DA Filth

UNDER CONSTUCTION

2012-01-10T16:26:00.001+08:00

Author is practicing HTML

Milestones

2011-03-27T11:20:00.012+08:00

Solve the Puzzle

Yesterday was my day off. I had the chance to tease my wife about the chance of her winning a date with our son for the entire day, and she wasn't too interested. I was kidding of course, I did not want to pass up the chance to spend time, before and after work, before and after sleep. And most especially on day offs. Besides, we learn a lot of things together, though I've got tons of other things to do or PLan todo, and read and yes, write about. This is a short list of Gabe's milestones.

Gabe has learned to say A-Na-Na when cajoled to say Ba-Na-Na. This is something my wife and her sister had worked on and succeeded. I, on the other hand, has been working on Re-Fri-Ge-Rator since he was 3 months old and still can't get pass the first syllable, but he never fails to pin point the location of the fridge with a stare, or by pointing with all 5 fingers.

He is only 10 months old, or shall I say, wtf he's 10 months old already? I don't remember growing up that fast in my entire life.

Reading the hundreds of websites on infant development actually helped us paint a general picture of what he should be able to do at this point. Compounded by the grand parent's insistent everyday lessons on the to-do's and what not to do's in a baby's life. Make them Grand parents from both sides, talk about double Tag Teams. But Gabe is coping up pretty good except...

Walking, We still have to find time for proper training. I couldn't properly teach something when I don't remember how it was taught to me in the first place. I can teach my son bike or sports or chess or how to drive easy, but walking? Where did I start with that?

There are kids his age who can walk a couple of steps with only a hand to guide them. Gabe runs wild with a gait and step of a crippled reindeer with 5 hooves. They say it's hard to train babies when their first impulse is to jump up and down or run.

He can do the close open antics, and clapping of the hands. But not always though, only if he finds it appropriate. He says mam-ma mam-ma when calling his mom or when he gets bored. He's favorite toy is the Truck, and the Car, he can identify at least 50 things by pointing or staring at them.

He becomes anxious and afraid with new stuffed toys. I brought him to a place where parents leave their kids when visiting the malls, and he was terrified with the place. It was called Play Land. It was confusing for all 3 of us.

Shouts at an airplane or a motorcycle or a car passing by. Loves the peekaboo and throws a plastic ball at 33 mph. 10 more ticks and he's at equal arm strength with his father. I destroyed my arm when I had too much baseball without warming up.

He loves to throw things around and down the floor, then start to try and pick them up and push them around. Over and over again. He is at the point where he needs to warm up with new things before he starts playing with them.

Laughs and kicks and crawls up and down the bed. He has learned the art of playing Tag, long before he can walk. I need to prop him up and guide him so he can run his own when another pretends to go after him. He really thinks he's on his own these days.

He just eats anything fed to him. He eats liver Atay and his father would say "Pinoy Fear Factor." Opens his mouth to his vitamins with gusto, but not without grimacing with the after taste. He shouts at Jollibee, the light, some other kids, and the Lizards on the ceiling. Especially the lizards. He puts up a fake smile as if of wry humour, when a camera is readied in his face and somebody exclaims Picture2x!

He loves to leaf through the pages of the book, he just tore the front page of my book yesterday. He turns shy and breaks stare when Aleka or that cute girl in one of the Einstein videos starts talking. The giggle and the anxiety of excitement is obvious, and his mother just adores it, and replays the scene a hundred times just to see the same giddy reaction.

He stares at you to seek acknowledgement when he sees something familiar, like the Lizard. He will not stop until you say something to that accord.

I can do this all day, but I have work tomorrow and I need a couple of other things done today. Or maybe just join him and mom who are asleep in bed.

I will surely hate the day when all the fascination with the little crawling creatures stops and all the things he has learned in life will be impossible to track down.

Allusions to motherland

2011-03-07T07:08:00.002+08:00

Filipinos love to copy anything imported, anything made in, breathe in, and done in the U.S.A. The love of the motherland has not limits. It needs no reason. It's just, natural. There's no arguing who should be Philippines Motherland is.

It's just lately that I've realized how Americanized I am. It didn't take much analysis or introspection, I just observed. There's just so many things alluded to something American. I would partly have my father to blame too, who spent his first 20 years of employment in a U.S. embassy. It doesn't take a genius to reckon the serious effect that work experience has had to his propensity to think, well, American. To teach, compare, and allude to anything better or correct. When I say better or correct, it is not Filipino, it's usually American.

Philippine president Aquino's run for presidency was an allusion to then newly elected Barack Obama. Aquino's run for presidency echoed the same clamor for change and hope for the future. A change that is yet to be seen, a hope that is yet to be felt for Filipinos. The copying did not come as offensive or faulty, in fact, it was as welcome as a breath of fresh air. If any, it was a proof that Aquino, was paying attention to world events, and was exact in referencing Obama in our own little plight for national deliverance.

Lately too I've seen PBA commentators tackle the recent trade of top elite BPA players between teams. Surprisingly, it came as a surprise to me, knowing that I've never seen PBA teams attempt such significant release of players, much more to actually doing it. Again, it is an allusion to USA's own NBA of course, which have had it's own million dollar trades between overly paid NBA superstars. Between million dollar teams which are getting more costly than ever.

The only difference between these PBA transactions and NBA's, is that the latter had more options, more reasons (they actually thought about it), and definitely tons more of money. PBA teams had no reason to let go of their elite players. Moving the superstars around the league, would have very little impact on any team's popularity, much so to PBA's popularity as a tv show. Even the player's popularity may be badly hurt.

In fact, it could dismantle whatever solid fan base they've had in the past. San Miguel Beermen is not a city of beer, it's a company. A fan's only reference or inclination for support is it's winning-ablity and it's player's showmanship- meaning, whatever reason you have. But then again, the NBA did it, it is only cool that the PBA to do it as well.

Of course there's a myriad of examples, these are just two. It is acceptable for us to allude to everything American because like in literature, perhaps whatever we have at home is better off as a fictional counterpart of the better reality that is in the U.S of A, than what is truly original to us. We are excused to allude because it is only fleeting, a passing allusion to an American idea, fad or even a belief. It is only in passing that we copy, because maybe we are still in grasping terms with what we believe is truly ours, and hope that someday it will be okay to be original.

The sad thing about it is that whenever I think of something truly Filipino, which is not in any way tainted by foreign influence. The first thing in mind is Willing Willie the game show. Now, that's saying something.

Trying hard

2011-02-20T05:08:00.009+08:00

Even in an adult workplace, especially in a classroom training setup, I find it amusing that everything goes back the way there were in high school. There's always the popular gal, the class clown, the trying hard, the nerds, the quiet guys, etc. I find it funny how disliked I've become lately, though I've never been told face to face nor were there any obvious deliberate action to let me know.

Well, I was smart enough to have figured it out without having to ask anyone. I am not one to make allies too just to be popular or get back at someone, so I just kept this to myself. I'm like the super villain Megamind, only that I'm neither blue in color nor an alien. The size of the head though might not be that far fetched.

This is surprisingly uncomfortable, and at the same time maddeningly challenging. The truth is I've always been the likable one and I always find something to like about anyone, just enough to be friendly friendly. That came with a price though. I had to thrive at mediocrity and live the life of the perpetual under achiever. I had to please people. I've always thought the role was cool.

Before I started with the new company, I decided otherwise.

So, how did I become a super villain, I guess it all started when I swore to work my hardest, in the exact fervent manner I swore to stop smoking. Though I am a long ways from that working the hardest habit, and still spends most of my time berating myself every time I fall short of my scheduled tasks, or feel lazy, I'm starting to get the feel of it.

So I try my damn hardest to be the most 'trying hard' guy in the room. I've never thought I'd say something like that in my life. I've always admired those trying hards for the simple fact that they're trying hard. It will likely start to pay off for them but take it's toll as well.

Anyway, people should know that the goal of is to learn as fast as you could in the shortest possible time. Because you don't want to add to yourself the stress and hassle of Not knowing what to do, and spare yourself the time you could have used more productively , than asking questions. This might also apply in most jobs I would think.

There's also a huge difference between those who see the call center as a temporary stint and those who see the job as their last chance to be good at something. There are those who don't have any fall back options and those with ready options, the board passers, engineers, nurses etcetera. There are also those who work to feed families, those who are hoping fun and opportunities, the new grads and the call center hoppers.

So for those who keep on whining, please just start focusing on what you yourselves need to learn, fast. Envy and insecurity will never help.

This situation almost looks like they actually expected an even playing field, and expected to see people from the same little barangays as theirs. At 25+ age, people still find it repulsive to find others of different ethnicity, personality and thinking. How many people have they met? or is this just plain High School?

I am not one to be bothered by anything personal or as dramatic as this at work, but i guess I am up to such friendly competitions, even for some nasty social mind wargames.
So, My first lesson from Megamind : the difference between a villain and a super villain is...

Presentation.

Noted.

I think this decision may have something to do with my renewed energy and positive atrocity. So I thank that too.

Deftones was in Manila

2011-02-14T11:26:00.001+08:00

Okay, first of all, I wasn't in the Deftones concert in Manila the other night. I can't believe how envious I got and how envious I still am. I knew I was going to envy everyone who had the chance to watch THE Deftones LIVE, but I never guessed it would be this much Envy.

Anyway, watching the videos in youtube, I thought the Pinoy crowd was lousy. It pissed me off that they were hardly moving and were barely making noise, like they're watching Sarah Geronimo in concert. Chino accordingly even asked the crowd why everyone's so quiet. WTF

The reasons are for one, everyone's busy smiling about and taking pictures and being giddy and starstruck-ed about it. For the Lamb Of GOD, I understand all the shock and awe. But just a little bit of courtesy, the least people could have done was to learn moshpit and shoving and jumping altogether on the spot, even if the most you've done was to raise your arms and shout woohoo at a Gary V concert.

Or sacrifice a lamb (ir a goat) in front of the stage like I would do.

By the way, here's Chino and Vera dancing to the tune of Firework by Katy Pery? Caught on cam by Paolo Velenciano during an after party.

It must have been a freaking weird night for The Deftones in Manila. Good Job! Chino and Sergio in Manila, Dancing

Travelling by Sea

2010-12-26T07:11:00.003+08:00

Noah's Ark did not have a tourist class did it?

Sometimes you just have to have Faith, especially if you preach of it too much. Normal people take risks, and sometimes these risks are of the same kind even when on our daily walking lives.

When I was as young as an elementary schooler, i've learned the art of standing still, keeping quiet while trying to be as agreeable as i could be, to find that middle ground between me and my parents if there's something we did not agree on, just to let them realize that i've made up my mind and nothing they can say would ever stop me.

So what they did was to give support, well, they didn't say anything much anyway because they were mostly reasonable, not too much analytical, and always shall i say, optimistic about things, and they knew i wasn't about to do something stupid. And if i did, it was because i was taking risks.

Life can never be without risks. Travelling by sea has it's own risks, and so as walking in a fucking sidewalk.

I've been travelling my entire life by sea, when i was young and when i was in college too. We didn't have much for us to board planes or whatsoever, especially if we had time in our hands to enjoy transport.

I always thought the sea port as someplace special to people, where you can find the serene scenes of human existence and humanity's dynamics, different people on the same ship looking forward, destined to dock somewhere.

These superferries and ships that take their course across the archipelago, these are not the same ships you take when you roll-in and roll-out from one province to it's next adjacent province.

departure 9:45 pm 12/26/10 -
relaunched with upgraded facilities

These are bigger, and better. IF you think getting sea sick is easy when you are on a barge or a small boat, that is because the vessel is small enough, and you are small enough to feel both sway with the waves. IT shouldn;t be the case in larger vessels, as they take their routes across the islands, you wouldn't even notice it budge that may be mended by the speed, well i never notice it unless there's storm or something.

I've seen people with newborn babies in vessels like these, and it wasn't too difficult to realize that , hey , everyone will just do fine in the sea. People have been doing this for centuries, did you think we're scattered all over the earth because of cebu pacific?

The point of the matter is, travelling by sea has it's own perks and risks. It may not be as safe as what statistical evidence may persuade you when travelling by air, but hey, aren't these planes one of the leading causes of Statistics?

Look, you embark the ship, be one with humanity, where everyone's equal and are not any different socially, neither biologically - no baby is more susceptible to a disease than the other, not even my son who's 8 months old - and it doesn't mean you are safer from viruses in a ship, than in a fucking crowded mall. Neither are you any more safer from accidents in a huge ship in a raging sea, than while asleep at home.

Everyone in the vessel will enjoy the travel, be safe on board and trust and have Faith.

Heck, even Noah was entrusted the last remaining living species to survive in a freakin wooden Ark.

So let's act like normal homo sapiens and attend your grandparents 30th wedding anniversary.

Smoking is Beautiful

2010-12-20T09:53:00.006+08:00

I woke up to a heavy chest pain and a nagging cough which i 've never had in my 12 years of smoking cigarettes. I'm coughing to the top of my lungs. How can I get past these symptoms without cranking up i don't know. Well, cranking up is a symptom too so i guess fuckit.

It's been 14 days since D-Day my lungs died, i remember it like it was just a few minutes ago, and remembering of course, doesn't help. Actually, remembering is a quitter's worst enemy.

Smoking cigarettes has never been this pleasant to my sight.

I may have underestimated the power of nicotine, and was wrong with my estimates of this whole quitting business.

Frustrating that majority of the online selfhelp articles have the symptoms at the most unpleasant within 3-5 days. Well, i was running along just fine the first 6 days, then realized that the coughing and the sneezing were starting to aggrevate my previously oblivious headache, then a sort of anxiety, then the cravings, and inability to concentrate, and then this fatigue. While I have unlearned my tendencies to self medicate a long time ago, I can't help myself checking the symptoms list and find the list almost done. GOod thing, i always say, is that I know what the cause is and more improtantly, why.

This fatigue can be quite tricky, it stifles any strength to act and think "stronger." Fatigue also gives a false illusion that I am weak and exacerbates the craving to feel almost unbearably stronger than it actually is, or that can just be me overanalyzing.

And chewing gum can be more expensive than smoking. Though i could consume up to a pack a day, and a couple of packs with alcohol before, I've come down, or up, to about 10 to 20 gums a day on top of extra snack time and extra rice as well.

I don't remember dreaming of cigarettes. Twice I woke up feeling sorry almost to the point of crying because i was pretty sure i smoked a cigarette, and in the dream, i wasn't aware of it. Ridiculous, considering that i am not allowed to smoke even in my dreams, but more ridiculous that i felt deep remorse about breaking the promise.

R.I.P 12/05/10

2010-12-07T05:28:00.007+08:00

I quit smoking cigarettes. It's been 48 hours.

The die is cast.

There should be no turning back, not even to look back.

Like someone dear inside me is dying. You want to cry because it's sad. For 12 years, every single day, for almost 12 times on average.

and now we're on a "cool off" stage, - and might consequentially turn to a total BREAK UP. (the whole point)

It's as if i just lost a sweetheart.

But heck, i've successfully Quit on some other substance far worse- endured similar symptoms 20 times more intense than what the worst withdrawal from nicotine can bring, or so I thought.

I tell you, 'The Filth' days used to be- see me saying to myself everyday "i'm not going crazy" in 20 seconds intervals, that went on for years-and that's just the tip of the iceberg, mind you.

Now it goes like this - "Cigarettes are yucky" every time the urge kicks in, and the mind plays a trick.

Well you don't want to play with me-it's like playing against a pro, and getting beat to each and every punch.

this will be nostalgic. this will be fun.

This is Blog

2010-12-03T09:31:00.010+08:00

This is blogging, I've missed it. I realized I enjoyed it here, it's dark and it's somehow, crazy. Somehow? Are you kidding me? It's flat out neurotic.Woohoo for me at least.

This is the only place to do this. The place you come to sit and speak your mind, (This will be another ugly post ).

Regardless of subject or topic, from a recent vacation trip, to a single worded poem, to a political rant, to something like this post- it's no holds barred.

This can be the place you go to and write the most nonsensical thing you can think of, and not worry about an audience. Hi Fans!

Or concise, well-thought of and excellent composition worthy to be published.

The place to go to write with all your heart and soul about something, then regretting writing about it tomorrow.

Or for most bloggers, create digital acquaintances, whether you want them or not.

People who you would have formulated solid and longlasting impressions after reading a remarkable post, and never forgetting.

People who you would have known a whole lot better even before you get to know your oldest "friend" in facebook.

This is the place to earn money too, so please click here

This is where supercomputers 100 years from now will be analyzing to understand what our generation is all about,really.

Blogging is our generations traditional diary. But They may write it, or You may not write it, in the "I" perspective, We have all the freedom.

Or, May not be written in any perspective at all,

Puede mong isulat sa kahit anong lenguahe, maskin cosa.

You don't ahve to worrying about grammar, speling

nor

structure.

Because ANYTHING (FUCK) can be PUBLISHED.

Random

2010-11-29T06:57:00.002+08:00

So bLogging today or tomorrow wouldn';t make sense, so why not today.

It's is like taking an indefinite break from standing up right or walking and then trying to run instead of scram, despite the chase. The mind can only handle so much, though not proven, while speaking to an average of 80 foreigners a day compared to an avereage of 5 Filipinos a day will not make you feel any foreign.

While given the state of things going around these days, there's not much one can do with things that can demotivate you. The long absence of stimulating activities, both mentally and physically makes one dead, mentally, then physically.

I woke up from a 9 hour sleep to face a feeling of sleeplessness, it must be the understanding that whatever lies ahead, like the work you do before you go for work, will not be the same as say, playing and geting paid.

So what if we are forced to deploy Manny Pacquiao to the Yellow Sea if they don't stop and settle down becaue it could turn to really ugly war. Despite the insistent boredom, a third Word War would be a tad too ugly.

Live and let live. I really don't quite get the phrase. If it means to say something to that effect after going about your own business and failing to be oblivious of other people, then i guess i get it.

Pacquiao Season

2010-11-09T05:21:00.000+08:00

Sports fans have started toshift their eyes on boxing this time of the year. With the much anticipated match between pacquiao and margarito this nov 13, one can not deny that the interest and enthusiasm generated by the match, which centers on margarito's shrewed past and pacquiao's reported lack of preparation, have been more than what most people predicted.

What stood out most is that I don't remember seeing this kind of buzz during the cotto fight, and most certainly not out of the last Clottey-Pacquiao fight which despite the anonimity, filled up upthe cowboys stadium with 50,000 people, 40,000of whichi guess were Noypi's

Give it to Arum for his dedication to make sure margarito be allowed to fight, and more to his dedication to make a strong stand on margarito's innocence. Bob Arum's supposed argument isclear, margarito is the best possible match up for pacquiao, not because the plaster scandal makes the buzz bigger with intrigue, but beause margarito's physical advantages poses the biggest challenge for pacman. But of course, you know better.

what can you say about the hostage taking?

2010-08-30T15:39:00.001+08:00

A lot of things that happened that day tells me something is definitely sick about this country.

Why

2010-07-31T15:03:00.006+08:00

Why can't some people just stop minding other people's lives. Sometimes, I just don't understand.

Their brains are seemed to be wired most of the time to question other people's actions, question and be immensely involved , in thought and in feelings, with somebody else's life. Sometimes, that somebody they don;t know even.

Why can't they just sit back and be one with the crowd of men and realize that whatever is running through that brain is not always right, nor correct, whatever reason they might believe, because he or she is just one in a billion living organism crawling the earth and will never have any right to feel even the slightest rejection or irk, that does not meet what the all-knowing brain is thinking.

We'd probably live a couple of decades only , so please just be a bit better and immerse yourself unto your own fucked up problems, or whatever you'd want to call it. Life at a couple of decades will not teach you even half of what you think you already know.

Wala lang

2010-07-30T18:04:00.002+08:00

He took away the sins of the earth. The grave attempts of throwing it at our faces would have been, for today, great to make slight accusations on everyone's each consciousness. That to make a mistake, which is always intentional, will be dealt with accordingly. He must have been struck by lighting, for the circumstances were like in a river, steady and unbreakable, but such attempts may have impact.

GIve us time and we shall see. While I take each slow strides into the wild inside, each move I make I create with much hope of trying to make what people tirelessly would like to make. To create a better place to live in, while each consciousness breeds on frail opportunities, the most of us thrives harder than what another person, would thrive of with so little thought.

wtf

2010-07-15T12:24:00.003+08:00

i don't see my blog

Self-serving Psychiatrists in us

2010-07-14T12:44:00.002+08:00

It feels like it's just been recently that i came to an unsual realization on image, friendship and perception. Everything should be biased. Unusual for me, growing up not ever trying to act like , or know like, or even pretend. IT's a fucked up scene everytime it happens. I go inside out and end up more confused and dumbfounded that when I started.

Unsolicited Advices, are worse, you dictate it with the wrong intentions. It is self serving nonetheless and it;s just plain annoying. I don't care if we are "friends" and it may be an attempt to acknowledge that fact, but in reality, well, i just wanted to sit around and talk of other f8)(* nonsense with real friends and not to fucking analyze each and every word that comes out of anyones' mouth and start judging people and talk about people's private lives like in the tv? I may act stubborn and talk non sense, or I may axtually be, i may walk and my disposition may not please you, but fuck that's only because i didn't need to because well, what are friends for.

