Wednesday, November 21, 2007
When God said, "let there be light", karla stefan said, "say 'please'."
karla stefan sheds her skin twice a year.
Ninjas want to grow up to be just like karla stefan. But usually they grow up just to be killed by karla stefan.
karla stefan can slam revolving doors.
Some people wear Superman pajamas. Superman wears karla stefan pajamas.
When karla stefan answers the phone, she just says "Go". This is not permission for you to begin speaking, it is your cue to start running for your life.
When karla stefan falls in water, karla stefan doesn't get wet. Water gets karla stefan.
karla stefan doesn't have blood. She is filled with magma.
karla stefan eats lightning and farts thunder.
Rosa Parks refused to get out of her seat because she was saving it for karla stefan.
For every person Mother Nature kills, karla stefan kills five.
Noah was the only man notified before karla stefan relieved herself in the Atlantic Ocean.
Whoever said "only the good die young" was probably in karla stefan's kindergarten class.
karla stefan will never have a heart attack. Her heart isn't nearly foolish enough to attack her.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
And she doesn't know how to teach. Like every meeting she just reads the book, talks to herself and do some kind of sermon. Everything she says is already there in our book; she just translates it to Bisaya "so we'd understand further". The examples she gives are mediocre and they're stuff we learned in first year.
You know autism? Yeah, she kinds of has that. Coz autistic people's mirror neurons(those that mirror memories to recognize a familiar face or event) are broken so they can't look at people in the eye and everything is new to them. She doesn't establish eye contact with us. NOT.EVER. You know what she does? She just stares outside the window and talks and talks. She even doesn't face half of the class.
She uses a lot of time writing stuff on the board. We're left with nothing to do on our seats but wait, sometimes check our lip gloss, or, you know, send SMS messages.
She's as erratic as a tornado; she flings from one mood and another. One minute she's strict coz she has the oh-I'm-so-high-wtf-I'm-a-teacher attitude and the next she'll be like an orphaned pup.
Here's what I don't like the most. 5% of her grading comes from attendance (truants rally!) and a student gets a plus 2 on his/her final grade if s/he has a perfect attendance. First, this is supposed to be bawal. It's in the handbook baby. And i really told her that. When she heard it, she looked annoyed and told us, "This is academic freedom." Well, i dunno what is the scope of academic freedom so i just didn't push further. The I informed her that it was in the handbook that grading attendance is really bawal but she said it was okay. She even told us "Ayaw nyo ng plus?" ("You don't want to get bonus points?") My classmates mellowed. (They feigned?) they wanted the plus badly. Gawd.
Personally, I think she's doing too much. The 2point incentive may be okay, it's like a reward anyway. But the 5% is too much. It's like she's insecure of the attendance that she has to pay people to be there. See, if the student sees enough incentive enough in the class to actually go to class, then s/he will attend classes.
Last semester, I had a class under Mr. Rex Rola. He is a horror terror teacher in terms of grading. Like, last sem out of the four sections he handled, only four people passed his subject. Whew. (I'm darn lucky.) He is a brilliant brilliant man, with an exceptional mind and beautiful lecture skills. He never checked the attendance. Sometimes I'd go to class tapos ako lang isa ang estudyante. He didn't care. He even still lectured like the classroom was full. See, people who really go to class are the people who really are interested in the class.
I remember. I always felt sorry everytime I had to absent in Mr. Rola's class. I always learned something every day. I always felt like a wiser person every time I step out of F403. But now? I dunno. With her, it's an eternal reklamo-fest.
She makes schooling get in the way of my education.
PS. Things here are based on my reality. Get it? MY.REALITY. Besides, who told you to be here?
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Sleep close to me
Thunders are over.
We crumpled the sheets
We spilled the wine
We interchanged our perfumes
And now I’m feeling
A mixture of ceremony
But it doesn’t matter.
It’s now just you and me
And the smoke
Fragrant with orchids
When you exhale
And the foam of euphoria
Slowly filling my head
Sleep close to me
As I recall
Traveling the landscapes
Of your skin
Sniff the mist of
On your hair
Did I not tell you
That every breath you take
Weaves a rhythm of peace
And skies and hearts?
Did I not tell you
That the faint fold
In the bed you leave
When you turn the other side
Is left with a glimmering
Essence of apology?
But I won’t tell you anything.
Sleep close to me, my love
I will not wake you up..
Remember, we’ve just
Been to Neverland.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
time and again we'll be confronted with realities that supercede understanding and compromise.
love vs home.
love vs family.
love vs friendship.
love vs career.
it's as if things are mutually exclusive.
so couples should learn to work to make things work.
they should constantly reaffirm that choice.
and stand by it.
fight for it.
live through it. :)
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Just came home from Manila, and Baguio and the 9th NDC. Oh well. We (Team C) did not make it till Octofinals but our team B (David and Tateen) went as far as semifinals. Making it til quarters was team B (Sam and Marj) and AdDU also had three speakers who got into top-ten-best-speakership. Top 6 yata si David, then top 5 si Sam, top 4 naman si Marj. (Hoot hoot!)
I feel so proud for the club. Andrew told me that the schools in NDC are already expecting AdDU to reach AT LEAST semis in most national tournaments. The 9th NDC was my first national tournament and I think I did okay naman. I gave it my all. That’s enough for me. And hey, I love debating. Win or lose. J
I met a lot of great people in NDC. Hahaha. Those whom I debated, ate, danced, and sang, got drunk with. Can’t wait for MPDC or Vismin. Or the next NDC.
And guess what, we won the bid. The 10th National Debate Championships will be held here in Davao City! Haha! At last! I won’t have to worry about funds regarding my not-last NDC
I feel so tired. I dunno why…but I took three baths since yesterday evening. I missed Davao so much. Here is the list of things I made sure I did during my first hour back here.
*hugged my family
*gulped a glass of Davao water
*overflowed the laundry baskets
*asked about AdDU HS training
*changed into comfy Davao clothes
I finally got hold of the paper which had my poem in it. (Sunstar Davao Oct. 21, 2007; Sunday) Boy, was I proud. My poem sat next to stories written by members of the Davao Writers Guild. :) The poem is Minatamis [http://implicitinfluence.blogspot.com/2007/07/minatamis.html]. It is an “erotic poem” clothed with the metaphor of a plateful of the famous Filipino dessert, Minatamis.
My next goal is to go to Silliman. I’ll pass some of my poems to their National Writers Workshop---the biggest writing workshop in the country. The Silliman Writers Workshop is where Palanca awardees are bred. Besides, I can cross-train (debate!) with them Silliman debaters there too. :)
I have good vibes this coming sem. *wink wink*
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
I repeat, I am addicted to coffee. I drink the instant ones, the brewed ones and eat the candied ones. It causes my heart beat to race. I sometimes hear my pulse because I think I just drank a lot of coffee. There are days when coffee to me is breakfast. One mug and I’m off to go. It’s like that. My mom gets mad but I don’t care. This is what addiction is.
