Kagabi nagsabong na naman ang kunsensiya.
Nagreklamo ang una, "Tangna, ngayon ko na lang ulit narinig na sambitin 'yun na parang sakit," sabi niya.
"Ha?" tanong ko.
"Nagsisigaw ba naman: "*******! *******! *******" nanggagalaiti pa rin siya.
"Me nag-react ba naman?" tanong ko.
"Wala. Para siyang asong ulol 'dun na nagsisisigaw!" kwento niya.
"Mabuti na 'yun ganun ka ..." sabi ko sa kanya.
Tumitig siya akin, parang hind niya alam kung kakampi ba n'ya ako.
"Kesa naman SINUNGALING!," ismid ko sa kanya.
"Oo nga," sabi niya sabay sindi ng yosi.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Regime
From the Philippine Collegian editorial, "Into the Battlefront": This regime's deadliest weapon is twisted logic. Its concept of peace is total silence. Justice, conversely, is butchering people into submission. Read more.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Faith
I almost touched faith today.
At the Court of Appeals, during the hearing of B/Gen. Danilo Lim's wife petition for habeas corpus, there were relatives who witnessed the proceeding. One lady caught my attention: she was holding a rosary and was praying incessantly but silently.
Let's see if her prayers would work, I thought to myself: testing, admittedly, my own faith and challenging hers.
I don't know if it was just me but if you juxtapose the repartee between Associate Justice Eleazar de los Santos and Asst. Solicitor General Amparo Tang, you could surmise that perhaps there was some miracle somewhere.
Justice de los Santos was hostile from the beginning, challenging the position of the government that a charge sheet in the military context constituted a formal filing of charges in the context of civilian courts.
"We want the truth!" de los Santos demanded from Tang after a rather unclear explanation as to whether a charge has been filed or was prepared. Tang explained that there already was a charge sheet finding probable cause that B/Gen. Lim violated the Articles of War.
"But has it been filed?" de los Santos wanted to know.
The OSG countered, in essence, that there was no concept of "filing" in the military court, the way civilian courts have it. Meaning, a soldier can be detained based on that charge sheet.
I glanced at the lady with the rosary. Her eyes were closed, holding, more tightly now her beaded rosary.
"So you were fast in detaining Gen. Lim," de los Santos continued.
The justice asked since when has the charge been pending before the office of Chief of Staff of the Armed Forces of the Philippines.
"Since March of this year," Tang said.
"For how long will you be detaining Gen. Lim. For two years? For five years?" an apparently irked de los Santos asked.
"Until the investigation on Marine Col. Ariel Querubin is finished. Then the pre-trial investigation can commence," Tang answered.
The lady continued with her prayers, sensing, I surmise the leaning of the justice.
At one point, de los Santos said: "Perhaps, the reason why the charge sheet has been pending is still pending, is that the Chief of Staff is not convinced that Gen. Lim committed any crime."
The lady with the rosary, nearly rose in her seat. She closed her eyes and summoned the heavens.
It was as if, with every bead of prayer, the answers slowly came.
"If you will be returned to your quarters," de los Santos turned to Lim, "you will not have any complaints?"
"That'll be better," the general asked.
The lady with the rosary opened her eyes excitedly, as though the news she was awaiting had come.
But instead the court did not release Lim. Not yet anyway. It asked both parties to submit their respective memoranda in three days, after which the petition is deemed submitted for resolution.
The court may not have released or returned Lim to his quarters but I know a miracle took place in that courtroom this morning.
At the Court of Appeals, during the hearing of B/Gen. Danilo Lim's wife petition for habeas corpus, there were relatives who witnessed the proceeding. One lady caught my attention: she was holding a rosary and was praying incessantly but silently.
Let's see if her prayers would work, I thought to myself: testing, admittedly, my own faith and challenging hers.
I don't know if it was just me but if you juxtapose the repartee between Associate Justice Eleazar de los Santos and Asst. Solicitor General Amparo Tang, you could surmise that perhaps there was some miracle somewhere.
Justice de los Santos was hostile from the beginning, challenging the position of the government that a charge sheet in the military context constituted a formal filing of charges in the context of civilian courts.
