CLOSE TO YOU
words & music
by mike villegas
there's nothing i won't try
just to make you mine
to get a little closer
would be so divine
and everytime i see you
you make me come undone
i always watch you near me
in you i found the one
CHORUS
oh why don't you smile
my only star
shine on baby
smile my only star
smile my only star (2x)
with you by my side
girl it feels so right and
now that i'm close to you
i could stay all night/
no matter where i go
no matter what i do
in the end your smile
brings me back to you
you shine so true
i can't believe you're mine
and everything
may change but to me
you'll always shine
Monday, January 23, 2006
Monday, January 16, 2006
Home
Me, Dana Batnag, a former professor, Joyce, and Tina.
Last Saturday, January 14, was a chance to go back to my college, the College of Mass Communications (CMC). It was a reunion of some sort, in preparation for the college's 40th anniversary in 2007.
It's headlined "Tawag Ka Ni Aling Suming!". This proved to be quite effective, at least to those of us who knew about the event and attended it. How could we refuse her?
But, as it turned out, Aling Suming was not there. But there was a short video clip of her message. The event was, at best, nostalgic. I don't think there's ever one masscomm student without an anecdote about Aling Sums. Mine was when I called her way past office hours and at home to check on my average, if it made the laude cut (which it did). To me, it showed her dedication and devotion to the students of the college, to which we are forever grateful.
T.P., a fellow alumni, related how she would remind her of her P.E. subject. L.A., even said, Aling Suming knew of that time when she broke up with her b.f. at that time, D.B., who was also with us during the homecoming.
But seeing Aling Suming again was a bonus. The homecoming was a (literal) trip to memory lane and a chance to relive our days of decadence back when.
P.C., D.B., and L.A. each won a bottle of red wine during the raffle. D.B. thought it would be nice to drink them in the premises of the college. So we did along with O.C.
After dinner at Treehouse at the ISSI, we trooped to the college once again, at around 7 p.m. or 8 p.m. P.C was able to borrow a glass from no less the admin office (a consent to the act, obviously, hehehehe). Music was provided by D.B. via his laptop.
All of us are working in the same station so we seized the time to catch up on the latest what-have-yous.
Between shots (yeah, we had to pass the lone glass around) of red wine, were anecdotes about the college, former professors, and work. It was a good experience to unwind, to find one's bearing again, to be reminded of where we all came from.
It was like returning home. In our life journeys, it's easy to lose sight of what we really had wanted. To lose sight of the ultimate dreams of our lives. It's easier still to be sidetracked, to lose courage, to surrender.
Home, in whatever form or denomination, always reminds us of who we are, and what we are capable of.
Friday, January 13, 2006
Dreams
What is this they say about dreams? That they are your subconscious speaking?
Last night, I dreamt of you. I was watching a European TV news program where you were featured. Wide shot first of your ship. And then various sitners (situationers). Then the camera zoomed in on you. Then you flashed that smile. Ah, that smile: the crinkled nose, the slit eyes, your beaming teeth.
And then the feelings crashed in like tidal waves.
Do I miss you?
I deny and yet manifest it.
Last night, I dreamt of you. I was watching a European TV news program where you were featured. Wide shot first of your ship. And then various sitners (situationers). Then the camera zoomed in on you. Then you flashed that smile. Ah, that smile: the crinkled nose, the slit eyes, your beaming teeth.
And then the feelings crashed in like tidal waves.
Do I miss you?
I deny and yet manifest it.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Suppose
Suppose, I look into your eyes like I did last night, will you discern what is hidden?
Suppose, I stretch out my hand, will you grab it, like a helpless survivor in the middle of the ocean?
I lean back against the wall, supposing, and wait for you, will you sit beside me?
If a shooting star crosses, will you be there to hold my hand?
Suppose, I don't tell you what I want to tell you, will you still know?
Words, sometimes, deny intentions.
Will you be comforted, by my silence?
Suppose, I stretch out my hand, will you grab it, like a helpless survivor in the middle of the ocean?
I lean back against the wall, supposing, and wait for you, will you sit beside me?
If a shooting star crosses, will you be there to hold my hand?
Suppose, I don't tell you what I want to tell you, will you still know?
Words, sometimes, deny intentions.
Will you be comforted, by my silence?
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Winter
In the winter, I was told in a story when I was little, some Earth creatures hibernate. They prefer to let the harsh winter wreak its havoc on nature. It's neither escape nor surrender.
When the snow thaws and the sun shines, they are back on their feet, resuming and claiming the lives they ought to live.
When the snow thaws and the sun shines, they are back on their feet, resuming and claiming the lives they ought to live.
Monday, January 09, 2006
Read this on New York Times.
All things are ephemeral. We are pained and wounds heal.
'Spell "World" Backward'
By BERNARD COOPER
Published: January 8, 2006
The last place my increasingly forgetful 85-year-old father wanted to be was sitting beside me in the office of a geriatric specialist. The doctor leaned forward at her desk and locked eyes with my father. "Has it been difficult for you to remember things recently, Mr. Cooper?"
"I'm fine," he said.
