An excerpt from The Mockingjay, book three of the Hunger Games series:
“I feel the bow purring in my hand. Reach back and grasp the arrow. Position it, aim at the rose, but watch his face. He coughs and a bloody dribble runs down his chin. His tongue flicks over his puffy lips. I search his eyes for the slightest sign of anything, fear, remorse, anger. But there’s only the same look of amusement that ended our last conversation. “Oh, my dear Miss Everdeen. I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other.”
He’s right we did.
The point of my arrow shifts upward. I release the string. And President Coin collapses over the side of the balcony and plunges to the ground. Dead.
.......................................................................................
Question:
Do you think Katniss planned to kill Coin before she went out to supposedly execute Snow, or did she make that decision to kill Coin right when she was about to shoot the arrow?
My answer: Katniss planned to kill coin before Snow's execution.
Angelo's answer: It was a last-minute decision.
The winner's prize: One pack of Virginia hotdog
Some thoughts:
When Katniss agreed to continue the Hunger Games using Capitol children (as a tribute to Prim), I was sure Katniss was forming a strategy in her head. Suzanne Collin's novel is an allegory of sorts and one thing that you could reflect upon as you read the book is that if you replace one form of government, you could be replacing it with an equality ineffective, albeit different form or government.
The Hunger Games was the very symbol of the dictatorship and oppression of the Capitol. Katniss, the Mockingjay, was the symbol of freedom. Katniss couldn't have been truly supporting Coin's plan to continue the Hunger Games.
April 11, 2012
March 04, 2012
Breaking Free
I'm doing exactly as I please--
forgetting all troubles,
singing my heart out,
eating close to perdition...
And inside
feeling contented,
catapulted again --
being born once more,
not thinking
of the things I should have done
but never have.
A new paradigm
is mine for the taking.
forgetting all troubles,
singing my heart out,
eating close to perdition...
And inside
feeling contented,
catapulted again --
being born once more,
not thinking
of the things I should have done
but never have.
A new paradigm
is mine for the taking.
August 03, 2011
The Write Thing
Joanne Kathleen Rowling always loved to write. She wanted to become a writer, but did not think she would get a publisher to be interested. She had no publishing credits, no insider knowledge, no friends in the industry.
J. K. Rowling first conceived of the idea about Harry Potter in 1990. It was on a four-hour-delayed train trip where she began to create the characters in her mind. When she reached her flat, she began writing immediately.
However, it would take several years to come to fruition. In 1991, she got a job as an English teacher in Portugal, where she met her first husband. But after a couple of years, the couple split. So she returned to England in 1994, still trying to finish her first book. In 1995, she finished her manuscript of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. She found an agent who spent over a year trying to get a publisher. A small publishing house, Bloomsbury, agreed to take the book on. And the rest is history. To date, she is the best-selling author in the history of literature.
As you can see, J.K. Rowling didn’t always know she will create one of the most famous books of her time. But every journey begins with a single step.
Maybe you have always wanted to become a writer, but feel uncertain how to begin. How about starting with something small? You can always try small freelance jobs. Write articles and provide content for websites. Write for various online journalism sites. Write and sell 100-page ebooks.
But wait, do not just write. Always try to be a better writer. Your next article, story or poem may be better than the last one, so sharpen your writing skills. Here are some things that will get you on the road to improvement.
Read. Voraciously. Read anything you can get your hands on. Listen to audio books when you’re driving or commuting. Read the works of good and bad writers. Determine what is good writing and what is not. Take note of the author's style. Even when you are already creative and talented, there will always be a thing or two that you may emulate from the masters.
Practice makes perfect. Write whenever, wherever. Keep a journal handy and keep the writing juices flowing. Scribble notes and fleeting ideas. Write down snippets of conversation that you hear. When you’re not writing for money, just write for the sake of writing. Create a blog. Write your own blog with something that you are interested in and something that others are interested in. Even letters, emails and long text messages are opportunities to practice writing. Express your thoughts and emotions.
Build your vocabulary. You are bound to be more expressive when you have a wide vocabulary. When you write, use carefully chosen words that flow naturally. Convey the precise shade of meaning you have in mind. Get acquainted and make friends with the dictionary. One caveat though: do not let highfalutin words trick you into thinking you are a good writer just because you use such words. Make your work a pleasure to read but be accurate and easy to understand.
Do not just write for yourself; think about your audience. Change your writing genre for your audience just as you change your clothing for the weather or the occasion. Keep in mind the impact your work will have on the group of people who will read them. Put yourself in your reader's head. Taylor your writing to a purpose. Find a niche. Entertain, teach, solve a problem or fill a need. Learn about what sells in your market. Be the best that you can be in the field that you choose. Certainly, the client's, publisher’s or editor’s opinion matters, but you can work your way into them by thinking of the readers first.
Don’t let anything stop you. Persevere. Sometimes there will be an idea in your head and you will not have the words to write it down with. You will remember your terror English teacher and how you went through your Formal Theme Number 1 way back 5th grade. Don’t tense up. Just Relax. Allow yourself to make a crappy first draft. Write terrible prose and poetry. Go back and revise. Or throw it away and start over.
Which brings me to the next tip: know how to edit and proofread. However much time you took in writing your first draft, you will always find mistakes to correct when your read it again. Brush up on grammar. Do not break any rule unless you have a very good reason. Get rid of dangling modifiers and double negatives. Kill clunky sentences. Make your work clear, correct and complete. If you write drunk, edit sober. Editing your own work is an important part of writing. Do not depend on computer programs because there isn't one that will make your work totally free of errors. For instance, a spell checker will identify mistakes on spelling but it will not catch real words that are used inappropriately. A language software will not identify all grammatical and stylistic inconsistencies in your work. Some writers hate editing because it can be cumbersome. However, if you want to be a good writer, you need to edit and proofread.
If you do decide to go ahead and write a book, and you do finish one, introduce yourself to publishers. Ask someone you know to introduce you to an editor. Send an email or letter.
