The Top Baby Names of 2007

By the BabyCenter editorial staff

What happened in baby names in 2007? The results are in: Emma has finally been knocked off its number one perch for the first time since it landed there in 2004! Sophia has been making steady progress since 2002, cracked the top 10 in 2005, and jumped six slots to be the new number one baby name for 2007.

Addison jumped a whopping 20 spots this year to land in the top 10 — no doubt thanks to flame-haired actress Kate Walsh's portrayal of Dr. Addison Montgomery-Shepherd on the hot TV series "Grey's Anatomy" and its spin-off, "Private Practice."
In boys' baby names, Aiden still rules, as it has since 2005. But Jayden, Caden, and Jackson have jumped quickly into the top 10 this year and are the new rising stars.

And here they are, in order: The BabyCenter® Top Baby Names of 2007

Top 10 Girl Names:
Sophia
Isabella
Emma
Madison
Ava
Addison
Hailey
Emily
Kaitlyn
Olivia

Top 10 Boy Names:
Aiden
Ethan
Jacob
Jayden
Caleb
Noah
Jackson
Jack
Logan
Matthew

(Oh, i knew it!)

thanks to: MSN LIFESTYLE

on living and leaving (part2)

kurt kobain. freddie mercury. marilyn monroe. princess diana. yes, they were all famous... and dead for years now. what ties them all is that they all died at the height of their careers, when they were the masters of the center stage, when they owned the lime light, when everybody loved them, and when they had all what it takes to feel human.

i want to die on a christmas season. i may sound too selfish and pathetic but i can not think of any other moment better that this. i know nature has taught man that one could not really choose his death day, unless he commits suicide, of course. so spare me from stones as i let myself state my own ideal dying season.

it is mostly during the cold december that people feel loved and special. gifts flushing into your house, greetings clogging in airwaves, and friends, those you've known ever since you said your first hello to the earth, coming into sight, and making you feel important, remembered, cherished - is there anything more you can ask for? you feel great, you feel loved, you feel more than what the great dead people felt. what happens after life, you know no more, but what matters is that you keep those memories with you and preserve them like a jar of fragrant kisses which, while the grownups fooled us, multiply into thousand sweet little memories.

i can't think of spending another year with those love messages diminishing like decaying trees and being thrown into a state where they were totally lost and out of my grasp. i love the philosophy of freud but i reserve my regards to jung as his philosophy conforms with my claim. the swiss psychologist once uttered, "ultimately, the self is fully realised in death..." and i can't help but agree.

death it is the last enemy i have to conquer, and a friend when it defeats me.

they died long before their names get dragged by nonsensical controversies and before they themselves ruin them with frantic acts. it took them years to build their reputation and death stopped the people from staining them. now who will say they ever died?

on living and leaving (part1)

i saved this in my drafts folder sometime in november, but i don't know how to end it now. my drive has grown short for this one:


hot talks about life has been very stimulating on brains and spirits alike. lucky am i to be surrounded by extraordinary intellectuals whose brains give me more than my daily need for cerebral supplement. i'm not talking about persons alone. books are also geniuses - they are far more than what the mouth can speak.

what visits me often these days are my endless questions about life - how we live (and do we really live?) at the moment and why people are dying for the future. talking about things like this has been a trend when taking our meals after classes or even in drinking sessions... or even when doing the self-talk.

questions come as to why humans are so obsessed with planning carefully for the future that they almost forget how to live the "now". nobody wakes up one morning and tells that that day is the future of his yesterday. then why do we still bother? we never really get to hold our future. it is intangible. abstract. illusion.

everybody who has been to school could remember that some years ago, our teachers asked us how we would be ten years from that time. imagine that this is your tenth year after making that seatwork. what happened? you are still looking forward to another ten years. we can't help but think of tomorrow. we study to have a "bright future" (excuse to the BOOBtifuls), to have a good job; then we work, again, for the future. we are missing half of all the good things life offers. we forget to greet the beautiful sunhine as we hurry down the bathroom. we ignore the relaxing sound and smell of the morning because we are too vexed of the ticking clock as it whirls its way into our eardrums and bangs our brain. we prevent ourselves from getting those things we really want because we need to save for tomorrow; then we do resent when everything is gone.

there are some small things we care not to sumbit ourselves into - the passion of living for the "now".


style ni sir emer:
--------------------------nothing follows-------------------

(pagaya, sir...) akin:
-------------------------something will follow-------------------

for joseinne

leaves fall like manna from heaven, but your silence slammed the tips of my nerves... the depth of your eyes told me your story... something you yourself cannot tell... the only thing you cannot write...


how when talks least essential
my mouth drieth of toil
when actions least intended
my limbs jerked in distress

ye who encompass the extremes of both worlds
too vague for them to understand;
who struggles with a naked arm,
how, then, can a breath weave ages?

for the fruits of earth all drieth for bliss
an unborn child cries over his first and last torment
for the world to hear the whispers of thy wind
silence is all i can give

on that lower "kingdom"

thanks to joseinne. at least, now i have an idea where i'm heading to. haha!


The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Seventh Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	Moderate
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Moderate
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	High
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Low
Level 7 (Violent)	Very High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Moderate

Take the Dante's Inferno Test


anyway, think this isn't that accurate.

yes i personally don't believe/sumbit myself into confession. however our theology classes taught us its why's and how's, still it didn't work (don't throw stones at me please). ok, it said very low.

i can only think of one personal question about food. something like if i was eating at restaurants several times a week... well, no not at restaurants but fastfoods, yes. where else can we do when we're not at home? whatever kind and preparation of food, still we pay for them, even at canteens.

violent=very high?! ok, no comment. well, questions were about violence on one's self. don't think i'm harmful, for godsake...

fraudulent? yes i'm a good liar. but i don't forge documents. i'm not into selling social security numbers we get from credit card applicants. well, just think how rich i can be if i'm one.

treacherous? well, i've already said. i'm a good liar.

and everything else-- i think i must agree. :)

PANAWAGAN

bagong libro ni eros atalia-- "PEKSMAN mamatay ka man, nagsisinungaling ako"

mga bagay-bagay na kapansin-pansin na hindi natin napapansin, o hindi lang talaga natin pinapansin.


before anything else, please give me back my Taguan Pung book...

the sons of war

children walking barefoot
soles feasting on shrapnels and fragments

city painted with blood

a dirty race, all heading to
boundaries separating silence from war

hands reach out for a beloved
not strong enough even for one's self

everybody is running
tired of killing each other
on a murderous trip to the summit

a thin thread of hope
no room for a single soul

dreams crashing to the ground
as each falls lifeless

way too far from salvation
too distant from God's embrace

on(e) (h)our faith

there was this exhibit in Thomas Aquinas Research Center (TARC) our professor in theology asked us to visit when we were in our second year. it was - if my memory serves me well - about Islamic soteriology and interreligious conferences, promoting unity among churches or religions.

i did not feel anything when i first set foot on the exhibit area, not until i saw pictures of children in different occasions professing faith. they stole my attention that i began studying their faces, expressions, poses, and details on how they appeared in the pictures. some were so attentive that one could really feel their devotion... and some were not. i started wondering if those little angels were completely aware of what they were doing or if they were just there for the sake of taking part in their rites.