"I'm sure you are," she said. "But if we test you today, we'll have a base line to compare against
future tests."
"Future tests?" He looked as if he'd tasted something sour.
"I'm going to ask you several questions," she continued, "and I'd like you to answer them one at a time."
"How else would I?"
"How else would you what?"
"Answer them, for Christ's sake!"
The doctor jotted a note. "We'll be working from what's called the Mini-Mental State Examination," she explained, "and I'll score your answers as we go along."
Dad adjusted his Miracle-Ear. "So test me, already."
First she asked my father to tell her the date. I silently answered along. He got it right. I was off by a couple of days. I scooted my chair closer. Now I had something to prove. I felt as if my father and I were opponents on a quiz show.
"What state are we in?" "City?" "Hospital?" "Floor?"
Not until she whispered "Bernard" did I realize that I'd been muttering answers under my breath. But I was sure my father hadn't heard me. And anyway, I got them right. Dad, on the other hand, didn't know what floor we were on. But he probably would have known it was the third if he had been the one to push the elevator button instead of me. The mechanics of recall are delicate, so iffy and contingent.
My father lowered his head and laced his fingers together in his lap. He had the shamed, inward look of a man who knows he has blundered but doesn't know how.
"Mr. Cooper?" she asked. "Are you ready to continue?"
My father nodded. His head seemed heavy, as if with answers that would soon elude him.
"Spell 'world' backward," the doctor said.
"Why 'world'?" Dad asked, peering over his glasses.
Because the world is backward, I said to myself. Laws are repealed. Iron rusts. Logic unravels.
"I suggest you don't overthink the questions, Mr. Cooper. Just try to relax and let the answers come."
Dad deliberated on every letter. "D. . .L. . .O. . .
R. . .W?"
She recorded his score. "Now, please repeat the following list of items in the same order: Apple, penny, table."
My father cocked his head. "Did I get it right?"
"You haven't repeated the items yet."
"Not those," he said. "'World.' Did I get it backward?"
"Ask me at the end of the test."
"Suppose I forget?"
"We should move on to the next question," the doctor insisted. "Now, kindly repeat after me: Apple, penny, table."
"Why can't you tell me now?"
"Apple, penny, table," she persisted
"Apple," he said at last. "The rest I forget." He dismissed his insufficient recall with a wave of his hand, but he looked at me to gauge how he was doing. I smiled noncommittally back.
Next she held up her pen. "Can you tell me what this is?"
"A ballpoint," he said. "Does it have your motto on it?"
The doctor told him that men and women in her profession didn't, as a rule, have mottos. Then she noticed that there were, in fact, words printed on the side of the pen. She held it horizontally and squinted. "Hot Water Management Service," she read. "Where could this have come from?"
Was the question part of the test?
"Pens are everywhere these days," Dad said. "But what the hell is a Hot Water Management Service?"
We hadn't a single answer among us, not a guess or a speculation. The doctor continued to gaze at the pen, turning it as if she might find other phrases. Beyond the hospital window, the sky above the city deepened into dusk. The office walls dimmed, our faces growing vague. A clock ticked on the desk, and I felt in my bones that the three of us, second by second, were being drawn toward a vast and eventual forgetting. Nothing we could do or say would stop it. One day this room wouldn't be remembered by anyone now sitting in it.
Bernard Cooper is the author of the memoir "The Bill From My Father," to be published next month by Simon & Schuster and from which this essay is adapted.
All things are ephemeral. We are pained and wounds heal.
'Spell "World" Backward'
By BERNARD COOPER
Published: January 8, 2006
The last place my increasingly forgetful 85-year-old father wanted to be was sitting beside me in the office of a geriatric specialist. The doctor leaned forward at her desk and locked eyes with my father. "Has it been difficult for you to remember things recently, Mr. Cooper?"
"I'm fine," he said.
"I'm sure you are," she said. "But if we test you today, we'll have a base line to compare against
future tests."
"Future tests?" He looked as if he'd tasted something sour.
"I'm going to ask you several questions," she continued, "and I'd like you to answer them one at a time."
"How else would I?"
"How else would you what?"
"Answer them, for Christ's sake!"
The doctor jotted a note. "We'll be working from what's called the Mini-Mental State Examination," she explained, "and I'll score your answers as we go along."
Dad adjusted his Miracle-Ear. "So test me, already."
First she asked my father to tell her the date. I silently answered along. He got it right. I was off by a couple of days. I scooted my chair closer. Now I had something to prove. I felt as if my father and I were opponents on a quiz show.
"What state are we in?" "City?" "Hospital?" "Floor?"
Not until she whispered "Bernard" did I realize that I'd been muttering answers under my breath. But I was sure my father hadn't heard me. And anyway, I got them right. Dad, on the other hand, didn't know what floor we were on. But he probably would have known it was the third if he had been the one to push the elevator button instead of me. The mechanics of recall are delicate, so iffy and contingent.
My father lowered his head and laced his fingers together in his lap. He had the shamed, inward look of a man who knows he has blundered but doesn't know how.
"Mr. Cooper?" she asked. "Are you ready to continue?"