Consider getting an agent, just like J.K. Rowling did.
Good luck and keep on pecking at that keyboard.
J. K. Rowling first conceived of the idea about Harry Potter in 1990. It was on a four-hour-delayed train trip where she began to create the characters in her mind. When she reached her flat, she began writing immediately.
However, it would take several years to come to fruition. In 1991, she got a job as an English teacher in Portugal, where she met her first husband. But after a couple of years, the couple split. So she returned to England in 1994, still trying to finish her first book. In 1995, she finished her manuscript of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. She found an agent who spent over a year trying to get a publisher. A small publishing house, Bloomsbury, agreed to take the book on. And the rest is history. To date, she is the best-selling author in the history of literature.
As you can see, J.K. Rowling didn’t always know she will create one of the most famous books of her time. But every journey begins with a single step.
Maybe you have always wanted to become a writer, but feel uncertain how to begin. How about starting with something small? You can always try small freelance jobs. Write articles and provide content for websites. Write for various online journalism sites. Write and sell 100-page ebooks.
But wait, do not just write. Always try to be a better writer. Your next article, story or poem may be better than the last one, so sharpen your writing skills. Here are some things that will get you on the road to improvement.
Read. Voraciously. Read anything you can get your hands on. Listen to audio books when you’re driving or commuting. Read the works of good and bad writers. Determine what is good writing and what is not. Take note of the author's style. Even when you are already creative and talented, there will always be a thing or two that you may emulate from the masters.
Practice makes perfect. Write whenever, wherever. Keep a journal handy and keep the writing juices flowing. Scribble notes and fleeting ideas. Write down snippets of conversation that you hear. When you’re not writing for money, just write for the sake of writing. Create a blog. Write your own blog with something that you are interested in and something that others are interested in. Even letters, emails and long text messages are opportunities to practice writing. Express your thoughts and emotions.
Build your vocabulary. You are bound to be more expressive when you have a wide vocabulary. When you write, use carefully chosen words that flow naturally. Convey the precise shade of meaning you have in mind. Get acquainted and make friends with the dictionary. One caveat though: do not let highfalutin words trick you into thinking you are a good writer just because you use such words. Make your work a pleasure to read but be accurate and easy to understand.
Do not just write for yourself; think about your audience. Change your writing genre for your audience just as you change your clothing for the weather or the occasion. Keep in mind the impact your work will have on the group of people who will read them. Put yourself in your reader's head. Taylor your writing to a purpose. Find a niche. Entertain, teach, solve a problem or fill a need. Learn about what sells in your market. Be the best that you can be in the field that you choose. Certainly, the client's, publisher’s or editor’s opinion matters, but you can work your way into them by thinking of the readers first.
Don’t let anything stop you. Persevere. Sometimes there will be an idea in your head and you will not have the words to write it down with. You will remember your terror English teacher and how you went through your Formal Theme Number 1 way back 5th grade. Don’t tense up. Just Relax. Allow yourself to make a crappy first draft. Write terrible prose and poetry. Go back and revise. Or throw it away and start over.
Which brings me to the next tip: know how to edit and proofread. However much time you took in writing your first draft, you will always find mistakes to correct when your read it again. Brush up on grammar. Do not break any rule unless you have a very good reason. Get rid of dangling modifiers and double negatives. Kill clunky sentences. Make your work clear, correct and complete. If you write drunk, edit sober. Editing your own work is an important part of writing. Do not depend on computer programs because there isn't one that will make your work totally free of errors. For instance, a spell checker will identify mistakes on spelling but it will not catch real words that are used inappropriately. A language software will not identify all grammatical and stylistic inconsistencies in your work. Some writers hate editing because it can be cumbersome. However, if you want to be a good writer, you need to edit and proofread.
If you do decide to go ahead and write a book, and you do finish one, introduce yourself to publishers. Ask someone you know to introduce you to an editor. Send an email or letter.
Consider getting an agent, just like J.K. Rowling did.
Good luck and keep on pecking at that keyboard.
February 20, 2011
Histamine Antagonist
Everything is still.
After weaving in and out of sleep, moaning, cursing the anti-histamine, twisting in my sheets, jabbing at my phone to distract myself--all at once I am calm. It’s midnight and everything is still. Something about the fullness of silence makes find the strength within myself to accept my illness. This is the sickest I've been for the longest time but soon I will recover and get out of the hospital.
The room is half-lit: only one of the two fluorescent lights are on, and the semi-darkness suits me. I touch the rashes on my skin and thankfully it's not so bad anymore. It's a miracle. Because every single day for the past week I have helplessly dreaded the onset of rashes late in the afternoon or early at night.
I dread the shots of Benadryl that burn my veins. The first time they injected me with the medicine I felt like I was going to pass out. It was as if there was not enough oxygen in the air and it was difficult to breathe. My body felt heavy and I thought I didn't have the strength to move. But by some force I was able to bring myself to the restroom to throw up. I told one of the doctors that Benadryl makes me vomit but he simply told me I may have associated it with nausea since I puked the first time I took the medicine. He did not seem worried but they never really do. I guess I'm sensitive to the drug. I would feel sedated a minute after taking it intravenously. Although my thoughts were clear, it would take some effort voicing responses when someone is talking to me.
When the effect of the Benadryl wears off, the itching starts all over again. At any rate, I need to discipline myself and ignore the itching because when an area of skin is scratched, that same area becomes even itchier, leading to more scratching. It's an annoying cycle.
The doctor where I work at said that I had Stevens–Johnson syndrome, which is a fatal allergic reaction to drugs and microorganisms. I literally did not believe him. But I followed his advice anyway and had myself admitted to the hospital.