Fuck pretentions and society dictating how well one is , yes i blame my parents for teaching me that to ask "how do i do" than " is more important than "how much do i own." Yes , it's biased, everyone has his own parents, and his own childhood and environment, so unless asked , please don't throw your feet on other people's shoes and even think that you know how the other person is feeling and what's going on in his mind and what he should or not do, and why and what nots. It is stupid. Each brain is wired differently, don't judge the person by what he posts in facebook, by the way he talks, or what he says, and how immature it may sound or childish or fucking insane, because you will never ever know exactly how it is to sit inside the brain unless it's yours and your family and your whatever.

That is why i stopped giving advise to people , even if they ask me. BEcause i know it really won't matter . i make it a point to make an attempt to understand, and then say "hayaan mo na siya." Because really, what can you do?v

Tang inang pretentions and compl;ex trying self serving mind readers, wasting their time on someone elses life, to find determination and definition of his? I always thought defined myself wiht what I do, and how well i do it, since i was a child. My "Self" is not a collective ability of hits and misses on how well i see the world and how well i can tell right from wrong for others actions. HOw fucking sick is that? How do they do it , i couldn't even have enough thinking time for my own life and my own wife and my son, and me, why am i going to think of others? especially to unknowingly judge others? Mind your own life, it's not you that consitutes the world, it's a "we" world. IT's not the actions or the words or the act or the disposition that defines the person, it's something more than what those freaking eyes can see. Yes this is biased, people should stop stopping themselves to please everyone. You dont know everything , you see someone hinting that his sad and depressed and crying and say his depressed. DepressED? have you actually ever seen a person that is truly depressed?

Doppelganger

2010-06-07T05:00:00.000+08:00

Ok that's it, this is the 3rd time the last 2 months that a person thought they saw me, and were pretty sure at that, someplace I wasn't.

Rog just came up the elevator and told me she saw me smoking in the ground floor. Was pretty shocked when told that I was in the 10th floor for the last couupld of hours.

Another person, I forgot who, saw me sleeping in the sleeping lounge, was pretty sure at that as well. When it was my day off.

Paking Jorge informed me just a while ago that I slept in the lounge. I told him I did , but it wasn't me becuase whoever he saw was wearing a white shirt and 'slippers'?? and he saw me, just a while ago, but I slept over 4 hours ago.

Ok, it scared me for a moment. Because I can't remember anyone telling me they saw me some place when I wasn't in that some place. I would never want to see my doppelganger.

---------- from: "http://www.mythicalcreaturesguide.com/page/Doppelg%C3%A4nger"

A doppelgänger is the ghostly — in some cases, the physical — double of a living person. The word "doppelgänger" is a loanword from German, in which language it is written (as with any German noun) with an initial capital letter: Doppelgänger. The word derives from Doppel ("double") and Gänger ("goer").

In English, the word is conventionally uncapitalized ("doppelgänger"). It is also common to drop the German diacritic, umlaut, from the letter "ä," writing "doppelganger," although in German the correct spelling without the umlaut would actually be "Doppelgaenger."

In the vernacular, "Doppelgänger" has come to refer to any double or look-alike of a person—most commonly an "evil twin"—or to bilocation. It is an exact replica of a specific human being.

The word is also used to describe a phenomenon whereby one catches his own image out of the corner of his eye. In some traditions, seeing one's own doppelgänger is an omen of death, or a warning of an aproaching danger. A doppelgänger seen by a person's friends or relatives may sometimes bring bad luck, or indicate an approaching health problem.

Crunch Time

2010-06-01T18:36:00.003+08:00

This is the first time I'm goihg through hell contemplating on a big decision. Where do we live?

Simple question. I've never had a hard time deciding on the things i'm about to do, big or small, relevant or not, no regrets.

This time, thingking of it makes me dizzy.

I've made all types of decisions by myself since I was a child, I've always been strong headed. I made sure it was my decision and it was what I wanted, and then I run and go for it. Was so self-serving I never once hesitated on what I wanted and went for it, that it made that one of my faulty traits.

This time, i'm still torn between the intitial 'here' , where we met, where we fought, lived, work, work, where you got pregnant- and basically where we talked about our future. It was here, and originally , that plan was 'here'

or the 'there', I've no idea of, don't know anybody, don;t know the dialect, smaller city, i guess makes it more comfortable im not sure, but it is also there ' where you're family is and where the cheaper house is, where the cheaper living is.

First smiles

2010-05-22T11:37:00.005+08:00

Mommy informed me your hearing and sight are developing more obviously.

It's just that I've been away for only three days, and you start smiling more frequently? How life can be so unfair. I saw you smile a couple of times, but not like that! (see above picture)

You're 13 days old, please don't hurry. I'm 20 plus years something and I'm almost never in a hurry. Please wait for daddy on thursday, don't even dare to start talking or walking or anything between today and Thursday or i'll tsinelas you.

Even though people jokingly, and continuously express their awe and bewilderment on how apparent our skin tones differ, and how you look more like your mother or everyone else except me, in color and eyes, and face, I still believe you look like daddy.

Just as how the Lola's and Lolo's (both sides) think you look like them, and my brothers and mommy's siblings think so too. The neighbors didn't seem to react , good thing.

Let's just say everybody looks like you, for now. But later on, they'd know how handsome you and daddy really are.

Regardless of looks, I know you want to be an Astronaut someday. Seriously?

You know how you managed to unwrap yourself in the nursery repeatedly, when all others were silently content inside their cocoons.

Or how you listened attentively to elmo's incessant and almost demented laughing with Big Bird just because they'll be taking a break from play, though sang about it.

And how you looked at daddy when I tried my best to make all kinds of faces, and twitching, becoming a professinal face distortionist, to try and stimulate your brain, according to them, though I don't think you need that much stimulation.

With almost all possible sound imaginable I could produce, from a Zergling Monkey to a high pitched a choo choo choo repeat 10x, to a kroo kroo that sounds like a crossbreed species of a parrot and a steam engine train, I tried and I knew you were listening.

Nevertheless, you stopped crying, and looked intently at me and I knew you were indeed paying attention, with that "What the #$! is this" expression in your eyes.

You don't have to thank me, it;s better that way than leave you crying like a baby, staring at nowhere, though that practice can hone your vocals too I guess. Perhaps the first Filipino Philippine Idol?

Seriously the First Filipino Astronaut? I'd have no choice but to support you

Postpartum Fathers

2010-05-14T22:19:00.001+08:00

Postpartum Fathers

Source: www.childdevelopmentinfo.com/.../newborn_baby.shtml

Feelings after Birth. Fathers who are present at birth are, more often than mothers, captured by the baby immediately. Whereas women may need minutes, hours, or a few days to feel connected to the baby, fathers often feel the power of this connection at the moment of birth. Unless the mother or baby is in some danger just after birth, the father is likely to find these moments life-changing and exquisite. These feelings are often blended with a sudden awareness of exhaustion.

A father also experiences new feelings about his mate. He may speak of his amazement at her courage, strength, and endurance during labor. He now faces the task of integrating his memory of her in labor with his previous knowledge and feelings about her.

A father may have to work through feelings he experienced while supporting the mother in labor. One of the most common feelings fathers speak about after labor is that of helplessness. Unless he is told, a man may not know how much his presence and emotional support really meant to the laboring woman.

A man may also feel that the labor experience has altered his whole life view. He may have gained a sense of the miraculous and spiritual, of a deeper meaning to life.

Not all fathers, of course, are able to share the birth experience. A lot of fathers who missed their babies' births worry that not having been there will affect their relationships with their babies. Birth is a special moment in the parent-child relationship, but it is only one moment. The years of child rearing provide many other shared moments that are just as important in the development of a relationship between father and child.

Delayed post

2010-05-14T20:18:00.005+08:00

I don't care what other people might say about blogging. No matter how senseless, how un-edited and superficial this first draft writing is, it still is a form of literature just like the traditional diaries. It is though, semi-private. Meaning there's a big chance that a blogger would write something without the intention or any expectations of an audience.

Alright, so today I blog about how work is in a call center, which I would guess is part corporate world, really is sometimes a pain in the *(&.

"Gaguhan lang yan", I remember somebody saying, in reference to climbing up the corporate ladder (?). During a heated argument, fueled with alcohol, I remember saying how I would rather be a carpenter and be accounted and assessed based on the number of nails I hammer, or pillars I erect. I think there's just so many things in promoting yourself to position in a corporate world that has nothing to do with your exact job capabilities.

There is, most importantly I guess, your people's perception. How do people see you? regardless of what you really are. It is excruciatingly more disdainful to step inside the office and pose as somebody with such leadership qualities, than to actually do the day's task.

They are habits you must form, I guess I read about that, habits that you must project in every conversation, in every move , and even thought you make.

The slightest hand gesture or body language can easily topple your entire self-made "self" and ruin your career, except if your exceptionally gifted that going through those wouldn't be necessary.

Ok. So what the heck. I've been doing my job with all honesty, following process to point. The scores you give your employees represent them, and who wouldn't want to take advantage of the tremendous loopholes that splatter the scoring system?

I know everybody knows, I was told to never think that they know nothing about the irregularities. It's a grand understatement, given that if I were granted to try and fix it, and have everybody follow the process to the point, there will only be a handful of people left with a job.

So there it is, I guess i'm not fit for it, not up for the mechanisms on how people are judged for their work, and the habits one has to endure to have people judge you the way you want to be judged. But then, nobody's going to pay me even half of what i'm currentyl receiving no matter how many nails I hammer.

Little prince

2010-05-13T20:56:00.007+08:00

I can't say enough. WIth too much going on right now, with the job, the country, the tv, the people around, there's no taking my eyes off of him , little prince. Can't wait for jhim to grow up. Darn, 3 months is a very long time, though I feel I can sit here look at his face asleep for that amount of time without budging. Time is not of the essence right now, I think i can keep up with you, now matter the demands.

Can't wait for you to grow up at all. I stir you up a bit hoping a little that YOu may awake, 30 minutes before your scheduled milk drinking session. Bring it on my prince, I have the energy of a kid to cope up with the playing, I will not rest.

You and mommy are both healthy, that I thank GOd. Blessed and true, it is true what they say,what a child can bring, I nefver expected everything will be true, but they are as of the moment.

I'm so proud of your mom too for going through the delivery.

I never expected to take the role of the anxious dad, but hell I was.

If only i can take and bear the pain instead of your mommy, I would. But i guess there's some other challenges in stored for dad ei?

I've been looking at you even more than i've looked at your mother, or at any girl before for that matter. You must be special. You are, you should be.

The first time I stood in front of the nursery, I took my stand , stood there and watched your face with renewed enthusiasm and fresh childlike inspections- for so long I didn't know how long I stared. Too many things to write down, too many things I want to remembr, but i guess i'd just have to enjoy and cherish each second then.

Here's to one more reason for me to blog!

I guess if there's a reason why blogging was created, it should be to either post your pet cat's photos or of course your beloved ones.

At Last

2010-04-11T14:17:00.002+08:00

At Last by

At last
my love has come along
my lonely days over
and life is like a song

Ooh, yeah, yeah
At last
the skies above are blue
My heart was wrapped up in clover
the night I looked at you

I found a dream
that I could speak to
A dream that I
can call my own
I found a thrill
to press my cheek to
A thrill that I have never known
Ohh, yeah, yeah

You smile
you smile
Ooh and then the spell was cast
And here we are in heaven
for you are mine at last

So little time? so much to do?

2010-04-05T10:05:00.002+08:00

It's been a while since I logged in to my weblog to blog. I think I have a lot of things that I have been wanting to write about, you know. Like how to grow up , and do you have to outgrow the things you want to grow up? Somewhere along those lines.

Anyway, tHe Deftones my favorite band just released a new album. Actually, it's yet to be released by May, but something leaked, yes leaked into the world wide web, so who wouldn't? I'd buy the album if they release it here in the Philippines, which I doubt. And maybe I'd do the review on the album entitled Diamond eyes, next time.

Boxing is back, and I just enrolled myself in it. Got tired of trying to cope up without luck, with the tons of articles about Manny The GOD Pacquiao, in mannypacquiao.ph, but got so tired talking and debating about Mayweather VS Pacquiao, I thought it would be sick to just Box. Tore up my muscles but it was hell Fun. I'd get into that later too I guess.

A lot of things are back. Baseball is back, and Curtis Granderson, one of my idol Outfielders is with the Yankees! and he hit a Homerun the first time he held a bat as a Yankee.

Just a great way to open the season. And I really still don't have an idea how to squeeze weekly baseball games with Koreans in my schedule, it's not like I am an employee with a schedule, plus, how about weekly basketball games? And boxing 3 times a week.

But wait, I've been wanting to play my MLB the SHOW in my classic PS2, and NFS Carbon too.

Argh, to many things to do? I mean to play.

It's just hard if you've lost the ability to outgrow the things you like to do, and just lose the time for them just because you're an employee with a schedule and some other things to do.

It's just probably awkward to be feeling like you've lost the ability not only to outgrow these things, but to lose the ability to grow - up! in that people's definition of growing up. It's hard , especially now that growing up is taking me now to playing field, and life just poked me to step up to the plate. lol

To mention that it's wedding week , isasakal ka na, este ikakasal, and I am on leave for a week, and my parents, my 84 year old Lola and my little brother are all here in a province, not even Cebu, and had just arrived from a plane ride and an 8 hour bus flight, just 3 days after I did. And we'll be heading back to our designated places 3 days from now, and she's due the first week of May, and I am yet to get a haircut, accompany people around a city i've only been only 3 times, and head back to work, and do all these things, and who needs a schedule?

I'm not willing to outgrow these things that I love just to grow up. I'll continue to blog and write like this, sometimes like that, and sometimes like what? and continue to play the sports, listen to the same band, the same games, the same people. Growing up does not warrant outgrowing the things that make you who you are, and who said marriage is GAME OVER?

Marriage should look like a game, that will be played in a totally different console all together. Moving from multiplayer online Level Up Games to a Role Playing Mission game that has no final innings or quarters or rounds, nor a restart button, and will loop forward, eternally. Growing up, eh? :) GTG!

Bloody Kit

2009-12-21T16:34:00.003+08:00

"Are you not afraid?" she asked trying not to look at him, he stood with arms folded, resting the back against one of the emergency room's walls. This girl sat on a wheel chair, half conscious, as if her crying was work, a mark of blood looked like drying at the back of her head, crumpled within the strands of messy hair, a victim of robbery, the wound gashing because accordingly, the thief hit her with a rock.

It must have hurt, but she'll live though' he thought. Even those women in the streets with two or more children looked like they're living through it. He looked back at her, made sure he'd look her in the eyes and see what emotions were there or perhaps, what she was thinking. Was I afraid for the bloodied girl in the wheelchair, or for the most beautiful girl in a wooden chair next to the female doctor who smiled at her? "I am afraid, but we sure should be happy."

The truth was she was there, the woman of his wide and awake life, sitting near him like she used to, but not like she needed to worry about being far from him for a pretty long time.

After a couple of minutes, she called him out and mouthed some words that he thought he understood correctly, "medicine? I'll buy them now? ok," he replied readily. When he realized that it wasn't what she meant, he approached them and asked hesitantly what it was about. "You can buy it outside of the hospital,it's cheaper" the lady doctor with eyeglasses smiled at him too. He wondered what she's so happy about, the doctor.

He woke up in a dream where he wouldn't need anyone to allow him in, not without giving him an idea of what he should or should not do. But this is not about him or any of the invented stories. This gave him much desire and fear and hope and direction, there will be no turning to other matters without taking this, in consideration.

The victimized girl in the wheelchair never uttered a word, she seemed too exhausted to even go through the prelimenary questioning. It was scary indeed, as the red blood seemed to dry up, while I saw the marked line build up so slowly, the sense of my feet on the ground felt no less than a little gash of thin security. I thought I've always known it would happen, but never knew how to react.

"Are you not afraid?" He asked himself while she asked him the very same question, then she let out a little cry, and I hugged her. "I have never felt better, we'll live it through." Like everyone else is happy.

A very close encounter

2009-12-12T19:02:00.006+08:00

I took the bus right after work, it was around nine in the morning. I knew it was going to be a short trip compared to that Cagayan de Oro-Zamboanga city land trip I endured a couple of years ago that took only fourteen hours but felt like a week without aircondition, without flat roads, and without normal road dusts, only dusts that seemed to feel like sharp pebbles.

It should be a short trip, especially that I was about to meet some very important people. I needed to make it a short, productive and positive visit. I told myself to stay calm and promised to come back in one piece. I wasn't going to make a false impression, but I wasn't planning to NOT give an impression either.

This trip first sounded like a walk in the park, but I know now it wasn't. There wasn't any time in the past that I had to to it, and I think I don't want to and have no plans of doing it again of course.

The trip began approximately two hours from the city to the province's remote port, I lined up to eat at a designated carenderia for all passengers to eat like there's no other option, took the ferry with the bus for another two hours to the other province's remote port. I was then on the same bus for three more hours to the other province's city, something like that.

That totalled to about seven hours, including the time everyone spent eating at strategically placed eateries, the abrupt stops for chicharon, mani, water and delicacy vendors to step inside the bus to sell, if fortunate, and if fortunate still, out of the bus to get off. Though I thought the stops were more significant for people to take a leek.

I've always made sure to spend my time travelling doing something fun and productive like sleeping, but the relentless thinking prevented me from doing so. Just hours away from a very close encounter, the immininent talks on joyful subjects like labor, change and marriage, perhaps gave me more reason to keep awake.

So I sat on the bus, sat on the ferry, ate chicharon and forgot to buy water- thinking of everything else but those, while looking at the mountains or goats.

Interesting how I noticed the evolution of landscape from one remote port to one main city and vice versa.

All sorroundings change from point to point. For example, population increases as you near the city. If you place a mid point from the remote port and the designated city, in both provinces, population increases away from that midpoint.

Though there should be less population and pollution in the remote port than its city, one can see how people's use of wood, straws and nipa decreases, and how people's use of concrete, plastics and metal increases.

So I guess the more people there is, the more chances of overpopulation, and most likely, pollution.

Interestingly, the size of public transportations decreases as you near the city too, as you've noticed. I knew I was about 60-70 kilometers away from the main city once I saw a mini public bus parked along a nipa hut. Maybe it goes something like from those huge yellow aircondition buses to a mini bus, to an supersized jeepney, to a regular 16 seat jeepney, to a smaller 12 seater multicab, to a taxi, to a tricycle, to a motor habal habal, to a pedicab, to an elevator and to a button on a computer mouse.

This looks to be turning into a very long post, given that i've already skipped writing on how it began, to where it ended, then again started. The how it came to be, and how it was made to be, and how it was known, and how she did and reacted.

I'll just name this part 1, mami.

Ampatuan

2009-11-30T17:26:00.004+08:00

I had a classmate once named Ampatuan, we called him just that, Ampatuan. I think he was reasonable, he paid us some good money to do his thesis. Though I have no idea if he's part of the clan in Maguindanao, I'd assume he'd have to stay away from there, because most likely, he is clan. Apart from that, I didn't know if he had any significant knowledge, or perhaps part of the incident. I hope not.

The massacre in Maguindanao was shocking to say the least. Too many innocent, dead. It would have been a lot easier to digest if none of the dead were outside of the family. Unfortunately majority of them were, women even.

I read and I heard, spoke about it with a couple of people, thought about it a little. So I blog about it before I forget.

Yesterday, I visited some friends from my own hometown in Mindanao, they were Tausugs ,and they were Muslims. On my way, the taxi driver spoke about the massacre, and how Mindanao was different from the Visayas. He was from Sultan Kudarat, and he said it's ok if I spoke tagalog because he knew after I said my first 2 sentences that my bisaya wasn't natural, and he apologized he knew little Chavacano because I'm from Zamboanga city, which I am, in part.

According to him, the difference is that Killings here in cebu are relentless and senseless, in the streets and in the rural areas. Killings here are most often without purpose, making it more brutal, he implied.

Unlike the blood and clan wars in Mindanao, who knew who were the enemies, before shooting them down one at a time, the murders and gang wars here are just unjustifiable, and stupid.

It kind of made sense, and I nodded to whatever he said, offered my own interpretation on how back home, it's truly rare that murders are done by stabbing people at the back - without letting people know who's done it- there is always a silent code of acknowledgement even without actual confession. It was always personal, and everybody know what's going on. There were some semblance to the stories because I am from Mindanao too, the driver even assumed I was a Muslim, and I knew I know enough and have had enough experience to talk about it.

Arriving at my friend's house, I had the oppurtunity as well to listen to what he hsa to say. He had a different take on the Maguindanao massacre, and said part of it was the other party's own fault.

His revelation did not cross my mind before so I listened. Taking immorality, humanity and barbarity aside perhaps, looking into the political culture and the stronghold of the Ampatuan's business in Maguindanao, it could have gone either way. Not to mention the long and deep rivalry between the two clans - the stern warnings from the Ampatuans versus and the persistence of the victimized family. It was a question of power and territory, of pride and blood. My friend made a case that it was mostly the victim's own doing.

The word he used was "Haragan" which in Chavacano, means a deep and gross "selfishness" or "Gluttony." It was selfishness that brought them in Maguindanao, despite the warning and the imminent threats from the Ampatuans. Maguindanao wasn't their territory, they had no business there, that's just how it should be, and that's how it should be kept. Even if they pretty much knew what they were facing, and they knew that it was a grave possibility, they knew that it could happen, their being "Haragan" did not stop them from marching in.

So they were persistent, to the point of more than 50 dead. My friend almost made it sound like it, that it's the victims who's to be blamed. No, I think he believed they were indeed to be blamed. Unknowingly, I nodded - in agreement? I couldn't say, up to now.

After I stayed in their place, going home today, not surprising me was that I found myself talking with the taxi driver about the very same things. It must be the way I look with the hoodie and the place barangay I stayed in, the Tondo of Cebu, that made people think I had a lot to say about the Ampatuan incident.

