no way I'd be late for our graduation. I don't want to graduate with the second years who find TERROR in Ma'am Diaz's piece-of-cake lessons. No way! They did not undergo Chan and Billiones. And THEY DO NOT EVEN KNOW WHAT HALAL MEANS! (Halal? Ano yan? Brand name?) HAR HAR. And they had the nerve to call themselves International Studies students!? What the-- Grr.

Okay Bam, inhale, exhale. Blood pressure...

I just hate it when I talk about them. They never fail to annoy me. Ho-hum.

Proceed, proceed!

So anyway, talking about International Affairs and issues, I've watched the Miss Earth 2007 pageant last night and I noted some things.

* Indians DO speak good english.
India has succeeded in taking the number three spot for the largest English speaking country after UK and USA. The slot was formerly occupied by the Philippines, which now falls at number 4. And yes, India holds the title for the largest English speaking country in Asia. This can be the after-effect of the inculcation of education as a primary and integral concept in India nowadays. Tsk, tsk Philippines.

* Filipinos need to reaffirm themselves OVER and OVER and OVER again.
I find it funny how Filipinos (especially the media) tend to HIGHLIGHT the Filipino-ness of a person. Take for example Vanessa Hudgens. When she starred on High School Musical, you will ALWAYS, ALWAYS hear reporters blabbing on something like this "half-Filipina Hudgens bagged the most coveted role of blah blah yadda yadda". They would celebrate on the concept of an international celebrity having a DROP of Filipino blood in his/her veins. What do we know? The teeny-weeny drop of Filipino in her blood had been sucked up by a mosquito who bit her when she was young. Tsk, tsk. Exactly what happened last night during the Miss Earth pageant. When Jessica Trisko of Canada walked unto the stage, the reporter introduced her with "Half-Filipina Jessica Trisko blah blah blah" Irk. DUH! Honestly, we really don't care if she is half-Filipina or not. Because at the end of the day, she is still of Canadian citizenship, she is UNABLE of conversing in Filipino, and she WILL BE carrying the CANADIAN FLAG under her nose wherever she may go. Not that of the Philippines. I honestly think that the "reaffirming part" acted as a consuelo de bobo as Miss Philippines Earth did not make it to the Top 16.

* Filipinos ARE nationalistic.
If you don't agree with me, explain the RECURRING FAD of Miss Philippines winning nothing except the Miss Photogenic award EVERY YEAR.

* Latin American contenders do well in almost everything EXCEPT the substantial question and answer portion.
Ho-hum. As always. You always see these Latina beauties on the top 5 of every International Competition. Sadly though, it seems that their portrayal as eye candies make up most of their roles. In my OWN opinion, judging from past beauty pageants wherein Latinas make it to the Q&A portion, they do SUCK in substantive intellectual discourses. I'd rather eat Spanish sardines all my life than hear them choosing TWO options out of TWO in every pageant they join in.

During the Miss Universe 2007
Host: What is more important to you? The heart or the mind?
Contestant: *calls translator*
*contestant yapping in a foreign language*
Translator: She thinks that both should go together blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda.

During the Miss Earth 2007
Judge: *long intro* What would you choose between the economy and the environment?"
Contestant: *calls translator*
*contestant yapping in a foreign language*
Translator: She thinks that both should go together blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda.

ME: *rolls eyes* DUH. Can't she think of any better answers than that? What the hell!
Dorm mates: Bam! Easy ka lang. Inhale, exhale.

That is soooo lame. I tell you. No racial profiling intended. But once you hear a question like that for Miss Venezuela or Puerto Rico or Spain or what-have-you, expect the oh-so-lame-and-oh-so-safe answer you can hear on KIDDIE BEAUTY PAGEANTS FOR THE CEREBRALLY DISABLED.

* Moving on. I would like to tell the world how fascinated I am with Miss India.
She is SMART. AND BEAUTIFUL. AND TALENTED. And whatever you wish to look for a beauty queen if you set your definition on HOLISTIC beauty and not out of mere physicality.
Here, here. Click on this link and drool. And no, I'm not a lesbian.

Pooja Chitgopekar

Okay, okay. I think that's too much for today. Pardon my rantings. I'll be back. SOON. Hopefully. Hehe.

Tall Tales

2007-10-01T10:45:00.000+08:00

This is my final 'masterpiece' (as Ma'am Montojo refers to our papers) in Philo 103. One-page essay. We are given six questions and we have to pick one. I chose the 'million-dollar question "If you only have one week left to live, what will you do with your life?"

And after six hours of sitting across a blaring computer screen (five hours of which I spent STARING at the blank document), I manage to come up with this. :)

Back when I was a child, I often dreamt of wishing wells, fairies dancing in the moonlight, pirates aboard an old ship, and wagons flying into the vast purple-tinged night sky. I once believed that the moon is made of cheese and that finding the fountain of youth will grant you a life beyond end. I always believed in magic and fairy tales where the main protagonist lives happily ever after. I believed that if I just kept on hoping, maybe I will live forever too. But then, reality woke me up from my dreams. It showed me the way of the world. Reality taught me that life is not about dreams. Life is all about making things happen. So, I decided to wave at my inner child goodbye and stood up to follow the course of the real world. But even if I followed the flow of realism, I still dream. I dream and I make it happen. I still have more dreams to fulfill, so it will be quite a shock if I will learn that I only have one week more left in my life.

But then again, I realized that I AM already fulfilling my dreams. The dreams I have with me now are mere extensions of my hopes. I may not be living the perfect life but I am contented with what I have now. I have my fair share of life’s ups and downs and I have my family and friends with me. I do not think I have to ask for something more – because as I see it, I already have the best.

So, for the seven remaining days of life, I will live it like any ordinary week. I will still do the same routine and I will try as much as possible not to let others know that it will be my last days with them. I will spend more time with my family. I will do the things I usually do – I’d still listen to the everyday sermons of my grandmother and I will still be the one to wash the dishes. I will continue telling my sister that she is smart and beautiful and that I love her – and that she should be proud of what she is. I’d still argue with my younger brothers on which channel to watch, then we’d wrestle with one another and end up laughing on the couch. I’ll tell my mother again that even if I grew up with my grandmother, she is still the world’s greatest mom. I'd still talk to my dad as if he is just near me, and I will tell him that we will see each other soon.

I will talk to my friends like the way I use to talk to them. I want them to remember me in my last days just the way I am. I will still hug them, but this time, it would be tighter. I will ask them if they still remember my password in Friendster and my other internet accounts so that they can check it every now and then. We are so used on talks like these that I know they’d just shrug their shoulders and then go back on laughing at my silly bangs again.

I'd still hang out at the Webteam office, still visit the ADDU and MPDU forums, still subscribe to Globe Unlimited Texting. I'd still poke fun at Steven and his incredulous 'lovelife', still ask Ray for PhotoShop tips, still put my bag on Andrew's table, and still dream with Karla. I’d still have arguments with Harvey and I will still tease Millie. I’d still laugh with Kokoi, goof around with Chloe, share stories with Ann, procrastinate with Jeng, be Kim’s ‘squishy’, and I’ll sleep one last time at Paola’s house. I’d still raise my hand on Ma’am Montojo’s Philo 103 class and maybe, for a change, I’ll be early for our film viewings with Sir Cayas and I’ll try to stay awake in Sir Nap’s class.

I'd still pray, still paint, still write, still blog, still play my guitar, still throw in corny lines, still talk, still tell stories, still catch raindrops, still count the stars, still drink gallons of coffee, still smile, still laugh, still dream – for life IS a dream. I’d still LIVE. I know I need not to worry about people forgetting me, because the moment you leave a mark on one person’s life, is the beginning of your immortality. And I think I have left enough imprints of myself to the world. I want them to remember me as me, not on my last days, but on how I really am on my lifetime.

I will live life as it is, with no worries until the end.

Because, after all, that is the essence of life – not living the worries – but rather living the moment.

News from the Netherworld

2007-09-16T17:19:00.000+08:00

*throws confetti*

At last! I'm back from the World of the Dead! O how graceful it is to feel the sun! Goodbye slimes and cobwebs of un-blogging. It feels soooooooo good to be back! Bwahahaha! I'm sure I missed a lot of things. I'll be hopping on all of your blogs. I MISS YOU ALL! :)

And yeah, the BIG explanation for the long slumber. Whew! *roll VTR*

What did August do for me?
- Quite a lot happened. It was our Midterms. And in as much as I hate Midterms, it seems like Midterms hated me too. Take this, my grade in Philosophy plumetted. For FOURTEEN NOTCHES! (94 to 80) *bawls* Seems like my grades developed a new hobby: Sky-diving. Now I have to work extra hard for Finals. Grr.
- All that, I blame for the lax ambience every Midterms. We have the Ateneo Fiesta. Much controversial than usual. And yeah, I've been quite active in school affairs. Click here to see what I've been doing as an Atenean. Lol.
- And then there's the MPDC. We were in Cagayan De Oro City for this sem. The pictures are in my Multiply Photo Album.
- I've bought an mp3 player. Wahaha! To satisfy my music madness. What's new, what's new? I'm digging Imogen Heap. Kewl! :)
- Ramadan Season is on! No food and drinks after 4 in the morning til sunset. Wee!
- And yeash, help me welcome my long-time friend. She taught me all that is evil in this world. Haha! The site is in Filipino. Be warned. :)

Read at your own (eyesight's) risk

2007-07-29T15:54:00.000+08:00

(The following uber-long post explains my sudden hiatus. Pardon the length. It should fall on the category of creative non-fiction but I don't know whether it would pass as such. Haha!)

It was six o’clock in the morning. Streaks of warm sunlight seeped through the window jalousies. The cool morning air smelled strongly of leaves cloaked with dewdrops. Somewhere, the birds were chirping and singing for another day. I stretched my limbs and buried my face deeper into the pillow. Aye, HOME.

I love, love Jesuit education. Lots and lots of schooldays taken off because of Catholic Celebrations. This time, it’s the annual teacher’s retreat. Three precious days taken off the weekdays. And Monday is St. Ignatius Day so that would be a total of six days plus the weekends. And yeah, long vacations mean one thing – I AM GOING HOME!

There isn’t really something special about going home. It just means sniffing the old Cotabato air, waking up with the chirping of the birds, submersing yourself for hours of moon and stargazing, eating as much as you can (which includes being able to eat much rice without the hassle of saying ‘EXTRA RICE PLEASE’), seeing my cousins again, snatching a few moments of intimacy with my siblings, watching TV for hours, COOKING, WASHING THE DISHES, taking hour-long baths without the constant knocking, and of course, listening to the everyday yapping of my grandmother. HOME SWEET HOME. It’s not something special, it is EVERYTHING special that is. Maybe I was so used to adjusting that I don’t really sink myself to depression when I think about them. I haven’t realized that it has been two years. Two years living without my family. I haven’t seen my mom for six months and I haven’t missed her to the extent of burrowing my face into hers when we meet. Two years, and everything is still the same. Yet, I know they were now different. My brother Ammar is now eleven and is on his last year in grade school. Sharmaine (Men) has already gotten her period, is the second lieutenant in their CAT, and has only one more year left before college. Muaz, our youngest, grew larger than before. Long gone were the days when we threw cups at each other when we fight. We were growing up. And I barely even noticed. The changes haven’t shocked me until I slept at night and I find my pillow wet from tears. I wondered where they came from before. But now I know. They were my unconscious lamentations.

Last Friday, Mamang asked me to go to Kusiong. Kusiong is that coastal countryside where I spent my pre-schooldays and my long summer breaks. She woke me with her usual everyday voice lessons. Ranting about everything that displeases her. My grandmother is still the same strict woman I knew my whole life. She hasn’t changed a bit. And so Kusiong I go. We took the course via river. Mamang’s cousin, Papay, had his pumpboat. He is going to visit his fishpond. Seeing the convenience. Mamang literally threw me inside the boat, handed me my clothes, loaves of bread, and a bag of fresh rambutan for my cousins. I can actually go to Kusiong via jeep but since it would be my first time to ride a boat to get there, I happily took my seat and prepared for what would be a great adventure ahead. And the river cruise began. It was like sailing through the Amazon. Twice, we've seen a falcon and an eagle circling above the mangroves and swooping down the river to catch fish. The river currents formed curved shapes as they collided with each other. The water splashed continuously on the sides of the boat. Only the roaring sound of the motor could be heard; yet, there is stillness inside of me. I felt peace. I felt that all my worries were drowned on the gushing waters. And then, we were on the open sea. The mocha-colored water dissolving into deep turquoise. Fishermen boats dotted the vast horizon. I must be too busy gaping at them because the next thing I knew, we were already docking on the shoreline of my childhood years.

Nothing has changed. At first glance. It's still the same long stretch of beach lined with cottages and the acacia trees Mamang has planted. When I was small, I took pride of our beach because unlike other beaches that has coconut trees in them, we have acacia trees. During those times, I am still Mamot for those who know me well and this place is PANTALAN for the barrio people. But that was before the elaborately-painted gate and the videokehan opened. It was when the number of cottages were still below thirty. But what was PANTALAN before, is ZAHRA BEACH now for picnickers and barrio people alike. And people now know me as BAM. Nevertheless, whatever its name may be, it's still ME and my HOME.

After putting my things in our house, I decided to take a dip into the waters. For me, DIPPING means more than an hour of bobbing in and out of the water. Yes, I've been living in the city all my life but deep inside I'll always be a barrio kid. Some say I never grew up. I still exude the cheerfulness I have when I was still Mamot. Some say, I always bring back memories of yesterday. Some say, I bring with me an invisible band of kids. THEIR KIDS. The kids I used to play with. The kids before who have now left their homes either to seek fortune abroad, or to have kids themselves.

I decided to wash my clothes after two hours in the water. Its almost siesta time so I climbed up the hammock my beloved Bapa Eng made. My uncle never grew old. I can say that with the way he laughs whenever he watches Tom and Jerry. Very much the same with his laugh ten years earlier. I thought, time really IS slow in places like this. I must have dozed off longer than usual because I woke up at around sundown. I knew it was already sunset even if the sun is hiding himself behind the mass of clouds that looked like lumpy cotton balls. Its faint orange tinge barely visible from the steel gray color of the sky. I sat up and walked around the house. There were bicycles inside the yard so I hopped on one and pedaled my way around the beach. I swerved to keep away from the protruding roots of the towering acacia trees. Back when I was a child, I used to play with these roots. I would walk on top of them and never let my feet touch the ground.

I pedaled until I reached the far point of the beach where our old house was located. It was still there. Though renovated by my uncle, Bapa Don, before he died. The bamboo walls, wooded panels, nipa roof, and rattan walls were his legacy.

I can't explain it, but that part of the beach disturbs me. There, the air is thick, the birds hum, and the silence is broken only by the faint rumbling of the waves at the distance. I avoid going to this area especially during afternoon. It makes me sad. And ALONE. This place reminds me of what was once but is lost. Here, I look at the past but I see reality staring back at me, slapping my face, shaking my shoulders. Here, I still see Men sitting beside the house selling mangoes so that she can have money to put on her piggy bank. I see Ammar's toothy grin as he would throw mango peelings at Men. I see Mami carrying Muaz in her arms. And I see Papang, with his baggy shirts and faded jeans, walking towards us. Laughing and talking. He would then walk towards Men, pat her head then go to Ammar. Ammar would then jump around him and Papang would laugh and carry him around. And then he would walk towards Mami. He'd get Muaz and play with him while talking to Mami. All that with his humongous bag still slung over his shoulders. Then he would look for me. He'd grunt and say 'MULAG' then all of them would chorus DAMULAG. And I'd run to him and threw my arms up his neck. He would pat my head and we would all walk inside the house happily.

I still see these things. But in dull gray shades. It seemed so real even if I know that it is not.

