tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54770814385596300112024-03-14T03:26:47.571+11:00wandering commuterthere are wonders, if you wander.wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.comBlogger570125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-62676157791494701412021-01-19T17:18:00.001+11:002021-01-19T17:18:11.437+11:00The Urge <p>Suddenly, there is that urge to write again. </p><p>So many things have happened over the past three years since the last time I posted here. Sadly, all of it I have not documented. </p><p>Sure, there are photos, videos and some lengthy posts in my social media platforms, once in a while. </p><p>But somehow, it still failed to capture the entire picture of why I recorded that experience and why I wanted to share that story. </p><p>The emergence of various social media such as Twitter, Instagram etc. made everything faster and more convenient. But I also think, it also made our personal expressions incomplete, directionless and shallow. </p><p>*** </p><p>Few weeks ago, I unexpectedly chance upon this blog - my blog. </p><p>As I read each entry, I found myself smiling as I was reminded of who I was before and who I am now. </p><p>To be honest, I stopped blogging (and sketching) because I told myself am in a better place now. </p><p>Perhaps because I have always found doing both to be too emotional. And for me, unchecked emotions can easily lead me back to dark places. </p><p>But now, I have realized that as emotions can make one vulnerable, it can also make you stronger once you fully embrace it. </p><p>Thus, here I am attempting to wander for wonders again but with a different lens now. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-189871450320525852017-09-04T21:58:00.002+10:002017-09-04T22:14:49.040+10:00silent conversations: how i confronted my best friend after confessing being HIV positiveI guess meeting Y the following day was inevitable. <br />
<br />
but i pondered hard how i will manage after learning the status. <br />
<br />
what will i do? where do i start? and what will i even ask?<br />
<br />
Y and i have probably seen each other in extremely rare occasions after graduation, more than a decade ago (damn, time flies). mostly, during blockmates' weddings, reunions and a spontaneous trip in tagaytay for lunch. but thanks to social media and perhaps our bond, its always as if it was just last week. so we never had any awkward moments when we are together.<br />
<br />
"Y!," i exclaimed but Y did not respond. i knew Y heard me. but somehow Y refused or perhaps did not have the strength to look back.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
in a way, I immediately understood Y's dilemma on where to even start. from there, i knew that the pressure of starting the conversation was already on me.<br />
<br />
as I approached Y, my head was telling me: lift the conversation up. enter with high energy. strike a joke. make it casual. as much as possible, let Y feel its just another day.<br />
<br />
"musta ang malandi?" (how's the flirt?)<br />
<br />
WTF.<br />
<br />
I swore I saw the sudden change in Y's expression. by that time I am not sure whether or not I offended Y. yes, sometimes I say the most stupid things. but eventually both of us just laughed at it like the old times.<br />
<br />
"grabe siya (you are harsh)." Y answered back.<br />
<br />
"tara, dinner tayo! (come on, lets have dinner)" I said which Y obliged.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLK6dwqer28sPj1yyaIglKE7z0L1uMvnn8rQ4t23PtCDc0zMgOo1Z-WIhSKLcj1cqh-FVd-twIRTr8BdojSaJTMtEzLLlElqWcShSnbxjI9pZqCMFF0mwVKve9cndMgW4aHpHWUdNkL-Hf/s1600/thGIZWFDG7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="199" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLK6dwqer28sPj1yyaIglKE7z0L1uMvnn8rQ4t23PtCDc0zMgOo1Z-WIhSKLcj1cqh-FVd-twIRTr8BdojSaJTMtEzLLlElqWcShSnbxjI9pZqCMFF0mwVKve9cndMgW4aHpHWUdNkL-Hf/s400/thGIZWFDG7.jpg" width="265" /></a>Y remained silent the entire time we were walking towards the restaurant; unmindful of the incoming wave of pedestrians and makati employees rushing home.<br />
<br />
with a lowered head, Y was just staring straight right past through the sidewalk. perhaps, hoping to see and pick up anything along the way to at least start a conversation.<br />
<br />
when we were in college, Y have always portrayed to be straight, had a number of straight relationships, been a varsity player throughout our college stay, and though Y have a number of gay peers, Y have always preferred to be surrounded with straight friends. <br />
<br />
it was only the later part of our senior year, when Y told me that Y is also attracted with the same sex. and if Y did not admit it, i myself may have never knew.<br />
<br />
eventually after college, Y discreetly pursued same-sex relationships and managed to remain straight in front of family, friends and even workmates. Y was so good at it that sometimes, i laughed on how clueless people were. so Y was determined to keep it that way even after knowing being HIV positive. <br />
<br />
hence, it felt like hell when Y learned about it. <br />
<br />
Y still remained silent even when our food arrived, <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLK6dwqer28sPj1yyaIglKE7z0L1uMvnn8rQ4t23PtCDc0zMgOo1Z-WIhSKLcj1cqh-FVd-twIRTr8BdojSaJTMtEzLLlElqWcShSnbxjI9pZqCMFF0mwVKve9cndMgW4aHpHWUdNkL-Hf/s1600/thGIZWFDG7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
<b></b>
bothered, i recalled being very restless. nagging Y for confirmation of everything that was running inside my head. until i remembered a smart person once told me, that in order for you to smell the sweetest scent of a flower, you just have to wait for it to bloom. <br />
<br />
obviously, i was stupid enough to bombard Y with so many unnecessary questions such as: do you already figure out how you get it? did you have any unprotected sex before? when was the last time you had sex? it pains me even now recalling it.<br />
<br />
now, i realize that these questions no longer matter as they dwell from the past and do not promise any positive help for Y in the future. i realize that instead of accepting, I was actually unconsciously judging Y based on my narrowminded stigma i have with the virus.<br />
<br />
but eventually, the conversation just naturally kicked in. then i learned that what was important that moment was just to listen. no cutting, no asking. no anything. as i will never imagine the thought process and courage Y had to take just to say what Y wanted to say. because at the end of the day, the only question that will matter is a question to myself; simply about what I can do now to people like Y who may be needing me the most. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjERU2ZTdgWfeXDtYpgn96RiZU58-6rjvZfq0-QNPYRLDEWuMhqupIoVD3F8BwWDtm8wH1AtIV1lSymsPPprShwc09Jz646sNgQzDR5vzGHUu5SEh2v_gV2QZz2yBpfWTo8bwJCZ1jz00Nr/s1600/abstract-art-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><br /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjERU2ZTdgWfeXDtYpgn96RiZU58-6rjvZfq0-QNPYRLDEWuMhqupIoVD3F8BwWDtm8wH1AtIV1lSymsPPprShwc09Jz646sNgQzDR5vzGHUu5SEh2v_gV2QZz2yBpfWTo8bwJCZ1jz00Nr/s1600/abstract-art-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjERU2ZTdgWfeXDtYpgn96RiZU58-6rjvZfq0-QNPYRLDEWuMhqupIoVD3F8BwWDtm8wH1AtIV1lSymsPPprShwc09Jz646sNgQzDR5vzGHUu5SEh2v_gV2QZz2yBpfWTo8bwJCZ1jz00Nr/s1600/abstract-art-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="516" data-original-width="640" height="322" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjERU2ZTdgWfeXDtYpgn96RiZU58-6rjvZfq0-QNPYRLDEWuMhqupIoVD3F8BwWDtm8wH1AtIV1lSymsPPprShwc09Jz646sNgQzDR5vzGHUu5SEh2v_gV2QZz2yBpfWTo8bwJCZ1jz00Nr/s400/abstract-art-3.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjERU2ZTdgWfeXDtYpgn96RiZU58-6rjvZfq0-QNPYRLDEWuMhqupIoVD3F8BwWDtm8wH1AtIV1lSymsPPprShwc09Jz646sNgQzDR5vzGHUu5SEh2v_gV2QZz2yBpfWTo8bwJCZ1jz00Nr/s1600/abstract-art-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><b><br /></b></a><br />
<a href="http://www.arthit.ru/abstract/0188/abstract-art-3.jpg">s</a><a href="http://www.arthit.ru/abstract/0188/abstract-art-3.jpg">ource</a><br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
after dinner, Y and i went to my place to possibly further discuss about the situation --- or so we thought. <br />
<br />
for hours, we spent silent conversations with ourselves without realizing how late it became. <br />
<br />
I decided to invite Y to stay over after seeing tears and uncertainties fell over my couch. i thought that it was not the best idea for Y to be alone that night. but Y insisted to go home. <br />
<br />
when Y assured me that it will be alright, I walked Y out of the door with heavy steps. funny, how I can still vividly remember the sound of the door when Y closed it shut as if it was telling me something.<br />
<br />
then after a few minutes, i suddenly heard hard knocks on my door. i immediately rush downstairs and opened it. it was Y, with teary eyes and breaking voice. <br />
<br />
"I just cannot stop shaking."<br />
<br />wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-29117771644581102482017-09-01T20:21:00.001+10:002017-09-04T22:03:51.789+10:00my best friend has HIV i remembered waking up that morning
still feeling tired despite an unusual 8-hour sleep. <br />
<br />
i reached my phone and got a message from Y. with my eyes still half open, i
had to double check. <br />
<br />
the message was a stretch and the first few lines were serious. it was very unusual. being best friends since college, Y and I were never this serious.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTsrsvnqvdFs7JxleogyTpTT4KxuLctxuRHcMENJNQCD3KBEekNDOHh9Dm2mEDmwuL8IxAdwcqeHsbo35frcJIGswoOBylC4-mzu_EJGSDAirgMnnR-Tc3cAhMKEpf_wUlRgPgkbG_o97S/s1600/hqdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTsrsvnqvdFs7JxleogyTpTT4KxuLctxuRHcMENJNQCD3KBEekNDOHh9Dm2mEDmwuL8IxAdwcqeHsbo35frcJIGswoOBylC4-mzu_EJGSDAirgMnnR-Tc3cAhMKEpf_wUlRgPgkbG_o97S/s320/hqdefault.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
i immediately scrolled down to check if it was another of those stupid
messages that would eventually reveal itself as a joke at the end --- but
it did not. <br />
<br />
i even remembered attempting to scroll down further at the end of the message twice before it hit me
that it was not a joke neither was an extension of another forgotten bad dream;
my friend indeed has HIV. <br />
<br />
relatively, i always consider myself as a brave person, who through time
have never gave a bull to what other people say. i wanted to say that i always
tend look at the brighter side of whatever life throws at me. but never this. <br />
<br />
the honest truth is that hiv and aids have always been topics i religiously
evade. some say its because of the stigma. but i say its because it has always
been depicted with sadness among many films i have seen, books i have read and stories I have heard.
hence, for the first time in my life i have chosen to be a conscious ignorant.<br />
<br />
i refused to have myself tested, read anything about it, participate in any
related activities or even join advocacy groups - until fate decided to hit me closer to home and it sucks. really.
really. hard.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTsrsvnqvdFs7JxleogyTpTT4KxuLctxuRHcMENJNQCD3KBEekNDOHh9Dm2mEDmwuL8IxAdwcqeHsbo35frcJIGswoOBylC4-mzu_EJGSDAirgMnnR-Tc3cAhMKEpf_wUlRgPgkbG_o97S/s1600/hqdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><b><br /></b>
i always end up blank and cautious. for a conscious ignorant, i have the tendency to overthink every word and action to Y but with that nagging feeling that you always need to engage. it sucks because you always end up wordless despite your intention of making everything feel almost exactly the same. that despite of it, nothing has changed. but then again, you realize something has to change.<br />
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
honestly, Y was not the first person to trust me with their status. but
despite how many times i receive these, you just never get used to it and it
just keeps on getting worst every time. faces just keep on coming up whenever you see statistics soaring. your heart skips and remember names whenever you hear someone talking about it: and somehow, the issues just keep on getting closer and closer to you; that the more you avoid it, the more it puts you on the corner. <br />
<br />
but that was two years ago. now, looking back, i told myself I want to use my blog in chronicling my experience and how it changed me as a support, a good friend of someone who has HIV and a better person -- i think.<br />
<br />
i want people to learn and laugh with my mistakes, my own ignorance and even my fear. i want to encourage other people in coming up with a more colorful and hopeful depiction of the condition. i want them to understand that like any other shit in life we just have to suck it up and deal with it together; with the hope of eventually achieving a better resolve.<br />
<br />
but for now, i just want to gather all my strength to push that "publish" button.<br />
<br />
smiling knowing i finally did it.<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span>wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-44648937728754031292017-08-22T19:46:00.002+10:002017-08-22T19:51:31.841+10:00intellectualizing sexL came to a point wherein he just want to fuck around. no expectations. no complications. easy. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvjZGuF2MN4t5M0Nmi6l2Wm4TFE7IApppdMeN914AXiXO0LJzkD33hvOApxot3rbXT0lIeN-1vSgL2tc07Oa1-Tk5UxSDajFUhZITj1Xj4OUdqveIQFH4gTWvyFKkW_NKA1R9mKKv48EGD/s1600/th.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvjZGuF2MN4t5M0Nmi6l2Wm4TFE7IApppdMeN914AXiXO0LJzkD33hvOApxot3rbXT0lIeN-1vSgL2tc07Oa1-Tk5UxSDajFUhZITj1Xj4OUdqveIQFH4gTWvyFKkW_NKA1R9mKKv48EGD/s1600/th.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://cdn.emptykingdom.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/1702-we-are-all-prostitutes-they-will-give-us-a-new-name-837-849.jpg">source</a></span></div>
<br />
L meets them up. go somewhere private. no more talking. just undress.<br />
<br />
no need for staring; for appreciating. L has no time. he just need to satisfy his urge, which he thinks might be his own curse. <br />
<br />
skip the gestures. no kissing. no hugging. <br />
<br />
L goes down. flips. moans. screams. clings. everything he needs to know how.<br />
<br />
L turn his back. he cannot know. he cannot remember. L hates why he have to think about this. why does he need to rationalize this?<br />
<br />
L feels the grip growing stronger. L moves faster. L loosen up the grip. it hurts. L breath shorter. L chases the rush. he feels the rush. until finally L surrenders and catches a half sigh. <br />
<br />
then L stands up and put on his clothes. he opens the door and dashes his way out without turning back. after several steps, he leaned flat on the wall and firmly pressed his hand on his chest. <br />
<br />
feeling. <br />
<br />
listening. <br />
<br />
he was just in time - before the next beat. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-61781125590374992002017-08-17T15:32:00.002+10:002017-08-17T20:32:09.754+10:00so how have i been?never been better.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz6JK04i9YRLOZIUAaUzVTKEc1fyXiihSzynkWCEKk-3g8SFJSPySJVKkhYQ2Gt-uFepMqGhlOQ5N95XKfctKuz5lZbaRHLfDDWNbtOH46QMgN8m6UJ3AAV_ZDUMKckgOTl9Q-GECBRGli/s1600/lyka.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz6JK04i9YRLOZIUAaUzVTKEc1fyXiihSzynkWCEKk-3g8SFJSPySJVKkhYQ2Gt-uFepMqGhlOQ5N95XKfctKuz5lZbaRHLfDDWNbtOH46QMgN8m6UJ3AAV_ZDUMKckgOTl9Q-GECBRGli/s320/lyka.jpg" width="176" /></a>last week, i just celebrated my seventh year with my company; and as of the moment, i still have no thoughts of leaving anytime soon.<br />
<br />
i enjoy my work as it gives me a lot of space to move, to learn and grow. i travel very frequently to places which i did not think i would if it was just a personal trip. it makes my brain run. never been a routine, time flies so fast that most of the time it fee<br />
ls you have been robbed. and above all, it gives you a sense of fulfillment and accomplishment at the end of the day.<br />
<br />
i am also committed to someone and have been living together for more than four years now with the most stubborn but the cutest 3-year old siberian husky. we are staying in a 2-bedroom apartment in makati, wherein we also throiw regular sunday dinners for friends and host couchsurfers.<br />
<br />
recently, i enjoy going home early, lie down and do nothing. my mind is clearer than it was before. i still get bored easily but i get by by just thinking nothing.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgczFysOZAAoCQxIE9t8gAUiX39QgtGohz4BDhpCDWfig-flqYUW9Blwgn4Zl8Q5J0bRfx4SegOiN-4ePfs9i85exN7CvOk0lYGhiCDtka4hNVHNxxvppyeEgLyLfU-kGEDQAxuRSmweA58/s1600/streep-quote3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="420" data-original-width="394" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgczFysOZAAoCQxIE9t8gAUiX39QgtGohz4BDhpCDWfig-flqYUW9Blwgn4Zl8Q5J0bRfx4SegOiN-4ePfs9i85exN7CvOk0lYGhiCDtka4hNVHNxxvppyeEgLyLfU-kGEDQAxuRSmweA58/s320/streep-quote3.jpg" width="300" /></a>honestly, i feel like i have less friends now and i do not have any problems with it. i guess, i already came to a point wherein i just keep a few and pretty much satisfied with it.<br />
<br />
as you grow old, you realize friendship is anchored by respect and not by politeness. we tell them the truth than to drown them by illusions due to the fear that we might hurt their feelings.<br />
<br />
one time, i read this statement by meryl streep (though i am not also sure if she really did say this) but boy was i glad to have someone finally put my thoughts in words. ever since then, i started refering it as the meryl streep syndrome.<br />
