"What makes the desert beautiful," said the Little Prince, "is that somewhere it hides a well..."
December 18 marked the last day of our classes this year. No one was feverish and swarmed with school works because there's not that much to do, except for some encoding and revisions of theses, which practically compensated for the hours wasted on absolute idleness. In short, pang-walis sa nagbuburak na utak.
If Christmas is not a thing for apathetic and semi-anti-social students like us—the notorious bunch of seniors that constantly ignored parties, general assemblies, saintly seminars, and even the upcoming retreat—gift-giving, ironically, does count, at least in some groups, and especially in our last year as kolehiyalas.
"Sirain mo para maraming sumunod," is an automatic line people will surely never forget while anxiously waiting, and sometimes getting even more excited for what the other has received, or dying to see what kind of reaction one would throw upon discovering a slimy toad gum from that silly gift box.
I knew it was an egg; an odd sort of egg—that thing my friend, Joy, gave me last week—and indeed, eggs are supposed to be broken before they can be useful. It was an egg-shaped plush toy with a zip fastener at the midsection, as if inviting you to take a peek at what it cloaks inside. Under the velvety white sheet, much like a scrotum (kidding!) or just plain bonnet, was a happy duckling with 10 hoops of yarn and a perfectly tied orange ribbon on its head, and short flappy wings, unable as that of the tearjerker kiwi animation in youtube. I am not a fan of stuffed toys, but that one was great.
Nevertheless, i prefer to keep the egg closed and figuratively unbroken most of the time for sentimental reasons. Like magic that makes us smile as we look at the swollen tummies of soon-to-be mommies, we slowly fall in love with the idea that there is something beautiful inside it; that there's a little man, sucking his thumb under that pack of lard; and simply because there is life inside it, which gives that ball an extra glow... And for us, lovers of the Little Prince, it is always sweet to look at the sky at night and see the faint white glow with the freshness that comes only with new eyes, knowing that in one of the stars, he is living.
Stars do change, in some measures, as we change in larger ones, and until now, it still gets me to thinking, has the sheep eaten his rose—or not? "And you will see how everything changes... And no grown-up will ever understand that this is a matter of so much importance!"
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
where are you Christmas?
i heard this thing last night which asked, "if you were given a chance to change the 'ho-ho-ho' trademark of Santa Claus, what would it be?" answers came flying as hoy-hoy-hoy, hey-hey-hey, wahahahaha, hihihihi (as if Santa was some sort of a witch), and a lot more crappy sounds.
if i were to be asked, i would suggest that Santa just shuts his mouth up (what's so funny about Christmas?) and never let the hopeful children notice him coming, which is what he intends to do in the first place, because if not, he would just bang the front door or whack the windows instead of squeezing himself dirty in that darn chimney. and by the way, how about the children in tropical countries, who have nothing but holes in the roof, and worse, no roof at all? won't they have their gifts? i'm thankful that i stopped believing in tales at an early age, lest i would have thought of myself as a naughty kid all these time.
well, i don't want to sound like The Grinch, because i also had my own share of putting big red socks under the stairs, waiting for something lovely beneath that plastic tree, and getting myself all mesmerized by the fairy lights that cover the whole city at night; but now, i just don't feel it coming. this year, i don't want to get myself involved with Christmas parties and reunion-slash-beer-drinking session, or whatever. i don't even want to look at plain yellow fairy lights because all they do is make me feel a little melancholic and alone.
again, i say, if i were to choose, i'd rather die on a Christmas season. scanning my older posts, i found this younger piece of thought:
on living and leaving (part 2)
"...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 just don't think something has changed in the way i see it.
and since it's the time of the year, and 2008 is slowly making it's way out (thank God, just a minute shadow of 28 for me to endure) i might as well share with you some of my favorite Christmas songs and an audio book of A Christmas Carol by Orson Wells.
happy Christmas...
if i were to be asked, i would suggest that Santa just shuts his mouth up (what's so funny about Christmas?) and never let the hopeful children notice him coming, which is what he intends to do in the first place, because if not, he would just bang the front door or whack the windows instead of squeezing himself dirty in that darn chimney. and by the way, how about the children in tropical countries, who have nothing but holes in the roof, and worse, no roof at all? won't they have their gifts? i'm thankful that i stopped believing in tales at an early age, lest i would have thought of myself as a naughty kid all these time.
well, i don't want to sound like The Grinch, because i also had my own share of putting big red socks under the stairs, waiting for something lovely beneath that plastic tree, and getting myself all mesmerized by the fairy lights that cover the whole city at night; but now, i just don't feel it coming. this year, i don't want to get myself involved with Christmas parties and reunion-slash-beer-drinking session, or whatever. i don't even want to look at plain yellow fairy lights because all they do is make me feel a little melancholic and alone.
again, i say, if i were to choose, i'd rather die on a Christmas season. scanning my older posts, i found this younger piece of thought:
on living and leaving (part 2)
"...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 just don't think something has changed in the way i see it.
and since it's the time of the year, and 2008 is slowly making it's way out (thank God, just a minute shadow of 28 for me to endure) i might as well share with you some of my favorite Christmas songs and an audio book of A Christmas Carol by Orson Wells.
happy Christmas...
Monday, November 17, 2008
malkovich, malkovich, malkovich... malkovich?? malkovich!!! malko-malko-malkovich!!!
at a certain point in people's lives, they tend to dream of being in another person's shoes. sometimes it's because of misery, lack of opportunity, envy, or just plain curiosity on how it feels to be somebody else, say, Bianca Araneta or the Ayalas. i myself have my own share of wishing my soul to be transported into another mass of flesh for a day, or even just for an hour. i still want to know how ecstatic it feels to be a Katie Holmes and be kissed by my future ex-husband, Tom Cruise, or be an Angelina Jolie and sleep with the oh-so-damn-hot Brad Pitt. when i was younger and naive on politics (i'm not even wiser on it today), it was during the turnover of the presidency of Ex-President Fidel Ramos to Ex-(okay) just Erap, i wondered if i could transfer into the dilapidated vessel of this then president-wannabe action star, take full control of his movements minus the feeling, punch his chest endlessly, hit his head on a rock, then escape from his body afterwards, leaving him no decent temple to go back into anymore. until now it makes me laugh whenever i remember myself lying on the couch while watching that political threat, and asking Voldemort if Ramos could declare martial law just in time before Erap could get the position.
but what if there really is a way to experience this kind of phenomenal insanity? if Stuart (Liev Schreiber) made his way into 1876 to know more about Leopold (Hugh Jackman) in the 2001 film Kate and Leopold, Craig Schwartz (John Cusack) discovered a portal into the eyes, and him being an excellent puppeteer, he found a way even into the whole being of John Malkovich (himself) in the film Being John Malkovich, which is two years older than the former. wait, i'm not making a movie review, am i? poor me, had i not been curious about Jessica Zafra's The 500 People You Meet in Hell, i won't know this movie anyway. well, at least now i know that there was a response the same year the corniest song ever "Stay the Same" by Joey Mcintyre was released.
i did find it amazing to see the reality (or fantasy) behind being in another's body, whereas mine, the audience, an absolute panoramic view of what people see and think while being in Malkovich for 15 minutes, like they were somehow capable of doing the things this universe has deprived them of since they were breathed life into, i felt omniscient.
realizations and the urge to detach myself from total entertainment (because the film was way hilarious, weird, and full of nuance) dawned upon me when Malkovich entered the portal to his own self. what he saw, heard, and felt was about nothing else but himself. everyone had his face. even women and children did. every word written was Malkovich. every word said was none other than Malkovich. he bumped into a man, and instead of welcoming a crisp "fuck you," he absorbed a curse labeled after his very own name, "Malkovich!!!"
it... i mean... you see the point? that, indeed, is what happens when we use our own eyes to perceive the world, because the truth is, seeing life through the eyes alone means a view of nothing more than ourselves. WE ARE ALL SELF-CENTERED. shoot me straight in the head if you know someone who's not. has anyone never ever thought, when he was younger, of him being the only real person on earth and the rest of humanity being obstacles given by the good Lord to test his strength? this might be a strong statement and/or accusation, but people are so used to saying the absolute cliché, "everything happens for a reason," yet they refuse to admit the idea that they see other people as instruments to realizing their own selves. pathetic...
my college friends will kill me for this ego-centrism post, but this certainly is not in a limited-theory-of-mind sense. we all have our take on this thing, and as they say, "we are all generally selfish, but as usual, it is in varying degrees." i believe that it is because our consciousness has been incarcerated and repressed for the longest time, that sometimes, it's like we feel that our minds are being betrayed by the movements of our bodies. we are slaves of our own faculties. we all crave for freedom, and we find ways to somehow take a replacement for that feeling which can never be completely ours.
then again, of course we are all capable of loving others, yada yada, and all the corny stuff, but, admit it or not, it is a love that emanated from the love of thy own SELF. we love people and we want to be with them because they put US in cloud nine. we help others for the fulfillment of OUR being. we do not want to see them suffer because their misery gives US greater pain, and WE are tired of grieving, aren't WE? this world is full of I-LOVE-MYSELF-and-I-LOVE-PEOPLE-AROUND-ME-because-I-LOVE-MYSELF-period attitude. i suddenly remembered our professor when he reminded us of our Bible code that God created us to love, know and praise "HIM".
now we must not wonder why we are all egocentric...
but what if there really is a way to experience this kind of phenomenal insanity? if Stuart (Liev Schreiber) made his way into 1876 to know more about Leopold (Hugh Jackman) in the 2001 film Kate and Leopold, Craig Schwartz (John Cusack) discovered a portal into the eyes, and him being an excellent puppeteer, he found a way even into the whole being of John Malkovich (himself) in the film Being John Malkovich, which is two years older than the former. wait, i'm not making a movie review, am i? poor me, had i not been curious about Jessica Zafra's The 500 People You Meet in Hell, i won't know this movie anyway. well, at least now i know that there was a response the same year the corniest song ever "Stay the Same" by Joey Mcintyre was released.
i did find it amazing to see the reality (or fantasy) behind being in another's body, whereas mine, the audience, an absolute panoramic view of what people see and think while being in Malkovich for 15 minutes, like they were somehow capable of doing the things this universe has deprived them of since they were breathed life into, i felt omniscient.
realizations and the urge to detach myself from total entertainment (because the film was way hilarious, weird, and full of nuance) dawned upon me when Malkovich entered the portal to his own self. what he saw, heard, and felt was about nothing else but himself. everyone had his face. even women and children did. every word written was Malkovich. every word said was none other than Malkovich. he bumped into a man, and instead of welcoming a crisp "fuck you," he absorbed a curse labeled after his very own name, "Malkovich!!!"
it... i mean... you see the point? that, indeed, is what happens when we use our own eyes to perceive the world, because the truth is, seeing life through the eyes alone means a view of nothing more than ourselves. WE ARE ALL SELF-CENTERED. shoot me straight in the head if you know someone who's not. has anyone never ever thought, when he was younger, of him being the only real person on earth and the rest of humanity being obstacles given by the good Lord to test his strength? this might be a strong statement and/or accusation, but people are so used to saying the absolute cliché, "everything happens for a reason," yet they refuse to admit the idea that they see other people as instruments to realizing their own selves. pathetic...
my college friends will kill me for this ego-centrism post, but this certainly is not in a limited-theory-of-mind sense. we all have our take on this thing, and as they say, "we are all generally selfish, but as usual, it is in varying degrees." i believe that it is because our consciousness has been incarcerated and repressed for the longest time, that sometimes, it's like we feel that our minds are being betrayed by the movements of our bodies. we are slaves of our own faculties. we all crave for freedom, and we find ways to somehow take a replacement for that feeling which can never be completely ours.
then again, of course we are all capable of loving others, yada yada, and all the corny stuff, but, admit it or not, it is a love that emanated from the love of thy own SELF. we love people and we want to be with them because they put US in cloud nine. we help others for the fulfillment of OUR being. we do not want to see them suffer because their misery gives US greater pain, and WE are tired of grieving, aren't WE? this world is full of I-LOVE-MYSELF-and-I-LOVE-PEOPLE-AROUND-ME-because-I-LOVE-MYSELF-period attitude. i suddenly remembered our professor when he reminded us of our Bible code that God created us to love, know and praise "HIM".
now we must not wonder why we are all egocentric...
Sunday, November 16, 2008
chamber of secrets
(don't worry, Twilight fans, this is not a Harry Potter post in response to your addiction.)
as i was bloghopping earlier, i came across this entry of my classmate, Monique, about secrets shared anonymously over the net... and as i visited the site, i happened to have my own favorites...
some pictures were posted with corresponding messages, and there's this one that moved me the most:
I googled my secret...
Frank,
In April of this year you posted a secret of mine, it was a painting that read "when you stopped loving me...i stopped painting."
A friend of mine asked to see my paintings while I was at his house yesterday. I don't have any of them online, so, I did a Google Images search for "PostSecret Painting" not expecting to actually find it.
It was the first image to show up!
I was surprised, but more than that, I was moved. I felt like that secret was personal to me, that very few would identify with it. It's posted on blogs and in personal photo albums, even on myspace pages!
Seeing it again reminded me what it felt like to send it in. It reminded me how great it feels to be free from it.
