A Day In The Life Of

2010-05-29T05:00:00.000-07:00

I have said before somewhere in this journal how I would stop blogging once I have found what I'm looking for. Or, more accurately, how I find the happiness I have been looking for which would negate all the "pain" that cause me to write. Well, I think the time has come.

As much as I want to make it a routine to update this blog, quite frankly, I have not had the "umph" to do so. For one thing, I do not have constant access to the internet world. But moreso, I really have not had the motivation to write. And I think this is primarily because what I write mainly (if not completely) comes from dark feelings I feel.

Well, coming home is quite an awakening for me. I feel like the dark cloud that had been hovering over me has been lifted... words like "home," "forgiveness," "happily contented," "alive" are words that have now come out of paper.

So what am I trying to say? Well, I am not sure really, as I always am (hehe). But I would like to see a few people and tell them how I'm back, share a few moments of our lives, smile at each other, and smile at the world... (to be continued)

... >:)

2010-05-16T00:57:00.003-07:00

I L W U

In the thickness of the hot humid air
In the daily humdrum of people's lives
We met but simply
And I fell from the sky right at
The moment I laid my eyes on you
With your spirited smile
And your heartful laugh
I adore you---
Quite frankly
I care more for what affects you
Than what they say
Quite frankly
I would rather spend my life with you even in hell
Than in heaven without you in utter despair
Quite frankly
I searched the whole world for you
In vain... until now

2010-03-27T04:43:00.001-07:00

You bore into me the sweet scent of familiarity
Of a place I once known
Of a time when my soul was free
It is to me the place where there is no other
Where my joy settled once before
A place where people touch, where people smile
Where people continuously mingle 'til nightfall
You resemble that moment I set out to find
And I thank you for engaging me in a little dance
Of what I remember, and of what I am happy to see
That this place still feels like home to me.

2010-02-19T00:54:00.000-08:00

Waking From A Dream

I had a relationship with an Irish-American for 7 years. Now I'm back home here in the Philippines. No, the breakup was not the reason why I went home. And no, I did not go home to find myself a woman. So why am I saying these things, you say? I'm not sure really. But I guess it has something to do with relationships and trying to fit-in (whether in a relationship or in general).

One word enters my mind--- culture. Yes, culture. Culture is a tricky thing. For one, its influence goes deeper than we can fathom (I think). While we normally view culture as being a way of life, the way we say our pleasantries (i.e. manners), or even the way we are able to function as a group of people and understand each other (i.e. social fabric), culture to me is much more than that. Some people even go to the extent to state that one cannot live outside of culture; or, that the individual (self) has no meaning outside of what his society gives him. The definition is something much like how a fish cannot survive above water. I have learned what culture means on a more intimate, personal way.

About two decades earlier, I left the waters and lived on land; the so-called land where milk and honey flows unceasingly. So I have experienced living outside of a culture that is not my own. I wish you would ask, "So how was it?" And I wish I can tell you that it was great.

Well, at least I can say that it is possible. One can implant oneself in another land. But it is not a story of glory or of an exciting adventure of some sort. I wish I can say that. The life I lived was different--- it is a life of internal struggle: first, of experiencing culture shock; then, of trying to fit-in; then, of slowly questioning whether I am already transformed from being a Filipino to a Filipino-American; and until finally, of coming to terms with what life is there for people like me. At the end of the day the question is, "Did I survive?" Well, my soul ended up weary and my heart got numb, but I guess I still survived right? (hehe, okay, now I am exaggerating).

Another one of my personal reflection about culture is with the seven-year relationship. As to why did it not work-out, well, there definitely was a series of mistakes on my part. But on another level, there was also the fact that we both come from different cultures, with different ways of "communicating to each other's soul." There are times when I look at her and wish I knew what she was thinking about even without saying, or that I can react to her in ways that she is familiar with. Of course, the wish is vice-versa. But the manners of conveying meanings is intricately woven into one's culture and so we ended up frustrated and not fully engaged.

Both my life migration and the "inter-racial" relationship were results of living in a different culture. Could I have adjusted? I would like to think so but I think that it is something that takes some time, especially if the heart is less inclined to change its ways from where it started from.

So why am I writing this entry again? I guess I want to express how much culture is not easy to reckon with and that going outside of one's country "is really no-joke, man." Now, with these experiences I have a more humbling reverence to the power of culture. Maybe it is true what they say: culture's ability to harmonize a people can also serve as an obstacle in understanding others outside of it.

...Earlier today, I was sipping coffee on a porch, while going on a tangent of listing down what I missed about the Philippines now that I am here enjoying it. Suddenly, something hit me. For a few seconds there, I felt like I just woke up from a long dream of living in another land. Was it all just a dream? If it was, I am not complaining now that I am awake. Hehehe.

2010-01-02T00:38:00.000-08:00

I find myself sitting in silence on new year's night. A month more to go. Thoughts gravitate to how I am to start a life, to re-invent myself in a place I have always called home.

The following song enters my mind. Back in the day, I always loved sitting in front of the TV watching the show. It captivated me as much as millions of viewers, I suppose. It told me of a place I have only experienced once. Filled with a mix of feelings in anticipation, the song directs me once more to where I should be all along.

In hindsight, the show probably got me to love the atmosphere of bars. Then again, it may more likely have been the other way around. hehehe.

Anyhow, cheers to 2010!!! May the wind blow softly on our faces and the night be more serene as we continue to build.

Happy New Year.

Sometimes you want to go

Where everybody knows your name,

And they're always glad you came;

You want to be where you can see,

Our troubles are all the same;

You want to be where everybody knows your name.

2009-12-22T19:23:00.001-08:00

The Prophet ~ Children
written by Khalil Gibran

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, "Speak to us of Children."

And he said:

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts.

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

2009-12-15T16:31:00.000-08:00

Though You Do Not Know Me (draft)

I will give up my life for you
I will man the streets to keep you safe
I will fight oppression and injustice
To bring you closer, closer to a more sane world

In a world where happiness is abundant
Where life will be free from unnecessary troubles
Brought about to man by man himself
A world where love can finally be allowed to grow

I will offer up my service to you and your generation
I will withstand the torrents of the rain
I will teach what little I know
So when you grow older, you will know better

And you will live, much more than we have
You will practice loving, more than we ever did
You will sing songs that deserve to be sung
And you will be, who we only dreamed of becoming

Together with many others, I promise to struggle
We will win, and you will live
To catch the rain when it falls
And remember in love, what has been fought

...though you do not know me

2009-12-14T17:09:00.000-08:00

A note to my journal.

[untitled]
May 19, 2001

I take a walk under the fast lane
To get away from it all---
I pass a couple of "black" folks in hoods
As the Oakland police silence the streets...

I walk out of the grocery store with beer in hand
I see the gas prices are soaring
But my attention focused on someone
Sitting by the curb and cursing
He says, "@#%$! How can I be so
incompetent?! I should have known better!"
He was laid off from work, my first real subject
Of a capitalist boom-and-bust cycle
Of being not "cut" for the job
He blames himself for not being the man---
He has yet to go home to his kids, his wife
"What am I gonna tell 'em?" he says
As he fears the truth in their eyes...

So we speak of struggles
And we continue to "ramble on"
But there is nothing quite silencing
To see the deeper truth to
What we are saying
For the subject is in fact a human
And is robbed not of a job
But one's esteem, dignity, self, and pride
A life deserving, A life blessed

...And so now I pop the bottle
To drink to the pain of slow death
Indeed, my friend
It is a terrible, terrible world.

2009-12-02T21:50:00.000-08:00

Untitled

It is a cruel irony
To be and to not be
The pictures are not yours
Your future cannot be you

But you are who you are
Now in this singular time
This is all you have

This is all you are.

(date unknown)

2009-11-23T02:03:00.000-08:00

'Tis The Season...

A friend was making a comment about persimmons and Filipinos. He is not particularly into persimmons himself but was wondering why a lot of Filipinos love them. I told him, "I'm not sure why, really, but maybe it has something to do with the familiarity of fruits or their resemblance to native Filipino ones. They taste a little bit like chico, and when you bite into them, the texture resembles that of mangoes." I, for one, am really into persimmons especially the "crispy" ones, and when I peel them I feel like I'm peeling a santol.

2009-11-18T01:20:00.000-08:00

For folks who know me, I am at a juncture in my life. The last entries have actually been telling that I have been doing my farewell rituals. This includes looking at all my files and getting rid of most of my stuff except for the few that I want to keep. This is how I came across the old letters stuffed deep in the closet. It's been over 15 years since I read those letters and quite frankly, I was excited to read them again.

As to my loneliness though, it is true that I stuck myself in a room for three days. I do not think that my stating this as fact do not necessarily mean I am dwelling on this anymore (although I do have the propensity to do so). I simply wanted to show how much those people in my past meant to me.

But quite honestly though, the initial years were really sad years, in as much as one becomes homesick. And yes, I cried to the point that my tears stopped falling. But to place it in another context now, not to deny the sentiments then, such as mine can be construed as a migrant story, with me somehow affected more, probably because of my make-up.

---------------------
Addendum: I actually want to add two more things that struck me after reading the letters.

The first one is that I totally forgot corresponding with Michelle (we've written each other numerous times for about three years, then we stopped writing altogether). That's bad. It would be better if we're friends on facebook (as bad as that sounds) but we're not. I keep looking for her still.

The other thing is that I have always kept in my memory that one of my good friends never liked me, and that is the reason why we parted ways. But after reading his letters, it dawned on me that it was not the case. We were really good friends. And he was as much invested of our "barkada" as I was. Another blunder. Man. Hopefully I can patch things up, however long the time was. Yuck.

2009-11-17T00:28:00.001-08:00

When I came to the US, I remember going outside and wondering where all the people are at. The street is deserted: no people, no one to say hi to. Then I went to my room and stayed there for three days.

Anyhow, back then the world wide web hadn't been created so I spent many of those first years doing snail mail. I came across all the reply letters. So I opened them up and took a little trip down memory lane. I had my laughs, with all the gossips and goings-on back then. The other funny part though is that I do not remember a lot of those things written. Somehow, they must have been buried deep into memory (or, if you are one of those believers, those memories were kicked out of my head because my hard drive is full).

Those letters were special to me. That's the reason why I kept them for so long.

To all you from PI who wrote back waaaaayyyy back then: Michelle Samson, Chris S1, Glenn B., Ate Donna, Kaloy, Apra, Cherry, Chetz, Ate Karen, Paul, Lani Andres, Grace Fernandez, Ninette, Teret, Harold (poging taga-Marikina), Ate Christy, Kuya Roland, SB Bocato, Ecel, Maya, Digs... salamat po sa inyo. Paulit-ulit kong pinapakinggan ang Minsan ng Eheads habang binabasa ko ulit mga sulat. Hehe.

Yun lang po.

PS. Daj, alam ko sumulat ka, pero kinain ata ng mga daga yung love letter mo. ngek.

2009-11-16T19:45:00.000-08:00

"...What do you really want from me? I know you clearly know why I do not want to establish some kind of friendship with you, right? I am going to fall in love with you again. I cannot just have any friendship with you. I just can't.
"Someone told me it looks like I still haven't forgotten you. I am picking up the pieces of myself I have left and am trying to make sense of the word love once more. I don't think I can ever love somebody as great as I have had for you.
"And if I ever marry, whoever he is, he is damned. I can't give my whole and this is shattering my soul to the point that I might as well be cynical about love..."

-Allie confronting Noah
(in her desperate attempt to move on,
get married with someone else)
The Notebook (2004)

2009-11-10T01:35:00.000-08:00

I had a dream some time last week. The setting was located in the site of my high school.

I was in front of the dormitory and a volleyball tournament was happening. There were four players with a mannequin on each side (huh?). I was enjoying watching the competition and I wondered if there was room to come and join in the fun. So I asked Ria if they needed another player. She said sure so I was happy coming in and seeing myself wallop and play in the game.