My father nodded. His head seemed heavy, as if with answers that would soon elude him.
"Spell 'world' backward," the doctor said.
"Why 'world'?" Dad asked, peering over his glasses.
Because the world is backward, I said to myself. Laws are repealed. Iron rusts. Logic unravels.
"I suggest you don't overthink the questions, Mr. Cooper. Just try to relax and let the answers come."
Dad deliberated on every letter. "D. . .L. . .O. . .
R. . .W?"
She recorded his score. "Now, please repeat the following list of items in the same order: Apple, penny, table."
My father cocked his head. "Did I get it right?"
"You haven't repeated the items yet."
"Not those," he said. "'World.' Did I get it backward?"
"Ask me at the end of the test."
"Suppose I forget?"
"We should move on to the next question," the doctor insisted. "Now, kindly repeat after me: Apple, penny, table."
"Why can't you tell me now?"
"Apple, penny, table," she persisted
"Apple," he said at last. "The rest I forget." He dismissed his insufficient recall with a wave of his hand, but he looked at me to gauge how he was doing. I smiled noncommittally back.
Next she held up her pen. "Can you tell me what this is?"
"A ballpoint," he said. "Does it have your motto on it?"
The doctor told him that men and women in her profession didn't, as a rule, have mottos. Then she noticed that there were, in fact, words printed on the side of the pen. She held it horizontally and squinted. "Hot Water Management Service," she read. "Where could this have come from?"
Was the question part of the test?
"Pens are everywhere these days," Dad said. "But what the hell is a Hot Water Management Service?"
We hadn't a single answer among us, not a guess or a speculation. The doctor continued to gaze at the pen, turning it as if she might find other phrases. Beyond the hospital window, the sky above the city deepened into dusk. The office walls dimmed, our faces growing vague. A clock ticked on the desk, and I felt in my bones that the three of us, second by second, were being drawn toward a vast and eventual forgetting. Nothing we could do or say would stop it. One day this room wouldn't be remembered by anyone now sitting in it.
Bernard Cooper is the author of the memoir "The Bill From My Father," to be published next month by Simon & Schuster and from which this essay is adapted.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
The Year for Librans
Libra: Sep. 23 - Oct. 22
Since your amenable Venus ruler visits every sign in 2006, you’ll have a shot at everyone, primarily, for the first two months, a respectable Capricorn. Romance and/or recreation with an Aquarius in March, partnering with an Aries in May, traveling with a congenial companion in June and bonding with your boss in the summer. Save October for your self; that’s when Venus, passionate Mars and the creative sun get together in your sign. As for finances, not to worry; protective Jupiter has your money house covered.
from VillageVoice.
Since your amenable Venus ruler visits every sign in 2006, you’ll have a shot at everyone, primarily, for the first two months, a respectable Capricorn. Romance and/or recreation with an Aquarius in March, partnering with an Aries in May, traveling with a congenial companion in June and bonding with your boss in the summer. Save October for your self; that’s when Venus, passionate Mars and the creative sun get together in your sign. As for finances, not to worry; protective Jupiter has your money house covered.
from VillageVoice.
Monday, December 26, 2005
Fully Empowered
That's Pablo Neruda's book (translated by Alastair Reid) which is the nth gift for myself. And this is where I'm taking my cue for what I'm going to do in 2006: re-start, begin again, but not without remembering lessons learned. Like mantra, the poem, "Past" shall be my guide.
Past
Pablo Neruda
We have to discard the past
and, as one builds
floor by floor, window by window,
and the building rises,
so do we keep shedding --
first, broken tiles,
then proud doors,
until, from the past,
dust falls
as if it would crash
against the floor,
smoke rises
as if it were on fire,
and each new day
gleams
like an empty
plate.
There is nothing, there was always nothing.
It all has to be filled
with a new, expanding
fruitfulness;
then, down
falls yesterday
as in a well
falls yesterday's water,
into the cistern
of all that is now without a voice, without fire.
It is difficult
to get bones used
to disappearing,
to teach eyes
to close,
but
we do it
unwittingly.
Everything was alive,
alive, alive,alive
like a scarlet fish,
but time
passed with cloth and darkness
and kept wiping away
the flash of the fish.
Water water water,
the past goes on falling
although it keeps a grip
on thorns
and on roots.
It went, it went, and now
memories mean nothing.
Now the heavy eyelid
shut out the light of the eye
and what was once alive
is now no longer living;
what we were, we are not.
And with words, although the letters
still have transparency and sound,
they change, and the mouth changes;
the same mouth is now another mouth;
they change, lips, skin, circulation;
another soul took on our skeleton;
what once was in us now is not.
It left, but if they call, we reply
"I am here," and we realize we are not,
that what was once, was and is lost,
lost in the past, and now does not come back.
Past
Pablo Neruda
We have to discard the past
and, as one builds
floor by floor, window by window,
and the building rises,
so do we keep shedding --
first, broken tiles,
then proud doors,
until, from the past,
dust falls
as if it would crash
against the floor,
smoke rises
as if it were on fire,
and each new day
gleams
like an empty
plate.
There is nothing, there was always nothing.