I got on my bike again and this time walked along the shore. My aunt Kakabai once taught me how to throw stones that would leap in the water. I took one and sent it flying in the air. It landed on the water with a soft splash. It took me five stones before I managed to do two leaps. I picked up another pebble. The sixth pebble is covered with moss. And then I remembered. The stones here aren't covered with moss back when I was a child. Was the world so young then? Or did the stones grew old with me? Where are the shells that usually were a-plenty in this area? Did they vanish with the years gone by? I looked up to the blooming flowers of the acacia tress and the birds that circle the treetops. What happened here? I looked down and threw the pebble in the waters. It leaped three times, sending ripples at my feet. After a few seconds, they were gone. As if I never threw any stone at all.

Impermanence. This is the way of the world. Everything come and go through time. Time IS Impermanence. It takes away everything. Not now, but someday it eventually will. Nobody can stop the cycle.

I rode in my bike and pedaled home as the last rays of the sun left the earth. Dusk fell and the moon rose, leaving a faint glow around the beach. Clouds masked the moon's radiance. It was dark, save for some trees which were lighted up by fireflies. I looked out the window and sighed. I tapped my pen on the windowpane along with the noisy chatter of the crickets.

Time takes everything. Even memories. That is why I leave my thoughts to the pen and paper. Maybe, if I put them into form, it would still last even after me. Maybe, time wouldn't erase it completely. Maybe, I could say that forever does exist.

May it be.

The Parable of the Two Babies

2007-07-18T16:08:00.000+08:00

One sunny morning, two babies met in a nursery room. Their mothers were busy chatting with each other so the two babies decided to play with each other. Little Baby Purple wears a purple bonnet and is playing with a pink teddy bear. Little Baby Pink wears a pink bonnet and is playing with toys of different colors. As they were playing, Little Baby Pink borrowed Little Baby Purple's pink teddy bear. She was very fond of it that she didn't let go of it for even a second. The pink teddy bear is the only toy that Little Baby Purple has. But seeing that Little Baby Pink likes it very much, she then let her play with it. Lunch came and their mothers fetched them. Little Baby Pink didn't give the pink teddy bear back to Little Baby Purple. Even if she's a bit dismayed, Little Baby Purple let Little Baby Pink have the toy.

After lunch, Little Baby Pink and Little Baby Purple saw each other again. Little Baby Pink is not carrying the pink teddy bear anymore. Little Baby Purple looked for it. And she cried when she saw her pink teddy bear, filthy and torn, jammed recklessly in the trash can.

Moral of the story:
What may be junk for you, may be treasure for another person. So if you would take something from someone, the least you can do is to TAKE CARE OF IT. If you can't, then stop grabbing things which are not YOURS, in the first place. Please try to learn RESPECT.

Where are all the voices coming from?

2007-07-12T19:26:00.000+08:00

Overheard. Underheard.

^^: Honestly, you have to tell him the problem.

~-~: Haller. How would you tell him? "You know what's the problem? It's you YOURSELF."

^^: Duh. So what? It's his fault anyway. Why is he butting into other people's lives. Old age was never tantamount to wisdom. It's just a stupid cliche. Created by a stupid pseudo-philosopher.

~-~: Respect. He's older. He's like a brother.

^^: Har har. Brother yer face. It pisses me. He thinks he's great. So what if he have been to this experience and that, that does not mean he knows everything. Who is he to DEMAND you when he does not know ANYTHING about you. Assumptions!

~-~: err... okay. Well, suit himself. If I'll prove them that I'm not what they think, y'know, change and what-have-you.. all the crap they're talking about, its like forgetting my philosophies. If you are always pleasing someone, it just proves that you are insecure with yourself that you need another person's affirmation. He doesn't like me, fine. Who is he anyway?

^^: sshh.. "someone" can hear us.

~-~: I don't give a damn about her. I hate her too. She thinks she's great.

^^: You seem to hate a lot of people these days. Anything the matter?

~-~: Nothing. They're just, THEM. I have too much of these plastics.

^^: I should have not opened this topic. Go listen some music. Try Sum 41's Some Say. Haha! Suits your current situation.

~-~: Ahaha.. Funny. I've been playing Sum 41, Fort Minor, Smash Mouth, and Linkin Park in my playlist. Thank God for alternative.

^^: Forget your worries. And let this blare in his eardrums.

"Think before making up your mind. You don't seem to realize
I can do this on my own
And if I fall I'll take it all
It's so easy after all."

~-~: Loser. Hehe. I'm thinking about him again.

^^: Who? Oh.. HIM? Haha! Boys. They're headaches.

~-~: uh-huh. He's such a loser.

^^: I know. *nods* Everyone else does. Stupid git. That's how things go. You'll never miss the water until the well runs dry.

~-~: Why do people like him exist?

^^: Balance of nature, dear. It would be a shame having clever people all over. Too much brains to handle. We need lesser beings.

~-~: You're sooo mean!

^^: No I'm not. I'm just honest. Haha!

~-~: Life, with its dark tinge, meeting beings like them. Tsk. It can be a bore at times.

^^: Most of the time, actually.

~-~: But I guess we're left with no choice. We have to live it.

^^: That's what it is all about in the first place anyway.

---
And then, just as how they came, they vanished. Like that. In a snap. In a wink of an eye. Like a bubble.

Uncontrollable. Like sanity.

----

PS. (The following entry is related with what is written above. Though indirectly related.)

Jane et Joy

I talked about JANE in my previous post.

Now, I'll be talking about her twin, JOY! :) I used to dream about having twins, and these two strengthened my yearning for one. They are always together. They argue RARELY. They share the same interests. They love each other very much. You hurt one, and you've already hurt the other.

I was first acquainted with Jane, but then, you can't help loving Joy too. Joy, like her name, is a gift. A precious gift. Like Jane, she is also an artist, a musician, an athlete, and one bright girl. Hehe. (Liver spread na to!) They have EVERYTHING except height. *snickers* But then again, BIG things come in small packages.

These two influenced me GREATLY. It was Jane who taught me how to play the guitar. It was Joy who taught me how to read tabs. It was Jane who brought back my forgotten interest in mathematics. It was during my Philosophy chit-chats with Joy that I've decided to take Philosophy as a minor on my senior year. It was them who granted me the idea of dashing in McDonald's Bajada at eight in the evening JUST to buy a COKE FLOAT. It was them who I enjoy having Art Sessions much. It was them who pushed me in this Meg and Dia craze. And it was them who introduced Callalily to me. It was their home where I ran and slept for four days during the darkest moment of my life. It was them both who showed me the values of a happy family. It was them. CHAR!

Hehe. Honestly, this part is a pseudo-ode for these two. We do not hang out much these days and I've been missing them a lot. I've been bugging them since last summer to spare me at least one of their artworks. And at last, AT LONG LAST, they handed me one. *maniacal laughter*

The concept: Callalily (band) and Converse. Converse All-Star~Chuck Taylor is Callalily's favorite shoe. Green is their favorite color. Like the shoe, Callalily is a classic. It's timeless.
Conceptualized by: Alhmae and Jane
Illustrated by: Joy and Jane

I love Callalily, and I love Converse. But I love the twins more. Haha! I find it amazing how strong their love for each other can be. Here, Joy wrote her initials. But, on closer look, it is actually THEIR initials, Rizza Joy Villanueva and Rizza Jane Villanueva. Joy always signs her initials, NOT her name, in her artworks. Jane, often uses the pseudonym "kambal", like her account on DeviantArt [http://kambal.deviantart.com]. Sisterly love. *sniff*

Whenever I think about them, I feel truckloads of logs banging my heart. They care and love each other much (I'm getting redundant), but they don't fail to extend this love to the people around them. Crossing paths with them is lucky, but having them both as FRIENDS? Man, am I blessed!

I value these two so much that I can't stand seeing them hurt. Lest of all, me hurting them.

I won't. Not even for a lifetime supply of McDonald's Coke Float.

The world is made up of choices

2007-07-04T20:22:00.000+08:00

And whether you want to believe it or not,

is YOUR CHOICE.

Wendy Who?

2007-06-30T15:08:00.000+08:00

I don’t watch PBB regularly but I've had doses of this Wendy issues wherever I go. And I find it funny how this whole Wendy thing grabbed the attention of the Filipino society. Criticisms here and there, hate mails, and what-have-yous. Everyone seems to be entangled in this web of intrigues. So, enough of the comments about what is CURRENTLY happening. Let us look on what may happen and to where this Wendy outbreak will lead us.

I, myself, had a list of what MAY happen if Wendy would FINALLY step out of the house.

1. Knowing the Filipino Culture of "pakikisama", I don't think that the "throwing of kamatis" is actually feasible. Filipinos USUALLY hide their feelings because of their notion that they, as part of a society, should act in a manner that the society would agree. On eviction night, I'm betting that the worst "public display of criticism" Wendy might get is a series of boos (and hopefully ONE tomato from one brave soul somewhere).

2. Its funny how many Filipinos see PBB in two ways. One, as a CHARITY-INSTITUTION for the lower strata of the society; and TWO, as a STAR-SEARCH for aspiring "actors and actresses". This heavily contradicts the REAL PREMISE of the show itself, which is ENTERTAINMENT. At first, it was quite entertaining. Until the drama. Drama that is SOOOO inappropriate in real life. Drama ng Totoong Buhay? Blech! Put a sock in it.

3. Wendy the Superstar. Yes, yes. I know she will be one hit celebrity. She already is right now. There are two main reasons why Wendy's face will swarm our TV sets within a week's time.

a) One, ABS-CBN owes her MUCH. We can't deny that this Wendy issue has swept the country by storm. Thus, the continuous DOWNPOUR of VOTES from WENDY-SUPPORTERS and from WENDY-HATERS themselves. Some Wendy-haters are constantly bombarding the charts with their votes for their bet housemates so that Wendy will not get the prize. And what does this mean? INCOME for the network station. Mind you, its 2.50 per vote. And how many votes do you think there is since the start of the season? Because of the racket Wendy brought, the least that the station could give her is a break in the entertainment industry. On second thought, she ALREADY IS on the entertainment industry! Tsk.

b) Two, going back to the Filipino Culture of Pakikisama, those hosts who disses her now will be pasting on their best smiles when they'd finally interview her. My god. That is how showbiz go. You stab a person when she's not looking, then bombard her with hugs and flowers when she faces you. And probably, because of this "kahayupan" that Wendy is staging, some reporters would probably think twice before writing bad stuff about her. She already perfected that "be-plastic-with-me-and-you-die" attitude. The word plastic is based on the context of Wendy's definition. She has her own dictionary. And you know how "play-safe" some reporters are. Thus, Wendy will be living on spotlight, and who knows the amount of money and fame she may receive until this Wendy rage dies.

As for me, I'm getting irritated with Wendy this and Wendy that. I don't want to hear anything about her. I found the need to write this so as to give an avenue for my rants about the Filipino mentality of fame. If there are two things that the usual Filipino loves, it's issues and intrigues. Two things they get from POLITICS and SHOWBIZ. On which the line that separates this two is getting blurred as time goes. Filipino politics becomes entertainment. And show business entertains us in such irritating ways that could only have been POLITICS.

Brr. If I'd have enough money, I'll pack my bags and migrate into the Arctic to get away from all this chaos.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the penguins there don't watch TFC.

Why I Hate Assumptions

2007-06-24T20:27:00.000+08:00

Saying that I hate assuming would be the understatement of the year.

You see, I believe that the human brain is one of the most amazing thing in the world. Its capability is beyond comprehension. It does not only gather about the physical facts but is also capable of IMAGINATION. If there is one weapon that we should all fear about, it is our BRAIN. The central unit of our body. You stop it, and you die.

The brain is full of mystery that a lot of sciences has been created in order to understand its full capacity. But what is more to this little piece of meat, perhaps we could never understand. It is powerful. It create things. Whether it be good or bad. Oh yes, our brain helps. But it also destroys. Especially if we are swayed by our judgment. This part which should be capable of RATIONALIZING and putting SENSE is then put to question. Is human emotion more powerful than the brain because it could push thinking aside?

Partly yes, if you're hurt, you can't tell your eyes to stop crying. You can't switch your brain to a certain mode so it can hinder those tear glands. But then again, isn't the hypothalamus located in the brain in itself? Isn't it our brain who reacts through certain stimuli that makes us capable of feeling the hurt?

If so, then the brain really is the master in command of our whole system. And to get back to the topic, how is this in any way connected to the presence of assumptions?

See, the brain is so powerful, so creative, so imaginative, that we can't control it. The only thing that could affect its mental process is the existence of our emotions. Our brain creates this emotions, but at times, the emotions overflow that we lose track of our sensibility. Because of this emotions, the brain's IMAGINATIVE prowess is heightened.

And with this hyper-active imagination, the human mind creates its own sense of truth. Truth which is basically off-set the REAL TRUTH. Take for example, you see your prim and proper colleague walking in the park at half-past midnight with a man you've never seen before. They are extremely close with each other as if their midriffs were glued together. They were talking in hushed voices. Afterwards, you saw them entering a hotel.

So there, what will you conclude? Will you say that your colleague is such a bitch that she dares walk in the park with some stranger and then they end up their tryst in a cozy hotel? See? The wonders of the human brain. It makes you an instant scriptwriter or some sort.

But then, that is YOUR side of the story. What if the man your colleague is talking to is her brother? A brother whom she haven't seen for years? And that she is escorting him to his hotel? Or what if that was her father? Who just got off from jail? And they are discussing things in low voices to avoid the invisible ears.

It's a different viewpoint. But all from the same scene. So you see... It's funny how some people think they know EVERYTHING but the truth is they really don't know ANYTHING at all. And what's worse is that they would threaten you that they know something you don't know that they know even if they aren't really sure if what they know is really the truth. And to make themselves sure that what they know is true, they affirm their opinion with THEMSELVES and they think that is enough.

All assumptions. But it ends up ruining other people's lives. And after the chaos and the REAL affirmations, everything is not really done for. Dignity is like your favorite white shirt. If it gets stained with something, the dirt can still be washed off. But afterwards, you will never let your shirt get near THAT SOMETHING which stained it.

Yes, assumptions are part of life but will you, by any chance, want people to judge you because of a mere assumption?

If you'll ask me, I won't.

PS. (This is in no way connected with my post, I just want to blab about it. Hehe.)I finally met my 'TWIN'. I first blogged about her on the Ateneo Fiesta Day 1. Her name is Ivy Jagna. And we're dorm mates. :)

What Makes Man Really Human?

2007-06-21T12:40:00.000+08:00

School has started. And I'm as busy as a bee. In fact, busier than the Drone and Worker Bees put together. Lots of academic and extra-curricular tasks up my sleeve. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that they'd be visible in my yearbook stats.

I encountered quite a lot of hassles during the first week of the semester. I kept coming back at the Division office for the hellish adding/dropping process. Adding Trigonometry, dropping Trigonometry, adding a Philosophy minor (Feminism), dropping Feminism, and finally adding Statistics. Whew! After a zillion mock words for our bald coordinator and trips to the finance office, I'm officially done with the hierarchical manifestation of doomsday in progress.

Nevertheless, the first week of my classes went smoothly and that brings me here to talk about one of my favorite topics. *drum rolls* Philosophy.

Our Philosophy core subject for this semester is Philo 103 aka Philosophy of the Human Person. On the first day of class, our teacher asked us to list the characteristics that makes Man Really Human.

We had numerous, and some repetitive, answers like being rational, ability to transcend, change, adapt, innovate, and the ability to ask questions.

Speaking of questions. A lot of questions sprouted. Are these characteristics intrinsic or conventional? If they're conventional, who sets them? Is the inability to achieve them makes you less human? If it's intrinsic, then do we have to learn about it or not?

While my classmates were busy plaguing Ma'am with questions, I was deeply engrossed with my own thoughts. For all the questions raised, I ask, What then is being Human in the first place?