Sometimes I feel guilty about it. I’ve already heard from a lot of people that drinking a lot of coffee is not good for the body. In fact, I have this friend who had a frightening story about her friend, who did not sleep for five days straight. She gagged on a coffee shop like someone who is epileptic. She lost consciousness and was rushed to the nearest hospital. This is all because of coffee addiction. Though it scares me a little, coffee to me is a love that turned into a vice.
Yes, the craving experience mentioned in the paper totally happens to me. My day isn’t complete without it. I am like turned-on by everything that smells like coffee. When I had my Humanities 1 class last summer, we were tasked to paint using coffee. I discovered that painting was so much fun when you use coffee. After the arts activity, I actually thought of painting my room with coffee. I just wanted to wake up to the scent of it.
I'm loving my Psych classes and our prof Sir Sanchez was right. When you eat/drink something, it doesn’t only involve your taste buds. It is a different experience. To quote a classmate, “eating is the highest form of glory because saints, warriors, terrorists and scientists stop whatever they are doing just to eat”. Sir said eating/drinking also involves the sense of smell. Look at how Jollibee effectively raised sales because of their “Langhap Sarap” tag. It also involves the sense of sight, which is why microwaveables don’t appeal to us that much. Sometimes it is joined with the sense of touch. I feel this whole experience everytime I drink coffee. The aroma itself felt so good I can almost taste it.
Though coffee is so much a part of my system now that if I don’t drink coffee for the day I become so sleepy during late afternoon, I limit myself to two cups of coffee a day at most. At random times of the day, I also eat coffee candy. I control a little because I don’t want to gag in front of class someday. I still love my sleep too. This is why even when my addiction can be cured, I don’t think I have the need to. It’s not at all very harmful anyway. I’ve also read that sometimes smelling a certain food will satisfy cravings. So I’m glad there are coffee candies sold outside the school.
As you can notice, this blog entry is a testimony of my coffee addiction. That alone will tell you how addicted I am. For the record, I’m happy that I’m addicted to coffee.
At least I’m not doing drugs.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
What am I losing you to?
The me who loves you
And the me who loves me
Like two big plates
Of viands on a
And I wait for your
What am I losing you to?
I’ve read the papers
I’ve read her letters
And baby asks too much.
I don’t know how to answer
When there is sweat on my ankles
Dried brandy at the
Sides of my lips.
I grip at the ends of your mercy.
Even when I tend your abode
Even when I tend to
Your immediate desires.
Come back home.
Baby asks too much.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
I think, that something is just THERE to make things wrong. It is an implicit force driven to clothe intentions with wrong intentions, of kindness with deceit and of truth with fallacies.
It is a covering; like that of a kwek-kwek...thick, ugly and consuming.
It blurs our perceptions of people, moreover, it filters the good things that people give to us. It rearranges the sequence of sensitive events, those which break hearts, homes and institutions.
It is the reason why when one offers to help, one is usually accused of having motives, or of not helping enough. It is the reason why we always think twice if one says s/he love us ("i love you.." "really?") but we don't think twice when somebody tells us that s/he hates us ("i hate you").
It is always determined to make things wrong. It is an unseen enemy. Unsought. Unstoppable. Inevitable.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
--He’s telling you that you will be talking about your relationship
“and I feel like
--He wants to be heard first
“we should take a break.
--he pauses, then inspects your reaction. (deep breath optional)
“Things have been very hard for me
--you are thinking why he never talked to you about it
“and I don’t want them to be harder in the near future.
--he needs something convenient
“I don’t want you to be hurt more in the process
--he sounds as if he cares. Then you wait for his next phrase.
“that’s why I’m telling this to you now.
--he sounds as if he is actually doing you a favor.
“but don’t think that it’s your fault
--he assumes that you blame yourself but really, you are still in the process of digesting things
“it is mine actually
--he takes the blame for it. He expects you to say it’s not his fault
“I feel that I need space
--he doesn’t need you anymore
“in order to understand myself
--really now. Is this the first time?
“to find reasons in the things I do.
--he acts pitiful. He wants you to pity him.
“I don’t know why I’m feeling this way
--*blank stares* he is thinking of what to say next
“I loved you, I’m sure.
--he wants to reassure you that everything was real and reasonable
“but I can’t keep you waiting
--he reinforces that it is reasonable by assuming that waiting is such a bad thing to occur to anyone
“I don’t want to deny you of your freedom
--again, he makes it look as if he’s doing you a favor
“because I still care for you.
--he wants you to feel better to feel better about himself.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
And though meeting you is not very convenient, I still like thinking of you and my life with you in it. Amazing how the past days have become. I have not been the usual me. I just find myself missing you more. And missing you less…because I know I’ll see you soon. Plus I’ll be seeing more of you. Such a nice thought.
I’m fighting the urge to SMS you because I don’t want to be too obvious. And trust me, this is not usual. I surf the net to check how you are but I do not find anything interesting. Nothing new. Just the same you; the same you I had come to like so profusely these past few days.
Conversations with you (at night) had been one of the bests I’ve had in my life. I have never felt more understood. Whenever you speak with me I feel like a kid, listening to his soccer coach who is also his dad. So full of amazement and respect. And a pinch of love. Those are the kinds of nights when I wish that God would forget to put oil in the earth’s axis; then the earth wouldn’t rotate, then the night wouldn’t end.
Right now, everything is blurry for the forecasted “us”. But I know---because I feel it in the depths of my heart---that someday, we will make such a nice couple. We will live a fruitful life. We shall conquer the world together and every night, you shall sleep with poems under your pillow. Every morning, you shall wake up to my songs in the shower.
We will put up a business together. We will support the kids that worship the same art that we do. We will be happy and we'll grow old together.
And if you are reading this, you will know that I am talking about you. You will smile because I have become such a sissy. But you know, I think I love you. There are just too many to love.
But I’ll see you soon. Promise.
Monday, July 23, 2007
With warm sugar
Competing for my
I pinched the topmost
Piece with the fork
In my hand
Some juice squirting
I bit it
Lava that dripped
It was hard
Not to close my eyes
As I savored each bite
Thick with glory
There seemed to be
The sugary sauce
All over my mouth
Before it dives
Down my throat
Then after that
My taste buds waited
For the next shot
Of those cubed friends
And for the first time
After I received
My eyes darted
A little upward
And then, and there,
A more blatant kind
To go closer
It sat across
That sugary taste
Sunday, July 15, 2007
You are two hours late.
And as usual,
I compose reasons for you
As if those would heal.
As if we can stay.
I haven’t heard
From you for a long time.
Did you take care
Of my bonsai?
Did you keep
The withered roses
By the medicine cabinet?
Did you throw away
The tea bags I hid
Under the sink?
Let’s get back
Have you also forgotten
To love me today?
Monday, July 9, 2007
Top ten killers by year 2020 will be led by Cancer, and next is (guess what) depression. I’ve read an article in a health magazine which says so. Diabetes, even, comes third.
