break time

"We find greatest joy, not in getting, but in expressing what we are... Men do not really live for honors or for pay; their gladness is not the taking and holding, but in doing, the striving, the building, the living. It is a higher joy to teach than to be taught. It is good to get justice, but better to do it; fun to have things but more to make them. The happy man is he who lives the life of love, not for the honors it may bring, but for the life itself."
-- RJ Baughan

letting the gift go
-=-vkpm, 2005-=-

because i've held it in my hands for so long;
because it asks to be set free;
because it looks at me in the eyes,
silently accusing me of hurting and killing;
because i cannot bear to be reminded of that accusation
every time i see it sulk a little more
for every moment that passes;
because i have no wish for it to die;
because i am convinced that it deserves to take flight;
because it is also my desire to see it soar so high --
higher than i or anyone can ever go;
because to grant it its freedom is my choice to make;
because to loosen my grip means i'm going to trust;
because i am wrong and it is right --
i cannot protect it forever from the harsh realities of the world,
the universe will nonetheless conspire to protect it for me.
i just have to believe that it shall live... it will live
to make somebody else as happy as i will be.

high school (last of two parts)

"Time is a great teacher,
but unfortunately it kills all its pupils."
--Louis Hector Berlioz

i've been out of high school for almost six years now, and here i am still reminiscing about...

¤ her rusty and run-down buildings.

¤ manang sikad from whom we bought our candies, chips, and manggang hilaw until she and the likes of her were forbidden from entering the campus.

¤ heaven a.k.a. the elevated array of (in)convenience stores within our jungle complex. one needed to take a trip to heaven i.e. climb up some creaky make-shift stairs in order to purchase anything... from candies to paper to ballpen to pencil to chips to banana cue to camote cue to whatever. heaven was eventually closed because, according to rumors, illegal drugs were also sold there. hmmm... i think it was closed because the canteen just wanted to do away with competition. hehehe.

aside from them, i also remember these...


greek and roman sections
if in other high schools sections were named after virtues or scientists, ours were named after the greek letters and roman numerals. that means you wouldn't encounter sections matulungin, madasalin, mapagmahal, mapagkumbaba or einstein, maxwell, rutherford in our complex. instead, you'd hear about the sophomores of delta and epsilon, the juniors of kappa and lambda, and the seniors of rho and tau, as well as the sophomores, juniors, and seniors of I, II, and III.

once out of high school, those in the greek sections could claim to be part of delta kappa rho, epsilon lambda tau, delta lambda rho, epsilon kappa rho, delta kappa tau, epsilon kappa tau, delta lambda tau, or epsilon lambda rho. with those possible affiliations, you'd think that students belonged to fraternities or sororities, but nooooo... for the record, frats and sororities were (and still are) forbidden in our school.

by the way, you are currently reading the thoughts of a delta kappa rho who to this day hangs out with the likes of epsilon lambda tau and epsilon kappa rho.


math and science overdose
back then, we only had three major subjects: math, science, and others. with deeper emphasis on math and science...

our high school was were our delicate cerebral matters were first subjected to intensive mathematical and scientific torture... er... training under the watchful eyes of intellectual mentors who stopped at nothing in pushing us to and beyond our limits. it didn't matter that we were too young to be driven to really crack our heads with concepts which were more apt to be learned in college. we were molded to endure, to meet and exceed expectations with mind over matter approach. it was up to us to put our hearts somewhere safe because, most of the time, the training dealt with the mind devoid of its heart.

all for the names of science and math, we had...

¤ arithmetic, algebra, geometry and integrated science during the first year.

¤ algebra, geometry, earth science and biology for the second year.

¤ advanced algebra, statistics and trigonometry, chemistry and science research for the third year.

¤ selected topics in mathematics, calculus, physics and science electives (physiology, organic chemistry, and selected topics in physics) for the fourth year.

we had those as well as the other equally demanding subjects which we had to take every year for four years: filipino, english, values education, physical education, health, music, technology and home economics (business and distributive arts -- where i learned to read and write gregg shorthand, dressmaking, foods, drafting, woodwork, electricity, handicrafts), social studies and history.

needless to say, high school in our high school was a painful, time-consuming, and stressful yet rewarding process. we were far busier than some college students. a lot of people who observed us from outside our complex thought that the things we were made to go through were social life-disabling. well, from our point of view, they were not that disabling. really. contrary to beliefs, we were not mere thinking machines. us? thinking machines? thinking, yes. machines, no, we're definitely not... but we're capable of making people think of us that way. hehehe.

