dasal (isyu at daing ng madaldal na isipan)

changes: we made some, let's make some

2007-07-10T18:51:00.000-07:00

have you read the post before this? well, it was posted months ago.

that's how long.

a life could change in a second. no wonder for months.

yeah. i could say i'm trully free.

free, baby, free.

breather

2006-09-29T01:32:00.000-07:00

as much as i hate to admit it, the need to be honest is relevant: i thank God for the sudden break from school - yet, i didn't approve of the storm. or did i?

many unfinished requirements are threatening my academic standing. the deadlines are in sight but the requirements themselves are blurry. all are crumped together in one deadline and none are finished - or have been started yet. after 13 years of studying, i still can't get the art of being academically on-time.

the storm was scary and unexpected. i had a taste of it. it wasn't nice - and i am sheltered. i wouldn't want to think about those who weren't.

i don't know where this is going.

suppose the point has already arrived.

Classes and Crosses

2006-09-14T07:42:00.000-07:00

i'm amazed by how the image of the Cross can scare the Hell out of me.

there are days when school seems to be an illogical institution that advocates reason, with no concrete explanation of how it will help us when we're already dead. seriously, if it weren't for God,going to school will be irrational. fine, let me try.

a student goes to school to earn himself a bright future (whatever bright means and how bright it could get, who knows?). an intelligent or street smart college grad can get a car, a house, a dog, even a dozen electric peelers (for laziness's sake). he would live accordingly, have a family, send his kids to a good school, his kids would earn a degree, work, get a car, electric peelers - see, cyclic. so what's the point of the cycle if there's no God? just to live, have babies, and die? what's the point of happiness and sorrow when at the end of it all, everythig will be deemed worthless by in an atheist's world?

stretching further, what's wrong with killing anything or anyone if there is no God? it might be considered wrong in the eyes of everybody else's, but I bet Hitler and the rest of humanity's enemies have total confidence in themselves to not care about what others think.

no, there must be a God. and He wants me to go to school, finish, and then surprise.

there are days when i drag myself to each class, forgetting why i am there in the first place. there are days when i lsoe interest in my academic form of worship, and i sometimes think there is no God.

pardon and forgiveness, Lord.

but then again, the Crucified keeps me going, reminding me why I'm here, why my eyes hurt, and what He wants from me. He pushes me.

and right now I'm really being violently shoved for stubborness.

Lord, tutor me.

see what Friendster can do (a moment of angst)

2006-09-13T07:36:00.000-07:00

may mga pagbabagong pinagdadaanan - dapat pagdaanan. bumabalik ang nakaraang sarili, kaya lang ngayon, malaki ang pinagbago - o umalis nga ba ang luma?

insecure sa mga taong gustong iparamdam sa iba ang insecurity, pero kasama rin nun ang awa para sa mga nasabing tao. mahina ang memorya, nakakapinsalang utak, mahirap makaintindi ng mga bagay-bagay, nakakahiya sa klase kasi mababa ang IQ pag-umasta. kaya nagbabasa ng anu-ano - dahil insecure.

sa lahat-lahat ng nabanggit, gusto ko lang naman makilala ang Diyos - at kasiyahan ko yun, kahit sa punto ng buhay ko ngayon,
banas na banas talaga ako sa takbo ng mundo:
sa apathy ng mga taong may makapangyarihan sa bulsa at utak,
sa indifference ng mga tao tungkol sa Diyos,
sa individualism na sinalpakan pa ng liberalism,
sa mga komersyal ng mga kapitalista sa shampoo at pampaputi,
sa mga komersyal ang anti- at pro-ChaCha na hindi naman talaga ipinapaliwanag sa mga tao kung bakit dapat maging anti- at pro,
sa mga aktibistang tatakbo sa kinabukasan na malamang magiging target rin ng mga kinabukasang aktibista,
sa mga may simpatya kay Palparan,
sa mga opportunists na nagmamanipula sa utak ng masa,
sa sarili ko kasi nagmamagaling ako eh wala naman talga akong alam -
well, ilan lang ito sa mga galit ko.

mapapansing malayo ako sa larawan ng isang Kristyano. malamang kahihiyan ako sa Sankakristyanuhan. pero hindi, hindi na mahalaga kung ano ang iniisip ko at ng ibang tao tungkol sa sarili ko.

pero buti na lang at mahal ako ng Diyos, at maniwala man ako o hindi, hinihiling Niyang mahalin ko ang lahat ng nabanggit kong kinasusuklaman ko, kasam na ang sarili ko. ang iniisip lang Niya ang mahalaga, kahit mahirap unawain.

mahirap, pero natututo naman ako.

sa ngayon, yun. nagmamahal naman ako. pero gusto Niya na magmahal talaga yun talagang ako.

magmamahal rin ako.

aw.

2006-08-11T21:57:00.000-07:00

For you have spent enough time in the past doing what pagans choose to do - living in debauchery, lust, drunkenness, orgies, carousing and detestable idolatry.

1 Peter 4:3 NIV

a series of How I Was

because i am less -

2006-08-11T00:30:00.000-07:00

i glorify You for everything - and help me to realize and cherish what they are. Lord, i want to express my love, but it seems difficult. all i know is i feel tired. my eyes are closing up on me. my body is, well, fatty. my mind is greatly scattered all throughout.

but i'm so amazed with how You are dealing with me. i wish i could write more.

more about Your breathing, and how it revives me everytime the wind delivers it. more about Your smile, magnified everytime the sun shines through the leafy trees of a concreted city, and how it reminds me of how Your heart overcomes all the sadness in me. more of Your tears, and of how sad You feel everytime i tell myself how i hate the way i am. more of Your patience, Jesus, everytime i feel you embrace me whenever i want to run away from everything, even from Your presence. Lord, i want more.

i swear with all i am that every fibre in my body wants to just let go. but You keep me intact. give me the exact words on how i can communicate with You the things of my heart. more, Beloved.

More.

no more atomism

2006-08-11T00:19:00.000-07:00

Lord Jesus,

may you break down every stronghold: reveal every hurt, every pain, every doubt, every fear.

make him realize Your love, Your grace, Your healing, Your empowerment, Your undescribable love that will cover everything about him.

give him ears to listen to the truth that You want him to hear. make him realize that he is loved and treasured, deeply and greatly, that You want him to be Yours. deal with him as You have dealt with us, and even deeper.

may You realease him from the bondage that chokes him. may he yearn for freedom in You, seek You, find You.

Jesus, give us faith that we may believe.

have Your way with him, please. Lord, do have him, i pray.

Please.

panira si melvin

2006-08-08T07:56:00.000-07:00

nananadya talaga si melvin. muntik ko na siyang awayin.

pumunta ako sa worship service, umaasang matutuwa at kikiligin ako dahil sa mapapakinggan ko muli ang mga salita ng Diyos. pero sinira lahat yun ni melvin. si melvin na matangkad at mukhang high na high kay Lord, oo, yung melvin na yun. panira talaga siya.

psalm 95 - mula sa bersiculo uno hanggang siete, masaya, positibo ang tingin sa pakikitungo sa Panginoon. pero pagdating sa otso patapos, aba, kinailangan pa talaga niyang ipamukha sa amin ang bigat ng galit ng Panginoon doon. complete shift of gears. una, tuwa, sunod, nagngangalit sa inis ang Panginoon kasi matitigas raw ang puso ng pinili Niyang angkan.

hindi raw sila kontento sa Diyos. ayaw nilang kunin ang ipinangakong lupa gayon at lantaran nang sinasabi ng Diyos na kanilang-kanila na yun. eh itong si melvin, kailangan pa talagang ipagdiinan na matigas ang mga ulo nila, na mas gugustuhin pa raw nilang maglalalakad sa loob ng kuwarentang taon kaysa sa mamalagi sa lupang umaapaw sa gatas at tagapulot. hindi pa dun huminto si melvin. kailangan pa talaga niyang sabihin sa amin na lahat raw kami ay ganoon: hindi nakukuha ang kasiyahan sa Diyos, o kaya paminsan-minsan lang. yun tipong magkwa-quiet time kung may nagbabadyang mga problema, kung obvious na may paparating na bagyo, mapa-lovelife man yan o mapa-exam. hobby lang daw si God sa amin. melvin, malupit ka talaga.

kasi para sa akin, totoo nga naman. sa mga nagdaang araw, banas na banas ako sa mundo, sa buhay, sa eskuwela, sa ministry, sa lahat-lahat nang maakita ko, nang wala namang konkreto at lohikal na dahilan. sa katunayan, mas delikado pa nga yun. wala kong maiduro na problema. hindi pa naman nawawatak ang pamilya ko, hindi pa naman ako maki-kick out sa unibersidad, wala naman akong nakamamatay na sakit, pero ang bigat talaga ng pakiramdam. tapos may krush ulit akong hindi ko naman talaga kilala. (si melvin, kilala niya). todo struggle nang wala namang konkretong basehan. nakakaasar talaga. binubugbog mo na yung kaluluwa mo kasiu pakiramdam mo nagdradrama ka lang, parang gawa-gawa mo nanaman ang nararamdaman mo, hanggat magmumurahan na ang isipan at puso mo.

at nang narinig ko si melvin, napaiyak na lang ako sa inis dahil hindi ko naman inaasahang maririnig ko yun. tinamaan ako: ipinamukha sa akin na kaya ako badtrip ay dahil naghahanap ako ng pagmamahal hindi mula sa Nagmamahal. nalaman kong hindi na nga pala ako nagkwa-quiet time, hindi ko na nahuhugot ang saya ko mula sa dapat Paghugutan. nililinlang ko ang sarili ko sa pamamagitan nang pag-iwas sa Salita, sa mga tamang kataga mula sa bibig ng Panginoon. nalaman kong andami Niyang sinabing binastos ko lang sa pamamagitan nang pag-iwas. hindi ako kumpleto, kasi hindi ko pa nga naman ibinigay nang kumpleto sa Diyos ang lahat-lahat.

para sa isang hindi Kristyano, hindi ako maiintindihan. ang labas ng Diyos ay strikto, boring, matampuhin. boring? hindi ha. strikto, matampuhin? malamang. kasi may karapatan naman Siya. gustong-gusto Niya akong budburan ng biyaya. ako lang naman itong nag-iinarte at tumatanggi. haay. panira talaga si melvin.

buti na lang. buti na lang nanghahabol talaga ang Diyos, kasi kung hindi, wala na akong paa sa sobrang galos. buti na lang namimigil Siya, hindi Siya nagpapabayang masira ko ang aking sarili. so, enjoyment kay God. excited na ako.

salamat melvin. at, ahm, mas guwapo ka talaga kaysa sa mga mata 'niya'. (Lord, sana po maibahagi ni melvin ang nilalaman nang puso niya at puso Ninyo sa kaibigan niyang ma-impluwensiya at, well, guwapo ang mga mata.amen.) promise.

providential life

2006-07-17T08:45:00.000-07:00

yeah, He always dips us in deep waters

gifts in a broken box

2006-07-17T08:40:00.000-07:00

opened, and released.