"We want the truth!" de los Santos demanded from Tang after a rather unclear explanation as to whether a charge has been filed or was prepared. Tang explained that there already was a charge sheet finding probable cause that B/Gen. Lim violated the Articles of War.
"But has it been filed?" de los Santos wanted to know.
The OSG countered, in essence, that there was no concept of "filing" in the military court, the way civilian courts have it. Meaning, a soldier can be detained based on that charge sheet.
I glanced at the lady with the rosary. Her eyes were closed, holding, more tightly now her beaded rosary.
"So you were fast in detaining Gen. Lim," de los Santos continued.
The justice asked since when has the charge been pending before the office of Chief of Staff of the Armed Forces of the Philippines.
"Since March of this year," Tang said.
"For how long will you be detaining Gen. Lim. For two years? For five years?" an apparently irked de los Santos asked.
"Until the investigation on Marine Col. Ariel Querubin is finished. Then the pre-trial investigation can commence," Tang answered.
The lady continued with her prayers, sensing, I surmise the leaning of the justice.
At one point, de los Santos said: "Perhaps, the reason why the charge sheet has been pending is still pending, is that the Chief of Staff is not convinced that Gen. Lim committed any crime."
The lady with the rosary, nearly rose in her seat. She closed her eyes and summoned the heavens.
It was as if, with every bead of prayer, the answers slowly came.
"If you will be returned to your quarters," de los Santos turned to Lim, "you will not have any complaints?"
"That'll be better," the general asked.
The lady with the rosary opened her eyes excitedly, as though the news she was awaiting had come.
But instead the court did not release Lim. Not yet anyway. It asked both parties to submit their respective memoranda in three days, after which the petition is deemed submitted for resolution.
The court may not have released or returned Lim to his quarters but I know a miracle took place in that courtroom this morning.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Epiphanies
"I'm definitely at a crosscroads," I told R., and J., over our second round of beers last night.
The two-week suspension, as correctly foreseen, gave birth to several epiphanies. There were un-relationships severed or modified based on certain realities. The one with M. couldn't go beyond what it actually was. Status quo is the mode to go. The one with G., on the other hand is a different matter. Roles were defined according to circumstance and I simply thought it unacceptable.
At one point during that two-week hiatus, I realised that all these things that I'm doing can be done again, like a recurring theme, or wishes that can be made possible in a whim. But there are certain things that, if neglected or ignored, have no chance of returning. Being a son for example.
A while ago, an officemate asked me to sketch for us in a lecture by a pastor. Here's the storyline: A king accidentally drops his ring in a dry well. But the well has a small opening only a child can go in and pick up the ring. The king finally finds a child who agreed to go into the well and the king offers his strongest knight to hold the rope that will help the child descend into the well. But the child declines and instead insists that his father, an old and weary man, hold the rope for him.
"The point of the story," my officemate texts me, "is that we should hold on to and trust God as we would our fathers."
God has way of reaching out.
The two-week suspension, as correctly foreseen, gave birth to several epiphanies. There were un-relationships severed or modified based on certain realities. The one with M. couldn't go beyond what it actually was. Status quo is the mode to go. The one with G., on the other hand is a different matter. Roles were defined according to circumstance and I simply thought it unacceptable.
At one point during that two-week hiatus, I realised that all these things that I'm doing can be done again, like a recurring theme, or wishes that can be made possible in a whim. But there are certain things that, if neglected or ignored, have no chance of returning. Being a son for example.
A while ago, an officemate asked me to sketch for us in a lecture by a pastor. Here's the storyline: A king accidentally drops his ring in a dry well. But the well has a small opening only a child can go in and pick up the ring. The king finally finds a child who agreed to go into the well and the king offers his strongest knight to hold the rope that will help the child descend into the well. But the child declines and instead insists that his father, an old and weary man, hold the rope for him.
"The point of the story," my officemate texts me, "is that we should hold on to and trust God as we would our fathers."
God has way of reaching out.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Homecoming
For something I thought I had wanted so badly, I am suddenly uncertain.
"On Saturday, I will be with you na," he texts me today.
"With me" -- as though in a homecoming. I like the idea but I'm not quite sure if I want it.
All the old issues that surfaced in my past relationship with P. which I thought have been buried are in full view again. They have not been conquered. And now whatever I do with this opportunity will dictate how I will be in the future.