<br />
there were several attempts to sketch and write but it always end up in the corner. for some reason, i always end up falling short of inspiration. i guess because i was used to channel it from a darker source. hahaha! so now, here i am trying again, taking the first step.<br />
<br />
i also gained so much weight over the past years. in fact, last september, i was rushed and confined for a week in the hospital for almost having a stroke due to travel stress, lack of sleep, lack of exercise and poor diet which i obviously taken for granted. i then realize that maybe this is the way life is telling me that i am no longer getting any younger; that the days of YOLO-ing is finally over.<br />
<br />
but its also ironic how gaining weight made me gained so much confidence, to a point wherein you just stop worrying or stop always trying to prove something. again, you just stop caring. or maybe i am just really growing old.<br />
<br />
today, after finishing two major and grueling projects, blankly looking at my monitor screen. i've finally cornered my head to focus on something: i am thinking of BUSINESS.<br />
<br />
<br />wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-73809530514523733902017-08-15T19:19:00.002+10:002017-08-16T12:16:23.268+10:00version 3.2it has been more than two years.<br />
<br />
two years since the last time i wrote something personal.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJNerGwcu6y7pfnRqRXrtY3FTU3ITt8xueJJM5GsuJ1KVA1oBO1_X17BKGLhyMoiETk1kPzoKsUyMund6URhOurhyphenhyphenjXUN3J3MKFB4lYMBB30mAU8b9BHUmgpynkn-ckmNG9fhWZ6QCKY57/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="224" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJNerGwcu6y7pfnRqRXrtY3FTU3ITt8xueJJM5GsuJ1KVA1oBO1_X17BKGLhyMoiETk1kPzoKsUyMund6URhOurhyphenhyphenjXUN3J3MKFB4lYMBB30mAU8b9BHUmgpynkn-ckmNG9fhWZ6QCKY57/s1600/images.jpg" /></a>reading back my old entries made me realize what an entirely different person i am now. i just turned 32 and i am just glad that i followed a blogger's friend advise of not shutting this blog down way back.<br />
<br />
blogging is not as big as it used to be. many blamed micro-blogging or twitter killed it. while some believed that there was just too many distractions now online that many cannot last staying in just one webpage for more than 3 minutes.<br />
<br />
eventually, many bloggers, including myself, unconsciously turned their backs away from their blog pages and found different outlets to express themselves.<br />
<br />
but once in a while, you find yourself typing that familiar URL address and wondered how it felt like again. how it leads you to other peoples lives and rekindle their stories and conversations you have made. how you imagine how they look like behind their blogs and the truth and lies from their stories. until like a warm stream of gushing water, it overwhelms you. it out-powers you with so much memories and nostalgia until you tell yourself you cannot take it anymore.<br />
<br />
yes, writing an entry nowadays is like opening past wounds.<br />
<br />
for some reason, i am scared to rekindle past emotions as it may mixed up with my current content. i fear that past mental muses will haunt me again and lead me to that deep abyss of complications. i am terrified with the thought that after all these years, i find myself back to where i first started.<br />
<br />
perhaps it was just recently when i was resolved that i am indeed a very emotional person: that my arts and thoughts were linked on how i managed and struggled myself internally. thus, i learned how to suppress my emotions, evade those moments of deep thinking and just taking everything as it is.<br />
<br />
i restrained my politics and avoided others. i refused to listen to other peoples' struggles as i find nothing new about it. i stopped holding a pen to draw or write poems. simply speaking, i grew old and had different priorities; made myself distracted and for some reason i liked it.<br />
<br />
but eventually it makes me realize there is something wrong, lacking or missing. so you tend to force yourself to face all these again and see how it goes from here again.<br />
<br />wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-12480886383324928592015-01-20T18:13:00.002+11:002015-01-20T18:40:00.677+11:00how i manage my own quarter life crisis <span style="font-size: x-small;">* a forward entry inspired by <a href="http://roundtablechallenge.blogspot.com/2015/01/xiii-resurrection.html">roundtable challenge's resurrection</a>. </span><br />
<br />
several months before graduating, i remember sitting beside a good friend on an abandoned pavement. arms wrapped around my worn out sweats, chest touching my knees while we were sharing warmth from a single cigarette stick.<br />
<br />
we still cannot believe that several months from that time, we have to leave the ups and downs of college and start another chapter of our lives. although its not goodbye, we knew that everything will change and somehow our tears were the indicators that we refused to be ready for it.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs1MIxr3HaWJv8NbCtaHkwIQ0HH8HWHakGMf7DnTIEr1nZLtfh5lakT7Nk97Odl6UYEpVU4awIAj68Pnv8SuRFCbO1ThkYhQ4niivWrMcHe5_kKW89_m9hf91kTHxaytBRb4W0yMMot3UX/s1600/1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs1MIxr3HaWJv8NbCtaHkwIQ0HH8HWHakGMf7DnTIEr1nZLtfh5lakT7Nk97Odl6UYEpVU4awIAj68Pnv8SuRFCbO1ThkYhQ4niivWrMcHe5_kKW89_m9hf91kTHxaytBRb4W0yMMot3UX/s1600/1.png" /></a>the first few years were nothing near what we have expected. there were always those murmurs at the back of our heads which keep on reminding us of our frustrations. we always thought coming from a reputable university with good grades, being student leaders and having outstanding extra-curricular achievements would give us better advantage in landing the goals we aimed for. but it didn't. for the companies we applied and worked with, we were nothing but redundant and dispensable gears just to secure the operation is working. but what i hated the most was how we were treated based on our lack of relevant work experience. but i just couldn't blame them.<br />
<br />
every time we meet, we were always almost penniless, working and jumping to one job to another which to begin with, we did not even like and we even agreed not to talk about our lovelives. but what were worst was the fact that these were not even the highlights of our quarter life crises. <br />
<br />
looking back at it now, so many things have changed. the murmurs gradually became silent. we eventually landed on the path we wanted. she went back to the university to teach while i took the corporate life.<br />
<br />
we don't see each other as often as before. we hardly keep in touch and deciding a meeting date or place usually take weeks to do. although we both have these challenges, we still both know that we have each others' backs.<br />
<br />
so how did i make it? through several realizations:<br />
<br />
<b>first, always have dream.</b> a practical and manageable dream. but make sure you are ready to fail and that you are willing to invest a lot of time and patience in it. dreams are never achieved over night, not even months or years. surprisingly, i have realized mine were usually found in places where i didnt expect them to be - most of the time among hard, difficult and similarly stagnant places. <br />
<br />
<b>second, always think that there is no such thing as a "deadlock" job.</b> although something has to pay the rent, people should stay and work for the knowledge and experience and not simply for the money and benefits. despite how stagnant or slow moving a job may be, as long as you are learning and gaining experience- stay; stay like a growing tree. whenever you are thinking of leaving, always ask yourself if you are willing to go back at step 1 in exchange of an additional grand.<br />
<br />
<b>third, build a career.</b> build a career not defined by movies and TV series which are usually based on high salary, benefits, nice clothes, cars or fame. build yours based on your own sense of fulfillment and success.<br />
<br />
<b>fourth, never go where the money is going; rather follow where your career goes.</b> at the end, you will realize that money and fulfillment go to whoever follow their career.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4pwjDiexWKzSi-qDqM79PrgtRZJZV6rPwNsUTDj1yEKdkitaFWg-yOdV3O-43t0MYish1s7-5WWF5ev4doiLjyWzdd-2nlJxnIGMo0utzAHK4qgvlZH-rFr2PnBSl2SBNBW50jkmMxC7/s1600/diagram.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4pwjDiexWKzSi-qDqM79PrgtRZJZV6rPwNsUTDj1yEKdkitaFWg-yOdV3O-43t0MYish1s7-5WWF5ev4doiLjyWzdd-2nlJxnIGMo0utzAHK4qgvlZH-rFr2PnBSl2SBNBW50jkmMxC7/s1600/diagram.png" height="204" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><br /></b>
<b>fifth, learn to appreciate.</b> although there are people who were born with a lot of goodluck genes, most people were just born. for most people, they achieved there dreams without even realizing it because an actualized dream may happen to be different from how we imagine it. hence, many tend to overlook it and less appreciative of what they have.<br />
<br />
in writing this, it doesn't mean that i have already reached my goals. in fact, i am still working on an 8 to infinity shift, with OTTY (Over Time, Thank You) while stealing some time writing this entry. i have no car and i am still renting an apartment with a couple of friends who i need to share the expenses. but <i>i am contended</i>.<br />
<br />
i like the feeling that despite the stress and work problems, i can still smile and feel a certain level of fulfillment whenever i go out of work. then i am greeted by a warm embrace when i arrive home.<br />
<br />
i like the feeling that time flies because somehow i like what i am doing. and most specially, i know that the knowledge and experience i am gaining will eventually carry me to my next dream. so for those, experiencing this, just stay put and be a tree; patient but growing. its just a phase.wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-32202841204945507892014-07-28T18:26:00.002+10:002014-07-28T18:26:58.824+10:00confession of a male concubine<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEianzxK6H4Nfc4orGHEIfUL5bDRua4CWsDGRBp4HxpeXKQKyQUtiYTuKUZYHx5ldy2igXH_mJ3oUA47FZCLJzzQ92RrNOgsQeitZvlsaGFw76GojnITSs2Lf0MfdXxqmcSwsR6MebV0FpQi/s1600/bed.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEianzxK6H4Nfc4orGHEIfUL5bDRua4CWsDGRBp4HxpeXKQKyQUtiYTuKUZYHx5ldy2igXH_mJ3oUA47FZCLJzzQ92RrNOgsQeitZvlsaGFw76GojnITSs2Lf0MfdXxqmcSwsR6MebV0FpQi/s1600/bed.png" /></a>i dont know how long we have been lying down that time. all i could remember was the gentle rhythm of your snore and how i patiently followed the shadows in your wall.<br />
<br />
i dont know if i have ever told you how i love looking at your window. amazed on how competing sky-rises have missed blocking such a rare urban sight from the inner view of your room: a moon set.<br />
<br />
always finding a certain feeling of loneliness when the shadows have finally disappeared. its time for me to go back home.<br />
<br />
i recalled the conversations we had last night after i asked you if feelings bother someone alike when it comes to sex.<br />
<br />
you answered. it will be stupid for someone to equate sex with love. you have sex just to answer an urge. you fall in love to build something way more lasting, something more secured (i silently laughed at the last word).<br />
<br />
i became silent. the answer could definitely put any hoping soul to their respective places and from their i already knew my part.<br />
<br />
i pulled my pants up. hoping it will hold without my missing belt on. but it could only last for the next 12 steps before i have to pull it up again.<br />
<br />
a close friend once told me how annoying i could be when i start talking and thinking about life's technicalities. its funny that i have thought of this while asking myself why shoes are designed to fit a specific side of the feet while socks don't.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2y7fRWZ3r-py9BOZXcBDJzq5C3ZFMOOhOGGsWYJ2FvUSLkHnT4O_B5IS17qOn-8-bGuUxEhuH2Uhyr5mPHDDsHryccCKpzxMI1tm0kLQQZLo1Wubx3zjZsIzm2wl8bwvBHnZuPMIh2MKv/s1600/bed2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2y7fRWZ3r-py9BOZXcBDJzq5C3ZFMOOhOGGsWYJ2FvUSLkHnT4O_B5IS17qOn-8-bGuUxEhuH2Uhyr5mPHDDsHryccCKpzxMI1tm0kLQQZLo1Wubx3zjZsIzm2wl8bwvBHnZuPMIh2MKv/s1600/bed2.png" height="213" width="320" /></a>if one should not equate sex to love, then why are there people who question love just because of sex?<br />
<br />
<br />
its interesting how people paradoxically put confusing weight on the topic of sex and love. some will say its situational and practical while some say its selfish.<br />
<br />
but if someone had sex with another other than his/her partner would that mean s/he doesn't love his partner anymore?<br />
<br />
is relationship and fidelity exclusively anchored by sex, by love, by both or by something we always deny to matter?<br />
<br />
our social contracts have told us that this is how it should be while the rest of our consciousness would clamor it should have been another way around.<br />
<br />
before i could finally close the door, i took one last glimpse at you. your body at your side, pushing your legs to your center, hugging and looking for that warmth. honestly, i always liked this part; for this is the only time you are vulnerable. the only time i can be the one who leaves you behind.<br />
<br />
i just hope that later, by the time the one who truly owns that bed space returns, s/he will feel my warmth on those sheets as it hugs across your body. just at the very least, s/he knows that i exist. wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-74538422074440563662014-05-10T19:12:00.003+10:002014-05-10T19:19:45.816+10:00when lovers look love like sex "its just simply like that. my priorities have changed. i am working my ass out and the only thing i am asking for is to feel it again."<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjiEBkR40eQeuJuFlNpWKd-QN-eimoWhHYDmRuGgCOLdDjRLy1v_imtOCm7ptMpIozwlQhbWk8Nb9CSD4cldGng9eQkgZCClGcsQqsXSZZ3KHVfqVs-FxDjelU-gmtQHvyezvTLHiNdoze/s1600/HerShadow-nonofarahshila-351x450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjiEBkR40eQeuJuFlNpWKd-QN-eimoWhHYDmRuGgCOLdDjRLy1v_imtOCm7ptMpIozwlQhbWk8Nb9CSD4cldGng9eQkgZCClGcsQqsXSZZ3KHVfqVs-FxDjelU-gmtQHvyezvTLHiNdoze/s1600/HerShadow-nonofarahshila-351x450.jpg" height="320" width="249" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.storiedmind.com/men-depression/talking-to-depression-partner/">source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
sometimes i just want to be reminded how we became siblings. you see, my sister just recently moved to the states. she left a family who is dead worried and a boyfriend for five years. <br />
<br />
<br />
one day, mom called me to discuss about the guy. she told me that he has been calling her almost every hour just to say how much he loves my sister. so its no big surprise, when he said that he wants to marry her. the surprise came when my sister refused and finally called for a cool off.<br />
<br />
this drove not only her boyfriend but everyone of us crazy!<br />
<br />
you see. my sister and i could probably the closest in the family since we were just a year apart. however, in terms of personality, we are completely opposite. she is religious, i am spiritual. she is bookish, (i want to say) i am street smart. she is sheltered, while i am adventurous. there is not a single thing we share.<br />
<br />
"kuya, i am tired. i just do not feel it anymore. when he says he loves me, even if it i know he really mean it, it just dont simply go across. believe me, i tried everything but regardless of what i do, i just cant simply bring back that feeling anymore. everything is not the same. i know you will tell me again, how immature i am. how i am still stuck up with those highschool kilig! how i should have not read those romance novels and watched those teeny bopper films. but i am who i am.and i dont think that will change."<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
two weeks after, a close friend from college organized a reunion. she wanted to hang out with the gang just like the good times. looking at us over a table of ribs and shacks, i can say a lot have really changed. but when i was about to say its for the better, she dropped the real reason of the get together.<br />
<br />
"i am filing an annulment."<br />
<br />
our jaw dropped.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkMHqSAIQq_MNFo5UUM2_UvlcR3QZKkFZB6MeVKNZov2uuTdUKn1odlQnY00d8wpIsyhek50y2mBjMYq-mn9E3riLIRDzwl_fPJp_n4iCbKQyPJneHLISsMPaxlTKPpLPt6ooUBKx9HP6G/s1600/lady-in-shadow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkMHqSAIQq_MNFo5UUM2_UvlcR3QZKkFZB6MeVKNZov2uuTdUKn1odlQnY00d8wpIsyhek50y2mBjMYq-mn9E3riLIRDzwl_fPJp_n4iCbKQyPJneHLISsMPaxlTKPpLPt6ooUBKx9HP6G/s1600/lady-in-shadow.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.businessinsider.com/i-have-well-and-truly-burned-out-2012-10">source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
when all of us were green envious of how her life turned out; peak of her career, wife to a surfer artist who owns a business, have the most travelling stunts here and abroad, here she is planning to break up with the man we have always dreamed for her.<br />
<br />
"there is no third party neither he did something wrong. in fact, he is wonderful. more than what you guys and i have asked for. but somehow, i just feel like i am not being true to myself and worst to us. he has been a wonderful man but for some reason i cannot appreciate it. its seem like i am being unfair."<br />
<br />