we had moments of seemingly-endless torture due to math and science overdose, but we also had moments of fun, fun, fun.


drama series
aside from being made to do number-crunching, scientific endeavors and logical reasoning, we were also molded to become thespians, total performers.

year after year, we were required to come up with our own group presentations, in which we were all expected to be at optimum performance level. no holding back.

cry. wail. do comedy. dance. sing. act. entertain. in other words, we were subjected to pakapalan ng mukha. daig pa namin ang mga sumali sa mga search-for-stars contests. there were no exceptions. we were made to forget limits. the goal was to impress our difficult-to-impress (read: obsessed-with-standards) teachers.

we had broadway presentations, puppet plays, noh plays, and whatever plays -- all of which demanded much of our time and showcased our talents, resilience, creativity, resourcefulness, and our intense determination to strike with awe the powers that be.

we mastered jose rizal's noli me tangere and el filibusterismo novels chapter by chapter through acting. not only did we learn the stories, our acting were also polished, and our abilities at adaptation were put to test every meeting day. pati baluktot na tagalog namin, nahasa rin.


outings and joyrides
from the outside, we might have looked like we didn't have lives outside our acads... but that's far from reality!

despite our hectic schedule and time-consuming, slow-death-inducing requirements, we somehow learned how to find time to "detoxify".

with "detoxify", i mean, going out, enjoying an acad-free day or hour or moment.

from our respective houses to the school in tibanga to internet cafes to the children's park to the lawns of redemptorist church to the likely and unlikely nooks of the city proper to the cool waters in the swimming pools of timoga to that playground in npc compound of ditucalan to dalipuga falls to the beaches in iligan... we enjoyed stress-free moments and made our marks (and did some crimes). hehehe.


disciplinary sanctions
there were times, too, that we got carried away and gave in to juvenile delinquency. in fact, we kept the members of the disciplinary committee working 24/7. we got them paranoid but we're quits because they made us paranoid, too. hehehe...

by the time we were about to leave high school, everyone in my batch had earned his/her share of disciplinary sanctions! but i guess, the disciplinary sanctions and the worst meted on us deserve to be shared in a separate blog entry. masaya kasi ang worst na tinutukoy ko. celebrated case!


next up: paskin episode (a.k.a. the celebrated case)...

high school (first of two parts)

"Live every day as if it were your last
and then some day you'll be right."
--H.H. "Breaker" Morant

seeing this picture of my youngest sister's high school barkada brought back a lot of memories.

it has been almost six years since the last time my high school batchmates and i wore our uniforms: pink skirts and white polo blouse for the girls and black slacks and white polo for the boys. yes, it has been almost six years since the days when our complete school get-up included black shoes and white socks and our batch's signature maroon IDs.


us...rho of batch 1999.
i just had to encircle that feet on the side and label it with "my feet". in one of the few class pictures taken during senior year, i got the misfortune of being cut out of the frame (i actually blogged about this before). hmmm... how bad can that be? out of 38 rho students, why did it have to be me?

ah, but more than just the uniforms, high school was memorable because of...


prof. momma rockstar:
dancing, basketball, bands, and more dancing
a.k.a "rollin', rollin', rollin' in the river..."
she's one of the weirdest teachers we had. she's the only one among the formidable league of professors in our high school who would do a live rock performance in front of the entire student body and the rest of the madlang people. her brand of rock performance? complete with headbang, wild-looking long hair, hoop earrings, rockstar make-up, get-up and attitude. cool, huh?

and oh! the things she made us do!!! pair dancing. aerobics. basketball. solo dancing. all these and more became essential parts of the physical education (P.E.) course work during our senior year, when she was one of those who lorded over our young lives.

we started dancing the swing and the chacha with all the gracefulness we could show, but she really really saw to it that we all learned to dance boogie (or else...). she drove us hard to do her bidding and since we were somewhat fearful creatures then -- trained to endure, go through anything and surpass expectations even if we didn't like what we were made to do -- we danced to her tunes, and did all the crazy and seemingly bone-breaking moves.

it was around that time when i was convinced that i could dance.