There is no official epidemiology yet, but now more than ever I am certain that whatever allergy I have is not life-threatening. Still, it's almost disappointing how I could not help the doctors figure out the cause of my allergy. I could not accurately recall what I ate the day before the rashes appeared. It's odd, I suppose, that my sharpest memory should be how I felt the night before being sick. I clearly remember being too sleepy to eat supper. I went to bed early. I was irritated by the bed sheets and the clothes that I was wearing, as if I wanted nothing but silk to touch my skin.
I am grateful that I am in much better shape right now than I was five or six days ago when I was feeling so horrible that I was in tears. I must be on the healing track. Or am I merely getting accustomed to the itching? I know that habituation can make physical symptoms bearable.
Could I finally be healing?
It's midnight and I am calm. Lying in bed, I look up at the ceiling. I stare at the IV and every drop of dextrose, as if in a trance. I am intensely and sharply conscious of my being, of everything surrounding me. Yet, strangely enough, I am equally aware of feeling separated, unattached. I feel suspended, yearning for the next day to come. How many more seconds? How many more minutes? Hours? Until I'm finally sure my body is healing...
After weaving in and out of sleep, moaning, cursing the anti-histamine, twisting in my sheets, jabbing at my phone to distract myself--all at once I am calm. It’s midnight and everything is still. Something about the fullness of silence makes find the strength within myself to accept my illness. This is the sickest I've been for the longest time but soon I will recover and get out of the hospital.
The room is half-lit: only one of the two fluorescent lights are on, and the semi-darkness suits me. I touch the rashes on my skin and thankfully it's not so bad anymore. It's a miracle. Because every single day for the past week I have helplessly dreaded the onset of rashes late in the afternoon or early at night.
I dread the shots of Benadryl that burn my veins. The first time they injected me with the medicine I felt like I was going to pass out. It was as if there was not enough oxygen in the air and it was difficult to breathe. My body felt heavy and I thought I didn't have the strength to move. But by some force I was able to bring myself to the restroom to throw up. I told one of the doctors that Benadryl makes me vomit but he simply told me I may have associated it with nausea since I puked the first time I took the medicine. He did not seem worried but they never really do. I guess I'm sensitive to the drug. I would feel sedated a minute after taking it intravenously. Although my thoughts were clear, it would take some effort voicing responses when someone is talking to me.
When the effect of the Benadryl wears off, the itching starts all over again. At any rate, I need to discipline myself and ignore the itching because when an area of skin is scratched, that same area becomes even itchier, leading to more scratching. It's an annoying cycle.
The doctor where I work at said that I had Stevens–Johnson syndrome, which is a fatal allergic reaction to drugs and microorganisms. I literally did not believe him. But I followed his advice anyway and had myself admitted to the hospital.
There is no official epidemiology yet, but now more than ever I am certain that whatever allergy I have is not life-threatening. Still, it's almost disappointing how I could not help the doctors figure out the cause of my allergy. I could not accurately recall what I ate the day before the rashes appeared. It's odd, I suppose, that my sharpest memory should be how I felt the night before being sick. I clearly remember being too sleepy to eat supper. I went to bed early. I was irritated by the bed sheets and the clothes that I was wearing, as if I wanted nothing but silk to touch my skin.
I am grateful that I am in much better shape right now than I was five or six days ago when I was feeling so horrible that I was in tears. I must be on the healing track. Or am I merely getting accustomed to the itching? I know that habituation can make physical symptoms bearable.
Could I finally be healing?
It's midnight and I am calm. Lying in bed, I look up at the ceiling. I stare at the IV and every drop of dextrose, as if in a trance. I am intensely and sharply conscious of my being, of everything surrounding me. Yet, strangely enough, I am equally aware of feeling separated, unattached. I feel suspended, yearning for the next day to come. How many more seconds? How many more minutes? Hours? Until I'm finally sure my body is healing...
January 05, 2010
Fail Forward
How does one fail forward?
- Reject rejection
People who don't give up keep trying because they don't base their self worth on their performance. Instead, they have an internally based self image. Rather than say, "I'm a failure", they say "I missed that one".
- See failure as temporary
People who personalize failure see a problem as a hole they're permanently stuck in. But achievers see any predicament as temporary.
- See failures as isolated incidents
When achievers fail, they see it as a momentary event, not a lifelong epidemic. It's not personal. If you want to succeed, don't let any single incident color your view of yourself.
- Keep expectations realistic
If you want to take a stroll in your neighborhood, you can reasonably expect to have a few problems. But that's not the case if you intend to climb Mount Everest.
- Focus on Stengths
If a weakness is a matter of character, it needs much attention. Focus on it until you shore it up. Otherwise, the best bet for failing forward is developing your strengths.
- Vary approaches to achievement
Try and change until you find something that works for you.
- Bounce back
Sometimes the outcome is what you want. Figure out what you did right. Sometimes the outcome is what you don't want. Figure out what you did wrong so you don't do it again.
(Summarized from John Maxwell's Failing Forward)
- Reject rejection
People who don't give up keep trying because they don't base their self worth on their performance. Instead, they have an internally based self image. Rather than say, "I'm a failure", they say "I missed that one".
- See failure as temporary
People who personalize failure see a problem as a hole they're permanently stuck in. But achievers see any predicament as temporary.
- See failures as isolated incidents
When achievers fail, they see it as a momentary event, not a lifelong epidemic. It's not personal. If you want to succeed, don't let any single incident color your view of yourself.
- Keep expectations realistic
If you want to take a stroll in your neighborhood, you can reasonably expect to have a few problems. But that's not the case if you intend to climb Mount Everest.
- Focus on Stengths
If a weakness is a matter of character, it needs much attention. Focus on it until you shore it up. Otherwise, the best bet for failing forward is developing your strengths.
- Vary approaches to achievement
Try and change until you find something that works for you.
- Bounce back
Sometimes the outcome is what you want. Figure out what you did right. Sometimes the outcome is what you don't want. Figure out what you did wrong so you don't do it again.
