"Do I dare disturb the universe?"

Clarity

2008-11-02T13:38:00.003+08:00

My future has never been more crystal clear. Unlike the past years, I've been thinking and wracking up my brain just to experience that speck of clarity. I don't know what I am talking about but it's just that I want to have a conviction. A conviction to do something without paying heed to its presented hindrances. It was so easy before I entered college, with me saying to myself, "I'll be a great doctor someday!" But now everything seems to be reversed. Here I am cursing and trying to get out from the logical process of going into a white collar job. Here I am in the bottom of the academic food chain. Here I am, naked, in full delusion of a conviction. And yet there is still that voice that says go on. A voice that keeps me from quitting. A voice that says you're meant for this.

Never has my future been more clear. And I stand up saying I will go on. And I will never quit. I shall love my profession and endow and partake in its inherent dignity and responsibility.

Bow.

Ta Dah!

2008-10-06T19:17:00.001+08:00

Whoever said Grad School is the easy way out should die!

Now, it's time I turn my attention to just 4 research papers I have to pass before I read for two major exams.

Sigh, I'm tired.

And, not so surprisingly,

I love this!

Sublime

2008-08-24T22:46:00.002+08:00

Call me a nut, a fanatic, a zealot, a bigot, a radical. I really don't care. I can't keep this from myself anymore. For days and days, I spent all of my internet time just visiting this particular site. Over and over again, I would watch this video. This video and me, alone. Be it in my dorm, or at my house. I can't stop from spending an hour or so just watching and listening to this video alone. What can I say? It's pure, unadulterated beauty. Unaffected by the tides of the current generation. Sublime truth embedded in sublime tradition.

What am I talking about? I'm talking about a current craze. Not the badly addictive types but the one that brings peace of mind whenever I have the opportunity to encounter it. I'm talking about Gregorian Chants. Not those awful Gregorian-renditions of popular songs, but the authentic and true-blue Gregorian Chant. The one that for over a thousand years has been a gem in the musical heritage of our Church. The one that commands great respect whenever one hears it. And to some and to a degree I dutifully agree, is a "mystical" language. Now, I've heard that Latin is one of the few languages that actually evokes a sense of sanctity, a reverence, when it is heard or spoken. I don't know much about the linguistics of this particular language but this is a language I would rather learn and spend my time with (rather than, say, Spanish!).

So, out of interest and out of faith, I've memorized The Lord's Prayer and Anima Christi in Latin.

The Lord's Prayer

Pater noster, qui es in caelis

sanctificetur nomen tuum

adveniat regnum tuum

fiat voluntas tua

sicut in caelo et in terra

panem nostrum

quotidianum da nobis hodie

et dimitte nobis debita nostra

sicut et nos dimittimus

debitoribus nostris

et ne nos inducas

in tentationem

sed libera nos a malo.

Amen.

Anima Christi

Anima Christi, sanctifica me

Corpus Christi, salva me

Sanguis Christi, inebria me

Aqua lateris Christi, lava me

Passio Christi, conforta me

O bone Jesu, exaudi me

Intra tua vulnera absconde me

Ne permittas me separari a te

Ab hoste maligno defende me

In hora mortis meae, voca me

Et iube me, venire ad te

Ut cum Sanctis Tuis laudem te

In saecula saeculorum

Amen.

(I've just typed them from memory, so if there's anything wrong just PM me).

Now, it's time I let the music speak for itself:

I Wish It Was Chocolate

2008-08-18T22:49:00.002+08:00

Gah! I know I should be finishing my slideshow now but I can't even start typing up a single entry. My report is supposed to be easy. In fact, the lighter one it's been called. Oh, they could never be more wrong!

I will be giving a talk tomorrow on a completely foreign subject: Infertility and In Vitro Fertilization. This will be a monthly project for my ReproPhysio subject. In fact, it will be one of the major requirements for the course.

Yep, I know there's a lot of stuff out in the internet. Hey, I spent all week scrounging around Google! But that's precisely the problem. There's too many stuff. It's information overload! I've been wracking my brains trying to decide what website I will include (my professors are quite touchy about our sources, mind you). Should I just rely on Wikipedia? Or should I rely instead on those mind blowing articles?

Case in point: I've just read a 10-page article regarding the early history of in vitro fertilization. It started okay at first and when I finished the section about the attempts on improving protocols in in vitro fertilization, the author suddenly delved into sperm capacitation and to make matters worst, decided on a comparative analysis of all known experiments of IVF in all classes of animals. I just wasted ink. I thought this was a definitive article on IVF's history and all I get is just a slice of the bigger pie.

Professional bias. So true. And now, back to Keynote.

Premonitions

2008-08-18T00:18:00.002+08:00

Weird dream last night. I was back at UST. Facing the same old tired faces. The same old hardships. The same old situations. Climbing the same old steep stairs. Only difference is, I am happy. And I was wearing a "white uniform."

Now what could that mean?

On a lighter note, I got more offers the past few weeks: two research assistantships. Although it sounds quite appealing, being an RA means going to all parts of the PI collecting God-knows how many species of fishes. And the fact that I only have to get the minimum number of units per sem. If I agree, instead of finishing 2 years, I have to extend it to 4.

Anyway, I've already informed quite a few important acquaintances that I shall be leaving for med school right after obtaining my MS at UPLB. I'm thinking of applying to UST, UE and maybe, if the fates allow, at UP Manila (I heard they have an MD Ph.D. there, only at Public Health, though).

I'm quite excited really at the prospect of Med School but right now I intend to just enjoy my time at UPLB. I'm now emotionally attached to that place right there. Truly, I can call it home away from home.

Intoxicated

2008-08-03T16:23:00.000+08:00

(Haha...)

Leo (July 23 - August 22)

Someone you always thought was very introverted is going to prove you wrong today, when they explode out of their shell and cook up an exciting party plan. Find out how you can hop on board this party express! Things are changing in their life in exciting ways, and you couldn't be happier for them. Don't be surprised if they reveal to you in a quiet moment that you were the inspiration for much of their growth. Try to pretend that you never suspected it.

Nota Bene

2008-07-28T20:54:00.002+08:00

Whew, I need a breather. The tests last week were just....argh...I don't know! Damn it! I studied all week, stayed up late, and drank a liter worth of instant coffee. When the tests were handed out, I almost fainted! But it's weird, I feel irritated and entertained. For some reason, I'm finding everything that's gone the past week laughable. Pathological? Nah, I'm just weird.

So anyway, since the tests of the major subjects are now finished, I guess I already have the right to "evaluate" my first two months at Los Banos.

Here are a few things I've learned:

Take notes. Always take notes since most classes don't prescribe a single textbook. Your notes and your prof''s lecture will serve as synthesis of all recommended readings, so if you don't want to digest 450-pages of font-10 textbooks, you'd better start jotting down your prof's lecture.

Make friends. Not only with your classmates, but with your profs as well. In my case, being in the MS program, it's highly essential to know the who's who in the faculty (if you're into research, you know what "who's who" means). Make friends too with the staff. During application and enrollment period, the GS people were more than happy to accommodate and assist me: from getting to and fro inside the campus, to what should I expect during my stay there. They were nice, as in first-name-basis nice, unlike some in the registrar at UST: they look, talk and act as if they don't want to do anything with the students. Some even have the temerity to shout at a student! (one reason why I was so happy to get away from there).

Take control. Since I'm not an undergrad anymore, I have a say to what goes on in my schedule or in my studies. Taking control means being able to do what you want as long as it's reasonable. Taking control means being a professional.

Be reasonable. This is a must especially if one's about to undertake a master's thesis. Remember, aside from making a significant research, a master's student should be able to finish his/her degree just in time. The less time you obtain your degree, the better (esp. the scholars!)

Never say die. A lesson in life I've personally experienced even before my 2 month stay at UPLB. There is always hope. Although failure means blaming yourself, failure will just be another stepping stone towards your future.

So much is going through my mind, I can't find the words that would really give meaning to what I want to express. What I want others to feel. But that's inspiration for you, just when you had a spark, you suddenly find yourself without the tools of your trades.

Cheers. I'll see some of you on Aug. 2. (If you don't know, just text me.)

Undergrad

2008-07-15T22:01:00.002+08:00

I effing feel like an undergrad. My head is still in a whirl after reading the first 2o pages of the 150-page Endocrinology handouts for my Repro Physio subject. But wow...haha...I know it's nerdy but I just find it funny and fulfilling to be doing this thing again. Although I hate the coming "tides," I shall welcome with open arms the sleepless nights and the staying-up-late. What I didn't do during my undergrad, I'll make sure I'll do during my graduate years like, say, studying! Also, it feels like it's going to be a lot easier because I only rely on books for secondary info, lecture notes are still the vital materials for reviewing stuff. But, gosh, reading 3 books and a 150-page handout for an essay test worth 25 points... soon enough, I'll be pointing a gun at my temple!

But I know hope is somewhere out there. So I'll pray, hope and study! My personal mantra for this semester. I have to do well this year especially with my upcoming scholarship application. I hope I'll be able to acquire a sense of competitiveness or, at least, the drive to do well in school.

Oh, did I mention memorizing stuff is not enough? Haha.

Cheers man! Peace! I'll see some of you on Friday....again! Oh, and we won't drink. We SHOULDN'T drink. I need to study (was that me?).

Acquiring Wisdom

2008-07-07T00:12:00.002+08:00

The Guest House

This being human is a guest hose.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

Written by Jalal al-Din Rumi

(Translated by Coleman Barks)

A Sense of Contentment

2008-07-06T02:11:00.000+08:00

The very idea of returning to UST now terrifies me. But at the same time I just want to be there. Every week I spent at UPLB makes me crave more to just go to the HS Benches and stare for hours and hours and hours on end. When I am already there, I just wish I could teleport immediately to the comforts of my very small dorm room at UP.

I just wish when I'm at UST someone would just come up and ask me how I am. Even if the relationship is as distant as the distance covering UST to UPLB, I'll be a lot friendlier than the time I've been inside the Pontifical university. In fact, a whole lot nicer. In fact, a whole new me.

Yeh, people pointed out to me that the whole point of me going back to my roots is just schadenfreude but I keep telling myself it's not. Not at all. Just a fancy of seeing a familiar face is the only reason I keep going back to Espana at all. Yes, even the sight of the people I have a sour relationship with will give me a smile on my tired, old face.

Now that I have a lot of free time, I am able to reach through my repressions and start dealing with them. My issues are no longer the bane of my life. Like I said, a whole new me will face the people that I have conflicting beliefs with. So I guess it's time to ask for an apology.

I'm sorry. To all of the people I have been very difficult with, I can only give a most sincere apology from a too-tattered soul. If you don't believe me this time, it's only right because I know I've been pretentious with all of you. I've been, in fact, evil in my dealings. I acknowledge the pride that goes in and out of my system, a pride that gave rise to too much emotional damage. A pride that destroyed a friendship I could've treasured.

Now, I feel truly free. Yep, there's a 99.9% chance that some of the people to whom the above apology is addressed won't be able to read this entry, however, I'm still hoping and, yes, praying.

Soon, I'll be able to convince myself that it's time to let go of the past and start rebuilding from the debris. I'll finally be able to wake up in the morning with no dark thing staining my heart. No envy, pride, anger or any form of malice shall corrupt me. Ah, I can't wait for that time.

You may say that I'm just pretending to like UPLB. Nope, I'm not. As I said, I love it there. I was given the chance for self-fulfillment, I will never lose that chance again, ever.

I've merely pointed the fact that I'm not welcome anymore at my old school. That, I acknowledge though it pains me. There will come a time when the old, the familiar, the common will become even more stranger than the new things one will encounter in the future. But if one can't help it....

I have a lot to get out of my system. Now, one by one, they're beginning to drain from my body and soul, and the process is just as bad as when feeding them inside. Like a smoker trying to quit. The withdrawal symptoms just keep exacerbating everything: anger, depression, denial. But there will be that one point when everything has to come out. And I think I'm nearly there. I'm already at the acceptance part.

So, that's that.

A Sense of Fulfillment

2008-07-01T18:04:00.003+08:00

(Warning: Nerdy talk)

I'm beginning to like UPLB. Yup, that's the truth. I love it here. I really love it here. For the very first time in my life, I'm beginning to have a sense of fulfillment. Finally, I have something to look forward in the future.

At first I thought I'll just be treating my MS as a scapegoat from the inescapable fact of life of a BS Biology graduate. Just because I am does not mean I have to take up medicine. Before, I was desperate of escaping that, and I'm also aware of the dangers of taking the alternatives.

And then, at some point, I said to myself, what the hell! I'll take up an MS and I'll be proud of it! And that I am. I have never been happy during my undergrad years. But now is compensating for all that I lost. I have good friends, I have good teachers. And most importantly, I make use of my previous education.

And I also acquired a new point of view. Having been raised in a household where white-collar jobs are revered, I used to believe that being a doctor means being the most successful person, the most powerful, and most importantly, the most respected. But now, professors are my heroes. That sounds corny and almost ass-kiss-like. But, again, that's the simple truth. I can't help but be impressed by the people I now call my superiors: they're diligent and they're intelligent. In fact, these PhD holders are as good as any MD. Some, in fact, are even better than most of MDs I have met over the past years. (I keep thinking about what my professor said the other day, he was resenting the fact that he can't teach at a college of medicine despite having taken more units in both human and animal physiology and possessing a post-doctoral degree in Pharmacology). Anyway, I know some people will be offended but we all have our prejudices.

Peace!

Mis-Informed?

2008-06-15T23:56:00.002+08:00

Hi guys. I won't be blogging for a certain amount of time because it's already the start of a new life at UPLB. Please pray for me to get through any difficulties I will encounter. Oh, and also for my safety. Those who would like to still keep in touch just text me 09175377730. We'll have a party!

Honesty that Permeates the Skin

2008-06-12T18:56:00.003+08:00

Well guys, I guess this is it. There's no turning back. 5 days before I'm really gone. I'm worried. To be honest, I kind of envy my former classmates: For the whole of my life I have always envisioned myself wearing the trademark white uniform of soon-to-be doctors. But I guess now is not yet the time. Some other time, I might be able to make something of myself and be able to live my dreams. So that's that. For now.

Wow. I never expected to have so much friends since that. I thought I'll never rise from the ashes. I guess St. Augustine was right in making a ladder out of our vices. Anyway, I'm so much thankful to my high school friends. All of you are really the best!

Oh, and another personal promise must be mentioned. If I receive no gratification in any form by whatever means possible, I guess there's nothing left to do but forget you. I hope you know who you are.

So Far Away

2008-06-08T20:50:00.002+08:00

Wow. I'm going crazy!