- The Painter
now, with my being so-not-over-this-letting-go-thing, i wonder if there's any site where we can entrust the things we would like to detach from. there's a fine line between "throwing" and "letting go." i just know that one day, when your eyes landed on the things you have let go of before, you will feel the same way the painter did.
as i was bloghopping earlier, i came across this entry of my classmate, Monique, about secrets shared anonymously over the net... and as i visited the site, i happened to have my own favorites...
some of those are the naughty ones,
uplifting,
and others, sentimental...
some pictures were posted with corresponding messages, and there's this one that moved me the most:
I googled my secret...
Frank,
In April of this year you posted a secret of mine, it was a painting that read "when you stopped loving me...i stopped painting."
A friend of mine asked to see my paintings while I was at his house yesterday. I don't have any of them online, so, I did a Google Images search for "PostSecret Painting" not expecting to actually find it.
It was the first image to show up!
I was surprised, but more than that, I was moved. I felt like that secret was personal to me, that very few would identify with it. It's posted on blogs and in personal photo albums, even on myspace pages!
Seeing it again reminded me what it felt like to send it in. It reminded me how great it feels to be free from it.
- The Painter
now, with my being so-not-over-this-letting-go-thing, i wonder if there's any site where we can entrust the things we would like to detach from. there's a fine line between "throwing" and "letting go." i just know that one day, when your eyes landed on the things you have let go of before, you will feel the same way the painter did.
colorgenics
(dahil kay jc, napa-blog ulit ako. haha!)
color tests and other kinds of psychological tests available in the internet, i think, are programs designed for lonely and disturbed people. although i am not as lonely as you think, and definitely not as disturbed as i look, i am a big fan of them, but i still hold on to the idea that these things were cooked up to secure a surrogate friend who can tell you how he thinks things are going on in your life... and most of the time, they're damn right!
this one's from GOLDINUNIVERSE:
You are looking for excitement and stimulation and you are ready to try anything - but be careful not to take too many risks.
Enough is enough - but the problems never seem to stop. They never stop. You feel, and maybe you are right, that the problems seem to go on and on and you have indeed had more than your fair share of trials and tribulations. But to give you credit - you bounce back time and time again - you stick to your beliefs because deep down you have that inner knowledge, that 'belief' system that in the end, everything will turn out OK - and you are right -it will!
As of late, you have been experiencing untold stress and this is a result of continuous frustration. You haven't been taking care of all your physical needs and it's beginning to show. It would seem that you have a need to find someone to whom you can really relate - someone perhaps whose standards are as high as your own. You want to be different - to be individualistic - to stand out from the common herd. Your inherent control of your sensual instincts is restricting your ability to give yourself to open up freely but this being on your own, being lonely, often makes you feel the need to give up some of your strict standards to surrender to the general flow - to be like everyone else; a part of the herd. Deep down you regard such instincts as weaknesses to be overcome. You would like to be loved or admired for yourself alone. You demand recognition and tender loving care.
There is that inherent fear that you may be prevented from attaining the better things in life - those things that you consider essential to your well-being. So you are prepared to try everything to prove to yourself that whatever you do or try will go wrong. This destructive attitude could come under the heading of 'a self fulfilling prophesy'. This belittling yourself is your method of disguising how hopeless and what a waste of time you feel that everything is. So now turn it about. As you 'think', so you are... So 'imagine' yourself successful. 'Pretend', 'act it out' and you may be pleasantly surprised at the outcome.
can i just make a protest on the last paragraph? i just think that it's too pathetic, and it's as sure as hell not me. just because black topped the list of my preference doesn't mean i'm a total loser. yes, sometimes i give up, but tell me, is there anyone who's prepared to try everything to prove to himself that whatever he does or try will go wrong? it sounds hilarious, doesn't it? ^o^
color tests and other kinds of psychological tests available in the internet, i think, are programs designed for lonely and disturbed people. although i am not as lonely as you think, and definitely not as disturbed as i look, i am a big fan of them, but i still hold on to the idea that these things were cooked up to secure a surrogate friend who can tell you how he thinks things are going on in your life... and most of the time, they're damn right!
this one's from GOLDINUNIVERSE:
Name: tinapie
Date: 11/16/2008
Colorgenics Number: 71532460
Enough is enough - you feel frustrated and rejected. You are fighting back and the going is tough. It would be just wonderful if you could be left in peace.
You are looking for excitement and stimulation and you are ready to try anything - but be careful not to take too many risks.
Enough is enough - but the problems never seem to stop. They never stop. You feel, and maybe you are right, that the problems seem to go on and on and you have indeed had more than your fair share of trials and tribulations. But to give you credit - you bounce back time and time again - you stick to your beliefs because deep down you have that inner knowledge, that 'belief' system that in the end, everything will turn out OK - and you are right -it will!
As of late, you have been experiencing untold stress and this is a result of continuous frustration. You haven't been taking care of all your physical needs and it's beginning to show. It would seem that you have a need to find someone to whom you can really relate - someone perhaps whose standards are as high as your own. You want to be different - to be individualistic - to stand out from the common herd. Your inherent control of your sensual instincts is restricting your ability to give yourself to open up freely but this being on your own, being lonely, often makes you feel the need to give up some of your strict standards to surrender to the general flow - to be like everyone else; a part of the herd. Deep down you regard such instincts as weaknesses to be overcome. You would like to be loved or admired for yourself alone. You demand recognition and tender loving care.
There is that inherent fear that you may be prevented from attaining the better things in life - those things that you consider essential to your well-being. So you are prepared to try everything to prove to yourself that whatever you do or try will go wrong. This destructive attitude could come under the heading of 'a self fulfilling prophesy'. This belittling yourself is your method of disguising how hopeless and what a waste of time you feel that everything is. So now turn it about. As you 'think', so you are... So 'imagine' yourself successful. 'Pretend', 'act it out' and you may be pleasantly surprised at the outcome.
can i just make a protest on the last paragraph? i just think that it's too pathetic, and it's as sure as hell not me. just because black topped the list of my preference doesn't mean i'm a total loser. yes, sometimes i give up, but tell me, is there anyone who's prepared to try everything to prove to himself that whatever he does or try will go wrong? it sounds hilarious, doesn't it? ^o^
Thursday, November 13, 2008
sinong may sabi na dapat lahat ng post may kwenta?
gusto kong mag-post ng napaka-walang kwentang entry ngayon. una sa lahat, hindi naman ako preacher o teacher, kaya wala ka talagang matututunan sa mga pinagsususulat ko. 'pag binasa mo 'to, maiintindihan kita... wala ka ring magawa sa buhay mo ngayon ano? marami kang gustong i-post, pero tinatamad ka rin ba kagaya ako? or you just can't put them into words?
gusto ko lang mag-post kasi masarap umepal ngayon. ilang minuto na lang, 2 a.m. na. kung sana lang hindi na ako nag-post ng ganitong kawalang-kwentang post, e di sana naumpisahan ko na yung entry na gusto ko talagang i-post. sana rin hindi ka na nagababasa ng napakawalang-kwentang entry na 'to.
pero bakit binabasa mo pa rin? jologs 'tong ginagawa ko, men. parang yung mga walang kakwena-kwentang comments sa friendster na "hi, maikli lang 'to. kakamustahin lang sana kita, pero busy ka yata kaya naisip ko, hindi na lang, ayoko sanang maka-istorbo, pero sana kahit papaano ay na-appreciate mo yung pangungumusta ko. ano, kumusta ka na? yada, yada, yada" at yung notorious na classic testi na "eto ang pinaka-walang kwentang testi, blah blah, blah." i'm sure binasa mo 'yung mga 'yun, at sa dinami-dami ng pwedeng basahin, isa 'yun sa mga natapos mo. e bakit nga ba? sino bang may sabi na dapat lahat ng post e may kwenta? bawal bang magsulat ng hindi pinag-iisipan? bobo ka na ba once makita ng tao yung side mo na napaka-walang kwenta? and on top of it, dapat bang laging maganda ang i-project mo sa mga tao? ang hirap mag-edit ng sarili. 'wag kang plastik. mas masaya pa rin maging jologs. chillax lang...
kung ang tao nga minsan salita na lang nang salita, wala namang kwenta yung sinasabi eh. may natututunan ka ba sa kanila? yung mga prof mo, minsan, dakdak lang nang dakdak, may naiintindihan ka ba? wala naman diba? baka rin kasi minsan, ayaw mo lang talagang tanggapin ang mga naririnig mo. tunog lang naman 'yang mga 'yan eh. lilipas rin sila. wala pa 'kong alam na pagkahaba-habang salita na lumampas ng three seconds 'pag binigkas. oo na, sige na. supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. walang three seconds diba? ano pa? 'wag kang pilosopo. i'm not talking about compound words. yung mga isahan lang. nosebleed eh.
pero hindi naman lahat ng nakakausap mong walang kwentang magsalita ay senseless. masarap lang talaga minsan kumawala. dapat ba lahat ng stories ay happy or sad ending at may lesson? e paano kung sa gitna pa lang ng kwento e bigla na lng natapos at hindi mo na alam kung ano nang nangyari? nag-brown out kumbaga, o sadyang walang kwenta lang ang plot. bitin diba? kahit sa totoong buhay may ganyan. hindi rin 'yung mga kasing predictable ng mga pelikulang pinoy na naka-template na. iniiba na lang yung love team at yung setting, e pwede mo nang hulaan yung ending. yayaman ang inaapi. masusunog/masasagasaan/mababaril/masasabugan, at eventually, mamamatay na kunwari ang kontrabida, pero hindi pala. buhay pa pala siya. pero magwawagi pa rnang bida. bida 'yun eh! e bakit 'yun may nanonood pa rin? at bakit sa mga ganito ay may nagbabasa pa rin? see?
salamat nga pala ah... :)
gusto ko lang mag-post kasi masarap umepal ngayon. ilang minuto na lang, 2 a.m. na. kung sana lang hindi na ako nag-post ng ganitong kawalang-kwentang post, e di sana naumpisahan ko na yung entry na gusto ko talagang i-post. sana rin hindi ka na nagababasa ng napakawalang-kwentang entry na 'to.
pero bakit binabasa mo pa rin? jologs 'tong ginagawa ko, men. parang yung mga walang kakwena-kwentang comments sa friendster na "hi, maikli lang 'to. kakamustahin lang sana kita, pero busy ka yata kaya naisip ko, hindi na lang, ayoko sanang maka-istorbo, pero sana kahit papaano ay na-appreciate mo yung pangungumusta ko. ano, kumusta ka na? yada, yada, yada" at yung notorious na classic testi na "eto ang pinaka-walang kwentang testi, blah blah, blah." i'm sure binasa mo 'yung mga 'yun, at sa dinami-dami ng pwedeng basahin, isa 'yun sa mga natapos mo. e bakit nga ba? sino bang may sabi na dapat lahat ng post e may kwenta? bawal bang magsulat ng hindi pinag-iisipan? bobo ka na ba once makita ng tao yung side mo na napaka-walang kwenta? and on top of it, dapat bang laging maganda ang i-project mo sa mga tao? ang hirap mag-edit ng sarili. 'wag kang plastik. mas masaya pa rin maging jologs. chillax lang...
kung ang tao nga minsan salita na lang nang salita, wala namang kwenta yung sinasabi eh. may natututunan ka ba sa kanila? yung mga prof mo, minsan, dakdak lang nang dakdak, may naiintindihan ka ba? wala naman diba? baka rin kasi minsan, ayaw mo lang talagang tanggapin ang mga naririnig mo. tunog lang naman 'yang mga 'yan eh. lilipas rin sila. wala pa 'kong alam na pagkahaba-habang salita na lumampas ng three seconds 'pag binigkas. oo na, sige na. supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. walang three seconds diba? ano pa? 'wag kang pilosopo. i'm not talking about compound words. yung mga isahan lang. nosebleed eh.
pero hindi naman lahat ng nakakausap mong walang kwentang magsalita ay senseless. masarap lang talaga minsan kumawala. dapat ba lahat ng stories ay happy or sad ending at may lesson? e paano kung sa gitna pa lang ng kwento e bigla na lng natapos at hindi mo na alam kung ano nang nangyari? nag-brown out kumbaga, o sadyang walang kwenta lang ang plot. bitin diba? kahit sa totoong buhay may ganyan. hindi rin 'yung mga kasing predictable ng mga pelikulang pinoy na naka-template na. iniiba na lang yung love team at yung setting, e pwede mo nang hulaan yung ending. yayaman ang inaapi. masusunog/masasagasaan/mababaril/masasabugan, at eventually, mamamatay na kunwari ang kontrabida, pero hindi pala. buhay pa pala siya. pero magwawagi pa rnang bida. bida 'yun eh! e bakit 'yun may nanonood pa rin? at bakit sa mga ganito ay may nagbabasa pa rin? see?
salamat nga pala ah... :)
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
dusting off
i have this piece of crap called room. you can find all kinds of (yes, you genius!) crap in it. from old books and papers to soil and cobwebs, all the things in it seldom see the sun. i was driven to do "a little letting go" (if the phrase would permit me to borrow some sense) this afternoon. it might sound ridiculous but i suddenly realized that there's this subtle kind of poetry in the act of throwing most of the things that remind you of the bitter past, while also finding those that made it worthwhile.
how do i say so? whenever i do a general cleaning, which is, of course, as seldom as an eclipse, i start off with the topmost part. it won't take long before you realize that i'm trying hard to associate this thing with the brain. believe me. so there. let the dust fall on the things that are more capable of holding filth―those that are easier to clean. and of course, one must do the cleaning when he is harsh and most detached from the world, because if not, it will be harder to sift what to keep from what to abolish.
