tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50150323575394494732024-03-21T14:41:05.949+08:00MY GULCH...everything passes. nobody gets anything for keeps. and that’s how we got to live.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger532125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-44827500594965591402013-10-23T23:54:00.000+08:002013-10-23T23:57:39.961+08:00I made everyone roar with laughter by cavorting into a foolish dance<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRkJQgid7Z91Mpvm1zb3yniYZPY_R_jQZSBH6pCq-07cJCNsF8G7T6nMErtAiKLSB2qS_j88D3pQqQxV1JgtWaSM5srIk3DQDfzxawx9V2msERU9M4RDI6JZczG5_EPt8U4kOlZl1Dukk/s1600/mygulchbooks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRkJQgid7Z91Mpvm1zb3yniYZPY_R_jQZSBH6pCq-07cJCNsF8G7T6nMErtAiKLSB2qS_j88D3pQqQxV1JgtWaSM5srIk3DQDfzxawx9V2msERU9M4RDI6JZczG5_EPt8U4kOlZl1Dukk/s640/mygulchbooks.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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...and because I was not the only person inside the bookstore, I made sure they will not remember my face or my name. Yes, I was that woman who cavorted into a funny giggle when she saw the name of Alice Munro and Doris Lessing resting among the stacks of tousled secondhand books. I was that.</div>
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I was supposed to watch a movie. Alone. Yes, I watch movies alone. It's more of a natural thing than a spur of the moment. It's just that lately, with the busy workload and tons of meetings, I have forgotten how to be alone. For a time, of course. </div>
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Aside from movie watching, I fell for reading again. And going to bookstores and booksales is like going steady with an old boyfriend for the second time. It's sweet as the first. Anyhow, my collection is getting huge again. My room is becoming more of a library than an actual room of a woman. My room consist of a bed with heaps of books inside.</div>
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Wednesday will become a habit. Aside from the badminton after office hours. Booksale hopping will be a nice habit. *smiling from ear to ear*</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-59934451517892922632013-05-30T14:09:00.001+08:002013-05-30T15:33:47.745+08:00I have been waiting for “it” to fall…<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic9Bun_ABESB9K0CuWaucozmqWZq9pR1ir53YfsOQ42YNnuZbRONRR36LsIsPk8tNXKEPdxxpFS0Bg7qoA1CGUAqYVlJ-ot6q-tYUHlINXlxxCghrJZSf0hpiig9OdeNifVRNJJT8EnGg/s1600/droplet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic9Bun_ABESB9K0CuWaucozmqWZq9pR1ir53YfsOQ42YNnuZbRONRR36LsIsPk8tNXKEPdxxpFS0Bg7qoA1CGUAqYVlJ-ot6q-tYUHlINXlxxCghrJZSf0hpiig9OdeNifVRNJJT8EnGg/s640/droplet.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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There are things in life that no matter how hard you try to
keep to yourself and to others will eventually show. No amount of mastery can
keep one’s face from being stoic all the time especially if your heart is
crushed. I've tried it once and found a tear dropping without me knowing it. As
a child, I grew up shy and undemonstrative (almost to the point of lying to myself). I
worry when someone observes me. I get paranoid when someone knew what goes in
my brain. What goes in my head is my
business so I always have to keep a cool face. </div>
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<i>[Postscript]</i></div>
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dearest droplet,</div>
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You continue to rock my world. I have watched you and waited
for you to fall, but you did not. You hanged in that old, wet trunk for too
long. My feet got tired, my hands went numbed but you kept your stance. You
never gave in. And just when I have decided to give up, to leave…in a wink of an eye, you
dropped. Just like that. You could have warned me you know. I wanted you drop
on my hand. I wanted to save you.</div>
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still in awe,</div>
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the girl who likes to wait<br />
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I got a call this morning for a writing project. Yes, they will pay me. Tempting but my deadlines are way over the top :-( Crazy deadlines.<br />
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I have a crazy idea in my head. Three letters: PhD. And then a more crazy idea. Two words: Comparative Literature. Geezus, I should lessen my caffeine in take. I am having sleeping problems again. Two weeks in a row!<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-51161516613541160942013-05-06T20:56:00.000+08:002013-05-06T20:56:42.524+08:00You sting like the bees<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6kCH_-WpcSVA_NDYYBv9VyoyXw5Dyc0h4k5YyXMk3kytjO1pxEMCbkMlUGIu6deiCTXUFthxFCz471VLvp3xc1IzBECWV31SAaM3dtQ7E51YdbbNS58KqqC0qzPGc74qr_PjyyUiOUbM/s1600/DSC_4080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6kCH_-WpcSVA_NDYYBv9VyoyXw5Dyc0h4k5YyXMk3kytjO1pxEMCbkMlUGIu6deiCTXUFthxFCz471VLvp3xc1IzBECWV31SAaM3dtQ7E51YdbbNS58KqqC0qzPGc74qr_PjyyUiOUbM/s640/DSC_4080.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Like the fire that ignites, pain can sometimes consume an emotion. I let myself be stung by the bees and felt nothing for awhile. Until I saw my skin swell and felt one of the bees' barbed stinger lingered . A friend told me I have a high tolerance for pain, I could have not known that. Pain is something that is so familiar that tolerance becomes an understatement. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-45562312729536249762013-01-15T22:19:00.002+08:002013-02-14T14:18:28.966+08:00Looking for the edges<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9hyphenhyphen4uRQTNcEytHG07YzzeCiT6AYZzTnfAxBAOuGWEz1d0R92y8d0dhmdtUS4Zfwx1ahhi63zsS0PFx5TcGIB1NVXB_DhYfpjHC21qyH69aewo_rLty8fWCaVU9V6Yfj3Wmmj6dsN1NtE/s1600/DSC_4082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9hyphenhyphen4uRQTNcEytHG07YzzeCiT6AYZzTnfAxBAOuGWEz1d0R92y8d0dhmdtUS4Zfwx1ahhi63zsS0PFx5TcGIB1NVXB_DhYfpjHC21qyH69aewo_rLty8fWCaVU9V6Yfj3Wmmj6dsN1NtE/s640/DSC_4082.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>The song’s in my head again<br />