Right then, I got distracted like everybody else to what was coming from the Oval Field. I overheard someone speaking through a megaphone about a struggle of some sort, something you see in a rally. I cannot quite understand what she (the Teacher) was talking about but I knew it was a legitimate fight. I then went up to the Humanities building and found Mrs. Salac (my Math adviser). I asked her what her opinion is of “the Teacher” speaking over the megaphone. She told me to walk with her and we went to a headquarters room where, I’m assuming, was the headquarters of the group behind the rally because I can see other teachers were sipping their coffee while being busy running around while the megaphone was being heard. She then said she agreed with the Teacher and like many other government teachers they need to fight back at the system that is choking them.

After that I went back to the dormitory and walked up the stairways to my room. I happen to be residing in the third floor at the end of the hallway and I see folks were prepping up to go the class. I looked at my cellphone and it only had one bar. I figured I would be out of luck looking for my friends when my battery runs out. So I went to the landing and I see Getty looking for a smoke. I looked into my pocket ---I had two so I shared one. After he lit the cigarette I asked him where Digbay was because I wanted to tell him I’m back and it was my first day. He said he is still in a class that afternoon. I felt the urge to go see him so we can cut class and go the nearby mall in North Edsa.

Then I woke up. Damn. There was a knock on the door. It was time to help a fiend (I mean friend, hehe) move.

2009-11-02T01:09:00.000-08:00

The following is my lazy view of piecing out a part of my life, or the part that I am on the verge of bidding a quite fond farewell. Forgive me if it doesn't make sense. The entry is really made to help me digest what happened.

What happened?

A general view

1991-I came
1992- I went back
1993- I went to a university
1994- I went back
1995- I moved to a new house
1996- My ina died
1997- I concentrated with work
1998- I met a girl
1999- I went back to school
2000- I became active in the union
2001- I became aware of the conditions of my kin
2002- I became active in social issues
2003- I was tirelessly engaging in the fight
2004- I lost my bearing
2005- I stepped down as chief
2006- I started writing poems again
2007- I finally left the industrial living
2008- I finally finished school
2009- I am going back one last time

2009-10-26T15:51:00.000-07:00

[UNTITLED]
ca. 1995

To smoke a couple of cigarettes a day
To make my day a little bit more worthwhile
To chase those tints of blues away
To use them as paint for my vintage car
To smile at some girl who deserves some damn thing
To read my niece children's books
To read to myself thoughts of, well, about anything
To make life a little bit more worthwhile

To love, to give, to run
To see, to think, to talk
To make, to find
To live, ah, to live.

Life sometimes doesn't quite make sense, does it?
With all its frailties and illogical patterns
Life is a series of infinite possibilities
With only finite time to exist

So what, when, how can this seemingly
Chaotic "life-ology" be any better?
What, when, how can our scientific minds
Produse satisfactory results?
What, when, how can we make such feasible experiments
That in the end our psychoanalytic minds would
Conclude a success! and would thus transmit this information
To our hearts that it too can rest?

Ah, but a fool can only live once
And a mad scientist can never find that secret formula
In the end, we are but a void and then
Nothing can already change

But until then, we have to our disposal
Infinite possibilities of change
Infinite possibilities of enjoying life
To make life a little bit more worthwhile

So let us not waste our precious time
Seeking answers which can never be found
Wanting only those things
That can never be ours

So let's love, let's give, let's run
Let's see together, let's think together
Let's offer each other life as we know it
And after, assure ourselves this is life
And everything in it.
For in the end, fools and wise laugh together
In the end, they both agree

That what we can only do in this world is
To enjoy it and cherish what we have and
Pass it on to whoever wants a piece of it.

(Posting this as promised. I wrote this way back in the 90s. It was the view I took then. I may not agree with some of the things now, but in a lot of ways, I have not departed much from him).

2009-10-22T02:47:00.000-07:00

"Ading, pakihinaan naman yung radyo. A, ano kamo? Di naman naka-on?"

Grabe. Napakinggan ko lang to kanina, na-hook na rin ako.

--------------------------------------

(excerpts from On The Radio by Regina Spektor)

...This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't

You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath

No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took

And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood

And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again..."

2009-10-15T00:32:00.000-07:00

A comment of a friend to a friend going through the loss of a loved one
--------

...In my life, it has continually comforted me knowing that I am who I am because of all the interactions I've had with many people, especially the ones who I let myself be affected by. In a sense, I am made up of all the people that surround(ed) me. I know my loved ones are alive because I am alive and that my nephews will know them too because I will manifest their being through me, in stories, and that part of me that they have managed to infect. That is how I have known my father (who died when I was two)--- through my kin's stories and their lives. And the same goes with my grandmother (who taught me how to cook her signature adobo)--- my nephews will get to know her as I share with them the part in me that is her.

Your sister is alive in you, if that means anything...

(taken from http://weiwitch.blogspot.com, December 22, 2008)

2009-10-14T00:09:00.000-07:00

Ever since I don't know when, I have been pro-poor. At an earlier time though, I was religious. But recently, in the act of "coming-full-circle" I began a search in a synthesis of some sort which includes both facets of my life.

How I can describe my state is through a prayer-song I nowadays keep... here it goes.

PS. for the actual song, here's the link (sorry, am having a hard time embedding it); the music is beautiful, it accompanies the lyrics well:
http://www.imeem.com/people/qBifFz/music/hqETzwZB/grupong-pendong-dinggin-mo-sana/

------------------------------

Dinggin Mo Sana
by Ang Grupong Pendong

Dinggin mo sana
Dinggin ang daing
O panginoon ng mga abang sawi
O panginoon ng katarungan

Ang kasakiman
At karahasan
Ang naghahari
Ang pag-asang nahasik
Sa mga puso ay binuhawi

Ang bigay ninyong yaman
Sa aba ay pinagkait
May hapis sa kabila ng kasaganahan
Mga batang laman ng lansangan
Sikmurang walang laman
Habang iba ay bingi sa kabusugan

Dinggin mo sana
Dinggin ang hibik
Ng mga dukha na gutom sa pagibig
At uhaw na uhaw sa katarungan

Dinggin mo sana…
Dinggin ang daing…
Dinggin mo sana.

2009-10-12T16:47:00.000-07:00

Short-Term Memory Down The Lane

I had a conversation about two years ago with my former lady-friend of decades past. We sort of went down the memory lane trying to recall what used to be. What it turned out being though was a revelation of some sort. Not only do we remember a totally different series of events (each of us remembering something else), but also that we had the most difficult time bringing those past into life again. It seems that those memories were buried deep, and almost like a defense mechanism of some sort, our alter-egoes somehow are trying to stop the memory-train. And so in the end, we were just laughing at how we seem to be getting old na (hehe), meanwhile understanding that who we are now is asserting its dominance over who we were. And we simply let it be, knowing that we cannot (and should not) disturb the shallow seas.

There are different reasons why we don't remember the past. One reason is like I was illustrating above ---built-up walls. Another reason why we can't remember certain things is that the events simply did not enter our memory banks strong enough to be held intact. The idea of making memories (i.e. memory-consolidation) is that we have to be excited enough and focused at the time for it to be placed into our brain. For example, events such as the 9/11 can be vividly remembered by a lot of us because at that time we were at an alert level high enough for us to make those memories of the time stick (well, of course, in addition to all the endless playback in the news of that plane as it nears the building). On the other hand, there is the phenomenon of not remembering the night when one is so drunk (my apologies for folks who do not drink, hehe). Ethanol can sedate to the point of interfering with memory-consolidation. I believe there is a recent movie made about men not remembering the night before, right?

There may be period in one's life when one wishes not to remember. For me, I find that ever since I came to the US, I've made fewer memories than when I was living back home. In simple terms, I never took my life here as worth remembering. Sad, no? Part of me thinks all those years have gone to waste. But then again, maybe there is a reason why everything is the way it went. Maybe one of the reasons would be my retracing of my footsteps to lead me to understand the fragility and complexity of memories. Maybe another is to come to a choice-decision of going home.

In any case, I am happy for folks who remember much about their lives. They are, truly, living the times. There really is no other way but that. As for me though, well, I've made a clearing for myself and though the grass is still too high for me to see what is out there, I believe I am near the bend where I can finally see the place I for long have wanted to be at... new sweet memories to be made.

2009-10-08T00:31:00.000-07:00

One of the greatest songs in my book.
To all you believers... this song was made for you.
(the scenes make me miss the Phils., hehe.)

2009-10-07T22:01:00.000-07:00

I really do not know when it all began
The morning mist is greeted by the sun
A morning cup and the quiet view of the block
Set my heart to remember your face

I really do not know when it all began
When I met you, when I started to adore your face
But everytime I see you my eyes open to see
What is ever more clear to me

You are to me what daisies are to bees.

2009-10-06T03:10:00.000-07:00

...and ever since then, I have had a hard time playing with dolls.

I remember an occasion when I was a kid where I messed up my sister's doll by stuffing its mouth with rice (Hehe! Ooops.) The doll happens to cry when it is hungry and when you feed it with her specialized bottle then she stops crying. Well, it was crying at the time and I couldn't find her bottle so I started feeding her rice instead. Guess she was so much satiated after that she stopped crying.. altogether, meaning forever. (Nakupu tatang, nasira!) Well, by the time you know it, sister finds out, cries like there was no tomorrow, and older folks came and looked at the mess I made...

2009-10-06T02:14:00.000-07:00

Trait

...For, you see, there is nothing in this world that would satisfy me more than to see her content, happy, alive, full. She has always been the person I care for so deeply. And it will always stay that way. No matter what it takes. Even if it means staying in the farthest pew.

2009-10-05T21:49:00.000-07:00

Two clips from Sesame Street (saw it with my nephew today). I think the first one is from episode 4826 and the second one is from 3765. Hehe. So funny. The first Sesame Street I watched was episode 6 and here I am watching it again with my nephew but only 3000+ episodes later.

2009-09-28T01:53:00.000-07:00

I first heard of this song from a friend. Now I understand, Gloc-9 still affectionately retains FrancisM's influence in his music. This rendition is from the kid's TV show. Hehe. Fun to watch. Enjoy.

2009-09-23T03:07:00.000-07:00

Far from people's perception of my state, I am actually happy. Troubles come and go. Situations arise, and either you tackle it, or run away (or better said, fight or fly away). People at times misconstrue the news of death of one person, then another, then again another on this post, as a negative note (There was actually a blog I posted I think about two years ago now that friends have misinterpreted as a suicide note... ugh!!). And while it's true that I have been depressed for a long time (as I openly admit, I don't think there is anything to hide about that), it's been a journey of discovery of some sort. In any case, as many depressive "patients" would tell you, depression never goes away. It is a lifetime thing.

Now, with all that said, what I'm trying to say is this--- yes, it's true. There was a time when I saw the glass as half-empty. And that glass was really half-empty for a long time (or depleted if you really want to know my state then). It's been a long path to self-recovery... then now, in this place and time. I am actually proud of myself to have struggle through those years. It wasn't easy, but it was worth it. (One of the keys to get out of that state is to knowing one's self, one's history, to understand one's coping mechanisms and outlook in life. I can refer a book to anyone interested to know more, not a self-help one. It is titled "Learned Optimism" by the renowned psychologist Martin Seligman who by the way pioneered the theory on depression to how we now know it today; his finalized approach borrows from the cognitive scool in psychology).

Nowadays, there are times when I feel the blues. That is normal, even for the patient. But knowing whether to let it just pass by or to do something to struggle through it is key. Finding the right balance and approach. And the main thing is being true to yourself, not denying the situation, analyzing it and finding ways (if it's needed) to work it out. I'm ommitting a lot of things right now, like finding a support network, eating habits, waking patterns, and other behavioral and attitudinal aspects of the "therapy". I guess I can elaborate on that some other time, as this blog entry is now already turning out to be a lecture of some sort, haha.