I will take it in stride. Cross my fingers. And hope that the constellations above smile upon us with favor.
"On Saturday, I will be with you na," he texts me today.
"With me" -- as though in a homecoming. I like the idea but I'm not quite sure if I want it.
All the old issues that surfaced in my past relationship with P. which I thought have been buried are in full view again. They have not been conquered. And now whatever I do with this opportunity will dictate how I will be in the future.
I will take it in stride. Cross my fingers. And hope that the constellations above smile upon us with favor.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Rumors
I heard a rumor today.
"He might be, you know," M. said when I chanced upon her unexpectedly in the office.
"Really?" I asked in disbelief. But I'm a bit excited. Though, if I have to be pragmatic about it, nothing will come out of the newly-discovered "fact."
Then I saw him. Increasingly, as if fate had finally given in, I have been seeing him. And within earshot, I finally heard him speak.
The man finally has a voice: soft, with a hint of strength, in staccato, fast, as though the mouth couldn't keep up with the mind.
It is music. As all fantasies have some sort of theme to them.
I'm still waiting for G.'s text. He was supposed to arrive in Manila today, stay in my house for a month until he finishes his training.
But I guess he's too proud to ask. And I'm as proud not to give what is not asked.
"He might be, you know," M. said when I chanced upon her unexpectedly in the office.
"Really?" I asked in disbelief. But I'm a bit excited. Though, if I have to be pragmatic about it, nothing will come out of the newly-discovered "fact."
Then I saw him. Increasingly, as if fate had finally given in, I have been seeing him. And within earshot, I finally heard him speak.
The man finally has a voice: soft, with a hint of strength, in staccato, fast, as though the mouth couldn't keep up with the mind.
It is music. As all fantasies have some sort of theme to them.
------
I'm still waiting for G.'s text. He was supposed to arrive in Manila today, stay in my house for a month until he finishes his training.
But I guess he's too proud to ask. And I'm as proud not to give what is not asked.
Friday, July 07, 2006
Proud Dead Man Walking
It's the kind of smug-face only the defeated can wear. After all, he can't afford to wear his loss on his sleeve. That would have been twice the defeat.
But inside his head, the monsters are alive and could not be silenced: "How could you have done it?" "Do you still have a face to show?" "You let us down."
He will try not to listen, however glaring the mistake is.
"I am protected. I am safe. They will take the cudgels for me" he tells himself, thinking of his friends.
He walks on. But there is no shadow.
Dead men don't have them.
But inside his head, the monsters are alive and could not be silenced: "How could you have done it?" "Do you still have a face to show?" "You let us down."
He will try not to listen, however glaring the mistake is.
"I am protected. I am safe. They will take the cudgels for me" he tells himself, thinking of his friends.
He walks on. But there is no shadow.
Dead men don't have them.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Weakest Link
Sun Tzu comes forward with full wisdom with this: "You can be sure of succeeding in your attacks if you only attack places which are undefended."
The enemy has so far identified the weakest point. And it's hitting hard. Three times so far.
The enemy has so far identified the weakest point. And it's hitting hard. Three times so far.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Mom's Advice
After my two-week hiatus, my mom gives her two cents worth: "Maging mabait ka na."
The rebel in me automatically retorted, "I won't. And I can't. What they see is what they get."
But somehow my mother knew I was built that way.
Well, the only other option is to be "plastic" about the whole situation. Smile and hack them at the back (which is the strategy of choice, I realised).
But I'd rather that I give them the chance of fighting back.
(Watching Cherie Gil on CinemeOne's "Profiles" and the "Simple Life" didn't do me good eh? hehehe)
The rebel in me automatically retorted, "I won't. And I can't. What they see is what they get."
But somehow my mother knew I was built that way.
Well, the only other option is to be "plastic" about the whole situation. Smile and hack them at the back (which is the strategy of choice, I realised).
But I'd rather that I give them the chance of fighting back.
(Watching Cherie Gil on CinemeOne's "Profiles" and the "Simple Life" didn't do me good eh? hehehe)
Re-dux
It's like going to college all over again.