normally, i take the books from the shelf, clean them one-by-one, and put them back to their places; but this time, i yanked all of them down to my bed and stared at the heap i have created. now this is a pretty hard task―to look at the vaults of your knowledge and decide whether to pass them on to someone who might need the same enlightenment or keep them for future self-rehebilitation.
for someone who's no good in any household chore, cleaning is the most tiring yet the most exciting and overwhelming of all. it feels good to recollect your youth personally. cleaning brings back old things. and you don't have to be surprised to find out that you have been a good secret keeper. your chamber contains lots of secrets you've probably forgotten by now. in most cases, nothing will change even if you spill them out. like a herd of whores, youthful secrets lose their value as they age. they might have been made known to the public anyway. these are the mundane secrets of your youth, and are now the subjects of laughter. continue testing your tongue if you want to set a new record for the best-kept secret ever, and people might ask you, "where have you been all these days?"
in my crap, i didn't find much secrets. my best friends were gone long after high school that i don't have any today. i'm referring to that one friend you call "best friend." no secrets were "re-revealed again for the second time around" in its utmost redundancy, but pictures of how strange i looked years ago.. nude pictures of me with fictitious pentel-marked panties.. awkward poses and uneasy crescent smiles.. red-eye and closed-eye snaps while everyone else in the picture seemed in glorious state.. how i looked like with a pimple-sized nose, punch in the mouth, fence-like teeth, and bangs.. how i wore my hair in pony tail, the ends touching the straps of my jumper.. and um, yes, minus the boobs, of course. i looked like a little boy.. and the fashion, not just of me but of people around me. the hair! solid!
the joy of reuniting with the things that made up the totality of your being equals that of letting go of your excess baggage. as what my friend, Jaycee, found in that Oprah thing, "You always do a little growing up everytime you do a little letting go." and i guess, acceptance and detachment are the crucial steps to finally let go of something you've held on for so long. like toys and things you keep because they were your firsts (first pencil, first pay slip, first college papers) eventually, you must let go of them because you don't want to make a dump site out of your body. one can't just contain all the things and emotions he had in a lifetime. successful people are always moving forward and there's always a give-up story in every success. move a little and give room for something fresh. give up something good if you want something better.. just that. if only it were that easy..
i gave a final sweep of everything from under my bed and table. how much junk has accumulated there was epic. now my room isn't a crap anymore. give it some weeks and maybe it'll look like a jungle again. but for now, i see it as a sanctuary for my tired body.
well, since Jaycee starred in this entry. let me steal his comment on my friendster, "tap me when it's about time to cram, procrastinate, and make everything work at crunch time. for now, it's a date with the pillows."
how do i say so? whenever i do a general cleaning, which is, of course, as seldom as an eclipse, i start off with the topmost part. it won't take long before you realize that i'm trying hard to associate this thing with the brain. believe me. so there. let the dust fall on the things that are more capable of holding filth―those that are easier to clean. and of course, one must do the cleaning when he is harsh and most detached from the world, because if not, it will be harder to sift what to keep from what to abolish.
normally, i take the books from the shelf, clean them one-by-one, and put them back to their places; but this time, i yanked all of them down to my bed and stared at the heap i have created. now this is a pretty hard task―to look at the vaults of your knowledge and decide whether to pass them on to someone who might need the same enlightenment or keep them for future self-rehebilitation.
for someone who's no good in any household chore, cleaning is the most tiring yet the most exciting and overwhelming of all. it feels good to recollect your youth personally. cleaning brings back old things. and you don't have to be surprised to find out that you have been a good secret keeper. your chamber contains lots of secrets you've probably forgotten by now. in most cases, nothing will change even if you spill them out. like a herd of whores, youthful secrets lose their value as they age. they might have been made known to the public anyway. these are the mundane secrets of your youth, and are now the subjects of laughter. continue testing your tongue if you want to set a new record for the best-kept secret ever, and people might ask you, "where have you been all these days?"
in my crap, i didn't find much secrets. my best friends were gone long after high school that i don't have any today. i'm referring to that one friend you call "best friend." no secrets were "re-revealed again for the second time around" in its utmost redundancy, but pictures of how strange i looked years ago.. nude pictures of me with fictitious pentel-marked panties.. awkward poses and uneasy crescent smiles.. red-eye and closed-eye snaps while everyone else in the picture seemed in glorious state.. how i looked like with a pimple-sized nose, punch in the mouth, fence-like teeth, and bangs.. how i wore my hair in pony tail, the ends touching the straps of my jumper.. and um, yes, minus the boobs, of course. i looked like a little boy.. and the fashion, not just of me but of people around me. the hair! solid!
the joy of reuniting with the things that made up the totality of your being equals that of letting go of your excess baggage. as what my friend, Jaycee, found in that Oprah thing, "You always do a little growing up everytime you do a little letting go." and i guess, acceptance and detachment are the crucial steps to finally let go of something you've held on for so long. like toys and things you keep because they were your firsts (first pencil, first pay slip, first college papers) eventually, you must let go of them because you don't want to make a dump site out of your body. one can't just contain all the things and emotions he had in a lifetime. successful people are always moving forward and there's always a give-up story in every success. move a little and give room for something fresh. give up something good if you want something better.. just that. if only it were that easy..
i gave a final sweep of everything from under my bed and table. how much junk has accumulated there was epic. now my room isn't a crap anymore. give it some weeks and maybe it'll look like a jungle again. but for now, i see it as a sanctuary for my tired body.
well, since Jaycee starred in this entry. let me steal his comment on my friendster, "tap me when it's about time to cram, procrastinate, and make everything work at crunch time. for now, it's a date with the pillows."
Sunday, September 28, 2008
food for thoughts
a perfect reading experience after browsing our phenomenology of love lectures way back in 3rd year (*mushy*), and while listening to the music of beatles.
now, after four years of learning the art of writing, i can really say that there's no greatest of the greatest schools that can teach anybody how to write. how about that then? too bad, professors don't even know how to rate your work. everything becomes subjective. writing classes and all that are just there to develop your taste. the rest is for you to discover...
from reader's digest online: Eight Celebrities Share What They've Learned
DESMOND TUTU - cleric; antiapartheid activist; winner, 1984 Nobel Peace Prize; winner, 2005 Gandhi Peace Prize
"Each one of us can make a contribution. Too frequently we think we have to do spectacular things. Yet if we remember that the sea is actually made up of drops of water and each drop counts, each one of us can do our little bit where we are. Those little bits can come together and almost overwhelm the world. Each one of us can be an oasis of peace."
JANE GOODALL - primatologist and conservationist; founder, the Jane Goodall Institute for Wildlife Research, Education and Conservation, based in Washington, D.C.
"We've been very arrogant in assuming that there's a sharp line dividing us from the rest of the animal kingdom. We are not the only beings on this planet with personalities, minds, and, above all, emotions. We need to be more respectful."
CLINT EASTWOOD - actor, more than 50 films; director, 29 films, including Unforgiven and Million Dollar Baby; winner, 4 Academy Awards
"Great stories teach you something. That's one reason I haven't slipped into some sort of retirement: I always feel like I'm learning something new. There was a time in my life when I was doing westerns, on the plains of Spain. I could have stayed there and probably knocked out a dozen more. But the time came when I said, That's enough of that. As fun as they were to do, it was time to move on. If a story doesn't have anything that's fresh in it, at least for me, I move away from it."
"Take your profession seriously; don't take yourself seriously. You really only matter to a certain degree in the whole circus out there. If you take yourself seriously, you're not going to be able to move forward. You're going to be hampered by always wanting to look in the mirror and see if you have enough tuna oil on your hair or something like that."
LELLA and MASSIMO VIGNELLI - interior and graphic design team, married 50 years; creators, New York City subway signage; contributors, Grand Central Terminal restoration; winners, more than 130 awards
LV: "People ask us, 'Aren't you retiring?' But we really like what we do."
MV: "You need to have passion. The greatest thing I've learned in my life is that there is room for everybody. That's the great thing about art and design and communication. There's room for all."
LV: "Aspiring designers should know about the good things that happened before. Have a little history. Go back and see what was done before."
MV: "Learn from the past if you want what matters in the present. Knowledge is the most important thing. To young people, we say, fill your brain with as much information as you can. Look at everything, know everything, develop a critical mind. History, theory, and criticism are the three fundamental elements to grow in a professional life. History will provide you with the tools for understanding. Theory will be the philosophy of why you're doing it. And criticism will provide you with the ability to continually master what you are doing. Play with these tools and you can do pretty good things."
NELSON MANDELA - civil rights leader; prisoner for 27 years for his antiapartheid work; cowinner, 1993 Nobel Peace Prize; elected South Africa's first freely chosen president (1994-1999)
"Wounds that can't be seen are more painful than those that can be seen and cured by a doctor. I learned that to humiliate another person is to make him suffer an unnecessarily cruel fate. I learned that courage was not the absence of fear but the triumph over it. I felt fear myself more times than I can remember, but I hid it behind a mask of boldness. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid but he who conquers fear. Where people of goodwill get together and transcend their differences for the common good, peaceful and just solutions can be found, even for those problems that seem most intractable."
JACQUES PÉPIN - chef; author, 25 cookbooks; founder, American Institute of Wine & Food
"For most kids now, a chicken is rectangular. It's got plastic on top, and it doesn't have eyes or feet. This is scary. You should never eat something you cannot recognize. A simple principle, but important.
JUDI DENCH - actress, more than 100 plays and films, including Shakespeare in Love; winner, 6 Laurence Olivier Awards, 1 Academy Award, 1 Tony Award
"I get sillier as I get older, so I don't know what wisdom means. I can only pass on something that I've been acquainted with and let whoever it is pick the bones out of it."
now, after four years of learning the art of writing, i can really say that there's no greatest of the greatest schools that can teach anybody how to write. how about that then? too bad, professors don't even know how to rate your work. everything becomes subjective. writing classes and all that are just there to develop your taste. the rest is for you to discover...
from reader's digest online: Eight Celebrities Share What They've Learned
DESMOND TUTU - cleric; antiapartheid activist; winner, 1984 Nobel Peace Prize; winner, 2005 Gandhi Peace Prize
"Each one of us can make a contribution. Too frequently we think we have to do spectacular things. Yet if we remember that the sea is actually made up of drops of water and each drop counts, each one of us can do our little bit where we are. Those little bits can come together and almost overwhelm the world. Each one of us can be an oasis of peace."
JANE GOODALL - primatologist and conservationist; founder, the Jane Goodall Institute for Wildlife Research, Education and Conservation, based in Washington, D.C.
"We've been very arrogant in assuming that there's a sharp line dividing us from the rest of the animal kingdom. We are not the only beings on this planet with personalities, minds, and, above all, emotions. We need to be more respectful."
CLINT EASTWOOD - actor, more than 50 films; director, 29 films, including Unforgiven and Million Dollar Baby; winner, 4 Academy Awards
"Great stories teach you something. That's one reason I haven't slipped into some sort of retirement: I always feel like I'm learning something new. There was a time in my life when I was doing westerns, on the plains of Spain. I could have stayed there and probably knocked out a dozen more. But the time came when I said, That's enough of that. As fun as they were to do, it was time to move on. If a story doesn't have anything that's fresh in it, at least for me, I move away from it."
"Take your profession seriously; don't take yourself seriously. You really only matter to a certain degree in the whole circus out there. If you take yourself seriously, you're not going to be able to move forward. You're going to be hampered by always wanting to look in the mirror and see if you have enough tuna oil on your hair or something like that."
LELLA and MASSIMO VIGNELLI - interior and graphic design team, married 50 years; creators, New York City subway signage; contributors, Grand Central Terminal restoration; winners, more than 130 awards
LV: "People ask us, 'Aren't you retiring?' But we really like what we do."
MV: "You need to have passion. The greatest thing I've learned in my life is that there is room for everybody. That's the great thing about art and design and communication. There's room for all."
LV: "Aspiring designers should know about the good things that happened before. Have a little history. Go back and see what was done before."
MV: "Learn from the past if you want what matters in the present. Knowledge is the most important thing. To young people, we say, fill your brain with as much information as you can. Look at everything, know everything, develop a critical mind. History, theory, and criticism are the three fundamental elements to grow in a professional life. History will provide you with the tools for understanding. Theory will be the philosophy of why you're doing it. And criticism will provide you with the ability to continually master what you are doing. Play with these tools and you can do pretty good things."
NELSON MANDELA - civil rights leader; prisoner for 27 years for his antiapartheid work; cowinner, 1993 Nobel Peace Prize; elected South Africa's first freely chosen president (1994-1999)
"Wounds that can't be seen are more painful than those that can be seen and cured by a doctor. I learned that to humiliate another person is to make him suffer an unnecessarily cruel fate. I learned that courage was not the absence of fear but the triumph over it. I felt fear myself more times than I can remember, but I hid it behind a mask of boldness. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid but he who conquers fear. Where people of goodwill get together and transcend their differences for the common good, peaceful and just solutions can be found, even for those problems that seem most intractable."
JACQUES PÉPIN - chef; author, 25 cookbooks; founder, American Institute of Wine & Food
"For most kids now, a chicken is rectangular. It's got plastic on top, and it doesn't have eyes or feet. This is scary. You should never eat something you cannot recognize. A simple principle, but important.