Being HUMAN connotes a lot of things. It can be negative or positive. When connoted in the context of spirituality, being human can mean attachment to earthly things. But then again, this presupposes the idea of dichotomy: the belief on the BODY AND SOUL. I do not agree with this belief. It leads us to the notion that the SOUL is good and the BODY is otherwise. The soul is given premium and the body is viewed as a secondary object. This should not be. Because when we refer to a human being, we refer it as a WHOLE and not as two different entities. The soul of a human being needs a body to dwell on, and the body requires the soul for it to be "alive". So basically, one cannot exist without the other. And treating them as two different entities is quite detrimental for the idea of wholeness and being.

Since the two are connected, the first thought of telling someone human is when he/she looks human of course. If you have enough sense, you would not call a dog HUMAN. But then being human PHYSICALLY is just a part.

The Human Being is rational. It is intrinsic. We are born with the natural capability to think. This is the common trait present in us all. Whatever changes that may cause nuance to this intrinsic trait is a product of the environment where the individual is nurtured. Rationality is permanent. It makes man human in the first sense. Everything else follows after rationality. Ability to choose, sensibility, innovation, creativity, and self-transcendence. Above all the following traits, it is SELF-TRANSCENDENCE that marks the Human Being's step to PERSONHOOD or the fullness of his/her being human. We are given rationality and with this, we have the capability to transcend. In transcendence, we go BEYOND our blindly-determined result. We go beyond our limits. Thus, starts our journey into BEING HUMAN. Nevertheless, it is still our choice whether to transcend or not.

Some people may not show "signs of rationality", but it DOES exist. Maybe, they just chose NOT to use it. But then again, the concept of choosing requires thinking, per se.

BEING HUMAN is a lifetime process. But like all processes, what matters is NOT the endpoint, but the JOURNEY to the endpoint itself. :)

Children and Tags

2007-06-11T17:32:00.000+08:00

Pansit once told me,

"You're not childish. You're just childlike."

Childish and childlike. Sounds the same to me. Before.

According to my online lifesaver, http://dictionary.reference.com, there is a huge difference between childish and childlike. Childishness often has unfavorable connotations, whilst childlikeness is otherwise.

People used to call me childish. Isip-bata. And honestly, I find such people who refer me that way stupid. First point, they can't justify their accusation of the word childish. Or maybe because their lexical definition of such term is way off-target. I'm not isip-bata. I'm kilos-bata. DUH.

Yes, I do act like a child most of the times. I run in broad daylight. I laugh at the corniest joke. I ALWAYS express my utmost disgust for Tagalog Romance Pocketbooks. I can't STAND on heels. I trip on my own feet at times. I'm quite clumsy. I can live in an Arcade. I still read fairy tales. I still talk with my mouth full. And I'm naturally LOUD and TALKATIVE.

But with all these, I don't see anything wrong with it. Because truth be told, I like being a child. I understand it when people say that I should act my age. But then again, I DO act my age. It doesn't necessarily mean that if you do what little children do, you're automatically CHILDISH. And it also doesn't mean that if you do these things when they see you, you're vindicated of doing it at ALL times.

"I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven."
[Matthew 18:3-4]

If I could choose who I'd rather spent my life with, I'll spend it with a child. Children are innocent beings. They're frank. Unlike adults who perceives acting "maturely" but turns out to be otherwise. I have a lot to rant about people who always tells me to be MATURE ie stop acting like a child. Why would I stop? I AM a child. I don't act like one. I am one. And since when did immaturity became tantamount on acting like a child? As far as I have observed, children tend to be more mature than adults. There is nothing more mature than being REAL. Perfection and fulfillment of societal norms is not equated to maturity. Try reading De Saint-Exupery.

I break society's rules. But I don't care. You know why? Because I'm happy.

When I heard Pansit's words, I stopped talking for a while.

"A running boy is inside every man, no matter how old he gets."

I quoted this from Mitch Albom's The Five People You Meet in Heaven. It is true. We are all children at heart. So it doesn't really matter if you're open about it. Right?

I played tag with a friend last night. Under the cloudy evening sky. Some passers-by were looking at us. But we didn't care. We're happy. If they find happiness in watching us, then let them be. Everybody happy! I wonder what would they think if they found out that we played "chicken2x" and doodled anime characters on paper the whole afternoon. But on the other side of the coin, we're just improving our talents. Haha! And tag is a good form of exercise, anyway. :p

Speaking of tags, I've been tagged by Romina.

10 Things I Want to Do Before I Die

1. Make a name. We'd all die. But wouldn't it be nice if our legacy would live on, ages after our death? Now that's immortality.

2. Do extreme sports. Bungee jump. Sky dive. You name it.

3. Tour the world. Visit all continents. That's always been my dream.

4. Make a scrapbook or video. About everything I love about life.

5. Write a book. It can be a compilation of my favorite quotations, some insights about life, some people I look up to, some of my wacky thoughts, or probably a list of my favorite blogs. *wink*

6. Have an expedition under the ocean. I often think how fun it is to be a marine biologist.

7. Ride a plane. Okay, this may be quite shocking for some, but I haven't ride a plane yet. *turns red, waits for the ground to open up and swallow me whole*

8. Eat genuine foreign food. How does it feel like to eat paella right in the heart of Madrid? Or have Bouillabaisse in Paris? And even if it sounds quite gross, I'd like to eat Kidney Steak in England with the Queen herself. [The gross part is on the Kidney Steak, not the Queen! You poor fish.]

9. Travel to the Outer Space. Oh yeah! Have I told you I once dreamt of being an astronaut? :)

10. Have a child. I mean, sayang ang genes ko noh! Haha! Told yah, I love children. =p

I'm tagging everyone who wishes to answer this meme and share their dreams. No matter how crazy it may be. :) Happiness is a choice. Because every minute you spend frowning is sixty seconds of happiness you can never get back.

Birthdays and Poetry

2007-06-08T12:50:00.000+08:00

So long 17. Tsk. 18 is just a number. I didn't feel anything unusual. I wished I could have morphed into a winged creature, be it a mananaggal or a fairy. So I could say that turning 18 is worth it. Hehe.

But anyway, it's not everyday you turn 18. And you don't usually cry everytime you celebrate your birthday. Whew. So for those who gave out their greetings on, before or after the first day of June, a huge, huge thank you to you all. :) I mean it. If gratitude can be coins, you'll have the largest piggy bank in the world. Haha!

---
As I've said on my previous post, I'll be posting some of my pseudo-poems. Hehe. I've had three so far, Strolling on your house on a Sunday Afternoon [which I wrote for Aya], SESSEDOGEHT [for Deyah] and Sunset. I "wrote" Sunset for weeks. I spent three days in Kusiong on May 26-28. Late Beach fever. I went swimming just before sunset and yeah, seems like one frustrated poet's soul sank unto my body. The concept was made. You know what they say, sunset makes people poetic. Har har. I wrote a few lines that night. Then the other lines just came by after a few days. Lots and lots of "revisions". Oh I wish none of my mentors could read this. So much for my attempts on poetry.

Sunset

It was when the
sun married the sea,
and the sky bled.
Its blood turned the
waves auburn as they
raced with one anoher
ashore.

The shore where he stood
and smiled at me
Then he waded into
the shallow waters,
giggling,
everytime the waves hit him.

He waved at me.
I waved back.
Looking at his smirking
face, his frail limbs,
the water, and the long shore.
I gazed at the sand,
and the shells, and I listened to the
lapping of the waves
Crooning me to sleep.
But then I woke up,
when his shriek pierced the air.

His scream reverbrated
to the sky.
The sky of deep crimson.
Crimson, mirrored by the waves.
The waves that rolled to the shore.
The shore, where the sea trysts with
the sand and the pebbles.
The pebbles where
I sat,
sat motionless with shock.

My body froze as he
struggled with the waves.
The waves lashing
his thin body.
His thin body disappearing
in the velvet waters.
The velevet waters that
beds the sun.

The sun that married
the sea.

*silence* Err.. That's it. Thanks to my little cousin who was playing by the shore at that time, the idea swam into my otherwise-frozen braincells. I was picturing him playing with the waves. Laughing, giggling, shouting. Then getting drowned! Haha! I kid. I just love that pest. Even though he continually makes my temper flare up with his dorkiness.

Next time, I'll write something about his missing front tooth.

Issues, issues, issues

2007-06-03T15:15:00.000+08:00

Tsk. And when will I be able to post without adjusting the date settings? Sigh. Well, anyway, to keep track of the thoughts, I'll try juxtaposing the issues in Mass Media and Literarure.

First off, the powerful and influential world of Media. I've had quite a number of posts about media. The one about the Pacquiao-Morales and the "Fame and Power" issue. And now, the power of media is highlighted once again. We can clearly see its clasp on our society with the latest events. Mayweather-Dela Hoya fight, Elections 07, and of course, the Miss Universe Pageant. Tsk. Speaking of the Miss Universe pageant... [take the cue: I'll be talking about the pageant and not media here]

Why, oh, why! In the name of the beautiful skies! I woke up early to watch it. Like duh. The Philippines have Anna Theresa Licaros. I soooo love her! Whew! I feel like running to the nearest surgery clinic and have my sex changed. UP Diliman Summa cum Laude. One of the Most Outstanding Students of the Philippines 2005. Tsk. She's not just beautiful, she's got BRAINS! I saw one interview with her, and boy is she smart! Debater-smart. She's got substance. Not that I don't like the other contestant. They're all ravishing in their own ways, it's just that I was quite disappointed with what happened. The Q&A portion added insult to injury. I can just imagine her answering them! Waaah! Frustrations. At its highest.

Yah, yah. Everything is subjective, but really, she deserves the crown. You tell me.

Anna Theresa Licaros

Next issue: LITERATURE. Quite related with Bru's post.

I was enjoying living the simple life back in my pseudo-quiet hometown when Don Pagusara summoned me to join the Writer's Workshop. Whooo! So what? Well, it's just that Sir Pagusara won the Carlos Palanca Award in Literature and he will be one of our mentors in the said workshop. And what's with the workshop? It's a wrting workshop (duh) headed by Sir Macario Tiu and the Humanities Division in AdDU. (Tiu is another Palanca Awardee). We also had some fellows from the Davao Writers Guild (ie the beautiful ma'am Maria) and ma'am Lota De Pio. There has been a pseudo-screening wherein you pass either three poems, one essay, or one short story. For the love of God and the curse of procrastination and laziness, I passed my English21-personal-narrative-turned-short-story. And for lack of better terms, wished my way into the workshop. There are only a few of us (not more then ten). Bru, Kristianne, Myke (Most Outstanding First Year 2007), Sir Phillip, Sir Godie and our mentors. Some highly-acclaimed students (hehe) mushroomed every now and then during the duration of the workshop. And I've finally met Mel (adobobo)! She's cute. And she's smart. And she's a great writer. And I hope she won't read this.

Sir Tiu said that the school compensated 30,000php for the workshop. That's quite cheap since it's an ANNUAL workshop and we have these Palanca Awardees as faculty of AdDU. Way, way cheaper! What luck! 30,000 bucks! So that means, it's almost 3,000php per person. Haha! I love, love, love the workshop. Never-ending supply of food! My worms were jubilant. But aside from digestive satisfaction, I did get what I joined in for. I never knew that simple poetry can be soooo complicated. Tsk. I'll be posting some of my pseudo-poems on my next post. :)

I guess my summer isn't that boring after all.

Well, almost.

A Heed for Political Awareness

2007-05-15T20:17:00.000+08:00

I'm currently in an on-off relationship. With my blog. Tsk. Hiatus every now and then. Why are my brain cells deteriorating? I always get a lot of insights but whenever I face the blogpad – zilch! They’re gone before I even knew it. And sometimes, I don’t even understand how it happens. I think so to prevent from this sudden outflux of ideas, I’ll just continue typing until I can finally locate my thoughts. I have a lot to blog actually. Politics. Mass media. Nature. Dreams. Literature. Because a LOT happened. I'll be posting the other issues on my next posts. So first stop, politics.

Elections 2007 came. And passed. It’s funny how politics flow nowadays. I can’t see the difference between it and the reality star-searches network channels embed in our mindsets. Photos of candidates swarm OVER us. Everyone is doing everything to win.

Yes, this IS politics. Politics was never clean. It’s all about competition. But do we really have to be THIS dirty? Politicians aiming to IMPLEMENT rules when they themselves BREAK them. Try reading the COMELEC’s Rules on Campaign Materials, some line there says that “no campaign material should be POSTED on GOVERNMENT PROPERTY and private properties, if and only if, the owner desires to do so.” I was roaming around during the campaign days and I see all sorts of violations. Posters EVERYWHERE. Electric posts, TREES, even on the ASPHALT ROAD. And if you, poor concerned citizen would try to report this on COMELEC, you’ll be so lucky if the COMELEC would not SUE you instead. Rampant killings everyday. And some candidates spend a lot to be on public office.

How noble. Isn’t Philippines amazing? Where else can you find people willing to sacrifice their life and their living just to SERVE THE PEOPLE. Har har.

I’m not generalizing all politicians here. I speak for what I observe, and I say MOST people running for public office have “evil thoughts” in them. The good apples are RARE.

Raised in a politically-active environment, I do know how filthy Philippine politics can get. Corruption is just a side-issue here. The idea of combating corruption is laughable. Because, corruption is not a political disease in the first place. It is societal. It has sipped in our nerves.

A friend’s mom was running for public office and I’ve been helping them distribute leaflets. We were wandering on some rural area passing print-outs AND telling people to VOTE. Then a man came up to us. He asked whether the folded leaflet contains some “palaman” in it. My friend just smiled and said “smile lang kuya, atsaka SERBISYO.” So you see, the problem is not the dirty politicians ONLY. It includes the people. You can’t fool someone if he/she is not willing to be fooled anyway.

Corruption has planted its roots in our system. And I tell you, it’s IMPOSSIBLE to give it up. Another thing is the APATHY of the people. Especially the YOUTH. I know a lot of people who have given up with this dirty game. What's worse is that they think that EVEN if they vote, nothing would change. And who are these people? They are the well-off and the poor. Why? The rich does not carry whether their next-door squatter neighbor eats roaches for breakfast; because that is not their problem. What the hell – they can afford to eat fifty times a day! So they don’t give a damn whether a lot of people starve. And then there are the people on the lowest strata of the societal pyramid: the poor. Because of insufficient knowledge and NEED, majority of the people have lost hope. They are the primary customers for vote-buying. They don’t think of the long-term effects. Their mindset goes like this: “as long as this politician hands me money, I give him my vote.” They don’t care if the said politician would then loot their goods in the future, who knows if they’re still alive by then from starvation! They live for today. That’s why they see their future blurry. Some aren’t even sure if they would still live tomorrow.

So this leaves me with the middle class. The THINKING CLASS. The middle class is the thinking class because they are coerced to think. They care and SHOULD care because they are those directly involved. They are not extremely poor not to think of tomorrow. And they are not extremely rich to be so sure of it either. So the least they can do is something to keep their situation stable.

So what is the problem? The problem is that, the middle class is starting to lose hope also. This should not be. This should NEVER be. The youth is VERY, VERY PASSIVE nowadays.

We.Need.To.Change.This.
No matter how hopeless the case may be.

See? Philippine politics IS problematic. To the deepest core. And there are quite a lot of answers regarding this problem. Such includes COMMUNISM, suggesting CIVIL WAR, and my personal favorite, conducting mass killings. Haha, I kid.

But seriously, I still believe there’s this teeny-weeny ray of hope left for our beloved country. The answer is on the young people. And I mean it.

What we need is to hear fresh ideas. Because honestly, this generation is booming with opinions. Smart opinions, as a matter of fact. The only problem is that, we are not given enough avenue to support this. And also because, majority of the youth are so apathetic to what is happening around them. This may be very cliché-ic, but we do have the world in our hands. We just need to work on it. And we can start by being responsible. Responsible enough to choose for our future. Responsible enough to vote. Wisely.