(Summarized from John Maxwell's Failing Forward)
April 21, 2009
Reminiscing
I wanna watch "Law and Order" while eating onion rings or pasta... Take a side, debate over any issue for the heck of it... Wanna have one of those lazy afternoons again...
February 28, 2009
Getting High
Of course, the first time Chai invited me to try "skywalking", I knew nothing would stop me from saying yes -- not my planner's contents or the seemingly imperfect weather. Soon enough, we invited two other friends. So it was agreed upon, rendezvous at 7:00 PM.
Chai, Kia, Niña and I arrived at Crown Regency Hotel at around 9:00 PM and took a few detours (including the Sky Observatory where there were coin-operated telescopes), then proceeded to the 37th floor. Crown Regency's Sky Walk Extreme allows one to walk the outer rim of the hotel tower on a see-through flooring with no hand rails, 430 feet above the ground. There is nothing to be afraid of, though, because each person will be hooked on an overhead safety harness system, pretty much the same as the one used in movie stunts.
After signing a waiver we were asked to remove all accessories and place it in a locker. No, you're not allowed to bring your own camera so leave it there. We were then ushered to the dressing area where groovy orange jumpsuits were hanging on a rack. Thankfully there was one for someone as tall as I am. (Insider's Tip: Wear sneakers so you won't be forced to borrow their shoes. Or at least bring socks. Bring an extra shirt, too.)
There were only four of us so we had to be joined by another set of "skywalkers". The giving of instructions passed by in a blur... No pushing. No walking backwards. Blah blah blah... The wearing of an overhead harness... Another set of instructions... and then finally, FINALLY, we were lead out to the ledge and embarked on our sky walk adventure! It's a spine-tingling experience to walk into the edge of the glass floor. The feeling of being alive enveloped me suddenly as cold wind whipped my hair. In between having pictures taken by our paparazzi of the night (the official photographer and "rescue team" that follow us around), there was time to relax and enjoy the panoramic view of Cebu City. Being so high above the ground and seeing everything is liberating. I wonder how it would have turned out if we had it during the day. The depth would probably have been more obvious.
After 15-minute trip, we each got a certificate to remind us of the day we walked around the perimeter of Crown Regency Hotel 37 floors above the ground. And (more importantly) we got the CD copy of the pictures, which were an additional cost, but we don't really have much of a choice, do we?
Chai, Kia, Niña and I arrived at Crown Regency Hotel at around 9:00 PM and took a few detours (including the Sky Observatory where there were coin-operated telescopes), then proceeded to the 37th floor. Crown Regency's Sky Walk Extreme allows one to walk the outer rim of the hotel tower on a see-through flooring with no hand rails, 430 feet above the ground. There is nothing to be afraid of, though, because each person will be hooked on an overhead safety harness system, pretty much the same as the one used in movie stunts.
After signing a waiver we were asked to remove all accessories and place it in a locker. No, you're not allowed to bring your own camera so leave it there. We were then ushered to the dressing area where groovy orange jumpsuits were hanging on a rack. Thankfully there was one for someone as tall as I am. (Insider's Tip: Wear sneakers so you won't be forced to borrow their shoes. Or at least bring socks. Bring an extra shirt, too.)
There were only four of us so we had to be joined by another set of "skywalkers". The giving of instructions passed by in a blur... No pushing. No walking backwards. Blah blah blah... The wearing of an overhead harness... Another set of instructions... and then finally, FINALLY, we were lead out to the ledge and embarked on our sky walk adventure! It's a spine-tingling experience to walk into the edge of the glass floor. The feeling of being alive enveloped me suddenly as cold wind whipped my hair. In between having pictures taken by our paparazzi of the night (the official photographer and "rescue team" that follow us around), there was time to relax and enjoy the panoramic view of Cebu City. Being so high above the ground and seeing everything is liberating. I wonder how it would have turned out if we had it during the day. The depth would probably have been more obvious.
After 15-minute trip, we each got a certificate to remind us of the day we walked around the perimeter of Crown Regency Hotel 37 floors above the ground. And (more importantly) we got the CD copy of the pictures, which were an additional cost, but we don't really have much of a choice, do we?
February 10, 2009
Still Sick
So I’ve been jabbing at my phone, canceling appointments and plans for the afternoon. I’m still sick; the medicine just isn't working.
Last night my headache was so bad I could not think. If I needed to read or listen to my own thoughts, I knew that had to wait until I'm well again. Instead I was twisting in my sheets and fighting nausea.
I thought the fever had subsided when I woke up to drink some water around midnight but my temperature rose up again. So today I miserably succumb to the confinement of my room.
Last night my headache was so bad I could not think. If I needed to read or listen to my own thoughts, I knew that had to wait until I'm well again. Instead I was twisting in my sheets and fighting nausea.
I thought the fever had subsided when I woke up to drink some water around midnight but my temperature rose up again. So today I miserably succumb to the confinement of my room.
February 09, 2009
Malady
Jerrold and I got sick almost at the same time--after the Sunday shift, I think. Yesterday I was so sick I didn't even want to get up to eat. Missed lunch and dinner. And it wasn't just being sick that was uncomfortable. In a strange and surreal moment I looked at myself in the mirror and saw a part of me that I didn't recognize. Some mysterious malady of the body and soul is upon me. Maybe going out with friends tomorrow will do me some good.
Don't we all, at one point or another, feel a little odd, a little unusual, a little insane?
Don't we all, at one point or another, feel a little odd, a little unusual, a little insane?
February 06, 2009
I'm back!
Yup, I'm still here... back after a hiatus of blogging.
There's nothing much to say, really, except that I'm missing someone so much. But I'm not about to complain when I know it was my choice.
So here I am. The days have gone by sufficiently for me to find a new me. Have done a lot of things I've always wanted to do. I'm living MY life. So live YOURS!
There's nothing much to say, really, except that I'm missing someone so much. But I'm not about to complain when I know it was my choice.
So here I am. The days have gone by sufficiently for me to find a new me. Have done a lot of things I've always wanted to do. I'm living MY life. So live YOURS!