...and 'though not everybody's born to play basketball, she made all of us learn how to play the game as if all of us were destined to be the next michael jordan (asa pa!). we even had a tournament! the tournament gave all of us reasons to feel butterflies inside our stomachs. her rules were simple: come wearing the wrong color and without a player number, you're out of the tournament! commit a foul (deliberate or otherwise), expect minus ten points from your grade! do travelling, double dribbling, over-head dribbling, five-second violation or stepping out of the line and you say welcome to minus ten points per violation! worse, the only way you could earn your grade was to make a successful shot. no extra credits were given to steals and assists. ah, but playing basketball and the tournament itself was fun! it was a test of endurance and brought each of the competing classes closer together.

nothing could beat the last thing she asked us to do though: perform as if you were born to entertain! for this requirement, only a few were allowed to put up their bands and most of us were delegated to perform solo in front of her and the rest. final-P.E-performance day was a day of reckoning... and also turned out to be macho dancing and sexy dancing day. i don't know what got into her head, but her grading style was such that the bolder you go, the better your mark. those who played safe and stayed away from sexy dancing (like me and like most of those from my class) got not-okay grades but those who came close to "giving their all" were able to fulfill that final requirement of her course with flying colors.

i heard that this "perform solo in front of me and the rest" tradition of hers was stopped the following year because (finally!) somebody had the guts to squeal and a parent formally filed a complaint.

in fairness to her, the basketball tournament, although very tiring, was really fun!!!

i played point guard, did a lot of steals and assists, but never made a successful shot (i don't remember ever attempting to shoot the ball into the basket, anyway). hehehe. fortunately, i never committed a foul nor did a violation.

even after all these years, the other point guard on our team, jan a.k.a. girl number 23, deserves to be congratulated. she may be the shortest girl in our class, but she's definitely our best player. most valuable at that! you should see her move with the ball. jan, bow jud mi sa imong basketball prowess! naks, special mention...


sadsad
a.k.a. disco. school dance.

back in high school, we never ran out of reasons to hold dance parties: victory ball (even if there's really no victory to celebrate), acquaintance party, student's night, fund raising, halloween, valentine's, name it. i swear, although i was nerdy, i never missed a school dance during high school. but then... now, i could only laugh at the music we used to dance to and sing along to back then... backstreet boys, spice girls, 911, code red, boyzone, hanson, the moffats, solid harmonie(?)... syet. olats. nakakahiyang i-reminisce. ayoko na. wait, i remember happily square dancing to the beats of my sharona and new age girl, and forming human snakes that go all over the dance floor, too! hahaha. hahaha. hahaha. tama na. this is getting humiliating. bwahahaha...

but if there's one thing that's common to all the sadsad during high school, it has something to do with all those moments when the music would suddenly stop just when everyone's sweating in the dance floor doing all those moves, and an announcement would go like this: "paging ms. tina babak, your mother is waiting for you outside" or this: "paging mr. diego hindiluna, your parents are looking for you." ahh, announcements like those would immediately be followed with jeering. if you happened to be ms. tina babak or mr. diego hindiluna, you'd want to be not seen in the campus ever again.


duranta mattah
there eventually came a time in our high school life when every wrong move meant donating, planting, or transferring a duranta.

back then, it seemed that nothing else could ever come out of the mouth of one of our guidance counselors except the word "duranta!". she must have been dreaming of the durantas day and night that she resorted to displace her affinity for durantas on the unfortunate students who are caught committing even the very minor misdemeanors. in record time, the equivalence of janitorial work to the word duranta was established.

... and duranta mathematics was born.
standby in the covered walk = duranta!
be suspected of being late = duranta!
be late = duranta!
cut classes for no good reason = duranta!
cut classes to watch NBA, to play starcraft = duranta!
be seen, be merely suspected of doing a misdemeanor = duranta!
one eeny weeny bit of wrong move = duranta!
tsk. tsk. duranta here. duranta there. duranta everywhere.

the mere mention of the word duranta eventually sounded like torture to our ears, and the sight of durantas all over our small high school complex became torture to our eyes. we had too much of the durantas that keeping a straight eye at the sight of their yellow green or golden bushes became an ordeal beyond tolerance; we developed "allergic" reactions. why and how mrs. obsessed-with-beautification drive managed to turn a simple ornamental plant into an object of torture, is a puzzle left uncracked. her powers were beyond us, and she was of a different kind: seeing the durantas flooding the complex was probably her drug.