I am in a deep predicament. When I received the phone call from UST Grad School, I was greatly surprised! I never thought this would happen due to the fact that I delayed my application. But anyway, I am still a little bit shocked! In a sense that it has put everything in another perspective. It has presented to me some indefinite possibilities. Oh alright! A new possibility that, finally, does not border on vengeance. In fact I would like to see that it's a chance to redeem myself. But I don't think I'll take fate up on that. I'm already registered at UPLB. Ditching everything in there will be a disappointment to the people that helped me get accepted at the Grad School. Not to mention a great dishonor to them. So maybe I'll have this self-redeeming phase some other time.

Twilight

2008-06-05T21:17:00.003+08:00

New Addiction. Because nothing new or exciting ever comes into my life I need another Harry Potter. Without something like that...well...I don't know how I'll ever exist.

Must ....

Read ....

New Moon.

Sheesh! I don't know why I like reading Stephanie Meyer's books. The series has all of my very unfavorite themes: vampires and a sappy love story. Every 10 pages or so my eyes roll.

I'm an idiot.

Headache

2008-06-02T22:23:00.002+08:00

Ouch. I think my high blood condition is revving up again. And this time it might be serious. Well, I can blame the roasted chicken and that oh-so sinfully tasty juice. I get hungry just trying to picture out me spreading the skin, the oil and the juice all over the fluffy rice. Seriously, I am in considerable pain but nothing a good dose of paracetamol and some amateurish yoga exercises can't cure.

Actually, I feel a whole lot better now. And I think it's because of some yoga stances I tried from the "Let's Yoga" on the DS. And with that, it just made me convinced to try a yoga class at Makati instead of splurging out PHP 2,500 worth of slide films. Hey, 1,5k is still manageable (haha!).

Gearing Up

2008-06-01T14:37:00.002+08:00

With only two weeks before I move to UPLB, I still have much to do: prepare, pack, buy.

For instance, I haven't bought a standard set of clothes like polo shirts, some jeans and a pair of shoe that I'll use when going to class. I know there's no dress code at the Graduate School but I want to look nice. For a change. At least, look like a professional har har.

Also, I still have to buy some minor appliances like a coffee maker, water dispenser and, hopefully, a heater. Oh, I forgot, the mattress and the sheets!

Now, when I get to UPLB I plan to take with me at least 5 rolls of 120 color films and 5 rolls of B/W. So when I get there I won't be bored out of mind.

All that's left to do...is scrounge and haggle up for the money hehe.

Skinned!

2008-05-31T13:12:00.003+08:00

Shit. It's sale in Glorietta and the Lacoste store has a few bags for sale. Argh! I don't have any money right now. Sheesh!

Anyway, I'm on my way to Team Manila store to buy some accessories for my Holga. That doesn't qualify as panacea but I guess it'll have to do.

'Bye all.

Anxiety and Addiction Kill Us All

2008-05-31T00:02:00.002+08:00

Today, I am proud to say that I will no longer darken the hallowed steps of my dear alma mater. It's official: I'm going to UPLB. Nobody can stop me now, yup, even if my mom wants me to stay at UST, well, I won't be persuaded by a matter-of-life lectures. This time I'm taking command of the ship.

But 8 years! The longest period I've ever spent in my whole life was in UST: I've loved, I've lived and laughed there. Like old TV reruns, good memories pop up so unexpectedly, so suddenly. And now I'm leaving it.

Of course there is always that initial excitement. The kind of excitement that will always be crushed once we are faced with the paroxysm of reality. But life's not perfect, so I guess I have to live through the imperfections--and learn to love it. What the heck, I've been doing that for more than 8 years now, anyway, 4 more won't matter very much.

Along with the initial excitement comes the age-old anxiety attack. I call this as such because I'm always troubled by my expectations of the future. Some where in my mind, there is always that cynical voice that tells me misfortunes happen and, sooner or later, will happen to me. But with that "cynical voice" comes a degree of apathy. Actually, it'd be suitable if I call it a hedonistic flair: just something that says to ride the waves and not to be mindful of every fall.

But there's something very much different from that anxiety attack I've experienced 4 years ago. Before, I was a bit reckless in dealing with things, but now, glad to say I've prepped up for the coming tides. And in this way, the very memories that I resented up until now become valuable life-experience teachers. I guess I've got something to thank my enemies for.

Right now, something I've grasped has bothered me. I won't divulge for fear of it becoming known in some "conservative and traditional circles." But I reached a conclusion for doing that questionable "daily constitution": I'm lonely. And I tend to immerse myself in some problem of schizophrenic and obsessive-compulsive nature. But really, I think I'm making these things up. So now, it has to stop. And maybe that "daily constitution" will cease, someday.

It's time for a change, no?

Times are Changing

2008-05-27T21:38:00.003+08:00

I find these two poems perfectly apt for the times:

On Children by Kahlil Gibran

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let our bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

Parents should always be reminded of Gibran's words. They should not condescend to their children and use experience as a raison d'être for every wrong thing they see in their children. Likewise, this poem should be able to tell parents not to expect too much from their child. Just as they are mere humans, so is their young-- human, capable of committing errors and making wrong choices (not that I'm in a rut right now!).

One can get so angry at people they love!

The other poem is:

The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

This poem's for all the people who tried to dissuade me from pursing a career other than an MD. Stop running my life for me!

Goodbye?

2008-05-18T22:42:00.003+08:00

Well, if tomorrow goes smoothly, it might be my last day ever to walk on UST's ground.

Frankly, I don't feel the emotions that usually accompany the ending of a life's chapter. Be that as it may, I'm going to have a shot at re-creation. I'll be able to renew my image, my personality, in fact, everything about me, must change.

But I do feel sad that I'm not going to see my friends anymore. I won't be able to harass Buen, Girlie, Chenyl, Nicole, and, of course, Betz. Whenever I come to the realization that I'm going to UPLB, I keep suppressing the thoughts of making friends again, of making new acquaintances. Whatever, what's going to pass must pass anyway.

Since I've reached a denouement in my life story, maybe I can finally accept the thoughts of forgiveness. At first, I was a bit stubborn, fearing that to give in to forgiveness is to let everything pass as if it was alright between Them and me (can't say friends anymore so I'm going to use "Them" instead). But as one principal actor in the play texted me, it is really time for a new beginning. Yeah, I'm a wee bit ambivalent with rebuilding things between Them but that doesn't mean I'm not open to any reconciliation whatsoever. I don't know if I make any sense at all, but that's, as of the moment, all my mind and heart can muster (cheesy, right?).

As one quote goes:

Forgive your enemies, but never forget their names (JFK).

To say the least, I miss Them. I miss the bonding, the drinking bouts, in fact, everything. But I'm too scarred, and I easily brood on the slightest hint of memories that should be forgotten. But in spite of all that happened, I can say I was a most loyal friend. It's not my place to point out everything I've done to them. But there you go.

Anyway, I miss most my Bencher friends. Now with them, "Them" can't do anything. I can easily block my mind whenever I'm with them. If given the chance to choose between the two of them, with "Them" promising a new beginning and the Benchers offering nothing but their truth, it's no contest. I'll choose the Benchers anytime.

Maybe, it's the end. Yes, I'm going on in circles, but anxiety of things to come have inhabited my body, and my mind is too weak to handle it. It effects the "remembrance of things past" forcibly: of truths that were hidden under the guise of manliness, of the sincerity that was hidden under the bush of looking tough, of the happiness suppressed by the horrors of responsibility. It forces me to make a list of things I shouldn't have done. And for the benefit of those people concern who actually read my rants, I'm going to list the few things that I've done that now I've wholeheartedly regret:

Making college friends. In retrospect, if I remained the taciturn oddball in our class, I wouldn't be writing these now. About 3 years ago, I was the only one in class who's not making any efforts to make friends. They think of me as a stuck-up snob. Now, I realize, if I remain that way, I could've been friendlier to everyone and still have distance. I wouldn't be involve in any trouble of intimacy--be it romantic or platonic.

Having chosen a clique. In what should have been left in high school continued all the way up to our college class. If I hadn't chosen any group at all, I would've felt more secured and I wouldn't have been doing things that I am doing now (I can't publicly disclose it--smirks mischievously--but if you know me, you probably know what that is).

Going to the retreat. Ugh! If I could turn back time, I wouldn't have come to the retreat. It gave me a false sense of security! It just didn't work out for me okay? I shouldn't have changed things you know? I could've remained silent but thanks to the urging of "Them" decided to patch things up with the people I disagree (emphasis on the present tense!).

And the list goes on. I feel so energized and yet so angry. As if my heart's ready to burst. But I guess this is my therapy.

Goodbye for now.

Into the Wild

2008-05-10T20:08:00.002+08:00

Wow. It's such a great movie. Somewhat tragic but definitely one of the best films I've ever watched. I don't know about some other people, but I truly empathize with Emile Hirsch's character, Chris McCandless. It's like waking something in me again. Now, Chris journeyed with meager supplies, taking a few odd jobs to meet a few ends meet, then culminates in the Alaskan wilderness. He left because of his parents: their constant fights and the discovery of a truth about their Father having another family. In both ways, his disappearance made the relationship between his mother and father a whole lot better, but sadly, he was not able to experience that new thing; and he gets to undertake an "aesthetic" voyage.

Now, as I was watching the DVD, one gets to recognize a few elements that it will end in tragedy. During the whole duration of the movie, I imagined what it would be like at the movie's ending--first, naive I was, I thought everything is going to be all right; and finally, once can't help imagine his adapting himself again to a society which he shunned, or to put it more properly, how will he live his life. The mind wanders, sigh.

Sadly, it is a tragedy that he died. And I guess it's part of the aesthetics of the film. If it ended in what most people expect, Sean Penn's masterpiece wouldn't be one at all. It'll be just another run of the mill adventure movie.

It's tearing my heart: his dying moments when he grasped that happiness is real when it is shared, his acceptance of his death (this is when he wrote: "I have had a good life and thank the Lord. Goodbye and may God bless you all."), his vision of meeting again his parents. I've had tears welling up in my eyes.

Anyway, Emile Hirsch's just a great actor. His being an actor can't be appreciated in Speed Racer (which just opened two days ago) so I highly recommend this movie if you want to see his full acting prowess. He is so convincing in playing a troubled man that if ever J.D. Salinger finally agreed to have Catcher in the Rye made into a movie, Hirsch should play Holden Caulfield. He'll play the part perfectly.

So, go on watch this movie now. Geez, I haven't raved a movie like this since after watching Akira Kurosawa's Dreams.

'Bye all.

Muy Excitado

2008-05-06T19:54:00.003+08:00

So about yesterday. The happenings before made me sleep a little less and me worry about the future a great deal more. But I really can't stay down in the dumps. I've a life to live. Then, imagine when an e-mail informed you that not only you were accepted at one of the best schools in the PI but your adviser will be one of the most respected in her fields....

When I received that e-mail I was in a state of heavenly bliss. Har har har.

But what made me more happy is the prospect of a new life. Sure, I know it'll be harder. But this is what I want. What I wanted all along. All along, I've known what's in store for me: someday, I'll go far away, far from my family. Sure, my family are far from perfect but they're all I have and I love them. Living 2 hours away from Manila will present more challenges.

Then again, I'll be far away from my past. Finally, I can ignore it and maybe it'll stop haunting me.

Oh, I remember something, yesterday, I was at UST. I just can't believe that, as I was walking the paths leading to my old college building, I'm finally free. It sounds cheesy, yes, but it's what I've felt. And it's what I've been longing for since March. And God gave me a chance.

I will never lose this chance. I'll start a new life. Although I admit old habits die hard (hehehe), but I'm going to give my best, my all. I'm going to make something of myself. I'll prove them wrong.

WTF?

2008-05-05T20:28:00.002+08:00

Well, how shall I put it? Hmm. First, just this morning I was in a very good mood. Having been informed by the UPLB Graduate School that I was admitted to their Master's program, I can't help but be in a good mood. In and out of me, I was smiling! But awhile later, this cheerful mood was treaded upon by the most dreadful news one can ever receive: death. So there I was, ready to set out to UST when my mom received a call from my ninang. My dad's cousin (ergo, my uncle) was hit by a 14-wheeler truck (according to my sources). Dead on arrival.

That news sure has shaken me. I don't know much about my uncle but he's young. I just can't accept it that someone at the prime of their life dies so suddenly. It's just...grotesque. I know I'm being incoherent but I think it's preferable to die due to old age or a disease. Getting hit by a truck is too close to being murdered. And by what I have heard, the driver of the truck left his vehicle and ran away (As I'm typing this, my mom said that his family were already filing a case against the company).

Frankly, I'm very afraid. The world has become too dangerous to live in.

What Would Make Me Really Happy

2008-04-08T23:22:00.004+08:00

Ah, it's refreshing to have something put into my blog. Anyway, over this summer, I thought about a few things that I would like to have if I had a job. Or the money anyway, hahaha. Here are some things that my heart really desires and would more than compensate the depression and boredom I usually have during the summer season.

Number 1 on my list is a Nintendo DS Lite.

I once opted for a PSP Lite but I found (remember this is my opinion, no need to delve into the handheld console wars) the controls hurting all of my ten digits. And I'm not really into the PSP's game list. I prefer playing Super Mario than God of War anyway.

Another reason why I chose the DS is that it's a lot cheaper. My savings, in fact, is too exhausted to buy anything that's worth over 20k. (Hey, with lots of freebies at 10k, the DS Lite is the winner in terms of price!).

Now for number 2, is the Louis Vuitton Damier Geant Citadin PM (yup, complete with the model type! hehehe)

(Sorry, I can't find a better picture. Just visit LV's site to view this and other great stuff). Let me tell you this, I'm not fashionable. Never in my life did I qualify to the people's expectations of looking great. Ah...but when it comes to bags, that's another matter. My brother and I collect bags just as he collect sneakers. I have quite a collection ranging from Nike to Lacoste. Usually, I opt for Lacoste bags since they have this certain appeal that gives you an air of class. However, if I have a Louis Vuitton bag, that would make a lot of difference! My trashy clothes won't be notice if I'm sporting this Citadin PM. A lot of my acquaintances seem to think a Louis Vuitton is tacky. And these people are the so-called fashionistas in my circle. Whew boy! They couldn't have been more wrong. Anyway, first, I never thought there was a Louis Vuitton for men (yep, I lived a sheltered life) but when I finally visited their site, I was in love! LOVE! Now, if I just have the money, I'd buy all the Men's line in their shop at Greenbelt. I'm now envisioning myself asking my parents to buy me a Louis Vuitton bag. If ever this comes to full realization, I think I'll laugh my ass off when my father gives me the signature frown! Hahaha. Thinking about it now is making my stomach tickle!

So, that's it for now!

Sabbatical

2008-03-18T20:02:00.001+08:00

I'll be leaving for Pangasinan on Thursday with my Lola.