Reading such article amazed and alarmed me. Times got faster. Technology kept on improving just as fast as a baby born in China. Thing is, because technology has been seen to do so much for the human race, people expect more from it. We want things to be as fast, as efficient and (what the hell) as cheap as the ideal gadget we have in mind. See, people are more impatient now. I know. I am guilty of this too. I don’t like colored cellphones because they have “Opening Folder” flashed on the screen when I open messages. It takes longer to go in and out the inbox. I am pissed by dial-up internet. Even waiting for a jeepney for five minutes annoys me now. I continually remind myself that I shouldn’t be that impatient. But then the thinker in me kicks in and analyzes. So far, I’ve hypothesized that my newfound impatience is a product of technology. And so, I’ve began to despise technology bit by bit. (Never mind I’m writing this article via a Windows XP-ed PC.) Stress comes in handy, doesn’t it? It’s so so destined to kill me someday. Haha.
Depression is a daughter of stress. A more powerful daughter at that. It’s easy. We begin to worry when things don’t go our way. We get sick. It’s either we get physically sick or emotionally sick, or worse, both. Then we become more worried. We try to take a break---go on a vacation perhaps---but then we can’t FULLY relax because office/school/relationship/financial stress will haunt us way before we become aware of it. It’s like Spiderman’s black revenge-suit. It sticks to us when we least like it. It sticks to us even when we try to pull ourselves away from it.
And so we pull ourselves away from it.
Let’s talk about Davao City. I see Davao City as an implicit anti-stress zone. There is a growing coffee shop culture in the city. Salons are paces away from each other. Spa shops got cheaper and cheaper because of tight competition. All with the intention of “making you feel good”, which is, merely a euphemism of “to forget for awhile of your goddamned life”.
In this entry, I’ll use the coffee shop method as an example because it caters to both sexes majorly. Ironically, having coffee in the coziest coffee shops doesn’t come cheap. A cup of ordinary brewed coffee starts at P65. But if you want the yummier ones, be prepared to dish out around P150. The price itself is stressing for the mass Juan de la Cruz. I mean, imagine having this fixation every single day. Enough to feed a family.
Speaking of family, one peaceful night, I saw my dad wearing a black crystal bracelet which didn’t look that good on his skin tone. I asked him where he got it. I said it was hideous. He laughed and said he bought it for P700 because the crystal was believed to “sip in” stress. Some Chinese thing. I rolled my eyes on my once-practical dad who refuses to buy a third pair of shoes because he thinks they’re unnecessary. How stressing!
This morning though, I could just use that bracelet because I was scholastically coerced to finish two papers in two hours. I became caffeine dependent since the beginning of my junior year. I actually forget lunch (this is so not me). It’s obvious I am currently wearing Spidey’s black suit (if you know what I mean).
I’m keeping my fingers crossed about surviving til next sem.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
The Archives of General Medicine say coffee drinkers have sex more frequently and enjoy it more than non-coffee drinkers. (So I drink tea. What does that mean for me? Is it the caffeine or something else in the java? Food for thought, friends.)
A sperm whale's testes weigh in at a bouncing 25 lbs each, roughly the same size as a bulldog. (Super happy that I'm not a girl sperm whale. Think about those things coming at ya. Scary!)
The first automatic vibrator was invented in 1869. It ran on boiling water and was steam powered. (Can you imagine getting this thing going? It sounds like a locomotive, where a couple of people had to shovel the coal to keep the vibrator on. Ay yi yi...we've come a long way, baby!)
The orgasm was first called Hysterical Paroxysm. (Uh, okay. At least it's easier to pronounce. Haha.)
Napadaan lang ako sa "Who knew?" part ng isang woman's magazine. And I felt like sharing these amazing stuff.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Out eight-hour stress, come part-time/freelance. The yuppies just got more versatile. Latest surveys from all over Asia say that fresh grads---and err, fresh job-seekers--- prefer having one or two part time jobs or do freelance than be stuck in the office for eight hours straight. They say they want their day to become less tedious, have a more diverse network and make their schedule more dynamic. Clever isn’t it? One can have brunch dates, lunch dates and mid-afternoon munch dates.
Out monthly salon trips, come home hair treatments. In a world where everybody is in a hurry(this world is called college), the average human being who usually had monthly hot oil/hair spa at her trusted salon would actually opt for home treatments. It is easier, cheaper, faster and there’s no need to dress up. (You can even do it naked.) You just have to apply the cream in her hair evenly, massage your scalp for awhile, wrap it up in a shower cap, wait for 20-30 minutes and rinse with water. Even foot spa and hair relaxing can be done at home. Sweet home.
Out Sheldon, come fast-food fiction. Cosmopolitan books, chick lit and Youngblood have skyscraper sales during the past three years. Blogospheres have more participants. Thing is, people nowadays may still want to be entertained by reading, but you know, their business (read as busy-ness) forces them to read quicker stories. Albeit Literature remaining sweet, it just keeps getting shorter.
Out Atkins, come Three-hour diet. The Chair of Harvard's nutrition department went on record before a 1973 U.S. Senate Select Committee investigating fad diets: "The Atkins Diet is nonsense... Any book that recommends unlimited amounts of meat, butter, and eggs, as this one does, in my opinion is dangerous. The author who makes the suggestion is guilty of malpractice." The Atkins diet is also known as the nightmare diet---especially to the rice-loving Filipino. You’ll likely be facing a self-inflicted psy-war before you get to your dining table. The Three-hour diet on the other hand, makes you lose weight by following time intervals. Just eat one hour after you wake up, then have a light snack after three hours. Have lunch after three hours, have another light snack after three hours then dinner after another three hours. Eat nothing after dinner. Drink water whenever you want to eat, when you’re not supposed to eat---especially during the after-dinner time. Voila! You’ll lose inches after a week. That’s the 3Hour diet. Easy, quick and cool. Most importantly, you can still eat WHATEVER you want.
Darwin was right. There had been evolution. Coz there still is.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
1. I love the smell of paper. I smell receipts, quiz papers, newspapers, flyers, even cartolina! I dunno why, i really really love the smell of papers. My friends' eyes roll everytime i sniff every kind of paper that passes my hands. I especially love the smell of old books, newspaper and newly photocopied paper.
2. I cry easily because of a song, or a poem, or a TV commercial. But it's hard to cry in real life. Like, you know, if my current squeeze and I are on a fight or if my mom scolds me. Top tearjerkers: That's Why You Go by Michael Learns to Rock, Neruda poetry and some McDo commercials.
3. I read books halfway, then I forget about them, then read another book, then after a while I remember that I have a "unfinished" book so I go back to reading it again, albeit dizzy trying to recall the plot. Sometimes, I just read the whole book AGAIN.
4. I eat at least four cups of rice a day to maintain my weight. If I eat less than that for one straight week, I'd become Nicole Richie. My metabolism is so promiscuous.