In short, I am actually ok. I may not be the most jolly person you know, but I am happy where I am at. I may write about death and all that, but that's just me. At times, I wrestle with the idea, especially now that I (or we) am in the middle years of my life. (I can still play half-court basketball though, just until six :)) I do like to understand life more.

PS. actually, if you find me at the right time, I am the most jolly person you know. but I hide that nowadays, reserve it for special friends.

2009-09-15T02:19:00.000-07:00

Patrick Swawze... at 57.

...he made this moving plea: "I keep dreaming of a future, a future with a long and healthy life, a life not lived in the shadow of cancer, but in the light. ... I dream that the word 'cure' will no longer be followed by the words 'is impossible.'"

2009-08-30T02:31:00.002-07:00

It is not the fatal rose, you see, that kills the spider,
For there are many roses that be,
But the web that it builds that nests it,
And the dance of the mahogany trees.

2009-08-29T02:11:00.000-07:00

It seems that I do not have the urge to write nowadays, except today. Today I want to write something about the power dynamics in a family. I've been a fan of the egalitarian family, ever since my women's studies professor introduced me to it (yep! I took the class with the mistake that I was going to learn about something else; but I enjoyed it nevertheless, hehe). On one hand, it is sad to say that I haven't seen any family of this sort (well, not completely that is), and I believe it is really because of systemic causes (i.e. societal factors) that prevent it from becoming so. On the other hand, however, I do see glimpses of what tomorrow-world can be, a world where the society and the family has eliminated dominant-submissive family processes and/or structures.

So today I want to write something about the power dynamics in a family ---but my problem is I don't think I can do justice right now. (so here we go again...)

Anyhow, I will write about this sometime soon. I guess this entry simply serves as a reminder for me to do so. Hehehehe. hehehe. hehe. he... [sigh!]...[gulp!]...[sigh again]... [smile]... promise!!! promise to the max!!! promise talaga... sige na. maniwala ka na... pls?? :))

2009-08-21T04:11:00.000-07:00

From the "basketcase dookies" of Berkeley. Amazing how their songs just transformed through the years.

21 Guns
Green Day, 21st Century Breakdown

Do you know what's worth fighting for,
When it's not worth dying for?
Does it take your breath away,
And you feel yourself suffocating?

Does the pain weigh out the pride?
And you look for a place to hide?
Did someone break your heart inside?
You're in ruins.

One, twenty-one guns,
Lay down your arms, give up the fight.
One, twenty-one guns,
Throw up your arms into the sky,
You and I.

When you're at the end of the road,
And you lost all sense of control.
And your thoughts have taken their toll,
When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul.

Your faith walks on broken glass,
And the hangover doesn't pass.
Nothing's ever built to last,
You're in ruins.

One, twenty-one guns,
Lay down your arms, give up the fight.
One, twenty-one guns,
Throw up your arms into the sky,
You and I.

Did you try to live on your own,
When you burned down the house and home?
Did you stand too close to the fire,
Like a liar looking for forgiveness,
From a stone?

When it's time to live and let die,
And you can't get another try,
Something inside this heart has died.
You're in ruins.

One, twenty-one guns,
Lay down your arms, give up the fight.
One, twenty-one guns,
Throw up your arms into the sky.

One, twenty-one guns,
Lay down your arms, give up the fight.
One, twenty-one guns,
Throw up your arms into the sky.

One, twenty-one guns,
Throw up your arms into the sky.
You and I

2009-07-14T01:02:00.001-07:00

AN ANNOUNCEMENT

PISAY, The Movie
Film Screening
Delancey Street Theater (600 Embarcadero Street, San Francisco, CA)
Saturday, August 8, 2009
3 pm.

Tickets for the screening will be sold for $15 each; net proceeds will be donated to PSHS. To reserve your tickets and for more information, please contact Hannah Delos Santos (hannahdoc2000@yahoo.com) or Jerome Molejona (jmolejona@hotmail.com; cell: 650-296-4283).

...I hate to miss watching this movie, but I'm also awfully dreading remembering that that "once upon a time" existed... once upon a time.

2009-07-07T20:49:00.000-07:00

I apologize I've been on a roll with farewell tributes. Since three weeks ago, I have been surrounded by death. I guess much like everyone else with the passing of MJ, Farrah, Billie Mays, and even Robert McNamara (for all it's worth), there have been a number of public figures that have passed away recently. Even in the Philippines, with Susan Fernandez and Wilson Baldonaza, lives have been cut short though by natural means (Susan is 52 and Wilson 55, I think). Then my cousin's father-in-law also passed away which caused us to rush his wife to fly back to PI so she can see her father and bid goodbye. And yet I still vividly remember Francis Magalona's passing as well as the great worker-leader Ka Bel who the whole international labor movement mourned (not just the Filipino people, mind you). I have actually met him in my union days and I remember him with his grandfatherly demeanor (he never stopped telling stories, haha).

Today, with MJ's tribute I found myself humming the following song. I guess it's my way of saying farewell to him and all I have known or have been affected by, in a way of quietly questioning reality and wondering in a subtle way as to why such thing as death comes, but at the same time understanding that, just simply, such is so.

"If It's Magic"
Stevie Wonder

If it's magic...
Then why can't it be everlasting
Like the sun that always shines
Like the poets in this rhyme
Like the galaxies in time

If it's pleasing...
Then why can't it be never leaving
Like the day that never fails
Like on seashores there are shells
Like the time that always tells

It holds the key to every heart
Throughout the universe
It fills you up without a bite
And quenches every thirst

So...
If it's special
Then with it why aren't we as careful
As making sure we dress in style
Posing pictures with a smile
Keeping danger from a child

It holds the key to every heart
Throughout the universe
It fills you up without a bite
And quenches every thirst

So...
If it's magic...
Why can't we make it everlasting
Like the lifetime of the sun
It will leave no heart undone
For there's enough for everyone

2009-07-07T00:57:00.000-07:00

Susan Fernandez Magno (August 3, 1956 - July 2, 2009)

My brother has this cassette tape that one of his close friends gave him way back during their high school days. Here in the US, we continue to listen to it. Below is one of the songs on the album which have helped shape my thinking, by an artist adored by many she touched, me being one of them.

Her husband relates how they still managed to dance together and celebrate life even on the eve of her passing...

2009-07-03T00:08:00.001-07:00

Silly

Silly, I thought we were gonna sail the world on a deep blue ship
I thought we were gonna revel in each other's company
To stare in each other's eyes, To watch the deep blue sky
And lay down together with a kiss and a lullaby...

Silly, I thought you were made to be mine... and I am yours.

2009-06-30T02:39:00.000-07:00

JUSTICE FOR MELISSA ROXAS

Melissa Roxas' Press Conference (2 of 4): Statement by Melissa Roxas from Habi Arts on Vimeo.

2009-06-30T01:19:00.001-07:00

Struggle for Life

I have always tried to wrestle with the meaning of life and death
How the two forms of existence intertwine
And dance like the river and the air

There are times when I do not see any real difference
Between one who is dead and one who acts like he would have been alive
If not for circumstances in his life that killed him

Nor is there any difference to one who is at her deathbed
Yet is able to convey the love for life at its peak
And provoke those listening to start living though she's gone

And so it is that I admit not understanding any difference
Of these two--- maybe there is really none, but a janus-faced identity
Or dialectical unity in motion...

But in all honesty I do know the difference, and it is as stark as a candle in the night
And seen through the eyes to reveal the depth of one's soul---
It is that of a meaningful existence.

For in truth, I would rather be on my deathbed giving tribute to life
Than be walking the face of this earth as if I was dead

And it is in the same vein that one struggles to defend humanity with her life
Than let the prince or darkness cover her world in fear

2009-03-24T19:46:00.000-07:00

A post to come shortly (I think)...

2008-12-24T05:48:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas everyone!!!

----------------------

"Christmas... is a time for reflecting on the sublime paradox, and wisdom, of what Christ said that you have to become like a child to enter the kingdom of God. You don’t have to be particularly religious to appreciate that. You can always take that to mean that you have to remain youthful in spirit if not in body to know the meaning of joy." ---Conrado de Quiros

2008-12-23T22:54:00.000-08:00

Twist of Fate

I could have come five years earlier
To learn the ways of this land
It would have given the time and the youth
For me to become like one
It would have helped me understand your ways
Your feelings, your heart
Why you move the way you do
Why you laugh, why you cry
If I had come earlier
We would have seen the world with similar eyes
We would have known each other
We would have become like sweet lovers
But as it stands I know nothing of you
Except that I dear for you
In the quietest of whispers
And behind the whimpers---
I reckon that if I have come earlier
Our worlds would not have been different as they are now.

2008-11-08T01:02:00.001-08:00

FOR MILO---

May your soul be lifted to heights of eternal destination...

--------------------------
A Dog Has Died
By Pablo Neruda

My dog has died.
I buried him in the garden
next to a rusted old machine.

Some day I'll join him right there,
but now he's gone with his shaggy coat,
his bad manners and his cold nose,
and I, the materialist, who never believed
in any promised heaven in the sky
for any human being,
I believe in a heaven I'll never enter.
Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom
where my dog waits for my arrival
waving his fan-like tail in friendship.

Ai, I'll not speak of sadness here on earth,
of having lost a companion
who was never servile.
His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine
withholding its authority,
was the friendship of a star, aloof,
with no more intimacy than was called for,
with no exaggerations:
he never climbed all over my clothes
filling me full of his hair or his mange,
he never rubbed up against my knee
like other dogs obsessed with sex.

No, my dog used to gaze at me,
paying me the attention I need,
the attention required
to make a vain person like me understand
that, being a dog, he was wasting time,
but, with those eyes so much purer than mine,
he'd keep on gazing at me
with a look that reserved for me alone
all his sweet and shaggy life,
always near me, never troubling me,
and asking nothing.

Ai, how many times have I envied his tail
as we walked together on the shores of the sea
in the lonely winter of Isla Negra
where the wintering birds filled the sky
and my hairy dog was jumping about
full of the voltage of the sea's movement:
my wandering dog, sniffing away
with his golden tail held high,
face to face with the ocean's spray.

Joyful, joyful, joyful,
as only dogs know how to be happy
with only the autonomy
of their shameless spirit.

There are no good-byes for my dog who has died,
and we don't now and never did lie to each other.

So now he's gone and I buried him,
and that's all there is to it.


Translated, from the Spanish, by Alfred Yankauer

2008-10-21T02:59:00.000-07:00

Hirap Ng Magkalayo 'no?

Sarap nga sana na magkasama na

nagkukulitan,

naglolokohan,

nagkakasiyahan---

nagtititigan ng hugis

at nagpapalitan ng ngiti...

...sabay isip--- iniisip ba nya ang iniisip ko?

hmmm... saan kaya ang hantungan nito???

(English translation will soon become available)

2008-10-06T15:24:00.000-07:00

Just got back from PI about two weeks ago. So, between my last entry and now seem like a lifetime of difference. Or the least a tempering of a choice decision on my part to pursue the reverse trend most people do. A year from now, my life will take another course. So between this entry and then will be a time for preparation. And the unifying thought across all these is the sobering peace and the happy feeling to finally have come this far.

Nice.

2008-08-10T02:41:00.000-07:00

Dito na ko sa pinas. Okey lang pag pinapawisan. Okey lang kung nauuhaw. Okey lang kung naiirita ang aking mga mata dahil sa lubos na usok sa eyre. Okey lang kung maliliit ang binibigay na ulam sa karinderya. Okey lang kung tigidig and takbo ng dyip na sinasakyan ko. Okey lang kung naglalakad sa mainit na araw. At okey rin lang siguro kahit sumakit ang tyan ko dahil di na sya sanay.