... but did the duranta punishment deter people from misbehaving? nooooooooooo... asa pa! at best, it led the students to test the limits even more by working on creativity and improving the strategies of escaping punishment. harharhar.

fast forward to almost six years later, the sight of durantas would only drive us to laugh. and somehow, seeing them now induces nostalgia. aye, gone were those duranta days.


us...now (read: almost six years after).
hahaha. fortunately for me, the one who took this picture was kind enough not to cut me out of the frame.
walang panama ang starstruck and star circle sa amin!!!

to be continued...

stalk talk

"In God we trust, all others we virus scan."
--Author Unknown

i don't know what's with some people.

just recently, i chanced upon the friendster profile of one of those connected to me and found out something which made my blood run cold: three of the five photos he posted were pictures of me! more than that, i don't have softcopies of those pics... but he has. he has! putik. whatever gave him the right to post those pics (my solo pics!) in his account? paksyet. paksyet talaga. they are not his and he definitely has no right... no right at all to make people think that we are close or that i am his or that we are an item. i don't even know him personally! we are far from being good friends, and i don't remember ever talking to him.

you might think that i'm just being so paranoid and all. maybe. i'd rather you tell me that after you've gone through everything that's written here...

-¤-
shortly after i got out of college, i got a call from someone whose number is not registered in my phonebook. i answered the call but no one was talking on the other end, so i cut the call. then came the ringing again. same number. i answered. still, the other end was silent, so i went silent myself and waited for the caller to cut the call. just as i wanted, it ended. then came the ringing again. same number. argh! i received the call but did not say anything. instead i waited for a voice on the other end. moments passed. i heard nothing. then, the call was cut.

i did not know who called, but i have the number. so what did i do? i asked my friend tiff to befriend the owner of the number. tiff pestered whoever was receiving her messages no end until she got the information we wanted. according to whoever received tiff's messages, he was innocent. it was his boardmate who was to blame -- his boardmate who bought a copy of my graduation picture to paste on his bed board. juice mio, how creepy!!! kaya pala di ko mahanap-hanap ang picture ko! had i been a showbiz personality, i could understand the business with my pic... but i'm not. i'm not! plus there's the fact that he got my number!!! how else could that call be made?

creepy to the max!

later on, "the boardmate" used another number to contact me and tried to get friendly with me via sms. i made my replies carefully, my words giving the impression that, had we been talking instead of "texting", i was speaking in clipped tones. all the while, i was asking him to give me my picture because it's not his to keep but mine. days later, he gave me instructions to get a mail from the school's post office, saying it was something he left there for me. paranoid being that i am, i didn't want to get the letter myself. i did not even want to open it. i jokingly told my classmates that it could be a letter bomb and i didn't wish to die so early. still, in their presence, i ended up opening the envelope and there inside was the pic and a letter written in what looked like a parchment paper (in fairness). the letter contained apologies, friendly buzzes, and congratulatory lettering. the content was okay. the content seemed okay... until i reached the back page. waaaaaaaamaaaaaa!! my hands went cold.

"pagkabam...sorry gud!... sorry na gud!"
he used expressions which were then exclusively used by me and my close friends! anyone reading that part would think we're so close. we're not! not in any way!

that's not all there is to it.

at one point, "the boardmate" flooded my phone's inbox when he sent me text messages asking why i didn't inform him that i left iligan and demanding to know why i left. hello??? who is he to be informed?! we're not close. besides, as far as i know, i didn't (and i still don't) owe anyone an explanation.

apart from that, and apart from sending me e-mails, the creep put up a webpage in geocities with two of my pics (which i don't have softcopies of!) on it and lines of my second favorite poem crawling from bottom to top, just like those movie credits. what was weird was that my pics would appear one after the other and then would fade to give way to photos of hermione granger. the background? flash-animated. twinkling stars. paksyet. i want to have that page deleted.

the person probably has a copy of my bio-data. he knows too much, he memorized even my parents' names. waaaaaaaaa. he's a little bit gutsy, too. he called up the house, looked for me and when told that i wasn't in iligan, he attempted to befriend my youngest sister. putik! it's a good thing people in the house aren't too trusting (just like me), so he didn't get much information. it was a blessing in disguise, too, that my subscriber identity module (SIM) was rendered useless when it went loco. in effect, he lost his sms contact with me when i switched to another SIM.

never had i felt too bugged in my whole life! how then can i ever begin to trust people a little bit more?

-¤-
i thought there was only one person like "the boardmate". i found out quite some time ago that i was wrong.

in the forums board which i used to frequent, somebody had the gall to post my pic without my permission as part of his thread entries, and gave this explanation:

"Look, I'm not trying to piss you off or anything. The picture is good and I want these people here to see it. I'm also not joking about the things I wrote about you."
so?

hello?? i'm not public property. i deserve my privacy, and i certainly don't need publicity.