she mentioned about getting alienated with all the things she wants to do and the promises around her. she feels like she is like a not cage pet bird. she can fly but too scared to go out. it is as if she is all tangled and tied with an invisible string of considerations.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
when many people equate sex to love, we laugh at them. but here are the most of us, not realizing how funny we look at love like sex.<br />
<br />
always craving for that insatiable journey filled with paradox, excitement and passion; without realizing how short-lived it is. hence, we continuously repeat the scene, praying that whatever those feelings were will remain. however, they don't.<br />
<br />
funny how everyone long for a lasting relationship but refused to accept the fact that these feelings are usually temporary. of course, there will always be a million ways to prolong it, but at the end, it is just a matter of accepting-- settling.<br />
<br />
i may never be able to make this understand by my sister neither to have enough guts to tell this to my friend, but i guess, love and relationship are not always for the selfish. its not always about how good it feels like. how it makes our stomach turns, tickles our spine and makes us smile, its a matter of accepting the time when this feeling will eventually fade to open doors for another feeling--- a more "mutual one".<br />
<br />
a feeling where impressions and superficialities no longer matter. where the most lavished and sweetest gestures transgress to gentle holding hands or kissing him/her first thing in the morning even without brushing nor gargling. its not simply about what makes you happy but how both of you make each other feel contentment.<br />
<br />
love is not like sex. it does not extinguish after orgasm then you can repeat again after each wake up. <br />
<br />
just like what gaiman said, omnia mutantur, nihil interit (everything changes, but nothing is truly lost). denying change drawn from fear of leading into nothing, simply means refusing to be someone better.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHehvPTxJYIstDxSrK4thPCXrxt5VMoEDq33K7J5rslCW-LPyfUiYhI7-AJLFDppNY9fo3FuvKxz8RCmWaF3jF4n789NiHQqQ0np8gRKiaSSokORcgNWviO-fgU_a479tC1q1j5IUFjIwW/s1600/12577080-vintage-photo-of-two-wooden-rocking-chairs-on-the-wooden-porch-overlooking-the-ocean.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHehvPTxJYIstDxSrK4thPCXrxt5VMoEDq33K7J5rslCW-LPyfUiYhI7-AJLFDppNY9fo3FuvKxz8RCmWaF3jF4n789NiHQqQ0np8gRKiaSSokORcgNWviO-fgU_a479tC1q1j5IUFjIwW/s1600/12577080-vintage-photo-of-two-wooden-rocking-chairs-on-the-wooden-porch-overlooking-the-ocean.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.123rf.com/photo_2217529_rocking-chairs-on-porch.html">source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
at the end, love and life is not about lingering the past, but appreciating the present and keep going for tomorrow--- together.<br />
<div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjiEBkR40eQeuJuFlNpWKd-QN-eimoWhHYDmRuGgCOLdDjRLy1v_imtOCm7ptMpIozwlQhbWk8Nb9CSD4cldGng9eQkgZCClGcsQqsXSZZ3KHVfqVs-FxDjelU-gmtQHvyezvTLHiNdoze/s1600/HerShadow-nonofarahshila-351x450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-65268680276092315102014-02-20T21:46:00.000+11:002014-02-20T21:46:26.753+11:00tonight we might write the saddest story probably one of the saddest part of life is waking up an inch away from someone you thought to be the person you will spent your life with.<br />
<br />
looking at that space. it reminded you about the entire journey of you finally finding yourself here. the almost endless search, solitary introspects and countless meltdowns.<br />
<br />
interesting how much that inch of space can draw things out from your head. about monotony, being stagnant, and basically just being --- this.<br />
<br />
being this when you have so much to give and do. when the picture of life ahead is strangely different from the idea you have framed before.<br />
<br />
is this something you can work on or bear for the rest of your life?<br />
<br />
it makes it more complex when loving seem to be more difficult. not because an emotion is absent but because competing to provide more than what is the other resonates becomes rather tiring and unachievable.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi90C3tCFbZV2F2pbeI1nbHJ5GxnXfqR_n8YsJ-v6BlI5e_hL_Qm8SrIJ4hnp8St75r-Td8phhZNas9F80zk9VeRHPysABNn_JJYGlOfBIoc3n1nemEATH5U_hMf56f-B5uSRmWDnwTRvim/s1600/sad.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi90C3tCFbZV2F2pbeI1nbHJ5GxnXfqR_n8YsJ-v6BlI5e_hL_Qm8SrIJ4hnp8St75r-Td8phhZNas9F80zk9VeRHPysABNn_JJYGlOfBIoc3n1nemEATH5U_hMf56f-B5uSRmWDnwTRvim/s1600/sad.png" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.google.com.ph/imgres?sa=X&espvd=210&es_sm=93&biw=1366&bih=667&tbm=isch&tbnid=THR_dEPM7JGdXM%3A&imgrefurl=http%3A%2F%2Fthinghswelost.blogspot.com%2F&docid=b40Fk51dxg8wTM&imgurl=http%3A%2F%2F3.bp.blogspot.com%2F_NDK7rJ-iZ9I%2FTH0cKLRLJkI%2FAAAAAAAAA9g%2F0oKKOkDTZx4%2Fs1600%2FShine_4bca4baab29f0.jpg&w=655&h=457&ei=dtsFU-_RBoz9lAXI5IHQBg&zoom=1&ved=0CFcQhBwwAg&iact=rc&dur=1631&page=1&start=0&ndsp=20">source</a></td></tr>
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it makes you wonder the last time your stomach churn because of uncertainty or how your body hair raise because of excitement. you realized you have unconsciously become numb.<br />
<br />
you are caught in between crossroads: when your youth is clamoring for your potentials while your perspective cries for stability.<br />
<br />
funny how it is all happening inside but you can not seem to find the answer within. but its even funnier, knowing that this was everything you wanted --- the fruit of waiting and those forgotten memories; but now you cannot seem to find the right facilities to hold on it.<br />
<br />
you rose up from the bed and stood next to the remains of a not distant memory. trying to focus on the smallest details from the lines, curves and minute movements: basically tracing back the reasons.<br />
<br />
more than happiness and passion, it is never easy to claim contentment. but it is interesting how most, position time in a paradigm of pure emotions and rationalization.<br />
<br />
somehow, it torn us; and our ideas of a perfect companionship. asking how can someone drop something everyone has been dying to be in? something invested with so much and have managed to have stayed for the longest time--- until now?<br />
<br />
tonight, you might write the same sad story over again or perhaps a new one. but regardless, of where your pen leads you, promise me, you will neither be scared of making a decision nor come up with something just out of your volition.<br />
<br />
wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-59694412182816612952013-12-26T17:27:00.001+11:002013-12-26T17:33:07.261+11:00baler<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3OlPcyZ78zOqoSwDvLnLQNNlvVP_owMkgU3sBQ-31PREOkm8-_06rEgOEG5iPDtJdlCwr0s0MXBU5b5GJzr_K6BdtD7r_fyNGf1k8dEaTZm-Qltv4E5Ao3fPv9c5qZqiaI_zviIU2skXF/s1600/baler3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3OlPcyZ78zOqoSwDvLnLQNNlvVP_owMkgU3sBQ-31PREOkm8-_06rEgOEG5iPDtJdlCwr0s0MXBU5b5GJzr_K6BdtD7r_fyNGf1k8dEaTZm-Qltv4E5Ao3fPv9c5qZqiaI_zviIU2skXF/s320/baler3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
“Life is like the surf, so give yourself away like the sea”</div>
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- Ana, y tu mama tambien </div>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbb1GdTz7PVX5D4JVDCbvi12Is0AtXGkpwbk7Phf1zst1atYKsJGESGY3856ilcBi9okwK_3upQsTKqTuwWIqnUPmSIcDfZKc758P4gMrr4BnoNI80fSeFFY7bdjzFPykDWeNXbzgkBaCa/s1600/123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbb1GdTz7PVX5D4JVDCbvi12Is0AtXGkpwbk7Phf1zst1atYKsJGESGY3856ilcBi9okwK_3upQsTKqTuwWIqnUPmSIcDfZKc758P4gMrr4BnoNI80fSeFFY7bdjzFPykDWeNXbzgkBaCa/s320/123.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
this year marks a good start of another way of communing with myself. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohk8x3EZ1zfIKGy7YZBs9toxInt4QQVNa0ApV-ZxwN5XZt6cj4gvFlzFm6JNpFf3CqXtuWxFU_pkB6wQpYHnYoCtmPR9NgKPdTMjZzPyZKaYuqQy5YAT91K4ZMmthdkVbAgFyLV8HEB5B/s1600/baler2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohk8x3EZ1zfIKGy7YZBs9toxInt4QQVNa0ApV-ZxwN5XZt6cj4gvFlzFm6JNpFf3CqXtuWxFU_pkB6wQpYHnYoCtmPR9NgKPdTMjZzPyZKaYuqQy5YAT91K4ZMmthdkVbAgFyLV8HEB5B/s320/baler2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
through silent howls and dancing currents</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3GUVABO-q8NcW8qLeqxupOePesgs6A8WrruwgGENnaR6nmo8KjesVI_fMf0oZiOAzwzlz5SjV37GubCRBDa_tcn_PM8Eo_AW4WbstrsOMtafpwaDDN1ve11gjK2SnNDjngkb2LI5oJ1x8/s1600/PhotoGrid_1387757337777.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3GUVABO-q8NcW8qLeqxupOePesgs6A8WrruwgGENnaR6nmo8KjesVI_fMf0oZiOAzwzlz5SjV37GubCRBDa_tcn_PM8Eo_AW4WbstrsOMtafpwaDDN1ve11gjK2SnNDjngkb2LI5oJ1x8/s320/PhotoGrid_1387757337777.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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through remnants of everything we have left behind</div>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtyjH5Kx0cTy6HSbKBrIRlKeGgcYBWbmtu8NIEKrLmorVUcZmpUUSLA2LZHyCyfyMD2QQPixcytMhaDXgxBFvRFvhMM-eyqZkHsmmWXzUq2BMui_KY_sr4PlGw5Sl7RjNLbPPJw-Kk0F4t/s1600/PhotoGrid_1387760799943.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtyjH5Kx0cTy6HSbKBrIRlKeGgcYBWbmtu8NIEKrLmorVUcZmpUUSLA2LZHyCyfyMD2QQPixcytMhaDXgxBFvRFvhMM-eyqZkHsmmWXzUq2BMui_KY_sr4PlGw5Sl7RjNLbPPJw-Kk0F4t/s320/PhotoGrid_1387760799943.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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i have learned more how to commune with you</div>
wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-74244565318305270092013-12-06T16:39:00.000+11:002013-12-06T16:39:46.120+11:00How Secret Lives can take Lives but still keep It a Secret<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">Its just one of those regular scenes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Inside a wide room, where clouds are suspended
and other paradoxes secretly happen, Leron took his usual spot. No longer a
noob when it comes to this but definitely a first after a very long time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWyxX6JeA_Gw__9lfG1C8O5B9tlilGD5QARkSh6L7Qwe7kgE1BJnTbM-5S3GtK1NwZur0rYoyR0F5X5A-vIZUJXdx4HJX2BvnOPTkh35KY03hXR1Jr4WLIJMj_Zt80Fxv8WmMY2v7yF9VJ/s1600/steamroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWyxX6JeA_Gw__9lfG1C8O5B9tlilGD5QARkSh6L7Qwe7kgE1BJnTbM-5S3GtK1NwZur0rYoyR0F5X5A-vIZUJXdx4HJX2BvnOPTkh35KY03hXR1Jr4WLIJMj_Zt80Fxv8WmMY2v7yF9VJ/s320/steamroom.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN"><a href="http://fineartamerica.com/featured/steam-room-art-nomad-sandra-hansen.html">source</a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">"Sometimes I just hope they could expand
this side of the spa."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Both of them smiled but inside, Leron knew its
the queue. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">After a series of small talk exchanges, they have
decided to go out and spent some time over a couple of bottles; waiting for the day to break. Leron was in the mood of being too generous and offered a ride. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Inside, both of them were silent, still waiting
for who will make the first move. Leron decided to put his focus on the road
while the passenger was busy checking his phone. The trip going to a
destination has always been the most awkward part for Leron. Its a usual scene
of no one wants to take the lead; scared of making a mistake that would either
lead to a bad impression or ruined everything they've mutually invested. Both were bounded with rule is <i>the lesser, the
safer.</i> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">Eventually the passenger decided to break the directionless drive.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxURLxqjp0Ay4tzb1I8A4xe-r87WD_x96DjpWsxSa-ywB0L7qu9a5J_7Remoe1Mu5RcwnJwKrtfJqy5izPgXr50Uf5yPzU9iVYn1agqqSj_9Z5ZksTh8uI6-ap7EI3BLZhf1n1GJxdS2zi/s1600/roxas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxURLxqjp0Ay4tzb1I8A4xe-r87WD_x96DjpWsxSa-ywB0L7qu9a5J_7Remoe1Mu5RcwnJwKrtfJqy5izPgXr50Uf5yPzU9iVYn1agqqSj_9Z5ZksTh8uI6-ap7EI3BLZhf1n1GJxdS2zi/s320/roxas.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10pt; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/22326777@N06/8369734413">source</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">"Do you want to go to the hotel I am checked
in instead?"</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Leron abide, relieved that they have already a
definite place to go. He taught, he was no longer used to this. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Surprisingly,
they parked in front of another hotel, three blocks away from what he thought
they were heading. Leron started doubting if it was really the name of the hotel the
passenger said. He might be hearing different things already since
he has been awake for more than 24 hours, straight from days work. So Leron just convinced himself that its probably part of a common drill. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Bravely, they ventured along piles and piles of
dark alleys and forgotten scents until they have reached a makeshift castle,
where the forsaken have probably owned it as their paradise. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Leron was caught out of his expectations.
Hesitations started pumping in. Leron started to feel an internal struggle to pursue this or not. However, he
thought that the act has already been decided and it should be done. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">The passenger took the lead as paths of thousand
turns reveal like a labrynth of lost souls. Leron thought they could have already
done it there but the howls of yesteryear's repressions were too distracting
behind those moisten walls. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">At the end, they have reached what Leron thought
to be a dungeon, a small and humid box that looks like the package box of the
bed in the middle. Dismayed, he just wanted it to be done and over with before
he loses his determination. But when he was just about to close the door, two
men brute fully broke in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"Did you know that you are with a
minor?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Leron was just too surprised to spur a remark. It
was as if words dried out from his throat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"Did you know that we can file a complaint
against you for this?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Suddenly, images of people he loves started
flashing; faces he have kept his secrets from just because he did not want them
to get hurt. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"Do you want us to tell this to the
authorities or perhaps we can bring this out in the public?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"NO!" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Familiar voices, similar prejudices, he was
convinced he is not yet prepared to face this. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"I can settle this! this is just a simple
misunder..."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"P10,000.00 then! pay us P10,000 and we will
let this pass!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"But I do not have that much."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"He is lying," finally the act was
revealed, "I saw his wallet inside the car. He pretty much have that
amount. If not, he has cards too.'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Z9oxPVXY6z8UaNjpjeIhyVpvFeVBPgx-WCF5RgEI7Cq0EZZ9CVaCcbS3xXImImYuS7cafd-emL4GmpkAn1g0s-uBsJFC8u9NdVMuUAWiFIK1e0f9zdXVH7lYMgJyXrtsEeiqlV2bSJZR/s1600/shadow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Z9oxPVXY6z8UaNjpjeIhyVpvFeVBPgx-WCF5RgEI7Cq0EZZ9CVaCcbS3xXImImYuS7cafd-emL4GmpkAn1g0s-uBsJFC8u9NdVMuUAWiFIK1e0f9zdXVH7lYMgJyXrtsEeiqlV2bSJZR/s320/shadow.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/applewei/8829359630/">source</a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"Give us your pin number. We (but refering
to other guy) will withdraw the amount for you. Just make sure that you are
telling us the truth or else."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Leron was now in full remorse. He cannot believe
that he was dragged into this scheme. All he could think of was to knocked the
heads out of these people. But before he could land his fist to the person
nearest to him, the three immediately violently tackled him down. One strongly
held both of his arms. The other grabbed his legs while the passenger started
pulling his pants off. Leron never felt so helpless. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">When the passenger successfully pulled his pants
off, he immediately took his wallet, Iphone5 and car keys. Leron told himself,
he cannot let this pass. He just cannot forgive himself for letting these
people do this to him. In an instant, he heard himself screaming for help. He
knew that the other occupants are already aware of whats happening inside. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">But suddenly he felt a wide and rough fabric
around his neck. The man who was holding his arms before, wrapped a military
belt around and started strangling him. Leron immediately held it, convincing
himself he cannot die there. He needed to fight back. But the other guy who was
previously holding his legs threw strong punches on his chest and face. He was
starting to lose count. Everything was beginning to blacken out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">He tried to look for the passenger, thinking of
having a last look of the person who dragged him there. Probably thinking, he
would look for him on the other side.