She came here to witness my graduating from college and is now granting me a chance to visit and really get acquainted with my parents' birthplace. This year it will be a little different because I'm the only one who's going. I envied my cousin so much when she, on an outburst of anger, rode on a bus and went to San Fabian without everybody in Manila or in Pangasinan even knowing. And the money she spent are all her own. I wish I could do the same but riding in a bus is so not my style. I'm not saying it's underneath me. Heaven's sake, I'm not that kind of person. I just don't like waiting in line, or, if the bus' full, standing all the way back to Manila (like the time when we've gone to Los Banos), and of course, I'm a bit paranoid with all the terrorism going on around.

Anyway, I plan to visit my Lola's rice farm and see the rice harvesting. I'll also visit some famous spots for the Holy Week such as Manaoag. What's more I get to relive a childish fancy that, finally, I'll be able to walk around the poblacion. I'll get to see the market, the Church, the Library in San Fabian. I also plan to visit a few beaches to see which place is appropriate, affordable and fun to hold a high school reunion. I will also make it a point to visit Quetegan, Mangatarem where my Father's family is living since my Lolo wasn't able to come during my graduation.

Sigh, it's vacation like this that makes me want to buy my own digital camera. I wish I had the Canon G9 or the Sony DSCT2 which are quite nice for picture taking and gives a prosumer quality pictures. But spend than what I can save is unforgivable, I'm already in my 20s with a Bachelor's degree, if I'm ever to be responsible I have to start now. But I really really want a digicam. I want I want I want....

I'll be able to take pictures however. I already borrowed my mom's camera and I plan to take a picture of all my agendas in the province. Be sure to visit my multiply site next week.

Demise

2008-03-16T20:37:00.002+08:00

Perishable, adorable friends

each sometime ends

--Elizabeth Bishop

'Twas Graduation day. The noon of the sixteenth day of the third month of the year.

Graduation day means a lot to many people. It may mean the start, the end or just another fork in the road. For me, it is the end. And in this way it is a start. I would not like to sound melodramatic for my intentions are easily undermine by prejudice but I just didn't cry this day. I was overly happy with no tears welling up in my eyes. It's a breath of relief and the much needed sigh of the heart. I'm grateful for this day.

I love life. And I love myself. Any attacks to this self must meet doom worst than any should have suffered and I shall devote my life in serving their heads on a plate. I promise that to my grave.

And now, everything ends and I'm not the least feeling regretful that everything ended too soon. I'm glad it's over. It means more "me" time. It means more quality time with your family and real friends. I'm glad I have a chance to be pure again. To stop being pretentious.

Till next time...

Dear Friends

2008-02-22T19:06:00.004+08:00

You know, these past few days.

You drop down from my heart.

And from my heart

We were not friends at all.

I grant you that.

Granted that

everything will go smoothly

like stories with no ending

ended, our

story has had enough of tears

of sadness and of pain

pain,

maybe yet we can still

accommodate.

i luv feist

2008-01-26T13:41:00.000+08:00

Another video from Leslie Feist. I wish she'll do a concert here in the Philippines. I'll get front-seat tickets.

I Feel It All (from The Reminder)

Gazing Thoughtlessly

2008-01-19T17:43:00.000+08:00

No good comes from snubbing

But the mind keeps on probing

for snippets or sensations

about life's most boring

situations.

Vague

2008-01-08T20:32:00.000+08:00

So what's what? And now what? No such thing as a well-worked resolution but I guess I'm doing a good job of it lately. I promise no more masks! No more hiding under the bush! It's the perfect moment with just a month to go before graduation. After that a new life. A free life. Perhaps, even a good one.

I have to be stronger. I have to create a space for myself. A space no intruder can ever get into. Unless I let him/her.

Thoughts of sadness and cruelty enter into my mind. Of course, yours truly admits to being selfish and evil, however, I assure you, they were the results of hopefully previous ideals. One thinks what I am doing is quite "plastic." I want to keep my word so much and yet I cannot amount to it. So I guess what I am doing--all of this, I mean--is a much better alternative.

And it pains me to admit that I can't even hold my part of the bargain. But that's human nature working.

Cheers to my life in 2008!

Born Against

2007-12-28T22:51:00.000+08:00

I'm a prick and I know it. People who know me, from the least acquainted to the intimate, have always been convinced however silent that I am a vicious person. Take for instance my father. He wonders why I don't like spending time with his very extended family. Every family reunion, my pa imposes us to make mano to all white-haired people at a family gathering saying that this white-haired individual happens to be the husband of their second-cousin's wife's aunt, and who happens to be a widow.

Ok, I am exaggerating but you don't know the inferno of embarrassment and the shameless family sharing I descend into. Every time I meet a member of the extended family, I always give them the condescending smile and damned them to someplace deeper than the subconscious.

Notice that I always refer to them as the extended family. They're different. They're not family. They're just fanciful imaginings of wrong Filipino ideals. They epitomized every wrong thing about having a big family and the pakikisama part. They're just nothing to me. They're not family to me. Not a single shiver of blood ties occur at those gatherings.

For example, this coming Family Reunion. And where do you ask? It's not Pangasinan which would have been justified since, after all it's my Pa and Ma's birthplace. Instead we have to hold it at San Mateo, Rizal for the simple reason that it's free because my pa's cousin (I don't like to call him uncle) has privileges for being one of the club's constructors. This family reunion is going to be different in that it's going to be held in honor of my pa's mom's (my grandma) family. Which does not necessarily mean we have to go since no blood-tie is authentic enough except for the paper-genealogy.

But we have to go because we want to show our pakikisama! The funny thing is my mother, brothers and my little sis have no plan of going either. We're all praying for divine intervention to stop this blight in my Christmas-to-New Year Reverie.

Reactions tomorrow evening.

Oh how exhausting this imagined fidelity to para-filial imaginings!

Not My Fault...

2007-11-18T21:35:00.000+08:00

(ranting mode)

Why is it I'm always the one at fault when I'm involved in a fight?

Again, the inevitable has happened. Only consolation is it's not about the old one. It is an entirely new one (in fact, they're a pair!) but may have the possibility of being short lived.

This time I had it. I got angry because, as the old Filipino saying goes, napuno na ang salop. First there was the matter of the bed, and now their insults. They think they can always get away with it. They think it's alright with me.

Now they are expecting something they never expected at all.

And (applause please!) some form of minute vengeance: the delay with the rent, the removal of their ink and the ban on the use of the printer, the ban on the bed, and the ban with everything that I own.

And I'm not being stubborn. I did not conceive the circumstances leading to this! In fact, I am the victim. How dare you say that its my fault. Do not dare speak to me like that. You are out of line! It is not a question of convenience nor of personal history. This time, they will learn. If they cannot respect me, how can they appropriate themselves in my presence in the near future? Ha! Don't you dare say I'm stubborn! They can come up to me and say their apology. That's all there is. I don't want any other external factors. I want them to realize what they did. Won't that make a more meaningful apology?

Don't you dare say I'm stubborn! It is not my fault!

Hot Headed

2007-11-12T01:11:00.001+08:00

Since I'm too irritated to go to sleep I'd rather blog than mope the early hours of the day wallowing in everything my roommates does.

I have this OC-thing when it comes to things: sure, you can do whatever you want with most of the stuff I own but when it comes to books, gadgets and the bed, that's another story.

I have always been patient with a lot of people. I may get easily impatient and short tempered but I tend to reason out for a few short moments. Then everything is just another day. Back to the same old self.

However, when you try to do the same things over and over again. You're getting into my nerves. And if I snap, I might snap a certain anatomical part.

There's the matter with the bed. First, I do all the stuff just to get it clean and comfortable. I don't know why but it always gets so dirtied up long before the new bed sheets have been slept in. Anyway, I figured why it gets so is that roommates come and go and lie as they want in my bed. They even step on it even when I'm sleeping. Talk about courtesy! Argh, it gets me so that I don't know what to say!

Anyway, I shouldn't be taking that up to bed time (even though its way past that). I don't like a bothered sleep.

To momentarily forget, I stumbled upon a very amusing e.e. cummings poem:

because you take life in your stride (instead
of scheming how to beat the noblest game
a man can proudly lose, or playing dead
and hoping death himself will do the same

because you aren't afraid to kiss the dirt
(and consequently dare to climb the sky)
because a mind no other mind should try
to fool has always failed to fool your heart

but most (without the smallest doubt) because
no best is quite so good you don't conceive
a better;and because no evil is
so worse than worst you fall in hate with love

--human one mortally immortal i
can turn immense all time's because to why

This one speaks to me. Especially the lines "because a mind no other mind should try/ to fool has always failed to fool your heart". They really hit a nerve. I can't stop thinking about this poem. Last Poem Syndrome!

Prince of Convenience

2007-11-07T10:50:00.000+08:00

Posting right from the Main Building. UST's free wi-fi is fast but too restricted. Can't access friendster, youtube and multiply. Anyway...just passing by.

Music In Me

2007-11-03T20:13:00.000+08:00

*Can't believe myself, trying to forget this blog of almost four years of personal history, abandoning it for my Multiply. Anyway, consider this as the return, or the reworking, of a once beautiful personal endeavor.*

My ears, once they fully reached the point of final development, have always been covered with an earphone. Music can then be taken as that silent homonculus of which I'm too proud to take notice of. Music, aside from taking it for granted, have also been part of my life. I remember when my Mom used to work for Sharp and I always badger her to get me a portable cassette player. She would always say no though she urged me to ask from my ninangs aka her co-workers. Then there was my first ever CD Walkman. Wow, it was a big hit during my grade school years--it became public property of the whole class! Then, lo and behold, my ears got tired of listening to the same genre, and I completely forgot what my parents called treasures then, the whole of high school life. That was my bookworm phase. High school was when I immersed myself in books being totally convinced that popularity and common sense of people my age (the love life obsession) was completely pointless and ridiculous; so I'd rather read Hemingway instead of forcing myself to attend JS Prom. Now, it all comes to college. A fact of life that says you can't enjoy the world right now, that's what college life is. So, the choice of entertainment was limited to something ignore-able or at least easy not to take notice of (there goes literature!). So I came to classical and world music. That with the help of my mom's CD player and, finally, my iPod (aka Ulysses).

Anyway, I do not limit myself to a certain genre. It makes my ears hurt if I play something all over again (although I tend to do that to a song I like at the moment), and that maybe the reason why there's great diversity in my 80GB Ulysses: unlock my iPod and you'll see Feist and Frederic Chopin, Justice and Enya, and so much more. I mean, I like variety in the things that I love. My whole music library, I'm proud to say, is certainly one of the most unique. There's alternative, rock, oldies, classical, Celtic, electronica, dance, Latin, jazz, soul etc! The construction of my whole library is shares great similarity with my book library: all exhibiting a wide range of genres.

But I'm not an expert in music. I cannot differentiate notes by their tunes, keys or whatever. I'm just a humble listener. And I listen hard, with the volumes cranked up, to the lyrics, to the melody.

And here, to pass the time, I think I'll start posting my very own Top 10. Here's for this moment:

10. Helicopter by Bloc Party

9. Atlantis to Interzone by The Klaxons

8. Brand New Colony by The Postal Service (not actual video)

7. Teddy Pickers by Arctic Monkeys

6. Bat's Mouth by Bat For Lashes

5. Silver Lining by Rilo Kiley

4. Tuning In by Hadouken! (not actual video)

3. Heinrich Maneuver by Interpol

2. D.A.N.C.E. by Justice

1. 1 2 3 4 by Feist

Jittery

2007-08-11T19:01:00.000+08:00

I don't know. I feel something. But I can't really explain it. Anyway, I am supposed to go to the 12 Girls Band Concert this 8:00 but I guess I lost interest. I still like their music but--I don't know. I guess I am not that so crazy about the girls anymore.

So, instead of mindlessly splurging 6K in just one night I bought a new pair of beige Lacoste shoes. Yep, surprising isn't it? But maybe, since turning 20 and the fact that I'm living in a dormitory entailing a responsibilityto be a man of my own, I've been cautious of how I spend my money.

We're not rich and that's a fact. I've been a little delirious to spend my money on things I like. Note the word like. But everything is coming to a point where I don't care about the things I like anymore. I want something that will last me for a very long time.

So that's why I bought the shoes.

It's a wholly different topic when it comes to books.

Temperament

2007-08-04T18:03:00.000+08:00

Having missed a somewhat interesting lecture in SCL 9, I have decided to find out what temperament I fit into (my friends took the test for me so it's not exactly 99% reliable). People said I am a pure melancholic person (for reasons that shall soon be apparent), so as a way of defending myself I took an online quiz (which is almost similar to the powerpoint lecture our Prof gave us).

This is the result of the online quiz:

Melancholic: 64%
Choleric: 36%

The Melancholic / Choleric

The melancholic-choleric is also a leader with the potential to accomplish great works. However, where the choleric-melancholic is driven by the challenge and the opportunity, the melancholic-choleric is inspired more by the nobility of the task. The introverted nature of the melancholic, combined with the focused and unempathic nature of the choleric, can result in an individual who is highly motivated by noble ideals (even humanitarian ones), but who prefers to work alone, rather than with people. The melancholic side of both temperament mixtures results in the project being organized, ethical, and high-minded, while the choleric aspect is the driving and demanding force.

If you are melancholic-choleric, you are somewhat less pragmatic (or utilitarian) than a pure choleric, just as persevering and determined, and with a greater emphasis on the ideal. Likely to be motivated by the most noble and demanding of causes, you are capable of founding a humanitarian society, composing a symphony, founding a school, or discovering a cure. You are organized, perfectionist, introspective, driven, and moody (though less so than a pure melancholic). You will be less active than a choleric-melancholic and less extraverted, more internally focused.

But your weaknesses include a tendency to excessive self-criticism and criticism of others, being dismissive or overly judgmental, exhibiting a tendency to self-absorption, and possessing an untrustful and controlling nature. You tend to be inflexible, can bear grudges for a long time and may be prone to discouragement. A melancholic-choleric who is not attentive to his spiritual life, and does not keep his eye assiduously on the truly important things of life can become a cross to those around him, through his nit-picking, perfectionism, disdain, bitterness, resentfulness, spitefulness when crossed, and even haughtiness.

If your temperament is melancholic-choleric, for a better understanding of your temperament it is recommended that you read the full descriptions of the melancholic and choleric.

Check it out

2007-08-04T16:51:00.000+08:00

Can't think of any title so I just put the song that's playing in my iPod. Haven't blog about something worthless the past months instead it's always about how my (former) enemy is making me miserable, how boring my life is, how people think about me (and how I resent it) and how come I can't do anything right.

So to make blogging fun again (and to trick out people there regarding the dried and barren land my life has become), I'm going to enumerate the things that has been happening (which basically starts from the period our section went on retreat).

To start with, what have I found out: Number one point. People hate me. And I'm telling myself (because I'm not someone to have a row with) I'll get you in the end. I'd rather bide my time than cause the trouble now. Who knows what will happen in the end? Second, I'm stubborn (please read my post "So this is what it feels like..."). Third, I'm full of pride. Fourth, I'm getting fatter (which is really the most tragic thing that has happened to me since). Fifth, I have to be a little nice to people. Sixth, I have to stop the bragging!