economics in malls and the streets

2006-07-16T07:20:00.000-07:00

there's something wrong with the parralelism of products in malls (a lot of them, be it a unique item or items of mass production ) waiting to be bought by a consumer on the spot and kids (lot of them - a LOT) starving and lacking quality education in their permanent settlement.

i'll think about it more.

delayed, but fast

2006-07-16T06:52:00.000-07:00

man, God sure retaliates fast. well, in a good way.

it's been months since i last had a new pair of shoes, and its been months since i last wore one. seriously. i have this notion that shoes are too expensive, or rather, they are not really worth thier tags. i tried to ask my mom for a pair, but then again, finances are too strict for a pair and i just can't bring myself to buy one: my beloved friends have scarcely anything to eat, and the price of a pair of shoes could somehow make their walk bearable. rationally, what do i need a pair of shoes for if i already have slippers?

it's been two weeks since i first craved for Welch's grape jiuce. root it all to the Communion. man, i love pouring the grape juice into those little Communion cups, and the taste somehow reminds me of, hm, well, something i can't quite eloquate. i've been saving up, a deed that is by God's grace alone (before, it was impossible for me to withold a hundred pesos from the food counter). i planned to buy the 1.89 litre, worth P233.50. but then again, my friends, ponkan juice (the stale one) is already a treat for them. hm, what's with grape juice outside Communion?

i asked, and God answered.

it wasn't in the itinerary. at least, not in mine. the message in church was Grace. after church, we went to Greenhills to get my Ate's ailing phone fixed. we passed by through stalls selling allsorts of things, things that people really don't need but they think they do. i pointed to this shoes, just pointed, and my aunt said that she will buy me a pair. well, we bought another pair since they don't have my size. i have to check my principles when it comes to buying imitations, but in that particular case, there's no stopping my aunt from getting me a pair since she told me that she rarely sees me in shoes. well, principles unformulated, i am thanful, then, we went to the supermarket. yes, there was Welch, and he was on sale. and yes, my aunt paid for it.

man, God is surely fast when it comes to delivering simple wishes. He's happy doing this, i know, i can feel He is.

the point of this entry is, i guess, getting a deeper insight thru the delay of wishes - and getting your wishes anyways when you are mature enough because of the delay, but still, He delivers fast. God surely knows His tactics. Graceful. Guwapo.

and oh, my aunt who blessed me with a pair of shoes and a bottle of Welch, her name is, no kidding, Grace.

specks

2006-07-12T07:55:00.000-07:00

you’re a cool person.

you have aspirations, dreams yet unconquered.
now, in this point of uncertainty, you just probably want to be liked by the people whom you adore. you just want to excel in your studies, being the best in class but not the most nerdy-obviously-racking-your-brains-out-grade-grabber student with glasses, no, you wear contacts; at the same time you go to the coolest parties by who you think are the coolest; get drunk with your coolest friends and your coolest friends’ friends; have someone who is cool enough to handle a cool relationship, be a the other-half of the coolest couple; you probably want to play the guitar or drums, know the ins and outs of the music stream, sing better or dance smoother, be adept in the arts, be able to draw, paint, sketch, take and develop your own photos, be able to read the coolest and weirdest books, be the coolest blogger, be a published writer while in your teens, be socially aware, fighting on the side of the deprived, be in the coolest and prominent orgs, be the perfect ideal person of the time.
rare, weird, social, liked, universal, perfect.

you’re a thinking person.

you look around, you read a lot, you interact a lot.
you easily recognize the faults, from the moment you wake up till infinity. you think: why is this world divided in two, the good and the evil, and there’s nothing in between? why do people cry because of pain and joy? why are the streetkids poor, you rich, and your cool friend richer, the most corrupt richest? why is communism utopian when ideally, it is beneficial for everybody? why can’t you oust a cheating president? why do people use the name of God to do evil? why is God, God? why so many gods? why so many religion with illogical rituals? why, is there a God? if there’s a God, then why is your mind raving with the faults, and none of the right? why is your family, in a sense, broken, when it was supposed to be from God? no, you think, God is just a defense of a resilient human mind, and weird enough, you think more, people’s mind tend to believe that there is a God, such is the power of the human mind. you are now enlightened, there is no God, you think.

you’re a hurting person.

get ready to be hurt, a lot.
there is a God, no matter what you think, and He exists, even without your approval. He can live without you, you think He’s begging you to believe Him, to be His follower. no, He doesn’t need you, really. you’re just a dot in the vastness of dots. your opinion and thinking won’t be heeded by three-fourth of the world’s population – you’re lucky if your family listens to you. you think you can make a difference, but really, you can’t make an eternal impact. you can’t make everyone like you, even the people you love. you can’t save anyone, helping is in vain. you may have everything, but really, what do you have? it’s nothing. you’ll live, have babies, and die. you’re hurt by these words. you think they’re not true. you think that the author is a bitter asshole. but then again, you think, aren’t we all? you’re scared. one way or another, you’re hurt. one way or another, it’s true. there’s a God, and you’re hurt because you just realized you are nothing.

there’s a God.
and He’s absolute, not because one-third of the world claims to ‘follow’ Him, but because He doesn’t need that one-third, or even a single human soul, to prove Him to be God. when the world turned against Him, we said that it’s His fault why we don’t believe – because we don’t see. but when He came down in the form of a human being for us to apprehend, we say that He could never be real, because He looks like us. but still, He loves.

the world has messed His image. that’s why you deny a God whom you don’t even know. for once, don’t think about what you and other people think. you’re a cool person. you’re a thinking person. you’re a hurting person.

He’s a loving God. He’s a God with a Godly wrath. He’s forgiving. He understands.

face Him. Doubt Him to His face. Ask Him your dangerous questions. God is a God who can handle the most destructive questions of a dot, a dot whom others think of as a speck, but He sees you as a beautiful picture.

think. do you want to?

lastly, you and I, both of us, we’re alike, we're dots.

organizing through organizers

2006-07-12T06:44:00.000-07:00

the calendar's boxes
are days, blank
and vast, small but
never completely blocked

by schedules,
by dates,
by assignments,
by birthdays,
by classes,
by reports,

by could-have beens,
by should-have beens.

notice the
small
spaces
on the
s
i
d
e
s
.

blocked, never.
fulfilled, never.

the emptiness of
the boxes are draining when
it's not filled with
the unseen Spirit.

Hirap ng Kahirapan

2006-07-09T08:33:00.000-07:00

Mahirap kumalinga. Mahirap maging Kristyano dahil hindi maiiwasang maging mapagkalinga sa kapwa. Mahirap ang maging Kristyanong hindi nangingialam, ang mabuhay nang wala naman talagang pakialam sa mga nangangailangan ng kalinga, habang higit sa kalahati ng mundo ay namamatay sa gutom, o sa giyera, o sa diskriminasyon, o sa kawalan ng pagkalinga ng mga taong tinatawag na mga Kristyano pero nabubuhay na lang nang wala naman talagang pakialam. Mahirap. Imposible.

Mahirap kumain ng carbonarra at roasted beef with mushroom gravy and mixed buttered veggies nang isang upuan habang nalalaman mong may isang pamilyang may 14 na miyembrong pinagsasaluan ang isang lata ng Argentina corned beef, yun maliit na lata, at huling butyl ng kaning linimos lang. Mahirap manuod ng sine kasama ang mga kaibigang Kristyano habang alam mong pinapatakbo ng mga satellite TV stations na wala nang ginawa kundi paasahin silang gginhawa ang buhay sa pamamagitan ng swertehan sa pagpili ng magic kahon - Ultra, nakamamatay. Mahirap mangarap na mag-aral ng second degree sa BS Business Economics sa kolehiyo habang may 11 taong gulang na batang hindi pa alam kung paano isulat ang buon pangalan niya. Mahirap tawanan ang joke ng isang kaibigan habang alam mong may mga batang tumatawa sa mga maduduming jokes na hindi naman dapat nila naririnig dahil yun ang naririnig nila sa mga nag-iinuman nilang mga magulang.

Mahirap mangako ng tulong, kahit gaano pa kalinis ang intensyon mo, kung hindi mo naman dadamdamin ang buhay nila, kung hindi mo aalamin ang hirap ng pagkakaroon pagkain nila, ang halaga ng piso para sa kanila, ang saya na idinudulot ng lapis sa kanila. Mahirap lang kung nababasa mo ang kahirapan, o nababalitaan sa kaibigan, o napapanood sa TV.
Mahirap maging mahirap. At mahirap maging Kristyanong walang puso para sa mga mahihirap.

in Umiray, Aurora, Jesus destroyed my life

2006-04-07T01:43:00.000-07:00

He gave me a new one.

Humbled, Less Pressured

2006-04-07T01:34:00.000-07:00

everything about this sem, academically speaking, failed. i thought i had it going on the first, but now, well, no. what will i tell my parents? hm.

i'm sad, yeah, but not depressed. goodbye magna...but then again, who would care, really. as long as i get in to...

so, there, i'm saying farewell to academic pressure and focus on the very Person i am living for.

2006-03-01T04:52:00.000-08:00

cool plate by Jaime. let's 'help' the kids.

Kalkalins sa album ni Eki (pansinin:lagi akong nakanganga)

2006-02-23T19:24:00.001-08:00

poems do fade as fools like me,

but only Him can forge these three -

and the trees above us.

2006-02-23T19:24:00.000-08:00

our kids! Lord, i pray that they will grow in Thy way.

2006-02-23T19:22:00.000-08:00

bago pa man mag-umpisa ang UP fair, nakatunton na kami sa loob habang

pinoposte nila manong ang mga yero.

hindi naman ako nakapunta sa actual na UP fair.

2006-02-23T19:18:00.000-08:00

si rai na nakaalam ng deepest darkest secret ko tungkol dun sa deepest darkest person

na sa palagay niya ay kinababaliwan ko na - ang dark.

at ako.

2006-02-23T19:14:00.000-08:00

si eki, may tinitingnan sa sunken garden, malamang si...

ang minamahal kong disciple na si chacha sobrang addict sa Panginoon, nakakatuwa

at akong hindi ma-express ang tuwa

sa tambayan.

2006-02-23T19:12:00.001-08:00

ayun si meko (papunta ako sa kanila ngayon) na naka-ewan sign at ang kamay ni eki na ganun din.

ako, wala eh.

2006-02-23T19:12:00.000-08:00

si eki na nagkukunwaring two- face at akong nagkukunwaring natatakot.

mali, paano mangyayari yun eh nakatalikod ako?hala, mahirap solusyonan.

2006-02-23T19:10:00.000-08:00

Natre (Shutter) joins a telenovela

(ganito ang kuwento niyan:

si eki si natre,

ako yung malditang nanay ni chacha na nagpapatay sa kasintahan

ni hardinerong julius na si chimay na natre, pero ngayon,

nagayuma ni malditang chacha si ju. kaya ko nga pinapatay si natre,

para makuha ni chacha yun gusto niya -

ang lame ng kuwento.lahat naman ata ng telenovela ganyan.)