Driver talked about how horrible and how important it is to line up all the Ampatuans in death row, kill all, from the ninuno, down to the last male family members who had a possible psychological make-up for the same criminal mind set.

He also spoke on how people kill in Cebu, how senseless it is to join fraternities and just be killed, senselessly. He said he once lead and founded a gang himself, but decided to just work and drive because he wanted to have 'direction.' If it was direction for a meaningful life or direction on streets, I would think it was both.

Was it because the headline today in Cebu is one that says "A gang member was beheaded," it made a lot of sense for him to talk about these. I agreed and nodded to whatever he said, almost to the point of boredom. Most of what they said I had a hard time understanding, he did not understand some things I said I had to repeat them, some of the visayan words did not register in my head, and offered my own obvious repeated opinions as well.

He wasn't done talking even after I stepped out of the taxi.

I watched tv and slept, and dreamt of somebody quietly dying.

I woke up and went on, did not find any reason or interest in finding out more facts on the Ampatuan Killings, the beheaded gang leader, the Mindanao or Visayan killing trends and behaviours - It takes too much energy to try, but one thing I've thought about is if Ampatuan, my old classmate, have learned to write his own thesis.

Pacquiao - Cotto Bluburbs

2009-11-20T18:52:00.003+08:00

I've gone through almost all pacquiao-cotto/mayweather articles over the net for the last 2 weeks, I just can't get enough of the all the hype in boxing recently. It's not only because I am Filipino and I root for Pacman, though I loss to a bet, a can of soda to one of my insistent work mate, I guess everyone's right saying boxing is back and Pacman and Mayweather should lead bring boxing back the way it used to be.

The intrigue and attention given to Pacquiao's alleged extra curricular romantic activities though I think, was just too much, and here people even start to talk about moral obligation. Pacquiao's not a priest, and being a very well knownpersonality in the Philippines didn't come with such job description. What responsibility are they talking about? Nobody told them to look up to Pacquiao as a father, husband or whatever. I say screw that, who in the hell is society to demand social obligation from someone? especially from someone who has already given more than enough share of his success as a boxer, and with true generosity? He has all the money and all the fame, so just let him be, whether Pacman commits whatever mistake (?) or innanities outside of everybody else's social and moral spectrum, just keep it to yourselves. People are just wasting their mind and effort, going through this, not to mention bringing up unsolicited disctractions and unwanted emotional pains perhaps, to Jinky and whoever.

Anyway, going back, I think Mayweather has been doing great in promoting himself as a popular boxer, acting, and doing the best he can to grab the right amount of attention to take the role of villain as they say. But I think this time, there's no more ducking for him, I bet he's thinking of ways on how to duck Pacquiao to no avail. It would be impossible for Mayweather to avoid this now and not be seen as a coward who couldn't put his 40-0 record on the line. The public wasn't this demanding when he had the better chance to face other opponents whom he ducked successfully, Cotto included. Everyone wants to see the fight, so he better start thinking of that 40-0 record and start training to keep it.

I think Pacquiao's greatness comes from almost all aspect of his game, the work ethic, the mental rigidity, the focus and infallible self-determination. Walking towards the ring, I thought Cotto was just nervous, not so often can you see a boxer, or any high class athlete, come to the face the challenge this way. It's always the serious look and the fighting poker face that you see, so everyone must have thought that this was how one should normally arrive, not knowing that it's only nerves and anxiety and uncertainty that's eating them up. Pacquiao wasn't, I almost thought he was thinking about the next title of his superhero movie while walking towards the ring, I don't know how such world class athletes do it, whether they're about to embark on the biggest fight/game of their lives or whatever. It's just heroic, god-like. Mental toughness at it's purest form.

The fight ended when Cotto knew he couldn't hurt Pacquiao, Pacquiao knew Cotto couldn't hurt him, and when Cotto knew there were just punches that he wouldn't be able to see and might hurt and bring him down. THen he started backing away. It was all over.

Mayweather is all over the place now saying how Pacquiao is not stepping up to the plate and not being a man, saying Pacquiao does not have the balls to challenge Mayweather straight to his face. I didn't think Pacquiao thought about it that way, but i'm pretty sure he'd like to take beat up the pretty boy.

Mayweather is running out of space he better start training - and I hope negotionations will go smoothly, which I doubt, at least it should come to an agreement.

Of content

2009-06-05T06:04:00.004+08:00

He did try to write down some but couldn't quite put it in the way that it should be put. There is something inexplicably special about how things could not be put and something superficial with something that can be put, that is without meaning. Cliches would be a good rational place to begin with, though that means writing them again will just prove the fact that he was all well and content. He wrote it down like boredom brought it in, not without deleting them without thinking twice.

1st Fastball Softball Tournament ends

2009-05-25T22:39:00.008+08:00

Congratulations to Fastball Blue Angels for winning 3rd place in the recently concluded 1st Fastball Softball Tournament, congratulations to Harbstarken for winning the championship game against the International Phillies.

The Angels, after losing 15-4 against tourney champions Harbstarken, went over to husstle their way to beat Team Korea and even needed an extra inning,to end perhaps the most exciting game we've played throughout the tournament. However, you can click on the link and visit fastballcebu.com for the rest of the tournament details, I can't write the details of the games, I was playing! hehe

I was not exactly on the right place during the game to be writing about it, I don't even remember how many runs I've made or how many strikes I took. But i remember hitting a triple, and bruising my right knee, my hip and my right elbow on lousy attempts of base sliding, head first. Growing up with the sport, I never had the chance to practice base sliding.

Moving ahead, I would like to thank extra joss, (3 packs of them) for aiding me throughout the entire afternoon during game day, playing without sleep, going straight to the field after 10 hours of call center work. Nevertheless, I wouldn't have done it without those extra joss, though I would not advise drinking 3 packs in one gulp, it had been 2 days of sleeping and eating and rest, still my body aches like I actually need it.

More importantly, I have always believed that baseball is one of the sports that we Filipinos can strive in. We actually excelled during the early 1900's in Asia, the Japanese just won their second world series, and we are just as small and stocky as we should be. I just have this theory that Filipinos, does not have enough patience and passion for baseball, as we do basketball, perhaps due to factors of accessiblity, the personal touch and feel of basketball, growing up as PBA fans, which we don't have for baseball. We dont have enough diamond fields to bring enough players. We look at baseball as a fun sport, yet we should be seeing baseball as a true competitive sport. We need sports like we need movies, they just have to be personal and readily available, so we yell and enjoy basketball better.

But there are many of us out there, baseball enthusiasts, who grew up loving the sport, the smell of grass and the thrill of plays and runs. It's a beautiful sport, my father taught me hard, I learned well but I am no manny pacquiao, and then I was caught with basketball too, and that's another story.

I am more than wiling to promote the sport and help, to whatever I can, to lift baseball into the limelight. I think Fastball Cebu with former UP Cebu star pitcher, owner Jesse Bernad will be a great venue to start reviving the sport, no not reviving, it is beginning a new era of baseball/softball generation of international talents. Anyone interested, join us and visit fastballcebu.com - The 1st Fastball Softball Tournament may have just ended last saturday, but it surely is just the beginning.

Never was a hard hitter, hit 1 homerun in the homerun derby at least. :)

Blogging

2009-05-23T01:12:00.003+08:00

I've just realized. I've been with facebook, is addicted to mafia, vampire, street wars, and farming. I've just realized, nothing beats old style blogging. Yeah!

Lunch sa Tanghali

2009-01-13T20:43:00.003+08:00

Masarap pa lang kumain ng Lunch sa Tanghali. Pag call center agent ka, bihira man mangyari, mangyayari din. Salamat naman at umaga ka nang nagising, at gabi ka na rin natulog. Di pa man umabot ng isang taon, wasak na ang tulog mo. Tulog ko, hindi na maiayos laban sa orasan. Pero kelangan, mahirap man, kelangan mo ng pera. Kaya tulog na

As of late

2009-01-13T20:27:00.002+08:00

It is when I'm with you that I'm missing you, who'd wonder, and love you and think of you, and think of you in bulks.

And I can't even imagine how it is when you're not near.

Though to grip the fangs that is doubt, the heavy evenings release without notice as long as you are near, or anywhere at least.

I have change, indefinitely.

Snatch a day

2008-11-20T17:22:00.008+08:00

Snatching a day off a somewhat busy schedule is sort of an unclear thing to do. I mean, you get a day, or two, without work, but then it's entirely without use, unless you get to do something else that could, at any attempt, get your mind off of work. But I never thought some other unusual and suprising attempts were made on my cellphone on that day.

So I decided to go to the beach, with some old friends, and planned to try a new sport, its called skim boarding, which mother incidentally refered to as "skin" boarding over the phone, sorry if I did not have the headset on, I mis pronounced. Skim boarding was tough and it hurt too, it left me bruises, ankle sprain, and almost dislocated my right shoulder - good thing I knew how to fall with my back and chin tuck in- but it still did not help me with the skim part. I couldn't imagine how "skin" boarding would be like, mother, just as I still could not imagine how skim boarding feels, truly.

But before those, of course I had to be on a jeepney on the way to the place, the four of us equally distributed to the two long seats facing each other- 3 on our side and edwin on the other, well that's not equal- but what other arrangement can you have inside a jeepney? So for the snatchers strategic delight, I was sitting beside the friend who couldn't stop joking around with jokes forced to make us laugh, though of course they often did make us laugh, I still don't know why.

So the short stout guy who looked like a mute country middle aged man sat beside me with a relatively large travelling bag on his lap, which was on my lap as well I though he was up to something. The tall dark guy sitting to his right was comfortably pressed against the short stout guy you'd thought they were conjoined twins. But of course I knew they were'nt, just look at the height difference I thought, so despite the fact that there were only the five of us on that 8 capacity seat, the idea of the two pressed side by side and against me did not make me realize at all they were snatchers, of cellphone in that particular instance- though of course I still thought someone must be up to something.

Well at some point, a thought feeling that there was something up with the arrangement got through my mind. But fortunately for the bastards, as soon and as fast as my friend's next attempt to conjure a statement, and failing to organize it as to make a humourous sense out of it, the thought slipped off my sleepy, neurotic head quite as easily. The head that did not quite feel the tires against the road, and the jeepney moving against the humidity, what more of the "pulot barya" gang who cluttered, and there were three of them, against my 6 year old dying cellphone which couldn't hold its own case cover nor turn on the camera phone, or the crazy keypads. If only I had known that it would take this much team effort, and strategic eloquence, from 3 able &*^#_%*_@ men to try and snatch my cellphone from my pocket, I could have kept this precious device inside a bank vault or something.

Well then I guess it's either because of my snatcher-look, or the shades I wore that tipped them I had a saleable phone, or they were just trying to beat a working schedule, I do not know still why me? I'v never had any problems walking around any street, anytime, worrying somebody might make a move on me-it's more like the other way around.

So the third and I would assume, the playmaker of the three eggheads sat on the seat fronting us, beside another friend. He wore eyeglasses like everybody else were supposed to wear them, and had a decent polo on too, now that doesn't suprise me at all.

Too decent in fact, that the only reason I had in mind when he, out of nowhere, kept on pestering us with the impression that he was looking for his 20 peso bill that fell somewhere behind, above, and below our feet, doing it so many times and in unusual desperation, I thought he was trying to make it look like the 20 peso bill I had in my hand was his, or the missing 20 peso bill was the only money he had left, at some point I thought I felt pity. Stupid.

But as I have said, to the snatcher's strategic delight, I was high and bloated in the mind, and with the friend's incessant laughing and laughing and story telling, there was just no way the thought that something was up - especially during that moment the polo pendejo dude intentionally tapped and moved my leg away in search for his missing 20 peso bill, which in the first place, wasn't missing- nothing and no one gave me the slightest hint that the stout dude beside me was busy freeing up my aged cellphone from my right pant pocket.

To be continued...

Good Morning

2008-11-07T18:38:00.004+08:00

Sometimes, you just need to wake up in the morning. And for months, today, was the first time it actually felt like waking up in the morning. I am convinced at to some point, that we are designed just to do that. Wake up in the Morning. you can wake up in the evening all you want but when you grew up, and is still growing up, it's embedded in the deepest cells of brain and you can not imagine- it's like a given, you have no choice, even the rooster would know- you are to wake up in the morning.

But then of course, i woke up in the evening a bit later after that. IT feels good. I get confused sometimes, i usually defend myself, and the meds kicks me back in the grounds steady-(I found some sanctuary of a drug store that handed me my stuff without the paper-halleluyah). While I try, firing aimlessly at the subtle grounds to keep at rest. But no matter, I am in my blog- Able. Able to at least type down some sense at best I could, like these are in form.

Give it to work, give it to sensations of plastic hardware and cartoon like cardboards that were supposed to be real. Give it to the endless numbing, red flashes that you feel porbing at the sides of your skull- you don't even want to start with the descriptions- point is, still waking up in the morning could make them go away-SOmehow, Surprise.

Wake up in the morning, you'll wake up much better.

But then, was it the beer?

What's up

2008-08-13T22:41:00.002+08:00

So i'm here in cebu. tagal ko ng hindi nag blog. Tatrabaho na ko. Call boy. Yesterday I took my first call, no , first 30 calls? I lost count. It was great. It was tiring. It sucked. I just found out, well I thought I've known it for too long, that I am naturally a kind person. I tried to please every person that called, who needed something, who didn't know anything, and I did my best, at times went beyond and outside the scope of what the job actually wanted me to do. I did not follow the rule book, I totally forgot about that.

I totally forgot about many things, when I started last june 23. The schedule and the work, despite the fact that this is my first true job at 25, turned my mind insde out. I couldn't quite explain. It is hard coping up and fighting change, but I believe I have, and still will.

I miss home. I miss people. I miss my old self. Now I wake up and clean and do some houseled chore and do some carpentry and fix stuff just to forget about work and give my brain some air to breathe. I work out my ass to relieve the stress, the anxiety, the mental fatigue.

It is tiring. It is fun. For the next couple of months, I'd know if there something to look forward to with the job. IF there's none, then I'd have to move to the alternatives.

So now I have to go back to work. Salamat at may na isulat ako dito. naka ng. :) Type rest of the post here

Tsk

2008-08-04T12:48:00.001+08:00

The demand could not meet the supply. He could visit, yet he should probably. But last night wasn't much of a reality as much as it could have been, so he longed and belonged perhaps, and not quite. THe thoughts rushed indecisively, without hand. Even if the months could feel like years though before it did not seem like it. He longed for her but it wasn't quite he expected of it. Yet it was more than was expected. Call center job, didn't feel quite one. It should tomorrow and later. Before focus is lost.

taga walis ng bomba

2008-06-17T20:56:00.004+08:00

ok. so i'm addicted to minesweeper. I guess that would mean either i'm good at it or i have nothing else to do with the computer. When i was younger i can play for days with any kind of console, in fact, any type of game, may it be mario and luigi or nba live.

but now i'm stuck with minesweeper. but that doesn't mean i'm getting old. it's just that i'm dying to play Call of Duty 4 and GTA 4 and i don't have the money. SO i settle with minesweeper. It's challenging enough that i sometimes forget and lose track of time, though that's something i do a lot.

I literally lose my balance out of disorientation and derealization after hours of minesweeping. it's like a headache, like coming out of an astronaut simulated training of sorts. Still, i'm proud of my 129 new expert record. Just did it yesterday and i almost wanted to treat everyone out for some cases of red horse. o yeah.

Here you go. though i still don't know how to convert that minesweeper clone video MVF file so i can upload it on youtube. Anyone have an idea? By the way, the world record for expert level is 37 seconds by Dion Tiu, but i don't give a )(*&. pinagpawisan ko to! tangina. hehehe

tara na't mag walis pa ng bomba. yeah

I want to learn Tennis

2008-06-05T21:18:00.002+08:00

I've never had any particular reason to watch any tennis, i had one attempt to learn the sport, but i hit the balls too hard i ran out of breath and got tired more out of picking up the balls than actually hitting them.

The closest tennis i've ever played were those times when we were little and we used to play baseball using tennis balls with my neighbors, and hitting each one, and losing each one everytime.

It was Baby my neighbor who hit most of the tennis balls we had to oblivion.

And so i learned after a couple of years that he was one of the Philippine Little Leaguers who won the world championships and was one of their best hitters. tsk. no wonder.

But not after seeing Dementieva,who looked so *&^) in pink and Sharapova of course. They make me want to watch tennis, they make want to go to Russia. *()^

But then they were knocked out by their fellow Russian Safina, who had this "impossible is nothing" attitude. yeah. Idol.

Tennis is a beautiful sport.

Pero manononood na lang ako. tangna :)

Waking up to Bombings, again.

2008-05-29T11:52:00.004+08:00

Septic Bombing

Astig. Puno na pala ang septic tank namin. nyahaha. Meron na kayang nag blog about sa septic tank nila? ehe. I took a video of the entire process of sucking those shit out our septic tank. It looked like it was fun. Putangina. lolz While 500 kilometers away, a bomb just exploded in the Airbase. Well this is a much safer bombing, binomba ang septic tank namin ayos. Ayos. ayos. lolz I was expecting some mindboggling, hair splitting, brain damaging stench to come out of the shit hole but there wasn't any.

The secret is that special powder cholrine, for only 140 per kilo that neutralized the stink. That's what you call time deposit, years of gathering and protecting those shit makes the process of sucking it out more challenging, so the septic shit expert said. Great. Our toilet looked as brand as new. I can't wait to try it out. Shit. I have to buy a cigarette. Pasensya sa mga kumakain.

I just wish I can upload the septic bombing video here. shit. ulit. cheers!

Pistons Bombing

They were bombed by the Celtics (Bakit di na lang Boston Septik? mas bagay diba?)The Pistons trailed as much as 17 in the 2nd quarter and as little as 3 during the last seconds of game 5 of the Eastern Conference NBA Finals. They just fell short of winning another road game against the overrated Celtics. I'd still stick to my prediction though. SPURS VS PISTONS in the NBA Finals.

Someone said Superstars win championships. Tangina. Playoff experience wins championships. The Pistons will win the next two, kung hinde, papaputol ko buhok ko tangina. (plano ko naman talaga yun). Go Pistons. boo Lakers, Boo Celtics. Go Spurs, kahit minsan Ginobli plays half consciously, and they are not as boring as they play, they just look boring.

Again, my Fearless Forecast: Spurs and Pistons NBA Finals 2008

EAAB Bombing

Zamboanga City- It was in front of Edwin Andrews Airbase, the AMWSLAI Building where, everyday, civilians gathered and waited to board the C-130, most of the time, side by side with many Filipino military soldiers. The building is right outside the gates of EAAB, along the public road.

My father was right, they should have at least not given those scumbags this brilliant idea of killing some military by simply pretending to be a passenger, leaving the bag (which had the bomb) behind a split type airconditioner compressor (condenser?), which of course, gave the bomb detonation more splinters and damage fire power.

There were always civilians and military outside that AMWSLAI building, with their baggage, waiting, sitting, standing, rain or shine, waiting for the C-130. It just so happened that those scumbags were either just too stupid, or too mathematically incorrect, that they missed the soldiers, for the bomb exploded shortly after the military soldiers entered the Airbase. They were surely the target of this particular bomb, and not those poor civilians.

It's a shame how the AFP could not even provide their own personnel the appropriate privilege and protection by not leaving them everyday, out along a public road, out in the public, to wait for hours for their delapidated C-130's, which flies like it only has a single engine and would anytime fall crashing down everywhere.

The AFP could have at least had the initiative to provide their military a "safer place"(?) inside the barracks, and inside the Airbase. If they did just that, the brilliant idea of killing some military wouldn't have come up.

I woke up to bombings this day and if only I had a connector for my cellphone to this PC, I would have uploaded my amateur reuters cnn news coverage, a close up view of the wrecked building, and concrete floors, with all the ambulances that sirened back and forth, and all the spectators, the lucky would be passengers, the soldiers, the colonel and all the noise and unrest.

If it wasn't for my father, I wouldn't have been able to get past 4 marine block posts who tried to control the gathering crowd. So I was there within the police line do not cross yellow tapes, with all the media and investigators.

It was a 3 storey building, and the windows at the most top were as broken as the concrete road below. Two staffs of Congresswoman Beng Climaco was injured, and as far as I know, and heard, 2 people were confirmed to have died.

So I woke up with a headache. Like I was drunk last night, which I was. My mother thought she heard a sound that sounded like a bomb, and then she was right. The last time I posted something about a bomb it detonated approximately 1 kilometer away from our house. This time it detonated approximately 500 kilometers away from our house. Do the math. I think we have to move.

Blow of the Void

2008-05-23T18:17:00.003+08:00

No matter how hard I try to not talk about this thing, I will. But then, wala akong pera, and I have a date tomorrow. If there's anything worse than that, I'd like to know. GAD! kung di lang siya dyosa. tang ina. :) BLow of the Void (void=yung bulsa ko is in a void) syet.

"I have the true feeling of myself only when I am unbearably unhappy”-Franz Kafka /...unbearaby 'have no money'. -rbs

The Filthy Filth

2008-05-18T19:52:00.004+08:00

This is getting frustrating. It is when the right things seem to fall in place, and it is when an explanation seeme too impossible for anyone to understand.

It is when it's getting better, and it is when they begin to wonder howcome?

It is when i'm getting well (i think) and it is when they start to doubt.

It is frustrating.

I can't even teach anyone how to finish a rubix cube, how do I, or anyone else for that matter, expect me to explain this filthy filth that I've had for years,and ironically a few people just knew about it now, and wondered howcome?.