But the passenger was no longer inside the room, probably headed to his
car, where most of his belongings are also in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">But when he was about to accept his fate, the
buckle of the belt broke. He never felt so much appreciation to the air that
started filling his lungs. He immediately kicked the guy in front while the guy
at his back was relooping his belt. Eventually, the owner of the apartelle,
along with other faces (Leron can no longer remember), came in and started
shouting at the brutes. The two immediately fled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Still trying to gain his strength, a pants and
shirtless Leron tried chasing them--- alone. No one inside dared to go with
him. Outside, he saw two shadows running toward the directions of where his car
was parked. He shouted--- screamed for help. But again, no one dared to
respond. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">When he reached the parking space, the picture of
his car still there was a relief. He immediately went to it and checked for anything
that could clear his suspicions. The car was still locked; his other phone and
cardholder were no longer there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">He immediately ran toward the guard of the hotel
in front of him, begging to call for police. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"What happened?," the guard on duty asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"I got robbed! Call the police!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"By who?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"By three men. Please call the police."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"Are they the three guys who pass by here
just now."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"Yes! Now, call the cops!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"But isn't one of them the same guy, you are
with when you parked the car in front?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"Manong, can I just explain it later. Please
call the cops!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"Unfortunately, I don't have their
numbers."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">It was unbelievable. All he could think of was
what he have done to deserve all this. Fortunately, one of the front desk
staff, who was silently listening to the conversation, approached them and
said,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"The cops are already on their way."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">When the cops arrived, Leron was asked with the
standard questions. Based from the manner of asking, he felt like they already
know what happened. Later on, it was revealed that a similar case happened two
weeks ago in the same area. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"So what is the update?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">"We are still investigating it. We have
leads but they need to be validated further since the victim refused to give
clear statements. Can you tell me how you meet this guy?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Silence. Everything just happened so fast that
Leron have not yet prepared himself from these questions. He knows that if he
says the truth, this will be put on the police record with his real name on it.
What if his parents requested and learned about it? What if this will be used
in the court and read while his loved ones are there? What if his loved ones
find out?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">But if he don't, these guys will still be on the
loose and another person may be robbed, beaten or worst dead. Hence, Leron
decided to push through the case. Unfortunately, he needed to fabricate some
parts of the events just for his secret not to be compromised. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">At the end, he is just grateful that he is still
alive and praying that no one will endure the same experience he had. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">*** <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Writer's Note:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">I took the liberty of writing Leron's story to at
least expose these existing and growing modus operandi. He might not have told
the complete truth to the authorities but at least by sharing his story, a life
may be saved. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Currently, Leron is still recovering from the
bruises and trauma he have endured. But in general, he is trying to be fine and
will definitely take this as a major life lesson.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">These scenes are not new to most of us since
crime can happen to anyone. We have heard similar stories of people getting
killed or robbed out of a supposed to be one night stands and home service
massages.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">Despite these, I believe that there are still
best practices we could observe to avoid such situation. Many may not agree
with it but at least for some people I know, these have helped them in
mitigating these situations from happening.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Symbol; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN">White stalking <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Waiting for the fruit to get ripe is sweeter than not waiting at all. For
some, they would usually allot a specific time before inviting someone over.
This period are usually allotted in doing some due diligence or in layman's
term, stalking. Yes, just like lying, there is such term as white stalking. Maximize
social media. Check his friends (or your mutual friends). The places he go. The
things he does. These enable one to check the identity and profile of a person.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo3; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN">Dress NEVER for
the kill<o:p></o:p></span></li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">It is more advisable to go out in low profile. Bring only a simple talk and
text phone. If possible, just bring one card, which could finance you all
throughout your itinerary. Distribute your money and not just in one pocket or wallet.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo3; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN">Safer
Impressions <o:p></o:p></span></li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">More than how you look, conversations usually take the bigger part of the
impression pie. Also, for many individuals who are planning something bad
against you, it is what you say that confirm whether you are a right target or
not. Hence, talk about things that interest you and not what you have inside
your closet. Challenge what the other thinks and discuss more about the person
more than yourself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN">Private in
Public<o:p></o:p></span></li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">It is always recommended to do it in a neutral zone. Neutral zones are
basically hotels or motels, where it is easier to seek assistance or help just
in case an untoward incident happens. It is more advisable not to invite anyone
inside your house neither entertain an invitation to go to theirs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN">In the event you only have a smartphone, maximize your mobile
apps<o:p></o:p></span></li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">There are a lot of mobile apps nowadays that can be put into a more
specific but practical use beyond what they are intended to do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Mobile App Trackers – There are a number of mobile apps that you could use
nowadays to at least protect your smart phones. Most of these apps allow you to
track your stolen phone. Take a picture of whoever is trying to break in to
your account and even remotely wipe out files and data from your device to
protect your information. Some of these are the following: iCloud’s Find my
Iphone, Samsung’s Locate my Mobile, Cerberus, GotYa!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Cloud storage apps – Intended to store and access same files in different
devices, These apps can be later used as a good applications to identify a
possible suspect. Just make sure that it is linked with another device. So in
the event, someone stole your phone and decided to take a <i>selfie</i> of himself, these mobile apps will automatically upload and
share it to the cloud and other devices linked to it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN">Social Media Check-ins – Let your friends and families RANDOMLY know where
you are, especially if you are going somewhere by yourself. Just in case, this
give them good leads.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
At the end, I believe that no one can judge anyone because of the decisions s/he makes and the situations s/he subject him/herself into. All of us have our reasons, which many may not understand. However, in each of these situations, we are still responsible for the decisions we make and we ought it to ourselves, our families and love ones to be at the very least safe. </div>
wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-4243132963838132582013-08-12T18:38:00.000+10:002013-08-12T18:40:50.146+10:00salamat, pare<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">*an attempt to write a coming of age short story for a writing class many years ago.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Sure na ako, Rod.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Saan?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Bakla si kuya.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHj77ft-Tk4GzoBchF-qHvw1ljn42QpiS1fFwKcU2nYphAXKDZk54IA_XbRSmeHWzj8Huxc8wqJ_gp4phazn5MiecPufAvorGlZoeQ-p1fNPvZ-912ZaNOQL292IsL6e7r59za7gHX6Wb7/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHj77ft-Tk4GzoBchF-qHvw1ljn42QpiS1fFwKcU2nYphAXKDZk54IA_XbRSmeHWzj8Huxc8wqJ_gp4phazn5MiecPufAvorGlZoeQ-p1fNPvZ-912ZaNOQL292IsL6e7r59za7gHX6Wb7/s320/2.jpg" width="320" /></a>Ang totoo, naloka talaga ako sa sinabing yun ni
Jake nang minsang tawagan ko siya. Bigla akong nagdalawang isip kung itutuloy ko pa ang balak
ko.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Kababalik ko lang nun <i>fresh from the city
of pines</i> para sa halos isang buwang sem break. At siyempre, isa siya sa
mga agad ko’ng tinawagan para tagpuin. Hindi na nga kami nagkabosesan. Matagal-tagal
na din kasi ng huli kaming nag-usap. Alam mo na, busy sa college life,
adjustments and all that. Lalo na sa mga pagbabagong na<i>realize </i>ko
duon. Ang tanda ko na nga, may mga <i>realizations
</i>nang nagaganap. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Nagulat ako nang makita ko si Jake. Bigla akong
naniwalang may pag-asa pa ang <i>world peace</i>. Ang laki ng pinagbago
niya. Hiyang-hiya ang <i>Doc Martens, </i>na suot-suot ko at mainit-init
pa galing <i>UK-UK,</i> sa gara ng kanyang <i>boy next door look,</i> nang magkita kami. Ipagyayabang ko pa sanang bente pesos
ko lang nabili ang suot ko.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Bumukol ang matipunong pangangatawan ni Jake sa
suot niyang puting shirt. Kapansin-pansin ang gamunggo niyang mga utong sa
likod nito; and I confess father, may biglang pumitik sa loob ng
brief ko. Pero malice aside, hindi mapagkakailang lumabas ang tikas at likas na
kagwapuhan niya ngayon. Malayo na sa gusgusin at pilyong bata na mahilig
umakyat at pumapak ng hilaw na aratilis. Hindi na nga mapagkakailang lahi
talaga sila ng mga modelo’t artista. Nasan ba kasi ang nanay ko nung single pa
ang tatay niya? Ewan ko ba.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Kuya?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Oo, Kuya ko, si Kuya Mark.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Anim na taon ang tanda sa amin ni Mark. Pero
technically, mas matanda kami sa kanya dahil <i>leap year</i> siya
pinanganak. May minsan din na pinagdudahan namin na baka <i>special child</i> siya<i>.</i> <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Pero habang lumalaki kami, madalang namin siyang
makasama ni Jake. Tahimik at reserved<i> </i>kasi
siya. Kundi nagpapawis sa basketball ay nagkukulong lang siya sa kwarto. Kaya
hindi na ako magugulat kung pagkakamalan siyang may sariling facebook ng mga
imaginary friends. Teka, nasabi ko na bang <i>leap year </i>siya
pinanganak? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Pero in a serious note, noong namatay ang tatay
nila isang taon matapos makapasa ni Mark sa engineering board, siya ang sumalo
sa pamilya. Winner siya sa pagiging Gawad ulirang kapatid. Sabay niya kaming
tinuturuan ni Jake sa mga assignments at review college entrance exams namin. At
kahit ngayong patapos na kami sa kolehiyo, siya pa din ang nagiging takbuhan namin
kapag may mahihirap kaming mga proyekto.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Paano mo naman nasabi?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Basta parang may nagbago kay kuya. Napansin ko
lang, pare parang pasikip ng pasikip ang damit niya,</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Huh?! bakit ikaw?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Rocker ako. E, Siya wala namang banda.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWU49EcDDvb-R7YiZCI68izxeiqfFjVQLCHl_NtvlFIRn_83lPaVBK1hkGNiLFS015dmviVCgoPNPl6fi-gpEVDMoeNsef7bhhegp7RQTXzM9FwnfGfYaGuMgf4Vsb2k9DXaC8ampMT7RW/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWU49EcDDvb-R7YiZCI68izxeiqfFjVQLCHl_NtvlFIRn_83lPaVBK1hkGNiLFS015dmviVCgoPNPl6fi-gpEVDMoeNsef7bhhegp7RQTXzM9FwnfGfYaGuMgf4Vsb2k9DXaC8ampMT7RW/s320/3.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Siguro ngayon alam niyo na kung bakit kami magkaibigan, <i>he never fails
to surprise me. </i>Kung may sariling mundo si Mark, may sarili namang
perception sa mga bagay-bagay itong si Jake.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>At ang choice of colors, ang sakit-sakit sa mata,
daig pa ang reflector ng jeep.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Ayaw mo nun hindi siya masasagasaan kapag gabi.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Tapos puro branded pa. Paborito niyang brand yung…
yung folded and twang,</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Folded and hung.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Ang brand na galit ata sa mga <i>big-boned</i> at <i>obese</i> dahil
daig pa ang <i>baby Guess </i>at <i>Osh Kosh Bigosh </i>sa
fit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Oo yun! saka… saka yung people is people.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Hindi
na lang ako kumibo. Basta ang alam ko magaling si Jake sa Math.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>At meron pa minsan nakita ko tshirt niya, Kamiseta.
Di ba brand pambabae yun?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Baka naman metrosexual lang si Mark. Magkaiba ang
pagiging fashionable sa pagiging bakla no.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Sabihin mo metrosexual, isang metro na lang
homosexual na. </i><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Oo na, daig ko pa ang supot sa pagiging transparent
at halata sa itsura ni Jake na hindi siya kumbinsido sa mga sinabi ko. Naisip
ko tuloy, papaano ko na lang sasabihin sa kanya ang totoo?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Yun nga din ang naisip ko. Pero ito, pare, madalas
kapag gabi, tuwing pinipick up ko yung extension ng telepono sa taas. Nahuhuli
ko siyang laging may kausap na lalake.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Lalo akong kinabahan. Mukhang aagawin pa ata ni
Mark ang moment ko. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Baka naman best friend niya.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>E, Babae ang best friend niya.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Oo nga pala si Shiela.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Akala ko nga girlfriend niya yun dati. Hindi pala.
Ang weird pa nun, babae ang best friend niya. Hindi ka ba nagtataka? Madalang
na may pinakikila si kuya na lalaking kaibigan pwera na lang sa mga teammates
niya noon.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Bigla kong naisip ang basket ball team ni Mark.
Kung sineryoso ko lang sana ang basketball noong tinuturuan kami ng tatay nila,
e di sana <i>may I join the varsity </i>na din ako ngayon. Aba, libre
kaya ang tuition fee ng mga varsity sa amin. May libreng tanghalian pa. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Hindi naman basehan yun.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Kunsabagay. Pero yun nga lang din, pare. Iniisip ko
paano na lang kung magladlad si Kuya? Kanino na ako manghihiram ng damit kapag
naka bestida't make up na siya? Sino na ang magiging kalaro ko ng basketball
kapag lumamya na kilos niya? Imagine, ang rookie of the year at MVP ng school
ay isa palang manash?!</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq8szzd2PMVtQyDa0EH8SVJjtzAXLhkRUel4RwLUenVjOKZ97e8vvM1CNiCN1pE_t8oRvW0b5YM_tYC4bJmv2O7cUTlYAz-0OaCVJEJiMagAuF-0GHN8ELtWrSpjmIeVv4d9JdsBnqr_WI/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq8szzd2PMVtQyDa0EH8SVJjtzAXLhkRUel4RwLUenVjOKZ97e8vvM1CNiCN1pE_t8oRvW0b5YM_tYC4bJmv2O7cUTlYAz-0OaCVJEJiMagAuF-0GHN8ELtWrSpjmIeVv4d9JdsBnqr_WI/s320/4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
My God! 1990s pa ng huling narining ko ang salitang <i>Manash.</i> Naawa
ako bigla kay Jake. Naturingan na best friend ko siya <i>but he is so out
dated with the latest lingo</i>. Pero may I shift ang topic ng bigla kong
napansin ang takot sa mga mata ni Jake. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Ang kaparehong takot na nakita ko sa mga mata ni
mama noong hinatid nila ako sa bus terminal patungong Baguio, noong gabing
nakipaghiwalay sa akin ang una kong girlfriend at noong inamin ko sa mga <span style="color: #222222; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-PH; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">kabahay</span> ko ang tunay kong pagkatao.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Bakit lahat ba ng lalaki tubero o karpentero? Lahat
ba ng babae housewife? At kung magkaganunman, ano naman ang masama dun?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Tahimik na napatingin lang sa malayo si Jake. Doon
ko na na<i>figure out</i>, na ito na nga ata ang tinatawag nilang <i>drama.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Naalala mo si Sir Arceo, yung paborito nating
teacher sa Chemistry. Di ba inamin niya sa atin noong graduation na bakla siya.
Tingin mo ba malalaman nating bakla siya kundi niya sinabi? At wala namang
nagbago. Siya pa rin ang paborito nating teacher nun, ‘di ba?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Hindi pa din umimik si Jake. Na-isnab ang ganda ng
Lola Arceo ko. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>E, si tito Mike, yung engineer na kasama nila papa
sa firm. Si Dr. Uy yung doctor ng papa mo noon. Di ba bakla din---.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i> </i>Natigil
ang eksenadorang speech ko nang nakita kong nakatingin na lang sa akin si Jake.