5. I can't write straight news. I just can't. I've been writing feature essays since high school and lots and lots of poetry. Plus I have no plans of practicing. How the hell can I write straight news?! One time, I did a creative twist on my business paper, I was "scolded" in class. Tsk tsk.
6. My first dream was to become an astronaut. Or an astronomer. When I still didn't care whether I wore a panty or not, I'd coerce my parents to buy me books about space and heavenly bodies. My ninong---my lovable ninong---whom I haven't heard from for more than ten years thought that I still want to be an astronomer and last year he gave me a huge astronomical telescope. Won.der.ful!
7. I love tearing the skin off the sides of my fingers. It's a habit. An old habit. You know what they say about old habits. *sigh* Sometimes, they bleed. Which brings me to my next weirdness.
8. I love the taste of blood. I have my own share of blood everyday. I get it via my tooth. Hehehe. It's true, I love the taste of it. It has this fruity-salty taste and playful-salty smell which tickles a part of me.
9. I can be addicted to peppermint tea. I had been addicted to this. And I can go back to being addicted with it again. Especially now that I've found out that drinking peppermint tea will make your *bodily* juice smell like mint. *wink*
10. I'm in love with indie music. I dunno if this is really weird. I know we have preferences and this is simply mine. Mine. All mine. I'm falling for Meg and Dia and Feist.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
It’s fascinating to know that you know what people think they know without them knowing that you know that they don’t know what they think you don’t know.
And the preceding paragraph spells exactly the reason why I am smiling like a drunken hyena right now.
Gestalt psychology talks about people perceiving things as whole units. That when we see a “square” with broken lines, we would instinctively fill in the broken parts for it to become a square. It is also the reason why dancers SHOULD have a costume, why when we look at corridors we see the people passing by as people-passing-by and not as different individuals off to different ways. Maybe it’s because looking at people is easier if you look at them as one group. I mean, we only have two eyes, duh. Oh-kay. Enough of the char. It’s just like gossip. When somebody hears something so juicy but quite incomplete, s/he would fill it in and draw conclusions from it. Then voila! You got a whole pitcher of brand-spanking-new slander. It’s WHOLE now. Of course, they wouldn’t want an incomplete thing to gossip about. They wouldn’t want to appear in-credible! Amusing. They should win Palanca. *grunts*
Anyway. I am currently in the stage of falling in love with my course(BA Mktg). Before, I used to hammer myself with thoughts about shifting, or about graduating as soon as possible and work, or about just quitting school and work full time on my previous employer. I especially needed lots and lots of vodka when I took my first look on my print out. I will have 6 units of Financial Management. The risk-return-stock-price-fluctuation thingy. Grr. It even involves formulas which I think were made before there was the Ten Commandments. Andami! My gosh!
And one more thing, I really can’t get along with the calculator. Everytime I face it (especially for Finance), love isn’t an option. I can’t think of any positive word, my brain cells just rally and I feel like stabbing myself with a brass protractor.
But now, I’m learning to love it, you know, embracing my calculator to sleep…participating in the two-hour-thrice-a-week class…stroking my scalp with the fact that this hell is only gonna be for five months. (Yes, honey, I’m not failing again. I’ve slapped myself a million times. Some people also helped in the slapping. Haha.)
Syangapala, I have this immediate need to gain mass and have longer hair. So help me Goddess.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Saturday, June 16, 2007
2. They join every club in school. Or in the city.
3. They never miss a party.
4. They like giving their number, and taking other people's numbers.
5. They like wine.
6. They actually pray for a boy/girl friend.
7. They stare at sweet lovers in public places. Then their eyes turn into jade.
8. They are usually bitter when it comes to talking about relationships...or overly idealistic.
9. They usually go out alone, and they dress up pretty extravagantly.
10. They ask their friends to find them a prospect.
11. Their friendster is like a crowded online zoo. And usually full of people of the opposite sex(or, in the case of homos, the same sex).
I'm getting pissed seeing a lot of them lately. Pero bahala sila. Hahaha.
I resigned. Nasagasaan kasi ng major ko ang aking office time. Ayun, i have no other choice but to quit the job. It sucks big time coz i need the money for my debate tourneys. Oh well. When bad things happen to good(?) people...
Monday, June 11, 2007
We are all complete on our own. We don’t need to become a portion of a pair. If we feel we need somebody to complete us, then it assumes we are incomplete. That in itself is a problem. Feeling inadequate.
I believe that one of the main reasons why everybody wants to end up with somebody is that everybody wants a home. You know, to have somewhere to always run to when everything is gone. A home which has the picture of a loving husband, a pretty little wife who can cook well and adorable kids. And sure, I’d still want a home. I’d still want kids. But I can do so without a husband. I can have sex without kids and kids without sex.
Where does love take its place now? A person is all well capable of loving, and loving another individual. I do not deny this, because I loved and I am in love. Sometimes it’s about having the right person at the right place and at the right time. Sometimes it’s about status. Sometimes it’s about connections. We don’t really know, but we’ve gotta make it happen. Love is a choice, but being in love is not. It just haunts you and follows you and intoxicates you. And you'll like it that way.
So, to answer the question, (hehehe nagsermon pa!) I do not believe in destiny. It’s just an excuse in letting things happen instead of MAKING them happen. Destiny is the usual “scapegoat” when we don’t fully understand what happens AT THE BEGINNING AND AT THE END. But in between, it is all up to us…and what's "in between" is what actually counts the most. :)
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
“I loved him. I sure did. I cared for him a lot. I didn’t like seeing him hurt. I was glad when he was, I supported him, I tried to become a helper in fulfilling his dreams. We’d talk till 2, laugh when we’re together and sure spent a lot of time together. I nurtured his talents. I encouraged him to become better. I liked seeing him better. It fills in a certain empty canister within me. It feels good. Almost motherly. But no, I wasn’t in love with him. I never wanted to kiss him. I never envisioned being his wife. I never, ever felt crazy, deranged, intoxicated. He was never in my dreams. So much more in my daydreams. I loved him. I tried so much not to hurt him. I loved him, I simply wasn’t IN LOVE with him…”
“I’m in love with him. Because I like what I see and I’m seeing a lot of them. My toes curl with every sweet word that he utters, my sighs are countless, my knees wobble. He lives a different life, and when he talks about the girls he meets, I get jealous easily. Really easily. And what’s dangerous? I get REALLY jealous. I’d be like, crazy, flying, buzzing..it feels like a roller coaster ride which I never wanted to end. When he kisses me my anatomy gets mixed up. My brain cells rally. My pheromones overflow. I loooove looking into his eyes. It’s like drowning into them. Problem? I DON’T LOVE HIM. It doesn’t go beyond the toffee cotton candy.”
Compliments to the voices in my head.
I’ve experienced being in love with a person but loving another. I’ve experienced loving a person and being in love with him too. Both had some level of easiness. And confusion.
Now playing: Angel (Duet) by Sarah Mclachlan and Josh Groban.