It all has to be filled
with a new, expanding
fruitfulness;
then, down
falls yesterday
as in a well
falls yesterday's water,
into the cistern
of all that is now without a voice, without fire.
It is difficult
to get bones used
to disappearing,
to teach eyes
to close,
but
we do it
unwittingly.
Everything was alive,
alive, alive,alive
like a scarlet fish,
but time
passed with cloth and darkness
and kept wiping away
the flash of the fish.
Water water water,
the past goes on falling
although it keeps a grip
on thorns
and on roots.
It went, it went, and now
memories mean nothing.
Now the heavy eyelid
shut out the light of the eye
and what was once alive
is now no longer living;
what we were, we are not.
And with words, although the letters
still have transparency and sound,
they change, and the mouth changes;
the same mouth is now another mouth;
they change, lips, skin, circulation;
another soul took on our skeleton;
what once was in us now is not.
It left, but if they call, we reply
"I am here," and we realize we are not,
that what was once, was and is lost,
lost in the past, and now does not come back.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Merry Christmas Everyone!
Tuwing Pasko, malamig, para mas maramdaman ang init ng yakap ng mga mahal/minamahal. Mas mahaba rin ang gabi, para mas masarap ang inuman at kwentuhan. Uso si Santa at mga anghel, para matandaan na walang limitasyon ang imahinasyon para sa ating kahilingan. Panahon ito ng pasasalamat sa mga pinagdaanan at natutunan kahawak ang kamay ng kaibigan, sinta, ina, ama, anak, kapatid, kabiyak.
Maligayang Pasko sa Inyong Lahat!
---
Postcript
A friend, Claire, surprised me with a text all the way from Australia. ;P Wishes me that I can find the person who will take of me, finally.
No Claire, it's not intrusion. That's the best thing one can ask for anyone: the warmth of being loved.
I wish you, and all of my friends, that we all will be safe and warm in the arms of our loved ones.
Merry Christmas! :)
Maligayang Pasko sa Inyong Lahat!
---
Postcript
A friend, Claire, surprised me with a text all the way from Australia. ;P Wishes me that I can find the person who will take of me, finally.
No Claire, it's not intrusion. That's the best thing one can ask for anyone: the warmth of being loved.
I wish you, and all of my friends, that we all will be safe and warm in the arms of our loved ones.
Merry Christmas! :)
My Stars Say
Mercury Square Mars with an orb between 1 and 3 degrees Since you tend to be rather irritable and sharp-tongued at times you require a partner with a sense of humor who is not too thin-skinned. You are bright, curious and restless and enjoy the company of those who are equally high-spirited and enterprising.
Sun Conjunct Pluto with an orb between 3 and 5 degrees Power struggles plague your relationships. Either you become the dominant partner out of a fear of being controlled or you become very passive, controlling indirectly through guilt or manipulation. Your father may have been emotionally abusive to you.
Mercury Quintile Jupiter with an orb between 1 and 3 degrees You have a quality people trust and you are often sought after as a confidante or an advisor. You have high moral and ethical standards and it is imperative that anyone you're close to is a person of the highest integrity. You prefer well-educated people.
Sun Conjunct Pluto with an orb between 3 and 5 degrees Power struggles plague your relationships. Either you become the dominant partner out of a fear of being controlled or you become very passive, controlling indirectly through guilt or manipulation. Your father may have been emotionally abusive to you.
Mercury Quintile Jupiter with an orb between 1 and 3 degrees You have a quality people trust and you are often sought after as a confidante or an advisor. You have high moral and ethical standards and it is imperative that anyone you're close to is a person of the highest integrity. You prefer well-educated people.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Like I Don't Know (Hahahaha)
You're an ENTP
ENTP
Ok. Ready? You like to chase the novel and complex. You have faith in your ability to overcome any challenges you face...highly independent...value adaptability and innovation...you encourage and value change...
You need freedom for action...you resist hierarchy and structure...you push against all odds to further your projects with your entrepreneurial tendencies...you can argue and find the flaws in any position...
How'm I doing so far? You rarely accept things just as they are...you like to test new meanings and relationships..when you don't get what you want, you use your cleverness and ingenuity to bring people around to your point of view...when you choose a career, you tend to set flexible goals that allow you to incorporate new information and accommodate to new circumstances...
"Keep your options open" is your middle name... you like to explore the "road not taken." Your flexibility can look like indecision to others who don't have a clue about you..you take advantage of opportunities...you realize potential of many things because of your ability to see connections and relationships between SEEMINGLY unrelated things...you cannot be ordered around, but rather handle things best when they are *suggestions*....like posting more on the Storm Palace BBS you love excitement...
Competence is key to you.. you don't take advice or respect someone you don't see as competent...you want work to be enjoyable..you're a relentless learner. Knowledge is important to you...you use your enthusiasm to get others involved in your learning...you learn through give-and-take discussions and by questioning and challenging others....you like challenging your teachers and colleagues...limitations are mere challenges to you...you take initiative, and once the ball is rolling, you like to turn it over to someone else...