Of things that I never said<br />
In my heart you’ll hear the words<br />
It’s heard in the things we do</i></div>
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<i>- Melee</i></div>
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I do not know how long have I been staring at this sliding door, but the colors from the stained glass just engulfed me. </div>
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It conjures images. It enticed me to look further...to wait. But no one came. He did not even show his face.</div>
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<b><i>[postscript]</i></b></div>
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Our golden ret was found yesterday. Well, she was not really found, she just came home to us. She must have strayed away for days and was not able to come back. She looked famished and she was really smelling awful the day she arrived. But we were all happy that she came back.</div>
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I have not seen MB for ages. Literally. I could tell you the days, but that would just make things worst. No amount of cheesecake could pacify the feeling. I could eat a whole cake and the feeling won't go away.</div>
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In a matter of days, my Leave of Absence will be over. I will be working again, bound for my 8-5 job. Not that I don't like it, but it's nice being a bum. My remaining days is spent mostly inside the bookstores, cinemas, coffee shops, or at my parents' house practically sleeping the whole day. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-91913714011582757602013-01-03T08:25:00.004+08:002013-01-03T08:28:51.411+08:00I have always loved Sara Teasdale<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvDyJAMcBhx_dBC-QpK4FOAxSDOAxbLrUfDUZdnJ-AKI98W-tg0IzTS_FUtEufsEOSag5Bn4OXXimH55EqfRPc-s4F4n9YvLdOfycHl_s1O0znEWJygwGsIlFsypwGOl4nrbJZTwQo3Vc/s1600/DSC_9998.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvDyJAMcBhx_dBC-QpK4FOAxSDOAxbLrUfDUZdnJ-AKI98W-tg0IzTS_FUtEufsEOSag5Bn4OXXimH55EqfRPc-s4F4n9YvLdOfycHl_s1O0znEWJygwGsIlFsypwGOl4nrbJZTwQo3Vc/s640/DSC_9998.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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...yes Sara the Poet. I have discovered her simplicity of words and the way she threads them just mesmerize me. She's like a thief, always saying what I am about to say. She has great eloquence, while I have scarcity. 2013 started quite of a surprise. Our golden ret was missing on New Year's Day. We've looked for her everywhere and was not found. She got scared of the fire crackers and those shitty noises. The next morning she's lost. One of our neighbors informed us that they heard a dog being butchered the other night. Those son of a gun dogeaters! I would break their heads off if I see them.</div>
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[postscript:]</div>
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As if I have so much time in my hand, I started a new blog with a friend who is also a fellow blogger. It's called: <a href="http://raytsbaron.wordpress.com/"><span style="color: orange;"><b>raytsbaron</b></span></a>, a collaboration to exchange creative necessity. It's an outlet for the creative minds, more of poetry, prose, photos and the likes. Not that I cannot do it here but initially, I was planning to close down this blog for good. But I changed my mind. I am too sentimental these days. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-8694681499241189462012-12-31T07:53:00.004+08:002012-12-31T07:53:51.711+08:00Goodbye 2012...and cheers to 2013!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU_vZNvLkzCQnY57sbeUaJYdivo7g5XgGEXT1SnCgzmU2g2x6_iGEUY3o9aImZlAsvkKComYtnYB28hI0XvwlrVW07b7HiJ7hXcn5vi8FHwTzpO1HsNGFcJSETyXS-EDOAI39pqOzIUiU/s1600/DSC_0069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU_vZNvLkzCQnY57sbeUaJYdivo7g5XgGEXT1SnCgzmU2g2x6_iGEUY3o9aImZlAsvkKComYtnYB28hI0XvwlrVW07b7HiJ7hXcn5vi8FHwTzpO1HsNGFcJSETyXS-EDOAI39pqOzIUiU/s640/DSC_0069.JPG" width="428" /></a></div>
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I may have broken a few wine glasses in 2012 and rest assured that I will break some more in 2013. But I guess the best thing about it is that whenever I break one (conscious or not), I make sure that I have enjoyed the wine I was drinking before it gets broken.Thank you 2012 for the memories, blessings, heartaches, disappointments, and reasons to wake up every morning. CHEERS to a new 2013!!!</div>