religion is one issue i find complex and delicate when being discussed. much as it is perplexing, it is ultimately interesting and liberating at the same time.

but have we really asked ourselves if we fit right into that religion we belong to? in the first place, we did not choose it. rather, we wholeheartedly embraced what the grownups believed and followed what they did. they went to churches and we were with them, tugged tight, thinking we might get lost into what they introduced to us as our real home. they joined in prayer meetings and we were also there singing, waving our little hands in the air, clapping to death just like what everyone else did, regardless of whether or not we really knew what we were doing. we were taught how to pray and we took our daily dose of Biblical quotes and parables. we were dragged during sleepy saturday or sunday mornings or any day they deemed as worship day, then we slept and played inside the house of praise. punishments would follow right after we got back to our houses. those were the things we lived by; then we started calling ourselves religious.

but however we create the thought that religion is imposed, it is still dependent on one's orientation. freedom of religion was literally translated as that in which one has the right to practice one's religion within reasonable legal parameters. but if we look at it blunt and dry as a legal aspect, then we slowly move away from its sanctity. it is just as if we consider it as a plain constitutional right.

still, human knowledge knows no limit. the more we know, the more we ask, and the farther we get away from our faith. one word leads to another- off to a long and winding quest.

innocent as they were, those children in the pictures were a bold manifestation of authentic faith - that which did not ask but believed. there's no intention of saying that all we need to do is nod, accept and believe what we are being fed. i just had a different feeling when i saw those children whom i think had faith stronger than what we have, regardless of the what and the why... then i tried to remember if i did the same when i was a kid.

i also found it interesting when i saw a book about who Jesus and Mary were in the Koran, though i was not able to leaf through its pages. comments were suspended until i get the chance to read the book.

:::thanks to www.2muslims.com for the pic

el cielo

clouds are there to remind us that there are still things unreachable my human alone...

superstar

the last time i saw you shining
in the distance i know no more

your eyes, all the same
you still capture me with the slightest wink

that same smile you used to heed
stirs me up just like before... puzzled...

i admit nobody matches your shine
not even the moonlight is half as good...
you still have it with one glance,
and everything else shatters

just like the ocean as it tries to steal
the moon, a gap so impossible to bridge...
a silent prayer in the ear of a dying infant

you are an unreachable star
something not made for me... my limit... my own share of torment...

for months i tried to sing my last verses
tired. giving up. i almost lost my appetite for life

but time has brought me to my senses again
it mat be too late but i learned
nothing can be more impossible than make-believe

we all love music

poetry goes hand-in-hand with music. we don't just love music because of its sound, but of meaning, memories, life... how it knocks your soul, how it enters your body and soothes you... simply irresistable...

Moscas en la Casa Shakira mis dias sin ti son tan oscuros tan largos tan grises mis dias sin ti mis dias sin ti son tan absurdos tan agrios tan duros mis dias sin ti mis dias sin ti no tienen noches si alguna aparece es inutil dormir mis dias sin ti son un derroche las horas no tienen principio, ni fin Coro: tan faltos de aire tan llenos de nada chatarra inservible basura en el suelo moscas en la casa mis dias sin ti son como un cielo sin lunas plateadas ni rastros de sol mis dias sin ti son solo un eco que siempre repite la misma cancion Coro: tan faltos de aire tan llenos de nada chatarra inservible basura en el suelo moscas en la casa pateando las piedras aun sigo esperando que vuelvas conmigo aun sigo buscando en las caras de ancianos pedazos de niño cazando motivos que me hagan creer que aun me encuentro con vida mordiendo mis uñas ahogandome en llanto extrañandote tanto mis dias sin ti como duelen mis dias sin ti

Flies in the House my days without you are so dark, so long, so gray, my days without you my days without you are so absurd, so bitter, so tough, my days without you, my days without you don't have nights, if someone appears, it's useless to sleep, my days without you are an excess, the hours don't have a beginning, or end Chorus: so short of air, so filled with nothing, useless junk, trash on the floor, flies in the house my days without you are like a sky, without silvery moons, nor traces of the sun, my days without you are only an echo, that always repeats, the same song Chorus: so short of air, so filled with nothing, useless junk, trash on the floor, flies in the house stumble on the rocks, still i keep waiting that you'll return to me, still i keep looking in the faces of the old, bits of a child, hunting reasons that make me believe, that still i meet with life, biting my fingernails, drowing in my tears, missing you so much, my days without, oh how they hurt, my days without you

mock the stupid brit fan

"Chris Crocker PARODY.Look at Chris Crocker's LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE VIDEO first or THIS VIDEO wont make sense. LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE!VIDEO

breathing, waiting, chasing: tabloidization of the classics

takte. tama nga naman... kahit cheesy ang Spanish class kanina, in fairness sa mga nagsimula ng kakesohan, trulily din naman kayo dun.

all we do is breathe, wait, and chase. everyday we wait. di ba nakakasawa na ring maghintay? all we do is plan for tomorrow; not sure kung si tomorrow naman ay maamo sa'tin o paghihintayin pa rin tayo nang walang kamatayan.

sabihin mo mang, "I'm complete even before you came. i'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself and self-destruction as well" (mga bagay na natutunan sa lit about existentialism), di mo pa rin masisiguro kung kailan ka aandaran ng pagiging emo/cheesy/tweetums/korni/paksyet - call it whatever you want basta nakakaupos pa rin yung feeling. ni wala kang magawa. isinasabay mo na lang sa hangin ang bulong mo sa mga bagay na hindi mo kilala pero hinihintay mo pa rin, hinahabol; seamless faces of those whom we are trying to grasp...

basta maiisip mo na lang, minsan malungkot rin pala kapag mag-isa...

buhay manunulat, manunulot - pagsasamantala sa mga salitang balbal

napakasarap nga namang magpakamatay gamit ang natatanging bagay na napakahalaga sa iyo. yung tipong dahan-dahang lumalagaslas sa katawan mo yung malakas na hataw ng nag-iisang bagay na pinaghihirapan mong maabot - dumudulas, nagpapakipot, sabay sasaksakin ka nang patalikod. hinele mo na nga buhat nang mahawakan mo nang pahapyaw, heto't kinakagat ka pa sa leeg na parang tiyanak.

sulat ka nang sulat; binubuntis mo ang sarili mo nang pilit; nanganganak ka nang nanganganak. buong katawan mo lupaypay. walang natira sa'yo kundi kaunting lakas para tumoma. inakma mo ang lahat ng pwersa para sa isang matinong obra, tapos hindi pa rin pala sapat; at dahil may ibang pumupuna ng mga gawa mo, wala ka nang ibang maibubulong sa sarili mo kundi, "ang pangit ng anak ko!"

minsan mo nang ipinaglaban sa lahat, ipinilit at hindi tinantanan... may lugar pa ba para sa pagsisisi?

kaya sa lahat ng mga nag-aakalang napakadaling maging manunulat at kailangan ay "street-smart" ka lang, well, subukan mong manganak sa pwet nang malaman mo kung gaano kahirap..

raino

habang pauwi... tulala... walang ibang tinatanggap ang isip kundi- wala. ulan na lang ang tumawag ng pansin...

midnight blues

no matter how you try to turn your back at the mellows,
lyrics will always find their way to penetrate you... deep...