You like to organize logically and strategically....your work space might not LOOK organized, but underneath it all is a system that works for you. You like to have an impact...you need a job that allows you to be innovative. you like to take risks and explore...an open calendar for the weekend is really appealing...you're often "in on the latest things..."...you like travel, 'cause it allows you to open up new vistas and horizons (corny, huh?).
Falling in love happens when there's a good "fit" with another person...you often know after the first meeting whether there's any "real potential"... you may not like to commit until that right person comes along...therefore you probably won't settle down early...you don't like to lose at ANYthing you undertake...you're a born enterpriser...
Things to be on guard for: you have a great fear of looking dumb or incomp- etent..you may tend to think you have the perfect solutions for problems, and may become competitive when others challenge you... you might start to think that you're the only one who's in on the truth of things, so you might not like to listen to the input of others...you may have the tendency to overextend yourself as you jump in on lots of ideas without considering how long it takes to work 'em through... commit to too many projects? ...you are a rebel.. you find it difficult to accept standard operating procedures.. and hate HAVING to follow exact rules or policies...learn to work within the system.
ENTP: "Each New Thought Propels"
from this website.
ENTP
Ok. Ready? You like to chase the novel and complex. You have faith in your ability to overcome any challenges you face...highly independent...value adaptability and innovation...you encourage and value change...
You need freedom for action...you resist hierarchy and structure...you push against all odds to further your projects with your entrepreneurial tendencies...you can argue and find the flaws in any position...
How'm I doing so far? You rarely accept things just as they are...you like to test new meanings and relationships..when you don't get what you want, you use your cleverness and ingenuity to bring people around to your point of view...when you choose a career, you tend to set flexible goals that allow you to incorporate new information and accommodate to new circumstances...
"Keep your options open" is your middle name... you like to explore the "road not taken." Your flexibility can look like indecision to others who don't have a clue about you..you take advantage of opportunities...you realize potential of many things because of your ability to see connections and relationships between SEEMINGLY unrelated things...you cannot be ordered around, but rather handle things best when they are *suggestions*....like posting more on the Storm Palace BBS you love excitement...
Competence is key to you.. you don't take advice or respect someone you don't see as competent...you want work to be enjoyable..you're a relentless learner. Knowledge is important to you...you use your enthusiasm to get others involved in your learning...you learn through give-and-take discussions and by questioning and challenging others....you like challenging your teachers and colleagues...limitations are mere challenges to you...you take initiative, and once the ball is rolling, you like to turn it over to someone else...
You like to organize logically and strategically....your work space might not LOOK organized, but underneath it all is a system that works for you. You like to have an impact...you need a job that allows you to be innovative. you like to take risks and explore...an open calendar for the weekend is really appealing...you're often "in on the latest things..."...you like travel, 'cause it allows you to open up new vistas and horizons (corny, huh?).
Falling in love happens when there's a good "fit" with another person...you often know after the first meeting whether there's any "real potential"... you may not like to commit until that right person comes along...therefore you probably won't settle down early...you don't like to lose at ANYthing you undertake...you're a born enterpriser...
Things to be on guard for: you have a great fear of looking dumb or incomp- etent..you may tend to think you have the perfect solutions for problems, and may become competitive when others challenge you... you might start to think that you're the only one who's in on the truth of things, so you might not like to listen to the input of others...you may have the tendency to overextend yourself as you jump in on lots of ideas without considering how long it takes to work 'em through... commit to too many projects? ...you are a rebel.. you find it difficult to accept standard operating procedures.. and hate HAVING to follow exact rules or policies...learn to work within the system.
ENTP: "Each New Thought Propels"
from this website.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Last Christmas
Let us count the days past by way of memories collected:
Last Christmas ... R. first met the object of her desire.
This Christmas, she's trying to forget him.
Last Christmas ... I was reeling from a break-up.
This Christmas, though with a few shards from the past, I'm, at least, getting there.
Last Christmas, T.P. invited me to her house to celebrate Christmas there (I was, unfortunately, on duty last year).
This Christmas, we have at least three more friends to celebrate the yuletide season with.
Last Christmas, I don't know if I know N. already.
This Christmas, well, he's been missing in action. (Hehehehe) Hopefully in the arms of his beloved.
Last Christmas, K., well, hasn't won the P1-M challenge yet.
This Christmas, she has, a beautiful home with whom she will share all the new memories of love and giving, everything else that money can't buy, with J. and J.
Between last Christmas and this year's, it's in the gap where we carefully tread to forge new friendships, renew and push on to better ourselves.
There's something magical about Christmases, that's why I use them as landmarks of personal progress. The point after all, of life, is to celebrate, the memories shared with those that crossed our lives.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Gazebo
The wind gently blows eastward, where you are tonight.
In my peripheral view, I look for you, thinking you are sitting far from where I am. Hopefully, the glass walls in front of me will at least reveal your silhouette. But you are not there.
I look behind me and find you. Three steps are all that separate us.
The wind gently blows eastward. I take a puff. I let the smoke escape, gently, from my lips to yours.
In my peripheral view, I look for you, thinking you are sitting far from where I am. Hopefully, the glass walls in front of me will at least reveal your silhouette. But you are not there.