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Happy New Year everyone!!! :)</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-49084615816372923362012-12-30T11:21:00.000+08:002012-12-30T11:21:10.945+08:00This strap is as important...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbLKVIeDNfTTOKiUeXMUrPLt-6TIMl2DnJAKNlBITEs5ZPIBT4X33oVj9L2QLA_iY9H42i8x9DvANVEpD1Kzkub5_CrSiUnMFcxL-T5xqFGEVl5Xch9hQItH3r4o9bvRrFekT_aKJ3CQ/s1600/68903_10151382401542905_577660741_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbLKVIeDNfTTOKiUeXMUrPLt-6TIMl2DnJAKNlBITEs5ZPIBT4X33oVj9L2QLA_iY9H42i8x9DvANVEpD1Kzkub5_CrSiUnMFcxL-T5xqFGEVl5Xch9hQItH3r4o9bvRrFekT_aKJ3CQ/s640/68903_10151382401542905_577660741_n.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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This photo was taken by a friend, <b><span style="color: orange;">Sidney Snoeck</span></b> in one of our outreach activities in Tondo. More than me, being in this image, I really liked how he was able to capture my camera strap. He may not know it, but to me this strap is as important (or perhaps more important) than the camera itself. MB gave this strap to me on my birthday. And I have been using it ever since. Crazy as it may sound but it's one of the most important gifts I had ever received that year. He knew I badly needed a strap on my neck. :-p</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-43512529170895626052012-12-29T09:17:00.000+08:002012-12-29T09:17:55.293+08:00This tree makes me feel a bit nostalgic<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2cdkV77kFa_Sm4pHoknFXAyXoETwbVFpi4AhvVCliYM4osUxYBXUEqQOgvv2tyElyPoDa8Of01NLiVNTN0UIRGfkzFOQqAecl4Rk3gSqtM77xWo6vyzZLr2eGFelvR6ZMN-ufNlnY2vk/s1600/DSC_6112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2cdkV77kFa_Sm4pHoknFXAyXoETwbVFpi4AhvVCliYM4osUxYBXUEqQOgvv2tyElyPoDa8Of01NLiVNTN0UIRGfkzFOQqAecl4Rk3gSqtM77xWo6vyzZLr2eGFelvR6ZMN-ufNlnY2vk/s640/DSC_6112.JPG" width="428" /></a></div>
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This Christmas Tree has been in the family for as long as I could remember. Prior to that, we've only had the "real" Christmas tree every year. My father is a gardener, and he's been growing some tree that my mother would often ask to cut so that we could have a tree for the season. Then my siblings and I would decorate them for the holidays. Before the New Year, the tree would dry up and would really look ugly. It looked like an old lady with all those heavy, colorful bangles hanging around her hair. When my mother bought this Christmas Tree, things started to change. We grew up, we changed house, my siblings had their own families and the tree is still there. Standing tall every Christmas Eve. :)</div>
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[postscript]</div>
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MB greeted me on Christmas Day. Two hours before December 26 started. It was a conscious effort not to text him. Usually, I take the initiative to greet him first. I just wanted this year to be different. When he did not greet me on the morning of Christmas day, I thought he'd forgotten. And I felt okay with that. Then at 10 PM, usually, his bed time, he greeted me. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-21932179400882626542012-10-01T13:05:00.003+08:002012-10-01T13:09:05.555+08:00Lately all my thoughts have gone to you...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrI2x8Yqj7JbEmkVDflJOL3y8WiPS3NW4zenrgHiKivJmrYdlgLhYsz4QVLzGiZAFH4oHC2xCPGnZ7fcC5QxZSFA3x4ORzP-6bgniiu2jlzSKZrNQFj45fn9_BEDwPyx6QETf927dmNMQ/s1600/painting+at+NSW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrI2x8Yqj7JbEmkVDflJOL3y8WiPS3NW4zenrgHiKivJmrYdlgLhYsz4QVLzGiZAFH4oHC2xCPGnZ7fcC5QxZSFA3x4ORzP-6bgniiu2jlzSKZrNQFj45fn9_BEDwPyx6QETf927dmNMQ/s640/painting+at+NSW.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">I woke up when September
ended and found out I don’t want it to end. October never promised a new
beginning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">This morning I woke up with a
really painful chest. I checked my heart and it’s beating normally. It looked
normal, beating in every second. But I could feel the pain so much that I burst
into a cry. No amount of medicine could make it subside. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I should have not looked at
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-26866712726489753612012-06-01T14:35:00.000+08:002012-10-01T12:56:58.415+08:00Rainbow<div>
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We both saw it. While yo were feasting on the rainbow
itself, I was looking for the pot of gold at the end of it. But the spirit of
the forrest came to me first and hid it. Like what always happens.</div>
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Every night is a struggle these days. My “sickness” is
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-25948703468856295972012-05-16T13:40:00.004+08:002013-05-02T23:43:59.887+08:00My poetic tree<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Perhaps, if we search away the world and find one tree that would
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Valley, a remote community in Sultan Kudarat.</div>
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I have always been fascinated with trees with no leaves,
almost lifeless but still actively breathing, standing tall amongst the many
green, lush fellow trees. This particular tree has a soul and I felt it the
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MB took a shot with me staring at this tree. The sky was at
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<b><span style="color: orange;">[postscript]</span></b></div>
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<i>The other day I received a manila envelope. It has my name on it. I recognized the handwriting but I was clueless what's inside. I opened it and found three (3) hand sanitizers. It contains my favorite scent in the world. Three hand sanitizers. Does it mean anything? Three? Why not one? Two? But three? Okay, I am over analyzing again. As of this writing I am about to finish the first bottle. Geez, it's so addicting!</i></div>