Okey lang kasi andito ako sa lupa ng aking kinagisnan. Kung saan ako namulat sa buhay. Kung saan ko nararamdaman na mayroon pa rin palang pagkakataon na makita ko ang pusong ko na buhay...

2008-08-07T01:14:00.000-07:00

UNDER CONSTRUCTION

That would be me.
I'd like to go to s.c., yung kay aling puring,
kaso wala na raw yun eh.
sayang, ibang panahon na nga pala talaga tayo ngayon.

2008-08-05T22:08:00.001-07:00

Would I release myself from the impending pain?
Would I run away from you?
The toxic fumes, the paranoid self
Comes into collusion with the rising thin air

Setbacks and letdowns
Come and go like the rushing wind
And for all that I did and all I anticipated
I think have come true

But wounds heal, the heart recovers
Especially when one sleeps
Especially when one gets sick
A rest hums a song to a rattled self

Did you rattle for being sick?
Or did you pose for wanting to go?
I wish, oh how I wish it was merely
The physical limitations of life.

Yet I will not be persuaded
By innocent lies and familiar faces
I am like a stone to the bone
Because my experience have brought me home... to you

And home can be the place that I live
And the moments I encounter
The glances I take across your face
And the imaginations of tomorrow

And when synchronicities, analogies, anomalies, and ironies conspire,
I of course am bound to such a conclusion---
I understand.

2008-08-04T00:11:00.000-07:00

"Try to see the beauty in a flower
Only then will you see the depth of
How much she means to you."

...says Piglet to Tigger when he lost his kite

--------------------------
Where are my keys?

2008-07-28T02:47:00.000-07:00

I’m sorry to have bothered you
I was mistaken by my inadequacies and tries
My emotions have fooled me into thinking
That you were the one

I’m sorry to have put you less at ease
I apologize
For my haphazard conviction of lies
That fooled me into thinking---

My only regret is how I missed having known you
And the way you are
I would have missed talking to you about
The Pacquiao fight and your thoughts on migrant lives...

I would have liked us to be friends
If only just that
But just that is what I long for
To share each others stories, to listen to each others lives.

…Yet somehow I still hope I did not miss the chance!

2008-07-22T15:40:00.000-07:00

Clinging on to you is not what it should be
But that I am slowly attaching to your being
I have always been one yet no apologies
Will come from me for who I am

And I don't think it is wrong anyway
Or at least I simply cannot change
The way I was built
From the death of my father

But I have learned to cope with the absence of loved ones
Yes, I have learned---

That daydreaming is a powerful aid for the young
And that laughter is able to release one's own tensions
And to imagine a picture of us dancing for a while... well,
That is simply me still thinking I can dance!

2008-07-17T00:16:00.000-07:00

Some small speck in the inner side of my brain is triggering an autonomic response throughout my body that self-organizes my organs in a unitary mode to tell me I simply don't want to love again. My frontal lobe reacts with reason and tells me it's just a fleeting emotion. I am here now with my temporal lobe suggesting to type my motivations so my occipital lobe can suggest to my amygdala to stop fretting about something that my heart just don't want to comprehend. Argh. I'm tired. Am gonna go to sleep, my medulla has grown tired... am only anxious of what my delta waves would cause me later to see.

2008-07-16T23:45:00.000-07:00

Am fresh out of words. Pictures for you all, from a nice camping trip we had in recent past. Memorable times!!! :))

2008-07-15T10:09:00.001-07:00

A different kind of love, but love nevertheless.
And such profound sense of kinship, grounded in the fight both for and of the poor.
For sure, Ka Bel will be missed, if not already.

---------------------------------------

(excerpt from Philippine Daily Inquirer, First Posted 01:19:00 07/03/2008)

The day after “Ka Bel” died, my father sent me an email urging me to go to the wake for the party-list representative. He said Crispin Beltran was once his boss and one whom he deeply respected, and he felt it was his filial obligation to offer flowers and prayers at his wake. But since he was away in Maastricht, the Netherlands, on a scholarship, he asked me to go his place.

I’m no leftist; I’m not even politically inclined, as some of my schoolmates have probably noted. So when I put on my denim pants and rubber shoes to go to Manila’s Quiapo district to buy some flowers, I thought that I was merely doing what my father had asked me to do: to offer flowers and prayers for a dead man.

When I got to Quiapo, I searched the flower vendors at the side of the church, trying to imagine what colors my father would have wanted. I stopped at a nondescript stall with green, maroon and pink flowers, not just the usual yellow and white. The vendor told the white or yellow mums would cost P100, but if I picked assorted colors it would cost me P150.

I tried to bargain, and she brought down the price of the latter to P140.

I asked if the funeral wreath came with ribbons. “Extra P20 kung may ribbon,” she said.

I did not bother to haggle anymore. Then I handed her a piece of paper on which I had copied the epitaph my father wrote: “Pagpugay sa dakilang anak ng uring manggagawa, Ka Bel; Ang buhay at alaala mo’y titis ng pag-asa sa pakikibaka ng uri. — Kas. George.”

The vendor was shocked by the long message. I figured that she was used to writing only “Condolence and sympathy” on the ribbon. But she talked so loud that the other vendors came over.

“Santissima! Kay Ka Bel mo ba ibibigay?” a vendor of Lego-like toys asked.

I nodded and smiled.

“Diyos ko, Mare, huwag mo na singilin!” she told the flower vendor. “Kay Ka Bel naman pala eh. Kapatid natin iyon sa pakikibaka.”

They called their friends, who were selling trinkets worth P10 or less. One of them offered to do the writing, declaring his handwriting was the best. Others shared their opinions about Ka Bel. Some told the flower vendor to add more flowers on the wreath.

“Nakakasama kasi namin sa rally si Ka Bel,” the friendly toy vendor explained.

“Oo, at wala siyang paki kahit mga mahihirap kami,” the man with the nice handwriting chimed in.

Some asked me if I was going alone, or if I was with a leftist group. I politely told them that I was going on behalf of my school organization.

When they asked me what school I attended, someone said, “Mabuting may mga matatalino pa ring sumusuporta sa mga mahihirap.” I did have the courage to tell them I was no leftist.

Finally they finished the wreath, beautifully done. The flower vendor told me that with all the additions, the wreath was now worth more than P200, but she was giving it to me for free as her own offering for Ka Bel. A vendor of plastic bags gave me a big red-and-white plastic free of charge. And while I was preparing to leave, a cigarette vendor came with a small bouquet of white mums and asked me to bring them to their champion. Then they all bade me a cheery goodbye, while asking me to extend their condolences to Ka Bel’s family. I rode the jeepney to Taft Avenue with a heart that was never more deeply touched.

Had my father been here, he would have gone every day to the wake. He would have go to Ka Bel’s funeral, marching with his buddies in the labor group Kilusang Mayo Uno, sharing pictures and stories of Ka Bel and the KMU. He probably would not have thought of asking me to go with him, knowing that I am not interested in rallies and leftist organizations.

But maybe it was a good thing that he was away and had to ask me to do this. I never would have come so close to the poor and neither would have known how deeply they felt about Ka Bel, their “brother in the struggle” against poverty.

Consuelo Maria G. Lucero, 17, is a third-year Bachelor of Arts in Comparative Literature student at the University of the Philippines in Diliman, Quezon City.

2008-07-10T01:06:00.000-07:00

[untitled]

We were together in another lifetime
We played in the sand, we soared the skies
We lied in the twix of the moonlight
We carried each other in each other's arms

We were together in another lifetime
When stars twinkled behind the sun
When my heart was yours
And yours was mine

We were, at one point the truest communion
Our hearts beat like the snail in the sand
I love you then, you never left my arms
We were truly happy, then, in another lifetime

2008-07-05T02:02:00.000-07:00

A QUESTION FOR JULIE...

...So, how do you make it? Hehe.

Post script. Congratulations!!! May you be flowered with daisies!!!

2008-07-03T00:03:00.000-07:00

My cousin just told me that his foreman's name is not listed in the staff personnel at his work anymore. I know his foreman. He is my uncle's good friend. He is a good person, smart, full of hidden jokes, and one of the now rare breed of artists practicing balagtasan. I guess his story goes something like this:

He came to America in search for livelihood. He left his family back home. As it is customary for Filipinos, he worked two or three jobs at one time, just trying to earn some money to send home. He's been doing this for a while, and was able to make enough to be able to build a house back home. Recently, he helped my cousin to get in the same job and trained him for the line of work that they're doing. My cousin learned pretty quick and, like many Filipinos, feel indebted to him. Utang na loob is inherent in every Filipino. A few years back, he applied for his family to come over and for some reason, he was denied the opportunity. What he ended up doing then was to go back home every year to spend time with his family, and after every short visit he comes back to the US to make ends meet. The last time, however, he went home for a funeral, and after two weeks, comes back to work. He spends a few days at work, then left again; this time, without any notice. He went back home; maybe for good, this time...

...I was talking to a friend a few days back. She told me she is fascinated by stories of migration. I told her, "Well, you know, the story of Filipino migration is a sad story, with broken families and many lonely lives. We migrate not for fun but mainly for circumstances against our will." She insisted she still likes to know these stories. I continued on feeling how sad the stories are, though I too would like to know their stories, even if for a different reason as I perceive.

Part of me wishes that my uncle's friend, the foreman, finally decided to go back home. Home, to where his heart is. I think everybody deserves a life around people they love. And I still continually feel bad about the plight of many Filipinos. I do long for the day when we migrate no longer in search for bread and butter (or for many Filipinos, in search for rice and bagoong, hehe). I do long for that day, when we live our lives once again, and explore our world whenever we want, to bask in the beauty that there is, to be truly free and not be chained by what, in the end, are simply unnecessary hardships bestowed to the hardworking people of Man.

2008-07-01T23:58:00.000-07:00

An old favorite poem of mine. circa 1999

[untitled]

I really just want to see you, and gaze your smile
I love the way you do
I want to see you when you talk about
All the different things that makes you jump on your feet

And laugh, my heart beats twice
Every time you do

I can be your secret admirer, as how it looks for now
The shyness of professing my new found love
And the tingles you cause me to bear
I can but tell you how you affect me

In beautiful ways I never felt
Like this before

And even though you shine your beauty in another world
I see you from where I am
I am happy knowing you are there and if just for that
I come undone by the troubles that veer through the clouds

The westward chill I no longer feel
Rather the warmth you gave me

And in the tug-of-war between the run and the still
Can't make me move to steer
Because I m quite happy just to surround myself
With all your beauty---

But the moment I touch your soul... behold
I can affect you like no one has ever told you so.

2008-06-23T23:47:00.000-07:00

Oh how my heart flutters---
I AM INFATUATED WITH THIS GIRL;
If I die, it might be better
...So I won't be a nuisance to her.

Charlie Brown
Peanuts

2008-06-16T11:48:00.000-07:00

June 12, 2008.

I was sitting by the bench just now. I just took a nice shower and am in the middle of doing laundry and cleaning just a bit. I made some coffee to drink while I take a breath after what has been a pretty rough day.

I was surprised to see a kid riding his bike, yelling and laughing at whoever is across the street. It must be some other kid who is a friend. Another one passed by on his bike. All three had similar faces of excitement and adventure. I thought to myself, they're having fun after having been in school all year and just now feeling the fresh opportunities of vacation season.

A quiet breeze continually passes by and plays with the trees, as the trees sway smoothly, to the dance of the wind. It is much of a sunny day. I again thought to myself with an inkling of that transcendent feeling---wow, even when I am gone, there will be lives lived just like these kids, just like how I was a kid, and that there will still be trees (I hope) swaying in the wind.

...It was a beautiful connection, the world I just saw. And it continually amazes me, the reason why these kids lives are important...