2006-02-23T19:00:00.000-08:00

Robert Magnuson's "Mr. Beetle's Many Rooms'"

number one fan!

VANDALISM

2006-02-19T04:15:00.000-08:00

pee…
pee…
i need to tug-
tug
my skirt
down,

i sit on the throne of heaven –

ahhhhhhh…
earth’s heaven indeed,

its scriptures came into light,
the wisdom of cubicle angels etched
on the walls of this paradise:

“I’m still a virgin – would it hurt?”

“Yes, honey, but don’t let that
stop you from cumming.”

“I dream of marrying my Psych prof!”

“Dream on – his gay.”

“Join the revolution!
Oust the fascist!
Free the country!”

“Let’s live in the mountains!”

“I love my girlfriend –

we had sex here!”

“Shit! I’m 2 months preggy!
Does any bitch know
where I could get help?”

“I know this place in Quiapo.
Drink 12 pills of Cytotec and
go there – they got rid
of my problem.”

this is a glimpse
of their heaven,
a revelation of
their four-cornered paradise.

i fix my skirt,
i head outside,
i look at the sky,

Heaven has no walls.

Papa sent this thru e-mail, galing: If Noah was Filipino

2006-02-19T03:59:00.000-08:00

*To the writer of this piece, wow, I wish i knew you.

If Noah was a Filipino...

It is the year 2005 and Noah lives in the PHILIPPINES.

The Lord speaks to Noah and says: "In one year I am going to make it rain and cover the whole Earth with water until all is destroyed. But I want you to save the righteous people and two of every kind of living thing on the earth.

Therefore, I am commanding you to build an Ark." In a flash of lightning, God delivered the specifications for an Ark.

Fearful and trembling, Noah took the plans and agreed to build the Ark. "Remember," said the Lord, "You must complete the Ark and bring everything aboard in one year."

Exactly one year later, a fierce storm cloud covered the earth and all the seas of the earth went into tumult. The Lord saw Noah sitting in his front yard weeping.

"Noah." He shouted, "Where is the Ark?"

"Lord please forgive me!" cried Noah. "I did my best but there were big problems. First, I had to get a Mayor's permit for construction and your plans "did not comply with the codes". I had to hire their "engineering firm" and "redraw" the plans & nbsp;

Then I got into a fight with Municipal Fire Safety Inspector over whether or not the Ark needed a fire sprinkler system andextinguishers.

Then my neighbours objected, claiming I was violating zoning ordinances by building the Ark in my front yard, so I had to get a permit from the municipal planning office.

The Municipal Planning office told me to get a barangay clearance. But when I went to the Barangay Captain, he said I should first get a permit from the municipal planning office. I got confused.

I had problems getting enough wood for the Ark, because there was a ban on cutting trees to protect the Monkey-Eating Eagle. I finally convinced the DENR that I needed the wood to save the eagles. However, the DENR won't let me catch any eagles . So, no eagles.

The carpenters formed a union and went out on strike. I had to negotiate a settlement with the KMU. Now I have 16carpenters on the Ark, but still no eagles.

When I started rounding up the other animals, I got sued by an animal rights group. They objected to me only taking two of each kind aboard.

Just when I got the suit dismissed, the DENR again notified me that I could not complete the Ark without filing an environmental impact assessment on your proposed flood. They didn't take very kindly to the idea that they had no jurisdiction over the conduct of the Creator of the universe.

Then the DPWH demanded a map of the proposed new flood plan. I sent them a globe.

Right now, I am trying to resolve a complaint filed with the DOLE that I am practicing discrimination by not taking godless, unbelieving people aboard!

The BIR has seized all my assets, claiming that I'm building the Ark in preparation to flee the country to avoid paying taxes. I just got a notice from the BIR that I owe some kind of user tax and failed to register the Ark as a recreational watercraft.

The NBI and ISAFP each wanted a piece of the action alleging that the Ark would be used by Garcillano to escape.

The PNP on the other hand insists that Mr. Arroyo might use the Ark to flee to the USA.

Malacanang sees the opportunity to use the Ark for GMA's Strong Republic Nautical Highway presidential campaign sorties.

Upon hearing my building the Ark, Congress did what they always do --- formed a fact-finding committee. I'm not worried about that though because they've never had anything done anyway.

Finally the Senate got the courts to issue a TRO against further construction of the Ark, saying that since God is flooding the earth, it is a religious event and therefore unconstitutional.

I really don't think I can finish the Ark for another 10 or 16 years!" Noah wailed.

The sky began to clear, the sun began to shine and the seas began to calm. A rainbow arched across the sky.

Noah looked up hopefully. "You mean you are not going to destroy the earth, Lord?"

"No," said the Lord sadly...."The government is already doing that."

Halo-Halo

2006-02-16T03:12:00.000-08:00

oo, totoo, marami akong nararamdaman ngayon. di ko nga alam kung anong uunahin, nag-uunahan kasi sila eh, silang lahat.

ahm, medyo malungkot ako kasi pabagsak nanaman yun mga grado ko: 10/100 ako sa philo11 exam ko kay ser tangco, tapos magdro-drop ako ng sports climbing, hindi ko pa tapos yun folio ko sa cw100, dami kasing kaartehan sa paintings, hindi naman ako nagunguna sa socsci2, sp130, fil20 o eng23 - mga subjects na inaasahan kong sasalba sa akin, kulang-kulang assignments at quizzes ko, ewan ko lang kung may forced drop na ako. magulo ang utak ko, sabog na sabog.ikinalulungkot ko rin na magulo ang damdamin ko dahil nagmamahal na nga ata ako, o isang matnding pagkalinlang, hindi ako sigurado, isang kabaduyan na di ko inaakalang papatulan ko. hindi naman niya alam, o malamang alam na niya ngayon, pero hindi, hindi naman siguro kasi magaling naman ako magtago - noon, hindi na ngayon, nasabi ko na kay rai eh, sa kanya lang muna, di ko pa kayang ibunyag sa iba, baka masabihan pa ako ng "kadiri", di ko pa kaya.

ang dami, ang dami-daming gumugulo, nakakalungkot, nakaka-enganyo, parang nagsasabi silang lahat na "ayos lang malungkot, marami ka namang natututunan, marami ka namang nararamdaman", tapos sabay-sabay silang sasayaw sa isipan ko, ritual dance na matagal na nilang ginagawa tuwing bilog ang buwan, ang buwan na nagdidikta kung kailan ako malulungkot.

pero buti na lang may araw, mas matikas yun, mas maliwanang, mas malakas ang kapit sa akin, hapit na hapit, sakop talaga ako ng ilaw niya.

masaya ako, todo ang galak na pinipintig ng pulso ko ngayon: may mga disciples na ako, lima sila, sabay-sabay kaming nag-aaral ng salita ni God, nagwi-witness na rin ako, isang bagay na matagal ko nang ipinagdarasal pero kinakatakutan, takot pa rin ako ngayon pero kailangan kasi nilang marinig eh, kailangan nilang malaman na mahal na mahal sila ni Jesus, na sobrang nagmamakaawa na siya para lang tanggapin nila ang kasiyahang alok niya, ang kabuuan ng saya na talaga namang para sa kanila, na hindi naman siya mahirap abutin, na andiyan lang siya, kumakatok sa pinto ng puso, di bale na sa isipan kasi mahirap naman talaga pala siyang intindihin, na may mga bagay-bagay na hindi natin maiintindihan kasi hindi naman tayo nagtatanong, na may mga tanong na hindi natin masasagot kasi hindi naman natin maiintindihan, na matagal na siyang naghihintay para lang mapansin, mantakin natin, Diyos, naghihintay, naghihintay na mapansin, na oo, minsan naawa ako sa kanya, na nagpapakatanga siya para sa mga taong hindi naman siya pinapahalagaan, kung ako lang siya, naku, matagal ko nang pinasabog yang mga yan, mabubuhay naman kasi ang Diyos ng walang tao, walang sakit ng ulo, pero hindi, nakakapagtaka siya, nakakapagtaka talaga ang pag-ibig niya, at hindi ako siya, mahal ko lang siya, mahal na mahal, hindi ko alam kung bakit, hindi ko alam kung papaano, basta nangyari na lang, kasi una niya akong minahal, eh wala naman masyadong nagmamahal sa akin noon, pero ayos lang, dahil sa kanya, marami nang nagmamahal, pero sapat na ang pagmamahal niya, yun pagmamahal ng mga mahal ko, bonus na lang yun, libre, yun, yun ang gusto kong ipaalam sa mga taong hindi pa nakakarinig ng katotohanan, na pumapasok ang Diyos sa mga buhay ng taong tumatanggap kay Jesus at binabago talaga niya ang takbo ng buhay, binubura niya ang mga kasalanang sumisira sa atin, binubura niya ang mga kahihiyan na tumutunaw sa atin, na may choice tayo kung gusto natin siyang tanggapin, gusto kasi niya kusa nating maramdaman yun pagmamahal na yun, at hindi yun nanggagaling sa simbahan, o sa relihiyon, o sa anumang santong dinadasalan ng mga eskuwelahan natin, hindi, mga sinungaling yun mga yun, hindi naman kasi natatagpuan ang Diyos sa sculptures,a t nakalulungkot na hindi ko na siya makita sa simbahan, sa Bible na lang, yun na lang ang tanging simbahan ko, pero nagsisimula nga muna yan sa aming dalawa, sa relasyon namin ni Jesus, sa kung gaano kalalim ang pagkakaibigan namin, ang pagmamahalan, ang pagkukulitan, kasi makulit si God, napa-oo niya ako, hindi naman ako napilitan, um-oo lang talaga ako sa panahong pakiramadam kong walang-wala na na ako, tapos binago niya ako, ang saya, may galak talaga ang puso ko.

ang haba, mahaba ang kasiyahan at kalungkutan ko ngayon, pero nananaig pa rin ang Diyos, na ayos lang kahit pabagsak ako sa philo11, nakuha ko naman ata yun pabor ni ser tangco kasi willing naman siyang turuan kami, puwede pa naman akong mag-sports climbinbg kasi may belayer card naman na ako sa power up, maipapasa ko naman yun folio ko sa cw100, ang saya nga nun kasi may pito akong paintings dun, inspirado ako eh, pumapangalawa naman ako sa mga subjects na inaasahan kjong sasalba sa akin - wala na akong pangamaba, wala nang takot kahit bumagsak, sinalba na ako ng Diyos noong first sem, ganito rin ang nangyari noon, tinamad ako at parang babagsak, sumobra pa nga ng isang GEng AH, pero pinalakas niya ako't naisalaba, na-US pa nga eh, at hindi ko gawa yun, bobo ako kung ako lang, si Jesus lang talaga may kagagawan nun, kaya nga Savior eh, taga-pagligtas sa lahat ng aspeto ng buhay ko. para naman sa infatuation ko, tinutukso pa nga ako ni Lord eh, hindi kinukulit niya ako, pero haay, Lord, sana tapusin niyo na, hindi ko siya kayang mahalin, hindi ata, bahala ka na ha, bahala na talaga, ewan.

leche flan at ube sa itaas, yan, handa na akong kumain.