JUDI DENCH - actress, more than 100 plays and films, including Shakespeare in Love; winner, 6 Laurence Olivier Awards, 1 Academy Award, 1 Tony Award
"I get sillier as I get older, so I don't know what wisdom means. I can only pass on something that I've been acquainted with and let whoever it is pick the bones out of it."
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
maybe i'll put a title tomorrow
after six months of having an online newspaper as my homepage, i finally reverted to MSN. yeah, i know... i'm still not for straight, verrry verrry hard news.
i found this article below on their MSN-Encarta features/columns section. how i love the way it was written! errr.. maybe because it speaks for me. haha. now i know, procrastination's not that bad. hello to all fellow planners and daydreamers!
Is Procrastination Healthy?
By Don Asher
Do you put off important work until the last minute? So do I. That makes us both procrastinators. In fact, this article was due weeks ago. But since you didn't know that, you weren't missing it, were you?
Only my editors suffer from my work habits. At least, that's what I try to tell myself.
Procrastination costs the country untold millions -- if not billions -- of dollars, though. Missed deadlines create a cascade of problems in a complex, interconnected economy.
California can't seem ever to turn out a timely budget, scads of Americans recently waited weeks and weeks for tardy stimulus checks, and delayed software releases even have their own name, "vaporware."
However, procrastination is not all bad, and not all procrastinators are deficient performers. For example, graduate students are more likely than undergraduates to procrastinate, in spite of being statistically superior students.
Artists often revel in pulling all-nighters full of blasts of creativity and production. The peculiar genius of desperation and 4 a.m. logic is a fecund contributor to the national product. In fact, a little procrastination may be part of living an ambitious and energetic life.
But what about when procrastination goes critical? When relationships are ruined, spouses feel betrayed, bosses are disgusted, and a person is frozen, frustrated, and disillusioned with that nonperformer staring back in the mirror? That's when procrastination is an enemy to mental health.
"In personal relationships, if you say you'll do something and you don't do it, people begin not to trust you," says clinical psychologist Linda Sapadin. "If they can't trust you to do what you say you'll do, that's passive-aggressive, and it creates a lot of disturbance in relationships."
Dr. Sapadin is a national specialist in procrastination, and author of "It's About Time! The Six Styles of Procrastination and How to Overcome Them." In addition to her private practice based on Long Island, she speaks to corporate audiences nationwide on the costs and cures of procrastination.
Classifying procrastinators
It turns out not all procrastinators are alike. Dr. Sapadin's taxonomy identifies six different types. You may recognize yourself in one or more of these:
Perfectionists -- They want every project to be perfect, and this often causes them to be frozen in fear that they cannot meet such an unrealistic goal, even though they set the goal themselves.
Dreamers -- These people suffer from magical thinking. "It'll all work out," they say, while they do nothing to advance their goals.
Crisis Makers -- They often say they do their best work under pressure, but more accurately, they prefer uproar and crisis to do any work at all.
Worriers -- Their fears consume their thought processes and prevent any real work being done, as they imagine and dwell upon every possible scenario for disaster and failure.
Defiers -- These people may resent the assignments in the first place, and retake control over their lives by refusing to do the work in a timely and cooperative manner, or at all.
Overdoers -- Also known as "the pleasers," these people can't say no, and so take on more and more responsibility without any reasonable expectation of being able to deliver on their obligations.
One of the more fascinating findings in the research literature about procrastinators is that time-management training doesn't really help. Procrastinators know perfectly well how to manage time; they just don't want to do their work that way!
When Dr. Sapadin was considering writing her book, "All the existing books had to do with time management or getting organized, but for most people it [procrastination] related to some glitch in their personality style," she says.
So procrastinators have to change their thinking, rather than improve their knowledge of time-management techniques. For more on this, check out Dr. Sapadin's Web site psychwisdom.com.
For example, perfectionists have to tell themselves, "This doesn't have to be perfect. Good enough is just fine. It is more important to be done on time than to do a perfect job. Perfection is unattainable anyway, and it's not what my boss or professor wants."
Crisis makers may need to tell themselves, "I don't really do my best work under pressure. That's just a habit I have. I can do more work if I start sooner, and I'll probably find that some of that work is just as creative and interesting as the work I might do under pressure."
It is this sort of cognitive reprogramming that leads to change.
Procrastination is extremely common in academic settings. In fact, the overwhelming majority of students procrastinate. The American Psychological Association has a guide for educators on how to deal with different types of procrastinating students, "Counseling the Procrastinator in Academic Settings."
It turns out that procrastination is, in fact, a time-management technique. When it's not a destructive force, it allows workers to be hyperproductive in bursts. It's an antidote to that old maxim, "The assignment expands to fill the available time." It's a way to contain an assignment within a smaller block of time.
To see how procrastination works when it is a force for good, I decided to interview some top students about their work habits. The following students are all top performers.
Ginger White, a McNair Scholar and a senior at Indiana University -- Purdue University Indianapolis, readily admits to procrastinating.
"I do work better under pressure, and I'm easily distracted. Little things get in the way, until the deadline gets near." For the final push, though, she says she gathers all the books and reference materials she needs to do the assignment.
"Then, I sit there. I don't care how long it takes. I sit there. I'm in the zone, and the ideas just come, and if I were to try to do this two weeks early, the ideas just wouldn't be there."
This seems to be working for her, as she has a 3.9 GPA in new media and computer sciences.
Brandon Lewis, a music education major at the University of Arkansas at Pine Bluff, and also a McNair Scholar, says he procrastinates "all the time." But he sees a benefit to it.
"When I have a big paper due, I might put it off," he says, but "I'm planning out how I'm going to do it, planning when to do it. I'm thinking about it constantly." So this type of mental rehearsal and preparation helps him get ready to be productive.
Dominique Booker, a double major in criminal justice and political science at Anderson University in Indiana, says her busy schedule of activities sometimes makes her delay schoolwork.
"I have good intentions, but I'm involved in a lot of stuff," says Booker. "I'm vice president of the Multicultural Student Association and a delegate on the legal committee for the Model United Nations, and I take these seriously. There's a lot of work and research for these projects, and sometimes I put these ahead of my regular schoolwork."
But then, like Ginger White, she gets in the zone.
"I get all the library books and articles, and I just do it. I just start reading, highlighting, taking notes, collecting resources and citations, and I work straight through, usually. I normally do it all day, even if it takes several days. I've worked as much as a week straight, usually every afternoon and night, say 4 p.m. to 2 or 3 in the morning."
She recommends academic procrastinators make sure they have all the books and resources they need well before the deadline, or other students may have them checked out.
Then again, there are students like Martsyl Joseph, who is just finishing her Master of Public Administration degree at IUPUI and will be going on to law school in the fall.
"I don't procrastinate anymore," she says. Joseph overcommitted to activities as an undergrad, she admits, but in graduate school she stays on task.
"The key is to know your limit. Understand that you can't do everything, even though you want to. Pick and choose what's most important to you, and stick to those one or two things. And put education first. You'll have plenty of time after you graduate to do all that other stuff."
So, if procrastination is not debilitating, it may be useful. But if it is debilitating, training in time-management skills is unlikely to achieve a change in behavior. You'll need to change the way you think about your work. For myself, I'm going to get on the next article due, right away. Just as soon as I ...
i found this article below on their MSN-Encarta features/columns section. how i love the way it was written! errr.. maybe because it speaks for me. haha. now i know, procrastination's not that bad. hello to all fellow planners and daydreamers!
Is Procrastination Healthy?
By Don Asher
Do you put off important work until the last minute? So do I. That makes us both procrastinators. In fact, this article was due weeks ago. But since you didn't know that, you weren't missing it, were you?
Only my editors suffer from my work habits. At least, that's what I try to tell myself.
Procrastination costs the country untold millions -- if not billions -- of dollars, though. Missed deadlines create a cascade of problems in a complex, interconnected economy.
California can't seem ever to turn out a timely budget, scads of Americans recently waited weeks and weeks for tardy stimulus checks, and delayed software releases even have their own name, "vaporware."
However, procrastination is not all bad, and not all procrastinators are deficient performers. For example, graduate students are more likely than undergraduates to procrastinate, in spite of being statistically superior students.
Artists often revel in pulling all-nighters full of blasts of creativity and production. The peculiar genius of desperation and 4 a.m. logic is a fecund contributor to the national product. In fact, a little procrastination may be part of living an ambitious and energetic life.
But what about when procrastination goes critical? When relationships are ruined, spouses feel betrayed, bosses are disgusted, and a person is frozen, frustrated, and disillusioned with that nonperformer staring back in the mirror? That's when procrastination is an enemy to mental health.
"In personal relationships, if you say you'll do something and you don't do it, people begin not to trust you," says clinical psychologist Linda Sapadin. "If they can't trust you to do what you say you'll do, that's passive-aggressive, and it creates a lot of disturbance in relationships."
Dr. Sapadin is a national specialist in procrastination, and author of "It's About Time! The Six Styles of Procrastination and How to Overcome Them." In addition to her private practice based on Long Island, she speaks to corporate audiences nationwide on the costs and cures of procrastination.
Classifying procrastinators
It turns out not all procrastinators are alike. Dr. Sapadin's taxonomy identifies six different types. You may recognize yourself in one or more of these:
Perfectionists -- They want every project to be perfect, and this often causes them to be frozen in fear that they cannot meet such an unrealistic goal, even though they set the goal themselves.
Dreamers -- These people suffer from magical thinking. "It'll all work out," they say, while they do nothing to advance their goals.
Crisis Makers -- They often say they do their best work under pressure, but more accurately, they prefer uproar and crisis to do any work at all.
Worriers -- Their fears consume their thought processes and prevent any real work being done, as they imagine and dwell upon every possible scenario for disaster and failure.
Defiers -- These people may resent the assignments in the first place, and retake control over their lives by refusing to do the work in a timely and cooperative manner, or at all.
Overdoers -- Also known as "the pleasers," these people can't say no, and so take on more and more responsibility without any reasonable expectation of being able to deliver on their obligations.
One of the more fascinating findings in the research literature about procrastinators is that time-management training doesn't really help. Procrastinators know perfectly well how to manage time; they just don't want to do their work that way!
When Dr. Sapadin was considering writing her book, "All the existing books had to do with time management or getting organized, but for most people it [procrastination] related to some glitch in their personality style," she says.
So procrastinators have to change their thinking, rather than improve their knowledge of time-management techniques. For more on this, check out Dr. Sapadin's Web site psychwisdom.com.
For example, perfectionists have to tell themselves, "This doesn't have to be perfect. Good enough is just fine. It is more important to be done on time than to do a perfect job. Perfection is unattainable anyway, and it's not what my boss or professor wants."
Crisis makers may need to tell themselves, "I don't really do my best work under pressure. That's just a habit I have. I can do more work if I start sooner, and I'll probably find that some of that work is just as creative and interesting as the work I might do under pressure."
It is this sort of cognitive reprogramming that leads to change.
Procrastination is extremely common in academic settings. In fact, the overwhelming majority of students procrastinate. The American Psychological Association has a guide for educators on how to deal with different types of procrastinating students, "Counseling the Procrastinator in Academic Settings."
It turns out that procrastination is, in fact, a time-management technique. When it's not a destructive force, it allows workers to be hyperproductive in bursts. It's an antidote to that old maxim, "The assignment expands to fill the available time." It's a way to contain an assignment within a smaller block of time.
To see how procrastination works when it is a force for good, I decided to interview some top students about their work habits. The following students are all top performers.
Ginger White, a McNair Scholar and a senior at Indiana University -- Purdue University Indianapolis, readily admits to procrastinating.
"I do work better under pressure, and I'm easily distracted. Little things get in the way, until the deadline gets near." For the final push, though, she says she gathers all the books and reference materials she needs to do the assignment.
"Then, I sit there. I don't care how long it takes. I sit there. I'm in the zone, and the ideas just come, and if I were to try to do this two weeks early, the ideas just wouldn't be there."
This seems to be working for her, as she has a 3.9 GPA in new media and computer sciences.
Brandon Lewis, a music education major at the University of Arkansas at Pine Bluff, and also a McNair Scholar, says he procrastinates "all the time." But he sees a benefit to it.
"When I have a big paper due, I might put it off," he says, but "I'm planning out how I'm going to do it, planning when to do it. I'm thinking about it constantly." So this type of mental rehearsal and preparation helps him get ready to be productive.
Dominique Booker, a double major in criminal justice and political science at Anderson University in Indiana, says her busy schedule of activities sometimes makes her delay schoolwork.
"I have good intentions, but I'm involved in a lot of stuff," says Booker. "I'm vice president of the Multicultural Student Association and a delegate on the legal committee for the Model United Nations, and I take these seriously. There's a lot of work and research for these projects, and sometimes I put these ahead of my regular schoolwork."
But then, like Ginger White, she gets in the zone.
"I get all the library books and articles, and I just do it. I just start reading, highlighting, taking notes, collecting resources and citations, and I work straight through, usually. I normally do it all day, even if it takes several days. I've worked as much as a week straight, usually every afternoon and night, say 4 p.m. to 2 or 3 in the morning."
She recommends academic procrastinators make sure they have all the books and resources they need well before the deadline, or other students may have them checked out.
Then again, there are students like Martsyl Joseph, who is just finishing her Master of Public Administration degree at IUPUI and will be going on to law school in the fall.
"I don't procrastinate anymore," she says. Joseph overcommitted to activities as an undergrad, she admits, but in graduate school she stays on task.