It reminds us of a world that could simply be full of living. These kids serve as a sign of hope that of what lives could be, as meaningful as theirs. I do believe we can extend that kind of a life even to everybody, even to us adults who are confined to troubles of busy lives and endless "obligations," but only when we are able to change this world and transform it to our liking, towards that direction of what simply can be called a romantic life.

Pardon my idealism. I just had a premonition of a beautiful world.

...And the trees keep on swaying :).

WHO CAN EXPLAIN ?????

2008-06-10T03:13:00.001-07:00

2008-05-28T01:14:00.001-07:00

A Tribute to Ka Bel

A dreamer. A worker. A man of many things. A man who has tremendous love for his people and has found meaning in life though serving them till the end.

2008-05-14T22:24:00.000-07:00

OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD

"Other Side of the World" is a song by Scottish singer-songwriter KT Tunstall and is the opening track on her debut album, Eye to the Telescope. It was released 9 May 2005 as the second single from that album and became her first UK Top 20, charting at #13 in the UK Singles Chart (see 2006 in British music). It was released in the United States and Canada as the third and final single from the album, and the Music Video was in rotation on MuchMoreMusic. It is reportedly one of KT Tunstall's favourite songs.

The song is about long distance relationships and the problems they have and how they seldom work out. It is based on a true story of two friends Tunstall had who were a couple but one lived in Scotland the other in America.

As an April Fool's Day joke her manager told her that another artist was about to release a song almost identical to "Other Side of the World", so they would have to shelve Tunstall's release. As she was proud of her song and fell for the prank, Tunstall joked that she would have to do something major to get him back next year. (...from wikipedia)

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Over the sea and far away
She's waiting like an iceberg
Waiting to change
But she's cold inside
She wants to be like the water

All the muscles tighten in her face
Buries her soul in one embrace
They're one and the same
Just like water

And the fire fades away
Most of everyday
Is full of tired excuses
But it's too hard to say
I wish it were simple
But we give up easily
You're close enough to see that
You're the other side of the world to me

On comes the panic light
Holding on with fingers and feelings alike
But the time has come
To move along

And the fire fades away
Most of everyday
Is full of tired excuses
But it's to hard to say
I wish it were simple
But we give up easily
You're close enough to see that
You're the other side of the world

Can you help me
Can you let me go
And can you still love me
When you can't see me anymore

And the fire fades away
Most of everyday
Is full of tired excuses
But it's too hard to say
I wish it were simple
But we give up easily
You're close enough to see that

You're the other side of the world
You're the other side of the world
You're the other side of the world to me

2008-04-16T00:07:00.000-07:00

"I really just have to find the beauty in living to be able to fight for it again."
-Antonio Cruz, circa 2005.

An announcement: After 18 years of having migrated here, I just became a US citizen today.

A friend came with me. I asked her to be my witness while I take oath. While it was not necessary (I could've gone to the ceremony alone), folks can be brought as witnesses. I intentionally asked her because, as I told her my reason, she was the only real American person I know. Hehehe.

The event looked like a graduation ceremony, and the trip (BART train and a 1-mile uphill walk) to the place gave us time to catch up with each other. My goodness, we both said as we started sharing each other stories, "a lot of things have changed." After the 2-hour ceremony that could have really just taken 15 minutes (thanks to the emcee for being quite a jokester), she treated me to the celebratory lunch, before we parted ways. Then I thought to myself, "Funny, I wonder when I'll see her again. She comes and goes like the last dream before waking!"

[hmmm... hehe] yep, quite funny indeed.

2008-04-15T23:59:00.000-07:00

Lesson number one
If a couple doesn't see each other as friends, they might as well separate;

Alternative statement
A couple needs to regard each other as real friends in order to survive;

Another alternative statement
Without friendship, a romantic relationship would not last;

Final alternative statement
Couples should always foster friendship;

Final, final alternative statement
...If you're not willing to be friends, forget it.

2008-04-07T23:47:00.000-07:00

I love Robert Fulghum. Don't know if I mentioned it in this blog but I originally patterned this blog with the kind of brevity that he uses in his books. Short anecdotal chapters, just about simple things with a twist. Looking back at my postings though, I am so far from his style. Haha. Anyhow, here is a recent article that adopts his famous poster-desiderata. It strikes me as it encapsulates the goings-on in the "Phils" at the same time. Political twists, something I started to like sometime back. The point is to love life, and hate unjust things...

(excerpt from Philippine Daily Inquirer, April 4, 2008)

Wrong values outside school

Education Secretary Jesli Lapus, saying that students must be insulated from politics, appealed to political groups and personalities not to bring their battle over the national broadband network deal to school campuses.

Must the youth be kept ignorant of the affairs of the state? Shouldn’t teachers guide them so they can make informed decisions?

The youth know very well that they are being deprived of their right to quality education, which they see in the poor facilities of their schools and, worst, the growing number of their classmates who are dropping out because of poverty. Must they turn a blind eye to corruption? Must they act deaf and dumb amid the fraud and official lies? Must the children of the victims of extrajudicial killings and forced disappearances meekly submit to the injustice that has been done to them and their loved ones?

The trouble with the Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo administration is that it is focused on covering up its evil rule by repressing the people’s basic freedoms. Arroyo must be reminded that children must be taught and nurtured with the values needed to shape a better society.

Robert Fulghum, in his book “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten,” has a lot to say about leadership and governance. Let me cite a few:

• Share everything.

• Play fair.

• Don’t hit people.

• Put things back where you found them.

• Clean up your own mess.

• Don’t take things that aren’t yours.

• Say you’re sorry when you hurt somebody.

• Wash your hands before you eat.

• Flush.

But what do our children learn from the Arroyo administration?

• While in power, amass as much wealth as you can.

• Buy votes to win elections. And if you must, call the chair of the Commission on Elections to manipulate the results in your favor.

• Kill, abduct, harass, torture, persecute those who work for justice, peace and meaningful change.

• Go sell our sovereignty and patrimony. Mother Nature be damned as long as you earn from the sellout.

• Stealing public funds is OK. Never mind if people go hungry and are deprived of proper health care, quality education and decent shelter, as long as you and your family get richer and richer.

• But feign piety and make sure your religious activities are covered by the media.

• Cover up your corrupt dealings. If exposed, try to make “palusot” (e.g., find a scapegoat). If there’s no way out, say “I am sorry” in public, but find ways to escape accountability.

• Keep your supporters loyal with bribes and political rewards. Distribute “paper bags” every time you meet with them.

• Always assure everyone that you will step down at the end of your term, as the law provides, even if you have contrary plans.

While teachers struggle in the classroom to impart the right values, their students see, in real life, a solid example of governance by corruption, lies, cheating, thievery and murder.

NORMA P. DOLLAGA, Kapatirang Simbahan Para Sa Bayan (Kasimbayan), 3/F NCCP, 879 EDSA, Quezon City

2008-03-19T01:31:00.000-07:00

I miss blogging. But I really don't have the time to get into the groove of writing something.

I could perhaps just make a list of what I want to write about:

1. memories- how long does a memory last to affect somebody; how long does it last before you can move on and it not matter anymore;
2. relationship- i may not know much, but from what i know, one's internal make-up is the decisive factor when it comes to intentions, even though such internal make-up is the interplay between the past, the present, and the emotional mind;
3. pacquiao's win - galing!!!;
4. global warming and global hope through alternative energies - am en-light-ened, hehe;
5. corruption and the continuing evolution of people power;
6. friends;
7. spring - ayos! andito na. di na ko malalamigan! ay sarap!!

2008-02-14T12:58:00.000-08:00

Ms. H called me last night and told me something so unnatural for her to do ---she snapped at three people today!!! Yes, knowing Ms. H, this action represents an outlier of some sort to her normal behavior. She aways smiles, she never shows any irritation, and she actively looks for group laughter. She is calm, she is mellow, she does not speak loud.

So what made Ms. H snap? Apparently, by the way she's telling me, she is awfully disturbed by her "snapping." I offered assistance, in the big-brother sort of way, to put on my psychology-kuno hat, and try to understand her context.

And I think I know the answer. At least the more immediate factor with her. Obviously she is disturbed by something; no one snaps for no reason, especially her. Whatever this something is is making her feel unhappy or, to put it another way, in a mode of internal crisis... to be contined.

PS. What makes a person enter a crisis mode anyway? Or, more specifically, what takes a person away from being happy? ...(assuming that she was happy before).

2008-02-13T11:34:00.001-08:00

to all the boys dormers in da world (daj, melo, jodl, digs, atbp...), para sa inyo to. hapi valentines day. hehe. wag kayong magkaila, ginagawa nyo to non. haha!!!

daj, matanong lang. nagdadala ka pa ba ng songhits sa cr? hehe.

melo, haba na naman ng post mo. grabe.

jodl, pisay@aol.com, pwede pa.

2008-02-12T00:19:00.000-08:00

In search for a method... or song.

For Now, But I Do Not Know Until When
by Lumad Alunsina

.
.
.

For now, but I do not know until when.

I shall not look for talbos ng kamote

I shall not visit my suki in the market for fresh tops

I shall not let the tears of onion permeate through the leaves and stalks

Like tan imaginative salty tears rolling as I expect for your signal of coming by

I shall not chop up ginger and smell the oil- spicy smell of its fragrance

I shall not slice tomatoes and bell pepper to make it yummy

I shall not ask for special bagoong from pangasinan
I shall not slice green mango to add flavor

The fun memory of preparing that salad I must leave now

I was denied to fulfill the cute promise of offering this to you

I knew then, I was not among the people you are excited to see.

I shall not turn the pages of duplo & karagatan

For I still have to feel the spirit of enthusiasm

of you scribing on it

No precious and cherished moment writing replies

Except for one when you asked about religion

You were eyeing for someone then,
She is pious and religious you said
And somehow you said
you want to spend the rest of your life with her

Where is she now by the way?

I shall not visit folk houses, bistros, and nightspots

Along Timog, Visayas , and Project 2-3

do not want to remember anymore

I shall not look back of latest travel if only remembering you

I was embarrassed to myself when i anticipated warm presence of yours...
i was embarrassed to myself when i looked forward to your joyful welcome

I shall not ask any favor from you

For I am afraid to be refused either by silence or inaction

When our path would cross

I shall l not ask you to dine with me for talbos

I shall not l ask you for updating or short storytelling

I shall not ask you for coffee together

Because in my heart I know, you will creatively refuse

I thought then, you were a rock

I was wrong

For you,

It was I who is just a rock and a shadow?

I blame not myself

I blame not you my dear friend

I blame only sentimentality

I am now releasing this pain of my own creation

Sharing this to cold wind of January

And the moon as my gracious witness.

nevertheless

In my heart, you will always be a friend.

i will always treasure you
and remember that at the time i met you
i have seen your pain
and when you whisper about
emotional death, i would want to command
the highest heaven
for your resurrection

in so many ways
you have been through brokenness
you have enough of that
hope that healing would bind all your wounds
and may you receive the grace of forgiveness
from those whom you have hurt

I shall remember the art of your proletarian hands
I shall remember your name A.......

I shall forever believe in you

maybe there shall come a day or a moment
when i shall be no longer a rock nor a shadow to you---

...I shall wait for that moment to come

2008-01-30T16:59:00.000-08:00

I do remember that certain feeling, a certain view of life. Content. Happy. A paradise in bloom. That feeling of living joy, or joy of living, always ready for eternal spring, potent of unendless laughter.

I remember that certain state of mind. It is a mind of thankfulness to everything. Thankful to my mom. I remember that one afternoon riding a tricycle with my mother, heading home telling her of a found love, and sharing my appreciation of life in subtle ways. That was a telling moment for me, telling me now that I was truly happy.