What did I do? 1) I've bought two speakers (one crappy Philips Ipod Speakers and a very nice Altec Lansing speakers, or in other words, my birthday gift). 2) Bought new stock of books. 3) Finished HP7 in a day when I have to study for exams.

What else? 1) I'm trying to stop it.

So that's that. (I feel a bit dizzy ok?)

Birthday Song

2007-08-01T13:45:00.000+08:00

Had a very fun birthday party. They were all there. My high school bestfriends and my college best friends. Can't believe they'll mix nicely and for so short a time. But all the same, it was a day of getting drunk. And it was spelled: Red Horse-Jose Cuervo-Bailey's-San Mig Light (yep, Super Drys weren't available). I came close to being knocked out but thankfully, some of my college friends can't stay for the booze (the excuse for the seemingly limited amount of booze) but it was just so nice to be wasted that day and let your friends care for you.

So this is what it feels like...

2007-07-23T20:53:00.001+08:00

when everything seems just alright.

Like what my friend said, anything can be healed in Caleruega. Wanting to prove it wrong, I deliberately did not partake in any life-changing activity. I feel so mean but I guess, and here's what I really really hate myself for, my pride got the better of me.

So here's the real story, the penultimate activity of our second day was to give out letters to those who wronged me, to those who I wronged, to those who I want to give out help, and to those who I would like to thank for. Having no intention of doing any stuff relating to forgiving, but which "almost" made me write out a letter, I pushed everything out of my mind and let it work recalling the things which made me hate a classmate of mine just a little bit more. To be honest, it worked. It really really worked. But it worked too much. For the mean time, it provided me enough reason not to send out a heartfelt letter of forgiveness, and wrote instead,

"My one great talent lies in making those who wronged me suffer horribly (Archilochus)"

But I did not even give it to him. All I felt before the open forum/unburdening was pure apathy. So, to continue, the whole of Gazekubo was enshrouded in a manner as if everyone was asking for sorry (even a close friend of mine wrote a letter to his archenemy). Nope, it did not have an effect on me.

Then came the dreaded open forum. I was a coward during that moment especially when the aforementioned close friend of mine decided to face the coming meteor instead of the originally-planned of skipping out. Doing such a thing would certainly exacerbate the conflict in the classroom. Then I stayed. It was like magic. The way that even the most sensitive issue was discussed and dissected, argued upon by those who are primarily involved, carried its way into some sort of resolution. Even if the answers to the problems cannot be completely expressed or acted upon, at least it is the start of the end of conflicts.

My turn came, first I gave out my apology to those who I unconsciously offended and I thanked my friends for being there for me. For always being there when I needed them. I thanked each and everyone of my classmates except one. I was, as Peter said, the Flip version of the Grudge.

Before my turn, he already spoke about how he offended people and he gave out his apologies one of which was directed to me (he gave out my name!). He said sorry even if he doesn't know what he was apologizing for. I was still a hard-hearted man. In fact, during his talk, I was not looking at him and I was so tempted to use my in-ear monitors so as not to hear him. It was the most uncomfortable thing that ever happened to me. I'd rather face the ghosts in our cottage than be in that situation.

Suffice it to say, between me and him, nothing was resolved, and now, one of the quotable quotes now outlived by some was "We'll see" to which everybody had one of their eyebrows raised.

But that what was happening then. I became conscious of his intentions. And I felt despair because of guilt. Before, I felt anger, then apathy but what made me depressed in some sort of way, was that I'm feeling guilty right at that very moment. Guilty because I let my hatred grow, I let my mind to intervene where emotions rarely point to the right choice, I let my conscience be scrupulous. I felt guilt overtaking every inch of my body. And that was the start of a life-changing moment.

I asked two of people I completely give my trust to, and they all said the same thing: a person with pride so high has removed every trace of it in his body in order to mend things. And I was being pig-headed not to even consider it. Ouch.

But pig-headed I remained. I did not talk to him at Caleruega.

So back in the immortal school. Wednesday night. I was reviewing the tape of our retreat in preparation for editing. I did not expect it. There he was in that video. He was not asking for reasons why I hated him. It was just a simple "Sorry na." That hit me. During the retreat, I was not looking at him for fear of letting emotions (thru facial expressions err...expressed by him) get the better of my reason. But there it is. The video. And with so short a video track, I can feel that he was very sincere. But I have to tell the truth, I was still in doubt of his apology. I did not like it. I cannot sleep that night, so instead of studying for a major subject, I called the one friend I can always rely. He cannot give advice anymore. It was up to me. But I have to know that I was being pig-headed about everything. I was being proud. Too proud. The one thing I hate. And that night, I texted him. But to show him that I am not in anyway getting soft, I referred to him as Mr. ---- and I spoke in English. Never did I texted him in Taglish or in Tagalog before our confrontation. I want to show that I am using reason. That however I texted him, I still feel doubt.

It was like all over again. Arguments thru text messages. Asking me questions I never did like to answer. When the time came close to having an oral argument thru defamation, I texted him that even if he does not want to talk, I will no longer feel any anger or hatred towards him. I will no longer resent his presence.

Thursday. The day of confrontation. What has passed between us that night is mine to keep but not mine to pronounce. It was getting to be a very heated argument but we both kept our cool and the night ended in a handshake.

All is well. From now on.

I gained a reader. I gained a friend.

Peace

2007-07-23T11:28:00.000+08:00

Ilog
by Joey Ayala

Ang buhay ko ay isang ilog
Umaagos tungo sa laot
Sa pagdaloy ay lumiliko-liko
Ngunit dagat pa rin ang inaabot

Ang buhay mo ay isang ilog
Umaagos tungo sa laot
Sa pagdalo’y tayo’y nagkatagpo
At ngayon tayo’y magkaisang tungo

Lilikha tayo ng bagong daan
Uukitin sa bato ang kasaysayan
At walang hadlang na di malalagusan
Habang tayo ay magkaisang tunay

Lilikha tayo ng bagong daan
Uukitin sa bato ang kasaysayan
At walang hadlang na di malalagusan
Habang tayo ay magkaisang tunay
Habang tayo ay magkaisang tunay

Maturity

2007-06-11T17:45:00.000+08:00

People say I'm not mature. Not mature enough is not what they mean. I'm a child in my friends' eyes. They never think of me as someone with an adult mind. I'm not going to rant about my certain childishness but it's just that I have been qualified as having a child-mind all because I never had any intimate relationship whatsoever. And that makes me mad (yes! Mad as in Crazy Raving Mad).

I had a conversation with a very good friend a while back. She was talking about a very exhilarating subject she was taking—mentioning—no, raving about—the inherent practicality of the subject (which I find to be a waste of time since we are incoming fourth years after all, and that the major subjects must take priority). I really had no problems with that since I was also interested at that time. Now, she goes on to say that it's the court of mature minds. And to which I'm not qualified to participate.

I feel a certain growing anger. I feel angry and mad because people seem to think that I'm still a child waiting to grow up. So what I did was to examine all the major turning points of my life so that I can say I'm as mature as anyone at my age is. What I realized during that personal examination is the reliance on parents. But I don't think that's the deciding factor because in fact, I'm more liberated compared to most of my peers, I don't get scolded if it gets late, in fact, I didn't get scolded at all for any irresponsibilities which I caused—all it takes is a little serious talk. And that's a very mature thing. Nobody can doubt that. And there's the fact that, as long as we don't have a stable job and a stable solitary living condition, the only ones who can support us are our parents.

I asked myself what my actions were that were so childish to most of my friends. I read books ranging from trashy novels and serious works. Then again, many younger teens can do that. I've attempted to write poems and stories that can satisfy me. But there is the fact that almost anybody can do that. So I've wracked my brain trying to figure out which I did that made me so childish.

I have never found the answer in all the things I have and and actions I have committed. But I did find the qualification of my friends' judgment as something highly connected to an intimate relationship. Which is something I never had. But who cares? Yes, I agree that having an intimate relationship with someone can give you the experience, which will happen to you in any case during your whole lifetime. But something in me, something in the back of my mind, or maybe these little gray cells, just doesn't agree with having a relationship as something to do with maturity. I'm bothered by that apprehension. It's like understating the purpose of human life.

Maturity as the gathering up of experience is what my friends have considered the meaning of maturity. If you have experienced to cry and deal with it; if you have experienced happiness and be able to deal with it; if you have experienced loving someone not your blood relation and be able to deal with it, that may be a part of growing up. For me, and this I want to stress, maturity is achieved only by pure realization of ourselves—that is, I know what I cannot do and I try to do whatever that is. Perhaps, reaching the age of maturity is when we finally accept that which we know is that we don't know anything at all (go Socrates!)--and we're taking pains to know which we have never known. And that starts our way to self-realization. A realized life means a life lived well against the ravages of time.

WANTED: PHOTOGRAPHERS

2007-05-25T06:38:00.000+08:00

Hi guys. I'm currently looking for a photographer or anyone who has a dSLR camera who's willing to lend it. For those are just going to lend their camera we're willing to pay any fees you demand (as long as we can afford it) or any photographer who would like to accompany us and take pictures of herptiles at Mt. Makiling. We're offering P5000 (good for 3 weekend trips) with all amenities (transportation, food, camping gear) paid for. If you know anyone who's interested, pls contact me 09175377730. Thanks.

Satisfy Me

2007-05-21T15:16:00.000+08:00

It has always been inside me. It's a problem that I should get rid of. It's taking quite a lot from me. Mind-numbing decisions have placed my brain and body under the most excruciating conditions. Only you, dear reader, can provide the valium for this disease. Help me.

...so feel free to post any music recommendations. I'm trying to fill up my little Ulysses (aka iPod).

Dried Out

2007-05-14T07:49:00.000+08:00

You say to go on. What I have is what makes me now. No, understanding the inside of a person is a much difficult undertaking. Not necessarily a herculean task, but I would rather much waste my time with a person I don't really really like than, say, understand feelings, emotions, thought patterns of my very best friends. Paranoia? Sure, if that's what you want to call it. Awareness, or say, a deprivation, of truth. It's like living without any sincerity. It's like seeing without really looking at all. Like going out for a walk because you feel empty. Like being lost. No word's can't describe it. I can't even classify what this feeling means--is it the imaginative outpouring of a mind full of so much yet trapped under the labels of procrastination and boredom? or is it a serious unseriousness which one would just as express readily instead of doing an oh-so analysis of human life? What happens then?

What Was That?

2007-04-30T16:20:00.000+08:00

Or, maybe, what is that?

Factual: boredom is not new. Neither is it a novelty. Boredom has been around the world for years that's why there are many things that give people a chance to stay out of boredom's territory. Some say that boredom is one of man's many sins. Although, when people mean that, they don't actually mean the same thing as the common preconception. I think it is more correct to say that indulging in boredom that is choosing to be bored and not doing anything about it is a sin.

So it's human to avoid boredom even if it means at all cost.

But I think that's a little over-the-fence. At all cost may mean to do anything, whether good or bad, just to get out of boredom's way. I'm saying that avoiding boredom must consist in something good in order to be fun (if you think being bad and hurting other people or yourself is getting you unbored--well, maybe you should consider talking to a psychiatrist). Deriving pleasure, then, from the apprehension of the essence of boredom, is the goal of every human being when he or she has nothing to do. Deriving pleasure may also give the person a sense of inspiration. It is the embodiment of a search for meaning because we are now aware of a certain void.

So be a complete person. Drive boredom out of your mind (like what I did! hehe).

It Is Killing Me

2007-04-22T21:26:00.001+08:00

...the boredom that is. So to sum it all up, I'll just give you a picture: imagine when you can't turn on the aircon for fear of hastening the energy shortage and the electric fan is not working. Imagine a 100+ lbs of human meat with hair growing around in all parts of his body spending the time before and after summer classes moaning about having nothing to do except watch a movie or go to the mall and cool off sleeping even if he doesn't feel sleepy.

Yes my dear readers. That's the monotonous activity I have subjected myself in. It's all me, my iPod, my camphone and my laptop. They're the only ones that keep me alive (and my cellphone is even failing me! Not a single exciting text message! [I was hoping for someone to text that we're going to do this and that!]). So anyway that's that.

I have this feeling. Something between the feeling when I get disappointed and when I get so excited/happy. I've never felt this feeling again. I don't know. Maybe its because I'm entering my fourth year in college. That, technically, it's my last year in school. After graduating (if ever I graduate at all) I am left with the mind-stressing decision that shall decide the river of my life forever. But this year, this year is the last year I can improve so I'll definitely give my best and I want you and the people around me to pinch me hard in the stomach if you think I'm not giving my 100%.

I am getting irritated. It's the summer after all and I was not even drunk up till now. We've gone to Ice Vodka Bar the night after NMAT exams, and I've embarrassed myself trying to dance, and I've consumed alcohol after alcohol and the nearest to drunk was that I was a feeling a little tipsy. Oh the irony! During the second semester I'll come home late and drunk, while this summer break I only had 1 Coke Bacardi, 1 Johnnie Walker (of course I'm talking about shots), 2 Super Dry SMB, 1 Pale Pilsen SMB and 1 Colt 45 (all standard size). Some summer break...(hey guys...I'm always available right after 3 pm so call me if you want to get wasted).

The Past Week in Review

2007-04-17T17:56:00.000+08:00

I've been a hypocrite. A sophist. But I'm not going to do it. The prideful part got the better part of me. So maybe I just need a little more time.

Jitters

2007-04-14T23:12:00.000+08:00

A Few Hours Left...

Too many to study...

Help us!

The Possibility of Forgiving

2007-04-08T21:25:00.000+08:00

Nope. I am not getting soft. Neither do I retract what I have said. I may not be the oh-so perfect guy that sticks to whatever his mind decides but I've got some principles.

I have finally decided. To forgive and maybe, if possible, to forget. Yes there is this lingering dark spot but I guess, through a great examination of my conscience, I have finally decided to call for peace. This is not compromising. This is having peace have its way.

Now forgiveness is such a painful thing to do. The greatest pain is one that can finally put hearts back in their places with the indescribable feeling of contentment. This what I want to feel. To move freely without hindrance and obstacles will be of great help in my dealing out with various problems to be encountered in this imperfect path to a realized and "lived" life. Forgiveness, metaphorically, is the mouthwash of the soul. No matter how it tastes bad and how awful it is, we are sure that it cleanses everything. Forgiveness is the deciding line between instincts: animals, if they see a threat, attacks without paying heed to possible consequences whereas man has to think and evaluate any given situations. In short, man thinks. And with this thinking nature of man lies the possibility of attaining peace. And peace therefore becomes a reconciling factor between man and his creator for peace comes from God himself. Therefore, to forgive means to attain peace and to attain peace means being one with his creator. And who would not want to attain this ultimate sense of completion?