My two-week vacation has come to a close and I'm psyching myself up to return to Manila tomorrow. Apparently, I'm unsuccessful. I texted my boss if she could allow me to absent from work on Monday and report instead on Tuesday. No replies so far but I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
"Don't you miss the tension?," someone has asked. Well, to be honest? No. Not that I don't love my work. Of course, I love it, make no mistake about it. Otherwise, I would've gotten out of it already especially when confronted with certain realities about office life. But I'm digressing.
I remember that first time when I had to go to Manila (Quezon City actually, but for us promdis, the term "Manila" encompasses everything. More than another location, it represented another life, a new life, if one wants to call it such). I didn't want to go but I had to because I was about to start my first year in the university.
That's the reason why I didn't want to stay long here in Lucena. I would be reminded of how much fun it is just to be here. Been watching TV most of the times (if I wasn't drinking or malling wehehehe. Or "beaching" as in spending time in the beach. The alternative meaning, that one thing it sounds like is also acceptable) and I've taken to liking AXN, the travel and living channel, CNN, BBC, discovery channel, FTV, and a lot more. I'd wake up a little before 12 nn to eat my overdue breakfast, TV the whole day, and then sleep some more, and then out every possible night.
But beneath this, I've reconnected to my long-term passions such as drawing. I made a vow to myself to pursue it whenever I can. It is a gift that I wouldn't want to go to waste.
In "Oprah" the other day, Elie Weisel, author of the book "Night" about the stories of the survivors of the Holocaust was featured. Weisel said that he decided to write this book so that people would remember that dark age. Otherwise, the Holocaust would just be a tiny footnote in the world's history. But more than that, he wanted to give voice to the voiceless.
And I am reminded of my reason for going into journalism.
During the lecture last week, I asked the students the reasons why some people go into journalism and what role it plays in the society.
"To be famous," someone answered.
I couldn't contain myself and told him flat out that no, that's not what you're here for. As a student journalist, I told him, you should remember that this is not a job for the selfish. If you want to be famous, then be a movie star.
Admittedly, still, and I conceded, that some people do go into this craft for the fame factor. Met some of them. Despise most of them.
But for as long as you could, I advised, remember that this journalism is about giving voice to the voiceless. It's shedding light into the tiny crevices of social ills. I for one, have been thinking of channeling this calling into helping children: victims of physical abuse and emotional abuse, the minority, children in war-torn areas.
And this what keeps me in line.
I told a colleague once that maybe this job was given for her (and for me) for some reason. True, life may not always be fair. GOD, IT'S NOT! But maybe, I advised her, try to look the other way. For as long as they're not taking anything away from you, carry on.
It's the same advise I'm giving myself.
My two-week vacation has come to a close and I'm psyching myself up to return to Manila tomorrow. Apparently, I'm unsuccessful. I texted my boss if she could allow me to absent from work on Monday and report instead on Tuesday. No replies so far but I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
"Don't you miss the tension?," someone has asked. Well, to be honest? No. Not that I don't love my work. Of course, I love it, make no mistake about it. Otherwise, I would've gotten out of it already especially when confronted with certain realities about office life. But I'm digressing.
I remember that first time when I had to go to Manila (Quezon City actually, but for us promdis, the term "Manila" encompasses everything. More than another location, it represented another life, a new life, if one wants to call it such). I didn't want to go but I had to because I was about to start my first year in the university.
That's the reason why I didn't want to stay long here in Lucena. I would be reminded of how much fun it is just to be here. Been watching TV most of the times (if I wasn't drinking or malling wehehehe. Or "beaching" as in spending time in the beach. The alternative meaning, that one thing it sounds like is also acceptable) and I've taken to liking AXN, the travel and living channel, CNN, BBC, discovery channel, FTV, and a lot more. I'd wake up a little before 12 nn to eat my overdue breakfast, TV the whole day, and then sleep some more, and then out every possible night.
But beneath this, I've reconnected to my long-term passions such as drawing. I made a vow to myself to pursue it whenever I can. It is a gift that I wouldn't want to go to waste.
In "Oprah" the other day, Elie Weisel, author of the book "Night" about the stories of the survivors of the Holocaust was featured. Weisel said that he decided to write this book so that people would remember that dark age. Otherwise, the Holocaust would just be a tiny footnote in the world's history. But more than that, he wanted to give voice to the voiceless.
And I am reminded of my reason for going into journalism.