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<i>I will be in Batanes attending a (very special) wedding this coming Saturday. One of my closest friends from college will tie the knot after more than a decade of being with with a man that I practically knew since we were in second year college. I wish NEVER to cry in her wedding. Not in a dress and a high-heeled shoes. brrr.</i></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-85923648385208035562012-03-14T09:47:00.005+08:002012-04-04T07:15:36.455+08:00Will they cry if I die?<p class="MsoNormal">I was at <b><a href="http://balihaigardenrestaurant.com/"><span>Bali Hai</span></a></b> last night with friends and co-writers from graduate school. I haven’t seen them for awhile and finding a schedule for us to meet was just a pain in the ass. I am usually not around or someone is. Until last night. </p><p class="MsoNormal">In the midst of those shimmering, gold hanging ornaments and the mood-like atmosphere of Bali, each of us told our stories, vented, updated. I also wanted to vent but had second thoughts about it. I am really selfish when it comes to sharing my deepest thoughts in a crowd. I get intimidated by the anticipated reactions. I wanted to tell them what has been bothering me for the longest time, but thought, “nah…they won’t be interested.” Besides, their stories are far more interesting than what I had to say. So anyway, while one of them was telling her story about this common friend of ours, my mind wandered. And I looked at each one of them and thought: “Will they cry if I die? I mean really cry and be hurt and be miserable because of my lost?” Geez, the thoughts inside my head were just swirling away into the wind. Maybe they will cry but they will not be miserable. They will move on. Eventually a day or two.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">That same night, someone texted me: "Hi 2 days ka nang parang sad ha. Hope all is well. Although i respect ur privacy. D2 lng me just a txt away. Godbless". I did not reply. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-size: 100%; ">After the crazy thoughts. Each of us had a couple of SMB before we called it a night. We need to go to work the next day. One thing I realized that night though, I miss being drunk!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: normal; "><o:p></o:p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-12637800164516175802012-02-02T10:23:00.011+08:002012-02-02T11:10:36.096+08:00All set for the outreachOur group is all set for the coming Feb 4 outreach. I am happy because of the outpour of people who wanted to help us in this activity. A lot of our friends and officemates were gracious enough in giving money, effort, prayers just to push through with the activity. We’ve even solicited more than enough for the scholarship program of PEARLS. My boss donated money for one scholar, which made me really happy. :-)<div><br /></div><div>We called ourselves <b><span><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff9900;">D' HOPEfulls</span></span></b> for obvious reasons. We have high hopes for this country and for the Filipinos. This is the first activity of our group and we wanted to do more. We do not look at the little effort, only the big impact it could create.<br /><br /><div><div><div><p align="center" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="packing the kits" src="http://img534.imageshack.us/img534/1644/photo2qkh.jpg" style="text-align: left;" /></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-size: 11px;"><b><i></i></b></span></span></p></div><div><p></p> <b><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff9900;">Last week, with the help of our very passionate and able friends, we were able to pack the hygiene kits for 200 kids. We will distribute this on Feb 4. The kit contains shampoo, toothpaste, toothbrush, face towel, etc. which the kids in Ulingan could use everyday.</span></span></i></b></div></b><br /><div><div><div><p align="center" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="origami is so much fun" src="http://img824.imageshack.us/img824/9236/photo1wf.jpg" style="text-align: left;" /></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-size: 11px;"><b><i></i></b></span></span></p></div><div><p></p> <b><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span><i><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff9900;">This week, we taught Origami (the art of folding paper) to our group and the other volunteers who will join us during the outreach. We will teach this to the kids of Ulingan. What I like about Origami is that it keeps you focus and "no scissors needed" as what I usually say.</span></i></span></b></div></b><br /><div><div><div><p align="center" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="origami!" src="http://img837.imageshack.us/img837/36/photo3pf.jpg" style="text-align: left;" /></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-size: 11px;"><b><i></i></b></span></span></p></div><div><p></p> <div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff9900;">Origami...cranes, balls...we will also teach them how to make paper box so that they could put the cranes and the balls in it.