Turns out that colored tattoos are the best after all.. :) I just had another round of pain a month ago. How about you? Why dont you give it a shot?
Inked One More Time
Turns out that colored tattoos are the best after all.. :) I just had another round of pain a month ago. How about you? Why dont you give it a shot?
Canigao!
Oh, what I wouldn't give to bask in the sun every day...
Canigao Island just never cease to mesmerize me!Perhaps
It's one of those days that I get all too disoriented. Life has been a shot down at destiny and I feel that I am going through hell and back again. I hate the heat. While I live and breathe pressure, I feel that I am standing on the edge of forever, and the past lurking like ghosts from behind.
It's always like that. I appear unperturbed and docile but the truth is I am weak. My body aches from every core and all these stuff weakens me.
Perhaps a week's off would suffice. Perhaps, quitting is a viable option now. Perhaps, cold - blooded murder is the answer. Perhaps...
It's always like that. I appear unperturbed and docile but the truth is I am weak. My body aches from every core and all these stuff weakens me.
Perhaps a week's off would suffice. Perhaps, quitting is a viable option now. Perhaps, cold - blooded murder is the answer. Perhaps...
*sigh*
I can almost feel you beside me as I write this letter. I can smell the scent of aspen that always reminds me of you. And I can picture your lips curve into a smile as you try to decipher my writing. But at this moment, these things offer me no comfort. Our meetings have become less often. And I feel sometimes, that the greatest part of me is slowly slipping away. I am trying, though. At night, when I am alone and whenever my ache seems the most unbearable, you still find a way to return to me -- in my dreams.
Last night, you were smiling, laughing; not the usual expression, lit up by the feeling of intrusion -- you were glad to see me. You held my hand and whispered something unintelligible, nut, unimportant. I was happy. I long for moments like this, more than any other. It is what i live for. And when you return my embrace, I give myself over to this moment.
Forgive me if I am still here -- to love you and hold you. Forgive me if I am still here to learn from you and glad to receive your love (or care) in return. I am here because there is no other place for me to be. I want to love you without clutching, appreciate you without judging, join you without invading, and invite you without demanding. I want to leave you without guilt, criticize you without blaming, and help you without insulting.
I watch with a breaking heart each time you decide to forget about me. I find myself straining to remember everything about that moment, everything about you. But always, always too soon, your image fades away. And I am left to cry, and cry, and cry.
Right now, I am wondering where you are, what you are doing, and why, I marvel as I sit in a dismal state, are we being forced apart by each others monsters? I don't know the answer to these questions, no matter how hard i try to fathom. The reason is already there but my mind forces me to dismiss it and I am torn by trepidation in all my waking hours.
I confess that I think of you, I dream of you, and I conjure you up when I need you most. This is all I can do. I am torn from bereavement to exhaustion. My mind is no longer clouded by "what ifs" but by "whens and whys", and I can never answer the questions in my mind at this time that I am still struggling with myself. When? Why?
Last night, you were smiling, laughing; not the usual expression, lit up by the feeling of intrusion -- you were glad to see me. You held my hand and whispered something unintelligible, nut, unimportant. I was happy. I long for moments like this, more than any other. It is what i live for. And when you return my embrace, I give myself over to this moment.
Forgive me if I am still here -- to love you and hold you. Forgive me if I am still here to learn from you and glad to receive your love (or care) in return. I am here because there is no other place for me to be. I want to love you without clutching, appreciate you without judging, join you without invading, and invite you without demanding. I want to leave you without guilt, criticize you without blaming, and help you without insulting.
I watch with a breaking heart each time you decide to forget about me. I find myself straining to remember everything about that moment, everything about you. But always, always too soon, your image fades away. And I am left to cry, and cry, and cry.
Right now, I am wondering where you are, what you are doing, and why, I marvel as I sit in a dismal state, are we being forced apart by each others monsters? I don't know the answer to these questions, no matter how hard i try to fathom. The reason is already there but my mind forces me to dismiss it and I am torn by trepidation in all my waking hours.
I confess that I think of you, I dream of you, and I conjure you up when I need you most. This is all I can do. I am torn from bereavement to exhaustion. My mind is no longer clouded by "what ifs" but by "whens and whys", and I can never answer the questions in my mind at this time that I am still struggling with myself. When? Why?
Reverberation
Ever morning, I look in the mirror and say, “What are you smiling about?”. I start reminiscing, pondering whether I have anything to thank for from this small and stupid life. I stare blankly at the mirror at first. Then I begin to frown; my forehead starting to wrinkle from the stress of stressing myself. I sigh in frustration and open the faucet. The freezing, 4am temperature of the water wakes me and brings me back to reality. It’s time to go to work. I look around and realize that I’m not the only one grumbling, silently cursing the morning traffic jam. I unknowingly overhear a conversation of two of the jeepney passengers. One mutters, “Sus, ingani nasad ka traffic unyang hapon inig uli. Di na jud mo asenso ang Pilipinas!” (I bet the trafiic situation will be like this later in the after noon. The Philippines will never progress!); her voice trailing off as her words seep into my mind, lodging a thousand words. I was not a philosophy major. But I knew then, that her point of view was one that would give Socrates and his successors a sense of pride for what they had evoked upon the minds of many. I would normally dismiss such words and bury them under the most dorsal part of me, supporting my decision with the fact that I am just a simple citizen of this country, what can I do? But then, I start to think, these are the kind of behavior that bring about such comments.
The jeepney comes to a halt and a guy tries to squeeze his butt inside the crammed up jeepney. The thought that jeepneys have a 18-passenger capacity, provided that the latter is as thin as paper, immediately came fluttering around my think tank. I was going to catch a quick nap before I reached Lahug but then this guy brought out his mobile phone and started punching like crazy, sans the keypad tone which would give any normal person the initiative to plot vengeance. As if this was not irritating enough, we were in a dead zone. Ears are meant to be lent. But they’d rather have taken a back seat that time. The “Message Not Sent” beep was killing my two lovelies! What was this guy trying to do? Give us all auditory defects? Was it me or was everything getting to the driver too? He started honking at the pedestrians crossing the street, oblivious to the fact that the lights already signaled red. I tried shutting my ears from the world during that present scenario but to no avail, I was not able to catch a single wink. All this, and it wasn’t even raining. "Mag taxi jud ko unya inig uli kay para makapahuway ko." (I will definitely hail a cab later so I can rest well.) I got off the “teleserye” ride when we reached Salinas Drive. I hope the 9 - hour shift will zoom past me so I can go home to my friend’s house – my only refuge.
After hours of ranting, I was all ready to go. Drat! It felt like hell stepping out of the office's air-conditioned premises. Just a few steps to the jeepney stop and I was there. As I got in and waited for the jeepney to hit the road, I began to recognize that familiar smell passengers chance to whiff each time they take the ride. When will all the PUJs be equipped with air conditioners or should we say odor blasters? Even the humid atmosphere inside the train seemed to take shape and form a veil around me, making me even more uncomfortable. Little did I know, this was just the beginning of another hilarious adventure. I couldn’t help but smirk when two men started shouting, each accusing the other of having the bad odor. I was grinning from ear to ear and before I knew it, all the other passengers were gregariously laughing, some, routing for one of the two contenders; some, stoking fire on the two’s already heated argument; some, commenting out loud that we all had the same uninviting scent, thanks to the jeepney's crammed up accommodations; and some simply shrugging off the petty incident.
Robinson's Mall! This was where I finally got off. I rode a jeepney to Mandaue, considering the smoke from the passing vehicles my final touch-up. I arrived at A’s house, an ugly wreck. But he smiled, asked me to come in, offered me his towel to freshen up, and bought bottled water from the sari-sari store across. We had a rich conversation of funny experiences and instances you’d love to abhor’ our personal vendettas, and our not-so-secret aspirations. This was when my post-thoughts earlier in the morning came flooding back. What did I have to thank for in my life? Then the answer turned crystal. The simple things of course! Turning bad things into a good laugh, a friend being there for you, signs and mementos of love, prayer. It’s nice to know that everything is not so senseless. That there is always purpose whether it be for the simple reason of reflection, or for the optimistic reason of making a difference.
Every morning, I look in the mirror and say, “What are you smiling about?”. I start reminiscing, pondering whether I have anything to thank for from this small and stupid life. I stare blankly at the mirror at first. Yeah, I have a lot - friends and loved ones, food on the table, the crisp sound of a hundred peso bills, my job, being able to learn a new vocabulary (so feeling genius for a second)... That's indeed a lot! Then I begin to frown; my forehead starting to wrinkle from the stress of stressing myself. I sigh in frustration and open the faucet. I'll just think later. The freezing, 4am temperature of the water wakes me and brings me back to reality. It’s time to go to work.
Annmae
The people who call themselves her friends say they like her; sometimes she isn't quite so sure. They are the same ones who raise their eyebrows at her. At least they sometime laugh at her jokes. She's going to prove them wrong one day. "They'll see", she says, like the typical 'misunderstood girl'.
She says she doesn't care, but I know she does. She doesn't feel like she's part of anything, like she's just there for the ride, or just "there" as she eloquently puts it. Maybe she'll find her niche somewhere. She wants to find herself, even though that's who she's always with. She knows the sun's going to blow up, but thinks that humans will have destroyed themselves by then.
She likes to hear both sides of the story.
She thinks she's slow. I think it's because she has so many ideas in her mind at once and just doesn't know how to express herself except through writing. Sometimes she has a hard time trying to find the right word. She writes down words she doesn't know when she's reading, but usually forgets to look them up afterwards. She likes to have a dictionary next to her when she reads so that she won't forget. Right now the dictionary is under her car seat, so I guess all new words will be forgotten.
She's two-sided, but not two-faced. She always compares things, and uses phrases like "on the other hand" often. People tell her she's smart, but when she looks in the mirror she just can't see it.