During the lecture last week, I asked the students the reasons why some people go into journalism and what role it plays in the society.
"To be famous," someone answered.
I couldn't contain myself and told him flat out that no, that's not what you're here for. As a student journalist, I told him, you should remember that this is not a job for the selfish. If you want to be famous, then be a movie star.
Admittedly, still, and I conceded, that some people do go into this craft for the fame factor. Met some of them. Despise most of them.
But for as long as you could, I advised, remember that this journalism is about giving voice to the voiceless. It's shedding light into the tiny crevices of social ills. I for one, have been thinking of channeling this calling into helping children: victims of physical abuse and emotional abuse, the minority, children in war-torn areas.
And this what keeps me in line.
I told a colleague once that maybe this job was given for her (and for me) for some reason. True, life may not always be fair. GOD, IT'S NOT! But maybe, I advised her, try to look the other way. For as long as they're not taking anything away from you, carry on.
It's the same advise I'm giving myself.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Photography Naman
I'm getting myself used to color pencils which I plan to use when I come back and cover the Subic rape case. Another passion is photography. This one, of me, hehehhe, vain me with a little manipulation on the color.
Piktyur Piktyur
Jorge, Obel and Me at a Lucban resort Monday.
I was once like these students who are members of the staff of "The Coconut." Taught them newswriting for two days since yesterday. Tomorrow, it's a Friday so I asked some students to play the guitar. We're going to have some serious fun. Hehehehe.
Anyway, today was a little tiring than yesterday. Never been this exhausted the past couple of days. Taugh them the basic concepts in newswriting and certain structures that they can follow in writing the news.
I was worried they'd be bored to death by the lecture but was surprised and delighted to find out they were interested and were actually participating in the discussion.
Yesterday, through the diagnostics test, I found out that they have very little knowledge about newswriting. This was totally expected, half of the "class" were new third year students while the other half were fourth year students who had a year's experience in the craft. The third year students were learning from scratch so to speak.
But after a while, and after a heavy dose of concepts and tips, they were getting the drift. I asked them to group themselves and as though they were the board of the paper, come up with a news story of their choice with the headline and the lead.
In the critique (they were the ones, critiquing a group's output), I was relieved to find out that at least they knew what areas of the news story should be improved o what was good in te story.
The lecture was a good three hour session, thankfully, no one walked out because of information overload. Hehehehe. Tomorrow is going to be fun I hope.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Teaching and then Some
Two days of drinking and a day (and two more of teaching), I think with these, the two-week "mandatory vacation" as T.P. puts it might be too short.
Monday I went to a resort in Lucban with George and Obel for some updating. Of course, that wasn't without drinking hehehehe. Afterwards, we ate at a local pizza station which serves gourmet pizza, "Ground Zero".
Yesterday, I met up with a high school bestfriend, Mervin, and drank 'til the wee hours of the morning. I thought I felt my kidney ached from so much alcohol, hehehhehe.
Today was the heaviest day, by heavy I mean, work-wise. My former advisers at the high school paper where I served as an editor in my third and fourth years were happy to hear I was "vacationing". So they seized the chance to get me to teach the new hirees of the paper. I was just happy to oblige.
I thought I would be teaching some 10 or 12 students. That was my idea of how big the staff was for a high school paper. I wrote a diagnostics test to determine the level of awareness of the students as far as newswriting was concerned. It's a three-page document with six items that would introduce them to the concept of leads, headlines, straight news, featurized news, inverted pyramid style and the pyramid style, and of course, newswriting.
Before I went to my former high school I asked Ms. Vinnie, one of my former adviser, how many copies I would need for how many students.
"53," she replied.
"Are you serious? Dalawang section na ng students 'yun," I told her jokingly.
She was. When I went there, I was an hour late for my "training/seminar." A roomful of students had been there since 5:30. I thought I was scheduled for 6:30 p.m.
On the board, "Welcome back, Kuya Joseph," were written.
It was indeed a homecoming. After almost 10 years, I was back to my former newspaper. The first ever serious experience at journalism.
Tomorrow, I will be teaching them the basics of newswriting. Hopefully, after this, one or two souls will be inspired to pursue journalism as a course and being a journalist as a way of life.