And with this, I salute those who participated in the past election. To those who braved the long lines of registration in the COMELEC. To those who thought carefully. To those who made THE choice. I would do that too! But unfortunately, I can't.

So, I pour my sentiments in this blog. For not being able to help hone a helpless country. For being helpless myself.

Just for being underaged. Grr.

TGFT (Thank God For Tags)

2007-05-07T01:51:00.000+08:00

4 JOBS I’VE HAD
Housemaid (Uh-huh. I can pass for an OFW in Dubai. Summer time is ENSLAVING-BAM-TIME at home. I do all the chores. MINUS the salary! What could be worse!?)
Webteam Member
Pseudo-freelance Writer
Election Campaign Manager (And I'm not even 18 yet! Tsk.)

4 MOVIES I’VE WATCHED OVER & OVER
My Sassy Girl
Windstruck
Il Mare (yeah I looooooooooooooooove Jun Ji-hyun!)
300

4 PLACES I’VE LIVED
Cotabato City
Davao
Kusiong
Dreamland (Oh yeah!)

4 TV SHOW/STATIONS I LIKE TO WATCH
Alice Gakuen
WWE
Myx Hit Charts (hehe.. :P)
National Geographic

4 PLACES I’VE BEEN ON VACATION
Davao
Kusiong
Tacurong
Paglas (You may never heard some of these places, but yes, they do exist)

4 OF MY FAVE FOODS
CHEESE!
Potatoes
Chicken
Pasta

4 PLACES I’D RATHER BE RIGHT NOW
Minute Burger (Midnight Snack!)
My room (Have to pack my bags!)
Home (uh-huh... i'm coming, I'M COMING!)
Near "him" (I'm going home tomorrow. And I won't be back until last week of May. He's going to Cebu at the end of this week. And he won't be back until September. *sniff*)

4 PEOPLE WHO WILL (hopefully) RESPOND TO THIS MEME GAME
Ychel
Rian
Kevs
Tea

----

Thanks for the tag Avy. To keep cobwebs away. Hopefully.

Can't think of anything to do. Frozen braincells. Going on a pseudo-hiatus. Activities to be posted when sanity returns.

Stupidity and Summer Suicide Symptoms

2007-04-24T02:26:00.000+08:00

WARNING: I'm getting emo, the song playing is Yellow Butterfly by Meg and Dia. Hehe.

Oh yes, I won't forget this year's April.

The first half of summer break is supposed to be fun. But what happened with me is the exact opposite. Uh-huh. I know it's a product of my irresponsibility and carelessness. I wish that would be the last time I would feel that kind of feeling. I wish that no one I know would experience what I just had.

The best materials for a well-planned suicide. The perfect storm. But I love you, kids, so let's chase those suicidal thoughts.

When would you know it's time to raise the alarm level and seek assistance for an upcoming calamity? Worry not, I made a list of the symptoms for the worst kind of disease there is: ITDITA (I Think Death Is The Answer).

Ask help when you feel the following:
- The time wherein you will feel that all sad songs were created for you.
- Wherein you feel that the only hope remaining is when you'll finally lay down six feet under.
- It's when you cried oceans that if your tear ducts ever had voices, they'd probably sue you for abusing them.
- When you go home at DAWN so that you can skip the forlornness brought by the "few minutes before bedtime" paranoia.
- It's when you feel that a plug has been pulled out from your stomach. Draining your energy and happiness away.
- You smile, laugh, roll over, and shout for joy. The you will suddenly feel your spine tingling when reality snaps back at your face.
- It's when you get fascinated by the gentle breeze, only it would be bitter cold (ten degrees colder than the usual temperature) when you finally found yourself enjoying it.
- You feel the urge to FORGET everything. Forget your problem. Forget your life.

*sigh* I'm soooo glad it's over. Actually, this is the real reason of my hiatus. Let me tell you a story.

"Not so long ago, there is this stupid girl who finds happiness in a world of damnation. This girl suffers from extreme internal conflict. She's a pessimist and an optimist at the same time. The difference is that, she becomes optimistic when everything is ABSOLUTELY hopeless. She existed for seventeen years in her hapless living full of self-denial. She claims rationality but she is uberly-immature.

A day before their final exams, her mother gave her money for her tuition. But having the natural, pathetic instinct to be lazy, she gave up after seeing the long line of people at the Finance office. She didn't claim her permit as almost all her final exams were of paperworks. Some people told her that teachers do not release a student's grade if the student does not have a permit. But since she's a hard-headed git, she shook the idea from her mind and continued living amidst the guilt gnawing her being. She will just pay after exams. When the lines were not long enough.

So the girl continued her life. Having returned from a 5-day vacation, she learned that her teachers did release her grades. Was she happy! Thinking that she has made it. But, alas, fate is harsh to morons. One day, she was hit by an extreme IM-THE-GREATEST-IDIOT attack. She realized that she lost her ATM CARD holder. In the damned holder were her ATM CARD and her TUITION IN CASH. So the stupid girl, wandered helplessly for days not knowing where to find TWELVE THOUSAND BUCKS for her future.

A friend told her that she could pay until June 1, and that it is quite a long period of time and that she will eventually get what she lost. A week after, the same friend informed her that the university will be passing grades to the Commission on Higher Education on April 24. Thus, her two-month extension was cut in half. She has to pay her tuition or else her grades won't be verified by the CHED. That means, she has to take back all the subjects she enrolled last semester. Making her A SEMESTER LATE. Which would probably make her graduate LATER than usual.

The girl won't allow this of course. So she tried looking for jobs. If she was just an inch more of a moron, she could have gone to prostitution. But thanks be to God, amidst her stupidity, her pride is above sea-level so she ditched the stupid idea.

After a month of worrying, large eye bags, oceans of tears, text messages to other networks, unending sermon from her grandmother, and continuous blaming from her mom, she managed to pay a day before April 24. "

And that's the end of the darkest chapter of her inconsolable, miserable life as of the moment.

Brrr.. See? I should be walking with the word DUNCE all over me. I am soooooooooooooooooooooo stupid! I still owe my aunt some money.

So I have to find a job. FAST.

Curse laziness! Argh!

Some Funny Things

2007-04-01T00:05:00.000+08:00

OH YEAH!

I'm typing again! Haha! It's been ages since my last post, and after a million blog-free minutes and tagboard messages, I realized that the most difficult time to blog is usually after a long hiatus. Two reasons:

1. FIRST SHOCK - Unfamiliarity seeps in your veins as you ogle at your blogpad. You suddenly wonder how on earth did something you once used as an instrument in propagating your evil thoughts became a foreign object.
2. SECOND SHOCK - You get over the first shock but then you can't seem to find the "spark". The spark ie the sudden rush of adrenaline you used to experience back in your blog-a-holic moments. The spark can be characterized as the igniting power that would then get your cerebellum working in full speed that you will be amazed, at least once, on how your fingers seem to find the perfect words you're looking for. But after a hiatus, you will feel the "withdrawal symptoms" of blogging. Which usually results to you developing a sloth-like manner of typing and thinking. Thus, your next post will be so long that it could pass as a manuscript for all the Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter books there is.

But I do wish my post won't be that long. Hehe. So to prevent such things from happening, I've set a certain topic for this post.

I've attended a wedding last March 25. A Muslim Wedding to be precise.

Uh-huh. My religion is Islam. So contrary to the popular belief that the media feeds us, we are not a bunch of folks who make a living by slaying people who don't share the same faith as us. We surf the net, we post bulletins in Friendster, we devour meals in buffet restaurants (snobbing the pork, of course), we play sudoku, we breathe the same air, walk the same land, watch the same stupid programs on TV, we go to school, we read books, we know ENGLISH, and we BLOG. Basically, we're all the same. And I find it amusing how non-Muslims would fret whenever they would know that someone is a Muslim. And then it seems as if they've contracted Alzheimer's, forgetting that they ever met the person.

But we really should not be talking about those people. If they are easily affected by things they thought should be, it only proves that they were shallow-minded, fickle, and etc. *insert all words synonymous with stupid here*

So back to the wedding.

I'm not really religious and all that. I believe in my faith. And for me that's enough. My mom and me would usually quarrel on how I tend to disregard some Islamic practices. She dislikes the idea of me playing the guitar. She claims that she heard it in an usyatan (stupid people teaching "Islamic practices" on radio) that it is nonreligious, and that God said that we should read the Qur'an instead of playing the guitar. What the!? Who made all those rules? Surely not God. Was the guitar even invented during the proclamation of Muhammad? Or did God just texted those people saying 'O ye shalt ban thy guitar as Bam fails to read the Holy book because of this instrument of evil and distraction!' Har har.

I'm not stupid. We all know RELIGION is VERY political. I'm not saying that religion is BAD. It is the PEOPLE in it that makes it so. This people, who claims that they are followers of the Supreme Being, set rules they want. Thus, manipulating the people who are gullible enough in submitting to such ridiculous practices. And what are ridiculous practices am I referring to? One word: PATRIARCHY.

Yes. This is basically what our forefathers (OMG. Forefathers? Patriarchy at work) left us. To believe that the male being is smarter, stronger, BETTER than all else. Religion and society are two very powerful institutions, and it's scary how these two are juxtaposed on some places. The Philippines can be the best example. We were and still are struggling to get away from the clasp of our traditional conservative past. A very patriarchal past wherein men are given premium over women. And this argument leads us back to my topic, the WEDDING. (See? Post-hiatus sickness)

It was my second-cousin's wedding. I don't know her. *innocent grin* HONESTLY. My grandmother just summoned me to be her proxy as she can't attend the said occasion. She's a sponsor. Aya, like me, was there in place of someone else. So we were the official SUPERPROXIES of the millennium. Our aunts tagged us as PROXIma Centauris. Very funny.

There are quite a number of funny things in that wedding.

1st funny thing: Our cousin, the bride, is actually the THIRD wife of her groom. The funny part is, the groom looks like a premature catfish. We were snickering on the thought of the wedding having an "Under the Sea" theme.
2nd funny thing: We were reading the invitations. The list of Principal Sponsors were Über-long. The list were full of old people. We were betting that the couple does not even know half of them. It was their parent's job. I solemnly swear that if I ever have my wedding, I will not allow my parents to tinker with the invitations. I'll be inviting people I KNOW. And I don't care if the elders would mock me. Hello? Do I know them? It's my wedding anyway. Not my mom's.
3rd funny thing: PATRIARCHY at work.

This is the funniest part. There is a certain segment in a wedding when a brother of the bride (usually the father when no brother is present), will talk to the groom and is supposed to give advice. So the brother of the bride went up the stage, grabbed the mic and start blabbing about something that goes like this:

"They say, that we men, should look for a woman. A good woman to be exact. And what are the requisites of a good woman? It is when she is beautiful, wealthy, and faithful. Lucky is the man who finds a beautiful wife. Blessed is the one who gets a beautiful and wealthy wife. But all grace is on the man who gets a beautiful, wealthy, and faithful wife. For even without the first two, the last can stand. Now even if your wife is all these three, it is much better to find a woman who can give you children. What good is being beautiful, wealthy, and faithful if she can't bore your kin, right? Hahahaha!"

I think he's joking. Funny thing is, I don't find it funny.

I would then love to jump up my seat, ran into the stage and smash his head into pieces, if only I'm not wearing heels. Aya sensed my feelings so she pointed to my phone and told me to pour my angst into it. And that's exactly what I did. Text Karla about my overpowering wrath.

I know Islam respects women. But what the brother said was obviously from the way societal norms are injected into his teeny-weeny brain. Objectifying women! Like duh. Women are not created for reproduction. We are not objects. We do not need to be controlled. We have minds of our own. We are FREE.

Am I just thankful the Sponsor's list does not have someone from Gabriela in it. Tsk. And I'm also thankful that the food served is delicious. The joys of free hotel food! It drove the anger away. I'm thankful that Adheng and me were in good terms again, after the knife-throwing appearance two Decembers ago.

And I'm thankful that I'm BLOGGING AGAIN! Whew! :)

Summer Brainfreeze: Hiatus Mode On

2007-03-29T15:34:00.000+08:00

Summer Break! Hiatus Mode! I'll try posting if I have free time. I'll be back! :)

Inside Outland

2007-03-28T01:48:00.000+08:00

Life is a great adventure.

The motto of Outland Adventure. Indeed. So memorable. :) March 26. A day to remember.

I was with Jane for three days (and nights) in a row. Last Friday, the break-down moment, I slept at their boarding house. Saturday implies FOOD galore! We slept at Pam's. Uraya Fiesta! And last Sunday, I missed her mom and dad so I went with her to Panabo. Haha! I'm the official palaboy of the new millenium. Haha!

My phone is the official inutil phone of the year. The LCD cracked, so I can't ~~read~~ see the messages, the numbers, the TIME. In short, I can't see EVERYTHING. The Outland Adventure was scheduled for Monday and we are about to meet at 6:30 am. Since I have no clock with me, I went with Jane all the way to their house in Panabo. Wahahaha!

I always knew not to trust Ateneans. Haha! That supposed-to-be 6:30 became 8:30. And after fourteen of the expected twenty-five came, we took off. We fetched three more others along the way and proceeded to Maa Diversion Road for the great adventure.

"Leave your worries behind."

That's the first rule as what Kuya Tata said. He is the manager of Outland Adventure. With him are other facilitators, John, Ian (James Yap look-alike says Ate Cherrie), and Sir James Gatchailan. They looked so simple and approachable. Trust me, my jaw dropped when I learned that Sir James was actually THE OWNER of Blugre. Tsk. Amazing. They were a happy bunch. They scared us out of our wits when they showed us the waiver. Indicating that they would not be liable if ever somebody got hurt or DIED. Migawd. How can I leave my worries with that?

But with God's grace, nobody got hurt at the end of the day. The whole day was divided to two. Morning will be for the "low elements" and the afternoon are for the "high elements". We had some "easy" games in the morning. After the challenges, they would brief us about the insights we learned and such. Trust. Humility. Unity. Faith. Courage. Those were just some of the things we learned.

Here's the list of the LOW ELEMENTS tasks.

~ Trustfall - you are asked to stand in a platform three feet above the ground, turn your back and let yourself FALL LIKE A LOG. Your groupmates are going to stand in line to catch you. This may seem very easy. But TRUST me, the falling feeling is NERVE-WRECKING. You're expected to FALL LIKE A LOG. No bendings allowed. This might seem like a piece of cake for cheerleaders. But what the heck, I am no cheerleader. The scariest part is the middle of the fall. I was like, "OH MY GOD! WHERE ARE THE HANDS THAT ARE SUPPOSED TO CATCH ME!" And the happiest moment is when you would feel your back touching the palms of your groupmates. Safety and security at last! Hahaha!
Insight: It tells us about trust. Even if we know that someone is going to catch us, we could not help doubting about their presence. Trust is a bilateral agreement. You can never trust someone who is not willing to KEEP your trust. And that someone cannot get your trust if you are not willing to give it at the first place. Trust, like pride, is rare. You cannot give it to anybody else. And trust would never exist without faith. Because it is that faith that keeps the trust unbroken.

~ THE Wall - I don't know if this has a name but we call this The Wall challenge. There is this fifteen-feet high wall that we have to climb. We can not use anything. No ropes, no ladders, no anything. Just ourselves. This is a group work. There are eight of us in the group. After strategizing for 1 MINUTE, we became "pseudo-cheerleaders" for a moment and started making human pyramids. After a million gasps and sweatdrops, all of us managed to climb except Elly. Elly is the largest person in the group. He was the one carrying the "climber" so he was the last to climb. We tried everything to get him. That includes Kat hanging herself from the wall so that Elly could hold her feet and climb. But since we can't hold Elly's weight and we're running out of time (yes, there's a time limit [20 minutes]), he waved his white flag.
Insight: The wall symbolizes the problems in life. There are no walls too high if everyone is helping one another. No matter how high a wall is, someone would eventually give a hand for you to climb on. This someone may take the shape of a friend, or a family member. But usually, it is God who extends His arm for us to hold on. We just don't realize it. We applauded ourselves for making it to the top of the wall. But in all the cheers, Elly got the loudest. Sometimes, you just have to let go of your dreams. And it takes great courage to say no. It takes strength to admit that you are weak. It takes a hell lot of that.