"I was just wondering, why didn't you like it when I posted your picture..? ..maybe you felt uncomfortable thinking of the fact that other people are keeping your pictures.. You shouldn't..
You should think of it as a compliment..
I have your pictures because I look up to you"
an attempt at flattery, eh? it won't get him anywhere.

i don't fall into the habit of fishing for compliments from people i don't know, and flattery turns me off big time. in fact, i don't end up being flattered; i end up disturbed. people who can't trust me with their identities shouldn't expect me to believe their statements. if i need an esteem boost, i'd rather be affirmed by my closest buddies for they are the ones i trust. besides, when other people who are not close to you keep your pictures without your knowledge (most especially pictures you yourself don't have softcopies of), kabahan ka!!! stalking is stalking, and it's supposed to be illegal.

"We're gonna have an alumni homecoming.. I think it's gonna be between christmas day and new year's day.. I hope you can come so that I can see you and maybe I'm gonna have the courage to approach you and introduce myself.. It will break my heart if you don't come."
i count on my own maybe's but not on other people's, and emotional blackmail seldom works on me. i believe one should never be held guilty of breaking somebody's heart. if somebody's heart gets broken, it's that somebody's fault, not any other person's.

i went to that alumni homecoming because my high school friends and batchmates were there. i made sure no one i never knew from before could ever approach me by choosing to stay near my big and burly former classmates in high school, hahaha! safe.

"about the pictures.. I got them from someone I know.. he says "idol jud nako si (my name here) bai".. see?.. it's not only me.. I was just the only one who is very vocal about you.. daghan mi.."
oh mai. creepy to the infinity.

-¤-
what these people don't know is that i already had their names and identities checked. they think they've been careful enough not to leave too many traces, but i'm gifted with some "detective skills" and i know how to put them into good use.

call me a stalker stalker. if you stalk me, let me know and get ready to be stalked back. i play fair, you know.

contrary to what some people would like to believe, one cannot find everything wants to find using google alone. it also pays to know the right people in the right places.

what the...? for all i know, they could be reading this blog. hala gudlak.

hello world!

"When dealing with people, remember you are not dealing with creatures of logic, but creatures of emotion."
--Dale Carnegie

i am not okay. i don't feel okay, and there's nothing you can do about it. something's wrong with me and something's wrong with the world. a lot of things are. no. don't play smart, don't tell me everything's gonna be okay. i don't need that. i really don't. i know that tomorrow i'm bound to change my mind. maybe not. right now, i don't care. i'm down. i'm tired. i'm good as dead. maybe my soul has left me. i'm a dead person walking. in times like this, i just wanna be home. there, i wouldn't have to pretend i'm okay even when i'm not. then, i could just curl in bed and go to sleep without tears flowing out. there, i don't have to stifle my sobs, because i won't be crying anyway. if only i could plaster a smile on my face or fill my surroundings with my own laughter without betraying what i truly feel. life's not like that. not now. i feel bad. sad. whatever. my eyes hurt, my mind's nowhere, my heart's heavy and i haven't even started crying yet. i've already forgotten how it is to cry when somebody else sees or hears you crying, and i have no wish to remember... but my eyes hurt. depression just kicked in again. i don't even quite understand. not the start. certainly not the end. no. i'm not gonna drag my family nor my friends into this, not even best friend. that means, even if anyone will ask, i wouldn't be sharing anything except what you already know.

this is between me and the world. i will venture into the battlezone alone. i'll be back soon.

those lines...

...from the two movies i watched yesterday.

-¤-
"I love you. And not in a friendly way, although I think we're great friends. And not in a misplaced affection, puppy-dog way, although I'm sure that's what you'll call it. And it's not because you're unattainable. I love you. Very simple, very truly. You're the epitome of every attribute and quality I've ever looked for in another person. I know you think of me as just a friend, and crossing that line is the furthest thing from an option you'd ever consider. But I had to say it. I can't take this anymore. I can't stand next to you without wanting to hold you. I can't look into your eyes without feeling that longing you only read about in trashy romance novels. I can't talk to you without wanting to express my love for everything you are. I know this will probably queer our friendship - no pun intended - but I had to say it, because I've never felt this before, and I like who I am because of it. And if bringing it to light means we can't hang out anymore, then that hurts me. But I couldn't allow another day to go by without getting it out there, regardless of the outcome, which by the look on your face is to be the inevitable shoot-down. And I'll accept that. But I know some part of you is hesitating for a moment, and if there is a moment of hesitation, that means you feel something too. All I ask is that you not dismiss that - at least for ten seconds - and try to dwell in it." -- from the movie, Chasing Amy
-¤-
"If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me."
-- from the movie, The Phantom of the Opera
-¤-
happy valentine's day, everyone!