It was said, that the worth of a man's life is not measured by wealth, or fame, or connections. The measure of one's life, is the number of people who you managed to touch, inspire, guide.
I am a product of those who have touched my life, former schoolpaper advisers, former professors at U.P., kindred souls who in some way were sent for me to guide me in my path.
When they beckon, I will not hesitate to heed their call.
Monday I went to a resort in Lucban with George and Obel for some updating. Of course, that wasn't without drinking hehehehe. Afterwards, we ate at a local pizza station which serves gourmet pizza, "Ground Zero".
Yesterday, I met up with a high school bestfriend, Mervin, and drank 'til the wee hours of the morning. I thought I felt my kidney ached from so much alcohol, hehehhehe.
Today was the heaviest day, by heavy I mean, work-wise. My former advisers at the high school paper where I served as an editor in my third and fourth years were happy to hear I was "vacationing". So they seized the chance to get me to teach the new hirees of the paper. I was just happy to oblige.
I thought I would be teaching some 10 or 12 students. That was my idea of how big the staff was for a high school paper. I wrote a diagnostics test to determine the level of awareness of the students as far as newswriting was concerned. It's a three-page document with six items that would introduce them to the concept of leads, headlines, straight news, featurized news, inverted pyramid style and the pyramid style, and of course, newswriting.
Before I went to my former high school I asked Ms. Vinnie, one of my former adviser, how many copies I would need for how many students.
"53," she replied.
"Are you serious? Dalawang section na ng students 'yun," I told her jokingly.
She was. When I went there, I was an hour late for my "training/seminar." A roomful of students had been there since 5:30. I thought I was scheduled for 6:30 p.m.
On the board, "Welcome back, Kuya Joseph," were written.
It was indeed a homecoming. After almost 10 years, I was back to my former newspaper. The first ever serious experience at journalism.
Tomorrow, I will be teaching them the basics of newswriting. Hopefully, after this, one or two souls will be inspired to pursue journalism as a course and being a journalist as a way of life.
It was said, that the worth of a man's life is not measured by wealth, or fame, or connections. The measure of one's life, is the number of people who you managed to touch, inspire, guide.
I am a product of those who have touched my life, former schoolpaper advisers, former professors at U.P., kindred souls who in some way were sent for me to guide me in my path.
When they beckon, I will not hesitate to heed their call.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Hiatus
It is becoming a trend that a shift occurs at this period. In 2003, I climbed Mt. Pulag, a personal feat that signalled a paradigm shift. Walking back to the office, I remember then, after I had come from the trip, I felt like a different person. During that period, I was transferred to the day shift and handled special reports until I was entrusted with the justice beat.
That time of the year, has come again. This time, I will attempt to disappear. It would be nice to pause, to halt, to stop. Or to take a breather, a break, a hiatus.
I will be gone for two weeks, two weeks that could offer me a myriad of possibilities and an opportunity to try the impossibilities. I can take a chance if I want to, risk if I can. Or I can evade, escape, hide. Whatever, I shall welcome it with glee, as though it is a natural, logical consequence, not of the act that caused this, or the overall plan of the One who sees.
I will miss writing stories. But I will, this time, enrich my personal story with new memories. I shall miss the sketches I do for the trial I am covering. But this time will give me an opportunity to assess a bigger picture which is my life.
"Enjoy the (imposed) break," someone has said.
"Don't take this negatively," someone advised.
I will and I'm not. Don't worry. I am at this point in my life where even I, have noticed is several steps from where I used to be. True, I'm a different person now. "Reformed" was the word used. I agree.
I shall drink and get merry. In this kind of job that I chose, a pause is a halt that refreshes. And renews.
That time of the year, has come again. This time, I will attempt to disappear. It would be nice to pause, to halt, to stop. Or to take a breather, a break, a hiatus.
I will be gone for two weeks, two weeks that could offer me a myriad of possibilities and an opportunity to try the impossibilities. I can take a chance if I want to, risk if I can. Or I can evade, escape, hide. Whatever, I shall welcome it with glee, as though it is a natural, logical consequence, not of the act that caused this, or the overall plan of the One who sees.
I will miss writing stories. But I will, this time, enrich my personal story with new memories. I shall miss the sketches I do for the trial I am covering. But this time will give me an opportunity to assess a bigger picture which is my life.