Jesus: once an alien, now a Savior

2006-02-11T01:58:00.000-08:00

Christian, i call myself a Christian, yet, its definition cannot be thoroughly seen in my soul. yeah, i projected that i was, and to not be totally unfair with myself, i somehow lived this life, but it wasn't complete.

what did i miss? Christ Himself.

now, it's different, it's wonderful, it has changed.

yes, see.

my Kuyz

2006-01-17T22:20:00.000-08:00

we weren't all right

falling-out does happen

2006-01-17T22:19:00.002-08:00

he and i, we were reconciled, thanks to

the light that has cast His rays upon us,

inspiring us to take this shot

2006-01-17T22:19:00.001-08:00

then i began to realize how God-given he is,

and is realizing still

2006-01-17T22:14:00.000-08:00

yeah, i guess we're back on track

LSS

2006-01-04T21:45:00.000-08:00

*salamat kay Danj sa pagpapahiram ng MP3 niya. Nagpapasalamat si Danj Kay k.J at Salamin na kumanta nito sa gig nila.

"All These Things I've Done" by The Killers

When there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son
One more sonIf you can hold on
If you can hold on, hold on I wanna stand up,
I wanna let go
You know, you know - no you don't, you don't

I wanna shine on in the hearts of men
I want a meaning from the back of my broken hand
Another head aches, another heart breaks
I am so much older than I can take
And my affection, well it comes and goes
I need direction to perfection, no no no no

Help me out
Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out
And when there's nowhere else to run

Is there room for one more son
These changes ain't changing me
The cold-hearted boy
I used to be

Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out
You're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down

I got soul, but I'm not a soldier
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier
...

Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out
You're gonna bring yourself down
You're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down
Over and in, last call for sin
While everyone's lost, the battle is won
With all these things that I've done
All these things that I've done
If you can hold on
If you can hold on

TO ALL THE DEAD WHO DIED OF DEADLY MISTAKES

2006-01-04T21:42:00.000-08:00

I pray that everything will be understood by those whom you left behind. You have left this world suddenly, only with the forewarning of a goodbye. Maybe you weren’t expecting that your physical body will shut down so soon, or maybe you were hoping for it to be that way because of how life has pained you. Regardless, it was all too shocking, all to painful, and all to surreal for those whom you have bereaved. As for the rest of the world, it’s just another mortality – take a glimpse of the dead and move on. As for us who believe that there is a God and His Enemy, it’s another uncertain journey for your soul.

Not Lesbian Nor Gay, But Girl Slash Guy

2006-01-04T21:41:00.000-08:00

It was a dehydrating day of driving when I and my Dad decided to stop over to fill up the tank as well as our stomachs. Judging by the absence of a vacant parking space, people greatly treasured the service of coolly-ventilated restaurants. So we decided to grab a bite through the take-out counter. Dad stayed in the car while I charged the scorching heat of concrete between our car and the entrance door with my hair tied under a baseball cap.
I lined behind two old women who were claiming their discount by presenting senior citizen cards. It took them quite a long time negotiating with the cashier about the validity of the card, making me more concern about the state of my Dad getting baked in the car. Finally, a waiter realized that eternity already passed since the beginning of that negotiation, so he asked the cashier in the next counter if she can accommodate me. He turned to me and said,”Sir, you can proceed to the next counter.” I smiled but didn’t move. He took a good look at my features, observing me from toe to cap, and smiled heartily. “Hey! Kindly serve ‘Sir’ over here!” he shouted for everyone to hear. He turned back to me again joking, “Really, Sir. Don’t be scared. We don’t bite…you will be the one who’ll do the biting on our delicious meals…” My expression was in the middle of a smile and an appalled grin. But it wasn’t the first time that happened.
I remembered the time when I taught in the Day Care because of our school’s scholastic organization’s Outreach Program. I was observing the kids, reminding them every once in a while to stop punching each other, when one of them tagged my skirt. He looked at me with inquisitive eyes and I beamed back. “Why? Don’t you understand the lesson?”
Without so much of a warning or a sign that I’m about to be humiliated straight to my below-the-knee girl’s uniform wearing self he spits “You’re gay.” His tone was not questioning. It was declarative.
Now, I have nothing against the third sex. In fact, I find them fascinating in the sense that they are, well, queer. (One of my best friends is the gayest ever, and I adore him to the core). But putting it that way, well, I got myself disoriented throughout the lesson. The kid just stared at me, expecting the affirmation of his basic skills in comic anatomy. I and my friends just laughed at it, them laughing like hyenas that were hyper-ventilating, and I, my jaws twitching to fake a smile.
That was just the umpteenth time it occurred, but it was significant since, I have mentioned, I was wearing a five-inch below the knee skirt as were my other certified GIRL classmates. Maybe it’s the fact that I often forget to tell everyone I get acquainted with that I am a natural girl. Or maybe it’s because I have similarities with Shaquille O’Neal, as my brother insists. Either way, sixty percent of the people I meet get the first impression that I’m a boy, not gay. Boy. Does this insecure me? Well, I would be lying if I say that I take it as a compliment. At first, it got me asking questions like “Am I really a girl?” or “Was I a hermaphrodite and my mom just chose the feminine genital for me?” But as time passed along with more remarks, I felt strangely happy about myself.
I felt comfortable with everything that I do – from playing demented basketball to laughing my tonsils out over a simple newspaper joke. People don’t mind, in fact, I got more friends because of my hermaphroditic personality. Friends, boys, girls and gays alike confide in me, not because I’m witty with advises or I suck at it, but because I understand precisely how they feel. I jive with the sexualities. My Mom too had doubts if I was really a girl, preparing herself for the confession of my being a lesbian, because some guy friends would visit our home looking for my company just for the sake of goofing around, boy’s style. I am not picky with people. I can get along with the most demure of the princesses to the “piggiest” of the pigs. Being a girl-slash-guy surely is beneficial. It’s just who I am. And I thank God for that.
So, I finally got the iced drinks from the counter, smiling at the waiter before I head for the concrete desert outside. As I left the resto, they all giggled - signifying something good; they finally recognized the waiter’s error and realized that I AM A GIRL! (Okay, I’m not sure of that. But they were definitely laughing the moment I walked out the door.)
Whatever it was, it’s no cliché – it really is fun being a girl.
Slash guy.

I Because of You^ and He

2006-01-04T21:39:00.000-08:00

^too much: all of these, it’s too much.

^you know how much i love you: you who know me more than what i’ve made known to you, you who scrutinizes my mind to the deadliest of its cells, you who searches my soul to the depths of my unsaid, you who compels me to live a life floating in tears, you who makes me soar in undying wings of faith beyond, you whom i love more than i could ever hate myself, you, my you.

^you know how much i love him: he who doesn’t know me even though i think he does, he who lacerates my mind from your heart, he who can never search me for the faintest sign of love through the densest pretension, he who compels me to forbid a single tear to make sprout this ground that buries my reality, he who makes me soar with waxed lies, he, he who is not mine.

^i have crushed us: for the last time, i have crushed us.

^i have taken my life because of him: i who had made him take what used to be resilient in every abrasion of this hellish earth, taken what used to be calm in the midst of my attempts for emotional suicide, taken what used to be a strong defense against blinded love that causes agony, taken what used to be a rational mind against a deceiving heart, taken what used to be yours, i, i have taken them all.

^i have pained you again during the time i told you i love him: and again when i refused to talk to you because i was loving him, and again when i’d rather dream of his voice than read what you have written for me because I love him, and again when i tried to ruin all our plans to silently make room for him because i love him, and again when i chose to remember his smile rather than your tears for me let go of him because i was loving him, and again when i am contented in seeing him from a distance rather than staying close to you because i love him, and again because i love him.

^i don’t know the difference anymore: between your understanding and my guilt, i don’t know the difference.

^if you could possibly stay with me through all of him: possibly whisper to my deafness to hold on to you and loosen my grip of him, possibly understand my numb eyes and unleash its cleansing current that he imprisoned, possibly tell me that it wouldn’t matter if i love him or despise him because i love him too much, possibly help me say goodbye to him or say hello to a lover whom i will never be, possibly bear with me as i bear my grief for he and i, possibly cleanse my mind with your thoughts of us, possibly remind me of how we became the eternal lovers that we are, possibly love me more despite of my despicable unfaithfulness, possibly hasten me to move on to a mature spirit through your coercing encouragement, if you could possibly, please, if you could.

^i don’t feel worthy because of me: i who dishevel everything that you have painstakingly put to order, i who blame him when in truth it is i who has the grievous fault, i who complicate the supposedly divine feeling then turning it into the most evil of all, i who blind myself constantly with my own truth instead of yours, i who destroyed him because i thought he destroys me, i who has taken every truth in him then turning all of him into a lie, i who is selfish because i want him to change into someone that he wasn’t designed to be, i who pain both you and him, i, i am in the middle of sin.

^Lord Jesus: i need you more than i could have possibly needed you because of him, Lord.

Lecheng Brain

2006-01-04T21:38:00.000-08:00

“Hindi naman mababasa yan ng mga bobo. Ano pang kuwenta niyan?” itatanong sa akin ng isang sinicong kaibigan. “Kahit pa tungkol sa kanila yan, mga edukado rin lang naman ang makakabasa.”
“Hindi ah,” naman ang pinakamatalinong maisasagot ko sa kanya.
“Oo. Walang kuwenta yan. Ano bang gusto mong mangyari? Sa tingin mo ba mababawasan ng isinulat mo ang kabobohan dito sa Pilipinas?”
“Oo,” papiyok ko namang sasabihin. Papawala na ang diksyon ng katalinuhan.
“Nakakaawa ka naman. Hindi mo ba nakikita na kayo-kayo lang ng mga kapwa mo manunulat ang kikilatis niyan. Kayo-kayo rin lang ang mag-iisip. Kayo-kayo rin lang ang tatalino. Ano pang kuwenta ng pagsusulat niyo kung kayo-kayo rin lang ang makikinabang?”
“Eh bakit ‘di mo subukang basahin?” Kakayanin kong manaig ang katalinuhan.
“Subukan? Sinubukan ko nang basahin lahat ng kauri niyan. May pattern, may batas na sinusunod. Masyadong malalim, masyadong exclusive ang lenguahe, masyadong nagsasabing ‘matalino kami, wala ka nang pag-asa’. Hindi nanghihikayat. Nantataboy pa. Nakaka-insecure. Nakakabobo.”
Nakaharap pa lang ako sa computer, naiisip ko na ang ganitong engkuwentro. Ang kanyang sasabihin, ang kanyang pagtatanong, ang kanyang panlalait, ang kanyang kabobohan.
Nabanggit niya sa akin noon na “kasalanan ng manunulat kung bakit hindi nila napapabasa ang brains ng mga leche.”
Sa takbo ng kanyang pag-iisip, di ko na kasalanan yun.