She's lost, although she's really good with directions.
Since she's such an indecisive person, she can't explain herself well at all. Maybe that's why she feels so misunderstood.
She likes to write poetry too. I can actually think some of it sucks, but I still like them because she tried to express herself. She's getting better at that too. Writing helps her to speak, which is something she thinks she needs to do more of, even though she knows that silence is golden and that the fool speaks because he has to say something while the wise man speaks because he has something to say.
Whenever she does something she's proud of, she usually despises it a minute after she finishes. Maybe it's because of her self-critical, self-conscious, paranoid, no-one-will-like-me nature. She wants to be accepted, even though she knows that doesn't matter. I like her but she doesn't really care about me.
She thinks she's a failure, but remembers that Einstein flunked math.
She doesn't understand why people say they like her, but never go through with their plans.
She wishes she could write a novel, but doesn't think her vocabulary is extensive enough.
She thinks she's going to ruin her life with so many "buts" and negatives.
You could call her depressed, happy, crazy, balanced, confused, organized, fickle, constant, skeptical, trusting, pensive, outgoing, intelligent, inept, vivacious, slothful, interesting, flat, fatuous, prudent, embarrassed, nonchalant, caring, apathetic, one-dimensional, multilateral.
I call her horseshit. And yes, she has a name. Annmae.
Triumphs!
I didn’t become a lawyer, as I would have planned. Neither have I bought a helicopter for my parents or a Benz for my brother. I entered a career divergent from my childhood dreams. My dreams may have changed, but my ideals have remained the same. The same as those of children.
Occasionally, I remind myself of those dreams, to refresh myself on personal designs in life. However, in life as it is said, nothing is constant but change. Sometimes, these ideals are lost during the early years of people’s careers. Sadly, principles deteriorate, as men grow older. When people begin to earn and get positions. When the concept of money and recognition comes in, values are distorted to conform to the norms and practicality of life.
For some people, the lawyer ambition will soon be replaced with a variety of goals like buying a new car, owning a flat, being promoted, or obtaining a higher degree. Goals digress to something material. Something we can squeeze out instant satisfaction from. Materials that people think gauge their success in life. Perhaps something to show off to their peers and tell how much they have gone in their careers.
I choose to remain naive and a child at this. I don’t believe that the time I’ll spend racing for money will surmount to the number of people I can help. I don’t believe that recognition will outdo lessons I will learn from others and from life. I don’t want to believe that a career should be spent egocentrically volleying for the highest position and earning the largest possible salary. I refuse to admit that a vain drive of achieving material ambitions would bring me contentment.
There is nothing wrong in seeking ambitions. But, there is no genuine satisfaction that can be attained from material wealth. The craving for it will leave a person more obsessed and yearning. A craving which can never be pacified. A new benz cannot replace the joy you gain from the company of your friends. A fat paycheck cannot compare to a peaceful mind. I believe that friends and family should be in the top of our priorities. I believe that happiness in what we do is significant in our lives. Above all, I believe that lives should be spent fruitfully with God.
I am not being a hypocrite by trying to live with such beliefs. Like all people, I falter too. But I would rather live materially incomplete but content, than be wealthy but selfish. Afterall, I am not the only needy person living in this world.
Occasionally, I remind myself of those dreams, to refresh myself on personal designs in life. However, in life as it is said, nothing is constant but change. Sometimes, these ideals are lost during the early years of people’s careers. Sadly, principles deteriorate, as men grow older. When people begin to earn and get positions. When the concept of money and recognition comes in, values are distorted to conform to the norms and practicality of life.
For some people, the lawyer ambition will soon be replaced with a variety of goals like buying a new car, owning a flat, being promoted, or obtaining a higher degree. Goals digress to something material. Something we can squeeze out instant satisfaction from. Materials that people think gauge their success in life. Perhaps something to show off to their peers and tell how much they have gone in their careers.
I choose to remain naive and a child at this. I don’t believe that the time I’ll spend racing for money will surmount to the number of people I can help. I don’t believe that recognition will outdo lessons I will learn from others and from life. I don’t want to believe that a career should be spent egocentrically volleying for the highest position and earning the largest possible salary. I refuse to admit that a vain drive of achieving material ambitions would bring me contentment.
There is nothing wrong in seeking ambitions. But, there is no genuine satisfaction that can be attained from material wealth. The craving for it will leave a person more obsessed and yearning. A craving which can never be pacified. A new benz cannot replace the joy you gain from the company of your friends. A fat paycheck cannot compare to a peaceful mind. I believe that friends and family should be in the top of our priorities. I believe that happiness in what we do is significant in our lives. Above all, I believe that lives should be spent fruitfully with God.
I am not being a hypocrite by trying to live with such beliefs. Like all people, I falter too. But I would rather live materially incomplete but content, than be wealthy but selfish. Afterall, I am not the only needy person living in this world.
Almost!
The luminescent blue clock on the night table says it's 12:15 a.m. You wake up peacefully for a moment, then remember that it's not Saturday. It's Thursday. Two more heavy days when you still have to get up and work. It seems like you just lay your head on the pillow seconds ago...you were so tired after the third long day of the work week, and there are two more to go.
Dread sets in, and your innards rumble sympathetically. Sweaty hands...is this a hot flash, or just more anxiety? A tiny dull throbbing starts in your right temple.
Yes, I'm tired. I am not complaining about my job. I love what I do but as what the Spice Girls used to say, "too much of something is bad enough." I am disagreeing though with so much vehemence how classes and trainings are tossed to me like I'm some robot not capable of feeling exhaustion. A site with over 250 FTEs are resting on the palms of my hands, skin on my shoulders, and saliva on my mouth because of all the trainings that I do. And no, I am not bragging about my competence. Not that I disdain training all of them, I am just freakin tired and I need a break. Like a mad cow straight in the field for so long now (God knows I cant recall the last vacation I took), I'm all to weak and exhausted, I feel pangs of pain all over my body and throughtout my veins. I mean seriously! And yes, I am already starting to feel that I have lost the ability to work effectively. And when this starts eating me up, I only do one thing - QUIT the job and walk away with my ticking stilletos. Yes, I can be very bitchy sometimes!
So when should you quit your job? How much should you put up with before you quit your job? When do you draw the line and stand up for yourself?
When you dread the thought of going to work everyday. When you are already fed up.
Each individual has their own time clock for moving on. As the economy stands today, and with jobs being as scarce, we are more willing to put up with nonsense if necessary, but there does come a time when enough is enough.
Yes! I am on the verge. One more occurence of declined or cancelled VL then off I go.
The grass after all is greener in IT Park.
Regrets
A friend visited me yesterday in the training room and he was just a touch of sadness all over. You see, months ago, he made one great decision that he never thought would change is life three hundred sixty degrees. He left his girlfriend of 3 years for someone else. And details of the break up I'd rather not discuss because it's not my story to begin with. What I know of is that , he ripped and shattered the ex girlfriend's heart into pieces enough for her to resign and move on elsewhere. He was confident he made the right choice. He ranted about not being happy anymore and that being with the new girl just felt right. Then yesterday came. He cried and admitted that yes, he made the wrong choice. He realized what a fool he has been for chasing momentary happiness with the new girl; wasting years of friendship, love, and happiness with the ex. And now all he can think of is wish he'd be given this one chance to undo and live his life over again. Truly, one can never be completely happy at the expense of others. Oh, well. We all learn things the hard way.
Why do we have regrets?
We all have regrets. I do. They are the things we wish we hadn't said or done and things we wish we had. We regret we weren't able to fulfill some of our dreams. When we expected someone would do something and they did not, or when we expected circumstances would turn out differently, we regret it. When illness or accident prevents us from doing what we had our hearts set on accomplishing, regret may seem too limiting a word to express our anger at the unfairness of it all.
Why do some of us spend so much time thinking about our regrets? The reason, I think, is fairly simple. We don't plan on making as many mistakes as we do and we assume a lot of things will turn out as we expect them to. And when we do, our minds return again and again to what "might" have been, "could" have been, or "should" have been. We replay the images that connect us to the events we now regret. Rather than getting rid of these images, our constant ruminations only give them fuel to grow ever more persistent.
But then again, life is too short to be wasted on wallowing on the wrong choices we made. I'd understand my friend's despondent state. He should. After all, he let go of one person who could have loved him like no one else can. But then, life has to go on. Perhaps, they will be given the chance to be back in each other's arm in time. But for now, he has to move on. He has to accept the fact that his happiness is but entirely dependent on his own now. That instead of regrets, he has to look back and appreciate the lessons her learned out of the choices he made. Because that's just how it should be.
------
Side track:
My good friend Stan dropped by my training room today and gave me a 200g Cadbury Chocolate from Singapore. Yes, dear readers, I am well - loved and thought of! =)
Why do we have regrets?
We all have regrets. I do. They are the things we wish we hadn't said or done and things we wish we had. We regret we weren't able to fulfill some of our dreams. When we expected someone would do something and they did not, or when we expected circumstances would turn out differently, we regret it. When illness or accident prevents us from doing what we had our hearts set on accomplishing, regret may seem too limiting a word to express our anger at the unfairness of it all.
Why do some of us spend so much time thinking about our regrets? The reason, I think, is fairly simple. We don't plan on making as many mistakes as we do and we assume a lot of things will turn out as we expect them to. And when we do, our minds return again and again to what "might" have been, "could" have been, or "should" have been. We replay the images that connect us to the events we now regret. Rather than getting rid of these images, our constant ruminations only give them fuel to grow ever more persistent.