"The key is to know your limit. Understand that you can't do everything, even though you want to. Pick and choose what's most important to you, and stick to those one or two things. And put education first. You'll have plenty of time after you graduate to do all that other stuff."
So, if procrastination is not debilitating, it may be useful. But if it is debilitating, training in time-management skills is unlikely to achieve a change in behavior. You'll need to change the way you think about your work. For myself, I'm going to get on the next article due, right away. Just as soon as I ...
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
borg abunda!
i don't know why, maybe it's because of my addiction to radio programs, but it has become an annoying duty of my bio-clock to bug me very early even after incurring just a couple of hours of good, i mean GOOD sleep.
so here i am, all half-cooked, currently listening to this morning show "Good Times with Mo, Mojo, and Grace Lee," and laughing the devil out of me! seeing that photo down there, i can surmise you're face is already cracking up with hard blows of laughter! let's all be happy today! good times!
here's a verrrry funny entry, posted yesterday on a listener-made blog:
Boy Abunda billboard, photo courtesy of
http://leviuqse.blogspot.com/
so here i am, all half-cooked, currently listening to this morning show "Good Times with Mo, Mojo, and Grace Lee," and laughing the devil out of me! seeing that photo down there, i can surmise you're face is already cracking up with hard blows of laughter! let's all be happy today! good times!
here's a verrrry funny entry, posted yesterday on a listener-made blog:
Boy Abunda billboard, photo courtesy of
Blog reader Chi clued me in to a Boy Abunda billboard that’s now causing a lot of laughter along EDSA and probably some accidents as well… Although I haven’t seen the billboard personally, I did some research and saw a picture of it on the net. It’s for Boy Abunda’s new perfume line and the tagline is a killer: “Kaibigan, nagpabango ka na ba?” ROTFLMAO
Mo asked me to post a picture here for tomorrow’s show and I can’t wait for the reaction from other Good times’ listeners when they see this piece of advertising brilliance, hehe…
Go check it out yourself when you pass by EDSA, according to blog reader Marie, there are some other versions of the same billboard with the same theme located along EDSA near Robinson’s Pioneer…
Definitely some serious competition for the notorious ELLEN billboards…
I can’t wait to shake the hand of the creative genius who thought up this monstrosity, hahaha… And you know what? It’s too early for Halloween!
Damn, tomorrow’s show should be hilarious!
Good times!
*title inspired by one of the hosts, Mojo Jojo: "It kinda reminds me of a character from Star Trek….. parang he’s a “Borg” that mated with Rainbow Brite…. BORG ABUNDA na rainbow edition… oh my! Atesh! I just don’t know where advertising is going to nowadays
At least its “colorful” di b? Hmnnn……"
Mo asked me to post a picture here for tomorrow’s show and I can’t wait for the reaction from other Good times’ listeners when they see this piece of advertising brilliance, hehe…
Go check it out yourself when you pass by EDSA, according to blog reader Marie, there are some other versions of the same billboard with the same theme located along EDSA near Robinson’s Pioneer…
Definitely some serious competition for the notorious ELLEN billboards…
I can’t wait to shake the hand of the creative genius who thought up this monstrosity, hahaha… And you know what? It’s too early for Halloween!
Damn, tomorrow’s show should be hilarious!
Good times!
*title inspired by one of the hosts, Mojo Jojo: "It kinda reminds me of a character from Star Trek….. parang he’s a “Borg” that mated with Rainbow Brite…. BORG ABUNDA na rainbow edition… oh my! Atesh! I just don’t know where advertising is going to nowadays
At least its “colorful” di b? Hmnnn……"
Monday, September 15, 2008
kwentong kalye #1
i have a big problem with umbrellas.
anyway, in the Philippines, where the weather is as moody as a woman in her menopausal stage, umbrellas are, in a way, strong weapons against sickness. well, can you imagine yourself wearing that Disney-character-inspired raincoat your mother used to embarrass you when you were still a moppet? not to mention your oh-so-redundant mini-umbrella, your shiny, colorful rain boots, and your (uhm, again) cartoon-character-inspired stroller bag with a sheet of plastic cover on—it's like you're in for some mock battle down south! crrrrrazy...
so now that you've earned some respect and an ounce of shame for yourself, you realize that umbrellas and plain logic are somehow enough to spare you from hospital beds. set aside the gangs of virus that flutter in the air. it's hard to escape from their merciless claws anyway.
also, it is only in the Philippines where people can get free umbrellas from fast food restaurants, churches, bus stops, classrooms, and jeepneys, courtesy of their careless fellows. talk about perks, man! but how people love walking with this portable roof on top of their heads, i don't even know. more than that, i can't seem to imagine why grownups, especially the typical women who wear dusters and all that, are so numb, they can't even notice the tips of their umbrellas (yes, tips. ferrule's the one on top. oh, i didn't know that, too!) effing your face like they are in prison! in addition to that "more than that" thing, i will never ever understand why it is so hard for people to shut their umbrellas in a roofed pathway, so as not to cause what i would love to call a "human traffic jam," or hold their umbrellas upside-down if they're already shut, and be sensitive enough not to poke their fellow pedestrians with, ehem, ferrules. people can sometimes be so annoying... and then they get inside the jeepney with their wet umbrellas, their muddy shoes landing on yours, the driver speeding more then ever as if trying to catch up for a date with satan—the heck, fools don't even care if water's drooling from their umbrellas down to your pants! then as you reached your classroom/office/whatever, it's as if you've just entered an umbrella exhibit room, with those canopies lying open on the floor like skirts blown up-ways, and like it takes 12 hours for them to get dry.
well, if you would ask me if i carry one, of course i do. who doesn't? ok, some guys don't... and yey! i just got a freebie last week! sorry, classmate. if it's yours, just approach me. i seldom use mine anyway. an umbrella sleeps in my bag for ages, or that whether or not to bring one is always a self-debate. light rain showers are not alarming for me, unless giants up there start to cry so hard, then it's time to give myself some considerations and be decent-looking enough wherever i'm heading to. i just feel a little ashamed that the way i take umbrellas for granted is a different thing for those who use theirs for shelter... or maybe i just think a lot when i'm traveling.
oh well, an umbrella is still an excess baggage for me! whether or not to bring one is always a self-debate.
anyway, in the Philippines, where the weather is as moody as a woman in her menopausal stage, umbrellas are, in a way, strong weapons against sickness. well, can you imagine yourself wearing that Disney-character-inspired raincoat your mother used to embarrass you when you were still a moppet? not to mention your oh-so-redundant mini-umbrella, your shiny, colorful rain boots, and your (uhm, again) cartoon-character-inspired stroller bag with a sheet of plastic cover on—it's like you're in for some mock battle down south! crrrrrazy...
so now that you've earned some respect and an ounce of shame for yourself, you realize that umbrellas and plain logic are somehow enough to spare you from hospital beds. set aside the gangs of virus that flutter in the air. it's hard to escape from their merciless claws anyway.
also, it is only in the Philippines where people can get free umbrellas from fast food restaurants, churches, bus stops, classrooms, and jeepneys, courtesy of their careless fellows. talk about perks, man! but how people love walking with this portable roof on top of their heads, i don't even know. more than that, i can't seem to imagine why grownups, especially the typical women who wear dusters and all that, are so numb, they can't even notice the tips of their umbrellas (yes, tips. ferrule's the one on top. oh, i didn't know that, too!) effing your face like they are in prison! in addition to that "more than that" thing, i will never ever understand why it is so hard for people to shut their umbrellas in a roofed pathway, so as not to cause what i would love to call a "human traffic jam," or hold their umbrellas upside-down if they're already shut, and be sensitive enough not to poke their fellow pedestrians with, ehem, ferrules. people can sometimes be so annoying... and then they get inside the jeepney with their wet umbrellas, their muddy shoes landing on yours, the driver speeding more then ever as if trying to catch up for a date with satan—the heck, fools don't even care if water's drooling from their umbrellas down to your pants! then as you reached your classroom/office/whatever, it's as if you've just entered an umbrella exhibit room, with those canopies lying open on the floor like skirts blown up-ways, and like it takes 12 hours for them to get dry.
well, if you would ask me if i carry one, of course i do. who doesn't? ok, some guys don't... and yey! i just got a freebie last week! sorry, classmate. if it's yours, just approach me. i seldom use mine anyway. an umbrella sleeps in my bag for ages, or that whether or not to bring one is always a self-debate. light rain showers are not alarming for me, unless giants up there start to cry so hard, then it's time to give myself some considerations and be decent-looking enough wherever i'm heading to. i just feel a little ashamed that the way i take umbrellas for granted is a different thing for those who use theirs for shelter... or maybe i just think a lot when i'm traveling.
oh well, an umbrella is still an excess baggage for me! whether or not to bring one is always a self-debate.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
nocturne
he's the song that keeps on playing inside my head
the one i turn to whenever in delight
sound of every string on my blue guitar
sad ivory of my grand piano
lip plate of my old wooden flute
the composer of my song
notes on my music sheet
rhythm of my piece
bars on my staff
staccato
tempo
end
he has, by far, the best melody in this world
the perfect blend of music and poetry
his lyrics found a way to touch my soul...
i'll keep on playing him everyday
until he inspires me no more
until there's no magic left...
still, i'll be listening
'coz until now, i
can't seem to find
a new song
for me
yet
the one i turn to whenever in delight
sound of every string on my blue guitar
sad ivory of my grand piano
lip plate of my old wooden flute
the composer of my song
notes on my music sheet
rhythm of my piece
bars on my staff
staccato
tempo
end
he has, by far, the best melody in this world
the perfect blend of music and poetry
his lyrics found a way to touch my soul...
i'll keep on playing him everyday
until he inspires me no more
until there's no magic left...
still, i'll be listening
'coz until now, i
can't seem to find
a new song
for me
yet
Sunday, August 31, 2008
circus flooded from taguig to dapitan
seeing the moonlight fade though the cresting waves of Dapitan flood kept our eyes open to see the first rays of the sun; spending that entire moment with a friend who shares the same passion for life is nothing but priceless..
i would have died last night had i not been able to catch even the last three or four songs of the Eraserheads reunion concert. luckily, the hands of God worked in favor of my plans. i had to stick my neck out for that one.. i literally had to crash in! although it was cut short because of ely's condition, the mere fact that those four music geniuses sang their most popular hits that paved way for the rebirth of OPM in the 90s right on the same stage once again was more than any e-heads fan could wish for. one word: bliss!
however, death arrived as the earth gave birth to a new day at midnight. god, we were witnesses to lifting a decapitated man who was swimming in his own blood and splatted organs under a ten-wheeler truck, somewhere along Sta. Mesa! after which, joseinne and i had some beer at Dapitan Square and had some moments to unwind. we ate sisig (no other choice) just like swallowing a bitter pill, with the incident so fresh, so vivid in our memory. it was way traumatic and freaking..
(random: a line from dave matthews band's grace is gone kept on running through my head--"one more drink and i'll move on.")
the first quarter of our sunday was spent with our usual philo talks. that's what i love about my closest friends.. (and god, how i miss my cousin, too!) i could dedicate my whole day talking with them about anything.. not just about what the skin can feel and what the eyes can behold.. these are stories larger than life--those that uplift the spirit and nurture your being. i guess joseinne got it right when she said, "What we really need are people whom we can share our quotes with." you take an effort to know a little of everything and share a piece of you.. but, whatever happened to those who do? lonely, choosy, and bitter.. her words hit me right, "Look at us." haha!
well, one of the nicest benefits of having your school situated in a naturally low-lying area (thanks for the beautiful phrase in defense of UST river, joycee) is that when you got stranded, you tend to have quality time learning the best lessons of life, apart from books and theories alone.. although getting to a safer place wasn't really that easy. this is, by the way, joseinne's letter M on her blog: crossing the flooded lacson street with tina at one in the morning and while both of us were tipsy. yup, almost knee-high flood + booze + 1 a.m. + idiots like us = relentless laughter. but then again, it was amazing how our feet drenched on the same water within which the early-morning people of Manila painstakingly take steps to make a living. i shudder to think how hazy life is in this city.
There hath he lain for ages, and will lie
Battening upon huge seaworms in his sleep,
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;
Then once by man and angels to be seen,
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.
-from The Kraken; Lord Alfred Tennyson (1830)
and then the sun shone through the same ripples that cloaked the life of Dapitan during those serene moments.. one hell of an experience!
i would have died last night had i not been able to catch even the last three or four songs of the Eraserheads reunion concert. luckily, the hands of God worked in favor of my plans. i had to stick my neck out for that one.. i literally had to crash in! although it was cut short because of ely's condition, the mere fact that those four music geniuses sang their most popular hits that paved way for the rebirth of OPM in the 90s right on the same stage once again was more than any e-heads fan could wish for. one word: bliss!
however, death arrived as the earth gave birth to a new day at midnight. god, we were witnesses to lifting a decapitated man who was swimming in his own blood and splatted organs under a ten-wheeler truck, somewhere along Sta. Mesa! after which, joseinne and i had some beer at Dapitan Square and had some moments to unwind. we ate sisig (no other choice) just like swallowing a bitter pill, with the incident so fresh, so vivid in our memory. it was way traumatic and freaking..