Beyond the Margins of Press and Media

"If you want to touch the conscience of the nation, you must first have a conscience of your own."

This was the stand of Palagummi Sainath, a journalist from India, in the onset of the 2007 Ramon Magsaysay Awards Lecture Series on his theme "How Can Journalism Touch a Nation’s Conscience?"



Sainath, who won this year's category for "Journalism, Literature, and Creative Communication Arts" on Asia's equivalent of the Nobel Prize, was recognized for his passionate commitment as a journalist to restore the rural poor to India's national consciousness, moving the nation to action.

He cited famous writers who made conscientious journalism possible in times of war and quest for freedom. He said he was moved by words of American novelist and journalist Samuel Langhorne Clemens, otherwise known as Mark Twain when asked about giving Filipinos freedom: "Yes, it's a great idea to give the Filipinos freedom, but I think it's an even better idea to let them give it to themselves by themselves."

Twain, for Sainath, was a journalist who touched the conscience of countless of readers. He spoke of him as an interactive journalist—that who wrote about atrocities, women's rights and issues across the cultural divide.

Known for being a passionate and articulate speaker, Sainath took an opportunity to give a clear distinction between journalism and stenography. He said the latter was by far the largest stream of journalism but was exclusive only to the powerful.

"Corporate approach to journalism can reach millions of people but can never touch the conscience of nation." Sainath added that it was merely to attract new business, investment and professionals but does not promote rich spiritual landscape and an enviable quality of life.

His sincerity, honesty and dedication, and commitment to highlight the sufferings of the rural masses that are sadly left behind by India's "progress" made him one of the Asia's leading development journalists. Through his work on the livelihoods of India's rural poor, he has changed the nature of the development debate in his own country and across the world. He was aiming for holistic development and cultural enrichment.

Sainath, often referred to as a rebel with a cause, said it was very alarming to see newspapers today bearing more showbiz stories than the more important ones. However, he said there were factors that affect media’s priorities like editors and the philosophy of the medium. Assuming what the readers want merely implies that they were idiots, he said.

The period when the incident of farmer suicides in Indian urban cities was at its height was, for Sainath, a clear example of how media today sets priorities for profit and fame. While relatives of more than 100 farmers who have taken their lives in the drought-ridden southern Indian state of Andhra Pradesh were mourning, 512 accredited journalists were vying for prime spot in a fashion show and cameramen were fighting with their tripods over space.

He said it was apparently showing that news values were not weighed critically.

Citation for the award he has bagged said, "Sainath's authoritative reporting led Indian authorities to address certain discrete abuses and to enhance relief efforts." It added: "Sainath discovered that the acute misery of India's poorest districts was not caused by drought, as the government said. It was rooted in India’s enduring structural inequalities — in poverty, illiteracy, and caste discrimination — and exacerbated by recent economic reforms favoring foreign investment and privatization."

Sainath looked at journalism today as baked with crimes and showbiz, and was not really giving the public what they really want and need to know. With all the hard news and tragedies reported everyday, Sainath claimed it was the small people beyond that big circle that journalists had to talk about — what and how these events affect their lives.

While it is true that reporters should provide people with the freshest information from groundbreaking events, he said they should not neglect their responsibility for social communication — that which makes journalism larger than a business.

"Newspaper is a business. Channels may be a business. But newspaper is not all there is to journalism," Sainath voiced, "Journalism is more than a newspaper. It is a calling." He said journalists should act as bridges in creating social connection and communication.

According to him, only a few dared to report on things that cross the parameters of relating events per se — those that really matter to communities and affect lives. Press was born out of revolt and fight for liberty, but little is the number of those who carry on its nature.

Sainath left a thought for his fellow journalists to ponder as he recalled the story of Ancient Roman Emperor Nero's open air party for the "Who's Who of Rome." As dusk fell, lights were called for, and Nero's staff came up with a novel solution: the party was illuminated by prisoners and poor being burnt on stakes all around the arena.

"And who were Nero's guests? They were the finest minds in the Roman Empire, but no one uttered a word in protest." he said he had always wondered about their attitudes.

Sainath provided an insight into why things were the way they were, leaving the audience with inspiration for things to do. His facts spoke for themselves.

pantastik! beri strong!

Conratulations Mr. Nestor Cuartero for garnering the outstanding feature on DLSU-Manila award!

Entry: "A bridge for kids" which captured the theme "Get the Lead(ers') story
(It bested more than 300 entries.)

DLSU-Manila president, Armin Luistro, described the winning entries as "moving, inspiring and real."

This year's judges: National Artist for Literature Bienvenido Lumbera Jr., Campaigns and Grey chair Yoly Villanueva-Ong, University of the Philippines' journalism department chair Rachel Khan, Naga City Mayor Jesse Robredo and DLSU Manila marketing communication office executive director Ayi Magpayo.

paraiso

touched by this clip.
one should make a move. everyONE must...

composed by Ryan Cayabyab
performed by UST Singers

sino si PETA?

this morning was our third time to watch the Philipines' one of the most outstanding theatre guild, PETA, and it's a little bit funny how common people seem to not know it...

yes it was my third time, and still i wasn't familiar with the trip. although some areas were fresh on my memory sheet, they weren't enough, so i had to ask a coulple of people what roads will lead me to E.Rodriguez and trust my instincts as well. they would ask me where i was heading to, and i just found it surprising that whenever i say "PETA", faces crumpled and people gave me the same question back. even drivers, whom i relied my tour-guessing into, were not sure where the heck they should drop me off.

whatever happened to the Philippine culture and arts? has it become exclusive to the world of prestigious academe and the elites? take note, prestigious academe. think about that... well, i do not belong to that elite group although i'm into that academe thing. i have to pay high for good education and well-equipped system. (yes, there's a big disparity between paying high and not. believe me.)


"sino si PETA?"- much as how we ask "sino si Rizal?" nabaon na lang ang kanyang katanyagan sa loob ng malamig na bantayog, sa piso, sa posporo, at sa t-shirt na binebenta sa megamall, 2nd floor. kahit ang PETA, hindi na maabot ng tao. dahil ba mahal ang ticket? malayo? o tago ang lugar? o dahil mas gusto na lang panoorin ng tao si dolphy kasya sa dula? tama... mas sikat nga ang wowowee kaysa sa PETA.

tuesdays with morrie

i just finished reading the book. albom was such a lucky student - there was only one morrie this world has ever born...

Morrie's Aphorisms for Life

• Whenever a lessening of a physical power occurs, it will always feel too soon. Expect this reaction. Perhaps by preparing for it mentally, you can soften its impact.
  
• Accept yourself, your physical condition, and your fate as they are at the present moment.
  
• Expect that it's going to be harder and take longer to do things. Be prepared to do things in ways that are very different from the ways you did them before.
  
• Get as much help as you can when you need it.
  