December 25, 2006
Christmas 2006
Some of Laagans' christmas messages...
From Ivy:
Fireworks always keep me in awe and wonder that I stop dead in my track whenever the bright lights explode in the velvet sky. Now I'm made to think how your friendship had that same effect on me. And I told myself I'm so lucky to experience such a magnificent firework display that runs all throughout the years, filling my days with warm kindness, bright smiles and enduring love. Thank you for bringing out the colors in my life. Merry Christmas! Keep shining.
From Atan:
To the best bunch of people I have known and will ever know, thank you. I know that for some things words just don't suffice, but I want to thank you in words because you make so many days of the year christmases.
From Tope:
If it weren't for my financial handicap this season of joy and the luxury that goes with it, I wouldn't be able to appreciate the more essential. Need I say more? Thank you for making me feel valued and I wish I did just the same.
From Ivy:
Fireworks always keep me in awe and wonder that I stop dead in my track whenever the bright lights explode in the velvet sky. Now I'm made to think how your friendship had that same effect on me. And I told myself I'm so lucky to experience such a magnificent firework display that runs all throughout the years, filling my days with warm kindness, bright smiles and enduring love. Thank you for bringing out the colors in my life. Merry Christmas! Keep shining.
From Atan:
To the best bunch of people I have known and will ever know, thank you. I know that for some things words just don't suffice, but I want to thank you in words because you make so many days of the year christmases.
From Tope:
If it weren't for my financial handicap this season of joy and the luxury that goes with it, I wouldn't be able to appreciate the more essential. Need I say more? Thank you for making me feel valued and I wish I did just the same.
November 05, 2005
memories of moalboal
t'was two nights before halloween when i and friends--ivy, keith, mon, atan, tope, deo and sanny--headed out three hours from the city to moalboal.
so off we went in a v-hire, with sanny singing at the top of his lungs about someone thinking of him beneath the pale moonlight. we arrived just in time for an interesting night-life at panagsama beach as there was some party going on in the neighborhood. after looking around (the beach area has a number of small bars, hotels and restaurants with a few sari-sari's mixed in) and having dinner (with mon doing a lot of video taking), we went to the discobar/restaurant just at the back of the place where we were renting. there were halloween-costumed people that night so we knew there was going to be a show. we found a corner and had some beer. after the show (some sort of pageant) the dance-floor was quickly jammed. soon we joined in and were dancing hard and turning and jumping and sweating and laughing.
after the disco we chose to go to the beach, never mind the low tide. well, i could have just given up and headed back to our room. but as soon as i was in the water, there was no regret because there's always that commune with nature that you feel when you're adrift in the sea at night and looking up at the sky.
soon it was time to sleep. i thought sleep would not come, what with sanny's singing again, but the next thing i knew, the window was already emitting sunlight into our room. we had a light breakfast--which was too light, because later, my stomach had started to grumble well before lunchtime. we had planned to wake up early in the morning but it was already midmorning by the time the whole group started out for the orchid farm. we went on a hike, minding the sun and distance (who's idea was it to walk all the way to the farm anyway?) just to view the orchids. but our efforts were rewarded because there were hundreds of orchids and--lo and behold--a swimming pool tucked amidst the orchid farm. i wanted to stay at the shallow part of the pool but after some encouragement and a lot of taunting, i had to swim where the water was fearfully deeper than i was tall.
later in the day, we trooped back to our room to checkout. we then finally headed to our last itinerary: basdaku beach. it was close to sunset as we chilled on the sand, waiting for the northern sun to drop further. and the perfect sunset did come. i felt breathless long after i had ran and scampered for my camera phone. i was overwhelmed and drowning in its magnificence, as if i was seeing the setting of the sun for the first time. i willed myself to record it, to remember. something about the feeling was reminiscent of equally exquisite moments, like catching myself wallowing in a particularly good painting, or looking up and seeing sunbeams filtered through swaying branches of an accacia tree at U.P., or a resonance after perusing a poem: elusive, unrepeatable.
night fell with a legion of stars. keith filled us with songs from his good old favorite themes. we sang with him, counted the falling stars, danced, drank beer, and played silly games.
awakened in the morning to grains of sand in the tent. 9 am and we are homeward-bound.
wasn't that a wonderful halloween treat.
so off we went in a v-hire, with sanny singing at the top of his lungs about someone thinking of him beneath the pale moonlight. we arrived just in time for an interesting night-life at panagsama beach as there was some party going on in the neighborhood. after looking around (the beach area has a number of small bars, hotels and restaurants with a few sari-sari's mixed in) and having dinner (with mon doing a lot of video taking), we went to the discobar/restaurant just at the back of the place where we were renting. there were halloween-costumed people that night so we knew there was going to be a show. we found a corner and had some beer. after the show (some sort of pageant) the dance-floor was quickly jammed. soon we joined in and were dancing hard and turning and jumping and sweating and laughing.
after the disco we chose to go to the beach, never mind the low tide. well, i could have just given up and headed back to our room. but as soon as i was in the water, there was no regret because there's always that commune with nature that you feel when you're adrift in the sea at night and looking up at the sky.
soon it was time to sleep. i thought sleep would not come, what with sanny's singing again, but the next thing i knew, the window was already emitting sunlight into our room. we had a light breakfast--which was too light, because later, my stomach had started to grumble well before lunchtime. we had planned to wake up early in the morning but it was already midmorning by the time the whole group started out for the orchid farm. we went on a hike, minding the sun and distance (who's idea was it to walk all the way to the farm anyway?) just to view the orchids. but our efforts were rewarded because there were hundreds of orchids and--lo and behold--a swimming pool tucked amidst the orchid farm. i wanted to stay at the shallow part of the pool but after some encouragement and a lot of taunting, i had to swim where the water was fearfully deeper than i was tall.
later in the day, we trooped back to our room to checkout. we then finally headed to our last itinerary: basdaku beach. it was close to sunset as we chilled on the sand, waiting for the northern sun to drop further. and the perfect sunset did come. i felt breathless long after i had ran and scampered for my camera phone. i was overwhelmed and drowning in its magnificence, as if i was seeing the setting of the sun for the first time. i willed myself to record it, to remember. something about the feeling was reminiscent of equally exquisite moments, like catching myself wallowing in a particularly good painting, or looking up and seeing sunbeams filtered through swaying branches of an accacia tree at U.P., or a resonance after perusing a poem: elusive, unrepeatable.
night fell with a legion of stars. keith filled us with songs from his good old favorite themes. we sang with him, counted the falling stars, danced, drank beer, and played silly games.
awakened in the morning to grains of sand in the tent. 9 am and we are homeward-bound.
wasn't that a wonderful halloween treat.