But then again, life is too short to be wasted on wallowing on the wrong choices we made. I'd understand my friend's despondent state. He should. After all, he let go of one person who could have loved him like no one else can. But then, life has to go on. Perhaps, they will be given the chance to be back in each other's arm in time. But for now, he has to move on. He has to accept the fact that his happiness is but entirely dependent on his own now. That instead of regrets, he has to look back and appreciate the lessons her learned out of the choices he made. Because that's just how it should be.
------
Side track:
My good friend Stan dropped by my training room today and gave me a 200g Cadbury Chocolate from Singapore. Yes, dear readers, I am well - loved and thought of! =)
Now Sober!
No. I haven't lost my mind. Nor did some random soul claim possession of my body.
It's been over five long years since I became deviant. And by that, I mean literally obsessing my self of the world. I started to question my faith and stopped practicing the religion I grew up with - Mormonism. Five years ago, I made the choice to stop going to church and along with this, I chose to forget all the principles and standards that I vowed to follow and embody. I drowned myself with alcohol almost every damn day of my life. I smoked like I had no lungs. I cursed like there was no tomorrow. I ALMOST lost my virginity a lot of times. I literally forgot who I was years ago - the obedient daughter of Heavenly Father who goes to church every Sunday. My life then was totally different to what it is now. But then again, we all make big choices sometimes and this time there is no turning back anymore...
I have decided to quit drinking, smoking, and all that and will try so hard to work for my own salvation. It's not gonna be an easy task. I will receive mockery and most of my friends will perhaps question my ways and raise their eyebrows on the sides. But I will try harder to hold on to the iron rod with an unwavering faith and a firm testimony of how His gospel and teaching will change me in more ways than one.
No. I haven't lost my mind. Nor did some random soul claim possession of my body. I just believe that play time is over. Now I'm gearing up for yet another battle I will be facing and with steadfastness, I might just come out victorious in the end. =)
It's been over five long years since I became deviant. And by that, I mean literally obsessing my self of the world. I started to question my faith and stopped practicing the religion I grew up with - Mormonism. Five years ago, I made the choice to stop going to church and along with this, I chose to forget all the principles and standards that I vowed to follow and embody. I drowned myself with alcohol almost every damn day of my life. I smoked like I had no lungs. I cursed like there was no tomorrow. I ALMOST lost my virginity a lot of times. I literally forgot who I was years ago - the obedient daughter of Heavenly Father who goes to church every Sunday. My life then was totally different to what it is now. But then again, we all make big choices sometimes and this time there is no turning back anymore...
I have decided to quit drinking, smoking, and all that and will try so hard to work for my own salvation. It's not gonna be an easy task. I will receive mockery and most of my friends will perhaps question my ways and raise their eyebrows on the sides. But I will try harder to hold on to the iron rod with an unwavering faith and a firm testimony of how His gospel and teaching will change me in more ways than one.
No. I haven't lost my mind. Nor did some random soul claim possession of my body. I just believe that play time is over. Now I'm gearing up for yet another battle I will be facing and with steadfastness, I might just come out victorious in the end. =)
Efffffiiinnnggg!!!
I got off the cab and didn't expect to see you sitting by the stairs. Though I was rushing my way to the 3rd floor, the moment I saw you, I felt this sudden twitch of pain. Memories flashed like visions while I strutted towards the area you were sitting. You attempted to smile but I decided to look away and pretended that you were some random stranger. I was already inside the elevator on my way up when these thoughts resonated like raging wildfire. Things that I wanted to tell you but I never had the chance or couldn't muster the the courage to do so:
Fuck you!
- fuck you for making me believe that there is hope in us by telling me to wait 'till you get your life straightened after that long and tumultuous hurdle with your addiction to all things prohibited...
- fuck you for seeing me that Saturday evening to get the dog I gave you when you were already officially together with J that same morning...
- fuck you for making me feel like Im the loveliest girl in this side of the archipelago when all that mattered to you was what I can give and what you can get out of it...
- fuck you for all the lies you told people and me...
- fuck you for raining me with text messages after I decided to turn away from you for good, trying to hurl me again to your web...
- fuck you for blaming me that you got terminated, you got no one to blame but you because you screwed your fucking calls up...
- and most of all, FUCK YOU for making me lose my sanity for a good three months...
Fuck you!
Back!
So I haven't been writing for the longest time.. I wouldnt make work the excuse this time because really, twas my decision not to write at all. I felt like all the things running around my head were nonsensical piece of crap that I opted to keep them in the remote areas of my consciousness.
How am I? Loaded. And that is even an understatement. 'Tis one of those days when you'd want to summon all the gods of the earth to just eat you alive. Stress level in the work place has reached the ultimate level of my tolerance and believe me, what I would give to be able to chase adrenaline like a junkie again. I mean seriously, all that politicking and self - gratification has weakened me to the core. An emotional wreck!
Take for example the fact that people are disappearing like hell and resigning because some idiots just don't know how to compromise. We are losing tenured agents because apparently management (that includes me) are so obsessed with pleasing the clients without even realizing that agents are already pitied against each other. I asked myself a million times what I can do to at least reach out to them but it turns out that my hands are tied, mouth is glued, and my principles are even stuck on some baseless judgment. Yes, I feel so disabled and it's hell of a frustration to look at them suffer and left to lick their wounds and whimper in the brush! That alone stresses the hell out of me... Messianic complex. I wish I can do something. But yeah, even wishing turned out to be nothing but an elusive dream.
That among others, has caused nothing but erratic surge and yes, I am already choking.
Somebody call 911.
How am I? Loaded. And that is even an understatement. 'Tis one of those days when you'd want to summon all the gods of the earth to just eat you alive. Stress level in the work place has reached the ultimate level of my tolerance and believe me, what I would give to be able to chase adrenaline like a junkie again. I mean seriously, all that politicking and self - gratification has weakened me to the core. An emotional wreck!
Take for example the fact that people are disappearing like hell and resigning because some idiots just don't know how to compromise. We are losing tenured agents because apparently management (that includes me) are so obsessed with pleasing the clients without even realizing that agents are already pitied against each other. I asked myself a million times what I can do to at least reach out to them but it turns out that my hands are tied, mouth is glued, and my principles are even stuck on some baseless judgment. Yes, I feel so disabled and it's hell of a frustration to look at them suffer and left to lick their wounds and whimper in the brush! That alone stresses the hell out of me... Messianic complex. I wish I can do something. But yeah, even wishing turned out to be nothing but an elusive dream.
That among others, has caused nothing but erratic surge and yes, I am already choking.
Somebody call 911.
A Message To My Readers
I noticed the increasing number of followers on this blog and to that, I am very overwhelmed! I'd like to thank all of you for taking time to listen to my incessant rants and mindless rambling... I would love to get to know you all better and perhaps talk to you personally or online so please add me up at YM or MSN. My usernames are the following:
YM: holygrailofsarcasm
MSN: geekingit
Drop me a line or two and let's start planning on how to drive the world into domination frenzy... :)
YM: holygrailofsarcasm
MSN: geekingit
Drop me a line or two and let's start planning on how to drive the world into domination frenzy... :)
Cherry Blossoms
If you have been following my blog, then you would have known what a masochist I am. Whenever I feel like the world just seems too bottled up and I wanna break free from the shackles of constriction and the manacles of segregation, I call on to my tattoo artist to get my listless pulp colored.
I vowed to myself though that every time, I allow myself to go through this physical pain, the art and ink embedded on my skin should carry a purpose and a meaning. So yes, ladies and gentlemen, I did it again. As to how long I'm gonna make this an outlet of releasing my stress, I really dunno... =)
I vowed to myself though that every time, I allow myself to go through this physical pain, the art and ink embedded on my skin should carry a purpose and a meaning. So yes, ladies and gentlemen, I did it again. As to how long I'm gonna make this an outlet of releasing my stress, I really dunno... =)
I chose cherry blossoms this time. The Chinese say it;s a symbol of power and love and the power of femininity. Ah, a woman like me asserting her power of independence. Since this flower only blossoms for a period of time, the Japanese on the other hand sees it a symbol of life's brevity...
There. Beautifully etched on my left foot are 5 cherry blossoms reminding me that it is not noble to get too attached to life because all is transitory and will pass in time.
***** Please dont mind the ugly foot... :p
There. Beautifully etched on my left foot are 5 cherry blossoms reminding me that it is not noble to get too attached to life because all is transitory and will pass in time.
***** Please dont mind the ugly foot... :p
Inked (Part nth)
There's something about needles that makes me marvel at it's beauty. I am amazed at how one prick can already cause wheezing and gnashing of teeth. There something about pain that makes me alive. There's something about getting hurt and crying that makes me appreciate life and its complexities. Whenever I feel so depressed and bottled up, I think of needles and getting a tattoo. It's my way of letting the whole world know that after experiencing extreme anguish, there's still beauty round about. :)
I got inked again last Monday. Unlike the previous experiences, this was the most horrid and painful experience. It lasted for 6 hours and I was on the verge of really wailing due to extreme pain. But the ironic part was after my back was all bruised and bloodied, and after the excruciating pain, I smiled and said, "I will be fine. Twas worth all the pain.."
my favorite tattoo artist (very patient and nice) doing his thing...
the most painful part of the whole process. Bjork (artist), said twas because of the location...
"Open your eyes and look within. are you satisfied with the life you're living?"
this for now.... more to come... =)
Hey, you!
Yep, I'll never grow tired of reminding you that along your treacherous journey to maturity and picking up the pieces, I'll be right behind you. Trust, I shall not be moved. For as long as you want me to stay, I'll be rooted. :) No, you dont have to do anything. Just simply flash me that smile and stick around. *wink*
...
It has been a rough two weeks for me and my friends. Work has been a total chaos and my personal life has meddled with the seemingly impossible intertwined problems left unsolved. I do not have the slightest plans of discussing it point by point here as I feel that the whole ordeal has caused me too much trauma and what not.