An Art, A Talent and A Weakness

2007-04-07T21:06:00.000+08:00

"My one great talent lies in making
those who wrong me suffer horribly."
-Archilochus

Note: I hope this is the last of these kind of posts...

It is very sad that I have an enemy. Yes. So cliché but I can't do anything about it anymore. At first it was just a passing feeling--it's the economy of social relationships! Individual A makes friends and one out of those five or ten friends turns into his most hated nemesis. Individual A cannot prevent it from happening probably because it was destined to be so or that he stood a silent fool and let his stoic inclinations get the better of him.

Anyway, it was then that hatred was born. Surely this is not the right topic to talk about during the Lenten season but it seems I can't get this out of my system without doing some sort of activity that will serve as an emotional outlet seeing that the quarrel I have is getting unhealthy.

Now hatred is an art. Choosing the one you will hate takes a lot of courage--or it takes a lot of--what I would like to call--mere foolhardiness. Before, persons of quality (or at least who I consider as an equal) were the people I get into a fight with; now it all seems to be anybody who has the "wind" behind their back (which will probably go away before they can even make full use of this "wind"). But the artistry of hatred does not rely on choosing your enemy. The art of being in a fight--in being drenched in the sense of hatred--requires that one of the two opposing parties must be, in a way, emotionally stable, for having this kind of stability not only shows your strength in handling such relationships but it also emphasizes that you have the upper hand. Now, here comes the part where art maybe applied. Now art as I define it is any creative unsuppressed way of methodical expression of humanistic instinct as influenced by the intellect alone. So to express your feeling in an artistic way is to show your human instinct. Human instinct here must be emphasized as different to animal instinct--human instinct alone is characterized by the full use of human abilities without resorting to any form of brutish behavior. You wonder where the artistry of hatred can be applied. Well, to put it simply, the way a person expresses his great dislike must be in the most "artistic" sense possible so as to retain the human standard of handling such social affairs. I was afraid at first of thinking up the artistry in such social dimensions but now, as I write this, I think the application of such "artistry" prevents the crude means of handling a quarrel such as resorting to brutality.

Maintaining a quarrel takes a lot of talent. Yes, this is the evil part because why would anyone sustain a quarrel? Well, before getting to the talent part let me first express my reasons for sustaining a quarrel. In my experience, feeding hatred has something to do with proving oneself. The pigheaded nature of not forgiving has a lot to do with pride. Simply put, we want the other party to know who he or she is barking at. Second, and this one is derived from pure observation, is that the person caused too much emotional and/or spiritual pain to the other person that this person cannot find the reason for forgiving such an action leading to a great hatred for the entire personality of that individual. Probably, the first one mentioned is the best reason that shall account for any continuing quarrel.

Now, as I said, you must have the talent to sustain a fight. In short, you must have the guts and the know-how to withstand the pain that the fight has brought on. Without this, as I'm sure you know, you'll end up as the losing party (let's face it, even if most quarrels are over we really think we are the one who gave the reason for the dissolution, not our enemies--and that would really leave a bad taste in our mouth!). This kind of talent, as opposed to the artistry of being in a quarrel, is similar to Machiavellian doctrines. Talent requires the full use of every means possible to sustain and win a fight.

Now here is where it all boils down to. Hatred is a great weakness. We ask ourselves at the very start, why do I hate? Hate leaves a bad feeling every time I wake up and sleep. I wake up with the knowledge that someone out there has a great dislike for me, and I cannot sleep soundly knowing that someone out there would like me to be uncomfortable every minute of my existence. Everything I enumerated greatly depends on the nature of hatred. The first one I mentioned, the one regarding hatred, is an example of a peaceful coexistence because the emotional outrage each person is feeling is transformed in very artistic means thereby eliminating possible violent confrontations. The second one deals with the cunningness needed to win over a fight aside from the fact that it sounds Machiavellian.

If it is possible, avoid feeling hatred. Hatred is this bane that makes peace nonexistent. If hatred persists, do something in very constructive means. Do not indulge yourself in feeling sad and angry every time you think of your quarrel. Do not readily believe the claims of your enemy for you alone knows yourself better than anyone. To be judged by such a person is to be sentenced unjustly.

Guilt

2007-04-05T20:43:00.000+08:00

Guilt has also consumed me.

I feel it in every passing moment. I feel pain in every minute. I am looking at you and you looking at me. We are still drenched in hatred. You want to smote me as much as I want to smote you. Not every being in the world is conscious—our two minds locked inside a padded cell: we have the choice to consider each other as perfectly normal beings or to completely ignore the reality that now surrounds us.

Consider then the padded cell. How is one suppose to exist peacefully when tension from both present beings increase by the minute hindering growth in a locked world? We feel loneliness more and more. Solitude, by the minute of increasing tension and conflict, grows steadily in very drastic means. Solitude is solely expressed in every action pertaining to the longing of exacting a great amount of vengeance from both the parties.

It is becoming unhealthy. When every passing moment seems to hold the fact that each of us live in solitude with the outward longing for a tirade that will finish the tension between us—that is becoming unhealthy. It is too terrible to imagine if, as childish as it seems, we resort to brutish pugilism governed only by instinct.

I ask only of myself: What has happened? Peaceful coexistence was the best path that I should have followed and now this situation has gotten out of hand—it is now the fates that hold the outcome. I will not be so bold to again reach out my hand. I will not be so cowardly so as to refuse any challenges which, any minute, might spring from this conflict.

Yet pride remains in me. I long still to hurt you. 'Tis what my heart longs for. Psychologically, yes, I am crazy. But we all have this degree of insufficiently following the rules of right conduct, or at the very essential, the law of right and wrong, that we(or at least, I) stipulated it with the misnomer--”craziness”.

However pride remains flowing through my blood, there is this greater part of me longing for progress. Progress, C.S. Lewis said, is not only going forward but choosing the right path and to necessarily go back and start again if the path taken proves to be wrong. I am not saying to indulge in emotional gestures by saying we should start all over again. I cannot give words to express what I want fully but taking the path of progress certainly provides silence to hearts drenched, and wrinkled, in hatred. Taking the path of progress might just prove enough to be the start of healing.

And yet, after all of this, I do not know yet how to forgive.

All I Needed...

2007-04-05T10:53:00.000+08:00

A Poison Tree
by William Blake

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears
Night and morning with my tears,
And I sunned it with smiles
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright,
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,--

And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning, glad, I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

You Were Asking Why

2007-04-04T22:29:00.000+08:00

I have always hated you. I don't know why. You just look hate-able to me. Yes, it is perfectly illogical and you know, by my standards, everything I do must exist in the realms of logic however peculiar it may seem. But I'm not the only one. That's not the point though. I hate you because it is so. And I know I'm kupal according to your very crude phraseology because I can't even give existence to the seemingly logical fact of hating you. At first I'm giving the seasonality and peer pressure the chance to at least forgive you. It was a foolish thing and now I want the ream back because I shouldn't have done it at the first place. It's not that I have a problem with you it's just that I don't really like you. Maybe I've used the principles of the term "hatred" loosely. I don't hate hate you. I just don't like you. Hate lite, so to speak.

Yes, I'm pathetic. But you're even pathetic than me. So I hate you therefore I ignore you and I don't recognize the fact that you exist. Yes, before, I was trying to say to myself: live and let live. But the fact that I am able to help you is a vomitting transfiguration of future existential situational possibilities to an easily botched interpretation of things. The live and let live adage cannot possibly provide the longing I have to exact a fair amount of vengeance. Let me repeat, we're both pathetic but you are way above than me: not giving you a quick glance of hello is cause enough for you; the mere fact that I have omitted your request for a copy of notes for a certain subject is certainly a tough one for you--I cannot help but imagine the emotional traumas you have gone through!

When I read the message I was overwhelmed but certainly felt that a part of me said I deserved it. Yes, backbiting and cat-calls are only normal when quarreling so at that case I forgive you. That case only.

I am dead tired of arguing and trying to come up with explanations. I should not have to explain myself. We both need good punches in the stomach--me punching yours and vice versa so at least we both have good wake-up calls. I started this fight and I am going to end this fight even if it means a "thorough warfare." For now, ignorance and the occasional turn of the head might just suffice instead of a bomb.

PS. Let me know when you have read this blog.

HATE

2007-03-26T03:23:00.000+08:00

is a very broad term. So broad that it gets to you: it drains your mind of your well-planned priorities putting you in a very sour mood. Of course, hatred is such a word that resembles the so-and-so situations to blood-shedding incidents (no need to delve in other topics!).

I feel hatred now. Not the the strangling type of hatred but the dead-tired hatred. For example, I haven't slept as of now since I was studying for a removal exam when I received a message which has all summarized the retardation of such-and-such a person. KUPAL ako was the phrase I didn't like. It sounds so...cheap!

And all because...

2007-03-04T23:15:00.000+08:00

I can't believe how long I wasn't able to blog. Well, I had a lot of time to post updates but I guess I'm always tired due to the fact that almost everyweek we have a test. So that's not an update at all. Just repeating the same old story again.

I have always cherished blogging. Everytime I feel something which I can't really explain I feel I have to blog about it. I guess blogging seems to be serving an emotional outlet for me and for a lot of people out there.

Blogging is not senseless. It never was. It only becomes senseless when we have the same stuff being tackled in different methods conceivable posted and reposted--conciously and unconsciously--in some tacky layout. Take for example this:

Dear Blog,

Today was a hard day. So I cleaned out my locker and look I found the book I wasn't able to return to the library!

That's senseless blogging. But maybe, some of us can't help posting our day to day activities--like there's a great need for these kind of people to let other people know what's going on with their lives (they should join PBB). But blogs allow other people a peek into their lives.

Died. Who?

2006-12-26T17:15:00.000+08:00

Yes. And perhaps. The best thing that was left to do. No. Not the action but the analysis. It's pure. It's what has always been contained. You were right. Things and people. Never last long. Enough.
What you did was horrible! And a downright display of ingratitude. But you're you. You can't do anything right but just be you. You only have you! What will you do? Picture in your mind that you were doing your thing just as they were passing by. Picture your mind trying to concoct some weird way of saying "hello" so that they'll even notice you. Picture everything--from the dirty cemented floor to the banal vandal on the wall. And then picture how you are going to say it. What's left to do then but be yourself? Yes Yes. You were right. I mean your being right was, in a way, conceptually logical. But now you only have yourself! Is that even right when people still surrounds you? Yes. I know. You are not alone. They're right. They're the only ones that can keep you alive. Them and your family. So from now on keep them! Drink with them! Show them the bonds of love and fraternity. Feel their hands on your back. They're the ones that always loved you. Only fault is that you were proud. But it wasn't too late. Love comes back knocking on the door.

It's Wrong

2006-12-16T19:45:00.000+08:00

The pearly gates are not opened. No muses are to be heard. Atlas shrugs and lifts up the world again. And I vainly struggle to do things that are absurd...

Help me!

New Beginning

2006-12-09T22:21:00.000+08:00

As I type this, I am currently experiencing the post symptoms of semi-hang over so don't mind the typos, the fallacies and most importantly the grammatical structures of this post.

So I went to UST to meet with my CVA laboratory group mates to finish the Scoiliodon palasorrah (Dogfish shark) dissection.

Needless to say it was very uneventful.

The concern of this post is what happened after the dissection.

More soon. I feel vomiting.

Piggybacking

2006-11-21T17:01:00.000+08:00

Not hell week. For instance? For instance, that today I got fed up. The age-old tired premise once again has got out and in in its clicheness that no wonder people (including me) got tired hearing of it. All that's left is to dismiss the premise and have yourself splashed on all over with the whole concreteness (sp?) of worldy interactions: like studying for a quiz!

Now there's nothing like studying for a quiz. There are lots of ways to enjoy studying. It feels like a last-meal-before-your-execution feeling. It feels like enjoying yourself (no pun intended) by torturing yourself. It feels a lot like uniqueness with satisfaction lying in the wait (that's when quizzes are over!).

One effective way is studying in groups. But be sure you really have studied before the day you and your classmates convene to your place. You'll probably enjoy the talk about this-and-that instead of asking about the order in which the protochordates belong.

So much has happened the past months I haven't blogged. The sembreak was not a physically exciting event. Instead, the past months proved to be very much relaxing that thinking about things only get me depress.

For example, my friends (in order to exact a fair amount of discreteness) went to Batangas and had our "class" trip there. I have emphasized class since most of those who plan were the ones who weren't able to come to the trip at all. Nevertheless, the trip was very fun. Especially the drinking part (I have to come up with a recording of the session when Jake told me I was telling the story of the Iliad while having stuffed myself with lots and lots of eerily-delicious Red Horse).

"We can break the cycle. We can break the chains." goes a wonderful song by Tracy Chapman who probably possess a very unique voice that's so cold and yet so emphatic that you can cry at the meaning of the lines with the melodious tone of her song. So much for critic-wannabe wording.

I would really like to talk about the idea of relationship with recourse to friendship and intimate relationship. So here's the drift. Relationship gets to have its limelight in that communication is expressed in a higher order. For example, Mother and Son has a lot more meaning than a Woman and Child--we acknowledge the specificity of the relationship; we internalize the meaning of such a relationship. Another is boyfriend-girlfriend. This type of relationship possess a degree of complication since it is yet bounded in social norms which is best exemplified by courtship and its result, marriage.

So I got to talked about relationships. More on that next time. I have no time to think that I've been typing in this blog since I've entered the Internet Station at the Main Library since I, unfortunately, got myself in the first batch of test-takers that I felt I've flunked the practicum; and I'm still waiting for my brother to finish their practice for a dramatization of Noli Me Tangere.

Lastly, excuse the wrong grammar. You don't have a right.

Trash

2006-10-20T10:15:00.000+08:00

I need to read something trashy.

Not the Dan Brown trashy (yet). The trashy piece of literature that's between the cheap love novels sold in Divisoria/Quiapo and the ranting of that lunatic-ehem-sophist of this century, Dan Brown.

I need to read something trashy so I can begin reading another batch of SERIOUS authors.

Whats and Whys

2006-10-14T12:10:00.000+08:00

It is the sembreak. So its time for fun. Be happy even when the Indiana-Jones-Walls-With-Spikes are closing in to impale every part of your body. Be happy at least you died frolicking.

But death is not to be served in this post.

Sembreak means my time against their time. It's a race towards self-indulging or self-pity.

It's The Best That I Can Manage

2006-09-18T12:18:00.000+08:00

It's all I have to bring today (26)
by Emily Dickinson

It's all I have to bring today –
This, and my heart beside –
This, and my heart, and all the fields –
And all the meadows wide –
Be sure you count – should I forget
Some one the sum could tell –
This, and my heart, and all the Bees
Which in the Clover dwell.

I Read Like a Faulkner Novel

2006-09-17T23:17:00.000+08:00

Which means, by my and my friends' standards, unreadable.

For the past weekend, I've been wrestling with the idea of being gone for good. Gone meaning to say no more. Gone for good--trying to erase everything: my life in school, my life with friends.