• Don't stay preoccupied with your body or your illness. Recognize that your body is not your total self, only part of it.
  
• Expect things to be inaccessible, unattainable, unreachable. When they are, don't get too frustrated or angry. If you do, let it be short-lived.
  
• Expect stressful situations to occur as your illness progresses or acts up. Develop an approach to managing your emotions during these occurrences.
  
• Watch for emotional, spiritual, or behavioral regressions when you are most vulnerable. Try to avoid, minimize, or stop your regression.
  When you are utterly frustrated or angry, express these feelings. You don’t have to be nice all the time—just most of the time.
  
• Grieve and mourn for yourself, not once or twice, but again and again. Grieving is a great catharsis and comfort and a way of keeping yourself composed.
  
• Make an agreement with your family and friends to remind you when you’re depressed, anxious, despairing, or lacking in composure that you do not want to stay that way. Ask them for a compassionate nudge.
  
• After you have wept and grieved for you physical losses, cherish the functions and the life you have left.
  
• Try to develop an inner emotional or spiritual peace to balance the distresses of your body. You might begin by learning to accept "what is" for you at any particular time.
  
• Expect to feel like a dependent child and an independent adult at different times.
  
• At some point, be prepared to deal with profound contradictory feelings—for example, wanting to live and wanting to die, loving others and disliking them.
  
• If you find yourself fantasizing that you are no longer sick and have been restored to your previous level of functioning, stay with the fantasy as long as it gives you pleasure. But return to reality when the fantasy becomes painful or when it is otherwise necessary for you to do so.
  
• Come to terms with the fact that you will never again be fully physically comfortable. Enjoy the times you are comfortable enough.
  
• Accept the past as past, without denying it or discarding it. Reminisce about it, but don’t live in it. Learn from it, but don't punish yourself about it or continually regret it. Don’t get stuck in it.
  
• Learn to forgive yourself and to forgive others. Ask for forgiveness from others. Forgiveness can soften the heart, drain the bitterness, and dissolve your guilt
  
• All the work you have actively done on yourself—all the experiences you have had in your life—can be used to maintain your composure. You have these resources. Draw on them.
  
• Be occupied with or focused on things and issues that are of interest, importance, and concern to you. Remain passionately involved in them.
  
• Resist the temptation to think of yourself as useless. It will only lead to depression. Find your own ways of being and feeling useful.
  
• Don't assume that it’s too late to become involved or to redirect your interests.
  
• Take in a much joy as you can whenever and however you can. You may find it in unpredictable places and situations.
  
• Keep your heart open for as long as you can, as wide as you can, for others and especially for yourself. Be generous, decent, and welcoming.
  
• Recognize the difference between what you want and need. Your need to feel connected to other people is as vital to human survival as food, water, and shelter.
  
• Talk openly about your illness with those who'll listen. It will help them cope with their own vulnerabilities as well as your own.
  
• Maintain and continue a support system, individually and collectively, of people who care about you and vice versa. Do not make demands that others are not ready or willing to fulfill. You may drive them away. Accept their refusal graciously.
  
• Know that your friends and family may see you as less incapacitated than you are because they want you to be "better." They have this need because they care about you. Accept this, while trying to convey your current reality without imposing it on them
  
• Let others' affection, love, concern, interest, admiration, and respect be enough to keep you composed.
  
• Be loving, compassionate, and gentle toward yourself. Befriend yourself. Do not put yourself down or criticize yourself continuously.
  
• Find ways to maintain your inner privacy even when your privacy is being invaded by external necessities.
  
• If you are ill, you can experience more freedom to be who your really are and want to be because you now have nothing to lose.
  
• Try to compensate for the loss of control of parts of your body by increasing control over your mind and emotions.
  
• Be a witness to yourself. Act as an observer to your own physical, emotional, social, and spiritual states.
  
• Accept your doubts about your ability to achieve any change in your emotional state. But keep trying. You might be surprised.
  
• Be hopeful but not foolishly hopeful.
• If possible, find and develop a spiritual connection and practice that comforts you
• Find what is divine, holy, or sacred for you. Attend to it, worship it, in your own way.
• Seek answers to eternal and ultimate questions about life and death, but be prepared not to find them. Enjoy the search.
• Entertain the thought and feeling that the distance between life and death may not be as great as you think.
• Be grateful that you have been given the time to learn how to die.
• Include one or more friends in your spiritual search. You might find the path to spiritual connection less difficult.
• Learn how to live, and you'll know how to die; learn how to die, and you'll know how to live.

thanks to: http://www.cerritos.edu/fquaas/assignments/English52/MorrieEssay.htm

gender identity

Christina, you're 38% masculine

This is based on how you scored on a variety of traits that, founded on classic research and our own studies, are typically associated with men.

You're also 62% feminine, which is based on how you scored on traits that are typically associated with women. When we compare your results with other women it shows that you are somewhat more masculine than other women.

But what is gender identity exactly? A person's gender identity is defined by the extent to which they see themselves as masculine or feminine. Every person possesses both masculine and feminine qualities to some degree, however the extent to which each person has these qualities differs widely. While you were taking the test, we calculated your scores in 6 areas typically defined as masculine and 6 areas typically defined as feminine.

get yours at tickle!


thanks jaycee!!

if only these were being sold:

emotions, attention, soul, affection, love, SLEEP... i'll play a good deal...

come home

you'll never know how it pains me now that you're here, once more, yet i don't feel the same way...

psychological impact of hues... mine...

Your Psyche is Blue

You are deeply emotional and very connected to everything (and everyone) around you. By simply understanding other people, you are able to help them heal and let go. While you are a very deep and thoughtful person, you do have a very silly, superficial side. When you are too blue: the weight of the world's problems hangs over you When you don't have enough blue: you lack perspective and understanding

What Color Is Your Psyche?

self-spirit

What Your Soul Really Looks Like

You are a warm hearted and open minded person. It's easy for you to forgive and forget. You are a very grounded, responsible, and realistic person. People may not want to hear the truth from you, but they're going to get it. You believe that people see you as larger than life and important. While this is true, they also think you're a bit full of yourself. Your near future is calm, relaxing, and pretty much what you want. And it's something you've been anticipating for a while now. For you, love is all about caring and comfort. You couldn't fall in love with someone you didn't trust.

Inside the Room of Your Soul

extensions, passions - those that feed your soul

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?

on vanity and beauty

You Are 58% Vain

You're a little vain, but more than anything you have a healthy amount of confidence. Thinking the world of yourself is great. Just don't think less of those who aren't as pretty as you!