It would be too hypocritical to say that I am okay. I am not. In fact, I am sad. I am on the verge of just giving up. Thinking of abandoning the world and just settling in some vast cosmos where the only person capable of hurting me is my self. I grieve each passing day and putting up a happy and unperturbed front has been really taxing and tedious.
I wish there was a switch somewhere in my body that I can just press so I can turn off my ability to feel pain and sadness. I've been telling people about the Law of Attraction but I find it ironic that I cant even think of anything happy these days. Urgh!
I definitely need a break. To let loose from what's keeping me down. To get rid of this lump in my throat and this swell on my heart. Oh, god I swear am losing it!
It would be too hypocritical to say that I am okay. I am not. In fact, I am sad. I am on the verge of just giving up. Thinking of abandoning the world and just settling in some vast cosmos where the only person capable of hurting me is my self. I grieve each passing day and putting up a happy and unperturbed front has been really taxing and tedious.
I wish there was a switch somewhere in my body that I can just press so I can turn off my ability to feel pain and sadness. I've been telling people about the Law of Attraction but I find it ironic that I cant even think of anything happy these days. Urgh!
I definitely need a break. To let loose from what's keeping me down. To get rid of this lump in my throat and this swell on my heart. Oh, god I swear am losing it!
Of Skinned and Broken Hearts
And how could I blame you? You never made any promises. You never treated me different from anyone else. I was just your friend, much like you were to me, but things change. I changed, but you didn’t.
Isn’t it funny how things became so complicated over a couple of brightly lit ideas? Everything started with a joke and now, ironically, the joke is on me. Falling is hard, especially if you can’t trust the person to be there to catch you if you did. I knew that from the start but still, I lost my balance and fell and what the hell did I get? No bones were broken and no blood had spilled. Well not yet anyway… for all I got was a mere bump, and my world is still damn spinning.
Makes me think about that poem from "Ten Things I Hate About You"
I hate the way you talk to me
And the way you cut your hair
I hate the way you drive my car
I hate it when you stare
I hate your big, dumb combat boots
And the way you read my mind
I hate you so much it makes me sick
It even makes me rhyme
I hate the way you’re always right
I hate it when you lie
I hate it when you make me laugh
Even worse when you make me cry
I hate it when you’re not around
And the fact that you didn’t call
But mostly, I hate the way I don’t hate you
Not even once, not even a little bit, not even at all
Well don’t flatter yourself too much coz you wouldn’t get a single decent poem out of me. That’s too pathetic. Sheesh!! Now why the hell am I writing this?
Maybe I’m writing this to question my behavior. Perhaps to discover the why’s and what-for’s of my insanity. Or maybe even justify my ignorance and give reason to my upgraded self-torture. Perhaps I’m taunting fate to play a prank and make you read this. Who cares? I know you wouldn’t.
I’m not sure which is sadder, the fact that I’m not with you or realizing the fact that I’ll never be with you. You tell me.
How did it all began is no longer important. What’s bugging me is how it should end. How can I? All my promises and resolutions are shattered each time I hear from you, or even think of you. Was it really that silly the way I went nuts every time you give me a ring? *sigh*
I just wish you would know how much you changed me. Or did you? All I know is I wanted to be different, and it’s all because of you. Oh how I envied you! How I wished I could be more like you. Young, carefree, and renewed!
You, the high spirited one who goes through life’s little adventures with reckless abandon. You, the person who’s placidity is so contagious that someone who’s as gullible as I would think that as a norm of the society. You, who’s ever so passionate with the little things that jaded people such as I (again) would normally overlook. You, with your weird taste in music, surrealistic ideas, hearty and not so hearty laughs, dumb optimism and most of all, I envied the way you loved.
Love. Just like happiness, love is such an elusive word. Though I must admit, you’re one of the few people who captured its essence. You cannot choose love. The mind cannot decide what the heart should feel. Hearing those words from you melted the cynical side of me. Letting go for sublime reasons seems stupid and selfish, but in your case, it’s not. It was never a sacrifice coz in reality, you never lost her — not even for a single heartbeat.
Her. I didn’t get the chance to ‘really’ know her, and for that I’m eternally grateful. But then again, I know for a fact that I can never measure up to her, and knowing her for real wouldn’t change a thing. I’d simply have a brighter concept on what was in her that made you so… human.While you avoid talking about her and the past, I know, she will always have a special place in that heart of yours and perhaps even more. Damn it! Why do I even hurt this way?
You’re far from being perfect and so am I. If I were perfect I wouldn’t be here, sighing over a drag of luckies that just fell while hating myself. I’d be somewhere else, smiling like a psycho over the drag of luckies that just fell, figuring I’m too good for you and your mere existence was just another complexity that I have no use of.
But I am not. So I’d still be here, confused and angry with myself, and forevermore consuming you in my dreams.
Why can't you just love me back?
Isn’t it funny how things became so complicated over a couple of brightly lit ideas? Everything started with a joke and now, ironically, the joke is on me. Falling is hard, especially if you can’t trust the person to be there to catch you if you did. I knew that from the start but still, I lost my balance and fell and what the hell did I get? No bones were broken and no blood had spilled. Well not yet anyway… for all I got was a mere bump, and my world is still damn spinning.
Makes me think about that poem from "Ten Things I Hate About You"
I hate the way you talk to me
And the way you cut your hair
I hate the way you drive my car
I hate it when you stare
I hate your big, dumb combat boots
And the way you read my mind
I hate you so much it makes me sick
It even makes me rhyme
I hate the way you’re always right
I hate it when you lie
I hate it when you make me laugh
Even worse when you make me cry
I hate it when you’re not around
And the fact that you didn’t call
But mostly, I hate the way I don’t hate you
Not even once, not even a little bit, not even at all
Well don’t flatter yourself too much coz you wouldn’t get a single decent poem out of me. That’s too pathetic. Sheesh!! Now why the hell am I writing this?
Maybe I’m writing this to question my behavior. Perhaps to discover the why’s and what-for’s of my insanity. Or maybe even justify my ignorance and give reason to my upgraded self-torture. Perhaps I’m taunting fate to play a prank and make you read this. Who cares? I know you wouldn’t.
I’m not sure which is sadder, the fact that I’m not with you or realizing the fact that I’ll never be with you. You tell me.
How did it all began is no longer important. What’s bugging me is how it should end. How can I? All my promises and resolutions are shattered each time I hear from you, or even think of you. Was it really that silly the way I went nuts every time you give me a ring? *sigh*
I just wish you would know how much you changed me. Or did you? All I know is I wanted to be different, and it’s all because of you. Oh how I envied you! How I wished I could be more like you. Young, carefree, and renewed!
You, the high spirited one who goes through life’s little adventures with reckless abandon. You, the person who’s placidity is so contagious that someone who’s as gullible as I would think that as a norm of the society. You, who’s ever so passionate with the little things that jaded people such as I (again) would normally overlook. You, with your weird taste in music, surrealistic ideas, hearty and not so hearty laughs, dumb optimism and most of all, I envied the way you loved.
Love. Just like happiness, love is such an elusive word. Though I must admit, you’re one of the few people who captured its essence. You cannot choose love. The mind cannot decide what the heart should feel. Hearing those words from you melted the cynical side of me. Letting go for sublime reasons seems stupid and selfish, but in your case, it’s not. It was never a sacrifice coz in reality, you never lost her — not even for a single heartbeat.
Her. I didn’t get the chance to ‘really’ know her, and for that I’m eternally grateful. But then again, I know for a fact that I can never measure up to her, and knowing her for real wouldn’t change a thing. I’d simply have a brighter concept on what was in her that made you so… human.While you avoid talking about her and the past, I know, she will always have a special place in that heart of yours and perhaps even more. Damn it! Why do I even hurt this way?
You’re far from being perfect and so am I. If I were perfect I wouldn’t be here, sighing over a drag of luckies that just fell while hating myself. I’d be somewhere else, smiling like a psycho over the drag of luckies that just fell, figuring I’m too good for you and your mere existence was just another complexity that I have no use of.
But I am not. So I’d still be here, confused and angry with myself, and forevermore consuming you in my dreams.
Why can't you just love me back?
27th Bday!
Because I have a 'Goddess' for a friend who at the last minute coerced me to have a birthday celebration, I decided to invite some people (about 50) close to me to an evening of booze, revelry and music. Open Mic was reserved from 6pm to 2am and boy, what a wonderful day it was. I'm just sooooo blessed to be surrounded with wonderful people who stood by me through it all. Here are snippets of the WHITE PARTY.:)
one kid who can make me laugh like there is no tomorrow...
managers who showed they cared despite the odds...
and yes, a wannabee macho dancer tried to stimulate the crowd (in fairness, he somehow succeeded)
wonderful, smart, and simply adorable trainees...
happy and gay friends...
beautiful people...
college bestfriends - the Spice Girls with their favorite man of the night...
=)Life begins at 30 they say... Well, mine blossomed at 27! :)
Happy birthday to me!!!
Happy birthday to me!!!
Ravaging Thoughts!
A hundred knives running their edges against the sides of my head.
Even my eyelashes feel tired. Senses acute.
I can smell the sweat just starting to break through my skin.
Blue waters turning black, then blue, then black...
And I realize that I'm just staring at my eyes.
Blue are the spider veins just beneath the surface around the orbs.
Jaws tight. I feel great weight pulling down on my head keeping them slack.
Knives. Those blasted, damn knives running their edges against the sides of my head!
Wouldn't it be lovely to twist my neck so far that it would snap?
I bet the knives wouldn't hurt as bad as my neck would and that would only be for a time.
A sudden second.
Hypothermia by a glass of water. Unstoppable, unrelenting shivers, almost spasms...
just by drinking a glass of water. The fucking universal solvent...
what's supposed to be the fucking cleanest cure for the fucking ails of the world?