</span></span></i></b></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">As of today, we still continue to receive donations and pledges. We told them about <span style="><span style="><b><a href="www.projectpearls.org">Project PEARLS</a></b></span> so that even though we're done with the Feb 4 outreach, help and assistance will still continue to pour. We also told them about the Saturday feeding program which they could regularly participate in. </p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p></div><div><div><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN-US"></span></i></p></div><div><p></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p><p></p></div><div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div></div></div></div></div><div>Again, thank you <a href="http://my_sarisari_store.typepad.com/"><span style="color:#ff9900;"><b>Sidney Snoeck</b></span></a> for introducing <b>PEARLS </b>to us. You are are blessing to us. I am also in great awe for what you have been doing for the Filipino and for this country. Thank you! </div><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-19348551295605083682012-02-01T12:09:00.002+08:002012-02-01T12:13:52.655+08:00K-A-R-E-N<p class="MsoNormal">I met a girl named Karen. She is 75 percent Chinese. I don’t know her surname just her first name as shown in her name tag. She’s a bank teller. I have been going to this particular bank for five years now and I always see her. Going to this particular bank irritates me because of the poor service. The queue is killing me. They have adopted this new computerized system of queuing that is quite unbearable for me.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">But somehow, I found a way to divert my boredom and irritation by looking at Karen. She was the first person I look for whenever I enter the bank. I don’t know what it is about her but I am drawn to her. Her kindness and enthusiasm warms my heart.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Two weeks ago, I had the chance of having a more-than-a-glance encounter with her. I was making a transaction and she was the one who attended to my inquiries. My instinct was right. She’s a nice person. Maybe she’s nice to all the clients but I sense sincerity in the way she talks to me. It’s as if we’ve known each other for a long time. She asked me about my work and asked if I have vacant hours. I told her I am being paid to write down my thoughts. In between I could drink coffee and talk to the walls. She smiled. I don’t know what she was thinking but I believe I had caught her interest.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">This morning, I saw her again. She was surprised to see me. I was (more than) happy to see her. I asked her if she’s fluent in Mandarin. She said “yes”.</p><p class="MsoNormal">--------</p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>postscript:</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>"something within me is not right. i could not exactly tell what and how it started but i feel it growing worse everyday. it's like my heart is bursting every time it hurts. the pain does not compensate for anything. it heals and breaks on its own." ~ letter to coffeebeans (2-1-12)</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><br /></i></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-70449459860411081022012-01-16T12:50:00.003+08:002012-01-16T14:00:18.689+08:00A day with the Ulingan Kids, please support us!<div><div><p align="center" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="they're sisters. the sister feeds the younger and because she could not eat, I volunteered to feed her while she feeds her little sister" src="http://img195.imageshack.us/img195/9097/ulinganoutreachposter.jpg" style="text-align: left;" /></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span ><span style="font-size: 11px;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We will sponsor one Saturday for the Ulingan Kids in Tondo on February 4. Please help us raise the funds we need. We will also distribute hygiene kits to 200 kids for them to use. </p><p class="MsoNormal">All proceeds will go to Project Pearls. To know more about their programs and their advocacy, please visit their site at: <a href="http://www.projectpearls.org/">www.projectpearls.org</a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p></div><div><div><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN-US"></span></i></p></div><div><p></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p><p></p></div><div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-46430254417209546612012-01-09T12:04:00.008+08:002012-01-09T17:22:05.783+08:00Ulingan Kids in Tondo and meeting Sidney (yea, the famous Sidney Snoeck)<div><div><p align="center" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="they're sisters. the sister feeds the younger and because she could not eat, I volunteered to feed her while she feeds her little sister" src="http://img831.imageshack.us/img831/1000/pearls.jpg" style="text-align: left;" /></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(82, 83, 121); font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px; "><b><i>“The lives we touch will touch many others. When you bring encouragement, humor, hope, fun and positive energy, you touch lives you have never met. That’s the Ripple Effect. Life is short and time is precious. Waste not a single minute.”</i> – Michael Potter </b></span><br style="color: rgb(82, 83, 121); font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px; "></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Oki </i>and I met <b><span><a href="http://my_sarisari_store.typepad.com/">Sidney</a> </span></b>on a Saturday morning to go to Ulingan, a slum and garbage dumpsite community in Tondo, Manila. Sidney picked us up together with the other volunteers who would joined the outreach. We got there on-time. Oki specifically told me that Sidney would not wait for late-comers. I smiled and said, "of course, we should be there on time. Filipino time is always on time!"