How Vain Are You?

turning the tide on ocean decline

keep the oceans clean campaign

peryodista

maaaring sa kanya ko nakita ang iyong halaga. ipinaubaya na niya sa iyo ang paggabay sa walang hanggang landas ng tinatawag nilang buhay. sa kanyang sisidlan, pamatid-uhaw sa nangangalawang na laman, ay iniukit niya ang munting bulong sa iyo. matatamis ang kanyang mga salita. may tanaw na pag-asa. sinasamba ka niya.

madilim dito. masikip. naggigitgitan ang ingay ng mga salita, panitik, samu't-saring kaalaman - hungkag!

nabubuhay ako sa loob ng aking kamalayan. dumadami. dumudumi. nalason na rin. at sa tuwing ika'y nililikha, utak ko ang nalalaspag. pilit na pinipiga. dinudurog. kinakalansing ang natitira kong katauhan. napakasarap ng pagpatay mo sa akin... sa tuwing malalagot ang aking hininga ay kasabay ang pagluwal sa isang obrang nilikha ng buo kong katawan, kaluluwa. nawawala ang aking puso. tinunaw mo na. inaagaw mo ang aking lakas. inuubos. nililito mo ang aking ulirat at niyayaya ako sa labas ng mundong akin, atin at sa kanila. dinadala mo ako sa likod ng aking mga pangarap at sinusugatan ang aking mga kamay sa bawat titik na tatatak sa puso ng akin sanang mga mambabasa. ngunit walang nais bumasa sa akin... paano kita magiging bukas?

sa kabila nito'y patuloy ang himig ng aking mga tula at lahat silang aking mga sinusulat. lahat sila'y binigyan ko ng buhay. idinugtong ko sa akin at ngayo'y iisa kami. walang humpay ang pagtibok... hindi sila nakakakilala ng tuldok...

sa iyo, sana'y matutunan ko ring ipaubaya ang bukas. kakapit ako sa iyong mga titik. mahigpit. makikinig ako sa bawat bulong ng iyong mga munting matatalim na salita. sa paglaslas nila sa akin, habang natitiis ko pa ang kirot at hapdi ay iipunin ko ang tinta ng aking katawan at dito sisimulan ang paghabi ng pangarap na sa iyo ay aking hahanapin, haharapin...

haunting...

background picture from: robin good

learn the art of "phantom-loving"

1. look
2. once in a while, glance
3. stare if he's not looking
4. gaze if nobody's staring
5. ogle but... no no no, don't!
6. think but don't assume. just keep it in your own world...
7. smile... it helps you release that insanity...
8. dream
9. dream
10. dream
11. dream
12. dream
13. dream
14. dream
15. dream
16. dream
17. dream
18. dream... only to find out
the last piece of the puzzle won't fit... ->torn<-
hell! he's just turning
__. and you're months older... laugh! fool, you've been fooled!

theo...

sem-ender papers are hard rocks on head plus all the mind-bogging tests and a lot more. all you need is bottle of beer! this was my last requirement for our last theology course, which had a great impact on my orientations and views. born out of our philisophical/radical beer-talks the night of my birthday, this contained my thoughts during that critical week...


Break the rules! That is how I can describe my flaming passion for life — break the rules in the sense that we should not always end up conforming to what the society and religion dictates. There are a lot of factors to consider but at least we have a chance to show our individuality and not let the system eat us alive.

Sometimes we get drowned with illusory figures of a perfect world and rectify ourselves to conform to the normal setting. But who, then, set the standards of normality? It may not be far from possible that what we cling into is not linear to our nature then we end up twisting our brains just to fit in. The world does not always tell the truth. We just have to know our nature, consider others’ and live with respect.

I believe action is human behavior to which the acting individual attaches subjective meaning and can be overt or inward and subjective. But by virtue of the subjective meaning attached to it by the acting individuals, action becomes social, and it takes account of the behavior of others and is thereby guided. My actions can be causally determined by the behavior of others, while still not necessarily being meaningfully determined by them. I am an individual and I am free, insofar as I am not disturbing the live of anybody or destroying the situation. I can always tell the world who I am, but I can never expect them to think the way I do because I respect individuality. The uniformity rests insofar as behavior is determined by purely rational actions of people to similar ulterior expectations. And in most cases, our actual action goes on in a state of inarticulate half-consciousness or actually unconsciousness of its subjective meaning. The ideal type case of meaning may be where meaning is fully conscious and explicit: this rarely happens in reality, and we have to deal with it.

I have to thank everyone for bringing back my person, which I thought I lost for a while. In my nineteen years of stay in these soils of "sorcerers and black pearls", it was only yesterday when, once more, I felt I was important, and as I start another year of struggle, my questions about existence now boil down to one answer, and that is respect.

Unrepentant 'Dr. Death' still favors right to die

Dr. Kevorkian also asserts other physicians help ill patients commit suicide

By John Springer
TODAYShow.com contributor
Updated: 8:20 a.m. PT June 5, 2007

Eight years in prison hasn't changed physician-assisted suicide advocate Jack Kevorkian's opinion that legislatures can prohibit doctors from helping chronically ill patients end their lives, but no man-made rule can ever take away a person's "natural right" to decide whether they wish to live or die.

"It is one of our natural rights that we are born with, the right to control the circumstances of one’s own death," Kevorkian, 79, told TODAY's Ann Curry on Tuesday during his first live television interview since being released from a Michigan prison last week.

"It can't be controlled by external forces and be a right," he told Curry. "The law can block your use of it. That doesn't mean they destroy the right."

The media starting calling Kevorkian "Dr. Death" even before several failed attempts by prosecutors in Michigan to send him to prison for murder during the 1990s. Prosecutors finally prevailed in 1999, winning a second-degree murder conviction against Kevorkian for the poisoning death the year before of 52-year-old Thomas Youk, who was suffering from advanced Lou Gehrig's disease. The assisted suicide aired on CBS's "60 Minutes."

Kevorkian has estimated that he participated in more than 130 assisted suicides before Michigan finally won a conviction and sentenced the pathologist to 10 to 25 years in prison.

He claims that the practice remains widespread, even if other physicians aren’t stepping forward as he did to advocate physician-assisted suicide so publicly and brazenly.

"What evidence do you have of that, sir?" Curry asked Kevorkian.

"There have been polls taken of doctors, anonymous polls," said Kevorkian, whose own license to practice medicine was revoked at the time he helped end Youk’s life. "I think more than half say they have done it before and 30 percent say they do it still."


No regrets

Although Kevorkian has said he will no longer participate in assisted suicides, he has no regrets about helping to end the life of patients whom he deemed to be suffering and beyond medical help, and who willingly chose to end their lives.

"If a doctor decides, 'Yes, it's true. This person has a serious disease. Yes, it's true. It looks like he's suffering. And, yes, it's true. There seems to be nothing that can help him' — the person has a natural right to request help by a competent professional in ending his life," Kevorkian said. "And the competent professional has a natural right to accede to that request and help him. Both of those rights [are] blocked by law, that's all. But that doesn't destroy the right."

Apparently, a majority of Americans agree.

A Gallup poll conducted last month found that 71 percent of Americans surveyed feel that doctors should be permitted to end the life of a chronically diseased patient when the patient and his or her family agree to it.

Kevorkian's attorney, Mayer Morganroth, who appeared on TODAY with him, said his client was always careful to satisfy himself completely that a patient seeking help in ending his or her life was mentally competent to make such a decision. "In any case where there was any doubt about mental capacity, Dr. Kevorkian had them referred to a psychiatrist and got a psychiatrist's report and analysis of the person's problems," Morganroth said.