Can't cure me.
I need a freaking break....
I'm tired.
Even my eyelashes feel tired. Senses acute.
I can smell the sweat just starting to break through my skin.
Blue waters turning black, then blue, then black...
And I realize that I'm just staring at my eyes.
Blue are the spider veins just beneath the surface around the orbs.
Jaws tight. I feel great weight pulling down on my head keeping them slack.
Knives. Those blasted, damn knives running their edges against the sides of my head!
Wouldn't it be lovely to twist my neck so far that it would snap?
I bet the knives wouldn't hurt as bad as my neck would and that would only be for a time.
A sudden second.
Hypothermia by a glass of water. Unstoppable, unrelenting shivers, almost spasms...
just by drinking a glass of water. The fucking universal solvent...
what's supposed to be the fucking cleanest cure for the fucking ails of the world?
Can't cure me.
I need a freaking break....
I'm tired.
Rants
"You dont upset me. You dont matter enough to upset me!" - The Reader
This one line resonates in my head these days.
A not so angst - ridden bday post! :)
Dear Somebody Up There Who Likes Me,
Another year have passed and thanks to you I’m still alive!
It has been twenty-seven years. Three years from now I’ll be in my thirties and I’m glad that somehow you made me grow old gracefully. People still think I’m twenty-five and I would often correct them by saying, “Twenty-six”. However, I cannot be twenty-six for two years hence I admit that I need to grow up.
I don’t know if I ever made any birthday wishes in the past. I guess this would be the first time I would even make one that is so... public.
I made enough money this year but am still debating whether to do a celebration or not. I was thinking maybe I can celebrate it virtually. Right here with people who like reading my stuff, with those who over the years have become my friends and with those who feel they actually see themselves in the things I write. They are the ones who make my virtual presence "real". I'm thankful to them for putting more sense in what I write.
Let’s hope they have enough imagination to fill this entire page with a room full of balloons. Oh yes, how I love balloons even as a little child. Color it with hues of mauve and white; throw in some red and pink too. And of course don’t forget the cake in the middle of the room. Place it on a pink table with probably lechon, spaghetti, and ice cream on the side. And if you’re in the mood for it, you can also turn water into wine.
I know I’m guilty of counting my mistakes and my faults but since it’s my special day today, I think I’ll start counting my blessings.
I thank you each day...
... for giving me good friends. I may have no riches to speak of, I may not have my own car or my own house but with real friends around I can hitch a ride and crash into their place anytime I need one.
... for my virtual office. Nobody else sees it but me. Some people think I may have lost my mind going to work in my bikini or to dance around the office naked every time there’s a deadline and I cannot come up with anything creative to write.
... for my wonderful enemies... for despising me for who I am and for making me realize that I am better than them.
... for my job who feeds me and pays for my wants and needs.
... for ever looking my age and still giving me extra allowance. Bless their soul!
... for giving me the gift of writing. Without it I wouldn’t have used a portion of my frigid brain.
... and yes, I’m sick and tired of dating aimlessly and living an angry and lonely life. From hereon, can we please work on getting me a serious, loving, and long-term relationship?
I read somewhere that in order to get what you want, you have to know what you want. There’s this list I want to share which I made last night about how I picture my "ideal" man. I didnt bothering editing as I was laughing like hell when I read it again!
1. Single (way girlfriend ug way asawa).
2. Taller than me (I’m around 5’0”).
3. Gwapo in his own special, unique way.
4. Maayo mo timing.
5. Smart.
6. Chismoso with a good sense of humor.
7. Sweet.
8. Kama o moluto.
9. Not polygamous.
10. Someone who can surprise me.
11. Nindot ug broad shoulders para nice i hug.
12. Someone who will take care of me and who'll make me feel loved.
13. Pwedeng Lamaze coach.
14. Tattooed
15. Earning more than I am
16. Secure enough to let me keep my maiden name after we’re married.
Hmm...looks like a handful. No wonder I’m confused.
Never mind the list!
In simpler terms, help me find a good man who can make me laugh. The rest is negotiable.
Love,
Myself
P.S. I hope he finds me before I expire.
Another year have passed and thanks to you I’m still alive!
It has been twenty-seven years. Three years from now I’ll be in my thirties and I’m glad that somehow you made me grow old gracefully. People still think I’m twenty-five and I would often correct them by saying, “Twenty-six”. However, I cannot be twenty-six for two years hence I admit that I need to grow up.
I don’t know if I ever made any birthday wishes in the past. I guess this would be the first time I would even make one that is so... public.
I made enough money this year but am still debating whether to do a celebration or not. I was thinking maybe I can celebrate it virtually. Right here with people who like reading my stuff, with those who over the years have become my friends and with those who feel they actually see themselves in the things I write. They are the ones who make my virtual presence "real". I'm thankful to them for putting more sense in what I write.
Let’s hope they have enough imagination to fill this entire page with a room full of balloons. Oh yes, how I love balloons even as a little child. Color it with hues of mauve and white; throw in some red and pink too. And of course don’t forget the cake in the middle of the room. Place it on a pink table with probably lechon, spaghetti, and ice cream on the side. And if you’re in the mood for it, you can also turn water into wine.
I know I’m guilty of counting my mistakes and my faults but since it’s my special day today, I think I’ll start counting my blessings.
I thank you each day...
... for giving me good friends. I may have no riches to speak of, I may not have my own car or my own house but with real friends around I can hitch a ride and crash into their place anytime I need one.
... for my virtual office. Nobody else sees it but me. Some people think I may have lost my mind going to work in my bikini or to dance around the office naked every time there’s a deadline and I cannot come up with anything creative to write.
... for my wonderful enemies... for despising me for who I am and for making me realize that I am better than them.
... for my job who feeds me and pays for my wants and needs.
... for ever looking my age and still giving me extra allowance. Bless their soul!
... for giving me the gift of writing. Without it I wouldn’t have used a portion of my frigid brain.
... and yes, I’m sick and tired of dating aimlessly and living an angry and lonely life. From hereon, can we please work on getting me a serious, loving, and long-term relationship?
I read somewhere that in order to get what you want, you have to know what you want. There’s this list I want to share which I made last night about how I picture my "ideal" man. I didnt bothering editing as I was laughing like hell when I read it again!
1. Single (way girlfriend ug way asawa).
2. Taller than me (I’m around 5’0”).
3. Gwapo in his own special, unique way.
4. Maayo mo timing.
5. Smart.
6. Chismoso with a good sense of humor.
7. Sweet.
8. Kama o moluto.
9. Not polygamous.
10. Someone who can surprise me.
11. Nindot ug broad shoulders para nice i hug.
12. Someone who will take care of me and who'll make me feel loved.
13. Pwedeng Lamaze coach.
14. Tattooed
15. Earning more than I am
16. Secure enough to let me keep my maiden name after we’re married.
Hmm...looks like a handful. No wonder I’m confused.
Never mind the list!
In simpler terms, help me find a good man who can make me laugh. The rest is negotiable.
Love,
Myself
P.S. I hope he finds me before I expire.
A Birthday Post!
I was born on a day mapped out to be a free day for the next x number of years due to some people's fight for freedom. I was born on a day destined to be an afterthought if not completely forgotten by people who I think are my friends. I was born on a day made to be subsumed into all the other festivities around it.
Yeah, I celebrated my birthday today and it never fascinated me at all! I got the requisite "happy birthday"s and pleas for "libre" then the day sank back into its regular pace as if nothing had ever happened. I know I sometimes claim to be all of the three omnis, but it doesn’t take special powers or god-like attributes to know that growing a year older is seldom good news. I want to be 20 forever. That being impossible at this point, I want to be 27 forever. It depresses me to think that after 27 comes 28, and after 28, the digits don’t stop rolling.
Maybe people crave for the attention on "days" like this, but I certainly am not one of those people. I really am not one for huge scandalous displays.
Throughout the years, I really tried my best to remember to greet people on their birthday because I knew how bad it felt not to be remembered by anyone, other than a family who decides to spare me some precious time to greet me. In the past few years, I’ve slowly stopped greeting people because apparently, birthdays aren't supposed to be special. They’re evil societal creations engineered to make you think it's your "special" day - all the stories, TV shows, etc... have made it out to be so, but in reality it's just an excuse for people without lunch to leech some food off of you, and it's just an opportunity for everyone around you to make you feel how insignificant you really are to them. duh!
Yeah, I celebrated my birthday today and it never fascinated me at all! I got the requisite "happy birthday"s and pleas for "libre" then the day sank back into its regular pace as if nothing had ever happened. I know I sometimes claim to be all of the three omnis, but it doesn’t take special powers or god-like attributes to know that growing a year older is seldom good news. I want to be 20 forever. That being impossible at this point, I want to be 27 forever. It depresses me to think that after 27 comes 28, and after 28, the digits don’t stop rolling.
Maybe people crave for the attention on "days" like this, but I certainly am not one of those people. I really am not one for huge scandalous displays.
Throughout the years, I really tried my best to remember to greet people on their birthday because I knew how bad it felt not to be remembered by anyone, other than a family who decides to spare me some precious time to greet me. In the past few years, I’ve slowly stopped greeting people because apparently, birthdays aren't supposed to be special. They’re evil societal creations engineered to make you think it's your "special" day - all the stories, TV shows, etc... have made it out to be so, but in reality it's just an excuse for people without lunch to leech some food off of you, and it's just an opportunity for everyone around you to make you feel how insignificant you really are to them. duh!
Despite strict instructions to friends never to greet me on my birthday, they did so anyway. You see, I have hard - headed people as friends so I might as well greet myself too - all for the sake of, well, I dont even know. :p
Happy Birthday, Self!
Never mind the abnormal look. Photo taken 2 hours earlier at Dessert Factory. My high school bestfriend, Pipip treated me to dinner. :) Thanks, Pip! Wav yah!