Survival 101 by the School of Rock

2006-01-04T21:36:00.000-08:00

“To those who are about to rock, we salute you.”
_ Jack Black
School of Rock

You gotta be kidding me – these kids rock! No, they do more than that- they really, really, really, REALLY rock! Man, the band was way past their age, their skills, way beyond awe, their influence, way past beyond bedtime. (Owkeiii…need to get…grip…) THEY. ROCKED. MY. HEART. (Waaaahhhhh!!!!)

(Owkeii. I’m calm now…) It’s my third time to be captivated by this film, and that’s just it, I’m captivated still, along with an incurable diagnose of LSS (Last Song Syndrome...

If you wanna be the teacher’s pet…)

No film, and I mean, NO FILM has ever lulled me to dream like this before. School of Rock definitely tossed all those teeny-bopper-jock-versus-nerd-it’s-cool-to-get-drunk-and-sex-me-highschool-chick-and-dick flicks to the negative bin. (I never liked them, but ironic enough, I had a weird time loving to watch them). This film has reason, this film has rhyme – and I’ll try to justify.

Rock isn’t about getting loaded and acting like a real jerk.
What’s rock?
Scoring some chicks.
No.
Getting loaded.
No! You guys…
Sticking it to “The Man”!

Whoever The Man is, I sympathize with them. As for my Man, well, he takes a lot of forms. Just like those in the film: nicotine-in-a-stick/those who invited Freddie over their van; depression-inducing ethyl/what made Dooey crowd-swim into a non-existent crowd; demonic lyrics/well, so it’s not in the film, but Disturbed and Korn were hymns then, though; weight issues/Tamica’s refusal to perform because she thinks she’s “different”; acne issues/ok, so all of them were acne-free; academic related laziness/hm, I think all of them were; foul lying mouth/more severe than Dooey’s; principals/although mine way back in High School was – hm, I wouldn’t be able to recount them all unless I return to that life, and I won’t rock back. I already stuck it up to The Man. I challenged those that hinder me from rocking fro in this life, we all did, and we rocked victoriously. So far.

I have crushes: two ten-year old rocking adolescents – no, they’re just ten - kids!!! Zach and Freddie are the cutest rockers I’ve ever strummed for. I love the silent, mysterious, “I’m deep, there’s more to me” type of Zach and Freddie’s rolled up sleeve, punk-ish schoolboy, “I can roll the drums” attitude. Adorable children. (Pedophilia is not the case). But seriously, I guess I really adore guys who can make some melodic noise, and in my preference, music for the – tadtadtadana - for the Lord! I adore guys who are unashamed to rock for God, to beat their drums loud and strum their guitars proud for the world to hear that Jesus saved them, that He makes them sing, that He rocks their world, that He makes them stride the universe and raise their goblets of overflowing love. Hm, sound like a cheesy love song. But I love guys who are unashamed to sing it.

Weird enough, this is a “clean” film. Aside from the teeny-bopper-jock-versus-nerd-it’s-cool-to-get-drunk-and-sex-me-highschool-chick-and-dick free factor, aside from the reason, aside form the rhyme, it has rhythm. Its tune appeals to the heart. When parents understand why their kids take up a different path from them, why they have distinct talents that is not genetical, why they are happy with company that they themselves will never be with, why they drink their depression away, why they sleep with anyone who’s willing, why their genitals ache, why they cry after waking up beside someone naked, why they abort, why they commit suicide – then maybe life would play a much sweeter tune and the noise-like coda will be an accepted part of their whole song. If parents would just take the time to watch their children performing on their own stages, then maybe they will find a reason to cheer for their kids.

Now,now. My parents are loyal patrons of whatever I am, I left the chemical inspired life behind, and I’m not sexing anyone before marriage, but majority of this world are not as optimistic. School of Rock is not just about the sound. It’s more about something – an unnamed something that will trigger you to think of life beyond the movie, that only it can inspire. Look at me, how did rockers turn to survivors?

Watch it, rockers, and be educated…

To the top.

Hala, Ang Filipino ni Ma'am

2006-01-04T21:29:00.000-08:00

Ito ang pinaka-ayaw ko sa lahat: bibigyan mo ng pagkakataong mabuhay ang isang libro, pero pagkatapos ay papatayin naman nito ang sanity mo. Sa lahat ng libro, lahat-lahat ng may katuturan, wala kayong utang na loob sa curiosity ng mambabasa. Serial killer kayo ng mga bobo.

Walang pinagkaiba ang Makinilyang Altar. Curious lang naman ako kasi guro ko sa Fil20 ang nagsulat. Mas lalo pang tumindi ang curiosity ko nang lagi itong naka-out sa library tuwing maisipan kong i-search ito sa OPAC para lang magmukhang researcher. Aba, bumebenta si Ma’am. Ngunit hindi ko agarang binasa ito nang mahiram ko na, unang talata pa lang umiral na ang kabobohan ko. Ngunit nang sinearch ko ang synopsis nito sa web para mapreserve ang aking angking kamangmangan, lumabas ang review ng isang istudyante na naisulat sa wikang Ingles. Pinukaw raw ng librong ito ang takot niya sa mga Filipino novels. Elitista ang writer na ito, nagbasa ng Filipino novel kasi required sa University of the Philippines. Hmmmm… interesting. Kaya pag-uwi ko, hindi ko na pinansin ang sakit ng aking ulo sa unang talata, hanggang sa sumuko na ito sa page twelve. Hala, pakiramdam ko may kaunting dunong na pumipintig sa kukote ko. Marunong pala akong magbasa. I’m proud.

Pero naluluha ako habang binabasa ko ito. Nakakaiyak naman talaga ang ibang mga parte, pero hindi yun ang rason. Passive father si Deo Dimasupil, oo, pero hindi pa rin yun. Ideal daughter sana si Laya Dimasupil kung pinapansin lang siya ng tatay niya, pwede, pero hindi rin yun. Namatay ang alagang manok ni Bituin, at cannibals ang mag-anak niya kasi iprinito nila ito para sa pananghalian. Dramatic, pero hindi eh. Maraming boses ang nagkukuwento at kailangang balik-balikan ang division para lang malaman mo kung sino ba ang nagsasalaysay. Yun, yun yon. Mamaya-maya, si Laya. Tapos bigla-bigla na lang tinig na ni Propesor Deo Dimasupil. Nagsalita pa nga si Ma’am Gloria na isa rin palang manunulat katulad ng kanyang asawa. Nakakaiyak manghula kung sino ba ang nagsasalita, tapos mali pala ang iyong inaakala kaya hindi mo mai-connect ang mga pangyayari. Uulitin mo ulit na basahin para maitama. Tunay ngang nakakapagpaluha ng mga mata. Nakakabobo.

Hala, unfaithful wife pala si Laya. Patunay siya sa cliché na first love never dies. Flirt. Flirt yung Sid nay yun, yung first love niya. Alam na ngang may asawa si Laya – oh well, mutual agreement naman iyon. Ang mga eksena sa ibabaw ng table, sa shelf, sa sahig, lahat daw iyon ay ginusto ni Laya. Sige, hindi naman birhen ang utak ko sa sex, pero iba pala kung may hitsura na ang karakter sa aking isipan. Hala, Ma’am, patawad talaga. Naalala ko ang sabi ni Ser Vlad, guro ko dati sa MPs10, na huwag raw naming itatali ang awtor sa isinulat niya. Hindi ko na nga ginawa yun, pero dahil sa kabobohan ko, naidawit si Ma’am kasi sabi ni Laya hindi raw maihihiwalay ng makinilyang altar ang awtor sa akda niya. Tapos sabi nung nagsulat ng Introduction na mas nakilala raw niya si Rogelio Sicat dahil sa librong ito. Hala, tatay yun ni Ma’am eh. Ibig bang sabihin nun ay accurate ang events sa librong ito? Naiyak ulit ako.

Kalmado ang hitsura ni Ma’am. Sa katunayan, nagagandahan ko siya kasi Pilipina talaga ang hitsura niya. Nakakainggit pa talaga ang mga mata niya, parang naluluhang masaya. Nakita ko na rin ang asawa niya kasi siya ang namahala sa quiz namin nang minsang hindi nakapasok si Ma’am. Mukha naman silang masaya. Tapos sisirahin ko lang ang imaheng iyon kasi hindi ko maihiwalay si Ma’am sa Makinilyang Altar. Sad.

Iyon ang isang matinding problema ng kabobohan. Confession ba iyon o fiction lang para may spice ang nobela? Kung ano man iyon, hanga pa rin ako sa librong ito. Hindi kaakibat ng manunulat ang kanyang gawa, parang kahit sabihin niyang mamamatay tao siya, hindi ako maniniwala kasi malaya pa rin siyang pumapatay ng kabobohan. Matapang. Matapat. Totoo. O, yan nanaman, pinupuri ko na si Ma’am, pinupuri ko na ang libro ngunit kani-kanina lang ay isinusumpa ko ito. Hm, kabobohan. Inconsistent talaga.

Ngunit sa pangkalahatan, higit pa sa pagkasuklam ko sa mga librong nagpapadugo ng ilong, inudyak ng Makinilyang Altar na maari kong mahalin ang sariling wikang banyaga para sa akin. May posibilidad na mapukaw ng Pilipinong tinig ang asiwa ko sa pagbasa nito. Mas malakas ang boses ng libro kaysa sa mga letra nito, boses na nangbubulyaw, nanghahamon. Nakakapandugo man ito ng ilong, nahuhugasan naman ng mga luha ang lansa.

Salamat, Makinilyang Altar. Excited na ako sa susunod kong babasahin na babawas sa aking kabobohan. Paalam, kabobohan.

Hindi, hindi nananahimik ang Makinilyang Altar.

2006-01-04T04:46:00.000-08:00

Sigh. I hate the feeling of a wannabe-writer. Self-pity encloses as the words parade in front of me, forming pictures that I never thought visible, then leaving me dumfounded with nothing to capture it with. Literature intimidates me, especially the ones authored by living writers, young and younger they get. But they fascinate me. I’m always caught drooling by them poems, short stories, essays, plays, screenplay, everything that spells ‘publishable’ and ‘copyright’.
Difficult. There’s still time to clench my fingers and tuck it in, somewhere where letters won’t be able to make them dance. My mind, I confess, is his own boss. All I ask of him is to critique a poem and imitate it. He won’t budge, though he says he will. In his own time. Well, I say to him, time will come that your stubbornness will kill my future. My academics is at stake here, mister. Then turn back, he constantly serenades me.
Can’t. I got myself into wanting this and turning back is not plausible. Quitting is like asking myself to grow ten years younger, asking Mr. Mind to forget every reason that makes me live. He won’t listen. Memory alteration is something he could never do.
Go. I would very much like to write for myself. Can’t. Myself don’t inspire me that much. God does. People do. Writers do. Readers, too. I have learned never to envy anyone who writes extremely well even if they are younger than me, a trait that I couldn’t have acquired if not for my lack of word power. I wonder why other people call them crappy, people who are not aware of the risk they take everytime they write. To open themselves up, lie on the operating table, expose their inner soul, not caring whether the examiners will kill or heal. Sacrifice is unreadable by arrogance.
Pray. I’m waiting for Him. I might forever be a wannabe-writer, but that is something that I would really want, and that He would lovely grant.