~ The Log - we sat down a log while listening to Sir James. We thought it was there for "relaxation" purposes. We were wrong. Hehe. The rules? We were asked to stand on the log. When we finally did, we are asked to line regarding the order of our birthdays. Those whose birthday comes first should be on the right side. We are supposed to arrange ourselves WITHOUT falling off the log. If somebody fell, we would be asked to repeat the process all over again. We only have three chances. Whew! That was quite difficult. Given that the log was thin enough for one pair of feet. What we did was, someone would sit down so that the other can pass above him/her. And after a few shouts and steppings, we did it. Nobody fell so we got it on the first try.
Insight: Humility is strength. Being humble and stooping down for others to step on you is difficult. But if everyone would be humble enough, no work is that difficult. Crab mentality is very popular to Filipinos. If only we are humble enough to put a stop to this, all would end well. Humility is not a sign of weakness. It is actually a manifestation of strength. It is when you are strong enough that you share your strength to others. So that they may achieve the same pedestal you are resting on.

After the morning activities, we ate a meta-satisfying lunch. Buttered chicken and chopseuy! Yumyum!

The afternoon activities were filled with "high elements" challenges. We are then taught how to use a lifeline (harness, helmets, and the caradaber/cabarader/carabar --- Urgh! Whatever) I tried the trapeze jump, catwalk, vertical playpen, and the zipwire.

High Elements:
~ Trapeze Jump - this is absolutely scary! You have to climb a twenty feet platform, shout your greatest goal or ambition, jump and tap a ball hanging from a rope five meters away from you. And these are the actual reactions.

My turn
Me: WORLD DOMINAAAAAAAATION! Hahaha! Joke. Gusto ko maging ambassador sa -- sa --- wherever! Maski asa! Talon na ako... 1.. 2.. Waaah. Kuya, sandali lang. *deep breath* One, two.. Waaaah.. Kelangan talaga to? *sniff* (WORLD DOMINAAAAAAAATION! Hahaha! Joke. I want to be the ambassador to-- to --- whereve! I'm jumping... 1.. 2.. Waaah! Sir, wait. *deep breath* One, two.. Waaaah.. Do I really have to do this?)
Jane: Huy Bam! Ambak na buh! Wahahahaha! Nangluspad lagi ka! (C'mon Bam! Jump! Wahahahaha! You're turning pale!)
Pam: Hahaha! Si Bam na isog kaayo nangluspad! (Hahaha! Brave Bam is pale!)
Me: Moambak na jud ko! Isa, dalawa... Waaah! Pam! Taas au siya! Kut-tabareeeeeeee! *jumps* (I'm jumping! One, two... Waaah! Pam! It's so high!)

Pam's turn
After reaching the platform, Pam hugged the post. FOR FIVE MINUTES.
Jane: Huy pam! Naa ka dira para moambak! Dili para gakoson ang kahoy! (Hey Pam! You're there to jump! Not to hug the post!)
Me: Wahahaha! Nangluspad man pud gani ka! Pam! Ambak na! (Wahahaha! You're turning pale too! Pam! Jump!)
Pam: Baaaaaaam! Jaaaaaaaaaaaaane! Mobaba jud ko! Mobaba jud ko! (Baaaaaaam! Jaaaaaaaaaaaaane! I'm climbing down! I promise, I'll climb down!)
Me: Baba na! Ambak na! Hahaha! (Come on! Jump! Hahaha!)
Pam: Seryoso ko ba. Mobaba jud ko dira sa hagdanan. (I'm serious. I'm climbing down.)
Jane: Ay sus pam! Naa na ka dira! Kaya mo yan! (For God's sake Pam! You're already there. You can do it!)
Pam: Takot baya ko sa heights! (I'm scared of heights!)
Me and Jane: Sige na bah! (Just do it!)
Pam: *gulp* *sign of the cross* *jumps*
PS. PAM. is. an. ATHEIST. Hahahaha.

Jane's turn
Jane: Hihihi.. Hala! Taas bitaw siya! (Hihihi... It really IS high!)
Me: Go Jane! Ambak na! (Jump!)
Jane: Moshagit nakog goal? Err... WORLD PEEEEEEACE! (Should I shout my goal now?)
SSE people: CHAR!
Jane: Hehe.. One, two.. Err... Pam! Bam!
Pam: Wahahaha! Nangluspad si Jane! Piktyuri Bam! (Jane turned pale! Take her picture Bam!)
Jane: Waaah! Di nako kaya! (I can't do it!)
Me: Kaya yan! Nakaya nga ni Pam! (Of course you can! Pam did it!)
Jane: sige na.. 1, 2, 3! *jumps* OUTLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND! SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!
Me: Hahahaha! Nagmura si Jane! Pam! Narinig mo yun? Nagmura sa Jane! (Jane cursed! Pam! You heard it? Jane actually swore!)
Pam: Bwahahahahaha! Oo. Hahaha! Kabalo diay siya ana. Hehe. (Bwahahahahaha! Yah! She knows how to swear afterall. Hehe.)

~ The Catwalk - It is the "high" version of THE LOG. This time, you have to climb twenty feet high and walk the plank of death. Hehe. I kid. You have to cross to the other side then get back to the middle and jump.

My turn
Fact: I climb FAST.
SSE people: Aba, aba! Paspas au mosaka! Excited!
Me: *after reaching the top* Toink. Hala. Waaaah! Pam! Piktyuri ko! Hehe. *talking to myself* Hmm.. Ngano gakurog man ko? Di man ako takot sa heights. Pero bakit ako natatakot. Urgh. Kaya ko to! Kaya ko to! Hala. Hindi ko na talaga tawanan yung mga takot sa height. Weird lagi to. Waaah..
Pam: Hala! Ginakausap na niya ang kanyang sarili. Naku. Tsk.
Me: Kuyaaaa! Gakurog ko! Kuya! Sandali lang. Wala akong sense of balance!
Kuya Facilitator: Ok lang walay balance kesa walay sense!
Me: Waaaaaah! Daya!
*after reaching the other side and going back to the middle*
Me: Whew! Kaya ko na to! Mygad! Kaya ko na to! Kuya! Magtalon na ako!
Kuya: Go!
Me: Hala Kuya! Mabigat baya ako!
Kuya: Ok lang. Madami kami dito. Tumalon ka na!
Me: Ok. 1, 2... Ay teka! Pam! Picture-an moko! Hehe.

Pam's turn
Pam: Aw. f****. Ang taas!
Me: Hoy Pam! Bibig mo ba! Hehe. Kaya yan! Whooo!
Jane: Go Pam!
*Pam crosses the bridge without looking down*
Pam: Oi! Dili nako mobalik!
Me: Baliw! Alangan namang dyan ka lang hanggang mamaya!
Pam: Ok. Balik na ko. Whoo!
Jane: Hahaha! Pam! Pwede ka na sa Davao Light! Hehe.
Pam: Tse! Bam! Picture-i ko! Hehe.
Jane: Utro pa ni!

Jane didn't tried the Catwalk because she was amazed with the Vertical Playpen.

~ The Vertical Playpen - it's a series of rubber tires and logs arranged vertically. The goal is to reach the bell on the top. This requires two people. Jane and me were partners. We didn't have anything to say because we are too busy gasping for air. It is so difficult. Whew! It took us 48 years to reach the top. Hehe. And my arms are battered.

~ Zipwire - I'm not sure about the name of this ride. It is similar to that of the Indiana Jones ride in Eden's Nature Park. The only difference is that, the cable here is between two mountains. Hehe. We ride to the other side then walk back to the other side by crossing the river. This is my favorite "high element" challenge. I was not at all scared since we used to have a ride similar to this back in my Girl Scout Years' Challenge Valley.

That was fun!

Click the pic for the album. :)

At the end of the day, I can say it WAS an experience. It was all worth the 150Php paid to Kuya Josie (our SSE Representative). But then, we found out that the ACTUAL payment is P1,800! OMG. We saved a lot of money! The Division shouldered our bills! Bwahahahaha! We save P1,650! Whooo! The cherry on top of the cream!

Amf. What a way to start the summer break. 150 bucks is worth all the fun.

And the muscle sores. ;)

Tarzan = Alpha-female

2007-03-26T18:36:00.002+08:00

Just One Of Those Things
Meg and Dia

Give me a minute
I need a second
Got to breathe there
It's just one of those things

Wish I could tell you
How much I need you
And how much you
Need me to go

Please don't listen
to what I'm gonna tell you
Look in my eyes and know
I simply had to give up
But I didn't let go without struggle
you know, I still love you
It's just, just one of those things

I know I made it seem
Like all was written down
And I hid all my pain
And now I bring it out

And you'll be scared at first
cuz it's such an ugly blow
I don't know which is worse
to learn or not to know

Please don't listen
to what I'm gonna tell you
Look in my eyes and know
I simply had to give up
But I didn't let go without struggle
you know, I still love you
It's just, just one of those things

Please don't listen
to what I'm gonna tell you
Look in my eyes and know
I simply had to give up
But I didn't let go without struggle
you know, I still love you
It's just, it's just one of those things

I tried to tell you a million times
That you have always been one of us
I tried to tell you a million times
You have always been one of us

Please don't listen
(I tried to tell you a million times
That you have always been one of us)
Please don't listen
(I tried to tell you a million times
That you have always been one of us)
Please don't listen....

Oooh. The song of the moment. It's kinda emo, I know. I told you. Something funny is going on. Here's a video of the song. It's actually a fanvid so never mind the video in itself. It's the song that matters anyway. :)

And yes, I have a confession. (Oh please Lord, don't let people I know, read this.) Hehe.

Whew. OK. Last Friday, I finally felt how it is like to end your life. The problems are just too heavy that I felt the need to break down. I need to let EVERYTHING out. Guilt, melancholy, forlorness, depression, betrayal.

The Marco Polo towers above the vast horizon. I was in a trance. I wondered how would it feel to climb all the way to the top and jump down the busy street of Roxas. It's weird. I can see myself walking towards there. I can see myself jumping. I can see myself falling. Maybe I am an isolated case. I can feel suicide. But I don't want to die. Duh. I still have a world to change. Hehe. Pride CAN help. I'm too proud to admit defeat. I'm too proud to quit. I'm too proud to die. And I'm proud of it. :P

But pride isn't enough. Sometimes, when everything fails, even if you still have yourself and your pride with you, you will constantly need a hand to catch you. Or at least, to lessen the bruises in case you fall. It may come in many manifestations. And I found mine in friendship.

It's a jungle here. And even if I'm not Tarzan, I don't think I would make it if it wasn't for Jane. Even if we are of different communication networks, she managed to pull me from the pit. And if it wasn't for her. Even if it's pure serendipity (kidding), I don't think I could hang on anymore.

And I thank God for her.

PS: Brr... Forgive me, I'm still on the state of a pseudo-psychiatric coma. Wahaha! I'll be blogging on again if I regained full control of my cerebellum.

Of Pride and The Little Prince

2007-03-22T16:53:00.000+08:00

I just passed my Philo Paper. Hahaha! I want to post it here, but it is quite long. 3 pages, Times New Roman, 1.5 spacing. And to think that I have meta-small fonts.

It is actually about the integration of our Philosophy articles in the context of the Little Prince. I'll just post the URL to my pseudo-site for all those who aren't afraid of small scrollbars and those who fancies the thought of juxtaposing literature and the human mind. :)

Click here for the link. :)

Basically, I did nothing today but fuss over five chapters on the book Fundamentals of Political Economy. For FIVE hours. Urgh! Headache! And Karla became pseudo-suicidal. Err.. She and Ed has been pestering me yesterday about my intolerable PRIDE.

Just this morning, I realized, Pride has the letter "I" in the middle. Aha! Egoism! Being self-centered. But then again, that is really how things go. PRIDE is essential to being. It is the extension of one's self. If you lose EVERYTHING, the only thing that is left with you is your pride. Pride is tasteless and odorless. But it is the hardest thing to swallow. Giving up your pride is something rare. And you always, always choose the people to whom you offer it.

Because the truth is, everyone is just going to HURT you.

You just have to decide who is WORTH THE PAIN.

The Uber-late report of the Blogger's Party and 300

2007-03-21T22:00:00.000+08:00

The First Ever Davao Blogger's Party happened last Saturday. March 17. At Netfront Cafe.

That is one miraculous night. I became a pseudo-wallflower. I decided to cut of the decibels emanating from my vocal chords. Wehehe.. I lost my tongue. Hmm..? What's there to be noisy about anyway? I really can't find an avenue for my talkative-ness as the place is basically filled with yuppies. Uh-huh.

Btw, it was a fun night. I finally met Tina and Jona. Wehehe. Hiya! And Kim and Jun were part of the organizing committee. The food is okay, though the excessive pork stuff did not, in any way, made me happy. I won a Google shirt! I learned about the etymology of Durian. I ~~met~~ saw quite a number of amazing professionals. I learned that Sir Ian is the manager of Netfront. And I slept at their uber-comfy couch while waiting for Kim to finish her internet "duties". Haha! It was cool anyway. Amazingly cool.

Thanks Sir Dominique for the pic. :)

---

I am basically at lost today. I cannot post at the MPDU forum and I am still awestruck after watching the movie 300 TWICE. It promotes Women Empowerment (Oh yeah!) and Tom Wisdom (Astinos) is waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay cute! Hahahaha! I just can't get over the cinematography, one-liners, and bloody scenes. I LOOOOOVE IT! I can watch it over and over and over again! Whew! *applause*

And yeah, something is very, VERY wrong about my hypothalamus.

A pseudo-letter for the Asylum and ADC

2007-03-17T03:39:00.000+08:00

And I call it pure coincidence that everything starts with the letter "A".

Basically, what was my life back then before I met you? A cornflower in the midst of a desert? The variable capital in a social product? The meta-curveball in a constructive speech? Whatever it is, you know the feeling is as familiar like that of your first balloon experience back in your toddler years.

I should have been writing my paper for Sir B. But, the heed for posting something about you manipulates my system. Much that my neurons were basically hyperactive after drinking that Sterilized Bear Brand thing-y right after gulping a bottle of Lipovitan. Whew. And you say Extra Joss is the official drink for debaters? Hehe.

ADC: The MPDU forum is on fire! It's funny how every thread stems down to Gay-ness. The influx of opinions and thoughts is literally rampaging. With much hear, hear from the not-so-minority group. But what does it matter? It's Women Empowerment month anyway. :) I love the forums. Though I still believe that the Karma what-have-you is an instrument for oppression. Graduating Seniors (minus Kit and Pansit), where on earth are you hiding? Kabab has never been this deserted. Much that we (Karla and me) abhor the smoke coming from your cancer sticks, I missed them. Kim, show yourself! You goin' at the Muzikfest? Mister President, I don't think I can be at the ADEP. Paperworks. It does not mean that even if my presence is hardly notified, I would be forever invisible for the club. Remember, it's FINALS week. The lovely, lovely days of suicide. Lord Kit: are you sure this Lipovitan could keep me going? And to the other people hiding beneath some Invisibility cloak, show up. Yes Jasmine, I'm referring to you. Haha! I miss you! Take a break from nurturing your eyebags. And bring Manabat along. We should get together sometime. How about schicha? (Whatever the spelling might be) We need to celebrate. Kristine Uy is EATING again! :)

Asylum: Am I just glad everything is back to normal. I thought I would be losing all my positive chakra. My irrefutable energy is gradually deteriorating. See what happens when two relationships break down at the same time? Juxtapose within-ness and without-ness from these encounters. Karla's right. I do need affirmation every now and then. Though it is implicitly implied, you know how much we value this. Err.. implicit? I take that.