According to the Web site euthanasia.com, 35 states have enacted statutes criminalizing assisted suicide and nine others bar it as a matter of common law. However, several states' courts have said assisted suicide is not a crime. Though Oregon is the only state to legalize physician-assisted suicide, California is considering a similar law with procedures physicians would be required to follow.


This article can be found in: www.msnbc.msn.com, segment: people

type my mood in lowercase

BUT I REALLY CAN'T!!! I'M NOT LIKING WHAT I'M FORCED TO DO! (IMAGINE ME DOING AN SMS - ALL CAPS FROM AN IRATE TEXTER!) EVERY NIGHT FEELS LIKE I'M BEING DRAGGED OUT OF BED, AND SHOWERS MAKE ME WONDER IF I'M REALLY SCRUBBING MY BODY WITH HARD,POINTED STONES THE EARTH COULD EVER IMAGINE BEARING! IF ONLY CAP ONE WERE NOT MOVED TO MARIKINA, THEN NO NEED FOR ME TO ASK FOR TRANSFER, EXCEPT FOR SOME UNEXPECTED SHIT OF COURSE, THE QA, TO NAME ONE...

worth of a woman: not contained in any single-paged writing

i found this on our cap1 part-timers yg...


To All the Meantime Girls

She's the one you call when you're bored because she makes you laugh.
She's the one you talk to when you're feeling down because she's willing to lend an ear and be a friend.
She's not the one you call when you need
a date to your company's Christmas party, or to go dancing with on a Saturday night.
She's the one you spend time with
between girlfriends, before you find "The One".
You know, the one who you keep around in the
meantime.
She's not one of the guys, not a tomboy, but you
don't look at her as a "real" woman, either.
She's not bitchy enough, moody enough, or sexy
enough to be seen in that light.
She's too laid-back, too easily amused
by the same things your male buddies are amused by. She's too understanding, too comfortable - she doesn't make you feel nervous or excited the way a "real" woman does.
But she's cool, and nice, and funny, and attractive enough that when you're lonely or need intimate female companionship, she'll do
just fine.
You don't have to wine and dine her because she
knows the real you already, and you don't have any facades to keep up, no pretenses to preserve.
You're not trying to get anything of substance out of her.
She's not easy, but you know that she cares about you and is attracted to you, and
that she'll give you the intimacy you need. And you know you don't have to explain yourself or the situation, that she'll be able to cope with
the fact that this isn't the beginning of a
relationship or that there's any possibility that you have any real romantic feelings for her.
It won't bother her that you'll get up in the morning, put on your pants, say goodbye, and go on a date with the woman you've been mooning over for weeks who finally agreed to go out with you.
She'll settle for a goodbye hug and a promise to call her and tell her how the date went.
She's just so cool . . . why can't all women be like
that?!
But deep down, if you really think about it (which
you probably don't because to you, the situation between the two of you isn't important
enough to merit any real thought), you know that
it's really not fair.
You know that although she would never say it, it
hurts her to know that despite all her good points and all the fun you two have, you don't
think she's good enough to spend any real time
with.
Sure, it's mostly her fault, because she doesn't
have to give in to your needs - she could play the hard-to-get bitch like the rest of them do,
if she really wanted to. But you and she both know that she probably couldn't pull it off. Maybe she's too short, or a little overweight, or
has a big birthmark on her forehead, or works at Jollibee.
Whatever the reason, somehow life has given her a lot of really great qualities but
has left out the ones that men want (or think they want) in a woman.
So she remains forever the funny friend, the steadfast companion, the secret lover, and you go on searching for your goddess who will somehow
be everything you ever wanted in a woman.
You'll joke to her that she should be the best man at your wedding, and she'll laugh and make a joke about a smelly rental barong.
She doesn't captivate you with her beauty, or open doors with her smile.
Mainly she blends in with the crowd. She's safe.
She doesn't want to be
the center of attention and turn the heads of
everyone in the room. But
she wants to turn someone's head. She wants to
be special to someone,too. We all do.
She has feelings. She has a heart. In fact, she
probably has a bigger
and better heart than any woman you've ever
known because she's had a
front-row seat to The Mess That Is Your Life, and she likes you anyway.
She obviously sees something worthwhile and
redeeming in you because
although you've given her nothing, absolutely
there's no reason for her
to be with you but she still is.
Do you have a meantime girl or are you one?

lost, yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. no reward is offered, for they are gone forever...
-horace mann


there has never been any moment when humans were beyond the mercy of time. at some point of rush we often say there is none left, only to realize that where we are running and what we are chasing is time itself.

time, confined in my philosophy, is a system of measuring isolation... moments when we feel we lost ourselves to war and things unfathomable... and we let ourselves be guided by the earth. experience is our teacher; time is its master... runner's time, the rhythm and tempo characteristic - life told in something we call music.

neutral as time is indefinite, the entire period of the existence of humanity is tasted and defined by its three flavors: the past, the present, the future. every moment there has ever been or ever will be.

life. we give time the privilege to determine it by clock and calendar... by second, minute, hour, day, week, month, year. we may have regrets and what might have beens...

on one's hand, time is an interval with acting or having nothing to do...
out of mind, it is immemorial...

and when we look back, our memory always begins with, "there was a time."

i killed my lover

three in the morning, the meeting of cross currents
minutes before, his gaze was mine
eyes bleeding as he studied me shiver
my only vice dressed my body black and blue
a fist i once adored, now the last claw
that scraped my body sweet
like that of saccharine, intoxicating
cloyingly sweet, in spirit and manner

he held me close, in his arms
tight, rivers cannot pass through...
i silently battled for the dagger
beside the open fire, behind his chest...
i no longer see my lover
but horns, black as silhouette
he must be ready to die and
i was ready to kill...

the dagger flew right next to my core
my hands were the pilot...
i knew he loved me
with this, i knew, he would die...

seaside suicide...

the waters, clear and calm... it is when a human walks toward the seafloor that he becomes united with the elements of life: earth, water, wind, fire...

the pureness of sand
the sanctity of water
the perils of the wind
the brilliance of fire, fire within...

the next best thing is to unite with the divine, the quintessential...

haven of poetry

i just love it how Mario Eric Gamalinda, a native poet and the author of Las Ruinas del Corazon, does the writing. intellectual, passionate, melancholic, deep and sensible - even these are not enough to describe how i indulge in his poetry. his web site left me open-mouthed that the only thing i had told him in a message box was, "when i read your poetry, i just can't make my imaginations behave..."

this stole my attention yesterday. how beautiful it was!


Autoportrait in Black

I was so small the angels decided

not to give me a name. I lived

all my life in obscurity, except

once, when the cypresses applauded

my bravado. I knew the language

of birds, but they still refused

to reveal the harmonies to me.

I lost not one parent, but three.

At the same moment that I learned

love, a blue thunderbolt ripped

the sky open, and I went insane.

Midway in life I traveled through

six time zones, the past, the future,

and every satellite in between.

The words bounced off my tongue,

incandescent, warm. When I died

a megaton of light tore itself

out of my bones. I became pure

particle, a spy among opposing

magisteria. I became an iris, a stone.

This consciousness so dear to me

closed like a flower. I could not

resist the beauty of nothingness.