September 17, 2005
at dawn
for a little over a year now i have been waking up at dawn.
no, i don't have a sleeping problem; my shift starts at dawn, as it is for most of us who work at a call center.
so i wake to the shrill of the phone alarm and to the chill of a dark night, but i know that the night is done. dawn is quiet, save for the subtle frequency waves lapping at the ear drums: of bird songs from the bushes that seem to pound the hollow vastness of the sky and of church bells faintly calling from a distance. when you go to the streets, you'd think the roads knew no traffic jam.
upon arriving at the workplace the eye instantly adjusts to the bright flourescent lights that make anyone forget about the time and the darkness outside. it feels like being transported to a different time zone. it feels like a magic spell has just been cast--there's suddenly a lot of activity. (it makes me think of the prince and princesses in sleeping beauty's castle, all suddenly springing back to life, when she was finally kissed by her long-awaited prince.)
oh yes, i'm not alone. i'm in exalted company of people who, too, have promptly exchanged the warmth of their beds with the poignant coldness of the office booth and the rather monotonous job. mostly of those people who, for the immediate bigger pay, have sacrificed their dreams.
(sigh!) and so begins another struggler's day.
no, i don't have a sleeping problem; my shift starts at dawn, as it is for most of us who work at a call center.
so i wake to the shrill of the phone alarm and to the chill of a dark night, but i know that the night is done. dawn is quiet, save for the subtle frequency waves lapping at the ear drums: of bird songs from the bushes that seem to pound the hollow vastness of the sky and of church bells faintly calling from a distance. when you go to the streets, you'd think the roads knew no traffic jam.
upon arriving at the workplace the eye instantly adjusts to the bright flourescent lights that make anyone forget about the time and the darkness outside. it feels like being transported to a different time zone. it feels like a magic spell has just been cast--there's suddenly a lot of activity. (it makes me think of the prince and princesses in sleeping beauty's castle, all suddenly springing back to life, when she was finally kissed by her long-awaited prince.)
oh yes, i'm not alone. i'm in exalted company of people who, too, have promptly exchanged the warmth of their beds with the poignant coldness of the office booth and the rather monotonous job. mostly of those people who, for the immediate bigger pay, have sacrificed their dreams.
(sigh!) and so begins another struggler's day.
August 23, 2005
a death that never was?
book six was rather short. i'm talking about harry potter and the half blood prince, the sixth novel in j.k. rowling's harry potter series. it's a little frustrating, not because it felt too short, but because.. oh well, maybe you haven't read the book yet. so don't go on reading this post unless you have.
anyway, this is my blog and i can write anything i want... i was frustrated at how easily snape had killed dumbledore. i mean, dumbledore was supposed to be the greatest wizard, was he not? but he didn't really do anything to keep snape from killing him. he merely pleaded for him not to, and that didn't do any good.
do i sound too carried away? anyway, a friend has just offered some theories, like, it was really dumbledore's plan to sacrifice his own life, or something to that effect. how i envy j.k. rowling and all novelists in general. not that i actually want to become i writer. but isn't it wonderful to weave stories and turn it around just like that, probably on a whim?
the story really got me. but it's still inevitable to speculate that dumbledore must have left something similar to a horcrux, if he isn't still alive. looking back, the story was rather fishy. dumbledore had actually paralyzed harry (did he do it to prevent harry from messing up with some plan that he had?) when he could have used a hundred other spells. fawkes, the phoenix, had not come to the rescue even when dumbledore was so obviously in danger. and i'm sure snape's not evil, i'd bet with anyone.
forgive my caffeine-induced rambling. we're having downtime now so i'm blogging. and surfing. and talking. and eating a little.
now, on with my rambling. a constant theme throughout the harry potter books has been the idea that love is a power stronger than evil -- stronger, in fact, than magic. in one of the book's best scenes, dumbledore tells harry, "you are protected by your ability to love." so i'll be looking forward to how harry shall finally vanquish voldemort in the seventh and last book.
anyway, this is my blog and i can write anything i want... i was frustrated at how easily snape had killed dumbledore. i mean, dumbledore was supposed to be the greatest wizard, was he not? but he didn't really do anything to keep snape from killing him. he merely pleaded for him not to, and that didn't do any good.
do i sound too carried away? anyway, a friend has just offered some theories, like, it was really dumbledore's plan to sacrifice his own life, or something to that effect. how i envy j.k. rowling and all novelists in general. not that i actually want to become i writer. but isn't it wonderful to weave stories and turn it around just like that, probably on a whim?
the story really got me. but it's still inevitable to speculate that dumbledore must have left something similar to a horcrux, if he isn't still alive. looking back, the story was rather fishy. dumbledore had actually paralyzed harry (did he do it to prevent harry from messing up with some plan that he had?) when he could have used a hundred other spells. fawkes, the phoenix, had not come to the rescue even when dumbledore was so obviously in danger. and i'm sure snape's not evil, i'd bet with anyone.
forgive my caffeine-induced rambling. we're having downtime now so i'm blogging. and surfing. and talking. and eating a little.
now, on with my rambling. a constant theme throughout the harry potter books has been the idea that love is a power stronger than evil -- stronger, in fact, than magic. in one of the book's best scenes, dumbledore tells harry, "you are protected by your ability to love." so i'll be looking forward to how harry shall finally vanquish voldemort in the seventh and last book.