At the end of the day, what I'm trying to say is... Haha! I'm sounding like Kenn! Whatever. Screen saver. With a shadow. With a glow-glow. With all the props the ADC could even think of.

I love you with all my hypothalamus. :)

For the LOVE of Wisdom

2007-03-13T00:52:00.000+08:00

The effects of Philosophy. Tsk.

Too much rationalizing. Hehe.

I can't help but purge my brain for something insightful. That's what I usually do when I have nothing else to do. I think.

And with those thinking sessions, I came up with something worth reflecting to. For me.

Love is a choice. It is, primarily and basically, a choice. It is you who decides whether to love or not. You can fall in love with anybody. Falling in love is different to love itself. Everyone has a notion of love. Some people may categorize love as an inexplainable emotion felt with someone. The way their hearts skip a beat, or when they feel that "somebody takes their breath away". If someone satisfies your idea of love, you may have fallen in love with that person. But then again, there is a nuance to the situation. Falling in love becomes a myth in search for true love.

You can fall in in love with different people. You can even fall in love with more than one at the same time. So how can you say that you LOVE the person and you're not simply IN love with him?

Here enters the notion of choice. You choose. You choose whether you would want to love that person or not.

Love is never a happy word. Love is coterminous with suffering, pain, and sacrifice. And that is what makes it a choice. When you choose to accept a person despite EVERYTHING, that is love. When you choose to love, you CHOOSE to be hurt. You CHOOSE to suffer. You CHOOSE to sacrifice.

Love is sacred. And so is commitment. Commitment symbolizes the decision to love. You can love a person without committing, but you can never commit yourself to that person without love. Commitment marks love. It symbolizes your decision. Commitment in a relationship need not to be hard work. It does not require anything but love. That itself is enough.

Love is willing. Love is rare. It does not happen all the time. It does not happen in an instant. It takes time. Because it takes time to decide.

So how do you realize that you LOVE someone? You don't know it.

You just do. :)

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The Parable of the One-Legged Man

2007-03-11T02:24:00.001+08:00

"Saying 'I won't leave you' does not necessarily mean sticking with the person forever. It just means you'll never leave that person ALONE."

I ~~said~~ texted this to Karla in our International Political Economy this morning. See what happens when your academic problem and inconsistent social relationships decided to pester your life? Tsk. There has been a major misunderstanding between Ed and moi. Hah, and he calls himself my bestfriend. Boys. Tsk. No matter how you spoon-feed them with your ideas, they'll never be able to get you. Girls and GAYS are easier task. I remember what Ate Marj has once said,

"The sheer number of gay people are proof of a higher state of evolution. The gays exhibit decidedly feminine characteristics, which indicates that they are evolving to the more advanced sex of the human species. Higher intelligence leads to a certain feminization because it's the more advanced thing to do.

Seriously, everyone starts in life as female, it's the default sex. Only when your teeny-weeny Y chromosome starts secreting androgens as a fetus do you turn male."

Hah! I see raised eyebrows. I don't care, it's Women Empowerment Month anyway. :P

So back to the topic, Karla said that it isn't anybody's job to secure that nobody is alone.

Yes, I concede to that. But given the context that we are talking about the concept of friendship. Friendship is the cementing of two souls, as they say. Camaraderie. So basically what does that mean? I remember how I use to preach Paola about the One-Legged Man: my analogy of friendship.

We are all trekking our own roads in life. Basically, everybody is walking on one leg. We need the help of someone so as we can move forward. We call this someone, a friend. We stick together through thick and thin. Without the other, the other may never make it. On some parts of the road, we switch partners. But, the essence is that we STILL NEED someone in order to survive.

Yes, other people may argue with this concept as juxtaposed to the idea of forlornness (as to the case of the LONERS). But then again, I say, that friendship is not only limited to creations of the same specie as yours. I certainly believe that these "loners" had at least ONE MINUTE in their lives wherein they yearned for company. Or maybe they already found it. Establishment of friendship is not merely allocated for individuals. Everybody has a best friend. Some see their pets as their best bud. Others have a certain hobby to which they pour their hearts out. And usually, when nothing else is left, people cling to their pride as a last resort. Anything that would keep them hanging on to their lives no matter how bumpy the course may be. So basically, everybody in the world is in constant need of company. Company, as defined not with the people you hang out with, but with something you do or what wherein you feel that you belong.

So, in this case, it is clear that nobody wants to be alone. Being alone is not boxed in to the idea of being anti-social. Being alone is referred here as being left with the feeling of emptiness and despair. So, how does this apply to friendship?

You see, in friendship, there is this invisible bond that ties two (or more) souls. This bond is an affirmation that whatever may happen, nobody will leave anybody. It is an assurance that when you chose this person to be with you in your journey, you subconsciously expect that he/she will not leave you in the middle of the battle. Oh, it would not be the end of the world for you, but the feeling of being left behind by someone you trusted to BE WITH YOU until you reach the next stop is like being a one-legged man dropped by another one in the middle of a race. You can crawl your way to the finish line but the journey will NEVER BE EASY.

What if there isn't any promises? Then there is no accountability between the two person? I say, there is. When you enter a relationship (ie friendship), there is this unspoken agreement between both of you. And usually these unspoken agreements are the things that hurt the most when broken. As the vow isn't bounded by ink and paper, you sign it with your trust. And with that, you gamble your emotional stability with it. Friends are different from acquaintances. Once you make someone your friend, there is this implicit promise that you will never leave each other.

But then again, one can't always be there for anybody. That is true. But as a friend, or a person who understands the value of subjectivity, isn't it better if you secure that the person will never be alone? Let's take the one-legged man's case again here.

Let's say Person A does not want to be with Person B anymore as they go through the race, Person A should not, then and there, leave Person B all by himself. The least that Person A can do is look for someone who can be with Person B along the way. If Person A still values the trust vested by Person B upon him, he should be responsible in looking for someone who could fulfill his task in case he does not feel fit to do it anymore.

Friendship does not require sticking with the person until the end even if you don't want to. It means assuring that person, that even if you will not be on his side, he will NEVER BE LEFT ALONE.

* This post is for all the broken friendships that marked the face of the earth. This is for the sisters who had their worst argument over a borrowed shirt. This is for the brothers who forgot their being because of sibling rivalry. This is for the lovers who quarelled over the phone because of some silly third-party. This is for the past friends who up to now still wishes to bring back the pieces but never did had the chance and the strength. This is for the best friends who forgot that comfortability should never be overlooked. This is for everyone.

This is for my friends who think that I already forgot them. This is for my bestfriend whom I wish would understand this. This is for my current friends who give meaning to my otherwise meta-pessimist life. This is for the Neurotic Saglet Asylum.

PE is history. PE Night is over and done with. Remember the night that started it all? Do you remember how we clarified this pact? That we will be together? It is a vicious cycle. Pain and healing. ACT, do not just react. Respond. Make the first move. We are all affected. After all, we know we love each other. Please. Remember Crazy Frog? Curlytops? Toothbrush? 3ms? 1R, S, S1, S2? NOBODY IS LEAVING ANYBODY. When you lost it all, your pride is the only thing left with you. But I say, nothing has been lost as of now. Nothing WILL be lost. The last thing I expect is for this friendship, this world, to fall apart.

There's still time. :)

Tagging, Codes, and More About Me

2007-03-08T18:18:00.000+08:00

Wehehehe.. Evoul Jun! I got tagged. Toink! It doesn't really bother me. As a matter of fact, tagging is good. It acts as an alternative to an otherwise blank post when procrastination and boredom strikes.

A - Available/Single? - Single. Not looking. And proud of it. Hehe. :)
B - Best Friend? - Ubal and Bax. And Karla and the Asylum. :P
C - Cake or Pie? - Pies! Pies come in different varieties. Pies can be Fruit Pies or Meat Pies. Yum! Wahahaha!
D - Drink Of Choice? - Bottomless Ice Tea. Or plain water. Having a temperature not exceeding 4°C.
E - Essential Item You Use Everyday? - Pen, Paper, and a Bag (contains yet more pens and paper)
F - Favorite Colour? - Any shade of Brown and Purple
G - Gummy Bears Or Worms? - Gummy Bears! It's sugar-coated. Variety of textures.
H - Hometown? - Cotabato City. Enough said. I love this place. Bwahahahaha!
I - Indulgence? - FOOD. BOOKS. NET.
J - January Or February? - January. February is a busy month. Paperworks and other gibberish. January is a period of adjustment after the Yuletide season. Relax, relax, RELAX.
K - Kids & Their Names? - Toink. I don't have one. But I already thought of a name, Sidonie Shekin.
L - Life Is Incomplete Without? - "I". Hahaha! Egoistic! Btw, Life is incomplete without the UPS and DOWNS.
M - Marriage date? - later.
N - Number Of Siblings? - 3. A sister - Sharmaine and 2 pesky brothers (kidding) - Ammar and Muaz. I'm the eldest (and the cutest). I love them. Though it may not be that obvious. ^^
O - Oranges Or Apples? - Oranges. More accessible. They are more chew-able than apples. Hehe. See how lazy I can be?
P - Phobias/Fears? -WORMS. Not necessarily fear. I just find them icky. *vomits*
Q - Favorite Quote? - "A life without challenge is a life not lived. Of all the challenges, the greatest is to be yourself."
R - Reason to Smile? - life in itself.
S - Season? - Autumn. But since there is no fall here, I guess I'd just stick to summer. Summer break! :)
T - Tag people? - hmmm...? *think, think* Ychel (sorry!), Tina, Avy, and Giovanne.
U - Unknown Fact About Me? - I am fascinated with the moon. And I call her Cynthia. I talk to her ABOUT her (and it's like talking to myself). Hehe. Yeah, I AM a lunatic after all.
V - Vegetable you don't like? - Okra. Urgh.
W - Worst Habit? - Aye, aye Jun! PROCRASTINATION. Tsk.
X - X-rays You've Had? - Lungs. Hehe. I used to have 61% of my lungs working properly back in grade 6. My mom scolded me because instead of getting the oh-my-god-mommy-I'm-gonna-die attitude that she expected, I quipped, "At least hindi less than 50%!" *wide grin*
Y - Your Favorite Food? - Coffee. Potatoes, Cheese, and Chicken. :)
Z - Zodiac Sign? - Gemini. Haha! This is sooooooooo true. Tells a lot about me.

--O--

Benjo, I have here some of my "calligraphic scraps". Hehe. Good luck in deciphering the code. :P

Everything is getting weirder and WEIRDER.

2007-03-06T19:26:00.000+08:00

Tagged by Tina. Through Coercion. Hehe.

RULES:
"Each player of this game starts off with ten weird things or habits or little known facts about yourself. People who get tagged must write in a blog of their own ten weird things or habits or little known facts as well as state this rule clearly. At the end you must choose six people to be tagged and list their names. No tagbacks!"

1. If ANNIHILATING fingertips is a crime, I would have been facing the death penalty by now. Unlike other people who bite their NAILS, I, on the other hand, bite the SKIN on the tip. Or sometimes, I just peel them off. It doesn't hurt or what, but I admit, it IS WEIRD. Honestly, I don't know where this habit came from. It became worse when I had Wendy (my guitar). Since playing guitar toughens the skin of the fingertips, I find it easier (and more enjoyable) to rip them. Hehehe.

2. When I was in my grade school years, I could be the craziest spermologist if you ever saw one. A spermologist, by the way, is a person who collects trivia. Back then, I used to have a notebook where I put in every bit of information I can find. (See what I mean?) I can still remember when Princess Diana died. I was in Grade Three then. During those times, when everybody else is busy playing hopscotch or the ever-famous "dampa", I was on one corner lamenting over the probable instability that may befall the British monarchy because of the said incident. Not quite normal for an eight-year old, huh? I can still recall the time when my classmates and me played PANTS (Place, Animal, Name, Things) together. I almost punched one of them because they won't believe that Papua New Guinea is a place. And there is also a time back in high school when I was ostracized by the class because I kept on badgering everyone about the events of the Trojan War. Today, I don't write trivia as I did before but I still make time to read about interesting news and such.

3. I love taking my shoes off in class. Hahahaha! I'm probably the only person in AdDU who does that. Err.. well, guys do that, but I'm pretty sure I'm the only GIRL who does that. Oh, I know it's not "lady-like". But since when have I been "lady-like"? Besides, I'm more comfortable if I sit cross-legged than the usual slouch-like-a-lazy-student posture.

4. I NEVER (stress never) read my textbooks. I dig atlases and encyclopedias. But textbooks? It's a no-no! I don't understand but I really can't bring myself into reading such things. Why do I have to read if the teacher already lectured it in class?

5. Like Tina, I write everything I like when I read a novel. I have a notebook which contains ALL the sayings/lessons there is on The Five People You Met In Heaven by Mitch Albom.

6. After reading the Da Vinci Code, I became so inspired with Da Vinci's different writing styles that I developed my own too. If Da Vinci can write backwards, I can write backward-upside down. I perfected this stroke for a year. Whenever I get bored in class, I scribble everything that comes to my mind in the back of my notebook using this "calligraphy". A classmate once thought it to be "elvish". Little did she know that it was actually a paragraph describing our teacher's Sahara desert-like forehead.

7. If computer keyboards have voices, it would probably scream at me for hitting the keys hard. Sit near me while I'm typing something and I won't be surprised if you sink down on your knees begging me to spare the keyboard from my cruel fingers. This habit can be traced back to my Harry Potter addiction back in high school. I got sooooooooooo hooked into it that I memorized ALL the spells and incantations there is on the book. I also have a notebook wherein I put all quotes and sayings I liked including the page and paragraph from where it is taken. I used to type in a sloth-like manner, but when I joined a mIRC channel about Harry Potter trivias, my oh-so-crazy typing skills developed. I knew the answers but I always lost because of my slooooooooow typing. So with weeks of practice, I jumped from 16 words to 58 words a minute. And yeah, my name topped the charts. Hehe.

8. The next weird habit may not come as a surprise since people believe that I'm born in this world to talk. Hehe. Yes. I talk to myself, to my shadow, and to my reflection. Especially if I'm on the verge of making a heavy decision or when I'm rationalizing about something. I ALWAYS hear voices debating inside my head. Before I sleep, I recap everything that happened during the day and then I assess the lessons (if there is one). Haha!

9. Half of the pages of my notebooks are drawings or some crazy thing I thought about. Drawings are usually animé characters, bishounens, chibis and others. Or sometimes, I draw landscape. Whatever my pen would get me into. Crazy things include parodies and bastardization of poems and songs. Hehe. Favorite Asylum (featuring Karla) hobby. One of my favorite "works" is how we "re-created" Pablo Neruda's If You Forget Me. The Asylum Version. Adam Sandler's Grow Old With You was another poor victim. This is how Me and Karla "beautified" it.

10. I am the ULTIMATE PHOBIA-BUSTER. Cockroaches? Lizards? Rats? Frogs? Bah! They all have Bam-a-phobia. I hunt them like I hunt trivia. I don't fear them. They FEAR me. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

With all these craziness uncovered, I hope we can still be friends. Hehehe.

Tagged Avy, Karla, Ychel, Tresebry, Mr. Tuesday and Jun.

The theory of "reachability"

2007-03-04T23:45:00.000+08:00

Women are like apples on trees.
The best ones are at the top of the tree.
Most men don't want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt.
Instead, they just get the rotten
apples from the ground that aren't as good, but easy...

So the apples at the top
think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they're
amazing.

They just have to wait for the
right man to come along, the one who's brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.

Based on the assumption that all pretty girls really are attractive. Boys adore girls who are SMART and PRETTY. But then, they are stuck on the level of ADORING. Here enters the concept of "reachability". Guys prefer girls who are of average level. Those they can "reach". Because, the more "reachable" the girl becomes, the more guys flock on her. She is chosen, as she is reachable and has lesser propensity to hurt the guy's fragile pride.