In my place another being came

to lodge, and I moved quickly

to give it room. I don't know if this

is joy, but my absence was joyful.

this i can't hide...

a poem for someone who ransoms my emotional drought, someone who taught me how to love a portrait...

Somewhere behind his smile
Akin to the depths of his soul, rests
My yearning, if he only knew...
Under the precept of heavenly gods,
Relieve the pains of my flaming passion!
Intoxicating, captivating as he is
Cursed with a perfect physique, and leaves
Endless waiting stealing my sanity...

I adore his humanity and sanctus
and everything that lies in between
My first glimpse of him was beyond recall
Yet here and now, his chassis
Is in no way thrown into oblivion...
My pleasure is to see him, i know nothing more
And heed me as i revere him, though i know
Not a chance will i fall out of this dream, only a dream...

quotes from Hemingway...

"I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, you know?"

"It is better to sleep on things beforehand than lie awake about them afterward."

"A few hours of mountain climbing turn a villain and a saint into two rather equal creature. Exhaustion is the shortest way to equality and fraternity, and liberty is added eventually by sleep."

"There are some things which cannot be learned quickly, and time, which is all we have, must be paid heavily for their acquiring. They are the very simplest things and because it takes a man's life to know them the little new that each man gets from life is very costly and the only heritage he has to leave."

"There is no friend as loyal as a book."

"Writing, at its best, is a lonely life. Organizations for writers palliate the writer's loneliness, but I doubt if they improve his writing. He grows in public stature as he sheds his loneliness and often his work deteriorates. For he does his work alone and if he is a good enough writer he must face eternity, or the lack of it, each day."

"There are events which are so great that if a writer has participated in them his obligation is to write truly rather than assume the presumption of altering them with invention."

- http://www.quotedb.com/quotes

a flight of fancy

just when the night was about to come down
she found, from the holy rains of diety,
the harmony of mythos and veniality,
a reproduction of that
who was loved by aphrodite
a Latinized visage,
without defect or ommission and
who was, usually one of high birth
pledged to chivalrous demeanor

she lured herself from the mildness,
docility of the luscious resonance
proximal within somatic reach
but a fortress of fine edge,
sharp, more often implied
a harsh cutting quality
permitted her to discern
her feet were not on the same earth anymore...


intense addiction: samurice

read and digest... these may help

got these from Compton's Encyclopedia. great thoughts from great minds!

1.Judge a man by his questions rather than by his answers. (Voltaire, 1694-1778)

2.Without music life would be a mistake. (Friedrich Nietzsche, 1844-1900)

3.Wonder is the feeling of a philosopher, and philosophy begins in wonder. (Socrates, 470?-339 BC)

4.To read without reflecting is like eating without digesting. (Edmund Burke, 1729-1797)

5.The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read them. (Mark Twain, 1835-1910)

6.Don't go around saying the world owes you a living; the world owes you nothing, it was here first. (Mark Twain, 1835-1910)

7.There is more to life than increasing its speed. (Mahatma Gandhi, 1869-1948)

8.Wise men don't need advice. Fools don't take it. (Ben Franklin, 1706-1790)

9.If your head is wax, don't walk in the sun. (Ben Franklin, 1706-1790)

10.Make haste slowly. (Ben Franklin, 1706-1790)

11.Do not use a hatchet to remove a fly from your friend's forehead. (Chinese proverb)

12.Never put anything bigger than your elbow in your ear. (Anonymous)

13.Don't let the sun go down on a debt or a quarrel. (Anonymous)

14.Nothing in the known universe travels faster than a bad check. (Anonymous)

15.Anger makes dull men witty, but it keeps them poor. (Francis Bacon, 1561-1626)

16.He that lives upon hope will die fasting. (Ben Franklin, 1706-1790)

17.Be in general virtuous, and you will be happy. (Ben Franklin, 1706-1790)

18.The trouble with the rat race is that even if you win you're still a rat. (Lily Tomlin, 1939- )

19.No one can make you feel inferior without your consent. (Eleanor Roosevelt, 1884-1962)

20.Life was meant to be lived, and curiosity must be kept alive. One must never, for whatever reason, turn his back on life. (Eleanor Roosevelt, 1884-1962)

21.Lost time is never found again. (Benjamin Franklin, 1706-90)

22.Don't look back. Something may be gaining on you. (Satchel Paige, 1906-82)

23.There is no substitute for hard work. (Thomas Edison, 1847-1931)

labor day: additional labor for laborers

this applies only for those who spend this holiday at streets, shouting, fighting for fellow laborers' rights, because for those who slightly feel the oppression of the government, this will naturally be a rest day.

no permit, no rally:
queer. why ask for a permit? it's just like asking for your parents' permission to shout against them and insist your own rules. the reason why it's called a rally is that it is a breakout to recover public strength, to summon or bring persons together for a common purpose and bring them back to action: revive, and knock on the gates of the state leaders to remind them that the society still kills.

not all people languish under the draining sunbeam but everybody profits. then people condemn them...

thoughts to ponder: borrowed thoughts from few good thinkers

--title borrowed from my cousin

i would like to make myself believe that the world is still inhabited by people who cultivate its lands by merely living as authentic human occupants...

"...her beauty reminds me there is a God, nothing as perfect as her could have happened by chance"-- adrian, my cousin's bf

"jealousy permits you to think that the reason why you get annoyed is that you couldn't and wouldn't do how that 'fUcKin' biAtCh' do the flirting!"-- my friend jaycee

"when we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. a friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness"-- some testimonial in friendster

"the more people i kill, the farther from home i feel"-- capt. miller, saving private ryan


1. "people expect you to maintain a level of winning or at least transcend it. but sometimes we lose, and peolple don't get that!"
2. "he who witnesses a crime in silence commits it"
3. "after being rejected, just save some dignity for yourself!"
4. "God determined man to be indeterminate."
-- sir emer

"what's wrong with being number two?!"-- morrie

"charity is not a debt of gratitude nor debt itself. it is what is due to them- a right that the society fails to provide"-- sir pabs

"could it be, that if we really understood death we would see it as the deepest healing of all? is death the great healing? is our life on earth partially a wound that death finally heals?"-- macrina weiderkehr


teka, ako din dapat bida! haha!!

tanong ko lang,
-why is third time always called stupidity?
-why do we have to submit ourselves to systems? education and labor are cults that leave us no choice but ride the wagon.
-why do we strictly care about what others will think of us? they do not make our lives! we have our own self-project and they, too, have their own lives and problems. they care less about us.
-why are we all afraid to say "i love" you toward a person the moment we feel it? yes, restrictions are often considered, but did we ever make it an excuse that the feeling might be gone tomorrow? it's momentary. we just have to let them know. no issues, no friendships broken. thing is, we just can't...
-how can we afford to suspend bliss for people's remarks? real happiness is always a one-time offer. its escape is always expected.
-why do we sometimes let people decide for ourselves, directly and not? we are the ones who suffer the consequences and all they give is sympathy. they just talk and talk, and we swallow the pain.