I personally like the simplicity of this song. Their voices blended well. I loved loved loved the part where they sang together. Sometimes Josh’s voice takes the driver’s seat, sometimes Sarah’s voice does it. It makes me THINK of dying at peace. Think lang. Think LANG.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
"Science and technology will teach us how to make a living; but only arts and literature will teach us how to LIVE."
Underneath my pillow
Because i like the way
It feels like
You're still breathing
At the back of my neck
Like the way
You scribble your poems
On my frail arm
Poetry is a different language. Altogether a different one. It has implicit rules, weird kinds of freedom and tasty colors.
When somebody asks you, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" and you answer " I want to be a poet", they will either laugh at you, look at you sympathetically and tell you to get a "more secure" job or ask you "Aside from that...?"
(Should i let you see me smirk?)
I'm not complaining. I mean, i have been one of those pessimists/"realists" before. But I realized that i SHOULD teach myself how to LIVE. And fully LIVE.
I can't afford to be confined with papers and lunch meetings and iMacs. Deadlines, boss liaisons and gasoline. Of SMS deals, paychecks and rebonded hair.
I want to write. I like its mystery. I like its energy. I'm obsessed with it---whatever it exactly is---throbbing inside me...like a baby of five months.
Go find me a rich husband. Because I'll just write... :)
Monday, May 14, 2007
Debunked Relationship Patterns
1. When you’re going steady, be sure it’s for love. Not necessarily. Sometimes, you agree to go steady because you wanna try if you can work things out. You are providing avenues for love to kick in---as evidenced by dating and lots of let’s-hang-out time. When you were still going out exclusively(as this is the prelude of “going steady”) you enjoy being so much with each other. But then again, there are a lot of couples out there who aren’t so sure of themselves being committed. The fact that both of you have agreed to go steady, well, that’s a good thing. But don’t fret if your partner does not tell you “I love you” just yet. Maybe s/he is still waiting for the perfect moment(if there is) or that s/he simply does not love you.
2. You can’t flirt if you’re already committed. Of course you still can! Just make sure it doesn’t go overboard (e.g. steamy liaisons). Remember that we, humans, are social beings. Sometimes a little flirting doesn’t hurt. But be honest to your partner also. You know when your flirting is harmless or if it’s bound to destroy trust. How? Ask yourself if you flirt for a “goal”. For example, you are flirting with your boyfriend’s friend because he’s sexy and you want to sleep with him. You even fantasize about having him as a boyfriend someday. See? You are even anticipating a break-up. That’s what overboard means.
3. Always ask permission. Respect your partner. You don’t really have to. A partnership is composed of two people (in the context of love & romance). Two different people. Two people who live two different lives, whose fates just met somewhere convenient and they both liked it that way. Of course you must inform your partner once in a while about what you are doing but you don’t have to tell him/her everything. And you can always say it afterwards. Just make sure it’s the truth.
4. Your virginity is the best gift you could give to your husband(/wife). Did you know that “sexual incompatibility” can be grounds for divorce? Well, regardless of whether you’ll be thanking me for that bit of knowledge or roll your eyes because you’ve read it before, it does not change the fact that for 90% of the people, sex is an eventuality. But it’s also not a requisite for marriage or a relationship. Oh, you know. You do it when you feel like...doing it, right? *wink*
5. When a relationship ends, both parties always have a share of the blame. It’s not like it’s pizza. Blame is so big a word that you have to say it in your most tactful way so as not to hurt people. But we have to accept the fact that shit happens, even to the most righteous ones. What if you’ve done everything for your partner but still he wanted something more? Different? Something new? Most couples and most friends-slash-commentators of the couples always say that both parties can always do something to save a relationship. But the real deal is that, sometimes, one of them is just too weak that the other cannot suffice. Then blame is supposed to be laid to someone. They share it. Or, people tell them to share it. Because we all know it would hurt less.
All is fair in love and war. But who wants war? Let’s just love. We can NOT force it. It inherently fills all of us. The question is, to whom would you spend most of it to?
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
It’s amazing how coffee has become the latest "in" thing right now. Some only just went with the flow... some just wanted to also be "in" even if they didn't want coffee in the first place.
Making tambay in a famous---and expensive--- coffee shop (figaro, bo’s, basti’s, blugre, etc) has now become more of a social status symbol rather than just closing business deals or catching up with friends(which…err..can be done at some other places).
"Coffee" has also become the "ideal first date". This is because "coffee" is usually coupled with a lot of talk time and of course, pasta/pastry on the side. I think this is one of the easiest ways to assess whether your date is a high-maintenance one or not. It is also useful that the lighting in coffeeshops are a little dimmer than the usual fluorescent bulb. This actually makes your date look better(uh-huh). Dilated pupils, a little glow on the skin and a little shimmer on the hair. :) Neat. Slick neat.
The "pwede na" coffee shop usually has:
*coffee prices starting at P35/mug
*a wide range of beverage choices (coffee, shakes, tea, chocolate, even beer)
*cakes as tempting as one of the shop's waiters
*at least one couch
*a smoking and non smoking area
*mirrors or glass walls (everybody suddenly wants to be SEEN)
I remembered the days when my father still was a photographer at the city hall and "kape tayo?" just meant drinking 3in1 at Kusina Dabaw. Now, my dad, a senior manager, still says "kape tayo?", but when he tells me that, my mind suddenly paints the picture of Basti's brew
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
|You Are 4% Shy|
You aren't shy at all, in fact, you're probably quite outgoing.
You are comfortable in almost any social situation, no matter how difficult.
|You Are Confident Sexy|
You're one sexy chica, and you know it.
You've got the confidence to strut your stuff...
And approach any man who happens to catch your eye.
You may make a guys run away, but the true men will appreciate your moxie.
Oh well. *weird, big, sinister grin on the face*
I was once shy. I refused to raise my hand at class because even if i knew the answer, or even if i have something very relevant to say, i just can't. i simply can't.
I was once shy. My classmates used to tease me, and everytime the climax happens, i turn into Philippine Flag during times of war.
I was once shy. My knees would shake at the thought of saying "Hello my name is Karla" every first day of class.
I was once shy. That i refused to have my hair cut at salons just because. I ended up asking my dad to cut it so i suffered about a decade and two years of straight cut hair at whatever length i felt would look "best".
My shyness began to take a new form when i reached high school. I learned that people actually talk in front. And it happens a lot in high school. It funny coz i was really really talkative during my elementary years...teachers wouldn't know what seating arrangement would be best for me because i was really talkative. But I only talked to my seatmate/s. And that time, whoever my seatmate was, is my best friend.
I started being less shy when i found real friends. I mean, stable friends. The ones whom you have lunch with everyday and have shopping with every Saturday. The ones who will love you the first time you smelled arcade and the last time you talked about boys(did i say boys? okay, there is no last). I realized that the reason why i was shy before was the fear that nobody would care about what i will say. Why? Because I was sure not all of them cared for me. Hell, I didn't even have any stable friends.