conversations

"How many times can a man turn his head,
pretending he just doesn't see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
the answer is blowin' in the wind."
-- Bob Dylan's Blowin' in the Wind

last night...

labmate 1: i have a question.
me: o, ano? what's bugging you?
labmate 1:(serious) if i have my teeth cleaned by the dentist tomorrow, can i still eat afterwards?
me: (amused) of course! bakit naman hindi ka na pwedeng kumain?
labmate 2: (chuckling and clearly amused) noooooooooooo... you would have to wait for one week before you can eat again.
labmate 1:(still serious) ha? hindi nga?
me: (really amused and chuckling) well, in that case, make it two weeks. just to be safe.

blame the toxic materials in the lab.

oh, if only having your teeth cleaned by the dentist means you have to forego eating for quite a long time, then diet programs like south beach won't be popular and all those who practice internal medicine would clamor to establish partnerships with the dentists.

-¤-
back in '96...

crush in high school: (smiling while standing) hello, good morning.
me: (walking) ' morning. (at the back of my mind: what's up? why is he talking to me?)
crush in high school: wait. i wanna ask you something.
me: (stopping) shoot.
crush in high school: do you recall the growth rate of the giant kelps found in the californian coast? i need the information.

cool. the hotshot of the science club's asking a mere sophie about kelps. hehe.

me: you mean...(at the back of my mind: kelps??? quick, what are kelps?... ah, kelps!!!) ...those kelps mentioned in the film yesterday?

crush in high school, who's two years ahead of me, replied with a nod and a smile. (haha, he smiled at me.)

me: one foot... feet, no, not feet... one foot per day.
crush in high school: one foot per day?
me: yep. giant kelps. california. one foot per day.
crush in high school:(smiling) thanks.
me: (starting to walk) you're welcome.

yeah... one foot per day. i did not pull that answer from out of the blue to impress crush in high school. giant kelps in the coast of california have an average growth rate of one foot per day. at least that's what i learned from the film.

considering that crush in high school and i never had a significant conversation other than that, maybe i should have said thanks to the californian giant kelps? bwahahaha! how nerdy can people get?

all i can say now is this: regardless of who's asking, a nerdy question deserves a nerdy answer. bow.

-¤-
months ago...

somebody a.k.a. one of those friendly people i refuse to trust: i'm inviting you to a corruption study this saturday at up...blah blah blah (details of the activity)...
me: oh, i have plans of corrupting myself this saturday and sunday, like i always do. that means i can't go. sorry. thanks for inviting me, anyway.
somebody: hahaha! i sense something naughty in that reply.
me: good, it's intentional.

ah, i have my ways of turning people down.

-¤-
many months ago... past 11 o'clock p.m. at philcoa

neat-looking may itsura stranger: are you from the university? you know, the friend you're with...
me: (startled and on alert level #1) huh? what about her?
neat-looking may itsura stranger: she looks familiar.

the friend being referred to? cinema buddy ...but cinema buddy was nowhere near. she was already walking away to go home to a boarding house. i was on my own.

me: (still on alert level #1) huh? oh, really?
neat-looking may itsura stranger: she looks familiar, but i can't quite place her. anyway, you're going back to the campus now?
me: (on alert level #2) oh, really? ...y ...yup, i am.
neat-looking may itsura stranger: by the way, what's your name? your friend really looks familiar.

your friend looks familiar. that's a pick-up line. his pick-up line.

me: (on alert level #3) why do you wanna know? no, i mean, why should i give you my name? i don't even know you.

neat-looking stranger gave me his "name". i wasn't interested so i don't remember what he said his "name" was. BUT for reasons i don't know, i ended up giving him my first name. heck, i even answered his questions regarding my program of study (but i think he believed i was just bluffing, hahaha!) and where i'm staying inside the campus.

i know. i know. for someone on alert level #3.5, what i did was stupid. you don't have to tell me.