(random: a line from dave matthews band's grace is gone kept on running through my head--"one more drink and i'll move on.")
the first quarter of our sunday was spent with our usual philo talks. that's what i love about my closest friends.. (and god, how i miss my cousin, too!) i could dedicate my whole day talking with them about anything.. not just about what the skin can feel and what the eyes can behold.. these are stories larger than life--those that uplift the spirit and nurture your being. i guess joseinne got it right when she said, "What we really need are people whom we can share our quotes with." you take an effort to know a little of everything and share a piece of you.. but, whatever happened to those who do? lonely, choosy, and bitter.. her words hit me right, "Look at us." haha!
well, one of the nicest benefits of having your school situated in a naturally low-lying area (thanks for the beautiful phrase in defense of UST river, joycee) is that when you got stranded, you tend to have quality time learning the best lessons of life, apart from books and theories alone.. although getting to a safer place wasn't really that easy. this is, by the way, joseinne's letter M on her blog: crossing the flooded lacson street with tina at one in the morning and while both of us were tipsy. yup, almost knee-high flood + booze + 1 a.m. + idiots like us = relentless laughter. but then again, it was amazing how our feet drenched on the same water within which the early-morning people of Manila painstakingly take steps to make a living. i shudder to think how hazy life is in this city.
There hath he lain for ages, and will lie
Battening upon huge seaworms in his sleep,
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;
Then once by man and angels to be seen,
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.
-from The Kraken; Lord Alfred Tennyson (1830)
and then the sun shone through the same ripples that cloaked the life of Dapitan during those serene moments.. one hell of an experience!
Thursday, August 28, 2008
kill the e-heads fans instead
so, mo twister said it...
eraserheads is gonna have its reunion concert this saturday at the CCP. *sigh*
i didn't know how i felt when i first heard it on the radio this morning. it's not because of the P800 or P1300 fee, although, yes, it would have sounded better if the concert was really for free.. hey! don't play hypocrite! we're all in dire need of money, so shut up. although i don't really like mo, i loved it when he said that the game plan was so weak, that the news would just fly into the air like "really? so tapos na yun?"
so what about this strategy? i don't get the point why they had to entice, i mean, lure the people into this much awaited and almost-impossible-but-possible-indeed reunion concert of e-heads for months, only to pull out our wings for a gayer and more desperate situation. i must admit, i want it badly! but i have to come up with excuses and lame reasons to convince myself that i would not, in any way, be able to watch it.
so here are some of my childish speculations. let's just say that the e-heads concert has been announced formally, following the normal scheme of promoting gigs and other major events. whether or not the tickets are for free, it would sure as hell cause panic among e-heads fanatics. ticketnet would be swarmed with an irate mob, wherein people would kill each other with violent blows of smashes and jabs just to secure a single pass for each. there would be a riot outside their main office, after which meddlesome poser youth on skateboards and emo costumes would wrap the vicinity, squeezing voodoo dolls on every hole they see. then they would take out their mini tear gas canisters that they use as self defense from TBS/TST gangsters, take the caps off and then throw them on glass windows for the gas to squirt all over the office.. honestly, i doubt it if no posers would show up their faces in the concert. they make a quarter of the population of the Philippines and they are present at every corner in the country.
or maybe, if the public was properly informed about the event, and that it would be an open concert like those graced by aspiring rock bands (oh well, it pains me, but let's give them the license to be called as such this time) like cueshe and shamrock on liquor-sponsored gigs on barangay halls, then the rest of the humanity who are desperately in love with e-heads would flock to the venue, step onto each other's throat and murder their fellow audience in ripples and waves. they would eventually reach the stage and kill the members of e-heads themselves, taking a piece of limb one by one for souvenirs. oh how i love eric gamalinda's las ruinas del corazon! (i guess this would make a good episode for happy tree friends.)
so now i thank the producers for making the event less-accessible to the public; at least nobody's gonna get harmed. wow! one shining halo for me!
well, i'm not a die-hard e-heads fan, but i love their music down to my last bone.. and now i hate myself for stooping down into the level of being a total dork for signing up for the red list of Marlboro last month, just to have a one-in-a-million chance of securing a ticket for this event.. well, you have to prove first that you are of legal age before being able to pursue with the application, and it was hell! now i think i lost my passport without even having it scanned (procrastination is the biggest tag on my vocabulary). look at what i had to do to sink my teeth into this thing.. and now the concert is just two days away and i still don't have a ticket (i don't even know if they are still available at this time) and a companion, so there are no other means for me to crash in but, yeah, crash in! as if i can, and as if i will...
(see what happens to journalism students after cracking their brains empty with nosebleed lectures on literature, capped with as-if-we-care provisions on taxation during thursdays? and mind you, today is the 28th -- my most unfortunate date -- or at least i started writing this blog on that date. sorry, i just don't have anything productive to do tonight so i played with my keyboard... shoot me.)
eraserheads is gonna have its reunion concert this saturday at the CCP. *sigh*
i didn't know how i felt when i first heard it on the radio this morning. it's not because of the P800 or P1300 fee, although, yes, it would have sounded better if the concert was really for free.. hey! don't play hypocrite! we're all in dire need of money, so shut up. although i don't really like mo, i loved it when he said that the game plan was so weak, that the news would just fly into the air like "really? so tapos na yun?"
so what about this strategy? i don't get the point why they had to entice, i mean, lure the people into this much awaited and almost-impossible-but-possible-indeed reunion concert of e-heads for months, only to pull out our wings for a gayer and more desperate situation. i must admit, i want it badly! but i have to come up with excuses and lame reasons to convince myself that i would not, in any way, be able to watch it.
so here are some of my childish speculations. let's just say that the e-heads concert has been announced formally, following the normal scheme of promoting gigs and other major events. whether or not the tickets are for free, it would sure as hell cause panic among e-heads fanatics. ticketnet would be swarmed with an irate mob, wherein people would kill each other with violent blows of smashes and jabs just to secure a single pass for each. there would be a riot outside their main office, after which meddlesome poser youth on skateboards and emo costumes would wrap the vicinity, squeezing voodoo dolls on every hole they see. then they would take out their mini tear gas canisters that they use as self defense from TBS/TST gangsters, take the caps off and then throw them on glass windows for the gas to squirt all over the office.. honestly, i doubt it if no posers would show up their faces in the concert. they make a quarter of the population of the Philippines and they are present at every corner in the country.
or maybe, if the public was properly informed about the event, and that it would be an open concert like those graced by aspiring rock bands (oh well, it pains me, but let's give them the license to be called as such this time) like cueshe and shamrock on liquor-sponsored gigs on barangay halls, then the rest of the humanity who are desperately in love with e-heads would flock to the venue, step onto each other's throat and murder their fellow audience in ripples and waves. they would eventually reach the stage and kill the members of e-heads themselves, taking a piece of limb one by one for souvenirs. oh how i love eric gamalinda's las ruinas del corazon! (i guess this would make a good episode for happy tree friends.)
so now i thank the producers for making the event less-accessible to the public; at least nobody's gonna get harmed. wow! one shining halo for me!
well, i'm not a die-hard e-heads fan, but i love their music down to my last bone.. and now i hate myself for stooping down into the level of being a total dork for signing up for the red list of Marlboro last month, just to have a one-in-a-million chance of securing a ticket for this event.. well, you have to prove first that you are of legal age before being able to pursue with the application, and it was hell! now i think i lost my passport without even having it scanned (procrastination is the biggest tag on my vocabulary). look at what i had to do to sink my teeth into this thing.. and now the concert is just two days away and i still don't have a ticket (i don't even know if they are still available at this time) and a companion, so there are no other means for me to crash in but, yeah, crash in! as if i can, and as if i will...
(see what happens to journalism students after cracking their brains empty with nosebleed lectures on literature, capped with as-if-we-care provisions on taxation during thursdays? and mind you, today is the 28th -- my most unfortunate date -- or at least i started writing this blog on that date. sorry, i just don't have anything productive to do tonight so i played with my keyboard... shoot me.)
Monday, August 25, 2008
newspapers will eventually be like dinosaurs
no, it's not that your favorite daily thinking slabs will become extremely gigantic..
i stumbled into this Inquirer.net news about a metrowide protest vs VAT for wage hike on thursday, and got alamed, not just of what is about to unfold the next three days, but because of the threatening growth of internet broadcast, that it would possibly eat the newspaper industry alive!
Inquirer was fast enough to update the world with the latest whatever, i mean WHATEVER, that the same article i read was posted just about the same time i started doing this blog, and now i'm freakin' scared of what lies ahead after graduation, and it doubles day after day, especially when people talk about the future extinction of newspapers and readers. yes, you read it right. READERS. it's not surprising that more people now subscribe to podcasts than spend their time reading, so how's that? will there be enough place for aspiring writers? or should we imagine ourselves venturing the cyberspace just to give a slice of justice to that piece of parchment called diploma?
my time frame is decaying. my energy needs oil change and iron pumps. my body clock shouts for new Ultimate Lithium batteries. my virtual calendar is in dire need of check-up... and oh, i'm having an LSD! (that's Lack of Soul Disease for you... i learned that from my classmate, Aphrodite) maybe i'm still infected with a lot of graveyard shift diseases that ran in my blood for almost two years, not to mention the circus in school and the overly-polluted metro manila.
i dunno where else this would go... i just feel that my habitual asking of "What day is it today?" should now be "What's in today?" thanks for blogs and online social networks. we're somehow used to this kind of thing.. and to Sir Atalia's workshop, too. we're used to "almost anything."
so after graduation....
HELLO CYBERSPACE!!!
i stumbled into this Inquirer.net news about a metrowide protest vs VAT for wage hike on thursday, and got alamed, not just of what is about to unfold the next three days, but because of the threatening growth of internet broadcast, that it would possibly eat the newspaper industry alive!
Inquirer was fast enough to update the world with the latest whatever, i mean WHATEVER, that the same article i read was posted just about the same time i started doing this blog, and now i'm freakin' scared of what lies ahead after graduation, and it doubles day after day, especially when people talk about the future extinction of newspapers and readers. yes, you read it right. READERS. it's not surprising that more people now subscribe to podcasts than spend their time reading, so how's that? will there be enough place for aspiring writers? or should we imagine ourselves venturing the cyberspace just to give a slice of justice to that piece of parchment called diploma?
my time frame is decaying. my energy needs oil change and iron pumps. my body clock shouts for new Ultimate Lithium batteries. my virtual calendar is in dire need of check-up... and oh, i'm having an LSD! (that's Lack of Soul Disease for you... i learned that from my classmate, Aphrodite) maybe i'm still infected with a lot of graveyard shift diseases that ran in my blood for almost two years, not to mention the circus in school and the overly-polluted metro manila.
i dunno where else this would go... i just feel that my habitual asking of "What day is it today?" should now be "What's in today?" thanks for blogs and online social networks. we're somehow used to this kind of thing.. and to Sir Atalia's workshop, too. we're used to "almost anything."
so after graduation....
HELLO CYBERSPACE!!!
eXXXcuses
presenting...
the descendants of the queen of the blondes!!!
and their unlucky kids....
School Excuses from Parents
SUPPOSEDLY these are actual excuse notes from parents (with the original spelling) collected from schools all around the United States.
****************
My son is under a doctor's care and shouldn't take PE today. Please execute him. (thanks to Delores Maldeos)
Amy did not do her homework last night because we went out to a party and did not get home until late. If she is tired, please let her sleep during recess time.
Diane was late on Wednesday. She fell asleep on the bus and was taken back to the bus yard.
Please excuse my son from being absent yesterday, because there is a river in our house.
Please excuse Tommy for being absent yesterday. He had diarrheea and his boots leak.
Henry stayed home because he had a stomach ache from eating too much frosting.
Ralph was absent yesterday because of a sour throat.
Please excuse Lisa for being absent. She was sick, so I had her shot.
Please exscuse John from being absent Jan. 28, 29, 30, 31, 32 and also 33.
Cody was absent yesterday because we were out bowling until 2 AM.
Gloria was absent yesterday as she was having a gangover.
Please excuse Gloria from Jim today. She is administrating.
It was my fault Mike did not do his math homework last night. His pencil broke and we do not have a pencil sharpener at home.
Please excuse Roland from PE for a few days. Yesterday he fell out of a tree and misplaced his hip.
Please excuse Wayne for being out yesterday. He had the fuel.
John has been absent from school because he had two teeth taken out of his face.
Tommy wasn't in school yesterday because he thought it was Saturday.
Please excuse Lupe. She is having problems with her ovals.
Scott didn't practice last night because he lost his tooth in the mouthpiece of his trumpet.
Carlos was absent yesterday because he was playing football. He was hurt in the growing part.
Megan could not come to school today because she has been bothered by very close veins.
Ralph was absent yesterday because he had a sore trout.
Jerry was at his grandmother's yesterday, and she did not bring him to school because Jerry couldn't remember where the school was.
Chris will not be in school today cus he has an acre in his side.
Please excuse my daughter's absence. She had her periodicals.
Please excuse my son. He will be out next week slaughtering goats for his manhood ritual. Thank you!
Please excuse Ray from school Friday. He had very loose vowels.
Please excuse Burma, she has been sick and under the doctor.
George was absent yesterday because he had a stomach.
Irving was absent yesterday because he missed his bust.
Please excuse Jimmy from being. It was his father's fault.
Ronnie would not finish his work last night. He said his brain was too tired of spelling.
I kept Billie home because she had to go Christmas shopping because I don't know what size she wears.
Please excuse Jennifer for missing school yesterday. We forgot to get the Sunday paper off the porch and when we found it Monday, we thought it was Sunday.
Sally won't be in school a week from friday. We have to attend her funeral.