i am deceased
my soul was captured by the ills
of emptied shell and broken vessel
buried down the earths of yesterday

my history is just a shadow
a silver tint in the frame of my humanity
my youth was killed and burned to ashes
and vanished along the perils of the wind

what i was yesterday, i know no more
it was a reflection of my reverse
an inanimate whose dreams were stolen
churned in a particular cycle of absurdity and greed

i was my own guillotine
i wept under the blades of tensions and tortures
and rudeness of the hike to intellectual riches
i had it before... i had them all before...

yesterday ended last night
it perished along with all my might
those dreams died and crashed to the ground
and i just learned it too late when then night came down

a journey of pain

i walked into the garden of wild dreams and pushed myself into the thorny bushes to reach its heart. then i felt a sudden gush of blood dripping down my face. i asked myself what it was and realized that my forehead was scourged as i pressed in. it was as if my body was painted with blood and water in small slashes of pointed stalks. skin was cut into two and some flesh was screaming out. nevertheless, it wasn't that painful. was it because i had become so vulnerable to pain that i am now unable to distinguish bliss from distress? numb, i say. well, answers never come quickly, and i cared not to ponder on it anymore.

humid was violent, it made my walk a little exhausting since it was hard to manage a scorching walk and the whirl of biting memories enshrined in your heart. my eyes began to grow teary but no defense made the tears fall. then i stopped and started to wonder... where do fallen tears go after the dark moment of tranquility? apart from its physical composition, let me know where they lead were they unable to land on someone else's shoulder and wash away the excruciating pain you hardly bear. how do we tell that a good cry was enough to throw away all the anguish one deeply hides?

still, i walked, i pushed through...
at last i was there, but the heart of the garden did not give me any answer...

and now the journey begins... once more...

"punk cakes" in the morning: good with some play

nothing beats hot pancakes for breakfast! much better when you eat them with bare hands. up one goes and slides down in a saucer of slowly-melting butter, heading for a shower of sugar sprinkles and a tub of milk creamer. yummy!



no one stops you from laying your artistic hands on them...



think:
a) 2pcs; 1 tiny pack of butter; an unlimited supply of maple syrup, you can even play with it or take some in a small plastic tube
--> costs P35 at McDonald's + P20 reg drinks

b) number depends on how starving you are; XX number of 225g butter from your kitchen; maple syrup taken home from McDo, sugar, milk creamer
--> maya hotcake mix: P28 (mother allots for gas, butter, sugar and milk)

touch and go

yesterday's shift would be one of the saddest moments we had in cap1. the verdict: more than 2/3 of the part-timer team had to transfer to ICT Marikina and the rest, although it was favorable to stay, had to undergo retraining for a more hectic program--the consultative.

when, who, heck! that was our initial reactions but never had it gone through our imaginations that it was already planned that night. it was like we were just talking about this junk then all of a sudden the decision was announced and it was hell!

they said it was because cap1 was growing and that we need more space to occupy. cap1 was growing and it made us grow apart, just in time when we knew ourselves better... gonna miss them like hell!!





those were the days...

waves

what the!

funny how we all start with warm hellos
and end with sad goodbyes...

well, goodbye isn't good at all...
although something bigger lies ahead of those who leave--hopes, dreams
being left behind weaves another story...

it chills me to the bones

I used to cry myself to sleep at night
That was all, before he came
I thought love had to hurt to turn on right
but now he's here, it's not the same, it's not the same....

he fills me up, he gives me love
more love that I ever seen
he's all I got, he's all I got in this world
but he's all the man that I need

And in the morning when I kiss he's eyes, he takes me down
and knocks me strought
and in the evening when the moon is high
he holds me close and don't let go, he don't let go



--but then again, how do we mend a broken heart?
there are no spareparts,
no drafts, no cure...
it bleeds...
then it clots,
but it will always imprint a mark,
a scar, a mirror for bitter memories...

holy? week

on my way home this morning after spending our time at my colleague's unit, the ride seemed so absurd it got through my nerves! it actually did not have anything to do with me but it was something that should bother us catholics. streets were congested, drums were heard from almost every corner and droplets of dried blood patterned the floor. it was a thursday morning of the holy week and one must not ask why the hell people go crazy scouring themselves hard as their Lord, our Lord i mean, felt.



blood came forth gushing from his lacerated skin. he was sun-tanned and sweat wrapped his body all-over. funny strips of bladed bamboo leaves tied on a stalk slashed his integument on hard beats of the drum. it was awful. it was grave, yet it was funny. people followed him. they were dressed in shiny robes, as if weeping, breaking their hearts when sounds of slashes burn their ears. drama, that's all it was.

on almost every corner stood iron pillars decorated with white lacy garments and yellow flowers, and some table at the center of the group. they were crying in prayers. solemn? i doubt. leaders throw the loudest. growls, i say. and people behind them nodded while painstakingly washing themselves and their sins under the burning rays of the sun. sweat drooling all-over their bodies. with their booklets polka-dot-wet with mouth rains and body fluids, they sung in chorus. amen, i say.

children lead the group. little voices scraped the roofs-loans. they cried in chorus. they led older people. now i ask, did they know what they were doing?

keeping up with tradition never seemed worse lest the intentions were clearly understood. if people just jump into the wagon and follow the clowns, then who, now, looks foolish?

soy cross

read it right... we were eating at chowking after getting our clearance form and... yeah... kids do play before and after meal. a masterpiece of joycee! hell rock gurl!

how do you curse a semester?

i guess what happened was the reverse...

we were forsaken....

at least we were happy - we were... outside the damned halls of paid learning...

inside yan ah! anyway, i'm pretty sure you know what i mean...


ooh lala!! videoke time!!

sportsfest:

the nerves before the play:

beerday toma-time!! harhar!!

stuck on traffic, heading for the Phil. Daily Inquirer tour:

firefighter volunteers!!

perfect afternoon tandem

my first encounter with the book was when it was asked during the first round on the digital LG quiz show [way back in 2003] where i was so dumb not to know the answer. hell it was for "50pts" and i lost it in just one minute! after that brain twisting event, i promised myself to be more knowledgeable especially on simple facts and at least to know a little of everything.

did i make it? of course not... er... not that quick... and.. no! sort of. well, i'm still on the process. one never gets to know everything. it would be hard to inject an almanac and an encyclopedia in his brain! but at least we should try to move away from stupidity, right? love it while we learn but need not to be pushy.

yes, and after four years i decided to be acquainted with classic books and other valuable reading materials. read. read. read. that, i think, was one of the best pieces of advice sir.esguerra gave us. you will use all of those stuffs you read when you write, talk, or even think. and i believe that would be great instead of wasting time having a date with the black devil box (tv, of course)!

and here it is... i bought it one time after payday. it was the start of the second half of the semester. i was so busy slicing my time off for schooling -->press a little rest<-- and work. i can't imagine how i did that... and i will still be doing that for the next acad.year. still have no plans for pull back. so there. what do i want to say? i failed to finish it with one seating. it took me almost three months to see the period of the story. it touched me so much. i have this intense fascination with children [i remember the perverse murder of jonbenet ramsey. oh how i love the child!].

the stories shared by the precious little prince were stories of life. he was life himself. the little prince is an unending story.

and now i don't know how to end this...