So they wonder and look at me with that look that cripples. What can I do, I just keep silent like I haven't said anything at all.

There's little hope explaining, you just wouldn't understand.

Unless you attend a two week seminar headed by me, of course, perhaps you'd understand just enough to get those scattered nails out of your head and not look at me like that, and it's not helping.

The Filth Defined

2008-05-16T20:12:00.005+08:00

Depersonalization disorder consists of persistent or recurrent feelings of being detached from one's body or mental processes, usually with a feeling of being an outside observer of one's life. It is often triggered by severe stress. Diagnosis is by history. Treatment consists of psychotherapy.

The experience of depersonalization is common, frequently occurring in connection with life-threatening danger, such as accidents, assaults, and serious illnesses and injuries; it can occur as a symptom in many mental disorders and seizure disorders. When depersonalization occurs independently of any other mental or physical disorder and is persistent or recurrent, depersonalization disorder is present. It is estimated to occur in about 2% of the general population.

Symptoms, Signs, and Diagnosis

Patients have a distorted perception of themselves, their bodies, and their lives, wh ich can make them profoundly uncomfortable. A person may feel unreal, as if he is an automaton or is dreaming. Often the symptoms are transient and accompanied by anxiety, panic, or phobic symptoms. However, symptoms can be chronic.

Patients often have great difficulty describing their symptoms and may fear or believe they are going crazy. They always retain the knowledge that their “unreal” experiences are not real but, rather, are just the way that they feel.

Diagnosis is based on the symptoms, after ruling out physical disorders, substance abuse, and other general mental disorders (especially anxiety and depression) and other dissociative disorders. Psychologic tests and special interviews are helpful.

Prognosis and Treatment

The feeling of depersonalization is often transient and resolves spontaneously. Even when it persists or is recurrent, some patients are minimally impaired if they can suppress the feeling of depersonalization by keeping their mind busy and focusing on other thoughts. Other patients become disabled by the chronic sense of estrangement or by the accompanying anxiety or depression.

Complete recovery is possible for many patients, especially those whose symptoms occur in connection with stresses that can be dealt with in treatment and those whose symptoms have not been protracted. Some patients gradually improve without intervention. Some may progress to more chronic and refractory depersonalization.

Treatment must address all stresses associated with the onset of the disorder as well as earlier stresses, such as childhood emotional abuse or neglect, which may have predisposed patients to later mental insults that trigger the onset of depersonalization. Various psychotherapies (eg, psychodynamic psychotherapy, cognitive behavior therapy, hypnosis) are successful for some patients. Cognitive techniques can help block obsessive thinking about the unreal state of being. Behavioral techniques can help patients engage in tasks that distract them from the depersonalization. Grounding techniques may help patients feel more well-grounded and real in the moment.

Other mental disorders, which are often associated with or precipitated by depersonalization, must be treated. Anxiolytics and antidepressants help some patients, mainly those in whom coexisting anxiety or depression accentuates the depersonalization. --------------------------------

In addition, it just bothers me how, here in the Philippines, a person is ill when he decides to see an Albularyo or a quack doctor, and is terribly mentally "psychotic" almost 'schizophrenically'ILL when he decides to see a professional psychiatrist. tsk tsk. And to think I am the only Filipino, (and i haven't seen an Asian person post in the site), the last time i checked, who is a member of www.dpselfhelp.com, a depersonalization community devoted entirely for the awareness on depersonalization as a separate disorder. There's the belief that DP and DR for that matter are unique, isolated illnesses in themselves, and are not just symptoms of another disorder.

I've been a member since 2003 and has seen the progress and the advocation of the dp sufferers, or for some who thinks they have dp, while they attempt to educate the people and find solutions to the problem. They even wrote to Oprah to take on the subject in her show, though I saw an episode dedicated entirely for Bipolar disorder, which is somewhat a worse condition, only because the symptoms are much clearer and evident.

Nevertheless, I'm a firm believer that there are many sufferers out there who are just afraid to tell, or could not comprehend at all, and even worse, have misunderstood their illness in a perilous and dangerous manner that could just lead them in the wrong direction.

The Filth II

2008-05-13T17:46:00.003+08:00

I don't know where to start. I feel like I can write a novel or something. The last post was the most honest post i've written the past couple of years. I'm just glad this is somewhat a private blog. :) I feel like I have AIDS or something. Tangina :)

The Filth

2008-05-08T18:30:00.005+08:00

After 2 and a half month with benzo and prodin, to say that a lot of things have changed may or may not be an understatement. I understand the situation of dealing with GAD, dp, dr and everything in between for 5 years, but to express it in words is quite impossible. But I will make such an attempt. I've been working out, i have developed my own six pack abs. I've been playing basketball with the ATeneo varsity team for the last 5 days and played with them I did. It's almost as if all those energy, bottled up inside for 5 years, is coming out in frantic haste, in enormous bulks. I am rejuvinated. I feel like I'm 18 again! no kidding.

ALthough I could not understand, and I am confused most of the time, and I am thankful for this tremendous improvement.

I'd like to name it the Filth. When I am in the Filth before, I could not resist, i could not comprehend, I suffer without choice. When I am in the Filth now i could see things more clearly, or so I believe, but that's saying something. And while my beautiful doctor sits on her chair, staring at me, throwing questions which I totally have personal knowledge of their origins, I wonder how could such a four cornered clinic could become my sanctuary, like a church. "When was the last time you cried?" she asked 2 and a half months ago, "A very very long time ago doc." After a short opening up and psychiatrict discussion, "Well, you know what tim... you're not going crazy." And so I cried, and that's an understatement.

After 2 and a half months with benzo and prodin I could see clearer, I could feel more, I've thought about thinking of my thought much less, yet I am still in doubt of course. What do you expect? You've been in an intimate relationship for 5 years with something that follows you around like a shadow, even at night and in sleep, how could you get rid of that? It's like being married a million times, and being in love as you suffer with it a hundred million times. I surely am not well, but I could be better. I am getting better they say, but who are they to know? Who am I to know as well? Even the doctor says so, but I've read everything she had said and it doesn't make things any clearer, she acknowledges that as well. Although of course the thought of the presence of a doctor surely alliviated many of the worries, but GAD is still here and I doubt if I can let it go not without quitting on the meds. My GAD is the most powerful GAD i've known, all knowing, omnipresent unmerciful GAD.

I've had a couple of dates the last month, and I can feel the old "self" coming back, as crazy and as insane as before. Ironic,but true. But I've lost a lot as well, and gained a whole new perspective. I'm going nuts doing a lot of things these days, as if there is no tommorow. I've applied to at least 20 companies for a job. I've established new relationships quite effortlessly. That is new,or that is too old I've forgotten I could. At least for the last 5 years. I have changed, or better yet, I am back.

This is the best I can explain. I'll be reading this back after 3 more months and I have this feeling this blog will have a brand new name. Gutom na ko, kain na muna. :)

an hour of videoke, langit ay pag-ibig

2008-05-04T22:56:00.001+08:00

tangna, just got home from an hour of videoke session with a beautiful beautiful putang ina, ang gandang babae. yung videoke na by room. kelangan pa raw niyang umuwi kasi mag eempake paraw siya kasi alis siya ng manila tomorow. walastik. lahat ng tao nakatingin sakin, iniisip ano to anak ng presidente? tangna tlga...grrr. di man lang ako nakakanta ng maayos sa kakatitig. syet syet. pag balik na lang daw niya ulit. ampucha. ampucha. ampucha. ok uwi na lang. total siya naman nag da drive. tangna tlga.ang guapo ko. tang ina. syet. thank you lord

Almighty GAD

2008-04-27T10:45:00.004+08:00

It has been a 5 year relationship with you and it seems that in those five long years everyday i've always dreamt of ending it. Though of course now i couldn't quite put, when the day ends and i saw you waning, i thought i thought about you for a second and your likely absense makes a grand feeling of uncertainty and fear.

Such an understatement. It has been 5 years and it was a relationship. I've detested you and made an attempt to conquer you once, but the process was too unmanly, unhumanly, like bowing to an invisible illness, that i should never have had, so i stopped.

Now for almost two months of stirring up and down, and taking the process with an open eye, i see you peeking a little less each minute, and you are waning, but fear is as close, even closer, and your absense just makes it worse.

It is a relationship that i've built with you, no doubt. Inside, I grew up with you and never realized your unwarranted effect. Now i can go back to my seat and finish what i've left undone. Though of course not without missing you.

Perhaps this is the end of you,of us,my almighty gad. but then as usual, im still not quite sure.

AMEN

GRADUATE na KO!!

2008-04-06T20:40:00.003+08:00

GRADUATE NA KO! sa wakas after 8 years, muntik na kong gumraduate nang magna, magnanine years nyehe. so anyway, who would like a copy of our thesis entitled FEATURES OF WEBLOGS AS EVOLUTIONARY SUBGENRE OF CREATIVE NONFICTION.? maybe you're one of the blogs included in the study hehe just post your email add :) Type rest of the post here

Getting old

2007-08-27T15:19:00.000+08:00

Damn I'm getting old. Just got back from a 2 hour basketball game with younger, faster, and more skilled college students and I feel pain everywhere. I thought I gave everything I've got, running, hussling, defending, shooting, jumping, (though most of the time I walked), but I just wasn't able to keep up with the speed. They were shorter, all of them, I was taller, almost all of us were taller, but it was like I was walking and they were running, when in fact I was running my ass like crazy. It took me less than 2 rounds of running up and down the court when I felt I was running out of gas in my brain, and I was starting to breathe through my mouth. Maybe next time I'd keep an oxygen tank ready in the bench.

It's been a long time since I've had a body work out like this, and my sweat felt like dirt, like it's made up of nicotine and red horse, oozing out from my skin. It took me less than 2 minutes to injure my right forefinger, it's still swollen up to now. You get that when you try to poke the ball with your finger instead of catching it, or try to put a hole in the ball instead of trying to grab a rebound. And this is the most irritating injury one can get, because after that, it is almost next to impossible to get a decent handle of the ball, and you can't grab the ball without trying to lift and hide your injured finger. But I played on, and almost cramped my left leg. I scored points, and missed a lot of shots, there were times I thought I jumped high enough when I didn't. We gave up both games, the second game in a huge margin, because the opponents most of the time had only 2 or 3 defenders left to worry about, everyone else was either still halfway through the court, or were busy catching their breath.

It should have been an easy win, we were all taller than the opponent, and we had skills, but they were faster, not to mention serious, and had more oxygen supply in their lungs. It sucks, realizing you're starting to get old, so we drank coffee and smoked our lungs out instead. May araw din sila, next time magdadala na ko ng oxygen tank.

Kaboom

2007-08-24T11:36:00.000+08:00

There was another bomb explosion in the city the other day, I forgot what day it was. About 14 people were injured, and all was left of the concrete bench where the bomb was placed were the iron skeletal rods that stuck out like broken bones. Good thing there was no one sitting on that particular concrete bench, he or she could have been blown into pieces like those shattered glass windows of the adjacent store beside plaza pershing where the bomb was placed.

I was at home during the time, it was around 7 pm when the bomb exploded and the first time I heard the news was from watching tv patrol, and it was almost 8 pm already, and I wondered how fast news travels nowadays and no one even bothered to tell me that a bomb had been planted, and had been successfully detonated in the place where I used to come to to buy hot nilagang mani, and we were one kilometer away from that place and I didn't even feel or hear anything at all, unusual, unlike that 2005 bombing where I felt the ground made a thud like a bomb had exploded and found out later that a bomb had in fact exploded.

So Metro Manila is in an alert of some kind because this type of incidents that we have down here in the south, aside from the war in jolo and basilan, might actually reach metro manila, while I saw in the news the security measures being initiated, how bottles of perfumes or every single thing that can be a possible component of a bomb, are confiscated and not allowed inside malls any more, and how security guards and the police are now pretty much well versed and up to date with what a bomb might possibly look and not look like. While everywhere people here walked the streets this morning in herds just like before and bought nilagang mani anywhere and everywhere they wanted to, whenever and whatever, and it wouldn't really matter anyway would it? I heard someone said sarcastically the other day, "mabait ang nag lagay ng bomba, dun niya nilagay at di sa maraming tao." and someone just today "may bomb threat daw? walang pasok?"

Easy money

2007-08-20T15:40:00.000+08:00

According to Korina's show last night, one could earn up to 5, 000 US dollars just by blogging. hmm that's about ... 5 tayms 50 carry one reminder 2 , borrow 5 bring down 3 move two places to the left to the right, equals.. well, that's serious money. But then that's only for the most popular bloggers around, not to mention the most industrious, and to be popular in the blogosphere takes a lot of work, it's not just a mere coincidence.

And there are just too many bloggers and just of the same number of readers in internet,and korina didn't even say how much clicks a day a blog should generate just to get that amount of salary a month. It is not as easy as Korina made it sound,. probably a blog should at least have a couple of thousand readers a day in order to earn that much money, and out of that, at least a hundred clicks on the ads... It can be a business oppurunity of course, but it takes more than just the right amount of bloging talent and the right amount of know-how in the internet ads business or whatever that is. There's work and more work to do, just liek any other job.

My father even suggested that I should try it, and because I didn't want him to think that he had a useless son, I said I'll look into it, he even thought of blogging himself if i'd just teach him, well that I'd like to look into because he always have something to say to everyone. It's not easy blogging everyday, and it's definitely much harder writing something that is "good" and readable enough for people to appreciate, unless you're a real good blogger to lure that much readers without even trying.

Filipino's are always quick to jump into something as long as it's easy, easy money, well who isn't? But at least they should first look into it and see how blogging really is, and get disappointed. hehe I guess the population of filipino bloggers now has just doubled after Korina's show, and i'm sorry if you're one of the newbee bloggers wannabee who's dreaming of that 5,000 US dollar ( more or less 250,000 pesos) montly salary.

Plagiarizer daw ako

2007-08-08T16:45:00.000+08:00

I can't believe it. I was accused of plagiarism by my Essay teacher this afternoon!Although she kept on telling me that she was not accusing me of anything, I doubt it, because I knew that she wrote two huge 60's in both of my submitted essays. On top of that, I also saw written in red ink on my paper "Is this plagiarized?" and on the other "is this plagiarized again?" or something to that effect, i forgot because she took them back right after she interrogated me and asked me questions about what I wrote, which she was almost sure, I saw it her eyes, that I didn't know anything about.

And so she was wrong, and it was good that she realized it, because I was able to answer all her questions regarding the essays that I, yes, I, personally wrote- both of them I began writing, or should I say typing, a little over an hour before the deadline. I didn't even had time to edit any of them.

The essays were not "really good" essays, I even doubt it if they could pass as essays that are "good," I just guess my teacher didn't see me as someone who could write essays- or better still, someone who looked like a decent student. But then to some extent she may be right, I've never been a decent student, and by the looks of it, I guess I never will be. I'm graduating this oktubeer. hehe

So she took back the papers and said that she will grade them again, and I just hope she'd change those 60's into something a higher, not lower. How I wish.

This is not the first time that this has happened, and if this will happen again, I doubt if I'd take the next one as a complement.

-------------- Here's one of my plagiarized essays... pft

'Math Phobic'
Autobiographical essay

I have never been afraid of Math, I think it's my favorite subject. For some reasons I've always thought that mathematics is one of the most interesting thing that happens in school, and I must say I've always been quite good at it ever since, even up to now- or so I think.

Back in grade school, I couldn't keep myself from wondering how some of my classmates, and sometimes all of them, could not like math? How can they not love math when it always felt good to be able to solve a math problem, and solve it correctly. Then I remember feeling much better when the problem got a little harder, because the harder it was means it will take me a little more thinking and brain activity to be able to answer it. And when it got much harder still, then it becomes a challenge- and it always was a joy to be able to solve the most difficult math problem my classmates, especially those who didn't like math, had ever faced in their lives. It had always been a challenge for me being a kid, everything back then was a challenge, and all the challenges were fun, because I can rise up to almost any of them. When the math teacher comes in the classroom, I got a little more excited, a little more enthusiastic, because I knew I'd be able to breeze through each problem that the teacher throws, and it felt especially better when others start asking for help.

I've always thought about what my profession would be in the future, I remember looking forward and dreaming of being an engineer or something of the kind. Alhough one thing was absolutely sure for me back then, that math would be part of it, will have something to do with it, whatever that proffession would be. I guess it's because it's a different kind of thinking, dealing with numbers. There are no words to be read, just numbers that floats around your head. No spelling and grammar, just numbers and your tiny little brain to work with. There's less talking, and more thinking. Perhaps that's why I've always liked math, or so I think.

Growing up in a family who believes, almost too much, on how important it is for anyone to get the highest education he or she can achieve, I knew it was going to be just a walk in the park for me. I was a member of the math club my entire grade school and high school years. I've participated in competitions around the city, though it wasn't something that I thought was serious. So I didn't take it seriously enough to actually get better at math, because it didn't come as something special for me any more than an annual household chore. So I made myself to believe that I am good in math and that I couldn't get any more better- or now that I've realized, my 'math-phobic' classmates and my school made me believe that I was good in math- and that I was a fool.

I barely passed my first college algebra 6 months after I graduated high school. I got a 4.0 so I had to take a removal exam to pass the course, and I had to take the removal 3 times not without having to beg the professor to let me retake it. So I passed my first college math with a grade of 3, the lowest possible passing grade a college student can get. While almost everyone in my class during those days were getting flat 1.0's without having to break a sweat, I had to survive sleepless nights and jugs of coffee just to pass the subject. I knew I wasn't in high school anymore, but I've never dreamed of studying in NASA. It was a difficult course, in a very difficult school.

But it was only the beginning, for my fascination with math just got a little more interesting, not to mention excrutiating. Too much interesting in fact that I saw myself failing my next 3 math subjects in just over 3 semesters. I didn't get pass a single one of them, except for my first college algebra as you can recall. In retrospect, it could have been because the subject was just too hard, the teacher was just too dumb (or too bright?), the school just too difficult, or me too irresponsible why I failed, and failed hard.

I began to hate math since then, it became my least favorite subject. Attending math classes were difficult, and I began to be afraid of it, knowing how easy it was to fail all those math exams.

I began to hate math just because I needed to study to pass. I began to hate math because it wasn't easy for me anymore. Looking back, I know I have learned to like math when I was young only because it wasn't difficult. It was not because I loved numbers, it was only because it was the easiest subject, unlike the other subjects that needed much more work to pass them. I've learned to hate math in college because I needed to study, and study hard just to pass it. My entire life I didn't need to study math, and when the time came that I needed to learn it seriously, it wasn't fun anymore, so I failed. It must have been scary for my other classmates back then, now I know how, especially those who were afraid of math felt back then. Math is indeed the most interesting thing that happens in school.

Uniform policy in Ateneo de Zamboanga

2007-08-08T16:44:00.000+08:00

The newly implemented uniform policy does not fit in a University education. There’s absolutely no reason for its implementation, it is illogical and stupid to say the least.

The Adzu administration implemented the uniform policy for what reasons? Sad to say but it seems that the only logical reason is that it is merely just an act of retribution against the unruly students who cannot faithfully abide by the university dress code. Perhaps it pissed them off that they can't handle these students who take their polos off just when they get past the gates. It pissed them off that male ateneo students defies the university dress code whenever they can, and justifiably so, and defies their authority in return just as a bastard son would to a father. So they try and resolve the problem by resorting to something as far more mind bending as the dress code policy.

The implementation of the policy did not only further infuriate almost the entire male population of Adzu, but also proved how slowly this university seems to be heading to one ultimate direction- to nowhere.

A University should always be progressive, not backward. If they think that they can fool everyone by conjuring up stories, I mean surveys, (in this case, they might actually have) that majority of the Adzu population agrees with the policy, then they must have caused a great deal of insult against their own students. Why would the administration ask, and eventually leave them to decide because they are the majority, students who have got nothing to do with the males wearing uniforms? The girls? I mean the ladies.

Why would they ask the ladies, if they want their male classmates to wear a high school inspired blue or white uniform (uniform?) polo with a tansan seal, even if that particular female student has for a boyfriend, half of the male Adzu population? Since when did they bother asking the boys if they thought the girls looked sexy in theirs?

The only people worth asking are the people concerned, the people who would actually wear the uniform, pay for them, wash them, wear them, wear them, pay for them again and suffer from them. The administration simply cowered behind the girls unsolicited calls for equality and "fairness," which is as ridiculous a reason as the administrations free-for-all surveys.

Every University policy, especially those that directly concern the students, should be initially addressed and consulted to the students. It's simply protocol, unless Adzu is some kind of military training facility of course.

The surveys made was a mistake, they shouldn't have involved the females. First of all, the policy does not concern them, secondly, because they are simply the majority, and lastly because their reasons for voting for the policy is just unacceptable.

The girls believed that by making the males wear uniforms that it would make everything "fair" and equal simply because this is a policy that they feel bad about, even for themselves- especially for themselves. There's no doubt that they've wanted the same privilege and independence with regard to what one college student should and should not wear ever since.

It makes it fair and equal not because the girls would want the boys to enjoy the same glory and joy (pft) of wearing a uniform- it's just totally the opposite. The girls voted for the policy so that they wouldn't have to suffer alone from the policy. The uniform had always had a negative appeal to Adzu college students, no doubt about it. We can't blame the administration if that is how they perceive equality and fairness, but we can always question it.