neat-looking may itsura stranger: are you sure you already wanna go home? maybe we can talk some more. (indicating the nearby mcdo) maybe eat, too.
me: (with my mind automatically jumping to alert level #10) no. thanks. i really have to go home now. it's late. besides, i'm not hungry.
neat-looking may itsura stranger: are you sure you don't want to eat? my treat.
me: (on red alert) no thanks. (at the back of my mind: putik naman o! mauubos na english ko. ayokong makipagkwentuhan sa 'yo at hindi ako sanay sa libre, may sariling pera ako. bakit ang kulit mo?! sapakin na lang kaya kita? ...pero sa laki mo, hindi kita kaya, sure na. konting pagtitimpi pa.) i said i wanna go home. i just wanna go home.
neat-looking may itsura stranger: well, if you're sure about that, maybe... we'll just see each other around? some other time then?
me: i assure you, i'm sure about wanting to go home. i'm going.

some other time??? may God forbid. tsk. close call. that brought me back to... rule #1: never talk to strangers.

view from the inside

"Our thoughts take the wildest flight; even at the moment when they should arrange themselves in thoughtful order."
-- Lord Byron

the only thing on my wallgreen leaves i drew with oil pastels on a deliberately crumpled
36" x 20" sheet of lemon yellow crepe paper. from a distance, it looks like a printed cloth which badly needs ironing, hahaha!



the only thing on my roommate's wallthis wall used to be filled with posters of smiling people. now, the same wall is adorned by this: my simple housewarming gift to ann, the new roommate.

i bungled on this one though, something went wrong with my strokes and some areas of the paper got torn. observe carefully, maybe you'll see what i mean.

why green leaves on yellow?

blame the caterpillars and blame hope for the flowers! both ann and i love the book. would you believe she also has a copy of that book? ...and we both adore lemon yellow.



3 feet below ann's green leaves...is her bed. leaning on her pillow and relaxing on her bed is cutie feet, her stuffed toy and our official mascot.



3 feet below my own green leaves...is my bed. on it is my fir wood bed tray. this bed is the reason why i'm too lazy to get up.

thanks a lot to cinema buddy for helping me look for the bed sheet. now, i get to sleep on the heavenly bodies, hahaha. i'd like to think i got them all! the moon... the sun... stars... comets... planets...

and on this same bed is where i get to dream the most...



...of this...


...and this.
where else? but the place to be... batanes, philippines.
-¤-
funny. for over a year, people who passed by our door believed this to be true:


the truth: neither weng (my former roommate) nor i ever went to boracay. also, neither of us think of boracay as the ultimate dream destination.

that sign on the door was a result of my laziness to decorate our room for our dorm's open house last year. our wing was assigned to gear up for summer, and we were told to think of our own summer themes for our respective rooms. after vetoing summer blooms and sizzling beach bodies, i settled for summer vacation. that way, i had every excuse to close our door and be somewhere else during open house. (you don't expect residents to be around when they're on vacation, right?) hahaha! clever.

go fast, go slow

i'd like to believe i was born with the thing for speed.

although i don't like it when my bro or my pop drive beyond 60 kph, i dream of being able to drive very, very fast (hahaha! i know i'm being unfair). i often experience adrenaline rush, be it because i'm watching a race, or simply because i'm just thinking of things going on in a flash...

on walking...
compared to most people, my average walking speed is fast and would probably enable me to outpace the slowest runner. it's not just because i currently live in a place where everything seems to be moving so fast. i've always had that walking speed. of course, when people i walk with don't get to enjoy my pace, i end up walking slow... but whether i walk fast or slow, i enjoy walking especially when i get to see natural greens.

on eating and drinking...
i eat fast, too. unlike my cinema buddy who prefers to eat as if she has aaaaaaaalll the time in the world, i prefer making my food disappear right away. same goes for my drinks, be they water, juice, milk, or alcohol. i like to empty the glass (or the bottle) in a single tipping. i only go slow when something disturbs me.

on talking...
i know i could never beat my friend miez when it comes to talking speed, but my pop says i'm one of those people with mouths that have the tendency to go like a loaded machine gun, hahaha! truth be told, i don't do it consciously. most times, i don't get to notice how fast i'm talking until someone tells me to slow down lest i drain all my energy talking.

on typing...
i don't know whether it's a product of too many chat sessions or too many reports, but i know my average typing speed is fast; sometimes, i fear i might end up splitting the keyboard into two. i only go slow when i want to really digest what i'm typing or when something in my brain alerts me of a probable grammatical or logical lapse.