"Enjoy the (imposed) break," someone has said.
"Don't take this negatively," someone advised.
I will and I'm not. Don't worry. I am at this point in my life where even I, have noticed is several steps from where I used to be. True, I'm a different person now. "Reformed" was the word used. I agree.
I shall drink and get merry. In this kind of job that I chose, a pause is a halt that refreshes. And renews.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Independence Day
Loneliness is an addiction.
The early dawn was awakened by the news of your arrival. "We saw P. last week," Philip told me, matter of factly, unaware of its impact.
"Oh yeah?" I said, trying to feign disinterest.
I tried to immerse in the music blaring in the bar.
"Where? And when?" I finally turned to Philip. I couldn't help myself.
"Last Tuesday, at Starbucks. With his boyfriend I think," he answered.
"How did he look like?" I asked.
"The same," Philip said.
"How about his boyfriend?"
"I couldn't remember how he looked like. He's that forgettable," Philip said.
Does it matter if P.'s boy is ugly. Truth of the matter is that he's with him now.
Does it matter, conversely, who P.'s with at this point?
None of this matter.
It's been a year since I sent him the independence day email. In it, I attached a photo of the burning teddy bear I had given December 2003.
One year, thence, I am still colonized by my past which is my master.
The early dawn was awakened by the news of your arrival. "We saw P. last week," Philip told me, matter of factly, unaware of its impact.
"Oh yeah?" I said, trying to feign disinterest.
I tried to immerse in the music blaring in the bar.
"Where? And when?" I finally turned to Philip. I couldn't help myself.
"Last Tuesday, at Starbucks. With his boyfriend I think," he answered.
"How did he look like?" I asked.
"The same," Philip said.
"How about his boyfriend?"
"I couldn't remember how he looked like. He's that forgettable," Philip said.
Does it matter if P.'s boy is ugly. Truth of the matter is that he's with him now.
Does it matter, conversely, who P.'s with at this point?
None of this matter.
It's been a year since I sent him the independence day email. In it, I attached a photo of the burning teddy bear I had given December 2003.
One year, thence, I am still colonized by my past which is my master.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Birthdate
| Your Birthdate: October 17 |
 Your strength: Your ability to make your own luck Your weakness: Thinking you can do it all Your power color: Bronze Your power symbol: Half Moon Your power month: August |
What Does Your Birth Date Mean?
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Garbage In Garbage Out
I'm at Nelson's place where he's sorting out his old stuff for his upcoming garage sale. Norah Jones' is complementing this weekend chill-out.
Going back to the subject of garage sales, I can't help but wish purging (it's the second time I used the word this week ehehhehe) emotional baggages was that easy: an old t-shirt from a previous coverage flies into the carton box; an short-sleeved polo that looks outdated joins the future ex-properties.
There was even an old, and I mean old framed photo of his ex (can't tell who for privacy considerations). "You shouldn't sell this, you should BURN it!," I admonished him.
"I'm selling the frame for fifty bucks," he said.
And just like that, all that the pictures represented before amounted to nothing. Or maybe, P50 pesos.
Going back to the subject of garage sales, I can't help but wish purging (it's the second time I used the word this week ehehhehe) emotional baggages was that easy: an old t-shirt from a previous coverage flies into the carton box; an short-sleeved polo that looks outdated joins the future ex-properties.
There was even an old, and I mean old framed photo of his ex (can't tell who for privacy considerations). "You shouldn't sell this, you should BURN it!," I admonished him.
"I'm selling the frame for fifty bucks," he said.
And just like that, all that the pictures represented before amounted to nothing. Or maybe, P50 pesos.
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Shortage
One way to "solve" a problem is to look away.
Department of Education Officer-in-Charge Fe Hidalgo shouldn't "feel sorry for herself" (as she had said) for divulging the reality that there is classroom shortage (I wonder if we lack teachers, too. Oh I bet we do).
I am a product of the public school system. I am a graduate of Quezon National High School and I saw for myself, back in 1992 until 1996 that there's a shortage (aside from classrooms, books). My classmates and I were a bit lucky, and also those in the "higher" section, because we were provided with rooms and there were only around 30-45 students per classroom. But just the same, that would not erase the fact that most of the other students didn't have classrooms. And even our section was not spared from holding some of our classes in the school's grandstand. And the pergola.