July 01, 2005
unsolveable
i was in that mystery between wakefulness and sleep where thoughts stretch and wind and weave... ah, how wonderful just to give in, albeit the feeling that something was amiss.
"she shouldn't have admitted it. she shouldn't have given in to her enemies!"
it was my brother's voice, jolting me awake. he was talking about no less than the president of the philippines, of course. he said it with so much conviction, as if doing so would alter the course of things... now i know why i felt something was wrong. i have fallen asleep while watching tv. i was watching a news program and i was supposed to be waiting for an important part, that part where president gloria macapagal-arroyo asks for forgiveness from the filipino people. for i've heard she had already admitted that is was in fact her voice that was in the audiotapes now commonly known as the "hello, garci" tapes. the wiretapped conversations were indeed between president arroyo and election commissioner virgilio garcillano.
pgma's face appeared on the tv screen. and there it was, her controversial apology to the filipino people for her "lapse in judgement". i didn't know whether to laugh or cry. her apology would have been laudable (its humbling, especially so for someone who's on the highest seat of power in the land) except that it was done as a last resort. in her last major statement she said she will not comment on the material that was illegally derived. how funny her assertiion was. its like saying, "its not my voice and besides, my rights were violated when they recorded our conversations". haha! and oh, what she did was not a lapse of judgement. it was outright cheating. she might as well have admitted this if she were to come out clean.
"she shouldn't have admitted it."
it was a more passionate statement from my brother to reiterate what he just said as if he wasn't heard the first time. but how can i explain to him that i have simply stopped caring? i used to care so much. i was one of those people who went out to the streets to oust former president estrada. i was pissed when the opening of the second envelope in the impeachment trial was blocked and when i joined the rally, it was heartfelt.
my sister (who at the side was busy with the computer) simply dismissed my brother's comment with, "you're just being fooled by the politicians and the media. you better not pay attention."
i couldn't agree more. everything is messed up. what's next? a military take over will only push the country backwards. people power is becoming a passe. an impeachment trial could take forever. who will we replace the president with? the current vice president is not up to the task. the political opposition also suffers from serious problems since its leaders are left overs of the marcos and estrada administration.
i haven't even solved my personal problems, let alone the country's.
i was then bent on getting some sleep, which i seem to have very little of these days, what with work and assignments and trying to get a life in between.
"she shouldn't have admitted it. she shouldn't have given in to her enemies!"
it was my brother's voice, jolting me awake. he was talking about no less than the president of the philippines, of course. he said it with so much conviction, as if doing so would alter the course of things... now i know why i felt something was wrong. i have fallen asleep while watching tv. i was watching a news program and i was supposed to be waiting for an important part, that part where president gloria macapagal-arroyo asks for forgiveness from the filipino people. for i've heard she had already admitted that is was in fact her voice that was in the audiotapes now commonly known as the "hello, garci" tapes. the wiretapped conversations were indeed between president arroyo and election commissioner virgilio garcillano.
pgma's face appeared on the tv screen. and there it was, her controversial apology to the filipino people for her "lapse in judgement". i didn't know whether to laugh or cry. her apology would have been laudable (its humbling, especially so for someone who's on the highest seat of power in the land) except that it was done as a last resort. in her last major statement she said she will not comment on the material that was illegally derived. how funny her assertiion was. its like saying, "its not my voice and besides, my rights were violated when they recorded our conversations". haha! and oh, what she did was not a lapse of judgement. it was outright cheating. she might as well have admitted this if she were to come out clean.
"she shouldn't have admitted it."
it was a more passionate statement from my brother to reiterate what he just said as if he wasn't heard the first time. but how can i explain to him that i have simply stopped caring? i used to care so much. i was one of those people who went out to the streets to oust former president estrada. i was pissed when the opening of the second envelope in the impeachment trial was blocked and when i joined the rally, it was heartfelt.
my sister (who at the side was busy with the computer) simply dismissed my brother's comment with, "you're just being fooled by the politicians and the media. you better not pay attention."
i couldn't agree more. everything is messed up. what's next? a military take over will only push the country backwards. people power is becoming a passe. an impeachment trial could take forever. who will we replace the president with? the current vice president is not up to the task. the political opposition also suffers from serious problems since its leaders are left overs of the marcos and estrada administration.
i haven't even solved my personal problems, let alone the country's.
i was then bent on getting some sleep, which i seem to have very little of these days, what with work and assignments and trying to get a life in between.
May 28, 2005
a stellar fact
stars are thousands of light-years away from us. it's possible that before the light reaches us, the star explodes, but we see it and will still continue to see it for next thousand (or respective) years.
light-year:
(noun) the distance that light travels in one year (9.46 trillion kilometers!)
light-year:
(noun) the distance that light travels in one year (9.46 trillion kilometers!)