Mas intense na ang mga mata niya. Mas deep, dark and mapang-usig. Yeeeess! <i>mapang-usig</i>.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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Pamilyar ang mga titig na yun. Kung hindi lang <i>Jolina
Magdangal</i> sabihin parang natutunaw ako sa mga titig niya, siguro
bumigay na ako. But don’t get me wrong, tama na ang isang <i>press release for
the day. </i>Dahil sa ngayon, mas kailangan ako ng kaibigan ko.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Madaling sabihin yan kapag ibang tao, Rod, pero ibang
kaso na kapag malapit sa iyo ang pinag-uusapan.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Jake, ang gusto ko lang naman sabihin, hindi
lahat ng bakla parlorista. At hindi din naman masama maging parlorista. Ang
mahalaga wala kang inaapakang iba. Respeto lang yan para irespeto din tayo.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Maya-maya’y nakaramdam ako ng bahagyang pagkailang
ng unti-unti linapit ni Jake ang mukha niya. <i>In that distance</i>,
halos mabilang ko na ang hibla ng kanyang makapal na pilik mata, ang mga linya
sa kanyang mapulang labi at maging ang biglang pagbago ng ekspresyon ng kanyang
malamlam na mata. Then I realized, na gusto ko na lang tumambling sa pagiging
matalinghaga ko.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Nakkkksss, ang lalim.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Sira! </i>Sabay kotong sa kanyang bumbunan.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Arayyy… Actually, pare. Okay lang naman kung bakla
si kuya. Walang kaso dun, promise! Ang ayoko lang e yung pagtatawanan o
gagaguhin siya ng ibang tao dahil bakla siya.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Napatahimik ako sa sinabi ni Jake. Bigla ko’ng
naisip ang mga kapatid ko. Ganun din kaya sila sa akin?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Mahal ko si kuya at alam mo kung ano ang
pinagdaanan niya nung mamatay si papa. Kaya nga kung tatanungin ako kung
sinong tao ang pinaka deserving lumigaya, para sa akin, si kuya yun. Ayoko
siyang makitang malungkot o umiiyak. Ayoko siyang kinukutya o
pinagsasamantalahan. Makakapatay ako, pare. Pero ang mas kinakatakot ko ay ayoko
din makitang tumanda siyang malungkot at nag-iisa.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i>Alam mo, Jake. May nagsabi sa akin dati, na ang
pag-iisa ay hindi kapalaran ninuman. Ang kapalaran natin ay produkto ng sarili nating
mga desisyon at ginawa sa buhay. At sa tingin ko sa lahat ng mga ginagawa ng kuya
mo ngayon, hindi siya kailanman tatanda mag-isa. Dahil kung sakali man na wala siyang
makikitang mapapangasawa o makakasama sa buhay, </i><i>nandiyan ka, mga kaibigan niya at ang pamilya niyo
para samahan siya.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Biglang may tumulong luha sa pisngi ni Jake. Ang
totoo nagulat<i> </i>talaga ako nang makita ko siyang tuloy-tuloy nang umiyak.
Yun ang unang beses na nakita ko siyang nagkaganun. Kinuha ko agad ang panyo ko
sa bulsa at inabot sa kanya, habang pinagdadasal na hindi niya mapansing <i>hindi R</i> ang initial na nakaburda doon. <i>I
know, </i>minsan my pagka-<i>old school</i> din ako.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Seryoso, tol. Siguro kung naririnig ka ng kuya mo
ngayon, for sure sobrang proud yun sa iyo. Maswerte siya dahil kapatid ka niya.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Ulul! Mas maswerte ka dahil kaibigan mo ako at ikaw
lang ang nakakakitang umiiyak ako. Halika nga dito.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Biglang inabot ni Jake ang kanyang braso sa akin.
Yes, may ilangan factor noong una, pero inakap ko na din. Doon ko napagtantong,
tumatanda na nga talaga kami. Marahil dahil sa tagal naming magkaibigan, virgin
pa kami sa yakap ng isa’t isa. Pero ang
totoo<i>,</i> natuwa ako at naiiyak na din. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Pare, Salamat! Sana dito ka na lang nag-aral para may
nakakausap ako ng ganito. Hindi mo alam kung gaano ko katagal tinago ito. Gago
ka! Ikaw lang pala ang makapaglalabas nito. </i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Tumuloy-tuloy na ang pag-iyak ko nang narinig ko yun. Marahil namiss ko
lang talaga ng husto si Jake. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JHJWILa7MgjqbrzfU243DS3IPnS8jCt114iivQdAsCr-8FDF9PT-lQ2qXiXzkhIFg3W2fRyEVGmhqF9Z5a1knj87LhFCptTUovjX92rltiXunSHfQNj30Dl23KckU5Z2BPevuuvj_Jhk/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JHJWILa7MgjqbrzfU243DS3IPnS8jCt114iivQdAsCr-8FDF9PT-lQ2qXiXzkhIFg3W2fRyEVGmhqF9Z5a1knj87LhFCptTUovjX92rltiXunSHfQNj30Dl23KckU5Z2BPevuuvj_Jhk/s320/5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Dahil din dun, mas lalo kong naramdaman ang importansiya
namin sa isa’t isa. Malungkot isipin na hindi na kami tulad ng dati, wala na
yung mga batang paglalaro lang ang iniisip, kung ano ang uso at kung saan
village dadayo. Pero kung ako ang
tatanungin, mas masaya ako sa ganito dahil napag-uusapan namin ang mga bagay na
di naming kayang sabihin noon. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i> Malapit na, tol.
Malapit na, </i>bulong ko kay Jake habang yakap
ko siya, <i>at huwag kang mag-alala, dahil di ko kayang lokohin si Mark dahil
mahal na mahal ko siya.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Hindi ko alam ang magiging reaksyon ni Jake pero sa wakas, nasabi ko na din
ang gusto kong sabihin. Subalit imbes bumitaw, naramdaman ko ang lalong paghigpit
ng yakap niya sa akin sabay sabing,<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i>Salamat ulit, pare.</i> <span style="font-size: x-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-87928941481302778472013-05-23T14:11:00.001+10:002013-05-23T18:01:41.670+10:00ten interesting things that makes me smile<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">how you would try
stopping yourself from stopping me in experimenting or putting too much in
everything i cook</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">how you would always
discreetly watch, wait and catch me as i slowly sneak in my bed after a heavy
meal then nag me the entire day<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5MlR9GcZwmGwoa56N2x1Pi9nTudOetr_mrouMwZ2ju4HsNvZs8AJSiQjtkZ36iNqOeKppFkA8J61-Qb02AdvuB_XpXg4QoJ-6xDNSEZzDHedfKqxWj-r0ei0yJSmzJDIkYAt4NUkiNPV/s1600/5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5MlR9GcZwmGwoa56N2x1Pi9nTudOetr_mrouMwZ2ju4HsNvZs8AJSiQjtkZ36iNqOeKppFkA8J61-Qb02AdvuB_XpXg4QoJ-6xDNSEZzDHedfKqxWj-r0ei0yJSmzJDIkYAt4NUkiNPV/s320/5.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">how you will wait for
me the whole day and surprise me with a festive dinner (but also makes me sad
because you are such a great cook!)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9vq0NayvknFZxwSs8vrQr-N5-4eTA5XcexC1MjphTE6kEu4B0Y9CGOJ3pIXPCopDtnfRYmERz-k4eUnGLYlnJ6SVtS9wji0M3EnXhSNw5R3z4KTfdV9NrysBa9FYUPFlg26xmIcsxCx96/s1600/3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9vq0NayvknFZxwSs8vrQr-N5-4eTA5XcexC1MjphTE6kEu4B0Y9CGOJ3pIXPCopDtnfRYmERz-k4eUnGLYlnJ6SVtS9wji0M3EnXhSNw5R3z4KTfdV9NrysBa9FYUPFlg26xmIcsxCx96/s320/3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">how you would always
move away and just wait outside a grocery store just because you are too embarrass to buy "that"</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9LqgbQ0tsPLaz0iixOjJWkGKpwEt1yVw_MWMEtd9DT2ravyhL-Rsa7HSSlkkaLSpfpLy2Or-Yr9Pm0horuiSxf6TI11Mcioc_28OI7v7wBFld0n2SHrgxed8VDkfj4QqhlAmmLrEIevjD/s1600/2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9LqgbQ0tsPLaz0iixOjJWkGKpwEt1yVw_MWMEtd9DT2ravyhL-Rsa7HSSlkkaLSpfpLy2Or-Yr9Pm0horuiSxf6TI11Mcioc_28OI7v7wBFld0n2SHrgxed8VDkfj4QqhlAmmLrEIevjD/s320/2.JPG" width="288" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">how you would look at
me while i am sleeping; completely having no idea that i am actually staring back at you</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">how you would be
masungit when i am sweet and sweet when i am masungit: and realizing that being
on the same state makes us a disaster to each other</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">how you could be as
paranoid as i am about possibly overdoing so many things about us<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">how you would stop me
from locking the door whenever i use the bathroom <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">how you will giggle
whenever you recall the etymology of “kums” and “wabs”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">and lastly, how you will probably
smile after reading this <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">*** </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">thank you for staying and showing the strength in what others had given up to</span></div>
wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-80383500639498752372013-03-25T19:23:00.000+11:002013-03-25T19:38:52.676+11:00confession of a swinger<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik-6Jd6rvVmuRIMq58r8LlzBna27vFYAQU53S5ZdoBXz_vNfzIy8qU4pyZ5o7fp8bdWuxLNff8QV5VKtJ302-J61jpnbDf1RaqgWWC3bq0voDgw4v5AigLEaCwZg8TP1jyzjf3Oghabzy5/s1600/1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik-6Jd6rvVmuRIMq58r8LlzBna27vFYAQU53S5ZdoBXz_vNfzIy8qU4pyZ5o7fp8bdWuxLNff8QV5VKtJ302-J61jpnbDf1RaqgWWC3bq0voDgw4v5AigLEaCwZg8TP1jyzjf3Oghabzy5/s320/1.JPG" width="237" /></a>almost every night, i walk from my office to rada st. for some evening work out. and for the past seven months, i could actually say that this evening routine have given me the chance of having my "me-time" again after each day's work. it reciprocated the 2-hour bus rides i used to take from makati to quezon city before (although i still prefer the latter).<br />
<br />
each night's conversation made me realize a lot have actually changed from the last time i have posted something on this blog or from the last time i have ranted regarding my past life.<br />
<br />
i would usually catch myself chuckling as i recall how petty my issues and concerns were. i have goosebumps whenever i ask myself why i went gaga over this person? or how i came up with that stunt of running fire exit stairs from ground to the fifth floor just to prove to the company physician that i have an abnormal heart so that they can allow me to resign.<br />
<br />
but who doesn't have those moments, right?<br />
<br />
haay. i miss being this.<br />
<br />
i guess, the bulk of me missing a lot of things and people is because of these "me-time" walks. i eventually see the "missing part" as a confirmation that a lot have changed. and for someone like me, who used to breathe for spontaneity and adventure, this is the worst part of growing up: developing "that" sense of settling down and complying with the norm of being mature.<br />
<br />
currently, i've been extremely busy with work. i am meeting a lot of people but most of them are twice and even thrice my age. i've been juggling several job tasks from business development, marketing, HR, and operations; handling three teams with highly distinct functions. though i am not complaining, in fact, i am enjoying it because it challenges me.<br />
<br />
but unfortunately, the pressure at work took a toll in my personality. people started noticing that i easily get irritated with simple things, mood swings attacks, and became harsher with my words .<br />
<br />
like, i remember having this rare vacation with my family in bicol last year, which ended up, me shouting and even questioning my dad as a parent. and yes, that is in front of him and my entire folks. the reason: he cannot bring me to the nearest airport the following dawn (which was around two hours away from our town).<br />
<br />
after our fight, i packed my things and left. my parents then followed and tried convincing me there were no longer any bus trips around that time. they were literally negotiating with me in the middle of the highway. but i was just silent. i remained silent. but inside, i was so pissed that i wanted to prove to them that i can leave, that i am used with travelling late and in remote areas, and they are wrong and i do not need them.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6VLNGlKgZCbiHPhP6Cj6f7irCTxpTR1IxQ29OegcY8uMR07BHIIVBFG2omfEehB2eGcExaeJY7T4qqyKlkS_CmuvGgR7K_C2F6ov8AC9oYFEw1Vx_JXazVP8Wr3rld5NxV2h7Faj4ymPe/s1600/2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6VLNGlKgZCbiHPhP6Cj6f7irCTxpTR1IxQ29OegcY8uMR07BHIIVBFG2omfEehB2eGcExaeJY7T4qqyKlkS_CmuvGgR7K_C2F6ov8AC9oYFEw1Vx_JXazVP8Wr3rld5NxV2h7Faj4ymPe/s320/2.JPG" width="320" /></a>true enough, after an hour, i was able to catch a bus going to manila. i can clearly recall, climbing those steps without looking nor saying goodbye to them. i took the last empty seat at the back. and when i finally realized i was alone, instead of congratulating myself for proving to my parents i was right, i cried.<br />
<br />
it was the most horrible feeling. i was struggling to hold my sobs because there were passengers inside already sleeping but at the same time i was trying to pull out something very heavy inside my chest because i cannot breathe.<br />
<br />
fifteen minutes after, i received a text message from my dad, apologizing for whatever reason that offended me. it was just then that he explained (which i did not gave him the chance to), that he was just not feeling well that night. from there, i started asking myself,<br />
<br />
why did i not ask first?<br />
<br />
what went inside me that i suddenly bursted?<br />
<br />
and where did the melt down come from?<br />
<br />
it took us 8 months, before my dad and i started talking again but we never discuss that incident anymore.<br />
<br />
two months ago, i received a call from my mom, asking me to help my younger sister regarding some of her finances in college. bothered, i asked my mom, why my sister have to recourse it to her, instead of her talking to me directly?<br />
<br />
my mom told me that my younger sister is just scared from me. she is scared that she might say something wrong that will give me the reason to shout at her and eventually reject her requests.<br />
<br />
i told my mom that i do not have a temper. but she was able to convince me by admitted that all of my siblings are actually scared of me.<br />
<br />
i was shocked.<br />
<br />
i was never close with my siblings. in fact, i am the only one not living with them here in manila. but i would always cherish those times when we only have each other as friends and playmates.<br />
<br />
but remembering it now, made me realize how in denial i was back then. suddenly, images of my sisters and brother started popping up while i am writing this post. all of them are crying. crying because of something i said or did. <br />
<br />
yes, i am starting to realize, i am a bad son and a brother.<br />
<br />
so the other night, i seek confirmation from some of my closest friends about it and all they just gave me was a big nod. they would recall some incidents where my decisions and behavior will just instantaneously swing. how out of nowhere, they would see me very numb, apathetic and harsh about almost everything. but what really makes them annoyed was how my observations and good intentions are "sometimes freakingly" mixed up and misunderstood because of me being harsh and tactless. for them, its always the worst combination. so they would just remain silent, which would make me more pissed off.<br />
<br />
after that night, i finally realized and accepted the problem that i am facing.<br />
<br />
my theory: i may be experiencing a case of bipolarism.<br />
<br />
to be honest, i can't help myself from laughing with the idea of having it while you know a lot of people out there claiming they are too. its as if its something cool or somekind of a "unique psychological condition" so that they could justify their harsh and whimsical actions. okay, thats me being tactless again - sorry.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinoPEBc2yQsZ0lz5raiIqvNydxOigncZovY0T819u6tS6IljBelIVpAWxUmLZMeFucJWV2OzE0d6_VMWIC79W4S_a4A8q2ppZRMolxFGRqY_369Uq68OtAnIBdSeH2-1aP99ivZhhdmDEs/s1600/3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinoPEBc2yQsZ0lz5raiIqvNydxOigncZovY0T819u6tS6IljBelIVpAWxUmLZMeFucJWV2OzE0d6_VMWIC79W4S_a4A8q2ppZRMolxFGRqY_369Uq68OtAnIBdSeH2-1aP99ivZhhdmDEs/s320/3.JPG" width="320" /></a>but i guess, you'll never realize its true meaning unless you started realizing its impacts; that you are consecutively hurting people you love and care about.<br />
<br />
it is the worst feeling. seeing significant people wanted to move far away from you <i><b>but they can't; simply because you also mean a lot for them</b></i>.<br />
<br />
it also pains me that as much as i want to recognize it, i just can't help it. its terrible that sometimes i started doubting even myself and my capabilities. thus, i end up either just letting the people i care about <i><b>go</b></i> or its me who move far away from them so that i could not hurt them anymore. <br />
<br />
this is the type of burden that i usually hid behind my tactlessness. but there are times, you just can't simply bear it.<br />
<br />
scared of being discriminated, i tried talking about it to someone. a stranger, who i do not know personally. but in a way, can relate to my issue since he also cares for someone who has the same.<br />
<br />
he confessed it was a struggle at first, and actually until now, that he needed to overcome it because he loves the person. and he knows that the person also loves him back. there were so many things he had done; things he (and even i) never thought he (or i) could do for someone he loves. <br />
<br />
"how did you manage?" i asked "you must have the most incredible sense of patience."<br />
<br />
"actually, you just simply understand because <i><b>it's not his fault if his neurotransmitters are acting up?</b></i>" he answered.<br />
<br />
it was a simple, no running around the bush and highly sophisticated explanation.<br />
<br />
"wow. how did you know this? are you a psychologist?"<br />
<br />
"no, just a programmer who happened to be in love with someone who is bipolar."<br />
<br />
i was smiling but at the same time speechless.<br />
<br />
kudos to this stranger, who is also celebrating their 19th monthsary today. hihihi.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
to be honest, it is not easy writing this entry. well i guess, for everyone, confessing something very personal will never be easy. probably because by doing so, you are exposing a part of your humanity or weaknesses, wherein people may judge, prejudice and discriminate you.<br />
<br />
but after everything that happened, i want to look at this differently. i want to reveal it not for other people to understand me as an individual, rather recognize this as a condition that may strike anyone.<br />
<br />
hopefully, by next week, after vacation, i'll be able to meet someone that was recommended by a colleague. A professional, who her friend has been seeing before, regarding the same condition. Also, i am hoping i could drop by van gogh is bipolar again, for some tip in mood diet therapy. but if theres one good thing that i came about from this condition is that i have a good reason to eat more steamed broccoli, as advised by that stranger.<br />
<br />
for those, who have personally experience my meltdowns and swings, i am sorry.<br />
<br />
for those who have stayed and still enduring me, thank you.<br />
<br />
i promise to start writing blog entries again, even though many believe its dying because of twitter.<br />
<br />