on writing and reading...
i experience moments when i suddenly feel the urge to wield the pen with my left hand and write as if tomorrow never comes. those same moments are when i make my hand race after the seemingly gazillion thoughts a-zooming in my head, and thus the need to write fast lest my thoughts go poof! i don't like it when i write really, really fast though because my usually nice handwriting gets to suffer. i prefer to see my words written neatly and nicely.

as for reading... when left to my own, i could read 3-5 books (from cover to cover) in a single day. i used to really read a lot that i learned to develop my own version of speedreading. these days, i don't get to read books that much (life is cruel! life is cruel!), but when i do read, i have the tendency to read as fast as i could.

there are things that i enjoy doing slow though, and they are:

getting out of bed...
my body clock normally allows me to wake up at 6am, but i don't get out of bed right away. instead, i stay under the sheets for two hours or more, either sleeping some more or simply trying to sleep some more. gone were the days when i would get up right away, almost bouncing off the bed, forcing my body to move. now, when i get up, i do it as lazily as i could, treating the act of leaving the bed as art.

taking a bath...
i used to be able to get myself ready in 15 minutes flat. but now? nah. i revel in taking a bath slowwwwwwwly. there is no way i can be done in 15 minutes.

combing my hair...
i love combing my hair now as much as i like running my hand through it, and i try to do so as slowly as i could because i want to avoid breakage. there's something wrong with my hair's strength. :(

artwork...
when it comes to drawing or painting, i prefer taking my time. doing art is something i really love to do in my own time, without deadlines, without ultimatums. when it comes to artwork, i don't want to be rushed by myself or by anyone.

going through arrays of books at book shops...
a friend once said that i should not be allowed to enter a book shop if time is of essence. going through books really takes up my time, especially since i prefer doing it slow. i could spend hours looking at covers of books, reading gists, scanning pages (if allowed), appreciating titles, thinking of buying... and usually, i end up not buying. i just purposefully spend time with the books, as if they're breathing. hehehe.

-¤-
speed got me when i was just a kid. i wasn't 5 years old then when i got dragged by a fast-moving motorcycle. why? because i thought i could run as fast as the motorcycle!

the story...
a motorcycle was up for sale and my uncle was set to run it for a test drive. my young mind saw that as an opportunity for adventure. the people surrounding me were too busy looking at the motorcycle that they didn't notice that i managed to make my way through them to hold the metal part of the motorcycle's backseat with my hands. they only realized i was there when the motorcycle was already accelerating to top speed, and they saw poor little me almost flying from being dragged. needless to say, it was already too late when i realized my folly, that my little legs couldn't keep up. when i let go of my hold, i ended up hitting the ground so hard, and too shocked to cry at first. i know i gave my parents (and all the people who were there) the shock, too. i remember being immediately brought to the hospital for fear that i broke a bone or badly knocked my head. fortunately, and even though there were tiny pieces of broken glass on the area where i landed, i only got very nasty-looking abrasions on my two knees and some on my hands. for years after that, i sported scars on my knees -- scars that resemble the map of the north and south american continents. to this day, you can still see them on my knees, but you have to look very closely because they've already become very, very faint.

true or false?

"He who knows much about others may be learned, but he who understands himself is more intelligent. He who controls others may be powerful, but he who has mastered himself is mightier still."

as a result of answering a forwarded-via-email character test, i got this:


hmmm...

some peeps at p6peeps

"The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, nor the kindly smile, nor the joy of companionship; it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when you discover that someone else believes in you and is willing to trust you with a friendship." -- Ralph Waldo Emerson

p6peeps.
circle of 13.
my college barkada.

taoist temple, cebu city
october 2002
from left to right, beginning at the back row, the p6peeps are: micmic, randy, edson, ivan, miezel, anwar, kulit, ducay, naomi, jerk, tiffany, benito and benjie.

-¤-

csm, msu-iit, iligan city
october 2001


with p6family, magoong beach resort
february 2002


port area, ozamis city
october 2002


white sand beach, baliangao in zamboanga
(before a side trip to calamba, misamis occidental)
october 2002


csm, msu-iit, iligan city
december 2002


at sea, between lanao del norte and ozamis city
april 2003


oroquieta city
(before a side trip to tangub city)
april 2003


rupagan, bacolod, lanao del norte
april 2003


studio picture, 5 out of 13 reunion
december 2003


butuan city
2004


cagayan de oro city
october 2004


jerk's apartment in iligan, 5 out of 13 reunion version 2
january 2005

p6peeps.
travel-happy.

picture-crazy.