I remember that feeling, only because what I feel now resembles something of that nature. What I feel now reminded me of what I was feeling back then. When all past is forgiven, when I actually find joy in my own company (hehe, narcissus, where are you?). I remember that time, because I have the same inkling of sharing my thoughts to my mom, who I'm just about to see...

2008-01-23T19:07:00.000-08:00

HOME
by Franco Balera

The trace of your lips on mine is gone
The memory of your embrace
Though I can recall my arms on your waist
But barely

I want to feel your warmth
The scent of your hair
The curve on your neck
The softness of your breast

It was the moment that brought us together
However fleeting the hour today
When memories can be lost so easily
Like the bird in flight, the wind on my face

But let hearts be told of us tomorrow
Forever again when we meet
I cradle the lingering thoughts and sprouting dreams
And the imagination of my hands and lips

Speaking of which, my dear
You are my love, my love, my only
Where my dreams continually rest
And my heart forever belonging...

...In the quiet solitude of simple beginnings
You are my home.

2008-01-20T21:16:00.000-08:00

On my first week in PI, I accompanied my cousin to Quezon, purportedly for his girlfriend's family reunion but, in actuality I was there as his "representative" from his family while he was to propose to his soon-to-be fiance. Well, as time told, he is now happily engaged. 'About time, hehe.

On my way home from Quezon, I rode a bus to Manila. I was alone at the time, not lonely, mind you, but pensive. I was thinking about how happy I am to be back home, how all the sceneries I pass by still feel so much like home to me. How I feel home to the culture, that it is this place that my heart still belongs, as compared to all the unfamiliarity I have of the US, ironic because I now have lived more in the US than back home.

I was also thinking of my cousin and his fiance, how they mingle with each other right after the proposal. She was continually saying I-hate-you's though she was obviously exhilerated by what they have just undergone. And my cousin laughing so hard to his heart's content, cherishing every bit of that moment. What strikes me though is the manner of how they, after all these years, have now become really intertwined, like a vine on a wire. They have reached that level of oneness I have rarely seen in a couple. That relationship that defines bestfriends, or what others may prefer to define as soulmates.

So I was thinking about them, and then I realized something of what I want. I then text'ed a good friend of mine, as I have always confided everything dear to my heart to this my friend. I said, "Now I know what I want for a wife. I want someone who can understand the depth of my experienced pain, and from this little beginning be able to share a life with me."

...to be continued.

2008-01-09T16:13:00.000-08:00

So what is love, one may ask? Is it that fire burning inside you that wants to ravage the existing land? Is it that cool spring that soothes the dry earth below? Is it an act of commitment? Is it passion? Is it a humble affection towards another, the quietspeak of the heart?

...I love you inasmuch as I love life. Did I say that before?

...I know this. That love is one of the "precious and fragile things/ that needs special handling..." as Depeche Mode aptly put it. Held too tightly it will break. Thought about too much, it will lose its meaning.

...And I have been in two worlds. The living and the dead. A spirit-world that is real, where creative forces go to work, where hopes and dreams preferably remain, where virtues of humanity construct beauty out of nothing but the will to be (some may say the will to be free). The other world is the world of shadows, of emptiness and despair, devoid of creation, hence devolving into utter destruction.

Love exists to the ones who wants to make love real; and to others it is simply null and void, nonexistent and matters nothing anyway, or so they say.

Love to me then, I have found, lives only in the realm of the living, somewhere in the air above the ground where graves lie.

2008-01-09T16:08:00.000-08:00

Funny, I was looking at my blog entries and I wrote a draft of something way back May of 2007. I do not know why I never posted it then, but I think it's worth posting it now.

---5/7/2007---
I had the most interesting dream last night. I met this girl who just blew my heart away. For some reason, I felt genuinely wanting to bond with her, like that of friends and soulmates, and see what life she is living and where we may end up wanting to go. The acquaintance was magical, and that the spark of a soulful interchange made our time more than routine.

2008-01-05T10:24:00.000-08:00

A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL!!!

...how do I describe what I just went through? Two weeks of intense revelation. Two weeks of constant celebration. Two weeks of, after having shed off all the constant ruminations nagging me before, I face today with that sweet spontaneity of every moment.

Philippines to me will always be my home; this I have come to understand. I keep on telling my friends, jokingly, that it's so funny how whenever I come home to PI I endlessly enjoy living and all the time in between my visits (i.e. when I'm in the US), I just wait for when I'm alive again!!! Haha.

One of my dear uncles gave me the most striking lesson of my visit, if not of my whole life. We were sitting together, and he always with his smile kept on revealing to me how much he misses his son, my cousin, who like me has migrated across the seas. And yet he tells me it pains him to miss him so much, and more because his son, my cousin, would not want to hear any of his misery, understandably because his son, my cousin, suffers the same fate of being apart from loved ones, hence being alone. Yet he is not ashamed of his predicament, but rather in a very soft tone adding the wiseness of his age, tells me something like he knew I also needed to hear. He says, "Makakailiw ak ya maung! Pero antam, mas maung balet so makailiw, ta no andi la, mas mairap; Labay ton ibaga akalingwan ka la." (I miss him so much! But you know, it's better to miss, because it's harder if you no longer do; because that would mean you already have forgotten).

Fresh year. Fresh days. Fresh hope, finally. HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL!!!

2007-12-16T21:32:00.000-08:00

It's been a month since I've been out of work now. Yes, I officially declare that I am a bum... haha! Although, whether it is by chance or by unconscious will of my own, this monumental change may actually be for the best. You see, I am going back to school. Yes (again), I officially declare that I am finally finishing my college years that has been my plight ever since I migrated here in the 'land of plenty.' Let's see, that would mean a grandiose 16 years of endeavor trying to finish what most can in 4 years or 3 years for some of my high school batchmates (mga tsonggits at tsonggets, huwag nyo naman akong tawanan. makakarating din naman ako eh! hehe!!)...

In a few days, I am also going home to PI for Christmas. Yes, I officially declare that I will go to mass (simbang gabi) after 12 years of not experiencing the yuletide season in the 'land of festivities.' Taste the puto-bumbong, light some firecrackers with family and friends, and celebrate life with beloved co-journeyers...

I thought that since I left work, I would have some time to wind down. That did not happen. I got busy with stuff that I simply could not find time to reflect. Of course, the next logical thought would be that I hope to have some reflective moments while I'm away for vacation but as my friends would say, "umasa ka pa!" The trip would be filled with all sorts of activities that I would be surprised if there would be time to wind down. My only fulfillment would come in the creation of moments that, like all the past moments, I will gladly remember over and over and over...

Life is really funny though. In a lot of ways, happiness comes in how one construe his/her life to be. I watched Pendong of Asin last night and in one of their songs "Itanong Mo Sa Mga Bata," it asks the rich and the poor who of them suffers more (...Ikaw ba'y isang mayaman/O ika'y isang mahirap lang/Sino sa inyong dalawa/ Ang mas nahihirapan? Itanong mo sas mga bata...). Of course, the simple answer is the poor. But isn't the rich also suffering from loss of connectivity due to the structural failures of our time?! Anyway, my point is that apart from the economic disparity, I see people either rich or poor capable of celebrating life. Yet I also see people either rich or poor hating life because of the same system that brings about economic disparity! How can that be? But I digress. Anyhow, I am not writing a thesis so I will just say this; that life IS really funny. However absurd the quote is, Forrest is right, "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." But whatever you get, the question is ---would you still be happy?...

Ugh. Now I remember. I told myself I need to write a poem. I would know I am alright if I am able to create one. But I don't got no inspiration!!!!! (ngek! Mga tsong, patulong naman dyan o! Hehe!!)...

Regardless, because I know I may not have another time after this... Merry Christmas everybody! And I hope you'll find moments that will bring you real fancy cheer!!!!!!!! Take care as well.

2007-10-29T20:11:00.000-07:00

...And as the quaker moves plowing the field with his hands, my being spreads out to take note of the vast plain before me. To be. To finally be free. From the chains that bind my soul, my heart. I am once more like the child of a quiet beginning (well, not really... :)).

2007-10-23T17:44:00.000-07:00

And so it is... As the wicked crow overlooks the wretched earth below, pluming with dying embers and billows of smoke, a vain manufacture of detestable destruction--- he quietly shakes off the light ash covering his feathers then flies out to greener pasture.

2007-10-07T22:49:00.000-07:00

Didn't realize that I have always been a die-hard Police fan after all. Back in the day, when cds haven't been invented and cassette tapes are a rare prized possession for someone like me, I depended on the radio to listen to what is out there. And for whatever lack of ability or what not, for the life of me I could never associate the song with the band who played it. But now I can, of course. I have finally, on the ipod, the best, baaaad!!! (hehe), entire collection of songs by Sting and his crew. Amazing!!! Did I tell people how rotten I felt overhearing from a distance the reunion concert they had about six months ago? Man, I was feeling so sore thinking I could have been there while they were playing the classics ---Roxanne, Every Breath You Take, Message in A Bottle, and, of course, the song below.

Man. I should have been there. I really should have been there... tsk. tsk. Too bad. Besides, I could have saved $400 for the ticket easy, right? Yeah, sure. Haha!!! Oh well, maybe one day... when me and my friends can afford to skip buying expensive pain killers for our arthritic knuckles only so we can see them play... hehehehe!! (Arrgh!!! My knees!!!!)

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Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

The Police

...Though Ive tried before to tell her
Of the feelings I have for her in my heart
Every time that I come near her
I just lose my nerve
As Ive done from the start...

...Do I have to tell the story
Of a thousand rainy days since we first met
Its a big enough umbrella
But its always me that ends up getting wet!!!

Every little thing she does is magic

Everything she do just turns me on

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on

...I resolve to call her up a thousand times a day
And ask her if she'll marry me in some old fashioned way
But my silent fears have gripped me
Long before I reach the phone
Long before my tongue has tripped me
Must I always be alone?!!

Every little thing she does is magic

Everything she do just turns me on

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on

2007-10-03T22:29:00.001-07:00

After thirty-three years of living, the following has come to me to be the single moral story life has taught me---

"...After we examine our lives and understand the essence of ourselves and our lives, we have to act decisively. Otherwise, we have empty knowledge and empty lives. The point is not to simply know what to do, but to actually do it."

-Stallone, 2007

2007-09-25T16:32:00.000-07:00

(a passage sent to me by a dear friend... ako lang daw ang kilala nyang super-senti na tyak magugustuhan ko... hehehe. And the funny thing is, tama sya!! Hahaha)

One thing I learned from it all: drinking wine is more than just drinking. You have to know what you are drinking and you have to be able to talk about it. Similarly, just like living life is not enough. We must know what we are living. A life that is not reflected upon isn’t worth living. It belongs to the essence of being human being that we contemplate our life, think about it, discuss it, evaluate it, and form opinion about it. Half of living is reflecting on what being lived. Is it worth? Is it good? Is it bad? Is it old? Is it new? What is all about? The greatest joy as well as the greatest pain of living come not only from what we live but even more from how we think and feel about what we are living. Poverty and wealth, success and failure, beauty and ugliness aren’t just the fact of life. They are realities that are lived very differently by different people, depending on the way they are placed in the larger scheme of things. …Holding the cup of life means looking critically at what we are living. This requires great courage, because when we start looking, we might be terrified by what we see. Questions may arise that we don’t know how to answer. Doubts may come up about the things we thought we were not sure about. Fear may emerge from unexpected places. We are tempted to say, “ Let’s just live life. All this thinking about it only make things harder.” Still, we intuitively know that without looking at life critically we lose our vision and our direction. When we drink the cup without holding it first, we may simply get drunk and wander around aimlessly. ……Like the warrior we must hold our cup and fully claim who we are and what we are called to live. Then we too can shoot for the stars.