Both my parents are teachers and I could tell it wasn't easy teaching students under the shade of trees. Focus was a problem. And for the teachers, it was quite stressful because they had to speak in a louder voice and all.
I remember my father being exasperated about the disinterest in education of some of his students. He was handling the lower section and he wouldn't simply buy the reasoning that education wouldn't mean a thing to their lives. So why study?
But I guess you really can't blame the students if they'd rather work early and skip school. Work gives the instant bread. Add to that the school environment. I don't know how you could convince students to study hard and focus on the lessons while they're nearly drenched in rain (Kara David had a report last week about a school where students bring umbrellas inside their classrooms because the roof was leaking) or toasted under the sun.
I got a chance to interview Ms. Hidalgo today at the Palace after the roundtable discussion at the Kalayaan Hall with the President herself. I would have wanted to tell her that she should have stood her ground. She's from the Dep-Ed and at that time the President accosted her for revealing the classroom shortage, she should have said that was simply the reality. She has the authority to speak on the subject anyway.
Turning a blind eye to the problem, won't make it go away.
It's called delusion.
Department of Education Officer-in-Charge Fe Hidalgo shouldn't "feel sorry for herself" (as she had said) for divulging the reality that there is classroom shortage (I wonder if we lack teachers, too. Oh I bet we do).
I am a product of the public school system. I am a graduate of Quezon National High School and I saw for myself, back in 1992 until 1996 that there's a shortage (aside from classrooms, books). My classmates and I were a bit lucky, and also those in the "higher" section, because we were provided with rooms and there were only around 30-45 students per classroom. But just the same, that would not erase the fact that most of the other students didn't have classrooms. And even our section was not spared from holding some of our classes in the school's grandstand. And the pergola.
Both my parents are teachers and I could tell it wasn't easy teaching students under the shade of trees. Focus was a problem. And for the teachers, it was quite stressful because they had to speak in a louder voice and all.
I remember my father being exasperated about the disinterest in education of some of his students. He was handling the lower section and he wouldn't simply buy the reasoning that education wouldn't mean a thing to their lives. So why study?
But I guess you really can't blame the students if they'd rather work early and skip school. Work gives the instant bread. Add to that the school environment. I don't know how you could convince students to study hard and focus on the lessons while they're nearly drenched in rain (Kara David had a report last week about a school where students bring umbrellas inside their classrooms because the roof was leaking) or toasted under the sun.
I got a chance to interview Ms. Hidalgo today at the Palace after the roundtable discussion at the Kalayaan Hall with the President herself. I would have wanted to tell her that she should have stood her ground. She's from the Dep-Ed and at that time the President accosted her for revealing the classroom shortage, she should have said that was simply the reality. She has the authority to speak on the subject anyway.
Turning a blind eye to the problem, won't make it go away.
It's called delusion.
Shift
"He marked a shift," I told Ruth about what had happened in Lucena with U.
"I think I'm ready," I was surprised as much as she was that I said it.
I was ready to risk it again. Only that time I knew it wasn't a game. U's married now and I can't have him. But I was fine with it.
I was merely rehearsing.
Rehearsing again how to abandon my fears and spiral into that wonderful feeling of loving someone and being loved back.
In the process I was purging all of P's memories. I'm no longer his. And I shall love again, like I loved him.
It was like him cradling me. Sometimes, I would wrap my arms around his waist while we were seating. Gently, I would kiss his neck and he would lean. I would meet his cheeks with the softest kisses.
I was merely rehearsing.
But epiphany dawned on me. I know I am ready.
"I think I'm ready," I was surprised as much as she was that I said it.
I was ready to risk it again. Only that time I knew it wasn't a game. U's married now and I can't have him. But I was fine with it.
I was merely rehearsing.
Rehearsing again how to abandon my fears and spiral into that wonderful feeling of loving someone and being loved back.
In the process I was purging all of P's memories. I'm no longer his. And I shall love again, like I loved him.
It was like him cradling me. Sometimes, I would wrap my arms around his waist while we were seating. Gently, I would kiss his neck and he would lean. I would meet his cheeks with the softest kisses.
I was merely rehearsing.
But epiphany dawned on me. I know I am ready.
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