Wearing a uniform defies what a University education should be. The uniform policy is not a security issue, flashing a uniform to get pass the school gates is much easier than flashing a borrowed I.D. It is definitely not an economic issue as well. A single Adzu polo can buy you 5 polo shirts to be used for the entire week without having to wash one. Besides, if the Ateneo truly believes in the virtue of frugality, then why don't they serve as good models and stop making tuition fee hikes look like an annual hiking event?

University education speaks of independence and freedom. It should imbibe in their students a sense of individuality, sense of pride and self expression- a sense of responsibility, not to confine their students in the four walls of the classroom bounded by policies that hinders their potentials to be productive and matured individuals- to stop them from being who and what they truly are.

The Ateneo is not high school where in every single student does what her seat mate does. This is not high school where in we are in constant need for assistance, counseling, no matter how unruly and irresponsible some of the students are. We do not need some kindergarten teacher to look after us like we're autistic boys and girls who might get rammed by a 10 wheeler truck. This is college for crying out loud.

College students choose their own courses, they choose what they want to become. They choose their own subjects, their own programs, even their own schedules. College students think what they want to think, and has all the freedom to choose whether he or she wants to skip the next class or not. A University prepares its students for the real world, not to confine them inside an atmosphere where in everything is prim and proper and by the book. Sense of responsibility is to be learned, not implemented. Isn't that how University education is supposed to be?

It is imperative that an academic institution such as the Adzu should have the courage to adapt to the times, and not live in its past. An 18 year old girl wearing a sleeveless shirt in the 60's is crazy, an 18 year old college girl wearing a Maria Clara today is just as crazy. If the administration aims for equality and progress, then they should take the burden off the students, not add up to it. If the Ateneo is sincere in trying to attain the quality of education and the kind of student that the Ateneo deserves, then they've just made a mistake. The Uniform policy just does not fit the kind of quality University education that the Adzu and its students deserve.

hehe

2007-07-25T17:13:00.000+08:00

RJ Ledesma Pogi from a Parallel Universe (The Philippine Star)

There are very few things that will amuse a Pinoy man for hours on end that do not require him to spend money, violate his body, or be targeted for arrest under the anti-terror law.

It is not watching The Buzz (but, um, yes, we do that too, sometimes). Nor is it practicing your Barry Manilow/Christopher Cross medley on your 500,000-plus- song nuclear-powdered Ultra Super Magic Extreme mike. It is much, much more than that.

*Waste not, want not*

There is no guiltier pleasure than playing with our own human waste. Picking your nose, peeling your scabs, nibbling off your *kalyo*, scooping out your toe jam, belching out a chorus produced from last night's dinner. These are probably te most obtainable and affordable forms of male entertainment in a developing country. There is no need for accessories or for prepaid load or for credit cards. Just your grimy fingers and a lack of good taste will do.

I think i just lost my three female readers right there.

Sigh . . . It is difficult to explain to the more hygienic algologne-wearing sex why males are obsessed with human waste products that do not require disposal via toilet paper. How can we get them to appreciate the hours we spend mining our nostrils for that large green-yellow blockage that has kept oxygen from flowing into your left lung? How do we expres our desire to mold monuments made out of wax that we have painstakingly dug out of the crevices of our ear with our little pinkie? And how do we explain that chewing off that hangnail from our big toe is merely a form of male calisthenics? If you don't have smelly armpits infested by larvae, you just wouldn't understand.

You see, men were not born with the ability to distinguish what is tasteful from what is just plain gross. If men were left to our own devices, all our jokes would simply revolve around the cornucopia of human waste that we generate. Take my four-year-old pamangkin for example. He would laugh humself into a seizure whenever the words "pee-pee", "poo-poo" or "booger" (stateside version of *siya e*) were mentioned, thinking them to be the best punch lines in the whole world. At first, I would laugh along with hum as well. THat was until he started calling me "Mr. Booger." Several. Hundred. Times. He was so funny that I wanted to take him into my arms and squeeze him until his kulangot came oozing out of his ears.

But I digress, and I hope that nephew of mine never grows pubic hair. Anyway, men just can't appreciate how tasteless their fascination with human waste is until a woman points it out to them. After all, who first spanked you when you realized that *kulangot* was not a protein requirement? Was it your dad? Your dad was probably laughing his beer gut off watching your chow down nasal mean as he scratched his butt crack.

In the end, what is the hullabaloo over real men reveling in their own waste? We don't bother women when they play with their lipstick and their hair removal cream and their scented sanitary napkins (why does it need a scent?). Then why bther us when we like to play with our *libag* and our stoach lint and our *longganisa* -smelling belches? Shouldn't picking your nose and flicking that little phlegm ball 30 feet away qualify as an athletic achievement? Does passing gas harm you in any way aside from contributing to the Greenhouse Effect? My bad breath has actually saved billions of bacteria from the murderous effects of mouthwash. What are men jeopardizing by entertaining themselves with simple, self-generated forms of amusement?

It may jeopardize any chance that men have left at reproduction, especially if you are a NGSB (No GIrlfriend Since Birth). But don't worry if you are a DOM (Dirty Old Man); you can be as bacteria-free as you want but women will still consider you bacteria. So if you want to get intimate with a member of opposite sex aside from a female proctologist, then after reveling in your excretions you have to find a way to discreetly get rid of them. And not hide them in a plastic container for future enjoyment.

*How to Make Women Love You and not Waste You* **

*The art of fart. *According to *Why Men Don't Have a Clue and Women Always Need More Shoes*, the top of the list of men's habits that make women wish they could reproduce by cloning are nose-picking, burping, bdy odor, underwear that needs to be carbon-dated to get its actual age, and crotch scratching. But, by leaps and bounds, number one on the list is farting.

Ever since I turned into an octo-lavo vegetarian, and beans, eggs and cheese have become a staple of a diet, passing gas has consequently become one of my favorite pastimes. But breaking wind has long been a favorite pastime for your Pinoy boys everywhere, along with playing *Patintero*, Monkey Monkey Annabelle and "I'm a doctor, please take off your clothes." At a young age, sometimes the biggest achievement you could muster was the ability to fart at will. Until now, I still don't udnerstand why farting the chorus of Christina Aguilera's Candyman doesn't amuse my fiancee as much as it amuses my *barkada*.

It's not like women don't pass gass too, you know. In fact, while 96.3percent of men admit that they fart, only 2.1 percent of women will ever admit that they fart. This tells us only that women are much better lars than men. Men (and, yes, women) let loose an average of 1.5 to 2.5 liters of gas a day, delivering an average of 12 farts a day, enough to fill a small balloon (which is somethign you must be wary of if you hire unscrupulous balloon vendors for children's parties). But what's so wrong with gas from the ass? Flatulence(this is what farting is called when it is performed by the elite classes) is an important signal of normal bowel activity and a healthy body. And jdudging by my emissions, I am probably one of the healthiest men alive.

However, my healthy emissions are something my mom has not yet learned to appreciate. At least I think this is what she means when she smacks me in the butt with her *pamaypay* while wearing a gas mask. My mom always tells me, "It's so *bastos talaga* when you fart, can't you just belch it out instead?" Apparently, my mom thinks that I have complete mastery over my anatomy and that I can command gas to move from my intestines to my esophagus at will. But hasn't it ever occurred to my mom that a smell that normally comes out of my sphincter should be rechanneled through my mouth? (Mom *naman*, thats so gross.)

One of the main causes of excessive flatulence is talking too much, a fate I suffer along with administration spokespersons and chismis talk show hosts (you just can't smell them over TV). This is because wind becomes trapped inside the system and, although much of it is belcked out, the rest passes through ito the small intestine where it mixes with other gases to prepare for global warming. Fart gas is mainly composed of 50 to 55 percent nitrogen, 30 to 40 percent carbon dioxide and about five to 10 percent methane and hydrogen. Incidentally, methane is that gas which causes underground mines to explode while hydrogen gas in a weaponized form is capable of destroying cities. Some of my gases have obliterated small barangays.

Although we fart almost the same amount of air everyday, the difference between men and women lies in our noses. The book *What Women Want and What Every Man Needs to Know about Sex, Romance, Passion and Pleasure* (required husband-in-training reading) reminds us that women have a better sense of smell than the average man. So while a man can suffer than one brief whiff of rotten eggs from the nether regions, it is the equivalent of being strapped to the gas chamber for the nostril-efficient woman.

*The solution*: Aside from stitching your mouth shut (my fiancee has tried several times but I still manage to slip out a few thousand words), you can avoid the biggest gas-producing foods sch as cauliflower, onions, garlic, cabbage, broccoli, beans and beer. But if this were the case, a vegetarian like me would have to give up eating food altogether and would need to figure out how to absorb my nutrients from breathing.

So instead of avioding these foods from your diet, you can also try "de-gassing" preparations. At first my fiancee thought that these involved poking my bellybutton with a barbeque stick to deflate the gas from my system (which she happily agreed to do). But after several visits to the emergency room, we later learned that "de-gassing" preparations meant the use of "herbal" teas like peppermint and ginger. But if your intestine is too impatient to wait for a teabag to soak for three minutes, you can always pass the blame on to someone else. Me, I always stand beside my *yaya* when I feel an unwanted explosion coming on.
*The manly solution*: After experimenting with various inflammable materials, I discovered that charcoal can effectively absorb the smell of human gas pollutant. Try sitting al fresco on some charcoal briquettes and farting on them; it naturally absorbs 90 percent of the smell (I am not sure, though, as to how they calculated this percentage). If you want to impress both your fiancee and friends, make sure that the briquettes are lit when you set on them and then let one rip. And if you *really *want to impress your fiancee and friends and spend a ridiculous amoung of money at the same time, you can buy underwear that contains a replaceable charcoal filter. This bikini brief is air-tight and prvides a pocketed escape hole in which a charcoal filter can be inserted. (Really.) But if you are a real man, then try eating the charcoal instead. With some salt and Tabasco sauce.

*The Dreaded 'Druff* **

Aside fro being circumcised at 30 yaers old, nothing has caused more embarrassment for grown men than dandruff. Dandruff occurs when there is an abnormally rapid shedding of the sin cells from the scalp which, in turn, leaves a tropical snowstorm all over your clothes. Men can usually tell when they are shedding abnormally because females maintain a radius of one meter from their person.

The causes behind dandruff might not be what you expect. One cause behind the 'druff is improper nutrition that results from not eating your vegetables. This tells us that the more gas-producing vegetables that you eat, the less prone you become to dandruff. This also tells us that God has a sense of humor. Aside form an MSG- and caffeine-laden diet, the other cause behind dandruff is also emotional stress. And lastly, according to my infallible and omnipotent mom (*Walang kokontra! Walang kokontra!*), not shampooing daily is the primary cause of dandruff. However, I later read that daily shampooing and certain shampoos can actually be the primary cause of dandruff. After disputing her shampoo dogma, my mom took it upon herself to forcibly shampoo my hair daily (and to lather up the other hand to reach certain hard-to-reach places as well) for the next several months until I get married. The emotional stress of my mom shampooing my hair at 30-plus years old is not the primary cause of dandruff.

Initially, I thought that we had secured the world's ire by being the global repository of every cheesy song that gave us indigestion over the airwaves. But in a recent study, our global *pogi* points dropped a few more rungs after it was discovered that we were one of the worst dandruff offenders on the planet. It turns out that 44 percent of Pinoys suffer from this dandruff epidemic. This is pretty alarming. According to *50 Facts That Should Change the World*, there are 44 million women in China who are currently missing and there are 44 million child laborers in india. Although these more serious facts have absolutely nothing to do with dandruff, the fact that 44 percent of Pinoys suffer from dandruff is still pretty alarming. However, if I were the press secretary, I would find a way to "spin doctor" this little factoid: "The Filipino people are overachievers! " the Palace press release could scream. "This goes to show that we are not only good at inking broadband deals with Asian superpowers and spawning pyramid investment schemes with European-sounding countries, but we are also topnotch at creating tropical snowstorms. Take that, world!"

*The solution*: Even if dandruff recurs on your scalp as regularly as potholes along EDSA during the rainy season, it is not a fashion accessory. This local epidemic has grown to such a degree that fashion editors and stylists from the country's top lifestyle magazines have actually signed a manifesto to ban the use of the color black until a more permanent solution can be found to wash away this local epidemic. (Really.) The call to rid us of this problem is so dire that fashionistas have even asked DOMs to stop wearing black as well. This is because, according to our uber-fashionazis, dandruff is the natural enemy of fashion and this is seen most dramatically (against) the color black.

In tandem with the PNP, there will be roving patrols of plainclothes fashionistas dispatched to key areas around the city. These fashionistas will carefully check if those specks on your shirt have been sewn on by your *modista* or sloughed off from your scalp. If this specks can be brushed off and you are wearing the outlawed color black, the fashionistas will crucify you with stiletto heels onto a camouflage-themed cross and make sure that you shed more than just your dandruff.

*The manly solution*: My fiancee thoughtfully suggested a permanent solution to my recurring dandruff problem. "Why don't we pour piping hot tar all over your scalp?" she gushed with excitement. "Not only will it keep your scalp from shedding any more dead skin, but it will also kill all your nerve endings in the process!" As she torched the last remaining black garments in my closet, she further advised me, "when the tar dries up, we can finally peel off the dead hair with the rest of your scalp. Then we can replace your scalp with prosthetics and make you wear an industrial-strength hairpiece. Won't that look great on you for our wedding day?"

Help me, please.

By the way, I just recently got into the balloon-making business. But please let me know at least three weeks in advance how many balloons you will require. I will need to stock up on my *monggo* beans.

Test mike

2007-07-25T16:59:00.001+08:00

Test mike. Di ko napansin, mag lilimang buwan na palang walang update tong blog ko. Habang tumatagal na walang napopost, lalong wala kang ma ipost, maisulat. Kaya't eto ngayon at ako'y may ipopost. Una sa lahat last semester ko na ngayon sa kolehiyo, sa wakas. Nakaka panghinayang lang na sa pitong taon ko sa kolehiyo eh ngayong huling semester pa ko gumamit ng uniporme. imbes na mas maging mukhang bata, eh kabaliktaran. pero ayos lang, pero hindi talaga ayos. hindi talaga, pero ayos lang. hehehe nakaka miss na ang pagbabasa ng mga blogs, at sana'y magbabalik loob na ako sa pagbabblag.

bakation

2007-03-30T09:40:00.000+08:00

Tapos na rin ang klase, puede na ko matulog na matulog. ngayon ko lng natapos ang final paper sa victorian literature at di pa ko natulog. sana bumagsak ako, pumasa pala. Inuman naa yea.

hostage drama

2007-03-29T12:17:00.000+08:00

One day I saw a hostage drama on TV and I couldn't quite tell what to make out of it. I asked what are his demands?

Children were being held hostage. They were waving and smiling at the cameras. While the hostage taker was speaking to everyone, and thought that kissing the children goodbye as he let them go would make some sense, everyone looked on. I saw how hostage situations like that should be handled, I've seen many hostage movies like The negotiator and I thought the Police did a terrible job. What did he want?

I thought it did make sense, the world saw how the Filipinos are now and it's a sort of a shame, if there's someone who's capable of feeling the shame, now that some people are willing to kill the very children they are trying to help, just to help them. Desperation makes sense. What did he say?

Now I know what to do if I have a son and I can't send him to school.

I can look at him as a hero or a lunatic, but it doesn't matter now that it's all over. All around people would rather wave at the camera and gawk and watch and anticipate for the worst. Poor children, poor hostage taker, what did he want again? I wasn't listening. So I wave and smile at the incident goodbye and wave and smile at the camera in the same manner. And this morning I thought of the elections.

Some things I've discovered about myself

2007-03-11T14:52:00.000+08:00

I tagged myself with this meme kahit di ako tinagg ni edwin nyehe

WHAT IS YOUR DISPLAY NAME ABOUT?
- it's my name in anagram

2. WHERE WAS YOUR DEFAULT PICTURE TAKEN?
- images.google.com wehe

3. WHAT IS YOUR MIDDLE INITIAL?
- B.

4. WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT RELATIONSHIP STATUS?
- singol

5. HONESTLY, IF SOMEONE WERE TO TELL YOU HOW THEY FELT, WOULD YOU LISTEN?
- basta summarized in one word

6. WHATS YOUR CURRENT MOOD?
- sleepy

7. WHO DO YOU LOVE MOST?
- family, friends and God and enemies. wehehe panget

8. WHO MAKES YOU HAPPY?
- some people

9. ARE YOU MUSICALLY INCLINED?
- no, musically declined

10. IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, AND CHANGE SOMETHING WOULD YOU?
- who wouldn't

11. IF YOU MUSt BE AN ANIMAL FOR ONE DAY WHAT WOULD YOU BE?
- human

12. EVER HAD A NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE?
- no

14. WHAT'S THE NAME OF THE SONG THAT'S STUCK IN YOUR HEAD?
- no song, musically declined.

16. NAME SOMEONE WITH THE SAME BIRTHDAY AS YOU?
- ferniz

17. HAVE YOU EVER SANG IN FRONT OF A LARGE AUDIENCE?
- yes. don't remind me

18. WHAT'S THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX?
- da face

19. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY ORDER FROM JOLLIBEE?
- ketchup

20. HAVE YOU EVER HAD A DRUNKEN NIGHT?
- no. drunken day and night lang.

21. do u still watch kiddie movies/show?
- this morning nanood ako ng The Wild

22. DO YOu HAVE BRACES?
- no. but i should have one

23. NAME SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED TO YOU TODAY?
- i ate

24. DO YOU SPEAK ANY OTHER LANGUAGE?
- dialect lng

25. IS THERE SOMEONE ON YOUR MIND NOW?
- i don't know, i didn't look

26. WHAT HURTS YOU AT THE MOMENT?
- my ears

27. WHAT DO YOU WISH FOR?
- i wish that wishes come true

desktop

2007-02-06T10:58:00.000+08:00

Importante dapat na ka enga enganyo at maayos lagi ang desktop mo while working, o in my case, while playing wehe. kaya eto mga pinaggaga gawa ko. pagpasensyahan niyo na mababaw lang kaligayahan natin nyehe
i downloaded Vista Transformation Pack 6 para magmukhang Windows Vista ang Windows XP. it is not the real new windows vista, which was officially launched for public consumption just the other day lang ata after 6 long years of waiting for the next windows pagtapos ng XP. pero ayos a, it looks like it and feels like it daw, kaya eto ayos naman. and the transparency epek is very cool. so cool kelangan ko i post dito for remembrance baka biglang mag crash tong PC. nyehe

my CTU logon interface with a "welcome back to CTU" sound to welcome you when you login. for those of you who doesn't know, CTU refers to the Counter Terrorist Unit, yun sa TV show na 24 sa studio 23. wehe kakatawa nga pero cool naman
a flaming desktop. astig lalo na pag chika ang desktop mo
i also have the CTU ringtone (yung ringtone ng lahat ng telepono sa CTU nyehe) as my mail notification and message receive alert sound wehe at xempre ringtone sa cellphone. so yun lang muna, nonsense na naman to. have to get back to my CTU workstation. nyehe adik!

Smart bru

2007-01-27T14:23:00.000+08:00

Meron na kaming internet sa bahay sa wakas. kakaalis nga lng ng mga taga smart, 30 feet na tubo ang kinailangan nilang itukod sa bubong para lng makakuha ng disenteng signal. sino ba kasing nagtanim ng mga punyemas na mga PuNO na ubod ng laki na para bang mas gusto nila eh mas malaki pa sa bahay nila. sa harap may Manga, sa likod may tatlong puno ng niyog, sa kaliwa may Star apple, sa kanan Kamanse, teka samin ata yung kamanse. in short, gubat. tapos may bilding pa sa harap na diretsong diretso na naka harang sa pinaka malapit na tower ng smart. di man lang inisip ng smart na dito nakatira ang pinaka importante nilang customer. nyehe

pede na kong mag blog anytime. e kung may ma iblog, teka wala naman talaga kong bina blog, puro lang kwenta. tsaka sa dinami dami kong gustong tapusin eh di ko alam anung unang uunahin.

di ko maintindihan, pilit ko mang itindindihin, di ko maintindihan kung pano nila ginagawa. yang broadband technology. yung dsl nga eh di ko ma intindihan wireless pa kaya. lupet tlga ng mga bagong teknolojee ngayon.

pero lako paki alam, bahala na ang teknologee na yan basta may internet na ko. yeah.

13 ways of looking at a blackbird

2007-01-17T11:53:00.000+08:00

deadline na to today. 10 page analysis of two poems by e.e. cummings and wallace stevens. eto ang kay steven wallace. memorize ko na ata to pero di ko parin maintindihan. hay. yosi muna ko. yoko na wa!

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
Wallace Stevens
I
Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.

II
I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.

III
The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.

IV
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a blackbird
Are one.

V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.

VI
Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.

VII
O thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?

VIII
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.

IX
When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.

X
At the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.

XI
He rode over Connecticut
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For blackbirds.

XII
The river is moving.
The blackbird must be flying.

XIII
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.

Blogs as literature

2007-01-11T15:51:00.000+08:00

save ko lng mga sources

Carving out a Space for Cyberspace in the Literary Tradition

The Labyrinth Unbound: Weblogs as Literature

blog links

Are blogs literature?

2007-01-11T15:44:00.000+08:00

Source:http://crofsblogs.typepad.com/ckbetas/2003/11/are_blogs_liter.html

Raquel Recuero, a blogueira colleague in Brazil, has been discussing the issue of whether blogs are literary in any sense of the word. If you read Portuguese, you can see her November 16 post at Every flower is perfect.

If we could see a typical bookstore maybe 20 years after Gutenberg, we would probably be appalled at the speed with which junk was duplicated on the primitive presses of the time. Time and chance have buried the junk, leaving us with a tiny residue of superb writing and thought.