Living our lives to others happens every time we speak or act in ways that we make our lives for others. When we are fully able to embrace our own lives, we discover that what we claim we also want to proclaim. A life will held is indeed a life for others. We stop wondering whether our life is better or worse than others and start seeing clearly that when we live our life for others we not only claim our individuality but also proclaim our unique place in the mosaic of the human family.

by Henri Nouwen

2007-09-16T13:31:00.000-07:00

In the absence of SONG---

I'm supposed to meet an old high school friend today (he's in town). It would be nice to catch up with him and see how he's doing now. Although, inevitably as it goes, we always head our conversations back to our days of fonder. But I'm not sure if I want to engage in such memory trail now. True, life then was so much fun. Memories belonging to those days are abundant, Without a doubt, that period has been the best times of my life thus far.

But today though, I'm really not sure if I want to relive that time. Not that I hate it nor am scared to be reminded that those times now belong in the annals of my-story (cause I'm sure I will still relive those moments over and over).

There is something important for me that I want to do these days more than reminiscing... I want to live--- I want to live, today and discover what this present life has in store for me. I need to embrace this life I'm living today, and I won't deny myself of this opportunity, not anymore.

...yun lang. the end. bow. >:)

2007-08-29T22:15:00.000-07:00

A friend told me just the other day, "It is easy to be a man. The difficult part is how to be a human." Like the carrots and the eggs, we go through life and suffer pain without our acceptance of it, of course. And just the other day, I witnessed myself cursing life and cursing death and, with fist in the air, whispered, "I did not asked for this! Yet why do I bear it?!!"

...Like a brat that waits for the food to be set on the table, I am now in my thirties. I did not asked for sour soup. I wanted honeys. But without any precondition of thought, I get served with what I did not expect. And the anger and the fury ang the rage. "D@#$ you!!! D#$%# you to death!!!" as I reckon with Fate.

...Yet I had years of listening to Silence and have been an earnest student of it. Somewhere along the way, it has taught me the significance of the Now, and the restlessness of oneself when bogged down by terrible Fate from the past. One's present condition cannot be denied, but One should not be paralyzed by it. We become hard shells because of the Wicked Past and how we fear of it's repetition. And yet this is the one thing we should definitely avoid, because by being so, hardened as hard can be, we become immune to what really gives life meaning, like zombies, the walking dead (sorry, one of my favorite symbolisms).

Some time ago, I talked about my being schizophrenic in my memory ---I can remember my high school life and the Now but not in between. And yet my life has become disjointed and jumbled and jaded and broken to millions of pieces. But lately, I somehow have been able to reconnect the dots. I do not know how, but that I can now. Maybe to fashion my state of mind and understanding with full acceptance of where I am, I have been able to see my feet today as the same feet that has been journeying life since then in my memorable youth. And to have captured today who I was then, with all the stupidity, cupidity, and openness of the heart, and be able to commune with that Soul of the Past, I said to my feet, "Well, this is where we are now. So, where to next?" as I look around at the Living World.

...Today, life can't be any better, only for reasons that now I can stand, open, and walking again. I sure still miss my friends though. Ah! Such is just the classic Immigrant Life!!! >:b

2007-08-26T10:50:00.000-07:00

Sundays...

I wake up to the morning rattle of household chores. Feet walking to the kitchen, hands trying to prepare food for breakfast, bathroom doors opening and closing, and the television turning on to kids' cartoons. The family is preparing to go to church! I get woken up by my cousin telling me it's time for church. I wake up, and try to get to making coffee, when I decide instead I feel like going to the bathroom (wait, actually, it was my body who decided for me). But when I get to the door, somebody else beat me to it. So I wait in line, until when I checked again, another person beat me to it! So then I announce to everybody I want to go next, so whoever would use the shower must wait after the other bathroom errands get taken cared of!!! Grrrr!

But despite the morning wake up call, I do not mind it at all. My Sunday experiences bring me back to a time of happiness. A dozen people living in a townhouse (when we initially migrated in the US) with only one bathroom to share! Folks are crammed up into the small living space and trying to make use of whatever we got. And only one television then, which of course my grandmother get first dibs watching filipino tv. But despite the lack of resources as compared to others, it was a time of sweet harmony, with a lot of love, a lot of sharing. Jokes naturally pop up in conversations, and tricksters like me would come up with whatever pops up in my head. Help comes natural. Moments endlessly sprout. I could never forget that time in my life, and I will always cherish and remember that time with fondness. It is in this time that my grandmother is immortalized in my mind, who has been the centerpoint and origin of our family's love. There is a Filipino saying that my grandmother always says, "Aanhin mo ba ang isang mansyon kung hindi naman ito tahanan?" (What good is a mansion if it cannot be called a home?)

And so this is my home. Friends always joke me about being unavailable on the weekends cause I'm always with my family. But it is this family that surely feeds my heart, and continues to do so. They have been there for me especially in the darkest moments of my life, especially my only brother (I think he's the only one, hehe!!!), and I will always be thankful for this all my life.

2007-08-22T22:07:00.000-07:00

A Chinese Folktale...

There was once a beautiful maiden taking a bath in a pond surrounded by trees, naked. As she was enjoying the warm waters, she said, "If someone will see me right now, I promise, I will marry him." And in an instant from the nearby bushes out comes this young man who then replied, "Well, I saw you. You have to marry me." And they then got married and were in so much love.

The young man never wanted to leave his wife, so the wife told him, "I know it is hard for you to leave me, so I made a picture of myself that you can carry with you wherever you go. When you miss me, just look at the picture like I am there right beside you, and you will be fine." So that was how he was able to leave her beside.

One day as he was looking, the wind took the picture away from his hands and carried it to the emperor's palace, and into the emperor's lap. Upon seeing it, the emperor said, "Can this be true? Is there such beauty in this world?" He then sent his men to look for the girl.

When he found that she was indeed real, the emperor summoned his knights to take the girl to the palace to be his wife. When the knights reached the girl, she was with her husband, who fought them, to his death, from his wife being taken from him.

When the woman was brought to the palace, the emperor looked at her, and told her she will be his wife. But the woman said, "I will marry you, if you can do three things for me. First, you must give me an elegant dress full of pearls which I can wear. Second, you must build me a three-story house right beside that river. And third, on the top floor you must build a terrace where I can have a view of the water." And the emperor agreed with all his riches.

When all the three wishes were made, the woman then wore the magnificent dress and went up to the terrace on the top floor. Once there, she look at the emperor and cursed him, with all the misery and rage he has cast upon her soul, and jumped into the river to her death. And the emperor, to his madness, ordered his men to chop her body into tiny pieces and throw then back into the river. When this was done, and the pieces were thrown, they became tiny silver fishes that have come to swim the waters ever since...

2007-07-22T21:04:00.000-07:00

i have said my prayers a thousand times
each morning when i awake
and each reflection brings me to my knees
and beg forgiveness each passing day

i say goodbye a thousand times
and everytime i wish you well
i kiss the memories their last farewell
into the cave of forever lost

yet each passing day i wish i can
take the courage to bid the times away
and take the moments as they come
without any thought you stay

so now i trek into the world of the unknown
and be by myself alone
and the only saving grace to my own face
is to see you happy once more

and i pray you will be happier
happier as before...

Peter Bjorn and Jhon - Young Folk (Feat Victoria Be)

2007-07-17T22:20:00.001-07:00

Didn't particularly like the music video that comes with this song, so I found one that only came with the music. Besides, it is the lyrics that appeal to me and I think the beat is quite, errr.... okay... "cute," which I just decided to post instead.

light song, pretty in pink, sweet... here it goes.

========================

if i told you things i did before
told you how i used to be
would you go along with someone like me
if you knew my story word for word
handled all of my history
would you go along with someone like me

i did before and had my share
it didn't lead nowhere
i would go along with someone like you
it doesn't matter what you did
who you were hanging with
we could stick around and see this night through

and we don't care about the young folks
talkin' bout the young style
and we don't care about the old folks
talkin' 'bout the old style too
and we don't care about our own folks
talkin' 'bout our own stuff
all we care about is talking
talking only me and you

usually when things has gone this far
people tend to disappear
no one would surprise me unless you do

i can tell there's something goin' on
hours seem to disappear
everyone is leaving i'm still with you

it doesn't matter what we do
where we are going to
we can stick around and see this night through

and we don't care about the young folks
talkin' bout the young style
and we don't care about the old folks
talkin' 'bout the old style too
and we don't care about our own folks
talkin' 'bout our own stuff
all we care about is talking
talking only me and you

2007-07-15T12:41:00.000-07:00

I have not gone to school for a while now, although I've been badly wanting to go back and finish it. I started really loving learning when I sank into my period of melancholia over a decade ago. I guess my loneliness prompted me to seek some understanding if only to elevate myself out of my condition. So I took psychology classes and hence started my trek into the world of the human soul.

A classic experiment that struck me is by a psychologist named Martin Seligman in the '70s. He experimented on the canine species, looking for the effects of non-escape on behavior. Initially, dogs who were shocked found a way out of their predicament. They were able to learn pretty quickly how to escape the shock predicament they were in. However, dogs that had no way to escape the shock intitially looked at all possibilities of escape but after having found none would eventually sink in to passivity. The dogs would start to whimper when the shock turns on but would not move at all. They would just suffer the shock, surprisingly even if at a later time they were giv en a way out (i.e. they have simply given up). The worse part about this is that these dogs who have "learned helplessness" would exhibit a certain temperament of passivity all throughout their lives.

In psychology literature, the experiment was groundbreaking in that it shed a light on the human condition of depression. So many other experiments were conducted (on humans, but not the condition of being shocked, of course :)) to characterize the condition. Some experts suggest drugs to alleviate the disease, others suggest behavior-modification, and still others suggest changing the way the person thinks (i.e. cognitive-therapy). I would not try to dissect the different therapies, although I have opinions of them; in no way do I consider myself an expert critic on this matter.

But I have experimented on myself on this, and in my world, I have found some answers that helped me out. Here are some of them:

1. First and foremost, I do not consider myself as a dog in the experiment. For one thing, humans have the capacity to rationalize their situation. And moreover, I don't think treating dogs as mechanical beings (i.e. they only respond to stimuli!) is the proper view to the nature of things.
2. Because of our capacity to rationalize, it is important to take note of the contextual view of our lives. Being poor does not mean that you are less worthy, or being a janitor does not mean it's your fault that you cannot make ends meet for your family. Being constantly preoccupied with work and not have time with family or friends does not mean you are a bad mother/father/lover (although there may be a need to shift your priorities). It is important to view things situationally and not be sucked into self-hate and/or self-pity. A lot of times, being lonely or resltless just means you are tired and you need some time for meaningful reflection.
3. Last thing is that I have found having goals and achieving them, though it may give some kind of satisfaction, it is not the end-all and be-all in someone's happiness. Being goal-oreinted is not the means to arrive at happiness; on the contrary, I find it hindering. Striving to be a good mother sometimes is not the key but rather spending moments with your child already fills the cup. Nowadays, I find that I don't pursue things for happiness. I just pursue things because it is what I want, it makes sense for me to do, and that like all of us it is in my nature to conceive of things and to do it. But pursuing things is already apart from being happy. Caring for life and sharing my life with others already makes me happy.

...At the end of the day, I look at my cat carefully wagging his tail looking at the world. I come home and he comes to me like a child, really. In that moment, we commune with each other, and he looks at me as I look at him, and share ourselves in a certain time and space that only both of us occupy. I believe that we actually care for each other, and that even if most think animals don't have the capacity to love, at least he is capable of something close to it. And to be happy, with no worries that he does not have a bachelor's degree nor a career that he can find satisfaction at. Just being a cat and living his life without no worries nor baggage gives his life the meaning that we all look for in ours. Take that! haha... joke lang :))

Coldplay - The Scientist [Live]

2007-06-27T22:34:00.001-07:00

A friend introduced me to this song, said she likes the band a lot. While I haven't caught up much with recent bands (i.e. post Pearl Jam/STP hype-era, tagal na no?), I naturally got intrigued with her choice of bands. I went to the one place everyone nowadays go to for info: wikipedia, and found out that the band is quite respectable in my terms. Not bad, for a new band (hah! I'm sounding like my uncles then now, hehe). But I like the fact that they are outspoken against the war in Iraq and against using their songs for big business advertising. Ms pinkipod, you'll like this, another Bono in the making? hehe.