i also promise, i will be back. hopefully, this time... better.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-55910935891630417672012-11-15T14:08:00.002+11:002012-11-15T14:13:42.804+11:00discreet and fear <br />
"hindi ako takot, discreet lang ( I am not scared. I am just discreet)"<br />
<br />
way back, i always believed that the reason why some gay guys chose to be discreet is because they are simply scared. they behave and act based from what is expected or to simply put it to blend in, which is probably the most effective means to protect one self.<br />
<br />
but would it be possible for someone to be discreet without being scared?<br />
<br />
perhaps, i am one of those fortunate enough to have walk this route of life and met people not everyone has the chance to: or perhaps they have, but failed or refused to recognized them.<br />
<br />
many would argue that life is simply composed of bilinear concepts. two fundamental elements that compose life: good and bad, black and white, man and woman. several years ago, the introduction of a wide spectrum brought about the introduction of several colors, which in turned caused massive arguments, even until now.<br />
<br />
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but what makes it surprising is how an emerging concept sprout even in between these struggling spectrum. its as if it is continuously giving birth; as long as there is someone who will contemplate about it. many societies have discovered various preferences from gay to transvestite, transgender, bisexual, asexual to straight-acting, tripper, top, bottom, versatile, effem, butch, fairies and it seems like the classifications are endless. its interesting how from labels it transgress to preferences. how it creates political mistakes, modern sensitivities and even quasi-confusions bring about argument, debates with the end goal of introducing newer perspectives. its interesting how life will no longer be limited to just two, three, seven nor any definite number that it has finally reach a range wherein it will eventually becomes endless as long as people will continue to contemplate and understand or even there mere denial.<br />
<br />
hence, many would argue that you do not need to cross dress nor to be flamboyant to say you are gay, which could probably be the same as saying: you can be discreet without being scared.<br />
<br />
however, the mere claim of being "discreet" connotes several meanings. by definition, to be discreet is to be hidden. regardless, of reasons, the mere recognition of being one would mean that s/he is uncomfortable of revealing something. but i guess, this would not necessary say that someone is already scared. or probably i am just contemplating on the statement too much, which was simply uttered out of the loss of a better term.<br />
<br />
<i>or am i?</i>wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-84501907424150341562012-11-13T22:14:00.002+11:002012-11-15T14:13:10.431+11:00two years<br />
<i>why stay in a relationship if you know its bound to end?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>how long have they been together?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>two years.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>makes sense. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>what do you mean?</i><br />
<br />
it seemed like two years have started to be a dreaded figure for some of my committed friends. it is like the new dropping curve for every relationship. and honestly, it is also beginning to alarm most people we know.<br />
<br />
initially, images of friends with their partners, in their own ways, have striven to bring light among dying hopes and pessimism to most of us. beyond any chemistry and silent mushiness, it is already a delight just to have a mental picture of them. and even if we refuse to admit it, we have those little images, hiding underneath our cold pillows, which we go back to before we set sail for another dream each night.<br />
<br />
then it becomes everyone's dream to be in a somehow similar situation. who wouldn't? they understand the same means on how to overcome insecurities, trust and even infidelity issues. they know how to maintain a good and never ending conversations and they can even see and understand beyond each other's imperfections. <br />
<br />
how over the years they have stayed away from the complexities of these kinds of relationships that rot, probably the strongest foundations and just simply enjoyed it.<br />
<br />
<i>but its not easy, ewik. it takes a lot of maturity to own this</i>, i remember one of them telling me this.<br />
<br />
and then when we thought it was just about it, no one expected the worst thing coming: <i><b>falling out of love.</b></i><br />
<br />
<i>i think they need to talk to clarify things. thats the problem when people act based from their assumptions. if they have already been together for that long, how difficult could it be to ask?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>you know, even if my friend learned that his partner is not actually cheating, i guess it is already too late. he already cheated and started falling out of it. </i><br />
<br />
there was just so many things going on on this story. the guy is cheating because he feels that his partner does. he is cheating because he feels the abrupt and unexplainable coldness. or perhaps he is cheating because he is falling out of their relationship.<br />
<br />
there will probably be a hundred more reasons, depending on whose perspective you will look at it. but at the end, i guess it will still be the same sad picture because no one was brave enough to know and ask why.<br />
<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/gq-YxBRUCGA?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>i never did find out where we were that day. </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>He only said days with me were boring...</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>That we should end it... </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>One day we might start over. </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>For him "starting over" has many meanings.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>- Lai Yiu-fai, Happy Together (1997)</i></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i>so why do they still stay?</i><br />
<br />
hope, regardless if its true, false or however you may define it, is simply the safest way to respond to uncertainties; with the least possible consequence of getting hurt. we hope not because we want the truth. in fact, we hope because we acknowledge the truth but too scared of what it may bring to us.<br />
<br />
we stay because we hope. we hope because we fear of what will happen for each step we take. for some, they hope and stay because they are waiting; waiting for that certainty that will draw them out from that empty silence.<br />
<br />
some call it rebound, some say it is being selfish. but i guess thats just how life direct each one of us from avoiding hurt and finding their individual happiness.<br />
<br />
besides, happiness could probably be the most synonymous word to being relative.<br />
<br />
in an economic perspective though, some may treat a relationship as an investment. and the denial of acknowledging loss makes many people to stay and eventually hope for the promise of regaining it back. but can we actually bind such by figures, indexes and value? or by trend, demand and<br />
<br />
i guess, at the end of the day, there is no better way of dealing it than completely embracing truth or probably, by bravely addressing it to the other party at the beginning rather than keeping it to oneself and just hope when it is already late.<b> <i>too</i> late.</b><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-32825742238534202562012-09-11T23:58:00.003+10:002012-09-12T00:06:45.687+10:00ang ikaklit sa aming hardinhow to have a relatively gender sensitive society?<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
start with the children. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
give and read to your brother, sister, son, daughter, nephew, niece, and/or friend the story of "IKAKLIT," the story of a family.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
book launching: ikaklit sa aming hardin </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5rjE9gtlHH37PXq6Foa7wIt3VKNDoJJHcjXMP5Uy4RrUwRHr7q1uFofWiLjw_NX6QCn1NfovyrN5Ah02AZNQhDOHdRE0drcvr1a5lxipgsmfSExZU4TzUupUWjAHEK3IxxyMZ6fhLQYPk/s1600/550930_4176782266716_45485906_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5rjE9gtlHH37PXq6Foa7wIt3VKNDoJJHcjXMP5Uy4RrUwRHr7q1uFofWiLjw_NX6QCn1NfovyrN5Ah02AZNQhDOHdRE0drcvr1a5lxipgsmfSExZU4TzUupUWjAHEK3IxxyMZ6fhLQYPk/s320/550930_4176782266716_45485906_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
story by bernadette v. neri and illustration by cj de silva</div>
<div>
september 13, 2012</div>
<div>
3:00 - 5:00 pm</div>
<div>
cm recto hall, college of arts and letters,</div>
<div>
up diliman, quezon city</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
or </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
for signed copies, please email me at wanderingcommuter@live.com</div>
wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-44517099171766417462012-06-06T10:49:00.001+10:002012-06-06T11:17:11.756+10:00a realist take on hope<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-PH;">They say hope is important to keep one going. It keeps him centered and focused
with a certain aspiration of eventually achieve something; despite the sheer absence
of its possibilities and/or presence of obstacles and challenges. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-PH;">Hope fuels persuasion and hard work but at the same time it can also prolong
agonies and sorrows. Hence, it makes one wonder, where do you draw that line
between still hoping and finally surrendering and move on? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-PH;">Most of the
time, what makes moving on difficult is no longer the feelings you have or had
with the person rather it is more into one’s confrontation with change. Our attachments
with patterns and routines have chained us within the comfort zone that we have
built together with that person. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-PH;">Bottomline: we
are just scared of what is ahead--- alone; that for the first time again, we are
subject to this fear of starting over and going back to square one. And regreting everything we had invested, gained and practically, enjoyed. At the end,
it makes us restless realizing that the feeling is a concoction of both that
nagging fear and concentrated frustration that chain us from something we kept
refusing to admit as over. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-PH;">Sometimes, concern
to that person is no longer brought about by what many ‘believed’ to be
affection, but more of an unconscious effort of one’s sense of self-preservation
to justify hope and simply avoid change. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf5Q6dPVGz7CJY7rsU3Sne-XjysKwJXGKuTQGSRQRNJY_X6FTvTJPa0UPVMQ8v1AWNROY9ZajeRpFfhR5FZkZoXTHtn17OKPiFuAsdvDnD8vvhRx8LzX4B3pOTboBBhsl7nN0sUxDhk72B/s1600/5397266870_c4b7e93bfa_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf5Q6dPVGz7CJY7rsU3Sne-XjysKwJXGKuTQGSRQRNJY_X6FTvTJPa0UPVMQ8v1AWNROY9ZajeRpFfhR5FZkZoXTHtn17OKPiFuAsdvDnD8vvhRx8LzX4B3pOTboBBhsl7nN0sUxDhk72B/s320/5397266870_c4b7e93bfa_z.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-PH;">But before
people start identifying me more of a pessimist rather than a realist, I guess,
my point being is one needs to realize that
its no longer hope if it hurts, that it is no longer hope if the mutual journey
"now," is vaguer than its initial destination. People should know when to know if
the hope for that relationship is already exhausted and when the building of another
hope timely begins. <o:p></o:p></span></div>wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-23083919883897176892012-05-08T20:40:00.001+10:002012-05-08T20:42:16.552+10:00why i chose to draw with pens<br />
on a supposed to be busy monday, i saw myself just staring blankly at my desk. i hear my phone endlessly ringing, people chattering, and my email profusely alarming.<br />
<br />
its a bit odd for someone as visual as me to actually notice these. so i tried plunging on the difference. i put my headset and played a cynthia alexander album on.<br />
<br />
comfort in your strangeness. perfect!<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
i randomly reached a pen and started scribbling. funny how the lines and strokes fell on their places. how it decides its own length, how it figure out where to curve and how it weaved itself with the rest of the other lines.<br />
<br />
eventually, the randomness turned its back from absence.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
who can tell if they were really supposed to be there? who can say if they should be thin or thick? black or of a different color? or if its good or bad.<br />
<br />
"why don't you use a pencil?" a friend wondered while he was staring at how i drew one boring afternoon.<br />
<br />
"i guess, i am just more comfortable using pens," i answered.<br />
<br />
"e, what if you made a mistake?"<br />
<br />
"then i own it."<br />
<br />
he startled.<br />
<br />
"you take the mistake and make something out of it, that is the beauty of being imperfect. you just have to be brave enough not to hesitate because the moment you do, you will never know what is up ahead. and i guess, in this life, regret is the only thing worst than being selfish."<br />
<br />
***<br />
and for that, thank <i><b>you</b></i> for making me draw again.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJzCLTBHvQmcRFVcJOSE0t4YidaURByW96FpFjQnOOtlPC0sbsiOm08DT0m4rtJN7gK9EQkWgWT5sWF0n1D7C7YwhPV_35MydeUn4QL9Orhp0w6OIL2WmyE-x6WPq9W2sdRRrlGNAvuk1/s1600/art.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJzCLTBHvQmcRFVcJOSE0t4YidaURByW96FpFjQnOOtlPC0sbsiOm08DT0m4rtJN7gK9EQkWgWT5sWF0n1D7C7YwhPV_35MydeUn4QL9Orhp0w6OIL2WmyE-x6WPq9W2sdRRrlGNAvuk1/s320/art.jpg" width="272" /></a></div>
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<br />wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-39685734302017420022012-03-19T18:00:00.027+11:002012-03-19T19:48:56.986+11:00compilations: 15 gloomiest entries<div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: left; "><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Georgia, serif; ">15. </span><a href="http://wanderingcommuter.blogspot.com/2008/11/on-thinking-and-moving.html" style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Georgia, serif; ">on thinking and moving</a><span style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Georgia, serif; "> (please click the title for the actual post)</span> </div><div><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"></div></div><div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYJb0tMctWSdj4vfZ8-3oB3szfQeqmzkE0_X_osijXgAFPHL5cosZRJ-CVPuGDOjjeg1iuCbJmzUbK4icbMCaswgCE004qySDEsl4lNJ5VIIYEWW-T9S34cXsPQRpT9GyEhGN0VYF71yMu/s320/1_900756854l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721512486639157698" /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center; "><span >solitary, color pen and paper</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center; "><span >02/08/08</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>the face that i wore for each day i struggled to see you--- i never lose myself to desperation.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>14. <a href="http://wanderingcommuter.blogspot.com/2007/06/saan-nagwawakas-ang-mga-tula.html">saan nagwawakas ang mga tula?</a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2zk3Isgh4sbau8mGocN8R9fU77s4Zy9aErPPA3GF9w8ZxgZRaUcfxe8My6YjziTajqgvphkyiFhopciZg5OLp-fctq5O02Wt7KBBynjNUa07P3VbixCN1X_pLKVH2NlaSyvya0ZiIL0L4/s1600/DSC00029.JPG" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: left; font-size: medium; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2zk3Isgh4sbau8mGocN8R9fU77s4Zy9aErPPA3GF9w8ZxgZRaUcfxe8My6YjziTajqgvphkyiFhopciZg5OLp-fctq5O02Wt7KBBynjNUa07P3VbixCN1X_pLKVH2NlaSyvya0ZiIL0L4/s320/DSC00029.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721524986735624050" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: left; "><div style="text-align: center; "><span >"freedom"</span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span >ink & paper</span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span >012308</span></div></div></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto; "><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>sa alaala,</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>doon ka nagsimula </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>isang buwan, isang linggo</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>at tatlong araw</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>ang gunita mo'y patuloy na umaalingangaw</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>13. <a href="http://wanderingcommuter.blogspot.com/2010/07/randomness.html">randomness</a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqC3i7mb0g4ryplLqJ1k7IL5oRDxm_5FhcYFPf0JwU90-bSn2kG3otk4um6ywQEysGk_uxcOzK7AwSl8OcP1aRta5i6uW_wlJCZ97dPnMBAvrk5H2WfbhTsaY6UoEMX1opHsYGMdsGa70Z/s1600/27814600648698l.jpg" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqC3i7mb0g4ryplLqJ1k7IL5oRDxm_5FhcYFPf0JwU90-bSn2kG3otk4um6ywQEysGk_uxcOzK7AwSl8OcP1aRta5i6uW_wlJCZ97dPnMBAvrk5H2WfbhTsaY6UoEMX1opHsYGMdsGa70Z/s320/27814600648698l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721513519005070274" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 202px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; "><span ><div>"in the eyes of a stalker"</div><div>ms paint</div><div>12/18/2006</div></span></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>moving on is not a matter of forgetting, rather its the process of coming up with simple acceptance and empty memories.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>12. <a href="http://wanderingcommuter.blogspot.com/2011/04/black-saturday.html">black saturday</a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxrH2jNATtFtS6_seeJYOxomUtKHoW2qYGROIJNb80E-39HDk2pc8w1o9uBkS65Vusjb4NVmL8Y8LdD_AiFkZR55aKoBP603LSJvOUGHbcVqe90DM3xsoypbg5FpxHx4jkVtsF_gr3TqqL/s1600/DSC00259.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxrH2jNATtFtS6_seeJYOxomUtKHoW2qYGROIJNb80E-39HDk2pc8w1o9uBkS65Vusjb4NVmL8Y8LdD_AiFkZR55aKoBP603LSJvOUGHbcVqe90DM3xsoypbg5FpxHx4jkVtsF_gr3TqqL/s320/DSC00259.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721515028182603266" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><div style="text-align: center; "><span ><i><div>caution</div><div>ink and paper</div><div>september 2009</div></i></span></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>they talked a lot of things along the way, probably the lengthiest conversation they had for the day. they talked about work, family, taking responsibilities and materializing dreams. for a moment, K felt that they are no longer kids anymore. but what made him moved was the fact that they never really talked about the past, their experiences before, or what was between them--- exactly a decade ago, on one of those humid summer nights, when their raging confusions rushed and engulfed them.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>if K can only wish life to be seen in both perspectives just like in the movies.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>K bet it will make living a little less complicated.