May 25, 2005
dead stars
i and a friend of mine once talked about past loves. eventually, i had to ask him if he still had feelings with someone from the past. he told me he was seeing dead stars.
i thought i heard him wrong. i certainly didn't get it. then not long after that, he handed me a book (which was a collection of short stories by some of our favorite authors) and told me to read one particular story entitled "dead stars".
set in a conservative filipino community, the story was of an engaged man who, almost at the eve of his wedding, falls for someone else whom he had met only briefly. will he dare choose a stranger, a woman that could cause violent commotion in his heart, yet had no place in the completed ordering of his life? or should he follow the dictates of society and marry the woman practically everyone he knew expects him to marry? he ended up marrying the woman he was engaged with but not without having to suffer from the excruciating dilemma. many years later, he chanced to visit the stranger whom he had spent only a few brief moments with. he thought he had been longing for her all those years. but he realized that he only had been seeing dead stars.
interestingly, a line said, "he had been seeing the light of dead stars, long extinguished, but seemingly still in their appointed places in the heavens".
then i remembered that some of the stars we see at night have long been burnt-out. it takes a lot of years before a star's light rays reach us. sometimes we still see those light rays even when the star has long become a dead star. and that's how we look at our feelings sometimes.
sometimes, love dies. some of us will know when it's about to die. some of us don't. but most of us try to hold on. for how can you part with something that gives you so much joy? how can you part with something that makes you feel so human, so alive? no, you desperately cling to it.
sometimes you think you're still in love; however, when you try to rekindle those old feelings and try to spend time with that special someone, you might suddenly realize that you were simply hanging on with the feeling.
only with the feeling.
i thought i heard him wrong. i certainly didn't get it. then not long after that, he handed me a book (which was a collection of short stories by some of our favorite authors) and told me to read one particular story entitled "dead stars".
set in a conservative filipino community, the story was of an engaged man who, almost at the eve of his wedding, falls for someone else whom he had met only briefly. will he dare choose a stranger, a woman that could cause violent commotion in his heart, yet had no place in the completed ordering of his life? or should he follow the dictates of society and marry the woman practically everyone he knew expects him to marry? he ended up marrying the woman he was engaged with but not without having to suffer from the excruciating dilemma. many years later, he chanced to visit the stranger whom he had spent only a few brief moments with. he thought he had been longing for her all those years. but he realized that he only had been seeing dead stars.
interestingly, a line said, "he had been seeing the light of dead stars, long extinguished, but seemingly still in their appointed places in the heavens".
then i remembered that some of the stars we see at night have long been burnt-out. it takes a lot of years before a star's light rays reach us. sometimes we still see those light rays even when the star has long become a dead star. and that's how we look at our feelings sometimes.
sometimes, love dies. some of us will know when it's about to die. some of us don't. but most of us try to hold on. for how can you part with something that gives you so much joy? how can you part with something that makes you feel so human, so alive? no, you desperately cling to it.
sometimes you think you're still in love; however, when you try to rekindle those old feelings and try to spend time with that special someone, you might suddenly realize that you were simply hanging on with the feeling.
only with the feeling.
May 20, 2005
uncle's wedding
my uncle had his wedding two days ago and we went all the way to the south the night before the big day. it wasn't very easy going around with a big family and we were lucky to have caught up with the last bus trip that night. and so we went all through that familiar journey again with walls and walls of mountains at one side and the sea visible at the other.
i and my other two siblings was part of the bridal entourage and i was an instant lector, too. my family and relatives went swimming in the nearby cold spring before we all went home.
i and my other two siblings was part of the bridal entourage and i was an instant lector, too. my family and relatives went swimming in the nearby cold spring before we all went home.
May 17, 2005
camiguin
well, the last major thing so far was our trip to Camiguin. it was totally fantastic. the first day of the trip was spent in Iligan. Tinago Waterfalls is easily the most beautiful waterfalls i've ever seen. its the type of picturesque background perfect for fairytale movies. we also dropped by the Maria Christina Falls and nearby cold springs. our second day was spent unwinding and relaxing in Cagayan. Lim Ket Kai was great. we also visited parks, with colorful lights that were such a sight, sprawled all over the city. on our third day we woke up early and all scrambled to the terminal to catch the bus for Balingoan. from there, we got onboard the ferry for Camiguin Island. Camiguin at last! it is this closeness to earth that gives this feeling of heaven... our itineraries for the remaining three days included Ardent Hot Springs, Sto. Niño Cold Springs, the Cross Marker and Sunken Cemetery. i especially like White Island. and the pastel buns, hmmm, yum yum. i haven't seen all our pictures yet but i'll be posting them on my website as soon as i get hold of them.
March 04, 2005
on my own
this is a favorite of mine from les miserables.
On My Own
And now I'm all alone again
Nowhere to go no one to turn to
Did not want your money sir
I came out here coz i was told to
And now the night is near
Now I can make believe he's here
Sometimes I walk alone at night
When everybody else is sleeping
I think of him and then I'm happy
With the company I'm keeping
The city goes to bed
And I can live inside my head
On my own
Pretending he's beside me
All alone, I walk with him till morning
Without him I feel his arms around me
And when I lose my way I close my eyes
And he has found me
In the rain the pavement shines like silver
All the lights are misty in the river
In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight
And all I see is him and me for ever and forever
And I know it's only in my mind
That I'm talking to myself and not to him
And although I know that he is blind
Still I say, there's a way for us
I love him
But when the night is over
He is gone, the river's just a river
Without him the world around me changes
The trees are bare and everywhere
The streets are full of strangers
I love him
But every day I'm learning
All my life I've only been pretending
Without me his world will go on turning
A world that's full of happiness
That I have never known!
I love him
I love him
I love him
But only on my own
On My Own
And now I'm all alone again
Nowhere to go no one to turn to
Did not want your money sir
I came out here coz i was told to
And now the night is near
Now I can make believe he's here
Sometimes I walk alone at night
When everybody else is sleeping
I think of him and then I'm happy
With the company I'm keeping
The city goes to bed
And I can live inside my head
On my own
Pretending he's beside me
All alone, I walk with him till morning
Without him I feel his arms around me
And when I lose my way I close my eyes
And he has found me
In the rain the pavement shines like silver
All the lights are misty in the river
In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight
And all I see is him and me for ever and forever
And I know it's only in my mind
That I'm talking to myself and not to him
And although I know that he is blind
Still I say, there's a way for us
I love him
But when the night is over
He is gone, the river's just a river
Without him the world around me changes
The trees are bare and everywhere
The streets are full of strangers
I love him
But every day I'm learning
All my life I've only been pretending
Without me his world will go on turning
A world that's full of happiness
That I have never known!
I love him
I love him
I love him
But only on my own
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