For example, I was entertaining thoughts of suicide (you know they're right--I could never do it). The only thing so beautiful with suicide is that I'm really really gone and nobody will give a damn what mistakes I did because they can't really blame me--the dead.

Another way was to run off somewhere. I'll try being a stow away.... But comforts of home and family prove beyond doubt that it's such an idiotic idea! (I was running away to make my life better after all!).

So there's nothing left for me.

My friends, my family and the guys at the Guidance office can't help me. For the first time, I am conscious of the fact that I am helpless. Nobody can really help me. Not my mother and father who'll be there when you drop a tear; no bestfriend to say everything's going to be alright; no confidante to say everything's inevitable though "curable."

Why can nobody help me? All they have to do is to erase my fucking name from the fucking database stored inside the fucking computer! Is that so hard to do? Why can't they understand that it's my fucking money that's going to be wasted not their's!

Why cannot they understand?

It's such a simple situation really! Student Brown wants to quit the class of Teacher Turd Yellow! Student Brown has to file out the dropping form at the administration office. Student Brown waits for approval. Clerk Whatshername says to inform Teacher Turd Yellow even if she disapproves. Clerk Whatchacallit says if she disapproves ask Secretary Broadshoulders. Student Brown consults the guidance office. Student Brown was told to go on. Student Brown approaches Teacher Turd Yellow. Teacher Turd Yellow disapproves (some students might also drop!). Clerks Whatchacallit and Whatshername says nothing can be done and that Secretary Broadshoulders will disapprove anyway so why make an appointment...?

So Student Brown is lost.

This is Just to Say

2006-09-06T12:07:00.000+08:00

I have left Joseph
in the lobby
who was whining
just this morning

and for which he's going
to be furious for leaving
him clueless
of his own nature

Forgive me
I was just playing
for which he
probably doesn't know

Suicide

2006-09-04T22:30:00.000+08:00

For years now, I have wondered who will cry for me when I die. Surely my parents. But that's the traditional sense of loss. I want to know who will be the faker and the one who will pour his/her heart out.

But I can't see that happening. To do so would make me a very vain person. I am supposing that people like me (which isn't true because I think of my enemies and my planned revenge than my friends).

Another thing is that I am afraid of blades and anything that can prick my skin. Once, when I was hospitalized I really really cried because I can't stand to see the needle pricking my skin. Urgh! (just for the record, I already had a well-developed mustache and beard!) But who cares? The people who just laughed at me can only laugh. Those people can't do anything but do their little part. And I've never cared much for what people think when I'm doing my stuff (best friend I hope you are reading this hehe).

So that's why I can't committ a suicide.

You may also include the fact that I still have a lot of books to read so I can't die now.

Treading an Unknown Terrain

2006-09-03T21:07:00.000+08:00

It is as much a question of economic gain/status as it is a controversy of integrity.

1. We must ask ourselves, what can we gain? What can both sides--both, trying to stab and incapacitate the other--gain?

2. To resolve the matter (or as the academics would like to say, rectify the situation) may be one of the defining points of the role of ethics and values in the twenty-first century.

3. To have it resolved by peaceful means is another matter. But still in the same course.

4. Resignation to the mood of those who had enough and those who are tired is another way of losing.

5. You have much to gain. What do you do? Watch the telly and wait 'til the embassy approves your application?

6. Be honest! If we have so much to trust about ourselves, this country could have been great. But I guess the blood of heroes is not enough to fertilize the soil.

7. Please, you're all human persons. You are all capable of making a sound judgment.

8. The human authorities--the government and its bureaucracies--cannot do anything to even provide a glimpse of relief. Why do we keep trusting them?

9. Learn from the events of the German-Spanish war: it never took place (arsenally speaking) because both sides made a wise decision--consult the Pope.

10. But me thinks, the resolution need not be pass on to a higher court. We must undertake the task of setting the fences straight.

(please, if you know what I'm talking about, do type up in the comments. thanks!)

ID Lace Queen, Alan Strang, Heidegger and Getting Lost for Good

2006-08-29T21:36:00.000+08:00

Good news. I resigned to my fate.

So I accepted the 10/20 errr...5/20 evaluation point for ChemLab.

I don't know what the Queen of ID Laces has against me. One more step in the wrong field and the College of Science will witness the explosion of shouts and screams that has never been heard of before.

I'm kidding. I'm dignified.

Dignified, meaning that I don't decorate my neck with layers upon layers of ID laces with flash disks and sets of keys.

Kidding, meaning that I don't draw a bond-angle formula and draw a smiley face inside it and say to the class, "Class, this is Spongebob" (with a look of excitement on her face).

The Class: "Ooh...so Ma'm was trying to make a joke." (Puzzled looks.)

Ha, at last I was able to read Equus. I still can't say but I'm liking the story so far. I just want to continue reading it (if not for our Lit project, ChemLab formal report and ComLec report).

My latest read that's currently on a the stock list is Heidegger's Poetry, Language and Thought. After I buy the books I plan to have my hands on at Saturday, and as soon I finish The New York Trilogy, I'm going to start right away.

Just had a very flattering event yesterday. My Lit prof called me and said that I've written a very good essay.

Yay! There's still hope!

Why did Caesar crossed the Rubicon?

2006-08-27T20:31:00.000+08:00

Oh c'mon humor me guys. I feel like writing again.

I feel down in the dumps lately. I know I know I have no reason to feel it again. I can't I can't really feel this. I don't deserve this. I really really do not deserve this. I cannot doubt. I really cannot doubt. I would be dead before I can even doubt.

I have no choice but to pass this road once again.

Or this widening river. This river. The one that I was not to step on again. I can't believe its happening again (I am inclined to the theory that Rita is cursing me).

But no. Since I do not deserve this, then somebody is making me suffer. I have tried my best. In a certain field, I am its farmer. I have done my best to cultivate it. I have done everything to make it into my garden. And now, just because someone knows where we (me and others who I consider an owner of that garden) keep the fertilizers, he goes in and takes the fertilizers and feed it into a terrain he has not even visited once.

But I will not let it. I will go to that garden. I will show him that he does not deserve to be in that place. He has not shown love. He does not show love. He can only do so because he thinks he must or else someone will slash his throat.

But kindness is reserved for those who show kindness to everyone. Not to just their own kin. And I promise, I am not so kind now.

Now, I can only cry when my heart is broken. And broken hearts are not so common to a person like me. I only have fancies and fantasies.

Now, I can only kill and murder when I am injured. A murderer's fate is another murderer.

I will not be so kind now.

Proyekto

2006-08-25T19:51:00.000+08:00

I've already finished our project in Rizal.

Yey!!!

Now for the next project, Website.

Watch out for that soon!

Riddikulus

2006-08-24T23:42:00.000+08:00

Pre-Prelims week has come and go.

Prelims week has come and go.

Post-Prelims week has come...

Please help me. Every inch of my body hurts especially the one inside the skull. For two weeks I haven't got a single proper sleep!

Oh please end this misery!

I Should Have Been...

2006-08-20T12:54:00.000+08:00

You Should Be A Poet

You craft words well, in creative and unexpected ways.
And you have a great talent for evoking beautiful imagery...
Or describing the most intense heartbreak ever.
You're already naturally a poet, even if you've never written a poem.

What Type of Writer Should You Be?

New Keyboard

2006-08-18T20:07:00.000+08:00

First of all, I wasn't able to blog because my laptop's keyboard is malfunctioning.

It has now been replaced.

And I just love the sense of new touching the tips of my fingers.

So, here's the drift from last last week.

I already have a new phone. Wahhaah...I've been waiting for one for so long and finally! I've got a great phone (because a good phone means no 3.2 Megapixel Carl Zeiss lens that takes DVD-like quality videos)!

Well...that's it.

Foolish Heart

2006-07-23T17:14:00.001+08:00

(See Chenyl's post)

Once, as a child, I get to watch a lot of movies (foreign and local) featuring actors playing heavy life roles. These actors, playing a lawyer or a doctor, sometimes arouse me to what they were playing. So I asked the adults a very simple question and got a simple answer: doctors are good guys who make people healthy and lawyers keep criminals out of jail.

Shocked by the latter statement, I never once considered being a lawyer. Instead, the adults around me will tell me stories about doctors--what they do and how do they do it. Of course that question is hard to answer and I only have a limited set of books to know. These yearning for knowledge the doctors possessed insisted I should be a doctor to finally know the why and the how.

All that I thought even before grade school.

I was so impressed by doctors' role in society that I have been blinded with a bittersweet lie-cum-truth: without them we're left injured. So the yearning that was steadily growing has been infected with fortune-seeking heat. But my parents will tell me about their ideal doctor: kind, compassionate and understanding. So out of respect for my parents, I kindly excreted this heat--this love of expensive things (to a certain extent that's true!).

But now. After everything. After the tests. After the quake. After all this time.

Now. I may look like it but no, the feeling is gone.

Like when I took a test...I just want to get it over with. I don't care whether I pass. I just want it to be over.

Stranded

2006-07-19T21:32:00.000+08:00

Will I write anymore? Do I still have that license?

These are the questions which have plagued me for quite some time stemming from that darn cornball-excuse-for-a-school-paper, Ce Ese Jota, culminating from the shock of not having found our names in the list--and having insult added to injury: to be labeled nag-aaksaya ng panahon when I am reading the Greatest Piece of American Fiction in 25 Years, Beloved by Toni Morrison?

So what if I preferred reading Morrison from Zaide's Rizal? Do you mean I have to read this so I can gain knowledge?

Malakas ang bulong sa sigaw, Low words are stronger than loud words [emphasis mine].

Ang naglalakad ng marahan, matinik ma'y mababaw, He who walks slowly, though he may put his foot on a thorn, will not be hurt very much....

No wonder the state of Philippine Education, not to mention, the condition where some people usurp the places of the rightful translators (Low Words! Aahh! Loud Words! Aaah!), is in the mud.

Why God Granted Tears

2006-07-18T21:11:00.000+08:00

It's official. My dreams. Or DREAM (singular and capital), before, have been bruised, tortured and publicly humiliated.

My DREAM, as I have discovered before (or re-discovered) cannot exist plainly on social grounds (I do not want to comfort myself but I can't help it). The bruises, the marks of whips and nails; and the feeling of extreme embarassment are just a product of hypochondria.

But I really really really want to...

I really tried to be happy about it. I really tried to feel a little sad so that the feeling will be over soon. But it just can't. And I'm spending a lot of tears for this one.

And yes, the others count.

More Next...I have to brace myself for the worse...

All The Fun That I Can Muster

2006-07-12T23:00:00.000+08:00

Books have been my life for the past 8 years or so. Without my books I think I will never survive the adjustment phase of my college life. Without my books, I will not have this blog at all.

You see, the reason why I came to love writing, and the study of writing, are the results of reading "the Great Masters."

But the first reading experiences started with the Hardy Boys, Harry Potter, until finally I stumble, by social chance, upon the Lord of the Rings. Then I began to read the Great Masters, the Novelists of our Times, the Nobel Laureates. I became addicted to Nobel Winning Works: through my idle researches for new reads I've come to know fully the worth of John Steinbeck by reading his East of Eden and the Grapes of Wrath. I also became a Salinger fan: nobody and I mean nobody, can ever say, in front of me, that the Catcher in the Rye is without literary merits. Else I Murder you (notice the capitalized M bwahahah).

Until this search of finding satisfaction grew and grew into a private world. I can finally say, I HAVE A LIBRARY (3 Shelves and Counting...). At least, a mini-library.

But now, I have this to-read pile that's increasing geometrically before I entered my junior year. Right now it is under control (unless I can resist reading at the pile all at once). Cause: All textbooks first before leisure reading.

But the temptation to read and read and read happens to overcome me. Until the to-do list becomes unmanageable.

I'm not a vain bibliophile but I do love an increasing amount of books all the time and let me tell you...I HAPPEN TO TRY TO READ THEM...it's just that I either lack the time nor the "strength" to read a literary work (Must...finish...Nietszche...snork!!!).

Aside: Just after lunch, my classmate and I went to the famous Solidaridad bookstore in P. Faura. I was not expecting to find something most extraordinary...then I saw IT! F. Sionil Jose's Rosales Saga Boxed Set! AAAHH...Must Buy Books! I also saw The First Filipino by Leon Ma. Guerrero (interest in Rizal biography have been brought about by the dissatisfaction caused by Zaide's).

Then I asked the sales lady if I can have it signed. She said...sure (ARGH...I have no money back then...and I don't have my Po-On with me)....Ah! The cruelty of fate.

2006-07-08T20:41:00.000+08:00

Liu San Jie by Twelve Girls Band

Why?

2006-07-07T21:49:00.000+08:00

Nicole's post just got me thinking. The little grey cells stirred up in surprised mode: especially since I don't post anything that concerns me and any possible relationship/s.

Unless I enter into such a relationship, my relatives, my relatives' relatives, my relatives' friends and other Friendster-connected people will keep badgering me by way of a party-conversation starter,"May girlfriend ka na?"

Since I don't have one, I would say no. But if I said no, those people will ask me, "Bakit?" Then the conversation focuses on the boring events in my life mostly ending up "Finish your studies first before having any girlfriend."

So I would just smile with the sides of my mouth almost touching the tips of my eyes if it weren't for my chubby cheeks. Unlike the aforementioned situation, saying it with a smile shuts-up people for just about a minute or so (the longest would be probably 5 minutes which would eventually evolved into the dreaded aforementioned situation--so you'd just say "I'm going to the CR" after a minute and a half passes).

Sometimes, if I'm not in the mood, I would just shrug to say I don't feel like talking.

Sometimes, I pretend I did not hear the question and quickly walk-off to another table.

The "Do you have a girlfriend" question is one of those irritating things about being single. The other irritating things are 1) being teased about being single and 2) seeing those in a relationship
make soft love. Eww...I hate seeing anyone kissing in public. IT'S UNHYGIENIC!

Not that I'm bitter.

Being single has a lot of benefits too. More benefits I can only imagine:

1) Being single means getting to choose for yourself. The decisions and choices you make are entirely and primarily your own. You don't have to wait your precious other's approval. And if the decisions or choices you make are flawed then you only have to blame yourself. Which leads to depression and after a few sweets and laughters, just a speck of dust in the memory vault.

2) Being single means not having too weigh yourself by the look in your precious other's face. If your precious other's face says the shirt that you are wearing is tacky then you have no choice but to change it. But if you, yourself, saw that tacky shirt through a mirror you would probably just say "Ah...never mind!"

3) Being single means not having fights about trifles. I know it's cliche but I've been observing some couples and some apparently had fights about small things.

4) Being single means not having to face your precious other's face when she is crying. Do you really want to see someone cry? Or maybe you think its cute? Whatever.

5) Being single means not having your SMS inbox full of mushy messages about how your precious other loves you and your precious other's view your relationship.