2005-12-02T20:12:00.000-08:00

grrr...

poetry requires reparation,
raking off rain -

hard.

2005-11-29T19:53:00.000-08:00

this is the recapulation of Mich's headbang party...

(this was taken before the celebration - Loi was already ahead of us...)

2005-11-29T19:50:00.000-08:00

2005-11-29T19:49:00.000-08:00

2005-11-29T19:47:00.000-08:00

2005-11-29T19:46:00.001-08:00

2005-11-29T19:46:00.000-08:00

2005-11-29T19:45:00.000-08:00

(disclaimer: though the visual presentation don't support it, i didn't drink. that's conviction -

but i love them still. we're still on the same boat...)

2005-11-29T19:42:00.000-08:00

while they were bonding, I decided that...

2005-11-29T19:41:00.000-08:00

Ethyl and i would never be friends again...
(so, Rai and I played whatever you call that...while I snatched...but she set aside her sanity afterwards...)

2005-11-29T19:38:00.000-08:00

while they were drinking,

i was battling with the supposed-to-be chicharong bulaklak...

(please, i'm concen - oh, a <picture> shot won't hurt...)

2005-11-29T19:32:00.000-08:00

we were cleansed with flooding tears...

(Rai is straightforward when she's under "the influence" - of ethyl, not something more complex...)

2005-11-29T19:24:00.000-08:00

we were forged with excruciating heat...

(i wonder if these two will ever be...)

2005-11-29T19:21:00.000-08:00

empirical puzzles tried to make us crazy, but to no avail...

(G, i pray that the curse you bestowed upon that cube would be broken...tapusin mo 'yan nursing!)

2005-11-29T19:19:00.000-08:00

crumped together since birth...

2005-11-29T19:15:00.000-08:00

we still help each other out...

(actually, we're trying to calm Eiah: Loi is about to puke on her bed...the last

time that happened, it was horrific - all over Meko...<puke>)

2005-11-29T19:14:00.000-08:00

or just decide to lie down with it, we still manage...

(Loi, don't you realize you're close to getting raped? tsk, tsk, tsk...you're feigning sleep...)

2005-11-29T19:10:00.000-08:00

whether we look at the world from down below, we still manage to smile authentically...

(Go Spurs! Mek and Mich, i swear will all the cowgirl traits I have, I'll find that Spurs pin...)

2005-11-29T19:06:00.000-08:00

eventhough we claim to be God's, we still stumble - but we're STILL holding on...

(understood, Jay. things will turn up for you in His time...

for the meantime, would you PLEASE, for the nth time, stop

bugging me! The chicharong bulaklak looks like angel's breath inklings...)

2005-11-29T19:01:00.000-08:00

thanks to God, long-distance friendship is now a thing of the past...
(so, Rai, pang-ilang picture mo na 'to?haha...

"darating talaga 'yun time na magiging committed ako kay Lord...")

2005-11-29T18:58:00.000-08:00

the war have been neither lost nor won - but hopefully, friendship was retrieved...

("Ikaw, 'di mo ba kami na-miss?" - Rai

G, welcome back...haha...)

2005-11-29T18:54:00.000-08:00

sad to admit that ethyl somehow puts things back where they're supposed to be...

(chinky-eyed reconciliation for Mek and Mich after three rounds of emotional-inducing chemicals)

2005-11-29T18:51:00.000-08:00

wounded at times, but resiliency was born as our eternal company...

("Regardless of what you feel, anong naramdaman mo..." -Eiah)

2005-11-29T18:49:00.000-08:00

trying hard to open our eyes to see... (haha,exemption goes to Loi, as always)

2005-11-29T18:47:00.000-08:00

it's already been etched on the bottom of every bottle: we will level-up - SOON.

2005-11-20T04:31:00.000-08:00

THE HARDSHIPS OF LOVE THAT'S TOO CORNY-LOOKING

the hardest thing for an outsider
to comprehend: God.

the hardest thing for me
to deliver: God's love.

the hardest thing to
answer: God's love for?

the hardest message to accept:
God's love for YOU.

2005-11-11T20:22:00.000-08:00

Rai's here, her 19 units are here, her Eng'g dreams are here - her heart is somewhere, tampered by someone whom she just can't leave there.

My subjects are way beyond their descriptions - nevertheless, I'll take them for what they are.

Cathe and Dennen's advice: marry a guy whose surname's initial is from A-E - your children won't have a torturous time enrolling themselves. And make them take up Tri-Coll courses.

Petitioned for EEE10 (everybody knows this one) and GE1 (Geodetic Eng'g) subjects for lack of better choice. Enrollment disillusions me. Good thing, God didn’t grant me the privelege to sit on an Eng'g electric chair.

Most illegal gamble: pre-rog. Don't hate yourself when you're ID is drawn by the prof - just to be excluded from the hopeful gamblers. God answers prayers of luck in draw lots, so be careful.

Don't commit suicide: don’t stick a gun to your head during pre-enlistment - nobody will pity you.

Apply for Registration Assistant - and observe the vigil of the inferior.

Still, Inspired and Loved.

2005-11-06T21:27:00.000-08:00

Lord, thanks!

Uncredited AH

2005-11-06T20:12:00.000-08:00

got my grades

sad,
i have to let one go

happy,
it's hard to let go

2005-10-07T02:53:00.000-07:00

Bitter ako. Heto ang ginawa ko para sa isang subject na posibleng hindi ma-credit. Bitter pa rin ako. Pero masaya naman dahil binigyan ako ng Diyos ng ganitong kuwento.

Heavenling, Earthling at Meatballs

Nagkagulo ang mga tao sa Lutong Bahay habang tumatakas ang mga Philo Major students na hinipnotyze ni Oble para barilin si Liz. Kinuha ni Maria ang kanyang cellphone at tinawagan ang UPDPD. Nagulantang ang MPs10 group (nagcra-cram ng group project para sa isang alien na guro – ibang kuwento ng pakikipagsapalaran yun) na kinabibilangan nina Max at Michael. Hindi inaasahan ng dalawa ang pangyayaring ito. Wala namang binanggit ang Diyos na mamamatay si Liz nang hindi nalalamang dadalhin niya sa kanyang sinapupunan ang propetang maghahanda sa pagdating ni Kristo. Matagal na nilang binabantayan si Liz (simula pa nang sumabog ang spacecraft nila kasi hindi naman sila sanay gumamit ng spaceship, first and last time na nila yun; pareho rin kay Liz ang kinuhang kurso ni Max, BS MBB; pati ang GE na MPs10 ay pinatulan din niya). Agad-agarang linapitan ni Max si Liz kahit na pinigilan siya ni Michael (bawal kasing hawakan ng mga Heavenlings ang isang Earthling kung ito’y nagaagaw buhay na sa kadahilanang mawawala ang kapangyarihan nilang bumalik sa Heaven). Hinilom ni Max ang sugat ni Liz. Sinabi ni Max kay Liz na huwag niyang babanggitin ito kahit kanino at magkunwaring natapunan na lang siya ng isang kalderong meatballs. Pagkatapos ay tumakbo sila agad ni Michael sa sakayan ng IKOT Jeep (nalimutan nilang may kasalukuyang group meeting sila). Kailanman, hindi dumating ang mga tauhan ng UPDPD (kontrolado kasi sila ni Oble, ang UP master mind sa pagpigil sa pagdating ng propetang tagapaghanda).

Kumalat ang tsismis sa MPs10 class nila tungkol sa “muling pagkabuhay” ni Liz (hindi na nila natapos ang group project – impyerno pag tinalikuran ka ng mga taga-Heaven). Dahil wala silang project, sinabi ng prof na magsulat na lang sila tungkol sa kani-kanilang “Most Memorable Experience”. Tinadtad ng tingin si Liz at Max (magkatabi sila sa klase). Naguguluhan pa rin si Liz tungkol sa kung ano ba talaga si Max (maging si Maria ay hindi na niya kinakausap tungkol dito). Sinabi ng prof na magpalit na sila ng papel para sa workshop. Nagulat si Liz dahil Heavenly alibata ang kanyang nababasa. Sa kanyang kaba, nilagay na lang niya ito sa kanyang bag.

Sinabi ni Michael kay Isabel ang ginawa ni Max. Nagalit ito at sinabing lumipat na lang sila ng eskwelahan sa may Taft. Kakausapin na lang nila ang Diyos na maghanap na lang ng bagong babaeng magdadala sa propetang tagapaghanda sa banda roon (sa kasamahang palad, hindi pa sila kinakausap ng Maykapal simula nang bumagsak ang spaceship nila). Sabi ni Max ay mas lalala ang pagtataka ng mga tao kung lilipat sila agad-agad. Sabi ni Isabel na delikado raw mag-aral sa UP, maraming espiya si Oble. Ngunit sa huli, nagkasundo silang hintayin na lang ang sasabihin ng Diyos.

Sa isang klase nina Liz at Max sa MBB, sinabihan silang tingnan ang cells ng katabi (saktong magkatabi sila). Nag-CR si Max. Tiningnan ni Liz sa ilalim ng microscope ang laway na nakuha niya mula sa stick ng bananacue ni Max. Magkaiba nga sila ng cells. Nagdesisyon siyang kausapin si Max pagkatapos ng pagliligpit ng lumang microscope.

Tinanong ni Liz kung saan galing si Max. Itinuro ni Max ang langit. Tinanong ni Liz kung galling siya sa Sulu. Ngumiti si Max. Tinanong ulit ni Liz na nababakas na ang asar at kaba sa kanyang mukha. Sinabi Max ang katotohanan. Sinabi rin niyang si Oble ang nagtatangkang pumatay sa kanya dahil ito ang inutusan ng Evil Alien para panatiliin ang kawalan ng paniniwala sa Diyos ng mga tao sa UP (hindi na baleng walang naniniwala sa Evil Alien, basta wala ring naniniwala sa Diyos). Naiyak si Liz, hindi dahil sa Heavenling si Max, kundi dahil sa takot sa kanyang mga magulang (conservative ang pamilya niya – hinding-hindi nila matatanggap si Liz pag nabuntis siya, lalo na kung misteryoso ang tatay ng bata).

Mas lumalala ang tsismis tungkol sa insidente sa Lutong Bahay (nabanggit ito sa Kule – blind item ng isang kaklase nila sa MPs10). Si Maria ay naguguluhan na rin kaya naman pinuntahan niya si Liz sa bahay nito sa likod ng Lutong Bahay. Sinabi niyang hindi naman meatball sauce ang nasa uniporme ni Liz kundi dugo. Sa kanyang pangungulit, sinabi rin ni Liz ang katotohanan. Nahimatay si Maria at natabig niya ang kaldero ng meatball sauce. Nagkaroon ng ideya si Liz.