* This post WAS basically for my bestfriend. But I guess, he learned his lessons through my persistent sermons. Hahaha! And now, he is starting to think in a feminist perspective, or more preferably, the way "we" (Neurotic Saglet Asylum featuring Karla) think. He still has a long way to go, but I'm pleased to say that he lost quite a lot of his immaturities (ie, taste in girls). Aye, aye to Karla's last post about dating. Hahahaha! Here starts my manipulation of mankind. The end of feminism and the emergence of MASCULINISM.

Men, be oppressed. *evil laugh*

Recollect and Reflect

2007-02-27T20:34:00.000+08:00

Bah! I love Recollections.

The ABIS-ASST2 had their recollection last February 22, 2007 at the Manresa by the Sea in Talomo, Davao City. It was a fun, fun day. A lot of things happened.

Morning
~ I woke up at 6am. Hah! A miracle. I knew it!
~ It is indeed refreshing to see the Ateneo grounds bathing in the first warm rays of the morning sun. You cannot help but rejoice in the sight of a PDA-lovers-free campus.
~ Oooh, the Ateneo Bus! We will FINALLY be using an Ateneo Bus! Hahaha! Forgive the first-timers. You see, here in AdDU, crying a river of lava is a requisite for riding what should be intended for the students.
~ Harvey and me were busmates! An looked at us and asked with a tone of utmost disbelief, "sure mo, motapad mo?"... By the way, Harvey and me are the exact manifestation of war happening in the Middle East in our classroom. Our ideas and beliefs get along well with each other the way Kim Jung-Il and George Bush does.
~ Thanks be to God, no war emerged between us and the whole IS community arrived safely in Manresa with their eardrums unscathed.
~ I do love retreat houses. It helps you believe that peace still exists.
~ We had a super-reflective prayer, a very-fulfilling mid-morning snack, and a meta-reflective sharing about our life's journeys. I teamed up with Kim, Paola, Harvey, and Janine.
~ And I knew it. They cried plastic balloons after my super-emo-childhood years. That's fun. I usually laugh whenever I remember those moments. Bantay-Bata 163 and other Human Rights Advocates would probably swarm and pester me regarding my oh-so-shocking-salad years. And it won't be quite a shock if I found my name in the headlines talking about Surviving Brutality and other gibberish the media loves to poke their heads into. Things they shouldn't be caring about, at the first place.
~ Lunch! Hahahaha! I soooooooooo love recollections. FOOD GALORE!

Afternoon
~ Everyone is given the chance to stroll around after lunch.
~ Manresa waters are oh-so-calm. The benches were wonderfully lined. I can't help but get pictures.
~ I took A LOT of pictures. Justin’s polo has a cabbage-like texture. Ady found a stick and started hopping in the sand. She performed a ritual. Such ritual implies facing the sea, raising the stick and ~~singing~~ saying "Happy Birthday to You" in Thai.
~ I went inside the hall only to go back to where I come from. I heard, what I thought at first as a drunken whale lost in the sandy waters, Justin whining.
~ Turns out, the bench (with Millie, Kokoi, Kim, and a lot more people in it) collapsed. And Justin's foot got hit.
~ I could beat the Flash. You could mistake me for a boy. After a million gasps, whines, and laughter from the other's tumescent esophagi, Harvey and me managed to free Justin's humungous foot. That WAS fun!
~ We wrote a letter. I wrote to my grandmother. Everything I wanted to say for seventeen years. I burned my letter to my father. The smoke would bring my message for him in heaven.
~ The afternoon was spent reflecting, sharing, eating another set of delectable snack, and of course, laughing about Justin's foot experience.
~ The ride home is as fun as our first-time. We (Harvey and me) wolfed down Anito's Beef Jerky. Ooooh! What law-breakers! Eating dried beef (plus the smell) inside the air-conditioned AdDU bus! Hahahaha! Vengeance is sweet!
~ An reminisced her days of ignorance. The air-con is set at its highest and An is busy fanning herself as if she was stranded in the middle of the Gobi desert in midsummer.
~ Back at AdDU. Back to reality.
~ But the lessons learned has already been embedded in our souls.

Snapshots!

Footprints

Kokoi and Anito (look at the hands!)

Justin: Super Bayeeet

Gusto Mo Mamatay!?

Bwahahaha! Revenge is sweet!

Insight:
We are currently writing our book of life. We have these blank pages to fill. The pens we use are the people we know. There are very pretty pens that we love more than anything but we end up not using it. We have all the opportunity but we decline for fear of rejection. There are pens whose ink runs in dashes. There are days when the ink would flow smoothly, and there were days when it wouldn't even flow at all. We used to hate these pens. But it often turns out that they were the one who stick with us till the end. There are pens that we really love to use. We get so used to these pens that if we lost it, we know our handwriting will never be the same again. We are the authors of our own book. We are the one writing and choosing which line to write or not. We also decide which pen to use. Well, most of the time. Sometimes, we use the first pen we see at hand. No book is the same. The plot may be the same, but the pens we use will always be different. And that's what makes everyone's story special.

Invisible for a Month

2007-02-23T01:16:00.000+08:00

I am forever resurrected. Like a cork bobbing in and out of the water.

Nevertheless, let me recap what had happened over my looooooooooooooooooong absence. Mygedness. It's been A MONTH! FOUR WEEKS! Tsk. Ok, roll VTR.

1st Week (January 29-Feb 3)
~ We condemn Globe! UNLIMITED texting as a commodity. Tsk. I was basically unaffected at first. I registered for 5days unli last Jan31. The next day, the unli rate skyrocketed. Textscams boycotting Globe flew everywhere. I can visualize the Smart and Sun Cellular manufacturers performing a ritual Thanksgiving dance.
~ My wallet (the one brought by Paouwee from Dubai) developed a mind of his own. He went berserk and ran away from me TWICE this week.
~ Oh right. I'm so glad to be alive.

2nd Week (February 4-10)
~ Yeah! I am now officially part of the WEBTEAM! Hahahaha!
~ Pizza Hut on An's birthday. I'm loving my classmates. ABIS-ASST 2 rocks. ^^
~ Midterm exams. Grr.
~ And yeah, I have a new guitar! Her name is WENDY. *giggles* I love her. Jane picked her. I also brought a pick. His name is Twenty. Hahaha!

Ain't she a beaut?

~ I am finally divorced with my wallet. After two failed attempts to get lost, my stupid purse finally got rid of me last Friday. Huhuhuhu.. My TIMEZONE CARD! It has 40php in it! Mygawd! And yea, my damn ATM card was also inside.
~ Anito and Kokoi are officialy on. I'll post their picture next time. Hahaha! A love bound by animê.

3rd Week (Feb 11-17)
~ paperworks, pAperWorKs, PAPERWORKS! (This is one of the MAIN REASONS of my disappearance)
~ It was my freakin' dorky best friendslashcousin's birthday on Feb 11! Ubal! You have definitely left the world of minors!

Happy Birthday Ubs!
*throws confetti*

~ Tina! Happy Birthday! (This is soooooooooo late..) Forgive me. T.T

Another milestone stands... :)

~ Yea, Valentine's day. Weee! A day invented by Hallmark and Blue Mountain Arts for profit. I had a date with Karla and ended the day at Kasagingan with Kim, Meeko, Meanne, Meanne's friend (I forgot her name! Sorry!), Jay (half-German, half-Shepherd. Haha! Kidding!), and Jen. Happy Singles Awareness Day! That's fun, the acronym for SAD? Haha! No way.
~ Uh-huh! Congratulations to Pansit for bagging the Awitenista 2007!

And finally, this week. (Feb 18-21)
~ I am quitting Pink Cloud Inn to start my Madam Auring-like career. Hahahaha! I am soooooooo such a matchmaker. Hihihihi..
~ There is a political turmoil happening in Ateneo right now. And to think that this is politics IN SCHOOL.
~ What? Montano and Pacquiao for the Filipino Nation!? O.o Yeah. And the teletubbies were wearing t-backs for winter.
~ Karla is officially breaking up with LiveJournal. Bwahahahaha! Come on Blogspotters (if there is ever such a word), let's give her a BOILING welcome! Hahaha! Visit her site and read her random ramblings. http://implicitinfluence.blogspot.com/

Well, I think that summarizes what had happened. My insights about our recollection will be posted next. :)

I hope it won't took another month or so.

PROCRASTINATION does breed INVISIBILITY.

Risorgimento and Laziness

2007-01-27T03:23:00.001+08:00

Whew! I missed blogging. So much. And I miss you all people. ^^

Yeah tin, kinacareer ko na resolution ko. Hahaha!

OMG. I feel like fainting. Song currently playing: I've Been Waiting For You by Guys Next Door. Oh 90's music. The Boy Band explosion. This song reminds me of my last crush. Haha! Avy, I'm so over him na, pramis. Naalala ko lang siya sa kantang to. Hehe.

Anyway, I'm supposed to write my reaction paper regarding the past IS week forums for Bugan's class. But as usual, my laziness got me again. I feel like slacking. I do believe I'm Juan Tamad's reincarnate.

This week has been great. My relationship with my classmates is improving. I made a caricature of our class. The first step to a wondrous friendship. Chloe and me are getting supah-close. Judging by the way we call each other "adik!". Harvey can be a pain sometimes, but I'm learning to tolerate him. Janine is not tantamount to a Kindergarten-jester anymore. Jeng is super nice. And I worship An! I'm loving Millie and Kim more and more. Their Lit report about the short story "A Sudden Shower" by Hwang Sun-Won was absolutely wonderful. Millie DOES love Korea! I remembered a certain scene in My Sassy Girl where a movie much like the story of "A Sudden Shower" was uttered by The Girl. Justin commented on the story and said that it was like the novel "A Walk to Remember". Whoa. If I'm not mistaken, the movie Sassy Girl was shown on 2001. Therefore, the "Shower" story is older than the A Walk To Remember itself which grew famous sometime in 2002. I looked up for it a while ago, and boy am I right! The story "A Sudden Shower" was actually the renowned literary piece Sonagi which made its way to the world on 1959! And that's like half a century ago! Originally called Rain Shower, it is cited as a timeless Korean Classic by the Koreans. Take that Justin! I was about to blurt "GO MILLIE Go!". But I got lazy. Hehe.

Yesterday, a miracle happened. The WHOLE gang (ASYLUM) ate lunch together. We never had a time to eat lunch together because of our stupid schedules. Eseng was pestering us about a Studio Pic. I do want a studio pic. I know the others want it too. But we are so busy. Or maybe, because we are just lazy.

Ok. Ed and me are officially best friends (according to him, that is). That frog! Some people are raising their eyebrows about our 'friendship'. Like duh. What do they want? Whenever I get superclose with Karla (and even with the Asylum people), they call me a Lesbian. And now, they're questioning my friendship with Edong!? Yeah, whatever. Controversies swarm me. And I'm not even on TV yet!

Speaking of TVs and cameras - (yes, I'm having a loooooooooooooong post here. Forgive me. I'm blog-deprived) I would now spill the word about my latest blooper. I am actually camera-shy. Yeah, you heard it right so shut up and stop gagging --- Okay. This afternoon, it seemed like a superdooper evil spirit took hold of my body that I haven't realized what I was doing until it's too late. I went to Kalasag, passed an application form, and actually HAD AN INTERVIEW for the AWITENISTA HOST! Oh My God! What have I done!? OMG. Why do I have to suffer for jumping into the bandwagon!? I mean the ADC Gang (Intsik included) went for it too. I threw away my dignity this afternoon! I looked like a complete buffoon. I registered perfectly in the camera just like the way a trampled mudpie does. Arrghh! After the traumatic interview, two thoughts crossed my mind.

1. I'll go to the school cafeteria, ask for a knife and slit my throat.
2. Crawl all the way to the 7th floor and jump in the middle of Roxas Avenue.

I am now proclaiming a personal war against videocameras!

Karla was telling me that it was worth the experience. I am on the verge of losing my sanity. It's a good thing Karla suggested eating two slices of thick pudgy chocolate cake in City Tri. Amidst the turmoil deep in our hearts, we managed to watch the movie Dejavu for my English Paper. It's a great movie. It made us think. I just hope I won't be experiencing any dejavu about my stupid camera experience.

I want to reflect about this week's highlights: my meta-dramatic Thursday night talk with Jane, I-love-my-friends-so-much idea, gender-insensitivity, THE interview, my failure to pass a Webteam Article, and my long list of paperworks.

But as usual, I got lazy. :)

Me and My Dilapidated Thinking

2007-01-18T23:08:00.001+08:00

I am making improvements. At a snail's pace.

Nevertheless, it's the change that matters.

I've been quite busy this week. And it's quite obvious judging on the frequency of my blogging. Hehe. Anyway, this week is International Studies Week. My beloved course's time to shine. It has been a tiring week. I praise God for postponing my Paquete Habana case for Scooby Doo's class. Our Political Econ report for Billiones aka Bugan's class still churns my blood vessels whenever I think about it. Paouwee read her paper chat scrap with Anito this evening. Hmm..? Anito CAN be nice. But, if he starts picking on me again, I would smash his GundamX figurines. And I don't care even if the gods will forgive me or not.

My recovery regarding my notebook's loss is also improving. I'm now using my first year binder. For the sake of having something to write on. I had paid the rent. Thank God! And no, it's not because of an emergency membership in Pink Cloud Inn. Hehe. Let's say, if I'm not in school now, I would probably be a Professional Beggar. I can be the Jacinto Kids' official representative in our school.

Last week, I, sort of, got fond of earrings and other girly stuff. And until now, I still entertain the idea of wearing blouses with ruffles and laces. To shock the asylum, most probably. I was thinking of writing an article about the fashion trends that is currently of the hype nowadays. Blouses, leggings, skinny jeans --- soooo Ateneic.

Forgive me fashionistas, but I can not locate the "happy factor" brought by these dresses. I don't know. Maybe because I don't fancy the idea of looking "just like anybody else". And that maybe, I feel more comfortable with my shirts-and-jeans get-up. Or maybe because, I don't feel like myself in wearing such dresses.

Some say that they find happiness whenever somebody is dumbfounded with their looks. So, if that's the case, is happiness what you exude when you "wow" other people regarding your appearance? Hmm..? Well, I don't question these people. They're happy with that, and I'm in no position to oppose such emotion. I also find happiness with my pambahay get-up, so there's no problem on pleasing other people. I have my friends who accepts me for what I am. They are the people who would point to me and say "Yes! That freaky tentacle-looking blabbermouth is my friend. And I'm bloody happy I have her!" even if I'm dressed in rags, crumpled paper, dried leaves, soiled adult diapers or what-have-you.

Afterall, why would I go on pleasing other people when I have the best ones around? ;)

I lost my brain.

2007-01-09T12:16:00.000+08:00

"Everytime I think about the blunders happening in my life, I feel like I don't have enough middle fingers. "

Yeah Karl. Thanks for the quote. It so totally matched my situation.

I am so stupid. Aaaargh! What am I doing with my life!!?? I wasted a thousand and one bucks in five days! And I can't even remember how! Now I don't know where to get some money to pay for the house rent. I lost my examination paper. My FAVORITE exam paper! I'm supposed to put that in a box so that I can show it to my parents. Or probably sell it one day. Arrrgghh! I don't know what to do!

I am supposed to be doing an assignment about Indian History right now. But I can't find my notebook. Everything is in it! My notes, my assignments, my doTa tips! Waaaah! My doTa tips. Karla was telling me to calm down. That she would help me find it tomorrow. But... I feel so worried. It's like losing a limb.

I feel like losing my mind. Many things happened in the past few days. Petty quarrels, prank texters, stupid pick-up lines spreading on cellular phones, the annoyingly lame EDERLYN messages, and stupid major EXAMS! Haven't I planned this out last year? 50% study, 40% debate, and 5% net. But what's happening is exactly the opposite. From now on, I would be blogging once or twice a week.

I.Need.DISCIPLINE.