Similarly, for every Swift and Sterne and Johnson writing in the 18th century, hundreds of dreadful writers scribbled more junk...buried under the junk of the 19th century, and so on. Many American authors of mid-century rated a portrait on the cover of Time, and are now forgotten even by desperate Ph.D. candidates in search of a dissertation subject.

So when we contemplate the geyser of writing unleashed by blogging technology, we should not feel disappointed that it's a geyser of sludge. Even if future technology permits the reading of today's blogs, no one will care. A Ph.D. just wouldn't be worth plowing through the annals of drunken college students, whiny Bush supporters, and bitter ex-spouses.

If anyone shows an interest, it will be linguists analyzing the frequency of certain terms in blog English: random, rants, musings, chaotic, meandering, raving, neurotic, and so forth—a kind of anticipatory self-excuse for lacking all sense of purpose or structure.

Of course such terms are intended ironically. But irony appears in the very late stages of a genre, and blogging is just too new for that. It's in the neonatal stage, when everything is intense and romantic and mythically larger than life. Even a dog's cute behaviour seems as significant as the Fenris Wolf or the Hound of Heaven.

So the irony, if any, is unintentional. And yet myth is still literature, romance is still literature, and blogs are literature too. Just as most literature is bad, so are most blogs.

But what's "bad"? What's "good"? We love the writing that addresses and expresses our anxieties, and we despise the writing that ignores them. Moralizing about blogs is as pointless as moralizing about the Mickey Spillane mysteries of the 1950s, or the Harlequin romances of the 1970s. Doing so may reveal much about our personal taste, or the taste of our time, but it says very little about what's really going on in blog writing.

We need a blog taxonomist: someone who can patiently record the number of descriptions of drunken college bashes, or the number of sincere laments over the death of Johnny Cash, and who can then discuss the more complex versions versus the simpler ones. And then our taxonomist can compare the Johnny Cash obituaries with those for other C&W singers, and with those for opera stars, and for aged parents...and finally for Hamlet and Gatsby.

In other words, we need to see the archetypes in blogs, the recurring symbols, images, and phrasings, just as we need to see them in Shakespeare's sonnets or Scott Fitzgerald's novels.

The difference here is that most modern bloggers lack the education that enabled Shakespeare and Fitzgerald to invoke those archetypes consciously. Most of us simply imitate the language we hear and read around us. Remember when the Web was new, and everyone felt obliged to post an "Under Construction" sign? We were all just copying the very first Web pioneers, trying to sound like them.

As blogging grows more sophisticated, some writers will become very powerful and evocative indeed; most, however, will go on describing their weekend in Houston or that great party at the Phi Kappa Psi house.

And that's fine. From Shakespeare to Dickens, English speakers had a mighty substrate of literacy in the King James Bible, giving everyone a common mythology and a magnificent rhetoric. Without that, the Shakespeares and Dickenses would have been mere mute inglorious Miltons, lacking both an audience and a language to address it in. (We have fallen so far in the past century that we must now dragoon young adults into literature classes to explain to them what any 10-year-old once understood from family conversations.)

So the substrate of blog writing, mute and inglorious though it may be, can still support more ambitious efforts. The images of frat-house orgies and cute pussycats will evolve, in some writers' hands, into Dionysian visions and tigers, tigers, burning bright. Yes, blogs are literature

wala lang

2007-01-10T14:52:00.001+08:00

It's been a while since I last posted anything in this blog (except for the previous entry for the expandable post code). nothing much has changed. i'm still a college boy from some college dreaming of a college diploma. Go to school and go home. eat and drink. So much for resolutions i still smoke and still manage to get myself wasted from time to time and it's great. I couldn't write. it's too hard to write. The only things that I can write these days, and actually finish writing, are those that are either due in less than 5 minutes or those that are a week past their deadlines. This blog has just gotten out of its state of national 'blog-out' and I'm afraid I'm not making any sense but that's ok.

The least that I could do was to upgrade my blogger to the new blogger from the old one to the new one blogger. ha? i find it excruciatingly difficult to write in english lately I feel like there are only 50 words left in my english vocabulary and that's not good. I realized that I have to start getting used to writing in english now before I receive a dimploma that has a huge e-n-g-l-i-s-h embedded across it, or, sooner or later i will just have to shift to another course but that would be stupid.

I've just gotten out of class and I want to go home and sleep and drink and watch dibidi. I couldnt think of anything interesting to write about and since that's a requisite for a blog post then I guess this is not one. It's half way through the semester and my research proposal is far from being possible, not even in dreams. What is it with 'Blogs as a new form of creative non-fiction' that I do not understand and I couldn't pinpoint where this friggin research proposal is heading to? There's reason for me to believe that there's no way I can produce a thesis proposal in time, what more a paper? But who cares what I believe.

Anyway,it's a happy birthday to someone very special today January 8, and so, happy birthday to you and though you do not celebrate birthdays and it's impossible that you'd be ablt to come across this post, let me do the honor of celebrating your birthday later at home with a bottle of fundador. thank you and ladyu.

taena, ayoko na mag english. Happy new year na lng sa inyo

ekspandabol post

2007-01-10T12:09:00.000+08:00

Testing expandable post courtesy of ... click here

Sakit sa Ulo

2006-12-20T15:49:00.000+08:00

May natagpuan kang T-shirt sa Department store, ito ay
nagkakahalagang Php 97.00.
Wala kang Pera, humiram ka sa nanay mo ng Php 50.00 at
sa tatay mo ng Php 50.00...
magkano na pera mo? (ans: Php 100.00)

Binili mo ang T-Shirt, Magkano sukli mo?
(ans: Php 3.00)

Binalik mo ung piso sa nanay mo, magkano nalang ang
utang mo sa nanay mo? (ans: Php 49.00)

binalik mo ung isa pang piso sa tatay mo, magkano
nalang utang mo sa tatay mo?
(ans: Php 49.00)

Ung isang piso na sa iyo.

(ito na ang pang gulo)

49 + 49 ? (ans: 98)
98 + piso na nasa iyo? (ans: 99)

nasaan na ung piso?

Res 101

2006-12-18T14:30:00.000+08:00

Meron daw akong research subject this semester at hanggang ngayon wala pa akong topic na maisip, dapat daw eh related sa literature or english eh di ko alam eh wala talaga kong mapiga sa utak ko. sabi ko nung una english as medium of instruction, di raw puede kasi pang education daw, tapos kung specific author and his or her works eh anung problema puede kong i research.

i am currently thinking about blogs in relation to literature or philippine literature, or bloggers as writers o kahit ano na, or blogs as new form of literature, parang ganun na hindi ganun, basta ganun. Any suggestments, anyone? tulong

yeah

2006-11-24T12:03:00.000+08:00

yeah, eto na ata ang pinaka matagal na 'blog-out' sa blog na eto, wala atang ma iblog, o sa dami nang pedeng iblog e di ko lam ano ang isusulat. pft. kaya eto na lang muna. hmmm taena sampu ang subjects ko ngayong semester na eto, 30 units, overload na kahit di pa graduating para matapos na to ng over extended na college life. minus na ang tambay. minus na ang lakad. minus tulog. ibig sabihin from 10 hours, ngayon 8 hours na laang ang tulog. wehe. lang pasok next week. palaro. ateneo fiesta daw. nasali pa ko sa sopbol. ibig sabihin sigurado na. na talo kame. hehe ano pa? wala na. break ulit. advance merry xmas and happy new year. hehe

Yawa

2006-10-30T12:23:00.000+08:00

Araw araw na to ah... tang ina nila

Monday, October 30, 2006
Motorcycle-riding gunmen kill another cop
By Al Jacinto
http://www.sunstar.com.ph/

A POLICEMAN was killed in a daring broad daylight attack Sunday near downtown Zamboanga City in the southern Philippines, police said.

Police said the victim, SPO1 Rodrigo Deza, was driving his motorcycle when shot in the head shortly before 1 p.m. along Nunez Road.

Witnesses told the police that they saw motorcycle-riding gunmen tailed the cop and one of them shot him from behind.

"He was shot in the head. We already have suspects," Supt. Jose Gucela, Zamboanga's deputy police chief, told reporters without further elaborating.

Police investigators said they have recovered 6 empty shells of .45-caliber pistol from the scene. Deza's 9mm pistol was missing, they said, but his M16 automatic rifle was recovered by the police.

On Friday, a government soldier, Sgt. Carlito Alvarez, and a Muslim employee of the Air Transportation Office, Abdulgafar Udin, were killed in separate gun attacks Zamboanga City.

Police said the soldier was on his motorcycle when he was shot several times in the head at around 6 p.m. along Jaldon Road near downtown Zamboanga. Udin was shot in the chest at least 13 times.

On Thursday evening, an unidentified gunman also killed a Chinese trader identified only as Huang in downtown Zamboanga City. Prior to the killing, two policemen were also shot dead in separate attacks in Zamboanga.

On Monday, a soldier and his civilian companion were also killed inside their apartment in Sta. Maria village, about two kilometers from downtown area. Police said all the killers escaped on motorcycles.

More than 200 people had been killed in violent attacks and summary executions in Zamboanga City the past years.

()*&#%

2006-10-25T16:49:00.000+08:00

Taenang finals tapos na rin sa wakas. yahoo! tagay na! wala pa rin akong ma blog chyet

single blessedness?

2006-10-01T12:46:00.000+08:00

Gagawa kame ng paper about single blessedness; pero di ko parin magets; Single blessedness sabi ng titser is the state of being unmarried, by the grace of God'; is a choice; a decision; a calling; with the condition na walang romantic relationship hanggang kamatayan; etc...

Meron ba talaga tong katotohanan? Meron ba talagang mga taong pinili ng buong loob ang ganitong pamumuhay? gaya nang sa pagpili natin na magpakasal? o maging pari o madre? diba sabi ni lord go and multiply? wehe

Base sa christian vocation, ang single blessedness ay isa raw sa mga puede nating tahaking landas daw, aside from religious life, and married life. At iba raw ang pagiging single blessed sa pagiging single lng. niyati.

Kailangan namin mag interview ng mga single blessed; nak nang pating, meron ba tlgang tao dyan na single blessed? base sa description na yun? alam ko single meron, pero single blessed?

abaaay malay, watchutink?

chickpoint

2006-09-23T13:22:00.000+08:00

Sobrang dami ng mga checkpoints na yan eh di na ata maubos ubos, gabi gabi halos san mang lupalop ako mapunta eh parang binubuntutan ako nang checkpoint, kinakapkapan ka pa, eh di naman puede yun diba? bawal yun, tsakaparang araw-araw red alert, kesyo gun ban, kesyo LTO, army checkpoint, anak nang topak, first time akong ma para kagabi. syeet.

at yung dalawang kasama ko rin, daming diperensya ng mga motor ...nak nang... yung isang kasama ko student license pa lang ang dala, buti nalang registration lang ang hiningi sa kanya, ako naman kasi ang sticker nang motor eh 2005 pa, buti na lang eh 2006 na ang registration, ayus na sana eh hiningi ang lisensya ko, tsk, hehe sudent license rin ang dala ko eh, ilang taon na kong nag mamaneho, isang malaking kagaguhan nga naman eh noh pero anung magagawa ko, kaka tamad pumila sa LTO, buti na lang si bossing na marines naawa pa sakin, di gaya nung iba na walang awa, sinabihan na lang ako na wag na lang daw akong magpakita ulit sa kanya, wehehe pero nagkita parin kami nang lumipat na sila nang pwesto, wehe o di ata niya ko nakita.

Pero alam ko na di sila puedeng mangumpiska nang lisensya diba? kasi di naman sila LTO pero di nako umimik, para na lang akong tuta na sunod ng sunod, eh may baby armalite sila eh, sana ka? hehe ayus na rin yun may checkpoints para medyo makampante narin ang ciudad kahit paano, kahit minsan naiisip ko na parang wala ring gamit ang checkpoints na yan, kasi kung may gusto talagang pumatay eh papatay talaga, kung may gusto talagang magnakaw o mang holdup eh mang hohold up talaga, kung may gusto talagang mang kidnap eh mangingidnap talaga atbp. Kaya nung nakakita na kami nang isa pang checkpoint eh bumalik na lang kame, para sandali, yosi, para di obvious, tapos layas na hehe

oo next week pipila na ko pramis - badtrip, anlabo

IQ test

2006-09-13T19:00:00.000+08:00

Congratulations, Rudyman!
Your IQ score is 133
This number is based on a scientific formula that compares how many questions you answered correctly on the Classic IQ Test relative to others.

Your Intellectual Type is Visionary Philosopher. This means you are highly intelligent and have a powerful mix of skills and insight that can be applied in a variety of different ways. Like Plato, your exceptional math and verbal skills make you very adept at explaining things to others — and at anticipating and predicting patterns. And that's just some of what we know about you from your IQ results.

www.web.tickle.com
yahoo! may IQ pala ko, kala ko wala. taena maniniwala talaga ko dito. hehe

Art of war

2006-09-10T12:30:00.000+08:00

Noong isang linggo muntik na kaming mapasabak sa gulo. Ilang oras na kaming naka upo sa canteen nakatambay, nag yoyosi, kape, kornicks at toothpick. Nakakatuwa nga kasi ang pinag uusapan namin non eh kung gano na ka tahimik ang campus ngayon (ang high school alma mater namin) di gaya noong mga ilang taon na ang lumipas, na laganap ang mga rambol at takbuhan at taguan at saksakan sa campus, at halos maparanoid na ang lahat nang mga tao dahil sa mga frat wars at gang wars.

Kaya yun, bigla naming napansin na may grupo ng mga estudyante (at yung iba hindi ata esduyante) na may kasamang mgandang bebot, na parang may hinahanap na tao. Alas ocho na nang gabi nun at kaka unti na lang ang mga estudyante at halos kababaihan pa lahat. Napansin naming unti unti nang napapalapit samin ang paghahanap nila, marami nakong nakitang matang nakatitig sakin at sa mga kasama ko. Taena, kahit na tumanda na kame dito sa eskwelahan na to (at dapat eh nag graduate na noon pa) eh di kame dapat maging kampante dito sa mga ugok na to, wala kaming kilala sa kanila at mukhang di na kame naabutan nitong mga to. Reload na, ready na. Taena, nagsitayuan na ang mga balahibo ko (feathers?) seriosong gulo to pramis.

Narinig ko ang pagbabagasag nang mga bote, napatingin ako sa mesa namin. Apat lang kame, dalawampu sila, dalawa lang ang bote nang softdrinks sa mesa namin. Taena, dehado kame. BLood bath.

Nakita ko yung magandang babae nilang kasamang nagsimulang itaas ang daliri para magturo. Sino raw ang bumastos sa kanya, tanong nung isa sa kanila na mukhang sabog. At nang pagturo na eh (at mukhang di pa sigurado) papunta diresto samin ang daliri niya. Taena niya, siya na lang babastusin namin? syet. Tumayo na yung dalawang kasama ko, at nag masid-masid, ako at yung isa eh na upo lang at humarap sa kanila. Mahirap na, baka maka libre sila nang hampas sa batok ko nang di ko alam, ano sila sinuwerte? Nanigas na mga kalamnan namin. Let's get it on?

Walang takas to. Isa lang ang labasan, at nasa likod nilang lahat. We were on desperate grounds sabi nga ni Sun Tzu (Sun Tzu bayun sa Art of War?), Grounds where in there is no flight and the only possible way to win is to attack the enemy as soon as possible. Taena nila, isa lang nasa isip ko, makapatay o mamatay, pero kahit saan doon, talo pa rin ako. tsk. Basta di kame tatakbong hindi lumaban, at kung tumakbo man raw kame, eh dapat eh may tumumba rin sa kanila. Pero di ako ganun, mambali pa siguro nang buto sa kamay o paa ok lang. Pero ang pumatay, di ata, siguro. :) Sabi pa nang dalawang law students na kasama ko eh, siguradong self-defense yun eh 20 sila at apat lang kame. ayos! hehe

At ayun, pinagsasampal nila ang lalake sa tabi ko.Kawawa naman. Mukhang kagagradweyt pa lang nang high school. Siguradong aabangan to sa labas, tsk kawawa talaga, sinabihan naming wag na muna siyang umalis sa upuan niya kung ayaw niyang ma guyod. Siya pala ang target, wala ring konsensya yung babaeng yun na nag dala pa nang isang batalyon, eh kung papatay yun?

Di nila na umpisahan ang gulo, dahil na rin may titser at mga tinderang nagsisisigaw at ang mga babaeng kasama nang kawaawang lalake na nag mamakaawang huwag nang tuluyan ang totoy nilang kasama.

Kung natuloy man yun eh sigurado atang masasama kame dun. Eh isa lang ang bubugbugin nila eh bente sila, eh saan nila ilalabas ang galit nila? at kanino nila ihahampas ang iba pa nilang basag na bote? Samin siguro kasi kame na lang rin ang natirang mga lalake nun. Swerte nila at di ako nagtawag ng reinforcement- air strike sana aabutin nila wehe

Kung natuloy ang gulo eh siguro may dedo na sa amin, o sa kanila ngayon.

Mga Bagong Salawikain Ng Mga Pilipino

2006-08-30T10:46:00.000+08:00

1. Ang buhay ay parang bato, it's hard.
2. Better late than pregnant.
3. Behind the clouds are the other clouds.
4. It's better to cheat than to repeat!
5. Do unto others ... then run!!!
6. Kapag puno na ang salop, kumuha na ng ibang salop.
7. Magbiro ka na sa lasing, magbiro ka na sa bagong gising, huwag lang sa lasing na bagong gising.
8. When all else fails, follow instructions.
9. Ang hindi marunong magmahal sa sariling wika, lumaki sa ibang bansa.
10. To err is human, to errs is humans.
11. Ang taong nagigipit ... sa bumbay kumakapit
12. Pag may usok ... may nag-iihaw
13. Ang taong naglalakad nang matulin ... may utang.
14. No guts, no glory... no ID, no entry.
15. Birds of the same feather that prays together ... stays together.
16. Kapag may sinuksok at walang madukot, may nandukot.
17. Walang matigas na tinapay sa gutom na tao.
18. Ang taong di marunong lumingon sa kanyang pinanggalingan .... ay may stiff neck.
19. Birds of the same feather make a good feather duster.
20. Kapag may tiyaga, may nilaga. Kapag may taga, may tahi.
21. Huli man daw at magaling, undertime pa rin.
22. Ang naglalakad ng matulin, late na sa appointment
23. Matalino man ang matsing, matsing pa rin.
24. Better late than later.
25. Aanhin ang palasyo kung ang nakatira ay kuwago, mabuti pa ang bahay kubo, sa paligid puno ng linga.
26. Kapag maikli ang kumot, tumangkad ka na!
27. No man is an island because time is gold.
28. Hindi lahat ng kumikinang ay ginto ... muta lang yan.
29. Kapag ang puno mabunga ... mataba ang lupa!
30. When it rains ... it floods.
31. Pagkahaba haba man ng prusisyon ... mauubusan din ng kandila.
32. Ang buhay ay parang gulong, minsan nasa ibabaw, minsan nasa vulcanizing shop.
33. Batu-bato sa langit, ang tamaan ... sapul.
34. Try and try until you succeed... or else try another.
35. Huwag magbilang ng manok kung alaga mo ay itik.
36. Kapag maiksi na ang kumot, bumili ka na ng bago.
37. An apple a day is too expensive. An apple a day makes seven apples a week. (really expensive)
38. Ako ang nagsaing ... iba ang kumain. Diet ako eh.

Beta-blogger

2006-08-24T12:08:00.000+08:00

Blogger finally decided to upgrade their system, finally, though there are only a few changes, and most of it i still don't quite understand, they promised that this is only the beginning and soon they'll be adding some more features. So i decided to try and take a look at it so i upgraded to beta.blogger, you must first have a gmail account to be able to upgrade; the new features are interesting though i still have to get familiar with them all. The good thing is that, and i am thankful for this, i can still go back and access my old template so i don't have to worry about losing all those css and html and i-don't-understand-but-i'll-use-them-anyway codes that i've been filling up my template the past few months, they're hard work. But i still don't get it and i'm still puzzled why my toilet bowl background image just disappered out of nowhere and i miss her so much hehe maybe we're not meant for each other. ok enough with the post i'm just trying out this new 'label' feature of blogger. baboosh try mo rin!

Aug 23

2006-08-23T10:47:00.000+08:00

Happy Anniversary to all my mga brods and sis!

Ang manok pag nakatali mas madaling hulihin

2006-08-19T18:43:00.000+08:00

(Another one of this blog's naptalina induced entries)

"I went out into the open with haste, into the lights and into the settling humidity, where the sight of the city streets seemed to fall intentionally. There I found the most ordinary fowl there is, though of this I am still quite unsure, for if it was truly an ordinary fowl, I couldn't have possibly seen it. But I did see it, in what would have apparently been a perfect time, and noticed that it was tightly tied up unto a tree, whose huge branches stroke the largest of all the shadows cast and whose trunk stood unto the ground as though in territorial authority. I then cast an eye on the fowl, for how long I couldn't quite remember, altogether maintaining critical observance of us both, as it moved and went on on its almost mechanical dance and stooping and pecking, and its surprisingly quick turn of neck. Then somewhere along the line, in between each pause and pretentious glance, I thought to myself- no, I came to decide, that in no other circumstances that I should not intend to bring the fowl home with me and right there and then untie it and free it from the tree. And so I did- no, I did continue on with the intention but I failed to bring home the fowl- this of course is quite a pointless case and quite obvious- For any fowl, as long as it is tied- and oh how easy it is to get hold of a fowl that is tied up to a tree, than a loose one- and just as how the owner had succesfully explained this to me by casting his own eye upon me the moment I stepped an inch closer to the tree- which was his tree as well- has its owner. So I went home and closed the door and looked out the window, past the same old sight of millions of loose and pestering folws that crowded the town"

Aral pa

2006-08-14T11:21:00.000+08:00

Tapos na ang tatlo sa pitong midterm exams na kukunin ko ngayong linggo. masakit na ang kamay ko sa kasusulat, ng kung anu-ano, mga kamay na hindi sanay mag sulat at kumopya ng notes, sakit na rin ang utak sa kaka isip, ng kung anu-ano. Sinong gustong magpahula't huhulaan ko, praktisado na ko mula kaning umaga pa sa dami ng hinulaan kong sagot. pero di nga, magaling ako manghula ng sagot kaya siguro pumapasa ako.