Balak ni Oble na isiwalat ang totoong nangyari sa Lutong Bahay para kantsawan at apihin sila Isabel, Michael at Max ng sangka-UPihan (korny raw kasi ang konsepto ng pagkakaroon ng Diyos). Pinatawag si Liz sa Office of the Chancellor at tiningnan ang kanyang backpack. Nasa kamay na nila ang isinulat ni Max sa MPs10. Nakabahan si Liz, pero nagulat siya nang nakita niyang blanko ang papel. Sinabi ng na-hypnotize na Chancellor na ganoon din daw ang nangyari noong 1960’s, nang may natagpuang isang diary sa kamay ng isang babaeng istudyanteng tumalon umano mula sa ikaapat na palapag ng Engineering building (ibang kuwento ng pakikpagsapalaran) - blanko ang diary pero pareho ng papel, kulay langit.

Mas lalong nagalit si Isabel at Michael sa ginawa ni Max na pagsabi kay Liz. Hindi na nila nahintay ang utos ng Diyos. Inayos na nilang tatlo ang kanilang credentials sa paglipat ng school. Nabalitaan ito ni Liz. Hinatak niya si Maria at hinabol nila sila Isabel sa Parking Lot. Sinabi ni Liz ang kanyang plano. Pumayag si Max. Nagalinlangan si Isabel at Michael pero pumayag na rin sa huli.

Sa U.P. Fair, ikinalat ni Oble ang mga hypnotized barangay tanod para huliin sila Max (nakompirma ng hypnotized Chancellor na pareho ang papel na sinulatan ni Max sa papel ng 1960’s diary). Sinusundan ng mga hypnotized tanod sina Liz at Max. Nagtayo ng booth ang Lutong Bahay. Sampung kaldero ng meatballs ang kanilang inihain. Biglang nagkagulo nang kumanta ang Rivermaya ng “You’ll Be Safe Here” dahil itnulak ni Michael ang yerong pader sa Sunken Garden kaya nakapasok ang mga taong walang ticket. Nagkaroon ng stampede at nagkunwaring natapakan si Maria. Nang humupa ang lahat, linapitan siya ng mga hypnotized tanod. Wala siyang kamalay-malay. Sinigaw ng mga hypnotized tanod na bigyan siya ng tubig. Dahil walang tubig, meatball sauce na lang ang ipinainom nila. Nagkunwaring nabuhay si Maria nang ipinainom sa kanya ang meatball sauce. Nagulat ang mga hypnotized tanod sa nangyari, nagtaka, at humingi ng meatballs. Pagkakain na pagkakain, nagising sila sa katotohanan at nawala ang hypnotism ni Oble. Kumalat ang balitang mahiwaga talaga ang meatballs ng Lutong Bahay. (Bumalik si Oble sa Quezon Hall at nagsisigaw ng mga katagang “What do you want from me?”, parang kay Jeniffer Love Hewitt sa “I Know What You Did Last Summer” hanggang nanigas siya doon).

Nang bumalik na sa concert ang lahat, linapitan ni Max si Liz sa may gilid ng Sunken Garden (kumakanta ng “Huwag na Huwag Mong Sasabihin” si Kitchie). Walang palitan ng mga salita, ngunit ramdam nila ang kalungkutan. Kung alam lang nila ang plano ng Diyos, hindi na sila malulungkot (ibang kuwento ulit ito): sila ang magkakatuluyan. Anak nila ang propetang tagapaghanda. Nagwagi sa kanyang pananahimik ang Diyos. Para naman sa sangka-UPihan, naniwala ang iba, mas nagalit ang karamihan (hindi raw kasi lohikal iyob - esisyon na nila kung maniniwala sila sa Kanya, hindi naman namumuwersa ang Diyos). Nalilito pa rin ito hanggang ngayon.

Hindi nagsalita ang Diyos sa buong buhay nila Max sa UP. Ngunit ang pagluto niya ng meatballs ang nagbago ng lahat.
goya

2005-09-30T02:20:00.000-07:00

and so it is: three subjects off to a colorful end, and another three waiting for the final day of judgment.

i never thought that being a whore on-stage would cause me well.

i haven't confronted my P.E. prof yet - i'll repent first.

i want to start painting already: God, tame my eyes and my hands.

i would want to learn how to pray again - mutely.

2005-09-27T03:43:00.000-07:00

matagal na kaming magkaibigan ni Melody. hindi ko na maalala kung papaano nagyari yun, baka siguro dahil siya ang supplier namin ng mga bulaklak tuwing rinerequire sa misa, o baka naman dahil sadyang wala lang kaming magawa pareho kaya heto, no choice kami.

hindi iyakin si Meko. sa katunayan nga, paminsan-minsan lang siya umiiyak, pag nalalasing, naaalala ang 8-day affair niya, nanunuod ng kesong mga pelikula, o di naman kaya pag binobola lang namin siya.

astig yang si Meko eh. kaya nga tuwang-tuwa ako tuwing nag-aasaran kami niyan, nanlalait ng kapwa tao, tumatawa ng malakas kahit nagsisitalsikan na mga laway namin, nagwawala sa condo nila, kinakaawaan si latog, kumakain na parang wala ng bukas, pinapaiyak namin si Eya kasi kwinekwestyon niya ang taste namin, nakikinig sa walang-kamatayang minamahal niyang si Bamboo, naglalaro ng Ultimate sa kawalanan ng gawain, nagdarasal para sa mga bagay-bagay na wala kaming control, nangagarap na aayos rin ang takbo ng kurso ng mga buhay namin.

haay, astig talaga si Melo.

Farewell

2005-09-26T02:01:00.000-07:00

I would love to go home now. I'll miss myself badly.

I Wonder

2005-09-24T04:57:00.000-07:00

I'm inconsistent. It's obvious.

I can't find the language tha I'm supposed to be at ease with; I can't get myself to write to God everytime I feel like throwing up words; I like Ilocano, Filipino and English; I throw up words in mid-air; I can't define what I feel for a certain person whom I thought to have left not-so-long ago; I haven't shown up for our date with my kids; I think I love "him"; I'm friends with the English medium; I don't feel like eating; I'm ashamed to face my PE2 prof whom I haven't seen for a month; I'm craving for "betamax"; I would very much like to explode on canvas again, given the simple and cheap properties of latex and water; I'm not able to keep a "quiet time" with God; I don't have the guts to finish my letter for "him" eventhough he won't get to read it anyways; I can't text my sister because I think she's petty; I can't text my brother because I'm so used to being cut-off from him; I really miss my Addy; I miss my Lord;

I'm consistent. It's not that obvious.

2005-09-13T19:03:00.000-07:00

"di kami sanay!!!"

2005-09-13T19:00:00.000-07:00

spider...men

2005-09-13T18:58:00.000-07:00

ang mga narcisstic efforts

2005-09-13T18:56:00.000-07:00

we give up - 'di na nga kami tatalon.normal na lang.

2005-09-13T18:54:00.000-07:00

sa piling ni ser defeo

2005-09-13T18:52:00.000-07:00

sa bahay ni Marcos, may mga frustrated soap actors

2005-09-13T18:50:00.000-07:00

spot the tutubi

2005-09-13T18:48:00.000-07:00

bilibid or not - nakakulong pa rin kami sa YuPee...

2005-09-13T18:41:00.000-07:00

senswal dapat - pasaway si ser dax. tsk,tsk.

2005-09-13T18:40:00.001-07:00

rejects ng lumang simbahan

2005-09-13T18:40:00.000-07:00

sa harapan ng kalesa - oo nga ex, 'di halata

Family Tied

2005-09-13T03:09:00.000-07:00

awww...this is too much, Dearest.

First my parents, then my niece, and now my prodigal brother.

Agyaman Nak.

(I'll leave this hanging - it's still on-going)

Flood

2005-09-12T05:53:00.000-07:00

spiritual drought has always been an unpredictable visitor of mine;

evaporating my field as if it has always been flooded with nature's rain,
conquering my land as if it has always bore fruit,
threatening me as if i was a grave threat in the first place -

maybe i am.

drought will heat me up and live me cold.

it's time to get filled.

Sarah Jan Dimabuyu

2005-09-06T23:33:00.000-07:00

salamat sa pagiging 'Master Jedi' ko!

sisikapin kong maging isang makatang Padwan (pagkatapos ng isang dekada...haha).

Pagpalain ka!

May the force be with you.

Mingkei's Dead and Conversing

2005-08-12T19:39:00.000-07:00

my six-day old cat already purred her last. it's weird how she triggered my melodic past to again resonate its melancholy. the moment i saw her, dead and stiff, was the moment that i never thought would stir me to resolve my past.
i never did like cats. they're, ahm, irritatingly noisy. even before i saw Mingkei outside the CMC, i always preferred dogs over them "furry seducing" little creatures. i never thought that i would adopt her, but the moment i saw her was some sort of a divine apparition that made me do the opposite. she still had her eyes closed (newborn, abandoned by her cat mommy) and was crawling aimlessly beside the sewer seal. i honestly thought that God rained cats that day - and this one was for me.
so i nourished her: fed her milk (Spanish, courtesy of our landlady); fixed her bed; woke up every 2am just to check if she's still purring; played deaf towards my boardmates' teasing that she'll be dead soon (and how they would kill her); and prayed to God that she'll survive to see Addy. everything went well. everything was cute, just like Mingkei whouwould slowly open her eyes everytime she cuddles up in the palm of my hand. she's going to survive, i told myself. she's going to die, they told me.
and she did.
i brought her along with me to Eki's home. i don't know if it was the piercing cold that bruised her delicate skin, or probably she wasn't used to travel at all, but the point is she died. weird enough, it happened after i have read my mp10 prof's short stories (which is another story) - particularly about cats dying in their mommy's womb just because some kids were learning how to count carresingly (with kitten fetuses as their academic material). well, i just wished that MIngkei died the same way as they so that i wouldn't have bothered investing a bit of love for cats. but then again, it's not about cats. it's about babies. humans.
i gave her a "proper" burial. i wrapped her in one of my unused pillow case (geometric shapes, courtesy of my Mama), put her in a medical paper bag (antibiotic, courtesy of my aunt), and let her float on the rushing stream just like Moses, with rain playing with me, beside the vet hospital and CFA.i thanked God for her and for the disturbance that she caused. she probably ended up in the sewer - just like some babies who are now residing in the stench, who weren't so lucky to be born and left beside a sewer lid and who were carresed by hands that don't know how to count them as living. their proliferating corpses populates the under ground that is rightfully for human waste only. well, enlighten the people wasted them in the first place.
for MIngkei: who stirred my past to disturb me once again. i wonder if she already sprayed herself with perfume, talking to "them" right now, how her six days were spent, and what is the current state of the sewer. was i enough? what will she say?
meow.
and they would just probably laugh.