I used to love rainy seasons. But now it's driving me crazy. Harvey told me not to question God's choice of weather, but isn't this supposed to happen last December? It's ironic that the sun turned the country into one giant oven last Yuletide season, and now it's somewhere behind the clouds, probably taking a slumber after its tiring job. I hate going to school during rainy days. I find it irritating to carry an umbrella and wear heavy jackets everyday. And Nature's Best is another reason why. I've been digging this Hazelnut Coffee Shake lately. I think I'd change my name to moronic. This day, I gulped a liter of that ice-cold beverage while it's raining cats and dogs. Result: Slow reflexes and brainfreeze. I got my exam grade at Scooby Doo's class. It's dangerously low. And I'M NOT EVEN WORRIED!

Until now.

I really think something is missing in my life. I've been thinking hard about it for quite a long time. And now I've figured.

..
....
.....
....
..

It's DIRECTION.

Tansan

2007-01-03T00:37:00.000+08:00

The wind hummed a gloomy lullaby and thin streaks of feathery white clouds cut across the clear afternoon sky. The waves crashed into the rocks in a hapless manner and sprayed a cloud of mist into the air. I breathed in the salty air and let the warm feeling of being back in a place I consider home sink in. My spirit rose with the sudden gust of breeze that is known to the place. It is a clime that filled half my childhood memories. A contrast of hot summer breaks and chilly autumn holidays give a vivid image of my early years.

Looking at the same stretch of beach clad with trees and shrubs, no one would have thought about all the changes it has surpassed for the past seventeen years. The wind still whistles the same tune; the air still have the distinct smell of freshly picked roses; the purple night sky is still powdered with the same stars I once wished upon; and the cottages that dot the sandy shoreline still stands.

I took a rest on one of those wind-torn shacks and sniffed the tangy afternoon air. The ambience was perfect for reminiscing. I was on the brink of reviving my past experiences when my eyes caught something on the sand beneath my feet. Why, it was a husk of bottle caps! I seized one and held it up on eye-level. A bubble of joy swelled inside my heart. Some child probably left it there. So, kids nowadays still play with bottle crowns? A smile curled upon my lips as memories of my childhood years came gushing in. I used to collect and flatten them out with a stone; pound it evenly so that it would be as flat as a pancake. Then, I would challenge the older kids to game of tansan.

I laid the bottle cap and picked a stone. Not as small as a pebble but something rather huge to fit in my palm. I found the perfect "pestle"; a rough, grayish-eyed sedimentary rock that is the size of a small gourd.

POG! POG! POG!

I smashed the side of the poor bottle cap. The name of the soda brand fading with every pound... The rhythmic beating blended harmoniously with the twittering of the birds. The sound felt so familiar that I felt like I've been drawn back to the pages of yesterday.

POG! POG! POG!

I stared unblinkingly at a child who looked not a day older than seven. Her hair was held neatly in an elegant French braid; her auburn complexion gleamed in the afternoon sun; and her eyes were like deep pools of coal. She looked strangely familiar.

Drops of sweat ran down her forehead. She was pounding a bottle crown in a choppy manner. The sides of the poor bottle crown were severely pounded on one side and the top was inconsistently battered. Nevertheless, she looked completely satisfied with her work.

She, then, ran to a group of kids and beamed upon them.

"Can I join? I have a bottle crown too!" she squeaked as she showed her dismal toy to her playmates.

A thick air of silence enveloped the children. One finally found her voice and blurted out something.

"Mot, you can join us but you're going to be the salingpusa."

I found the remark insulting but it seemed that it made the little girl happy. An innocent smile that reached up to her twinkling eyes escaped from her lips. She ran beside the other kids and started flipping her bottle crown.

It's a good thing her playmates made her the salingpusa. Her disfigured toy made it impossible for her to flip it properly that she always lose to the other kids. I cannot help wrinkling my nose in disgust. I was about to go and grab the toy when someone sharing my sentiments gently stated:

"Mot. You did it wrong. You're crown looks like a lump of sodden pudding. Here let me help you."

An older girl, probably about nine, seized the deformed plaything and pounded it evenly until the surface of the cap was flat. She was teaching the little girl the proper way of bashing the crown. She then handed the crown back to the latter which then piped in gratitude:

"Thank you Nora! Let us be partners! Let's play against Saima and Gina."

Nora seemed more than willing to the offer. They played against the other children. It had been a competitive game yet no harsh words were heard from the losing party. Everyone was glad at the consequences of the event. Everyone respected one another.

The scene tugged my heartstrings. It's funny how these little children were free from the austere pangs of worldly wickedness. The innocence emanating from their eyes are far more valuable than the most recherché hue of amber. If only adults could act this way. If only we could be as carefree and guiltless, then the world would be a better place. No more tear-stricken faces from those who suffer. No more hurting, no more pain. What a bright world it would be -

"MOOOOOT!"

My thoughts were shattered by a shrill cry.

"Mot! You're grandmother is coming. It seems that you're supposed to have your siesta but you sneaked out. She looks really angry! I'm scared! I ran here to tell you! Run now. Before she catch us here!"

I recognized the messenger to be Tontong. He was panting heavily; a look of concern etched in his young face. I looked at the little girl and saw the color fade from her visage. She turned to run.

I can see her grandmother from a distance. She was definitely angry. She got hold of the poor girl and started pinching her.

"You naughty little girl! Haven't I told you to sleep?"

I felt numb all over. I looked at the petrified faces of the children. They were all cowering beneath a tree. I sympathized with their fear. I sensed my knees trembling.

I looked at the little girl. But it seems like I'm seeing her for the first time after ten years. Streams of tears ran down her cheeks. She wiped it with the back of her hand. The bottle crown is still clutched between her fists.

I felt her eyes, MY eyes, burning.

Everything went blurry. Then every single thing faded...

POG! POG! POG!

I looked at the bottle crown I was pounding. It was thoroughly flat. I can now pound evenly. Long gone were the days of lumpy crowns. I dropped the stone and shifted my gaze at the long coastline. Ten years has been quite a long time. Still, the memory is vividly inscribed in my mind. The beach may still look the same but I know many have changed. The sun was finally out from the mass of grey clouds and it sent a radiant glow across the sand.

I learned that Nora had been married two months ago. Saima is now having her first baby. Tontong is currently in Manila, preparing his papers for Dubai. Gina just gave birth to her second child. The others were now, nowhere to be found. My grandmother eventually lost her draconian rigidity. And, that the twittering of the insects replaced the gay laughter that used to fill this place years ago. Gone were my childhood days.

Everything changed.

I looked up at the opalescent sky and wondered whether it is still the same sky that witnessed the colorful passages of my salad years. Maybe the coconut palms that were lining the shore were the mere saplings of the old coconut trees I used to drink buko juice from. I know that the orchids my grandmother used to water every morning had long withered and died.

I grew up. So were the others.

Change is inevitable. Everything becomes different. But, the thoughts that accompany this place will never be erased from memory. They will forever live. As long as the sun still sets beyond the endless horizon. As long as the wind still ruffles the leaves of the towering acacia trees near the house. As long as the waning moon still roams the evening sky. As long as I breathe...

I stood up and walked to our house.

The bottle crown safely tucked inside my fist...

What You Get In College

2006-12-09T18:31:00.000+08:00

"College is a fountain of knowledge. And the students are there to DRINK."

CONCEDED!

The time is 2am. And here I am at FRB, staring at the blaring computer screen. I spent the last seven hours to gazing at the beautiful moon, blowing smoke AWAY from me, and listening to seniors talking. It's a good thing there's no class tomorrow/today.

Last Friday, we had no classes. (There's a mass.) Today, the classes shortened. And tomorrow (Immaculate Concepcion Day), will be another class-free day.

Ah! The joys of Jesuit schooling.

Anyway, Pam and Me watched Happy Feet this afternoon. Err.. Don't read me wrong. I DO understand the film. But I can't help asking myself for the META behind the movie. Hehe.

Sorry for the avid fans, but the movie is really FOR KIDS. It lacks the "insightful and profound" ingredient I'm looking for in every movie. Nevertheless, if you just had your worst day ever (ie your new car fell on a ditch, you found out your father was the postman, etc) and you just want something that may act as a forgetful potion, this film is right for you.

After the movie, I had my usual ADC people hang-out time. Karla, Lotty, Ate Marj, Sam, Rex and moi went to Bora. I had been fattening myself! I bought Burger Steak even if I already ate for about five times that day. For the sake of staying. But then, Karla and Lotty, those two turtles, left me with the beer-thirsty seniors.

Nevertheless, it was fun. Then someone named Goeffer (I don't know the right spelling) came. He is Rex's friend. He's an ex-debater from Xavier and is currently taking up Law here in AdDu. And he teaches Philo at James Dangas' class.

It's fun hanging out with adults. Sam was constantly shaking his head everytime Marj offers him a glass of booze. A mini-debate issued just because of a Metaphysics paper. I adjed using pies for analogies. They were throwing green jokes. I have to swallow my tongue whenever I don't seem to get the quip (which happened most of the time) so as not to destroy the punchline. Ate Marj and ~~Sir~~ Goeffer got wasted. Rex maintaining his poise after all that's been happening. Goeffer stared when he learned that I'm seventeen. He thought I'm 21-22 years old. Grr. I was looking at them for four hours straight. I was zapped away from the minors comfort zone. I was forced to take a look on what is happening inside an adult's mind. And they said that they find it funny how I gaze at them with a vivid glow of innocence.

Tsk.

Adults never did fail to amuse me.

Calming Down

2006-12-07T15:53:00.000+08:00

Section One

"Calm down... Calm down! That's life."

Well, Giovanne and Avy can sure wake my freaky side in a matter of minutes!

Avy summoned me to McDo. She promised to treat me. Who won't love that? Hahaha! SO off I went, even if I'm so totally full. After "dinner", we hiked from Illustre to Magallanes with our voices reaching up to 10,000 decibels. And there, we played DotA! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I killed Avy! Bwahahahaha! At last! At LONG LAST! I managed to kill someone! Bwahahahaha! Though my score is lower than the fare during 1997.

Section Two

I was thinking about Pawee (today's her birthday) when I heard a rendition of Canon in D. Rock Version. Solo Guitar. By someone named Johnny C! Waw. I am sooo speechless. It's wonderful. Amazing. Extraordinary. Marvelous. Astonishing. Breathtaking. Transcendental. I can't explain it.

"Bam! Calm down!"

Section Three

Last night, something freaky happened to Karla. It was all because of her admirer-turned-stalker.

Re-enactment
(Note: Not the exact words used)

Karla: Kuttahaha. Andito siya! *blabs about stalker*
Drew: Karla, sa movies lang yan nangyayari. Pasagdi lang.
*stalker leaves*
Karla: Hay buti na lang umalis. Ayoko talaga ng ganun ba.
Pansit: Hindi naman siguro yun stalker.
(stalker comes back)
Drew: *whispers* Waw. Bumalik!
(stalker stands NEAR the table. The three talking as if the moron doesn't exist.)
Drew: *can't take such eye sore* (to the stalker) pare, baka gusto mong umupo?
Stalker: *SITS DOWN* I'm Robin. You can call me Mags because that is what my friends in high school calls me. But you can call me whatever you like because I'm not a boy anymore. I'm a man. I'M A MAN!
(The three looks at each other. Karla's eyebrows on the danger of disappearing into her hairline.)
Drew: *talking in a elitistslashconyo language* Kim texted. "Declare thy coordinates." So should I say where we are...?
Stalker: *butts in* Are you talking about Math? Because I heard you say coordinates. And I'm an EC Engineering student. 2nd year.
Drew: *Sarcastic Mode: ON* Ooh!? Really? Pansit is E.C.E., FIFTH YEAR. And I'm M.E., FIFTH YEAR.
Karla: *meta-anxious*
Pansit: (to himself) Karla, maaring di mo ako papatawarin dito pero tingin ko kelangan na natin ng immediate action!
(Pansit making "akbay" to Karla)
Pansit: Beh, saan man tayo mamaya?
Karla: *gets Pansit's message* Ikaw.. Saan mo gusto? *ultra-sweet smile*
(The two acting a totally sweet scene that a colony of ants died of diabetes while watching them.)
Drew: Excuse me guys ha. I have to go out. I think I need some AIR. (last word stressed and throws a CAN-YOU-DO-US-A-FAVOR-BY-GETTING-LOST look at the stalker)
*Drew goes out*
Pansit: So ECE ka pala sa USEP? Kilala mo ba sina *blah, blah* (mentions SENIOR Engineering students at USEP)
Stalker: *looks scared* err.. yes.
*Pansit and Karla's ubersweet antics continue*
Stalker: (to Karla) Excuse me lang. Uyab kayo? (referring to Pansit)
Karla: *bitch mode* Hindi. Ang uyab ko si Andrew. Yung nakaupo diyan kanina.
*Andrew hearing Karla, comes in*
Drew: *holds Karla's shoulders* (sweet-almost-yucky tone) Karla, doon muna ako ha?
Karla: Sure.
Stalker: *meta-tabis* Kung uyab kayo? Bakit ganyan kayo dalawa magkilos? (referring to Pansit)
Karla: *Bitch Mode: LEVEL UP* GUSTO KO LANG. *evil grin*
Stalker: Gaano na ba kayo katagal ng uyab mo?
Karla: One year. Baket?
Stalker: Wala lang.
*Karla finishing dinner. Therefore, the three bade goodbye to the stalker and rushed off to Kebab to tell us the tale*

Fast Forward four hours later:

Stalker messaged Karla:
"Ipaliwanag mo sa akin yung nangyari kanina na nagpapacute ka dun sa isa habang nandun ang uyab mo kung ayaw mong mag-away tayo.

Insights:

The guy IS a psycho! Who in his right mind would DARE to sit in a table with people he doesn't even know? Had he not thought that Karla is with TWO guys? Is he not scared of Komodo Dragons and Addicts? *Flashback USEP Inter-school debate rounds* The said stalker is the toenail-looking creature who asked Karla for her number! And now he gives Karla a Friendster message like that. THE NERVE! They're not even close! Waw. Shet. Feeling niya tao siya?!? You can take his picture and give it to the National Geographic Magazine for the cover page of an issue on the early years of the Primitive Ape. Mygawd. I'm not sure if such face (what face?) would even register on the camera! He looked like a giraffe's armpit! And my, with the paramecium-sized brain! Who is he to speak such words as "kung ayaw mong mag-away tayo". Waw. Kuttabare! Karla and me are so like soul sisters and I haven't even told her THAT when she almost lost my SIM card! What a moronic jerk! He and his fecal matter-ish of an appearance! Grrrr.. HINDI MASYADO HALATANG GALIT AKO NOH!?

And I CAN'T calm down!

When Bookworms Go Classical

2006-12-05T01:23:00.000+08:00

I'm worshipping Lucy Maud Montgomery.

The author of the infamous Anne of the Green Gables. I am now riding in a classical bandwagon. But, unlike other fans, I'm drooling over EMILY OF NEW MOON.

Karla lent me some of her paperback books last week. I read all of them except Emily. Karla gave all-thumbs for this novel. She blabbed about me RELATING to the character and everything. So, I'm saving the BEST FOR LAST.

And I DID love Emily! For some reasons like the following:

~ A sprinkle of flowery words. It jerked up "the flash" in my literary/writing career. Haha!
~ The story is anything but juvenile.
~ Pageturner! I read it for four hours straight! I'm literally nurturing my eyebags still I can't put the damn book down!
~ Flawless use of witty language.
~ Emily and me are sooooo totally alike in many ways. Like, her father died, she loves cats, she doesn't want a beau, she's sooooo damn sarcastic, she thinks old for her age, she loves nature and boy is she proud!
~ Some characters are also worth relating to, like Aunt Elizabeth. She is so like my dear grandmother. Strict. Unpredictable.

I can't wait to read the other Emily books. And I might as well start the Anne series.

Oh books. Divine creations. Who says we don't need them?^^