Booze Musings
The days have been so slow lately. They remind me of ripples on the brittle page of the hymnal in the church.
I wish I were back in Moalboal basking on the mid day sun or just smelling the air that caresses the bright red and yellow hibiscus. Or enjoying the night watching the moon sailing on the skies like a sultry goddess. I guess that would have been a better alternative than counting the coffee stains or the silvery sugar grains on the white table cover. I move my feet, they drag like old boats on the wooden tiles…
It is starting to rain. The raindrops are dancing on the sill. I wanna see myself soaking the rain’s opulent passion. I wanna enjoy it more when the lights are out and we are sipping vodka mixes in tall glasses.
The days have been so slow and I have no choice but to waste time. There’s too much of it anyway. I need something to delude the monotony of too much time. I need a new clock …a faster clock…no I need something---an engaging element…not a book---it did not work. I need a better engaging element to break the pointless-ness of counting sugar grains on the coffee-stained table cover.
The rain has stopped. I have consumed three sets of toxic buzz and raging river and a sprig of highlight. I have smoked a pack of Menthol lights in my head…written a dozen pitiful scribbles on the sides of my favorite book.
I am drunk again. Again I am drunk- drunk I entertain my musings like a Storyteller lifts colors in her head. It mocks me like the soiled sparrows owning the cracks under the roof. I toss the last contents of the vodka It cuts a fiery trail down my throat. I can see a dragon riding a rainbow behind the windows. My eyes are playing those damn tricks again…
Yes, I'm beginning to taste your absence but this is what's best for me.
Damn, I why did I ever fall for you?
I wish I were back in Moalboal basking on the mid day sun or just smelling the air that caresses the bright red and yellow hibiscus. Or enjoying the night watching the moon sailing on the skies like a sultry goddess. I guess that would have been a better alternative than counting the coffee stains or the silvery sugar grains on the white table cover. I move my feet, they drag like old boats on the wooden tiles…
It is starting to rain. The raindrops are dancing on the sill. I wanna see myself soaking the rain’s opulent passion. I wanna enjoy it more when the lights are out and we are sipping vodka mixes in tall glasses.
The days have been so slow and I have no choice but to waste time. There’s too much of it anyway. I need something to delude the monotony of too much time. I need a new clock …a faster clock…no I need something---an engaging element…not a book---it did not work. I need a better engaging element to break the pointless-ness of counting sugar grains on the coffee-stained table cover.
The rain has stopped. I have consumed three sets of toxic buzz and raging river and a sprig of highlight. I have smoked a pack of Menthol lights in my head…written a dozen pitiful scribbles on the sides of my favorite book.
I am drunk again. Again I am drunk- drunk I entertain my musings like a Storyteller lifts colors in her head. It mocks me like the soiled sparrows owning the cracks under the roof. I toss the last contents of the vodka It cuts a fiery trail down my throat. I can see a dragon riding a rainbow behind the windows. My eyes are playing those damn tricks again…
Yes, I'm beginning to taste your absence but this is what's best for me.
Damn, I why did I ever fall for you?
On Losing and Choices
I lost a hefty amount of money the other night - equivalent to over half of the pay I get every month. I was shattered and torn but for the first time, I didn't dwell on the loss. I asked everyone who got so concerned about me not to talk about it anymore as twas my way of moving on from the situation.
You see, most of the heartaches in life are caused by our incapacity to move on from a disaster. While most of us feel that getting so consumed with adversaries in life makes us whole and alive, I'd say that dwelling in them proves to be a lot more barbaric and catastrophic.
I decided to forget about that money not because I can easily earn it but because crying over it won't return it to me. Choosing to move on and think about happy thoughts was a decision I knew I had to make otherwise it'll only shatter this excitement I feel for my upcoming birthday.
Life's always like that. One moment you're happy then something untoward makes you feel bad. But over the years, I learned that everything is always a choice. Wallowing on something negative wouldn't do me any good either.
So yes, I'll brave any storms just like this with a great beacon light of hope and a smile on my face.
You see, most of the heartaches in life are caused by our incapacity to move on from a disaster. While most of us feel that getting so consumed with adversaries in life makes us whole and alive, I'd say that dwelling in them proves to be a lot more barbaric and catastrophic.
I decided to forget about that money not because I can easily earn it but because crying over it won't return it to me. Choosing to move on and think about happy thoughts was a decision I knew I had to make otherwise it'll only shatter this excitement I feel for my upcoming birthday.
Life's always like that. One moment you're happy then something untoward makes you feel bad. But over the years, I learned that everything is always a choice. Wallowing on something negative wouldn't do me any good either.
So yes, I'll brave any storms just like this with a great beacon light of hope and a smile on my face.
Sourgrapes!
I have never celebrated Valentine’s Day yet as normal people would, which means I have never celebrated it before. I consider it a day like any ordinary, mundane day. Yes, I have experienced posting little messages of mush on our classroom’s eons of years ago but that was nothing. I have never experienced having this mushy, icky feeling lovers get when February 14 comes to mind. I do not have a valentine’s date to look forward to, nor do I have a special someone to spice up the day with. I’m one of those who flip immediately to the magazine page containing survival guides for the single blessed girls. I just read one last night. Instead of feeling less unhappy because of my membership to the “lonely hearts club,” I guess I feel even pathetic. Not because I do have nothing and no one to spend the day with, but because I have allowed myself to think that I’m that hopeless.
I honestly think that Valentine’s Day is an unfair holiday. It is a holiday created by those who would benefit from it --- the greeting card makers, flower vendors, chocolate factory, restaurant and motel owners. It is a scam they made up so they can add up another holiday to increase their profits. It deprives the right of when to express our sappiest of feelings for it gives us the notion that all our activities related with romance and the like should be done before the day ends; no other day is perfectly apt. Valentine’s makes your calorimeter and weighing scale scream with its chocolate and other sweet stuff. It is not environment-friendly, mind you, with all those trees cut down for the making of these commercialized rhyming cards and candy wrappers. Traffic is exacerbated as concupiscent couples troop to their places of rendezvous. The worst, I would have to say, is it inhumanely discriminates people who are not currently involved in relationships. The sight of couples engaging in public display of affection is enough to make unattached persons excruciate in pain and feel emotionally retarded.
Yes, I a am aware that I'm beginning to sound a bit like a Valentine Scrooge! *tsk*
But seriously now, maybe Valentine’s Day is really just for those who have snagged a person from the opposite sex whom they can turn around their little finger whenever they feel like it. Or for those who have successfully won the heart of their beloved after months and months of nonstop wooing. Maybe especially for those who are so much willing to kiss their beloved’s feet if they’re asked to, just so they would fulfill their beloved’s every wish. But I believe, we don’t need to be all fancy shmancy in celebrating Valentine’s Day. We don’t need to give expensive “Holland Tulips” flowers to girlfriends or wives or that special someone. Over the years, Valentine’s Day has lost its true meaning. For some, it’s all about giving gifts. You don’t need costly and luxurious gifts to show someone you care for and love him or her. Thus, letting them know and showing them how you feel is priceless enough. If only, thi sis everyone's [erception about Vday, then the entire universe would have celebrated this everyday. But of course, all that is written here is just based on my (whacky?) opinion.
But above this brouhaha, I know I still belong to this group of unattached who would just sleep this day off but I would not call myself unfortunate; people who indulge in this maelstrom are. You show heaps of love and romance once a year yet three hundred sixty- four days you are the living modification of hell. Now that is so V Day pathetic.
Okay, I don't really care if all you smell is sourgrapes!
I honestly think that Valentine’s Day is an unfair holiday. It is a holiday created by those who would benefit from it --- the greeting card makers, flower vendors, chocolate factory, restaurant and motel owners. It is a scam they made up so they can add up another holiday to increase their profits. It deprives the right of when to express our sappiest of feelings for it gives us the notion that all our activities related with romance and the like should be done before the day ends; no other day is perfectly apt. Valentine’s makes your calorimeter and weighing scale scream with its chocolate and other sweet stuff. It is not environment-friendly, mind you, with all those trees cut down for the making of these commercialized rhyming cards and candy wrappers. Traffic is exacerbated as concupiscent couples troop to their places of rendezvous. The worst, I would have to say, is it inhumanely discriminates people who are not currently involved in relationships. The sight of couples engaging in public display of affection is enough to make unattached persons excruciate in pain and feel emotionally retarded.
Yes, I a am aware that I'm beginning to sound a bit like a Valentine Scrooge! *tsk*
But seriously now, maybe Valentine’s Day is really just for those who have snagged a person from the opposite sex whom they can turn around their little finger whenever they feel like it. Or for those who have successfully won the heart of their beloved after months and months of nonstop wooing. Maybe especially for those who are so much willing to kiss their beloved’s feet if they’re asked to, just so they would fulfill their beloved’s every wish. But I believe, we don’t need to be all fancy shmancy in celebrating Valentine’s Day. We don’t need to give expensive “Holland Tulips” flowers to girlfriends or wives or that special someone. Over the years, Valentine’s Day has lost its true meaning. For some, it’s all about giving gifts. You don’t need costly and luxurious gifts to show someone you care for and love him or her. Thus, letting them know and showing them how you feel is priceless enough. If only, thi sis everyone's [erception about Vday, then the entire universe would have celebrated this everyday. But of course, all that is written here is just based on my (whacky?) opinion.
But above this brouhaha, I know I still belong to this group of unattached who would just sleep this day off but I would not call myself unfortunate; people who indulge in this maelstrom are. You show heaps of love and romance once a year yet three hundred sixty- four days you are the living modification of hell. Now that is so V Day pathetic.
Okay, I don't really care if all you smell is sourgrapes!