Define Worth

2005-08-10T06:28:00.000-07:00

man, applying for these self-inducted premiere orgs is a charismatic drag. i want to quit, but then again i'd rather not. i have no idea about why i'm pursuing my application - but i'm still running the enigmatic race. what i'll get form them, i don't know. all i know is i'm having fun while paining myself.

CASAA day for SPECA apps has just passed by (thanks, God!). we made a pretty job of humiliating ourselves and disturbing people at their lunch. we entertained them, we could tell by the smile in their faces (more of a smirk, I guess). the dance - well, we danced. let's live it at that.

i'm Cineaste's hyped. i really want to be a scriptwriter. again, i have no idea, but all i know is that's what i want.

Melvin, Melvin, Melvin. I really love this guy: his messages do help me a lot. "i want a life more than sleep". aw, i don't know why that line captured me. but i really thank God for him.

Jesus really did humble Himself to the extremities. God's message (delivered thru "him") comforted me BIG TIME. in the midst of all this hassle and doubt, Jesus' humility seems to make my life more meaningful. now, i know that others are waaay better than me: writing, playing disc, acads, color combi, etc. but i'm happy that God gives me a taste of everything. after all, He is the source.

i don't know, i don't know, i don't know: what will happen tomorrow, why i'm writing a snap preview of my day (and why this particular day), what expenses will exhaust my finances, will i be able to live to see Addy's 60th birthday...so many things while time's running fast.

i guess God really wants us back home as soon as possible. everything's worth it.

Labingapat Dapat - mga tulang sabog

2005-08-09T11:34:00.000-07:00

ang galing ni Lord. "Empeeten" pa ang ginamit niyang guro para makapagsulat ako sa Filipino. Astig talaga.

ang hirap gumawa ng tula. iba pala ang nagagawa ng kaba at takot nang babagsak muli, o 'di naman kaya makakuha ng nakakaiyak na grado. buti na lang nagising ako ng 'di ko pagkuha sa tugmang isahan. kahit kailan, 'di ko malilimutan ang dalawang salitang iyon.

dapat labingapat na tula sila na magagawa sa loob ng dalawang linggo. eh kaso suntok sa buwan para sa akin 'yun. hindi pa tapos ang iba. tinatahi pa lang. inabot ako ng tatlong linggo - malamang magiging isang buwan pa. ang mahalaga:kahit papaano, marunong na akong magsulat sa Filipino - isang dalangin na ngayon lang napagbigyan. may pag-asa pa akong nararamdaman.

salamat sa Empeeten (kay ser vlad na nagmistulang pastor namin sa Filipino, sa mga kaklase kong [jamie, jedi, luchi, bevz, maiden, chino, tanya, ryan, olops, mark, sa pinaghingan namin ni jamie ng glue, etc.] naging sunud-sunuran naman), kay Sarj sa gagawing pagwasto, kay Addy, sa DG ko, Stillwaters, CCC, Ate Melai dahil sa laptop, mga boardmates ko, tindahan sa may acad oval (saan ko kayo hahagilapin pagkatapos ng ika-30 ng Septyembre?), sa mga magulang kong sobrang nagmamahal sa akin - at sa Diyos (alam Niyo na po iyon). andami kong pinasalamatan - malamang may kinalaman kayo dito.

ang daming sablay - sa grammar, sa spelling, sa content. hindi pa ito naiiwawasto nang kahit sino. birhen pa. ipapawasto ko kay Sarj, kay Ser, at kung sino pang makikilala kong makata (silang dalawa pa lang ang may kredibilidad sa akin eh). kahit lahat man sila pangit sa mata ng isang makata, pumapatak pa rin ang luha ko sa tuwa dahil nagawa ko sila.

masaya na ako 'dun.

Tuta.

Tulya.

Palagay ko, tataas pa ang bilang nito.

Labingapat pataas.

Dishwalla---Counting Blue Cars

2005-08-06T03:52:00.000-07:00

*hm, i learned to love God beyond the question of gender.

Must of been mid afternoon
I could tell by how far
the child's shadow stretched out and
He walked with a purpose
In his sneakers, down the street
He had, many questions
Like children often do
He said,
Tell me all your thoughts on God
Tell me am I very far?

Must of been late afternoon
On our way the sun broke free of the clouds
We count only blue cars
Skip the cracks, in the street
And ask many questions
Like children often do
We said,
Tell me all your thoughts on God
'Cause I would really like to meet her.
And ask her why we're who we are.

Tell me all your thoughts on God,
Cause I am on my way to see her.
So tell me am I very far - Am I very far now?

Its getting cold picked up the pace
How our shoes make hard noises in this place
Our clothes are stained
We pass many, cross eyed people
And ask many questions
Like children often do

Tell me all your thoughts on God
'Cause I would really like to meet her.
And ask her why we're who we are.
Tell me all your thoughts on God?
'Cause I am on my way to see her.
So tell me am I very far?
Am I very far now
Am I very far now
Am I very far now

Not Quite - but quite

2005-08-06T03:18:00.000-07:00

I'm quite done with the Filipino poems. Two weeks wasn't enough - and so is three.
But finally, I have the hope of finishing what I started.

Salamat sa Empeeten - sa prof ko na nagtapos bilang suma cum laude ng BA Malikhaing Pagpapatawa , sa mga kaklase ko na may mas natutunan sa subjet na 'to kaysa sa akin, at sa silid 436 na excercise instructor ko kada umaga ng Lunes at Huwebes (maliban lang kung walang pasok). 'Di pa tapos ang subject na 'to, pero ngayon pa lang nagpapasalamat na ako. Ang laking tulong niya sa akin sa pagsusulat sa Filipino - ah, hindi pala. Sa katunayan, ITO LANG ang nagturo sakin na magsulat sa Wikang nawiwirdohan ako noon. Buti na lang mahal ko mga magulang ko, nakaramdam na medyo madedehado ako dito, at nadagukan ng pangarap kong magsulat. Iba talaga ang nagagawa ng ambition.

Now that I somehow accomplished my "Filipino trip", I'm going back to writing English poems. It seems that I have already forgotten how, but the realization that I am a Filipino writing in English will change the order of my words dramatically. Seventeen poems in one month - starting on the thirteenth of August.

I'm game.

sumusulat para saan?

2005-07-26T22:41:00.000-07:00

para sa Kanya.

malapit na.

Astig pala mag-Filipino

2005-07-18T23:57:00.000-07:00

bakit ngayon ko lang nalaman?!

masarap pala paglaruan ang lenguaheng ginagamit ko,
'di ko man lang napansin noon.
nag-iinarte kasi ako noong matutunan ang pasikot-sikot
ng salitang Ingles - mas madali kasing maintindihan at
magsalin ng saloobin pag 'yun ang gamit.
pakiramdam ko, ang mga makata lang ang may karapatan
sa Filipino - 'yun tipong may kalaliman.
akala ko kung balbal ang Filipino mo, wala ka nang
karapatang magsulat -

malamang ganoon nga. pero susubok pa rin ako -

dehado ako sa MP10 (hayop sa lupit ng subject na 'yun -
tugmaan lang 'di ko pa nakuha). ayaw ko namang masayang ang P900
ng mga magulang ko para sa subject na 'to dahil lang sa hindi ako masipag
mag-Filipino. mukhang sa subject lang na 'to
ako posibleng pumalya - pinangako ko pa man 'din
sa kanila na aarangkada ako ngayong sem. nakakahiya naman sa kanila -
at sa P900 nila.

kaya napagtripan kong sumulat ng labing-apat na tula sa loob ng dalawang linggo.

magagawa ko kaya?

dudugo muna ilong ko - pero ayos lang, ganoon naman ata
talaga ang pagiging isang Pilipino -

Madugo.

The Unexpected Battle

2005-07-11T23:35:00.000-07:00

It’s weird how things go: one moment you’re minding your own business, the next you’re concern about somebody else’s. Unfortunately, they have a term for that – “crush”.

I do have one.

Bad Trip.

Lord,

he’s way beyond my reach:
accelerated in all the sense of the word, we’re close – but i’d rather be closer to banish the feeling
he’s invading that part:
he resides temporarily in that miniscule space that no one permanently owns – and might probably stay a bit longer than i’ve anticipated
he’s kind:
everyone is. but the effort he’s unconsciously showing to illuminate my day somehow makes him kinder than the rest.
he’s extreme:
everyone is – but his is a rare case of wit.
he needs to go:
so he could permanently stay with me.

We’ve been through a lot, Dearest. You, of all being, know how vulnerable i am to people like him:

how guilt sometimes dissects my brain because i uncontrollably think of him;
how simple gestures and conversations can invade my memory and make me dumbfounded with this being;
how hard i try to eliminate this feeling, but on the contrary, it gets stronger as i fight;
how weak i often feel because i can’t fight him, and the thought that maybe i want him to stay makes it even worse;
how down i usually become because i’m not the only one who takes notice of his radiance;
how sometimes he invades the space that’s rightfully mine;
how i look up to him because he looks down to me;
how he makes me write anywhere, about anything, and about him;
how i sometimes find myself praying for him, wishing hard that he knows You;

how i wish that i can talk to him beyond the reason of acquaintance and just ask him straight to the point if he really believes in You;
how i wish hard that You will take him away from me because i am clueless of what to do at the moment;
how i wish hard that You’ll just give him to somebody else, to someone who can properly introduce You to him;
how i wish that the blood of the confused won’t be blamed against us, because i am afraid to speak up;
how i wish that he’ll just wake up one morning to find out that You love him more than anyone else could, because You created him perfectly;
how i wish that he’ll find out for himself that he loves You, and that his God-given void will finally be satisfied;
how i wish that time will just do what it does best: slip away, because i am not certain of what will happen if I dwell on this a little longer;
how i wish that he’ll love You above all – so he can finally learn to love others and himself without fear;

how i pray that i could just be honest with You and with myself, even if it’s just a fragment of time, I’ll admit that maybe he’s not just a crush –

i love him.

maybe.

Jesus, thank you for making me love You above everything else. And about him, I’m confident in You.

This is just one of those bad trips that i’d rather take because it will make me feel a whole lot better.

Blood is Bleeding

2005-06-27T05:10:00.000-07:00

why do i always seek?
tendency is to look at who's there
forgetting 'bout who's not
finding someone who doesn't
want to be found is difficult-
does he know his lost in the first place?
i'm praying that blood might get his attention,
that ancestry might remind him of how
relationships in the family run
is it my fault or his?
did mistakes of the past taught him anything at all,
or is he still waiting for darkness to fall?
missing him is a sign that i still acknowledge the fact beyond the biological,
that he is more than the partition of flesh and blood
i'm still hoping, painstakingly praying
that he might be awaken by the Being
he has put to sleep in the darkest corners
what will come next - i am clueless,
for my brother is givng no more clues.
prodigal?i just pray that he'll come back.

Amen.