I look behind me and find you. Three steps are all that separate us.
The wind gently blows eastward. I take a puff. I let the smoke escape, gently, from my lips to yours.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
There Are Days
There are days such as this one when all you want to do is hibernate, or escape. The former, is more preferable but not possible considering my job. Escape, well, yeah, maybe in the form of a trip to the movie house or a haircut or shopping. Or all three of them.
I wanna tell you a story. I'm sure you've experienced it one time or another. But I'm certain you've met their kind:
A fly is sitting atop a carabao. And suddenly he thinks he's bigger. The fly kept on yacking and yacking and yacking 'til a bird pooped on the carabao's back. Finally, a reminder of where he has been.
I wanna tell you a story. I'm sure you've experienced it one time or another. But I'm certain you've met their kind:
A fly is sitting atop a carabao. And suddenly he thinks he's bigger. The fly kept on yacking and yacking and yacking 'til a bird pooped on the carabao's back. Finally, a reminder of where he has been.
Friday, December 02, 2005
Everyday, Figuratively
The Executioner
Nguyen executioner revealed by Alan Shadrake, 28 Oct 2005 (Photo & Report from News.com.au)
The hangman who will execute Australian drug trafficker Van Tuong Nguyen in Singapore has been revealed as a semi-retired 73-year-old grandfather.
In a matter of weeks, Darshan Singh will place a rope around the 25-year-old's neck and say the
words he has spoken to more than 850 condemned prisoners during his 46 years as Singapore's chief executioner.
"I am going to send you to a better place than this. God bless you."
Nguyen's hopes of escaping the gallows receded further yesterday when the Singaporean Government confirmed that it would not make an exception for the Australian.
Mr Singh has officially retired from the prison service but is called upon to carry out executions, for which he receives a fee of $S400 ($312).
Until now, his indentity has been a closely guarded secret in Singapore.
Officials rarely comment on capital punishment, which is carried out without publicity behind the walls of Changi prison.
But The Australian can reveal today that the 73-year-old grandfather, who lives in a modest, government-owned apartment near the border with Malaysia, has been asked to execute Nguyen unless the Singapore Government gives an unprecedented last-minute reprieve.
Mr Singh told The Australian yesterday that under the Official Secrets Act he was forbidden from speaking about his work.
A colleague and close friend, who spoke on the condition of anonymity, told The Australian that Mr Singh wanted to give up his hangman's responsibilities and live quietly in retirement but the authorities were having trouble finding anyone to replace him.
"He tried to train two would-be hangmen to replace him, a Malaysian and a Chinese, both in the prison service," the colleague said.
"But when it came to pulling the lever for the real thing, they both froze and could not do it.
"The Chinese guy, a prison officer, became so distraught he walked out immediately and resigned from the prison service altogether."
Nguyen will meet Mr Singh a few days before he is executed and will be asked if he would like to donate his organs.
On the day before his execution, Mr Singh will lead him to a set of scales close to his death-row cell to weigh him.
Mr Singh will use the Official Table of Drops, published by the British Home Office in 1913, to calculate the correct length of rope for the hanging.
On the day of Nguyen's execution, Mr Singh will be picked up by a government vehicle and driven to the prison, arriving at 2am local time (0400 AEST) to prepare the gallows.
Shortly before 6am, he will handcuff Nguyen's hands behind his back and lead him on his final short walk to the gallows, just a few metres from the cell.
Mr Singh joined the British colonial prison service in the mid-1950s after arriving from Malaysia. When the long-established British hangman Mr Seymour retired, Singh, then 27, volunteered for the job. He was attracted by the bonus payment for executions.
Mr Singh is credited with being the only executioner in the world to single-handedly hang 18 men in one day -- three at a time.
They had been convicted of murdering four prison officers during a riot on the penal island of Pulau Senang in 1963.
He also hanged seven condemned men within 90 minutes a few years later. They had been convicted in what became known as the "gold bars murders", in which a merchant and two employees were killed during a robbery.
One of the most controversial executions in his career was the 1991 hanging of a young Filipina maid, Flor Contemplacion, who was convicted of the murder of a co-worker, Delia Maga, and her four-year-old son, on what many believed was shaky evidence.
He carries out the executions wearing simple casual clothes, often just a T-shirt, shorts, sports shoes and knee-length socks.
To mark his 500th hanging four years ago, four of his former colleagues turned up at his home to celebrate the event with a couple of bottles of Chivas Regal.
Mr Singh boasts that he has never botched an execution.
"Mr Seymour taught him just how long the drop should be according to weight and height and exactly where the knot should be placed at the back of the neck," his colleague said.
"Death has always come instantaneously and painlessly. In that split second, at precisely 6am, it's all over."
Mr Singh was an accomplished cricketer in his youth and was often opening bat.
"He is a keen soccer fan," his colleague said. "His favourite team is Manchester United. He watches all the English Premier League matches he can."
When his colleague asked him why he had stayed so long in such a gruesome job, he replied: "It's all I know. It has become my bread and butter."
"He also used to cane convicted criminals after training in this field," the colleague said.