6) Being single means you can go anywhere. No one will tell you what to do or where to go (hmm...sounds like our parents).

7) Being single means a lot of time for soul searching: life is not just an exploration of who your precious other is. Being single means a lot of time to devote yourself to anything you fancy and no one will tell you your devotion is silly.

8) Our single years are the only phase of our life where we are, in a way, free.

9) Being single is not being hypocritical. Some single persons out there are not ready for any commitments. Take note, not ready is very much different from cannot.

But these are my perceived benefits of being single so do shut-up when you say being in a relationship is being in heaven and that I'm wrong.

The Source of Bitter Sweet Chocolate

2006-07-05T11:37:00.000+08:00

The following is a pseudo-essay pseudo-epistolary pseudo-pseudo regarding the life cycle of an infinitesimal being as told by a spectator inside a body trapped for all eternity to live by the cliches of beingness.

I cannot start with a sweet voice and simply say Dear Diary. I am not being cynical nor other-worldly weird. Today is a day of tiredness and irritation. And that the Sun so easily reaches out to us and make us sweat at the start of a potentially beneficial day. And the surface, be it plastic, metal or wood, has been smudged by many hands. I regard myself victimized by conventionality. "I have to go to School", "I have to read for the Test", and other "I have to do..." blah that has been mistakenly labelled living for oneself for the others to live. Which is a part of a rule so established that to go against it is a crime not negligible. The question, anyway, is not what society thinks nor what society is or what kind.

The question that we should bother asking is How we are doing in this assigned society? Can the ability to exist without a violation of social norms now impossible in a dynamic society?

Well it depends. And I only can give a hint for an answer. Because I don't know.

----

How then a poem can be? It may be literal and figurative. It is figurative by being literal. It can be well written in content but can be awful in paper. It is a description of life. It is a description of self. It is a job of pen-lovers: the past time of those bored and the guilty pleasures of truth-lovers. A place where one can rejoice a broken love. A refuge of those who failed to find one in others.

What then does a poem inherit? The lovelessness of the unknown lover. The mind of a conscious thinker. The ignorance of a history. A world of connections. A world about disintegration. The world as is. The world that can be.

What now a poem is? It is the superfluous activities of self-proclaimed loners. A time spent for blankness. Mere ink wasted. A wasted mind's only grace. A crime of crying lovers.

BY ANONYMOUS

Superman

2006-07-02T23:05:00.000+08:00

Dahil alas-onse na at tinatamad na ko mag-isip at mag-type, magpipi-Filipino na lang ako (to the best of my abilities and vocabulary).

Scratch that...English na lang hehehe.

"Superman Returns" rocks! and Brian Singer is a watch-out-for director.

Superman, as long as I can remember, was the very first superhero I've ever known. I first saw it on ABC (I think) as a cartoon series. You know, those cheap cartoons with minimal movement (be it physical or vocal) just as if the comic panels were flashing scene-by-scene.

Which it is (now that I think of it...ehehe).

The second encounter with Superman was the movie with Christopher Reeves as the Man of Steel. I saw glimpses (yes! only glimpses) when there was this electronics and appliances events in Glorietta and I saw a big crowd watching on the yet-to-be-sold giant TV. I would normally felt embarassed to do that but for some reason I lingered.

After that, it was all Batman.

But thanks to "Superman Returns", I'll have a new addiction (specially when Harry Potter is about to end).

Before Reading...

2006-07-02T17:01:00.000+08:00

(ARGH! I'm going to fail Org Chem AAAA)

Your Scholastic Strength Is Deep Thinking

You aren't afraid to delve head first into a difficult subject, with mastery as your goal.You are talented at adapting, motivating others, managing resources, and analyzing risk.
You should major in:
PhilosophyMusicTheologyArtHistoryForeign language

What Should You Major In?

You are a Believer

You believe in God and your chosen religion.Whether you're Christian, Muslim, Jewish, or Hindu..Your convictions are strong and unwavering.You think your religion is the one true way, for everyone.

What's" Your Religious Philosophy?

Your Career Type: Artistic

You are expressive, original, and independent.Your talents lie in your artistic abilities: creative writing, drama, crafts, music, or art.
You would make an excellent:
Actor - Art Teacher - Book Editor Clothes Designer - Comedian - Composer Dancer - DJ - Graphic DesignerIllustrator - Musician - Sculptor
The worst career options for your are conventional careers, like bank teller or secretary.

What's" Your Ideal Career?

You are a Black Coffee

At your best, you are: low maintenance, friendly, and adaptable
At your worst, you are: cheap and angsty
You drink coffee when: you can get your hands on it
Your caffeine addiction level: high

What Kind of Coffee Are You?

Erotic Thriller

You've made your own rules in life - and sometimes that catches up with you.Winding a web of deceit comes naturally, and no one really knows the true you.
Your best movie matches: Swimming Pool, Unfaithful, The Crush

If Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?

Ninteeieth Century

2006-06-29T21:00:00.000+08:00

You read that right.

According to sources, Mr. Short-Squat-Guy-In-Glasses-Who-Speak-Funny-English was not confined to a mental hospital. Instead, the authorities at the institution where he teaches tried out an old cure: humoring him. According to witnesses, he was heading to his class, the same class where he emphasized over and over again that the 19th century was over when Rizal was only 4 months old, and got lost. He was already on the other side when the class, fearing he might go berserk anytime, assisted him back to the right classroom.

According to a member of the class, "We were laughing our heads off but we feared he might magwala if we didn't help him." The student also added, "He really looks old you know."

The animalistic attitude of the mentally-ill teacher the other day did a lot of influence in the institution. Fearing that his strings might be plucked the wrong way, the class involved humored him by participating in his make-shift class: Rizal ended the nineteenth century when he was just four months old; ninteenth is pronounced as nineteeieth; the textbook is infallible and research means pleasing his reading comprehension.

"I want to emphasize that we are not lagging far behind the educational roundtable by letting Mr. (expletive...err...real name deleted) to remain teaching here," says Dean Abellano. He adds, "We are just implementing the recommended medical action by Professors Grecediebano Pandolino Arjue Mussa E. Ditze and MacConkey Zeke Barney Avantes."

The said professors' comments were mentioned the other day.

Somewhere in the Atmospheric Continuum

2006-06-28T20:50:00.000+08:00

Tadadadan...part 2 of Why I'm crazy about the 12 Girls Band:

Flower in the World

When is the 19th Century?

2006-06-27T23:01:00.000+08:00

NEWS FLASH: A teacher of Rizal in one of the prestigious universities in the Philippines was recently forced out of his teaching position and has been committed to the funny farms in Mandaluyong. The teacher, who shall now be known as Mr. Short-Squat-Guy-In-Glasses-Who-Speak-Funny-English insisted in a class of science majors that the 19th century ended when Jose Rizal, National Hero, was only four months old. Mr. Short-Squat-Guy-In-Glasses-Who-Speak-Funny-English blew his brains off (which according to some of the witnesses, literally) and had molested every bit of the students...er...students'...patience.

"He came blasting through the door (though at first we didn't notice because he is so small!) and blahed about the books," said one distressed young man, a victim of corrupted brains.

"Oh...that thing...I mean our prof...is like a woman...I think it's his first period (editors: no pun intended)" said a bony woman of 18, a member of the class of science majors.

Mr. Short-Squat-Guy-In-Glasses-Who-Speak-Funny-English, according to sources, used up 50 percent of the time blowing the remains of his used brain. The other half stressing the first half used.

Mr. Short-Squat-Guy-In-Glasses-Who-Speak-Funny-English, apparently, has aged in the institution. The repeated recommendation of the textbook in Rizal Course has allegedly destabilized the thinking capacity of the teacher:

"Ze brein of ze teacher combined with ze repeated use of ze zame book haz apparently szcrambled ze old professor," says Prof. Ditze, a visiting professor of psychology from Germany, with a PhD in Botany, Chemistry, and Cosmetology.

"YEeesss...IT IS TRUE! Precisely!" affirmed by a good friend of Prof. Ditze, Prof. Avantes who took his doctoral degree in Germany. "IT IS the WOrk of MIcrobiological CREAtures hidden in the deceptive newsprint! (nodding to reporter) PRECISELY!"

When the different faculty in the same institution were asked for their opinions, although varied, were essentially the same--the teacher is crazy. Such opinions has affected the life in the concerned institution:

(Putting on and testing the portable mic) "Waiyt...waiyt....(now banging his mic on the table)...waiyt...waiyt...(BANG BANG)...OH DAMN IT! I'LL GIVE YOU HELL (to reporter),"says a slim man who walks like Mary Poppins.

end of part 1

Dear Readers, part 2 will follow soon. I'm still waiting for an interview with Mr. Short-Squat-Guy-In-Glasses-Who-Speak-Funny-English inside the Mental institution.

Why I'm Crazy...

2006-05-27T19:25:00.000+08:00

about the 12 Girls Band:

1. Mountains and Rivers

2. Alamuhan

3. Shangri-La

4. New Classicism

5. Reel Around the Sun (from Riverdance)

6. Freedom

7. Carnival

8. Miracle

9. Dun Huang

10. Ruten

Da Vinci Code Rant

2006-05-22T18:24:00.000+08:00

WARNING: Completely bias and subjective. Contains stuff that may be considered bigotry by the Dan Brown...uhm...experts.

The movie was boring and I hated Tom Hanks' performance. Loved Audrey Tautou's (sp?) beautiful face and Sir Ian McKellen's performance (as always).
I hate the hype.
It is actually offensive. Some people would say "it's only fiction" crap and if you don't agree to their...uhm..."Point of View" you'll be labeled narrow-minded.
Taking a stance in support of the Church is also considered bias and narrow-minded.
A.O. Scott says the movie is boring. Trust him!
Holy Blood and Holy Grail, Woman with the Alabaster Jar etc. are questionable sources--do not readily believe the claims of those New Age trash.
The same goes for the Gnostic "gospels".
From a Jesuit Priest on the gospel of Judas: "It was trash then, it is trash now."
WTF are the New Age crap doing in our bookstores?
Trash begets more trash.
Dan Brown's books are cheap fiction.
I regretted buying the DVC, A&D hardcovers. Especially the DVC h/c illustrated. Argh! Who want's to buy it?
Speaking out against DVC and Dan Brown is not a negative thing neither it is an ethical mistake.
Hyped-up and overrated.

THUD!

2006-05-14T20:33:00.000+08:00

The World from Here: money and cars-cars and money. But that's not everything. The World from Here looks just like what men have done this past few years--a big market place. And I--I'm just a hired person--specifically forced--to give out brochures telling about how my society is civilized. And how I fit in it by giving out those glossy brochures. An introduction to lives.

Evening and I'm forced not to retire. My muscles in my lower extremities are shaking. Quivering. I tried to go upstairs to my room. THUD! My head hurts.

I fell from downstairs and I cannot walk.

A true story.

More Hatred

2006-05-05T22:22:00.000+08:00

Apparently, I caught up in the controversy a month late.

But that doesn't mean I don't "hate" them anymore.

Hatred

2006-05-05T22:09:00.000+08:00

Freedom-Liberties...blah...kaput...read why:

“The pictures are only one small part of the March edition. Indeed, the entire issue is replete with the most egregious examples of hate speech targeted at Christians. For example, there are several cartoons of Jesus—including Jesus crucified—that are so gratuitously offensive that only the most depraved would defend them. Moreover, the two opinion pieces against Catholicism are patently malicious. That all of this appeared in a student newspaper, during Lent, on the campus of a state institution, makes one wonder what is going on at the University of Oregon.

So you ask: Why would they do that?

“This explosion of hate speech was a response to a decision reached by one of the Insurgent’s rivals, the Commentator, to publish the 12 Danish cartoons that recently so inflamed the Muslim world. An Insurgent editorial said that because the Commentator published depictions of Muhammad so as to ‘provoke dialogue,’ they had a right to thrash Christians as a way of provoking dialogue.

Well...that's logical....

And oh, read the following:

“Given all this, it is so disingenuous for President Frohnmayer to claim that he is impotent to act. He didn’t even have the moral decency to publicly condemn the decision by David Goward, Program Director of the Associated Students of the University of Oregon, who—after meeting with a university attorney—said the Insurgent need not apologize nor refrain from Catholic bashing again.”

Ugh.

More from The Catholic League

Jesus have mercy on us and unto the whole world. Amen.

What Boredom Did

2006-04-28T15:36:00.000+08:00

I won't say that everything appearing in my oh-so sweet rose pink glasses is as boring as Prito-for-Sunday-Lunch: because my mom cooks on Sundays therefore eliminating hunger in my stomach's own world (yes, it's got a brain of its own).

Instead, the monotony of facing the boob tube (no double-meaning here) and going down-and-up like a personal mantra is what destroy the meaningfulness of a summer vacation.

I can't even go into a movie because my friends are having summer classes! And judging from several experiences, going to the movie alone is a very horrible thing.

But it is old fashioned to say: "I am sooo... bored!" I did have things to do that at least makes a summer-vacation experience.

Say, reading. Of course I don't need anything to explain in the realms of why and what because, after all, I am a bibliomaniac. I've just finished Spiral and Loop (parts 2 and 3 of the Ring) by Koji Suzuki which felt like reading a manga but, all the same, a fun read. Got reading the classics again,: I'm almost finish reading Jane Eyre and on to read another Nobel winner, Boris Pasternak's Doctor Zhivago. I'm also in the short story craze. During the last school year up to now, I've collected volumes of short stories such as Alice Munro's Runaway, Telling Tales which was edited by Nadine Gordimer and featuring the works of established writers such as Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Kenzaburo Oe and James Joyce's Dubliners. But what volume that got me hooked all the time, probably for the rest of my life, is "The Short Stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald." I loved the stories so much that it has the honor of being the only book I brought with me to Pangasinan for this year. Usually I bring detective stories or pop fiction but Fitzgerald is "unputdownable" (sp?).

Another foray into Literature is through Elizabeth Bishop's collection of unedited proofs, drafts and other poems almost published by EB. Reading a few of the poems (because I am trying to finish Jane Eyre) is quite a refreshing experience: in the volume, you'll be reading EB's poems which are quite unusual compared to those in the Complete Poems (of course, that is my very personal opinion). Whether majority (or all) of the poems are erotic, well, I still have to judge by reading the book thoroughly. Of course, I can't digest the idea that EB wrote a bad poem--to me, even if you say I'm prejudiced, all are very beautiful poems (I really need to have a degree in Literature).

This year I actually enjoyed the trip to Pangasinan. Usually I would feel so bored while there but I figured I could have fun in the province: all I need is to "join the fun" (pardon the seeming redundancy). And of course, the food is great especially the bangus and with padas (a sort of bagoong).