Daddy Rey
Dear Dad,
I'm thankful I had the chance to tell you how wonderful twas to be working with you on the small Christmas card I gave you 3 years ago. More so, to be considered your "adopted" daughter during the span of time, we were going through training and Abay. You have always been the ever supportive and loving dad anyone would wanted. I thought you were the coolest - at 51 you were employed, for the first time in the call center industry. You were great! How you messed around with the boys at break time and how you always had this grin on your face which never fails to amuse me in more ways than one.
When you quit, I knew it wasn't the end of the friendship. We would often times bump into each other , 3 months ago being the last, and you'd never fail to give me the warmest hug.
Then 2 weeks ago, I heard news of your sudden death. I was forlorn but I never realized that it would hurt me that much when I attended your necrology service. I was in between sobs while reminiscing what a wonderful person you were , inside and out. It made me realize how fickle and short life is. I couldnt muster enough courage to look at you one last time because I want to remember you as the ever smiling Daddy Rey I love sitting beside with during OJT and Abay. The guy who would love to wear this immaculate white shirt and faded jeans. The old man who made me feel that I was loved like a daughter for a time.
I will miss you, dad but I know you're in a better place now.
I know I'll see you again sometime.
I'm thankful I had the chance to tell you how wonderful twas to be working with you on the small Christmas card I gave you 3 years ago. More so, to be considered your "adopted" daughter during the span of time, we were going through training and Abay. You have always been the ever supportive and loving dad anyone would wanted. I thought you were the coolest - at 51 you were employed, for the first time in the call center industry. You were great! How you messed around with the boys at break time and how you always had this grin on your face which never fails to amuse me in more ways than one.
When you quit, I knew it wasn't the end of the friendship. We would often times bump into each other , 3 months ago being the last, and you'd never fail to give me the warmest hug.
Then 2 weeks ago, I heard news of your sudden death. I was forlorn but I never realized that it would hurt me that much when I attended your necrology service. I was in between sobs while reminiscing what a wonderful person you were , inside and out. It made me realize how fickle and short life is. I couldnt muster enough courage to look at you one last time because I want to remember you as the ever smiling Daddy Rey I love sitting beside with during OJT and Abay. The guy who would love to wear this immaculate white shirt and faded jeans. The old man who made me feel that I was loved like a daughter for a time.
I will miss you, dad but I know you're in a better place now.
I know I'll see you again sometime.
Batch 7
Yes, Ive gone MIA again and you can blame the effffing work for it. It's always the case anyway.So I started the new batch last January 25 and as expected, I had the time of my life. There's something about this batch that makes it all the more exciting compared to the previous batches Ive handled. Not really that I'm patronizing this bunch but you see, Ive never seen a batch of very transparent people. It's like a convoluted mixture of all the personalities who have gone through extreme form of adversities. Haha. Uber cool and awesome!
I have 4 who are in a same sex relationship (Gada to Butch) and are mighty proud about it. A, infact has braved the odds about the relationship for 8 years now. Beat that! I have one cheating (yes, she has an affair) mom with five kids whose "houseband" is a monumental pain in the ass. I have two nurse couples (both witty and smart) who both fell in love when they were still in college and are exactly the opposite of each other but they make beautiful chemistry together. I have a traditional Maranao of a trainee who uses the training room every 12 noon to pray, how cool is that. She let me borrow a copy of the Koran and yes, I seriously find the book interesting, Im just about to finish it. *wink*
Then there's this guy of wisdom and age - terms I use to label him. Haha.. He is 31 but acts like a teenager, has a wonderful job of immitating Gus Abelgas and renz Verano and baptized himself as the president of Kappans (Kawatan ug Panty) with two other trainees who seem to be clueless all the time as his subordinates.
Then I have thsi basketball player of a trainee who towers the height of 6'1 and is effing good at cartooning, he can immitate any artwork he likes using only Paint. Very talented.
And who would ever miss A; the noise increases in decibels when he speaks. I sometimes think that because of drug abuse in the past, he has done so much damage on his brain cells that it actually has a "genius effect" on him. YOu see, he's the fastest guy in class. He'd ask very logical questions and would always think outside the box. Now am beginning to wonder, what effects those pills I took has on me.
And yes, the last but definitely not the least. P, who never cease to stun if not amuse the class with his words of wisdom. Take this instance for example when we were taling about life and problems. He blurted, "Dont think about your problems because the problem will fix itself!" And the class just went wild. He would tell us about how he lived a reckless life in the past. Hes jaunts of pot sessions and everything else. To some people, he will always be misunderstood but to the class, he remains to be that wonder kid who makes us laugh to the bones every 3pm. In one of our random conversations with the class, he said, "No, men are born monopolous!" He wanted to give his argument when I said "men by nature are born polygamous!" When asked what he was thinking when he used the word "monopolous" he said he was thinking of the game Monopoly. Waaaaaaa. He can think of random words he created like "spontinuality" and what not. He has this candid way of making the whole class just burst into laughter but in all fairness to him, he'd also ask convergent and divergent questions. A walking contradiction.
Well, I had fun while it lasted. You see, starting today, I'm off to the night shift again so I turned them over to my favorite Coach of all time, Gracie. :) I know they'll be in good hands. I will miss them. I will miss smiling so early in the morning, I think my gums would just jump off from my mouth.
In life, we meet a lot of people. They will leave footprints and we are never the same. :)
I have 4 who are in a same sex relationship (Gada to Butch) and are mighty proud about it. A, infact has braved the odds about the relationship for 8 years now. Beat that! I have one cheating (yes, she has an affair) mom with five kids whose "houseband" is a monumental pain in the ass. I have two nurse couples (both witty and smart) who both fell in love when they were still in college and are exactly the opposite of each other but they make beautiful chemistry together. I have a traditional Maranao of a trainee who uses the training room every 12 noon to pray, how cool is that. She let me borrow a copy of the Koran and yes, I seriously find the book interesting, Im just about to finish it. *wink*
Then there's this guy of wisdom and age - terms I use to label him. Haha.. He is 31 but acts like a teenager, has a wonderful job of immitating Gus Abelgas and renz Verano and baptized himself as the president of Kappans (Kawatan ug Panty) with two other trainees who seem to be clueless all the time as his subordinates.
Then I have thsi basketball player of a trainee who towers the height of 6'1 and is effing good at cartooning, he can immitate any artwork he likes using only Paint. Very talented.
And who would ever miss A; the noise increases in decibels when he speaks. I sometimes think that because of drug abuse in the past, he has done so much damage on his brain cells that it actually has a "genius effect" on him. YOu see, he's the fastest guy in class. He'd ask very logical questions and would always think outside the box. Now am beginning to wonder, what effects those pills I took has on me.
And yes, the last but definitely not the least. P, who never cease to stun if not amuse the class with his words of wisdom. Take this instance for example when we were taling about life and problems. He blurted, "Dont think about your problems because the problem will fix itself!" And the class just went wild. He would tell us about how he lived a reckless life in the past. Hes jaunts of pot sessions and everything else. To some people, he will always be misunderstood but to the class, he remains to be that wonder kid who makes us laugh to the bones every 3pm. In one of our random conversations with the class, he said, "No, men are born monopolous!" He wanted to give his argument when I said "men by nature are born polygamous!" When asked what he was thinking when he used the word "monopolous" he said he was thinking of the game Monopoly. Waaaaaaa. He can think of random words he created like "spontinuality" and what not. He has this candid way of making the whole class just burst into laughter but in all fairness to him, he'd also ask convergent and divergent questions. A walking contradiction.
Well, I had fun while it lasted. You see, starting today, I'm off to the night shift again so I turned them over to my favorite Coach of all time, Gracie. :) I know they'll be in good hands. I will miss them. I will miss smiling so early in the morning, I think my gums would just jump off from my mouth.
In life, we meet a lot of people. They will leave footprints and we are never the same. :)
Big Sad
The author whose tales of adolescent angst and family dysnfunction that captured generations died last Wednesday, at 91. I remember vividly how at a very young age of 8, I grieved and pictured young Holden Caufield's quest to outrun the world in J.D Salinger's book, "The Catcher in the Rye."
Farewell, my favorite author. Someday, I'll bump into you and discuss how phony the world can become... Rest in peace.
Farewell, my favorite author. Someday, I'll bump into you and discuss how phony the world can become... Rest in peace.
Inked Again!
They say I am the most self - obsssessed individual 0n the face of the planet. Truth be told, I am more than that. I am, in fact, a freak who thrives in chaos and self - inflicted pain. So your lola got another tattoo last night. The wheezing of the tatt machine seemed like music to my ears, (twas so melodious) and the pain the needle caused my listless pulp was immeasurable but yes, very rewarding. Hehe.
Where it all began - stencil and outlining:
And it ended looking like this:
Anyone of you interested in making that skin bleed and inked, holler at me. My artist is good and he doesnt charge much. :)
Where?
Love is. I don’t know, That seems to be the best definition I could make off when somebody dumped me. Dumped? What a very straightforward word, maybe that was all there is when a lover brings it straight to your heart; that things are not working anymore and you should forget me, or say, stop this relationship. ‘Love is’ because you can’t recall that such feeling exists in a moment when right here, right now, You just can’t say farewell to sadness. But you have to. It is the ability of inability. It’s like singing goodbye yesterday…. (with fingers crossed stubbornly, ha!). Say, if a lover brings it straight to your heart…wait, Where is the heart anyway? I believe you can locate that by not pointing at your head too often and carefully pointing at your chest with denial. I’m not really sure.
I care not dwell on the details, but all you people probably know how it feels when the thing called love leaves you when you got too much to give on the line. I have loved. I would like to believe I gave something more than myself. I know it’s a line you hear much from movies, but hey, they come to life sometimes and I’m the leading actor. It is true that a scorned lover comes into different phases of recovery. Most of us can relate to this because we all are human, generic, unique, and relative.