"The pay then was 50cents per stroke. He could wield a cane as well as he could wield a cricket bat."
Mr Singh lives happily with his second wife and is close to their three adult adopted children.
His first wife left him years earlier because she could not accept what he did. He had kept it a secret from her for years.
Mr Singh reportedly spends time getting to know the condemned prisoners, especially those who do not receive visitors or religious support.
"He is a very kindly man and although it's his job to end their lives he does feel for them," his friend said. "Mr Singh tries to comfort them if they are completely alone in the world at such a horrible time."
Nguyen executioner revealed by Alan Shadrake, 28 Oct 2005 (Photo & Report from News.com.au)
The hangman who will execute Australian drug trafficker Van Tuong Nguyen in Singapore has been revealed as a semi-retired 73-year-old grandfather.
In a matter of weeks, Darshan Singh will place a rope around the 25-year-old's neck and say the
words he has spoken to more than 850 condemned prisoners during his 46 years as Singapore's chief executioner.
"I am going to send you to a better place than this. God bless you."
Nguyen's hopes of escaping the gallows receded further yesterday when the Singaporean Government confirmed that it would not make an exception for the Australian.
Mr Singh has officially retired from the prison service but is called upon to carry out executions, for which he receives a fee of $S400 ($312).
Until now, his indentity has been a closely guarded secret in Singapore.
Officials rarely comment on capital punishment, which is carried out without publicity behind the walls of Changi prison.
But The Australian can reveal today that the 73-year-old grandfather, who lives in a modest, government-owned apartment near the border with Malaysia, has been asked to execute Nguyen unless the Singapore Government gives an unprecedented last-minute reprieve.
Mr Singh told The Australian yesterday that under the Official Secrets Act he was forbidden from speaking about his work.
A colleague and close friend, who spoke on the condition of anonymity, told The Australian that Mr Singh wanted to give up his hangman's responsibilities and live quietly in retirement but the authorities were having trouble finding anyone to replace him.
"He tried to train two would-be hangmen to replace him, a Malaysian and a Chinese, both in the prison service," the colleague said.
"But when it came to pulling the lever for the real thing, they both froze and could not do it.
"The Chinese guy, a prison officer, became so distraught he walked out immediately and resigned from the prison service altogether."
Nguyen will meet Mr Singh a few days before he is executed and will be asked if he would like to donate his organs.
On the day before his execution, Mr Singh will lead him to a set of scales close to his death-row cell to weigh him.
Mr Singh will use the Official Table of Drops, published by the British Home Office in 1913, to calculate the correct length of rope for the hanging.
On the day of Nguyen's execution, Mr Singh will be picked up by a government vehicle and driven to the prison, arriving at 2am local time (0400 AEST) to prepare the gallows.
Shortly before 6am, he will handcuff Nguyen's hands behind his back and lead him on his final short walk to the gallows, just a few metres from the cell.
Mr Singh joined the British colonial prison service in the mid-1950s after arriving from Malaysia. When the long-established British hangman Mr Seymour retired, Singh, then 27, volunteered for the job. He was attracted by the bonus payment for executions.
Mr Singh is credited with being the only executioner in the world to single-handedly hang 18 men in one day -- three at a time.
They had been convicted of murdering four prison officers during a riot on the penal island of Pulau Senang in 1963.
He also hanged seven condemned men within 90 minutes a few years later. They had been convicted in what became known as the "gold bars murders", in which a merchant and two employees were killed during a robbery.
One of the most controversial executions in his career was the 1991 hanging of a young Filipina maid, Flor Contemplacion, who was convicted of the murder of a co-worker, Delia Maga, and her four-year-old son, on what many believed was shaky evidence.
He carries out the executions wearing simple casual clothes, often just a T-shirt, shorts, sports shoes and knee-length socks.
To mark his 500th hanging four years ago, four of his former colleagues turned up at his home to celebrate the event with a couple of bottles of Chivas Regal.
Mr Singh boasts that he has never botched an execution.
"Mr Seymour taught him just how long the drop should be according to weight and height and exactly where the knot should be placed at the back of the neck," his colleague said.
"Death has always come instantaneously and painlessly. In that split second, at precisely 6am, it's all over."
Mr Singh was an accomplished cricketer in his youth and was often opening bat.
"He is a keen soccer fan," his colleague said. "His favourite team is Manchester United. He watches all the English Premier League matches he can."
When his colleague asked him why he had stayed so long in such a gruesome job, he replied: "It's all I know. It has become my bread and butter."
"He also used to cane convicted criminals after training in this field," the colleague said.
"The pay then was 50cents per stroke. He could wield a cane as well as he could wield a cricket bat."
Mr Singh lives happily with his second wife and is close to their three adult adopted children.
His first wife left him years earlier because she could not accept what he did. He had kept it a secret from her for years.
Mr Singh reportedly spends time getting to know the condemned prisoners, especially those who do not receive visitors or religious support.
"He is a very kindly man and although it's his job to end their lives he does feel for them," his friend said. "Mr Singh tries to comfort them if they are completely alone in the world at such a horrible time."