Meanwhile, another friend at work who I really appreciate his presence (although silently) came up to me one day and asked me, "Are you ok?" I responded with a snobbish silence (as I am
known at work, haha!). Then he added, "Hmmm... I like that, silence. You know, philosophers say that humans speak words when their being is in a state of conflict. That's why they speak because by speaking, they transcend their current conflicted state. Words come out as the synthesis, in the Kantian sense. On the other hand people who are silent may just have no conflict in their minds at all, they are at peace, so they don't need to say anything."

After that, I just had to crack up. I laughed so hard because that is so him! And the funniest part about it is that most of what he says are true, and I believe it! Yet I continued with my silence (brat! hehe). As he walked away, he looked back at me with a smile, because he knows he would see what he expected to see from my face ---a smile that reflects back to him. And I'm pretty sure he was thinking, "Hah! Got 'im again!!! hehe!" And he is right.

Anyway, to tie up my accounts of friends, I am generally in a state of happiness now, though of course, I have to struggle with words (hehe) and circumstances in my life. But it is quite a certain peace of a new level. Ms. Weiwa is right about not needing expectations and opening one's eyes to the whole view of things, or of a person. After a certain era of my life comes another one. I was happy at one point in time. Then I was down. Now I am happy again. Coming full circle, going back to the start. And with a fresh view of things, sprouts another season. Not expectations now, but rather hope of good things to come. You know, we were all kids once, right? We all have a right to hope again, but of course unburdened by expectations of the heart.

2007-06-24T12:28:00.000-07:00

He is propped upright in some last lost corner of his life
Waiting for the only new thing left to see
He cultivates memories rich and brown like gardens---
Hardly eighty his eyes already inward turning
He has banished himself to worlds of fine gray dust
Tonight, wrapped around a chair
He rolls another damped cigarette
And sends those blue clouds on their familiar reach
Into the bag of weathered yarns
And like some deaf and total plasmic being
Turns himself inside out
To feed on the silence that is me.

The Silence That is Me
by Utah Philips

-----------------------------------------------

Woke up today listless, not wanting to do anything but just to go somewhere. Maybe I'll go to Santa Cruz, just take the drive with my super-vintage car (hehe!) in hope that we will manage to pass that crazy drive over the mountain. Just put some songs into the stereo and keep on going. And in the middle of the way, I will let my mind drift off to silly imaginations and memories as I normally do, with the help of sound and scenery, in the hope that I will finally get to my destination.

There are two things there I want to see--- St George Hotel and that bronze statue of the saw-playing musician. But apart from the goal of seeing the two, the ride in itself I think is already worth the while for me.

Hmmm... I may have really just convinced myself to do it! See what writing does to me?!! Hehe. Thanks, ms. pinkipod, for telling me about blogging >:)

2007-06-17T23:26:00.000-07:00

I use writing not only as a means of expression but also as an aid in "knowing one's self" ---soulsearching, as some may say. But lately, it's been hard to write. Blame it on a busy schedule, I say. And my constant allergies during summertime. I don't sneeze, but my eyes get itchy all the time.

For a while now too, I've been searching for something to read. I can't think of anything that I want to invest time on reading. As compared to my friends who can read a 300-page novel in a day, I am a very slow reader. I would blame it on being dyslexic, except that I am really not :) So when it comes to books, I try to be more or less selective since I know I am gonna read one for weeks, if not a whole month. Whew! But even if reading for me is far slower than watching the movie, it is actually more amusing (diba, diba?)

In any case, I haven't been doing much lately, I guess (or nothing out of the ordinary). Work in the morning, take a nap in the afternoon, jog maybe, then on weekends I go to my brother's house to "chill with the homies (hehe!)". Still work around cars (just minor work), spend time with my cousin who I grew up with in PI who is a recent immigrant, and do a little "chillin by myself" (though I need to do more of this I think). Yet I actually like this down time. Away from a so-called busy life. It is on this mode of living that I start to daydream again... (to be continued)

2007-06-14T22:01:00.000-07:00

It is just a ratte of life.
It is just the rattle of daily life.
What else can you say?!!
It's just a rattle of daily living...

2007-06-11T11:43:00.000-07:00

80's Rule, Babyyy!!!!

I'm with a coworker watching videos at work of the 80s. We've been on this 80s craze for about 2 weeks now. One of his favorite songs is from Boy George's Culture Club, and we have a blast playing it on and on and on 'cause he had this story of men back then thinking Boy George was a real woman who they thought was "hot" until realizing their "heartache" when, as truth be told, 'she' turned out to be really 'he.' Haha!

Anyway, I watched the Grindhouse last week too for the same reasons (double showing movie + blurry/static-ky reel + half-baked scripts and classic blood squirt/squeeze = total 80's genre). It was fun; I had to laugh at how the movie captured the 80s mood pretty well but also cracked up at my movie-buddies because they were a definite next generation with their "what in the hell is this?!" and "this does not make sense at all!!" looks. Hehe!

Whatever the reasons are, or why I am getting this 80s mania in my life right now, I don't really know. But the ride trekking back to that time where high school was so much fun for me is, remarkably, still quite the fun... :)

=====================================

This song came up to me while we're watching famous VH1 videos on the net. After reading the lyrics, and with no apparent connection at all, why am I now thinking about quitting work?!! >:))

Fast Car
Tracy Chapman

You got a fast car
I want a ticket to anywhere
Maybe we make a deal
Maybe together we can get somewhere
.
Any place is better
Starting from zero got nothing to lose
Maybe we'll make something
But me myself I got nothing to prove
.
You got a fast car
And I got a plan to get us out of here
I been working at the convenience store
Managed to save just a little bit of money
We won't have to drive too far
Just 'cross the border and into the city
You and I can both get jobs
And finally see what it means to be living
.
You see my old man's got a problem
He live with the bottle that's the way it is
He says his body's too old for working
I say his body's too young to look like his
My mama went off and left him
She wanted more from life than he could give
I said somebody's got to take care of him
So I quit school and that's what I did
.
You got a fast car
But is it fast enough so we can fly away
We gotta make a decision
We leave tonight or live and die this way
.
I remember we were driving driving in your car
The speed so fast I felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder
And I had a feeling that I belonged
And I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone
.
You got a fast car
And we go cruising to entertain ourselves
You still ain't got a job
And I work in a market as a checkout girl
I know things will get better
You'll find work and I'll get promoted
We'll move out of the shelter
Buy a big house and live in the suburbs
.
You got a fast car
And I got a job that pays all our bills
You stay out drinking late at the bar
See more of your friends than you do of your kids
I'd always hoped for better
Thought maybe together you and me would find it
I got no plans
I ain't going nowhere
So take your fast car and keep on driving
.
You got a fast car
But is it fast enough so you can fly away
You gotta make a decision
You leave tonight or live and die this way

2007-05-29T22:46:00.000-07:00

i gotta go i gotta go. too occupied to blog. but three thoughts to sum up where i'm at---

-beyond politics are like kids in the playground; we should always strive to build past our current uncaring designs;
-in our world where everything is being made like styrofoam, it is just right to think that nothing is dispensible; all your memories are valuable, be it good or bad, and that out of all the heap or the rubble one can continue to build on what has been done;
-to dream, to joke, to smile, to be able to absorb the moment without regard for worries nor baggage---these are things that everyone must continually learn from children.

okay, enough said. i really gotta go... bye!

2007-05-17T19:50:00.000-07:00

If I try to sum up my mood of the day, I would just stare into the wall for hours and not come up with anything. That's just it. Blah. Just straight up "blah!"

Maybe it's because I've been tied up with work. Maybe because there's no clear understanding on where I would like my life to go. Maybe because I let my eyes wander to whoever comes my way. Maybe because I don't want to make a choice. Maybe I got the blues. Maybe I got the reminiscing of bitter and of sweet. Maybe I just enjoy the company of friends. Maybe I just soak up the tangle in the moment.

Or maybe I just haven't ask myself how the hell are you, and see the mirror of one's own self, and try to understand what a hidden heart slowly speaks, of will and of sentiment, of passion and of sweet intentions. And act on it as one should do, and enjoy the path where your feet takes you, and your hands to craft the future that awaits its becoming one with you.

Yeah, that's just what it is, I guess.

2007-05-15T22:42:00.000-07:00

Just a little something I love listening to. And don't worry, I am not entering another episode of depressed state again. But maybe the blues, that come through like a wind, and nowadays lord knows where it's coming from. It just comes and goes...

I gotta give it up though, Adam's good.

------------------------------

When I think of heaven

Deliver me in a black-winged bird

I think of flying down into a sea of pens and feathers

And all other instruments of faith and sex and God in the belly of a black-winged bird.

Don't try to feed me

I've been here before and I deserve a little more

I belong in the service of the queen

I belong anywhere but in between

She's been crying, I've been thinking

And I am the rain king

And I said mama, mama, mama, why am I so alone? I can't go outside

I'm scared I might not make it home

I'm alive, I'm alive but I'm sinking in

If there's anyone at home at your place, darling

Why don't you invite me in?

Don't try to bleed me

'Cause I've been there before and I deserve a little more

I belong in the service of the queen

I belong anywhere but in between

Sh'es been lying, I've been sinking

And I am the rain king

Hey, I only want the same as anyone

Henderson is waiting for the sun

Oh, it seems night endlessly begins and ends

After all the dreaming I come home again...

When I think of heaven

Deliver me in a black-winged bird

I think of dying

Lay me down in a field of flame and heather

Render up my body into the burning heart of God in the belly of a black-winged bird

Don't try to bleed me

'Cause I've been here before and I deserve a little more

I belong in the service of the queen

I belong anywhere but in between

Shes been dying, Ive been drinking

And I am the rain king...

-Counting Crows

2007-05-09T23:15:00.000-07:00

...The wind was behind them now, so they didn’t have to shout.

"Rabbit’s clever," said Pooh thoughtfully.

"Yes," said Piglet, "Rabbit’s clever."

"And he has a Brain."

"Yes," said Piglet, "Rabbit has a Brain."

[Then] there was a long silence.

"I suppose," said Pooh, "that that’s why he never understands anything."

—from Benjamin Hoff’s
Tao of Pooh

2007-05-01T21:58:00.000-07:00

I miss the time I had in high school. But really, what I miss, is the ability and the time available to live one's life.

To all the working people around the world ---happy birthday!!!

2007-05-01T21:54:00.000-07:00

I think I know why. I really think I know why. Your need to love is greater than your need for love. Your love mandates you to move, more than anything else, including what you get in return. I only wished it was a better world, no?, where love is equally shared, and fairly reciprocated. But such things don’t even matter, right? It is what you give, never what you receive. It is true that love is an ever-consuming thing, but it is also an act that truly transcends selfish pride...

...You know what I really wish? I wish there were more of us... haha!!! >:)

2007-04-29T08:21:00.000-07:00

...After years of meditation on the true meaning of life, the now frail and withered wise man decided to drop his occupation, and just start to daydream...

2007-04-22T23:28:00.000-07:00

While this game of statistics and "everybody is just a number" mentality keeps on invading my everyday life, there is at least still in me a part where every life is precious, and that every people I meet becomes special to me. And this part which values friendship and love and life do want to say something ---

Welcome home, Noelle!!!

I hope and pray your life will be so much fun,

that your life will be filled with love,

And that you will grow to be the beacon of care as your mother has always been.

Happy Birthday!!!