</p><p class="MsoNormal">Everything I know about the <b><a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.projectpearls.org"><span>PEARLS Project</span></a></b>, I first heard from Sidney and then from Oki when she reiterated that we should volunteer and so I searched about it. It was from here that we decided to sponsor one Saturday to feed and teach 200 kids and (perhaps) sponsor at least a scholar. To do this, we would solicit from friends and people we know. All proceeds will go to PEARLS. This will be on Feb. 4. Oki asked me to make a poster for this activity so that it's easier to solicit and spread the word. </p><p class="MsoNormal">Everything is in order (as of the moment). A lot of our friends had already signified their interest and pledges for the activity. I will post the poster here soon.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Anyway, our first experience in Ulingan was exhausting but definitely rewarding. I have no problems with poor sanitation, lack of water, dust, rats...but I was having a rough time getting through the thick, black smoke coming from the Ulingan factory. But anyways, I managed.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I encouraged Oki to go there again before our Feb 4 outreach, if time permits. I fell in love with the Ulingan kids. They are so "malambig" (sweet) ... but my heart breaks for their conditions. They seem to be contented with what they have amidst the extreme poverty and the health risk caused by the ulingan factory. I wish there would be medical missions for PEARLS. I wish I could do more!</p><p class="MsoNormal">Oh, did I just mention I met Sidney already? After eight years, he said, we met in the flesh! A nice fella as I have expected him to be. He doesn't like his photos to be taken, but I guest I was too stubborn to follow such a request (or was it an order?). I also met his adorable son, Bryan, a nice-looking kid who speaks Dutch, French, English, Filipino, and Bicol. He plays rugby! :)</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p></div><div><div><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN-US"></span></i></p></div><div><p></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p><p></p></div><div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-79342713767862609192012-01-03T11:17:00.002+08:002012-01-03T11:28:33.868+08:00I miss being with the kids<div><div><p align="center" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="i think more than the help i could extend it's being with them that give me more comfort" src="http://img716.imageshack.us/img716/5484/beingwithkids.jpg" style="text-align: left;" /></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal">I just came from an outreach that my DGroup conducted recently in a rehab center in Taguig. I love doing outreach activities for the kids. I think more than the help I could give and the time I could spend with them, they are giving me much more than I could offer. Spending time with them, seeing the smiles on their faces, and feeling their gratitude as if we have already given them the future (when in fact it was just a day)…is the most rewarding feeling which I could not contain. It's like I wish I could give them more...</p> <p class="MsoNormal">This February, a friend, <b>OKI</b> is organizing another outreach activity. She’s eyeing the <b><span ><a href="http://www.projectpearls.org/index.html">Pearl Project</a></span></b> as the beneficiary. We first saw and learned about it through <b><span ><a href="http://my_sarisari_store.typepad.com/">Sidney</a></span></b>. Oki is already based in Japan and will return in March so hopefully everything goes smoothly before she leaves the country.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p></div><div><div><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN-US"></span></i></p></div><div><p></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p><p></p></div><div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-31287196640895574782011-10-19T13:35:00.002+08:002011-10-19T13:40:19.271+08:00People cry not because they are weak.<div><div><p align="center" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="there is a bird that was meant to be alone" src="http://img835.imageshack.us/img835/663/alonemk.jpg" style="text-align: left;" /></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p>It's because they have been too strong for too long. </div><div><div><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN-US"></span></i></p></div><div><p></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p><p></p></div><div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-61856868868874743372011-09-29T17:32:00.009+08:002011-09-29T18:13:15.485+08:00There are those things that you can only do when you have the time in your handIt was early morning when work was cancelled. There’s no electricity in the apartment so my housemate and I still opted to go to the office hoping that we could finish some last minute work. Ho and behold the electricity in the office was cut too—all because of typhoon Pedring. The wind was howling and our umbrella were not spared from the strong winds. Nowhere to go, we opted to find refuge at the mall. The mall was operated by a generator so some of the stalls were closed, the main mall was like an oven in medium range. We went to all the bookstores we could find and practically spent the whole day in a coffeeshop reading the books we bought.<br /><br />I been wanting to do this—spent a whole day in a coffeeshop reading a book. Life as they say is a moment. And you get to do this only if you have the time in your hands. After some hours in the coffeeshop, cups of cappucino and americano, I finished the book and felt happy for that one particular, stormy day. Perspective is everything. :-)<br /><div><div><p align="center" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="picking he right color entails a good perspective" src="http://img855.imageshack.us/img855/4447/bookcoffee1.jpg" style="text-align: left;" /></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><i><b></b></i><center><i><b>Inspirational books--very timely for such a stormy weather.