Pero di nga ulit, low batt na ko at sa tagal ko nang estudyante, ang nagbago lang eh wala na ang kaba sa tuwing may mga school exams na yan, pero di parin nagbabago ang katamaran ko sa pagkuha. Lugi nga siguro ang huling exam, feeling ko nalugi ang titser na yun sa mga kulang kulang at hilaw na sagot na sinulat ko, baka sabihin niya di ko siya naintindihan sa klase, eh hindi naman talaga. 'Apply the lessons that you've learned to your life' ang mga tipo nang tanong niya, banaman yan maam. 'the story speaks of greed and the power of money so next time just make sure that you won't be caught stealing or killing thy neighbor' sana isasagot ko eh wag na lang.

Di naman to reklamo siempre swerte nga ako't nakaka pag-aral pa ko, yung iba dyan , ah este yung marami dyan (libo libo) eh alam mo na, lalo na yung mga bata na kababago lang natutong magsulat ng mga linya at titik sa papel eh itinakwil na agad nang opotunidad sa edukasyon( teka ang lalim nun a)

At di nga, tsaka san ka ba makakakita ng college drop out turned full academic scholar ng eskwelahan? Di nga, na hindi na kailangan pumila sa napakahabang linya sa bayaran ng tuition, tuition na di mo na ma isip kung may saysay pa bang gastusin para umupo at tumunganga sa titser. Kung pano nangyaring college drop out turned scholer eh sa ibang araw nalang at medyo mahaba ata yun. dibale sabi ko nga lagi eh malaki ang utang na loob ko sa may ateneo rito samin at balang araw eh makakabawi rin ako sa kanila whew- kaya ano? aral pa?

wala lang

2006-08-11T10:34:00.000+08:00

#1 Pag gising ko kanina napansin ko na natumba pala ang puno ng Nangka ng kapitbahay sa harap mismo, ay este sa gate mismo, ng bahay namin. kagabi siguro natumba yun pero di ko napansin kasi sarap ng tulog ko. pero di nga, sa nagdaang mga araw at ulan at semi-bagyo at lakas ng hangin, napansin kong dami nang punong natutumba kung saan saan.

Ang galing nga eh bihira lang ang bumagyo dito sa parte ng mundong ito at yung linya ng kuryente namin na disgrasya rin tuloy di ako nakapag charge ng cellphone pft

Nakakatuwa rin kasi kahit na delikado, dahil sa poste ng kuryente na kala mo madapuan lang ng langaw eh matutumba na, lakas loob parin ang lola ko na sumilong sa ilalim para lang sagipin ang mga orchids niya. sinabihan na siya na umalis pero tigas talga ulo, ayaw parin!

buti na lang malayo ang mayon.

#2 may nag text sakin di ko alam san galing wrong send eto sabi o>>> "Pre wag nlang muna papalitan kalbo ang barrel s ext-A kc nagnormal n kgbi pinatay ko lng mga 4:40 kc 3x nagblock out heater pati gas kya nhirapan ulit pumasok gas. txt u nlang me kung ano blita maya. angel"

gusto ko sana mag reply ng "pre, sabi ni boss kumuha ka ng posporo at sindihan mo ang barrel s ext-A, ahora mismo, kung hinde sisante ka!" pero nakonsesnya ako eh malay mo gawin niya at tanga pala siya! pero kung shabu factory yan ayus sana, pero hindi naman siguro

#3 midterms na dito next week. di ko na mabilang kung pang ilan na to...

#4 Minsan, meron talagang mga tanong na di mo maintindihan. Gaya ng titser ko kanina "Ikaw rudyman, ex-seminarian ka noh?" 'Yes maam' sana sasagot ko pero baka tamaan ako ng kidlat, madilim pa naman ang panahon. Ewan ko kung dahil ba sa mukha akong mabait (na totoo naman) o na gagaguhan lng siya sakin (na totoo rin naman). tsk tsk napa iling na lang ako... "No maam, how bout you?"

#5 Sige alis na ko at marami pa kong tatabasin na Puno!

anboring

2006-08-04T11:39:00.000+08:00

boring...magkano ba pamasahe papuntang lebanon? borrring...zzzzzz

anlabo

2006-08-03T13:05:00.000+08:00

may nakausap ako kahapon lang. anlabo kausap! ewan ko kung ako ba yun malabo pero talagang mukhang siya talaga yung malabo eh. alam ko malabo ako kausap minsan pero alam ko na malabo ako kausap kaya sinasabi ko na malabo ako kausap para alam niya o na malabo ako para maintindihan niya ang kalabuan ko. pero talagang yung usapan namin eh malabo talaga parang malabong malabo talaga. oo parang ganun.

parang yung isa kong kaibigan naalala ko na kulang na lang mapa mura ka kapag ginaganito ka eh...

yayay: (excited laki ng ngiti nang makita ka) "O tol musta?! san galing?"
ako: "galing kame nood sine "
yayay: "hwoows?"
ako: "oo, astig"
yayay: "ano?"
ako: "yung ano nga bang title nun. kalimutan ko sorry."
yayay: "alin?"
ako: "yung sine, ang ganda! blah blah blah"
yayay: "kailan?"
ako: "kanina mga ala una pagkatapos ng klase blah blah ayos maganda!"
yayay: "bakit?"
ako: "kase blah blah blah blah" (mga two minutes)
yayay: "san?"
ako: "dun sa sm, dami kame., kasama si blah blah" (mga 1 minute)
yayay: "hwoows?"
ako: "oo, di ka sumama eh andun sina blah blah" (mga 10 seconds)
yayay: "pano?"
ako: "eh sana nag absent ka tapos blah blah andun lahat sumama"
yayay: "sino?"
ako: "eh di sina ano blah blah blah"
yayay: "sino?"
ako: "sina ano nga! sina blah blah blah! asteeg"

(mga 5 seconds pause)

yayay: "sinong nagtanong?"

sabay lakad palayo

Relief

2006-08-02T11:26:00.000+08:00

(another one of this blog's Nonsense stories)

He had been running for the longest time amongst the trees and the filthy mud of soil and rocks, his hands had become so bruised and cut he thought he could no longer find any use for them, and his bare feet had become swollen by the cuts and incisions made by the many thorns and the hundreds of blood sucking maggots that somehow, despite a conscious effort from him to avoid making contact with them, had found their way through him quite effortlessly. He had been runnning after that night spectacle for days since the unfortunate time when it came to him and showed itself to him, though without an intention to do so, and had since made itself known to him completely, luring him towards itself perhaps without the knowledge of him at all nor of the deep fondness from him which seemed to associate them both to each other-

And so he had been running after it to no avail, and he's quite aware of this himself, for everytime he believed himself to be in an arms length close to it, it eludes him quite too easily with a swift shuffle of feet,or with a sharp ducking maneuver, or by simply bending or if matters comes to worse, with a piercing shout would yelp at him then roll out into the woods- and in a brief interval of time, before he even becomes attuned to its attempt to advance itself away from him, leaves him behind a good mile away, waving at him from that distance and at times yelling complements at him if it deems the task to be appropriate to do at the moment.

And so now the night spectacle stood at the summit of the hill looking sharply down at him complementing the dark night with its own luminuous presence, as he himself, after coming to an abrupt surprising halt, stood helplessly at the edge of the lake and then began to raise his right arm and quite carelessly, pointed with his one of his fingers, at the direction of the spectacle.

The wide and inanimate lake prevented him to go on with his intentions to run after the spectacle that now settled itself- staring intently at him as in a gratifying manner- and as though the spectacle itself was breathing hard from too much of its own running; and as if in provocation as well- up at the summit of the hill from where the same soil somehow connects the hill to the land from where he now stood.

He then turned his gaze to the thick bushes that trailed to the left of the lake and found exactly the same symmetrical observation to the right of it- there is absolutely no possibility whatsoever that any sort of path could lead him or bring him towards the hill, not even to the foot of it.

So he made a condecsending shake of a head but not while his right arm extended its stretch a last time, a few inches closer to it- pointing and cursing at it in an excessively blunt and exagerrated manner.

Then after a long while and probably just out of plain exhaustion, he had found himself succumbing to a bow on his own, and at any rate, he eventually found it sensible to declare it too unnecessary to even contemplate on what to do next nor even try to come up with a plan, or anything at all that would suggest the pursuance of such incredulous intentions. For the mere separation of the hill and the lake, and the gripping force of gravity that held him to the ground, and the death that lay on the lake itself, became evident to him- too evident in fact that it seemed only inevitable and fitting for the spectacle to had deserted the summit and had disappeared into itself as soon as the sun peered through and shone its light across the hill, and above it all.... 'what a relief' he finally thought to himself and then turning his back, flew home.

meme ulet???!

2006-08-01T15:08:00.000+08:00

Eto na ang meme ko kay yowee. kasi not following instructions sila ni edwin eh kaya minus 5 kayo sa final grade niyo sa memenology... wehe

1. Respond with something random about you.
>>>pumayat na raw siya tska fashionista na raw siya tsaka chiks na!(mas lalong naging chiks kasi chicks na daan) wahehe

2. Challenge you to try something.
>>> hmmm inom sana eh pero umiinom ka na soo... yosi! hehe joke lang yun di puede may asthma. di bitaw ah i challenge you to try drag racing. ayos yan

3. Pick a color that I associate with you.
>>> yellow coz the sun is yellow and sunny (huh?)

4. Tell you something I like about you.
>>> kung may ate ako gusto ko si yowee hehe responsible and mabait lalo na pag wala na kong pangkain dati wahe inampon ako nito dati eh kaya ill never forget that hwoo:)

5. Tell you my first/clearest memory of you.
>>> ah! naghahanap tayo ng handkerchief para pantakip sa mata natin, yun tapos holding hands na tayo kahit di ko pa alam name mo hehe

6. Tell you what animal you remind me of.
>>> hmmm dinasour. kasi long legged. teka... tama ba yun?

7. Ask you something I’ve always wanted to ask you.
>>> hmmm serioso, sabihin mo nga, guapo ba ko? (ops! disable reply function)

8. Pick a song that reminds me of you.
>>> How can i find there's something, that you can see... ah... as long as it matters. by jars of clay ba yun? basta yun.

ano? sino pa papagawa ng meme? piso lang per question! hehe

Ayos!

2006-07-31T12:18:00.000+08:00

Ayos! congratulate niyo ko nagawa ko na! may left and right sidebar na dito na to the left and to the right wehehe pede na kong maglagay nang mas marami pang BASURA dito sa blog! walang tulong ang help section sa blogger kaya kinalikot ko na nang mag isa! (proud sa sarili amputsa)

sige na basta wag lang tong mabura lahat ha blogger ka gaya nang dati. nawala tuloy ang mga links ng mga chika babes na bloggers. nyeye dedemanda kita pag nagkagulo dito! (pero kung tutuusin kasalan ko naman talaga yun eh nyehe) dadanak ang dugo kahit wala kang dugo! (anlabo) mag ayus ayos ka blogger! ayusin mo buhay mo! amats

shock and awe

2006-07-29T12:15:00.000+08:00

The first time you met her you heard her say hello and you said hi; both of you began to speak of things that really didn't quite matter to anyone; not even to you or to her; and she could have just been any other person you meet and talk to when the situation tells you that you should... But then you found out later, after a few minutes, that she could failry well pass as an exeption to all that and so you began to exert a bit more of effort to bring the supposed to be casual conversation between two newly acquainted people to a more interesting and a bit more personal talk; you did try to talk indifferently but with transparency as though you have known her for a long time already and you of all people, i was surprised myself, believed this to be a fact. It made a lot of sense, it occured to you (as always) to try and make her laugh in the process of such engagement; but at the same time cautiously trying not to sound or look too interested and stunned and blown away by her and all of her you know what i mean, and to every little thing that she's saying; you did this by looking at the blackboard intently, which is of course absolutely absurd, or by listening to somebody else's conversation, or simply by fixing your shoe laces, and you know you'd do that whethere you had a shoe on or not- your selfish intention basically is to make her question why is this so and makes her doubt her own amiability and company, 'what's wrong with me?' thus challenging her to exert a bit more of her own unsolicited efforts to make you want to talk to her even more; but then that is out of the question because of course you want to talk to her. cabron

Then it goes well or so you thought to yourself, and the next thing you know is you hear her laughing with you; and at you; and at times at herself too; despite the fact that you're both well aware that you were laughing at something else, or somebody else, like that girl who came in the room walking with too much confidence in herself half an hour before the end of the period- she's oblivious of all these shemes or so you thought, and you start to think if she has one up her sleeve herself- but you shove of the thought because the last thing that you want to do is to assume- and so you resort to the more essential task at hand; thinking of the next interesting thing to say that would somehow make her want to talk to you the more; but that too you're not very good at so you decided to go back to telling her the most absurd and dumb thing and utter and comment on the most boneheaded topic level- it didn't matter coz it made her laugh and you become relatively satisfied.

Then you begin to wonder who she really is or where she's from and all the irrelevant details one would long for in times like this, then you begin to fabricate a mental picture of the story of her life and the person that you would want her to be the next time you meet, so that the next time would somehow be perfect.

But the next time and all the days that followed went by so fast that you found yourself groping in the dark and juggling everything around her and you become wary and anxious about the progress of this new acquaintance of yours and so you begin to think- what if? and the more distinquished the what if's become the more blurred the future gets... and so if you're blind and you can't see and you are crippled and you can't walk; and you're in a car and there's a dead end right in front of you, you begin to contemplate wouldn't it only be logical to make a u-turn?

Sex werd thengs

2006-07-26T10:46:00.001+08:00

I was tagged by major tom with this meme (now im not really sure what a meme really is) to tell 6 weird things/ habits about myself and i honestly don't think it necessary at all bcoz as you can see my blog and my posts would attest to that already but thne id do it nevertheless, dont have nothing worth reading or writing in this blog so i'll do it.

And of course i will just take it easy on the telling coz i dont want you to think im retarded or something (which i am) hehe joke lang

michael buffer: soooooo let's get readyeeeeeee to memeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooo (fade out)(wehe ampanget)

Instructions

*The writer will create a blog with “6 weird things/habits about yourself.”
*People who get tagged will have to post a blog of their own telling 6 weird things/habits about themselves.
*At the end of your 6 weird/things/habits, you need to choose 6 people that you would like to be tagged and list their names.
*Don’t forget to leave a comment that says “You are Tagged!” in their comments and tell them to read yours for instructions on how to proceed!

Here goes some of my habits that others may find weird…

1) I smoke, any brand, basta umuusok, as in

2) The more drunk i am the earlier i wake up

3) I plan on becoming a modern day samurai, seriously

4) I laugh at my own jokes

5) many times id reach in for my wallet to check wat year it is

6) I jog and exercise while smoking

I now tag the following people: (some these people di ko na kelangan tanungin eh hehe pero sige na lang para ma share rin sa iba diba wehe)

floyd
edwin
Thanna
Yowee
Sir mike
Aryan
Airah
Gayle
GLORIA (gusto ko malaman kung bakit werd siya)

ay six lang nga pala eh sa di ako marunong magbilang eh, eh puede lahat na lang ng nasa links ko ayus yan. :) lahat kayo!

Ahhh, meme!

2006-07-21T14:49:00.000+08:00

Meron akong meme na ninakaw kay ideasnpink (as if napadpad na siya sa blog na to hehe). ang saya ko kasi at last alam ko na kung ano ang meme, yun pala yun ibig sabihin ng meme na lagi kong nababasa- ang tanda ko na dito sa blogosphere di ko parin alam kung ano ang meme!

Sige mag meme tayo para maiba naman pero kelangan ng class participation- kaya precipitate kayo hehe

o sige meme na!

ZZZ ZZZ ZZZ ZZZZ

o gising na ulet!

ok korny, o sige eto na

Ganito raw ang panuto (panuto amputsa) ng meme na ito na ninakaw ko lang sa ibang blog:>>>

If you comment on this post, I will...

1. Respond with something random about you.
2. Challenge you to try something.
3. Pick a color that I associate with you.
4. Tell you something I like about you.
5. Tell you my first/clearest memory of you.
6. Tell you what animal you remind me of.
7. Ask you something I’ve always wanted to ask you.
8. Pick a song that reminds me of you.

After I’ve done the 8 tasks above, you will then have to post this same meme and my response on your blog.

pero ako wala akong ipopost kasi nga ninakaw ko lang to wehe so meme na!

zzz zzz zzz

di nga...Are you ready!? (looks over to the other corner) Are you ready!? (chops the air) Let's get it on!

Someone who couldn't wait to see Someone

2006-07-20T10:09:00.000+08:00

He woke up one morning with a certain suddenness like a song had just been turned on with a flick that would never leave his head... He walked his walk towards the empty kitchen in a slow pathetic manner. This he had done intentionally, and the showdown of needles that clattered his stomach affirmed to this intention. Then he sat on the most readily accessible white monoblock chair he could spot, while the attempt of distorting his mouth kept him from grinning.

He sat there for sometime, staring unknowingly at the pentagonal wooden clock right above and in front of him, and noticed its fine red hands strolling along, but quickly lost track of them many times.

Even the penetrating morning silence he had failed to take note. The song now seemed to revolve round the same easy lines, and at times, on the same phrases too, but it sounded just right. He slouched in the chair, his back bent in a dismal arch, the left hand fell lifeless on the table edge from the wrist, and both his feet crossed each other, stretching as far as comfort could inbue them.

30 minutes before first class, and he had been slouching there for considerably a very long time, especially that it was a thursday morning. He would be late, but this imminent delay he had welcomed too with such spirited mood like a rightful excuse to an irrepressible furor of excitement

Then the light of the flourecsent bulb had then caught his attention. So he tried to follow the light, as a detective tracing its path, and later found himself staring at the flourecsent bulb itself. While the same song played industriously in his head and his face never failed on its distorting acts, until it seemed that if someone had observed him intently, one would conclude that he was making faces at him and in a very insulting manner too.

THen Mother had asked him a question, and he had heard it sufficiently enough but had thought then that the manner by which his mother had asked the question was quite indifferent and apathetic, like behind a glass wall. So his mother dropped it and decided to leave him alone.

THe needles in his stomach continued on pressing and as time went by felt more like nails, and he welcomed it in high spirits, spinning them himself as in a dance. He brought the spoon to his mouth for the sake of putting something in it, then took note of the half fried egg and the steaming fried rice that lay, then left the breakfast table, and left it all behind- almost in a leap

Caliao

2006-07-17T15:09:00.001+08:00

Caliao na medyo del de dia
no mas man lingasa;
el sol que ya pasa ayer
ay pasa ontraves manyana, si

Caliao na medyo del gierra,
no mas man lingasa;
el maga escuro ya hace man malo,
ay pasa na mas malo pa, si

Caliao man tu sintao solo?,
no mas man lingasa;
el sombra del di miyo,
ay para saler ya, si

Caliao el boca ya lang iyo queda,
kay dol el orehas de tu tapao,
no man lingasa, por pabor,
ay para saler ya iyo.

Cuidao tu

*** my first poem (poem ata yan) in chavacano. walastik artistic ata ko these days pansin ko lang expired siguro ah este inspired. syeet

Naku po

2006-07-15T16:38:00.000+08:00

~~ERASE ERASE ERASE ERASE ERASE~~
***nakalimutan ko nabigay ko pala sa kanya ang blog address wehe baka masira ang diskarte wehe at saka aliw pala tong strike text

***?***
in the meantime ito na lang nasulat ko na siya rin may kasalanan kung bakit may nasulat kornicks tlga amp

Morning & you ~~shit~~

I'm aware of the fact that when the day would come when i will be left with no choice but to forget all of these poor attempts in trying to imagine your face in my dreams and when I'm awake, and had found them severely lacking of taste to picture only of the curves and colors of your face and the indescribable details, and found it too insufficient that for the last couple of days my mind had been construing desperately, any thing that would most likely suffice and fill the need for me to think of you, or more appropriately, for me to miss you as i always had been since I've known you.

Take for instance, when in bed or in the sofa this morning, when my right hand covered my face and a couple hid my half shut eyes, while on my sides or on my back, as though suggesting that i'm taking a sunday siesta, but the truth of the matter was that for some reasons i'm high circling in some sky, all skies looks the same, while the cool sun rays beating heavily all around wherever I look, and the air perhaps had been too strong it almost made anyone fall to the ground willingly, and the images of wings flapping like soaring eagles coming in from the left and all sides, the sense of too severe freedom that would have been enough to define your face, and consequentially you yourself when i'm with you, but then it did not suffice.