My stable friends were my safety nets. They affirmed me and reaffirmed me. God, I love them. Since then, I wasn't shy anymore. I volunteer for a lot of stuff. In fact, I've become really---how you say?---socially active. I write for papers, I love class reporting, I debate in public, campaign for a politician and even flirt. And take note, this flirting takes off at five(six maybe?) different levels. Hehe. I kid. Bam's gonna arrest me for this. Of course, I act sensibly still. I don't wanna jeopardize my name---or the lack thereof, which inspires me to create one.
The survey's above? I say they're pretty accurate. :)
Thursday, April 26, 2007
*GETTING AWAY FROM IT ALL: Phil Eagle(then again). Sto Niño Shrine in Shrine Hills Matina. Having dinner/beer/coffee while listening to piano and breathing in the city's incandescent lights? Jack's ridge is the place to be. and oh. speaking of getting away from it all...try my beau's place. I mean, get lost. ;)
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Two hours later Cho killed 30 others, plus himself, at the Norris Hall complex across campus.
Authorities have not yet linked the 23-year-old to any of those he killed.
Police say the same gun was used at both locations but have not definitely proved that Cho was at West Ambler Johnston at the time of the shootings there.
The complaints by students against Cho were made in November and December 2005, around the time Cho's English teachers raised concerns over his writing and general behaviour.
In the aftermath of the shootings, teachers and fellow students have spoken of Cho's extreme moods, violent writings and unpredictable behaviour(this included stalking women, arson, making morbid films and his vehement hatred for the rich).
Follow this link for the VT shooting spree (during rescue and mourning) http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/5114929/?GT1=9246
Isn’t it fearful, how, in the blink of an eye, one deranged person could turn a happy place into a ghost town?
Isn’t it fearful, how, in the blink of an eye, your daughter's things will be the only ones that shall be brought home?
Isn’t it fearful how unsure we are of the people we live with, people we talk to and even with people we care about..?
The pictures in the link above made me pour. I cried. Suddenly elements of sadness began to clothe me; and envelope me in mixed fear, regret and solitary lament.
I asked myself. Had I been there, would I have called the police? Or would I be as shocked as most of the victims and won’t be able to think right? Had I been there, would I even try to save my classmates? How should I care for the gunman? What shall I tell him? Will I cry? Will I pray? Will I....survive?
This is an opportunity to reflect on the incident and realize how lucky we are to be here, in front of the monitor, reading a blog entry of someone whom we are not sure to still be seeing tomorrow.
I fear. Although I do not want to. And I cry some more..
And to Cho and to all the victims, I bleed with you.
Friday, April 6, 2007
The kiss that would change my world
Seep through all of me
The kiss that would
Make my soul wander a bit
Make my heart lose itself a bit
Then bring me together again
As is I was whole
From the start.
Teach me how to hold
The hand that would save me
The arms that would catch me
Even when I drew them away
Teach me how to sleep
With no worries of tomorrow
With no sadness of yesterday
And no uncertainties of the present
Teach me to dream as if
The universe is mine
When I have you close
I could conquer time,
And solitude… and hurt…
When together we shine.
Teach me how to open my eyes
To see and not just look
To you as an open book
To see the eyes that encourages me
To be the one I’ve dreamt to be
Teach me to have faith
To believe in things I don’t see
To trust in precious treasures
Like the waters that never leave the sea
Like the wind that keeps the earth company
Especially with things that last
Like hearts as you
And hearts as me
Hearts as fast.
When all of these are done
I will be the only one
Who’s been taught too much
Of holding on,
And of loving..
Then maybe you can
Teach me how to die
To die with no regrets
To die knowing that with you,
I have loved the best.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
I’ve written. I’ve published.
I’ve played. I’ve competed.
I’ve argued. I’ve debated.
I’ve contended. I’ve won.
Yes, I find meaning in the things I do. But I never felt I was doing so much for myself and for the world until I started to teach.
It began in 2003, when it was summer and I had nothing to do. School vacation in Cebu was relatively warm and boring (unless you have a boyfriend who is hot and lives next door). I scoured for stuff to do to at least upgrade my so-called social life.
There is this we call “Flores de Mayo”, a May affair in the Philippines which refers to a Catholic catechism and a patterned prayer to be done every single day of May. It is called such because the highlight of every meeting is the offering of flowers to the Virgin Mary. I figured that catechism was pretty easy to teach so I signed up to become a volunteer teacher. Fortunately, I got accepted and everybody welcomed me with million watt smiles.
It included a pinch of sacrifice, since I’d have to give up siesta everyday. But it was rewarding. You see, even before I enter the chapel, when the kids see me coming, they’d wave with the flowers in their hand and call my name as if we’d never seen each other for years. I often blush at such implicit flattery…but I never felt closer to God.
I learned to touch God in the lives of those kids. Some were secretly diabetic, some were verbally abused…and some were just hungry for companionship. They hug me and call me “ate” as if I’m their own. They invite me to dinner with their family. Sometimes, my work even extends as far as being their nanny when they play in the court (near the chapel).
Since then, teaching has become a part of me. And I’ve cherished the aforementioned angst of nostalgia just yesterday, when I got accepted at ISETS(I Speak English Tutorial Services).
Basically, what I do in ISETS is tutor Korean students English online. At first I thought it would be hard. I never had experience in formal teaching. I had five trial classes yesterday. Yes, five in a row, with only five minutes break after each class. Students were pretty good. I’ve learned that constant giving of compliments always will motivate them to do better. I guess the major difference between classroom teaching and one-on-one tutorials is that the student-teacher relationship of the latter is more intimate.
English has lately been part of the Korean curriculum so they have to take “extra effort” in learning the language. And so, being an “extra ingredient”, I have to make my student relate more to our lessons so they would stick to his/her mind firmer than what is taught in the classroom. I share some Filipino experiences. I make them share relevant Korean ones too. I pay close attention to what they say. I ask how their friends are. I ask how his/her health is. I love it. We’re just like peers. I’ve realized that what I teach will always be a part of them. I, too, am a part of them. So I strive to be a significant one.
I might never know how much difference I can give to the world. I might never know how many more lives I’d be given the chance to touch. All I know is that I can’t hide this certain pride that I feel every time my students feel thankful to learn something good from me…especially when their eyes shine like pristine candles by the chapel door.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
They’re the kind that would cry upon your wounded toes just so they could get salt on your wound.
It’s not easy to spot these kinds of people though. Oftentimes they take the guise of a caring friend. She’ll give you pieces of advice you don’t even need and make you think that you need them. She’s one of the world’s best liars. She is constantly curious about what’s been happening in your life. You think she cares, but all she really thinks about was how to make your life more miserable. But you can’t provide a reason why, so you tell yourself it’s nothing. That she really has no reason to be mean to you. You shun the idea and wonder.