</b></i></center></div><div><br /></div><div><div><div><p align="center" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="picking he right color entails a good perspective" src="http://img13.imageshack.us/img13/7030/bookcoffee2.jpg" style="text-align: left;" /></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><b><i></i></b><center><b><i>I had 2 cups. I am starting to love this coffee shop. </i>:-)</b></center></div><div><br /></div><div><p></p><p></p><p></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;">------</p><div><p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN-US"><b>[random thoughts...]</b></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal">I will be in Bukidnon next week for a 4-day coverage. I hope every thing works well. The 'segment producer' will not be around so I'll have to make amends. </p><p class="MsoNormal">-----</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>"Perspective is everything"</b> -- a mantra I choose to chant every morning. </p> -----</div><div><br /><i> she fights, like a loyal soldier she does<br />in minds, in spirit--she fights<br />sometimes she wins, </i></div><div><i>in most cases she (just) gives in</i></div><div><i>never for the lack of will,</i></div><div><i>never for the lack of hope,</i></div><div><i>she gives in because she got tired--</i></div><div><i>tired of waiting.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >* someone wrote in my journal, a girl I know in spirit (only)*</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div> <i><span lang="EN-US"></span></i><p></p></div><div><p></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p><p></p></div><div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-88588643839779264812011-09-26T09:50:00.009+08:002011-09-26T12:18:55.534+08:00In life, sometimes you just can't pick on the colors you like and wear it<div><div><p align="center" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="picking he right color entails a good perspective" src="http://img641.imageshack.us/img641/8131/pickingcolors.jpg" style="text-align: left;" /></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p>That's because sometimes, the color that you like is not available or out-of-stock. My point is, although we were meant to believe that we do have a choice, the truth is sometimes (or most of the times), we don't.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>In the photo: A young lady is picking a summer dress for my niece. I asked for pink, but they don't have it so I opted for the aqua blue.</i><br /><p></p><p></p><p></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;">------</p><div><p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN-US"><b>[random thoughts...]</b></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal">The other day, a guy friend told me something that put me at the edge of my seat (figuratively). He was taking his usual drag that night and I noticed his sullen face. I asked him why he's been sad the past few days. Right then, he told me what's bothering him. I didn't even know that my observation was valid. I feel for him. He's been a nice friend and I hope everything turns out well for him. I wanted to reach out but I promised to keep every thing just between us. He's my male version--we like to keep things to ourselves. Letting other people think that we're okay even though we're rotten inside.</p><p class="MsoNormal">-----</p><p class="MsoNormal">The last few days, I have realized one thing and one thing only: <b>EVERYONE is graduating</b> except me! A friend of mine who's taking her Master's in Antwerp has just gotten her diploma recently, she'll be coming home next month and celebrate the good news with us. Another one from my friends just texted me last night that she passed her comprehensive exam in De La Salle and she will be graduating this coming March. Geezus.</p><p class="MsoNormal">-----</p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>"I broke the silence and he broke my heart."</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN-US"></span></i></p></div><div><p></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p><p></p></div><div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-75822894612218007762011-09-23T10:44:00.005+08:002011-09-23T13:49:03.064+08:00If I touch your hand, would you avoid it?<div><p align="center" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="i dream of touching your hand" src="http://img339.imageshack.us/img339/3814/touchc.jpg" style="text-align: left;" /></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal">Once, you told me about this girl who tried to hold your hand and how in an effort not to hurt her feelings, you change the topic of your conversation and avoided touching her hand. And then you asked me, wondering why after that incident, “di na siya nagparamdam”. <i>Sa isip ko lang, "manhid ka ba or nagpapansin lang?" </i>Then I felt (sorry) for the girl.<i> </i><span></span></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;">------</p><div><p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN-US"><b>[random thoughts...]</b></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal">I miss going to my favorite bookstore. It's too far from the office and the only thing I could do after work is go home and pray that I would be able to sleep (earlier) than usual. My body has been aching for ENOUGH sleep. But this stupid brain is monkey-hunting again.