I'm currently addicted (a higher form of being-hooked) to Apologetics. Though I am not in any way an apologist, I enjoy reading Catholic Answers and Jimmy Akin and also the podcast of the Catholic Answers Q&A. I once thought I almost know everything about my faith with the help of Theology classes-but then again that's what I thought. Read Jimmy Akin at http://www.jimmyakin.org/ and for some "good-humor" pictures of the Pope (see Benedict XVI drinking beer and John Paul II making a "funny face" for a picture) and the Cardinals visist http://www.americanpapist.org.

I also have mixed feelings for the upcoming Da Vinci Code movie: I want to see it because I've read the book and I liked to see what Hollywood envisioned it; but by watching it, I am helping in the promotion of the movie which will likely increase the population of ignorant people who actually believes the book.

Now you know what got me to Apologetics-it's all the fault of the Da Vinci Code hype.

Another thing which currently occupies most of my time is preparing for the Motor Parts Fair. My parents drafted me into making our shops' brochure and I must say everything is going well. Hope I can say the same for our yearbook.

And finally, ending this entry is a good-bad news: Our shop won the National Shopper's Choice for Japan Surplus seller (National Level) which can be labeled as the good news; bad news is they're asking for PHP 16,000 to pay for the trophy and advertisement. Some prize.

Once Upon A Time: A Story

2006-03-29T18:10:00.000+08:00

The door was slammed shut. And it didn't make a sound. Only the casual secretive way of closing a door as if to confide someone inside the room.

I can only imagine what veritable knowledge they're passing in the room, as if, like the movies about natives, they're passing a traditional wine in one cup and everybody is required to drink in the very same cup. Else if you refuse and drink in your own cup may only result in disrespect and consequently, death.

It's making me crazy. Trying to find out about the small orgy's activities inside the clandestine fort.

Sometimes I can hear sounds. Human sounds saying the this and the that and anything else. But I cannot comprehend. The words inside the room, now getting louder--and faster. As if you were required to read Faulkner or Dante or Hume in 5-10 minutes. But one thing is absolute--something "bad" or "evil" is going on inside that room.

Morning. Very Early. I hear the sounds again. And maybe because of the early hour, the people inside were not shouting. Sure I still hear raised voices but it's not just the same--you can't feel anything--for now.

I longed to understand these voices. What are they? And what are they talking about?

Will I be permitted to know these voices?

Ako rin

2006-03-25T19:33:00.000+08:00

Me too...er three. Anyway, the end of classes as always will only mean one thing--the start of summer plans.

And the disappointments coming with it (Those plans aren't working anyway).

Again, anyway, like what Chen and Girlie did, I'm going to make a list of what I want to have or to do this summer:

Read- It's not that I'm a walking library, it's just that it's tradition that I read 5 or more books during the summer (I only finished about 6 last summer). Right now, I'm engaged with non-fiction. I've recently finished In Cold Blood by Truman Capote. I'm currently out of words for his account of the Clutter Family murders. It's so fluid. So natural for the eye and the mouth to follow Capote's writing style. IT'S JUST SO GOOD that I'm going to violate what the critics have always made known as a mortal sin--to directly recommend it to anyone whom I know even if they're just a light acquaintance. Tsk, I can't help digressing. But I know what I'm gonna read this summer--award winners especially Nobel winning works.
Buy- Nope, I'm not a big spender (sigh, it's true ehehehe) but there are some things I really really want to buy like a boxed set of Homer's works, the Annotated Sherlock Holmes set (for the complete set, I have to splurge 5K--yikes!), an original Lord of the Rings dvd-pc game, 40's-60's movies in DVD, Narnia and Capote DVD, a new cellphone, a digital SLR camera and a whole lot more that I can only materialize in my most wildest and orginal dreams...(this is getting to be a wishlist ehheeh)
Watch- I'm getting to be a movie nut. I just watched V for Vendetta last Thursday and I was so impressed with Hugo Weaving's performance (and at least, I gave a little praise to the incorporation of a political philosophy--violence as the only way to be free). He's so darn good with "speaking" such that he can "appear" in a 2-hour movie with just a mask. Take for example these lines from the movie:
“This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is itvestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished,as the once vital voice of the verisimilitude nowvenerates what they once vilified. However, thisvalorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, standsvivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venaland virulent vermin van-guarding vice andvouchsafing the violently vicious and voraciousviolation of volition. The only verdict isvengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not invain, for the value and veracity of such shall oneday vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers mostverbose vis-à-vis an introduction, and so it is myvery good honor to meet you and you may call me V.”

Try saying that for a few times.

Swim- I don't need to explain. It is the summer time after all.
Explore- Go to Ilocos, to Cavite, to Batangas, to Pangasinan. Anywhere but Makati/Manila--I'm getting tired! Ah! But I need a good camera ehehehe.
Laugh and Cry- I need to be with friends. I need to talk to them about stuff. I need to go with them to anywhere else I die of boredom.
Sleep- With the hell I experienced last week (the Finals week) I really need some good rest. And sleep is all I can afford.
Practice- How am I gonna use the Honda if I have no license yet? Worse, how am I gonna have license if I forgot how to drive?
Learn- I need to learn something this summer. I can't wait to study Spanish or to study for NMAT or learning more about Photoshop and Premiere.
Clean- My room that is. Early in the morning I decided to clean my room and boy, there were a lot of dirt.
Play- Smash, volley. At Peregrine badminton courts. Play for only PHP 50.00 from 8 am to 5 pm. Wanna play? Contact me.
Reflect- Filipino summer is a solemn summer (There's the Holy Week too you know).

So that's it. I wish I could accomplish this pseudo-wish-list summer list.

Major English

2006-03-20T19:03:00.000+08:00

You scored as English. You should be an English major! Your passion lies in writing and expressing yourself creatively, and you hate it when you are inhibited from doing so. Pursue that interest of yours!

Theater

100%

English

100%

Linguistics

92%

Philosophy

92%

Journalism

75%

Sociology

75%

Dance

67%

Anthropology

67%

Art

67%

Psychology

58%

Biology

58%

Chemistry

58%

Engineering

58%

Mathematics

50%

What is your Perfect Major? (PLEASE RATE ME!!<3)
created with QuizFarm.com

Unexpected

2006-02-24T22:51:00.000+08:00

Here's for a good immediate tomorrow.
_____________________________________________

Unexpected

So suddenly one breathes
As is our nature, our choices
In meaningless phrases, lives
Our created desires, humbling
Us in every corner, creating
A world full of selves, hiding
In even darker corners, reeking
Of death and time, ignoring
The This-and-That, melting
Our now useless bodies, seething,
Some minds would like to protest, thinking
On the very most absurd—ridiculing
A money-less future, vainly seeking
For a new beauty in a foreign country.

That. And that is all.

Mr. Lonely

2006-02-19T22:21:00.000+08:00

I’m lost can you help me?
I’m in a rut but it doesn’t seem to be.
Can you help me?
No. I don’t need money.
All I’m asking is if you will help me.
You see I was lost for I don’t know how many hours now.
I maybe having amnesia but I’m quite aware what happened.
You see I’m lost. I have been lost for how many hours now.
It’s not amnesia. I know what happened.
You see, a while ago, a man passed me by and slaps me in the face.
I got mad and punched him.
He sneers at me with his bleeding nose.
And he said: “You’re lost.”
I’m quite aware what happened.
So will you help me?
Just find someone who keeps finding me.
It’s actually quite easy.
I’ve been shouting the whole time whether someone was looking for me.
I’m hungry now. Will you spare some time and money?
For someone seemingly lost.
Yes, I’ve no money. That and I’m lost.
I’m miserable because I’m lost.
I’m miserable because I don’t know who or what will find me.
Besides, for the time being, you’ve found me.

Abandoned

2006-02-12T15:04:00.000+08:00

So what would one say when nothing is to be said? When something's left but just left-overs, one would probably feel depressed, alone and insignificant. One doesn't even know what one is currently doing typing away his headaches. Sometimes, one will feel physically pained--neck hurting with veins throbbing and with one's insides of the head trying to get out. Waiting for someone to break it open. One's senseless digression is enough to convict one, well, weird. Not that there's any written criteria. But one could easily judge someone to be weird. And the definition of weird, if not soaked in cliches, is botched by ever-dynamic forces of so-called contemporary culture. One, who is supposedly acting worldly, would have the unwritten and unanimous credibility to label one weird. Not knowing the reciprocality of the event, that is, one is weird as much as one is labeled weird. But there is a limitation towards the definition and identification of weirdness. And this limit is safely bounded by normality. That is, one is not beyond the limits of being able to think and act properly. If one is abnormal, then the label "weird" is not anymore valid. Crazy or mentally ill is proper. Whereas weird is reserved for people who have retained a sense of normality such that one would not hit his or her neighbor for no reason at all, or dance naked or any such act not belonging to normality.

Well...that's it for now. One is called to one's responsibility.

Achtung!

2006-01-29T21:15:00.000+08:00

The prelims week have gone and go. Mostly on my mind it was set to go like a raging bus. Sigh! I feel depressed whenever I think of my test. They're like personality and self-confidence killers. Grrr.... I'm just tired ok! So forgive my digression. Luckily, the badminton activity wasn't postponed. I really need to rebuild myself. That's why I got rid of "things." Things that either permit me to be immoral or hinder me from being an ordinary person. Cliche. Yes. Truth. Yes. I've been addicted to different stuff the past week: Imago, Eraserheads, FRANK SINATRA, contemporary fiction, metaphysical fiction (that reads PAUL AUSTER), cleaning, papers and the internet (a most abnormal "liking" to be in front of the computer browsing nothing). Abnormal. Definitely. What I mostly want to do is think of things and write something weird about them. It's not the normal "inspiration" for a writer. Because what I'm feeling is neither an inspiration nor sickness. And of course, I'm not a writer...of a certain caliber anyway.

What I feel doing now is read read read read read. But when I get hold of the book. POOF! Suddenly, I'm losing interest to even lift a page. Anyway, I'm currently torn into two sides of written works: fiction and non-fiction. For fiction, I have my heart set on finding the right book to take with me during the field trip to Ilocos. I'm deciding whether to take pop fiction for a fast and action-packed read like Robert Parker, Dean Koontz, Stephen King or take fiction as in literary fiction like Alice Munro, Edith Wharton, Nadine Gordimer or Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I'm also bordering on Edna St. Vincent Millay and Elizabeth Bishop (otherwise known, quoting from Fran Drescher as Fran Fine on meeting Barbara Streisand in an episode of The Nanny) "My spiritual leader."

Okay okay. That's overexaggerating things. But for someone who wants to read something different, something that's un-cliche, something that's different from love-strucked modern poets...just read Elizabeth Bishop. I have no words to describe her nor to her poems. One thing's for sure they're all GREAT (a book reviewer commenting on the to-be published papers of EB said it would be a big surprise reading a bad Bishop poem--is there any bad Bishop poem anyway?). I sure would like to tell you all about EB but I'm no literary critic. All I know is, from reading her poems and her short prose, I have read one of the greatest poet in the world, in all time (I would like again to reiterate that I'm no literary critic) --perhaps, at the very least, equal to Emily Dickinson.

Digressing again...sorry...that's all I can think of for now.

By the way, I hope (in a certain way) that you're at least interested in Elizabeth Bishop so here's a link to get you started:
http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/7

Whatever Happened to Nancy K. Stouffer?

2005-11-18T20:58:00.000+08:00

Apparently, no movie adaptation.

But her rival--by "profession"--just had her fourth book turned into a whomping two-hours-and-thirty-minute movie.

J.K. Rowling's Goblet of Fire movie adaptation opens this week and tells about Harry Potter in his fourth year in Hogwarts. Apparently, the trend in reviewing a movie is to tell a summarized version of the story.

I won't give you that. I know 9 out of 10 people have read it. The other...just half finished.

The first three movies were okay. This movie, directed by Brit Mike Newell, is a lot better. The problem with the first two movies (SS and CoS) were good but the choppy scenes fail to give it a feel of unity and coherence (it's like what Saicho said: Columbus' just showing parts of the main story). The third movie, directed by Mexican Alfonso Cuaron (who also directed A Little Princess), was the start of the series to be elevated to a higher genre. The feeling of chopped-up scenes were eliminated by Cuaron (a movie review attributed it to the cinematographer whose name escaped me) and shots and the fading-away to new scenes were good. It was an eyecandy, so to speak. However, some say that the movie was just messy. A friend of mine complained that she didn't understood it (since she hadn't read the book), but (BEWARE: BIASED!) I'm not the least disturbed about it since I've read the book for four times even before that movie came out. Another thing about the movie is the role of Dumbledore being played by the British actor Michael Gambon. Gambon is a great actor but he does not exude Dumbledore's fatherly, friendly and mischievous personality. They should've given the role to Ian McKellen (Girlie, don't kill me, I still think he's going to do well playing Dumbledore).

Heck, the third movie was the only one I bought in original DVD.

Don't worry I'm going to have those two movies for Christmas. Knock...knock...gifts please! (heheheeh)

Now let's turn to the fourth movie. Well, all I can say is that it's great. But I feel that there's a lot of scenes, if not deleted, condensed. I was particularly shocked at how short the Quidditch world cup would be but I think it was sufficient for the movie. Hey, turning a fat book into a movie isn't so easy! What made the movie great was the Triwizard Tournament. I especially liked the first task. And the third task, well, I think Newell intended for us to feel a looming doom which was proven true when Diggory and Harry arrived at the site of the trophy and then transported to the graveyard where Voldemort's waiting.

Daniel Radcliffe improved a lot. He's living my (and my friends') expectation to be Harry. He was very convincing at the end of the movie: the way he screamed when Wormtail took flesh and blood to be offered to Voldemort; when he was tortured by the Cruciatus curse; and when he cried a lot when he and Cedric's body returned to Hogwarts. I wonder how he'll act to be the angsty Harry Potter in the OotP movie adaptation.

Another scene that made me in awe was the crowd's cheer when Harry and Cedric's body returned. I think that "crowd" embodies our (readers and non-readers) hope that maybe Cedric's not dead at all. It was touching when Diggory Senior cried at Cedric's lifeless body.

Ralph Fiennes was probably the best actor in the movie. He was very effective in being the Dark Lord. The part where he challenges Harry to a traditional Wizard's Duel was ...damn...I'm out of laud-words! It seems as though he's carrying the whole scene. Damn...I want to see more of him being a villain (I already watched Red Dragon...he was pretty villainy in that movie).

Of course, I still don't like Michael Gambon. Nobody could replace Richard Harris. But Ian McKellen could've delivered it at the same power as Harris'.

But I feel the movie's a still bit short. I was really expecting Lord of the Rings length. But its for the kids who have those short attention span.

Well...what can I say? I loved the movie. And I'm going to watch it again tomorrow.

By the way, Mike Newell is also making a movie adaptation of Gabriel Garcia Marquez's Love in the Time of Cholera. GGM's one of my favorite authors...let's see if Newell's going to do justice to his work the way he did justice to Rowling's.

Final note. We're going to watch December Boys and see Daniel Radcliffe live out of the Harry Potter movies.