Who amongst you disagree, please throw a boulder at me! ---Ouch, oh, let’s add uniquely relative to that.
I myself sought refuge in my strength, in books, in everything the world has to offer. I invented ways of rationalizing what happened to me. Aside from my mentor-friend who showed me the wonderfully bitter world of existentialism, I met new friends on my way to the so-called recovery. Kafka, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Kundera, Neruda, blah blah…they were there. I met them; they showed me how ‘scientifically romantic’ literature was when seen from a gloomy point of view. It was all revealing, and at the same time, excruciating. They taught me well, even Karen Kunawicz has something to say about a broken heart: only you can hear it. Kahlil Gibran on the other hand preached, ‘Love is self-chosen’, and I couldn’t stop myself from approving violently. ‘The body makes a promise when you make love’ says that movie Vanilla Sky, but sometimes, we have to break some. Funny, but I was happy to rediscover these things that sounded stale when I was in my pleased moments. I’m happy but I wasn’t smiling, I thought I had it all under control and suddenly Eros kicked me in the butt for not listening well.
See, I’ve known these friends, and they all exist in my head that I can readily point at and testify that we have come to an intellectual conclusion. But that was me talking; no one among them, not even my dearest Sartre assured me that an Einstein on love could bring you to the promise land of healing. You can only rationalize too much but in the end, it is your inevitable call. I had no choice, or I did have the choice to be with my real friends. I spent the rest of my time going out, like what we all do. One has to come out from the broken shell and hope to get even. Call that depression, better defined as not forgetting you’re sad. But I have to forget, rocking a chair won’t bring me anywhere. This may be patronizing but I have come to a point of realization to tell this. I somehow managed to get up that chair. Nobody said it was easy.
I ask you one question:
What do you call that time in the middle of the night when all your hopes are depleted, your body is wasted from too much booze, when you have puked everything aside from your soul, when everything has been said and fearlessly done, and you just want to stop thinking?
If you’ll ask me, I call that Tomorrow. When you wake up the following day, it’s something different. It can be more, or likely less painful, but at least different. That’s one inch closer to the promise land I was talking about.
Adios.
Now, where is the heart? You got a lot of pointing to do.
Mocking the Sun
A friend once said, "There’s something about powder blue waters and talcum sands that makes one miss kindred spirits. My friend Bill, is having a grand time in Thailand. I’m here in Cebu, trying to enjoy workign everyday – to soak my weary head in hopeless contemplation. Ah, but there’s a consolation! I get to miss a kindred spirit minus the refreshing blue and briny bottom! How crafty is that?
If only you were here, dear confidant... Maybe you could again, give me a piece of your much needed psychoanalyses. Alas, I would have to fathom this disturbing thought all by myself.
My palate for friendship is beginning to sour with every turning of the tide. Why does everything have to get so complicated? Here you go, basking in quiet conversations, little quips and quirks; and then someone has to blow it just because he thinks friendships offer too narrow possibilities. This is what you get from someone you’ve confided to, Someone you’re supposed to have trusted your life-story, heartaches and secret admiration. Some friendship!
You don’t have the right to tell me what can make me happy! Do I look like I’m in so much need of caring that you have to shove it in front of me, that you have to ask me the whys all the time? I don't expect everyone to understand nor be happy for me. Just don't add salt to the wound. I’m tired of this. Get a life! I’m not the one you’re looking for – the next girl available.
Don’t ever assume when your presumptions are wrong in the first place. You never saw me smile when there was nothing to smile about so stop bombarding me with things I don’t need!
A Note To Self!
Dear Self,
Since when have you learned not to really sleep at all?
How long will you give in to the demands of that freakin job and come to the office despite the fact that it's your rest day?
How will you find time to relax and manage to leave the world and it's cruelties when all you do is work?
Girl, you seriously need rest!Go get some, will you?
You make me worry.
Sinulog!
My head was starting to swirl from all the booze I drank. The blinking lights and cigarette smoke caused my face to cringe and my eyes to burn. The Sinulog night is the best here in Cebu.You get to meet different kinds of people. Cute guys with attitude; weirdos and their mohawks; human pin cushions and their pierced bodies; and if you’re lucky, you can even get a glimpse of hot celebrities in the party scene. Yes, people are always like that during Sinulog. Of course it depends on whether you were able to fold a Ninoy Aquino inside the hidden pocket of your wallet to keep from spending it. You see a lot of teenagers yanking their soul out of their bodies. Corporate people used to the fast - paced life, settle for a momentary pleasure with friends on a night of booze revelry. They consider this as treating themselves after a long day of mind-frying. Party time may last from midnight to the crack of dawn. What the heck, this only happens once every year - people gather altogether to celebrate to one beat. But for sure, a night in Sinulog is never at a loss for the unexpected.
I recall one time, I was dancing my stuff in one bar I frequently go to, two Sinulogs ago. I almost thought that I’d go home without a story to tell. Just then, two gays started shouting and raving to the music. One climbed on top of a seat and the other stood in front, below the former. They started extending their hands and swaying to opposite directions, like spiders playing patintero with their prey. “Play our music!”, they shrieked, like harpies, their tongues flailing out their mouths; almost as if trying to taste the raw atmosphere of smoke, booze, and sweat. I check the arena, turning three hundred sixty degrees, with an almost infinite slowness. Every face I see is different. Every movement, saturated with life. Every soul inside the night coven, bursting with a story to share.
Take "Silingan", for example. I call her that because she once lived a block from my place and we were classmates in two subjects when I was still in school. I don’t really know her to the core, but I see her every time I go to Mango during Sinulog; almost as if she lived here. This was her kingdom and she was queen every night she danced. The ledge was her throne; every gyrate of her hips, a commandment; and every other person inside the dark den, her subject. Some say she was no longer studying. I then come into deep contemplation. Did her parents know this? I swiftly erase the thought from my mind. This should not be part of my reverie.
I sway around, catching a nanosecond-smile from M. This, on the other hand, was a guy who was there, not to drown his burden in ale, but to scope the place, looking for his latest victim; like the vampire, Lestat. For those who are not familiar with Anne Rice’s most famous character, the latter is a blood-sucking romeo who prefers victims who deserve to be victims. The more dirt, the better. Pero syempre, mas nindot kung palaban! That was how M liked it.
And there's this gwapo na waiter I met, in one of my bar adventures. Quiet, but friendly, patience was already evident, the second I saw the sweat from his brow. He was working his way to college. Eskwela sa buntag, trabaho sa gabii. Kinda’ like makes you feel all guilty inside. But then, all these faces form a part of me that make up what we coin as, human. I am "Silingan", when I try to cover my melancholy with a life evident with happiness. I am M, when I try to feel good about myself by toiling with the emotions of those I consider my inferiors. I am "waiter", when I try to make up for what life cannot readily offer me. I am each of these three and a million others. But most of all, I am Sinulog --- full of life; bleak sometimes, but always full of hope.
I felt my head wanting to explode; thoughts turning redundant. I had too much to drink. It’s time to head home.
Anjo
He always had this wonderful smile on his face. He never misses class and I can sense that he was always determined to pass the exams with flying colors. He was the type of kid who was born with a silver platter on his table but no, he never showed or brushed of arrogance. The owner of Cebu Beach Club, he remained to be that down to earth kid you can always "bully" around. He surprised me when he introduced himself as a registered nurse. He said he never wanted to practice his proffession in the first place. He held the world on the palm of his hands yet he remained to be that sweet and caring kid among others.
One day, he got too exhausted with work and decided to just quit. I respected his decision and said that he had to find his niche in this life - even outside our workplace; away from the 19 others who have grown to love and adored his company and presence. So why am I writing about him? He shot me one sweet message that touched me big time. It read:
"Ann, I just want to thank you for everything and for being one of the best teachers I've met. Friends gihapon ta ha? I'm deciding to resign and look for a day time job. You've been really great and hope you don't change. Maka influence jud ka in the way you teach."
The message just got me smiling. :) You see, I may know more about the product that I'm teaching but these people surely taught me so many things that'll give me so much the advantage in the world to come.
To you dear, Anjo, continue hitching your wagons to the stars, in search for greater heights. Someday, we'll cross each other's path and talk as usual over beer and life's tiny trinkets in wonder.
Holidays '09
So how did your lola spent the holidays? Well, Christmas was celebrated in Moalboal while I welcomed the New Year with a bang a'traipsing Cebu and it's majestic corners (okay, that's exaggeration!) Snippets of the maddening events are below:
Took a dip in the pristine waters of Moalboal with men. Yes, I was swimming with men!
Learned how to skimboard to say the least (okay, I just coerced some native to let me borrow the board for posterity purposes =)
Slept with a man and a not so man in a tent
doodled Merry Christmas on the shore and posed with again - MEN!
basked in the mid day sun...
laughter and random topics with one of my bestfriends, Kem!
grinned like a mad woman with friends...
ransacked yet again another bestfriend's house (thanks Jake!) at 2am for some post Medya Noche.. (yum...yum..)
New Year's Day swimming at Kem's place... :)
Took a dip in the pristine waters of Moalboal with men. Yes, I was swimming with men!
Learned how to skimboard to say the least (okay, I just coerced some native to let me borrow the board for posterity purposes =)
Slept with a man and a not so man in a tent
doodled Merry Christmas on the shore and posed with again - MEN!
basked in the mid day sun...
laughter and random topics with one of my bestfriends, Kem!
grinned like a mad woman with friends...
ransacked yet again another bestfriend's house (thanks Jake!) at 2am for some post Medya Noche.. (yum...yum..)
New Year's Day swimming at Kem's place... :)What about you guys? What did you do when hell break loose on Christmas and New Year? I bet you enjoyed it as much as I did. =)
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