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I overshoot my expenses last month, hence the need to deprive myself of the "luxuries" -- I want new books, a new prime lens, a new watch, and a new backpack. blah. dream on!</p><p class="MsoNormal">I miss having coffee with myself. =/ I miss singing in a videoke with my friends. I miss Korean food. </p><p class="MsoNormal">I wanted to watch the DFF Concert. I wanted to see Sunshine Corazon sing live. Bullocks, they have overpriced the tickets. Was it because Michael Bolton was in it? Bleh. <i>Antayin ko na lang sa youtube, hehe.</i></p><p class="MsoNormal">I received my official invitation from China yesterday. Hmm.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN-US"></span></i></p></div><div><p></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p><p></p></div><div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-52354811361367731982011-09-21T16:48:00.007+08:002011-09-21T21:59:48.125+08:00Sometimes you think too much that you miss out on the important details<div><p align="center" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="you shimmer like the first morning light" src="http://img638.imageshack.us/img638/2581/salagdoongsunrise.jpg" style="text-align: left;" /></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal">I was awakened by a deafening silence. I searched for the clock and it said 3:30 AM. I remembered closing my eyes at around 2 AM and my mind went on “monkey-hunting” again—wondering from places to places, only to end up to this lingering image…yours.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >In the photo: Salagdoong Beach, Siquijor</span></i></p><p></p><p></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;">------</p><div><p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN-US"><b>[random thoughts...]</b></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal">I was a bit rude to MB (or so I think). I felt he was reaching out to me but I was busy with feeling "toxic" that I did not care enough. "Kamusta ka na?" he asked. "Ahm, okay lang." I replied. Then he asked again, "are you really okay? parang hinde eh." He was right, I felt ill that day. I hate saying it but he reads me so well.</p><p class="MsoNormal">If every thing works out well, I will be in Beijing in November. I've been dreaming of Badaling. Hopefully I get to "walk in to these great walls".</p><p class="MsoNormal">I have been stonewalling again. =(</p><p class="MsoNormal">I have been thinking on the idea of buying a prime lens but there's just too many expenses to consider first. I want a new TNF backpack.</p><p class="MsoNormal">October 25--> a date I should remember.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN-US"></span></i></p></div><div><p></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p><p></p></div><div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-69836445967701329762011-09-15T16:56:00.003+08:002011-09-15T17:07:03.218+08:00I have been alone with you inside my mind<p align="center" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="my eyes are the extension of my heart" src="http://img692.imageshack.us/img692/9276/hiseyesu.jpg" style="text-align: left;" /></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I am addicted to the horrible pain of wanting somone so unattainable.</span></p><p></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;">------</p><div><p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN-US">You could see me reaching...so why couldn't you have met me half way? ~ Incubus</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></i></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p><p></p></div><div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-31117588317063269112011-07-12T10:54:00.005+08:002011-07-12T11:24:20.983+08:00The space between us...<p align="center" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="once in our lives, there was an US" src="http://img695.imageshack.us/img695/6865/therewasus.jpg" /></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;">...although invisible, will always set both our hearts apart. </p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;">------</p><div><p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><o:p></o:p></i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><b><i> </i></b></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><i>[postscript]</i></b></p><p class="MsoNormal">Off to Baras in a while...</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p><p></p></div><div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015032357539449473.post-7961371822632929892011-06-30T21:10:00.006+08:002011-06-30T21:26:35.604+08:00The heart is a lonely hunter<p align="center" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="looking out for her" src="http://img148.imageshack.us/img148/8486/lookingoutforher.jpg" /></p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;">You're always looking out for her...making sure she's okay, making sure she's being cared for...even from a distance; exactly what I have been doing...always looking out for you.</p><p align="center" style="text-align: left;">------</p><div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i>[postscript]</i></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>sabi niya</b>: Isang libro lang ang value mo, di sapat para i-book launch.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>sabi ko</b>: Okay lang, hardbound naman at dahil nag-iisa, hard to find.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><br /></i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p><p></p></div><div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div><div><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3