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>if only...</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>11. <a href="http://wanderingcommuter.blogspot.com/2008/03/deeper-mark.html">deeper mark</a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6CePrzQd05owb8yqz4QnTujRYMTT0yH4faUXQ4VgrD045MVSvzSVw5L903RxStMqXVQe9Wrz9_Zw2Fl6SEP0Ez_zInxiN0RVfQCY-03VoMujxK0Akq7hXsmEtrjcTGBHn2XSazlgGT9GW/s1600/DSC00260.JPG" style="font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6CePrzQd05owb8yqz4QnTujRYMTT0yH4faUXQ4VgrD045MVSvzSVw5L903RxStMqXVQe9Wrz9_Zw2Fl6SEP0Ez_zInxiN0RVfQCY-03VoMujxK0Akq7hXsmEtrjcTGBHn2XSazlgGT9GW/s320/DSC00260.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721515303301964706" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; "><span ><i><div>chasing time</div><div>ink and paper</div><div>october 2009</div></i></span></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>it was that night ,</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>when i thought that the silence between us will be clearer</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>but when you stood up from bed the next day,</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>without looking back,</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>i then realized that it was still a dream that i kept on believing at</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>10. <a href="http://wanderingcommuter.blogspot.com/2009/05/after-ribbon-cutting.html">after the ribbon cutting</a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqsIoqamZ_8Hk3aRrEZMLCnbYDog9PmAn4ZZ1xukk4fgksTy4MhRQn28RA1GgCvXsE1H1uAQqtYM7HA6xL7o6k81Th4phb7CeGLXOotGfpqtH4iAgRVtqNFbKulnp7fU5QJCh5Ykr2i5pL/s1600/DSC00106.JPG" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqsIoqamZ_8Hk3aRrEZMLCnbYDog9PmAn4ZZ1xukk4fgksTy4MhRQn28RA1GgCvXsE1H1uAQqtYM7HA6xL7o6k81Th4phb7CeGLXOotGfpqtH4iAgRVtqNFbKulnp7fU5QJCh5Ykr2i5pL/s320/DSC00106.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721516532479140754" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; "><span ><div>outside this building</div><div>ink and paper</div><div>05/24/2009</div></span></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>minsan, hindi mahalaga kung sino ang taong nananakit sa atin, ang mas importante ay kung bakit natin hinahayaang masaktan tayo.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>9. <a href="http://wanderingcommuter.blogspot.com/2010/02/open-letter-why-is-love-not-enough.html">open letter: why is love not enough?</a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 100%; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5-PG21cJ-C0b7X2L4jAqwFZuZfjcKaLE7wIRaPCUT6M4v-Ufj6o_m_mB8i8BIe7tvKgtEQf56ioU4IqMiCK6AE0bZHyeIfc16LtoVOiEs0u5KLB-qImAfM0UNsyCQchHo4adHU86QPGJ/s1600/DSC00442.JPG" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; line-height: normal; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5-PG21cJ-C0b7X2L4jAqwFZuZfjcKaLE7wIRaPCUT6M4v-Ufj6o_m_mB8i8BIe7tvKgtEQf56ioU4IqMiCK6AE0bZHyeIfc16LtoVOiEs0u5KLB-qImAfM0UNsyCQchHo4adHU86QPGJ/s320/DSC00442.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721516868993484770" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div style="line-height: normal; text-align: -webkit-center; "><span><span style="line-height: 18px;">latak</span></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; text-align: -webkit-center; "><span><span style="line-height: 18px;">paper and color pencil</span></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; text-align: -webkit-center; "><span><span style="line-height: 18px;">041408</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-center; "><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>sometimes, even the stars in a clear moonless night is not enough to cradle you to sleep. neither a kiss nor a hug would assure you of tomorrow. for even the most genuine romance falls short to spell out certainty.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>8. <a href="http://wanderingcommuter.blogspot.com/2010/02/promises.html">promises(?)</a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPMcvxUn7IzYT8qpggCzKgrtNMX9klyczDCBgNJio_wt1UO3hROXCzVfC2u2oDG-IR16gkXeKOv49lrDRhswX3OpxJp3rUoMvyz2KhIeEMNmjXSOQlbDieNkju_ZJViK__aRWE0m9-Pfn_/s1600/25235_1330802044610_1667777120_763705_4347361_n.jpg" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPMcvxUn7IzYT8qpggCzKgrtNMX9klyczDCBgNJio_wt1UO3hROXCzVfC2u2oDG-IR16gkXeKOv49lrDRhswX3OpxJp3rUoMvyz2KhIeEMNmjXSOQlbDieNkju_ZJViK__aRWE0m9-Pfn_/s320/25235_1330802044610_1667777120_763705_4347361_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721521997298148354" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; " >paglalakbay </span></div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span >(the journey)</span></div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span >ink & paper </span></div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span >111808</span></div><div style="text-align: left;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; ">we hammer promises with our imperfections, we break them into pieces because of our shortcomings. but at the end, its our own guilt that eats us.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>7. <a href="http://wanderingcommuter.blogspot.com/2009/06/ending.html">the ending</a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcwFFAW2GhR-cRzSGWcf-e9g3ofFEAIvEIasFKjrPhWY8rtqwoAN3xJ1l8Q3liYmPi_CaQHSlfi2aX4offmGasIF8kNHQgkyhaV8UzpOuVf0GXXm2xVZOobcOHcuwI4PP2cTUMnnTQt7TB/s1600/kodakan-0319.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcwFFAW2GhR-cRzSGWcf-e9g3ofFEAIvEIasFKjrPhWY8rtqwoAN3xJ1l8Q3liYmPi_CaQHSlfi2aX4offmGasIF8kNHQgkyhaV8UzpOuVf0GXXm2xVZOobcOHcuwI4PP2cTUMnnTQt7TB/s320/kodakan-0319.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721518458541210098" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; "><div style="color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: 'tahoma Trebuchet MS', lucida, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br /></div></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; text-align: center; "><span >"blue and happy"</span></div><div style="line-height: normal; text-align: center; "><span >oil on canvas with etching</span></div><div style="line-height: normal; text-align: center; "><span >16"x24"</span></div><div style="line-height: normal; text-align: center; "><span >june 20, 2007</span></div><div style="line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; text-align: center; "><span><span><span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span><span><span style="font-size: 100%;">minsan tuloy naisip ko, sa ganitong buhay hindi ko na alam kung ano ang mas dapat, ang maging malandi pero panandalian o maging matino pero iniiwan?</span></span></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>6. <a href="http://wanderingcommuter.blogspot.com/2009/08/silence-open-letter.html">silence: an open letter</a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcJop7zMhbCKfgYQCUGWV9tRGpOM4BID-eqTh-pnvceS2aM7o2xl8pjMX71OPm05hB69sRpaLxUeH2p_ltdwwsaS4wZIZti2qhBaHVc5Qx75XN-YCux1HbEYh6IZ27KoO5RCWSLezyFg3G/s1600/old+spaghetti+house+002.jpg" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcJop7zMhbCKfgYQCUGWV9tRGpOM4BID-eqTh-pnvceS2aM7o2xl8pjMX71OPm05hB69sRpaLxUeH2p_ltdwwsaS4wZIZti2qhBaHVc5Qx75XN-YCux1HbEYh6IZ27KoO5RCWSLezyFg3G/s320/old+spaghetti+house+002.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721518177945269202" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div style="line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; text-align: center; "><span>"been there, done that"</span></div><div style="line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; text-align: center; "><span>8"x 11.5"</span></div><div style="line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; text-align: center; "><span>crayon etching</span></div><div style="line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; text-align: center; "><span><span>january 15, 2008</span></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; text-align: center; "><span><span><span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span><span><span style="font-size: 100%;">probably, this what makes it special. what makes everything unpredictable, a treasure. and why most people are also scared to take the risk. for its strips you off of all your hesitations to a point where you feel you're already bare and vulnerable. then you tend to cover yourself with what have been its remains. endlessly thinking that either you're giving in to much or you're offering nothing at all. but at the end of it, its funny for we still are hopefuls.</span></span></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>5. <a href="http://wanderingcommuter.blogspot.com/2010/12/two-things-i-relaized-today.html">two things i realized today...</a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5TU9EcQF8_7dWv_9Oobom7KQ4J6uvX8jnpzjDnNhyphenhyphenMVZ2GsSiWGc-CFZOVeBbURIc8Pi9uApEEhjMQdttX-k1YPTUhPMQJ7jJR9m_uFkT4vWozY-ICW5k5iR2EqVFxKchK5KGP_HKst_/s1600/123.jpg" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5TU9EcQF8_7dWv_9Oobom7KQ4J6uvX8jnpzjDnNhyphenhyphenMVZ2GsSiWGc-CFZOVeBbURIc8Pi9uApEEhjMQdttX-k1YPTUhPMQJ7jJR9m_uFkT4vWozY-ICW5k5iR2EqVFxKchK5KGP_HKst_/s320/123.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721519701626599410" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 295px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; "><span><div>" fantasya"</div><div>ms paint</div><div>010207</div></span></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>last night i dreamed of you--- again</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>then i suddenly realized that</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>you will always be the memory</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>that i will perpetually fall in love with...</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>until the day the apparition of the prophecy</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>stands in front of me.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>4. <a href="http://wanderingcommuter.blogspot.com/2011/01/peter-pans-shadow.html">peter pan's shadow</a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRgVpfztU_IazNwhMCPdI4FsBFc3s0i_34wx8U6_9O4lIQ7YxYdNEe520senccmfNAHwcfGmvsDzoLwKopSNhPZSVBKKvxdi9po-24oIjajnuSCZrTHcQNft9FNqPNCRIK-_9qSkyNeW99/s1600/CIMG0095.JPG" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRgVpfztU_IazNwhMCPdI4FsBFc3s0i_34wx8U6_9O4lIQ7YxYdNEe520senccmfNAHwcfGmvsDzoLwKopSNhPZSVBKKvxdi9po-24oIjajnuSCZrTHcQNft9FNqPNCRIK-_9qSkyNeW99/s320/CIMG0095.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721520160009942242" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; "><span>at the end, ink & paper, february 2008</span></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>no one really said that being young assures us of not getting hurt. in fact, it is actually on that condition that leave us most vulnerable. hence, never be scared of falling because it is on that dive where the real life starts.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>3. <a href="http://wanderingcommuter.blogspot.com/2009/10/moving-out-from-between-open-letter.html">moving out from betweens: an open letter</a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy7TfDLe8MDh3do8QInpisuwFdi-itxdW7NEgciGFbY_y8hweED70i0lkAgyjnEoLfNs3x_usjNQGExDEt6elgXwj2zdOQTh3ltRnBd7lwD453Mq4K3WGC53nVIeF0RSPssLswe_VjSJmB/s1600/DSC00978.JPG" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy7TfDLe8MDh3do8QInpisuwFdi-itxdW7NEgciGFbY_y8hweED70i0lkAgyjnEoLfNs3x_usjNQGExDEt6elgXwj2zdOQTh3ltRnBd7lwD453Mq4K3WGC53nVIeF0RSPssLswe_VjSJmB/s320/DSC00978.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721520696411119138" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; "><span><div>ugnayan</div><div>(relation)</div><div>etching</div><div>09/15/2008</div></span></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; ">never stay in a relationship only because of time, memories, assurance nor of promises. stay because of no other reason rather than you want to, or better yet, you need to; for the feeling of staying and growing with that person is really what that counts.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>2. <a href="http://wanderingcommuter.blogspot.com/2009/10/moving-out-from-between-open-letter.html">moving out from betweens: an open letter</a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0d03ORLLGQMtRwbYg1vQyJ-7yoN2b34ZI0i1ytq6udzlN11QWwxW5VE7HdJBIzwIa7QY9gehXVUcIeeA-N_AuPGOknwOIG48-fMWZkzg32zCoMhb2WtjUc8mbMkKRCJULPRwhCV8mKis/s1600/Picture+067.jpg" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0d03ORLLGQMtRwbYg1vQyJ-7yoN2b34ZI0i1ytq6udzlN11QWwxW5VE7HdJBIzwIa7QY9gehXVUcIeeA-N_AuPGOknwOIG48-fMWZkzg32zCoMhb2WtjUc8mbMkKRCJULPRwhCV8mKis/s320/Picture+067.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721515763456483298" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><span style="text-align: center; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><div>underneath the bed</div><div>ink and paper</div><div>06/28/2009</div></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>never stay in a relationship only because of time, memories, assurance nor of promises. stay because of no other reason rather than you want to, or better yet, you need to; for the feeling of staying and growing with that person is really what that counts.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>1. <a href="http://wanderingcommuter.blogspot.com/2010/03/clairvoyance.html">clairvoyance</a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span style="text-align: center; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><div style="text-align: center; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK1ITVbyyxm4vFR_FLFpkU_-6VklYgr_QCCEoEyHV52M9losTkAZUBPD2EVrydTVeh4F-2u0Or8f-lkm2fz_Qhclp8p2hKLXN7HdKK1KIEUrsNCIMsdLeeoYatzYMJtPr5qPGqfF8638Tw/s1600/DSC00031.JPG" style="color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: left; font-size: medium; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK1ITVbyyxm4vFR_FLFpkU_-6VklYgr_QCCEoEyHV52M9losTkAZUBPD2EVrydTVeh4F-2u0Or8f-lkm2fz_Qhclp8p2hKLXN7HdKK1KIEUrsNCIMsdLeeoYatzYMJtPr5qPGqfF8638Tw/s320/DSC00031.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721519267255675986" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div><div><span><div>for those who have hold their silence forever</div><div>ink and paper</div><div>01/07</div></span></div></div></div></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span>its funny how the place reminded me of J so much. though i dont remember us being here before. the place was deserted. there were a pair of bowing angels made in cold concrete, tainted broken glass panes, and an empty bench under a weeping tree.</span></div></div>wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-57360177192647778622012-03-06T22:24:00.002+11:002012-03-06T22:59:25.021+11:00change<div><div><span >i feel guilty whenever i visit my blog and recall all the memories i used to write in it. </span></div><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span >i feel guilty because its not as active as it was before. </span></div><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span >i feel sad for my recent entries for they seemed forced. </span></div><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span >just to have something to post.</span></div><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span >i feel sad when i write something in it just because i feel down. </span></div><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span >funny, how change makes you realize how you are so not ready for it, after crying so long for it to happen before. </span></div><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span >well i guess, now, i have more reasons to write again--- to write for this change, and the change to <i>change</i> this change. </span></div></div><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span >*now, feeling better. </span></div>wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-8047800032924052342012-02-21T22:58:00.012+11:002012-02-21T23:41:14.334+11:00in vino<div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; text-align: left; ">"i like you," those were the words i heard as i drew my face near the shadow that grabbed me from my P7 bacardi coke and mojito.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>"how about introducing myself first?" i said.</span></div><div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; text-align: center; "><br /></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto; "><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRjQUQ72oF_I_kIy1B4A3o4NhDioSaLuSAfwRh-X4Wqib05uJHW0oNL0kXhloGKSKbd4GXLP1fmUwwG2O1Kz63V4SBO1WJ1x_Re3EgPQKYOuQAmO4mJdgtcTqlocKHk9AKM6mFTsQJ_05N/s320/1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711561215395557730" /></span><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; text-align: center; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>the shadow smiled. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>"james, and you are?"</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>"A"</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>"pleasure."</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>A introduce himself as swedish, who was with another swedish friend (who A later revealed to be A's lawyer).</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>"care for another round of drinks for you and your friends? my treat."</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div><span><span ><span style="font-size: 100%;">but before i could refuse, A immediately went to the bar to get us a round of </span>tequila<span style="font-size: 100%;">. when A went back, all of my friends were already screaming, dancing off-beat and sweating profusely. </span></span></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWwfzfZNBA6JxnIOvuEseTFyXvf1uKuLhfNUKBhocsL49LxJWR0H36aU3l1pE06vBTM_Zt2lEWbXWImM9JLWmyVZGRG2Drku6L_1ypD_XqMiq9Pnd3VC1dwCvdy7cHeGOWZB8QxnrpwypU/s1600/3.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWwfzfZNBA6JxnIOvuEseTFyXvf1uKuLhfNUKBhocsL49LxJWR0H36aU3l1pE06vBTM_Zt2lEWbXWImM9JLWmyVZGRG2Drku6L_1ypD_XqMiq9Pnd3VC1dwCvdy7cHeGOWZB8QxnrpwypU/s320/3.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711563117273531522" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 260px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>it was the first time, i saw them these loose. but i cannot blame them for we have drunk our three nights limit that night. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>it was indeed a very wild night. honestly, no one can even remember clearly what happened. everyone has their own story of another. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span><i>someone had to carry someone from station 2 to the end of station 1, marking the entire trail of with what he had for dinner. </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span><i>someone knelt on his bed and peed on his pillow. </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span><i>someone almost lost his iphone but lucky enough to retrieve it after bravely slipping his hand inside another person's pocket after hearing it ring. </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span><i>while someone had the chance to touch a couple of guys' 6 packs abs just to decide whose nicer.</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>it was just crazy. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>"wanna go out from here?"</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; text-align: center; "><br /><div></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>"i think i need to attend to my friend first. he is already wasted."</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>"you are just a sweetheart."</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>please. i am just not fond of compliments. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioU1hYqg_IkrlLUktuSEvIRQu1ZAphiT6XDJdpv9UOKlPxN7w2Tg6ULorRlugupvK24hBTCAAmt2Au6_B0RiN3OMroW0vDDyGboArGQJ2bmtL48bWNFEVI1OGu6fDdz6TPLlEvWfvtLUnD/s1600/2.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioU1hYqg_IkrlLUktuSEvIRQu1ZAphiT6XDJdpv9UOKlPxN7w2Tg6ULorRlugupvK24hBTCAAmt2Au6_B0RiN3OMroW0vDDyGboArGQJ2bmtL48bWNFEVI1OGu6fDdz6TPLlEvWfvtLUnD/s320/2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711561927565591874" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 291px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; text-align: center; "><span>not our friend. hahaha!</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>"i don't know if i would take that as a compliment though."</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>"you should and seriously i like you," A repeated.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>"just excuse my friend. A has a tendency to reiterate something A wants to point out, especially when the person also has the tendency not to believe it." then C winked. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>"i bet you two are really good friends."</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO1rIWjjQK-QYXjeJDlrE8x_5U9CIn7MqvpLUJ6Q4sX0sF5MMtwcYE_mTAXOO2n_n8WXNPrIM3TMBAds06G0fERshVShtgTTwus1YRICjjYuJoy5tCyJEmMj4dvXeb2lUNRkE14UK3Perx/s1600/4.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO1rIWjjQK-QYXjeJDlrE8x_5U9CIn7MqvpLUJ6Q4sX0sF5MMtwcYE_mTAXOO2n_n8WXNPrIM3TMBAds06G0fERshVShtgTTwus1YRICjjYuJoy5tCyJEmMj4dvXeb2lUNRkE14UK3Perx/s320/4.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711562472062382578" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; ">then we all laughed. A still insisted but the picture of my friends already slumbering in front of the comfort room was something my conscience could not really bear. but before we called it a night, A requested a favor.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>"can i borrow your phone for a second?"</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>realizing the place to be a bit crowded and it would difficult for anyone to make a quick escape, i handed it over. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>it was some digits and an email address. but what really caught my attention was As complete name. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span><i>a complete name: </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span><i>first, </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span><i>middle </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span><i>and family name. </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>then it struck me. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>***</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span><i>honesty</i> </span><span style="font-style: normal; font-family: Georgia, serif; ">is just a breather nowadays, especially in a place where everything was supposed to be kept hidden.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><span>thank you for the smile. appreciate it guys while is still genuine. </span></div></div>wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-34237924525052386352012-01-17T01:27:00.012+11:002012-01-17T01:58:32.318+11:00how am i?<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left; ">i guess this is the time of the year when everyone turns back to where they have started. and i will not deny the fact that its been a while since i have posted an entry here.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>it has been two years since i have decided to come up with a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><a href="http://wanderingcommuter.blogspot.com/2008/12/life-list-2009.html">lifelist</a></span>. and surprisingly, i was able to accomplish most of it. and while drafting this, i was able to cross out another one. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">saving's</span> account. thanks to my boss who is trying to be a father to me for more than a year now. he ordered our finance manager to open me up one and argued that i need to be mature enough to think of my future. you will not believe what he tells me everyday at work, on top of business.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNJZFRr24Aglkp60zYohhBIYql6nkuAG7UyKo2kn2B1hMPAweEV8XkIjvguej0ggagFGJqZETF7A5wGDO9Jv_GsbGMhJpFCD6ElvqzVsPPfD1EMQpjZXqKSASLMuovS7_5Vwc6CmKssf4j/s320/IMG-20120116-00100.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698237300996057202" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></div><div>for the past months, i am just busy with work. probably, because i already have a team to manage and did not realize how difficult it is.</div><div><div style="text-align: center; "></div></div><div><br /></div><div>basically, i go to work at 8 and usually leave by 9 or 11 in the evening; that is from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">monday</span> to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">saturday</span>. but despite these, i am not complaining. in fact, if i did not write this post i will not realize that i have been doing this for the longest time now. lets just say i am simply enjoying what i am doing now because of what i have experienced before with the jobs that i really did not like doing (which i also chose not to dwell anymore).</div><div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>last weekend, i had the chance to go to singapore and watch a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">broadway</span> play that i always wanted to see, aside from rent and the phantom of the opera. it was wicked. the play just left me wordless whenever someone ask how was it. it was just too nice to be spoiled. but the trip also made me realize, a number of things i never expected will happen at least to me.</div><div><div style="text-align: center; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7zgcw-j6IBcxbG0IaBkAyfYBmGSxX_XmiitzPYxZhHVLGp76RBPS93Dh8Ijjg2Ux6Z1fjULsor3RA7ikcY8_5vR2tEw2RSQCTsvwZX7cjvx0A0VsxDb0daZRWbc4K0Kb8Eb-vIKUYHMgf/s320/IMG-20120106-00079.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698239265099761330" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></div></div><div>traversing this rich city opened me to a lot of things and even the possibility of working abroad, which i never really entertained before. the city provides almost everything a young professional would dream of, which simply equates to a more promising career. but beyond this, i decided not to be very hasty with my decision. try not to go with what other young people like me did.</div><div><br /></div><div>honestly, my boss was a bit hesitant in allowing me to go to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">singapore</span>. i knew he feared that i may not come back like what happened to his staff before me. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>i am not even sure if what he told me was just to convince not to go or stay in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">singapore</span>. but what he pointed at has some truth on it. he believes that the reason many young <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">filipino</span> professionals fail in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">singapore</span> and returns back is because of lack of experience. most of them just risk going there after graduating because of the promise of a good opportunity without really <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">equiping</span> them with the right sets of skills and expertise. so having that in mind, i guess its will be just an open option for me. something that i could always go back to if worst comes to worst and if i already have the right skill sets and experience. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>but it also made me think that i should travel more often. see the world more. a new <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">lifelist</span> for this year came in mind. 3 abroad and 5 (new) local destinations. luckily, someone asked me to do some "surprising engagements" in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">boracay</span> next month. and regardless, how absurd it was, who can refuse an all expense paid trip?</div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP-0-UWe3qWlx4S_xsprM0DeGKlNQDgg_LwUimRuhHO-HcQb1gJjY-_th0Ae45OjZxDKjWt6fzjZ6dqtyD_56B-s3SJFWlQxxGrV7MgYI0A1JScRNsFgCfSkjofIRRKb9UGHAqzx6h6Vou/s320/1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698237442208957522" style="text-align: center; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></div><div>after this, i am planning for another backpacking adventure in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">mindanao</span>. i have only been to mindanao once. it was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">cagayan</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">de</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">oro</span> last august, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Eid</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">al</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Fitr</span> to be exact. but it was more of a work engagement so i was not able to enjoy the place at all. hopefully, my itinerary and the people who are suppose to go with me (you know who you guys are), will push through. in fact, i have already my itinerary booklet prepared since last year. i have this thing with preparing itinerary booklets for each trip. see?</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-AsbV_UFV7oC3hyCav7Mbq2ZYwB6S7s4XFXRSgJ0-S57y_Q-2KJn6IyKh3uuv0gqLsdLPjS-SwUnnfjMPmgbNJoiOUIn3aMwdrS2KrgsQTzaZncu8DM1CQtNECQTY8R3qpUQMcBN6skI/s1600/6.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-AsbV_UFV7oC3hyCav7Mbq2ZYwB6S7s4XFXRSgJ0-S57y_Q-2KJn6IyKh3uuv0gqLsdLPjS-SwUnnfjMPmgbNJoiOUIn3aMwdrS2KrgsQTzaZncu8DM1CQtNECQTY8R3qpUQMcBN6skI/s320/6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698240214258262674" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMvKPzmr7MhigDGA27TYCyjQNvor445CRCq-UyeCPJlHgUGV9e2uLJrF1kZ7aSyAnf6UTUxGFCmKHUvtmB2NW-ROMOxqjMpkbvjLzjza0uiUMDILOmsbay285AamwW914bdf_5NUCsn9Sr/s1600/8.bmp"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMvKPzmr7MhigDGA27TYCyjQNvor445CRCq-UyeCPJlHgUGV9e2uLJrF1kZ7aSyAnf6UTUxGFCmKHUvtmB2NW-ROMOxqjMpkbvjLzjza0uiUMDILOmsbay285AamwW914bdf_5NUCsn9Sr/s320/8.bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698240445559643986" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 206px; " /></a>however, please be guided that i have no plans of turning my blog to a travel blog. let's just say i am widening my places to wander for wonders.</div><div><br /></div><div>'til next time and take it easy, guys.</div>wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477081438559630011.post-25201480523876284932011-11-22T11:54:00.013+11:002011-11-22T12:49:42.977+11:00when L came<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span">we all heard of <b style="text-align: left; ">rape</b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: left; ">. the most common being experienced by women. we also have heard and read about rape among men. the most controversial being among prisoners and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">POWs</span>. in fact, someone reading this may also be a victim of rape one way or another.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">a couple of weeks ago, i received an email from a friend who i have not heard for ages. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">it was <b>L </b>and he <b><i>came out</i></b> to me on his message. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">although the confession was not a surprised. i emailed him back, telling him what i felt. i was happy and proud of what he did. after sometime my phone rung. it was <b>L.</b></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><u><br /></u></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">i answered it and heard a trembling voice. </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">"i haven't told my family yet."</span></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcBThjudaBt9kJrKIV8_MJuZuwaUVvXMsg6NNDdcZpdp73Tu41IVpyyAzzniQ7eQ1cF70OW2rj-i6nvbLfxWXFv_XYzFp479ZkBcl73P3S00DIiJtEnSZW8MjtQfdjhOMxK-PZNEbGKuZI/s320/1234.bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677623477297260674" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 263px; height: 239px; " /><div></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">"don't worry it takes time. someday you'll just gain that courage to tell them. and everything will be just fine."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">"i just wish its easier said than done, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ewik</span>. but honestly, i don't think i will ever have that courage because if i did, i should have already used it to tell it to my family by now.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">i already reached my quota in disappointing my parents. and i really could not take seeing them getting frustrated again."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">then L broke down.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">it was the most torturing sound <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ive</span> ever heard. a dying struggle between someone who is trying to be strong but at the same time on the verge of surrendering. it was just too much to bear. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">"whats the problem," i asked.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">"i just wish i can overcome all these. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">im</span> trying to be strong, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ewik</span>. i really am." </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">it was just then when L told me everything. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">several months after L's break up, he never really thought he can still go by loving someone like his former. he never came out from his place. he cut his communication from almost everyone he knew and cares about him. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">but he is an introvert. so his parents never really got bothered about it.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">there were times when hope visited L and accompanied him in his attempt to win back his former. but it seemed like promises, like a fruit, also wait for the picking. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">the attempt made him at his worst and it took months to recover. almost a year to be a bit precise until a message from a site he started visiting gave him the spark for a new promise of hope, once again. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">they started <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">texting</span> and calling. though despite the differences, the hope made it as if it was perfect---<i><b> it complimented</b></i>, to quote him. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">they went out several times and within just a couple of weeks it was already obvious-- the other party was already falling. unfortunately, as much as L wants to believe he feels the same way too, he just can't. but he still made himself hold to that promise. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">until constant quarrels, unmanageable differences and demands grew beyond its intended limits, the flame of hope in L eventually died again. however, when he was about to tell that its over, the other party would not just let go. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">passion eventually turned into obsession and sweet words became disturbing threats. the guy threatened L that he will expose him to his family, once he broke up with him. what made everything worst was the guy's obsession brought him to L's place, to his parents, family and loved ones--- in short to his life. L was caught off guard. he never thought, not even in his wildest imagination that he will be in that position. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">L being an introvert never really had a lot of friends. hence, he never really had the opportunity to enjoy what he really is and what he can be. several negotiation followed but the obsession was way irrational from what he thought it was. there were attempts to plead but he guessed, at this point it was already hopeless. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">honestly, it was really difficult for me to hear what he was narrating. i was mad and at the same time, weeping inside. every word was an indescribable agony. i suggested a number of things that i can do. but he refused. L just wanted the guy to get tired and eventually drop him despite the fact that he knows it will not happen anytime soon. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">believed that it was everything, i asked him if we could meet the following <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">saturday</span>. but he refused. he told me that he is forced to visit and stay with the guy until the following morning, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">sunday</span>. the idea of him just staying the night made me sick. eventually, he admitted. he is also forced to do it with him. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">i tried not to think he was L, that he was a complete stranger who just wanted someone to listen at him. i tried imagining that he was just another random blogger who was trying to tell his experience. but regardless how i put it, it still felt awful. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">ewik</span>, i have to go now. i am running out of credits and i cannot really afford of losing it. he always get mad whenever it happens. sorry, i am just <i><b>scared</b></i>."</span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjve3g7W2uttmNCz8fcqhHGPdMI4Z1LENfvEAbVGvyDI4mlM8Odma-xQsPzcRQuc_ZP7ikHQ6ZkN9K0_wWyz-wwoRc85XzU8chIGOeE5FWx0iS4ICMUEipbHjVchoLPmcnzi8RAcctFt4JW/s1600/3456.bmp" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><span class="Apple-style-span"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjve3g7W2uttmNCz8fcqhHGPdMI4Z1LENfvEAbVGvyDI4mlM8Odma-xQsPzcRQuc_ZP7ikHQ6ZkN9K0_wWyz-wwoRc85XzU8chIGOeE5FWx0iS4ICMUEipbHjVchoLPmcnzi8RAcctFt4JW/s320/3456.bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677623736053007778" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 308px; " /></span></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">i wanted to hug him; show him that he always have a friend who can always be there if he needs one. i wanted to help him with the best effort i can. unfortunately, all i can do and say during that time were:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">"<b><i>goodbye</i></b> and always <i><b>take care</b></i>."</span></div></div>wanderingcommuterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04870111584760550069noreply@blogger.com21