The Parable of The Anthill
Beneath, in the sublayers of Earth, a kingdom thrives.
An old man tells this story to a young boy. He says: "To find where the Queen Ant lives, follow the trail of the smaller ants. On their arms, they carry, sustenance for the Kingdom and their Queen."
"But why do they have to work for her?" asks the young boy. "Doesn't she have the same number of feet and arms to work equally amongst them?"
"Certain things are created in a certain way. It's just the way it is. The Queen Ant is the one who breeds. In a sense, she's vital to the Kingdom. Without her, then there would be no other ants. The present ones will die and witle. And soon enough, the Kingdom will perish," the old man explains.
"But without the worker ants, the Queen will not have her nourishment? They could just store the food they gather elsewhere. Doesn't the Queen owe her life to her workers?" the boy asks again.
"They can do that. But that's disobedience. And the Queen has no tolerance for such behavior," explains the old man.
"But why do they have to follow?" the boy looks into the old man's eyes. "Don't they have any other choice?"
"Again, young boy, things are created in a certain way. They don't have to be acceptable," the old man says.
The young boy, looks at the trail of worker ants at his feet, then follows then traces them. A couple of steps ahead, an anthill is found. He kneels and picks up a worker ant.
"You will never have to work for her again," he tells the ant and puts him on the trunk of a mango tree.
"Up there, there are ripe mangoes for your picking. You can have them all to yourself," the boy says.
The boy runs into the ricefield beaming. The late afternoon breeze against his face. He picks up a kite and flies it.
An old man tells this story to a young boy. He says: "To find where the Queen Ant lives, follow the trail of the smaller ants. On their arms, they carry, sustenance for the Kingdom and their Queen."
"But why do they have to work for her?" asks the young boy. "Doesn't she have the same number of feet and arms to work equally amongst them?"
"Certain things are created in a certain way. It's just the way it is. The Queen Ant is the one who breeds. In a sense, she's vital to the Kingdom. Without her, then there would be no other ants. The present ones will die and witle. And soon enough, the Kingdom will perish," the old man explains.
"But without the worker ants, the Queen will not have her nourishment? They could just store the food they gather elsewhere. Doesn't the Queen owe her life to her workers?" the boy asks again.
"They can do that. But that's disobedience. And the Queen has no tolerance for such behavior," explains the old man.
"But why do they have to follow?" the boy looks into the old man's eyes. "Don't they have any other choice?"
"Again, young boy, things are created in a certain way. They don't have to be acceptable," the old man says.
The young boy, looks at the trail of worker ants at his feet, then follows then traces them. A couple of steps ahead, an anthill is found. He kneels and picks up a worker ant.
"You will never have to work for her again," he tells the ant and puts him on the trunk of a mango tree.
"Up there, there are ripe mangoes for your picking. You can have them all to yourself," the boy says.
The boy runs into the ricefield beaming. The late afternoon breeze against his face. He picks up a kite and flies it.
Friday, November 25, 2005
Work 'n Shop (for Good Times!)
At the office during the tour of the foreign participants in the office.
During the farewell dinner hosted by the office.
Monday, November 21, 2005
Third Blog
I've acquired my third blog via a lucky ticket from wordpress. I decided that it will be primarily for literary outputs (sans the personal anecdotes, angst, whatever you can actually read here). That's just to avoid redundancy.
I wonder sometimes, if, in sleeping, one is able to stop time. I imagine, doing nothing somehow keeps the status quo. Like how water in the glass remains constant, or how the worn shirt stays in the bin. Or how the slippers don't move.
I wonder, if there's magic in all of these that some things in constant, never changing.
read more Dreamweavers.
I wonder sometimes, if, in sleeping, one is able to stop time. I imagine, doing nothing somehow keeps the status quo. Like how water in the glass remains constant, or how the worn shirt stays in the bin. Or how the slippers don't move.
I wonder, if there's magic in all of these that some things in constant, never changing.
read more Dreamweavers.
Back
I'm back at work. Went to this one-week seminar-workshop on investigative journalism last week which my office co-hosted with the Asian Institute for Broadcasting Development and Friedrich Ebert Stiftung. 'twas great. I thought initially one week would be a bore but it turns out bitin. I met some journalists from other countries like Shane (from FijiTV), Jee (from ITV in Thailand), Yuyun from Indonesia, Kul from Thailand, too. I was with another colleague from the news department and two from our public affairs department. There was also Ricky (Carandang) from ABS-CBN. Will post photos soon after I uploaded them. :P
Monday, November 14, 2005
Crash
Last Friday, I was tasked to cover Typhoon Ondoy while it landfalls into Aurora. But God was good, it was weaker than predicted and in the morning of Friday, it was all sunshine.
Scenes from an accidental vacation. Had my deepest sleep when I was there in Baler, Aurora. I think the beachfront faces the Pacific Ocean already.
Have you heard the Pacific Ocean ramble?
Scenes from an accidental vacation. Had my deepest sleep when I was there in Baler, Aurora. I think the beachfront faces the Pacific Ocean already.
Have you heard the Pacific Ocean ramble?
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