Envy---a toxic word. You aced the Calculus exam and got a Chad Murray-clone for a boyfriend and her eyes are austerely green. Obviously, in her own shallow world, you are on top. So instead of minding her own business and try to reach your level, she finds a heaven-sent alternative: to bring you down. She’ll say things that’d make you doubt your boyfriend’s honesty and she’ll constantly emphasize your flaws so you would feel bad about yourself.
Sometimes though, she’s just got nothin’ to do. She just wants to feel better about her bitter self. She wants to show you she’s smarter and prettier and richer and whatever-er. THIS is the time that she’d appear dumb.
Truth is, after you realize what’s been happening, there are numerous times that you’d wanna rebut her with---of course--- the truth. But you take a minute-look and you find out that she’s not really annoying, she’s just…PITIFUL. And you can’t bring yourself to stoop to her level because she’s PITIFUL. You begin to understand the things she does because you PITY her. You’ll realize then that there are better things to do than worry about the negativity she sprinkles on you.
Come tomorrow, she’ll grow paranoid wondering why you are not doing anything.
And she grows furious.
But there you are, pretty heroine. Smiling. :)
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Some say love it is a river
That drowns the tender reed
Some say love it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed
Some say love it is a hunger
An endless aching need
I say love it is a flower
And you it's only seed
It's the heart afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance
It's the dream afraid of waking that never takes the chance
It's the one who won't be taken
Who cannot seem to give
And the soul afraid of dying that never learns to live
When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong
Just remember in the winter far beneath the bitter snows
Lies the seed
That with the sun's love
In the spring
Becomes the rose
Beneath us is a rose. A love so precious, so hidden, so sacred.
Everybody has the capacity to love. Love is an innate gift from above.
When we learn to care so deeply about a person, we tend to ask ourselves:
where does all this love come from? And so we reach to a realization that
this love must come from something supreme, something beyond ourselves.
When we love, we invoke the "thing" that is beyond our human selves.
This is precisely why when we love, we feel no limits. We are greater
than the usual self we know. Sometimes, we don't even know ourselves
anymore. Or the extent that we can be our selves.
When it dawns upon us that it probably took us a long time to realize
that we actually love, even if it is innate, it only shows that there
has been no impetus for us to do so. When a 'significant other' arrives,
it awakens the budding rose within us. Is it our prerogative to make the
rose bloom or not? I say that the rose will bloom whether you like it
or not. Because you will become a better person when you love. You become
more human. Man's capacity to love is non-questionable just as faith---the
state of believing in something you cannot prove to be true.
The reason why we interpret love in many different ways is simple---
it arrives to us as a surprise. Things will creep out of our mouth.
Things will contaminate our minds. Things shine in our eyes.
We define it in the context that it arrives to us. That is why we
can connect it even to the most absurd things. From peeing to mucus
to lice to a cake. Love is a mystery.
I guess love can never be thoroughly explained...the same way that
faith will ever be defined. All I know is that when I love, the best
in me comes out.
And so I love. Therefore, I twinkle.
Monday, March 19, 2007
You are the one who does not copy during exams. You’re too proud to cheat and too killjoy not to let us cheat. You throw your trash responsibly. You are the one who won’t smoke pot. You are the one who drinks but does not get drunk. You don’t play online games. You love the library. But you spend nights at the club also. You flirt averagely. And I adore your words. It’s just that we really find you weird. You do it cleanly, you know? You smile like you don’t have a 32-unit schedule. Damn you.
We say you’re a big joke, because you said you never cheated---yes, even during homework. We say you have so much pride. It will eat you up someday. You say it’s not just all about pride. It’s about integrity. We insist it’s pride. You look down, shake your head, and smile. Damn you.
I went home immediately that day. I asked Encarta for the meaning of the word “Integrity”. I’ve been seeing a lot of it around school so I’d better know its meaning or feel dumb. Encarta says integrity is a possession of firm principles. Now that definition was predictable. What struck me was the second definition: completeness, wholeness. It means that one can never be complete without integrity.
It is apparent in society that even when integrity is actually subjective, we have a standard for a person whom we call “the one with integrity” or in our dialect, “may integridad” that all of us will meet at some point when judging that person. We say that you have actually passed that standard. Though sometimes we veil you with snickers and sarcasm, a part of us wish to be just like you.
It’s nice to think that you are actually someone we will remember. The one whom we condemned because everybody else is doing “it” while you’re not. I know it’s a form of education in the guise of mocking..but you tell us to always be “Maligdong”. More often than not, you receive different versions of the infamous smirk.
But yes, we still want to be like you. You were great in your own way and you made us think that we, too, can be great. You encouraged us to be honest and neat and punctual(oh yeah). Sometimes we are really too lazy to study or too “cool” to be “righteous” but we realized that it was more than being just righteous, because these things you do, you do it for yourself. Nobody knows the reason, yes, not even you. Still, integrity is the highlight.
And oh, I loved the quote stitched on your bag. It says, “See, in this world, it’s not enough to BE the difference; you too, have to MAKE THE difference.”
-- This is for all Ateneans who gave justice to the Maligdong tag. And for everyone else, who never failed to make a difference. Those who return large amounts of money left in their taxis, those who help the police run after the snatcher, those who lent their pails to help extinguish their ignited neighbor's house, those who teach kids for free and a lot more. These kinds of people are little light bulbs of hope which shed positive light on our country's name.
A toast. For you, for me, for us all.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Sure, it's easy to say that these people are not given chances for proper employment but if we assume that is true, we ask the question: are ALL of these people unemployed? Of course not. In fact, 86% of those who join reality game(of luck) shows have jobs/small businesses but would just go and join Wowowee because it's easy money.
The truth is, reality game shows are being advertised by media as something that works for the good of the masses. They say that these RGS(Reality Game Shows) operate in the pursuit of charity, generosity and bayanihan. Sure, the intention is good---they want to help the less fortunate. But we question, is the process correct?
What I will actually be discussing in this essay is how RGS provide more harm than good. That though it is masked with smiles and upbeat songs, it is actually an agent of social deterioration.
The reason why people join contests in RGS is that they are poor. The reason why they are poor is mainly of lack of self-sufficiency. They can NOT work because there are other means to acquire money. This is the kind of mindset that these RGS paint in Juan's mind that he would prefer lining up for easy money rather than work. The message that it sends to society is that, "It's OK to be poor, you will be provided money anyway". If you ask any media person why the Wowowee stampede happened, it's because this wrong mindset of easy money has contaminated the masses gravely! People now think that game shows are the answers to poverty. This is so not true. The media is not the right proponent to answering poverty. We have social welfare centers that even help housewives acquire livelihood skills necessary for little capitalization. Those livelihood programs teach the people to become self-sufficient. Let's juxtapose it to the Wowowee model, where one is given a sari-sari store showcase/jeepney/tricycle and it ends there. They do not even teach you about proper financial management. The capital is given to the winning Juan one-time. It shuns the idea of a good education for a better future and hard work to get to the top, which is what really happens in the real common world. This model becomes detrimental to the winning Juan because it does not teach him to be self-sufficient and perhaps that is why he is widely known to be lazy.