My daughter was absent yesterday because she was tired. She spent a weekend with the Marines.
Please excuse Jason for being absent yesterday. He had a cold and could not breed well.
Please excuse Mary for being absent yesterday. She was in bed with gramps.
Eric hurt his knee in a karate tournament over the weekend. He won his age group, but was in too much pain to do his math assignment.
Maryann was absent December 11-16 because she had a fever, sore throat, headache and upset stomach. Her sister was also sick, fever and sore throat, her brother had a low grade fever and ached all over. I wasn't the best either, sore throat and fever. There must be something going around, her father even got hot last night.
The basement of our house got flooded where the children sleep so they had to be vaporized.
Please forgive Clarence for being absent from school the past few days. He was home sick from an operation. He had penis trouble and had to be serpent-sized.
Please excuse little Jimmy from missing school yesterday. His father is gone and I could not get him ready because I was in bed with the Doctor.
****************
© 2008 compiled from many sources by Howard Daughters
the descendants of the queen of the blondes!!!
and their unlucky kids....
School Excuses from Parents
SUPPOSEDLY these are actual excuse notes from parents (with the original spelling) collected from schools all around the United States.
****************
My son is under a doctor's care and shouldn't take PE today. Please execute him. (thanks to Delores Maldeos)
Amy did not do her homework last night because we went out to a party and did not get home until late. If she is tired, please let her sleep during recess time.
Diane was late on Wednesday. She fell asleep on the bus and was taken back to the bus yard.
Please excuse my son from being absent yesterday, because there is a river in our house.
Please excuse Tommy for being absent yesterday. He had diarrheea and his boots leak.
Henry stayed home because he had a stomach ache from eating too much frosting.
Ralph was absent yesterday because of a sour throat.
Please excuse Lisa for being absent. She was sick, so I had her shot.
Please exscuse John from being absent Jan. 28, 29, 30, 31, 32 and also 33.
Cody was absent yesterday because we were out bowling until 2 AM.
Gloria was absent yesterday as she was having a gangover.
Please excuse Gloria from Jim today. She is administrating.
It was my fault Mike did not do his math homework last night. His pencil broke and we do not have a pencil sharpener at home.
Please excuse Roland from PE for a few days. Yesterday he fell out of a tree and misplaced his hip.
Please excuse Wayne for being out yesterday. He had the fuel.
John has been absent from school because he had two teeth taken out of his face.
Tommy wasn't in school yesterday because he thought it was Saturday.
Please excuse Lupe. She is having problems with her ovals.
Scott didn't practice last night because he lost his tooth in the mouthpiece of his trumpet.
Carlos was absent yesterday because he was playing football. He was hurt in the growing part.
Megan could not come to school today because she has been bothered by very close veins.
Ralph was absent yesterday because he had a sore trout.
Jerry was at his grandmother's yesterday, and she did not bring him to school because Jerry couldn't remember where the school was.
Chris will not be in school today cus he has an acre in his side.
Please excuse my daughter's absence. She had her periodicals.
Please excuse my son. He will be out next week slaughtering goats for his manhood ritual. Thank you!
Please excuse Ray from school Friday. He had very loose vowels.
Please excuse Burma, she has been sick and under the doctor.
George was absent yesterday because he had a stomach.
Irving was absent yesterday because he missed his bust.
Please excuse Jimmy from being. It was his father's fault.
Ronnie would not finish his work last night. He said his brain was too tired of spelling.
I kept Billie home because she had to go Christmas shopping because I don't know what size she wears.
Please excuse Jennifer for missing school yesterday. We forgot to get the Sunday paper off the porch and when we found it Monday, we thought it was Sunday.
Sally won't be in school a week from friday. We have to attend her funeral.
My daughter was absent yesterday because she was tired. She spent a weekend with the Marines.
Please excuse Jason for being absent yesterday. He had a cold and could not breed well.
Please excuse Mary for being absent yesterday. She was in bed with gramps.
Eric hurt his knee in a karate tournament over the weekend. He won his age group, but was in too much pain to do his math assignment.
Maryann was absent December 11-16 because she had a fever, sore throat, headache and upset stomach. Her sister was also sick, fever and sore throat, her brother had a low grade fever and ached all over. I wasn't the best either, sore throat and fever. There must be something going around, her father even got hot last night.
The basement of our house got flooded where the children sleep so they had to be vaporized.
Please forgive Clarence for being absent from school the past few days. He was home sick from an operation. He had penis trouble and had to be serpent-sized.
Please excuse little Jimmy from missing school yesterday. His father is gone and I could not get him ready because I was in bed with the Doctor.
****************
© 2008 compiled from many sources by Howard Daughters
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
before sunrise: a sort of review :p
dear God,
give me an Ethan Hawke.
someone i will meet on a subway
whose mind i will get to know first
before all the pleasures on earth
someone who still believes in ghosts and fairy tales
whose stories are fresh, innocent, young and new
whose thoughts thrust the deepest
someone i'd love to see when i close my eyes
whose face, lovely as the sunrise
and painful as the sunset
someone whose smile brings new life to the morning
whose voice, cold as the moonless night
his mere sigh completes this journey
we'd be talking forever
about life, dreams, love, and passion
stardust would fall on our hands, and we are married
give us a palmist, a pianist, and playwrights
and people who will drive us crazy,
we'd be lying down the grass, kissing underneath the endless sky
bring us on top of the city
where we can see the lights fading
the world waning, 'til it's just the two of us
and we will meet a poet by the riverside
who will sing away the troubles of our lonely past
and write our story over milk shake and cigarettes
bring us to the cemetery
where we can bury our fears of death
and remind us that tomorrow, our hearts will die in grief
for that man, whom i will meet on a subway
will be the sweetest enemy of my fate
with whom saying goodbye will be the hardest
but let our paths cross again after some years
and give us not a single minute to blame
ourselves, for breaking our promise
grant us, o Lord, the night we had together
i will hold him tight and kiss him
'til we finally consume, all, before sunrise...
Julie
Sunday, August 10, 2008
walking in mid-air
i never thought this day would end swiftly as a verse that falls to the soul like dew to the pasture...
The Day the Saucers Came
by Neil Gaiman
That day, the saucers landed. Hundreds of them, golden,
Silent, coming down from the sky like great snowflakes,
And the people of Earth stood and stared as they descended,
Waiting, dry-mouthed to find what waited inside for us
And none of us knowing if we would be here tomorrow
But you didn't notice it because
That day, the day the saucers came, by some coincidence,
Was the day that the graves gave up their dead
And the zombies pushed up through soft earth
or erupted, shambling and dull-eyed, unstoppable,
Came towards us, the living, and we screamed and ran,
But you did not notice this because
On the saucer day, which was the zombie day, it was
Ragnarok also, and the television screens showed us
A ship built of dead-man's nails, a serpent, a wolf,
All bigger than the mind could hold, and the cameraman could
Not get far enough away, and then the Gods came out
But you did not see them coming because
On the saucer-zombie-battling gods day the floodgates broke
And each of us was engulfed by genies and sprites
Offering us wishes and wonders and eternities
And charm and cleverness and true brave hearts and pots of gold
While giants feefofummed across the land, and killer bees,
But you had no idea of any of this because
That day, the saucer day the zombie day
The Ragnarok and fairies day, the day the great winds came
And snows, and the cities turned to crystal, the day
All plants died, plastics dissolved, the day the
Computers turned, the screens telling us we would obey, the day
Angels, drunk and muddled, stumbled from the bars,
And all the bells of London were sounded, the day
Animals spoke to us in Assyrian, the Yeti day,
The fluttering capes and arrival of the Time Machine day,
You didn't notice any of this because
you were sitting in your room, not doing anything
not even reading, not really, just
looking at your telephone,
wondering if I was going to call.
***thanks, monique...
The Day the Saucers Came
by Neil Gaiman
That day, the saucers landed. Hundreds of them, golden,
Silent, coming down from the sky like great snowflakes,
And the people of Earth stood and stared as they descended,
Waiting, dry-mouthed to find what waited inside for us
And none of us knowing if we would be here tomorrow
But you didn't notice it because
That day, the day the saucers came, by some coincidence,
Was the day that the graves gave up their dead
And the zombies pushed up through soft earth
or erupted, shambling and dull-eyed, unstoppable,
Came towards us, the living, and we screamed and ran,
But you did not notice this because
On the saucer day, which was the zombie day, it was
Ragnarok also, and the television screens showed us
A ship built of dead-man's nails, a serpent, a wolf,
All bigger than the mind could hold, and the cameraman could
Not get far enough away, and then the Gods came out
But you did not see them coming because
On the saucer-zombie-battling gods day the floodgates broke
And each of us was engulfed by genies and sprites
Offering us wishes and wonders and eternities
And charm and cleverness and true brave hearts and pots of gold
While giants feefofummed across the land, and killer bees,
But you had no idea of any of this because
That day, the saucer day the zombie day
The Ragnarok and fairies day, the day the great winds came
And snows, and the cities turned to crystal, the day
All plants died, plastics dissolved, the day the
Computers turned, the screens telling us we would obey, the day
Angels, drunk and muddled, stumbled from the bars,
And all the bells of London were sounded, the day
Animals spoke to us in Assyrian, the Yeti day,
The fluttering capes and arrival of the Time Machine day,
You didn't notice any of this because
you were sitting in your room, not doing anything
not even reading, not really, just
looking at your telephone,
wondering if I was going to call.
***thanks, monique...
Saturday, August 09, 2008
so now this is random
they say and "we" say that july and august are love months. although there is none to share these overflowing emotions that we get from a handful of heart-melting and subtle lines of great poets with, my friends and i, who are so consumed with the potion of staggering words, found a way to at least size them down into a cupped-hand size, say, to sublime and scale them into something bearable by humans...
"if a woman submits herself to a man with whom she does not feel anything, then there must be a pay for that because she suddenly turned herself into a prostitute..."
"love has its destructive nature..."
"Let me come to be still in your silence
And let me talk to you with your silence
That is bright as a lamp
Simple, as a ring
You are like the night
With its stillness and constellations
Your silence is that of a star As remote and candid"
-- from I Like For You To Be Still; Pablo Neruda
(**it is only in your silence that you can say so much....)
"love is like a strong horse for those who cannot handle it..."
"In that book which is
My memory...
On the first page
That is the chapter when I first met you
Appear the words...
Here begins a new life."
--from La Vita Nuova; Dante Alighieri
"love is not situated in the heart, for it decays when you die..."
"To me he seems a peer of the gods, the man who sits facing
you and hears your sweet voice
and lovely laughter; it flutters my heart in my breast. When I see you
only for a moment, I cannot speak;
my tongue is broken, a subtle fire runs under my skin; my eyes cannot
see, my ears hum;
cold sweat pours off me; shivering grips me all over; I am paler than
grass; I seem near to dying;
but all must be endured..."
--Sappho
"because that is the nature of love, because one walks alone
through the ruins of the heart, because the young must sleep
with their eyes open, because the angels tremble
from so much beauty, because memory moves in orbits
of absence, because she holds her hands out in the rain,
and rain remembers nothing, not even how it became itself."
--from Las Ruinas del Corazon; Mario Eric Gamalinda
and again, I also could not find any way to cut these lines short:
"Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, "The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance."
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, and sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight tries to find her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voide, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her."
--Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines; Pablo Neruda
"if a woman submits herself to a man with whom she does not feel anything, then there must be a pay for that because she suddenly turned herself into a prostitute..."
"love has its destructive nature..."
"Let me come to be still in your silence
And let me talk to you with your silence
That is bright as a lamp
Simple, as a ring
You are like the night
With its stillness and constellations
Your silence is that of a star As remote and candid"
-- from I Like For You To Be Still; Pablo Neruda
(**it is only in your silence that you can say so much....)
"love is like a strong horse for those who cannot handle it..."
"In that book which is
My memory...
On the first page
That is the chapter when I first met you
Appear the words...
Here begins a new life."
--from La Vita Nuova; Dante Alighieri
"love is not situated in the heart, for it decays when you die..."
"To me he seems a peer of the gods, the man who sits facing
you and hears your sweet voice
and lovely laughter; it flutters my heart in my breast. When I see you
only for a moment, I cannot speak;
my tongue is broken, a subtle fire runs under my skin; my eyes cannot
see, my ears hum;
cold sweat pours off me; shivering grips me all over; I am paler than
grass; I seem near to dying;
but all must be endured..."
--Sappho
"because that is the nature of love, because one walks alone
through the ruins of the heart, because the young must sleep
with their eyes open, because the angels tremble
from so much beauty, because memory moves in orbits
of absence, because she holds her hands out in the rain,
and rain remembers nothing, not even how it became itself."
--from Las Ruinas del Corazon; Mario Eric Gamalinda
and again, I also could not find any way to cut these lines short:
"Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, "The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance."
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, and sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight tries to find her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voide, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her."
--Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines; Pablo Neruda
Thursday, August 07, 2008
how a song transcends the soul
words are not enough to explain as to what extent of glory one suddenly reaches when falling on a deep trance (see the irony? love it!). each song has its own special way of seeping through your bones. the feeling is relative that only you can describe how its fire keeps on burning forever. shoot me for coming up with an unimaginative title and call me whatever you like because at any rate, this is not a "how to" entry.
here's one of the most influential music geniuses of the 80s, the contemporary Christian singer/songwriter Michael W. Smith. probably you're a fellow who grew up with the kind of songs this so-called new generation loves to despise or bastardize nowadays. anyway, another song i love from this music titan is Somewhere, Somehow, which is a duet with an equally great singer, Amy Grant. it's a good toast for hopeless romantics.
i can get hold of the perfect blend of poetry and music in his songs... in his lips, the passion and love for the art... and in his eyes, i can almost see his soul...
i guess this is what you call "real" music.