So I turned my body another time and one of my leg now searched for the most comfortable side of the sofa, my fingers still covered my eyes, at times my forehead, still suggesting that I had been taking a quiet nap, when in fact i've just woke up. But the truth of the matter again was that I had been rolling unto the vast green field of absolutely fine bermuda, rolling as far and as relentlessly as one ex-convict would, while the scent of some sumptuous noon meal came rushing from some place, and seemed to be listening to the sounds forks and spoons make everytime mother had been busy, and attuned completely, that at any given time, as long as my favorite music on the radio keeps on rocking, I could go over that some place so long as I've washed my hands, and dig in like there's no tomorrow. And at any rate too, would my retrievers come along as well, but only after we've had enough of rolling around and jumping around and playing around in that vast field of the finest green bermuda while the warmth of the cool sun rays beat all around us and the wind combs through all of us. But still, of course, these too would never suffice.

And so it occured to me much later that i've run out of any more reason to stay down so i had switched my place some place else, some place that didn't matter, only to pursue further what poor attempts i've got left to describe all of these and you of course. But even before i've given up and had contemplated on standing up, it became clear to me that i've been in the most refreshing suite of some sort for too long already, still half way through the cases of beer including the one that i had been grabbing onto, though quite loosely, while in front of a huge plasma tv watching simultanously, all the seasons of all the programs and movies i've learned to follow religiously, while my hands, and so as all of the others who had been with me all along, had been sufficiently sored by the excessive punching and fiddling with the gamesticks and our eyes too had been too sore yet seemd to protrude joyfully and the more, but of course not after we've gone thouroughly with the days game events and had sored our feet and dried our throats from whatever game we have had to engage, and had gone through all of it without a tint of what have we got to do tomorrow nor what tomorrow would have to do with us. And all of these, now it did not come as a surprise, would never suffice.

And so while I am, or we are, immersed in all of these, rolling and the flaps of wings, and getting graciously drunk , it never occured to me that in my dreams this morning, I've already dreamt a million times of such scenes which were, if i'm not mistaken, definitely more convincing than these rolling around the ground and flying and drinking- indeed, for the only problem with those dreams was that they always seem to, and always had been, utterly impenetrable- but not too undetectable during the first few moments after one becomes awake, instead too impenetrable that when the time one had already known fully that he or she is indeed awake, as I this morning, one inevitably would find it not only logical to make oneself believe that it is only normal to wish you were still asleep, but i myself found it perfectly sufficient to resort to imagining your face and from that point onwards, start to think of you, or miss you- but then indeed just try and look at me and tell me how possible that would have been, when here in my sofa now I have been lying down, twisting and turning and twisting, while my hands had become too numb in those petty attempts in trying to keep on playing dead like a dog, that is it even possible that for the sake of simplicity, your face would even be enough for me to imagine you or even think of you sufficiently?

The Ball player

2006-07-11T16:00:00.000+08:00

The game began and Dood was standing in his bright red baseball uniform across the playing field, clutching his brand new mitt the team had just issued them with his left hand, while pounding the bottom of his right fist against it lightly, perhaps to keep himself afloat and calm, for the excitement and anticipation was too high he even almost thought it was unbearable. He stood there in great anticipation, hands on his knees, on the farthest right corner of the field (for he played right fielder), too far actually, that if he did not focus his stare hard enough or squint his eyes in the proper angle, it seemed quite impossible for him to see the tiny white dot across the field which had caught his attention the moment he arrived in his position, but of course from where he stood, there was nothing else to see except that spec of dot, for everything in all direction was a wide yellow plane of field made out of an imperceptible composition. For even if he had tried to kick the ground with his spikes to examine the unusually yellow ground, he found that it was unfamiliar, too unfamiliar infact that he chose not to mind it at all. And even when he had tried to tilt his head up (he tried once), he could only see the same wide yellow plane of fields composed of that imperceptible substance of sort, in the sky, and thought to himself that surely if he had laid down in the ground and looked up the sky, it would be exactly an identical perspective when he was standing up.

He was grateful for that spec of dot during the course of the game. For if it wasn't for the tiny spec of white dot, how difficult it would have been with him alone and far from where the pitching and batting and the stands were held, and how dull and unentertaining the game would be then for him, now that not a single ball had come pass his direction. And so days had passed before he even started to truly wonder what that little dot could probably be, or mean, and thought to himself perhaps it was the only person or thing that is visible from where he stood. It could probably be the second baseman, Aloysius, whom he had not seen for quite sometime now. The last time he saw him, he recalled, they slapped some high fives and engaged themselves in some quick banter of sort about how the other team had mistakenly chosen them for an opponent- what a bunch of losers- he thought as he put up a wry grin. The memory with aloysius was quite blurred, considering the length of time it took him just to jog from where Aloysius was (second base) to where he's standing right now (right field). It must have been a week! he thought, now with his right fist enclosed inside his glove, his shoulders propped up and his body stiffening in anticipation, as though in a few seconds from now, a ball would pass blazing in front of his field, while his eyes continued on a surge of frantic searching, searching the horizon for an incoming fly- any incoming- but there was none.

So days had passed and nothing had changed, and then he had started to feel a little disappointed that he still had to be part of any play. Then gradually it happened, that from a totally energetic and devout right fielder, who since birth, had known nothing else but the joy and the dream and goal of being able to play for their hometown team, had now been left out by the entire game- alone in his own little field- and so it was only inevitable that he now started to entertain the idea of taking a short quick nap. For the actions, or more appropriately, the entire game, he had noticed, had been far from him since he had taken his position, too far actually, that not a single drive or pop up fly ball had shown itself across his limited jurisdiction- the yellow plane horizon in which he had been staring enamorously and soulfully for the last couple of weeks- waiting, anticipating, and sometimes, even praying for the action to come. So now his eyes was starting to hurt from lack of sleep, and his head too! So he thought a quick rest would do him good. Besides, he thought to himself, the coach wouldn't mind it at all and would understand him, it is actually more beneficial for the team, because they probably would be needing him most effectively during the last few innnings, when the game is most important, and surely he had not had any form of rest for the last couple of weeks and it is only proper. Moreover, for days he had been standing in that same position, eyes on the horizon, hands on his knees, alert and in absolute focus towards the on going game, for he could not afford to let a single ball pass him, it could end his entire career- and he could even count the few number of times he accidentaly or, out of necessity, had closed his eyes or veered his look elsewhere but his field of jurisdiction.

The decision was not easy for him, never in his entire life would he even dream of letting down his team. But he needed a quick nap badly. So reluctantly, perhaps because his body was ailing too and that he couldn't possibly go any further without any form of sleep, he decided to take a short quick nap while standing up, and re assured himself that if the action would come, he would hear the sound of the fast approaching ball and that it would wake him up and he'd be on his feet right away to catch it.

The days turned into months and months into years and still he had not seen a single ball come even close his horizon. This startled him and made him question, and even made him cry for some lonely nights when the little spec of dot, whom he had always assumed to be the second baseman, had denied him even the faintest trace of light for him to devour upon. His mitt had started to decay, and his uniform, out of the dirt and the imperceptible yellow substances had already deformed it, almost like a rug. He himself had grown a lenghty beard and his hair had become corrupt from all the long hours under the wide plain of yellow horizon, basking under it with nothing for his mind or body to engage upon except for that tiny white spec of dot, whom he had always assumed to be his team mate.

But years had passed and he had grown to be an old old man. He had began to sleep more frequently,for his playing fervor and anticipation too had declined drastically due to an extreme lack of action, and had started to feel quite hopeless and utterly incapacitated as a player. But his love of the game kept him afloat and calm, and his love of the game never faltered, not even once from all those years. If the game would only show him that he is part of it then he would feel much, much better, he always thought. It was just that the game, he had occasionaly judge, had deprived him of any of its goings-on, even the faintest light of a play, and had neglected him for all his worth as a right fielder. But these absurd ideas did not bother him and did not even make him angry or furious, his hopes was still as high as it has been from the beginning when he stood his post, hands on his knees, eyes on the horizon, though on some lonely nights he had thought otherwise- but this, he never came to realize (or denied to acknowledge) out of respect for the team and his team mates.

His love of the game was so deep and so powerful that even at this point, when he had lost much of his physical capabilities, at this point when he could not even stand up on his own, and his hands had began to lose its sensation, and when he thought his legs wouldn't even budge and his back started to ache due to old age, and when the intervals between his breaths had started to shorten fast, and that only his perfect vision had provided him with a bit of competence, competence which he had during those great years of his career. While an occasional sporadic blinking and wincing and writhing in pain deprived him of any form of sound sleep, while lying down the yellow ground on his side, the worn out mitt stucked under his head for comfort, the bright red uniform now had become an oak gray, staring firmly in desperation now and then at the tiny white dot, which he had assumed to be the only sign that the game was still going on. And so he held his breath for the last time as his eyes wandered amorously towards his yellow horizon, still waiting, as the pitcher walked slowly to the mound to throw his first pitch of the game.

congrats natapos mo! pasensya na wala tlgang magawa eh kakahiya naman sayo. please feel free to play critic grammar cop basta wag mo lang akong sasaksakin wehe
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blog out

2006-07-10T17:24:00.000+08:00

ano bang magandang i blog?

boo

2006-06-29T08:22:00.000+08:00

anung gagawin mo? antok na antok ka pa at ang hirap tumayo at ang sakit ng katawan mo ay dahil sa sarap ng tulog mo, sarap humiga at magpaka tamad sa kama dahil umulan pa naman kagabi, ang lamig. tulog pa tulog pa sandali na lang 5 minutes na lang, tulog ulit, o yan, tulog ulit, wag lumingon sa relo sinungaling yan, tulog ulit. wala talaga kelangan ng gumising, tayo. gapang palabas habang alam mong 99% ng populasyon ay sarap na sarap pa rin sa panaginip nila. gapang.gulong.hila.gapang. gulong.gapang

anung almusal? wala! yosi.kape.takbo eskwela
pagdating walang pasok

anak ng tutong!

mag se send na lang daw siya ng assignment through email for next meeting. putcha, too late ma'am 'siga na ang mata namo!' pag uuwi ako eh masasaktan lang ako pag makita kong tulog na tulog pa ang mga manok sa kapitbahay namin. putcha talaga, di na nakonsensya. nagbabayad kame ng tuition (di pala ako nagbabayad) para mag-aral tapos ganito? ha! nasan? nasan? nasan ang katwiran? ang tunay na edukasyong pilipino? ang karapatan ng mga mag-aaral? ang ipinaglalaban namin at ang aming mga mithiin? pano na?(sa maniwala lang)buti sana kung pang hapon ang klase para saktong sakto lang kung walang titser. wakekekekekek

tapos flat pa ang habal habal ko sa likod tapos napansin ko na nung tapos na ang lahat lahat, ang laking tanga. tapos pagka bukas ko ng email eh "Want to Bang married women? Full info: www.sayhellotoher. com" pa ang bumati sakin. kala ko kung sinong oddessa eh marami pa naman akong kilalang odessa na walang asawa.

boo

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2006-06-28T16:20:00.000+08:00

DMALLAS

2006-06-21T12:59:00.000+08:00

Well what can i say? holiday? nyahh Miami is NBa's 2006 champions... huhu sorry na lang dallas, ganyan talaga ang buhay minsan sinuswerte, minsan mina dallas,i mean malas. nyaha this year must be really for the Miami Heat and Duuuuweeeeyne and Shaaaaquiile OOOneil and their 4 other Superstars wehe, two of which i suppose are set for retirement already after finally being able to wear their own championship rings. bakit di na lang sila nag pag gawa ng singsing nila? kung gusto nila kahit tig sampu pa sila eh hanggang sa mga daliri nila sa paa meron. waaa korny. ok so they probably deserve it but of course i wouldn't be saying they deserve it if they didn't win diba so ok you deserve it. one hell of a playoff series and i just can imagine how tight next year's playoffs will be with stoudemire hopefully coming back to play and with the spurs and detriot and dallas going at it again in their game 7's and buzzer beaters and well almost even match-ups... wahaha pero ayos si duuuuwaaaayne waade ha. ayos parang michael jordan. parang lang naman. hehe ok so much for nba coz the world cup is still on and is still far from over bebe. :)

The Taming of the Shrew

2006-06-17T17:22:00.000+08:00

While starting to read a play of shakespeare with the intention of finishing it....

INDUCTION.
SCENE I. Before an alehouse on a heath.
[Enter HOSTESS and SLY.]
SLY.
I'll pheeze you, in faith.
HOSTESS.
A pair of stocks, you rogue!
SLY.
Y'are a baggage; the Slys are no rogues; look in the
chronicles: we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore, paucas
pallabris; let the world slide. Sessa!
HOSTESS.
You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?
SLY.
No, not a denier. Go by, Saint Jeronimy, go to thy cold bed
and warm thee.
HOSTESS.
I know my remedy; I must go fetch the third-borough.
[Exit.] SLY.
Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer him by law.
I'll not budge an inch, boy: let him come, and kindly.
[Lies down on the ground, and falls asleep.]
[Horns winded. Enter a LORD from hunting, with Huntsmen andServants.]
LORD.
Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds;
Brach Merriman, the poor cur, is emboss'd,
And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach.
Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good
At the hedge-corner, in the coldest fault?
I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.
FIRST HUNTSMAN.
Why, Bellman is as good as he, my lord;
He cried upon it at the merest loss,
And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent;
Trust me, I take him for the better dog.
LORD.
Thou art a fool: if Echo were as fleet,
I would esteem him worth a dozen such.
But sup them well, and look unto them all;
To-morrow I intend to hunt again.
FIRST HUNTSMAN.
I will, my lord.

43 pages pa!
SHREW YOU.SHREW ME
ZZZZZ ZZZZZ ZZZZZZZZZ

diwa ng wala lang

2006-06-13T15:10:00.000+08:00

wala lang no.1 In commemoration of Philippine independence day, i don't know what to say. hehe well, i was born in kawit, cavite in a small hospital on a bright tuesday (o monday ba yun) afternoon. but i don't want to talk about that of course. well, i don't know, i think of barong tagalog and maria clara outfits and pag sasayaw sa bangko at pandanggo sa ilaw whenever these days would come, philippine independece day or linggo ng wika or anything related to philippine history except EDSA perhaps. who cares? we filipinos are gifted with this uncanny ability to forget things quite easily and effectively. but i wonder what aguinaldo had in his mind while waving the flag? and what the filipinos during those days were thinking? they probably were brimming with hope and pride? good thing they didn't live long enough to see the fruits of their labor. they wouldnt have been pissed off. bwehe anyways, so much for independence if we cannot even free ourselves from hunger, injustice, corruption, incompetence... go figure.

wala lang no.2 In commemoration of my Pfth successful college enrollment, i would like to send out my deepest gratitude to all of my fans out there, in here, and in everywhere. you know where you are. nye and to all, who, as much as i do, values and cherishes college education to it's highest celestial worth, as much as one wouldn't want to end a disaster of a cancer and then begins to live with it and then begins to be fond of it. values it too much in fact, we, all certified juvenile deliquents, are all more than willing and even proud to pursue our checkered and over-expanded transcipts to it's fullest potential, may it transform into a 12 page booklet for all our future employers to behold or into a coloring book with all the 5's and the ... you know what. hail thee all children of the porn, i mean scorn. hail thee all sons and daughters of the supers-super seniors. who does not falter over unending subjects and classes, those who defied the odds and did not even blink a wink as they thumb through their new prospectus with the hopes that this course will be the last, and the last, and the last. then you swore and cursed and swore. hehe ok enough with the bull*&) hwapak! enrolled for the nth time and still counting...yey!

wala lang no 3 In commemoration of my blog's anniversary (that was 5 months ago), i just noticed some bloggers and posts telling and advising people how to blog and branding bloggers and categorizing them like snob bloggers, etc. which seems derogatory in a sense that i think it's unnecessary. because it's like telling people how to eat or write so if you start telling people how to blog then i guess you better start telling people how to think and that wouldn't be really nice, would it? so don't tell me how to blog so that i won't tell you how to think. hwacha!

wala lang no. 4 the mavs won game 2 and shaq scored 5 points. what the First day Funk? ok so i was disappointed because i lost some money betting on the heat, confident that they would at least steal one game in dallas but obviously they were too complacent and groggy and old? (like their superstars are old?) that they were just too cold and scattered. like they're there in the court but their minds were someplace else. not only did they not play as a team, they did not play! period. they did not exude the firepower and the energy the dallas poured with their young squad. miami was just lost in cyberspace and all dallas were all over them like chocas, you know like octopus. bwehe what a pitty. maybe in game 3, Coach Riley would have to find better use for Shaq. if not then send marlou aquino to miami. waa

wala lang no. 5 aah klase na! :)

These days

2006-06-10T09:07:00.000+08:00

These days i busy myself (or want to believe i'm busy) with a whole lot of petty nonsense and i find it hard to blog coz i really don't know what to blog about maybe this is what the they call 'the blog-out' parang brown out, o eh di ko na i e explain yun. well in one of my yesterdays i intended to write somethings with titles like 'the memoirs of a boyband' or 'huwag ku-corrupt' and something about incompetence in speaking english and tagalog and bisaya and chavacano in one day and something about polygamy and how it can help us all and something about a boy getting hammered by the "bat gang" and how i founded my own 'kiss gang' and a whole lot of nonsense you don't even want to know. but then the audio alert on table 5 kept bugging me and telling me that i had to make my bet because if i didn't i'd automatically lose my hard earned chips for that day and that wouldn't be really favorable at all and statistics will say that if it would happen then i'd have to go back to start in the beginning of the genesis and lose my chances by 50 percent of getting to 10,000 dollars. so i said i'd just do it tomorrow, until many tomorrows had passed and still the memoirs of the boyband remained only a memory so now i am trying to make up for it but somehow this work isn't much that of a read so if you want to you better move along and go about your more essential work.

essential. essence. well in the course of watching game 1 of the nba finals yesterday (hehe basketball na naman!) where in the heat lost to the mavs (yahoooooo!) it came as a bad news after learning, upon switching on the tv that kinito (KINITO!) henson and this other guy covering the game did it again- on their microphones stuttering on their lines, telling me who has the ball and how old is shaq and how many players are above 30 years old and who is fouled and that the mavs have to contain shaq to win (obvious?) and which team is leading (siempre yung abante!) telling me a bunch of insignificant and most of the time obvious facts and rhetorics which i bet they acquire only when scanning through some thick text book nba almanac or in the computer monitor. it is a fact that essence, essence, is what Kinito lacks. a whole deal of blah blah when he goes on and on trying to convince us that he's the philippines nba-pba-boxing-sipa-jolens-know-it-all guru specialist. when he is not, of course! i watch the games and i can't help but wonder the necessity of sending filipino announcers to the finals? steve kerr speaks english, doesn't he? and if they really have to then why can't they just find someone who would at least come close at par with the memphis' grizzlies' commentators? replace kinito! kinito chinito , chinito kinito, ibagsak! ibagsak! Kinito Chinito who's involved in practically every sport event from boxing to basketball and i wonder if he really knows what he's talking about. i bet this yearly expedition has become a free trip and R and R for grabs for local sports announcers delight. i do wonder why they have Kinito when Kinito is chinito? oo alam ko na nag fefreethrow si dwayne wade! waa

anyways on the highway, yesterday i was in otcho otcho drinking san mig strong ice with some people for the first time since i don't remember when and where i last drank beer so probably it was a couple of months ago. (record breaking). so it is in a place surrounded with 88. resto bar 88, wet market 88, cafe 88, ktv 88 and a whole lot of 88 (lucky number ata ng mga chinese) and then there is of course my favorite store 88 named WINES, CIGARS, and HEALTH PROCUCTS (ayos! health products daw pangontra siguro sa CIGARS nila hehe) and then so this morning i woke up with a headache and then so what? so i went to school and learned that it is closed kasi may reunion daw and then so what? ah! bad trip nga naman. i was supposed to pay tuition- i don't remember when was the last time i enrolled on time, 19-kopongkopong pa yata. but it was a pleasant process- no hassles and everyone was still sober and kind and nice to everybody and the proffesors did not look at me and, without opening their mouths, and by just looking at my long hair and my assasin look, tell me what a basagulero and delinquent student i am and how they doubt i am the one who wrote my 12 page requirement for the psych clearance and doubt everything about me then leave me to die waiting for their signatures and what have yous. (di ata nila alam ang kulay ng totoong delinquent student! kala nila) so now i am enrolled. so what? so wala lang. puede na nga ata akong mag gruaduate with a bachelor of arts degree in Enrollment Processes major in Clearance signing. syet

and so i wasted your time and i wasted mine so quits lang tayo. thanks for dropping by and i hope you drop by again like ice drops ok? so i'm going back to my poker room kasi meron na kong chips! yey! wahaha yahooooo! and happy independence day! mabuhay ang pilipinas! mabuhay tayong lahat!

tularaw 04.%^@

2006-06-08T11:46:00.000+08:00

'once'

I seek the child in my faith,
haunt me bare, flesh, in cold and blood
in retrospect, in faded colors;
will you lie in my touch once more?

It's been so long.surreal fists of gray.
most chances dwell against;
tries with me, my longing.
I did try. once in a while, i did.
But unmoved, unwise on any scene.

Must my past forbid my hides?
Must my sways intertwine with lies?
For you were once a child in me,
Unbound, infallible, eternal stay.

As though my walks would stride wide,
without any other, without pull.
And as waters did flow
without any flicker of mud. without any;

you carried me through each stem,
I tried to break, I tried to hear.
to the brim of my soul.
to the edge of faith.

So now, ahead of all wounds,
along scents of a world that fails.
WIll you carry me back again?
free the cracks of my guilt. forgive.