The next thing that we should always remember is that RGS are capitalist in nature. They continue to be aired in TV because they have sponsors. They earn from these sponsors. The RGS would want more sponsors so they must keep their ratings high. Although they claim that they "help" the poor, how do they give the money? See, before Willie Revillame gives Juan the "honorarium", he makes him cry and talk about his forlorn life in the TV. This is to induce pity among the audience, to ensure their support for a longer time. Again, this is for the pursuit of a higher rating. Another way of money-giving is that they get the funny-looking people from the audience and make them dance/sing in front of the camera. The hosts make sure that these people are really funny looking so that the audience(both in and out the studio) are well-entertained. They get those who have funny teeth, those who are so fat, those who are physically incapacitated, very old, those who talk funny and even the boisterous gay men who like dancing in front of the camera. What these RGS do not even care about is that they actually bring about more discrimination from the people because they kind of pinpoint those who are very vulnerable to discrimination. These discriminated people, on the other hand, are forced to humiliate themselves in public because they will be given money afterwards.
Let us not also forget that the RGS also has these half naked women dancing for "entertainment". A lot of foreigners even throw their money at these half naked women as if they're inside a strip bar. In this sense, the RGS becomes anti-feminist because it commodifies women. People can dance and entertain without having to do it with skimpy clothing! Why does it have to be a requisite? This is also present in Eat Bulaga. And get this, the dancers there have skimpier clothing. Again, people think IT'S OKAY. Why? Because there is money, because it will go to the poor.
At face value, Wowowee is very good. You see the people pitching in money to help other people. You see the helped ones crying for joy and hugging the host. What is another wrong thing is that the helped ones give the host too much credit. They sometimes treat him as if he is God. They support him. They call themselves his "fans". The host, in return, abuses the credit he gets and sometimes uses the show for his self-interest. Yes, I'm talking about Willie defending himself against the case of physical abuse filed by his wife. He uses the show to gain public sympathy. One cannot directly conclude that he is such a righteous man just because he is the non-abstract representation of helping the poor. He is paid to do his job. Zip. Nada.
You are probably one of Wowowee's patronizers. What I'm trying to say is that you open to eyes to what implicit harm it does to society. Then ask yourself, do you want a community that depends on easy money? One that degrades women? One that wears a mask of charity but operates on massive capitalization?
However, if you agree that Willie is not the modern-day prophet, if you hate seeing commodified half naked women, if you continue to study well because there's more to life than Wowowee, and lastly, if you believe reality shows are anything but, then you and I might have coffee sometime.
Friday, March 2, 2007
I missed the male look. I missed home. In fact, I missed a lot…especially in Calculus. When I got back to class, I was slapped by the fact that I missed two precious sessions and two seat works. When I asked our substitute teacher(unfortunately, it’s Mr. Callo) if I could salvage my grade via a consultation during activity period, he said he’s too busy and that even if I have an excuse letter from the OSA, there are no excuses in his class. I just wanted a make-up session because, sincerely, I want to pass. Well, needless to say, I still have the right to such consultation periods. Isn’t that part of the tuition fee I paid for even before the classes began???! I mean, if he can’t carry the responsibility that is supposed to be embodied by our supposed teacher, then he mustn’t have accepted the offer in the first place!
*blows hair up*
Haha. I’m just glad the MPDC’s over. The next day after I arrived here I went to the salon had my hair cut, and had my nails painted. I just wanna legitimize my happiness. I want to see something not as abstract as the smiles I keep in my pocket.
The 15th MPDC was such an eye-opener. AdDU did not win the title. No team even got into the finals. AdZU brought home the bacon after beating MSU in the finals. Actually the most practiced team was AdDU B, and the other team ups were almost contingent upon who arrives before round 1 the next day. To Kit and James, I love our team so much! I never thought we would go as far as the semis, given the fact that your last debates were the during the last mpdc pa. J The Business-Humanities-Social Science team-up is purrfect! (We got the other teams purring for mercy! hahaha) Congrats Henry, Ems and Alzo! I hope to see you in the next mpdc! Haha we never met during the rounds prior to the finals…and that’s why you got into the finals! Hehehe! Joke lang!
Whew! I missed home. I missed school too. I have a new addiction. It’s this Mudslide shake sold for P19 at the foodcourt. I consume around two to three of it a day! Hahaha! The chocolate is ethereal. I believe that everytime a serving is made my guardian angel would run away from me, go directly to heaven and beg God to exchange Mana for it! :)
And, by the power vested upon me, I now declare that I am officially dating. :)
Sunday, February 18, 2007
There is, at least, an international arbitrary standard for what’s cute. Think Tweety Bird. He’s cute. The wide eyes, the little nose and slightly pouty lips(yeah, Tweety has a beak, but we’re HUMANS). These features emanate the image of a baby. Think baby. Yeah. When we conjure the image of a baby, our brain gets confused that it would actually think that what we are seeing is a baby. Then, it would release hormones, nurturing, parental hormones, which makes you feel a sense of “responsibility” for the cute person. Then you would think like, “I wanna take care of her”. Then you fall in love. Or THINK you are in love.
When we are single, we try hard to reaffirm ourselves. We tell ourselves that we are great people and that there is nothing wrong with us. This is to counter what the society thinks---unfortunately, sometimes, they think one is inferior just because s/he is single as compared to those who are officially involved. And so we do a lot of extra things. We might engage in a new hobby, or sport, or just a new interest. In our hope of getting “attached”, we tend to advertise ourselves in the world. What we fail to see though, is that the more we become good at whatever we are doing, the more we become “unreachable’. This is based on the Theory of Reachability. The theory assumes that all pretty girls(yes, girls, since they are the one who get courted in the first place) have suitors. And we define “unreachable” as the girls who are smart, fun, have a lot of extra-curricular activities…those who are tagged as intimidating by the opposite sex. What I say is that the more the girl becomes reachable, the more chances of guys flocking on her. Of course, given the fact that a male’s pride is very fragile, one wouldn’t risk his pride—or self esteem at least--- to someone who is not likely to be “his” anyway. But still, there would be a handful that would really go for the girl no matter how unreachable she may be. And they’re the worthy ones.
When we know we are physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually beautiful, we tend to regard ourselves as “The Best”. And so we search for a potential partner, who has the qualities of The Best. In short, we search for The Best. We spend relentless efforts to finally find The Best, that when we see a prospect, we get to know him/her, realize that s/he is not enough, then drop him/her. We proceed to the next. In this continuous cycle of no-s/he’s-not-good-enough-for-me, we end up with nothing. Why? Because The Best doesn’t really exist.
I’m officially breaking up with lj and start anew with blogspot. Bam says it’s better here coz links are easily accessible.
*picks up confetti and starts throwing it all over again*