I Will Be Here for You
When you feel the sunlight
Fade into the cold night
Don't know where to turn
I don't know where to turn
And all the dreams you're dreaming
Seem to lose their meaning
Let me in your world
Baby, let me in your world
All you need is someone you can hold
Don't be sad, you're not alone
I will be here for you
Somewhere in the night
Somewhere in the night
I'll shine a light for you
Somewhere in the night
I'll be standing by
I will be here for you
In this world of strangers
Of cold and friendly faces
Someone you can trust
Oh there's someone you can trust
I will be your shelter
I'll give you my shoulder
Just reach out for my love
Reach out for my love
Call my name and my heart will hear you
I will be there, there's nothing to fear
here's one of the most influential music geniuses of the 80s, the contemporary Christian singer/songwriter Michael W. Smith. probably you're a fellow who grew up with the kind of songs this so-called new generation loves to despise or bastardize nowadays. anyway, another song i love from this music titan is Somewhere, Somehow, which is a duet with an equally great singer, Amy Grant. it's a good toast for hopeless romantics.
i can get hold of the perfect blend of poetry and music in his songs... in his lips, the passion and love for the art... and in his eyes, i can almost see his soul...
i guess this is what you call "real" music.
I Will Be Here for You
When you feel the sunlight
Fade into the cold night
Don't know where to turn
I don't know where to turn
And all the dreams you're dreaming
Seem to lose their meaning
Let me in your world
Baby, let me in your world
All you need is someone you can hold
Don't be sad, you're not alone
I will be here for you
Somewhere in the night
Somewhere in the night
I'll shine a light for you
Somewhere in the night
I'll be standing by
I will be here for you
In this world of strangers
Of cold and friendly faces
Someone you can trust
Oh there's someone you can trust
I will be your shelter
I'll give you my shoulder
Just reach out for my love
Reach out for my love
Call my name and my heart will hear you
I will be there, there's nothing to fear
so far the best date i've ever had
instead of spending P200 over a glass of ice-cold frappe in an irksome, social-climber-infested place, why don't you go on asking a beggar out for a date? believe me, it's rewarding!
i'm not trying to sound like a philanthropist or a wish-a-wish foundation advocate. i didn't even expect that i would be able to experience this kind of thing. in fact, it was a blessing in disguise! i went to Quiapo yesterday without anything on my brain, trying to come up with an interview with the heretics and a cocktail of opportunists that surround the church for God knows how long. i had no plan at all. nada! all i knew was that i wanted to raise the irony in the place; nothing more, nothing less...
i'll try not to go over the details anymore, as this is just like another bullet on my brain. well, maybe tomorrow; maybe later... my fingers never know how to stop...
"i hugged her son. the little angel's touching the piercings on my ear. his giggle was soft... sweet.-- that was by far the most sentimental hug that i have ever felt..."
i seldom go to church, but what happened yesterday was a living proof which reminded me that there is a God.
i'm not trying to sound like a philanthropist or a wish-a-wish foundation advocate. i didn't even expect that i would be able to experience this kind of thing. in fact, it was a blessing in disguise! i went to Quiapo yesterday without anything on my brain, trying to come up with an interview with the heretics and a cocktail of opportunists that surround the church for God knows how long. i had no plan at all. nada! all i knew was that i wanted to raise the irony in the place; nothing more, nothing less...
i'll try not to go over the details anymore, as this is just like another bullet on my brain. well, maybe tomorrow; maybe later... my fingers never know how to stop...
"i hugged her son. the little angel's touching the piercings on my ear. his giggle was soft... sweet.-- that was by far the most sentimental hug that i have ever felt..."
i seldom go to church, but what happened yesterday was a living proof which reminded me that there is a God.
Saturday, August 02, 2008
surfing
matagal-tagal na rin akong hindi nakakadalaw sa yahoo groups ng Bobong Pinoy, the one dedicated for the love of Bob Ong's books. enjoy sa YG na yan. marami kang malalaman kung ano at paano na ang takbo ng utak ng mga tao ngayon. totoo nga naman, hindi lahat ng Pilipino ay tanga; hindi kagaya ng nirereflect ng mga nakaraan, kasalukyan, at mga susunod pang delubyo sa bansa.
hindi ko alam kung anong gumising sa'kin kanina... basta maaga, kahit umaga na rin akong natulog. hindi ko rin alam kung bakit sa tinagal-tagal na nakatiwangwang ng group na yan sa panel ng account ko sa YG, kanina ko lang naisip makiusisang muli sa mga bobong pilosopo.
ewan ko ba kung matatawa ako o ano. para kasing scene lang sa Lilo and Stitch. sabi nga sa peyborit kong series na Pushing Daisies,
Narrator: At that moment, the Pie Maker felt a mixture of happiness and trepidation.
Ned: Why is it always a mixture?
hindi ko rin alam kung ilang mura at barang pa ang matatanggap ni gory-a and the rest of the politicians na nagmamarunong at nagnanakaw at the same time. na-off nga lang ako kasi sa muling pagbisita ko sa bobong pinoy yg, medyo hindi ko nagustuhan yung ilang laman. tapang kasi ng latest post dun: "Walang Kwenta ang Pilipinas." naisip ko lang, wawa naman ang Pinas.. kawawa na nga, kinakawawa pa. sino ba talaga ang may kasalanan? maaaring "walang kwenta sa Pilipinas", pero hindi "walang kwenta ang Pilipinas."
kung kwentahan na rin lang naman ang pag-uusapan, sino ba talaga ang walang kwenta? saan sa tingin nyo napupunta ang tax na lumalatay sa bawat payslip na tatagal lang ng ilang araw ang laman sa bulsa nyo? ano na ang nangyari sa P16 billion na tax windfall mula sa EVAT ng uber mahal na Dubai oil? ano ba talaga ang nangyari sa bigas? natabunan na ba ng tuluyan ang issue sa kuryente? kamusta na ang mga magsasakang halos tumira na sa gilid ng Department of Agriculture? kailan kakanta ng "low low low" ang mga gasoline boy? malilimutan na lang ba ng tao ang balita ni gory-a na P0.50 na lang per text? lalo bang manganganak at mag-aanak ng mga future magnanakaw at makakagawa na ba sila ng sariling tribo at dialect sa bansa? tataas ba sa 1:10 ang hatian sa isang libro? magiging box office hit bang lalo ang lecture ni ma'am sa sobrang kakapusan sa klasrum? pero bakit ang tataba ng congressmen?
ngayon, sino ba talaga ang may kasalanan?
baka naman ikaw. oo, ikaw. ikaw na walang ginawa kundi mag-internet buong magdamag. ikaw na mahilig dumisplay sa gilid ng salamin ng starbucks, suot ang bago pero kahit anong gawin mo ay goma pa rin, gomang havaianas nga lang. ikaw na wala kunong pakialam pero affected din sa paghataw ng pamasahe all the way to P10. sigurado yan. bilang na lang tayo ng ilang araw. o baka naman may car ka. pero kahit anong kaplastikan gawin mo, aminin mo, affected ka rin sa pagtaas ng presyo ng gasolina.
baka rin ako. akong wala ring ginawa kundi mag-internet magdamag. nag-aaral kunyari pero mas gusto pang mag-blog, makiblog at mang-akit mag-blog.
o baka naman tayo. oo, tayo. tayong mga nagbblog, nakikiblog at nang-aakit mag-blog. tayong mga sulat nang sulat at basa nang basa. baka minsan hindi na rin nakakatulong ng mga salita...
ewan ko. may panahon para tumahimik. ang tanging alam ko lang, sabi nga ng ka-blog kong si zkey, "sa panahong kailangang sumigaw, 'wag kang bubulong-bulong..."
hindi ko alam kung anong gumising sa'kin kanina... basta maaga, kahit umaga na rin akong natulog. hindi ko rin alam kung bakit sa tinagal-tagal na nakatiwangwang ng group na yan sa panel ng account ko sa YG, kanina ko lang naisip makiusisang muli sa mga bobong pilosopo.
bobongpinoy · This is where your taxes go!
ewan ko ba kung matatawa ako o ano. para kasing scene lang sa Lilo and Stitch. sabi nga sa peyborit kong series na Pushing Daisies,
Narrator: At that moment, the Pie Maker felt a mixture of happiness and trepidation.
Ned: Why is it always a mixture?
hindi ko rin alam kung ilang mura at barang pa ang matatanggap ni gory-a and the rest of the politicians na nagmamarunong at nagnanakaw at the same time. na-off nga lang ako kasi sa muling pagbisita ko sa bobong pinoy yg, medyo hindi ko nagustuhan yung ilang laman. tapang kasi ng latest post dun: "Walang Kwenta ang Pilipinas." naisip ko lang, wawa naman ang Pinas.. kawawa na nga, kinakawawa pa. sino ba talaga ang may kasalanan? maaaring "walang kwenta sa Pilipinas", pero hindi "walang kwenta ang Pilipinas."
kung kwentahan na rin lang naman ang pag-uusapan, sino ba talaga ang walang kwenta? saan sa tingin nyo napupunta ang tax na lumalatay sa bawat payslip na tatagal lang ng ilang araw ang laman sa bulsa nyo? ano na ang nangyari sa P16 billion na tax windfall mula sa EVAT ng uber mahal na Dubai oil? ano ba talaga ang nangyari sa bigas? natabunan na ba ng tuluyan ang issue sa kuryente? kamusta na ang mga magsasakang halos tumira na sa gilid ng Department of Agriculture? kailan kakanta ng "low low low" ang mga gasoline boy? malilimutan na lang ba ng tao ang balita ni gory-a na P0.50 na lang per text? lalo bang manganganak at mag-aanak ng mga future magnanakaw at makakagawa na ba sila ng sariling tribo at dialect sa bansa? tataas ba sa 1:10 ang hatian sa isang libro? magiging box office hit bang lalo ang lecture ni ma'am sa sobrang kakapusan sa klasrum? pero bakit ang tataba ng congressmen?
ngayon, sino ba talaga ang may kasalanan?
baka naman ikaw. oo, ikaw. ikaw na walang ginawa kundi mag-internet buong magdamag. ikaw na mahilig dumisplay sa gilid ng salamin ng starbucks, suot ang bago pero kahit anong gawin mo ay goma pa rin, gomang havaianas nga lang. ikaw na wala kunong pakialam pero affected din sa paghataw ng pamasahe all the way to P10. sigurado yan. bilang na lang tayo ng ilang araw. o baka naman may car ka. pero kahit anong kaplastikan gawin mo, aminin mo, affected ka rin sa pagtaas ng presyo ng gasolina.
baka rin ako. akong wala ring ginawa kundi mag-internet magdamag. nag-aaral kunyari pero mas gusto pang mag-blog, makiblog at mang-akit mag-blog.
o baka naman tayo. oo, tayo. tayong mga nagbblog, nakikiblog at nang-aakit mag-blog. tayong mga sulat nang sulat at basa nang basa. baka minsan hindi na rin nakakatulong ng mga salita...
ewan ko. may panahon para tumahimik. ang tanging alam ko lang, sabi nga ng ka-blog kong si zkey, "sa panahong kailangang sumigaw, 'wag kang bubulong-bulong..."
Monday, July 28, 2008
an unrequited love
i was promenading through an aisle walled with bounty cards in a nearby bookstore, looking for something to give my cousins and grandma offshore, when something caught my attention and stole my senses; then i began falling into a deep trance.
"You are a lover of words...
One day you will write a book.
People turn to you because you give voices to dreams, notice little things, and make otherwise impossible imaginings appear real.
You are a rare bird who thinks the world is beautiful enough to try to figure it out, who has the courage to dive into your wild mind and go swimming there.
You are someone who still believes in cloud watching, people watching, daydreaming, tomorrow, favorite colors, silver clouds, dandelions, and sorrow.
Be sacred.
Be cool.
Be wild.
Go far.
Words do more than plant miracle seeds.
With you writing them, they can change the world."
i guess this gives a writer the recognition, more than what the Ramon Magsaysay and Palanca Awards can do.
only words can equal the greatness of another.
bullets on my brain:
- a writer writes with all the purity and perfection of the craft, even though nobody reads him.
- it takes real wisdom to understand poetry.
- it's seldom that writers find great thinkers with whom they can share their thoughts. the magic is within their circle and those who can hang on the edges of their fancies.
- people are used to despising things they do not know or that which they fail to understand.
- the sweetest marriage is that which occurs between the writer and his pen - the union of the spiritual and the real; the flight of senses; the perfect harmony of words, rhythm, and sound.
- words don’t always come easy.
- having that tiny cursor religiously blinking against a virtual sheet of paper for quite a long while is a scenario which is common to most writers and writer-wannabes.
- "as a writer, you have to grow accustomed to rejection slips and to working in solitude"-blissful begonia
- "a writer is like a boxer in that he must stand alone; when his work is published, his talent is held out there for everyone to see."-Josh Hartnett as Eric Kernan; Resurrecting the Champ
- writing is not just a passion; it's a part of one's being.
(*thanks to blissful begonia for the picture and her beautiful quote)
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